The Path We Choose- original fic

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Tenoko1

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The kitchen was filled with sights and smells of breakfast, giving Dean a little more energy knowing hot coffee and pancakes were almost his for the consuming. Making her way into the kitchen with a towel draped across her shoulders and wet tendrils of hair hanging limply, Lisa hummed graciously as she took a deep breath and b-lined it for the coffee pot.

Chuckling, Dean said nothing, maneuvering the spatula to flip over golden pancakes with practiced ease while Lisa leaned against the counter, steaming cup of joe held close to her face, just savoring it.

“I hear that works faster when ingested,” he teased, giving her a lazy grin. Cutting her eyes at him, a smile on her face, she took a sip before fixing a cup for him as well. Lisa pressed a kiss to his cheek as she handed it off. “Thanks. Where’s Ben?”

Taking a seat at the bar, she slowly sipped her coffee. “Last I saw, lumbering toward the bathroom like a bear just after hibernation.”

Nodding, He grabbed a plate and tossed two pancakes on it, covered them in syrup, and held them out to his girlfriend. “Well, what’s the agenda for today? Soccer? Yoga class? There’s not a parent-teacher conference is there? Tell me there’s not a parent-teacher conference.”

She laughed easily and he tried hard to make his smile look as effortless. “No. Surprisingly, we all have the day off.”

He raised a brow. “You’re sure? That can’t be right.”

Again, she laughed. “End of the world, right?” She caught her mistake immediately, a look of horror passing over her face as all the muscles in Dean’s body tensed, his jaw clenching. “I-I mean-“

“Never happens.” He nodded knowingly, focusing his attention on keeping his hands busy. “No, I know what you mean.” He forced another smile, turning with a second plate in hand. “Ben! Breakfast!”

In the three months since he’d shown up at her doorstep -though truth be told it felt like a lifetime- Lisa had made every effort to be mindful of her wording. It was obvious when she hit a sensitive area; Dean usually flinched, though dammit he tried not to.

He didn’t know if what he and Sam had done carried any weight with Heaven, since he hadn’t heard or seen hide nor hair out of any of them, but whoever was in charge of declaring people Saints needed to be told to add Lisa’s name to the list.

Anyone who took a relative stranger into their home with their son, put up with all their drinking, night terrors that woke the entire block, suicidal grief, PTSD, and trigger happy reflexes deserved some kind of award, Sainthood, or something- a damn parade in their honor, at least. Dean was freaking broken when Lisa took him in, and since then had slowly coaxed him back into some semblance of a functioning human being. There was no way he could pay back the debt he owed her and her son; when he had been drowning and too exhausted to fight anymore and without the hope that it was even worth fighting anymore, she and her son had managed to help him keep his head above the waves, to find his way through the water until his feet touched solid ground again.

He no longer ached to put a gun to his head like a junkie desperate for a hit. That was progress. Getting beyond the point of being a hollowed out shell was a much more difficult task they were still working on. He recognized his own reflection now, it looked more like him, rather than an empty vessel.

Vessel. The word left a sick feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, making him fight back bile in his throat.

He was alive today because of the sacrifices of other people, not through any merit of his own. So much for being the Righteous Man. Lot of help he was during the big fight. His brother was still in the cage with Michael and Lucifer. Or maybe God took pity –he damn well better have- and Sam was in Heaven with their parents and Jess. Kid deserved it, the big damn hero.

Meanwhile, Dean was trying to learn to function like a normal person. Conning and lying were so much apart of the hunter lifestyle, he thought it would have been easier to slip into the persona until it came more naturally to him. It wasn’t though. It was awkward and jerky, Lisa having to cover for him when he got lost in memories of the past or overreacted to the backfiring of a car or a child’s scream of delight at the park.

He’d gotten what he wanted. He was out of the hunter life and in the apple-pie one, picket fence included. In the three months since it had happened, he hadn’t heard from anyone he use to know. Not a phone call from Bobby, or even a drop in from Castiel. Bobby’s lack of contact wasn’t a surprise, he want Dean out and free as much as the Winchesters had wanted it, and he would only act as a reminder of the way things had been before. The absence of Castiel had been harder, much to his surprise. Lisa was the one who pointed it out. He kept looking for the angel. Especially if they were at the park and he heard the flutter of a bird’s wings, he automatically looked directly behind him. His girlfriend guessed that maybe that was Heaven’s reward to him as well, to leave him alone and let him have a normal life for once without Heaven or Hell’s influence.

So, yeah, he had his apple pie life… and such a feeling of homesickness it damn near crippled him some times. On those days, Lisa helped him through those struggles as well, though God help him, he never dared tell her what he was feeling, not when she’d given him so much, when she’d been so good to him. He wouldn’t throw her sacrifices back in her face like that.

Instead, he did his best to fit into the role he’d been given: Dean Winchester, family man. It didn’t fit right just yet, still felt awkward, full of jerky. It was some foreign thing he had no idea what to do with. He had doubts about whether or not he was cut out for it, but again Lisa was there for him, talking him off the ledge, coaxing him from his own damnation.

When he didn’t think he could do it, that coming back into their lives –regardless if it was because he promised Sammy- was a mistake, that he didn’t need to be there, she shushed and soothed him. The world he’d always known had ended, he’d lost everyone he cared about, his brother had died… he was grieving, of course he wasn’t going to just be able switch gears and live as a civilian. Soldiers went through the same thing and at least they went to support groups and therapy. It wasn’t easy, didn’t feel like him, didn’t feel right… it would get easier, he would learn to live like a normal person, would one day enjoy it. He just needed time to heal.

Time was something he had. More than he knew what to do with, so he kept busy hoping the healing would kick in like sedatives in an I.V.

Till then he played his role hoping each day if would fit him a little better. The act would come a little easier until it was no longer an act.

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, Ben loped into the kitchen, plopping down in the seat next to his mother with a cheerful greeting to both adults before he began devouring his breakfast.

Dean nursed his coffee, leaning against the counter after flicking off the burners on the stove.

“My book club is about to start a new read,” Lisa began with a snap of her fingers. “We should go by the book store. We can all find something. Then afterward, we can go to the park!”

He pointed a warning at her. “I am not reading anything your book club recommends, nor am I coming to a meeting.” He folded his arms again, ignoring her grin. “There’s a lot of things a man will do for the sake of family, but that ain’t one of ‘em.”

Ben grinned at him, looking so much like his mother that it tugged an affectionate smile out of Dean, affection for both of them. He did care about them, even would dare use the term ‘love’, he loved them… even if it wasn’t quite the way he figured he was suppose to. He’d get there. In time, this really would feel like his life and family.

-~-~-~-

At the book store, Ben immediately bolted for the kid’s section on the far side of the store. Dean glanced over his shoulder back at their vehicle, wondering if perhaps he ought to move it more into the shade so as to better keep the picnic they’d packed for the visit to the park after book shopping.

“Hey,” Lisa called softly, capturing his attention. Her hand slid into his. “Come on,” she coaxed, pulling him further into the store.

He let her lead him as she went in search for the new book she would be starting. He didn’t see the appeal of any of the books they’d read so far. She’d told him about each other them, gotten his feedback on the story line and characters as she read, often laughing as he found their whirlwind problems trivial and easily dealt with.

“Not every conflict can be solved by shooting someone, Dean,” she chuckled, squeezing his hand.

He shrugged, gaze sliding over the shelves of books but not really seeing them. “Haven’t run into one yet that couldn’t.”

“I’ll remember that for my next yoga class when we are discussing ways to avoid stress. Shoot the cause.”

“Or use salt rounds.” He shrugged again. “I suggest the salt rounds first. Works better that way.”

“Why kill someone when you can expel the evil in the first place?”

“Exactly.”

Shaking her head with a laugh, she grabbed a book, flipping it over to read the synopsis. “If anyone overheard us, they’d think we were nuts.”

He rolled his eyes. “Can’t have them thinking that. Girl scouts might stop selling us cookies.” He sidled up next to her, arm snaking around her waist as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “You know how much I like those Thin Mints.”

With a laugh, she smacked his chest. “Go. Go find something for yourself. Stop mocking the general populace.”

Smiling despite himself, he did as told, wandering first to the magazines. He never understood the entertainment magazines, and learned rather quickly none of them did enough coverage on Dr. Sexy M.D. which was the one guilty pleasure that remained a constant. He didn’t bother with skin mags anymore either, though Busty Asian Beauties remained tucked away in the trunk of the impala. Sam would have thought he was sick if he knew that- Dean’s beloved porno discarded in the trunk of the impala for months.

Frankly, Sam would laugh his ass off at half the changes Dean had made in the last few months. God, the music Lisa liked to listen to in the car. He repressed an involuntary shudder, knowing full well the music wasn’t that bad- it just wasn’t his.

Sometimes little things like music acted like a trigger, though, certain songs would come on that made Dean miss his little brother so terribly he couldn’t reach out and change the station fast enough, keeping his eyes focused anywhere but at the other people in the car. These moments were never brought up or pointed out, of course, but what was one more indication at the elephant in the room they were all tip-toeing around?

And did he ever miss Sammy. Which was what landed him in the self-help section of the bookstore; he made his way there out of habit again. To counter act his nightmares and night terrors, Lisa had tried to get him to start reading before bed, something that might distract his mind or allow him to unwind and have a peaceful night of sleep. They’d actually gone through several genres trying to find something he could read. Her book club books typically involved a romance, which only made him think of Becky of all people. Westerns were still too much like the hunter lifestyle to offer any comfort at all, and Urban Fantasy was an insult to injury. He’d even tried Fantasy and Sci-fi but they were too thick and too long-winded, they worked better as doorstoppers in his opinion.

Go figure he’d ended up reading cookbooks and self-help books in bed like some kind of housewife. One glare at Lisa had silenced any attempt at teasing she would have even considered making. Cooking was something he’d always had a bit of a knack for, what with practically raising Sam, someone had had to cook, right? Having a manual made it easier, not to mention Dean liked to stay busy with his hands no matter what he was doing: working on cars, construction, or cooking. It didn’t matter, he just liked working with his hands.

The self-help books were an effort to rush the process of making this life that didn’t feel like his eventually feel so, that he wouldn’t feel out of place and homesick for a life that no one in their right mind would miss in the least. He was some kind of crazy for missing a nightmare he’d wanted to get out of for so long, some form of Stockholm Syndrome or something.

Now that he had several books on coping with grief (the entire lot of them a complete joke in Dean’s opinion) Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends & Influence People looked a lot more appealing. It was a civvie’s guide to interacting with other’s so it would probably turn out to be his new bible. Not that the other Bible ever did him much good, but he needed all the help he could get.

With his purchase picked out, Dean meandered aimlessly around the store, knowing from previous experience neither Ben nor Lisa would be anywhere near done. Ben would be camped out on a bean chair somewhere in his section, while Lisa was probably sitting in the café with a frozen coffee. One of these days, he was going to remember to start bringing that music player Lisa made him get (and then had helped him pack full of all his favorite music). Killing time was easier with rock music blasting in your ears.

Out of the corner of his eye, one of display tables caught his attention, making him do a double-take, his step faltering.

‘Scary Just Got Sexy!

Supernatural re-printed to celebrate the release of new publications. Don’t let your collection remain incomplete!’

For a long moment he just stared, not processing what he was seeing. Then the newly designed covers, the titles, they all slowly began to sink in, a dark corner of his mind reminding him that Chuck had continued writing even after the series was originally cancelled. Dean wouldn’t lie, he’d actually kept up with the fandom, making certain none of the fans actually ever realized that the books were based on fact. They didn’t, of course, and WOW did they squabble over really stupid shit, but how had he not known about this at least? He wasn’t very active in the fandom, more lurking than anything, but surely they would have freaked out over this, after all, Becky’s fanclub was the one he kept up with since she stayed in touch with Chuck more than Dean or Sam had.

There were a lot more books now than there had been when Sam and Dean first stumbled upon the ‘Winchester Gospels’ and the Prophet of the Lord Chuck. The few spine worn books they’d been able to buy –which was everything the store owner had been able to put his hands on- were only a very few of the ones that were available now, their numerical order in roman numerals on the spines.

He was grabbing the books and piling them in his arms before he realized it, stopping only long enough to run to the front of the store and grab a basket. He passed Lisa in the café as he did, she smiled and gave him a quizzical look, but he couldn’t meet her gaze, his heart pounding too loudly in his ears, hands shaking. Back at the stand, he began carefully putting each of the books into the basket, occasionally stopping to read the synopsis on the back, causing a bitter laugh to escape him. God, it had to make him some kind of masochist, but dammit, this was his life, sadly the only connection he had left to it, and he was damn well going to own every volume.

Granted, he knew he wouldn’t be able to read them in bed like he’d done with books so far, but that would be okay. Another thing Sam would laugh at him for, because cue the chick-flick moment, reading these? There were going to be tears. And copious amounts of alcohol.

He carried the basket to the front, passing Lisa and Ben but determinedly keeping his gaze locked forward as though he hadn’t seen the looks of shock, didn’t know there would be questions he wasn’t going to want to answer, that he was setting himself up for a barrage of questions he wasn’t going to want to answer. One of the first things they’d have to confront would be that neither Lisa or Ben would ever so much as touch the books, much less read them.

The clerk blinked in surprise when Dean thrust the basket across the counter, but said nothing. They’d probably seen weirder purchases. Waiting for him by the door with an arched brow and a raised smile, Lisa said nothing when his check out had been finished, even offered to carry one of the bags. He gave a quick shake of his head, grip tightening on the bags. He’d carried the weight of these stories his whole life, he could carry them out of the store on his own as well.

He’d blown a whole paycheck on getting the entire series to-date, but it was his money and it was just collecting. Lisa made sure that he kept his own money, allowing him to contribute a certain amount financially every month, but the rest of his money was just that and frankly he had no idea what to do with it until now. Without it constantly going to putting gas in the Impala, medical supplies, and ammunition, Dean found he had a lot of money going unspent.

“Geez, Dean, what all did you get?” asked Ben, curiously trying to peering into the bags. “Did you leave them anything to sell?”

Turning to look down at the kid, Dean caught his attention with a sharp “Hey.” Ben looked up with inquiring eyes. “I’m just gonna tell you this once, okay? And I want you to do it for me, alright?” He waited until he received an earnest nod. “These books? Completely off limits like touching them will end your life, understand? I mean it, Ben. Don’t even look at them.”

“Or you’ve been to your last soccer game,” added Lisa, backing him up. Ben’s face morphed to one of complete indignation. She continued to watch him sternly. “I mean it, Ben. They’re off limits.”

His arm flailed vaguely in the direction of the bookstore. “But they sell them in stores!”

“You forget you ever saw them!” ordered the taller male, with a glare. “If you ever see them again, you pretend you didn’t, both of you, understand?”

Head angled in confusion, in a way so reminiscent of Castiel Dean had to swallow the sudden lump in his throat, Lisa gave a slow nod. Apparently, she though even if Ben were forbidden from the books, it was something Dean would share with her.

Maybe one day, but not any time in the near future.

Time at the park wasn’t nearly as relaxing as normal. Dean couldn’t concentrate on playing catch with Ben or walking the track with Lisa. He could practically feel the books calling to him like some kind of siren. He was distracted, constantly glancing back toward the car, plagued with ridiculous worries like what if someone broke into the car and stole the books? What if he missed a volume and needed to go back to the store? Where should he start reading? At the beginning, so he could learn things that he and Sam never found out about, like with Bela giving the Colt to Crowley? Could he read the events that had taken place with the angels and Armageddon? Living through it once had almost destroyed him, he didn’t know if he could read it on paper.

Sensing his mounting agitation, Lisa announced she was ready to get home for a bubble bath to read her new book. Dean wanted to kiss her, while at the same time feeling traitorous for being anything but happy with the two of them, doing what normal families did.

-~-~-~-~-~-

Figuring it was a good place to start, Dean began reading the books that chronologed his resurrection from Hell, gaining new appreciation for the fact that it actually took Castiel and the other angels years to get to him. He didn’t know why he never thought of it differently, that they just plopped down, Cas grabbed him, and then hauled him out. They had waged war on the forces of Hell to get to him, the stoic angel forever at the forefront of the battle, and then sheltering Dean from harm in the journey back out of Hell.

Cas may not have been human, but he was the best damn friend Dean ever actually had, the first friend, he realized while reading, he had that was neither a hunter or family. In fact, it was rather embarrassing to read about their friendship, getting real insight into Cas’s mind for the first time. It somehow felt like he was cheating, but it meant so much to actually see how much Castiel cared for both of the Winchesters, and even Bobby, when the angel would have never actually said something like that aloud. Having been raised as a warrior and lived only a soldier’s existence, not only did Castiel not think to voice things he felt, until he met Dean he’d never had to deal with emotions and thoughts of his own. He didn’t know how to voice them.

Making him very much like a Winchester.

Then Dean got to the books that took place after Sam jumped into the pit and saved the world.

‘Horrific’ would have been as close a word as Dean could come up with for what the books told of his future. After staying up all night to read the first book, Dean called in to work and took the rest of the week off.

His actions scared Lisa and she worried if he was sick, hovering and trying to take care of him. He shooed her off with assurances he was fine and that yes, it was a good idea that he read the books. He didn't know any real way to explain he was reading his –their- future, and God, why couldn’t any of them get a break? Why was everything going so wrong?

Sam was alive somewhere, hunting with their grandfather –also alive, oddly enough- but Dean would leave Lisa and Ben to return back to the hunter’s life. He didn’t know what upset him more, the fact that he would or the fact that he felt relief at that knowledge, as if that it was foretold somehow made the action any less of a betrayal to Lisa, to everything she had done for him.

He read the rest of the books: Sam without a soul, the civil war in Heaven, the wall that apparently grew between him and Castiel, Meg and Cas’s makeout scene –Was that REALLY Cas’s first kiss?! Oh hell no was he going to allow that- Death getting Sam his soul back, Balthazar making his appearances in what apparently would be a hate-at-first-sight relationship with Dean, the two Winchester’s winding up in a parallel universe where their lives had been upgraded from books to an entire show, Balthazar changing history and Castiel undoing it so that Dean and Sam would be safe from the wrath of Fate, Crowley and Cas teaming up to open the door to purgatory, yet all the while Castiel simply trying to keep the Winchester’s out of the fight, protect them his own way while misunderstandings abound, Castiel’s ascension and then death…

It felt like a huge weight crushing Dean’s chest, and it took several minutes of forcefully pacing his breathing before he was able to fight off hyperventilating. There was no way things could get that bad, no way God would allow that after everything all of them had given, everything they had all done! No fucking way! He didn’t even get to read the books that came after Castiel died, what was the point when things clearly weren’t getting any better?

Why hadn’t Cas come to him sooner? If things were that bad? Hell, if Cas was going to war, all he had to do was point out the dotted line and Sam and Dean were signed up as well. You didn’t let your friends fight against the forces of Heaven and Hell alone! Hadn’t he learned that? Did Castiel think Dean wouldn’t take up another battle if he needed him? That maybe it would be asking too much? Did he think Dean couldn’t help?

And, oh GOD! Sam!

He waited until Ben was at school and Lisa was at work for the day before he prayed. He locked the doors, shut the blinds and the curtains, and glanced once over his shoulder to make sure he was alone. Prayer was never something he got use to, even more so aloud. Prayers a man sent up in his head were one thing, but aloud, standing in the living room of your house? That was another.

“Uh, dear Castiel. If you get a minute, I would like for you to come down here if, uh, if you wouldn't mind.” He frowned, remembering the huge wall between the two of them in the books. “Please.”

The tell-tale rustle of feathers was enough to make Dean’s eyes prick behind his eye lids, his throat clenching together as so many different things rushed through him, mostly relief. Perhaps the events in the books could be averted with this one step here. They’d tried proving the books wrong before, but Dean would be damned if someone out there ever thought he’d stop trying to fight fate.

“Hello, Dean.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

That voice sounded exactly the same. Dean was revisited by it time after time in dreams and nightmares. Perhaps it was a bit softer this time, the underlying tone clearly stating ‘I shouldn’t be here’, but at the same time it brought such aching reassurance.

Turning, Dean faltered long enough to see that it was in fact Castiel. The angel looked resigned and sheepish, making Dean believe he really wasn’t suppose to have come, but did so anyway. Because the hunter needed him.

In two strides, Dean purposefully crossed the room- brief uncertainty flickered over the other man’s face- and threw his arms around Castiel’s neck, hugging him tightly.

"You have no idea how good it is to see you, man," admitted Dean, hearing the choked back sob in his own voice.

Tentative arms hugged him back. "As it is to see you." At not being pushed away, he grew more assured and squeezed Dean a little tighter. "I did not anticipate a call from you."

The looming crisis coming back to him, Dean half shoved his friend away in panic, hands locked firmly on the other man’s shoulders.

"Cas! The books! I read them! God, man, why didn’t you come to me? What about the war? And Raphael? How bad has it gotten in Heaven? Dude, you say the word and I am there for you, no matter what, you don’t have to join forces with Crowley!" Blue eyes blinked rapidly, brows furrowed in confusion as the words tumbled out of Dean’s mouth like a dam had been broken. "God, and Sam! Castiel, you gotta help me with Sam! He’s walking and talking with no soul. We’ve gotta find Death and get him to retrieve Sam’s soul-"

"Dean stop," ordered the angel, catching Dean off guard. Those blue eyes searched the hunter’s face before locking gazes once more. "Slow down and start again. What war?"

Flabbergasted, Dean stepped away, running his hands over his hair. "Wha-What war? The civil war in Heaven, man! With you one side and Raphael on the other! The big cock fight that ends in either Armageddon attempt number two or Free Will For Dummies: Angel Edition. The War! The war you didn’t come to me for help with! The war where you make like a true Winchester and screw up big time!"

The other man was incessantly shaking his head in denial, still wearing the same confused expression as though Dean made reference to some iconic movie Castiel had never seen.

Dean mimicked him. "Why are you shaking your head? ‘No’ what?"

The ebony haired man eyed Dean as though he weren’t sure what to make of him, gaze narrowed as if to ascertain if he’d missed some crucial element of a joke.

"Dean…" Those blue eyes played over his face again. Dean braced himself for the bad news. "There is no war in Heaven."

A pregnant pause.

"Say again?"

The angel shook his head. "There is no civil war in Heaven. Raphael is not attempting to gain control of the Hosts of Heaven." All the air rushed from Dean’s body and he staggered backward, trying in vain to suck in another good breath, but unable. Cas helped lower him to the stairs, firm hands gripping his arms. "Quite the opposite has taken place. God came back."

"He did what?" Why did his voice sound so high? Like he was panicking?

"My father returned. Temporarily, but nonetheless. Many who acted out and sought to end humanity were… reprimanded for their behavior. We were all reminded of how we were raised, the values instilled in us, the characteristics our father values in all his children."

"So God came home, found the car in the living room, and Barbies on the grill, cleaned house, and knocked some heads together? And then what?"

The angel tilted his head in confusion, making Dean want to hug him again. "And then he left again to continue on his holy mission." He was kneeling in front of Dean, looking more concerned than Dean liked. This had gotten all turned around. Dean had called because he was worried and wanted to help, now he just looked like a madman. "I do not understand where this is coming from. What made you think there was a war in Heaven?"

A disbelieving laugh escaped him, Dean burying his face in his hands. He bit back the hysterical laughter that bubbled inside of him half-derived in relief that for once the Prophet of the Lord was proven wrong without so much as a punch thrown. Why couldn’t it have been this easy when they’d been trying to get away from Lilith?

A chuckle escaped him and he shook his head. "Man, I have been freaking out for a week since I first found out. I tell you, they don’t make prophets like they use to anymore. Ya’ll better see to your boy because I think he reached his sell-by date and his warranty expired."

"Dean, you are scaring me," stated Castiel softly, jerking those green eyes up to meet with blue. "Please explain so I can understand. Something’s the matter with Chuck?"

Smiling softly, Dean scooted over, patting the spot beside him so the angel could sit down as well. "I’m sorry man. You must think I’ve lost it; I swear I haven’t."

"I would never think that of you, Dean. I saw your face when you called me: you were afraid. Dean Winchester is never afraid without a very good reason."

That earned him an affectionate pat on the knee as Dean began to explain. "Last week, we went to the store and I see Chuck’s books – the Winchester Gospels, as you call them- on sale. Chuck told us he’d gotten a contract to start publishing again, but me and Sam thought we dissuaded him from it. We don’t want the world to know the gritty details of our lives, y’know?" The angel nodded, listening intently with that ever-serious expression on his face. "Well, they’re published, more books than there were before, books that continue on well after Sam saved the world and I attempted playing house with Lisa and Ben- which between you and me, I got no business doing, promise to Sammy or no, all I’m doing is lying to people who’ve done nothing but sacrifice for me."

"You were getting to a point," reminded the angel.

"Don’t rush me, I’m still coming down off adrenaline and panic. So I start reading to books. You raised me from Perdition. Sam breaks the Final Seal. You molotoved Michael-"

"And died for it."

"Words can not express my gratitude, either, but I’ll get to that," Dean assured him, waving a hand. "Then I get to the books that foretell what hasn’t happened yet. God’s still missing, big civil war in Heaven, you keep me out of the loop and join forces with Crowley, of all people, and ultimately betray us and declare yourself the new God, in which case, you go Dark Side, realizing the error of your ways too late, you try to fix it, and end up dead."

Castiel opened his mouth to interject and Dean held up a finger. "Not done. It gets better. You also have your first make-out session with a demon named Meg. Have you actually met Meg? I may be confusing the past and the books. Frankly, I like the brunette version better than the blonde, but that’s me. And if you’ve never been kissed, I’m not letting a demon be your first experience-"

"Please don’t take me to another den of iniquity."

The sincerity of the request made Dean laugh, feeling less shaking as the minutes slipped by. "I won’t, buddy. I learned my lesson. We’ll find you someone the old fashioned way. Back to my point. So according to Chuck, you and I are no longer friends, in fact, we sort of become enemies and even before we’re on opposing sides there’s this whole, like, chasm between us. Things just aren’t right, which is another thing you’ll have to remind me to get back to later. Then we get to Sam who first, has no soul, then has a soul, but risks going completely insane if the wall protecting him from his memories in hell gets knocked down, then you knock down that wall, oh yes- You." At a loss, Dean shook his head. "There’s more that comes after that, but I stopped reading when you died, I couldn’t handle anymore and things weren’t getting better."

A rare hint of a smile was on Castiel’s lips, understanding reflecting in his eyes. "So you called me hoping to derail destiny once more."

A dark cloud settling over his mood, Dean glared at the rug in the foyer, as if it were at fault for all the turmoil he’d endured this last week, the lack of sleep, the ridiculous stress levels, the constant fear that gripped his heart in a vice.

"Cas, I already lost my brother. In fact, I’ve lost him more than once. Bobby is like a father to me, in a way more than my own father was." He turned to look at the man beside him. "You are the only person I know who has stuck by me that isn’t family. You are the only friend I have that owes me no loyalty due to blood or a hunter’s code of ethics. In fact, you’ve seen every tarnish on my soul and you’re there for me anyway." The knot from earlier made it’s way back into his throat again, the pin prick behind his eyes forcing him to glare at the rug once more. "You’re the first friend I ever had and the best one anyone could ask for. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, too."

"Dean…"

Sensing how close they were getting to any more of a soul-bearing moment, Dean quickly rose and spun around the face the angel who continued to watch him, befuddled.

"So, like I said: your boy Chuck is way off the mark with his prophecies lately, what’s up with that?" A thought flickered through his mind and it was like cold water thrown on his heart. "Oh shit, Cas. If Chuck’s wrong about the war in Heaven, what about Sam? I thought with your help we could convince Death to retrieve his soul, or maybe if the two of you teamed up, or what with heaven not being at war, you could patch his soul up good as new and he’d be okay. If Chuck’s wrong about one… Cas, is my baby brother still in the cage? With the two angels that blame him for their incarceration?"

His every thought begged Castiel to tell him he was wrong, that Sam was fine, better than fine. Tell me God had mercy and his soul is in Heaven where it belongs. Tell me his soul was destroyed in the battle. Tell me anything other than he’s trapped in Hell with the two people that hate him most.

Forearms resting on his knees, Castiel had his fingers woven together, contemplating the wood of the steps beneath his feet.

"I honestly can’t tell you anything, Dean," he admitted finally, raising his head. Without it being said, Dean knew it hurt Cas to have to tell him that, that the angel dearly wished he could say anything other than that. He rose to his feet. "But you are right to be concerned and I am glad that you called for me. I will look into the discrepancies in the prophecies and report back to you with my findings."

Dean was nodding when the words fully sunk in and he looked up sharply. "Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa. No! I know that tone. That’s code for ‘wait in the car’." He closed the space between them, for once glaring up at the angel that stood a few steps higher than he. "This is mine and Sammy’s life, too, I’m not just gonna sit in the backseat and let you work the job! If Chuck’s gone AWOL, he damn well owes me an explanation as much as you. As much as I don’t like him writing what really happens in our lives, I don’t want him making our lives Hell just because it makes for a good story either, not mention half of what he put us through makes us look like morons! He’s got us fighting Tinker Bell in those books, man!"

There was a slight narrowing of Castiel’s eyes, perhaps gauging what he should do or figure out what certain phrases meant. Then he moved past Dean.

"There’s no reason that the Prophet’s words would suddenly be false-"

"Well they aren’t exactly false yet since it hasn’t happened yet," argued Dean. "I’m trying to derail the future, remember? I’m off to a good start, I suppose, you and I aren’t scheduled for a reunion for another nine months, and even then it’s like I’m a bother- you blow Sammy off entirely."

Castiel turned around so sharply Dean almost ran into him, then backtracked at the severe expression on his friend’s face.

"You," began the angel, annunciating clearly in that gravely voice, "will never be a bother to me. Ever. Nor would your brother." He shook his head. "When my family cast me out, it was yours that took me in. Anytime any of you need or even just want me around, all you have to do is call for me."

Gratitude and anguish warred in response, Dean reaching out to clap the other man on the shoulder. "Well, it’s really just me now, but thank you. It’s good to know after everything I’ve been fearing this past week."

The other man dropped his gaze. "I’m sorry. I… misspoke, it was not my intent to remind you of your losses."

The brunette shook his head. "Nah. You wouldn’t be an honorary Winchester if you never put your foot in your mouth." He tried not to notice the way Castiel looked up in surprise, those impossibly blue eyes wide. "So, what do we do about Chuck?"

A blink and his expression shifted to seriousness again, making Dean wonder if such a human reaction had been just a trick of the light or imagination. "It would make the most sense to simply go ask him ourselves. If you are still intent on going with me, that is."

Dean waved him off, ignoring that last part. "Yeah, okay, so say we go and see him, great. That doesn’t explain why his prophecies are suddenly so wrong."

"We would need to speak to Chuck; any number of things could be interfering with the visions. He may be in need of healing."

"Thought he had an Archangel watching over him."

"He does, but the angel can only interfere if the Prophet’s life is in danger. Until that time, she’s attending to her many other duties."

Frowning, Dean did a double take, not sure he’d heard correctly. "Wha- she? What ‘she’? I thought Raphael –the bastard- was the little angel on his shoulder."

Blue eyes glanced away uncomfortably. "Raphael was… reassigned."

"He got demoted." He couldn’t help the amusement in his voice, he really did try to conceal it, but dammit, he had a right to be amused. Damn angel was destined to be a pain in Dean’s ass. Sue him if he found the angel’s humiliation a reason for a smile.

Begrudgingly, Castiel nodded. "Yes."

"How far?" Blue eyes shot him a warning look. He only grinned wider. "Oh come on. I reserve full rights to see my enemies and all dick angels get what’s coming to them. How far did he get demoted? Is he the janitor now? Please tell me he’s the janitor. Polishing those pearly gates or the yellow brick road or whatever?"

It was one of the traits that endeared Castiel to him so much was his loyalty. Even after everything his family had put him through, Castiel was clearly not comfortable gossiping about his brother’s recent humiliation.

"He was reverted back to a guardian and assigned a human charge to look after."

That wasn’t the just desserts Dean had been hoping for. "That sounds an awful lot like what he was doing before, Cas."

"Because you don’t understand our ranks. He has no powers and is tied to the human he’s to protect, forever walking in their shadow. If they take a step, so must he, no freer than his charge’s shadow. He walks the earth he hates, protecting creatures he hates even more. In a way, it’s like your country’s leader being forced to mop the floors of a brothel for a living. He is disgraced and there is no one that doesn’t know about it."

A wide grin plastered on his face, Dean wagged a finger at Castiel. "See? Now that’s something I can get behind."

Cas cocked his head to the side, regarding him with mild exasperation. "If you bothered to read the Bible, Dean, you would remember that God’s anger knows no equal, just as his mercy does."

"So he humiliates them rather than smiting."

"Our father does love us, despite what you may think, Dean."

"I think he runs a high risk of a repeat offender by keeping Raphael alive."

Those blue eyes searched the hunter’s face, brows knitting together. "And yet, the angel that betrayed God the most, the son that was God’s favorite, still breathes as well. Lucifer is alive when our Father had every reason to destroy him. Better yet, our Father knew beforehand that if Lucifer were created he would eventually rebel and have to be cast out of Heaven, yet created him anyway."

He actually forgot fairly often that Lucifer was an angel and not of demonic origin. The angels may have been dicks, but Lucifer had been something else entirely. The fact that he’d been reasonable and polite while being a complete monster only made Dean hate him more. Monsters should be always be obvious.

"Makes him sound like a glutton for punishment you ask me. A masochist."

"Knowing the pain of losing Sam… if you could avoid it by changing things so that he’d never been born, would you do it? Trade all those years and good times to avoid that moment where it all came to a horrific end?" They stared at each other for a long moment, memories flashing through Dean’s mind, images of the good and bad through the years, of that final moment where Sam was himself… The hunter broke eye contact, shaking his head. "Neither could my father. He loves Lucifer still, but his behavior is unacceptable and unwelcome in our father’s home. You can’t tell me a human father has never had a rebellious child."

Sighing, Dean scratched at his jaw with the back of his thumb. "Okay, so Chuck has a new body guard. Don’t they have to report back on the Prophet’s current condition or something? Send out a memo than ya’lls boy is missing the mark?"

Castiel shook his head. "No because they aren’t involved on a regular basis. They are only alerted if there is a threat to the prophet’s life, a serious threat the regular Guardian Corp is not equipped to handle, in which case the Archangel dispatches the problem without hesitation and goes back to what they were doing."

"Ya’ll gotta start keeping better files on your employees, man."

"I’ll be sure to file a complaint under your name." That earned a chuckle from Dean. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Wha- leave? Now?" Castiel arched a brow as Dean looked around frantically, even checking his watch. Lisa and Ben still wouldn’t be home for several hours, but if this turned out to be more than a quick drop in with Chuck, Lisa would worry, not to mention the fact that his truck was still parked out front. "Let me just… let me leave Lisa a note. Hold on."

He darted down the hall and into the kitchen, hearing the angel’s footsteps trailing after him. "A note?"

"Yeah. A note. Letting the people that worry about you know where you are is a courtesy thing. Avoid unnecessary worrying and lectures about making people worry." He scribbled out a message letting her know he was going check on a friend and that he had his cell phone on him before turning back around to face the angel.

"I… see." Contemplative shifted to inquiring again, gaze flicking once to the note on the bar than back to Dean as he held up two fingers. "Are you ready now?"

~-~-~-~-~-~

"I don’t understand," admitted Castiel finally, turning full circle in Chuck’s small living room.

The hunter shared the sentiment. Neither understood because what they were seeing didn’t make sense. All signs indicated no one had been in Chuck’s house for months. All the food in the refrigerator was expired and ruined. There was a mug of something that had long since turned solid next the computer. Dirty dishes were in the sink and covered in mold, and the rest of the house was suffering from it’s usual clutter and disarray, all of it covered in a thick layer of dust.

"He’s not here, man. No body to be found, books still being published, and a stack of junk mail you could wallpaper the whole house in." He turned to face the angel, shaking his head. "Wherever our boy is, it ain’t here. From the looks of it, it looks like he dropped everything and just left. Ran."

Castiel was shaking his had in confusion, taking a step closer to Dean. "Ran from what though? He knows his life is protected from outside forces so what could he have to fear?"

Dean held up his hands. "You are asking the wrong guy, Cas. I didn’t keep close tabs on him, he kept tabs on me, remember? I thought your people were looking after him, so I wasn’t worried." Sighing heavily, he dropped his hands to his hips, looking around again. "Thing that gets me: he had my number. If something were the matter, he would have called. When he had a vision that scared him so bad he was terrified to go back to sleep, he use to call me. When he stopped, I thought it was because the future was no longer plaguing him. Apocalypse averted, nothing else to report, y’know?"

His angelic counterpart shook his head. "His assignment was to record the lives of the Winchester brothers. Had the world ended, so would his task, but it did not, therefore he should have continued receiving visions of the future."

"Except his visions are way off base, so now we add ‘missing’ to our list of problems with Chuck."

Cerulean eyes sought jade. "You knew him better than I: where do we go now? Does he have friends or family we can question?"

"If he did, somebody else would have already noticed he was missing, don’t you think?"

"Your point is valid. Well then, what?"

Dean gave a jerky shrug. "We pay a visit to his publishing company. Get a hold of his editor. They’re the only ones in contact with him at the moment, right? They at least have to have a return address, somewhere where they send him his checks."

Castiel teleported them just outside the office, and even from the outside, they could hear the woman angrily making a scene.

Castiel shot Dean a worried glance. "Perhaps now is not the best time. There is great hostility in there."

Hand on the door, Dean rolled his eyes. "Just use your Vulcan Nerve Pinch on her and be done with it. C’mon."

Castiel caught the door before it closed, following after. "Use my what?" He rammed into the hunter’s back as the taller man came to a sudden halt. "Dean, why are you stopping? What is it?"

"I don’t care what the law says about confidential information," the blonde at the front desk raged. "He doesn’t have a next of kin! I am the closest thing he has so you better damn well tell me where he is or so help me God I will unleash the wrath of the entire internet on you and this company."

"Becky?!"

Her head snapped sharply at the sound of his voice, for a split second all that fury directed at the two men standing by the door. They both took an involuntary step backward, Dean swallowing thickly. Recognition dawned and her entire demeanor shifted, lighting up so rapidly as a loud gasp of surprise escaped her.

"Dean!" she exclaimed, marching toward him.

He and Castiel both back pedaled until there was no where else to go, the hunter’s hands raised in surrender as Castiel frantically inquired in a loud whisper if they were in a fight and what manner of creature the furious blonde was.

The moment she reached Dean, her expression gave way to tears and she threw herself at his chest, sobbing and mumbling incoherently.

"What did you do?"

"What do you mean what did I do? I didn’t do anything!"

"Why is she crying?"

"You think I know how her mind works?" demanded Dean in a panic.

"Is this a fight? Are we in a fight?"

"I think this is her saying ‘hello’."

The angel frowned at the woman gripping Dean’s shirt and sobbing. "I don’t like it."

"Nobody likes- look, would you just help get her off of me?"

Despite obvious reserves about coming in contact with the female, but clearly not happy with the current turn of events, Castiel moved around to gently take Becky by the shoulders in an attempt to pry her away from the hunter. He quickly let go and backed away when she turned her head to snarl at him, all but bearing her teeth at the angel.

"Oh!" she said in surprise, releasing Dean and turning on Castiel who gave Dean a panicked look. "You’re Castiel!"

The angel’s attention snapped back to her face. "How do you know that? Who are you?"

Hand snapping out, Dean grabbed Becky by the arm before she could assault the unassuming angel. "She’s Chuck’s biggest fan, Cas."

She was shaking her head, face enraptured. "He didn’t do your voice justice, because it’s just.. oh my. Can I touch him?"

"No." She turned to glare at him in anger, only when her eyes met his her expression melted, bottom lip quivering and eyes filling with tears. "No! No more crying. I want coherent sentences from you, you already christened my shirt and I’m gonna have to get a new one." He turned her fully to face him. "Start talking."

It took half a box of Kleenex and a cup of tea begrudgingly offered by the still miffed receptionist before Becky was able to start making sense. Apparently, she was there for the same reason they were: looking for Chuck. In fact, she’d become a familiar and dreaded face to the receptionist because she was in there so often demanding to know where the author was.

"So, all you’ve got is bumpkins?" demanded Dean. "After all this time?"

She shot him a cross look, and Dean wondered not for the first time why she favored Sam so much more since she was such a devout fan.

"Yes, Dean, I got nothing. Apparently being his ex-girlfriend," She raised her voice and shot a pointed look at the receptionist who glared and pointedly ignored her. "Does not entitled me to basic information like ‘is he safe’, ‘when did you last hear from him’, ‘who in God’s name is writing these books now’?" She was on her feet, all but shouting at the receptionist again.

The middle aged woman behind the desk looked ready to take this old argument out to the parking lot and quite frankly, Dean’s money was on the psychotic fangirl that was out of touch with reality.

"Ma’am, am I going to have to call security again?"

Confused, Dean was tugging on the blonde’s hand, trying to refocus her attention. "Hold on, what do you mean ‘who is writing the books’, who else would be writing them?"

Such a look of fury came over her face, Dean swallowed and released her, trying to look as apologetic for his wording as possible. Girl had proven herself crazy on more than one occasion; he wasn’t going to stir up the hornet’s nest.

"Have you read the new books? You know: the ones after Sam saved the world- no thanks to you, I might add?" Castiel clearly bristled at that, opening his mouth, but Dean held up a hand, shaking his head. "They’re terrible! The stupid stuff the two of you pull? The obvious plot holes? The bad writing? It’s defamation of character is what it is. There’s no way Chuck wrote these, even at your worst, he still tried to protect your images in the eyes of the fans, and he certainly never would have made you look silly! It’s all bad filler written by someone who doesn’t care! Not to mention: look how fast they’re being produced! They’re practically mass produced like mystery meat!" She was on her feet shouting again. "It’s an outrage!"

"Ma’am, one more outburst and you can forget security; I’m calling the cops."

A unmarked side door opened and a woman with cropped hair came out looking peevish. "Mary, do we have a situation out here?"

Dean blinked in surprise. "Sera?" She turned at the sound of her name and he rose. "Sera Seige?"

She frowned for a moment then blinked in recognition. "Oh! You! I remember you." She glanced at Castiel, then Becky with a frown, before giving Dean a puzzled expression. "I certainly didn’t expect to see you again. Where’s, uh, your brother, right?"

A rather loud sob escaped Becky and Castiel grabbed her, hiding her face in his lapel in attempt to somehow silence her while making it look like an attempt at comforting.

"She… uh, had a recent loss in the family," he fumbled, earning another wail and something that sounded a lot like Sam’s name. "She’s… bereaved."

"I’ll say." The publisher shifted her gaze to Dean. "How may I help you?"

"I’m sorry I didn’t make an appointment, I actually came by to see you real quick while I was passing through town. Saw Supernatural’s back in print and going strong, wanted to congratulate you- one fan to another! It’s a victory for us, eh?"

She beamed happily at him. "Yes it is! Please, come inside," she insisted, ushering him into her office. Dean pointedly refused to look back at the two people in the lobby, ignoring the indignant sounds coming from the fangirl or the lost look he knew was probably on Castiel’s face.

In her office, Sera motioned for him to sit down and offered him a cup of coffee. Despite it being well into the afternoon, he gratefully accepted it, hoping the warmth would settle the whirlwind in his head at the moment.

"Actually, Sera, I did want to ask you a couple of things." He shifted in his seat, trying his best to mimick one of Sammy’s concerned expressions that always seemed to get him what he wanted. "See, when I was reading the books… I couldn’t help but notice a… change in them, in the, uh, tone and feel, y’know? So I called Chuck up to see if something was going on that was reflecting in his work, see if he needed a night out with the boys, I hadn’t seen him in a month or two, thought it would be good." Puzzled, he shook his head. "Thing is though, I can’t get a hold of him. I even went by the house to check and it looks like he’s on extended vacation, which kind of pisses me off he didn’t even shoot me a text here me and his other friends are worrying about him. It’s just the courteous thing to do, you know, leave a note so people don’t worry? But I mean, the books are still being published, so-"

He fell silent when she began looking uncomfortable, a flush making it’s way to her cheeks, and eyes glistening over. As she busied herself with files on her desk, he offered her the box of tissue, which she gratefully accepted, dabbing under her eyes.

"What’s wrong? What happened?"

She shook her head. "We don’t know! He just- just vanished! We’ve tried to track him down, but his credit cards show no activitiy, no one has been to his house, he doesn’t have any family, so there’s no one to contact. We found his cell phone at his house, it’s his life blood in many ways, all his important numbers are in it for the books and scheduling and everything, you know?"

He knew the phone. He’d personally put in his, Sam’s, and Bobby’s numbers into it in case the prophet ever needed anything. Hell, he’d even plugged in Castiel’s cell phone number. A sob escaped her. "It was wiped clean! Not a single number on it. We couldn’t retrieve anything off of it, you know, normally you can still get to memory that’s been erased on electronic devices, but…" She shook her head. "We’re still under contract, the books had to continue being written in order for them to be published at all, so we had to hire ghostwriters to keep putting out stories. I know they aren’t up to par with Chuck’s writing, but it was only to buy us time-"

"Okay, okay, I get it, calm down, it’s alright." He rose, taking away her coffee, setting about to make her tea instead. "You did good given the circumstances. You did alright, and we’ll keep looking for Chuck and let you know if you find anything. How many of the books were ghost written?"

"Most everything after Swan Song."

Nodding, he poured a little sugar into the steaming Styrofoam cup in his hand, a touch of cream, and handed it to her, taking his previous seat again, this time all seriousness.

"Okay, well, then we have to talk business now." She blinked in surprise. "This new books are killing us with fans, I mean, we are losing the fanbase because Sam and Dean are losing face in their eyes."

She sniffed, nodding. "I know, but what can we do?"

"Hire a decent writer. Someone who is actually a fan of the series, and give them access to all of Chuck’s notes, paperwork, his computer, whatever. Make sure they write stories that do the series a credit and would make Chuck proud when he comes back. Firstly, you gotta throw the books after Swan Song into Out Of Print status and get them off the shelves."

"But the writers!"

"Are contract labor who were probably paid a flat fee per book and aren’t receiving credit for them anyway. This is non-issue here, we risk becoming a laughing stock, Sera. The boys are going to end up a joke! Can you really imagine a Soulless Sam or a world were Castiel would ever betray Dean? He’s naïve, sure, but he’s got more sense than that and a helluva lot more loyalty."

"You’re right."

"Of course I am!"

She gave him a pointed look. "That all sounds well and good, but where am I suppose to find a decent writer who fits your criteria and is willing to go unsung as the author of the books? They’ll never receive credit, it’ll be in their contract."

He pointed to her with a grin, standing. "I’ve got you covered, and just hear me out before you shoot me down." Opening the door to the office, he waved both Castiel and Becky forward. Becky was still sitting in Castiel’s lap, causing the angel to look all manner of uncomfortable, the same panicked expression on his face from when Dean took him to a brothel. As the blonde passed him, he grabbed her by the arm, hissing "Keep your mouth shut and follow my lead."

She nodded, the picture of demure professionalism as she took his previous seat. Sera looked none too happy to suddenly have the blonde abomination in her office. Castiel only gave Dean a questioning glance before taking up residence in the corner and allowing Dean the only other chair available.

"Okay," began Dean with the most charming smile he could muster. "Now, I know the two of you got off on the wrong foot here, but what Becky was saying was true. She is, in fact, a very close friend of Chuck’s, in fact, they were dating before he disappeared, so she has every right to be hysterical." Becky gave a single nod, while Sera eyed him like she was no longer sure she could trust him. "Not to mention we," he motioned to all the people in the room, "are probably the biggest fans there are of Supernatural. Right, Cas?" he questioned, glancing back at the angel.

Castiel blinked in surprise, suddenly being brought into the conversation. He gave Dean a puzzled look, then turned to Sera who watched him expectantly.

"Yes, uh…" Another uncertain glance at Dean. "I am a most devote… fan. Dean Winchester is my hero."

Becky choked back a laugh, trying to make it come across as a series of suppressed sneezes. She had to good sense to look sheepish. "Allergies." She sniffed for good measure.

"Cas?" echoed Sera, attention glued to the man standing awkwardly in the small office. "As in, Castiel?"

Fuck. Laughing, Dean opened his mouth to explain, and floundered, his mouth working like a fish.

Rolling her eyes, Becky ran a hand through her hair. "Yes, like Castiel from the books. Didn’t you recognize him the moment you saw him? I mean," She motioned to both men, "Chuck based his characters off of these men, and Swan Song was to pay homage to Sam who finally lost his battle with a cancer in his body."

Her expression wilted, eyes seeking Dean’s. "Oh, I’m sorry to hear that." She frowned. "When you came in here before, I thought you were merely fans of the series?"

Despite himself, a bitter laugh escaped him. "Would have believed us if we told you the truth? We’d lost touch with Chuck in recent years; you were our best chance at reconnecting." He waved a hand. "Look, point being, the books are making the characters lose face and that needs to be fixed while we still have a fanbase. Becky here is the girl for the job. Very talented writer, will do her research into legends and myths, save our boys from their own damnation, and will be in constant access of your office, having no problem submitting her stories for approval and whatever minor corrections you see fit before they go to publishing." He kicked her foot and she nodded vehemently. "If she gives you any lip, all you have to do is give me a call."

It was more than several hours later, with many assurances and reassurances, not to mention proof they weren’t lying, like Becky procuring a key from her purse that went to Chuck’s house, and –thanks to Castiel- the other men pulling out their own copies of the key, before Sera agreed to the Deal. When it looked like it might go south, Dean glanced at Cas, willing him to work his mojo on the publicist, full on Obi-Wan her. It was much like watching a channel change.

After Becky had signed the contract and they hung around long enough to hear Sera make the calls about the books being yanked off shelves before leaving, Dean refusing to release Becky’s arm until they were out in the parking lot. The moment they were out in the night air she started squealing hysterically, incessantly gushing about all the plans she had for the series and how this was going to be such an opportunity to repair the damage done.

Dean spun her around to face him. "Stop talking, Becky, or I’ll sic my angel on you." She fell silent, but the wide grin on her face at his words was no source of comfort. "Okay, ground rules. If you so much as hint at-at Wincest, I swear to God, I will kill you. First I will torture you, and you know my skills, and then I will kill you. And when I’m done, Castiel here-"

"Will bring you back to life so he can do it all over again."

Dean nodded, giving her a gravely serious face. "I already lost my brother, so don’t you dare insult his memory."

For once, Becky had a wholly sympathetic expression on her face, and Dean had to fight back the horror that having read the books, she knew exactly how much he grieved the loss of his little brother.

"Dean, I would never do anything to hurt Sam or disrespect his memory." The moment passed and she waved a hand flippantly. "Besides, that ship went down like the Titanic for me way back when you were raised from Hell. I would never pair him with you anymore."

Castiel was giving Dean a horrified expression. "People thought you and Sam were in a romantic relationship? Did the book not portray you as brothers?"

"Apparently loving someone, family or no, means you want to have sex with them."

He looked back at the blonde, reassessing her. "What manner of creature are you?"

She winked at him. "A fangirl. Fear me."

Snapping his fingers to regain her attention, Dean folded his arms across his chest. "Okay, good, no wincest. I don’t fancy being thrown back into Hell. Since you have a key- and I don’t want to know how you got it-"

"I did date the man, you know."

"You need to get over to Chuck’s, start going through his files, his paperwork, everything. See what you can find and start working from there. I’m sure you have my number that you stole from Chuck’s phone before someone took a magic eraser to it. Call me if you find anything and when you get everything settled and organized, we may need you to give us any info we don't already have. You can set up base in his house for all I care. The publishing company has been using money from the royalty checks to keep his bills paid, the rest going into a savings account for him."

"What about the two of you?" she questioned.

Dean and Castiel turned and met each other’s gazes for a long moment, the angel giving an infinitesimal shake of his head as though reading Dean’s thoughts. He probably was.

The hunter turned back to the blonde. "We’ve got ourselves a Prophet to find."

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

“No, Dean.”

“Would you relax? It’s not a big deal, why make it one?”

The angel rounded on him seriously. “Dean, I cannot allow you to take part in the search for Charles. I will see to this matter personally, there’s no need to involve yourself.”

Dean shook his head in confusion. “Cas, man, I don’t think you get this. See, I know Chuck. He damn well knows everything in my dirty laundry, so that makes us like friends, see? Mutual acquaintances. Not close, but still. When a friend goes missing? The other friend has to go and look for them.”

“Dean.” Impatience seeped into Castiel’s tone. “This is why I was forbidden from coming to see you. You are no longer in the hunter lifestyle; that is to be respected. You are free to live a normal life, and I was order not to do anything that would jeopardize your new life. With Lisa.”

Waving a hand dismissively, the hunter scoffed. “Screw Heaven’s orders, man. You’ve defied them before, don’t know why you would ever start listening to them again after everything that went down.”

“I am being serious.”

“So am I,” the brunette threw back, growing angry. “Hell, if I was so worried about staying out of trouble, I would have moved the three of us somewhere Sam could never find us since according to the books, his sudden reappearance is what finally gets me back in. No, I read the books and immediately called you. The angel that is the Big Bad of prophesied days, wanting to stop us from walking down that road, man.”

Cas shook his head. “They are not prophecies, though, Dean. Your worry was misplaced.”

The angel just wasn’t getting it, and Dean didn’t know how to make him understand. Anyone else would’ve, should’ve understood, it was simple enough, coming right back down to loyalty and doing what was right.

Placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder, Dean prodded his finger at the angel’s crooked tie. “Cas. You… you are more concerned with my having the apple pie life than I am. I threw it out the window the moment I thought my friends and family were in danger: happily, willingly. I wasn’t being dragged back in kicking and screaming, dude.”

Brows knit in confusion as Cas angled his head questioningly. “What about Lisa?”

“What about her? Being there for those that need you is just what you do. She’ll understand and even expect me to go, concerned, of course, but that’s also what friends do for each other. You worry, you challenge, you aide, you damn well search for them if they go missing.” He shook his head. “You don’t just cut out the good people in your life because you want something different.”

At a loss, Castiel stepped away with a shake of his head, separating them in the mostly vacant parking lot. “I do not understand.” He pivoted to offer Dean an utterly confused and lost expression. “I thought you wanted a life with her. That you had come to love her-“

“No, no, I’m not saying I don’t care about Lisa, I do. And I’m not saying I’m dropping everything to get back into hunting. I’m not, I just want to help look for Chuck. Being with her doesn’t mean I can’t help others anymore, just that I guard against bringing it home with me.” He ran a hand over his hair, struggling to find the words. “Lisa has been… Cas, man, she’s been my saving grace through all of this. When I was drowning, she took me in and offered me a place to hide from the things I couldn’t face, couldn’t handle. She kept me alive. She is loving and sweet and loyal and she loves her son more than any kid has ever been loved.”

“You feel indebted to her.”

“No, dude! She is a very dear friend! If I left with you to hunt for Chuck and she called me needing my help, I would turn around and come help her. Maybe it isn’t just one or the other, maybe it’s possible to somehow mesh the two worlds- I’m not saying it would be easy, but that it could be done. Walking away from suburbia and a picket fence doesn’t mean I give up the people in that world that care about me, that see me as a friend, just like being in their lives didn’t stop me when I thought you needed me I came running.”

A rare hint of a smile graced Castiel’s mouth then, fondness showing through before he sighed in defeat. “Very well. What do you propose?”

Glancing at his watch, Dean shook his head. Lisa and Ben would already be home by now and it was Dean’s turn to cook dinner. There wasn’t anything they could do tonight, but at least they were making steps.

“We’re done for tonight, Cas. We’ll figure out where to go from here in the morning.” The angel nodded just as an idea dawned in Dean’s mind. “Hey! Come have dinner with us.”

The other man’s eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. “You’re inviting me to… are you sure that is wise, Dean?”

The hunter nodded enthusiastically, excitement mounting. “Yeah! It’ll be great! Especially now that I know everything is fine in Heaven and we’re cool, you should start coming around more altogether. Apocalypse averted means we get to see each other just because now. You’re going to love Lisa, very down to earth, makes everyone feel at home. She’ll love you.”

“Why?” wondered Castiel in confusion.

The other man shook his head. “Why what?”

“Why will she love me?”

Laughing, Dean threw an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Because anyone who meets you and doesn’t like you, Cas, has something seriously wrong with them. Now get us home, it’s my turn to cook.” The scenery around them shifted mid-step and Dean grinned at the man walking beside him. “You know, it’s kind of scary that is something I’ve gotten use to.”

“I hope it does not continue to cause constipation.” A bark of laughter escaped the taller man, relieved to find he felt better than he had in a very long time.

Inside, he led Castiel through the house looking for Lisa and found her in the kitchen. Sitting at the dining table, she looked up from her magazine with an easy smile when he called her name. Her eyes flicked to Castiel in surprise and she rose as Dean made introductions.

“Lisa, this is my friend Castiel. Cas, this is Lisa. Lis, I invited Cas to stay for dinner.”

The emotions on her face shifted several times, shock, worry, surprise, all before flashing a brilliant smile and offering the angel her hand to shake. “You’re Castiel. It’s so nice to actually meet you.”

As they shook, Castiel gave her his best attempt at a casual smile, though it looked awkward on him, like he wasn’t sure how, and tilted his head to the side. “You’ve heard of me?”

Confused, Lisa glanced at Dean questioningly and then back again. “Well, sure. You’re Dean’s best friend.” She laughed lightly. “Why wouldn’t he have mentioned you?”

A look akin to awe passed over the other man’s face, making Dean roll his eyes and shove away from the counter to inspect the fridge and freezer for what he should make for dinner. The container of red meat caught his eye and made him grin, pulling it out to set it on the counter.

“Oh, uh, Dean, before you get started,” Lisa interjected, making him glance at her over his shoulder, “I do need to speak to you real quick before you get all involved and I forget.” Nodding, he turned to leave, hearing Lisa assure Castiel, “We’ll be just a minute. Make yourself at home.”

In the living room, Dean turned around to face his girlfriend, knowing what it was she wanted. She was watching him worriedly, glancing over her shoulder and making a point to keep her voice low.

“Talk to me, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

He nodded, offering her an affectionate smile at the obvious concern. “Everything’s fine, Lisa.”

Raising a hand, she scratched her brow and ran her fingers through her hair. “Then explain what’s going on. First, with this week with those books: I was really worried, but you won’t tell me what’s in them, and now you brought a-an angel home for dinner- I thought you said he didn’t eat- when you guys haven’t seen each other since the day Sam died, so I’m just a little worried.” Her eyes searched his face. “You would tell me if something were wrong, wouldn’t you?”

Closing the space between them, Dean wrapped his arms around her, one hand rubbing her back. “Yes, I know, I’m sorry I worried you. This week I was really worried, too, thought some really bad stuff was about to go down and it freaked me out.”

She lifted her head to look up at him. “What stuff? What do we need to do to help?”

Chuckling, Dean shook his head. “Nothing. Turns out, I was wrong, but it was the reason I called on Castiel to begin with. We do, however, have another, much smaller problem at hand that he and I need to look into.”

Her head tilted to the side, eyes playing over his face. Her head tilt wasn’t endearing like Castiel’s was, it was just the face of a friend concerned, but didn’t evoke an affectionate amusement in the hunter like when the angel did it.

“What is it?”

“A friend of ours, Chuck, is missing. That’s where we were today, actually. Went by his house and the publisher’s office to see if we could find anything. Nothing. Another friend of our’s, Becky, is gonna go through all of Chuck’s stuff, see if she can’t find us any clues.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is it a, uh, case? Like, your old work? Or is it a normal missing person deal?”

Shrugging, he scratched his jaw. “Actually, we aren’t sure yet. He and I are gonna figure out where to go from here in the morning. Thought about heading over to Bobby’s, seeing what he knows or has heard.”

“Well, I can make some calls on my end, put out a missing person’s report, get cops looking for him.”

Grimacing, Dean shook his head. “Ah, see… that’s the thing. If he’s just up and gone on vacation, or even if he is missing, we don’t really want the whole world to know. In fact, the fewer people that know, the better.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted him found.”

“We do, but Chuck is, well, Chuck’s a prophet of the Lord, to be perfectly honest, and no, I am not shitting you. I know the demon world must have heard about him by now, so I don’t want them out looking for him either. It’s just a mess. As long as they don’t intend to kill him, the angel watching out for him can’t interfere. You can do a whole lot to a person without killing them, is my thinking.”

