Back To Me | Dean Winchester [6]

Chapter 30: Can't you pester me any other time?

The French Mistake 1

"Where's Bobby?" Sam asked as he walked into said hunter's living room to find Dean sitting at the desk, looking at an open laptop. The storm outside was raging, thunder crashing, lightning brightening up sky and rain pouring.

"In town. Supply run." Dean answers, setting down the empty bottle of liquor.

"In this?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, man's a hero. We are officially our of hunter's helper." Dean held up the bottle. Dean looked out of the window. "You know, Maddie hates storms. They scare her to death."

Sam set the stack of books down that he held. "Speaking of, Alex showed up again today when you were out. She demanded to see you."

"She still in town?" Dean asked, sighing. He had been barely escaping as the days went on. It had only been a week but he missed both Alexis and Madilyn so much. Dean figured Alexis would have to give up eventually. . .Right?

"Don't know." Sam replies as the electricity crackles, the lights flickering. "Call her and find out."

"Hello, boys." Balthazar appeared behind the two. He quickly walked to the other side of the desk where Dean stood. "You've seen The Godfather, right?"

"Balthazar?" Dean asked.

"You know, when Michael Corleone send his men to kill his enemies in one big, bloody swoop." Balthazar placed a bowl on the desk and grabbed the carton of salt.

"Hey." Dean says.

"Dead sea brine. Good, good, good." Balthazar poured the salt in the bowl. "Then Moe Greene gets hit in the eye. Don Cuneo gets it in the revolving door."

"I said hey."

"You did." Balthazar looked up at Dean. "Twice. Good for you." He patted Dean on the shoulder. "Blood of lamb. Blood of lamb." Balthazar returned to his original task. He was suddenly by the fridge, digging through. "Yeah. Who keeps their blood of lamb--Yes. Blood of lamb." He straightens up, inspecting the jar.

"Why are you talking about The Godfather?" Sam asked.

"Because we're in it right now. Tonight." Balthazar appeared back at the desk. "And in the role of Michael Corleone: the archangel Raphael."

"Mind telling us what you mean?" Dean asks as Balthazar poured the lamb blood into the bowl.

Balthazar sighs. "No, no, no." He mutters. "No, no, no." He repeats as he digs through Bobby's desk. "Yes." He smiles after dumping all of the contents of the drawers out onto the chair. "Bone of a lesser saint. This vertebra will do very nicely. Your Mr. Singer does keep a beautiful pantry." Balthazar opens the small bag and drops the bone into the bowl.

"Wait. Raphael is after you?" Dean questions.

"Raphael is after us all." Balthazar corrects. "You see, he consolidated his strength and now he's on the move."

"And where's Cass?" Sam asked.

Balthazar moved toward the window with the bowl of blood, bones, and salt in hand. "Oh, Cassie? He is deep, deep underground. So good old Raphie put out a hit list on every last Samaritan who helped our dear old Cass. Including both of you. Oh, you're missing one. Eh, she'll be fine. Eden won't let him get to her. She wants to kill her personally. Anyway, and so much more importantly, me. So he wants to draw Cass out in the open."

"You expect us to just believe you?" Sam asked.

"Oh, don't." Balthazar began drawing a sigil on the window. "You'll go where I throw you, either way."