Henry let out a long sigh before slowly raising his hand. "Well... there goes the peaceful option."
He looked around the room. "So, who agrees with my plan to disappear and hide for a while?"
His hand remained raised. "As expected, those feathered dicks just had to play all high and mighty."
Without a word, Bobby raised his hand as well.
Henry nodded in satisfaction. "See? Bobby gets it."
Dean looked from Bobby to Henry with an expression that suggested they had both lost their minds. "You two serious?"
Bobby leaned back and folded his arms. "As a heart attack." He pointed at Dean and Sam.
"The hell's wrong with you boys? Every time things go sideways, your first instinct is to run straight at the son of a bitch causin' it."
"That's kinda the job," Dean shrugged.
"No. The job is killin' monsters. The job ain't gettin' yourselves killed because you're too damn stubborn to back off for five minutes."
Sam rested his elbows on the table. "Bobby—"
"No, Sam." Bobby jabbed a finger toward the window.
"You've got demons after you, angels after you, and the damn Apocalypse knockin' at the front door. If there was ever a time to lay low and figure things out, it's now."
Henry looked at Dean with a smug grin. "I'm starting to like the old man."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
***
That night, a flash of white light illuminated Bobby Singer's salvage yard, followed by a low rumble of thunder rolling across the sky. The front door swung open without a knock.
Castiel stepped inside.
Bobby was sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of whiskey beside an open lore book. He glanced up, took another drink, and set the bottle down.
"Well, if you dragged your feathered ass all the way out here lookin' for those boys, you wasted the trip. They ain't here."
Castiel remained near the doorway, his expression unreadable. "I know."
Bobby narrowed his eyes. "Then why're you here?"
"I came to speak with you."
Bobby let out a humorless chuckle. "I can't say the feelin's mutual." He folded his arms and stared at Castiel.
"Usually when one of you winged sons of bitches shows up at my door, somebody ends up dead."
Castiel ignored the insult. "Dean Winchester has chosen to protect Henry."
"Damn right he has. That's what family does."
"By doing so, he has chosen to stand against Heaven."
Bobby snorted. "Seems to me Heaven picked that fight first."
Silence lingered between them until Bobby finally broke it. "So what now?" He gestured toward Castiel with his bottle.
"You here to threaten me, kill me, or preach? I'd appreciate knowin' which one before I pour another drink."
"I came to give you a warning."
Bobby's expression hardened. "Well—"
"Castiel. Fancy seeing you again."
Everyone turned toward the hallway. Henry walked in holding a knife, fresh blood dripping from a cut across his palm. Smeared across the wall behind Castiel was a large blood sigil.
The moment Castiel saw it, his eyes widened. "You—"
Henry didn't let him finish. He pressed his bleeding palm against the center of the symbol.
The sigil erupted with blinding white light. A shockwave burst through the room, forcing Bobby to shield his eyes. The light lasted only a second before disappearing completely.
When Bobby lowered his arm, Castiel was gone.
Dean and Sam hurried out of the next room. "Did that work?" Dean asked, looking around.
Henry glanced at the blood sigil, now faded and burned into the wall. "Yep." He let out a breath. "That feathered dick's gone for a while."
The original plan had been to stay hidden and avoid attracting Heaven's attention for as long as possible.
That changed only at the last moment, when Anna suddenly remembered something — fragments of memories from her time as an angel, including a banishment sigil used by Heaven to force angels back to where they came from.
Henry had recreated the symbol from her description, and fortunately, it had worked.
Henry sat down on the sofa and looked at Anna. "Well, now that we've bought ourselves some time, we should focus on finding your grace."
Anna nodded. "If I get my grace back, I won't have to keep running from both demons and angels."
Sam frowned. "What exactly is grace?"
"It's the source of an angel's power." Henry paused.
"Think of it as the essence that makes an angel an angel. Without their grace, they're just like humans — they can bleed, they can die, and they lose almost all of their abilities."
Dean looked at Henry. "So you've got grace too?"
"Yeah."
Dean immediately grinned. "So... can we borrow some?"
Henry gave him a flat look. "No."
"Had to ask."
"My grace is part of me. It's not something I can hand over."
Anna looked down at her hands before raising her head. "If I can recover mine... demons won't be able to use me anymore, and Heaven won't be able to treat me like a helpless human."
Bobby folded his arms. "All right." He looked at Anna. "Any idea where this grace of yours is?"
"That's what we have to find," Henry said.
*****
🔥 For Advanced Chapters Join My Patreon 🔥
👉 patreon.com/DeathNote4455
🚀 Get early access to 24 Advanced chapters.