She nodded, lips pursed together as she thought. “Even still, I can talk to Mike and Chris down at the station, ask them to find out anything they can but keep it on the down low as a favor. An eccentric relative that may or may not be missing, and we’re just concerned.” Inquiring eyes swiveled to his face. “How long will you be gone?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I hope we find him quickly and that’s that.” She nodded and he hooked his chin toward the kitchen. “Now let’s get back in their before Cas has a relapse and eats dinner before it’s cooked.”

“Before he what?!”

Castiel was sitting in Lisa’s previous spot, looking at, but not touching the magazine. Like a child caught in the act, he quickly rose to his feet when they entered, glancing around as if for something else to busy himself with. Dean wasn’t sure why Cas looked guilty, it was just a Better Home & Garden magazine. Maybe it was because the magazine was not his and he had done so without asking, in which case, he’d been told to make himself at home, but to Castiel that probably didn’t mean the same as it did to other people.

If it had been a Cosmo magazine, Dean probably would have taken it and given it to Lisa to put away. He wasn’t ready to answer any questions the angel would undoubtedly have about the magazine, not to mention, he’d read the book where Castiel discovered porn and regarded it with a student’s curiosity.

Nope, they were not having the sex talk. He’d tried educating Cas in sex once by taking him to a brothel, and the poor angel had looked so much like a deer in headlights Dean never approached the subject again. He felt rather bad about it retrospect as well.

Flashing a broad grin at his friend, Dean announced, “Guess what? Since you’re our guest, we’re having your favorite tonight.”

Puzzled, Castiel shook his head, frowning. “Dean, I don’t eat, you know this. How can I have a favorite?”

Dean winked at him. “I’m grilling hamburgers, just for you.” The angel blinked in surprise, and to Dean’s amusement seemed to take on a faint hue of embarrassment at the memory, his gaze falling. Having shown a weakness, even while under the influence of a Horseman had been a huge sense of failure to the angel. “We don’t have enough to cook what I know you can eat, but you get the very rare privilege of a Dean Burger Special.”

“That really is not necessary, Dean, but I appreciate the thought,” insisted the angel, watching as Dean and Lisa moved in sync around each other in the kitchen preparing for the meal.

Handing her a cutting board while she held out an apron, Dean waved Cas off. “Nothing doing. You’re eating at least one burger.”

Puzzled, Castiel cocked his head, regarding Dean. “You are… unusually cheerful.”

Lisa laughed and grinned at Castiel. “I’ll say. It’s almost a little creepy. He’s never been in this good of a mood. You’ll have to come around more often if it does this.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean continued to season and stir the meat in a bowl before separating pieces off into patties and setting them on a tray to cook.

“Forgive me if finding out the world isn’t in danger puts me in brighter spirits,” he groused. “This morning I thought the planet was in jeopardy. Now I know it isn’t. That’s cause for a little celebration in my book.” He lifted his gaze to meet Castiel’s. “Isn’t that right, Feathers?”

A smirk made it’s way across the angel’s face. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were drunk, Dean.” A pause. “‘Feathers’ is what Bobby calls me.” Dean noted this was said with some affection, which made him smile, liking the fact that the angel had come to care about each of the members of his family.

The hunter shrugged in response, nudging Lisa with his elbow. She gave him a curious look. He nodded to the other man. “Take care of him while I do this. You’ll probably have to explain the basics if you get him to help.”

“I would like to assist, if I may,” offered Castiel, taking a step forward.

Outside, Dean busied himself with his task, enjoying the evening more than he was willing to admit. He’d have never thought it possible. There was something so surreal about the idea of it, even more so, the sight of Castiel in the kitchen with Dean’s girlfriend, his coat draped over the back of a chair and sleeves rolled up while Lisa instructed him how to wash and the slice the different vegetables.

He was happy the world wasn’t coming down around his ears, for once things were still normal, so sue him if he was a little excited. Given Dean’s life, he was surprised his reprieve had lasted this long. Until he actually thought the world was about to be thrown back into peril again, Dean didn’t realize how much he’d been waiting on something to go wrong. Like holding his breath waiting for the other shoe to fall. Things had been going well, they had been peaceful, it was only a matter of time before something happened to ruin it, right?

Sam had tried the whole normal life thing once, and it ended with his girlfriend in flames on the ceiling. It was why there were Devil’s traps and anti-evil sigils and wards hidden all over the house. Lisa actually even had an anti-possession tattoo on her foot, whilst Ben wore a bracelet and necklace set inscribed with sigils Dean made him swear never to take off. He’d lost so many friends in previous years, he was determined not to lose anymore.

Looking in the kitchen again, Dean felt some of his mirth dissipate as he realized something was wrong with the picture. It wasn’t that Castiel was a guest, or the two of them working together, the way Lisa laughed easily and seemed at ease with the angel. Suddenly it was Dean who felt out of place, as though having overstayed his welcome and this was no longer where he belonged. He knew, of course, that that was not entirely true, he could never overstay his welcome with Lisa, but it was like an epiphany as well.

He didn’t want the perfect apple pie life with her. He loved her, sure, but not the way he should, not the way she deserved. He wasn’t in love with her, and that wasn’t fair to her. Not to mention, part of his excitement actually came from the fact that he had something to do now, someone in need of his help again, and he was looking forward to it. The world wasn’t in danger, hell wasn’t opening its doors; it was just one person someplace other than where they ought to be that needed to be found. The prospect of righting that small wrong filled Dean with anticipation.

He didn’t want to have the weight of the world on his shoulders again, but Dean missed saving just regular people from the low-level nasties that resided in the world. It may have made him sound a lot like Sam, or actually even a much younger version of himself, but he liked helping people, it was what made the job worthwhile, was why it had once appealed to him so much, made him idolize his father so much. The job had its downfalls, but at the end of the day, you were making the world a safer place like a soldier on the battlefront.

But… how could he possibly explain that to Lisa? What would she say? God, after everything she’d done for him, would she see it as a betrayal? A slap in the face? It’s not that he didn’t want the house, the yard, the fence, but it wasn’t right to continue sharing her life when it wasn’t… right. It wasn’t what he was looking for exactly. He didn’t know just yet what that was, but this wasn’t it. It wasn’t him.

How would he ever be able to even tell her that?

“Dean?” He looked up in surprise to see Castiel standing there holding an empty platter, gaze narrowed, ascertaining. “I was told to bring this to you.” The other man accepted the tray gratefully, sliding cooked hamburger patties on to it. “Is everything alright? You…”

Green eyes flicked to blue. “I what?”

“You’re upset now.”

Lowering his gaze, Dean shook his head. “Nah. Just worried about Chuck is all. Wondering where we even start looking.”

That look as though he knew more than he was letting on passed over Castiel’s face, like he had some deep understanding of all the things Dean didn’t and wasn’t saying, the eyes that penetrated inside of him so that there was nothing kept secret. Uncomfortable, Dean busied himself with the food, keeping his gaze downcast.

The angel said nothing, just took the platter from Dean as it was offered, holding it while the other man placed the last of the meat on it. Inside, Ben had already come down from finishing his homework and was helping his mother set the table. Dean felt a heart pang at the sight of it, knowing he had to leave them because it was only right by them, but also knowing he would also miss them because he’d begun getting use to the three of them as a little family.

“Everything will be alright,” assured Castiel softly. The taller man looked at him in surprise. “You aren’t alone, Dean. You never will be.”

---

The morning found Dean anxious. It felt so weird to have to get his old duffel bag out of the Impala, then toss it back in the trunk with a week’s worth of clothes. The cloth that had covered the Impala for the past several months was now piled in the corner of the garage, Dean having back his baby out already. He stood back, regarding her with a keen eye as doubt and worry plagued him.

He could do this. It was no big deal. He wasn’t about to plunge headlong into a fight to save the planet again, he was just looking for one person, no big. It would take a week tops and then he’d be done and things would go back to normal.

What normal though? Did he really want to come back to live with Lisa working a construction job every day? The idea rather horrified him, the mediocrity of it. He hated the mundaneness. At first, it had been a relief, there were no surprises, and it was just a job. It had kept him busy, which kept his mind from focusing on things he didn’t want to, but now…

An arm slipped around his waist, Lisa sidling up to hug him from the side. “Worried?” He gave a nod. “You’ll find him. I wonder how long it will take.”

Dean shook his head. “When Cas gets here, I think we’ll head to Bobby’s first, start doing research and making phone calls from there.”

“Mission Control Center.” She chuckled. “What will you do when you find him?”

Blinking, Dean looked down at her in surprise, one arm loosely falling across her body. “Make him go back home and start doing his job again,” he answered at a loss. What else would he do? “Make him promise to start checking in weekly or we’ll send in a search party again.”

Smiling, she shook her head. “No, I meant what will you do? Are you going to try to take up hunting again now that the world isn’t in danger anymore? Or are you going to come back here and continue playing house with me and Ben?”

He stepped out of her embrace, turning to face her with a frown. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

She gave him a sad smile and a shake of her head. “Dean, you know this life isn’t making you very happy, it isn’t you. It’s so far removed from your mindset, it’s something altogether foreign. I know we mean a lot to you, and we both love you dearly, but Dean I think you and I both realize neither of us is in love with the other. We have contentment, but…” She paused, choosing her words. “We both deserve something more. Someone who is in love with us, desperately, and we love them just as much.”

Shocked, Dean held up a hand for her to stop the onslaught of words coming from her mouth. “Wait. Y-you’re breaking up with me? Are you serious? Where did this come from? Is this about going on the case? Lis, I don’t have to go-”

She shook her head. “No, don’t think of it quite like that. Dean, if you want to come back here afterward and us go back to the way things have been, sure, let’s go. I’m saying, I think you would be happier doing what you do best,” She took one of his hands in hers, “eventually finding someone who can offer you a mix of this life and yours- a fellow hunter or what have you. The two of you could open a roadhouse like Ellen did, and only hunt within a certain radius or something.” She shook her head. “Dean, I don’t think you’ll ever be fully happy if there are still things in this world hurting innocent, unassuming people and you aren’t out there doing anything about it.”

Baffled, he shook his head. “What makes you think I want to leave? Go back to hunting?”

She truly seemed amused by his asking, because she laughed again, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation. “Really, Dean? I knew when you got those books there was a good chance you would leave to go save the world again, but when you came home with Castiel last night? Looking happier than I have seen you in years? I officially wished you luck and was happy you were finally getting back to happy again. You don’t need us the way you did when you showed up here three months ago. You can survive now, and even though you leave, you aren’t alone, and this isn’t the end for us.” She poked him square in the chest with a glare. “You and I are still friends, and you damn well better call if you need anything or come save me if I ever need it. You have to work on your relationship skills, Dean. I expect to hear from you, weekly, even if it’s just a text message, keep me updated on what’s going on, let me know when you find your friend, let me know what you’re doing in your life.”

He stared at her incredulously, opening his mouth to speak, then shutting it again. Letting his gaze flit over her face, he shook his head again. “I just- this is not how I expected this morning to go. I’m just going find a friend, Lis, I’m not dropping everything to go gallivanting across the country for kicks and giggles. I had planned to be back as soon as we found him.”

She angled her head. “Doesn’t it feel better though? Knowing that when you do find him, you’re free to do whatever you want, which still includes coming back to us if you choose?”

And it did.

At a loss, he reached out and hugged her, kissing the top of her head and willing her to understand the gratitude he felt for this most recent act of kindness.

“I owe you everything, Lisa.”

He could tell she rolled her eyes again, even while she hugged him back. “Don’t be an idiot. You don’t owe me a thing. As much as you do for others, have done for me and my son, oh and did I mention the part where you and your brother saved the world? I’m not keeping score, Dean, just offering to do what I can to help you.”

A flutter of wings informed them of Castiel’s arrival, forcing them apart. The angel regarded them uncertainly.

“I am… interrupting?”

“No, no, we were just, uh,” Dean looked at Lisa the truth to his words sinking in, “we were saying good-bye.”

Smiling, she hugged him tight again, and then moved over to hug Castiel. The angel floundered awkwardly for a moment, sending a panicked look at Dean. The hunter mimicked hugging her back.

When he was released, Cas frowned down at the woman smiling at him. Her expression was all seriousness. “I’m trusting you to look after Dean, keep him out of trouble and safe, you hear?” He nodded solemnly. “And you take care of yourself as well, God only knows what kind of neurotic mess he’d turn into if he lost the angel on his shoulder. And if the two of you are ever this way, we’ll all have dinner again, okay?”

Dean tried not to notice the way her voice changed as she spoke, how she was clearly fighting tears. Castiel was worriedly looking at Dean again, as if asking what he’d done wrong and how to fix it. Reaching out, Dean gently took Lisa by the shoulders and folded her into himself while she hung on and sniffed into his shoulder.

“Just promise me you’ll be okay,” she said wetly. “That you won’t take any stupid risks or save the planet again.”

“We’ll be okay. And I never signed up to save the planet the first time. Sam did all the work anyway,” he assured her softly with a wry smile.

“The big hero.”

“Moose-sized.”

She shoved him away, brushing tears from her cheeks with the palm of her hand and forcing a wet laugh. “Now hurry up and go find your prophet. Tell him not to quit his day job since he didn’t see this coming.”

Dean had said good-bye to Ben earlier before he left for school, though he hated ruining the kid’s day like that, it was better than him coming home just to find the man gone. Castiel was silent for a whole twenty minutes of the car ride before he dared speak, probably trying to give Dean time to deal with his own emotions about what had taken place.

“Dean, I’m not comfortable with this,” admitted the other man, twisting in his seat to regard the hunter. “I was strictly told not to get involved with you, not to do anything that might jeopardize your life, and now it is officially jeopardized.” A bitter laugh escaped Dean. “You and Lisa ended your relationship, didn’t you?”

“The romantic aspect of it? Yes. Altogether? No.”

“You need to turn the car around and go back, Dean. I cannot ask you to go back into the hunter lifestyle, to give up a home where you were safe and happy, to leave your family behind. I will continue the search for Charles.”

The brunette rolled his eyes. “First, you didn’t ask me to, this was my idea, remember? Secondly, things weren’t right between me and Lisa, we’re much more suited as friends than lovers. Her voicing my own feelings was like a huge weight off my shoulders. I love her and Ben dearly, but I am not the Jack to her Rose, so this is much better and we will all be happier than settling for contentment.”

“I do not understand that reference.”

“We have got to get you to watch more movies, man. Titanic. Based on an actual ship went down almost a hundred years ago on it’s maiden voyage and most everyone died. The point is, Cas, I am happy with the way things have turned out. Quit stressing over it. Lisa will find her one true love, and someday, I might find somebody crazy enough to put up with me till death do we part. I feel free to be me, man.”

Castiel regarded him curiously, head angled as those blue eyes flicked over the hunter’s face. “Dean, someone would have to be crazy not to fall in love with you.” The hunter blushed profusely, feeling the heat creep up from his neck until even the tips of his ears were hot. The angel pivoted back in his seat, seemingly unaware. He sighed. “I just want you safe and happy, Dean, regardless of where you find it. You’ve earned that. But if you are determined to go through with this, then it is you who must call and tell Bobby.” Dejected, he seemed to sink into the seat of the Impala. “Even still, he may well kill me.”

One hand already dialing the number, Dean nodded, agreeing it would be best not to catch his surrogate father off guard. “Why do you say that?”

“He was the one who ordered me to leave you alone in the first place.”

----

If Dean had expected much of a fight out of Bobby for his decision, he didn’t get one. Bobby was, however, immediately worried when he answered Dean’s call and half the conversation had been spent assuring the older man than nothing was wrong and he didn’t need to bring an armory to Lisa’s house. The other half was spent explaining that Dean and Castiel were headed to his house and why. Bobby had demanded to speak to Cas, but Dean had refused, recalling all the begging and pleading and guilt the angel had already gone through trying to get Dean to go back to Lisa, practically flogging himself as the responsible party.

When they finally did get to Bobby’s and unloaded from the car, Dean grabbed Castiel by the elbow and dragged him out of sight from the house, pulling him into a tight embrace once more. Cas readily hugged him back this time.

“I meant what I said, Cas,” he admitted in a low gruff voice. “It is so good to be able to see you again. I didn’t just lose Sam that day- I lost my whole damn family. Sam, Bobby, and you. I won’t do that again. I can’t.” He stepped back, one hand on the angel’s shoulder as he gave him a serious look. “So I don’t care who or what orders you to stay away from me in the future, you cuss them in every language you know and then immediately come find me. You are always welcome in my life, Cas.”

Blinking rapidly, Dean was surprised when the angel was forced to break eye contact, nodding silently while he recomposed himself. “I believe you are the first person to ever tell me such a thing. It is… deeply comforting to know.”

Clapping him once on the back, Dean nodded and started walking toward the house. “C’mon. Let’s get this ass chewing over with so we can actually get to work.”

Opening the door, Bobby immediately pulled Dean into a bear hug, grumbling softly about what an idjit Dean was and how there was no hope for him. The younger man laughed and clapped him on the back.

“Good to see you, too, Iron Sides.”

“Not in a chair anymore, idjit. And you,” The last word came out as a growl as he fixed his eyes on Castiel, who stood warily back. “I specifically told you-“

“Ah, tch, tch. Lay off the angel, Bobby. I called him in a panic, and like a true friend he immediately came to my aid regardless of whatever consequences he would reap because of it. You leave my boy alone.”

“Isn’t that sweet,” a voice inside interjected. “Claiming ownership already. Please let me know when the wedding is so I can be sure to send a present.”

Dean frowned at the sight of Crowley leaning against the counter of the kitchen, neither Bobby nor Castiel acted as though it were something out of the ordinary or cause for alarm. Flabbergasted, he looked at all three men.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

Grousing, Bobby walked away swearing mildly under his breath as he lead them inside. Crowley smiled and wagged his fingers at Dean while Cas shut the door.

“Crowley has taken to making regular visits here in past months,” explained the angel flatly. “Apparently, the King of Hell has loads of free time on his hands and nothing better to do than plague the rest of us.”

“Now, now, darling, don’t get testy with me after your long car ride,” tsked the demon. “You ought to be more grateful I’m here on such friendly terms as we are natural enemies and you boys have caused me quite a bit of trouble.”

“Then why are you here,” demanded Dean.

With a wave of his hand, a drink appeared in the demon’s hand. He took a sip of the amber liquid. “Well, see, after everything that happened, I unfortunately realized the scales were still very much tipped in your favor, I’m simply here trying to rebalance the scales.”

“Everything we did put him in our debt,” clarified Cas, coming to stand at Dean’s elbow. “He’s bound to us until he pays it off. A predicament unforeseen by either party.”

“He’s not willing to just pay us back and be done with it either, he picks how and when he makes payments,” griped Bobby from the study.

“So making us all filthy rich so we can do our jobs without credit card scams and hustling is off the table, am I right?”

Smiling, Crowley shrugged, “Oh, I could, but it wouldn’t affect the scale much because it wouldn’t have any real meaning to it. You don’t need or want it desperately, you see? I needed the world saved. I wanted to be King of Hell. Being king doesn’t matter if you’ve no kingdom to rule.” He winked at Dean, making the hunter glare and set his jaw. “Though quite frankly, I’m very glad things have worked out to where you’re back in the life, makes my job of paying my debts a great deal easier seeing as how I owe you as well. What with the way these morons have tried so hard to keep you away, I might never have been free to go about my business. I am a very busy man after all.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean ignored the demon and ventured into the study where Bobby was behind the desk flipping through a book, probably already researching prophets since Dean had informed of what was going on over the phone.

“Why were you so desperate to keep me away anyway, Bobby?” He stood in the middle of the room with his arms folded across his chest. “I mean, okay, I get you wanted me out of the hunter life, but man, that doesn’t mean you just cut all contact with a person. What? You think a phone call or a visit would have pulled me back into the hunter lifestyle, as if that was all it would take?”

“It was too risky,” the other man argued, not looking up. Castiel was glaring at Crowley as if ordering him to keep his mouth shut and wipe that damn amused look off his face. “I didn’t want to give you any ammunition to kill the shot at a normal life you had.”

“What ammunition?” he demanded angrily.

“Me,” a voice interjected softly from the doorway.

Dean froze at the sound, knowing that voice as well as he knew his own or Castiel’s. It was a voice he knew he’d never hear again. He knew. So why was no one looking at him? Instead they all dropped their gazes guiltily or busied themselves in the other room, leaving Dean to steel himself up, preparing to find out his imagination was being a cruel bastard, as he slowly turned to face the speaker.

Tears immediately welled in his eyes, heart caught in his throat as he was torn between the need to sit down and surging forward to hug the man leaning casually against the doorframe, hands in his pockets.

Sam gave him an apologetic smile. “Hey, Dean.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

Dean surged forward, throwing his arms around his brother and holding on with the desperation of a drowning man. Sam gripped him tight, softly whispering words Dean really couldn’t hear over the sounds of his heart pounding in his ears, the roaring of emotions that threatened to turn him into an emotional mess with a practical audience of witnesses.

“You’re alive,” Dean finally managed to whisper, choking back sobs, barely managing some level of control. He stepped back, hands still gripping his brother’s arms as he let his eyes play over the face he’d known he would never see again. “Sammy, you’re alive.” He swallowed thickly, shaking his head as confusion and a sense of betrayal swept in. “Why didn’t anybody tell me?”

“We were going to eventually, Dean,” Sam assured him. His expression was so apologetic and Dean knew it was that same face that had always gotten Sam his way with people where Dean failed. “We wanted you to give the apple pie life a real shot without distraction or feeling obligated to look after me.” He shook his head. “Besides, when I did come back, I was in no shape to do anything, so we were both forced out of the lifestyle.”

Releasing his brother, Dean looked him over from head to toe. He looked the same, okay, maybe leaner like he’d lost weight, in fact, what with his height, he almost had the same awkward skinny look he’d had when Dean came to him at Stanford all those years ago. With a smile, Sam leaned against the doorframe again, tiredly.

Dean’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, recognizing something wasn’t right. “What’s wrong? Why are you having to lean?”

Bobby coughed lightly, drawing Dean’s demanded glare. “Because when he came back, he was like a coma patient just waking up. He’s been having to relearn everything, even walking. His body’s fine, he’s just gotta get it back in prime condition is all.”

Green eyes snapped back to his brother. “But you’re okay, right? Healthy? No heart problems? Soul’s intact? Cas, check and make sure his soul is there.” This last part he ordered, spinning around to face the angel standing in the corner.

He frowned, angling his head. “Check his soul?” His frown deepened. “I don’t understand.”

“You know: roll up your sleeve, stick your arm in him, check if he has a soul.”

“Dean, why would-“

“Because in Chuck’s books Sam doesn’t have a soul so will you damn well check already!?”

Sam blinked in confusion, gaze sweeping back and forth between his brother and the angel. “Wait, what?”

The angel of the Lord was shaking his head, hands up in a placating manner. “Dean, I already told you those books are false prophecies as they were not written by Charles, therefore your concern over their content is unnecessary. I assure you that Sam has a soul and it is in perfect condition.”

“How?”

“Because I can see it, Dean.” The angel shook his head in aggravation. “Because being brought back after choosing to sacrifice himself for the sake of the world was God’s reward to Sam for his actions, much like how when his own son died so that humanity might be set free. God would not bring him back with a ravaged, broken, or missing soul. Not to mention that without a soul to occupy a body, the body is inanimate.”

“Just a meatsuit,” offered Crowley. “Empty.”

Dean’s gaze flicked to each of them in turn, gauging how much he was willing to trust them. Any other day when a hunter, an angel, and a demon all agreed it was generally a bad thing.

But he saw the logic in what they were saying as well. “Oh.” He turned back to Sam. “B-but you’re okay, right? No problems?”

“Dean, I’m fine.”

The brunette nodded rapidly. “Okay… okay. I can live with that. Then tell me again why no one told me and why you’re riding with training wheels again?”

The demon in the room sighed dramatically, drawing all attention to where he stood. He made a show of checking his watch.

“Well, I don’t have to be here for this and I do have a schedule to keep, so if you’ll be excusing me.” He had the audacity to wink at Dean. “Ta-ta.”

He vanished between on blink and the next, leaving the elder Winchester scowling at empty air. In the corner, Cas sighed in relief.

“Thought he’d never leave,” he admitted flatly, expression softening from anger to general curiosity in the situation at hand. He motioned to the love seat by the doorway. “You should probably sit down, Sam.”

Dean skittered out of his brother’s way, fighting back to urge to offer him help or hover like a worried mother hen in general. Looking grateful for the suggestion, the younger man eased down onto the worn cushion, head falling back with a sigh. Dean glanced around frantically, motioning at Sam.

“Why is he like this? Why are you like this? What went wrong? I thought you were brought back fine.”

His brother chuckled in amusement at his panic, which Dean didn’t appreciate. First his brother was dead, then possibly alive but without a soul, then still trapped in Hell, then alive again, but without the strength to stand. Forgive him if he wasn’t able to just accept things calmly; he wanted specifics about Sam’s current state.

“We die more than anyone else I know,” Sam said, laughing lightly.

“Ash said the same thing.”

“You still hold the crown on having died the most times, though.”

“Yeah, well, don’t go challenging my record. C’mon, Sammy, tell what’s going on.”

Sam shook his head, mouth wilting at the corners before he spoke. “Nothing much to tell. When I was brought back, it was like I fell into the pit mouth and landed in the middle of this very room about a few days later. Scared the hell out of Bobby, apparently.”

“Apparently?” echoed Dean. “You don’t know?”

His brother shook his head. “I was unconscious at the time.”

“In a damn coma was what you were, boy,” groused Bobby, causing Dean to pivot. “Couldn’t move you an inch to save my own life. Had to call Cas just to get you up off the floor and into a bed.” Conceding the point, Sam shrugged in a what-can-you-do manner.

“It was actually Crowley that made him wake up from that state,” interjected Cas softly. “And gave Sam at least enough strength he was not totally dependent on others for everything.”

“Also known as: no diapers or sponge bathes.”

“So I’m guessing his debt to you is paid, then?” questioned Dean, folding his arms as he let the scene play out in his head. He could only imagine the three of them standing around while Sam lay comatose and none of them knew why or how he was even alive.

“Least of their worries at the time; they were more concerned I’d wake up Lucifer at first-“

“But I assured them both that Sam was strictly Sam,” stated Cas, blue eyes locking on Dean’s. The hunter nodded in gratitude. “What Crowley did, he did of his own volition, said he’d been made King of Hell and was feeling… ‘a might generous’ not to mention, the only conclusion any of us could come up with was that God brought back Sam, and it was He who reduced Sam to such a state in order to keep him out of the hunter lifestyle just as you were.”

“You boys don’t slow down unless yer forced to.”

“And my Father knew this,” the angel agreed, nodding.

Sam shrugged. “Everything’s fine, it’s just a process of getting me back where I was and I’ve had plenty of help, so it won’t take long. Being tired right now is only because I’ve had a busy day of intense physical therapy.”

Frowning, Dean glanced at the other faces in the room, unable to imagine either of them helping Sam with physical therapy. Ellen or Jo would’ve, sure, but they were girls, so it was kind of different than a gruff old drunk and a socially inept Angel of the Lord helping the hunter relearn how to use his muscles. They had neither the mentality nor the nature for it.

“Someone scrounge up the money to hire a home care nurse way out here?”

Chuckling, Sam clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Well… we eventually did get one out here, but she was a friend called in as a favor just to run someone else through all the steps so they could do it at no charge.”

“Okay, so who?”

Dean’s frown deepened when a nervous laugh escaped his brother. “Well, ah… Sarah, actually.”

Vaguely familiar, but no one came to mind, after all it was a fairly common name with multiple spellings. “Who?”

“Y’know… Sarah. Works at an art gallery with her father, we met her when hunting the haunted painting that had the little girl in it that was murdering the buyers? Sarah.”

Snapping his fingers in realization, Dean nodded. “Oh! Yeah, the girl you need to marry. Hadn’t heard from her in a while- wait, how’d she even find you?”

His brother shrugged. “She’d been searching for a while, apparently. Since she actually knew our names and occupation it made it easier, then she stumbled across Chuck’s books, started searching for ‘recurring characters’, she said.” He used his fingers to make air quotations. “Ones that would lead her to us. Made her way through a long list of Bobbies with auto repair shops and junkyards till she found the right one.”

“Takes a whole mess of tenacity to manage something like that,” grumbled Bobby, even whilst sounding somewhat impressed by the impossible feat. “She damn well volunteered to be put through all the tests before I would let her in the house. I even dropped the word ‘Cristos’ a couple a times; she never flinched.”

“Did you test to see if an angel was wearing her instead of a demon or a shifter?” Cas raised a hand to signal he had. Motioning to his brother, Dean asked, “Now do you guys see why I told him he needed to marry her? The boy could have been crawling in rug rats by now.”

Blinking in confusion, Cas angled his head. “What manner of vermin is that and why would he want it?”

“Having half a dozen kids and a wife would have made his sacrifice a tad more difficult to go through with I would think, Dean.”

Conceding his surrogate father’s point, Dean waved him off. “Yeah, okay, timing is better now, I’ll admit. So, it took you going stupidly noble and sacrificing yourself to save the world in order for you to get a girl?” He gave a low whistle and shook his head, walking away.

A small cushion hit him in the back. “Shut up, jerk.”

He threw it back. “Get up and make me, bitch.”

“And Sarah and I are not together. We’re just friends, since apparently once the dust settled, you and I found ourselves with fewer allies than ever and can’t exactly be choosy.”

Yeah, well, that was true. Everyone they knew and trusted was practically present in the room. God, their lives sucked.

“So,” began Sam, clapping his hands together, “apparently we having a missing person’s case on our hands and Cas said something about… false prophecies?”

It took a while, but Dean got both Sam and Bobby up to speed on their current situation, how he was the one to have called Castiel to begin with out of concern that the future was about to turn very bleak, and that was when they realized something was wrong with the Prophet of the Lord. The night before, Cas had returned to Heaven in order to find out what he could there, but the angels that guarded Chuck had seemingly gone missing along with him. They could not be sensed by the higher up angels, they did not answer to summons, the archangels weren’t even sure they were receiving the summons. It was like they and Chuck had vanished off the face of the earth.

They each ran through possible scenarios of what could cause something like that, the best they had was something similar to the runes Castiel had carved into both the Winchester’s ribs so that the other angels couldn’t find him. Which made sense if Chuck had wanted out of his role badly enough to go into a sort of witness protection, if the angels couldn’t find him, maybe the visions would stop and his need for therapy would decrease. The part they couldn’t figure was where Chuck would find an angel to do it for him. In fact, it made no sense that an angel would, but then they also had no explanation as to where he was and why none of the host could find him other than he was being shielded.

They decided to split the nature of their research. Search for miracles, prophecies coming to pass, and fortunetellers. The other search would be for demonic activity, slaughtering of livestock, or sudden fleeing of the wild life in any particular area. Granted, they further narrowed their search by staying away from looking for weirdness involved in big cities, Chuck was too much a neurotic mess and a hermit living in suburbia, a big city really would have driven him off the deep end.

As they settled in with books, Cas sidled up next to Dean, glancing at the other two men before meeting the hunter’s gaze. “Dean, I would like to speak to you for a moment,” he said in a low tone. “In private, if I may.”

Frowning, Dean nodded and followed Castiel outside onto the porch, not speaking until after the door had closed behind them. “What’s up? Is this about Sam? Or Chuck?”

Dean noted the angel actually looked uncomfortable. He rubbed his hands together, glancing cautiously at the door and over his shoulder, only briefly glancing at Dean.

“Uh, no. This is about you, Dean.”

The taller man arched a brow, folding his arms. “Look, is this about me and Lisa again, because I already told you, I’m fine with the way things have turned out. Scan my brain if you don’t believe me, man.”

“It isn’t about that either.” His tongue darted out across his bottom lip, and Dean watched, almost intrigued by the sight. “It’s, well, Dean, you and Sam are also still shielded from the angels, just as we suspect Charles is.”

“Yeah, and?”

“I need to be able to find you if we separate while on this search.”

“You can, dude. You were there instantly the other day.”

Cas shook his head. “I heard you call for me, I felt your panic and agitation as it mounted through the week-“

“Wait. You ‘felt’?”

Serious blue eyes locked with Dean’s. “You and I do share a more profound bond, Dean.” The hunter blinked with a start at his choice in words, a sense of déjà vu washing over him. “Our… friendship is a first as far as I know. Rarely do angels raise souls from Perdition anymore, and certainly none they have ever come to actually have… comradery and affection-“

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Affection?”

The angel furrowed his brows in confusion. “Yes, Dean, feelings of a positive nature that lead to loyalty and concern. ‘Affection’ is a better term than ‘feelings’ because feelings can be antagonistic, indifferent, distrustful, or affectionate, it’s too broad a word and the English language is severely limited.”

Realizing he was being silly, Dean nodded rapidly. “Right, right, we’re pals, gotcha. What’s it got to do with my ribs?”

“You and I are in sync,” agreed Castiel. “It is why I hear you call my name immediately as opposed to Sam or Bobby, where there is some time delay. Hearing you call for my help and being able to come to you are not the same things, though, Dean. The wards I placed on you still hide you even from me.”

“But you came the other day.”

“Only because I knew where you lived and it made the most sense that were you to call for me, it would be within the privacy of your own home rather than out in the open where you might risk exposing humans to the supernatural world around them. If there were an emergency, the cell phone method we have used in the past is most ineffective.”

“Spit it out, man. What have we got to do?”

Hesitating, Castiel glanced up to meet his eyes. “I would need to put a new sigil on you that allows me- and only me- to locate you instantly, whenever and wherever. I have to have your permission before I can do the sigil.”

A chuckle escaped the hunter. “Is that all? Dude, you didn’t ask us the first time you carved us up, don’t know why you’re so worried about it this time around.”

The angel instantly dropped his gaze again. If Dean didn’t know better, he’d have thought there was a hint of a blush to go with Castiel’s flustered behavior now. The hunter narrowed his gaze suspiciously.

“What aren’t you tell me?”

That tongue darted out across his lips again, Cas’s gaze flicking off in the distance. “It’s just… the sigil is a more personal one rather than standard. I’ve never done it before, had occasion to, or even really even thought about it. It… binds us together, you to me, me to you.” He looked up sharply, shaking his head as if to ward off any way Dean’s brain could take that and run with it. “It’s nothing invasive or that will cause you inconvenience, it will just effectively allow me to find you if, say, you find yourself in a fight and need my help.”

The hunter continued to watch him with narrowed gaze, heart still hammering from being caught off guard by Cas’s idea of binding them together permanently. Sounded too much like marriage vows to him. He liked the angel fine, but as far as Dean knew, Hell didn’t put in an ice skating rink recently, so marrying someone who was both an angel and a man were kind of completely unlikely for him.

“What exactly does the sigil translate to?” Cas’s gaze flicked up to meet his, and Dean wondered if it wasn’t taking everything in the angel not to look away again. “What does it say that has you so nervous?”

“It says that you belong to me,” admitted Cas softly. “That I chose you. That you agreed to it.”

Now Dean was blushing bright red. He coughed and ran a hand over his face. “Look Cas, I know you and I have, uh, gotten close in the past years, I mean, you’re the best friend I have, but that sounds an awful lot like-“

“The reasons behind the sigil varies from case to case,” interjected the angel quickly. Dean regarded him curiously. “In the beginning, I was assigned to you. I was a soldier. To raise you from hell, return you to your brother, offer what protection I could to you… those were under orders. It is a known fact among my siblings that I have a soft spot for ‘the Winchesters’, something the other angels found amusing at first but thought would wear off with time once you were no longer a novelty.”

Amusing like hearing what you think is going to turn out to be a joke would be amusing. Only until you find out it isn’t a joke. Then people tend to go from being amused to being angry. Dean knew Cas being his friend had already gotten more than a few people angry.

“The sigil would act as a warning to any angel that you might meet and would attempt to threaten you. It says that you are not a novelty to me, that I am quite serious in my loyalty to you, and that any harm that befalls you will be repaid some hundred fold by one… very pissed off Angel of the Lord.” A wry smile passed over his lips. “It says that if I’m forced to chose between my people and my friends, I’ve already made my decision. It says that I am not ashamed of my friendship with you or your family. It says I made a choice of my own free will and I will stand by it no matter what. It says you’re family.”

Now Dean was embarrassed for an entirely different reason- feeling deeply honored by Cas’s words. Granted, he knew Cas had been willing to defy his family for the sake of what he thought was right, which had included joining forces with a group of humans on their impossible mission. But purposefully defying them, bucking everything he’d come from just to stay loyal to those same people, the awkward alliance that had blossomed into true friendship, that… left Dean at a loss for words to properly express the humility he felt.

So he said the first thing that came to mind. “I believe you are the first person to ever tell me such a thing. It is… deeply comforting to know.” Cas looked up sharply in surprise, hearing his own words repeated back to him.

A smile passed over his lips. “I lost family that day. I won’t do it again. I can’t.”

They shared a smile.

Clearing his throat, Dean threw up a hand. “So, yeah, okay. Sigil. You have my permission. Let’s do this.” He narrowed his gaze again. “It is going to hurt?”

The angel laughed. “There may be minor discomfort, but I will heal it immediately.”

The hunter nodded, saying nothing as Castiel raised both of his hands, placing on in the center of Dean’s chest over his heart, and the other on Dean’s shoulder, fingers perfectly fitting over the scar hidden under Dean’s clothing.

The pain was instant, sharp, like accidentally touching a hot burner on the stove, only to have a cooling salve immediately applied that swept away the pain like a wave washing away foot prints on the sand. Then Cas stepped back to regard Dean like an artist regarding a painting. The hunter glanced down, giving himself a once over.

“Well? Did it work?” The angel nodded. Dean pulled the collar of his shirt out to look down at his own chest. “Am I gonna have some other weird mark on me now? Anti-possession tattoo is one thing, tats a tat to most people, your hand on my arm makes people thing I have Native American ancestors or something, and it’s some kind of tribal homeage or I’m some sort of a Brave.”

“I believe that is usually an animal print, rather than humanoid,” offered the angel distractedly. Dean let his shirt fall back into place and the angel blinked, coming back to himself. “And I do not know if you will have a new mark on the exterior. This is not something angels do with humans, it’s usually strictly between angels. I have very limited information on it other than what I have told you.”

Dean frowned. “Why use it on another angel? Ya’ll can defend yourselves.”

Cas shrugged, gaze drifting to look out over the yard. “I think it has to do with power levels. Say between an archangel and a foot soldier like myself. Becoming friends with someone out of your rank can cause problems. It’s just about the bond between them, that they are on equal footing, and that they are there for each other. Also, so you can immediately come to the aid of the other person should they need assistance. It helps them better protect one another.”

“Brothers in arms.”

Cas turned to offer a hint of a smile. “Should we go back in and continue with the research?”

They did, Dean feeling more at peace than he had in a while. Sure, rsearch sucked, but he was glad to be back in the swing of things again, to be doing something that felt natural to him. Not to mention, he kept glancing over at his little brother, almost as if to make sure this wasn’t a dream, that Sam was really there. He wound up getting caught grinning like a maniac more than once, and what was he supposed to say? He was as excited as a kid on Christmas because his little brother was back? That he gave up the suburban family life to go back to hunting monsters in the night with an angel as his wingman? He felt free in a world where he’d once felt trapped.

Wow, he was screwed up. Maybe this was how Dorothy felt when she finally got back home. What she’d wanted all along had been the very thing she’d run away from.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

“What have we found so far?” asked, Dean, scrubbing a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. Everything was starting to blur together on the page and a headache was building in the back of his skull.

Picking up his coffee cup, Bobby faltered, frowning at it, then setting it back down with a sigh. “Did someone put on a fresh pot?” Sam rose and reached for the older man’s cup, moving off into the kitchen to fix them all fresh cups. “The only thing I’ve found so far that might account for Chuck’s whereabouts are where it talks in the Bible about the fate of prophets. Most die gruesomely.”

“Yeah except dying would have left behind evidence,” argued Dean. “A body. Blood splatters. Something.”

Bobby nodded. “Or in cases like Elijah’s, the prophet never died, was just spirited away.”

“So he just up and vanished, too?”

The springs in the couch creaked as Castiel shifted his weight, drawing Dean’s attention. “No. Elijah was honored for doing his duty and being a true man of God. He was taken directly to Heaven without having to die a physical death. Only when the time comes that he is to walk the earth once more will he die a physical death.”

Dean glanced at his friend, their eyes instantly meeting. “So is that where Chuck is then? Spirited away in Heaven?”

“If he were, the angels would know where he is, Dean,” the other man pointed out.

The brunette nodded. “Right. Right. Anything else?”

“Actually, I may have found something in the way of fortune tellers,” admitted Sam, carefully carrying three steaming mugs. “There’s a woman about five hundred miles from here that has made a reputation recently for telling people their fortune and it coming radically true: the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

“What do you mean ‘radically’ coming true?”

“Being told a good things are to come, have landed several people in the millionaires bracket. People she fortells of misfortune have done everything from go bankrupt to being a splatter on the front of a Mack track. It’s never just ‘okay, you’ll find a hundred bucks, it’s your lucky day’ it’s ‘you found a lottery ticket with the five million jackpot on it’ or ‘a shadow falls across your path’ ends in you as a chalk outline in a dark alley with only your dental records to ID you from.”

“How is she telling the fortunes?”

Settling back into his seat, Sam glanced back at his computer screen and frowned. “Anyway you could possibly want her to. Palm reading, tarot, tea leaves, crystal ball… she even throws bones if you want. Apparently, it’s hard to get an appointment with her. She tends to find her clients rather than the other way around.” He rolled his head around to look at his brother. “And get this: apparently, fate favors the just.”

Dean twisted to look back at Castiel again. “Could it be one of the three sisters of Fate handing out justice as they see fit?”

Sam snorted. “Dude. How do you know about the three sisters of fate?”

“I read it in a book,” he quipped back. “Not to mention, Fate’s a real bitch when she wants to be. Everyone knows that.”

Cas was shaking his head. “The sisters are efficient in their work. They do not randomly go around delivering people their fate, they have schedules and lists. They work in connection with Death and his subordinates. Whereas Death usually deals with an individual’s life coming to an end due to their choices and their health, Fate deals in circumstances around one’s life. The youngest sister is the one in charge of death, and she is very particular about rules and protocol, very much by the book.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean scoffed. “Yeah, I remember.” Sam and Cas both gave him confused looks. “From the, ah, book. She was real uptight, like a librarian.”

“My kind of librarian or yours?” his brother questioned, tilting his head, an amused smirk on his face. Dean was torn between wanting to swat at him playfully and pull him into another hug. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing Sammy again.

“Like a normal librarian, non-porn version. Young, though, no old lady smell.”

Cas shook his head. “It wouldn’t be any of them. Humans rarely ever see any of the sisters of fate, and like I said, they have a schedule to keep. They wouldn’t settle down in a single town and work like this, it’s not apart of the job or personalities.”

“You don’t think she’s actually a psychic, do you Dean?”

Dean scoffed. “Dude, only psychic I have ever met was Missouri. When a woman damn well knows you just cussed her out in your head, you better believe she’s got the mojo. Even still, Missouri only told you what was going on if that was really what you wanted to know, she’d lie if that was what you really wanted. This doesn’t sound like someone that just sees, this sounds more like someone who’s involved.”

“So probably not Chuck, then.”

“Probably not.”

“But we may still be able to learn something from them,” insisted his little brother. “Y’know, before we have to gank them.”

Nodding, Dean glanced at the clock on the wall. It read nearly a brand new day. “So, say we head out first thing in the morning?”

His brother shook his head. “Can we make it closer to ten?”

The hunter swept a brow up in surprise. “Why so late?”

Sam shook his head. “Morning physical therapy. Sarah comes over, we do stretches, exercises, and go for a bike ride. Plus, I have to let her know we’ll be gone so she can reschedule her work hours.”

Nodded, Dean rubbed a hand across his jaw. “So basically… it’s a date and you’re whipped.”

“They keep a strict exercise regimen,” interjected Cas. His blue eyes flicked to Sam; Dean almost thought he looked rather proud. “Sam is making amazing progress, but has to have an eye kept on him so that he doesn’t secretly exercise and overwork himself.” The angel allowed himself a smirk. “Again.”

Apparently Sam, in his impatience to get back to where he had been, had overworked himself several times, secretly exercising at night only to be unable to make it through training with Sarah the next morning, either a bike ride or a walk/jog. When Sasquatch would collapse, Sarah always called Cas to angel mojo him back to Bobby’s since she couldn’t very well get him there herself. The first time, she’d hailed a truck driver down and had him help her get Sam in the bed of the truck where she fussed at him the entire way to Bobby’s.

Then promptly changed his training so that it left him too exhausted in the evenings to do anything but sleep. She was a spitfire, Dean would give her that.

Though Dean wanted the chance to make his little brother squirm, Dean let him have his last morning with Sarah in peace, instead watching from the upstairs window as Sarah skillfully maneuvered her bike, standing to pedal across the grass rather than attempting to ride across the uneven gravel driveway.

Sam had already been out there for a hour doing stretches and tai chi. Dean always thought it was stupid, the people who did Tai Chi, but watching his brother do it was like witnessing something amazing. The subtle grace and elegance to it was mesmerizing, especially considering his extreme height and the length of his limbs, to have that much control and fluidity of movement was awe inspiring.

“I don’t want you to think we were cutting you loose, Dean,” stated Bobby softly, stepping up beside him. Dean stared out the window as Sam and Sarah got on their bikes and disappeared back the way she’d came. “It was nearly impossible for any one of us not to immediately call you. I don’t know who was worse: Cas or Sam. Cas was only that much worse when Sam did suddenly reappear, insisted you needed to know, that you didn’t deserve to think your brother was dead. I told him we needed to figure out why Sam was back and if Sam was really Sam. Then when he finally did wake up, he couldn’t bear for you to see him in a weakened state like that and begged Cas not to tell you or contact you.”

Wordlessly, Dean turned and made his way downstairs. There would be no going back to bed for him, so he might as well get breakfast going. Have it all ready when Sam got back.

Bobby followed after him. “Missing you nearly destroyed them both, Dean!” insisted Bobby harshly, glancing furtively over his shoulder to see if perhaps Cas was lurking in a corner. “I love Sam like my own son, but you’re the only flesh and blood he’s got left. John may have been his father, but you were the one that raised him for the most part. As much as he loves you, it killed him to let you think he was dead, but he worried you wouldn’t give your life with Lisa a real shot if you knew he was alive on top of the state he’d been left in.”

Clenching his teeth, Dean ignored the older man, moving about the kitchen with ease, pulling out eggs, milk, bacon, and various other ingredients from the fridge. He wondered if he should do the standard: eggs, bacon, and toast or if he should go all the way with omelets. Bobby had salsa, right?

Bobby kept on. “I didn’t know an angel could even get depressed until Cas was going through it. Boy didn’t know what to do with himself. Said he no longer had a place in Heaven and didn’t want to go back anyway. The one true friend he had we were making him stay away from and lie to through omission, he tried staying busy and about drove me and Sam both insane wanting to help for something to do. Said he could feel you, your grief, and it gutted him he couldn’t be there to share or lift the burden. It only got worse this past week, he was like a caged, paranoid animal, kept coming up with all these crazy scenarios of what could be wrong that you were so upset, but then, he didn’t want Sam to know because Sam’s recovering.”

Dean whirled on him, glaring. “Shut up, Bobby. I don’t want your reasons for why I was left in the dark. What you told yourself to make it better while I was left to grieve the loss of my entire family, after I was forced to deal with all the crazy shit we’ve been put through, dwell on every fight I ever had with Sam these past years, blaming myself for his death, that it was my own weakness that dragged him back into the hunter life, that it was my own weakness that shoved him at Ruby, the accumulation of so many moments and times that totaled up to me having failed to keep him safe which has been my whole purpose in life since the night my little brother was put in my arms and I ran from the house where my mother was burning on the ceiling.

“Not to mention what you put my boy Cas through. We are the only family he has now! His own family cast him out and we took him in, or don’t you remember? He gave up everything by choosing to place his faith in us! So not only was it reaffirmed he’d turned against his family, but Sam was dead and I ran blindly as far away from the life as I could. The only people on the entire planet he considered his friends, his allies, and he lost them both, one to self-sacrifice, the other to grief. All of this is as screwed up as the rest of our lives, and we’re all to blame in it being handled badly, but I don’t want your excuses, and don’t you damn well ever try to keep either of them away from me again or there will be hell to pay, are we clear?”

Swallowing thickly, the older hunter nodded, dropping his gaze and shoving his hands into his pockets. “We’re clear.”

------

They’d split up once they got to Chatom, after all, they didn’t have disguises for Castiel so he was working from someplace other, scanning the town for signs of demonic activity or spikes in power. Dean’s mental image was of Cas high in the sky like he was standing on a glass floor looking down on the world below, those blue eyes narrowed like a hawk’s as he diligently scanned for signs of trouble.

For their part, Dean and Sam had interviewed all the lucky clients that had not ended up a blood splatter or chalk outline on the sidewalk. Everyone seemed to agree: she found you, it was a girl, though younger than the Winchesters would have figured, and anything people received after she told them their fortunes was what they deserved. Honest and good people who were deserving of a break in life, that worked hard and did for others selflessly, they were the ones blessed by good fortune and the people that knew them couldn’t be happier for them because of how much they thought they truly deserved it.

Those who met gruesome fates were all people that most citizens thought the world was a better place without- or that after their passing, all their skeletons came out and people realized a monster had lived among them.

She was residing in a house at the edge of town with a magic door. If she invited you in, she could lead you into her house through any door at all. Invited guests never walked through the front door of the actual house, but other doors all over town. The grocery store, the police station, preschool entrance… they all led to her home if she wanted. If you walked through her front door on your own, you only found an empty house. Dean had never heard of a witch that could pull that off, but he and Sam both agreed it was probably just an illusion spell on the front door as a protective measure.

Regardless, they walked through the front door. Cautiously, as the door had been unlocked. Even more so when the house they walked in on was furnished. Dean glanced up at his brother, silently questioning. Sam nodded, yes, they had the right house.

Both of them were armed, but weapons concealed until they had to have them. They were here strictly for information not an actual hunt. The two brothers communicated silently back and forth for a moment, growing somewhat irritated as they disagreed on their next course of action. Dean thought they should proceed through the house, weapons at the ready because clearly something was going on. Sam wanted to announce their presence and try to talk to the woman first.

Their silent argument ended in Sam clearing his throat loudly, gaze sweeping over the house. “Uh, hello? Anybody home?” Dean’s glare was murderous. “The door was open.”

“Of course it was,” a voice agreed. They both snapped their gaze to a blonde woman standing by the entrance into the kitchen. She had her arms folded and head tilted, regarding them curiously. “I was expecting you.”

The brothers exchanged a look. The fingers on Dean’s hand twitched, itching to reach for his gun. Everything about this seemed off to him and he would have felt better with the familiar weight in his hands. Sam shot him a look, clearly seeing where Dean’s thoughts were going and trying to avoid such an action.

Smiling in a self-deprecating manner, Sam glanced down and then shyly at the girl across from them. “Uh, yeah, that’s what we hear. I-I mean, that you’ve got a gift for seeing things before they happen. It’s why we’re here.”

There was a slight smirk on her face, the corner of her mouth barely curving upward in amusement in a way she probably wasn’t even aware of. The smirk grew more obvious and Dean realized she was amused, at what, he had no idea, but he was increasingly ready to leave.

“What’s so important it’s brought the legendary Winchesters to my door?”

Both brothers stiffened. She wasn’t intimidating to look at, in fact, she was rather tiny. Petite, fair skinned, hazel eyes, and all of maybe just over five feet tall. They towered over her by comparison and to an outsider, it probably looked as though she ought to be the one uncomfortable.

“Don’t look so scared, boys. Come into my parlor.” She smiled closed-lipped.

“Said the spider to the fly,” muttered Sam under his breath even as they both ventured closer, standing awkwardly in the dining room, the living room to their backs.

Dean didn’t like standing there. Giving what he’d seen of the house, the rooms on the ground floor all connected, so someone could easily come up behind them through the living room from somewhere else in the house.

Now she did grin and Dean was struck with a sense of familiarity, glancing once at his brother. Sam didn’t look away from the blonde in front of them, but he was frowning in the way he did when trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together.

Her eyes flicked back and forth between them and she placed a finger to her lips, tapping it contemplatively. Her smoky eyes met with green. “Let me guess… you must be Dean.” Her gaze swiveled to the taller hunter. “Which makes you Sam.”

“And you are?”

How damn amused she looked made every nerve in Dean’s body tense and he found himself wanting to wipe that stupid grin right off her pretty face.

“Gabriella,” she said. “Gabbie, if you like.”

Narrowing his gaze, Dean wondered if that was really her name or just an alias, and why she seemed so damn familiar. They’d never hunted her before, he’d remember, but that didn’t mean their paths hadn’t crossed before.

“How can I help you crazy kids?”

“You’re the psychic,” said Dean, finding his voice. It came out gruffer than he meant. “Shouldn’t you know?”

Her gaze snapped to him, eyes narrowing while her wide grin never diminished. “It must really grate your nerves not to have a weapon in your hands, Dean, but the steady press of the gun against your back where it’s tucked in the waistband of your jeans must offer some measure of comfort, doesn’t it?” He clenched his teeth, aching more than ever to have a gun leveled on her. Her gaze swept back to his brother, gaze softening. “I can see why you have better luck with people and getting what you want out of them. Empathy trumps false charm any day of the week.” Her expression shifted, head angling again as she regarded him with genuine curiosity. “You don’t do it intentionally, though. Not always. It’s just a part of you, people are drawn to you, making them have a soft spot for you against their will, before they realize it. People love you effortlessly.”

Okay, so Missouri might not be the only real psychic Dean would ever meet. No sooner had the thought entered his mind then she grinned again, fixing him with her eyes.

“You have a very expressive face, Dean Winchester, despite your best efforts. I’d love to see you unable to mask it as well as you are now. Would love to make you squirm.”

Clicking his tongue, Dean shifted his weight and gave her a cocky grin. “Well, I’m all out of singles, but you’re more than welcome to try.”

“Dean,” hissed his younger brother, glaring furiously. Expression saying ‘are you fragging crazy?! Are you trying to get us killed? SHUT. UP.’ Little brothers were kill joys sometimes. “Please forgive my brother,” Sam said appeasingly, even though she didn’t look angry, just that same amused smirk like she knew so much more than she was telling, but she wasn’t letting them in on the secret, was just gonna let it bite them in the ass while she watched. “We actually came here because a friend of ours has gone missing. You were the closest shot in the dark we have.”

“If I could just find anyone, I’d have found my teacher already,” she said, gaze sweeping over to Sam. “I don’t think I can help, but if I do, what’s in it for me?”

“Beg pardon?”

“I don’t do things just because I’m nice, you know,” she said. “I get something out of it.”

“What did you get from the people you made millionaires or the ones that had to be identified by their dental records?” demanded Dean, jaw set.

She had the audacity to grin. “Are you here to make me stop? Tell me I’m a bad person? However will I sleep at night?” She winked at him. “I get a sense of accomplishment, if you must know. This, though? Wasn’t my idea to begin with. You would have to compensate me somehow were I to help, though I don’t think I will.”

“Oh, I’ll compensate you alright,” growled the elder Winchester. Sam swatted at him furiously.

She pointed at him. “See? That right there is why your brother is the favorite and off-limits for screwing with.” Anyone else, he would have thought they were mad, they would have been, but she was grinning like they were joking back and forth good-naturedly. He wanted to punch her, if only so she would start making sense.

Sam tried again to shift the focus so his brother couldn’t get them into trouble. “Why wouldn’t you help us?”

Her gaze flicked to him and she shook her head. “What makes you think I have any idea where your friend is? As your brother pointed out, making things happen is my gift. Granted, not to say I couldn’t tell you where he is, but that would take a lot of effort on my part.”

“What would be the cost for your help?”

“Sam!”

“It’s very important we find our friend, and frankly, he doesn’t have anyone else,” admitted the taller male, “so if we don’t find him, no one else is even going to look. We need your help.”

She watched him for a moment, that same contemplative expression on her face as she regarded him. She was enjoying riling Dean, but it was like she really did already have a soft spot for Sam and treated him with more seriousness. Why was that so familiar?

She frowned at Sam, folding her arms and shifting her weight to her back foot. “I don’t go around helping people, Sam, it’s not my job. My job is to throw people’s lives on their ear, to hand out justice, make people reconsider their choices… and to have a helluva lotta fun while I’m at it.”

“The people you killed?” interjected Dean. “That was fun for you?”

Her gaze drifted to him and the answer to where he knew her from was practically on the tip of his tongue. “They had it coming and the world’s a better place.” Her face lit up. “I deserve a medal.” She sobered as her gaze met Sam’s again. Sucking in a deep breath, she sighed, deflating. “Okay, I’ll help you. Just this once. Dad would smack me for this if he could.” She muttered something under her breath, shaking his head in disgust. When she froze, eyes widening, Dean tensed. A Cheshire grin stretched slowly across her face as she lifted her face to regard them. “Oh this is gonna be SO much fun. I will help you, after the debt for my services is paid and if you can find me again.”

She snapped her fingers and the house began to tremble violently. Things shuddered off their shelves and crashed to the ground. Plaster cracked and fell from the ceiling. The brothers looked around frantically, trying to steady themselves as the earth shook violently beneath them.

“You’re off limits to screw with, Sam Winchester, like I said,” she said, still grinning. Her gaze switched to Dean’s, and she splayed out a hand toward him. “His is not, though.”

It was like a bomb went off. Both brothers went flying through the air, Dean crashing through a bookcase partition and landing hard in the living room amidst broken wood and plaster where half the ceiling had already fallen in. He lay unconscious in the rubble as the house continued to shake and his brother struggled to maintain his footing in order to get to him. The floorboards swelled and fell like the rolling sea beneath his feet, the house falling down around his ears, support beams crashed down through the ceiling. One landed dangerously close to the crumpled and plaster covered form of Sam’s brother, partially hidden by the debris now.

Gabbie had vanished, laughing even. Sam swore violently under his breath, arms over his head and wood and plastered fell.

“Dean!” he yelled, finally close enough to start shoving away the debris covering his brother. The sight of his brother stopped him short, all air leaving his body. With an ear deafening noise, a crack ripped down the middle of the house, prompting Sam to action again, dropping down to lift Dean’s dead weight. Half the roof caved in and Sam barely rolled them out of harms way, coughing and choking, while shielding his brother’s body from more falling structure. “Cas!” he croaked. “Cas! Get us out of here!”

Several second felt like minutes; Sam tried to shove away the debris around him and lift his brother again, relief flooding over him as black shoes stepped into view. His head angled up to see the angel just as two fingers pressed against his temple.

Then suddenly, they were outside, soft grass under Sam’s hands. He rolled away from his brother, coughing harshly and trying desperately to get a good breath of air. White dust fell from his hair and made his eyes water.

“Jesus!” He coughed, looking up and around. They were in the lot next to the now destroyed house, the shattered frame jutting out like a ruptured rib case. Gabbie was no where in sight. “She nearly killed us!” He snapped his attention back to his brother, noting the way Cas just stood over him, shocked and alarmed, unable to move.

Cupping Dean’s face in his hands, Sam quickly glanced him over for injuries. The only real damage seemed to be to his suit, the sleeve ripped at the seam on one side. Fighting to remain focused, Sam felt his brother’s pulse, relieved to find it beating strong beneath his fingers. Gentle fingers delved into Dean’s hair, cradling his head and checking for a knot or gash. He had to have hit his head pretty hard, it was why he was still out. There was one, but nothing serious, nothing that Sam thought should have left him out cold like this.

“Sam,” Cas said softly.

The hunter sat back, frowning at the image in front of him at a loss. “Yeah?”

“What happened?’ Sam could only shake his head. “Why is he like this?”

‘This’ was something even Sam would have never believed had he not seen it for himself. They’d seen a lot of weird crap in their lives, and sure, this wasn’t as bad as some of the other crazy crap they’d been through, but…

Snorting, he shook his head in disbelief again. Dean was going to be furious. Bobby, too, probably when he found out.

“Sam?” He turned, angling his head to look up at the distressed angel. He knew Cas was hoping Sam would have some sort of explanation for the current situation, but hell if he knew what happened and he’d been there.

Pushing himself to a crouch, Sam knelt by Dean’s side, scooping him into his arms with far more ease than normal and standing. It was surreal, really.

