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“I started this, I’m gonna end it.”
“Dean—”
“Your plan, getting everybody safe, that’s good, okay, but it won’t last forever. Now, we couldn’t make Chuck pay, but Billie? She left her blade. Her I can kill.”
“No.” Sam’s voice was unusually firm as he looked at his brother. “I’m gonna do it.”
“Sam—”
“She killed Eileen.” Sam swallowed. “She’s mine.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, then Dean nodded.
“I’ll get everyone to safety,” Dean told him. “You go kill the bitch.”
“I’m coming with you,” Castiel said to Sam, who smiled gratefully.
They parted ways, Sam and Castiel taking Eileen’s car. Sam’s throat was tight with fear. Billie could still take any one of them at any moment. She could take Dean. She could take Jack. She could take Cas. Sam felt Cas’s eyes on him, and returned his gaze.
“I’m sorry,” Castiel said gently. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”
“Thanks,” Sam said softly, training his eyes on the road.
Cas fell silent, and the ride back to the bunker remained so.
The scythe was where they left it. In retrospect, Sam thought wryly, they really shouldn’t have left it in the first place. Maybe they still had some of the luck they’d been given.
They entered Death’s room carefully and quietly, but their caution was to no avail.
“So. I guess this is the part where I say ‘Hello, boys’.” Death turned around to face Sam and Castiel. “Hello, boys,” she said dryly. “What’s the plan?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Take me down with my own weapon?”
“Something like that,” Castiel replied grimly.
“Well, perhaps he’ll have better aim than his brother,” she smirked. “Not that it matters.”
“Why not?” Sam asked in a clipped tone.
Billie pulled her coat aside, showing a festering wound. “Even a nick from my blade is fatal.”
The scythe slipped from Sam’s nerveless fingers. Castiel moved quickly to grip Sam’s shoulders.
“So you’re not the one killing our people?” Sam whispered.
Both her eyebrows raised at this. “Is that why you’re here? Revenge?” Malicious glee lit her face. “Sorry to disappoint, but God is the one you’re after.”
Sam eyes met Castiel’s, horror gripping him. If that was the case, no amount of warding Dean put up would protect the hunters. There wasn’t a thing they could do to stop Chuck. Then Sam’s eyes fell upon the scythe.
“The old Death told Dean that he’d reap God someday,” Sam said, voice rising in excitement. Fuck, how the hell had they forgotten that? “Why didn’t you use your scythe to reap Chuck?”
“Because the old Death didn’t plan on killing God until God was ready to die. He was never, and I’m not, necessarily strong enough to beat God if he fights back. And I didn’t want to risk him killing me if I could avoid it.” She cocked her head in consideration. “But, since I’m already dying, I suppose it doesn’t matter.” She grinned, and leaned down to pick up her blade. “It would be a satisfying final act.” She looked back to Sam. “I will try to kill Chuck.”
Sam’s knees buckled as relief swept through him, and if it wasn’t for Castiel’s hands on his shoulders, he might have collapsed. But Billie wasn’t done.
“Right after I kill you.”
Sam wasn’t even aware of himself moving, but somehow he was flying through Death’s door, Castiel by his side. Billie didn't bother running. He could hear her slow, heavy footsteps as she followed. The ground didn’t shake as she walked, rather, her presence reverberated through the very air, oppressive, suffocating.
“In here!" Castiel shouted, shoving Sam into the dungeon and slamming the door shut. Sam’s mind was running in circles faster than he could begin to follow, and he could do nothing but stand there as Castiel cut his hand open and painted a sigil on the door. Seconds later, they heard Billie’s hand crash against it.
“Sam?” Castiel shook him, and Sam looked at him, tears blurring his vision.
“What if Chuck kills them before she gets to him? What if she waits until they’re all dead?”
“Sam, snap out of it,” Castiel said firmly, his hands a vice on Sam’s arms. “We need a plan, or we’re both going to die, and neither of us can help save everyone.”
“But she won’t kill Chuck before she kills us,” Sam said in despair.
“Who says we need her?” Castiel pointed out. “We just need her blade, and a way to trap Chuck.”
“And how exactly are we supposed to get her blade?”
Cas looked at him steadily. “We kill her.” Sam laughed hopelessly.
“She’s Death, Cas. The only reason Dean was able to cut her was because she wasn’t paying attention. She can kill with a touch. How are we supposed to fight her?”
“We don’t.”
Sam had never seen Cas look at him like this before. There was something sorrowful, yet strangely free in his expression.
“If we can summon The Empty, it’ll kill her for us. And I know how to do it.”
A different kind of fear rose up in Sam, something more primal, more desperate.
“Cas,” Sam said shakily. “What are you talking about?”
