CHP.5 Take This Job and Shove It.

"The whaddy what of who now?" Dean spluttered. "Naw naw mate, wrong people nope, no way absolutely not, we're not being no uh-"

"Vessels." Castiel supplied calmly, looking for all the world like he expected this denial.

"Hang on, hang on what does that mean?" Sam leaned forward to peer at Castiel anxiously. Dean knew the kid was gonna need glasses if he kept trying to read tiny writing by streetlights passing by in the impala or by crappy motel lamps.

"It means you are destined to hold the Devil, Sam, to start the Apocalypse." Cas's face was stone serious and Dean nearly swayed sitting as he tried to swallow. The horror on Sam's face quickly morphed into his ever-present thinking face.

"You said angels don't possess like demons, right?" Sam said slowly, before jumping up and dashing to Bobby's bookshelf (one of many).

"Sam, the hell are you doin'?" Bobby barked, paler than Dean had ever seen him. He got no answer as Castiel replied to Sam's earlier question.

"That is correct. Angels require permission to enter a body."

"And will the person get dead? Like your person?" The innocent question from a confused Adam made them all freeze. "I don't want Sammy to die! The Devil is bad, innit he? Is he gonna take Sammy away?! De' we can't let him." Adam clutched at Deans arm, who barely felt it through the rushing in his ears and the numbing rage pumping through his veins.

"No Adam, the Devil ain't gonna get Sam, and no other skanky angel gonna get me either."

"I'm gonna pour a drink." Bobby decided. "And then, I'm gonna kick the ass of whoever decided that some assholes were gonna try bounce my boys around and get hoppin' over some Apocalypse bullshit."

"Exactly-no not the drink Bobby-that's exactly it right?" Sam hopped over excitedly. "We gotta agree, don't we, that's the catch? To let uh…Lucifer and Michael (as in big scary swordy archangel Michael? Yikes) possess us. We'll just say no!" Sam was beaming like he'd won a Nobel Prize and Dean felt like he was gonna throw up.

Castiel looked mildly constipated. "While Sam is correct, I'm afraid it might not be so easy. There are many ways my superiors can force the issue."

"I'd like to see them try. We can't just let the Apocalypse happen, we won't! Right Dean? Dean?"

Dean looked at a tearful Adam and Sam's brave, brave face, goofy hair and eyes too intelligent for his own good. And he knew immediately he'd say yes to anything for his brothers, if the 'issue' got anyway forced, like he always did and always would without a shred of regret. He didn't have the same strength as Sam. Not anymore. The childish hope and ideation of a light at the end of the tunnel that Sam had? Gone, replaced only by a future with a barrel of a gun.

"Sure Sammy, but I think the apocalypse is just a paygrade or two above a ghost hunt dontcha think?" he smiled weakly as Sam frowned and Castiel stilled.

"Goddamn Apocalypse aside for just a moment." Bobby interjected. "None of what you just said explains why you'd warn us of this at all, Castiel. Especially if these superiors of yours are as all rounded as you say… then how and why'd you come here?"

Castiel hesitated. "I have long suspected that it would be better to hedge my bets with the Winchesters rather than any of my own kind. Your strength is exemplary. As for my superiors…it is not the first time I have 'gone rogue' as they say. Rather a vague description since it covers only every bit of free will and thinking altogether. I believe it is their desire for the Apocalypse to occur."

"So you're telling me, the angels are the one's rooting for this Apocalypse? Why the hell would they do that?" Bobby cried.

"I do not know." Castiel frowned, "perhaps they wish to amuse themselves with a new batch of ants, perhaps they think it's our Fathers wishes. We are not to know."

"Your Father-great, now Gods a thing. Can't he just rock up and save all of us 'ants' or what?" Dean snapped.

"We do not know where he is."

"You lost God?!"

"Yes! No! He left." Castiel huffed.

"Wow. Warriors of the Lord have Daddy issues."

"Jesus, Sam!"

"What?! It's true."

"No, it is not. There was a man called Jesus, but he was most certainly not the son of God though he did have revolutionary taste in footwear."

This got an oblivious Castiel a round of psyched out stares and made Adam laugh while he looked at his own feet.

"What kinda shoes did he wear Cas?"

Castiel opened his mouth to answer and Bobby slammed his hand down on the table.

"Enough of this damned bullshit. How, when and why is this Apocalypse gonna start? You better start answering or I'm gonna start shootin'."

Castiel frowned, as though Bobby was an extremely inconvenient fly around his head and his interruption was completely unjustified.

"Well that depends on the demons. It is, as you humans say, their move."

"You winged dicks are working with demons too?!" Bobby's hand tightened on the trigger, his voice tightening and his blood boiling.

"Demons." Dean muttered to himself, as Sam collapsed on the chair, finally pale as the situation became slightly more imminent and dangerous.

"Frickin demons. Shit man this is way above our paygrade, we don't do demons."

"Well unfortunately you'll have to. They will be trying to free Lucifer. He is their father after all."

"He's the father of demons?!" Sam paused mid-rant "that would explain a lot actually. But like…how?"

"Out of spite for God really."

"Ah." Sam nodded as if that explained everything, as if spiting one's father was good enough reason to create a race of body-stealing scum. Well if that wasn't slightly worrying.

"Does this mean demons have Daddy issues too?"

It was not Castiel who answered but the smarmiest of voices "Unfortunately yes, it seems to be a common trope. Hello, boys."