Heaven and Hell: The Grand Story

XXI.

Sam and Dean woke up around 8 the next morning. They got dressed and went down to breakfast, along with Castiel, Cole, and Kelsey. Dean got waffles, eggs, and coffee, while Sam got eggs, bacon, and orange juice. They quickly finished and threw away their plates. When they left, out of the corner of Kelsey's eye, she saw the man behind the desk smile.
They got into the impala and left the hotel, getting back on highway 35. Dean impatiently drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel, driving down the same stretch of road they had been driving down since they left Lawrence.
"How much longer, Dean?" Cole asked.
"I dunno Cole, maybe another 10 hours. You know, you didn't have to come with us if you didn't want to, you could've stayed back at the bunker with Thomas and Claire."
"He's just impatient, Dean," Kelsey added, "don't be so rude. Like you said, we've got another 10 hours trapped in this car with each other. Might as well not hate each other."
Dean didn't reply. Instead, he stepped on the gas.
"Hey, buddy," Cole leaned forward, "she's right, I've spent way too many hours in this car with you. But in case you've forgotten, which is entirely possible, that I'm a high tier angel just like Kallisandria."
"Oh yeah?" Dean looked at Cole through the rear view mirror. "And what can you do?"
Sam looked at Dean, then to Cole, then back. "Dean-"
Cole didn't reply to Dean. Instead, he stared at him through the rear view mirror.
Suddenly, the clear afternoon sky filed with dark, almost black clouds. With it came rain, thunder, and lightning.
Sam looked up through the front window. "What the-"
"Cole!" Kelsey yelled. He didn't break the stare with Dean. "Cole!" Her voice quite literally echoed throughout the impala, Sam heard a ringing in his ears afterward.
"What can I do?" Cole laughed, still talking to Dean. "Oh, a lot more than you think."
The storm shrunk back down until the sky was a light blue again.
"What was that?" Castiel asked. "I've never seen an angel do that, even one as powerful as you."
"He and I were trained by greek gods during the time of the Roman Empire," Kelsey explained, "he wasn't created with the abilities, they just...came."
Sam sighed. "Good to know."
As they made their way into Urbandale, highway 35 turned into highway 80, going east. Going down that long stretch of road that was hardly able to call itself a highway reminded Kelsey of a better time, back in Lawrence. Back when things weren't complicated. But was there ever a time that things truly weren't?

Then, Kelsey was in a small office, and everything was a glowing silvery-white. She was facing a white windowless wall, and when she turned around, she saw an angel that was all too familiar.
"Barchiel," she started, "how impatient could you possibly be?"
He was wearing a black suit with a white undershirt and no tie. His hands were at his sides, his fingers clutched around the cuffs of his black overcoat. His expression was like a rock, hard and unforgiving. His jaw line was tight, and his already-short black hair was spiked up directly above his forehead.
"You know that's not why I bring you here, Kallisandria." he said. His voice matched his demeanor, it was deep and cold-hearted. Kelsey sighed and waited for him to continue. "To go along with what you've told the Winchesters, there will be a portal in Roger's City. It will lead you to a room of beauty, in its own way. You must not let the two other angels on your journey come into the room to interfere. And it's there that you will do what has to be done. Am I clear?"
"Cole is with us," she shook her head, "he'll know. He's the one that made the portal from heaven to earth, he can certainly make a portal to follow me."
Barchiel walked over to where he was standing directly in front of her. "Then contain it. Yes?"
Kelsey wasn't given time to respond before she was back in the car with Sam, Dean, Cole, and Castiel. She could feel the tension still between Dean and Cole.
"So, Kelsey," Sam said awkwardly, "what happens if we can't close the portals? What happens then? Do we have a backup plan?"
"No," she bluntly answered, "so you better make this shot count."
Sam sighed as Dean drove on.
"Dean," Cole asked, "what was your father like?"
"What?" He snapped, slamming on the brakes, throwing everyone forward.
"Your father," he repeated, "John. Did he have as bad a temper as you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Getting snappy," he continued, "holding a grudge." Dean put his foot on the gas, and they quickly made their way to 70 miles an hour. "Not speaking. And," Cole laughed, "most of all," he paused, leaned forward, and whispered, "being classified as an alcoholic by most people just because things happen that you don't want to remember the next day."
Dean was breathing heavily. He turned around to face Cole, and Sam grabbed the wheel and screamed, "Dean, eyes on the road!"
He swerved over the left lane and back onto the right side of the road, talking to Cole through the rear view mirror.
"You don't know anything about John Winchester."
"Actually," Cole started, "I do, Dean. You see, I've watched him and Mary, who could do a lot better by the way, before you were even thought about. I know you wanna be a good person, Dean, so please, for once in your life, think about someone other than yourself and your brother." He paused to take a breath. "Because this very moment right now, the thing that's in Michigan could possibly stop the apocalypse, okay? And you're the only one who can do it."
Dean turned around once again, taking both hands off the wheel, not letting up on the gas, which was still at 70 miles an hour.
He faced back to Cole once again. "Who gave you the-"
"Dean!" Sam yelled.
Dean turned around and saw a black lump laying in the center of the right side of the road. He slammed on the brakes and swerved off the side of the road, crashing into a ditch between the road and another soy bean field.
Everyone in the car was breathing hard. After a few seconds, they all got out to see what the thing was in the road.
As they got closer, Kelsey could make out a long, black coat and perfectly creased black pants. The short hair on the back of his head was slicked down with too much product. He was facing the opposite direction, so it was hard to make out any details of the man's face.
Sam ran around the front of him to help the man to his feet. "Hi, sir," he said, "what's your name?"
"Christopher," he told Sam, still facing him. His voice hoarse, he added, "but most people call me Chris."
When he finally stood up straight, Sam's eyes widened. "Kelsey," he said, sounding urgent, "get over here, he's bleeding. Pretty badly."
She rushed over to help the man. She quickly healed him and looked into his eyes.
There, smirking back at her, was Barchiel.