“I made a deal with The Empty. A deal to bring Jack back.”
“Cas—” Sam began, that strange terror mounting.
“I traded myself for him. It would let us both come back, but when the moment came that I experienced true happiness, it would take me.” His voice was impossibly gentle, and Sam’s tears began to slip down his face. “And I didn’t know—I wasn’t sure what that moment of happiness could be. Because the one thing I wanted, I couldn’t have. But now I see, that the only way to even begin to get there, is by saying it.”
In that second, Sam realized what he meant. “But Dean isn’t here,” he whispered. “How can you—”
“I’m not talking about Dean,” Castiel said softly. “It’s you, Sam. It’s always been you.” He moved closer. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were different. How could someone with demon blood inside him look at me with such reverence? And when I held your hand in mine, though I could feel the taint of demon blood inside you, beneath it your soul was pure. Beautiful. A shining beacon of light, brighter than I’d ever seen. Even when Death brought your soul up from Hell—by all rights, you should have become a demon at that point. Thousands of years at the mercy of Lucifer and Michael should have burned away every last bit of goodness inside you. After only forty years Dean had already begun to turn. But despite the agony I could feel deep within your soul, it remained pure.” Castiel shook his head. “I can only assume that I was too flushed with victory to notice that it was only your vessel I’d brought from the Cage. And for that, Sam, I am eternally sorry.” Castiel’s eyes shone as they met Sam’s, and Sam couldn’t have looked away even if he wanted to. “Sam, throughout your whole life, whatever mistakes you made, your goodness never faded. There’s a well of love inside you, endless and eternal, that I’ve never seen before. When I hold you while you sleep, I can feel it.” Castiel’s gaze was ever more tender. “Why do you think I stay with you every night?”
Sam’s mouth was dry. “To—to help me with my nightmares.”
“Well, yes.” Castiel’s smile was wry. “But it’s more than that.” Tears were falling from his eyes now as well. “I love you, Sam Winchester.”
Suddenly, Sam could hear a strange sucking sound from behind him. He whirled about, and saw a slick, shimmering black substance emerging from the wall, just as Billie finally blew the door open. Sam turned swiftly to face her, and Castiel, who was still smiling at him, gently, so gently.
“Goodbye, Sam,” he said, reaching out to shove Sam aside. But as he did, his coat opened slightly to reveal his angel blade, and Sam knew in that instant what he had to do.
He ducked under Castiel’s hand and snatched the angel blade from his coat. Castiel’s eyes barely had time to widen before Sam had cut a slit in his throat. Grace instantly spilled from it. Sam opened his mouth wide, and the grace flew inside. Both Billie and The Empty froze. Castiel’s grace ran through his veins, his molecules, down to every single atom inside him. He fell to his knees as his body shook and the grace threatened to tear him apart. But he was Lucifer’s vessel. He could contain the grace of an archangel. And though it was more difficult to contain the grace itself without an angel to channel it, he still could. When the grace had wrapped itself around every last bit of his being, it exploded from his body. Wings, invisible to the human eye but there nonetheless, grew rapidly from his back. They spread, wide, powerful, terrifying. Beautiful. His eyes flew open. Castiel was on his knees in front of Sam, eyes shut tight. Sam looked up at Billie, whose astonished face was the last thing he saw of her before that strange, viscous substance consumed her, pulling her away. Then it returned, and materialized into...Meg.
Sam’s mouth fell open, but she simply rolled her eyes.
“I’m not her, you idiot,” she said impatiently. “I just look like her to fuck with him.” The Empty seemed utterly furious. “He and I made a deal. How am I supposed to take him now? Uncorrupted human souls can’t exist in my realm.”
“Well,” Sam said, with a bravado he didn’t quite feel. “You didn’t make a deal with me.”
It glared at Castiel. “Take back your grace. Now.”
“No,” Sam said, before Cas could reply. “It’s mine now. Which means you can’t have him.”
It stood there for a moment, clenching its fists and grinding its teeth, before finally exhaling sharply. It pointed at Castiel. “If you ever become an angel again I will take you so fast you won’t even be able to speak.” It dissolved back into black tar and disappeared into the wall. Sam instantly turned to kneel next to Castiel.
“Cas,” he said urgently. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Castiel coughed, but his eyes were shining as he looked at Sam. “You didn’t have to do that, Sam.”
“Of course I did.” Sam reached out and touched Castiel’s neck. He felt a tiny bit of grace flow from him as the cut glowed, and closed. He didn’t even have to think about it. Healing was instinctive.
“Why?” Castiel’s voice was trembling, and it was Sam’s turn to offer an impossibly gentle smile. His wings enveloped them both.
“Because I love you too.”