Season Nine

In the Impala, Dean was driving, Sam was passenger, and Alana was sitting in the back.

Sam frowned. "This makes no sense. I mean, how many angels fell -- hundreds, thousands? And nobody says anything. This is... Look at this. They're calling it a meteor shower. Seriously? What's going on with you, man? Alana? You guys okay?"

"Me?" Dean asked. "Us? Yes. We're fine. It's just-"

"It's just we got a major freakin' crap fest on our hands. Yeah, tell me about it. Thousands of superpowered dicks touching down, and we got no idea where to start."

Alana shook his head. "Angels ain't our problem right now, okay? Or demons, or Metatron, or whatever the hell happened to Cas."

Sam glanced between his brother and sister-in-law. "Why? Because we hugged it out in that church and -- and now we're gonna go to Disneyland? Dean, you said it yourself -- we're not gonna sleep til this is done."

"I know," Dean said.

"So, what's the problem?"

"You are. Look, there's no easy way to say this. But, um, something happened back in that church. And we don't know what. We don't know why. You're dying, Sammy."

A heartbeat sounded loudly and Sam retorted, "Shut up."

HOSPITAL ROOM

Sam laid with his eyes closed in a hospital bed. There was a tube in his nose and his arm was strapped to a beeping monitor. Dean and Alana were seated on either side of his bedside, the latter holding her husband's hand. Dean turned to look at the TV, which showed pictures of the angels falling. The headline read 'Global Meteor Shower'.

Dean and Alana were looking at medical scans.

The doctor said, "The MRI shows massive internal burns affecting many of the major organs. Oxygen to the brain has been severely deprived. The coma is the result of the body doing everything in its limited power to protect itself from further harm."

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Dean muttered.

"If your brother continues on this trajectory, the machines might keep him alive, but-"

"He'll be dead," Alana finished.

"Technically, yes. I'm afraid so."

She frownedbat doctor. "So, there's no chance of recovery? No bounce-back, no nothing?"

"I'm afraid that's in God's hands now."

"You're a doctor," Dean retorted. "You're a medical professional. You're trying to tell us that my brother's life is in God's hands? What, is that supposed to be a-a comfort?"

"Mr. Dougherty-"

"No. God's got nothing to do with this equation."

"I didn't mean-"

"That's not good enough." Dean left the room.

Alana made her way to the doorway. "Love?"

"Stay with Sammy. I need some time alone, okay?"

"Okay. I'll let you know if there's any change."

Dean nodded and after she walked back inside Sam's room, he noticed a sign pointing to the hospital's chapel.

He entered and sat down. "Cas, are you there? Sammy's hurt. He's hurt, uh -- he's hurt pretty bad. And, um... I know you think that I'm pissed at you, okay? But I don't care that the angels fell. So whatever you did or didn't do, it doesn't matter, okay? We'll work it out. Please, man, I need you here. We need you here." He looked around and saw six other people, sitting quietly. "Screw it. Okay, listen up. This one goes out to any angel with their ears on. This is Dean Winchester... And I need your help."

A man in a suit was having breakfast with his family.

"This is Dean Winchester..." the man in the suit looked up, "And I need your help."

"The deal is this -- Linwood Memorial Hospital..." a tall man paused and looked off into the distance, "...Randolph, New York."

"The first one who can help me gets my help, my wife's help, in return..." the man in the suit got up and left the table, "...and you know that ain't nothin'."

"Honey?" the woman called.

A farmer walked rapidly across the field towards his tractor.

Dean continued. "Hell, it's no secret that we haven't always seen eye to eye." The farmer started the tractor and drove off. "But you know that I am good for my word."

The tall man was standing by the bus, listening as Dean spoke. "And, uh, I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't needing, so..." The tall man got back on the bus.

Dean finished his prayer and looked down as a tear fell from his eye.

Alana sighed as she whispered, "Wake up. We all need you, Sam."

"Look, just because you're dying doesn't mean you're..."

COMA IMPALA

"...dead -- not yet, okay? We've jimmied ourselves out of worse. We're gonna fight this.  I got the plan. You just got to hang on. You hear me?"

"Absolutely," Sam said.

Alana raised a brow. "You think he's lying?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Dean replied, "You understand that we're not really in this car right now. We are in your head, and you're in a coma and are dying."

"How do you know that?"

"Because we're you and you're you. All of this is you. We're in your head."

