REVIVE ▸ d. winchester [2] ✔

Chapter 7

Dean makes his way down the dark hallway, stopping in front of the first door he sees. Opening it up and peeking in, he finds an empty bedroom, furnished with a simple twin sized bed and a wooden nightstand. Satisfied, he steps in and shuts the door slowly behind him. His exhaustion was finally catching up with him, and he needed a good nights' rest.

With his back to the door, he leans against it and nods his head back, closing his eyes. Exhaling deeply, he stands in the silence of the small bedroom, hidden away in the cabin found in the dense woods of Maine.

Dean stands and thinks, letting everything sink in, alone.

Jackie is dead.

And Gabriel is alive.

Dean wasn't bothered by these simple facts. He had already had time to process these, no matter if he wanted to or not. What bothered him were Gabriel's words. Dean was glad Gabriel was alive, but what he had told them he would have rather not heard. He wasn't ready for it. He simply wanted to unhear it all.

"I've been watching Azrael since he first started his experiments. I never would have thought the deluded son of a bitch would get this far. I mean, storming heaven? That's not something you see every day. But the angel isn't just an angel- he's the Angel of Death, and he's got powers that even archangels don't have.

"I'm not saying its impossible to stop him, but with what he's planning, and with what he's already accomplished, we're fifty steps behind him.

"I've watched him kill countless of my brothers and sisters in heaven. He's building an army of angels to help him create an army of hybrids. Who knows what he'll do from there. But that's not what I'm concerned about.

"Azrael is looking for power. And he's going to get it from ancient artifacts, ones that I myself have only seen once. In some cases, not at all. They're Hands of God, weapons of archangels- anything that yields the power of heaven. I know for a fact he already has possession of the Lance of Michael. How he got it in the first place is past my pay grade. The Lance was created by Michael himself. It was designed to kill good beings slowly and the evil ones fast, so if Azrael is able to wield that power... Like I said. He's fifty steps ahead of us.

"And that's just one artifact that I'm even aware of. He could have so many others by now. There's the Rod of Aaron. It contains God's power and could easily destroy an archangel. Then there's the Horn of Joshua, also a Hand of God. And I'm sure you boys are familiar with the Colt. It can kill anything, as long as you've got the right kind of bullet.

"He's been killing angels for information on the wearabouts of these artifacts for weeks. And we've got to find them first. We do that, and we cut our fifty step trail by half."

Dean stands still in the dark, his thoughts swimming wildly through his mind. He couldn't take it all anymore. How had it managed to get this bad? This wasn't supposed to happen.

It was just a hunt in North Carolina. Just a simple recruitment of a girl who had a reputation that could kill all by itself. She was supposed to return back to Faulkton, to where she had a family with her father and her dog. She was supposed to go home.

Jackie wasn't suposed to die.

Dean's fists tighten against the door. With a deep breath, he looks to the floor, staring at his feet for a moment before throwing one back against the door. As his heel hits the solid wood, he ignores the pain and pushes away, beginning to pace.

Before long, his fingers are running through his hair. His heart rate picks up as he breathes in and out heavily, searching for the right amount of air in his lungs. But he doesn't find it. His chest begins to ache, the pain moving throughout his stomach and slowly clenching his heart. Soon he can feel a roaring beat in his ears, and he can hear every labored breath inside of him, just as if he were underwater.