“We have to get out of here,” he told Castiel, trying to snap the angel out of his shock. Blue eyes riveted to his. “Before cops and firefighters show up.”

The raven haired man nodded, glancing back once at the ruined structure before his gaze drifted back to the unconscious form in Sam’s arms.

“He’s a girl.”

The words made Sam flinch, but he nodded, glancing down at his brother. Rich brown hair fell thickly, coated in the same white dust that covered them both, his suit now swallowing him awkwardly like the clothes belonged to someone else. He even looked younger, giving him a sense of fragility Sam knew Dean would not appreciate in the least.

Exhaustion swept through him, and he sighed heavily. “I know. We’ll figure out a way to fix it. We have to get him back to Bobby’s.” He shifted his gaze past the angel to the Impala still parked at the curb. “Bright side is that at least his car is safe. Let’s count our blessings on this one.”

He got Dean settled in the back seat, laid out with his jacket folded carefully under his head like a pillow. Dean never roused while he was carried and maneuvered. Twisted around in the passenger seat, Cas looked on with a worried expression.

“I should have gone with you,” he said as Sam got in the driver’s seat. “Perhaps I could have prevented this. This is my fault.”

Cranking the car, Sam shot him a look. “This is not your fault, Cas. Hell, I was there and it wasn’t my fault. It was that-that Gabriella’s fault!” He glanced back at his brother’s sleeping form, before shifting his gaze out the windsheild with a shake of his head as they pulled out into the rode. “This is freaking insane. Even for us.” He sighed, adjusting the rear view mirror so he could keep an eye on his brother. “Well. He wanted back into the hunter life. Welcome home, Dean.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

While waiting for Dean to regain consciousness, Sam had run numerous scenarios through his head as to how his brother would react when realizing his current condition. Bobby had opened the door to the house to see Sam standing their holding the limp female wearing Dean’s clothes and had swore as the air seemed to leave his body. Both Sam and Castiel could only offer sheepish expressions as they came into the house. Luckily, Crowley wasn’t there. Dean would kill Sam if the demon was allowed to see the hunter in such a state.

He’d expected anger and outrage, an all out fit like only Dean could throw. Granted, Dean did get mad, but he quickly accepted that nothing could be done about the condition until they could find Gabbie and have her lift the curse, as apparently, that was her payment. Given the style of the curse and the fact that Dean had been the target while Sam was spared had even made both brothers suspect Gabriel was behind the attack, having once again faked his death. Cas had assured them that it was not Gabriel, that the angel no longer existed. He'd never tell Dean, but Sam was a little disappointed learning that. Gabriel they at least kinda knew, and knew he would eventually give in and return his brother to his true form, instead, they were dealing with a wild card. Joy.

Learning all this, Dean’s anger had sort of died out and he’d stood in the center of Bobby’s study- sleeves rolled up so he could at least see his own hands, his clothes absolutely swallowing his petite frame- arms folded as he frowned at the carpet beneath his feet. Reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear with slim fingers, he’d faltered, frowning in confusion at his hand as though it had acted on its own.

Now that he’d accepted the curse, Dean was unable to look at any of them, keeping his head ducked, part of his long hair spilling over his shoulder. Snorting, he turned and moved to leave, pausing to look down at his feet as he stumbled. Pointedly, he reached down to pull his pant legs up and easily stepped right out of his shoes, shaking his head and walking from the room. The three of them watched until he disappeared at the top of the stairs.

“He just needs some time to get his head around it,” said Sam, not sure if he was assuring the other men or himself. “It’s only temporary. We’ll fix this.”

Cas fixed him with a serious look. “We need to find Gabriella. Did she say where she was going?”

The taller man shook his head, sinking down into the couch and pinching the bridge of his nose. Dean’s resignation was too much like defeat for Sam’s liking and it made guilt gnaw at him, more so because he knew of no way to help his brother.

“We do have a more immediate concern given Dean’s current condition,” admitted Bobby, coughing lightly. Sam and Cas both looked up curiously. “Boy needs clothes.” Groaning in defeat, Sam cradled his head in his hands. He hadn’t even thought of that. “Nothing we have is going to remotely fit him. His own clothes looked like he was wearing a circus tent.”

“Crap, Bobby, I didn’t even- what are we supposed to do?” He shook his head. “I mean, I guess I could take him shopping, but…” he scratched irritantly at the back of his scalp, rubbing his hand over his jaw and scoffing at the ridiculousness of their lives. “He looks like my little sister now. We are gonna draw some serious attention with neither one of us having a clue what we’re doing yet trying to find him clothes… and under stuff. It’s gonna look creepy.”

Agreeing, Bobby nodded. Leaning back in his chair, he reached up to adjust his cap thoughtfully. “Well… I might could call Jodie. See if she can pick him up some things or something.”

Pursing his lips, Sam gave a shake of his head. “Mm. I’m not sure Jodie’s the best person for the job. It would probably embarrass Dean.” An idea dawned and he stood. “But Sarah might work. She’s younger, they would look like sisters out on a shopping trip or something. She wouldn’t make him talk if he doesn’t want to, and she would get the job done.”

Upstairs, he paused at the door to Dean’s room, watching as his brother sat listlessly in the center of his bed wearing a rock tee and boxer shorts. Dean wore his scowl of concentration, the serious expression somewhat ruined by the way his full lips pouted out unconsciously in thought.

“Hey,” greeted Sam. Big green eyes trimmed in thick dark lashes swiveled over to him, head angling in question. “Look, we were talking. If this is what Gabbie meant by ‘payment’, then all that’s left is to find her again, get her to reverse it, and then tell us where Chuck is.”

“Then I gank the bitch.” Dean’s voice had a much softer tone as a girl, not nearly so gruff, but not girly either. Small favors.

Sam smiled at him. “Then we’ll gank the bitch. Meanwhile, she’s not going to be easy to find, it’s probably going to take a few days.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“In which case, we may have to hunt down leads in the process…”

Realization dawned in his brother’s eyes and he gave a nod. “And I’ll need clothes.” Sighing he pushed himself off the bed, bare feet meeting hardwood silently. “Okay. Let’s just go by a second hand store then, find something to fit.”

His little brother shook his head. No way was he going to put his brother through that, trying to find clothes that fit his new form in ill-fitting, stretched out, drier shrunk, and ten years out-of-fashion clothing. Dean was clearly already very uncomfortable in this small form, Sam wasn’t going to make it worse.

“Actually…” When Dean met his gaze, Sam was forced to look down. He couldn’t stand feeling his brother was like this when he’d been right there and should have been able to do something to help. “I thought I would call Sarah.”

Dean blinked with a start, opening his mouth to argue, then faltered, considering. Sam waited. After a moment, Dean nodded his consent. “Yeah, alright. But Bobby and Cas gotta clear out ‘fore she gets here.”

Sam cocked his head to the side, confused. “Why?”

Making an angry sound, Dean pivoted to fully face his brother, splaying his hands out. “Because I look absurd! I wanna look like me again, not like some chick wearing my clothes, man! This shirt comes almost to my knees! I’m weak in this body, and if I can’t fix that yet, I want to at least look like a functioning human being capable of properly dressing themselves! Make the damn call!”

Regardless of how much his brother argued with him, Sam insisted on staying with Dean until Sarah showed up, if only so he could personally thank her for instantly coming when they called. She was adjusting the strap of the back pack she wore as he opened the door, smiling at him then letting her gaze shift inquiringly as she stepped across the threshold.

“Thanks for coming.”

She nodded, sliding the bag off and setting against the wall. “No worries.” Her gaze landed on where the elder Winchester stood leaning back against the doorframe, arms folded tightly, a self-defensive posture. “Hey Dean.” He nodded, pushing away from the wall. Sarah’s green eyes flicked to the man beside her. “Beat it, Sam. Three’s a crowd on this one.”

Chuckling, Sam held up his hands and did as told; exiting through the kitchen to go see what Bobby had gotten up to.

As soon as he was gone, Sarah gave Dean a soft smile. “You look miserable.” Dean couldn’t bring himself to look at her, the tightening of his throat and tell-tale prick behind his eyes infuriating him as he bobbed his head soundlessly. She made a sound, something soft, and stepped forward to embrace him comfortingly, a hand rubbing his back as he immediately hugged her back to his surprise, feeling an overwhelming sense that this was something he’d been wanting without realizing it. “It’ll be okay. You’ll get through this,” she crooned softly. To his shame, Dean sniffed wetly and nodded silently again.

Separating, she kept a hand on his shoulder while he turned his head away, trying to discreetly run a knuckle under his eyes. “Lesson number one as a girl?” He regarded her curiously to find her smiling at him, understanding on her face. “Our emotions are directly hotwired to our tear ducts, some more so than others. Anger and frustration are more likely to cause tears than being sad ever would, and that goes for anyone. Anger, happiness, and sadness all cause girls to cry, it’s just the way we’re built, we don’t do it intentionally. Get use to it and you’ll have an easier time.”

It made sense. He wasn’t sad so much as frustrated and angry, like she said, and then her hugging him had brought a wash of relief like he didn’t know how to describe, tears instantly welling up in his eyes.

She gave a sharp nod, then stepped back to let her eyes sweep over him, assessing. Wordlessly, she reached out to grip his shirt under his arms, causing it to put tight across his chest, then immediately released him, turning to retrieve her bag.

She held it out to him. “Jogging suit, socks, shoes, panties, and two different bras. One regular, one sports. Take your pick.” When he took the bag, she maneuvered him around and shoved him toward the downstairs bathroom. “Go get changed.”

Later, she gave him a satisfied nod when he’d glanced at her uncertainly, tugging at the hem of his shirt self-consciously. Digging a hair brush and a ponytail holder out of one of the bag’s pockets, she turned him around again and made quick work of running the brush through his long hair and then sweeping it up into a loose, off center pony tail so that it fell over his shoulder. She even took a lock of hair and wrapped it around the elastic band, securing it with a bobby pin.

Her shoes were actually too big on his feet, but he didn’t say anything. They were a size eight, pretty normal. He just had tiny feet now. He hated it.

He didn’t say anything to her again until they were shopping for clothes. Sarah was the only one doing any real shopping, Dean idly pushed clothes around on the racks not knowing what in God’s name he was doing or what he was looking for. Sarah did, though, and he let her work, watching as she occasionally held something out toward him like she were visualizing it on him, then she’d either add it to the clothes in the buggy or discard it.

“How did you know your clothes would fit me?” questioned Dean, glancing at her across the rack.

She pulled another shirt out and added it to the growing pile. “I took what you looked like as a guy, your build and proportion in comparison to other men, then I just pictured you in the exact same equivalent as a girl. That would make you my size or thereabout.”

“Or thereabout,” grumbled the hunter. Her clothes were a little too big, a little too long, and that wasn’t saying anything at all against Sarah’s size or shape. She had a cute, fit body. Dean was just smaller, like he was her little sister, forget he was older than she was. He hated it.

Smiling reassuringly, she grabbed one last shirt and maneuvered them over to the dressing room. Whenever Dean had wanted an insider’s look in the ladies’ dressing room, this was not what he’d had in mind.

God love Sarah, though, because the clothes she picked out she’d done taking his previous wardrobe and personality into account. It was the same except for girls. T-shirts were traded for camisoles and paired with plaid shirts that followed the curves of his new body. At one point, he looked in the mirror and realized it looked as though he’d raided Jo’s closet. The thought made him sick for different reasons. One which wasn’t directly related to his current problem, just that were she still alive, it would probably be her or Ellen helping him shop for clothes for until they found a cure, that or either Jo would just loan him some of hers.

He would admit he looked cute, like what he imagined his and Sam’s little sister would look like if they had one, reminding him that their mother had wanted a daughter and never got the chance. Look at me now, he thought sourly. He’d left a life in suburbia with Lisa and Ben for this?

When they got back to Bobby’s, bags in hand, both he and Sarah stopped as all three men stopped what they were doing to look up.

“Stop staring,” barked Dean, except it didn’t sound gruff and harsh like he wanted. It didn’t sound like a growl, in fact, was a pitch higher than his new speaking voice. Angry he turned to take his bags upstairs, hearing Sarah behind him.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook from our work out, Sam Winchester. Your butt is mine now, why aren’t you dressed? I don’t have all day.”

Despite the past twenty-four hours, Dean allowed himself a smirk. Yep, Sammy definitely needed to marry that girl.

He blinked in surprise when he turned the corner into the room he was using to see Cas standing in the corner.

“You could have just walked up the stairs after me,” he groused, setting the bags on the bed and pulling each item out to rip the tags off of so he could wash them. He’d wait till Cas left before he started in on the undergarments. It would be too bizarre on top of mortifying.

The angel dared venture a step forward. “Dean. I wanted to apologize.”

“Saw that coming.”

“As your parabatai, I should have been with you. The way it is, I didn’t even attempt to protect you. I failed you and I’m sorry.”

Arching a brow, Dean glanced at him, actually smirking in amusement at the angel’s distress. “Dude. You can’t be with me every minute of every day. It would get awkward. Not to mention- wait. You called me parabatai?”

“It means-“

“I know what it means. Latin for ‘brothers in arms, a pair of warriors with an incomparable bond, closer than brothers’.” He turned to face the angel. “That’s the sigil you put on me? Marked me as your parabatai?”

Glancing away, Cas gave a shrug, such a human response it made the hunter smile. “That is the closest word in the human language for it, but even still does not fully cover the layers of meaning. Most of the meaning cannot be vocalized. Saying parabatai is better than simply calling you mine because there is no word to be used.” He shook his head, snapping those blue eyes back to where Dean stood wearing the new clothes Sarah had bought for him, jeans and green plaid shirt over a white lace camisole. “I should have been with you.”

Dean rolled his eyes and returned back to removing clothes and popping tags. “Don’t be dumb, Cas. Sam was there and it still happened and it wasn’t his fault either. I’m not hurt, just inconvenienced, so it’s not a tragedy, yet. You can’t blame yourself for everything that ever happens to me, that’s a ridiculous self-expectation. We’re cool.”

“But-“

“Dude.” He turned his head to glare at the angel. “We’re cool. Drop it.”

The other man nodded, moving to leave. Though Dean’s back was to him, in his mind’s eye he could see Cas falter even as he heard the pause in step, saw the way Cas looked at him, mouth opened like he wanted to say something else, then shut it and raised a hand, letting it hover indecisively over Dean’s shoulder. Dean couldn’t see him, but he knew the mental image was taking place regardless.

“You can,” he said softly just as the angel’s hand began to fall away. The other man blinked with a start, realization dawning. He placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before moving away and walking from the room. To his surprise, Dean missed the touch the moment it was gone, the heat and comfort of it searing through him, and leaving him cold in its absence.

The realization made him blush furiously, causing him to hate his female body more than ever. It was too damn responsive.

----

As a gag gift, Sarah had shown up a few days later with a bag full of black and white comic volumes for Dean. Something she called ‘manga’. They all looked like the same title, just various volumes. She’d grinned and winked at him, saying she thought he’d be able to appreciate the story more than most and it might give him a few ideas how to use his female body to his advantage.

Dean could totally sympathize with Ranma Saotome. At least Dean’s life had been crazy enough that genderswitching wasn’t the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him. Reading the manga had addressed several issues Dean had already noticed for himself with some disdain. Like his arms and legs were shorter. It almost felt like something was wrong with his depth perception; he’d swatted at Sammy in annoyance one morning, but the only thing that happened was that the tips of Dean’s nails barely brushed the hunter’s arm, forget actually making contact.

He knew they noticed. He knew they noticed every time he had to climb on the counters to get something out of the cabinets or had to stand on a stack of books to get a book of the top shelf. One of them offered to help when Dean couldn’t get the lid off a jar in the fridge, earning them a furious glare for what he saw as practical blasphemy. Being a girl didn’t take away his male pride. Girls were raised that if they couldn’t do something, they could hand it off without it being thought twice of. Dean didn’t know how to do that and would be damned before he’d allow himself to.

Every time one of them offered to help him all they got for their efforts was a glare and furious snarl.

They’d stopped staring at him for the most part, having gotten use to his new appearance, but that didn’t mean any of his sudden self-awareness and self-conscious insecurity had diminished. Which was stupid. Dean Winchester was not insecure. Except for in this body. Maybe because he knew they had every reason to stare: he was a guy in a girl body for starters. Second, the body was so unfamiliar to him; he couldn’t maneuver it like he did in his old body, had to learn how to make this body move and do the way he wanted it to. And his depth perception was all off. He would think he was either closer to something and miss it completely or the opposite would happen and he’d end up tripping horribly.

Just when he was beginning to relax into this new body he was currently stuck with, he ended up embarrassing himself by tripping on the edge of the rug, the only thing keeping him from landing hard on the floor was Cas’ firm arm catching him around the waist, then righting him again.

Sam had tried to tease him about it, called him clumsy and blonde. Furious, Dean had pointed at his brother, opening his mouth to let the verbal whiplash fly… and stopped. He could feel himself trembling with anger and humiliation, his eyes pricking with tears, reminding him of what Sarah had said that first day about emotions being hotwired to his tear ducts and that he would have to relearn to control it and never would fully be able to. To make it even worse, he was hyperly aware of the heat rolling off Cas’ body, the solid presence by his side, not quite touching him. The hint of cologne that never faded.

Clamping his mouth shut, Dean straighten, swallowing thickly and trying desperately to get all the rage and frustration and disappointment and aggravation under control before he burst into tears. Apparently, it showed on his face, because Sam’s face shifted like Dean had punched him in the stomach. Whirling, Dean turned and stormed off, fighting to not break into a run and actually flee until after he’d gotten outside.

To his credit, he didn’t start to cry until after he’d made it to the warehouse and slammed the door shut behind him, backing away from it like he was expecting it to be ripped open at any moment. When no one followed him and the silence settled in heavily around him, his wall became to splitter and crumbled. His mounting frustration and anger bubbled over in a sob as he sunk to the dirt floor, one hand finding purchase in his hair, the other covering his mouth as if to hold back to tears.

This was not what he’d wanted. Yes, he’d wanted back into the hunter life, back into the crazy, violent, unpredictable world that would probably land him in an early grave, yet he called it home. He did not, however, want to do it trapped in this body. He didn’t want to have others having to protect him, dammit. It was his job to look after Sam, was one of the few things he did with great pride.

He wanted to help, to do his job, he wanted to be a valuable part of the team, not a liability or a distraction. He didn’t want them worried about him, regardless of the fact he was worried about them. In Dean’s mind, that was his calling, his purpose, all roads leading to the same place. How could he protect those he cared about and loved more than anything else when he couldn’t even safely walk across the room under his own power or throw a punch at his brother and make purchase?

“This is so frustrating!” he raged, slamming his fists down on the compact dirt as the last of his tears subsided, exhaustion sweeping in to take its place.

Dude, never again would he hold it against a girl that she was moody. They damn well couldn’t freaking help it. He felt like he had MPD or like somebody else was calling the shots on his body besides him, because this constant insecurity was the worst. It was miserable feeling like everyone was always watching you, putting on a fake smile that everything would be alright when damn well knew yourself that if the problem didn’t get fixed you were seriously humped.

It was part of the reason he couldn’t meet Castiel’s gaze. Probably the reason Cas couldn’t seem to meet his either. The angel had put his faith in Dean- The Righteous Man, the man that would defy Heaven and Hell and march out on his own to protect the planet and the right to free will, the man that held his own in a fight against any manner of creature that walked or haunted the earth. It felt like he’d let him down by having gotten himself into this mess.

It gave him a new appreciation for how Bobby must have felt when he was suddenly restricted to a chair.

Dean just didn’t know how he was suppose to do the one thing he knew he was good at, the one thing he felt called to do, if other people were going to have to constantly be looking out for him instead. It wasn’t misogynistic, it was basic biology. Girls were smaller, more fragile, and lacked the physical strength of a man. That put him on the back seat as a bench warmer. Dean Winchester was no fraggin bench warmer.

The side door opened softly, Sam stepping into the warehouse and shutting it behind him. “Dean?”

Refusing to look up- he knew he probably had tear tracks all down his face- Dean idly doodled sigils in the dirt with his finger. “Go away, Sam.” His voice sounded flat and tired. Weary.

“No.” The elder brother scoffed, not the least bit surprised, but wishing for once Sam would not do the helpful thing in this instance. Instead, the towering male lowered himself into a sitting position in front of his brother. “Look, I get this is hard on you-“

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Sam.”

“And I can understand that you are frustrated-“

“Drop it, Sammy.”

“But this is temporary, Dean. We’ll find a way to fix it-“

Dean launched himself forward, catching them both off guard, and end up pining his little brother to the ground and straddling him. “Shut. Up.” He heard the threat of tears in his own voice again and rebelled wildly against it, lashing out verbally instead. “You think you understand? You think you know about frustration? I feel like I am losing my mind in this body, Sam! I have no control over my emotions, my moods, or hell, even my own body! I feel like everyone is judging me for having gotten myself in this mess, that they’re thinking of all the ways I’ll bring the team down, give us a weak spot, put us at a disadvantage! That’s the people that love me! What about the people that want me dead, because they are no shortage in number, let me tell you! I feel like the target sign on all of us just got that much bigger and I can’t do my job as your brother and protect you like this! Cas made me his parabatai, but how am I suppose to watch his back when even a damn area rug sends me sprawling? What if I’m stuck like this? What if we can’t find Gabriella; she’s not exactly going to want to be found. What then? I live like this from now on?” He jerked Sam forward by his shirt and slammed him back down, practically shouting now. “Now tell me you know about my frustration!”

Soft sobs escaped Dean and he covered his face with his hands in shame. “And Sarah was right,” he sniffed, voice muffled. “Being pissed off is hotwired to my eyes and I can’t control it. Girls aren’t crazy; they just can’t help it.”

“Dean…”

“No!” snapped Dean, lowering his hands to glare furiously at his brother. Tears hung thickly on the ends of his lashes. “Do not take that tone of voice with me! Don’t you dare! I am not a chick, dude, don’t you dare treat me like one or I will stick my size six shoes so far up your ass you choke on them!”

Chuckling lightly even in the face of his brother’s anger, Sam smirked, honest eyes locking with his brother’s. “Dude. I’m not treating you like a chick. I’m treating you like my brother. My brother who is backed into a corner and seriously freaking out about it. Now get off of me and let’s talk.”

Removing himself from his sibling, Dean scuttled backward into his previous spot, sitting with his legs drawn up and elbows resting on his knees, fingers hanging and interlaced. “Talk, then.”

The taller male pushed himself back up into a sitting position with a sigh, folding his legs as he regarded his brother.

“I don’t know how to fight against you, either,” he said finally. The other hunter blinked in surprise. “Think about it, Dean. We’ve never had to fight against girls before and the two that we did kicked our asses embarrassingly fast. We both stood toe to toe with the Devil and never backed down, but a single look from Ellen Harvelle could have us back up into a wall stammering. We underestimate girls because of their gender and because there aren’t very many female hunters, but you and I both know Jo could have kicked our asses any day of the week had she chosen to.”

Snorting, Dean nodded with a fond smile, thinking of the first time he’d met the blonde. Good times.

Sam continued, head angled to the side as he regarded his brother, “I figure it’s like me having to relearn to use my body all over again; you’ll have to relearn yours for the time you’re stuck like this. You can start by training with me every day and doing Tai Chi to learn control, then we’ll move up to sparring. This body is smaller and with your reflexes, probably inhumanly fast. I can’t hurt you if I can’t even hit you, now can I? And I can’t keep you from taking me out if I can’t even get ahold of you. It’s just about adjusting your game plan to the cards in your hand, Dean, but we’ll get through this and it will be okay, I promise.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Dean finally consented, dropping his gaze to nod in agreement. “Yeah, okay.”

Sam nodded. “Good. So we’ll start in the morning, then.” Dean nodded. His little brother glanced around before his face twisted into confusion and he regarded Dean again. “Cas made you his parabatai?”

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

“So are you and Cas, like, married now?” questioned Sam as he and Dean helped each other with their morning stretches.

Dean’s head snapped up sharply, almost bent completely in half as Sam pulled his arms forward, the bottoms of their feet pressed together.

“What?” Sam continued to pull, making Dean wince as all the muscles in his thighs protested. “Ow, ow, ow! Uncle! Easy up, Sammy! I’m shorter now! You keep forgetting.”

The younger Winchester immediately eased up. “Well are you?”

Dean glared at him again. “Dude, where do you come up with off the wall questions like that? Why in God’s name would we be married?”

Sam shrugged as Dean straightened and they shifted their grips so that now Dean was pulling him forward. “He made you his parabatai. That’s a big freaking deal.”

Pursing his lips, Dean considered this a moment then shook his head. “I think you’re over thinking this. He did it because it made sense, because he needed to be able to find us since we’re shielded from all angels. Cas isn’t sentimental like that; to him it was probably just a logical solution.” He snorted. “We’re not married.”

“I’d be okay with it if you were, you know.” Dean arched a brow at him. “Seriously. As long as you are happy, man, I am happy for you.”

Releasing him, Dean pulled his knees up, planting his feet on the ground, and easily rose to his feet, then offered a hand out to Sam.

“While you’re so busy trying to get me hitched to the nearest person that’ll have me, I would remind you I just got out of a relationship, dude.”

“Under mutual agreement because neither of you was actually in love with the other, so it’s not like you would be rebounding or anything.” They took their respective positions and began their Tai Chi session, movements mirroring each other’s.

“Are you still talking about Cas or a relationship in general?”

“Cas.”

Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes. Yes, he’d read the books, and granted, it had helped shed new light on how his and Cas’ interactions probably looked from an outsider’s perspective, the staring for awkwardly long moments of time Dean never realized they did, the invasion of personal space he didn’t notice anymore, the way they always seem to look at one another when the other person wasn’t looking, usually within seconds of each other.

Yes, he and Cas were close, yes, he would have done anything for him, and knew Cas would do anything for him, and maybe there were moments that happened that neither one of them acknowledged or talked about, like glances when their eyes did meet, faintest brush of contact, the way sometimes certain looks of Cas’ or from him made Dean… feel things.

But, seriously. Cas was an angel. He probably had no idea he did anything that might affect Dean, and certainly wasn’t doing it intentionally.

“Nothing’s going on with us romantically, dude,” snapped Dean, suddenly irritated. A scowl marred his face. “In fact, I think I’ve disappointed him.”

They stepped in sync, slow exaggerated movements that required a lot of concentration and balance to do with control. Sam had been right, this was working wonders for Dean in getting use to controlling his new body.

“How’s that?”

“He can barely look at me lately. I think he’s avoiding me.” His expression fell. “I think it’s because of this curse. I let him down getting myself stuck like this.”

Making a considering thought, Sam clicked his teeth. “Nah. I don’t think that’s it. Bobby and I noticed. Thought ya’ll had a fight. You can’t meet his gaze either, dude.”

Though he knew what Sam was talking about, Dean didn’t say anything. Things had been awkward between him and Cas, and Dean wasn’t entirely sure why. Part of the reason was him, he knew, the insecurity he felt in this new, smaller, frailer body, like he no longer measured up to his former self and was therefore a disappointment to those who depended on him. People who relied on him. He felt he had let them down, so surely they must feel, at least in some small part, that he had as well.

The other part was that Dean’s body was a lot more responsive to Cas like this. Things he normally could have forced down, compartmentalized, ignored, or played off were right there on his sleeve for everyone to see it felt like. Last thing he wanted was for the angel to realize he was the cause, because God help him, that was a conversation he did not think he could have. Ever.

“Well, either way, you need to get whatever the problem is out in the air, because seriously.” Dean glanced at him. Yep, that was Sammy. Everything had to be talked about and discussed. It didn’t annoy him as much as it use to. After living with Lisa and then after having read all the self help books he had in trying to force himself to cope with the loss of everything he held dear, go figure, little brother was actually right about talking helped. Not that he’d ever admit that to Sam, of course. “You might as well do it while we’re gone. Bobby’s going into town to restock supplies and groceries. Sarah and I will be gone a little while on our jog.” Sam gave him a pointed look, smirking. “I fully expect breakfast to be ready for all of us by the time we get back. Cas can help.”

This time Dean did scoff. “Dude, only you would make an angel do something like menial labor. Really? Cas? Cook?”

“As opposed to what? Standing around? Researching? He’s not exactly welcome in Heaven anymore and it’s not like he has other places to be on the planet. Guy must be bored out of his mind, Dean, and he’s not going to just ask if he can help- it’s not in his nature. At the very least, offer it to him, but let him know he can say ‘no’.” He paused. “And give Becky a call, too. She’s had time to get everything settled at Chuck’s.”

----

Apron tied around his waist, Dean swept his hair back into a pony tail, changed his mind, and quickly bound it up in a messy bun, then turned around and pinned his bangs out of his face with bobby pins the way Sarah had taught him. He thought about calling Cas, and would, because he knew if he didn’t, he’d still have to answer to Sam about it and then Sam would definitely be unable to not get himself involved at that point.

But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t put it off a little bit. He flicked out his phone, dialing Becky then switching over to speaker phone and setting it on the counter as he rummaged through the fridge.

“I was beginning to wonder when you were going to call, Dean.”

“Wanted to give you time to get everything sorted first before I started bugging you,” he told her, setting the carton of eggs out. There was a pregnant pause from the phone, so much so that he glanced at the screen to make sure the call hadn’t been disconnected. “Becky?”

“Dean?” She sounded as though she weren’t sure she’d answered the right person.

“Oh. Right. We had some trouble with a witch or something,” he explained. “She turned me into a girl temporarily as payment for helping us find Chuck. I did not get a sex change.”

“Well, you did, just not in the conventional way, but you wouldn’t be a Winchester if you ever did anything the normal way. So you met Gabbie, then?”

Fumbling with the milk carton, Dean did a double take at the phone. “How do you know about Gabbie?”

She made a sound and Dean was pretty sure she was rolling her eyes. “She was in Chuck’s notes, obviously. He wasn’t well organized at all, let me tell you, just notes jotted down on pieces of papers, I had to go back, find them all, then put them together in some sort of order. Do you want the rolodex run down or for me to pull her file?”

“She has a file?”

She sighed. “Yes, Dean. She has a file. I’m OCD about organization and being able to find stuff. You forget, I had a day job, fangirling is a hobby, I have to be able to function in an office setting. Off the top of my head, I can tell you that Gabriella is not a witch, and no, she is not Gabriel screwing with you, and that she will find you again, so don’t worry about finding her.”

“Then who is she?”

“The new Trickster. She was raised and trained to take over when Gabriel died.”

“He took on a protégé?” He snorted. “No wonder she reminded us of him.”

“Protégé nothin’. She’s his daughter.” The tomato he was washing flew right out of his hands in his surprise, he grappled with the wet orb in the metal basin with a curse. “Yeah, see. When Gabriel realized it was only a matter of time before he would be pulled into the fight with his family, he went into the past to have a chat with his former self and convince him what he needed to do. Gabriella’s part archangel, part demi-god, raised to follow in the footsteps of the Trickster as the new Loki.”

“Which means she has more than a bone to pick with us for getting Gabe killed. Perfect.” He may very well end up stuck as a chick. God, his life sucked.

“She doesn’t have a problem with you two. She just has his sense of humor. Sam was Gabriel’s favorite and after what Gabriel put Sam through with all the endless Tuesdays, and then Sam having to live for months in a world without you, Gabe ended up with a huge soft spot for the guy, but like, who wouldn’t, right? So Sam is off limits as far as serious tricks go, he told her to feel free to pick on ya’ll, mostly you, Dean, but not to hurt either of you. None of her tricks are permanent and she’s actually pretty nice.”

Understanding, Dean nodded. “That’s what she meant by Sam being off limits. Gotcha. That was all off the top of your head?”

“Of course not, I pulled her file. By the way, I’m about a quarter of the way into the rough draft of the new book, but seriously, you guys have got to keep me updated on what’s going on so I can keep the books accurate.”

“You are not to tell people that Gabbie turned me into a chick, Becky. Think up something else.”

“Currently all of you are back together and tentatively trying to start hunting together again- thanks so much for the call letting me know my poor Sam was alive and well after I’ve been an absolute wreck over his death, by the way. I appreciate that my feelings mean so much to you when you know how much I care about him.”

He winced. “Oh shit, Becky.”

“Yeah.”

“Look, I’m sorry. Things have been crazy. First Sam, then immediately being turned female, then trying to figure out how to change back and adjust to this body, plus I think Cas is pissed at me… I didn’t think. We should have told you.”

She sniffed. “Yes, you should have. We may just be crazy fans to you, Dean Winchester, but we all love you boys like members of our own families. We all mourned the loss of Sam, me more than most because I knew the books were true. I cried for weeks.”

For a moment, he suddenly saw things from her perspective. To read the books, know about their lives, of everything they were going through and to only be able to sit back and watch it take place, but unable to help? That had to be miserable. It was what got him back on this road in the first place was reading the books and wanting to derail the things to come.

“Sorry Becky.”

“How is Sam, since we’re on the subject?”

“Good. Getting stronger by the day. We do work outs together twice a day right now, retraining our bodies. Soon he’ll be good as new.”

She hummed on the other end of the phone, a slight giggle following, and he knew she was thinking something he wouldn’t like. “Oh what I wouldn’t give to see that. Sam all hot and sweaty, shirt off, and-“

“Becky!”

“Dean Winchester, you’re a woman now, you should be able to better appreciate a male body from a woman’s eyes.”

He very much wanted to shoot the phone if only so it would be like putting a bullet in the blonde in some fashion or other. “I am not a woman, Becky,” he growled. “The male body I have appreciation for is my own, and I want it like a junky wants a hit, except not in a narcissistic way. I wanna be me again, and just because I’m currently half a foot shorter, and ninety pounds soaking wet does not mean I’m suddenly a chick.”

“In this chest beats the heart of a very straight man,” she mocked, then snorted and shook her head. “Wow. One more reason I like Sam better, at least he’s honest with himself, but I get what you’re saying. Besides, now that I’m no longer a Wincest shipper, it would be kinda ick for you to suddenly be jonesing for your baby brother.”

“It was ‘ick’ when you captained the ship, Becky.”

“Hey, fandom is a judgement free zone.”

“Bullshit. I’ve been on the forums. All the fandom does is bicker.”

“We can squabble amongst ourselves, that’s one thing. It’s another when someone who’s not one of us says something against us. Then it’s ‘let there be wrath’. Back to the subject of hotties for another minute, please.” He waited. “How’s Cas?”

He eyed the phone curiously. “Cas makes your hottie list?”

“Dean, he probably tops your hottie list, so yeah, he’s definitely on mine, though Sam tops.”

“Okay, first off? I don’t ever want to hear ‘Cas’ and ‘Sam tops’ in the same sentence ever again, are we clear? Second, I am not discussing my hottie list with you.”

“Which is not a denial and a dead give away you think Cas is hot, which I already knew. So has he shown more curiosity about your girl body yet?”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” he told her honestly.

“You know: what it would be like to hold or kiss you in your current body. Guy totally wants you, he’s got to be curious about learning the new lines and shape of your body. Your angel’s inquisitive and curious, in case you forgot.”

“He’s not my angel, Becky, and if you were here I’d have probably stabbed you by now. Don't talk about him like that. Or us like that. At all. Not that it's any of your business, but Cas and I aren't in a relationship, like I kep reminding everyone.”

“Why are you acting all embarrassed talking sex when it comes to Cas? Seriously, talking sex or having it is like discussing the weather for you. You feel no shame unless the person involved means a great deal to you and only then do you ever exercise proper bedroom privacy.”

“Except I’m not sleeping with Cas. He’s an angel, for one, so I don’t think he can get romantic feeling for a human, or if angels can get romantic feelings at all. What is the deal today? First Sam asking me if Cas and I are married, now you’re bugging me about if Cas is showing any interest in my girlish figure.”

“Well, I suppose it’s because Cas loves you and you love him- love having many meanings here. And because he loves you, and the two of you are such good friends, not to mention how well you balance each other out, how you trust each other the way you do, and this incredible bond the two of you have… when there are two people like that, people that are best friends, family, allies, etc all rolled into one, I guess the hope of everyone around them is that the relationship will also become romantic as well to fill the one void both of you have. Because we love the two of you, know you care for each other, we think you would be happy together, and nothing makes us happier than seeing you happy, therefore, we think the two of you should get together and live happily ever after. And either have cute little half-angel babies or adopt. Either way, you’d both make great parents and Sam would be the coolest uncle ever.”

Dean rolled his eyes, snorting. “Fine, whatever Becky. Sam would make an awesome uncle, I’ll give you that. I just wanted to update you and see if you found anything that could be of help to us.”

“Oh, I could, but I won’t. I am not your strategy guide to life, Dean, you gotta get through it on your own or you won’t learn anything. Chuck didn’t give you the heads up on stuff and neither will I.”

“So Chuck did continue his writing past what happened in Swan Song?”

“Mm, no, not exactly.” Her heard her shift, then the sound of a file draw being opened. “His visions of the future weren’t always in order. Sometimes he got visions of things that hadn’t happened yet, but that weren’t happening in the current timeline, either, like things that were further still into the future. So I’ve got pits and pieces of the future, but not novels worth, more like short stories. Sometimes he saw things that happened in the past, like, back stories on characters.”

That sounded interesting. “Like who?”

“Let’s see… ‘Past Events’, here. I sectioned them off by character, but they aren’t exactly relevant to the current story, so there was no need to put them into any of the novels, it’s just like further insight into the characters. There are tons on you and Sam as Weechesters.”

“As what?”

“Y’know, when you were kids. Wee-slash-little Winchesters. Weechesters.” Dean snorted and shook his head. “There’s an entire folder on your time in Hell and your relationships there, like that weird sibling vibe thing you and Meg got into after enough years spending every day together.” Dean completely missed the green onions he was chopping, the knife slicing clean into his finger.

“Fuck!”

“Hey, at least you never slept with her whenever she would proposition you,” offered Becky helpfully while he scowled at the phone and poured cold water over his finger, hating prophets more and more. Was there no such thing as privacy?! “And like I said, none of these will see the light of day, probably.”

“Becky, you better damn well burn those files, do you hear me? Salt and burn those bitches like the evil they are.”

“Now you’re just being melodramatic. Let’s see, what else… Gabriel’s file goes through him watching his family falling apart, of him trying to patch things between siblings, pretending everything was okay, and then finally when he couldn’t take anymore. Lot of angst. There’s a couple in here about him raising Gabbie that are really cute. Castiel has a file, too.”

That peaked his interest again as he finished wrapping a band-aid around the gash on his finger. “Really? What are his about?”

“Why not ask him yourself?”

“Uh, he probably wouldn’t tell me?”

“Then it’s none of your business, now is it?”

He pointed the knife angrily at the phone. “Let me tell you something: you better be glad you are on the phone, because you keep talking smack like that and girl or no, I’d have probably decked you by now. Do not cop attitude with Dean Winchester.”

“More like Deana.” Why yes, he really did want to stab her at that point. “And you forget, Dean, your brother’s my favorite, therefore all my favoritism. Tell him I said ‘hi’ by the way and that I wish him a speedy recovery.”

“He’s dating someone who’s not you, Becky. It’s never gonna be you.”

“Careful, Dean, you sound a bit bitchy there. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do, a novel to write, blogs to update, and my favorite show comes on today.” The phone beeped off, Dean glared hatefully at it.

“Oh I’ll show her bitchy.”

“You have to admit,” a new voice interjected, “that last statement of yours was harsh.”

He glanced over his shoulder to find Cas sitting at the table, hands folded together on the table top. Dean had no idea how long he’d been there.

“Excellent timing, you can help me make breakfast if you want. If not, I’ll take care of it.”

Tilting his head, Cas considered the offer for only a moment before rising, quickly removing his coat and rolling up his sleeves.

“I think I will. Please instruct me on what you would like assistance with.”

Wiping his hands on a dishcloth, Dean stepped over to the hook on the wall, retrieving the other apron. “You may wanna lose the tie, for one, and put this one so you don’t get food or grease on your clothes. Then you can cook the ground sausage while I scramble the eggs.”

Dean faltered as he watched Cas loosen his tie, their eyes accidentally meeting and locking. It was odd seeing Cas like this, his hair was more tousled than usual, his sleeves rolled up, and now with the tie… it was like primetime television with the office executive, or in Cas’ case an accountant, having a liaison at the office. Either his wife while on lunch break, but more than likely it was a forbidden relationship, so it was probably his secretary or a client or a girl who barely passed for legal, long brown hair and green eyes and-

Dean flushed bright red and shoved the apron at Cas before turning away, busying himself with skillets for both of them.

He cleared his throat, hating himself because he knew it was a giveaway that he was uncomfortable. “So when did you get here? I didn’t even hear you.”

“You were busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.” That so did not answer the question, but Dean couldn’t exactly press for an answer either.

Instead, he showed Cas how to cook the sausage, then he returned to his eggs and awkward silence fell heavily over them. He really needed to get Bobby a radio or something for in the kitchen. They had one out in the garage, but now, he really, really wanted one.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean blurted, turning his head slightly toward Cas, not really wanting to look directly at him. Cas gave him an inquiring look, eyebrows raised. “You aren’t mad at me, are you? For getting myself in this situation, like I let you down or anything, right? Because, I’m trying my best to get to where I won’t be a burden while I’m stuck like this, s-so I don’t want you to worry I will be, and I’m sorry I let this happened, some parabatai I am, right?”

Cas held up a hand. “Dean, stop talking.” The hunter’s mouth clamped shut and the angel turned to face him fully, head angled to the side. “You told me not to blame myself for having failed to protect you, that Sam was right there and could do nothing to help you either, so why would I be mad at you? There was nothing any of us could have done to prevent this, and you’re certainly not a burden, nor am I angry, and before you can ask, no, I do not regret making you my parabatai, so stop worrying about if you let me down or not.”

At a loss, Dean shook his head. “Then why won’t you look at me?”

Those blue eyes raked over Dean’s form, not leering, just looking. Setting his utensil aside, Cas stepped closer to Dean, right up in his personal space like he did so often, making Dean’s heart throb painfully against his ribs, eyes widening in surprise as he now had to look up at the angel’s face so close to his. Those blue eyes played over Dean’s face. When his eyes inadvertently fell to the angel’s mouth, Dean tried to take a step back, his face burning hotly, the hand at his waist that stopped him was like electricity running through him, making him hyperly aware of everything, yet deaf to much else besides the throbbing of blood in his ears.

“Because you’re uncomfortable around me now,” Cas stated softly, his hand falling away as he stepped back. “I didn’t want to make it worse when I knew you were already struggling.”

Startled, maybe by the sudden lose of heat or by Cas’s words, Dean reached out to grab Cas’ coat arm, forgetting the overcoat was discarded. His hand clasped the angel’s forearm. The blue eyes that had slid away now snapped back to meet his gaze; Dean struggled to find a voice.

“I-it’s not you. I’m not uncomfortable because of you,” he stated, “but because of me. I respond differently to everything now, especially you for some reason, but you didn’t do anything wrong. I-it’s me, I’m…” Still aware of the way he desperately held onto Castiel’s arm, he withdrew his hand, flushing, and looking away, aggravated and embarrassed. “This body responds like a girl’s. I don’t know how to control it, to control emotions and reactions. You aren’t making me uncomfortable in a general sense, Cas, I just…

‘It’s just different. Our interactions are just different. I’ve gotten use to your disregard for personal space, it doesn’t bother me anymore, but like this… it’s like I’m suddenly aware of it again when you’re close to me and my body just reacts and then I freak out because I can’t control it and-“

“Your body is responding to me as a woman to a man,” Cas stated simply, understanding, perhaps even curiously.

Dean’s face burned till it felt like even his hair must be glowing with embarrassment. Dropping his eyes, he just nodded guiltily, unable to look at the angel, and forcing himself not to fidget nervously.

“I’ve had the same problem,” admitted the angel, making Dean’s gaze snap up in surprise. “I thought perhaps you sensed it and that was part of what was making you uncomfortable. The… almost instinctive sense to treat you as a female, topped with the increased bond we have due to the newest sigil, the sigil that makes me even more protective of you, that draws us together like magnets so that we may always be able to find one another.” He shook his head. “I apologize. I did not know the sigil would amplify what we already felt, not to mention, those affects added onto you having to completely relearn the way your body reacts to stimulus… I should have realized and spoken to you sooner so we would not have avoided each other this past week.”

Dean blinked, pointedly making sure not to ruin breakfast even as they continued their discussion. “So my being hyperly aware of you whenever you’re in the room, that’s because of the sigil?” Cas nodded, returning to his own task as well. “Or when you’re in my personal space? Or when you accidentally touch me? Even when you’re upset? You’re saying the sigil has me majorly aware of all of that?”

“I did not know you would feel any effects of it.”

“So my insecurity isn’t just because I’m in a girl body?”

“I think that added to it. Females feel more than males do. The sigil amplified your feelings, then becoming female also amplified them, plus your unfamiliarity with that body, your own concerns and frustrations, they only compounded everything until you had no outlet, which led you to flee to the warehouse the other day when Sam attempted to tease you.”

“I fell apart, you mean.”

“You were overwhelmed and I knew of no way to help you,” he said softly. “I also knew part of the turmoil you felt stemmed from interactions with me. Sam went instead. I felt the soothing affect he had on you. I continued to stay out of the way because I did not know how to do the same or what I was doing that upset you so. I did not realize you were feeling the effects of the sigil.”

“So you are hyperly aware of me as well?”

Those blue eyes turned and found his. “Dean, I’ve always been attuned to you, it has only grown since the day I held your soul and raised you from Perdition. I had… adjusted to it, knowing it as a part of who I am now.”

Dean eyed him warily. “Are we married, Cas?”

A smirk made it’s way across the angel’s face, and he shook his head, amused. “No, we are not.”

“You would tell me, though, right? Before you did something like that? Even if it was a desperate attempt that would keep me safe or something? You would let me know we were married, wouldn’t you?” Cas had the audacity to actually chuckle, but Dean’s head was swimming. “Dude, seriously. I have been wigging out over this! I see us in my head, Cas! Like, all the time, even when we’re in the same room together, it’s like I’m standing in the corner watching us. I know when you’re indecisive or something’s bothering you, even if you give no indication, even if you aren’t even in the room with me! It’s like I’m picking up vibes or something, and then Sam was asking me questions I didn’t have the answers to and telling me things that are way left field for me, and can angels even get married or fall in love, because when he asked, I realized I didn’t even know! I hardly know anything about you, Cas! That bothers me!”

Reaching over to grab a large mason jar, Cas then grabbed the collinder and scrapped the cooked sausage into it, letting the grease drain into the jar. “First off, what you’re feeling is normal, so don’t worry about it like you are. Second, no,” he chuckled again, “we aren’t married. Yes, angels can fall in love and get married. It doesn’t happen often, though.”

“Why not?”

This seemed to catch Cas off guard, because he frowned, angling his head. His blue gaze was distant. “Because… because we are all soldiers in the field. We are a military organization. Not to mention, typically only angels that fall would even consider doing something as selfish as falling in love, the mentality to think for oneself really just isn’t there, therefore no personal choices. It’s actually rather frowned upon by the other angels.”

“Why?”

“Because loving someone makes them your highest priority, even above duty and function. You are more concerned with their well-being. It can distract from orders.”

Shaking his head, Dean busied himself putting together, folding up, and wrapping the breakfast burritos in tin foil before setting them aside, working with quick, efficient movements.

“Dude, no offense? I’m glad you rebelled against your family. They suck. You totally deserve to do something as simple as falling in love without getting dirty looks from your siblings. You deserve to be happy without having people get mad at you for putting Mission Objective second in your life.”

Their eyes met, Cas still looking vaguely amused for reasons Dean couldn’t fathom, before those blue eyes shifted when he began cleaning up their mess. “Falling in love is hardly easy. Well, maybe to do when you meet the person, but being in love with them hardly makes your life easier… from what I understand,” he added. “To reiterate, no, I am not mad at you, no, we are not married- for future reference, since I am the more powerful of us- using 'us' as a general example, you would have to make the request for marriage, like with the sigil I had to have your permission. The person with less power actually holds the most power in the relationship. Not to mention, if you ever have any questions, you are free to ask.”

Giving a curt nod, Dean tried to wrack his brain for anything he’d ever really wanted to know about Cas. Nothing really came to mind. What did it matter, really? He knew the important stuff: Cas was loyal, he was about family, he had Dean’s back in any situation, and he cared about the people Dean cared about. Seriously, was he suppose to start asking about Castiel’s thousands of years of existence before he met Dean? The friendships he’d forged? The things he’d seen or done?

Knowing all that would only make Dean feel like an insignificant insect by comparison, like, seriously, the guy had better things to do with hang out with the dysfunctional, danger-prone Winchester family.

“I do have a question for you,” Cas stated, taking things as Dean handed them to him and placing them on the table.

“Shoot.”

The angel was quiet a moment, making Dean glance back as the other man appeared to choose his words carefully. “What is the significance of a ‘hottie list’?”

In his mortification, Dean dropped the bowl he was holding, causing it to shatter all over the floor at his feet.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

Seriously. The day could not get any worse, and even if it could, Dean was already fed up with it. They’d gotten called out to take care of a demon holed up in an abandoned gas station, and frankly, nothing says fun like fighting demon spawn with Super Soakers and water balloons filled with holy water, except, you know, holy water doesn’t exactly get the demon out of the body or kill it either, just sort of pisses them royally off. Which was what made it fun.

Except, it hadn’t been just the one demon. And it wasn’t like they could have laid out devil’s traps or anything either. Probably the only reason they hadn’t gotten killed was the very small salt perimeter Sam had managed to lay down, but salt lines don’t exactly stop bullets. They’d run out of ammo, they’d been running low on holy armory, and two hunters with one demon killing knife between them against twenty angry demons was not looking good.

He and Sam had been hunkered down behind an overturned car when the screaming had started, lights flashing. They’d grinned at each other, thankful once again they were friends with an angel.

Except…

“Hello, boys,” the voice drawled as a figure stepped around the car, right at the edge of their salt perimeter. They both pointed their water guns at the female demon smirking at them, her signature smirk in place as her gaze drifted to Dean. “Or not.” She tapped the angel blade she was holding against her leg, regarding the hunter in condescending amusement. “What? Were your previous seduction attempts with Clarence such a bust you resorted to this?”

The elder Winchester groaned. Yeah, this had been another person he’d really hoped not to run into while still stuck like this. Hope had always worked out so well for him the past.

“How are you still alive?” he demanded, firing of a shot of blessed water at her just for the hell of it.

She sidestepped it easily, continuing to smirk. “Because I’m in a whole other league from the morons you two normally face down.”

He continued to glare at her. “Yeah, well, you still have some nerve showing your face around us after that stunt with the hell hounds you pulled. You cost us two good people. Two great people.”

“Yes, well, you cost me a Messiah and put the greatest threat to our existence on his throne instead, so let’s let bygones be bygones, shall we?”

Snorting, Sam shook his head. “Really?” He arched a brow when she turned to him. “You’re worried about Crowley being the king of hell as opposed to a fallen angel who hated both humans and demons?”

“You didn’t save the world, sparky, just delayed the inevitable. You have your faith, I have mine. Which is why I’m here.”

Yeah, apparently filling them in wasn’t enough. She wanted to stick around to talk about the ‘problem’. They’d both been tired, sore, and hungry, which was how they ended up at Al’s Hotdogs, which weirdly enough, sold gyros and burgers… and the occasional hotdog. He doubted Meg would attack his brother in a restaurant, which was the only reason Dean left them to find a table while he went to place all their orders, feeling crankier and crankier as the gnawing emptiness in his stomach mounted.

In his embarrassment with Cas the day before (he never really gave him an answer), he’d avoided the angel the rest of the day, which made him miss dinner, then the call came in making them miss breakfast, now here it was late afternoon, and he was willing to kill the cow himself if that would get him a decent burger.

“Hi,” a voice drawled behind him as he waited in line.

Curious, Dean pivoted long enough to glance at the guy standing behind him grinning. “Hi.” He turned back around.

“Ever been here before?” Dean shook his head, no longer feeling annoyed when his ponytail swished at the movement. Strange how you got use to things when you had to. Like under wire and bra hooks. “This place is amazing, despite the humble appearance.”

“They don’t have a bacon double cheeseburger, dude. I already take offense.”

The guy laughed, and for whatever reason, the sound of it triggered something in Dean’s mind, a warning he couldn’t quiet place. He glanced back at the guy, who was still smiling. He offered a tight smile back. Dude was just being nice, no need to get rude because he’d been fighting demons on an empty stomach and was going on two weeks of being stuck as a girl.

“Well, they aren’t perfect like I thought then.” He angled his head to regard Dean, the hunter’s brows knitting in confusion as to why this guy was so damn friendly. “We should complain. Insist they fix the menu.” He winked teasingly.

Dean’s blood ran cold, panic rushing over him. Oh dear God. He was being hit on. He sent a panicked look over at Sam. His brother was busy on his phone calling Cas and Bobby, and Meg’s back was to Dean, not that she would help. The elder Winchester turned back at the guy, tongue darting out over his bottom lip.

“Uh, look, you’re nice, but I’m not interested.” He shook his head. “I’m starved. I just want lunch.”

The guy’s gaze flicked to the menu and then back to Dean as the line shuffled forward. “Well, no reason it can’t be both ways. Why don’t I buy you lunch and we can share a table?”

“I can buy my own, and frankly, I’m really not interested. Just hungry.” He turned back around, folding his arms so he wouldn’t be tempted to punch the guy.

“Just a friendly lunch then.”

Dean whirled back around, glaring and ready to rip the guy a new one. “Dude!”

A hand settled on the small of his back. “Is there a problem here?” Dean looked up at Cas in surprise, oddly comforted somehow by his presence, the gentle touch at his back. The angel wasn’t looking at him though, instead was regarding the stranger with that whole ‘I see the sins on your soul’ look he did.

The guy shook his head. “Nope, no problem.” His gaze flicked to Dean who continued to scowl at him, arms folding over his chest and weight shifting to his back foot. “I just didn’t want her to have to sit alone was all.”

“She won’t.”

The guy nodded rapidly, eyes darting around nervously, making Dean bite back a smile. “Oh good. Oh hey, look, it’s your turn to order.”

Both of them turned and stepped up to the counter, Cas regarding Dean curiously. “Do you know what you want?”

Chuckling, Dean shook his head at all the answers that ran through his head. Seriously, the comebacks wrote themselves.

“Yeah. Did you want anything while we’re here?” The angel gave him a pointed look and Dean raised his hands. “Hey, look, manners dictate I keep asking. You can share my fries if you change your mind.” He turned back to the clerk. “Yeah, can I get the Guacamole burger with fries, your southwestern chicken salad, and then an order of the most pathetic item you have on your menu that you would only feed your worst enemy? If you poison or spit on that last item, I promise to look the other way.”

The clerk frowned at him uncertainly, and Dean flashed him a brilliant smile. ‘Why yes, I am completely serious, thank you for taking care of that for me’ the smile said. He sensed rather than saw Cas chuckle, making him turn and grin at the angel, even winking in private joke.

“I’m assuming that last one is for Meg?”

“I hope she chokes. And no one here knows the Heimlich.”

The man nodded. “It is well deserved.”

After they paid, the clerk gave them a numbered flag to set at the end of their table for when the food was brought out. The challenge came when they went to sit down at the table. Sam was already seated across from the demon, they were both basically ignoring the other, but that also left one seat available by each of them. They couldn’t all squeeze in on one side without drawing serious attention and odd looks, and Dean certainly wasn’t going to sit by her, not to mention he’d read the books, and damn well wasn’t going to let her anywhere near Cas less she decided she wanted to shove her tongue down his throat.

“Sam.” His brother looked up in question. “Do me a favor, little brother? Switch sides. I ain’t sitting next to her and we’ll probably end up smited if we make an angel sit next to a demon. I refuse to die on an empty stomach.”

Even while looking confused, Sam easily slid out of his seat and around to sit next to Meg. “Anna and Ruby sat in the backseat without us getting struck by lightning, so I think it’s fine.”

They slid into their seats. “Anna already had homeboy and junkless on her tail, so smiting at that immediate moment was not necessary,” Dean pointed out, hooking a thumb at Cas. “They figured she’d get taken care of anyway, not to mention, they didn’t need us getting killed in the crossfire- Bitch, why are you grinning like that? I swear I will stab you. In the throat.”

Her expression didn’t waver, but her gaze did slide from Dean to the angel seated beside him. The raven-haired man regarded her curiously. “Oh nothing, I just find it funny it looks as if the tree topper is dating the Winchester’s baby sister is all.”

“I really hope you choke on your food,” he told her, a sadist grin stretching across his face as he leaned across the table to hiss at her. “I’ll conveniently forget basic First Aid. I also hope you get food poisoning and end up paying homage to the porcelain throne all night long.”

She hummed in amusement, glancing back at Cas again. “Oh I can see why your fell for him. Sweet nothings like that, who wouldn’t want to date him?”

Throwing himself back in his chair, Dean rolled his eyes. “We aren’t dating. That joke is getting old, people.”

“So you’re saying Cas didn’t have to just step in as the boyfriend figure when some dumb lug didn’t have to sense to hit on any other girl in the building but you, right?”

“He didn’t step in as the boyfriend figure.”

“If not, then why did Sam send him over rather than coming to your aid himself?”

Dean’s gaze flicked to his brother. Sam held up his hands. “Not saying she’s right, but you look like my little sister. It would have either come across as creepy or overbearing and sexist or something. Cas was already looking to intervene since you were getting mad. I let him.”

The waitress brought the food and left with their flag. Dean took no satisfaction in the plain weenie on a plain bun set in front of Meg. The weenie hadn’t even been cooked. She regarded it in distaste.

Okay maybe he took a little satisfaction. He choked on his drink laughing when she had to take to food back up to the counter. The clerk gave him a worried look over the demon’s shoulder. Dean grinned and gave him double thumbs up while Sam chuckled and shook his head.

“You sure you wanna get on her nerves before she tells us why she’s here, Dean?” Their gazes met. “I hardly think she’d make an appearance without good cause. She knows we want her dead.”

Swallowing a bite of his burger –which was amazing, by the way, he would be getting these more often, especially if he could get them with bacon- Dean shrugged.

“Even if she walks away, it’ll totally have been worth it for the look of disgust on her face. Once she’s gone, my day will only improve.”

The woman in question plopped back down in annoyance. “Cute, Deano, really. If you’re finished, can we get this business lunch started then?”

“Whenever you’re ready to put that air you’re wasting towards something good to say,” Dean shrugged. Promptly earning him a kick from both people across the table from him, and Cas nudging his leg with his knee. Which was far more distracting.

Taking in a breath, Meg let her gaze flick to each of their faces before locking eyes with Cas. “Don’t suppose you boys know anything about why all the prophets have gone missing, do you? Even the ones that were in our camp are conveniently M.I.A, I’d have thought you responsible, but your people are missing, too.”

“All the prophets are missing?” echoed Sam, gaze meeting Dean’s before looking at Cas. Dean was actually surprised there were apparently enough of them that their absence was noticeable.

Dean looked at Cas questioningly. The angel shook his head. “I know nothing about it. When I initially inquired about the one we knew to be missing, no one mentioned anything about others. If they are unable to be detected just as-“ Dean jabbed his elbow in Cas’ ribs, clamping his teeth together in pain as it was like elbowing a brick wall. Apparently, it was understood though, the angel glanced at him. “-the prophet we were assigned to go looking for is, then it is a safe assumption the Host probably does not even realize their charges are missing.”

Wordlessly, Cas slid the hand under the table to lay it on Dean’s arm, causing relief to wash over his arm like cool water. Dean sighed contently, even as Cas withdrew his hand.

“When all the animals flee the forest? You can bet your britches they aren’t running from Bambi, boys,” drawled Meg, biting into her food.

“How do you even know this? You’re a demon,” snapped Dean, glaring at her while she continued to regard him coolly. “How is a demon keeping tabs on the prophets of the Lord?”

Her brow arched. “We had our own, Deano, and I had one in my pocket as well. How do you think I always managed to stay ahead of your favorite Demon King? My girl with the Sight is missing. It wasn’t hard to follow the breadcrumbs to the others and find their beds all unslept in.”

“Great. As if we didn’t have enough to deal with.” He and Sam shared a look, a silent conversation acknowledging that at least with more prophets missing, that probably meant more clues. Which at least was good. Yeah, but if they were spirited away into thin air like Chuck, then there probably weren’t anymore clues than there had been with him, which were a grand total of none. At least it was something to go on, right?