Sam looked between the two of them. "You're serious." He exhaled. "The whole reason I stopped doing the trials was not to die."

Alana turned to Sam. "And the next time we see Naomi or Metatron who whoever's fault this is, we will get some justice, but for right now, Sam, we gotta fight this."

Sam glanced at Dean and Alana. "Okay. All right, what's the plan?"

"I'm working on it," Dean replied.

"What does that mean? I'm kind of dying here, apparently."

"It means I'm working on it, all right?"

"The thing is, if I am dying -- and I believe you guys. I do. But if you guys are you, but you're really me, and you're each the part of me that wants to fight to live, Alana is possibly my voice of reason..."

"Yes. I have no idea what you just said, but continue."

"But if you two don't have any idea how I'm supposed to fight, then am I supposed to be fighting at all?"

"Are you serious?"

"Hell yes, he's serious," Bobby said, appearing in the backseat. "And if you ask me, I think the kid's got a good point."

EXT. FOREST ROAD - DAY

LONGMONT, COLORADO

Castiel was walking down the road, hearing ringing noises and voices. He narrowly avoided being hit by a pickup by throwing himself to the side of the road. The pickup screeched to a halt and a man got out.

"Hey, buddy. You okay?" a man asked.

Castiel looked at his bloody palm and said, "It hurts."

"What the hell are you doing in the middle of the road like that?"

"I heard angels."

"How about we get you some water, hmm?"

"I, uh, I don't drink water."

"Dehydration's a real bitch up here, mister."

"A phone. Do you have a phone?"

"No signal up here. How about a lift, hmm?"

"Yes. Good. I would fly, but I - I have no wings, not anymore."

"Right."

INT. HOSPITAL - DAY

Sam was still unconscious, lying in his hospital bed.

Dean frowned. "Sam wants to die, and you think he's got a point?"

COMA IMPALA

"Okay, I don't want to die," Sam said. "I asked if maybe I was supposed to-"

"Shut it, Sam," Dean retorted, turning to Bobby. "You -- go. Oh, and, uh, before you throw us under the bus, you're welcome for the Hell rescue."

"Hey, first of all, you three didn't rescue jack, half-wit. Sam did," Bobby corrected. "Second of all, Sam, you're in a coma. Now, suck as that may, sometimes that's just the way things go."

"What are you talking about?" Alana asked. "There's always a way. You taught us that. Remember, Bobby?"

Bobby frowned and focused on Dean. "Oh, you mean like the way one of you idjits does some bass-ackwards crazy thing to beat death, like sell your soul?"

"Exactly like selling my soul," Dean confirmed.

"Yeah, like that worked so well the last time."

Dean waved a dismissive hand. "Oh!"

"Enough!" Sam cried. "Both of you! I can't hear myself think!"

"Well, you're not actually buying this, are you?"

"Excuse me," Bobby protested. "Are you dead? Because I am, and maybe I'm here because I'm the part of Sam that actually knows what the hell he's talking about."

"Well, I'm in the front seat because Sam put me here because he wants to fight. Alana is his consciousness, his voice of reason."

Alana nodded. "I suppose that makes sense."

Bobby appeared in the front seat, between Sam and Dean. "Well... that just got real uncomfortable. See ya, Dean, Alana." He put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Sam, don't you dare-"

Sam and Bobby disappeared.

EXT. COMA FOREST - DAY

Sam and Bobby were standing in the forest.

"Yip, yip, yip. Am I right?" Bobby said.

"Honestly, Bobby, I-I don't know what's right," Sam admitted.

Bobby put an arm around Sam's shoulder. "Let's walk."

EXT. GAS STATION - DAY

The pickup pulled across the street from the gas station. Castiel got out.

"Hey," the man called, holding out some bills.

Castiel shook her head. "No, we can't take your money."

"For the phone. And a sandwich if they have one."

"It's okay. I don't eat."

A young woman was watching them from the backseat of a car across the street.

"You'll figure something," the man said. "Hmm?" Castiel took the bills and some change. "Take care, kid." He drove away.

Castiel walked past the young woman in the car to the phone outside the gas station.

A biker was talking on the phone. "Uh-huh. Uh-huh."

"Hang up the phone," Castiel ordered.

"Right." He covered the phone and turned to face Castiel. "Excuse me?"

"This is an emergency. We don't want to hurt you."

The biker said into the phone, "Hold on, hon." He turned to Castiel. "Sure you do. Hurt me."

