Chapter 7:

It took Ambriel 30 minutes to gather the ingredients for a proper summoning. She insisted on a traditional summoning, seeing as it was the only one that angels would be forced to enter. The only thing she needed, before 'getting the show on the road' was some holy oil.

"Why do you need holy oil? You'll trap yourself in it," Bobby questioned, rummaging through the closet dedicated to all the 'weird weapons' he owned, like holy oil or a ram horn.

"Just because it can hurt me, doesn't mean I'll kill myself with it. You humans use bleach on everything and don't say to each other 'Gee, Malcolm, why do you need this bleach, if you drink it you'll die.' I mean, if you were at a mental hospital-" She ranted harshly.

"I wouldn't give the crazies bleach," Bobby replied, handing her a thick book.

"This isn't holy oil," Ambriel said somewhat suspiciously.

"No shit, Sherlock, it's to kill book worms. If it touches the ground it won't work no more," Bobby told her. "This is the holy oil," he pulled out a simple clay jar and took the book from her hands.

"Thank you," Ambriel took the jar lightly in her hands, "Tell Crowley that I want to start within the hour; I have no problem starting without him and I will kill him if he enters after I start the summoning." She thought for a moment, "Please have yourself or Jody present during the summoning, I don't trust him alone," she muttered lowly.

"Wise move if there ever was one," Bobby snorted, "Where ya doing all this summoning business?"

"Anywhere works," Ambriel snarled, "I was going to do it in the study but the kids are in there and Bath Kol would scare 'em."

"I'll see if Jody or I can take 'em somewhere like out for Chinese food or something," Bobby commented, "Just ta keep 'em outta the way. You can work in the basement, I don't want a hole in my floor."

"It'd be a holy hole," Ambriel smiled for a second and laughed at her own joke, only to quickly mask it with the same emotionless look and tone she had steadily maintained before, "But yeah, I guess that's cool. We can work downstairs. You go figure out who's making sure Crowley doesn't push me in the fire. I'll go set up." With that she picked up the basket next to her that she filled with the materials she needed and went downstairs, every step filling the house with a bit of dread, a taste of fear and the echo of a soldier's march.

When it finally came down to it, Bobby was present for the summoning and Jody, Castiel, Dean and Sammy were in the panic room. Jody was actually panicking, Sammy was helping Dean build a fort and Castiel was sleeping with a stuffed animal clutched so tightly his pale fingers were snow white.

Before shoving them in the room, Bobby shoved a dream catcher on a string into Jody's hands with instructions to put it around Castiel's neck if he fell back asleep. Currently, it was around Castiel's neck and once every so often Sammy would try to take one of the beads off it.

"Sam! Leave Castiel alone, let him sleep," Jody scolded as she paced around in the back of the room. "Come on, Jody, if you want to be a hunter you'll have to man up. Stuff like this will happen all the time," she muttered to herself. It was she mantra she adopted since she was locked into the panic room. Suddenly she felt a small tug on her sleeve and looked down instinctively. Dean looked up at her, eyes wide.

"Daddy says that as long as there's salt on the door we'll be safe. No worrying," he offered. "He said that bad things happen to people when they aren't ready, but we are." Dean said with such conviction that Jody believed him, if only a little bit.

Meanwhile, in the basement, an angel and a demon stood opposite of each other outside a ring of holy oil. Both chanting a summoning that hadn't been used since God went AWOL. Bobby stood back, in the corner, holding the angelic sword that he got his hands on over a year ago. He stood, dumbfounded, as they spoke harmony with dull tones. Later, he'd learn that all the words had to be separated by an exact period of time, in an exact way.

As the last numb word was spoken, Ambriel cut a slit on her hand and allowed the blood to drip just outside the circle. Almost as soon as a drop hit the ground the building shook. A very pissed looking man with a white beard and turban appeared inside the circle. Crowley dropped a match, lighting it.

"Hello, sister," the man spat.

"Bath Kol," Ambriel nodded, pulling out her sword again, her voice firm. She wouldn't let it betray her this time. The only way to beat an angel, to her, was to have the emotion of one. None.

"Violence again?" The man asked.

"You're messing with my charges, Bath," she snarled, "I told you to stop that."

"What are you going to do about it? I'm safe here in my circle," Bath Kol smirked.

"That's the thing," Ambriel gave a fake smile, "I brought a friend, Crowley, and if you remember he hasn't gotten to torment any angels lately; I hear he's itching for the chance."

"Oh, I am, love," Crowley gave the trapped angel a lethal smirk, "I have a special place in the pit. Just. For. You." He had a sweet tone of voice that gave the smirk a newer, more dangerous edge.

"Wanna know the best part?" Ambriel gave a dark chuckle and ran her free hand over her face, "Since Father isn't around you don't have anyone that loves you enough to save you."

"If this is suppose to be a 'good cop, bad cop' gig you aren't doing it too well," Bath Kol pressed, "One of you is supposed to be helpful and get me out if I play along."

"We've decided to try something new," Crowley told Bath Kol, "And I'm in it for the fun."

"I'm not letting you free, not a chance. This is the 'transfer' section. I want answers, then Crowley gets his fun and I don't back out on deals," she hissed, the end sounding like a snake's final warning.

"What do you even get out of it?" Bath Kol asked.

"You," the sword touched Bath Kol's chest, just barely, "Staying away from my charges, forever."

"I haven't touched your charges since 108 BC," Bath Kol snarked.

"You, me, and the angel all know that that's a lie," Crowley told him, "I remember an incident when a charge went-"

"Shut. Up." Ambriel said through her teeth.

"You-" Bath Kol pointed to Bobby, "Human, go get the popcorn. I love a good internal fight."