Groaning, Meg rolled her eyes. “Okay stop with the sibling telepathy already.”

“I find it fascinating to watching them have conversations using only facial expressions and gestures,” admitted Cas, looking away from the brothers to regard the demon across the table. “It’s a testament to their bond.”

She smirked at him. “Then what’s with all the eye sex you and Dean are constantly having? What does that say for your ‘bond’?”

Sam choked on his drink, and Dean kicked Meg hard in the shin with his steel-toed boots, jaw set angrily.

Cas regarded her in confusion then said, “Your jealousy is uncalled for.” Both brothers were choking then, coughing and sputtering. A slow grin stretched over Meg’s face like a cat eyeing a canary. “Just because he never-“

Dean clamped a hand over Cas’ mouth, feeling the way that mouth wilted into a frown against his palm. He angled his head, gazing at Dean in confusion.

The hunter shook his head. “We have got to teach you what is and is not okay to bring up around other people, dude,” he said lowering his hand. The angel continued to look confused, but shrugged and remained silent. Dean flicked his gaze to Meg. “Thanks for the heads up on the other prophets-“

“And for saving your lives earlier today.” Cas stiffened.

Dean ignored her. “We’ll keep an eye out for them while we’re looking for our original missing person. Now get lost.”

Humming in amusement, she pulled a card from her pocket and placed it on the table, sliding it across the surface to Cas, her eyes never wavering from his. “If you find something, be sure to give me a call, boyfriend. I’m always eager to help.”

“This is insanity,” Dean griped, slamming the door to his baby harder than he meant to, immediately giving the car an apologetic pat.

His brother gave him a sideways glance. “Have you met us, Dean? We’re the Winchesters. If things were normal, we’d be out of a job.”

“You ever miss the days where all we did was hunt monsters? You know? Wendingos? Ghosts? The occasional possessed object or evil spirit?” He sighed heavily. “I miss those days.”

“Sure, back when our greatest threat was usually a ghost trying to drown us in a sink or a bathtub or something.”

“Ah, vengeful spirits.” Despite himself, Dean hummed in amused nostalgia. “You always knew what you were dealing with. How to handle it. There were laws of nature that whatever you were fighting had to follow. Neither of us was crotchety and bitter yet…”

“Hey!”

“You were less angst-ridden.”

“You weren’t constantly scowling…”

Dean nodded in agreement. “Yep. We were still sheltered creatures back then. Good times.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam gave Dean’s shoulder a shove, knocking the elder Winchester off balance. Laughing, Dean took a swing at him, punching his arm lightly.

“You’re both suddenly in very good moods,” Cas noted, causing them both to look back over their shoulders. “I would have thought the latest development would have caused some manner of distress.”

“We got to eat,” they said in unison, causing them both to laugh and swat at the other again.

“Food makes you happy in the face of great danger,” the angel said with a nod. “I’ll remember that the next time my siblings try to start the apocalypse.”

Sam punched Dean’s shoulder. “Dude. You have got to stop teaching the angel sarcasm. He’s getting good at it.”

Dean shrugged, grinning back at his friend. “You should hear him talk smack. Called Raphael his little bitch and everything.” He put a hand to his heart. “I was so proud.”

“Better than ‘assbutt’?”

Dean waved dismissively. “That’s probably more offensive in Enochian, but you have to admit he was awesome.”

“Hey, I was cheering for him.”

A shadow of a smirk crossed Cas’ face, and he shook his head. “Who would like to inform Bobby of this latest development and of our newest ally?”

Both brothers pivoted sharply, holding out a closed fist in the palm of the other hand. “Best two out of three?” inquired Sam, arching a brow.

Cas looked at both of them in confusion. “You would decided this with Rock, Paper, Scissors?” Then he laughed and shook his head. “Of course you would, why do I bother asking? I will tell him if neither of you wish to.”

Scoffing Dean rolled his eyes, bouncing his fist in his palm a couple of times. “C’mon, Cas, this is part of the fun. Play with us. Indulge us in our little human quirks. It keeps us sane in the face of great troubles and times.”

Blue eyes flicking to each of their faces, Cas mimicked their posture with a shrug.

Best two out of three still ended in Cas losing. Sam was actually shocked, since Dean always lost, and he figured an angel would be able to beat them in a simple game, but no. The elder Winchester was still so happy from his full stomach and now at having finally beaten someone at Rock, Paper, Scissors, he ended up doing a wiggle dance on the sidewalk as they made their way to the front porch.

“Y’know, Dean,” began Sam, chuckling. His brother looked at him with wide, inquiring eyes. “You seem a lot more comfortable in that body now than you were in the beginning. You just did a Victory Dance, dude.” Cas gave a nod of agreement, but said nothing.

Laughing, the elder Winchester waved him off. “Yeah? So what? I’m stuck with it, might as well have some fun. Besides, I can be sillier in this body and get away with it. It’s kinda fun.”

Sam clapped him on the back. “Well, I gotta admit I’m proud of you. This is totally not how I thought you’d handle it.”

Pursing his lips, Dean angled his head. “What did you think I’d do? Go on a rampage or something?”

His brother barked with laughter. “Naw, dude. I actually figured you’d go on some kind of sex binge or something, live it up from the other side or something.”

Dean blinked with a start, then made a face, jerking away from his brother. “I didn’t even think of that. I just- ew.”

“Ew?”

“Yeah. Ew. That would just be really… weird. I know plenty about sex with girls, but don’t know the first thing about having sex as a girl, not to mention, being so out of my element, I’m not just gonna go find some random hottie at the bar to take me home or something-“

“Are we talking about a girl or a guy taking you home?” questioned Sam with a frown. “Because you are in a girl body now.” He wasn’t teasing, just curious, like he was trying to get it straight in his head and imagine what that was like from his brother’s perspective.

“He was talking about a guy,” interjected Cas, causing Dean’s face to turn every shade of red there was, and then invent a few more to go with it. “In his mindset, guys take girls home. He is a girl, so that mentality is his default setting. Seeking out lesbian relations would be even further out of his element, and nothing he would have originally considered as they were previously off limits in his male body. He finds the whole idea, including just the idea of casual sex, actually very awkward, especially considering he was in a committed relationship recently.”

“Cas!” exclaimed Dean, mortified. The angel regarded him curiously, head angled in a way Dean’s brain informed him was cute, yet at the same time, he suddenly felt naked in front of the two of them, folding his arms protectively. “What have I told you about mind reading and what is and is not okay to just come out and say?”

Those blue eyes narrowed slightly, trying to ascertain what he’d done wrong. “It was not something you had even considered until Sam brought it up, though. And we were merely having a speculative discussion.”

Sam was nodding, reaching back to scratch the back of his head. “I’m with Cas on this, we’re just talking about general speculation, and I totally get your mentality too.” Frowning, he shook his head. “I can’t even imagine what it would be like to completely have to change my perspective on how I approached the world. You suddenly being a girl completely changes the way you interact with others, mannerisms and behavior, the emotional and mental mindset you approach the world with.” He scoffed. “I’d have freaked out at first, too.”

The red had faded from the whole of his face, leaving only his cheeks a hue of scarlet as he eyed both men suspiciously. “So this isn’t you trying to take a crack at me?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “No. I’m actually genuinely curious. The psychological and sociological aspects of such a change, and the way one deals with it, appeals to my nerd side. Like, what would you do if you found out you were suddenly stuck forever as a chick? What would your main concerns be? Or what were they initially? You must have thought about it.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude, your nerd side is your only side.” Shrugging, he settled his hands on his hips, rolling the thought around in his head. “Like I said, I hadn’t even thought about it. Y’know, in my mind, this is still a temporary, yet great, inconvenience while we’re on this case. Gabbie will change me back; things will go back to normal. Random guys won’t hit on me in line anymore. My concerns when it came to thinking I might be stuck like this never came to a relationship with someone, they always revolved around hunting, watching ya’lls backs, having ya’ll watch mine, if I was putting us more at risk now. I don’t know what I’d do if this were permanent. I’d freak out.” His cell phone rang and he fished it out of his back pocket. “Oh, hey, it’s Lisa. I gotta take this.” He gave Cas a thumbs up. “Good luck with Bobby. Lisa? Hey, yeah, it’s Dean. I sound like a girl, I know… funny story about that…”

Sam faltered climbing the steps, turning to regard the angel still watching his brother’s retreating form. The hunter glanced after his brother, then back to Castiel.

“Everything okay?”

The other man met his gaze. “Fine.” Those blue eyes flicked back to Dean just as he disappeared around a corner, his long pony tail getting caught on the breeze, and snapping sharply.

Weighing his options, Sam finally shrugged, venturing, “Did you just check out my brother as he walked away?” Cas turned to him in confusion. “Do you, like, like him better in this body or something? He appeals to you now or something?” He held up his hands. “I won’t tell him or anything, I’m still just curious here.”

The angel rolled his eyes; Sam idly wondered which one of them he’d picked it up from. “I am no more attracted to your brother as a female than as a male. He simply looks different now, it still sometimes catches me off guard.” He paused, like he suddenly remembered something, those blue eyes fixing on Sam. “While we are on the subject of attraction, perhaps you can clear something up for me.”

Sam shrugged, hands in his pockets. “Shoot.”

“What is the significance of a ‘hottie list’ and who is on it?” The hunter’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You are at the top of Becky’s list. I, also, am ranked somewhere on it.” His gaze flicked back and forth, lips pressed together, before he finally shook his head in defeat. “I do not get it. Dean would not explain when I asked.”

Understanding, Sam was shaking his head in amusement. “Yeah, why am I so not surprised on any of those accounts? A hottie list is like a mental roster of all the people, in a perfect world where you actually stood a chance of even meeting them and them liking you, you would like to, or even just be open to, having sex with.” Cas’s eyes flew open and Sam quickly tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, Becky isn’t going to try anything. She’s bizarre, but more than anything she just wants our acceptance, so she tries to mind her boundaries. Most everyone has a list they subconsciously keep. It’s usually filled with people none of us would ever meet or stand a chance with. They’re impossible for us.”

“The higher your rank, the more you are desired, yet even more impossible to obtain.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, basically.”

The angel regarded him with a critical eye. “I assume it’s considered rude to ask someone about their list?”

“Well, sorta. It can be personal, sometimes people’s lists actually have people they know on it, not just, say, a celebrity or fictional characters or whatever. Like, my list? Sarah. Sarah is my list, not just on it.”

Castiel shook his head. “I do not understand. She is not unattainable. I should think the transition into a romantic relationship would be quite easy and well received.”

“Except for the part where all the girls I come to care about and ever had sex with died. Usually horribly.” He shook his head. “Not risking that with her. I couldn’t bear it.”

“So she’s off limits in your mind, even though you love her?”

Flushing with embarrassment, Sam dropped his gaze, regarding the warped porch boards under his feet. “Yeah, I guess.”

Shaking his head, the angel finished climbing the stairs to go inside. “Humans are a confusing species. If you love someone, you should be with them, taking extra care to keep them safe if you already know there are risks.”

“If you love someone, their needs and safety come before your own wants and needs,” argued Sam.

“It sounds like forfeit before the battle.”

“It’s a personal choice.”

“Which should involve both people, not just one, because then it is a biased decision and unfair.”

“Then who is on your hottie list and why haven’t you pursued them, Mr. Love Is A Battlefield?”

Cas faltered in the kitchen, and Sam turned around to regard him triumphantly. The angel’s words caught him off guard though. “It… is not a simple as that. I am forbidden from pursuing them.”

Biting his bottom lip, Sam glanced furtively at the other man. “It’s not Meg, is it?” Cas looked up in surprise. “Because I gotta tell you man, I do not approve of that at all, it’s not going to end well-“

“Why would you think it would be Meg?”

“She was hitting on you earlier. It was part of the reason Dean was so mad at her. Bitch is evil.”

Cas shook his head. “It is not Meg.” He gave the hunter a look like he couldn’t quite believe they were having that discussion. “No offense intended, Sam, but you are the one with a history of having weak spots for a demon, not I. My weak spot is in my human friends and family.” He faltered, straightening with a puzzled expression, gaze flicking around as though searching for something.

Sam glanced around cautiously. “What? What is it?”

The angel shook his head, uncertain. “It is… Dean is annoyed.” There was an angry holler from outside, causing both of them to turn and rush out the back door.

A blonde rushed by with a peal of laughter, followed closely after by a furious Dean. They watched as the blonde scrambled up a stack of junk car like it was nothing, even going so far as to jump to the top of a nearby stack, before plopping down to grin at the brunette pacing on the ground.

“Dammit, Gabbie!” roared Dean. “You get back down here and change my clothes back or so help me God, I will end you! It’s not bad enough you made me a chick, now you make me look like a Dukes of Hazzards escapee?!” Sam took in his brother’s appearance, biting back a laugh at the short cut off shorts he was sporting, along with cowboy boots, even his plaid shirt was tied up to show off his midriff and cleavage. “Where’d you put my gun, bitch? I need to shoot you.”

She waved the weapon at him with a grin. “Aw, c’mon. You look cute and this is fun.” She looked up and grinned at Sam and Castiel. “Hey, what do ya’ll think? Your little sister’s adorable, right, Sammy? Make you wanna fall in love, Cas?”

Dean pivoted around sharply, hand twitching for a weapon, Sam thought his brother was practically baring his teeth and snarling. The two men on the back porch stepped out into the yard, Cas tilting his head back to regard the female.

“We are not friends. You do not get to call me that. Return Dean to his proper form.”

“Or what? I could turn you into a girl, too, you know.”

“Or I will snatch you up by your hair and break a wall with your face, dammit,” yelled Dean, already attempting to climb the tower of vehicles.

Castiel didn’t move, but suddenly, he was at Gabbie’s side, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her down on her back. The tower of cars, screeched with bending metal and shattering glass. Sam lunged forward to grab his brother around waist, yanking him away from the off balance structure as the two angels tussled. Then they were on the ground and Cas was pinning her to the side of the work shop with one hand, her feet dangling inches off the ground while he glared.

It took all of Sam’s self-restraint not to smack his brother for cheering the angel on. Seriously. Last thing they needed was a knock out drag out while surrounded by towers of rusted metal and broken glass.

Gabriella was laughing, even going so far as to bring her legs up and wrap them tightly around Cas’s waist so she wasn’t simply hanging anymore. His lips curled back in a snarl, pulling her forward then slamming her forcefully against th wall behind her, denting the side of the structure. She only laughed harder.

“Or relax, Blue Eyes, it’ll wear off tomorrow when he gets a shower,” she cackled. Yeah, she was definitely related to Gabriel. “Why do you think I’m here? He filled his end of the bargain. I filled mine. Not that I mind it rough, but seriously, I don’t like you that much, lemme go.”

“Remove yourself from me first.”

She snorted with laughter, unwrapping her legs; he lowered her to the ground and carefully stepped back, still glaring.

Dean held up a hand. “Well, I still vote we gank her.” Rolling his eyes, Sam glared at him, and Dean gave him an incredulous look. “What? Dude! She turned me into a girl. That deserves a death penalty.”

“It was fair payment,” she argued. “I did something I didn’t want, so you had to, too.”

“What did you find out?” questioned Sam, forever the reasonable one in the group. Dean actually kinda liked that, they all balanced each other out.

“All the prophets are missing, not just the one.”

“We found that out already,” Dean stated, hands on his hips. “Try again.”

Sam shot a look at his brother, silently conveying that the last time Dean pissed off the angel, she changed his gender, so keep your mouth shut before you make this any worse you freaking moron. He looked back at the blonde. “What does that mean, exactly?”

Shrugging, Gabbie hooked her thumbs in her pockets, rolling her weight to her back foot. “Just the end of the world. Y’know, the usual.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine

When he came downstairs from his shower, Dean made a show of himself, wearing only a pair of jeans as he walked back and forth across Bobby’s study like he was a model on a run way, pausing when he got to each end of the room to strike a pose and turn. Bobby was still asleep since it was so early, but the rest had all adjusted to Sam’s rehab schedule and were awake.

“Eh? Eh?” He grinned wildly at his brother, who was chuckling in amusement and shaking his head. “I look good right? Look at this body! I wanna fall in love with myself I’m so hot.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam said, “You’re a sexy beast, Dean. Now put a shirt on.” He faltered, frowning and doing a double take at his brother. “When did you get that?”

“Get what?” questioned Dean, looking down at himself for bruises or something he hadn’t been aware of.

“On your shoulder, the ring of text.” Dean frowned and looked at his left shoulder. “Other one. In Cas’s handprint.”

At this, the angel looked up from where he’d already returned to his book, inquiring as though he’d been called by name, then serious as his gaze fell on Dean’s shoulder. The hunter looked down at his arm with a frown, at the elegant script written in a perfect circle.

“I don’t remember getting that done,” he stated suspiciously. Castiel was reading his book again, while Sam rose to his feet to inspect the tattoo more closely. “How long has that even been there?”

Sam arched a brow. “You don’t know? Dude, do you look in the mirror when you take a shower?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s still covered in steam and I’m completely dressed before I leave the bathroom. Besides, how often does a person look at their shoulder? Seriously.”

Conceding the point, Sam gave a one sided shrug. “It looks like it’s in Enochian, actually. Except for being written in a circle like that. Enochian is non-flourish. How drunk did you get to get a tattoo and you don’t even remember it? Was it after I died or something? Lisa says you did a mess of drinking back then.”

The elder Winchester shook his head before pulling on a shirt and running his hands over his still damp hair. “Nah, I would have noticed it before then. Besides, I haven’t drank in months.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You what?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah. I felt so bad acting a fool like that and drinking so much, especially with Ben in the house, I gave it up. It’s not like it was helping and I was totally a bad example for a kid.” He swatted at his brother. “Stop looking so shocked. I can be a responsible adult. Oh, hey look, you’re not-so-naughty nurse is here for your training. Go get ‘em tiger.”

Sam didn’t have to be told twice, just rolled his eyes and waved his brother off, before hurrying out the front door to meet Sarah for their bike ride. Dean waited for several moments before pivoting around to face his best friend, hands on his hips.

“Okay. Spill. I’m already sure I won’t like it, but tell me anyway.” The other man lifted his gaze inquiringly, but with a blank expression like he wasn’t sure what Dean was talking about. Scoffing, Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude. It’s in your language. You can translate. Not to mention, you went five shades of red the moment you saw it, and I could practically feel your heart start pounding, which would been kinda funny if it weren’t making me so nervous that what’s written on my arm is something seriously bad. So what is it?”

Cas shifted his gaze back down to his book. “It is nothing bad or of any real consequence, just a phrase.”

Crossing the room, Dean plucked the book easily from Cas’s hands, which he shouldn’t have been able to do given the angel’s strength. The other man rose quickly, avoiding looking at him. Dean grabbed his wrist, keeping him from brushing past him, which left them both in each other’s personal space. While it did not have Cas looming over Dean like when he was in his female body, Dean noted he was still more hyperly aware of the angel’s body suddenly. He had to swallow thickly to be able to speak.

“What does it say, Cas?”

Blue gaze flicking to Dean’s arm, the burn mark and tattoo hidden by the sleeve of Dean’s shirt, the angel sighed in defeat, sliding a hand up the hunter’s arm to push the fabric back. Dean fought back a shiver of delight that ripped all the way through him at the sensation, the urge to let his eyes slide shut.

The angel regarded the writing for a moment, then admitted, “It says ‘The angel of Thursday’.”

Dean frowned at him. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Sighing again, Cas stepped away, refusing to look at Dean. The hunter fought reaching out to grab him again, missing that touch. “It does make sense.” He turned, forcing himself to meet his friend’s gaze. “That is the translation of my name.”

For a moment, Dean forgot to breath. They just stared at each other, not moving.

Then, “Are you telling me I have ‘Property of Castiel’ tattooed on my arm?”

“You are my parabatai,” ventured the angel cautiously, as if that made it better.

“Cas!” exclaimed Dean. “Dude! People are already asking me if you and I are romantically involved and cracking jokes about us being friends! This is fuel to the fire! Why would you do this?”

“I did not do it intentionally,” argued the angel, defensive. “I can only assume it’s a result of making you my parabatai. The warning is there for angels to see, but where human eyes cannot, I did not realize there would be a physical one as well. We are a first for me, Dean, forgive me if I am no on expert on this.”

“So are we married now?” demanded the other man.

“No!” snapped Cas angrily. “Why do you keep asking me that? Worse still, in that tone? As though you would sooner die than be devoted to an angel? To me?”

“Because you’re a guy, Cas!”

“I am not!”

“So, what, you’re a chick?”

“I am an angel! We are gender neutral and completely indifferent to sexual orientation! Why does the shape of my vessel matter so much to you? When you were female it made no difference to me other than sometimes I forgot about the change and it caught me off guard, or the curiosity of watching the way you moved differently and adapted to your surroundings in one body as opposed to the other, but you were still you regardless of what you looked like! Why are you ashamed to be associated with me because my vessel is male?”

Dean blinked with a start, staring at his friend. “Whoa. Cas, dude, I’m not ashamed of you. I couldn’t be damn prouder to call myself your friend, okay?” The angel glowered furiously at him, and Dean wondered exactly how close he was to getting smited. “I just… There’s a huge cultural difference going on here, okay? To you, gender doesn’t matter, but to humans, gender having a huge priority to us is how we’re raised. Gender and relationships are the cause for a lot of strife and division, even as children it can be the source of ridicule, in which case, even as adults it incites jokes, ridicule, and teasing.

‘You and I are both guys, regardless of you being an angel with the power to body jump. When people see us, they see guys. Not everyone is accepting to two guys being in a close relationship, it makes people uncomfortable, makes some angry, but it goes back to the way we are raised. Angels are all born with a sort of equality about them, some are ranked higher than others, but you are all equals separated by nothing. Humans are the exact opposite. We’re separated from each other by everything, and especially by appearances. It doesn’t matter to you, but it’s apart of our mindset.”

“So you are embarrassed having my name on your arm because it will bring ridicule, is what you are saying?”

“Can you honestly say it won’t? Even if it’s meant harmlessly?”

“I cannot remove the mark, Dean.”

The hunter shook his head. “I’m not worried about that, Cas. I’m not ashamed of you, and you asked for my permission first and I said ‘yes’. As long as it’s not tattooed on my forehead, we’re okay. It’s just weird. Part of my brain is freaking out because it knows I am going to get mocked for this. For two, this runs a high risk of making me look weak to others now, like saying I’m the girl, the submissive one, the weak one, the one who has to be protected in the relationship. Not to mention, but do we really need to give your siblings another reason to be pissed off at either of us? Seriously? Forget me for a second, think how this could come back to bite you.” His eyes played over the other man’s face. “Does this make sense to you?”

“Yes.”

Dean nodded, glancing down to regard his arm again. “It’s not a big deal, really, I guess I was hoping for a heads up or something, but I get this is new to you, too, and at least it looks kinda cool.” He glanced up to see the reserved expression still on the angel’s face. “It’s really cool, actually,” he amended. “I officially have a partner in crime who has my back in any situation. You and I? We are badasses, is what it says.” A relieved sigh escaped him as the rest of the tension left Castiel’s body. “Do you have a mark on you?”

The angel blinked, looking down at himself. “I do not know. I’ve never had reason to examine my vessel’s body.”

Dean hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Well… go to the bathroom and check or something.”

“And if there isn’t?”

Stumped, the hunter considered this for a moment. “If not, well then, I guess we can get you a tattoo if you want.” He folded his arms. “Sam and I talked about throwing the idea at you, getting you an anti-possession tat as a sort of ‘welcome to the family’ thing, but the opportunity never really came up. If there isn’t a mark, and you want one, we’ll get you one, no big deal.” He shrugged.

“So explain what you meant about the world ending,” stated Dean from his position under the Impala changing the oil. He glanced over to watch Gabbie’s foot bounce where she sat on a crate. Sam’s feet were near the porch stairs, and angle his head though he might, Dean didn’t see Cas’s shoes even though he knew he was there somewhere. “You dropped the bomb then poofed out last time. We still have other people we need to inform, y’know, along with details like ‘how’ and ‘how to avoid’.”

“Not to mention,” interjected Sam, “we’ve already saved the world and stopped the Big Bad multiple times. Don’t we get a pass on saving the world this time?”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “What’s so great about the Winchesters people keep coming to us with their problems?”

“Well you are the only ones that have ‘saving the world’ tucked under your belt, now aren’t you?” she argued. She’d magicked herself a cherry Popsicle and was happily licking and sucking away at it. Dean had noticed that earlier. Where her father had a penchant for anything sweet, she liked anything cherry. “Besides, I never do anything for free. If you want me to tell you something, you have to tell me something first.”

“Shoot,” he told her.

“What’s the glowing mark and tattoo on your arm and chest mean?”

“You can’t read it?” Dean knew the glow what something only angels could see, centered over his heart and where the sigil was actually located. Hell if he knew what it looked like though. “You’re an archangel, aren’t you?”

“Half archangel.”

“You found out what it means?” questioned Sam, moving closer to the car. Dean glanced around real quick for the sight of Cas’s shoes, but still didn’t see them, instead he reached for the tray he had nearby and exchanged one tool for another.

“Of course I know what it means, Sam. It’s on my arm and I agreed to having it there. Says I’m Cas’s work wife.” He was pretty sure from the sounds that followed that both Gabbie and Sam choked on whatever they’d been eating or drinking that moment. It made him smirk. “It basically says I’ve got an angel watching my back, that he’s a ‘smite first, don’t even bother with questions’ kind of guy, and that it’s in your best interest to not even mess with me unless you want to see the wrath of God put to shame. But in Enochian, so it’s written in, like, shorthand or something.”

He felt Cas’s amusement wash over him and knew without a doubt the angel was definitely standing somewhere near by. The amusement was mixed with a sense of pride and affection, too, which only made Dean feel the same way in return, like they were having some secret bonding moment even with others nearby. Maybe that was part of what made him feel more affection towards the angel was that he could express what he thought or felt without actually having to express anything, they both just sort of knew.

“Since I can’t inscribe a rune in Cas’s ribs like he can mine, we thought about just writing ‘Dean was here’ in permanent marker somewhere on him. What do you think, Sam? Somewhere on his arm like mine? Stamping it to his forehead might make him look a little silly, so don’t even suggest it, and nowhere obscene either. He’s an angel, remember.”

“Where we have our tattoos would be a good spot, I guess,” suggested Sam, clearly not sure if he was being messed with, but deciding to go with it anyway. “We’d talked about getting him his own anyway.”

“Pretty much everyone we meet and become friends with needs to start getting these tattoos and charms, man,” griped Dean as he thought about it. “That way they can’t be used against us. God knows I got Lisa her own and made certain Ben had protectives until he’s old enough to get a tat.” Dean frowned when he felt Cas flare with annoyance, though he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like someone else had shown up. “So, Gabbie! World ending? You were filling us in on it?”

She was a fidgetter. Constantly moving some part of her body, usually her feet. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if that was something she’d inherited from her father as well. God only knew who her mother was, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask. Way it sounded, she was conceived out of necessity rather than love, not to mention, all the info he had on her he’d learned from Becky, so he wasn’t going to go asking about things she hadn’t even told him.

She clicked her heels together, then bounced the one foot. “Well, I don’t actually know any specifics. I’ve just seen the signs. God’s chosen people have vanished off the face of the earth without a trace. That’s a bad sign.”

“So, what? He just leaves the rest of us here without a clue and hopes for the best? Why does he never stop the Big Bad himself? He is God, I would point out.”

“I’ve never met my grandfather, so I really couldn’t say.” And again, the weirdness that they all saw each other like actual family was just bizarre. God was God, an entity in Dean’s mind that was more like the massive monument of Abraham Lincoln, but not like an actual living, breathing person. To the angels, he was their father, their figurehead, the one that guided their massively large and hugely screwed up family and kept order. Gabriel had a child and raised that child with the common family archetype, his father was her grandfather. “My dad use to explain it to me that Grandpa likes for his kids to do things for themselves. If he took care of everything and always made everything right, it makes people spoiled. When the world is in danger and he does nothing, it’s because he wants us to fight for it, because it should matter to us rather than just to him.”

Sliding out from under the car, Dean shoved himself to his feet, knocking dust and dirt away. “Just because I can see where that makes some kind of sense, doesn’t mean I have to like it any.” Snatching up a rag, he tried to wipe away the grease and oil smeared across his hands. There would be more later regardless.

“Grandpa probably doesn’t like that everyone thinks they’re entitled to Him just making everything right in their lives, either. You have to meet Him halfway on things.”

An affectionate smile graced Castiel’s lips as he regarded Gabbie, their eyes meeting. “He’ll provide the resources and tools, but we must fight the battle.”

A crooked smile and she shrugged. “Hey, He could leave us empty handed, but He never does.”

The way they smiled at each other was like watching a sudden kinsmanship blossom. In that moment, they connected, as angels, as siblings, as family. It was sweet, actually, making Dean happy for Cas. If anyone deserved friends and family who would do right by him, or just goodness in general, it was Castiel.

“That doesn’t really help us out any though,” pointed out Sam. He scratched his head and made a helpless gesture. “Something bad prompted God to remove the prophets from the playing field. Okay. What? When will the threat be here? How much time does that leave us to assemble and outfit the warriors?”

“I might have a tiny bit of information on one of those at least,” a voice offered. They all turned to regard Crowley. He stood a distance away, hands in the pockets of his expensive and personally tailored suit. “Rumors, really.”

The Winchesters met gazes then flicked their attention back to the King of Hell. “Okay. What do you know and how much will it cost us?”

The demon shrugged lazily. “If you take care of the problem, I say it’s an even transaction. If you don’t, we’ll all be dead anyway and there will be no reason to worry about an unpaid invoice.”

“Cheery,” quipped Dean. “What is it?”

Angling his head, he let his gaze travel over each person before finally coming full circle to land on Dean. “What do you know about Purgatory?”

Yes, that is much like finding out a nightmare is reality. Déjà vu to the fullest and just as much fear that everything is going to blowup in your face and destroy everything you hold dear. He looked at Cas in a panic, the angel stared back, brows knitting in confusion. He knew Dean was suddenly afraid, but did not know why. Dean wasn’t afraid. Dean was ready to freak out in full on panic.

“Purgatory is the place where souls gather, it’s where the earliest forms of creatures like werewolves, vampires, etc. their alphas, their originals, along with things called Leviathans,” He swallowed thickly, hearing the way his voice cracked as he answered. “All the really bad stuff, the things that make up our nightmares, the things that make Hell look like a child’s playground…They’re all in Purgatory.”

Sam looked at him in true surprise. “Wow, Dean. Where did you learn that?”

He didn’t look away from the King of Hell. “I read it in a book.”

Crowley winked at him. “And a gold star for the elder brother here. Very good.” He sauntered forward, hands clasped together as he mulled over his words like a man attempting a business venture. “Word is… there’s a sort of leak in the wall that keeps them all locked up. Things are getting out. One here. One there. Nasty little buggers, the lot of them. And that’s just the monsters, that’s not including the threat of all those souls unleashed, what would happen if they fell into the wrong hands, how much power that could grant, the risk that would be taken in trying to harness that power.” His gaze flicked up to regard each of them seriously as he spoke. “If that wall breaks, and all those monsters and souls are unleashed… your little angel apocalypse is going to look like tea and cookies by comparison. They will destroy this world, Heaven, and Hell, and I don’t even know what will become of them after that because even when everything else is destroyed, they will still continue to exist, creating their very own Hell dimension.”

“How do we fix the wall?” demanded Sam. Bobby had come out and stood on the porch next to Castiel, everyone wearing matching grim expressions. “How do we keep them from getting free?”

Clicking his tongue, Crowley rolled his shoulders and slid his hands into his pockets again with a shrug. “Couldn’t say.”

Dean choked. “C-couldn’t say?” He surged forward an angry step. “You show up, tell us everything is about to burn to the ground, and then that you don’t even know how to fix it?”

The older man eyed him with disinterest, brow arching slightly. “I told you: I’ve only heard rumors. Perhaps I’ve come across a beastie or two, apparently from Purgatory, but good luck getting them to talk on how they cross over and where.”

Then he was gone and Dean was throwing a wrench furiously at empty air. Head angled to the side, Gabriella pursed her lips, popsicle forgotten and dripping by her foot.

“Well,” she said, straightening and rising quickly to her feet. “I guess that’s my cue.”

Then she was gone, too.

“Wha-? Wait! Gabbie!” yelled Sam, then angrily, “Gabriella!”

Grumbling, Bobby adjusted his cap, shaking his head and turning to go back inside. “Like father, like daughter. We’ve got work to do, boys.”

Wearing his patented bitch face, Sam looked ready to punch something, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth and shifted with restless energy, hand clenching and unclenching by his side.

As they turned to go inside, Dean grabbed Cas by the elbow, pulling him back as the angel glanced at him curiously. Dean was already dragging him away, growling, “I need to speak to you. Now.”

“Wha-? Dean!” exclaimed Sam, indignant.

“We’ll be there in a minute!” he snapped back, not even sparing his brother a glance as he hauled the angel away.

They were on the other side of the salvage yard and surrounded by corroded and ruined cars before either one of them spoke.

“Dean,” ventured Cas softly. “What’s wrong? You’re in a panic.”

The hunter had already released him and now paced furiously, fingers raking through his hair and then gripping his head.

“I can’t do this. I can’t.” He looked up at his friend beseechingly, with the desperation of a man facing the impossible, the inconceivably cruel. “I cannot go through this, Cas, it’ll kill me.”

The angel shook his head, frowning and brows knitting together as he tried to ascertain what he’d missed that had Dean so afraid. “I don’t understand, Dean. You aren’t making sense.” He shook his head. “Fighting another apocalypse? Is that what you are afraid of? Dean, you have done it before, you have allies-“

“No, dude! It isn’t that. Screw the apocalypse!” he yelled. He turned demandingly to the angel. “Do you know what I know about purgatory? About alphas? About all the damn souls IN purgatory and what happens if someone absorbs them? About who tries to harness that power?” he surged forward to grab the front of Cas’s jacket. “It’s bad freaking news, that’s what I know! You and I end up no longer being friends in the middle of it, in fact, you turn into the bad guy!”

The angel was shaking his head in confused denial. “Dean, I-“

“In your desperation to save the world, you join forces with Crowley to tap into Purgatory and withdraw all the souls, splitting the power fifty-fifty in order to keep another threat from absorbing that power. You lie to me, consort with Crowley, then double-cross him and absorb all the souls in yourself even though I beg you not to. I beg you, and you do it anyway! Then those souls have you tripping on power and you turn around and totally put Lucifer to shame by declaring yourself the new God and that everyone submit to your power and show their love for you! Hell, we even try to stop you using an angel blade and it doesn’t do a damn thing, you just go around smiting the unjust and slaying angels like some kind of wrathful force until the Leviathans totally take over your body, and…” Anger and panic gave way to fear and grief, his eyes pricking as he recalled the images of his friend during his fall and then death.

Dean shoved away from Castiel, wiping a hand over his face and trying hard to compose himself, tilting his head back to stare at the sky and blinking back the moisture he refused to allow to fall.

“In your desperation for time to open the door and absorb the souls, you break my brother's mind, promising you’ll fix it later, so damn confident that what you are doing is right, regardless of who you were hurting in the process. But you don’t fix him, Sam’s mind is suddenly Lucifer’s playground, and he’s Sam’s constant companion. As if that weren’t bad enough, you come to your senses too late, man.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, blinking back more tears, and shaking his head. “You die, Cas. Horribly.” He turned to look at the angel, shaking his head stubbornly again. “I can’t go through that. I won’t. I can’t watch my baby brother suffer any more than he already has, and I definitely can’t watch you go dark side and then die because we couldn’t save you. I’ve lost too much; I can’t lose you, too, Cas. I just can’t. It would destroy me.”

“Dean…”

“Dude, why the hell do you think I was so freaked out when I originally called you? You thought I was tripping on acid asking about the war in heaven that wasn’t, but if monsters from purgatory are slipping through into our world and the dam is threatening to break then those books aren’t all garbage, at least parts of it are true and we have a big fucking problem on our hands and-“

His words were cut off as Cas stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him with a soft sound Dean took to be soothing. He hugged the angel back tightly, brain still in full panic mode because even having read the books, he still had no freaking clue how to face down the problem in front of them. This was impossible. They were going to die and he was going to have to watch as he lost every member of his family one at a time, and he knew he couldn’t handle that.

He could feel the way Castiel willed him to be calm, soothing sensations washing over him he fought fiercely against. He didn’t want to be calm, he wanted to be freaked out and angry, it seemed like a better tool to use against what they were facing rather than calm and collected demeanor. But his parabatai wrapped all around him, the flutter of wings filling his ears as those black wings reared and cocooned around them, sheltering them.

“Dean, I will never betray you,” whispered the angel. The hunter squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he was losing what control he had. “I will always protect you and your brother to the best of my ability until I am no longer able. We are family now. Family is everything, and not something you walk out on.”

Releasing him enough to pull back and look at the angel, Dean shook his head, hearing the tears in his own voice. “I can’t go through this,” he repeated. “I can’t.”

Blue eyes searching his face, Cas raised his hands to cup Dean’s jaw in his hands, stopping the blatant denial. A shadow of a smile tugged at the corner of the angel’s mouth. “You won’t have to go through it alone.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten

“Oh look,” drawled Dean as he and Cas entered the kitchen. Meg and Crowley both glanced up curiously from their opposite corners of the room. Sam and Bobby appeared to be trying their best to ignore their existence. “My favorite demons in one room together.” He glanced around as though looking for something. “What? No bloodshed between you yet? Tsk. Tsk.”

Meg rolled her eyes. Cas moved to stand by Dean’s side. “It is most out of character of them,” he agreed.

The hunter nodded. “Angel boy has a point. For the sake of sanity and lack of an identity crisis later on, I highly suggest the two of you fight to the death-“

“Somewhere other,” interjected Bobby gruffly.

“-somewhere not in this house, or even this state, truth be told. This is a rare opportunity the two of you have been offered. You should really take advantage of it. We’ll be just fine without you.”

“We’ve got a celebratory keg waiting to be cracked open,” added Sam, not looking up from where he sat on the couch with a massive book, “in the event of your deaths.” He glanced up. “My goal is to not even remember most of my celebrating.”

“So a keg for you and another for me then, huh, little brother?” Dean asked, grinning.

“In the sake of fairness,” began Cas, nudging him gently so that the hunter met his gaze, “We should all have our own keg.” He smirked, blue eyes actually playful as they swept over to where Bobby was. “Unless, of course, Bobby feels he is not up to the challenge.”

The old hunter glared and waved him off. “I am not having a drinking contest against an angel. Just gimme a twelve-pack and put me to bed.”

“While this enlightening conversation is life changing to witness,” snarled Meg, daring take her eyes off of Crowley only long enough to glare at Dean and Castiel, “We do have more pressing matters at hand, boys.”

“How do they even keep getting in the house?” wondered Dean, completely ignoring her.

“We’ve been trapped in one or another devil trap in this house so often, we know where it’s safe to stand without getting caught,” offered Crowley.

Dean pointed purposefully at his brother. “You hear that? Weekend project. Demon proof every inch of the house.” He crossed his arms with a shudder. “God only knows what disgusting creatures can just come and go as they please.” Meg scoffed and rolled her eyes again. “Speaking of, what brings you here when you just ‘poofed’ out, Crowley? Excellent timing to show when Lucifer’s number one fangirl is present as well.”

Taking a drink from his scotch glass, the King of Hell shook his head. “Oh no, not timing.” His eyes slid over to the demon opposite him, a grin stretching slowly across his mouth. “I went to get her and brought her with me, didn’t I, dearest?”

Brows raised in surprise, Dean let his gaze flick to the demoness shifting uncomfortably. “Did he now? Thought you were in hiding didn’t you, clever little bitch that you are?” She flipped him off; he scrunched his nose and shook his head. “Sorry, don’t like you that much. I do have some standards, you know.” His gaze flicked at his brother who was giving him a warning ‘don’t even go there look’, but seriously, how was he to resist when material presented itself like that? He was Dean Winchester, after all. “What about you, Sammy? Demons are more your thing, right?”

The younger Winchester shot him an annoyed look, even while an amused smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

Scoffing, Dean rolled his eyes. “You dated a demon, dude. One who was wearing a corpse. I don’t ever wanna hear about my taste in chicks ever again.”

“Especially now that you seem to be showing a preference in dick,” she snapped.

Dean shot her on principle. She looked down at her chest indignantly, then glared furiously at the hunter still holding the gun. He tucked it back in the waistband of his pants.

“Watch your mouth, bitch.” Insulting him was one thing, but nobody talked about his family or friends like that and got away with it.

Crowley chuckled into his drink. “Saw that coming.”

Humor vanished, Dean moved to lean against the doorframe that connected the two rooms. Castiel moved to take a seat on the edge of the kitchen table, making certain everyone was in front of him. “Seriously,” began Dean, “why are ya’ll here?”

“For the sake of mutual interest,” supplied the other man. “I need the world kept in the same condition it’s in, you understand, for the sake of continuing business.” He nodded to the female in the room. “She’s crafty. If she can prove useful, I can tolerate her existence long enough to see the world saved once again. If not?” He shrugged and left the question unanswered.

Dean noted the way Meg swallowed and tightened the arms crossed protectively over her chest. He glanced back at the other man, wondering what had happened that had her so scared of him. Not that Dean trusted him any further than he could throw him, but the demon had never made Dean shake in his boots the way he did the other demons, so clearly, there were details about his rule the Winchesters were far from aware of.

His gaze flicked back to Meg. Not that she could be tortured into fearing someone. Girl got off on getting tortured as well as torturing someone. Trying to imagine what might scare her, scared him.

“The increase in numbers is to our advantage, boys,” drawled Crowley, causing everyone to glance at him again. “This mess with Purgatory… well, it’s best resolved quickly. I’m willing to cut a deal with even my enemies for their cooperation on this one task. A contract.”

“Demons don’t make deals with other demons,” stated Sam with a frown, yet intrigued.

“Don’t doesn’t mean ‘can’t’,” argued Crowley, smirking at Meg. “I am here to cooperate. She will as well, whether she wants to or not. Now,” he smiled at Dean, “let’s all be friends, shall we?”

Sighing, Dean balanced the ringing phone on his knee and settled back into the couch while waiting for the person to answer on the other end.

He’d let his head fall back and wiped a hand over his eyes when Becky finally did answer. “Hello?”

“Becky? Dean.” He sighed. “I’m guessing you’ve had enough time to get fully organized over there. Need your help. We’re going to need allies soon, are there any characters in the books after Swan Song that are in Chuck’s notes as being actual people?”

He heard her shuffling around, drawers being pulled open and files thumbed through. “Plenty. What are you looking for? Humans, hunters, psychics, angels, prophets, or monsters?”

Sam’s eyebrows went up in surprise as he regarded the phone. Dean said, “I need allies, Becky. I don’t care what they are.”

“Wall to Purgatory breaking down already then?”

“I really am going to have to read those books,” stated Sam with a shake of his head.

Glaring at him, Dean shook his head. “No, you really don’t want to. It would be traumatic. And inaccurate.” The elder brother glanced down at the phone as Castiel shifted closer, regarding it curiously. “A head’s up on the coming apocalypse would have been helpful, Becky. I don’t need a play-by-play for everyday life, but seriously. World being thrown in danger? You warn a person.”

“You never warn me,” she argued distractedly, more papers shuffling. “But being a civvie, I guess doesn’t earn me the right to such knowledge. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose. Okay, let’s see. Angels would probably be the most helpful. There’s Gabriel-“

“Gabriel is dead,” Sam stated. “We need allies still among the living, Becky.”

“Gabriel is MIA,” she argued.

All three hunters looked at Castiel, who was shaking his head. “You are misinformed, Becky. Gabriel is dead.”

“Oh hi, Cas!” she chirped. “I didn’t know you were there for this conference call.”

“Hello. And, yes, I am.”

“Hate to break it to you, but Gabriel isn’t dead,” she continued. “MIA, per God. If it makes you feel better, it wasn’t his idea. He didn’t know about it. When he was on the brink of death, God threw him somewhere safe until a time came when he might be needed.”

“Where?” they all asked in unison.

“File doesn’t say. I read you everything on the subject. There’s also Balthazar.”

“Balthazar exist?” squawked Dean, sitting up straighter and remembering the angel that Dean was actually really grateful had never gone dark side. Or joined forces with Gabriel. They could have taken over the world if they did.

Cas gave him a startled look, then shifted that confused expression to the phone. “Balthazar is also dead.”

Dean waved him off. “Yeah, and you mourned his death because he was your friend. If he’s real and not fictional, then homeboy is deep in hiding and faked his own death. Right, Becky?”

“Point for the Winchester,” she agreed. “Though his going into hiding was not for the selfish reasons the books portrayed. It was on orders from God.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Cas said finally, shaking his head.

“Well, it went something like this,” a voice offered. They all turned in surprise to see Balthazar stretched across the threadbare couch, examining the nails on one hand while holding a glass of wine in the other. “I was secretly in special ops, after a particular mission in which case I was the only survivor, Dad sent me deep, deep under cover until he needed me again. I had worked from the shadows, and then I needed to no longer exist for the sake of safety.” He lifted his gaze to smile at his stunned friend, looking a tad sheepish and fond all in one. “Hello, Cassie. It’s good to see you again.”

“Hi, Balth!”

The angel’s gaze flicked the phone balanced on Dean’s knee. “Hello, Becky. How are you, dear?”

“Whoa!” barked Sam, pushing himself to his feet indignantly. Bobby continued to keep his mouth shut, sitting back to watch it all unfold with a disapproving expression. “You know each other?”

“Nope,” she stated.

“What she said,” agreed the angel. “But I know of her, each of you, and the people in connection to each of you.”

“Becky, how much of those stupid books is true?” demanded Dean.

“Not enough to be considered accurate,” she supplied. “Everything was taken out of context, really. People are real. Places. Just the majority of what happens is BS or inaccurate.”

Balthazar rose gracefully to his feet as the other angel crossed the room to confront him. Dean fought the urge to rise to his feet, green eyes nervously glancing between the angelic beings. Cas looked calm on the exterior, but through their link, Dean could feel the onslaught of conflicting emotions. His friend was awed, confused, hurt, angry, thrilled, relieved, and distrustful.

“I mourned your death, Balthazar,” stated Cas softly. The other angel looked down guiltily. “You were my friend, not just my brother. You took me under your wing and taught me so much; you made me a better soldier, a better angel. I grieved for you.”

The older man’s gaze flicked up to meet his. “I know, friend. I so hated to put you through that, but… well, orders are orders, Cassie. As much as it hurt me to inflict that pain on you, to let you know the truth would have only endangered you. You were not prepared to defend yourself against such a threat.”

“And now?”

The other angel sucked in a deep breath, glass disappearing with a flourish of his hand as he spun away. “Ah, yes, now. Well, Dad called me back on the playing field, obviously. I knew he’d only bother if it were for something truly worrisome, but this…” He sighed and shook his head.

“What?” demanded Dean. “When the angels were attempting their apocalypse, that wasn’t enough for God to man the troupes and put a stop to it? He waits till the wall to Purgatory is about to blow before he sends in someone to stop it?”

An amused, condescending look passed over Balthazar’s face as he turned, hand on narrow hips. “Oh, you have it wrong. I’m not here to help with the wall.”

“You’re not going to help?”

The other man shook his head. “No, I’m not. I don’t get involved unless ordered, and if you think I ought to because it’s the right thing or… whatever, well then you have me confused with that other angel. Y’know, the one in the dirty trench coat who’s in love with you.” Dean blinked with a start at the familiar words. Okay, clearly there was a list of quotes or something Chuck had at least written down that the freelance writers had all pulled from. “Speaking of,” Balthazar’s gaze flicked over to the other angel, disregarding Dean as the hunter and his brother exchanged disbelieving and incredulous looks, “Cassie, what on our Father’s green earth are you wearing? It’s awful! Your vessel has no taste in clothing. Why haven’t you remedied it? And that coat!”

“I like this coat,” growled Cas, looking none too amused.

“I should probably say ‘good-bye’ now, Dean, while I still have a chance,” voiced Becky through the phone. “Call me first chance you get later on, okay?”

He frowned at the phone. “Wha-? Yeah, okay, bye, Becks.” He said the nickname without thinking, only realizing it when he her heard gasp in surprise just as the phone clicked off. Whatever. He stood angrily to his feet. “What do you mean you aren’t here to help?”

The angel snapped his fingers and a series of duffel bags appeared on the couch- their duffel bags- and he began rummaging through them. Sam’s bag of clothes. Weapons. Dean’s bag.

“Good, good,” he was saying. “Well, see, I’m here on orders, obviously, or else I wouldn’t be here at all.” He straightened and snapped his fingers and the weapons bag vanished. “That will probably only get you in trouble. Cassie, I don’t suppose you have a bag do you? No, I didn’t think so. You’ll have to make due then. See, I’m not here to help with the wall, I’m here on damage control and protection detail for another angle Dad has decided to work.” He tossed each of the Winchester’s their bags as easily as they were empty. “Hold onto those, will you? Sam, go stand by Castiel for a moment. Dean, you too.”

“Protection detail?” echoed Dean, moving to stand next to Cas, as his brother did the same, all wearing matching expressions of confusion. “Protection for who?”

“Ah, for whom,” Balthazar corrected as he moved over to the desk, shooing Bobby out of his way. With a snap of his fingers, an arrangement of ingredients and bowls appeared in front of him. “That is proof of your fine education, though, I suppose. What with high school and years of further educa-“ He faltered, looking up at Dean in surprise. “Oh, no I guess it wouldn’t be considering you couldn’t even make it through basic schooling.” He flashed a smile and went back to work. “See, my father plans on releasing my brothers, Michael and Lucifer-“ He looked up again, frowning. “I believe you met them, right?” He busied himself with ingredients and bowls once more, mixing, grinding, and pouring at a rapid pace. “Well, he plans on releasing them from the cage they are currently locked in-“

“He what?!” they all demanded, horrified, afraid, panicked.

Balthazar looked up with raised brows, pointing at them. “See? That was my reaction.” He went back to work, disregarding their panicked expressions. “Actually, it was all the angels’ assigned reactions. Dad assures us he knows exactly what he’s doing and that it’ll be alright. Me, well, he’ll have to forgive me if I’m still a little apprehensive, which is why we’re moving the three of you to a safe house. You’ll be hidden and protected there if something goes wrong.”

“If you release Lucifer and Michael ain’t nobody safe!” growled Dean.

“Which is why- as a precautionary measure, in the event this doesn’t go as smoothly as planned- we are sending you a distance away to Savannah,” he assured them, rounding the desk with bowl in hand. Sam and Dean were giving each other panicked looks. It didn’t matter where on the planet they were; if Michael and Lucifer got free, the first thing they would do would be to seek out their true vessels. Balthazar stopped when he got to them, pushing Sam a little closer where Cas stood, then depositing the powder he’d made in a circle around them. “When you get there, her door is the one on bottom. She won’t trust you at first, but remind her of her calling to take up banner and sword for others and she should take you in. If not, you’ll have to convince her; I don’t envy you that at all.” Standing back, he regarded his handiwork with a series of nods, while they looked at the orange-pink circle around them warily. “Cassie.” The angel looked up at the sound of his nickname, finding his friend regarding him seriously, but also with a touch of remorse, making all of them increasingly worried. “If it comes down to it: leave them and save yourself.”

Dean felt the angel straighten indignantly. He brushed a hand against the angel’s, just a bare touching of his knuckles to the back of the other man’s hand reassuringly. Part of him had wanted to take the angel’s hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, God only knew why, because it wasn’t an action he was accustomed to, but oh did he want to.

“I will do no such thing,” stated Cas, not nearly as bristled as he’d initially been. Dean could feel his silent assurances that he was okay, for Dean not to worry, topped with more assurances that backed his words.

Sighing, Balthazar gave him a pitying look. “Then make sure the three of you stay safe. Now go.”

Dean frowned, baffled. “Go? Go where?”

The angel sucked in a deep breath and suddenly insight came on Dean like being hit by a train. He swore. It must have been out loud because Cas and Sam both looked at him in question, but there was no time to react or even say anything because Balthazar had placed his heels together down by his side and then shoved them forward, palms toward the trio as he was yelling that one word at them and an invisible force was sending all three of them flying backwards, head over heels, but rather than crashing into the table and cabinets in Bobby’s kitchen, they were suddenly outside, landing painfully hard and sliding on gravel and rock.

Sam laying coughing on his side, then groaning as he tried to pushing himself up with one hand. A rock with a sharp corner dug painfully into Dean’s back and he wondered how hard his hit his head in landing to make the sky and trees overhead spin and sway like they were. Then Cas’s worried face filled his vision, asking him if he was okay and if he could move.

Then Dean was up in a panic, not even bothering to check himself for injuries as he took in their surroundings, thrown by the unexpectedness of it. This… wasn’t what he’d thought they’d find. They were behind a building with peeling paint, what looked like a house actually, except for the stairs leading to the second floor and two separate doors. It had to have once been a house. He spun around wildly, looking. What was the parking lot would have once been a back yard just the right size. There were houses on either side of the fence, and even backing up to the property was another yard, the driveway off to the side leading toward the street.

“Dean,” Cas called softly, looking around for a threat. “What is it?”

Sam looked around wonderingly. “Where are we?”

“Nowhere I was expecting,” he admitted. It was hot here, for one. Humid. The sky was perfect blue overhead where it could be seen through the canopy of trees, a couple of southern oaks and a magnolia were the only trees he could identify. “Cas?”

The angel shook his head. “We are still in the United States, if that is what you are asking. I have never been here myself. It…” He glanced around. “It feels… somehow different.”

Picking up and dusting off their bags, Sam held out his brother’s. “Well… should we go find, er, Savannah?” His eyes flicked to each of their faces. They both shook their heads. Hell, for all they knew Savannah was where they were, not who they were looking for. Those eyes moved past them to the building.

Dean followed the movement, glancing back and forth between the two bottom doors. “Well, he said her’s was on bottom.” He glanced at the gravel parking lot. Four doors, three cars, two doors on the bottom floor. He turned back, wondering if she was even home. Both Cas and Sam pointed simultaneously to the same apartment door. Dean frowned. “What makes you pick that one?”

“The wind chime has sunflowers and there’s a large potted gardenia, plus the framed stained glass art hanging in the window. Chances are, a girl lives in that one,” deduced Sam.

Castiel simply shrugged. “The aura radiating from that house is special. It actually resonates. There is nothing coming from the other dwellings.”

“She could be into Hoo-doo for all we know,” argued Dean. “The radiating aura could be from bad juju!” They both gave him different looks of incredulousness and impatience, causing him to sigh and shoulder his bag, turning back toward the house. “Mystery door number one it is then.”

They followed in a line around the stairs and then up onto her back porch, Sam and Dean glancing at each other as to who would have to knock, Sam rolling his eyes and raising his fist to do it-

Just as the door flew wide open and a blonde with tanned skin looked out at them in surprise, brown eyes flicking to each of their faces in shock.

“Oh,” she sighed. “Epically bad timing is epically bad.” There was a bluehill dog looking out at them from just behind her. They all glanced uncertainly at each other, not sure what to make of her words. Taking a deep breath, she straightened, keeping one hand on the door, the other adjusting the shoulder bag she carried, clearly having been caught dashing out the door. “Okay, I’ll bite: how can I help you?”

Dean let his gaze roam over her. Early twenties, straight blonde hair so light he’d have dared call it white, deep golden brown skin from many hours in the sun, sun freckles across her shoulders as further proof. She wore a tank top and khaki shorts with flip flops, and was maybe a hundred and twenty pounds. There was no way he was going to feel safe if this was the supposed safe house. Her toe nails were painted black and she wore a silver anklet of dolphins for crying out loud.

Clearing his throat, Sam tried to school his features into something more politely confused and inquiring. “Um, hi. Sorry if we caught you at a bad time. Uh, are you Savannah?”

She arched a brow, absently reaching down to pet the dog’s head as it moved to lean against her leg. “Savvy.” Sam frowned in confusion and the corner of her mouth twitched up in amusement even while she continued to eye them all suspiciously. She had a hard look to her face when she was distrustful; it made Dean think she might not be as soft as he originally took her for. “No one calls me Savannah. My name is ‘Sav’ or ‘Savvy’.”

“Oh. Uh, o-okay. Savvy,” Sam repeated, trying it for himself. She gave a single nod. He continued, motioning to both the men with him. “Um, look, we were sent here and told you could help us, t-that you, uh…”

He looked at his brother at a loss while she looked no closer to opening her door to them or even having been expecting them. Dean shifted closer on the small back porch. “We were told your place was a safe house and that we needed to lie low here for a while. We didn’t come here voluntarily.”

At that point, Dean was seriously wondering if they had the wrong place because she so clearly did not trust any of them, and no, she was not expecting them nor happy to see them. Her narrowed, distrustful gaze flicked to each of their face, her jaw jutted to the side and mouth pursed as she clearly gauged the situation.

Finally, she demanded, “Am I being punked?”

“Wha-?”

“Because if I am, let me tell you, it’s not funny. Cruel jokes like that are never funny, and pulling a stunt like that on me will not end well, because I don’t have the good graces for that foolishness. I just get royally pissed off. So before we continue this dog and pony show, lemme give you the chance to shoot straight with me, because if you are punking me, I swear to God, I will personally ruin each of your careers, are we clear?”

Dean had barely understood a word she said, but even still, he suddenly feared her a little bit. It was like he’d done something seriously wrong and all the wrath of hell was about to be unleashed by this slip of a girl, and he didn’t have the slightest clue how to correct whatever mistake he’d made.

Cas clearly had no idea what she’d even just said either, and continued to watch with the intrigued, head angled to the side confused look he did when he didn’t understand something. Seeking backup and support, Sam glanced at his brother who just shook his head and shrugged at a loss, earning a scowl from the taller Winchester. The younger sibling turned back to the girl.

“Um, no, you aren’t being punked. I’m Sam. Sam Winchester. This is my brother Dean and-“

“I know who you are,” she interrupted, still glaring. “I just don’t know why you’re here other than to attempt making a fool of one girl you really ought not to.”

They all shared a look again, each at a loss, before Sam turned back to her beseechingly. “We were told you could help us, and to remind you of your calling to take up banner and sword for the sake of others.” Anger was replaced with slack-jawed surprise, brows shooting up. Bravely, Sam ventured, “We were also told that if you still don’t believe us, we’d have to convince you some other way, but I don’t know how, so anything that might convince you…”

She stepped aside, entire demeanor suddenly softer, even puzzled. “Come in,” she invited, before snapping her fingers at the dog and pointing further into the apartment. “Harley, go lay down.”

The dog did as instructed as they filed into her small kitchen and then to stand awkwardly in her dining room. Her room and bathroom were off of that, with the living room still further in. She shut the door behind her, arms folded as she regarded them in confusion, before finally shaking her head and throwing up a hand. “I’m sorry. Please explain to me again why you’re here?”

“Basically,” Cas stated, “we were told you could protect us and offer us sanctuary.”

She made a noise, a mix between a scoff and a laugh. “Me?” She did laugh, this time in disbelief, the sound dying off as each of them nodded. She seemed just as confused as they were.“I’m sorry. What problem could possibly exist that the Winchesters and an Angel of the Lord can’t handle, yet ya’ll think I’d somehow be of help?”

“You do know who we are,” Sam stated in surprise. She frowned, brows drawing together in confusion as to why this surprised him. “But you weren’t expecting us.” She shook her head with another snort of laughter. “Are you a prophet?”

This time, she did laugh, a smile on her lips. “Most definitely not.”

“Well, then, you’ve read the books,” Dean surmised.

Her brown eyes shifted to him, ascertaining again, as if wondering once more if they were playing some sort of prank on her. “No… No, I haven’t.”

Now all four of them were looking at each other in confusion, the three of them versus her, both parties apparently equally confused by the other.

“How is it that you know who we are then,” asked Castiel.

Her gaze met his, holding for a long moment before shifting uncertainly to each of the brothers. “Because I watch the show.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven

Sam stuttered over his words, “Y-you watch the show?” He looked panicked. “We’re a show?”

“So I was right,” stated Dean, surprised. They glanced at him as he continued, “When we didn’t end up on a TV set, I thought maybe it was more BS.” He faltered when she frowned at him, her head cocking to the side in confusion.

Sam was staring at him like he’d grown a set of horns. “You knew about this?”

“No, in the books, we end up on a the TV set for the show about our lives-“

“Supernatural,” Savvy supplied.