"I'm sorry." Castiel put two fingers to the biker's forehead and nothing happened. Castiel looked perplexed and gripped the top of the biker's head.

The biker pushed Castiel's arm away. "I'm gonna finish this call. Then I'm going to stab you and your girl; starting with her."

Castiel turned and walked away. The young woman from the car blocked their path.

"I know you," the young woman said.

"I don't think so," Castiel replied.

"Castiel. We met in Heaven. My name is Hael."

"You're an angel."

"Am I? What's an angel without its wings?"

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

Alana leaned back in the uncomfortable chair, letting out a sigh. Dean was leaning against the window frame. A woman entered, and Dean stood.

"Hi," Dean greeted. "I'm just gonna break the ice. Are you an angel?"

"Sometimes I wish I were," the woman replied. "My name is Kim Schortz, and I'm a grief counselor here at the hospital."

"Right. Yeah. Uh... Sorry. We're just tired. Well, all due respect, but, uh, I'm not grieving, neither is she -- not yet at least, so-"

"I'm afraid, as hard as this may be, this might be a good time to talk... about the inevitable."

Alana stood and said, "Look, you seem like a really nice person, and I'm sure you mean well, but for us, "inevitable" is a fightin' word. There's always a way."

"And I am a prayerful woman who believes in miracles as much as the next, but I also know how to read and EEG. And unless you two are telling me you have a direct line to those angels that you were looking for-"

Dean sighed. "Yeah, no, I, uh... Guess we don't. But, we might have something better. We got the King of Hell in our trunk."

Dean left the room and Kim frowned. "Uh, is -- is that... I'm sorry. Is that a metaphor?"

Alana shook her head. "Afraid not."

Dean walked to the Impala and rapped on the trunk. "Crowley, listen up, you son of a bitch. One for yes, two for no. You alive?"

There was no response and he taunted, "Come on, don't be a pouter."

Crowley, from inside the trunk, hit it once.

"There we go."

A man in a suit grabbed Dean by the back of the neck and held an angel blade to his throat. "You prayed?"

"Yeah, for help," Dean answered.

"Yes. You'll be helping me."

The man in the suit forced Dean down against the Impala's trunk. "If you lie to me, Dean Winchester, I will kill your wife and rip your throat out. Where is Castiel?"

"Who's asking?" Dean asked.

The man in the suit glared at him. "Try every angel who was ejected from their home."

"Oh. Oh, well, in that case, we have no clue."

The man in the suit slammed Dean against the Impala's trunk. The man in the suit raised his angel blade, but the tall man from the bus caught his arm from behind.

"Easy there, brother," the tall man stated calmly. "This young man has prayed for our assistance. Are we creatures of wrath or compassion? I would argue the latter."

"Forgive me, brother," the man in the suit said. "I don't recognize you."

"Happy to make your re-aquaintance. After you disarm."

The man in the suit let go of Dean and he held up his hand placatingly, then punched the tall man.

"Come, now. Is that any way to treat a brother injured in the fall?"

The man in the suit and the tall man fought. The angel knife fell to the ground. The man in the suit flung the tall man into a vehicle, breaking the window glass. Dean stabbed the man in the suit with the angel blade, and the man died in a blinding flash of white light.

"Who are you?" Dean asked.

The tall man was still leaning against the vehicle with blood on his face. "Never mind me. You're Dean Winchester. I heard your prayer, and I am here to help." The tall man passed out and slid to the ground.

"Okay."

EXT. GAS STATION - DAY

Castiel and Hael were sitting near the gas pumps.

"It was a normal day, and then just... dark," Hael said. "And then I was just... falling. How could that happen?"

"I don't know," Castiel lied.

"Your grace - it's... gone?"

"I do still hear angel radio, though."

"Then you've heard them - our brothers and sisters, many still circling for vessels, most just... so afraid."

"There's nothing to be afraid of. I can assure you."

"But Heaven - there was order. There was purpose."

"Well, believe it or not, there may be something even better down here."

"I don't understand."

"There's opportunity for you, the others who have fallen, to do finally what you would like to do - not just what you've been told."

"And what would I like to do?"

"You tell us. If you could do anything, what would it be?"

"There's a place. I built it when I was last here - many years ago. A grand canyon."

"The Grand Canyon, yes."

"I-I would like to see that."

Castiel smiled. "Let's go see the Grand Canyon, then."

