Chapter Text
“What’s this?” Sam asked as he pulled a large crate off the shelf. He blew the dust off.
Dean coughed and waved his hand to clear the air. “Probably another box of useless crap,” he said, following his brother across the room. They had been going through the bunker’s store rooms, looking for anything that could help Cas with his war in Heaven. So far, the Men of Letters’ collection had been a bunch of dangerous artifacts that weren’t doing much good to anyone.
“Maybe not,” Sam said. He was always hopeful that they could find something worthwhile. He cracked open the crate. The hinges screeched with an ominous tone. Sam looked over the box at his brother before folding the lid back. Six golden scrolls were nestled in a bed of straw.
“What the?” Dean asked.
Sam reached in and picked one up. He carefully unrolled the fragile scroll. Golden ink shimmered on white paper. The writing was unlike anything from Earth. Sam’s eyes ran over the twisting characters. “You better call Cas,” he said. “I think this is Enoch.”
Dean glanced over his brother’s shoulder. The writhing words looked like worms were having some kind of party across the page. It gave him something of a headache to look at. Closing his eyes, he thought of Castiel. “Hey Cas,” he prayed. “Get your feathered ass down here. I think we have something that can help.” Dean opened his eyes and looked around, but the angel didn’t show up. He gave his brother a resigned look. Cas was busy in Heaven with his war. “Let’s take these out so Cas can take a look when he gets here.”
Sam nodded his agreement and rolled the scroll up. He set it back into the box. “I want to see if I can figure these out.”
Dean turned around and squeaked as he nearly ran into Cas.
“Hello Dean,” Cas said in that raspy tone of his.
“Damn, dude,” Dean protested as he pushed Cas back. “Personal space.”
Cas took a step back. “You called?”
“Yes,” Dean said irritated with the angel. He turned around and took out the scroll Sam had put back in the box. “Take a look at this.” He handed the object to Cas.
Cas carefully unrolled the scroll. “It’s Enoch,” he said as his eyes traced over the writing.
“What does it say?” Sam asked.
Cas shook his head as he unrolled more of the paper. “I recognize the letters, but I can’t read this,” he said. “It’s in a dialect that I don’t know.”
“A dialect you don’t know?” Dean echoed. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means he can’t read it,” Sam said crossly. He pulled another scroll out of the box. This one looked very similar to the first.
“I realized that,” Dean snapped. He looked at the new scroll. “Enoch is the language of Angels. Why can’t you read it?”
Irritation bent Cas’s brow. “There are many forms of Enoch in Heaven,” he explained as he rolled up the scroll. “This form was used before the Great Fall.”
“The Great Fall?” Dean asked.
Sam made an exasperated noise in his throat. “The one where God cast Lucifer out of Heaven,” he said tiredly.
“I get that,” Dean snapped. He turned his attention back to Cas. “You can’t read this.”
“No,” Cas said, handing the scroll to Sam. “I never learned this version of Enoch.”
“But someone in Heaven has to know it,” Sam said taking the scrolls and putting them back in the box. “These could be important.”
“Maybe Arora,” Cas said, thinking about the possibilities.
“Who’s Arora?” Dean asked.
“She’s Heaven’s librarian,” Cas explained, “But she’d been busy keeping the records from being destroyed in the fights. I doubt she would come look at these for us.”
“Then who else?” Sam pressed.
Cas turned and paced away from them, thinking. “There might be one other.” He stopped and turned back to the Winchesters. “But no one has heard from him in nearly thirty years.”
“Who?” Dean prompted.
“Aziraphael,” Cas answered.
“Aziraphael?” Sam repeated. “Really?”
“Who’s that?” Dean questioned.
Sam rolled his eyes. “He’s the angel tasked with guarding the Eastern Gate of Eden.”
“As in the Garden of Eden,” Dean said, dumbfounded.
“Yes,” Cas said, explaining things. “He was there when God cast Adam and Eve out. He sealed up the gates behind them and has been watching over man ever since.”
“How long has that been?” Dean asked.
“Roughly six thousand years,” Cas explained.
“Wow,” Dean said in awe.
“So how do we get a hold of him?” Sam asked.
“No one’s talked with Aziraphael since he and the demon Crawly stopped the Apocalypse thirty years ago,” Cas said.
“Wait,” Dean interrupted. “There was an Apocalypse thirty years ago?”
“Yes,”Cas said. “Aziraphael and Crawly helped the Aintichrist stop it before it actually got started.”
“Why didn’t we hear about this?” Sam asked.
Cas shrugged. “It was in England.”
“Oh,” Dean exclaimed. “Stupid English. Aren’t good at sharing anything important.”
Sam gave Dean a dirty look before turning his attention back to Cas. “So how do we reach him?”
“Summon him,” Cas said. He walked over to the table and picked up the notebook Sam had been using to catalog the items they’d found. He drew a complicated symbol on the page. “Use his sigil.” He handed the paper to Sam. “I’ve got to get back now.”
Dean didn’t even have a moment to speak before Cas disappeared to the sound of wings flapping. “Feathered dick,” he mumbled at the angel that wasn’t there anymore.
Sam pursed his lips and glared at his brother. “You do know Cas is fighting a war in Heaven right now.”
Dean slammed the lid down on the scrolls. “He could have waited around to see if these things could help him.”
Sam clutched the paper with the sigil in his hand. “It’s going to take me several hours to set up this summonings. I doubt he has time to wait for that, jerk.” He headed out to get things ready.
“Bitch,” Dean snarked. He picked up the box with the scrolls and followed his brother out.