He nodded, continuing to explain to Sam, “People thought we were the actors and we were on the run from the Weapons Keeper of Heaven-“ Cas visibly winced at the thought. “-but it was really just a diversion we were used in by Cas and Balthazar without them telling us about it in order to buy them time to get to the weapons Balthazar stole or something. We should be in Vancouver or something not here.”

Savvy was nodding. “The French Mistake. It was a meant to make fun of Hollywood or something. Only parts were funny, like when Misha shoves the makeup artist, or basically any of his scenes, really. He was hilarious. And ya’ll trying to act.”

Dean’s gaze flicked to her. “The French Mistake. That was the title of the book.”

“No, that was the name of the episode,” she argued. “Are you saying that didn’t actually happen?”

“No. When Balthazar sent us… wherever, we ended up here.”

She shook her head. “That can’t be right. Season seven just ended. Balthazar sent you to an alternate reality back in season six. Ya’ll should be back home or something, unless the timeline is messed up and what’s in the episodes just hasn’t happened for ya’ll yet.”

Shaking his head, Sam wiped a hand over his face in denial. “I am so confused.” Cas nodded in agreement.

She ushered them towards the living room. “Go have a seat, we’ll get this summarized real quick so I can go.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got a little time.”

Harley was curled up on a dog bed in front of a book case filled with books, eyes flicking to the humans curiously as they entered the room. The forward motion came to a full stop as something caught Sam’s eye in the corner, and he pointed, flabbergasted.

“It’s… us!”

Dean followed his brother’s gaze to the collage hanging on the wall above a squat bookcase. At the center of the collage was a picture of the three of them, framed with pictures of enemies and friends alike, and then carefully arranged pictures and artwork in their likenesses. On top of the book case was a magazine with their pictures on it, along with two smaller books with Sam and Dean on the cover. They all looked back at her curiously.

“You have some sort of shrine to us?” squawked Dean in disbelief.

She rolled her eyes and shoved them forward. “Go sit on the couch and I will explain, and no, I do not have a shrine, moron.” As they moved to sit, she walked over, snatching the canvas sized mural off the wall and books up in one fell movement, coming back over to stand in front of them. She tossed the books and magazine to them with a warning they not bend the pages. “Okay, first off?” She pointed to the dog curled up. “Boys, Harley. Harley Quinn? Meet the boys. Be nice to them, Harley.” The dog gave a small woof of acknowledgement. “Good girl. Secondly, I do not have a shrine to the show or its characters. I make these, “she waggled the collage, “to supplement my income and sell them online to other fans. It started when I had the art supplies just not being used and a blank spot on my wall that really needed something hanging. It was my first collage, I really liked it, it fit my blank spot perfect, so I kept it. Those,” she pointed to the books, “I use to get pictures from. They’re image resources, my hard copies if you will. I make color copies of images and use them.”

While she returned the collage to its spot on the wall, all three of the males regarded the books in fascination.

“So we really are a TV show,” Sam said with a level of awe.

Dean looked up at the girl watching them patiently. “Do the actors all hate each other?”

She smirked and shook her head. “No, they get a long just fine from what I understand. I’m not overly involved in the fandom or anything, and I doubt anyone but their wives knows what they’re actually like. But they’re all really good friends.”

“We’re married?”

“The actors that portray you are.” Her smirk grew into a grin. “I know two of them are even fathers, though actually they all might be, I dunno.” She frowned at Cas. “What is it with you and having blond kids, by the way? Jimmy’s daughter was blonde and your son is blond, too. You’re hair’s dark, honey. I dunno what your wife looks like.” She frowned, correcting herself. “Er, Misha’s son and wife. And why am I asking you, you wouldn’t know.” Sighing, she shook her head. “God this is going to get confusing.”

“Not half as confusing as it is for us,” stated Sam, holding out the books for her to replace on their shelf.

“Fill me in on what’s going on, exactly, since apparently there is timeline confusion or something.” She frowned. “How is it that you don’t and yet do know about Supernatural being a show, but you’ve never lived through Balthazar throwing you to the Canadians?”

Filling her in was actually pretty easy because she knew them, their world, and their history. She nodded as Dean told her about reading the books, him calling Cas in order to stop the events she referred to as ‘season six’, how most of what was in the books was a load of BS as far as they could tell, and that this was the only time Balthazar had transported them anywhere, in fact, it was actually their first meeting with the angel. No, he didn’t unsink the Titanic and change history either- she seemed oddly disappointed by that, claiming it was a hysterical episode. Dean had read the book, he supposed looking back it really was pretty funny but at the time when he thought it was the future awaiting him, it hadn’t been the least bit funny at all.

She glanced at her watch. “Okay, so Dean, you read the books and basically know what I’ve seen in the show. Sam and Cas, you haven’t, so you don’t know anything in the books that happens after you jumped in the pit, all of which is basically made up anyway, but because the books and the show are linked, whatever got written in book form, ended up an episode, and now you’ve gotten Becky hired as the new writer to follow any notes Chuck had on ya’ll and continue writing decent story for you, got it. Why are you here though and how long will you be staying?”

“Balthazar sent us to you,” stated Castiel, causing her to glance at him. Her expression was softer when she looked at Cas, Dean noted, an unconscious smile tugging at the corner of her mouth when they spoke. Of the three, Cas was her favorite. “We don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

“Balth made sure we had our duffel bags though,” pointed out Dean. “So my guess is we’ll be here a little while.”

“My father is taking a most questionable course of action and as an extra safety precaution, we were sent here until they know for certain things are under control over there.”

“Not to mention,” added Sam, “there’s this whole mess with Purgatory we need to worry about and yet can’t from here.”

Her eyes snapped to the younger Winchester even as she indicated the angel. “Purgatory. Cas joins forces with Crowley to release the souls in order to win the war in Heaven against dick angel number one, Raphael. Cas double crosses Crowley, absorbs all the souls into himself, makes Raphael explode with a snap of his fingers, then declares himself the new God and orders all of you to bow down and show him your love,” she recalled in one long breath, then grinned, eyes flicking once to Dean. “In which case, upon Cas ordering Dean down onto his knees in an expression love, Sam insisted he and Bobby need not be there for that, and that they could just go.”

“What?!”

“That did not happen in the books!”

“I don’t understand.”

She cackled with delight, waving them all off. “I know, I know, I’m joking.” Dean and Sam lowered back down to sitting on the couch again. Sam still looked baffled while Dean seethed. “But seriously. Cas ordering ya’ll to kneel and show him your love for him? The jokes wrote themselves, really.”

The angel was shaking his head. “I would never do that. I-I would never-“

She gave him a smile. “Oh, I know, which is why we in the fanbase were totally freaking out watching that episode. I was practically screaming warnings about ‘pride goeth before a fall’ and all that and ‘wow! He totally just put Luci to shame!’ I mean, he tried to declare himself the new God and take over Heaven. You actually succeeded in one fell swoop. It was awesome and horrible all in one. Seriously, it made you, like, the new Satan. They’re gonna have to create a whole new level of hell just for you. Not that you should ever been condemned to Hell, by the way, Luci’s reasons were completely different from yours.”

Sam frowned at her, glancing uncertainly at the two men sitting on the couch then back at her. “Did you just call Lucifer by a nickname?”

She blinked in surprise, as if caught doing something without thinking about it. She shrugged. “Gabriel called him that once, it kind of stuck.”

“When was that?” he demanded.

“Right before he died,” explained Dean. “They had a whole conversation, Gabe trying one last time to talk sense into his brother. He called him ‘Luci’. You see this whole dynamic of how they really are brothers, and were actually pretty close once. It was freaking weird.”

Sam was shaking his head. “We were driving the car like we stole it at that point. How do you know?”

“I read the books starting with when Cas raised me from Hell, dude.”

Savvy was anxiously glancing at her watch again. “That’s great guys, really, but I’m not kidding about bad timing. I’m suppose to be somewhere and ya’ll are just gonna have to come with me.” Cas immediately stood and she faltered, frowning as she let her eyes rake over him, then over each of the Winchesters. “Except you can’t go dressed like that Cas.” He looked down at himself, wondering what was wrong with his appearance. “I don’t suppose you can poof you some new clothes? Yeah, didn’t think so. Dean? Can he borrow something of yours, please? And loose the layers or ya’ll will burn up. I’d even suggest shorts, but I know ya’ll don’t wear them.”

Dean and Cas both looked at each other in surprise, glancing the other over at the idea of Cas wearing Dean’s clothes. It made Dean blush at first, the idea of them sharing clothes like they were lovers or something, and he really didn’t want to think about the fact that Cas would actually be pretty hot dressed as a civvie with shades on and everything. No, he really didn’t want to think about that at all. Because once he did, then he could actually see it, Cas wearing Dean’s usual layering of shirts, denim that fit just right, with boots, shades, and swagger to top it all off, and God help him, the angel was fine as hell and Dean didn’t know what was wrong with him to be suddenly thinking things like that about his best friend, who was an angel wearing a guy. This had never been an issue before he’d met the angel, so what happened? But damn!

On the other hand, Dean’s clothing was far more likely to fit the angel than anything Sam had in his bag. Sighing, he put his bag on the couch and ripped open the zipper.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ve got some clothes, but I’ve only got the shoes I’m wearing-“ Cas vanished and reappeared in the flurry of wings that made Savvy grin like the Cheshire cat. He was holding a pair of men’s sneakers, looking expectantly at Dean. “-but him doing that took care of that problem, so never mind. Here, Cas. Jeans, t-shirt, I am not walking you through the fundamentals of changing your own clothes, dude. Angel whammy them on or something.”

An annoyed expression flitted over the angel’s face, even as his clothes instantly changed from one set to the other; his suit neatly folded on the couch by Dean’s bag. “I am well aware how to change my own clothes.” He glanced at Savvy as she placed a phone to her ear. “This is more suitable?”

She nodded, giving a short whistle at the dog, who immediately got up and scrambled into the kitchen. She waved them all back the way they came impatiently. “Grams? Hey, yeah, I know, I’m sorry I’m running behind. I unexpectedly had to take in some friends from out of town,” She followed them out, locking the door behind them and pushing a button on her key ring that caused the hatchback on her Kia Soul to rise up, Harley immediately jumping in. “No ma’am, they had a bit of really bad luck and drove all night to get here. I’m really sorry, but would you mind three extra people? I just hate to abandon them when they just got here. Yes ma’am- Cas, honey, you get shotgun. Boys, you’re in back. Yes, ma’am. Okay, that’s fine. We’re getting in the car now, so I’ll see you in about twenty minutes.” She shut the back of the car and went around to climb in the driver’s side as each of them settled into their own seats.

“Why is Cas up front?” demanded Dean.

She wheeled the car backward in an arch, then threw it in drive and pulled them down the driveway, pausing only long enough the glance at traffic before pulling out into the street. “You can flip a coin for the seat later on if you want. There’s one of him, two of you, it was simple at the time.”

“Where are we going?” questioned Sam, glancing worriedly at her then at the houses as they went by. Cas was curiously regarding the radio, his head angled to the side as he listened.

“My Grams turned eighty. It’s her birthday today.”

Dean scoffed. “We get blasted in from another dimension and you’re rushing us to get to a birthday party?”

She snapped warningly at him, holding up an index finger as she glared at him in the rear view mirror. “Hey! If I live to be eighty, everybody better show up to celebrate it too. Not to mention, it’s family; that’s just what you do, you celebrate each other’s existence. And buckle your seat belts.”

“Why the hell’d they send us to you anyway?” asked Dean, doing as told and fastening is seatbelt. “There’s not magic or anything in the world, right? So it’s not like you’re a hunter and could actually help in a fight.”

“Dean!” reprimanded Sam with a hiss.

“No offense,” amended the elder sibling quickly. “Just stating the facts and trying to figure this out.”

She shrugged. “Look, ya’ll’s barrel of wacky just got dumped in my lap, why are you asking me like I know as to why. If they wanted to get you away from potential danger over there for a spell, sending you to someone at least familiar with ya’ll in an alternate reality seems like a pretty good plan. I mean, how much further away can you get than an alternate reality? And it’s not like whatever is after you can just up and follow you here, right?”

“But why you?”

Checking traffic, she flicked on her blinker and got into the left hand turning lane, pulling out onto a new road. It looked like they were circling downtown. “Something Sam said, I guess. ‘Take up banner and sword for the sake of others’. It’s something God spoke to me through a prophetess once, I never told anyone, so there’s no way ya’ll could have known. When Sam said that, I knew this was something way beyond me, so I let you in. I gotta admit, this is a first though. Normally I’m just standing up for people who can’t or won’t defend themselves or something.”

This had Cas’s full attention, his head snapping to look at her. “My father spoke to you?”

“There’s no magic here,” argued Dean, leaning forward to regard her. “No monsters, no ghosts, demons, angels, nothing. How’s that possible?”

“My world is different than yours, Dean, the supernatural is less obvious, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. God, Heaven, Hell, etc. it all exist, but no, we don’t have black eyed demon possessed folks just walking around or angels with severe culture shock either. Our Lucifer never got out of his cage, the book of Revelations never came to pass, etc. That was all on your home turf, not here. Personally, I wonder if- being that you are real and not fictional characters- I wonder if God didn’t create the multiple levels of reality to offer different levels of freedom and see what happens. I mean, think about it: in your world, everything exist unsupervised and with free reign. It’s like you’re all suppose to find some sort of balance on your own or something.”

“What is the supernatural like in your world, then?” questioned Sam as they got on the interstate.

“Subtle,” she stated. “It is also my personal headcanon that the angels in my world are all wearing a uniform like MIB or secret service, shades included, each with their own personal preference of weapon, and that there is a veil over the human eyes keeping us from seeing the battle and warfare going on all around us as we walk, drive, play, whatever. They probably have a theme song that plays when they show up, because all badasses have a soundtrack that starts up when they show up. Also, my angels have personality and a sense of humor. I know they do. You can’t protect humanity in all of our stupidity for so long and not learn to laugh at it. Because seriously, God has a sense of humor, and sometimes it’s a little twisted. I laugh at my life enough that I hope the angels that guard me also get a kick out of it. Breaks the monotony.”

“But no monsters.” She shook her head. “And you’ve never actually seen an angel to know they exist, have you?” pressed Dean.

She chanced a glare at him. “Okay, look, Thomas-“ Cas snorted with laughter. “-I’m not so blind to see the obvious effects of invisible force at work in my life. When I’ve been in wrecks on a four-wheeler out in the woods that should have killed me and I walked away unscathed, when I was bitten by a water moccasin, and I felt those fangs sink into my leg, yet when I got away and we examined the wound there wasn’t a mark on me, when my silent prayers come true on petty things like needing a couch and someone gives me one that is even in the color I wanted it in, then yeah, I have faith and believe even without having to have an angel or God grant me with an actual audience like they owe it to me.”

Chuckling, Sam grinned as Dean deflated and sunk back into his seat. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the sound of Dean Winchester being put in his place.”

“Shutup Sam,” snapped his brother, glaring at the back of the head of the woman in front of him. “And what the hell are we listening to?” he demanded angrily.

“Christian radio. The Newsboys,” supplied Savvy, cheerfully. Her eyes in the rearview mirror dared him to say something on the subject. “The King Is Coming.”

Cas cast him a backwards glance, their eyes meeting. “I actually rather like it,” he admitted, unintentionally making Dean feel like even more of a heel. Yeah, okay, for the angel he could tolerate the music. It wasn’t bad actually, just not his rock music, and he knew he was being an ass because this whole day had royally boned them.

He forced a smile for the angel. “Good, Cas. I’m glad.”

Dean sunk back into his seat, propping his elbow up on the door and pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head in disbelief. They so had other things to be worried about, like Lucifer being let out of his cage, worse yet, with Michael in tow, like the wall to Purgatory about to bust wide open and unleash all kinds of bad on the world when they so did NOT have the numbers to fight it. Better yet, how were they supposed to keep a fight that massive under the radar of normal people? Keep the local authorities from getting involved? From the government finding out? Nobody could step in and screw things up quite like Uncle Sam could.

His brother was looking at him worriedly, and Dean waved him off, shaking his head. He didn’t like feeling helpless, didn’t like waiting around while expecting the world to fall down around his ears. He wanted to be doing something to at least feel like he was trying to combat what was coming down on them. Hell, research at least. Not that research in this mirror parody of their world would do them any freaking good.

Sam was the first one awake the next morning, glancing down to where Dean and Cas were asleep on the air mattress in the middle of Savvy’s living room. She’d ordered Sam to take the couch because of his height; the couch was a much older style, long and low, so he was able to sleep without having to find a comfortable angle, or curling up, or having his feet dangle off the end.

His gaze flicked to the angel fast asleep on his side of the air mattress. He and Dean were laying almost back to back, which was actually kind of cute and funny in one, mimicking in sleep how they were when awake. The angel sleeping had been on orders from Savvy as well, actually, God knows she didn’t allow room for argument. God took a day of rest, created everything else to require rest, that meant angels, too, she didn’t care if he just laid there with his eyes closed all night, he was going to get in a period of rest. Her ability to spout the Bible at him seemed to catch Cas off guard, even one time when he countered her with something from the Bible, she countered right back with a different quote.

Dean had thought maybe she had purposefully been giving him a hard time in the car the day before, but the more they saw, they more they realized how much of a pistol she was. Good as gold for sure, but when she set her mind to something, that was just the way it was going to be. Sam idly wondered if she weren’t naturally a red head who dyed her hair white.

Carefully rising from the couch, Sam made his way to the bathroom first, then afterward to see if Savvy was awake. Her bedroom door was open, so he glanced in curiously. Her bed was already made.

“Sav?” he called, glancing back toward to kitchen in case he’d somehow missed her.

“In here,” her voice called from the small office attached to her bedroom. He wandered closer, curious, actually surprised that she would be up so early. She sat at a desk on the right side of the office, inputting information from a stack of invoices in her lap and then discarding them in a basket on her right. “Good morning, Sam.”

He glanced around her office curiously, noting the two books cases laden down with books, the framed artwork and pictures on the walls, the figurines on the shelves. Harley was curled up under the desk at her mistress’s feet.

“Good morning,” he greeted, continuing to glance around. “What’s all this?”

She didn’t spare a glance from her task, her hair tied up in a ponytail. She was still in pajamas. “What’s what? What I’m doing or stuff around the office?”

He shrugged, stepping closer to inspect a set of figures on a shelf together, like they were from the same fantasy game, or what was it called? JRPG? There were other figures in different styles: teen age girls in cute, short-skirted getups with wands, an angry looking youth in black leather and belts with two short blades, a samurai with bright red hair tied back in a pony tail. The walls displayed a vintage French ad depicting a black cat, another the poster for a Broadway play. In the corner, she had a series of framed artwork for Batman, Sailor Moon, a dark rendition of Little Red Riding Hood, making him frown at the back of her head again.

It looked as though all the evidence of her nerdier hobbies was in this one room. The rest of the apartment was basically free of any such incriminating evidence, and she didn’t give off the vibe at all really.

“You’re a nerd,” he stated in surprise. She turned her head to arch a brow at him. “I-I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he amended, causing her to chuckle and return to her work. “I’m just surprised is all.”

“You haven’t looked at my shelves in the living room too closely yet, have you?”

He shook his head, leaning against the doorframe. “No. By the time we got home last night and got the mattress all set up, I think we were all just ready for sleep.”

“I’m a nerd, but not the socially inept kind. I have all the Harry Potter books and love them. I have lots of books, actually. I read manga and watch anime; I play videogames. I’m also a huge animation freak, so I have a lot of Disney, Dreamworks, Pixar, and the like, though there’s something to be said for the two-dee animation as opposed to computer graphics. Also, tell Dean: no porn. I don’t watch it, ever. There are only a few movies rated R on my shelves, and they’re typically rated that for violence. I'm also pure bred country girl and tom boy, if the drawl wasn't a tip-off. Unfortunately, I have a feeling Dean's not exactly going to enjoy his stay here. I apologize in advance. To all of you, if we’re being honest.”

Sam shook his head. “We’ll be fine. You took us in; we’re grateful.” He hooked his chin at her paperwork and computer. “So what are you doing?”

“I’m the book keeper and accountant for a small construction company. I’m salary and completely badass at what I do, so I work from home rather than driving into the office. They don’t care as long as I get the job done. They scan it in, send it to me, I handle it, and send it back. What normally would take someone else all day, I can typically do in a few hours unless there’s a problem.” She glanced at him. “I wanted to be available for ya’ll so I got up early to knock this out. If you’ll let me finish, afterward, I’ll start breakfast then we’ll need to talk more imminent concerns while ya’ll are here.”

He nodded. “I’ll go ahead and get a shower, if that’s okay, before Dean and Cas get up.”

She waved him off. “Make yourself at home.”

By the time he got out of the shower and dressed, Savvy had finished her paperwork and appeared to be starting breakfast. Cas and Dean were up and had folded the blankets, sliding the air mattress back into the office so that it leaned against the wall out of the way. Dean was sitting at the dining table nursing a cup of coffee and glowering sleepily at the blank spot on the wall across from him, still wearing pajama pants and t-shirt he’d slept in. Cas was actually wearing pajamas Savvy had loaded him. The were hand-me-downs she’d gotten from a male cousin, being that they were sweat pants with ‘Hollister’ down the side of one navy blue leg, when he was getting rid of them, she snatched them up.

It was weird to see Cas in a gray t-shirt, navy jogging pants, and socks, seeing as how before yesterday they’d never seen him in anything but his suit and trench coat.

After putting her two quiches in the oven, Savvy wordlessly made her way into the living room and returned dragging a large black trash bag behind her. She set it in the middle of the room and pointed down to it.

“My uncle dropped this off for ya’ll this morning. It’s clothes. I told them you didn’t have anything but the clothes on your backs for the most part and they all raided their closets, their boyfriend’s closet, or their husband’s closet. They’re all clean and should fit. Sam the stuff on the very bottom is from Chase and Gary and should fit you, they’re monstrously tall as well.” Dean didn’t say anything, just cut his eyes at the bag and grunted into his coffee cup, obviously not happy to be on the receiving end of donations. Sam made an annoyed face that went unnoticed by his brother. To her credit, Sav seemed to know well how to be reasonable even in the face of a grumpy Winchester. “Dean, I know you’d rather not, but what with Cas having to borrow your clothes, you’re going to end up rewearing the same thing for days, and I don’t own a washer and dryer. This will make it easier. Heck, there are even swim trunks and sandals in here for ya’ll in case we go swimming.”

“That was very nice of your family,” insisted Castiel as he took a seat across from Dean at the table. Even through the fog of his brain, Dean noted the way Cas’s leg brushed his own as he moved them under the table, his foot next to Dean’s. The hunter went to withdraw his own foot and stopped. Screw it. It’s not like Cas realized the hunter was enjoying the simple, accidental contact, so he let his socked foot stay where it was. There was no reason to move, he told himself, and it wasn’t like it was a big deal.

“One problem down, we have a bigger, more imminent one.” They all looked at her. “Money. I don’t make enough to support feeding four people.”

“I do not have to eat,” offered Castiel. “I’m an angel.”

“Not having to is not the same as can’t,” she told him, almost repeating the same thing she’d told him the night before about sleeping. “Just because you don’t need to eat doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the simple joy of food. You’re eating- unless you don’t like something, then just let me know. No arguments. Guys, I’m gonna need your expertise on this one, because we’re gonna have to get cash on the low down here. I’d hate to ask you to get jobs, because someone might recognize you and that’ll bring questions and just no. The rules and stuff as far as credit card scams might be different from your world to mine, and I don’t want you getting caught or for it to lead to my door-“

“We’ll take care of it,” grunted Dean.

She watched him steadily. “You’re sure?” He made a sound and she nodded. “Okay. That’s settled then. Dean, if you want, the shower is free. I’ll get you a towel and washrag. When you get out, breakfast should be ready. Go on, you’ll feel better.”

When Dean disappeared into the shower, Savvy left to take Harley for a walk around the block. Sam took a seat across the table from Cas, drinking a cup of tea Savvy had made ready for him. She’d pointed out where the tea was stored for future reference, making him grateful she wasn’t planning on playing hostess for them the entire time they were there. What with her being a fan of the show, it would have been too much like having to be taken in by Becky, some form of hero worship rather than just graciously helping out strangers. Not that she was anything like Becky, or even that Becky was as bad as she’d been upon initial meeting.

Though the blonde still managed to make Sam more than a little uncomfortable whenever they were around her sometimes.

“What do we do now?” Sam asked Cas. The angel looked up at him curiously. “Sav says there’s a Heaven here. Maybe you can go to that version and find us some answers about what to do when we get home? I doubt the books here would be any help on the subject. Not that she would have any.”

The angel shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sam. Heaven will be of no more help to us here than it was back home.”

“Why not?”

“I am completely cut off here,” stated the angel sadly, with a perplexed expression. “I am an angel, yet, not one of this world. I do not know how to tap into the host of Heaven and seek guidance. I know of no way of returning, or if they would even allow it or see me as a threat.”

“Can you maybe, pray? Or something?”

Steady blue eyes met his. “I have tried that.”

The younger Winchester glanced around, then back at the angel, lowering his voice, “So is Savvy wrong then? Are there no angels or anything supernatural in this world?”

Cas shook his head. “There are. With great effort, I can… sense their existence. I just do not know how to commune with them for help.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Twelve

“Okay, before we get too far into the day,” began Savvy, “let’s go ahead and take care of my end of the deal about offering ya’ll protection and shelter.”

Dean and Sam looked up where they were tying up their shoes and stretching, preparing for their run together. Dean was actually wearing basketball shorts and sneakers, courtesy of a cousin Marcus. Castiel was flipped curiously through a Supernatural magazine in the living room.

She had a small glass phial with a black screw on lid in her hand. “You three sit on the couch together.”

Cas set his magazine aside, watching intently as she came to stand in the center of the living room; the two hunters took seats on the couch with him in the middle of them.

“What are you going to do?” questioned Sam, eyeing the glass phial as she unscrewed the lid.

“What I was taught to do: pray. And don’t you dare laugh, Dean Winchester,” she ordered with a glare. “While I move around, ya’ll just stay there and either pray internally in agreement with my prayer or your own version, or say nothing.” She shot another look at Dean, who rolled his eyes. While he had no faith anyone upstairs was going to help them, it didn’t mean he couldn't indulge her as well.

With the lid off, a perfumed scent filled the air, making Cas blink in surprise. “Frankincense and myrrh.”

She nodded, and Dean noted she looked very uncomfortable as she dabbed some of the oil onto her finger. “I’ve never done this with other people, so this is kind of embarrassing. Ya’ll can’t be looking at me. And I mean it, Dean, don’t laugh.”

Sam and Cas both dutifully closed their eyes, and Dean lowered his gaze, even if he didn’t close his eyes completely. He was curious was she planned to do.

She walked over to the front door, touching the oil on her finger to the structure. “Father, I come to ask for protection and guidance for those residing in this home. I pray that you would place a hedge of protection around my home, that no harm would befall any who enter.” She leaned across to touch the window sill as she prayed, then moved over to stand in front of them, face red with embarrassment and pointedly ignoring Dean as she gently touched the oil to each of their foreheads with her index finger. “Father God, I pray that your angels would be about them, to guide and protect them as they walk the path you have laid before them. I ask you God that you would give each of them discernment, that they would know your voice and that the voice of strangers they’ll not follow. Thank you God for having seen them this far in their journey and for continuing to keep them safe. May they remain vigilant even as the dark of the night sets in and the Thief prowls around them, seeking entrance at the door. Protect them from he who came to steal, kill, and destroy, and let them not be deceived by pretty lies and false promises.”

She moved away and from the room, lightly touching her finger to doorframes as she passed through them continuing to pray. She asked for forgiveness of sins, that they would forgive those who had wronged them in the past and would wrong them in the future. She thanked him for the opportunity to met with them and offer them what little help she could, asked for guidance on her part so that she not stumble in the task she’d been given. Thanked God for the angels that guarded her personally and offered to sacrifice her protection detail, for her angels to guard them instead of her if it meant their safety. Then she quoted several scriptures from the Bible apparently of promises God made to ‘His Children’- believers, Dean supposed. As she drew to a close, she returned to lean against the door frame leading into the living room- Dean quickly dropped his gaze before she saw him- and folded her arms with an ‘Amen’.

Sam looked up, brows raised questioningly. “Is that it?”

She nodded. “You’re good to go. Best I know how to do. I also have my family and friends praying for your safety as well. They all think you’re key witnesses in a high profile case and that someone blew up your house to shut you up and send you into hiding, but prayer is prayer.”

Rising to his feet, Cas gave her a shadow of a smile. “You did marvelously.”

She flushed bright red and ducked her head. “Yeah, okay. Have a nice run, boys. If you get turned around in the neighborhoods, just ask someone how to get back to this street. There are always people out exercising and such.” She tossed something to Dean, and he snatched it out of the air, opening his palm to look at the key on the small key chain of a drawn kitten with a strawberry. “Sorry it’s girly. It’s the only one I had. That way you can get back in the house if I’m not here. If any of my neighbors see you and ask questions, just tell them you’re family who blew into town for a little while. I doubt they will, though, we keep to ourselves.”

Sam regarded her curiously. “What about you?”

“I’ll clean house while ya’ll are gone. Cas, you’re free to get scarce as well. You must be curious about things in this world and how they differ from yours. Or if you can contact Heaven or whatever.”

Nodding, Dean watched as the angel’s clothes instantly changed to his normal suit and trench coat before the angel vanished from sight, making Dean scowl angrily.

He and Sam were several blocks away before he said anything. “What is the deal with Cas since we got here?” he demanded. His brother glanced at him curiously. They were ‘incognito’ as Savvy told them, handing them both ball caps and sun glasses with sports straps. He felt like a celebrity trying to dodge the paparazzi, but she hadn’t wanted to take any chances. “Do you realize we’re taking orders from a girl who I don’t even know if she can vote yet? And Cas! Cas just does what she says! Without question! He would smite either one of us if we just told him to do something. We have to ask, but her? Oh no.” He mimicked her voice, “Cas sit up front. Cas go to sleep. Cas eat something. Cas, feel free to get lost.” He snapped his head to the side to glare at his brother. “Every time we get something to eat and he’s with us, I offer to get him something, or for him to share my food. Has he ever? No! We show up here, she gives the word, he just goes with it! What the hell, man!”

Sam shrugged the best he could while jogging. “I dunno, man. I mean, Cas was a soldier for how long? Taking orders without thought comes as easy as breathing to him, it’s thinking for himself that is a learned behavior. If he really had a reason to tell her ‘no’, he would have, but there’s been no reason to argue with any of the things she made him do.”

“And what are we suppose to do while we’re here anyway? Huh?” he demanded, increasingly angry. “Sit around twiddling our thumbs and wait for Balthazar to come pick us up? Shouldn’t he have been here by now? How long does it take for God to open a cage of his own making?”

“Technically, I think Michael made the cage,” pointed out Sam, earning a cross look from his brother. “Look, dude, I know this has you on edge, but we just gotta make the best of it and hope we go home soon. Now do you wanna run or do you wanna talk, because we can’t do both,” he huffed.

Setting his mouth in a flat line, Dean picked up his pace.

It was more than an hour later when they finally made their way back to Savvy’s apartment. They could hear her music blasting from outside, making Sam comment on she must still be cleaning house. Dean didn’t care. He was hot, he was tired, and he wanted a shower- which he called dibs on first. From the sound, it was like she was listening to some pop/dance club song, making him roll his eyes. Her musical choices endeared her to him no further.

After they’d sat on her back porch long enough to do cool down stretches and catch their breath, they unlocked the back door and went in. Cas stood in the middle of the dining room looking into the living room, his head angled to the side curiously. It wouldn’t have been odd except for the fact that Savvy was in full dance mode in center of the room, twisting, turning, and swinging her hips to the fast pace beat, hands shoulder height or above her head. She was completely oblivious to the angel watching her as she was pulled away from her dusting by the beat of a favorite song.

Sam and Dean approached in confusion, glancing at the girl that still had no idea as to their presence then to the angel watching intently. For whatever reason, it really pissed Dean off.

“Cas, what are you doing just standing there?” Sam asked.

“Seriously,” agreed Dean. “And we gotta leave and come back and slam the door loud so she doesn’t realize we saw her partying and gets all embarrassed and mad.” He just wanted her to stop and for the angel to stop looking so fascinated.

Castiel shook his head. “She can neither see us nor hear us.” He reached out a hand and the air in front of them shimmered. A barrier. “We’re safe.”

“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing,” Sam pointed out.

“It’s intriguing to watch,” the angel admitted.

“…and that doesn’t make it any less creepy you’re watching some unawares girl who thinks she’s safe in the privacy of her own home.”

“While she shakes it in those jeans,” added Dean, regarding the girl and the way she danced wildly and happily to the music blasting through her stereo. Yeah, okay, were she anyone else, he could completely see the fascination in watching, were it anyone else watching.

The angel shrugged. “I just like watching.”

Dean looked at him in surprise. “Cas! You kinky bastard!”

On the angel’s other side, his brother was nodding in disbelief. “I gotta say, I never took you for the pervert type, Cas.”

The angel looked at each of them in alarm. “What?”

“Secretly watching some innocent girl while she shakes her groove thing in her living room thinking she’s alone?” Dean arched a brow, and shook his head. “Heavy mouth breather stuff right there, is what it is.”

Scoffing, Cas rolled his eyes. “You misunderstand. I’m not watching her.” He grabbed Dean by the elbow and pulled him in front of him, placing one hand on Dean’s left shoulder, sending a burst of electricity through the hunter’s body and causing the living room to suddenly explode with color and light.

“Whoa!” exclaimed Dean in surprise, eyes darting at the pulsing lights and colors radiating from the living room. “I feel like I’m tripping on acid. What is this?”

“What do you see?” asked Cas, moving to share the hunter’s line of sight, his mouth close to Dean’s ear, that puff of breath on the rim sending a new kind of electricity through the hunter.

“U-uh. Color. Lights. Um, Savvy’s still partying like she’s in concert. The light seems to be radiating from her.”

“What else do you see? Ignore her.” The angel’s lips accidentally brushed Dean’s ear and it did rip a shudder from him, forcing him to swallow and shake his head. It had been a simple accident that was all; the angel had no idea what he was doing to Dean, that the heat rolling off the other man’s body through his clothes made the hunter ache. God help him, he wanted to whirl around and claim that mouth that was unintentionally teasing him. To ravish it.

Blinking and forcing himself to focus, Dean let his eyes drift around what he could see of the other room, the rainbow of color and light like a dance club. He faltered when he saw what he thought was movement, narrowing his eyes and focusing on the spot. His eyes widened in shock, even as he took in more than one such shape in the room with her.

“Holy fuck!” he swore. Sam’s gaze snapped to the room in alarm, clearly not seeing anything. Cas’ hand dropped from Dean’s shoulder and his vision lost the acid trip filter, but the hunter was still stunned, pointing helplessly at the room. “She’s not alone! There a-are people or ghosts or something in there with her! It looks like a freaking dance club in there, man!”

“That’s an exaggeration,” stated Cas absently, head angled to the side as he continued to regard the other room. “There are only three forms in the room with her, all of them dancing along with her.”

“Her apartment is haunted?” questioned Sam in shock.

“A lot of good that prayer of hers did us,” scoffed Dean. “She’s got spirits already living under her own roof.”

“They aren’t ghosts, Dean,” stated Cas softly, a genuine sound of awe to his voice. “They’re angels. Her angels, the ones that protect her.” His gaze flicked at the spaces around her. “They love her very much. Personally, not just as another ward to watch after.”

“Dancing to the radio with her? Are you kidding me?”

The angel turned his head to meet his gaze. “You saw them for yourself.” He looked back. “It takes a lot of concentration and effort for me to be even see them that well. Communication with them is impossible as far as I can tell. They can see us, but they’re ignoring us. They know we want to get in contact with them or Heaven, but we won’t be able to unless they reveal themselves, which somehow, I’m highly doubtful of.”

“Why?”

“They would have already done it,” he stated simply.

“Huh.” The three of them stood there, regarding the girl still oblivious to their presence as she faltered in her dusting of shelves as the chorus to the song struck up and she started dancing again. “See, only girls can get away with that kind of freedom,” Dean noted. “Randomly busting out dancing wherever they want when a song they like comes on.”

Cas looked at him. “Did you never do that when you were a girl?”

“Hell no,” the hunter scoffed. “I may have looked like a girl, but I was still all me, dude.”

“Dean is more likely to start playing air guitar and air drums when his favorite rock song comes on,” stated Sam with a smirk and sidelong glance at his brother. “Act like he’s a rock star in concert.”

“Yeah, Sam’s the one more likely to break out dancing to his iPod in public, Cas.”

Pursing his lips as he considered this, Sam finally gave a nod. “Yeah, you’re right. I would.” He and Dean bumped fists, grinning. “No shame.”

“Way to own it.”

Cas nodded distractedly. Dean glanced in Savvy’s direction again. “Well if you know you can’t make first contact, why are you still staring?”

“Well, once you brought it to my attention, I realized it is rather fascinating- the way she ‘shakes it in those jeans’.”

Clamping his jaw shut, a furious expression flitted over Dean’s face, even while Sam only looked taken by surprise. The elder Winchester grabbed his brother by the arm, pulling him toward the door. “We need to take another cool down lap. Now,” he growled.

“Cas,” called Sam as Dean dragged him toward the door. The angel looked back at them curiously, but Dean refused to meet his gaze, furiously glaring at the doorknob, the fist gripping it so tightly it threatened to snap the contraption off altogether. “Seriously, dude, you can’t watch her like that without her knowing. It’s creepy.”

The angel glanced back at the girl, then followed after the Winchesters, appearing on the sidewalk outside just as they shut the door behind them. Sam was glancing around worriedly in case anyone saw, but for the most part, it seemed like Savvy was the only one ever home.

“Actually, Sam,” began Cas, his gaze drifting from the taller hunter to Dean, his azure gaze locking with green, “I need to speak with Dean.” Nodding, Sam shifted his weight and waited. “As my parabatai,” clarified the angel.

“Oh, alone,” realized Sam with a nod of his head, leaping off the porch with all the grace of a cat. “Got it. I’ll, uh, I’ll just head… back in, I guess?” Dean nodded.

As the younger Winchester returned back inside, Cas’ eyes followed him. In the moment, Dean let his eyes rake over Cas’ form, taking in his stance and posture, the angle of his chin in the air. The hunter wasn’t sure the angel was even aware of the way his posture changed in reflection to his mood. This was when Dean knew he was looking at an Angel of the Lord, it wasn’t aggressive, but defiant. It was as if he was daring an opponent to do there worst and see what happened. There was a confidence to it, which truthfully endeared the angel to Dean, because it was like he knew who he was and what he stood for. His stance even screamed that he would not be moved by any force.

Dean could feel nothing from Cas though. He didn’t always pick up on the angel’s emotions, really, just heightened ones, or perhaps things Cas didn’t mind if Dean was aware of, like if he were amused, then it was like a secret communicated between them.

Those blue eyes swept to where Dean was still standing on the porch, his vantage point leaving him towering over the man standing on lower ground. Stepping forward, Dean lowered himself to sit on the edge of the porch, his feet dangling inches off the ground. He regarded Cas. “What’s up?”

The angel shifted, his gaze dropping as he considered his words. “It has come to my attention that our parabatai contract remains incomplete and imbalanced. I would like this remedied.”

Dean shook his head. “Incomplete? Incomplete how?”

Sighing, Cas shook his head. “I’m sorry I was not able to enter into this with you with all information in hand at the time, it would have been simpler. Now I only have instances of insight if things are… out of tune. Something akin to instinct to go on.”

The hunter shrugged, and made a gesture with his open hands. “Okay, well, what is it and how do we fix it? We fix it, everything’s balanced and right, right?”

“Balanced,” repeated the angel. His gaze snapped up, head angling to regard Dean. “I marked you as my parabatai. Humans and angels alike can see these marks. The rune, the writing, even the scar are all proof to our bond.”

Nodding, Dean thought he was following the current situation. “Yeah, okay. This is all true.”

“You have not marked me as your parabatai, though.”

“Oh.”

“This is a problem.”

The brunette was nodding again. “Yeah, I guess I can see that. So, you didn’t find a mark on you, then? Yeah, I guess not. Well, what can we do? It’s not like I can write runes in you or something saying ‘Dean is my homeboy’. We could get you a tat, like I said.” Cas gave an infinitesimally shake of his head, making Dean frown. “You don’t want one?”

“It would not fulfill the requirements unless you were the one permanently inscribing my skin. It has to be something you do of your own volition.”

“Cas, I’m not an angel. I can’t mark you.”

“In the way an angel would, true, but surely there is some manner of human equivalent? You’ve admitted it with your mouth and have no reservations in informing others we are parabatai, we only need a physical representation of that agreement. And it has to be from you, some meaning attached to it.” Dean frowned in confusion. “My name has meaning to me. It is something I highly value. There are memories and feelings from a long history attached to my name, so that was how my commitment to you chose to manifest itself.”

The hunter understood. It had to be something of personal value he handed over as his part of the exchange. Well, shit. He didn’t have anything. The amulet Sam had given Dean so many years ago came to mind, but he’d long since gotten rid of it when God let them all down. Everything he owned fit in a bag, and none of it held any value.

Frustrated, Dean made a helpless gesture. And stopped, gazing at his hand in confusion. He glanced at Cas who was watching curiously. He turned his splayed hand, showing the ring he never took off.

“Would this work? It’s not much, but it’s mine, I never take it off, and anyone who knows me, knows it’s my ring.” He scoffed. “I feel like a freaking high schooler, exchanging rings as a symbol of a bond, dude. This is lame, but it’s all I’ve got. I don’t have my amulet anymore; it seems more your style than a gunmetal ring.” Cas stepped closer, regarding Dean’s hand with a curious tilt to his head. “Will this balance out our being parabatai?” He frowned, glancing at Cas. “It’s not causing any ill-effects for you, is it?”

“This should suffice, actually,” stated Cas.

Dean slid the ring off his finger a bit reluctantly, after all, he’d never taken it off in all the years since he’d had it. With a shrug, he held it out to the angel. “If it doesn’t fit, we can get you a chain to wear it on. What is it with you and taking all my jewelry, man? Now I really feel naked.” He looked down at his unadorned fingers. “I’m gonna have to get a new one. I really liked that ring. Don’t ask me why.”

The angel slipped the ring onto the same finger Dean had worn it on, looking down to regard it, open palm upward. “It is very much you, though. I do hate to deprive you of it. Yes, this is perfect.” He smiled at Dean. “Thank you.”

The hunter nodded. “So that’s it then? Are we balanced as far as this parabatai claiming thing goes? I’m marked as yours; my ring marks you as mine?” He scoffed and shook his head. “That sounded a lot gayer than I meant.”

An amused twinkle in his eye, Cas chuckled and smirked at Dean. “We could seal it with a kiss if you would like.”

The hunter barked with laughter, bringing his feet up and rising to stand, shoving back the way his gaze had immediately fallen to the angel’s pink lips somewhere to the deep recesses of his mind. Thinking about the angel like that was only going to get him in a mess of trouble, and thinking about kissing him twice in one day was not a good sign.

“Naw, dude, we’re good. Brothers in arms. Yin and Yang. BFF’s for life. Let’s not even validate that ‘there are no straight men in the trenches’ saying.” He paused, one hand on the handle of the screen door. Pivoting, he pointed at the angel ascending the stairs. “And no more watching Savvy when she thinks she’s alone to shake her groove thing.”

Cas chuckled. “I think this is where Sam would ask you if you were jealous.”

The hunter flushed. “Of course not! It’s just creepy is all!”

The shorter man gave a shrug. “I guess angels are so use to watching humanity without their knowledge, we think nothing of it. I was only one of four angels in the room with her, remember?”

“It’s their job to stalk her and lurk from the shadows watching,” he argued opening the door. “Not yours.” As they entered the apartment again, Dean grinned once more back at his angel. “Besides, if we do get you a tat, you know, just to make things ‘even’, we need to get you one like your mark on me, except it’ll be a ring of script, my name all in cursive or some coliseum looking font, and then in the center of the ring it’ll say ‘made of win’, whaddya think? Or we could make it bigger, more tribal looking, all black ink, where it looks like just a really cool design and then the letters start to stand out and you realize it’s words, not just awesome to look at.”

Cas was actually laughing, blue eyes sparkling and everything as he nodded. “I would actually consider getting that done. It would always make me smile.”

Dean barked with laughter, reaching over to clap the angel on the back, giving his shoulder an affection squeeze. Grateful to God for one of the few good things in his life he knew he could never live without.

“Welcome back,” greeted Savvy, putting away cleaning stuff in a closet. Dean nodded to her, noting the way Cas made a point to give the hunter’s arm a squeeze in return as he passed, Dean sensing the angel’s mutual affection and happiness that they were fortunate enough to have met and become friends, regardless of all the hardships that came with that. “Is there anything ya’ll would like to do today?” She placed her hands on her hips, regarding Dean now that they were alone. “We can do research, but I don’t know if it’ll turn up anything. I really doubt it will. Purgatory here is a Catholic belief, from what I understand, it’s where you go when you die to be purged so that you are clean upon entering Heaven. Which would make Jesus’ sacrifice pointless if you still had to go to Purgatory, but that’s what they believe. Some say it’s just a waiting place between here and there. It’s not some hell dimension like it is in your world. Your version of Purgatory sounds like something off of Buffy and Angel.”

At the unfamiliar names, Dean frowned and shook his head. “What are those? Shows?”

She nodded. “Buffy is The Slayer, a destiny ordained warrior, one girl in all the world chosen to fight the vampires. Her vampires are different than yours as well. Homegirl kicks the ass. Angel is-“

“Lemme guess,” he interrupted, “about an angel roaming the earth smiting evil in the name of God?”

She smirked. “Wrong. Angel is a vampire, the show is a spin off of Buffy after he moves away from Sunnydale- a hellmouth, to L.A., another Hellmouth. He and a motley crew of humans, supernaturals, and demons create a team that saves people from the things that go bump in the night. They’re like hunters, but they have an office and get paid.”

“They both sound lame.”

“Buffy Summers could throw you across a room and kick your ass in three inch heels, Dean Winchester,” she threw over her shoulder as she followed after Cas into the living room.

They ended up watching a movie, actually. The four of them. Dean actually thought it was a great idea, it would be give them a chance to catch Cas up on the more iconic films people frequently referenced. Sam and Cas thought it would be fair for Sav to pick the movie since it was her house, she argued that she couldn’t make three grown men watch Disney movies where characters, animals, and inanimate objects randomly burst into synchronized song and dance. Dean was eternally grateful, but he also saw the appeal in starting off with children’s movies because of Cas. It ended with the arrangement that Savvy and Cas would work on animated movies when Dean and Sam weren’t present, instead they ended up watching the most classic of all must-see movies: the original Star Wars trilogy.

Savvy sat curled up in the corner of her couch, Cas sat in the center, and Dean in the other corner, his arm stretched across the back of the couch. Sam was kicked back in a chair, one long leg slung over the arm.

Then Savvy got Cas to help her in the kitchen making lunch, while Sam swapped out the movie and got out the next one for them to watch. Dean moved around restlessly while he waited, trying not to get irritated at the way Cas and Savvy seemed to easily amuse the other one while they worked together in the kitchen. It was good there was harmony in the house, that there was no threat in this world looming over their heads, allowing them to relax. They all needed it, and the angel deserved normal more than anyone Dean knew. That didn’t stop the burning anger Dean was unwilling to attach a name to.

Worse still, this wasn’t Bobby’s, so it wasn’t like he knew what to do when bored. He examined her different books cases, scanning titles for something to do, examining her dvd and boxset collection, pausing when his eyes landed on a photograph of her and another girl grinning at the camera.

He glanced around, circling the room to examine all the different photographs, noting that all of them seemed to miss the same element. He came to lean against the doorframe.

“Hey, Savvy, are you gay?”

Both angel and female turned sharply to look at him in surprise. “What?”

He hooked a thumb over his shoulder into the living room. “None of the pictures show you with a guy. I didn’t know if that was because one of them is your girlfriend.”

Some small part of his brain was really hoping she would say ‘yes’.

“No, I’m not. I’m just not dating anyone, and none of my exes are worth keeping a photograph of. Those pictures are all of me with family or friends.”

“Got a type?”

“It’s not you, if that’s what you’re asking,” she quipped. Sam barked with laughter in the living room, apparently listening in on the conversation. “You get around Dean, and I am not a one night stand kind of girl.”

“As of late, Dean seems to have out grown that behavior,” defended Cas, causing her to look at him curiously as they finished fixing the different plates of sandwiches and chips. “He was in a stable relationship with Lisa for several months and since then has not been with anyone that I’m aware of.”

Her face lit up to Dean’s surprise. “Really?” she asked the hunter. “Aw! That’s sweet! Not the Lisa part, that was freaking weird and out of character, but the you being capable of a committed, long term relationship, that you’ve settled into yourself enough to stop living so recklessly, that’s sweet. I’d like to see that for you, you could settle down if you wanted.”

He blinked in surprise, not having expected that. “Are you serious?” She nodded, smiling. He frowned at her. “How can you think that would even be possible with our jobs? The world constantly being in danger?”

“Well, if they’re a hunter, I would think it would be easy. Or actually, even if they aren’t a hunter. Dean, you falling in love with someone isn’t going to change the fact that they are in danger everyday from things they don’t even know about, like the wall to Purgatory about to blow. And maybe being with you might put them in more harm’s way than they originally might have been exposed to, but anyone you make friends with or come in contact with is taking that same risk, but that never stops ya’ll. And settling down is possible without getting out of the life entirely, you could open up a Winchester Roadhouse, like Ellen did, offer tips to hunters that blow through, hunt only in a particular radius. Not everything has to be on ya’ll, you know. Put out a memo: In case of apocalypse, call the Winchesters. Everything else, figure it out.” Dean blinked in surprise, reminded that Lisa had said almost the exact same thing to him.

“You suggested you thought it possible when you originally included yourself in the search for Chuck, Dean,” Cas reminded him. “When I asked how you planned to hunt while you were with Lisa.”

“Because I wasn’t going to let ya’ll cut me out,” he argued. “A hunter trying to have a normal life isn’t some easy, simple matter. If it were, they would all do it.”

“No, it really is,” she argued back. “You’re just making it more complicated by putting limitations on yourself. Uninvolved third party here, remember? I see everything from all sides; it’s how I’m able to like both the good and bad guys.”

“You like our enemies?” questioned Cas, curiously.

She grinned, nodding rapidly. “Crowley is awesome, in part because he’s played by Mark Sheppard, who plays Badger in Firefly. I miss Gabriel, though he isn’t exactly an enemy. Meg got awesome when they changed her actress, I hated the blonde version. I was always ‘Bitch, you need to die. STFU.’ Y’know? It was the opposite with Ruby; I liked the blonde version better. And Lucifer is freaking epic.” She laughed. “God, they got such an awesome actor to play him, he does a great job. Especially in season seven when he’s there but only Sam can see him, and he’s being a complete ass keeping him from being able to sleep, but at the same time, it’s just freaking hysterical when he busts out singing in order to be annoying and distracting. It was just wrong. Poor Sam.”

Cas was staring at Dean in confusion, even horror. The hunter was shaking his head, and Cas did the same, following Savvy’s example and carrying the plates into the living room.

“It’s very strange to hear such a perception,” the angel stated, handing a plate to Dean.

“Not to mention creepy,” added the taller man.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m completely one hundred percent Team Free Will, but that doesn’t mean I can’t giggle like madly when certain characters are on screen or wish ya’ll could come to an agreement where you all work together to save the world or something.”

“Enemy of my enemy is my friend,” stated Sam accepting his lunch with a grateful smile.

“We’re trying to do that anyway,” argued his brother. “Before Balthazar threw us to the dark side of the moon, Crowley and Meg were in the house to discuss joining forces.”

“How’d you manage that?” she questioned before taking a bite of her sandwich. She took a seat on the floor, giving Harley a chip as the dog came to sit beside her.

“Crowley forcibly brought Meg.” Sam shrugged. “She had already met us to figure out what was going on and even was the one give us a small break in our case we were working on. When she wasn’t there, Crowley was, about the same thing. In the interest of saving time, I suppose, he got us all in one room together to have the same meeting.”

“Well that’s good,” Savvy said.

Dean scoffed. “Good, she says. We’re working with people who could stab us in the back at any time.”

“Except they can’t,” argued Sam, causing his brother to regard him in confusion. “Technically. Crowley has debts to pay to all of us. He has to make good on those debts before he can turn on us. He’s bound. I think that would mean him having to keep Meg from killing us as well.”

“Not to mention, she still needs allies to try and keep her safe from Crowley. When this is over, she’s hoping to still be well enough in our favor that we not feed her to him,” interjected Cas.

“Allies,” Dean repeated softly, nearly sending his sandwich flying as inspiration hit him. “That’s it!” he cried out loudly, standing sharply to his feet, food discarded. All three of the people watching him jumped in surprise. “We need to watch the show! Savvy, put in… whatever you called it. Season six.”

She frowned in distaste. “I’m not comfortable subjecting you to that.”

Sam was frowning in confusion at his brother. Cas sat with his head angled. “Dean?”

The hunter spun around to face them, pacing as thoughts raced through his head. “We can’t do any real research into a way to stop Purgatory, but we can still do research into allies. It was why we called Becky, to get her to cross reference. We can watch the show, make a list of people to seek out when we get back home, see? We’ll already have a list of candidates and people to help us.”

“I really don’t think-“ began Savvy tentatively, still looking unenthused.

“That’s actually not a bad idea, Dean,” commended Sam. “We’ll know who to call, who’s even up to the job, and if we would work well with them. We would just have to figure out how to find them once we get home.”

“I can take care of that,” offered Cas. “Plus with the help of the wide information network of the people offering us aid, we should be able to find all of them quickly and easily.”

“Crossroad demons could make deals with those not willing to just sign up,” offered Savvy, making them all look at her in horror. She continued, “You help us, I’ll help you in return’ as opposed to ‘I’ll help you in return for your soul in ten years’. The assistance offered in saving the world would be the demon’s asking price, see?”

Sam eyed her suspiciously. “And if the hunter backs out?”

Savvy shrugged. “I’m sure Crowley will have a breech of contract clause. You can get him to change it to where if the person entering into the agreement backs out, that gives the demon that made the deal full rights to possess said person for the sake of the agreement in joining the fighting force, in which case, the demon must then immediately vacate once terms of the contract are fulfilled.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” admitted Cas, his gaze flicking to Dean’s for his say on the matter. Dean knew Cas would side with whatever his parabatai decided. The angel could see the logic in the decision, but also knew it was a big risk.

The hunter was nodding, mostly to himself as ideas raced through his head.

“Cas.” The angel regarded him curiously. “That trick Balthazar pulled to get us here. If there are other realities, is there any way for us to duplicate what he did and enlist the aid of people from other places?”

The angel shook his head. “I do not think that would be wise or even possible. I have no idea how Balthazar did what he did to get us here, didn’t even know it was possible.”

The younger Winchester was nodding in agreement, brows furrowed. “Not to mention unfair, since we’re sort of facing the apocalypse here. What right do we have to drag people not even from our world into that? Or if they would even know how to fight the things we fight? Are there even worlds with other hunters?”

Dean motioned distractedly to where Savvy sat in the floor even as he paced all around her. “She said so. Some dike named ‘Buff’ or something.”

“Buffy,” she corrected, huffing in offense. “And she’s not a- Buffy is girly and a badass. Think Jo, but with the power to roundhouse kick you across the room.”

“That’s a very scary thought,” said Sam with a shudder.

“Okay, fine, no outside help,” huffed Dean, taking a seat next to Cas on the couch, placing his lunch in his lap again. “But I’m serious about searching the show for allies.”

Dubious, Sav was shaking her head. “I really wish you wouldn’t. I mean, I can help you come up with a list from memory and wikipedia’s list of guest stars or something. Most of the characters you’d probably want on your side you’re gonna find in season seven anyway-“

Shaking his head, Sam told her, “No, I’d really like to see the show so I can know what all Dean keeps talking about and the apocalypse he left Lisa to try and avoid.”

“I’m curious to see it as well,” stated Cas, causing her expression to continuously fall into dismay.

“Can’t we just have a session of ‘best and worst’ episodes? An overview of plot relevant episodes?” she asked hopefully. All three men were watching her expectantly.

Granted, Dean had read the books, so he knew what happened; he knew exactly why she was less than thrilled to dive into that again, but there was a part of him that was very curious to see his life portrayed on screen by actors who truly knew nothing about what his life was like. They may have known the story as well as the fans that read the books did, but the actor was not Dean. He wanted to see how he measured up.

“Just put it in, Savvy,” he told her.

Sighing, she rose to her feet, snapping her fingers at the dog that leaned in to sniff her sandwich. Harley withdrew her nose, settling down with her muzzle on her paws with a huff.

“Fine,” Savvy sighed heavily. “But I refuse to watch it with you. I just can’t unless it’s one of the few episodes I liked. When you make it to the end of a disc, let me know and I’ll try to counteract the trauma with a blooper and outtake reel from the previous seasons. A reward. Or, perhaps salve on a wound. It’ll be freaking weird for you, too, but hopefully you’ll laugh at the actors being ridiculously silly and so not acting like any of you. It might make you feel better.”

Sam glanced warily at his brother. “Just how bad is this?”

It was Castiel that answered. “If this is anything to go off of, apparently I have a make out scene with our friend Meg.” Sam’s eyes widened in horror, swiveling to Dean, who was nodding in confirmation.

Savvy chuckled eerily as she finished setting up the show for them to watch and handed off the controller. “That was actually a good episode, boys. There are others much worse.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirteen

The marathon didn’t last long. Savvy was amused by the occasional outcries of “Oh my God, make it stop!” and “Dude! What the hell were you thinking? Why would you do that?” quickly followed by “I didn’t! Dear God what is this I’m watching?!”. She let them suffer for a while, sitting in the center of her bed as she worked on her laptop. Harley was curled up beside her, and she reached out to give the dog an affectionate pat.

“Savvy?” a voice called softly, beseechingly. She looked up to find both Sam and Castiel at her door giving her pitiful expressions of the long suffering. “Make it better, please?”

Closing her laptop, she laughed and slid off the bed. “I’ll make it better. How many discs did you make it through?”

They followed her back into the living room, all three of them suddenly wary and distrustful to sit down and watch anything she would put on the screen.

“We made it through the first disc. Then started skipping around based on what the episode was about,” said Sam. He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “It was bad.”

Castiel nodded in agreement. “It was most unpleasant to see ourselves making such decisions. I would never…” His voice trailed off as he took his previous seat next to Dean.

Savvy noted he was wearing regular clothes again, looking very much like he’d raided Dean’s clothing, and quite frankly, he looked really hot. The hunter was still sitting with one arm across the back of the couch, making it easy for Dean to give the back of Castiel’s neck a gentle squeeze as he smiled at the angel, their eyes locking.

“We know you wouldn’t, Cas.” The affection in his smile and tone made Sav bite back a grin as she busied herself with her task. “False prophecies, remember?”

Rising with controller in hand, Savvy flicked though the options on the screen until she found the folder of videos she wanted. Sam had taken his seat again, though he was still tense and uncomfortable, like restlessness had him wanting to rise and pace.

Turning, she set the controller on the table next to Sam. “Just hit ‘play’. It’ll go through the blooper reels for the first six seasons and then a bunch of videos of the actors at conventions or interviews and stuff. This will be disturbing in an entirely different way.”

Dean looked at her with wide eyes, alarmed. “Why? How bad are they?”

She chuckled. “They’re hysterical. Fans love them. Especially when certain ones get together like Misha and Sebastion?” She shook her head, laughing at the memory of the clips they were going to be privy to. “Trust me, it’s hysterical. Forget they look like you and see them as the actors that portray you, because they are nothing like you.”

Sam eyed the television, controller in hand. “And you just keep a file of all these?”

“The file folder is called ‘In case of angst’,” she pointed out. “It’s a collection of videos that make me laugh.” She grinned, leaving the room again. “Enjoy.”

The sounds coming from the living room after that were still mostly consisting of “Oh my God! What are they doing?” but it was accompanied by laughter, making her smile, pleased to hear the boys actually getting a good laugh, wondering when was the last time they’d done such a thing.