"Oh no, it doesn't work that way," Ambriel seethed, "Tell me why you're messing with my charges, or so help me, I will put my sword through your chest and your head on a stick, as a warning."

"When did you get so...graphic, sister?" Bath Kol cheekily asked.

"They say that 'civil blood makes civil hands unclean,'" Ambriel pondered for a moment. "I'd make an exception for you, but I'm used to getting my hands dirty by now."

"It," Crowley pointed at Bath Kol, "Is hardly civil, darling. I wouldn't worry about any 'unclean hands.'"

"Romeo and Juliet, how clever," Bath Kol said dryly. "Before you kill me, just know, I haven't touched whatever charge it is that you have this time. However, I was told not to interfere. The orders came from higher up on the chain. Some say it's from Father and you know what that means."

"I'm done. Take him, Crowley." Ambriel waved off, turning her back, as if to leave. She despised cowards that tried to blame Father.

"Can you really do that, sister? Will you be able to live with yourself? What about look in the mirror everyday?" Bath Kol challenged.

"With ease, that's how I'll do it," she said after a moment, almost faltering. "Get him out of my sight." She sounded troubled and ran up the stairs. As she reached for the door Bobby interjected.

"Nobody's going to hell that don't belong there," Bobby decided. "This whole thing is fucked. He might be a bastard but that don't mean that you can hall him off." Crowley just stared at him and Ambriel stood frozen, eyes wide and resembling a deer caught in someone's headlights, hand dusting over the door.

"A reasonable man," Bath Kol smiled. "A good man if there ever was one."

"Shut it," Bobby snapped. "Try anything and you're dead. We clear?"

"Crystal," Bath Kol smirked, running a hand down his gray beard.

With that promise, Bobby grabbed a small bag of salt with one hand and kept the sword in the other. He was the only thing moving in the basement. Once he was at the fire the bag was opened with a single, swift slice of the sword and knocked over with his foot. Bath Kol smirked and strode out of the fire over the rocky salt.

"Oops," he smiled wide, "I lied, you lot have always been gullible. Didn't expect the mud monkeys to rub off on either of you, though," Bath smiled wide at Crowley and Ambriel. "But war changes everything. I'll be taking off then, your human ought to enjoy seeing a real angel." As soon as the words finished he started to glow. "You're darling little boys ought to have fun and I have so much planned for little Cassy." As he spoke the voice got more and more pitched and less and less human.

Bobby threw the free hand up over his eyes and began to wildly swing the sword around where the angel's chest ought to , he felt the sword meet a resistance and then the familiar feel of metal meeting someone's flesh. He kept thrashing the sword and stabbing the area until the bright glow died down. Cracking one eye open Bobby confirmed that, no, he was not blind and that, yes, the angel was dead.

Crowley looked around wildly, in disbelief as to the fact that he was still alive. As far as he knew, this made him the first demon to survive an angel showing it's true form. He took off as soon as he looked over to see that Bobby was fine, not that he had any clue what he'd do if the hunter was dead, or even injured.

The body on the ground looked serene. Not that Bobby had ever known of an angel that didn't leave behind a peacefully dead corpse. It didn't matter though, how the corpse looked. It was going to be burnt, in true hunter tradition, and that was a fact of life. If a hunter had a body on their hands, they burnt it as soon as they could.

"Let me help," Bobby heard from the stairway, a small sob was heard before Ambriel continued. "He was my brother," the click of shoes and the creek of the stairs was heard.

"If you're sure," Bobby was unable to tell if having her help would be the best thing for her.

"I have to do this," once she reached the body she shut the corpse's eyelids, "I'm the reason he's dead," she whispered mournfully, grabbing a wrist and pulling the body across the basement.

Once the body was outside, Bobby let the boys and Jody out of the panic room. As soon as the door opened to reveal Bobby, Jody let out a sigh of relief and hugged him tight. The boys seemed to forget that they spent God-Only-Knows-How-Long in the room and came barreling out in some kind of wrestling match.

"What happened? How did it go?" Jody asked in one breath as she let go of Bobby.

"The boys are safe now," his eyes shifted to the window where, from just the right angle, a large fire and a person standing next to it, wings blinking in and out of existence as fast as a hummingbird's wings, could be seen.

Jody's hand went to her mouth in shock and she had a sympathetic look on her face. "The poor girl," she whispered, "I think I'll go talk to her, see if there's anything I can do," with long strides Jody went out to comfort Ambriel.

30 minutes later Jody left with the sun. Bobby put the boys to bed a bit later, giving them a dinner of cold turkey and dry potatoes. Whenever he was asked about the smoky scent he deflected the question and read them a book. That night he didn't sleep a wink.

Ambriel entered the house about an hour before sunrise. She smelt of smoke and death. Her wings had disappeared and her eyes were puffy.

"I think I ought to go," she told Bobby, wiping a stray tear from her eye. "I've finished my review, you get to keep the kids," she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

In a simple motion she pushed past him and grabbed the bag that held most of her things. Awkwardly, she worked around the tree to grab the last few things. She found a few weapons in the trunk of the Impala that fit her perfectly. Bobby said she could have them. He already had enough knives and guns and flasks. As long as she didn't take anything important, like Ruby's knife, it was hers for the picking. The ones she wanted she quickly put in what looked like a metal briefcase that appeared beside her. She half-heartedly shoved a few pages in the messenger bag she arrived with and wiped away the tears and sniffles.

"I have other charges to look after and I can't be here right now. Not after what happened yesterday, I might have hated him, but Bath was my brother. While his death was just and deserved, and I don't blame you at all, I can't stay around this house." She snapped the briefcase closed. "I'll leave after breakfast, the boys ought to get a goodbye."