INT. GARAGE - DAY

The tall man woke up on the ground in a circle of fire. Dean was walking around outside the flames. Alana was still in the room with Sam.

"You want to help? Start with a name," Dean demanded.

"Ezekiel," the tall man said.

"All right, Ezekiel. How do we know you're not hunting me, my wife, her sister, my kids or Castiel like the other angels?"

"Oh, I'm sure there are many angels who are. Many more are on their way here, most likely."

"How do you know that?"

"You put out an open prayer like that..."

"I must really be desperate."

Ezekiel stood. "Believe it or not, some of us still do believe in our mission. And that means we believe in Castiel... and in you."

"You said you were hurt during the fall."

"I was. Entangling with my brother back there did no favors. But what strength I have left, I offer you."

EXT. COMA FOREST - DAY

Sam and Bobby walked through the forest.

"I want to fight," Sam said. "But I just feel like..."

"Like you got nothing to swing at?" Bobby finished. "Like you're punching at shadows? You got to let go of fightin' and scratchin' and lookin' for loopholes, 'cause that ain't happenin'."

"So - so, what? I-I-I just die?"

"Just die? All the good you've done, all the people you've saved, all the sacrifices you've made? You've saved the world, son. How many people can say that? How many people can say that they have left this godforsaken hunk of dirt that much a better place? What you call dyin' I call leavin' a legacy."

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

Alana shook her head, letting Dean know there was no change. Ezekiel placed a hand on Sam's chest.

"You still able to cure things after the fall?" Dean questioned.

"Yes, I should be, but... he's so weak."

"Who is he?" Alana asked suspiciously.

"Ezekiel. He's an angel," Dean told her. "He says he can help."

"Hmm. Okay." She narrowed her eyes, suspicious of the angel.

Dean's phone rang and he answered. "Who is this?"

"Dean," Castiel said.

Dean walked out of Sam's room.

"Cas, what the hell is going on?" Dean wondered.

"Metatron tricked me. It wasn't angel trials. It was a spell. I wanted you to know that."

"Okay. That's great, but we got ourselves a problem."

"What's wrong?"

"Sam. He's, um -- they say he's dying."

"What happened?"

Dean let out a heavy sigh. "We don't know. I mean, first he was okay, then he wasn't. And I -- have you heard my prayers? I've been praying to you all night."

"Dean, Metatron -- he -- he took my grace."

"What?"

"Don't worry about me. What are you and Alana doing for Sam?"

"Uh, everything we can," Dean replied. "There's actually another angel in there working on him right now."

"What other angel?"

"Uh, his name is Ezekiel. He's cool."

"Ezekiel. Yes." Castiel smiled. "He's a good soldier. He should be able to help until I get there."

Dean frowned. "Wait, no, no, no. No, hey, that's not an option."

"It might be a few days, but-"

"Hey, Cas, listen to me. There are angels out there, okay? And they -- they're looking for you, and they're pissed."

"Not all of them, Dean. Some are just looking for direction. Some are just lost."

"What are you talking about?"

"I met one. I think I can help her, Dean."

"No, Cas, I know you want to help, okay? I do, but helping angels is what got you two in trouble in the first place. Now, I'm begging you -- for once, look out for yourself. Until we figure out what the hell is going on, trust nobody."

"And do what? Just abandon them all?"

"Damnit, Cas. You hearing yourself? There's a war on, and it's on you. There's thousands of them out th -- You said you lost your grace, right? That means you're human. That means you bleed and you eat and you sleep and all the things you never had to worry about before."

"I'm fine, Dean."

There were rumbling sounds at the hospital.

"Whoa," Dean mumbled.

"What's going on?"

"I think we got some company."

"Look, get your ass to the bunker alone. You hear me?"

"Dean."

"Go, Cas!"

"Dean."

Dean hung up and went back into Sam's room.

"One of yours?" Dean asked.

"Trying to secure a vessel," Ezekiel explained. "We need to move."

Alana shook her head. "No, no. If we move him, he dies."

"If we stay, we could all die."

Dean picked up a whiteboard marker and drew Enochian symbols on the walls.

EXT. GAS STATION - DAY

"I don't understand," Hael said. "I'll come with you two. We can see your friend together."

"It's complicated," Castiel told her. "There could be trouble. It's - it's best if I go alone. My - My friend - he... needs my help."

"I need help."

"You can do this, Hael. This is your chance to help people, to help yourself. I'm sorry."

Castiel turned away. Hael picked up a length of wood and