The sound of them having so much fun lured her back in the room though, hanging tentatively back by the door, equally amused by their reactions as by the videos. Dean had a hand to his stomach as he roared with laughter. Sam kept covering his face with his hand, almost embarrassed to see someone who was essentially him acting completely carefree and silly in a way the brothers never got the chance to. Castiel looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be horrified or amused, chuckling in amusement at the things that Dean burst out laughing over like if Dean laughed, that made it okay.

It was funny to watch the way they alternated between freaking out in shock and nearly doubling over with laughter as they watched the actors entertain their legion of fans at conventions. Or when they watched Jensen sing on stage and both Cas and Sam looked at Dean in surprise, who was blushing profusely.

“Dude,” Sam exclaimed. “You can actually sing.”

“No, Jensen Ackles can sing.”

“Why do you only lip sync in the car if you can actually sing?”

“Because I don’t sing, dude. Watch the screen. Me and Cas are up. Er, our actors. Whatever.”

She left them to watch as her phone rang, waiting until after they’d watched through all the videos before extending the invitation they’d been offered.

“My uncle is going fishing out in the bay, wants to know if you want to go.”

Dean’s eyes lit up. “Seriously?” She nodded and he was quickly standing. “Hell yeah.”

Sam frowned, a reserved expression on his face. “I dunno, Dean.” His brother looked at him. “Don’t we need to work on getting together what we can before Balthazar shows up again?”

The excitement in Dean’s face dimmed. “Yeah, you’re right. We’ve screwed around enough for one day.” He looked at Castiel, feeling a pang of disappointment.

Rolling her eyes Savvy shifted her weight and placed her hands on her hips. “I can get you together a list a lot easier than you can. Besides, do you not remember how when God brought Sam back He forced him to take a break? Meanwhile you were out of the life and trying to take it easy as well, Dean. And Cas, you aren’t receiving orders from heaven anymore, right? I think God is saying take a vacation while you can. Enjoy the reprieve you would never normally get to. There’s nothing you can do to help the current situation back home while you’re here. I think this is a gift. You should enjoy it while you can, rejuvenate before your forced back into the world where the bad things live.” She gave him a serious look. “You’re going fishing.”

Her phone dinged and she glanced at it, thumb flicking over the screen to scroll. When her face broke out in a grin, Sam asked, “Are you coming with us?”

Savvy shook her head. “Nope. I’ll give ya’ll a break from me. Besides,” She waved her phone, “I just got in a couple of collage orders.”

Grin back in place, Dean turned to Castiel. “Cas? You up for a little fishing?”

The angel shook his head, the brightness to the hunter’s expression fading several notches. “I don’t think I will. I’ll allow you this time to yourselves.” He offered a hint of a smile at Dean. “How often do you get to go fishing with you brother?”

Though he understood the angel’s consideration, Dean was disappointed. He’d never admit it, but ever since the time Castiel had appeared to Dean in a dream where they were out on the pier looking out over a lake, Dean had always wanted the chance to do something like that again with the angel. It was a secret wish that was too embarrassing to voice because it was almost like he were planning a date or something, since Sammy was never ever actually entered into the scenario.

Just him and Cas, a pier, and twelve pack. Fishing equipment was optional.

“It’s settled then.” Savvy hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll go fake you some fishing licenses just in case the Coast Guard stops you, which won’t happen, but still.”

Sam and Dean looked at her in surprise. “Fake?”

She arched a brow. “As if you would know what to do with the real thing? It’s for one day, and our are printed out on paper anyway.”

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. “And here I thought a straight shooter took us in. Come to find out, she’s a law breaker.”

“You’re only in trouble if you get caught,” she sing-songed from further in the apartment.

Turning, Dean watched Cas for a moment as the angel picked up a book of Sav’s he’d started reading. It looked so domestic of the angel, sitting there dressed like a normal person and reading. Her heart gave a loud thump in his chest, affection for the angel swelling it caused an almost desperate need to move closer to the man, to pluck the book from his fingers, and…

The hunter shook himself free of such thoughts just as Cas looked up curiously, feeling Dean’s eyes on him. For the upteenth time, Dean was also glad their connection didn’t allow them full access to each other’s thoughts and feelings, because he had no earthly idea how to explain his or even what to call it.

“I hate you won’t go with us, Cas,” he said gruffly. “I think you’d have fun, even if you don’t do any actual fishing.”

The angel shook his head. “Maybe next time we can all go.”

Cas watched curiously as Savvy set up to do her collages in the middle of the living room, taking a plastic table cloth and laying it down, her art supplies all neatly arranged to her left, Harley lay on the floor to her right, never far from her mistress’ side, which rather impressed Castiel. She was a good dog who clearly loved her owner. Which said a lot about the human girl humming to herself.

She made quick work of painting two of the canvases black, then set about selecting images from a folder and sorting them into stacks with the rhythmical sense that suggested it was something she did often.

“Cas, honey, you gotta stop staring,” she stated, not looking up. “It’s making my hair stand on end.”

“Why do you call me that?” he asked curiously, head angled to the side he continued to watch her work with practiced ease.

“Call you what?”

“Cas honey.”

She blinked with a start, turning to look at him with a frown, then laughing. “You can’t say it like that, it sounds weird. And I don’t say it intentionally; it just comes out that way a lot. I’m Southern, I use it with everybody. Little girls gets ‘baby’ attached to their name, boys get called ‘buddy’, ‘son’, or ‘boy’ a lot. It’s not like it’s a nickname or anything.” He said nothing, just gave a nod, continuing to watch her as she went back to work only to stop a few minutes later, glancing at him over her shoulder. “If you’re so curious, would you like to help?”

He considered this only a moment before giving a nod and moving to sit opposite her on the floor. She instructed him which pile to start cutting from and how she wanted the images cut, watching him carefully for a moment before returning to her own pile of pictures.

“So why didn’t you go with the boys?” she asked finally, tucking a stray stand of hair behind her ear.

“I wanted to allow them time to themselves. To their own thoughts.” He paused. “Dean has many things he needs to sort through right now. I thought it might be a good opportunity.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I get why he’d be stressed what with the world in danger and him stuck here. Though I’m glad for the chance to have met ya’ll, I can’t help but feel bad at the same time, because I know you’d all much rather be over there trying to save your world.”

Cas shook his head. “That’s not entirely what I meant. Dean is… very agitated right now. I’m not sure why; I don’t think even he knows why, I can just sense it sometimes.” He paused to consider. “So much has happened lately, I think he hasn’t had time to really think about any of it, process things.”

“Like?”

Cas shrugged, and Sav bit back a smirk. The angel still hadn’t managed to make the gesture look normal. “Just a lot. One thing after another keeps getting thrown at him and he just goes with it, going into a sort of mind set that’s much like tunnel vision, focused on the next thing being thrown at him, whilst the other things he’s dealing with get shoved down to be dealt with when he actually has the time to go through them. Nothing is being thrown at him right now; it will give him a chance to organize the other chaos. To focus on himself.”

Sav shook her head. “I don’t think I help in the irritation department. I try to be mindful, but I still think I get on Dean’s nerves a lot. He’s most comfortable around you two. The three of you are good for each other.” She smiled to herself, reaching for another photo. “You and Dean are good for each other.”

He glanced at her. “My siblings would disagree with you, saying the Winchesters have been a most grievous influence one me.”

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and you should totally listen to them because you were so much happier and at ease with yourself when you did.”

“You are being facetious.”

She grinned, wrinkling her nose. “Only a little.” She smiled at him, earnest now. “Seriously though. You’re better for having met Sam and Dean and you know it. You love them, and they love you, so screw what your siblings think. They all suck.” She faltered. “Well, not all of them, but most of them.”

They worked in silence for several minutes. Castiel continued cutting pictures even as she began applying them to the blacken canvases.

“Can I ask you something?” she questioned tentatively, brown eyes glancing at him. He nodded. “Are you always going to stay with Sam and Dean?”

“Yes.”

“Even if they stop hunting?”

“I don’t believe they will ever fully stop.”

“What will you do if they settle down in one place? Will the three of you live together?”

Cas frowned at her, shaking his head. “I don’t know. We would decide when and if that ever comes up, I suppose. I have no where else to be, and would feel uncomfortable being any great distance away from them for extended periods of time.”

“You want to be close by.”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever thought about what you would do in such a situation? Y’know, if the boys give up hunting? Go back to Heaven? Stay on earth? Live like a human?”

“Yes,” he said again. She frowned and he clarified. “I would choose to stay on earth, living as a human in order to stay with my family here.”

“The whole shebang? Even falling in love and getting married?”

The angel gave a slight shake of his head. “That would be very unlikely.”

“Why?” she asked in surprise. “You’re easy to fall in love with!” He looked at her in surprise and she flushed bright red. “I didn’t mean that quite the way it…” Shaking her head to clear away her thoughts, she tried again, “Watching the show? You won over the fans almost immediately, all of us coming to love you more every time you were on screen. Not even because you were trying or because you were doing something great. You were being yourself, and it completely endeared you to us. And the way you and Dean went from not really liking each other, to awkward alliance, to a perfect pair… I dunno, we all just came to love both of you even more as your friendship grew.” Her brown eyes locked with blue. “I don’t see why you’d sell yourself short like that.”

“I’ve already found the person I love,” he told her. Her eyes widened and she almost seemed to be holding her breath in anticipation. “But I can do nothing about it. It is forbidden for me to pursue them.”

Her face went stony, eyes flashing angrily. Cas didn’t get much more of a warning he’d unintentionally just stepped on a landmine. “That is absolute bullcrap!” she exclaimed angrily. He blinked with a start. “Who says you can’t go after the person you’re in love with them? Boy, you better hit the ground running to chase after them, I don’t care what anyone says! See, things like this make me wish I lived in your world, I would take a Louisville Slugger to someone’s face.” Her rant stopped and she let her gaze flick over the angel’s face. “Why aren’t you allowed to be with the person you love?”

Smiling, Cas reached for another photo and set about trimming it. “You misunderstand. I’m not allowed to pursue them. Should they wish to instigate a relationship, I am more than able to do so, I simply cannot be the one to do it.”

She falter, sitting back with a frown as she considered this. After a moment, she shook her head, her white ponytail flicking at the movement. “That’s still dumb. You should be able to walk up to a person and be all ‘Hey, I love you. What say you to you, me, and forever?’ Y’know? If you aren’t allowed to show interest in the other person, they may not realize it’s there, and if they have feelings for you, well, then they may not act on them because they think they’ll get shot down. It’s like setting yourself up to be alone.”

He chuckled softly, mouth curling upward as he nodded. “Attempts to show interest do require a great amount of stealth and subtlety, I’ll admit.”

“You should just walk up and kiss the person. Wham!” She clapped her hands together. “Lay it on them till their knees go weak. You’ll get a love confession, I’m sure.” She grinned widely at him, eyes dancing with laughter.

His shoulders shook with amusement at the mental image that provided, the shock it would surely cause. “I am not confident I have the skill required for that course of action to be successful.”

“Why not?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never sought a romantic relationship before.”

“You’ve never been kissed,” she deduced, an almost maniacal grin on her face. He shrugged, and she let out a high-pitched noise and giggle, clamping her hands over her mouth to control the sound. He scowled, not appreciating her amusement. “Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to squee, I’m not laughing at you, I just…” She clamped down hard on her bottom lip, looking at him guiltily while a wide grin stretched across her face again. “I think that’s totally adorable.” He blinked in surprise, not at all seeing what was adorable about the situation. “Your first love, your first kiss… it’s all really sweet. And you want forever with, uh, this person, right?”

“Why would I want anything less?”

She let loose that same inane noise again like she couldn’t help it, her entire face lighting up with joy and she rapidly clapped her hands together. He didn’t feel he was being mocked this time, even if he didn’t fully understand why she seemed to be brought such excitement

“That is so romantic.” She reached across the space to clamp her fingers around his wrist. He frowned at her hand, blue gaze flicking to her face. “And if it’s Meg or Dean, you have my full support.”

He blinked with a start. “Why are you in support of either of them, if I may ask? Since you have no preference to whom I choose.”

She withdrew her hand. “Oh no, I have a preference, I assure you, but I also have a contingency plan. If they would love you and be true to you the way you would be to them, then I’m okay with them. If it’s Meg, though, and she were to ever betray you- she would probably have to die, though.” He nodded and continued cutting. She angled her head, still amused. “You’re not going to tell me who it is, are you?”

“There’s no alcohol involved for a drunk confession, so no.”

She barked with laughter, still chuckling as she began to arranged the first of the images down on the canvas. “Ah, Cas, you’re positively adorkable. I love you.”

He blinked with surprise. “Thank you,” he responded, which only evoked another snicker of amusement from her.

Dean and Sam threw up a hand, waving good-bye to Robby as he pulled off, leaving the Winchester’s at their current ‘home’. Sam held up the cloth bag filled with containers he was holding.

“Shall we?”

Dean looked down at the knotted plastic bag he held, then glared at his brother as they both made their way down the driveway to the back of the building. “How come you got to carry the grub and I get stuck with the fish guts, dude? Why the hell are we even bringing fish guts to Savvy, anyway?”

His little brother shrugged, glancing at the windows as they passed. “Sounds like she’s having fun in there again.”

Dean shrugged, just hoping the angel wasn’t in there spying on her again. “At least it’s not as loud- oh hey! That’s Aerosmith!” He gave his brother an approving look. “See? I can get behind that. Not that other garbage she’s normally listening to.”

Sam went in ahead of him, both of them struggling with the bags they were holding, trying to set them down in the kitchen, get in and get the door shut behind them. Dean noted the change from Aerosmith to Billy Squier’s ‘Everybody Wants You’, nodding to himself that yes, if she played music like this more often he could definitely-

The feminine laughter from the living room cut into his thought as he and his brother turned curiously.

“That’s right, you’re getting it. God, Cas, you really have no sense of rhythm,” she stated, laugh bubbling forth as she and Castiel danced in sync to the song playing. The angel watched and mimicked her every move, though lacking the fluidity to the movements. Their backs were to the dining room, neither of them even noticing the appearance of the hunter siblings. “You’re getting better though.”

“I like this song,” he told her. “I think that has something to do with it.”

She laughed. “It helps.” When they turned, Savvy noticed them, surprise on her face and eyes widening while Sam had to turn away, biting down on his lips to keep from laughing. “Oh! You’re back.” Embarrassed, all movement from her body stopped. Castiel leaned over from his spot beside her so her could see through the doorway as well.

Scratch that. Dean hated her with every fiber in his being, more than he’d hated any evil thing to have ever tormented the earth with its existence.

Pointing the remote at the sound device in the corner, Savvy waited until the volume of the music was strictly back ground noise before she grinned at them, placing her hands in her back pockets as she came into the room.

“Did you have fun?” she questioned.

Sam sounded as though he were barely keeping from laughing when he answered. Dean really didn’t trust himself at that moment to speak anyway. “Oh yeah, it was great.” His eyes flicked past her to Castiel now standing just behind her. “Seems we missed the show here though.”

The angel glanced down, almost embarrassed. “I have no rhythm,” he confessed.

Sam did laugh then, immediately giving their friend an apologetic look, “I’m sure you just haven’t gotten the hang of it yet. It’s something you kind of learn. Next thing you know, you’ll be partying like it’s nineteen-ninety-nine.”

That made Sav snort with laughter. “I haven’t introduced him to Prince. Just the stuff he’d be familiar with from being around you two.” Dean’s expression caught her attention, mirth dying off and wariness taking its place. “Did you not have fun, Dean? Did you catch anything?”

He held the plastic bag out to her with a forced smile. “This. Just for you.”

Reaching for the bag, she angled her head curiously. Sam gave his shoulder a shove. “It’s fish guts, Savvy. I have the food.”

Her face still lit up. “Aw! Thank you!” she exclaimed, taking the plastic bag from Dean. This was not the reaction he’d been hoping for. He’d been hoping for disgust, horror, revulsion. Or any combination of the three. She untied the knot to look at the plastic container faintly giving off a fishy smell. “It’s for my gardenia bush. Ya’ll get washed up, I’ll go plant this, and then we’ll have dinner, okay?”

“Dibs on the shower,” exclaimed Sam. “I call dibs!”

Growling, Dean glared over his shoulder at the man grinning. Ignoring him, Sam shoved past to go retrieve a change of clothes from his duffel. When the younger Winchester was safely locked away in the bathroom, Dean scowled down at the floorboards beneath his feet. He couldn’t exactly go sit in the living room like this, and couldn’t be trusted to be left alone with Savvy to go sit outside. Sighing heavily, he plopped down into one of the wooden chairs at the table, smelling like salt water and fish, still angry and angrier still because this time he knew his anger had a name- ‘jealousy’.

Jealous over Cas.

He raked a hand over his face, lost as to what that meant and what he was suppose to do. God help him.

The angel in question stepped in front of him, causing the hunter to look up questioningly. Cas was smirking in amusement at him, making Dean self-conscious. He tentatively touched his face, worried. “What? Do I have fish guts on my face or something?”

The other man shook his head. “No. You’re face is fine.” That smirk grew into a lopsided grin, and Cas reached up to run his index finger down the length of his own nose, then mimicked the move on Dean’s. “You got some sun. It makes your freckles more obvious. And your hair has hints of blond in it now, on the ends.” The hunter blushed profusely; hoping the sun he’d gotten somehow masked it. “I hope you had fun,” stated Cas, moving to take the seat across from him.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, hoping it would cause the pounding of his heart to die off as well with the angel no longer in such close proximity. “Yeah. Yeah we did. Next time, I wish you’d come with me, though. Have a human experience.”

“If you insist.”

“It was a lot more fun than being cooped up indoors, man,” argued Dean, not wanting to give Cas any reason to choose to stay behind next time. Unless, of course, the next time they went Savvy went as well, in which case, swimsuits would be worn and Dean really didn’t want to see Cas’s reaction to the female in cutoffs and a bikini top. Didn’t want to see them flirting or hanging out or even breathing the same air as each other.

“I had fun while you were gone,” Cas stated, regarding him. Dean’s eyes met his, then dropped, unable to hold that gaze.

“Yeah… I noticed.” He cleared his throat, trying to sound as normal as possible, regarding the angel with only a friend’s curiosity. “So. Dancing?”

The angel’s gaze drifted past Dean, to the door outside Savvy had gone through. “Yes. One minute we were cleaning up from her project, the next, she was showing me how to find the beat and move to it.” A hint of an affectionate smile crossed over his lips. “She’s fun.” He blinked and the look vanished with a shake of his head as he regarded Dean again. “Most definitely not what I am use to.”

“No, I wouldn’t suppose so.” What he was use to was violence, blood, gun smoke, and the leather of the Impala. By comparison, a girl like Savvy was definitely appealing. He cleared his throat again. “Hey, Cas, uh…” The angel looked at him inquiringly and whatever Dean had wanted to say shriveled up and died. “Uh, Sam and I were going to see if maybe you could angel express us a few places so we can wrangle up the money for Savvy to keep us fed. Y’know, once Sam finishes and I get a shower, of course.”

The angel nodded and Dean mimicked the movement, letting his gaze fall to his hands. Unable to stand the awkwardness he felt anymore, Dean shoved to his feet and headed into the living room to dig out his own clothes, wishing for once that Sam would hurry the hell up and get out.

The more he thought about it, the madder he got. Ridiculously so. He knew he was being absurd, but it was like he couldn’t help it. When he caught sight of his unadorned hand, he was reminded of the sigil on his heart, the ring of text that was the translation of Castiel’s name on his shoulder, and the fact that all of these only amplified what he was already feeling. Which was probably why when Savvy came through the door, he wanted to punch her square in the face, breaking her nose and leaving her with two black eyes, then turn around and immediately go over to Cas, tilting the angel’s head back and kiss him until he was drunk on Dean. Until the last thing on the angel’s mind was some slip of a girl who probably couldn’t hold her own for thirty seconds against even the tamest of the things they fought.

Dean struck out angrily at the cue ball, sending it cracking into the arranged cluster of multi-colored balls. “I’m telling you we have a serious problem on our hands, Sam!”

His brother stood back, watching the balls fall into different pockets. “And I’m telling you, I think you’re reading too much into this.”

“Cas likes her! How is that reading too much into the situation?”

“So what if he does?” Dean’s head snapped up with such a look of fury, Sam actually eased a step back, hands up. “Hey, I’m not the enemy here. I just want to know why whether or not he likes her has you so upset.”

“Because-“ he exclaimed, then caught himself, looking to see who all was around to overhear them. He continued in a hiss, “Because the world as we know it is about to end! Because we need every man on the field we can get! Because this is probably a fight we aren’t going to walk away from! Now you can see how some innocent girl in a completely safe world where the bad stuff doesn’t live would be exceptionally appealing. If you had to choose to fall in love with someone somewhere where you would be safe or go back into a battlefield that’s probably going to become some new level of Hell, which option would you go for?”

Sam took over when Dean wildly missed a ball. His elder brother hadn’t drank in months, but Sam had a feeling Dean would be trashed by the time they got him home. If him waving for another beer was anything to go by, at least.

“While you have a point Dean, I really don’t think that’s anything we need be worried about at the moment.”

“You don’t think we need to be worried about if he’s falling in love with Savvy?”

“He’s known her a week, dude!”

“And you’ve seen them together!” argued Dean. “What do we do if we’re met with the worst case scenario? Just let him stay behind when Balthazar shows up to take us home? I can’t force him to go with us, Sam, he’d hate me for it.”

The taller male rolled his eyes. “Even in your hypothetical situation based entirely on wild allegations and paranoid insecurity, I do not think Cas would abandon us. Even if he were madly, desperately in love with her –which he isn’t- Cas would still return home with us to fight the good fight.” Dean glared at him, opening his mouth to challenge. “Reason one, Cas is loyal. Two, it’s Cas’s fight, too. Three, you are his parabatai, so he has your back until you both draw your last breath. You two are practically married in every way but the ones that count, but you’re too blind to see it, which is why you are so jealous you can’t see straight.”

“What?”

Sam clicked his tongue. “I gotta tell you, normally, you look good in green.” He shook his head. “Not this time.”

Scoffing, Dean moved around the table to set up his shot, eyes flicking over the orbs still on the table. “You’re cracked.”

“And you’re being a stubborn ass,” accused Sam, slamming his hands down on the table, making his brother look up, surprised to see the anger on his younger sibling’s face. “You and Cas have been walking down this road since you first met, it was pretty much inevitable. Anyone who knows either of you knows you’re both in love with the other one, why they hell else would so many people jokingly bring it up time and time again, Dean? People who aren’t friends, who’ve never even spoken like Meg and Balthazar? Why do you think Cas is willing to throw away everything he’s ever known when he could probably go back home with relative ease? Here is a man who has bucked everything he’s ever known, has died for you, nearly gotten himself killed countless other times, has done everything but put up a damn billboard that says ‘Hey, I love you. Can I keep you forever?’ and yet you’re too blind to realize it!”

“If you think that’s true, why’d you tell me to go make a life with Lisa?” demanded Dean angrily, throwing out his hands.

Sam’s tone softened, but was still just as angry. “Because I second guessed myself when you didn’t do anything about the obvious feelings you have for him! At least tell the guy! Let him decide what he wants from there! Shit, Dean, if you lose him, you’re only gonna have yourself to blame on this one because you didn’t grab a hold of him and hang on when you had the chance! It’s only fair he be allowed to move on if he thinks you’re never gonna love him in return.”

“But… I!” The words were choked off, his mouth open and working uselessly while Sam continued to watch him, face pinched in his most serious bitch face. The anger the younger Winchester felt at Dean’s disregard for Cas’s feelings showed clearly now, for someone who had been such a good friend to both of them and had been through so much with the two of them. Sam’s fiercely protective nature was taking over and seeing Dean as the threat.

“Being able to even admit it will make it easier to actually tell him later,” Sam stated flatly, arms folded impatiently as he continued to glare. “And you will have to tell him, because he’s clearly not going to be the one to take that step.” He gaze flicked past Dean, doing a double take and straightening, causing Dean to turn.

Castiel was purposefully making his way through the room, for once not standing out like a sore thumb in his tax accountant attire and trench coat. Sam moved around to lean against the table next to Dean as the angel reached them, blue gaze flicking to both of their faces.

“Is everything all right?” he asked in gruff concern, gaze flicking around to other people in the building. “You’re both angry. Should we leave?”

The angel had sensed Dean's mounting agitation and immediately flown to see if they needed help. Pointedly, Sam looked at Dean to respond, his brother’s anger clearly draining from his body in the angel’s presence. “Nah, Cas. We’ll give you a call when we’re ready to head home.” Sam snorted and shook his head, but said nothing.

The other man nodded. “Very well, then. I’ll return home.” His gaze drifted from Sam’s face to Dean’s, lingering there. “Try to stay out of trouble. I don’t know if Savvy has a First Aid kit.”

A wry smile passed over Dean’s face at that, watching as the angel turned and walked away. The elder man didn’t speak until the door had closed behind Cas.

“Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m in love with an angel,” he admitted softly in miserable defeat.

Sam smiled ruefully, lifting a hand to give his brother’s shoulder a squeeze. “I know, man. I know.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen

The throbbing of his head was what finally forced him awake. It was murderous really, like a monkey with a sledgehammer, pounding away at Dean’s skull from the inside. He groaned painfully, brows furrowing and eyes clamped shut, wishing to drift back off into sleep so his head would stop aching.

“Dean?” a voice whispered softly.

The hunter’s eyes opened in surprise at the proximity of the voice, coming face to face with blue eyes that contemplated him. “Cas?”

His voice was a croak, and he winced at the sound of it, before looking back at his friend trying to piece everything together. Cas lay on his side of the bed facing Dean, their heads almost bowed together. Blue eyes watched him in concern, flicking over the hunter’s face, but he remained silent. It was quiet, the air conditioner humming lightly, keeping the air cool. It was dark still too, so probably the middle of the night.

But… He tried to think, to piece the memories together. He’d gotten wasted. It had already been early hours of the morning when Sam insisted they head home. He remembered that because Sam made the point several times. Why in God’s name was he awake already? He should have slept half the day away.

“How do you feel?” questioned Cas softly, jerking the hunter back to the present. The angel’s presence and concern made the tense muscles in Dean’s body relax, and he let his head fall fully in his pillow, holding the angel’s gaze and attempting a soft smile, willing the angel to know he was glad to see him despite his current misery.

“Like I was run over by a train. What happened?”

“You got…” He paused, searching for the word. “Trashed.” He met Dean’s gaze again, one hand reaching up to cradle the back of the hunter’s head, the pain slowly alleviating. “Sam called me; we got you home and put you to bed.”

Dean’s eyes slid closed, a sigh of relief escaping him as the throbbing died down. He didn’t know what he’d do without Cas constantly putting him back together.

“Is everything okay, Dean?” questioned Cas again, causing the other man to open his eyes again. The angel was still watching him in concern, having withdrawn his left hand.

“Yeah,” said Dean. “Just had too much fun last night.”

“You had a nightmare,” stated Cas, making Dean blink in surprise. He didn’t remember dreaming anything. “When I roused you, you seemed panicked. Asked me if I was me. You tried to get up even, and I made you lay back down to try and sleep. You made me promise I would still be me when you woke up, that I wouldn’t leave you.”

Dean shook his head lightly, the best he could laying on his side anyway. “I don’t remember that,” he replied softly. “I don’t remember much of last night.”

“But you feel better now?” The hunter nodded, and Cas mimicked the gesture. “Then, may I have my hand back?”

The hunter blinked with a start, looking down. He flushed with embarrassment at the sight of Cas’s hand clasped in both of his between them. He quickly released the other man’s hand, noting the small smile on the angel’s face.

“I, uh, I’m sorry, I…” Dean fell silent, feeling Castiel’s silent assurances wash over him, he looked back at the angel, frowning in confusion.

“You were very concerned I would leave,” the angel said again. Dean knew without it being said that this actually pleased Cas; that made him feel a little bit better about thoroughly embarrassing himself. “Your grip never lessened, even after you drifted back to sleep.”

“I didn’t do anything else did I?” asked Dean warily. “Or make an ass out of myself, did I?”

“Upon my arrival, Sam asked that I immediately cause you to fall unconscious in order to avoid you saying or doing anything you might regret in the morning.” Cas smirked. “I didn’t question him, just did as told.”

Dean smiled back. “I love my baby brother some days. He’s alright.” They shared a smile before Dean lifted his arm to check the time. “How early is it? I should have slept half the day.”

The angel chuckled, pushing himself up onto his elbow now that his hand was free. “You did, Dean. It’s past noon.”

The other man sat up sharply, head whipping all around at the darkness that surrounded them. “But the sun isn’t even up.”

The way Cas angled his head back, regarding Dean with an easy smile of amusement the hunter was pretty sure he was the only person to ever get to see was nearly Dean’s undoing. He had to swallow thickly, forcing himself not to lean forward and press a kiss to those pink lips.

“The curtains are all drawn Dean,” pointed out the angel. He jerked his head toward the door leading into the dining room. A blanket had been thrown over the door before it was closed, in order to keep light from streaming through the glass panels. “It was decided that you just be allowed to sleep.”

Confused, Dean looked down at the angel, brows furrowed. “Why didn’t you get up with the others?”

Shrugging, Cas plopped back down on his pillow, settling back down. Dean thought it was unfair he be that unintentionally tempting. Cruel, unaware angel.

“I promised you I’d be here when you woke up,” he told Dean.

The hunter’s heart throbbed painfully then, warmth for the angel pooling through him, making him remember just why he’d actually gotten so smashed last night. It had been an attempt to drown one’s sorrows so many people were familiar with, an act of the desperate and dejected.

Curious at Dean’s silence, Cas angled his head, further mussing his hair, as impossibly blue eyes flicked over the hunter’s face, and Dean knew he would love the angel until he drew his last breath.

Forcing a tight smile, Dean reached out to give his friend’s forearm a squeeze. “Thanks.”

Smirking, Cas rolled his eyes playfully. “Don’t sound so serious. If I’m willing to die for you, I certainly have no qualms wasting the day in bed with you.”

A bark of laughter escaped Dean even as he felt his face flush with color. “Dude, you can’t say it like that. It sounds dirty.”

A look flickered through Cas’s eyes, for only an instant, but in that instant Dean wondered if the angel wasn’t being a tease intentionally.

Then the look was gone like it had never been there and Cas sighed, “Well, if you’re better,” He pushed himself begrudgingly to a sitting position, like he’d been too comfortable to want to get out of bed. “We should probably join the others. I believe Savvy has something for you.”

The hunter stood, following Cas’s movements as the angel went around the room opening the curtains. Sure enough, bright, obnoxiously cheerful light invaded the room, effectively killing the intimacy of the dark and silence from moments ago.

Dean’s eyes continued to follow Cas as he moved about the room, wondering if what he thought he’d seen had just been a trick of his imagination. It had to have been, right?

He blinked, shaking himself out of his own thoughts when he realized Cas was looking at him expectantly. “Huh?”

“I asked you if you’re sure you’re feeling better,” repeated Cas. “You’re frowning.”

Shaking his head, Dean quickly rose and began pulling the bedding off the air mattress, folding it up and piling it on the couch before they would store in the closet for the day.

“No, ‘m fine. Just-“ He stole a glance at the angel’s face and shook his head again, continuing with his task. “Just trying to piece together last night. Thanks for curing my hangover, by the way.”

Cas waved him off with a simple gesture of his hand, but Dean caught sight of the ring on the angel’s hand- Dean’s ring, filling him with a sense of possessive pride. Which he quickly squashed down, lest the angel pick up on it. Castiel wasn’t his, but damn if he didn’t like kind of thinking he was. They’d exchanged oaths and symbols of their commitment to each other, even if it was only as brothers in arms, to Dean it suddenly had a new meaning, or perhaps just a new realization.

Cas was his. His in a way the angel would never belong to anyone else. Ever.

Acting on impulse, without giving himself time to think about it, Dean grabbed Cas before he could pull down the blanket covering the door to the room, the fabric their last defense of privacy. He grabbed the angel and hugged him, arms around the angel’s shoulders and gripping him tight.

The angel gave a small start of surprise, his hands settling on the hunter’s hips. “Dean?”

The other man swallowed thickly and shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, beating down the names to the emotions he felt and trying his best to make sure that the angel would only be able to pick up certain things, like Dean’s gratefulness for the angel, for his presence in the hunter’s life, that Dean’s life was better for having the other man apart of it… how more than anything, he didn’t ever want to lose the angel.

The angel hugged him back before Dean released him, quickly backing several steps away, wiping a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry, man. I don’t know what the deal is with me. I’m fine, I promise.”

Though he nodded, Cas still watched him in concern, eyes flicking over his face as if searching for what was really bothering Dean that the hunter wasn’t willing to say. Dean broke eye contact, looking down at his socked feet in embarrassment.

He was still wearing his clothes from the night before. With a sigh, Dean scratched the back of his head. “I need a shower and change of clothes in a bad way.”

“I’m sure it will make you feel better,” agreed Cas, guarded concern still on his face. He reached up and removed the blanket over the door, more bright light immediately spilling through. Then he offered a small smile to Dean. “Come. You have a surprise waiting.”

Sam was suddenly blocking the glass to the door, clearly trying his best to obscure their view as he shook his head. “Uh uh! Cover his eyes, it’s not ready!”

With a ‘Whoosh’ one of Castiel’s wings flared out, a black veil between Dean and the door, making Dean jump back with a start of surprise. Sam looked just as shocked, blinking in surprise while the angel patiently regarded him.

“Can he at least get a shower?” Cas asked calmly, as though having his wings just out in the open for others to see was something he normally did. To Sam, while he could see the angel’s wings, they were somewhat translucent, like a black shroud being stretched in front of his brother. To Dean, they were perfectly solid and he eyed them in wonder, one hand unconsciously reaching as if to touch the sleek, impossibly soft feathers, then catching himself and withdrawing his hand.

Sam nodded, gaze flicking between the two men. “Just make sure he keeps his eyes closed when he comes though here. And holds his breath.”

Dean heard that, making him frown and stretch, trying to crane his head over the angel’s wing, only to have Cas adjust and move so that the hunter could not. “Wait. Hold my breath? Why?”

“Just do it,” his brother quipped back.

Cas folded his wings back and they vanished from sight like they’d been a mere illusion, the angel hanging the blanket over the door again while Dean went and dug out clothes for his shower, mumbling under his breath about younger brothers and bitch faces. Cas even went so far to cover Dean’s eyes while he guided the hunter toward the bathroom so as to not spoil whatever they had in waiting for him.

Surprises. Joy.

Not.

After his shower, now dressed in fresh clean clothes and feeling a hundred times better than he had upon waking, Dean tentatively knocked on the door, wondering if they would let him out or if he’d be stuck trapped in Savvy’s bathroom for a good portion of the day.

“Can I come out?”

“Not yet!” Savvy cried out frantically. “Don’t let him out yet!”

“Savvy said ‘no’, Dean,” repeated Cas, apparently standing guard by the door.

Defeated, Dean let his forehead rest against the structure. “Thanks for the recap, Cas. I heard her.”

He felt a hint of amusement wash over Cas at the situation and Dean’s predicament, locked in the bathroom while they ran around doing only God knew what in the rest of the house. He didn’t know how the angel did it, but Dean almost felt like the angel reached out to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The phantom touch was comforting, but Dean really was not looking forward to anything to do with Savvy, her officially having landed on his ‘Shit List’, he wanted nothing more than to avoid the woman.

Worst part was, she probably didn’t even realize the grudge he held against her, and had earned it rather innocently.

It almost made him feel bad for his urge to punch her. Almost.

Okay, so maybe he was overreacting a little. A lot, really, but he felt better having a target to take his anger out on and she was the easiest one at the moment.

It was weird, but suddenly he felt like he had that night at Lisa’s when the angel had been inside with Dean’s then-girlfriend and Dean had felt like the outsider. He was the only one to have taken offense to Savvy; both Sam and Cas liked her well enough, Cas more so than Dean cared for, but what could he say about the matter?

Where the hell did this keep coming from? Why did always end up feeling like he was the one on the outside looking in?

I’m here, Dean, Cas’s voice whispered like a ghost in his mind. The hunter jerked with a start, staring at the door, as if he could see the angel just on the other side. I’ll always be here.

Smiling wryly, Dean reached out both physically and mentally, one hand on the door’s surface while hoping to give Cas the same reassuring squeeze he’d given the hunter. I know, man. I know. He paused, smirking in amusement even while trying to incorporate some level annoyance to his thoughts. No mind reading. It’s rude. There’s a thing called ‘privacy’ you should really look up the meaning to.

There was a phantom chuckle Dean barely heard before he felt the presence of Cas leave him like a wave drawing back from shore. One last word filtered into Dean’s mind as the angel withdrew.

Parabatai.

They made him close his eyes again when he was allowed to come out of the bathroom. He had to agree to hold his breath again, too, which still worried him. Cas was a solid presence by Dean’s side even as Dean was instructed he could open his eyes.

He blinked in surprise, frowning at the streamers decorating the room. The banner tacked to the wall. It said ‘Happy Birthday’ in big, boldly colorful letters, someone having used a black marker to insert ‘Un-’ before the word ‘birthday’. Sam and Savvy were both grinning widely at him, the girl holding a still steaming pie in oven mitt covered hands. Even Cas was biting back a smile.

“Surprise,” Savvy told him, almost a little embarrassed, but clearly thrilled.

He looked down at the pie she offered, suddenly understanding why they had wanted him to hold his breath, and awed by the gestured.

“You baked me a pie.”

Cas chuckled at his side just as Sam reached to take Savvy by the elbow and move her out of the way so Dean could see the table.

“She baked you five, Dean,” said Cas.

There on the table were all differently decorated and steaming pies. Peach, cherry, blackberry, chocolate crème, and, of course, apple. Speechless, Dean’s gaze drifted back to their hostess.

Savvy was blushing now, fidgeting. “I figured, y’know, you deserve a nice surprise, and you looked like you could use one yesterday, so I wrangled Sam into helping me, and then borrowed my neighbors’ ovens…”

Her voice trailed off as Dean stepped forward seriously, carefully taking the pie from her hands, which made Sam roll his eyes at his brother’s reverence for baked goods, until Dean just turned and set the pie on the table before turning back around and hugging the female.

Sam looked on affectionately, pleased Savvy’s gift was apparently enough to leave his brother, for once, speechless. Dean did deserve something nice done for him; he always did so much for everyone else and always thought of himself last. In fact, Sam couldn’t remember a time when Dean had anything that even resembled a real birthday, even while he always went out of his way to make the day special for Sam, even if it was just a cupcake with a candle in it and basic necessities gift wrapped in newspaper and twine.

“Thank you, Savvy,” said Dean in a soft, gruff voice filled with gratitude as he straightened. Her head bobbed wordlessly, head falling as she refused to meet any of their gazes and bit down hard on her bottom lip. Dean chuckled a bit incredulously. “Why are you about to cry?”

She looked up, face reddening and eyes watery; one hand came up to wipe under her eyes as she laughed wetly. “I’m sorry. I’m just really glad you like it. I was worried.”

Grinning, Sam clamped a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Oh, it gets better, Dean.”

His brother looked at him in surprise. “There’s more?” He pointed to the table. “I have pie, man. I’m good.”

“We borrowed a neighbor’s grill,” he began, grinning widely, “and bought all the stuff for bacon cheeseburgers.”

“They made sure I would be able to cure you of your hangover upon waking beforehand,” interjected Cas, the barest hint of an amused smirk on his face.

Dean laughed, rubbing a hand over the back of his head. “Guys, this is…” His eyes drifted over the room, the decorations, the pies, the people smiling at him, and he shook his head. “You guys are awesome.”

Savvy beamed at him, so happy she could barely contain herself. “We’re still not done, Dean.” She and Sam stepped in opposite directions, revealing one of the dining room chairs pulled out and the three different presents sitting in it. “Wouldn’t be a celebration without presents. Unbirthday or not.”

Laughing lightly, Dean wiped a hand down his face. “Okay, now ya’ll are just trying to embarrass me.” He shook his head in disbelief. “This is too much.”

Savvy waved him off. “They’re all small in size if it makes you feel better.”

They made him wait to open the gifts though. Jerks. Saavy was steadily getting further and further into his good graces the more he ate. After his fight, dejected confession, and drunken talk with Sam the night before Dean paid better attention to the interactions between Cas and Savvy, trying to step back and see it with new eyes, not just their interactions with each other, but also her interactions with both he and his brother, and then Cas’s interactions with them as well.

Yeah, jealousy had made him a raging mess, but that didn’t mean he didn’t also have good reason to feel that way. Savvy was sweet and got along with all of them, just more so with Cas, she still clearly favored him, and maybe if left alone it did run the risk of turning into something else, but as of right then, they were just friends. She joked and teased him the same way she would turn around and do to Sam. The brilliant smile she offered Cas could just as easily be directed at Dean.

He’d just been unwilling to see it. He was still jealous, admittedly, but Cas was his parabatai… and no one could take that away from him.

Savvy made him open hers first, since she said it was the simplest gift. It was a sturdy brown leather bracelet he immediately snapped on his wrist, admiring it for a moment.

Sam was the typical annoying sibling about how he wrapped his present. He opened the box to find another wrapped box inside… with another wrapped box inside of it, this one taped with duct tape. Inside that box with a small, glittery pink gift bag that nearly made Sam fall out of his chair cackling as Dean removed it from the most recent box, meanwhile Dean just scowled at him.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

The scowl melted off of his face when he removed the tissue paper to look in the bag. In stunned silence, he glanced up in disbelief at his brother who was smiling affectionately, then back at the contents of the bag, clamping his mouth shut and swallowing thickly.

Reaching into the tiny bag, Dean lifted the necklace out by its cord, staring in amazement. His amulet looked the exact same, as though he’d had it all this time.

“I retrieved it after you left,” Sam explained. Dean met his gaze. “Figured once you got finished being mad at God, you would probably want it back. It was still in my pocket when I woke up at Bobby’s.”

Breathing out, Dean said nothing, just slipped the necklace on over his head. He didn’t try to speak, just nodded his gratitude, knowing his brother would understand.

“And I figured you’d really like that bag,” added Sam. “I picked it out especially for you.”

That made Dean capable of speech, a laugh escaping him. “Keep it. It’ll match that dress you didn’t think I knew about,” Dean quipped back, tossing the bag across the table at his brother.

Reaching over, Cas handed Dean his small gift box that was about the size of a pack of post-it notes. The hunter met his gaze, trying to assess what he thought the angel might consider a good gift, or if he had to have help. He probably had to have help.

Dean bit back a smirk at the way Cas fidgeted uncomfortably waiting for the hunter to open the gift.

Unwrapping the box and then angling back the lid, Dean’s gaze snapped up to meet Cas’s in shock. The angel was giving him a hopeful expression, and Dean’s gaze swiveled back to the ring on a black cushion.

“I thought it only right I replace what I deprived you of,” ventured the angel cautiously, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

Dean lifted the ring out, noting it was made out of gun metal. He tilted it, eyeing the script engraved on the inside. ‘Winchester’.

“Tell him where you got it,” urged Sam, a ridiculous grin on his face as he nudged Cas.

The angel glanced at Dean, then down in embarrassment, being put on the spot. “There aren’t hunters in this world, but there are still versions of those same people in this world. I went to the past to find Samuel Colt, bargaining with him for one of his original guns. I made the ring from there and inscribed your family name onto the inside of it.” He glanced at Dean again. “I hope it is a suitable replacement.”

“It’s perfect,” he assured the angel warmly, sliding the ring onto his finger where the other one had resided for so long.

The next day Sam and Dean went on a long jog before coming home dead tired to play video games in the blissful air conditioning. Ninety-nine degrees and ninety-five percent humidity by ten o’clock was not fun. Despite this, Dean could not keep from smiling, only grinning wider as Sam shot him dirty looks, huffing and puffing, his face all red and just as drenched in sweat as Dean, clearly not appreciating his elder brother’s unexplained cheerful demeanor.

Dean would die before telling him, of course, but that didn’t take away any of his mirth.

For once, Dean was the first to rouse that morning. He didn’t know what woke him; he’d been blissfully comfortable and warm, snuggling closer to the body beside him. He’d taken in a deep, contented breath, freezing as his brain finally caught up with him and his eyes flew open.

Castiel was fast asleep, his back pressed against Dean’s chest with the hunter’s arm curled around his waist. Dean cast a panicked look over his shoulder at his brother, only to find him inelegantly sprawled across the red couch and still fast asleep, arm across his face. Relieved, Dean turned back to look down at the angel sleeping peacefully at his side, regarding him with a sort of fascination as Cas drew in a deep breath and sighed contently, relaxing even further into Dean.

Knowing he was taking a stupid risk, Dean settled back down next to Cas for only a moment longer, searing this one memory into his brain, even going so far as touch his forehead to the back of Cas’ head and then give the other man’s shoulder a kiss before he begrudgingly released him, turning back onto his other side. He couldn’t bring himself to fully distance them though, and moved so that their backs now pressed together instead before drifting back off to sleep. Blissfully happy.

Savvy had invited Cas to go with her to church, suggesting that maybe since he was cut off from Heaven, he plug back in the way humans did.

Dean had been at a loss of words when he’d seen Cas dressed for church, though, astonishment and pride hitting him because the angel was so incredibly handsome and just down right good-looking. Sam and Saavy both said how ‘nice’ he looked. Nice was an insult, in Dean’s book, an understatement. Cas would turn heads everywhere he went looking like that, and rightfully so. Dean wanted them to go out and do something just so he could show the angel off.

He’d affectionately gone over to straighten the angel’s tie for him, though, the two of them sharing a smile.

They came back while the boys were playing video games. Dean could feel the joy pouring out of Cas before they ever even made it back in the apartment. Savvy kept stealing glances at Cas, looking thoroughly pleased herself at how excited he seemed, though clearly trying to not show it.

“Did you have fun?” Dean asked, causing the angel’s blue eyes to flick to him, an absolute deluge of joy slamming into the hunter as their eyes made contact, causing Dean to grin and laugh. “Well, I’m glad,” he replied, even though the angel never responded aloud. “Does this mean we have to start going to Church on Sundays?”

Biting his bottom lip, Cas dropped his gaze, only casting a brief hopeful glance at Dean through dark lashes. Admitting to himself and his brother that he was in love with the angel had been one of the best things Dean had ever done thus far, he was free to feel nothing but affection for the angel over the simplest things the man did that tugged at Dean’s heart, mannerisms and expressions Cas probably wasn’t even aware of.

Nerd angel completely owned Dean and didn’t even realize it.

“So what happened?” questioned Sam, excited for their friend, curious what had him so unable to contain himself.

“I… plugged back in,” stated the angel carefully. “Just as Savvy thought I might be able to. It was… wonderful to feel connected and apart again. It reminded me of how my family was a very long time ago, back when there was peace and joy rather than strife and division.”

They all looked sharply at the door as someone began to knock on it frantically, loud and rapid. Harley rose, hackles rising and a growl deep in her throat as she regarded the door.

Cautiously, Savvy moved to unlock and partially open the door, gasping at the sandy blonde haired man standing there with an almost wild look on his face.

“I’m here looking for an angel,” he blurted out, then held up a hand. “I know that sounds crazy, but-“

“Gabriel?”

The archangel’s gaze snapped over her shoulder, desperately searching for the voice that had called his name. His eyes landed on Sam and Cas first and his entire demeanor lit up from within, like a man who thought he’d never see home again and yet somehow against all the odds finally managed to find his way there.

“It’s you!”

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifteen

As if completely forgetting the girl at the door, Gabriel shoved his way into the apartment. His face was completely ecstatic.

“It really is you,” he exclaimed. He reached Sam first, grabbing the Winchester’s upper arms as if to prove his existence. His gaze flicked back and forth between the hunter and his angelic brethren.

Sam and Cas were just as flabbergasted. “Oh my God, Gabriel,” stated Sam, shocked. “You really are alive!”

The archangel was shaking his head, laughing half in relief. “You chuckleheads have no idea how good it is to see you! And you’re you! Not actors!” His face morphed into confusion, looking at his brother. “Not that I’m not glad, but why are you here? How?”

“How us? How you!” demanded Sam. “How did you find us? Is this where God sent you after your battle with Lucifer?”

“I heard an angel singing,” explained Gabriel. “I had gone on a pilgrimage trying to get Dad to talk to me, I asked him for a sign, and then I heard-“ His gaze left Sam’s to seek out Cas’. “It must have been you I heard. I followed your trail here.”

Dean arched a brow, still in his spot on the couch. His gaze flicked to his best friend, curious and incredulous. “Cas, dude. You sing?” He scoffed. “That I would pay money to be witness to.”

Gabriel blinked in surprise, not having even noticed Dean yet, he leaned to peer around Sam at the hunter who threw up a hand in greeting. The Trickster’s expression faltered, the excitement shifting to surprise and confusion. Gabriel started with surprise, looking at his brother and then back at Dean, his mouth opening to speak.

“That’s, uh, new.” He looked at Cas, his hands up. “Message received loud and clear, though. I gotta say-“

Cas surged forward, grabbing Gabriel by the elbow with a serious expression that immediately caused the higher-ranking angel to clamp his mouth shut. “I would speak with you, brother,” ordered Cas, both of them vanishing in a flurry of wings.

The three humans all looked at each other in confusion, Sam making a questioning gesture to Dean, to which the elder sibling shrugged. He’d long since stopped trying to make sense of half the things angels did.

Savvy had moved out on to the front porch and was standing with her arms folded, regarding something down the street.

“They’re down there,” she said.

Sam and Dean got up to see was she was talking about. Sure enough, Cas and Gabriel were in the parking lot just up the street, squaring off. Cas was seriously pointing at Gabriel, jabbing his finger at the angel while his other arm pointed back in the direction of the apartment. The elder angel was clearly on the defensive- which was weird. Gabriel was a series of exaggerated gestures and arm flails, occasionally a placating show of raised hands before the aggression melted out of Cas’ stance and he seemed to relax.

Dean frowned, not liking whatever was going on, even more so that he couldn’t hear a word of it.

“What was he talking about, Dean?” questioned Sam, offering his brother a sidelong glance. The shorter male shook his head. He had some idea, the only thing he could think of, but that was between him and Cas. Looked like they’d be the next ones having a discussion.

He felt better when Gabriel and Cas actually embraced, Gabriel clearly laughing and clapping Cas on the back.

Then they were suddenly in the middle of the living room again, and the three onlookers returned inside.

Gabriel was laughing and scratching the back of his head. “Oh I gotta tell you, today has been crazy. I’d really begun to think Dad had abandoned me here. Who’da thought I’d run into you three, of all people, while on this side.” He eyed the Winchesters. “So who did you piss off and why did you drag my brother into it?”

“God ordered us sent here while he springs Michael and Lucifer from the cage,” stated Dean flatly, flicking his gaze to Cas who was pointedly not looking at him. “Balthazar sent us.”

The archangel’s eyebrows shot up. “Dad revived him?”

Yes, because clearly that was the important part of what they'd just told him. No, no, don't be worried about Public Enemy Number One and his arch enemy being sprung from their cage. Yeah, don't even worry about that at all. It's not like it's important or anything. Everything's fine. Besides, Balthazar's arrogant ass being alive, that is what's really important.

“He never died. Faked his death, went into hiding.” Green eyes settled on the blond man. “Your family seems to do that a lot.”

“What are you doing here, Gabriel?” questioned Savvy, tilting her head as she regarded the angel in her living room. He seemed to notice her for the first time and gave her a curious look. She stuck out a hand. “Savvy. Ordained banner and sword taker-upper and apparent safe house. God sent the boys to me when he sent them here. I’ve been keeping them out of trouble.”

Gabriel took her hand, grasping it as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, not exactly shaking her hand yet. “Of the three, who is your favorite?”

“Cas,” she answered immediately, causing his face to light up.

He laughed and shook her hand then, nodding in approval. He grinned at his brother. “I like her.”

The three other men scoffed and rolled their eyes, before Dean ventured, “What was the deal when you saw me earlier, Gabriel?”

The archangel swept a brow upwards. Dean noted out of the corner of his eye the way Cas was pointedly glaring at Gabriel, letting the hunter know whatever he was about to be told was probably a complete line of BS. Which meant Cas was lying to him.

“Um, my brother marked you as his parabatai?” stated Gabriel impatiently like he were having to point out the obvious color of the sky. Dean kept his face carefully expressionless and made sure his feelings were all locked tightly away. “Not exactly something we do with humans-“ He shot his brother a disapproving look, which Cas met with an unrepentant glare. “But I suppose it’s good the two of you have gotten him out of his shell and willing to do his own thing regardless if he bucks tradition and pisses some people off.” He winked at Sam. “I’m really rather impressed how much he’s grown. Seems like only yesterday I was taking him out on his first test flight.”

Cas huffed and rolled his eyes. “That’s misinformative. You did not teach me to fly, Gabriel. You oversaw our training in offensive and defensive maneuvers. Strategic flight patterns for in air combat. Anael and Balthazar actually taught me.”

Gabriel waved him off, snapping his fingers and an open bag of peanut M&M’s appeared in his hands, he offered them to the people nearby, each taking some. “I’m here because you geniuses are my best bet at getting back home. I didn’t ask to get sent here, don’t know why I did. I wanna go home, so I’m sticking to you three like glue till then.”

“Chuck’s notes say God sent you here for safekeeping until you were needed,” Sam told the archangel. He shrugged. “Maybe that’s why you were able to find us. We are your ticket home.”

Dean scooted over a little bit as Cas came to sit on the couch, but the hunter’s arm was stretched across the back of the couch enough so Dean wondered if it didn’t make it look like something it wasn’t.

Gabriel regarded them a moment, his face oddly expressionless before his gaze flicked to Savvy. “You don’t mind an extra house guest, do you?”

She shook her head, making a gesture with her hand. “Not at all, though I have no idea where we’ll put you.”

Dean grinned. “There’s still an open spot available on the floor I’m sure he’ll be quite comfy on.”

The archangel just frowned in confusion, and Sam clarified, pointing to the floorboards beneath his feet. “We sleep in here. I have the couch, Dean and Cas are on the air mattress.”

“Is that right,” drawled the angel, face still carefully expressionless. His gaze flicked to each of the faces in the room, raising one hand with fingers poised to snap. “I can remedy that, if you want. Triple this place in size on the inside, individual beds, individual rooms if you want…”

“It’s fine the way it is,” the three other men stated in unison. They each glanced at each other in surprise, a somewhat awkward chuckle escaping each of them. it was funny none of them wanted their current situation changed.

Shrugging, Gabriel lowered his hand, suddenly grinning again, his eyes locking with Cas’ for a moment. Dean was pretty sure there was a lot of angel telepathy going on. Gabriel was being too blasé.

They all ended up sitting around the living room as Gabriel regaled them on his adventures in the parallel universe, even his outright attack on the gates of Heaven just to get someone to come out and talk to him. No one did.

While he talked, Sam and Savvy actually laughing at half of what all he was saying, Dean concentrated on the man beside him, willing the angel to sense him, to hear him.

‘Everything okay?’ he asked internally. Cas stiffened beside him, head snapping to the side to lock gazes with Dean. The hunter gave him a shadow of a smile, angling his head.

‘You initiated contact,’ Cas’ voice in his head stated in awe.

Dean snorted and looked away, pretending to still be engaged by the archangel’s story. ‘It isn’t easy. I’m having to concentrate.’ He paused. ‘I didn’t know if I could. Figured it was at least worth a shot.’

The angel turned back to the other conversation in the room as well. ‘I’m sure it will get easier with use.’

Dean gave him a sidelong look. ‘Is everything okay, though?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then why did you drag your brother off before he could say anything else earlier?’

‘Gabriel has a track record that does him no kindness. I laid down ground rules if he is to be allowed to stay.’

The hunter chuckled. ‘Thought he outranked you.’

‘If I felt my parabatai were at stake, I would be able to go head-to-head with my brother and more than likely win. He will behave himself, so you need not worry about him pulling a trick on you or your brother.’

Silently, Dean turned to look at the angel beside him, letting his eyes play over the angel’s profile until the other man turned his head to regard him curiously. Dean moved his hand to cuff the back of the angel’s neck, before shoving himself to a standing position and heading into the other room.

‘I wish you would tell me the truth, Cas. Don’t start lying to me now, angel.’

Dean felt Cas’ urge to get up and follow after him, an instinct the angel quickly reigned in and tried to control, his emotions going carefully neutral, making Dean angry, even as the other man’s voice softly admitted, ‘It’s not something I can tell you.’

The hunter grit his teeth, straining to hear the man in the other room, his voice a mere whisper across him mind now. Habit, or maybe instinct, wanted him to storm back in the other room and verbally demand answers. Last thing they needed was to add tension to a house full of people, though.

‘Trust me,’ his parabatai asked. Dean felt his pleading, knew the angel felt backed against a wall, that his hands, for whatever reason, were tied.

That was enough to help Dean’s anger dissipate. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge so he wouldn’t come back empty handed after walking out, he returned to take a seat next to his friend who was pointedly not daring to look at him. Probably afraid of the expression that might be on the hunter’s face.

Dean shifted so that his knee bumped Cas’, causing the angel to glance cautiously at him.

‘Always,’ he said.

From his spot washing dishes in the kitchen, Dean could easily hear the men talking on the back porch. The back door was open, letting in a breeze through the screen door, that caused a nice cross breeze with the open windows. The dark clouds overhead promised rain, as did the drop in temperature and low rumble of thunder in the distance. Savvy was back in her office busy with paperwork, having finally convinced Gabriel not to do any angel mojo renovations on her apartment. She let him poof himself his own air mattress for in the living room, but that was about it.

Dean thought it was pretty funny an archangel was reduced to sleeping on an air mattress, reliant on a stranger to allow him to stay and offer him a chance home.

“I kid you not, little brother,” Gabriel said insistently. “Seriously, when we get back to our world, and hoping we all live through this, you need to come back home with me.”

The hunter’s ears perked up, surprised Gabriel was actually considering returning home after having run away for so long.

“I do not think…”

“Then don’t think,” interrupted Gabe. “Just listen. If we survive saving the world again, you will be the angel who has had a hand in saving our father’s pet project twice. The angel who has stood up to our neurotic family and stood your ground to fight for what you believed was right, even in the face of isolation, the angel who was the best of us.”

Damn straight Cas was the best of them, thought Dean with a snort.

“You’ll get a hero’s welcome, Castiel. Open arms, parades, angels falling all over you,” Dean stiffened, not having thought about that. Hero’s welcome he deserved, yes, any praise he got he totally earned, but… “You’ll probably even get promoted and in charge of even larger garrison, if Dad doesn’t make you a full on Archangel. Things will be like they were before everything went wrong, there will be peace and unity and our family will be fun again! Angels use to have a lot more personality, you know.”

Drying his hands, Dean strained his ears for Cas’ response before moving to hover by the screen door, watching curiously but not making his presence known. If Cas sensed him in the kitchen, he probably didn’t differentiate between the sink and the door. The angels sat on the edge of the porch, and Sam was sitting on the stairs, listening intently to their conversation, all three of them eating lemon ices in the summer heat before the rain would force them inside.

Cas was wearing a thin, soft shirt and jeans, frowning at his frozen treat as he contemplated his brother’s words. Gabriel and Sam both seemed to share a look, the archangel asking, “What do you think, Sam?”

The arch angel pointedly gave Sam a look Dean didn’t quite get, maybe silently saying Sam ought to back him on this. Yeah right. Sam knew Cas was better off on earth with them and away from all dick angels in Heaven. Why did his family deserve him now that they finally saw how great Cas was? Dean knew he was great and wasn’t willing to throw him back in a den of lions like that.

“Yeah, that could be a great idea,” Sam agreed, causing Dean to stiffen, mouth falling open then clamping shut. The angel turned his head to regard the hunter curiously. “I mean, if things with your family are fixed and better, if you would be accepted back without negative repercussions, and if that’s where you want to be, then yeah, that’s great.”

Despite the love he held for this brother, Dean really wanted to hurt him right then.

The elder Winchester stepped out onto the porch. “I don’t see how that’s a good idea.”

The three men all turned to regard him curiously. Gabriel arched a brow. “We’re his family. How could it not be a good idea?”

“Your family cast him out. Your family tortured him for choosing to do what right rather than what he was told. Your family started this whole mess to begin with. Your family has killed him more than once. He’s a part of our family now.” The archangel and hunter glared at each other.

“Things are different now,” argued the blond man, moving so that he now stood on the sidewalk, facing the porch. “Things are better.”

