Marked (Supernatural) [Rogue Trilogy] {2}

29. The Inside Man and the Scribe of God

29. The Inside Man and the Scribe of God

This kind of stuff just has to involve candles and sitting around at a table. Let me guess, we'll be holding hands and chanting Latin next.

Oliver Pryce, Sam, Cas, and myself are seated around a table.

"You got anything that belonged to the deceased?" Pryce asks.

"Yes. Right here," says Sam, producing a hat from a bag. I lick my lips as I observe the hat on the table. I can picture Bobby underneath it, although I don't like how I notice a hole in the upper part of it. I shudder, not wanting to imagine how Bobby bit the dust.

"Good. Now shut up and hold hands." Looking nervously, we all take hands. Pryce closes his eyes. "Amate spiritus obscure, Te quaerimus. Te oramus, nobiscum colloquere, apud nos circita."

"Uh, what do we do now?" I whisper.

"Guess we give it a try, see if we get anything in response," Sam says. "Bobby? Bobby, can you hear me? Bobby, we need your help."

For a while, I begin to think that this is wasted time for us.

But then we all hear it, clear as day: "Sam?"

I gasp out loud. I haven't heard Bobby's voice in...it's been at least two decades, I think. "B-Bobby?"

"Who else is with you, Sam?"

"You're not gonna believe it when you hear it. It's me, Bobby. Josette."

"Nah, that's not Jo. She doesn't sound like that."

I chuckle. "Bobby, you've missed a hell of a lot since you've been gone."

"She's right, Bobby," says Sam. And he begins to tell what Bobby has missed out on: mostly about Leviathans, nasty creatures which I'm glad I never got to meet; trials that Sam nearly killed himself doing all to shut down the gates of Hell (which obviously didn't happen); angels falling out of Heaven thanks to Metatron; through Cas, me finding my way back to the hunting life.

The worst thing for Bobby to stomach is when Sam and I recount how I went from my original body to a meat-suit with different looks, different voice, and everything. But then our focus shifts to the real issue at hand: Dean and the Mark of Cain.

"And, uh, that's what's been happening...the short version of it, anyway," Sam says. "You still there, Bobby?"

"Yeah, Sam. It's just...Real good to hear your voice. I'm not sure whether it should bring me joy or break my heart that you're with him, Jo."

I sigh. "It's okay for both."

"Okay. If, uh, I'm understanding right, you got to figure a way to get the Mark of Cain off Dean before it turns him back into a demon?"

"Pretty much, yeah," I say. "And personally, one demon Winchester is enough."

"So, just another day at the office for you, huh? Put Dean on the line."

"Dean's not here."

"Why not?"

"We...Dean's, um...He's not in a good place right now, Bobby," Sam says.

"So what's the play?"

"Each soul in Heaven is locked in its own private paradise," Cas explains. "That's where you are now. You need to escape. You need to find the gate to Earth and open it. Then you and I will find Metatron, the Scribe of God."