Scoffing, Dean threw up a hand. “How do you know? You’ve been MIA since before we saved the world, so it’s not like you have a first hand account on the activities of Heaven to back up your blind faith. How much better can they be, exactly? Huh? God’s still on his little adventure, in case you forgot. How long before the angels get it in their heads to act out again because Daddy’s not there to keep them in line? You’re gonna drag my boy back into that? You have no assurances things would be better, that they would willingly take him back, that they would treat him like the big damn hero he is, because yeah, he is the best of you.”

Rolling his eyes, Gabriel shifted his weight to his back foot, a cherry sucker appeared in his hand which he quickly popped in his mouth and folded his arms impatiently. “You have a better idea? Some reason you think he should be separated from his family? Something he ought to stay on earth for?”

“I told you,” exclaimed Dean angrily, “we’re his family. He can stay with us!”

“Why?” threw back the higher-ranking angel. “What purpose would it serve? What would he do here?”

Fumbling, Dean snapped his gaze to the blue eyes watching him with a carefully neutral expression. “You can’t really be considering going back, can you? After everything that happened?”

“Gabriel’s points are valid,” he said evenly. “There is much hope that things in Heaven are back the way they should be and that they will continue on that way. Things were already much improved the last time I was there.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers- making both Dean and Sam flinch automatically- to point at his brother. “Exactly my point. If things aren’t exactly perfect yet, with a group of us, we can lay down the law about ‘okay, this is the way things are gonna be’.”

Dean’s glare shifted to Cas even as he pointed back inside the house. “Do I need to make you re-watch season six? Did you miss the part where Gabriel is talking about doing exactly what Raphael did? This time you’ll start the civil war! That’s what you want?”

“I want to be where I am wanted and needed,” Castiel stated, their eyes locking.

Dean opened his mouth to retort and was interrupted by Savvy sticking her head out the door. “Sorry to interrupt,” she interjected. She pointed to both Gabe and Sam. “I need to speak to both of you real quick. Gabriel, I may need your help after all.”

Angry expression shifted immediately to a wide grin, the archangel winking at her. “I knew you’d come crawling back to me, baby.”

Snorting, she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay, whatever. It’ll only take a minute.”

Thunder rumbled loudly overhead, making everyone glance up as Sam rose and he and Gabriel moved to go inside. The younger Winchester paused, glancing at his brother. Dean knew without having to hear him say it that Sam was telling him to play nice and not get mad at the angel, reminding him they’d be right back.

Dean didn’t want them to come right back, not if they were going to try and convince Cas that going back to Heaven was the greatest idea of the century. As if he’d read his mind, Gabriel paused at the door and pointed at Cas again.

“I mean it, little brother: think about it.”

A thick knot formed in Dean’s throat when Cas nodded solemnly.

When they were alone, Dean descended the steps to stand in Gabriel’s previous spot, folding his arms and regarding the angel that watched him with guarded curiosity. The cool breeze swept around them, heavily scented with rain. He needed to talk to Cas, but there was no telling how long the other two would be gone. They needed to talk, just the two of them, as parabatai, so Dean could try and find some way to convince the angel that what Gabriel was suggesting was a recipe for disaster, make the angel consider what would happen if things didn’t go well. What then?

And what about Sam and Dean and Bobby? Did they just lose him because he returned to Heaven? How the fuck was that fair? Right? The angels in Heaven didn’t deserve Cas back.

Glare flicking to the door, he shifted his gaze back to the angel, stepping forward to grab the other man by the forearm. “You and I need to talk.” Cas slid off the porch to stand, but didn’t move, glancing furtively over his shoulder at the door. With a growl, Dean grabbed Castiel by the hand and began to drag the angel away before the other two could get back and convince the angel to do something stupid.

Back in the apartment, Sam and Gabriel were standing in front of the window watching the two of them storm off. Both archangel and hunter wore matching grins as they simultaneously high-fived without looking.

The hunter wasn’t really paying attention to where he was going, was just pulling the angel along after him with the sole goals in mind of ‘away’ and ‘privacy’ so he could convince the angel to stay, that his family was a bunch of dicks, that the place Castiel really belonged was with the dysfunctional family of hunters with entirely too much baggage.

Cas didn’t say anything as he allowed Dean to pull him along, just transported them mid-step to a vacant parking lot down the street. With a glance around, Dean realized it wasn’t far from the place Gabriel and Cas had had their argument earlier.

Dean turned to his friend, releasing his hand as they stood regarding each other. Castiel watched him expectantly, face oddly devoid of any real expression, waiting. The hunter opened his mouth to speak, and then faltered, clamping it shut again. The muscles in his jaw twitched, and his throat worked at he tried to figure out what to say exactly, to sort what he wanted to say and what he was willing to.

“I know I don’t have the right to ask this of you, but I’m going to anyway,” he began, letting his eyes play over the other man’s face cautiously. “Don’t go back to Heaven, Cas, please.”

The angel regarded him with a slight tilt of his head. “I’m an angel, Dean. Heaven is where I’m suppose to be. It’s where my siblings are. Where I am needed.”

“You’re needed here, dammit,” exclaimed Dean, jabbing his finger toward the earth beneath their feet. “Your siblings suck it, and didn’t give a second thought about casting you out the moment you stepped out of line. Why would you ever consider going back?”

The angel dropped his gaze. “I suppose… I suppose in some ways, I miss them. Miss feeling like I belonged, like I was where I needed to be, doing something worthwhile. There was a purpose to my existence.” His blue eyes lifted to meet with green. “I didn’t realize how much I missed feeling connected to Heaven as when Savvy took me to church this morning.”

The hunter faltered, struggling with his selfishness when those eyes were looking at him like that. Like the angel were ashamed by this small admission. “Aw, Cas, I get that, man, I do, but…” He shook his head. “Don’t take the past out of context and only remember the good. Remember the bad as well, even if you don’t want to. Remember what they put you through, how they cast you out so easily, the pain they inflicted on you, on us as your friends, how me and Sam were playthings to them, and you were expendable. You shouldn’t be willing to go running back just because they finally see you were right and awesome all this time.”

Cas shook his head. “This isn’t about you or your brother, or even what transpired in the past. The past cannot be changed, but it can be learned from. This is about me being where I am needed-“

“You’re needed here,” barked Dean again. Cas blinked. “Like I keep saying! You. Belong. Here. On earth. With us.” He bit his tongue before he could say ‘with me’, swallowing it back and continuing, “If you need a purpose, you can keep helping us fight the fight and protecting innocent people from monsters. There are plenty of angels in Heaven, why do they have to have you, too?”

A clap of thunder and rain began to fall in sheets, both suddenly shielded by what Dean knew was Cas’ doing. The hunter almost wished the angel would let the rain pour down, it would be easier, perhaps, than looking at the angel head on like this.

“I’m sure I would be able to come back and visit, Dean,” ventured the angel appeasingly. “And you and Sam got along fine long before I showed up.”

“Cas, please, I am begging you not to-“

“My family has learned from their past mistakes.”

“And what if they haven’t? What then?”

The angel lowered his gaze. “There’s not any reason for me to not go, Dean. I know of no reason I ought to stay here when-“

“There is a reason,” snapped Dean, the words out before he could stop them. Cas glanced at him, waiting to hear what the hunter would say. Dean swallowed thickly, heart hammering in his chest at what he was being faced with. “There is a reason,” he repeated softly. His eyes played over the angel’s face, before locking gazes. “Stay for me. Stay with me. …I love you, Cas.” The angel said nothing, and Dean swallowed, plunging ahead. “I know this is way left field for you, probably, but hear me out before you shoot me down. This is completely new for me, but I think if you gave it a shot, we could have something… something great. Something most definitely worth staying for, something worth fighting, or even dying for. And I just-“ He faltered, losing confidence, and shaking his head. “I told you before: I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Defeated, he finally dropped his head, casting his gaze off to the side, ashamed of his selfishness and embarrassed by his words, knowing full well the angel was probably going to freak out. Here he’d probably gone and single-handedly ruined their friendship and ensured awkwardness-

“Are you saying you love me as you do Sam?” the angel asked, causing Dean to look up sharply. Surely the angel wasn’t that dense. Steady blue eyes watched him as the rain poured down all around them. “Or that you’re in love with me?” he pressed.

Brows knitting together, Dean gave a slight shake of his head. “You know what I mean.”

“I need to hear it. Specifically.”

Not understanding, the hunter still complied, some small part hoping this still might work in getting the angel to stay if he wasn’t already turning his back on the other man. “I’m in love with you, Cas. I have been for a long time, but was too unwilling to admit it, even to myself. If you leave and go to Heaven… I don’t think I’ll be able to bear it. I’m screwed up, I know. And me and Sam find no shortage of trouble, but… you’re one of my own now. Even if you can’t ever feel the same in return, Cas, which I would totally understand… you would still be mine. You’re my friend. My family. My parabatai. Don’t go back to Heaven where they don’t deserve you.”

For a long moment, the only sound was of rain hitting the pavement. It had slacked off to a light drizzle now, and the air was heavy with the scent of earth and water. He didn’t even mind when the shield around them vanished and the light rain began to fall down on him. It was fitting really. Miserable weather to go with his miserable feelings.

A sound from the other man made him glance up, frowning as Cas appeared to be laughing silently to himself, all the tension from his body almost washing away with the rain and make him seem lighter than ever. Hell, if Dean didn’t know better, he thought there was a… flicker. A shimmer of light that emanated from the angel, just a small burst, and then the angel was crossing the space between them, a peculiar smirk on his lips.

Uncertain, Dean moved to take a step back, not certain if this was about to turn into another knock out drag out with the angel for daring to throw his sacrifices back into his face by begging him not to return to his family, for daring to think Dean Winchester had the right to demand anything of him after everything the angel had given him.

Then one hand came up and Dean stiffened, bracing himself.

But the hand didn’t offer pain, instead it slid up to tenderly cup the side of his neck and jaw as lips pressed to his in a kiss that made his eyes fly open in surprise. Cas’ eyes opened as he pulled back to meet Dean’s gaze for only a second before their mouths met again, a tentative and uncertain kiss that seared all the way through Dean, one hand resting on the angel’s hip, the other coming up to cup his jaw.

When Cas withdrew, Dean just stared at him at a loss, while that secretive smile played across the angel’s face, the shorter man offered self-conscious glances at the hunter.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he admitted. He gave a shy smile. “And you had to be the one to say it first. I’ve just been waiting.” Dean shook his head, not understanding. “I told you once before: the person with the least power has all the power in the relationship. I couldn’t tell you I loved you unless you said it first. I couldn’t show you the way I felt unless you made it clear it was okay. Everything depended on you being receptive to it and reciprocating what I’ve felt for a very long time.” An amused look crossed his face. “Though admittedly, for a while, I didn’t know what I was feeling was called either. It was most baffling at first.”

“You love me,” Dean said flatly, unbelieving, not even brave enough to hope that was he was hearing was the truth.

“Most arduously,” the angel said with a serious nod.

Smirking, the hunter shook his head. “High school dropout, man. Simplify it up for me. I need to hear plain English.”

The angel tilted his head to the side the way Dean adored so much, those blue eyes playing over the hunter’s face.

He smiled. “Yes. I love you.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Sixteen

They’d walked back to the apartment in silence, every so often stealing glances at each other. For Dean, he was trying to convince himself that this wasn’t a dream or some huge misunderstanding between him and the angel. But being that both words and, well, kisses had been exchanged, he was pretty sure they both understood perfectly, even if he still just couldn’t believe it yet.

He bit back a smile and shook his head as they came around back, ascending the stairs then faltering at the angry sounds drifting through the screen door from the kitchen.

“I am not playing with you, Gabriel!” snapped Savvy furiously. “You angel mojo me again, and I swear to God, I will break a baseball bat off in your ass, you hear me?”

Dean and Cas both cautiously stopped in the doorway, gauging the situation. Gabriel was pressed back against the fridge with his hands raised defensively, Savvy just in front of him with a butcher knife and terrifying expression. Harley was right by her side, lips curled back in a snarl as vicious sounds emanated forth. Sam was in the dining room, gaze flicking back and forth between the pair like he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or intervene, and how safe intervening might be.

“What’s going on here?” questioned Dean cautiously, narrowed eyes drifting over the different faces.

Gabriel was still trying his best to placate the female in front of him, all charm. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again. Besides, all I made you do was interrupt us, that’s not so bad is it?”

She got even further in his face. “For that brief time you took away my free will, and not you, not nobody has the right to take that from me! I am not some plaything! Are we clear?”

When he nodded again, she turned and shoved the knife in its slot and stormed off into her room, slamming the door behind her, all eyes fell back on Gabriel. Sam shook his head and walked away, clearly washing his hands of the whole thing. The archangel turned to the new arrivals only to find them both glaring furiously at him.

“You put the whammy on Sav?” growled Dean. Both he and Cas moved further into the room.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, exasperated as though everyone were completely overreacting. “All I did was have her intervene and call me and Sam inside so that an argument wouldn’t break out, that’s not so wrong, is it?”

Frowning, Dean remember the way Gabriel had snapped his fingers and pointed at Cas earlier, as though his brother had made a point he was agreeing with. Sam and Dean had both flinched, bracing for the unexpected, but nothing had happened. Oh it had, it just hadn’t happened to them.

Scoffing, Dean shook his head. “Not even here five minutes.” He shoved past the angel. “Dick move, dude.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Castiel. “Thought you said you laid down ground rules with him.”

Nerd angel was facing off with his brother, looking ever ready to do some serious smiting. “Perhaps I was not clear. Let me reiterate.”

The higher ranking angel rolled his eyes, pointing to Dean. “You went on in volume about him. ‘Don’t say anything’, ‘he doesn’t know yet’, ‘please don’t screw this up for me’,” Dean blinked in surprise, gaze shifting to Cas who was clearly blushing while still glaring at his brother.

“Gabriel!”

“What? You’ve got the glow on you now, too, so obviously the two of you cleared the air of all the longing for from a distance you two have been working for too long now.”

Confused, Dean stepped closer. “Glow?” He looked at Cas, his eyes raking over the angel’s form, then back at Gabriel. “What glow?”

“Simply a reiteration of the parabatai sigil,” interjected Cas quickly.

Scoffing, Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Dude, you have gotta stop being so embarrassed.” His gaze flicked to Dean. “You know the black bill board signs with white letters that have a simple message and then in the bottom corner it’s signed ‘God’?” The hunter nodded. “You’re wearing one. Except yours says the word ‘mine’ all big and bold, with Castiel’s name signed at the bottom. And now,” His head rolled around to regard his younger sibling. “Baby brother is sporting the same, but signed Dean Winchester. So I’m guessing this means you won’t be coming back home with me when we get back to our world.”

“You knew I wouldn’t to begin with, Gabriel.”

The archangel shrugged. “Yeah, well, if he decided to play a stubborn ass any longer, I thought there might actually be a chance you would consider it.”

“Don’t change the subject, Gabriel,” ordered Cas. “You promised to behave yourself while you were here, which meant not doing-“

Sighing the angel threw up his hands. “Okay, okay. I won’t do anything without anyone’s consent first, okay? Jeez. It wasn’t even a full on whammy. It’s not like I made her dance on a pole or something. It was more like a powerful suggestion, anything more than that would just bounce off of her because of those over protective bodyguards she’s got working for her.”

“From now on, keep your mouth shut about things that aren’t yours to tell and keep your suggestions to yourself!” growled Castiel, turning to brush past Dean and go into the living room.

The archangel and hunter stared after him, Dean frowning lightly in confusion.

“Yep,” stated Gabriel, causing Dean to look at him. “You’ve got your hands full with that one. Poor guy’s terrified of scaring you off, which personally, I think would have already happened by now if it were going to, but I guess that says a lot about how he feels.” He arched a brow, the corner of his mouth curving upward in a smirk filled with sexual suggestion. “Bet you wanna take me up on that offer to remodel the apartment with individual rooms now, don’t you?”

Dean shook his head. “No, but while we’re on the subject, I did want to ask you to switch with me.”

The shorter man’s face morphed into one of confusion. “Switch what?”

“You take the double with Cas; I’ll sleep on the single bed.”

For several long seconds, the angel’s face was completely blank, then slowly shocked, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you being a gentleman?”

Dean flushed bright red and looked away. “Will you do it or not?” he demanded impatiently.

Laughing incredulously, Gabriel shook his head. “Wow. You’re as cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs over him as he is about you.” His eyes narrowed. “And here I thought I was going to have to go through the standard threatening regimen, you know, ‘Break his heart and endless Tuesdays of you dying will be the least of your concerns’ or ‘if you thought your short stint in hell was bad’, that sort of thing.”

Staring at the other man, Dean tried to decide exactly what he was willing to reveal to this angel they’d realized they could never fully count on or count out. Of Castiel’s siblings though, Gabriel was the only one who seemed to truly have any sense of familial loyalty and affection.

The hunter swallowed thickly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone. He looked back at the angel. “This is a complete first for me as much as it is for him. I don’t want to do anything to screw it up, especially since I have no idea what I’m doing, so yeah, I’m more than content to take things very slow.” Embarrassed, he crossed his arms defensively and glared, steeling himself up to be mocked.

Surprising warmth colored the angel’s expression, a smiling crossing his lips as he reached up to clap Dean on the shoulder. “You have my blessing.” Dean’s face went bright red; the angel chuckled and moved past him, calling over his shoulder, “And, yeah, I’ll switch with you. Now if you’ll excuse me,” He pointed to Savvy’s closed door. “I have groveling to do.”

“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” exclaimed Savvy frantically as she came bursting into the living room, clad in pajamas and Harley at her heels.

Dean roused groggily, scrubbing his face into his pillow and forcing his eyes open. He faltered when he saw he and Cas had stretched out their hands across the space between their mattresses and interlocked fingers. It made him smile, even as he withdrew from the angel who was now smiling shyly at him.

When they’d gotten ready for bed the night before, nothing had been said about the change in sleeping arrangement, Gabriel had simply shared with Cas while Dean went to get on the single. Both Sam and Cas had looked confused at first, but then Sam had given Dean the absolute sappiest look ever and Dean threw his pillow at him, hitting his brother square in the face.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” insisted Savvy again, kicking the foot of the air mattress where Gabriel was still asleep.

Sam groaned and dug the heel of his hand into his eye the stretched, regarding the female curiously. “What’s going on, Savvy?”

Her brown eyes snapped to him. “Get up, get your stuff together, and get ready to leave. All of you.”

Dean and Sam were immediately rising at that, all seriousness. “Why, what’s after us?”

She held up a note between her index and middle finger. “Balthazar.”

Sam snatched the note from her hand, reading it then handing it off to his brother. ‘Get your things and be ready to leave,’ it said. The taller hunter regarded her. “Where did you get this?”

She opened her mouth but was cut off by a ‘poof’ of smoke and a piece of paper fluttering to the ground. She pointed to the note that settled on Cas and Gabriel’s bed. “It did that. What’s it say?”

Cas’ blue eyes flicked to her. “‘Bring the girl.’”

Her eyes widened fractionally, then she was shaking her head. “No, no, no, no. Do not bring the girl.” Both Gabriel and Castiel had risen, the arch angel snapping his fingers to make all the beds and stuff disappear, the boys’ bags instantly at their feet. He snapped his fingers again and Savvy was suddenly dressed and ready to leave, her own full duffel at her feet while he regarded her with a no nonsense expression uncommon for him. She glared and held up a finger. “I’ll come temporarily if I have to, but my dog comes with me,” she stated, pointing to the canine at her side.

“You’ll come regardless,” stated Gabriel. He turned to the other men. “Everyone have everything? Sam, you still have the list of allies we need to look for and their skills? Good.” He pointed toward the windows at the front of the apartment Savvy was already staring at. “Our ride is here.”

It was a swirling portal of color, the same orange-pink as the powder Balthazar had originally used to get them to this side. Dean and Cas’ gazes met and locked, the hunter swallowing thickly. Figures. Things start looking up for him and of course they immediately get called back home, and God only knew what was on the other side of that portal.

Cas reached out to give his hand a squeeze reassuringly.

Gabriel’s hawk-like gaze was still on Savvy, his arms folded. “Ladies first.”

Looking as though she wanted very much to punch him, Savvy hefted her bag, tossing it through the portal, before moving over to grab the softball bat hidden by the couch. “I am not jumping through empty-handed. C’mon Harley.” The dog and girl both ran and jumped headlong through the portal.

Gabriel looked at each of the hunters. “Don’t you two chicken out and stay behind, either. C’mon, little brother.” Cas nodded and they both followed suit, diving into the portal like the pair before them had.

Sam and Dean met each other’s gazes, the younger Winchester glancing at the portal. “Guess our vacation’s over.” He tossed his bag in just as Dean did.

“Next time, I demand we go on a real one.” Sam nodded, both of them backing up a step to get a running start. “Ready?”

They ran and jumped at the same time.

Years of training allowed them to roll and land on their feet, weapons drawn and at the ready. Savvy was smarter than Dean gave her credit for if she thought of it on her own. There were no enemies around them. In fact, Dean would have sworn they were in the woods behind Bobby’s. Leaves crackled underfoot at he cautious rose to his feet, immediately looking around frantically when he realized he and Sam were alone.

Not alone, he realized a moment later. There was group of familiar people not a hundred feet away. Gabriel and Cas were with them, while Savvy and Harley stood some distance away, the girl for once demure, with her head bowed and eyes lowered.

Dean swallowed thickly, reaching out to grab his brother’s jacket sleeve and force him to look where Dean was.

Lucifer was the one standing on the end of the line up of people. Next to him, Michael. Dean only knew this because it looked like a younger version of his dad rather than Adam. John had been a better fit for Michael than Adam was. Anna was there, too, which shocked Dean. Next to her, Balthazar, Gabriel, and Castiel; all the angels standing at rapt attention like soldiers in a line up. In front of them stood a very ordinary man Dean never would have looked twice at if he passed him on the street. He was unremarkable, but from the way the angels- and even Satan- were showing respect, Dean knew there was only one person, one entity it could be.

“Oh my God, it’s God,” his hissed at his brother, both of them freezing when the man in question slowly turned his head to glance at them. Dean really wasn’t sure if he was going to be smited right then or not, but for whatever reason, he had the oddest sense the man before them smirked in amusement.

“We’re dead men,” stated Sam flatly.

“Pretty much.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re my brother.”

“Yeah, same here.”

They continued to stare, not really sure what was about to happen. Every instinct in the elder hunter wanted to be by Cas’ side, screamed for him to be there, to grab the angel and run or at least be there by his side when this all inevitably went south. Savvy still just stood with her head bowed behind God. Y’know, for a fan of the show, she really ought to have been more concerned for her well-being so close to an atom bomb.

Dean felt suddenly like he were in a tunnel, his mind getting sucked forward to the beings in the distant, feeling the ground lurch beneath his feet, his grip on his brother tightened. “Don’t let me fall, something’s happening.”

Then he was staring at God from a much closer distance. The creator of everything stepped forward and Dean’s gaze followed without intent, shocking him to see both himself and Sam still standing in the distance, Gabriel now standing by his side. Holy shit. He was seeing through Cas’ eyes.

“Luc,” called God gently. The fallen angel on the end hadn’t actually been looking at his father at that point, but glaring pointedly anywhere other. Hearing his name though, Lucifer begrudgingly regarded the speaker. “You get one shot, Lucifer. Just one. You will help the Winchesters and their allies to the fullest of your capabilities or you will go back in the cage, do you understand? You are not to betray them or be anything other than helpful, or you will go back in the cage. You are not to allow harm to come to them through negligence on your own part, even if not by your own hand, or you will go back in the cage. If you even think about betraying them or anyone else: You. Will. Go back. In the cage.” He regarded him a moment, calm, like a parent explaining to a child why they were put in time-out and what would land them back in it. “Do you understand?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Lucifer gave a nod, only to have Michael elbow him sharply, earning the brother a glare, before the fallen angel regarded their father. “Yes, sir.”

Nodding, God turned his head to regard Michael. “The same goes for you, understood. You are to cooperate and aid. No more ridiculous fighting between you, work it out like siblings ought to. If you can’t behave yourselves-“

“Back in the cage we go,” stated Michael and Lucifer in unison, causing their Father to smirk and incline his head.

Anna stiffened as his gaze swept to her. Dean noted that God’s eyes weren’t a single color, but like an ever-shifting swirl of colors. Those inhuman eyes drifted past Anna to the brothers beside her, lingering on Castiel. Dean felt the angel stiffen, and they both knew God knew Dean was as apart of the conversation as though he were standing there. That same amused smile passed over the other man’s face, before his gaze flicked to the other faces.

“You four behave yourselves as well. Anna, no more trying to kill of the Winchesters, even if it’s to stop your brothers from making a mess of things.” She nodded. “Balthazar, stay out of trouble, but you no longer need stay in hiding.” A curt nod from the angel. A fond expression passed over their father’s face as his gaze landed on a very nervous looking Gabriel. “Gabe…” The angel flinched, lowering his gaze. “Try to keep your pranks to a minimal, shall we? Not everyone has your sense of humor.” His gaze went to move on to Castiel and drifted back. “And tell Gabriella she is more that welcome in my home whenever she would like.” The archangel’s gaze shot up in surprise, nodding rapidly. His gaze finally landed on Castiel, both hunter and angel holding their breath. It was unnerving for Dean feeling like God was looking directly at him like that. “Giving up your immortality by tying your life to that of a human you love?” God chuckled and Dean stiffened even more hearing this. Again God laughed and shook his head, gaze drifting over the face of each of the angels. “How did I manage to raise such head strong, independent thinkers?”

The way he said it, each of the angels actually seemed to swell with pride rather than being chastised. They’d all messed up, but he was proud of each of them regardless, for stretching their wings, for risking failure.

“You’re going to have your hands full with this coming battle,” God began, seriously, “but if you put aside your differences and let go of past transgressions to work together, I know you can see this through to the end and come out successful.”

They all saluted as one. “Sir!”

Pleased, God nodded and turned to the girl who stood silently by herself, her bag at her feet and dog by her side. Dean noted the way she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear and kept her gaze downcast as he approached.

“Savannah,” He said gently.

“Sir,” she answered respectfully.

“Thank you for your assistance and for taking in the people who needed you without question. I appreciate it.”

She shook her head, still refusing to raise her gaze. “I was just doing my job, sir. It was no trouble.”

“Why do you not look at me?” he questioned, angling his head. His tone was always soft, conversational.

She flinched anyway. “I’m showing respect.” He waited as though knowing she wasn’t finished. She hesitated, then admitted, “And while I doubt that is your true face, I know looking upon it while I’m in human form would kill me, so I’d rather not risk it by looking at your current guise. Sir.”

He chuckled. “You’re very wise.” He turned back around to face his children. “Oh, Castiel?” The angel stiffened. “I need to speak to he and his brother for a moment if you wouldn’t mind putting him back.” He raised a hand, flicking at the air with his thumb and middle finger in Cas’ direction, and then Dean was suddenly hurtling back into his own mind, clinging desperately to Sam’s arm as the world seemed to bob and lurch beneath his feet.

Sam was shaking him roughly. “Dean, get it together. He’s walking this way.”

Though the world swayed, Dean focused on the image of God walking over back over to Savvy, then watching as she grabbed her bag, baseball bat still in hand, and the two of them, along with Harley began walking toward the Winchesters. The angels seemed to relax now that their father’s back was to them. Bathazar and Cas hugged, then Anna and Cas, all of them grinning at each other. There was a tense moment where Michael and Lucifer just regarded each other silently for a moment, before both their faces broke out in grins and they threw their arms around each other. Apparently, seeing his family like that was enough to move Gabriel to tears because both elder brothers laughed and hugged their brother, appearing to tease him as he wiped hastily at his cheeks.

“Well,” God said as He was now close enough to the Winchesters. “I hope you boys at least got some down time in while you were away.” They glanced nervously at each other, and Sam cautiously gave a nod when the other man said nothing else. “Good. You’ll find your friends have been very busy in your absence, and beforehand, preparing for this next battle. I’ve taken the liberty of helping provide you with greater manpower. Also, Crowley and I had a chat and you’ll have no trouble from their side in the upcoming battle, so no need adding that to your lists of concerns. Afterward? Well, I suppose you’ll all fall back into old routines and patterns or either forge new ones.”

“If we survive,” interjected Dean flatly. God’s multicolored eyes shifted to him, and he had to clear his throat and look down. “Sir.”

God smiled, reaching forward to clap a hand on Dean’s shoulder, causing the hunter to look up in surprise. “I have faith, Dean. You should, too.”

Then he was gone. The hunters looked around, then across the way to the group of angels who, all at once, slowly turned their heads to regard the humans.

Dean and Sam simultaneously took a step back, Dean shoving Savvy behind them. Not that it would do them any good against that many high-ranking angels. A collective chuckle passed through the angels; Cas broke away, suddenly by Dean’s side in a flurry of wings, regarding him with his head angled to the side.

“Shall we go let Bobby know we’re back?” Nervous and uncertain, Dean’s gaze flicked to the angels now walking their way. Cas took Dean by the elbow and turned him away from the angels, prompting him toward Bobby’s. “They won’t hurt you, I promise. You have nothing to fear from them now.”

When the angel’s hand fell away from his arm, Dean reached out and captured it in his, interlacing their fingers.

“I can assure you, Cas, hearing that still doesn’t make me feel any better. Especially not with them in my blind spot behind me.”

At Bobby’s, much to Dean’s surprise, it was Lisa who came running out the door when he called out. She came out the back door uncertainly, her face lighting up when she saw him while he frowned in confusion. Then she was running down the back steps and across the yard toward him, skidding to a stop when suddenly Anna and Gabriel were protectively in front of him, their angel blades crossing defensively, keeping her from getting closer.

“Whoa! What the hell, guys?” demanded Dean.

The angels ignored him for the most part, his words seemed to wipe the aggressive expressions off their faces, but they still looked questioningly at Castiel, who nodded before they lowered their weapons and walked on as if nothing happened. The angel gave his hand a squeeze before pulling away.

“As my parabatai, they are protective of you now, too,” he explained, before smiling at Lisa and wandering inside with Sam and Savvy.

When they were alone, Dean looked at his ex-girlfriend in shock. “Lis, what are you doing here?”

She poked him square in the chest. “We made a deal and you didn’t keep to your end. You missed your weekly check in. I called Bobby and he filled me in. This place had really turned into Mission Control Center while waiting for you two to get back.” She slipped into his embrace easily when he held his arms out to her. “Geez, Dean, you really know how to get yourself into a mess of trouble. What did I tell you about signing up to save the world again?”

He chuckled and rubbed her back. “I swear I didn’t sign up for it this time either.” Their grips shifted, walking arms around each other up to the house. “It was just dumped in my lap without any one ever asking me.”

“Who’s the girl you brought with you?” she questioned, tilting her head back to regard him.

“The girl we were sent to stay with while in an alternate dimension, if you believe it. Her name’s Savvy. God’s official sword and banner taker-upper. Apparently, she can’t help but come to the aid of those that need her either. You probably didn’t know this, but on the other side of the rainbow, Sam and I are celebrities.”

“For real? Get out,” she guffawed.

“Scout’s honor,” he told her, opening the door for her. “We’re a pretty big deal.”

Almost as soon as they were walking in the door, Becky was on Dean like a dog on bone, right in front of him with eager expression and clipboard in hand.

“Thank God you’re finally here! I was expecting you sooner, c’mon, I need you out at the training field.” She was already pulling him by the arm and he looked frantically at the angels standing around Bobby’s study regarding them.

“What?” he demanded. “You try to protect me from Lisa, but you won’t lift a hand when there’s a real threat in the room?”

Becky shoved him forward, then stuck her head back in the house, pointing to the different angels. “Gabriel, Anna, Lucifer. You’re with me. There’s people I need you to meet. Actually, you might as well all come. Hurry, I don’t have all day.”

Savvy gave him a questioning look and he nodded to her, both her and Harley following the angels back out of the house. Dean scrubbed a hand over his face as Becky was out the door, this time with a mega phone in hand, and dragging him by the elbow again. “Becky, you keep talking to them like that and you are going to get smited. I suggest being as quiet and invisible as possible when in the room with any of them.”

“Whatever, Dean,” she said, flippantly waving her hand then shoving her clipboard at him, pointing to the list of names. “Okay, this is out main list of people we’ve already got fully on board and working for us. Charlie is a freaking genius when it comes to getting us funds and supplies, just asks that we don’t look too closely into how she gets them. The Sheriff and Major are currently running the troops through daily training, with the help of Crowley and our friends downstairs.” She sucked in a deep breath. “The weapons course is taking place in the warehouse right now. I’ll take you by there in a minute. We’ve rented out the entire inn and motel in town to house of the volunteer warriors and hunters. Bobby’s house is packed solid, and thanks to the help of our upstairs friends, we’re able to turn the warehouse into a freaking hotel on the inside come night fall so we have enough room to put everyone.”

“Whoa, wait, what?” He looked at her in disbelief, only briefly glancing up to see where she was leading him off to, and once back at the angels following behind them.

“Your army, Dean,” she said pointedly. “We already have it ready.”

They rounded a tower of cars and Dean came to a dead stop in surprise. The clearing was the size of a football field, filled with people in orderly file, sparring. What was amazing were the sheer number of demons on the field working side by side with humans with weapons, clearly going through the motions with them on how to attack a demon’s weak spots. The black-eyed demon would attack, the hunter would make to stab at them, they would go over the motions again. Over each section, there was clearly someone surveying the collective efforts with a critical eye.

Raising her mega phone, Becky called out, “Sergeant Cherry to report for presentation. I repeat: Sergeant Cherry! Report for presentation! All senior staff needed for immediate conference meeting. I repeat! All senior staff to report in for immediate conference meeting.”

When Dean saw ‘Sergeant Cherry’ walking toward them, he grinned, pivoting to look back at the angels. “Hey Gabe, I think this one is for you.” The archangel stepped forward curiously, eyes scanning the crowd of people. The hunter turned back. “Hey Gabbie! Look who I found!”

Father and daughter caught sight of each other and immediately took off running, making the Winchesters grin.

“Dad!” she cried out, launching herself through the air to embrace her father. Gabriel caught her easily, spinning her around as he laughed.

“Hi, Pumpkin! Oh, I’ve missed you!”

He set her on her feet, neither one of them actually letting go of the other. “Where have you been, Dad? Are you hurt? What happened? Oh my Chuck, I’m glad to see you again,” she exclaimed, hugging him again.

The prophet in question strode up with clipboard in hand then, scowling at the angels. “I’ve already told you I’d prefer you not use that phrase, Gabbie. I’m not God, you’re just going to encourage the fans that think I am if you keep doing that.”

“Holy shit! Chuck!” The prophet looked up at his name, a sheepish smile coloring his face as he waved timidly. “You’re alive!”

Sam was shaking his head in confusion. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you! I thought all the prophets went missing.”

Chuck waved them off, pulling a two-way radio out and speaking into it, calling more staff to meet with them before he put it away again. “I took a long walk with God, believe it or not. Then he sent me out to start collecting your army.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder as he said it. “You can thank me later.”

Gabriel had brought Gabbie over and was introducing her to his other siblings, to which she inquired if she was expected to call them by name or tack on ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’ titles, making all the angels laugh. Dean thought it was twilight zone weird, you ask him.

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” a female voice drawled. Dean turned and was stunned into absolute silence, not trusting what he was seeing. Ellen Harvelle was smirking at him, hand on hip. “Aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes. Get over here and hug me already.” She glanced over her shoulder to someone they couldn’t see. “Joanna Beth, you hurry up and get on over here. The boys finally came home.”

“Sam and Dean?” a voice squeaked before the blonde rounded the corner. She launched herself at Sam, who was closest, as Dean threw his arms around the elder woman, laughing incredulously. They broke apart only to switch partners.

Dean’s head was reeling as he held the blonde before him at arm’s length, unable to fathom how she was really there, then looking at her mother.

“H-how are you even here?” He laughed almost hysterically.

The mother-daughter duo looped arms, their free hands on their hips. “Seems God thought you needed all the help you could get and started by resurrecting every valuable ally you’ve had in the past, since, y’know, anyone that meets ya’ll tends to have a short life expectancy at that point.”

Jo jerked her chin back toward the house. “Ash and the girl named Charlie have joined forces and caused all kinds of illegal magic to take place. I just hope they don’t decide to take over the world, because they totally could. They’ve got us information networks for Heaven, Earth, and Hell, demon killing swords and knives coming out of our ears, all of our people can do Enochian exorcisms in their sleep, not to mention, the funds to keep this massive group fed, which I tell you is no easy feat. Gabbie isn’t powerful enough to mojo up that much food three times a day.”

“Ash is alive, too?” echoed Sam incredulously. Dean grinned at the memory of the mullet sporting genius.

Becky was marching forward on the field, waving in vain trying to get someone’s attention on the far end, talking rapidly into her own two-way radio. Dean didn’t notice the danger she was in until it was too late. Red glowing eyes and a black form pooled out of the woods behind her, hackles of the hell hound risen before it took off running toward the blonde.

Savvy tackled the girl out of harm’s way just as the hell hound sailed through the space the woman had just been standing. The beast landed and spun around; Savvy was already jumping to her feet, baseball bat in hand, swinging full force as it launched itself at her again.

Dean didn’t notice the fight until the vicious growl and snarl came out of Harley, the dog shooting forward to defend her mistress. Becky stood stunned a distance back, clipboard to her chest and eyes wide as Savvy made a point to always keep herself between the hellhound and the unarmed blonde. When the hell hound attacked again, Savvy ducked, using its forward momentum to shove a massive knife she’d had tucked away into it’s ribs and then flip the beast over her head where Harley ripped into to it savagely, the dog’s teeth tearing into the beast’s throat.

Dean and Sam were running forward to help without realizing it. Forgetting they still didn’t have any weapons on them, not even Ruby’s knife, and ignoring the voices that were calling after them.

Savvy was up on her feet again, defensively standing in front of Becky and keeping her eyes glued on the dog fighting with the Hellhound. “Are you alright?” she demanded in a bark. Becky fumbled for an answer, and Sav glared at her over her shoulder. “Are you alright?” Becky nodded. “Then run!” she exclaimed, lunging forward to fight off the creature that could very well kill her dog if it weren’t for the knife in its ribcage slowing it down.

“Enough,” a voice called simply, snapping their fingers.

Savvy’s bat vanished from her hands right before it came down on the hellhound’s skull. Then both she and Harley were standing by Becky’s side again as Crowley sauntered casually forward. The hound trotted, whimpering, over to his side, the demon ‘tsk’ed lightly before removing the blade. He regarded the weapon a moment before folding it up and tossing it to its owner.

“You know, if that had the appropriate runes on it, you’d have killed my dog.”

“Better him than us,” snapped Savvy, posture and weapon held defensive. Harley was snarling again.

“Crowley!” barked Dean as they reached them. “What the hell? I thought you were suppose to be helping us!”

The demon king rolled his eyes. “Glad you boys finally decided to make an appearance. I was beginning to think we’d be fighting the apocalypse without you.”

Scrambling forward, Becky threw herself between the two groups, arms out stretched protectively. Her back was to Crowley and the hellhound that had just been attacking her and now sat obediently by the demon’s side.

“Stop! Stop! You misunderstand!”

“Becky, what the hell are you doing?” demanded Dean angrily. Fangirl was fragging nuts!

“The hellhounds are trained to do that,” she explained rapidly. “He wouldn’t have hurt me. It’s suppose to keep the troops on their toes. They pin you to the ground in a killing position then back off once you lose. You fight them off. It’s just training.”

“Which you failed miserably at, Becky,” groused Crowley, giving her an impatient look. “Why aren’t you armed?”

“Do you see the clipboard? The mega phone? I am in coordinator mode here, okay? Not solider mode. Solider mode is tomorrow. I am multi-tasking.”

“The rules are that no one is to come on the training field unarmed, Becky, for this very reason right here. You could have been hurt, and without your OCD to keep everything running smoothly we would be in a mess of trouble.” The demon’s gaze flicked to Savvy. “You. I don’t recognize you. Name and rank?”

She rolled her weight to her back leg, hand on her hip. “Savvy. Human, of the pissed off variety.” She pivoted to look at Becky. “Are you sure you’re okay, Becky? Am I done making a fool of myself here?”

The blonde scuttled forward, nodding her head rapidly. The rapt, hero worship expression on her face as she regarded Savvy making Dean groan and roll his eyes. “No, no, I’m fine. Thank you so much. You were amazing. Hi, I’m Becky Rosen.” Her voice was all breathy as she stuck her hand out.

Sighing, Savvy bypassed the introduction, grabbing the girl’s hand instead to pull her along after her. “Nice to meet you. Let’s get you off the field to somewhere safe.”

“You know how she is when someone pulls heroics,” Dean called after the females in warning.

Sav waved him off. “Yeah, I know, I got it!”

Dean glanced at all the other faces to have gathered round at this point. Chuck stood by with clipboard in hand, focused intently on whatever was on the paper and the different voices crackling in and out over the two-way. The angels had gathered around, along with the Harvelles. A military man if Dean ever saw one came to stand with them. Jody walked up, with a smile and nod to both of the Winchesters. Sarah came out of no where, running full force and calling Sam’s name before launching herself much like Gabbie had. Sam caught her easily, laughing and setting her down on her feet.

She slapped him on the chest. “Where in God’s name have you been, Sam? I’ve been worried sick!” Her half angry gaze flicked to Dean. “Has he been keeping up with his exercises? Did you let him slack off?”

Dean raised his hands defensively. “He’s fit as a fiddle, I swear.” He grinned. “And now that we’re home, he can stop sending text messages to a phone number that didn’t exist in the other world.”

His brother flushed bright red. “Dean!”

The elder Winchester grinned. “You didn’t think I knew about that, did you? Sneaky like a ninja you are not, Sammy.”

“Well, well, well,” a female voice drawled. Dean looked over to see Meg saunter up next to Crowley. “It’s about time you boys finally decided to show up, seeing as how this whole operation is dependent on the two of you leading it.” Her gaze flicked to the angels. “Oh good. Help from on high. We’re saved.”

For whatever reason, Dean found it really funny neither she nor Crowley seemed to realize who they were in the presence of. That really begged for introductions.

He grinned way too broadly. “Meg, so glad you could show. Let me make introductions so you can all become fast friends, okay? Let’s see, this is Anael, or Anna, general in Heaven who fell of her own volition. Gabriel the archangel, also known as Loki or Trickster. Then we have Balthazar here who’s my buddy Cas’ BFF from way on back. Oh, and we really can’t forget these two, last but not least, definitely not least, we have Michael and his brother Lucifer.” He paused, faltering to look confused. “You have heard of them right?”

He was pretty sure neither Crowley nor Meg were breathing, and quite frankly, the grin on his face couldn’t get any wider. Yep, it was a good day to be a Winchester.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seventeen

He probably should have been more disturbed by how easily he was adjusting to having angels and demons throwing around their powers all around him, or people with clipboards calling him ‘sir’ or stopping to salute as he and the others walked by. He probably should have been packing his bags, throwing his brother and angel in the car and hauling ass to the farthest place on their small planet he could find, since pretty much every one of the PTB’s were all in the same room and agreeing with each other. But the fact that he wasn’t, at least in Dean’s mind, showed an amazing amount of growth on his part.

Gabbie had snapped her fingers automatically as all the assembled people returned to Bobby’s house, his study expanding out and morphing into a type of conference room with rows of clothe covered chairs. Becky instructed the Winchesters to sit on the front row. While they did, he and Sam still chose the seats on the far end of the front row. Dean went to move his arm from across the back of the seat next to his when Castiel came to sit down, but the angel shook his head and Dean left it where it was, glancing once over his shoulder at all the other people, angels, and demons filling the room and empty seats.

To his surprise, the angels weren’t all sitting together. He’d guessed that would be default for them, but no. Anna and Michael were across the aisle from each other, conversing. Lucifer was sitting a row behind Michael, leaning forward to contribute to whatever they were discussing. Gabriel and Gabbie sat together, both sitting like mirror images of each other, arms folded and suckers sticking out of their mouths as they waited for the meeting to start.

Everyone else milled around and sat where they pleased, though Dean wasn’t sure what drew them to sit with who they chose, if it was because there was actually camaraderie among the troops or if they were discussing work that forced them into each others company.

His eyes met Savvy’s as she, the red head computer genius Charlie, and infamous Becky all came in and sat together. He raised his eyebrows in question, wondering if she was okay and how she was handling the current situation she’d been thrown in. She smiled tightly and shrugged.

Yeah, he understood that. He couldn’t really appreciate what it was like for her, but the ‘what can you do’ mentality, he totally got, and sometimes it really was better just to roll with it.

“Okay,” stated Bobby, coming to stand at the front of the room, all conversation falling silent as the old hunter’s gaze fell on the room. He sucked in a deep breath and adjusted his cap, gaze flicking once to the trio on the front row. “Now that the key players are all assembled, it looks like this shindig is about to really kick it into high gear. Is everyone here so we can make certain we’re all on the same page?”

Eyes on her clipboard, Becky raised a hand. “Bela is late.” Dean’s eyebrows shot up.

“No, I’m not,” argued the woman, slipping into the room as easy as you please.

Dean and Sam looked at each other in shock, before the elder Winchester raised his own hand, all eyes shifting to him in a way that made him very uncomfortable.

“Anyone want to give us a heads up on who all exactly we should be expecting to run into that was recently counted among the dead? We have some people we would like to stay dead.”

Sam nodded. “So far we’re up to four people in twenty minutes.”

“Five,” stated Pamela, dashing into the room and sliding into the available seat next to Bela. Both boys grinned and waved to the psychic, who winked and kissed the air at them. Apparently God gave her back her eyes as well.

“You can do introductions and reunions later,” stated Bobby. “We need to get all of our newest arrivals up to speed on what we know because the wall to Purgatory is cracking fast and we’re only losing time.” His gaze flicked to the Prophet sitting on the front row. “Chuck.”

Nodding, the writer rose, glancing once over his shoulder at his ex-girlfriend, who did the same, the two of them meeting at the front while Bobby took a seat.

Rubbing his hands together, Chuck slid them into his pockets. “Rather than the whole wall of Purgatory about the burst, God was kind enough to fix the other minor fractures in its structure, leaving the main problem for us to fix, as it can only be fixed from this side once the wall actually burst. The weak spot is a hell mouth, appropriately.”

Becky was moving around, pulling up a board with a series of maps tacked to it, notes, photographs, color coded pins stuck in different places across the USA. Chuck nodded his thanks to her as she moved to stand out of the way, recorder in hand.

“Like I said, the wall has to break before we can fix it, because we won’t be fixing it at all. It’s an old, termite eaten, and splintering door, for those who need an example. We have to replace the whole thing, not slap on a Band-Aid and a coat of paint.” He moved over to the board, putting in series of pins in various colors around a select location. “We’ll be following Samuel Colt’s idea of creating a giant pentagram in order to place a protective seal on the volatile area, in which case, if we do this right, it will last from here to forever.”

He glanced at Becky and she stepped forward. “Everyone has already been assigned to the six different teams that will be required for this mission. Our support teams will be the smallest groups, distributed to five different areas for the points of the pentagram. We do not expect to run into trouble at these areas, but everyone has been trained and will be fully armed. Our main concern will be at Ground Zero with Team Free Will at the center, lead, of course, by the Winchesters.”

Her gaze flicked to various faces in the crowd. “All of the high-ranking angels and demons will be apart of this team at the heart of the trouble. It is your mission to keep anything from getting out of the city while the others do their part. You are simply tasked with containment, which will be much more difficult that that sounds once the wall breaks. Thanks to the connections of both Charlie and the Major, we’ve been able to get the city evacuated under the guise of intelligence of a massive terrorist attack. We’ll be able to move in, get the job done, and not have to worry about civilian casualties or collateral damages. The good thing is that in the face of great danger, we’ve realized how many hunter connections there are within the government and military, so this was actually done with surprising ease. Coast Guard is currently clearing out the last of the stragglers holed up in the city.”

Clearing her throat, she inclined her head toward Bela. “With the help of Miss Talbot, we believe we’ve come up with a plan to set up a protective shield around Ground Zero that will physically keep anything from passing through until after the new wall is in place.” Her gaze flicked to the Winchesters. “That being said, if we fail in properly implementing a new wall, you’ll all be trapped while their numbers never cease in pouring over from the other side.”

“Then don’t damn well fail,” snapped Dean with a snort. Several people in the room chuckled.

Becky nodded and continued, “The leaders of each team are responsible for the briefing of its members. Start running over drills, scenarios, double up on training. I want everyone running through the mission in their sleep and able to do their part blindfolded. Understood? Good.” Her gaze flicked to each of the angelic warriors. “While I understand this may seem an impudent request, I ask that all of you stay grounded and on the premise before the mission. We need to be able to get a hold of everyone at a moments notice and what with the wall breaking, there’s a lot of noise that seems to be interfering with prayers being heard.”

“When is the mission taking place?” questioned Sam, raising a hand for attention.

The blonde glanced down at her clipboard. “We don’t have a locked in time, actually. Currently, we are waiting for the National Guard to contact us that the city has indeed been fully evacuated and that Miss Talbot’s packages are in place, the timeline for that ends in thirty-six hours. When the military leaves, Team Free Will moves in. Our other teams will have already been in place. Savvy, Balthazar will brief you on the role you are to play in this.”

The girl in question gave her a panicked look like a deer in headlights, head snapping to the side to give the angel a stricken look. “O-oh no. No, no, no.” She shook her head, looking at Becky. “I’m just a girl, not a hunter, and certainly not some badass angel. Moral support or colorful threats of violence, I’m your girl, but-“

“You took down a hell hound with a baseball bat and a Kershaw,” stated Crowley. She looked at him as he clicked his tongue, and Dean thought the demon king was actually somewhat impressed. “That’s no small feat.”

“Failed anger management,” she spat back, looking back at Becky and opening her mouth to continue arguing.

“You’ll do fine,” insisted the blonde at the front. “Trust me. Balth will fill you in, and you won’t be at the heart of the battle, so it’s relatively safe.”

Dean shrugged. “Unless this whole plan fails, in which case, we’re all dead and it’ll be ‘see you on the other side’.” His gaze flicked to Meg and Crowley as he smiled. “Except for those of you not on the guest list.”

“Never thought I’d count myself so lucky,” the demoness retorted.

Ignoring them, Becky glanced at a clock on the wall then over the different faces expectantly. “Well, I think that’s about it for the main part. If you have any questions, ask.”

Dean gestured with his hand and she looked at him expectantly. “Yeah, you’ve told us the when, you told us the how, but you left out the little detail of where is the apocalypse taking place.”

She inclined her head. “Sorry. I forget you don’t know.” She moved over to the map on the board behind her, stabbing in a red pin at the center of the pentagram. “Detroit.”

It shouldn’t have surprised the Winchesters that Lucifer was the only one that found that really funny.

Bobby’s house wasn’t any bigger from the outside, but on the inside… Dean didn’t have anything to compare it to, really, but Sam tried describing the Weasley house, and yeah, Dean totally got the similarities. It was like rooms and stairways had been added without any real thought to the overall construct, design, or layout. What with constantly passing someone when you walked down the hallway, or the way there was noise and talking coming from every room, how everyone was a familiar face, it was an oddly comforting in its own chaotic way.

Dean and Sam both found it fascinating how once the sun went down, it was almost like the fun began. Though they’d been dragged all over the place and run through all the different angles of the plan for the mission, though everyone around them was exhausted from training and sparring and preparing themselves physically and mentally for what they were about to face, dinner was a lively event.

More magic on the angels’ part turned Bobby’s dining room into a proper galley, with long tables and plates and bowls behind passed down the line and around the tables. Bobby’s house rules still stood, no demons allowed, even in the face of great crisis, so the only faces around them were ones Dean knew and trusted. Or trusted for the most part, at least.

Dinner was rowdy with talk and laughter, everyone joking or talking over each other as they all ate. Even the angels, which, given their life, really shouldn’t have struck him as odd. What with the angel by his side, occasionally glancing over to give him an affectionate smile, their legs pressed together under the table.

Secretly, Dean was actually really very contented. Even as he looked around at the different animated faces, some of which actually belonged to former enemies, he realized this was the closest thing to a real family as he’d ever had, the kind other people probably complained about come the holidays, the big, noisy family type, with a total mix bag of personality types that you were left wondering how they all came to be under the same roof.

Yet there they all were, and he realized he was just fine with it.

He was decidedly less fine with it hours later. He was sitting in his bed winding down for the night, half wondering where Sam was, because wouldn’t they share a room? Everyone else was bunking with a least one other person, and while he wasn’t keen on actually sharing a bed with his giant younger brother, Dean could grit his teeth and deal, hoping they just didn’t elbow and kick each other too much. If they did, well, he’d take the floor or the reliable, albeit old couch in the study.

They’d swarmed him then, the three females pouring into his room and alighting on his bed with grins that made him press his back against the headboard and slip a hand under the pillow for his knife.

Becky was grinning the widest, holding out a book for him. “Here,” she chirped. “It went to print while you were gone. I hope you like it.”

Taking the proffered object, he chanced a glance at it distractedly, not really wanting to take his eyes of the piranhas. Charlie seemed cool enough actually. A nerd, but if Dean and Sam had ever had sisters, they would probably have been Jo and Charlie replicas. Or, maybe if Dean and Sam had been born girls, they would have been born Jo and Charlie. He wasn’t entirely sure.

“What are you talking about?” he questioned warily, glancing down to take a better look at the book in his hand.

It was silhouettes of three figures walking down the road into the sunset, the shape of the Impala parked on the side of the road. One of the figures carried a gas can, all three black shapes still appearing to have fun even while broken down on the side of the road.

His gaze snapped up to hers, realizing what he was looking at. She looked so excited she were about to burst. “I really hope you like it. I tried my best. It has a bit of everything, but it’s different from previous books, because well, your lives are different now, and really, how can you compete with the end of the world, so the focus really dealt more with the three of you than anything. Though there’s still plenty of bad things need killing, of course.”

Brown eyes seeking his, Savvy gave a nod of reassurance. “It is good, Dean. What little, I read anyway. You three seemed very in character.”

“The sex scene was very hot,” agreed the red head. Dean’s eyes widened in horror, rapidly flipping through the book. “Very forbidden.”

“Hot,” he accused. “Forbidden? Becky, what did you write? Who did you write?”

“You and Cas,” they said in unison, before they all grinned and burst into giggles.

“It was kind of kinky,” added Charlie with a nod. She regarded Becky curiously. “I wonder if Cas is that much of a screamer in actuality.”

The book fell out of his hands as all the blood drained from his face. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t. Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“I’m glad to know you find my vessel appealing,” Cas stated flatly from the doorway, causing all of them to look. He was leaning against the doorframe with a brow arched.

Dean was scrambling out of the bed, shoving the book at Becky and floundering for an apology all at the same time. “N-no, Cas, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, I just-“

The angel chuckled and Dean faltered. “I’m just teasing, Dean.” Those blue eyes flicked past him to the girls grinning too broadly. “So are they. There isn’t an intimate scene between us or anyone else in the book.”

Head turning slowly, Dean glared at the female with her hands clamped over her mouth, her eyes dancing in delight. Curling back his lip in a snarl, he pointed toward the hallway.

“Out. All of you. Now.”

They grabbed hands and fled, giggling, from the room. Dean shut the door behind them before turning panicked expression on his angel.

“Cas, I really didn’t mean that the way it sounded, I swear,” he amended, wanting the angel to understand that he was not the cause of Dean’s panic. “I have no problem with your vessel. I think you’re damn hot. The other day when you got ready for church I didn’t know if I should take you out and show you off, or throw you against a wall and ravish you or whatever. My jaw was on the freaking floor, feathers. I have no problem with your vessel, okay? I just…” He looked accusingly at the door, then helplessly at the book discarded on the bed, while Castiel watched him patiently. “I don’t want you, or us, splayed across the pages of those books for everyone to know about. Not to that extent, anyway. I would want… that,” He made a vague gesture toward Cas and then the bed, “to stay behind this and between us,” he finished, rapping a knuckle on the closed door.

The angel watched him, head angled to the side and smiling in a way that made Dean embarrassed, the hunter moving over to take a seat on the edge of the bed again.

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful and sweet,” admitted the angel finally.

The hunter could feel the tips of his ears burning in embarrassment. “Yeah, well, I figure embarrassing honesty is the best way not to screw this up, even if I gotta turn in my man card because of it.”

The angel was directly in front of him, making Dean’s head jerk up with a start of surprise. Blue eyes playing over his face, Cas reached out to smooth the tips of his fingers over Dean’s face, from temple to jaw.

“I assure you, you’ve lost nothing in my eyes.”

He lowered his head, pressing his mouth to Dean’s passionately. The hunter kissed him back just as fervorently, letting the angel be the aggressor as he moved to straddle the hunter’s lap, hands cradling Dean’s jaw while the hunter’s hands gripped the angel’s hips. The angel’s eagerness enticed a groan of pleasure from Dean, who forced his hands not to roam freely, but did allowed his thumb to slip under the hem of Cas’ shirt, stroking his skin.

When Cas’ mouth left his, Dean didn’t pursue it, though his body screamed for him to. He was taking this slow, and actually, with those blue eyes looking at him so earnestly, it was easier than he expected.

“I love you, Dean,” stated Cas softly.

The hunter offered a crooked smile. “I love you, too.”

“I know.” The angel smiled and Dean realized the other man just liked hearing the words, like reaffirmation. He couldn’t promise to start gushing romantic nonsense, but if it made Cas happy to have words along with actions, Dean was willing to make an effort to accommodate him.

Keeping his hands on the angel’s hips, Dean angled his head, regarding the other man who now sat with his arms draped over Dean’s shoulders. “When were you going to tell me about giving up your immortality by tying your life to mine?” He asked it softly, not accusingly, but insistent all the same.

A flicker of guilt or shame passed over the angel’s face before he shift to get off of Dean, but the hunter circled his arms around the angel’s waist, giving him a coaxing smile when the angel frowned in confusion.

“I’m comfortable just like this,” he explained, stretching to press a kiss to Cas’ jaw reassuringly. “Talk to me, Cas. You can start with what all you didn’t tell me when you made me your parabatai. Was that a line?”

The angel didn’t want to meet his gaze. “Not exactly. There were other sigils I could have used to make it possible where only I could find you, but I had a rare window of opportunity a very selfish part of me wasn’t willing to pass up. I chose that sigil because I knew if it were possible that you loved me, the sigil would make you aware of it. I thought you did, or could at the very least, but you weren’t even willing to examine those feelings. You were uninvolved with anyone, so I…” He cleared his throat, refusing to look at Dean.

“You laid your claim,” stated Dean, a little flatly. He was actually somewhat amused by how underhanded the angel could be if he wanted something.

“You had already been with Anael,” explained Cas, making Dean wince. “And your relationship with Lisa had ended. You were with so many others so frequently, but you never really looked closely at what I knew had potential between us. I saw a chance before you got involved with anyone else to at least attempt to make you aware of any feelings you had for me, but it also warned any of my siblings not to get involved with you, not even the cupids if they were sent to forcibly pair you with someone. I’d already claimed you as mine, so they would have to wait and see what became of the sigil before they could do anything. Either you would realize you were in love with me, or I would see that we were destined only to be the closest of friends, but it would wipe away all doubt as to your feelings.” His gaze finally rose to meet Dean’s. “It doesn’t make you feel anything, just throws a light on what is already there, making the wearer of the sigil more aware of it. It serves to cause the bound pair to better protect and look out for each other.”

Tilting his back to look at the angel, Dean arched a brow. “You realize that was underhanded and dirty of you, right?” The angel wouldn’t look at him, guilty expression on his face. “I’d just gotten out of a relationship that day, dude.” Cas winced. “What about giving up your immortality,” Dean questioned.

Cas shook his head. “I didn’t… give it up, exactly. I’m still immortal. If you shot me, I’d be fine. My vessel will age now, so that I can continue to live my life with you. I’ll show signs humanness now; my body will want and need sleep, I’ll get hungry. I’m reflecting traits of your nature, putting us on a more equal footing, whilst you are better able to sense me through angelic means. That part of the sigil activated when you told me you loved me, effectively fully marking me as your parabatai as well. Were I not to age, it would eventually put a strain on our relationship, wouldn’t it? When you looked ten, twenty years older than I was?” He shook his head. “That’s all.”

Taking in a deep breath, Dean mulled over the angel’s words, his eyes playing over the other man’s face while he refused to look at the hunter.

“Are we married, Cas?”

The angel looked up with a start, rapidly shaking his head. “No, I already told you. I didn’t lie to you, Dean, I just took a chance in seeing if it were possible for us to be more than friends.” He shook his head. “You have an amazing ability to ignore or shove down things you don’t want to deal with. Feelings for an angel wearing a male vessel falls into that category. Even with the sigil, look what all it took to get you to acknowledge your feelings, and then it still took Gabriel making you believe I would leave to return to Heaven before you were able to actually tell me your feelings.”

Chuckling, Dean shook his head. “Underhanded and dirty.”

“Sometimes it is easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission,” said Cas.

His mouth was tense against Dean’s when the hunter suddenly kissed him. Releasing the angel’s hips, Dean slid his hands up the front of the angel’s torso, smiling when he felt the shiver that rippled through the angel. It took teasing and coaxing the angel’s mouth before some of the tension rolled out of Cas’ body and he tentatively kissed Dean in return, suddenly uncertain in the face of his confession. The hunter moved to press a kiss to the angel’s jaw, the pulse beating just beneath the skin, then letting his teeth graze the skin of the angel’s neck as he nipped and kissed at it, causing Cas to shudder in his arms, kissing him more passionately as their mouths met again.

Lowering back to lay on the bed, Dean took Cas with him, one hand under the angel’s shirt now, greedily exploring whatever skin he could touch, pleased when he elicited a reaction from the angel.

Someone knocked on the door. “Dean?” It was Sam.

Cas pulled back, looking at Dean with wide eyes, dark with lust, but uncertain.

Dean pulled him back in for a kiss. “Busy,” he called out to the door.

“Have you seen Cas? I need to talk to both of you,” insisted his little brother.

“Also busy,” called out Cas, grinning at Dean.

They both laughed at the sound of impatience from the other side of the door. “Oh come on you two. You can comshuck like bunnies after we save the world! Cover yourselves so I don’t go blind, because I’m coming in.” He still blinked in surprise when he came in and saw Dean propped up on his elbows and Cas straddling him, both with lips red from kissing, but fully clothed.

Dean arched a brow. “You need something? Cas and I were busy discussing war strategies.”

The angel chuckled and moved to sit on the bed beside him, regarding Sam curiously.

Sam shot his brother a look as he closed the door and moved into the room. “Thought you were taking this slow.”

“We are. Note the presence of clothing. It wasn’t going past kissing.”

Cas looked at him, almost a little disappointed. “It wasn’t?”

Straightening with a smirk, Dean gave Cas’ thigh a squeeze. “Not yet.”

Sam just shook his head. The grin on his lips showed he was happy for them, which made Dean even happier. This all would have been a lot harder if Sam weren’t cool with it. Not that he would give up the angel because of what anyone else said, but laying down that ‘this is the way it is and you’re gonna have to get with that’ could cause tension and division.

“I wanted to ask how you felt about this whole operation,” Sam began, eyes regarding his brother seriously. When he was uncertain, Sam always fell to seeking his big brother’s take on things, usually siding with them. He had since he was a child. “We’ve got a lot of enemies we’re expected to just trust now,” he continued.

“Yeah, Bela was a surprise,” commented Dean.

The younger Winchester inclined his head. “Who has a history of selling us out if it benefits her and was last seen being dragged off into hell for having sold her soul for her family’s fortune. I’m just worried. When that barrier or whatever goes up, if we aren’t able to fix the wall, we’ll be stuck inside, but I don’t know if that applies to our allies who aren’t human. They may be able to just poof somewhere else. Or abandon us there hoping whatever we’re in there with eats us, knowing eventually the wall has to go up to ensure the safety of the world.”

“Except nothing will be able to get in or out of the barrier,” a voice drawled. Crowley regarded them from the corner of the room, drink in hand. “If we could come and go as we like, that would also mean something from the other side probably could as well, thus the negating the containment field.”

“So, you, Meg, and the others are willing to take the risk of a permanent dirt nap along with the rest of us, eh?” questioned Dean.

Crowley shrugged. “You need the numbers, we need the world saved. If the world ends, the same fate awaits us all, wouldn’t you say? Besides, I still have a debt to clear, on top of which,” He motioned toward the ceiling vaguely. “I was made a most generous offer for my assistance I really couldn’t turn down.”

“What was that?”

“I help; I get to continue existing.”

“Generous. I can see why you didn’t turn it down,” Sam said. Crowley tipped his glass toward him. “What guarantee do we have as far a other people’s cooperation? The demons will listen to you, I get that. What about Bela? She’s sold us out more than once, sold out her own family for a fortune.”

The demon king rolled his eyes. “That would be a wrong assumption on your part. All the allies revived were sent to earth from on high, including the lovely Miss Talbot.”

Dean shook his head. “There’s no way. She called us with a Hell Hound on her tail and we left her to it. I figured the next time I saw her would be when I landed in Hell myself.”

“The dog was called off,” argued Crowley. “And new rules set in place. We don’t make deals with victimized children. Taking advantage of an adult’s desperation is one thing, but not a child who is only sin was being born to a lecherous father and a mother who was willing to pretend nothing was wrong.” He shrugged. “She had made a deal, though, so her life was forfeit, it was just a matter of where she was to go in death. I had one of the reapers, a friend of yours I believe, Tessa, escort her upstairs and explain the situation.” He sauntered forward a step, gesturing as a thought occurred to him. “By the by, the reapers will also be aiding us in Detroit. Death was kind enough to supply us with a small garrison. Since what we’ll be fighting isn’t human, they’re capable of killing with a single touch just as Death is. They’re capable anyway, they just don’t. The kid gloves are off for this fight though.”

“We’re really breaking out the big guns, huh?” questioned Sam, frowning as he considered this.

Crowley shrugged. “More like a group of the craziest, most unpredictable twats stupid enough to think they stand a snowball’s chance in Hell, so it’s really more of a loose cannon that packs a wallop than a big gun, actually.” He clicked his tongue. “I figure the man upstairs thought we’d be the only ones to take the job, so here we are.” His gaze flicked to the each of their faces. “A motley crew of humans, the two sons of an obsessed hunter- one of them recently gay, angelic reinforcements- quite a few of them fallen, Lucifer himself, not to mention me and mine. All settin’ aside our differences to save this puny rock we all live on.”

Nodding, Sam and Dean shared a look. “Yeah,” said the taller male, “there’s no way that could end badly.”

Dean shook his head. “Nope, not at all. Guaranteed happy ending.” He frowned and pointed at Crowley. “And I am not gay, dude. I’m dating an angel, so I’m a lot more complicated than that. Don’t put me in a box.”

His brother nodded in agreement. “Yeah, don’t confused his Cassexuality for homosexuality or you’ll get decked.” He and Dean shared a look. “How dare he insult you like that.”

Dean snorted and threw up a hand. “I know, and I’m standing right here.”

They both looked at the angel to join in and Cas held up his hands. “I’m just glad were dating, I don’t care what you call it.”

Sam made a face, mouth wilting at the corners as he regarded his brother. “I dunno if I’d consider myself lucky, I mean, look who all are your in-laws now.”

Crowley nodded. “I thought things were awkward with my first wife.” He raised his glass to Dean. “You’re brother-in-law is Satan and your Father-in-law is God.” He gave a low whistle. “Better make sure to get one helluva good present for everyone at Christmas.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Eighteen

Savvy’s stay in their world was a permanent one, but being that she and her doppelganger from their world had simply been swapped out, it wasn’t really like much had changed. The one without knowledge of the supernatural world now lived in a world where the she was safe from it, whist their Savvy took her place in their world. They weren’t exact replicas of each other, from one world to the next, different choices had been made, not many, but still, and Balthazar had removed whatever extra knowledge from the doppelganger and implanted it into Savvy’s mind so that she would be able to completely integrate herself into her double’s life.

Sam watched as she regarded the motorcycle she’d just parked, her helmet under her arm as she frowned at the machine.

“I have no idea how I just drove this thing and yet I know I can as easy as breathing,” she stated. Turning her head to regard the hunter, she pointed accusingly at the vehicle. “I freaking race motorcycles, Sam! Why? Why would I do this? Why would I do this to my poor mother?”

The hunter shrugged, glancing around at the people making their way up and down the sidewalks and in and out of shops around them. “I dunno, Sav. You like them, don’t you?”

“I love motorcycles. I’ve always wanted to race them, but I never have because I am the only child of a single parent, and if anything happened to me it would destroy my mother.”

Having gotten her bag and list out of the car, Becky came around to stand by Sam at the front of the Impala. “I’ve split up the list of things we need. I’ll head to Bart’s to see if he doesn’t have that book Bobby needs in his backroom collection. You two hit the apothecary. Here are your lists. We can meet up in an hour.”

The newly realized racer shifted her weight, glancing up and down the main street. Dressed in boots, jeans, a black fitted tee streaked in silver crucifixes and wings, with her platinum hair in a braid down her back, Sam had to admit she looked really cool, and what with the helmet still on her hip, every part the cool biker girl. Not hard-core tough, but sexy and cool. The kind of girl Dean would hit on in an instant if he didn’t already know her.

“In an hour, what say we meet for lunch,” suggested Savvy, then pointed to a café with a patio area, “over there. Get in a moment of downtime before we all face certain doom tomorrow.” She looked to Becky as she said it, perhaps to ask if they had time for it in their schedule.

Dean had commented on the fact that Becky seemed to follow Savvy around a lot now that the girl had saved the blonde’s life. He’d even pulled their friend aside to see if maybe she didn’t want intervention to try and set boundaries with the blonde woman. They tried to inform her of what Becky was like, which she reminded them, she darn well knew.

She seemed to be making an effort with Becky though, even when the blonde’s attention was clearly starting to grate on her nerves. All in all, they seemed to get along well though. Sam had quietly questioned her about the extra effort to befriend the fangirl. Savvy had glanced across the room at the blond, a sort of sad, yet fond expression on her face.

“She deserves a real friend. To know what that’s like.” She’d looked at him then and Sam was taken back by the sense that Savvy somehow had a much greater understanding of Becky than he ever would. She really was the one to take up banner and sword for the sake of others. “She also needs to learn to be okay with herself regardless of what others think. That requires a friend, too.” Then she had flashed him a smile and walked off as Balthazar called her over.

Knowing they were on a schedule, but the idea of a break sounding very appealing, Sam looked to Becky as well. She nodded.

“Yeah. That sounds fun.” She glanced at her watch. “In one hour.”

At the apothecary, Savvy’s helmet ended up acting as a basket for them to carry things in as they milled around the store, checking the list and searching for items. They were grabbing the last of their items when Becky sent them both text messages that she was already at the café and had secured a table. After checking out, they stopped by the Impala long enough to toss the stuff in the trunk before meandering to meet with Becky. Having to walk through the restaurant to get to the patio area, Sam stopped short as Savvy threw out a hand to him.

Becky was talking to another girl. Well, it was a group of girls, really, three of them, all with salon perfect hair and nails, a pack, with the leader doing all the talking. Sam didn’t see why they were stopping, other than perhaps to not interrupt, but the way Savvy shoved him out of sight and stood straining her ears and eyes to what was happening just on the patio, she apparently recognized some female war currents he was immune to. Sharks circling a stranded surfer.

Becky was sitting poised in her seat, the book they’d been looking for open on the table in front of her, the dark ink contrasting with the discolored and ancient pages. Sitting there like that while the other girls were standing and outnumbered her, made the fangirl seem smaller somehow, more fragile.

“You haven’t changed since graduation,” the leader said, the falsely pleasant tone making Sam roll his eyes. It was condescending. “Still so meek looking. And still sitting all alone with your nose in some weird book.” She chuckled, and the smile on Becky’s face was tight and forced. “Some things never change.”

“Some things never do,” Becky agreed. Sam got the feeling Becky wasn’t talking about herself.

“Well, what do you do now?” the girl questioned, her head angled. “I think last I saw you, you were a receptionist in some tiny little office and living at home with the folks. Have things gotten better since then? Did you ever finally find a boyfriend?”

Glaring, Savvy turned her head to Sam, jerking her chin toward the patio, clearly telling him to get out there and do something. He shook his head, hands raised.

“It’s her fight,” he whispered, causing her eyes to narrow even more.

“My life has changed a lot since graduation,” said Becky evenly. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

The leader smiled and waved a hand flippantly. “Aw, sweetie, you don’t have to be embarrassed. You’re just the type. Some people are meant for the single life, to be cat owners.” One of the other girls nudged the leaders, motioning to the table around them that were now full with other patrons. Her mouth wilted into a frown. “Becky, honey, I know this may sound rude, but since you’re just here by yourself and all the tables for groups are out here, could we persuade you to move your reading inside to a single’s table? It’s just, there’s no room for our party.”

The girls had circled the table, one flipping Becky’s book closed while another moved to pull out her chair for her, coaxing her to rise. The leader smiled widely.

“There’s a girl,” she cooed.

Saavy burst forward, Sam fumbling a step behind her. “Sorry we’re late,” she called in greeting, hooking her thumb at Sam as all four females looked at them in surprise. “Sammy got sucked into those stupid law books of his, blame our tardiness on him and his genius lawyer brain.”

The girls backed away a step uncertainly, looking at their leader for guidance, who watched in confused silence. Savvy ignored the lot of them, walking purposefully right up to Becky, one hand tilting the girl’s chin up before Savvy dipped her head and kissed her thoroughly, making Sam’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

Lifting her head, Savvy gave a sultry grin to a dazed, heavy-lidded Becky. “Hi, baby.” The leader cleared her throat, causing Savvy to glance at her over her shoulder. She blinked once in surprise, as if just having seen them, and shifted, one hand snaking around Becky’s body. “Oh, hi. I’m sorry, we’re ya’ll talking?”

“Becky and I know each other from school,” commented the leader. “I’d just stopped to speak while she was sitting there reading on her own.”

Savvy looked at the girl beside her inquiringly, then down at the book on the table. A bark of laughter escaped her, gaze flicking up to Sam’s. “Ha! She found it! I told you she would! Bobby is going to have a duck when all of his presents are gag gifts tomorrow!” She grinned at the female beside her, pressing a kiss to her temple that Becky closed her eyes at. “You’re a genius, Becks. This is why I love you.”

“I do what I can,” murmured the blonde.

The trio of girls all looked off balance, glancing around as if searching for why they were still there when there was no reason to stay and no table available to them. Savvy, disentangled herself from the blonde and moved to have a seat at the table, just as Sam did, followed by Becky. The leader’s blue eyes flicked to each of their faces, stopping on Becky who was staring at Savvy much in the same adoring way Cas stared at Dean.

“Well, uh,” They all looked at the leader as she fumbled awkwardly. “It was good to see you again, Becky.”

Becky just flashed her a smile and said nothing. Waiting until after the trio was gone, Savvy flashed an apologetic smile at her friend.

“Sorry about that. I told Sam to save you, but I think he was intimidated by all the silicone, botox, and spray tan. He froze up.”

The corners of her mouth wobbled as she attempted a smile, and Sam feared Becky was actually very near tears as the two women regarded each other, Savvy smiling with a soft, understanding expression.

“Mm mm. I don’t think he would have handled it as well as you did. That was really….” She sniffed, dropping her gaze. “Thanks.”

Reaching out, Savvy stroked a hand over the other girl’s hair comfortingly. “That’s what friends are for.” She winked and pulled back when Becky looked at her. “But don’t think I’m going to start making out with you in public. Next time its Sam’s turn or something.”

“She did what?” squawked Dean, glancing up from the maps in front of him to look at his brother.

Sam nodded from his position on the opposite side of the table, his arms folded. “Full on kissed her. Right there in front of everyone. You’d have totally thought they were together the way Savvy did it, and then the way Becky just sort of leaned into her like a safe harbor.”

Shaking his head, Dean scoffed. “This is what happens when I’m kept out of the supply runs in town. I miss all the fun.” He pointed to the map. “Well, I’m glad you’re back at least. Don’t suppose Savvy explained to you her role in all this, what with her being an actual damn Grand Prix racer in our world? Yeah, I didn’t think so, she’s still pretty skeptical about it herself, according to Balth. Part of her brain with the knowledge knows she can, since Balthazar uploaded the info from one version into another, but her memory argues with her that there’s no way.

‘Savvy is the one that is gonna activate the barrier as the wall breaks. It has to break first, though, then we have a very limited amount of time the dome has to go up in and we’re all living that Stephen King book, trapped like rats with everything we ever killed and sent back into that hell dimension.”

He trailed his index finger around the map, following a red line in a relative circle. “She has to race around the city wearing an amulet that acts as a trigger whenever she passes one of Bela’s hoo-doo boxes. She makes the circle, the shield goes up, and nothing gets in or out until the wall gets slapped into place. If the pentagram works properly, the magic from it will short-circuit the containment field and we’ll be free.”

“What about the monsters from Purgatory?”

Dean waved him off. “They’ll be free too, but we hope to severely outnumber them. We’ve already got a team over there rigging traps and setting out extra weapons and ammunition. We’re going in armed to the teeth, man.” He shook his head, regarding the map. “I hate to sound optimistic, but man, I really think we stand a decent shot at this.”

They stood just outside the perimeter of where the dome would be, looking with varying expressions of awe and apprehension at the abandoned city. The angels were all solemn, clearly already in soldier mindset. Actually, pretty much everyone seemed to be getting into that same mindset, a relative quiet passing over them, everyone that spoke doing so in low tones and only to the people nearest them. Gabriel was warning his daughter to be careful and to stick right by his side. The other angels just all seemed to nod to each other, for once they were all grouped together.

When the battle began, they would be air support. Dean and Sam weren’t stupid enough to believe that everything they were about to face would be grounded like they were. Sam was arguing with Sarah, trying desperately to convince her to go back to Bobby’s and stay out of the fight. Dean just wished he’d tell the girl he loved her already instead of being so obvious about it, while at the same time completely ignoring it.

It made him have sympathy for what he and Cas must have put the younger Winchester through all this time.

For his part, Cas stood with the Winchesters, waiting for when the battle that would decide the fate of the world would begin. His blue gaze wandered around almost curiously, eyeing the tall buildings and abandoned streets with a child’s curiousity and fascination. Balthazar had come over a few minutes ago to chastise him, wondering why the angel wasn’t standing with his family members.

Cas had regarded him evenly for a moment, and then told him that he was.

Demons and reapers were spread out, along with whatever fighters had volunteered to be on Team Free Will. Becky had originally been apart of the team, but Savvy had convinced her to remain at Mission Control Center, saying that someone had to be there to welcome everyone home, and that even if the main team didn’t survive, it would be her job as the new author of the Winchester gospels to tell their story when the other team put the new wall up and the last of the monsters from the other side were defeated.

Savvy also wasn’t apart of the battle. Once her part was finished, she’d head back to Mission Control and wait. Wait for word. Wait for the injured. Wait for survivors to make their way home. Part of Dean wondered if that wasn’t worse than fighting.

Shaking her hands down by her side, Savvy was sucking in deep breaths and fidgeting nervously.

“Everything will be alright,” Sam assured her, that soft, understanding look on his face that always got him his way. Savvy’s face snapped up, eyes locking with his.

“Yeah, we’ll save the world, party if up right, then all go back to doing what we all do best,” Dean agreed.

Eyes instantly welling with tears, Savvy threw herself at his chest, hugging him tightly. “I swear, if anything happens to ya’ll, I’ll kill you myself.”

She released him and hugged Sam, then moved to hug Castiel, pausing with him to look him in the eye. “You and Dean look out for one another. And keep the moose out of trouble, too. Stick together and don’t get killed.” She kissed his cheek. “And you’ve always been my favorite.”

He blinked with a start as she slipped away and put her helmet on, quickly moving over to mount her bike.

The sky overhead rumbled loudly with thunder, dark cloud swirling ominously like a tornado were forming and prepared to descend on the heart of the city. Dean glanced over his shoulder, seeing Crowley and Meg standing side by side. Meg had a sword across her back, inscribed with runes that made it able to slay an angel or a demon, and pretty much anything else. Crowley’s hands were in his pockets per usual, but Dean didn’t doubt he had his own arsenal, and an army of Hell hounds at his disposal if all the growling and invisible paws clawing the earth were anything to go by.

Glancing at his watch, Dean looked at his brother, their eyes locking. “You ready for this?”

Brown eyes regarded him, the corner of his mouth twisting upward. “Are we ever?”

A sardonic chuckle escaping him, Dean marched forward, his brother and angel falling right into step on either side of him. “Next time, it’s somebody else’s job to save the world.”

A crack of lighting split the sky so loudly, their entire rag-tag army faltered, waiting as it struck the ground in the center of the metropolis ahead of them, making their hair seem to stand on end and nerves vibrate with the electricity in the air. Savvy sat on her motorcycle and watched as they all moved as a unified force. Probably the only time Heaven, Hell, and Earth would join forces like this, and it might very well be the last.

Another crack of lighting split the sky and struck the earth, ripping through the concrete streets like paper, charring black cracks into the roads. The final strike of lightening was like a bomb going off, a force so strong it decimated cars and trees around its landfall, would have blinded the warriors had they not shielded their eyes, the too bright, impossibly white light devastating to behold.

Dean heard the motorcycle engine roar in the distance before his eyes adjusted again. The motorcycle peeling off was signal enough for him as to what he saw when he lowered his arm, as he heard guns cocked and weapons unsheathed.

Forms clung to the sides of buildings with huge talons and claws, some of them humanoid, most of them not. Overhead, great beasts beat their wings against the air, feathered and leather skin alike, keeping them airborne as they regarded the insignificant humans on the ground, reptilian and barbed tails flicking the air. Chimeras and rotting corpses stood waiting on the ground, the two armies standing off in a tense air that crackled all around them.

There was a snap of wings unfurling, all the angels but one prepared to take to the air and fight the battle that the rest of them couldn’t. Growls filled the air, invisible paws clawing and raking the earth anxiously until Crowley gave a shrill whistle and all the hounds of hell rushed forward, the angels took flight, the warriors fired their weapons, and the battle to save the world began.

Chapter Text

Getting the wall in place wasn’t an instant thing either, and monsters really did continue pouring into their world through silvery portals, flashing with lightning. The angels felt the humans were too exposed out on the street, especially when a dragon-like monster opened it’s mouth and let loose a stream of power the tore through concrete, leaving a devastating path of destruction in a line down the center of the road.

If the thought of Michael and Lucifer fighting against each other in the last almost apocalypse had been terrifying, seeing the two of them work together to tag team some sons of bitches was something else altogether. Dean was just glad they were on their side this time around, and sent up a silent prayer that they never decided to join forces to destroy the world, because only God himself would be able to stop that from taking place.

The entire lot of angels dropped down in a vast circle around all the humans, making Sam and Dean’s gazes dashed around wildly for what was happening that they’d grounded themselves when roaring monsters will still diving bombing them from overhead. As one, the angels clapped their hands together in front of them, then dropped to place their palms on the ground, and in a flash, all the light seemed to be gone and Dean briefly wondered if he’d gone blind.

They were in a warehouse now though. Wide barn-like doors were open on both ends of it, which allowed their enemies in, but bottlenecked them so that their fighters could take out more easily. A horrific screech filled the air outside, the sound of air rushing past overhead and they knew the dragons and other flying beast were outraged at no longer being able to reach their quarry.

Anna was suddenly by Dean’s elbow, grabbing a very corporeal Lady in White by the face and causing her to explode to ash in a burst of holy light.

“We’ve closed ranks around this building. This is where we make our stand and hope they put up the wall in time,” she told him, ducking as he swung and decapitated a vampire. “The Reapers and demons are the first line of defense on the ground. My brothers in the air. We’ll try to keep as many of them back as possible.”

A beast from the other side lunged and it was Sam and Sarah that shot it down, the corpse losing momentum midair and crashing with a sick thud of dead weight. Out of ammunition, Sarah tossed the gun to the side and pulled her machete. No one was really bothering to reload, they just grabbed up fully loaded weapons and used them as they found them, because there wasn’t ever time to reload.

“Why are you here then?” demanded Dean, driving Ruby’s knife to the hilt into a lamia as it slithered with inhuman sped and attacked him. It’s tail lashed wildly, knocking Sam off his feet and sending a table flying. Dean’s hands were covered in blood of all different colors at this point. This thing bled green, but it was still as slick and sticky as the red stuff as he yanked his knife out and had to wipe his hands on the denim of his pants. “Shouldn’t you be out there?”

“We did not want to leave you without backup in things went south in here where we can’t see you,” she explained, jumping on the back of… something, taking it’s head in her hands and deftly snapped its neck, then rode it to the ground before she and Cas took on a beast that looked a mix between a cobra and a praying mantis. “If they need me, they’ll let me know. Besides, we wanted to be able to keep an eye on you.”

She and her brother wordlessly collaborated, Anna lashing out with a near invisible sword that pulsed with power, causing a spray of lacerations across the beast’s body while Cas pried the monster’s mouth open, folding it back on itself, then actually ripping the entire top of the head off and tossing it to the side.

“Without those things flying overhead, we’re good here,” shouted Dean, he and Sam working to gank another Lady in White, her face and hands contorted. Sam held her while Dean drove his knife in, and she collapsed into a pile of ash between them.

Anna actually seemed a little hesitant in replying, then clearly thought ‘To hell with it’ and said, “That’s not actually what we’re worried about.”

“End of the world and yet you have something else more pressing you’re worried about?” he demanded. He asked half sarcastically, after all, end of the world. Surviving should be their only concern. That was pretty much all Dean was worried about. Stay alive, keep Sam alive, keep Cas alive. Everyone else was on their own, as terrible as that sounded. Even Sarah, though Dean trusted Sam to keep her safe just as Sam was probably trusting Dean to watch out for Cas.

They all had their priorities.

“They’re worried we might take the opportunity to do away with you in the chaos of battle,” offered Crowley, appearing by his side, casually even, the bastard, as one of his hell hounds tore into another lamia.

Dean gave Anna a look. Half wanting to know if there was really a threat, the rest of him almost incredulous in the fact that they couldn’t put the distrust aside for one day to save all of their existences.

“Old habits die hard,” she said, jumping up and driving her sword through a chimera prepared to ambush them from the rafters.

Corpses threw themselves at Crowley; he splayed out a hand, sending them flying to crash into the wall before they began being ripped to shreds by things none of them could see. “Indeed they do,” he agreed. “It’s why I’m here, to make sure you don’t have an ace up your sleeves and abandon us here.”

“Oh my God,” exclaimed Dean irately. “Why is it not written in any of the lore than angels and demons act like such friggin’ children?” He shot of a salt round right over Cas’ shoulder, catching something with far too many teeth right in the face and allowing Cas time to whirl around and kill it. “If we can put aside how both angels and demons have dicked all of us over more than once, how we’ve been pawns to you, oh and how you’ve actually gotten us killed enough times I had to stop counting? You damn well better put aside your own grudges and play nice!”

Chuckling, Crowley tossed a demonic centipede onto it’s back with a motion of his hand and let his dog do the rest. “Giving lessons on trust are you now, Winchester?”

“Dude.” Dean shot him a cross look, wiping black ooze from the side of his face on his sleeve. “I slept under the same roof as Lucifer last night. And slept all night long. Trust is my new middle name.”

“If Luci were to ever kill you,” interjected Gabriel as he and Gabbie materialized in the middle of the battle. “You’ll be looking him in the eye when it happens.”

“Michael and Lucifer?” questioned Anna worriedly, glancing at the other angel.

The sandy haired man nodded, hands on skulls of enemies and reducing them to dust. “They’re fine. I retreated to safety. Gabbie’s only half-angel,” he explained tersely, causing Dean to look over at the panting, bleeding female. “And I’m not leaving her, even somewhere safer.”

Dean didn’t know how much blood was hers and how much wasn’t. She moved like she was as exhausted as they were, but not like pain inhibited her movements, so maybe the damage she had sustained was minimal. Anna didn’t argue, just nodded, daring now to move further away from Sam and Dean now that more angels were fighting from within the building.

If they all survived this, it would be interesting to see how they all moved on. Dean didn’t want to think they would all go back to being divided, that this comradery would be cast aside and they would all go back to being enemies as soon as the world was back in order, but Dean also couldn’t exactly imagine a world where they all got along either, at least, not with demons. They were what they were for a reason.

But maybe there was hope for a brighter future.

“Hey Sarah!” Dean yelled, knowing she was some distance behind him.

He heard her grunt, and glanced over to see her behead a giant blue serpent with all the fierce anger and skill it made him proud. “What?” she demanded.

“Sam wants to know, if we survive, if you’ll marry him when all of this is over,” he called back.

His little brother was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath as he took down a zombie the size of a quarterback. “Dean!” he barked angrily, yet still deftly catching Ruby’s knife as Dean tossed it to him when the ogre picked him up and forced him down on a worktable.

Sam stabbed the zombie in the neck, ripping the blade out through the back and severing it’s spinal cord, causing its entire body to go completely slack and he had to use his feet to kick so much dead weight off of him.

“Yes,” she called back, fighting off a woman that had tackled her to the ground. A hell hound knocked the woman off the brunette and ripped out the banshee’s throat.

“What?” both brothers squawked in shock.

“I said I’ll marry you,” Sarah repeated, ducking as Anna threw her angel blade and impaled some sort of cougar-bat-scorpion chimera. “If we survive this,” she amended.

“If we survive this,” echoed Sam, pointing to her, “you and I need to talk.”

“If we survive this,” interjected Cas at Dean’s side. The hunter glanced at him, startled to find the angel looking haggard and exhausted, and mentally kicked himself when he remembered it was his fault, because Cas chose him and it had cost him. “I want a hot shower and lots of sleep.”

The hunter grinned at him. “Feathers, if we survive this, we’ll take a vacation and you can sleep as much as you want.”

Dean moved to fight closer to Castiel at that point. They were both exhausted, but perhaps tag teaming would make the work easier. For an angel who was not use to growing fatigued from what he probably considered a relatively short battle, he hoped he was able to ease some small part of the battle off of Cas’ shoulders, and that the angel wouldn’t regret his decision to weaken himself for the sake of one insignificant human with an indeterminably short lifespan.

Which suddenly looked a lot shorter as an explosion ripped through the air and the grounded shuddered violently beneath their feet. The roof of the building was ripped off like torn paper wrapping, a loud protest of shredding metal screeching painfully in Dean’s ears. Suddenly all the angels were standing with them, looking up in the same horror at the colossus looking down at them, inspecting the tiny humans like ants in a box.

It was some sort of dragon, but not the kind with scales, because it’s body was made of hard black plates that seemed to fit over each other, huge black horns protruding from it’s head, and a shaggy mane that fell across it’s forehead and down its back. The monsters that they had been fighting slunk away in terror in the face of this new beast, and their allies quickly joined them, demons, angels, reapers, hunters, and humans all staring up at this impossibly huge monstrosity bigger than the very building they’d been fighting in.

Dean swallowed thickly, knowing full well that this was it. This was their end. How the others would be able to destroy this thing even after the wall was in place, he had no idea, but it wouldn’t be the current team to bring it down.

The monster drew in a breath, then snorted through it’s nose, the sheer force of the air staggering them all back, causing hunters and humans to crouch and brace themselves, hands cupping painfully over their ears as it sucked in another breath, bowing up and roared and it was all the horrible sounds of the world rolled into one and Dean thought his ears would bleed and his head would explode and he might be sick all at once.

Someone was shouting orders, but he couldn’t make sense of it, was trying to open his eyes and get them to focus, to find Cas and Sam. They needed to at least try and escape, to regroup and plan. The city was big enough they could-

The monster roared again and Dean was oddly reminded of all the screams of Hell, of rotting, burned flesh, and torturous agony. It was Hell and death and being ripped apart at a molecular level all in one and no amount of cupping his ears spared him the pain of that sound. The roar ended and it left him gasping for air as though he had been drowning, reflectively fighting the hands that grabbed at him, that cupped his jaw and tilted his face up, that forced him to look up into eyes of blue.

Cas.

Without waiting for Dean to speak, Cas pressed his mouth hard against Dean’s in a kiss the hunter realized in an agonizing moment meant good-bye.

The angel pulled away to look at Dean. “Close your eyes and don’t open them again until it’s quiet.”

Dean looked around frantically and saw the angels all lined up, each of them with their wings out and ready to take to the air, and Dean knew why Cas told him to close his eyes. They were limited in their human guises.

His eyes dashed back to Castiel who only forced Dean’s head down as he stood as well, moving to go join his siblings.

Dean didn’t see what happened. He felt the power in the air though, felt how it was like everything condensed down and pressed in on him from all sides, and his head was reeling and the explosion that shook the ground like the earth was being ripped into made him desperate to know what was happening. He yelled for Sam, but his voice was drowned out by the chaos of battle, by noises so horrific and inhuman he couldn’t describe them, could barely hear them without feeling his blood must be boiling in his veins, his brain surely about to explode, and almost wished it would so that that would be the end of him, the end of this agonizing sound that went on forever, the world shaking so hard beneath him he waited for it to open up and swallow him whole.

Hands grabbed him, tried to get him to rise, to move, but he couldn’t. He didn’t even know who it was, but he resisted and kept his eyes clamped shut, just as Cas had told him, still fearing he would go blind from all the light that poured into his skull through closed lids.

“C’mon, Deano,” growled Meg impatiently. “I’m saving your life here.”

“Sam,” was all he told her.

“We’ve got him, too. We have everyone. Come on!” she ordered, pulling him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding his arm around her shoulders as she half dragged him off.

He felt the change when they were no longer in the decimated building and out on the road they’d originally abandoned as being too exposed. More roaring and sounds of battle and explosions of power made Dean fumble, hands grabbing at him, holding him upright, voices all around him that he couldn’t understand.

The world seemed to drop out beneath his feet, the sound distorting so much Dean thought he blacked out. The sounds were still there, but not so much Dean thought his head would explode from the God awfulness of it. He heard someone retching. He heard groans of pain, someone was sobbing in agony.

“Dean, look at me,” Meg’s voice ordered.

He shook his head. “Cas said not to-“

“We’re inside an underground parking garage,” she interrupted. “You won’t be able to see them.”

He blinked his eyes open, finding pitch black eyes regarding him. The solid color of her eyes made it hard to decipher emotion, but her brows were furrowed and lips pressed together tightly.

“Can you see me?” she asked, voice carefully neutral. He frowned, trying to push himself up to a sitting position, realizing he was laying on the ground. Maybe he had passed out after all.

His gaze flicked around incomprehensibly. “Of course I can. Your eyes are showing.”

“They’re the only thing keeping my host from going blind,” she stated, heaving a sigh of relief. “You’re lucky then. Others didn’t hear the warning and didn’t get off so unscathed.”

He shoved himself to a sitting position, both of them staring at the ceiling distrustfully as the ground trembled and shook. He looked at the demon, then around at all the different faces. “Sam? Sarah?”

“They’re both fine,” Tessa assured him, coming to kneel by his side. She looked him over, eyes searching his face and then his body before coming back up to meet his gaze. “Are you sure you’re alright? How is you head? Any numbness or tingling limbs? Are any injuries suddenly not hurting anymore?”

“What?” he asked unintelligently.

She glanced off to the side, and Dean followed her gaze to a group of wounded warriors all being looked after by other Reapers. “If you’re dying, Dean, or even dead, I can’t reap you,” she explained, meeting his gaze again. He stared at her in slow horror. “We can’t reap any of them, there is no where for us to go with the souls right now because we’re as trapped as you are. We trying to keep them calm, to keep them from realizing they are going to die, that some of them are already dead, but that our inability to do our job is the reason they’re still aware. I’m asking you: do you belong over with the survivors or with those unable to die?”

The cries and sobs of the undying filled his ears and he shook his head. “I’m fine. I’m not injured. All of this blood isn’t mine.” He shoved to his feet and swayed, his knees threatening to buckle under him. Both females grabbed him, keeping him upright as his hands went to his head again. “God in Heaven, what on earth was that? That was worse than Cas trying to say ‘hello’.” He forced himself to stand under his own power, even as the ground shook mightily and they all looked up at the concrete above their heads distrustfully, wondering how long it would hold or if it would suddenly all cave in. He looked at Meg in bewilderment. “Why bring us here when it can come caving in any moment?”

“Would you rather be crushed instantly or to die with that noise boiling your blood from the inside until your brain eventually explodes?”

“I’d rather be crushed,” he said immediately.

She inclined her head. “You’re welcome.”

“Dean!” Sam called, moving over to him with Sarah in tow. Gabbie was with them, suddenly looking very afraid without her father. His little brother looked him over. “Are you alright?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. You?”

“We’re fine,” his sibling assured him. “The demons and reapers got us out in time.”

The hunter’s green eyes flicked to the half archangel standing with them. “Thought you’d be kicking ass right along side your dad.”

Her gaze fell. “I’m not condensed down to human form. I’m only half angel. This is what I look like.” She swallowed. “I can’t help him.”

Nodding, Dean uncharacteristically reached out and pulled her to him in a hug, rubbing her back. He didn’t try to assure her, there was no point. There were no lies he could feed her, no hope he could really offer. He had no idea what would happen, and whatever optimism he’d felt the day before about them actually standing a decent shot at surviving, at winning, had been dashed the moment the entire roof of the warehouse had been ripped off like a child tearing into a bag of candy.

The ground shook again, harder, concrete cracking above their heads, thin veins spreading out. There was an explosion above ground and for one awful minute it was like all the air had been sucked out of the atmosphere, a horrible sensation that even had he been capable of drawing in a breath, there was nothing there to breathe.

Then the air came whooshing back around them, fresh and light and an alarmed expression passed over Tessa’s face.

“It’s down,” she gasped softly, before turning to the Reapers and yelling, “The field is down! Get them out of here! Now!”

The Reapers took that as an order to get all the humans out, reaching out to touch whoever they were nearest and the duo disappearing.

Meg was gripping Dean’s arm. “We need to get out of here. Now.” She looked Tessa and Gabbie. “Grab them.”

The females nodded and suddenly Dean found himself once again aboveground, coughing on the dust of demolished buildings and blinking in the too harsh light that glinted off the white and gray. The ground seemed to sway beneath his feet and he realized part of his disorientation came from his way of transport. Apparently, he was use to the angel express, but not so much demon teleportation.

Figures stood haggard and breathing heavily against the image of a half demolished building in front of them, the black behemoth’s limp body motionless. Dean shoved away from the demoness by his side, staggering forward to the angel who’s seemed to call to him like a siren, something he felt down to his very core, forever drawing them together, but even more so now.

The hunter grabbed him up just as Cas seemed to go out at the knees, Dean’s body the only thing keeping the angel from crumpling to his knees. He snaked an arm around the angel’s waist, wrapping Cas’ arm around his shoulders and looking at him in fear.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Talk to me, baby, I’m right here. Are you okay? Are you hurt? You did great, Cas. You hear me? You did great.”

The angel’s unfocused eyes struggled to find Dean’s, and it was mostly Dean keeping them both standing, Cas sagging heavily against him. “May I have that hot shower and nap now, please?”

A chuckle escaped Dean and he kissed the angel’s sweaty forehead. “Cas, you can have anything you want.”

The angel made a noise, but said nothing else. Dean turned them to regard all the other warriors, looking at the angels for reaffirmation.

“Is that it? Did we win? Is the world saved?”

The angels all looked tiredly at each other, for once, the worse for wear, before Michael opened his mouth and was cut off by the sound of the monstrosity rousing, enough strength left in its body to try and pull its body out of the rubble it was laying in, to stand and continue to fight.

Cas stiffened at Dean’s side and tried to pull away, but Dean refused to let him go. “It’s okay, Cas,” he assured him. “We’ll go together. You did your part.”

He wasn’t the only one to accept that they were about to die, that there was no strength left in any of the warriors to combat this force. Everyone seemed to relax with resignation. They were weary and they hurt and they would die with the satisfaction of knowing they’d done their part and that nothing else could get through to their side. They had succeeded.

Being able to take the long rest after such a feat wasn’t too bad. There were still so many things in this world and this life he wanted for himself and for Cas, but maybe Heaven wouldn’t be so bad either, if they let Dean in without a fuss anyway. Saving the world, again, call him arrogant, but he kinda thought himself entitled to Heaven at this point.

A strange, yet familiar chuckle sounded in his ears, a perfumed smelling breeze sweeping through their ranks.

“I thought I told you,” a voice said, a figure materializing midstep from a swirl of leaves and mist on the breeze, “to have faith, Dean.”

The elder Winchester stared in shock as God walked forward, looking incredibly small in front of the colossal beast and ruined structure. Michael and Lucifer both made a move to go stand with him, only to have their other siblings hold them back with a slight shake of their heads. They, of course, knew their father didn’t require their help, but that would never put a damper on their urge to protect him, either, to offer whatever aid they could with what little strength they had.

Dean watched as God made a simple gesture, an infuriatingly simple gesture, like he were swatting at a gnat that annoyed him, and the threat to all of them simply vanished. Gone.

Pivoting, the creator of everything seemed to meet Dean’s gaze, offering an almost smug smirk, and winked one ever-changing eye at him before vanishing from sight as well.

“Now,” croaked Cas, “the battle is over and won.” Then he promptly lost consciousness.

The damage reports and list of casualties could wait for Dean. His family was safe, all of his friends that had been revived to help fight in this battle were still alive, the world had been saved, and God himself had finally made an appearance even.

Dean thought all-in-all, it was most definitely worth Cas’ request for a hot shower and a long nap. In fact, he’d had to help the angel with the shower, but that was all it had been. Dean washed Cas’ hair for him, smiling when a sleepy murmur of pleasure escaped the angel and he leaned into the touch. They both took care to wash all the blood, muck, and grime from each other’s bodies before finally getting out of the hot stream of water. Cas angel mojo’ed them dry, they put on clean pajamas, and crawled into bed together, curling up on their sides with Dean’s arms wrapped around the angel’s waist, and they were both asleep almost instantly, content they were together with what looked like many more tomorrows before them.

Chapter Text

Six Months Later

They were retired. Officially.

Having saved the world twice, Dean thought they damn well deserved it. Being retired didn’t get you out of the life you’d known though, and he didn’t really want to cut ties, just wanted someone else to fight the big battles next time.

Actually, quite a few of them were retired now, like Ellen and Jo, who having died once already to help save the world the first time and then were revived to help save it a second, thought they were due a sideline position for a while, unless they got an itch to go on a hunt. It didn’t look like any of them would be getting that itch anytime soon.

What they had done, though, and this included the Winchesters, since basically everyone in the hunter life now knew all their names and what they’d done, they’d opened up a sort of hunter oasis. Ellen and Jo rebuilt and opened the roadhouse bar with the money from their own life insurance policies.

Dean used their insurance trick to get enough of his own money to build a diner right next door to the bar, the menu made up of all their favorite things from diners across the country, since basically, they were kind of complete experts on the subject at that point.

It actually took renting a U-haul truck to get most of Bobby’s books out of his house and into yet another store they built. It wasn’t a bookstore, more like a library you paid by the hour to use. Call-ins for information were accepted, but also charged for. Ash and Chuck were in charge of the research library, close enough they could walk over to the roadhouse after closing and get smashed like they was so fond of.

And, yes, of course, there was a motel as well.

One stop oasis for hunters. And being that it was all owned and operated by the heroes of the world themselves, well, it was looking to be a very popular place.

Sam was back in school, of course, working on becoming a genius lawyer like we was destined. When he didn’t have classes, he worked at the motel in the office, forever studying. To Dean’s surprise, Cas had sought a job at the university Sam attended. He got it, so now the hunter’s favorite nerd angel was a professor of history, because seriously, who else could talk about the Library of Alexandria like they’d been there?

They all had today off though, pulling up in front of the Roadhouse, Dean grinning at the grand opening banners hung over the entrances of the four buildings. The sun had just risen, and thought it was still way too early for Dean’s tastes, he knew they’d be overflowing with people soon. The term ‘people’ being used rather loosely here. He was expecting hunters, civilians, angels, demons, and maybe a drop in from a reaper or two.

The oasis was Switzerland, though, neutral ground where absolutely no violence was tolerated. Runes hidden everywhere ensured it. You attacked somebody and you were out on your ass in the middle of a cornfield a hundred miles away. If you were human at least. Demons and angels were forcefully sent back to their own realm if they tried to start something.

Music was already pouring from the sound system on the porch of The Roadhouse, Ellen and Jo on the porch, straightening the few chairs out there. Frankly, they might as well all have spent the night in the motel across the street for as late as all of them had been there last night trying to get everything ready for opening. Lisa and Sarah were over at the diner getting all the baked goods ready, most of which had been prepared the night before and just had to be baked. They sold iced cinnamon rolls with chocolate covered raisins in them that were to freaking die for.

“I was wondering when you three would show up,” Ellen greeted, a hand shielding her eyes from the sun steadily rising.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized. “We’re still having to hunt down half our stuff in whatever box it’s in in the new house. We’re not quite settled yet.”

The fact that they had boxes to hunt through was still weird for Dean, but when they’d gotten the house finished and ready to move in, well, their friends had all gone a little crazy with house warming gifts.

“The good thing is you actually have a house of your own now,” stated Jo, regarding them with her arms folded and head cocked to one side. “Built by your own hands, even. I’m surprised it’s still standing.”

Shooting her a cross look, Dean still pulled the blonde into a hug and kissed the top of her head as they moved to go inside. “I’ll have you know I worked construction for months, thank you very much. I knew damn well what I was doing. It’s why I hired an electrician.”

The sound of a motorcycle gave them pause, turning to see the bike easily drive up and park next to Dean’s baby, the two figures on the machine quipping back and forth as they got off and removed their helmets.

“And I still say you ought to give it a shot,” insisted Becky, giving her roommate an intent look.

Savvy sighed like it was an old argument she was repeating from memory. “And I told you I’m happy with the way things are. If things don’t end well, what then Becks?”

“I’m not saying it’ll be perfect, but we already get along so well, and we do live together and have for months, so I don’t really see what would change.” Savvy shot her a look. “Yeah, well, except for that, but we could take it one day at a time. Like everything else in the world.”

“What has you looking so serious this early in the morning?” questioned Dean. The others had already gone into the bar, and frankly, Dean was actually wanting to run by the diner first to get a coffee and a cinnamon roll if they were ready.

Savvy had retired as a professional racer and was sitting pretty on a fortune in the bank. Apparently, just because she had the knowledge of how to be a racer, it didn’t give her to confidence to be one. She’d tried to live the life of her doppleganger, she really had. She’d competed in several races, and won, but had been a shaking mess as soon as she was off the machine, like her ever nerve ending were frayed. She’d actually burst into tears after the first race and Becky had just held her, rubbing her back and petting her hair until she composed herself.

She retired on the grounds of having a nervous breakdown and requiring medical leave.

So now, both girls were authors. An occupation Savvy was much more comfortable with. They’d co-written a new Supernatural book already, at Becky’s insistence, but Becky was the main writer for the series now. Chuck stayed out of it for the most part since, well, the Winchesters were retired; there weren’t any hunts and stories for him to tell. When Dean had made mention of this, Chuck had made a face and shook his head, a secretive smile on his lips.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Dean,” the prophet had told him, then refused to say anymore on the subject. Stupid prophet.

Turning her brown eyes to him, Savvy morphed her expression into one of pleading. “I need coffee. Now. Through an I.V. if I can get it.”

He jerked his chin at the diner and it’s cheerful red and white awning. “Headed that way myself. C’mon.”

More people were arriving by the time they’d gotten caffeine in their systems and food in their stomachs. He recognized hunters when he saw them, exchanging nods as he and the two females moved into the bar.

Throughout the morning, Dean got sized up by other hunters more times then he cared to recall. Once it would have bothered him, the way eyes raked over him assessingly as he leaned against the bar and chatted with friends, the way hunters all seemed to ask the same thing, in the same tone even.

“You one of the Winchesters?” a man asked. He had a hard look to him, all brawn and no brain, looking like he hung out at too many way stations for truck drivers. A scrawny looking guy flanked him, but stayed silent, gaze flicking around like a nervous dog about to wet the paper.

Dean spared him a glance, noting the way this was actually becoming rather amusing for Cas at this point.

“I’m Dean.” He hooked his chin across the room where his brother was helping Ellen carry boxes from the store room. “That’s my brother Sam.”

The hunter gave Sam the same once over, actually snorting under his breath before giving the elder Winchester an incredulous look. “You really expect people to believe a coupla soft looking fellas like you saved the world or whatever nonsense rumors been goin’ round?”

Dean shrugged. “Saved it twice, actually. Not looking to do it a third.”

Jo clicked her tongue. “If we do, we’re charging out the ying-yang for our services.” Dean laughed and held a palm out to her, which she slapped, grinning.

The guy snorted again. “Yeah? What’s the toughest thing you’ve ever faced down, huh?”

Shifting, Dean moved to sit on the bar stool next to Castiel as Jo fixed him a coke and handed it to him. It was too early to start drinking, not to mention, it would look bad if he got drunk at the grand opening of their own business.

“Probably that behemoth right there at the end of the apocalyptic battle.” He shrugged. “Course, I didn’t fight it, it was big as a building, but it is by far the toughest thing we’ve ever come up against.”

Cas gave him a funny look. “You think that was worse than Lucifer?”

“Luci we at least had a gameplan,” argued Dean. “First we tried the Colt, which failed. Then the rings of the Four Horsemen, open a portal, throw him back in the cage. That worked. When you and the others did your worst to that monster and it still got back up? We were dead and I knew it. Good thing God showed up.”

“You talking some biblical shit now?” questioned the hunter brusquely, and seriously, Dean eyed him in annoyance, not having the slightest idea why the guy was there.

He was one of the few hunters who’d heard the stories and didn’t believe them. That was okay. The Ghostfacers had suspected government conspiracy when all of Detroit was evacuated, and had subsequently hacked into the city’s surveillance system, recording the entire battle from dozens of different angles, and had naturally posted it online. The video went viral in seconds.

Dean was almost kind of grateful. People with supernatural problems were now calling in with their jobs, which was saving a lot more lives. Many people thought it was an elaborate hoax, which was great in its own way too. Hunters, though, knew it was real, and that made the Winchesters legendary.

Not everyone had seen the videos yet though.

“You expect people to believe Lucifer rose?” the guy demanded. Dean noted the way Cas was clearly getting annoyed as well, because basically, they were all being called liars to their faces, and well, Dean was being called out as a liar, and that never really sat well with his parabatai. Especially in instances when he wasn’t lying.

“Someone called?” a voice questioned, making the group turn as several figures walked in through the door.

The elder Winchester’s face broke out into a grin as he slid off his stool, Jo calling to Sam as to who arrived. He turned and grinned as well, making his way over.

Dean and Lucifer shook hands in greeting, Gabriel going so far as to hug both of the Winchesters, clapping Sam hard on the back. The trickster’s daughter grinned and winked at them, sticking a heart shaped sucker in her mouth. Anna, Michael, and Crowley all walked in together, and it didn’t pass Dean’s notice that Michael held Anna’s hand in his, their fingers intertwined. It was almost weird in a way because of how Michael’s human appearance was that of John Winchester in his younger years when he’d first married Mary. But it was easy to separate them too, because this younger version wasn’t something he saw and really associated with his father either. He was so use to the older, hardened John Winchester, rough stubble, deep creases in his brow, and hints of gray in his hair.

Lucifer caught his attention again, tilting his head to the side with his fists under his arms. “You were talking about me?”

Dean hooked his thumb at the guy now standing at the bar trying, most unsuccessfully, to hit on Jo. The blonde shot him a look like she wanted to flay the man while he was still alive and then roll him in salt.

“Thinks we were so bored we made up the part about us saving to world and started spreading it around to gain a rep,” Dean explained.

Sam regarded the man for the first time. “I doubt he’s fought more than a few low levels, a couple of salt and burns and he thinks he’s special. Dude wouldn’t last a day in our lives.”

Gabriel regarded Dean, brow arched. “If you want, I’ll get him outside so I can smite him. I figure I owe you the favor.”

“Hey!” the guy barked, causing Dean to clench his teeth in annoyance and roll his head around to face the other man. Apparently he’d gotten bored hitting on Jo after she threatened to break a beer bottle off in his ass. “You never answered my question: you expect people to believe that bible crap? Bunch of pansy ass angels runnin’ round doing good deeds and that shit?”

“Pansy ass?” all the angels echoed as one. Crowley clicked his tongue and took a cautious step away.

Dean smiled politely. “I don’t expect anything of you. Angels exist. If you’d like, I can introduce you to the higher ups from both Heaven and Hell, and if you’re smart, you’ll piss yourself and run away.”

The man snorted. “Yeah, I’d like to see you manage that.”

The elder Winchester met his brother’s gaze, Sam smirking in amusement, but clearly going to let Dean have his fun. Dean grinned back, letting his gaze drift to Crowley.

“Alright fine. May I introduce Crowley?”

The hunter looked at the business man, and the demon inclined his head. “King of Hell. Care to make a deal? What’s your pleasure?”

“And Lucifer,” continued Dean, his eyes drifting to the fallen angel.

The former archangel lifted a brow in greeting. “Most people call me Satan these days.”

“His brothers Michael and Gabriel.”

“As in, the archangels Michael and Gabriel,” the Trickster said pointedly.

“The badass former general of Heaven, Anael.”

She inclined her head. “I go by ‘Anna’ now.”

Dean turned to look at Cas beside him, both of them smiling at each other. “And this here is my partner in crime and better half, the angel who threw away his faith because he thought humanity worth saving: Castiel.”

Cas regarded the idiot hunter then, his expression cold and like he’d already tallied this guy up and found him unworthy. “The angel of Thursday,” he elaborated. Like that made any kind of damn sense.

An amused chuckle escaped Dean and he just shook his head.

The guy looked back at Dean, an even greater look of disgust on his face. “So now you’re a queer and a liar?”

Both Dean and Cas’ siblings bristled angrily at that, Anna and Gabriel both going so far as to take a threatening step forward. Michael placed a hand on Anna’s arm while Gabbie stepped in front of her father, waving him off.

“I got this, Dad. Chill out.” She snapped her fingers with a grin. “Boom! Loop hole!” She pointed down to the bird standing in the center of them. “Note, I did not intend him harm or misfortune. He’s a perfectly healthy chicken and will live a long chickeny, feathered life.”

“Hey,” barked Ellen. They all looked up in surprise. She pointed accusingly at the foul. “Get that thing out of my bar before I take him next door to be defeathered and deep fried.”

The hunter flunky that had been with the talking idiot now gathered his friend up and dashed from the bar with him. Dean thought that hunter might very well have peed his pants.

Stooping down, Cas straightened holding out his hand to Dean. “He forgot something.” Dean burst out laughing at the egg in the angel’s hand.

There weren’t anymore unpleasant incidents after that.

Hunters and civilians from all across the country seemed to pour in that day. The civilians were separated into those who’d already read the Winchester gospels and were fans before they knew it was real, and those who saw the video and had come to see real life superheroes. Becky and the other girls whored out the book series like professional pimps over at the diner. ‘Here’s you burger and fries, would you like the newest Supernatural publication to go along with that?’ They had a second store room just for the books, which were selling faster than the burgers and pies. People came in and walked back out with the entire collection, carefully cradling a box with the Supernatural logo on the side.

People laughed and talked and swapped stories and joked about hunts they been on and the weirdest things that had happened, awkward moments where you were left naked and handcuffed to a fire hydrant with no way to rationally explain that to those who didn’t understand whatever it was you were hunting.

Dean was shocked when Meg came in and sidled up next to Lucifer, the fallen angel leaning in to give her a kiss like it was something they did regularly, which apparently it was. She’d been a fan of him long enough; Dean guessed it shouldn’t have surprised him they were together. Even if it was weird. And a match made in hell.

Later, even though he wasn’t going to try and explain or figure out how it happened, there ended up being a karaoke competition. Dean knew Gabriel was the culprit, of course, he just wasn’t sure how he managed to do it. The archangel couldn’t sing, by the way. Couldn’t hold a tune in a bucket, but that didn’t stop him from being loud, proud, and way off key either while everyone laughed and cheered him on. Sam laughing the hardest probably, followed by Sarah who was sitting in his lap, his arms looped around her waist.

It took losing a bet that got Castiel to join in, begrudgingly so. Dean had sat back, curious to see the angel sing since he still never had. The raven haired man had approached the screen, glaring at Gabriel as his brother came over to help him pick out a song and work the machine. Apparently, Gabriel just went ahead and picked Cas’ song for him, before walking off, stopping like a thought suddenly occurred to him, his mouth in a perfect ‘o’.

Without turning back, Gabriel grinned, holding up his fingers and snapping them loudly. There was a ‘poof’ and dead silence, which quickly erupted into cheers and whistles, while Dean’s eyes widened and his eye brows shot up almost to his hair line.

Castiel glared murderously at his brother, those impossibly blue eyes seeming even bigger, his raven hair falling in waves down his back. His one standard suit and trench coat were his again, except his shirt was a blouse, and his slacks a khaki skirt, an almost girly look to go with his new female form.

Dean grabbed Gabe by the forearm, his eyes never leaving the very disgruntled and smoking hot female on stage. The archangel was grinning widely at him. “You like?”

“You were always my favorite,” Dean stated, his voice coming out huskier than he intended.

Gabriel laughed, but Cas was still none too happy with his transformation. “This isn’t funny, Gabriel,” he snapped, but it help none of the usual bite his male voice did. In fact, the softness of it seemed to surprise Cas, because he blinked with a start, a hand covering his mouth like he’d sworn unintentionally. Gabriel laughed all the harder. Cas recomposed himself and glared furiously.

The archangel waved him off. “C’mon, Cassie. One song and I’ll change you back. You have to look the part, and besides, Dean approves.”

The angel on stage slid his gaze over to Dean. The hunter giving him a double thumbs up, grinning when it make a blush dash across Cas’ cheeks, before he turned back to the screen, removing the mic from its stand.

“Fine,” he agreed. “One song.”

The one song was ‘Don’t Be a Girl About It’, which, yeah, was funny as hell given the circumstances. And WOW could Cas sing. If he put Kelly to shame as a female, Dean really wanted to hear him sing in his male form.

Seriously, though, as much fun as it was to see Cas as a girl, Dean nodded to Gabriel when the angel gave him a questioning look before returning Cas to his male form. The hunter still yanked him forward, fingers delving into his hair as he pulled the angel in for a heated kiss. Cat calls and whistles sounded all around them.

“If you would really prefer it,” Cas began casually, mouth a breath away from Dean’s as blue searched green, “I can ask him to change permanently.”

Shaking his head, Dean pulled him down into the seat next to him, his arm going around him. “I like you just fine the way you are, baby, I promise.”

Brief uncertainty flickered over Cas’ face, and he looked down. “But we haven’t… you haven’t wanted to…”

Dean knew what he was talking about, and leaned over to kiss the angel’s neck, right below his jaw where Cas liked. “We will, feathers. Taking it slow is just me showing you respect the best way I know how. I wanted to give you a normal relationship first, that simply meant us being together without having to delve into the physical side yet. I want you to have all the experiences of life.”

The angel’s gaze met his, smoldering with pent up desire and longing, and more than a little frustration from all the times seemed to be heading in the way they both so clearly wanted, yet Dean always put on the brakes. Dean. Dean who use to never say ‘no’ to sex. Which was why the hunter made so much of an effort to control himself with the angel, in part he wanted the angel to know how much Dean wanted Cas rather than sex.

“I really wish you wouldn’t respect me so much, then,” growled the angel.

The hunter just laughed and kissed his temple, before letting his eyes roam over their friends and family, faltering when they landed on Savvy and Becky kissing in a corner booth. They’d been arguing since they’d arrived, and Dean had heard Becky introduce herself and Savvy’s ‘would-be’. Now he guessed he knew what they’d been arguing about and it’s resolution.

They all got home in the early hours of a brand new day, Sarah and Sam bidding them goodnight before retreating to their room on one end of the house while Dean and Cas retreated to theirs on the other side of the home.

And Jo had said Dean didn’t know what he was doing when he designed and built the house. Ha!

No, they weren’t sexually involved yet, but the angel still shared Dean’s bed every night, and quite frankly, if Cas weren’t beside him, Dean no longer thought he’d be able to sleep on his own anymore.

He shut the door and locked it out of habit behind them as they entered their own room. Dean sat down at the foot of the bed, removing his boots while Cas toed off his own shoes and gather up pajamas to change into.

“Oh hey,” called Dean, pushing to his feet. The angel glanced at him over his shoulder. “While you’re doing that, give me your ring real quick.”

The angel frowned in confusion, but Dean just smiled and held out his hand for the piece of jewelry, closing his fingers around it when Cas removed it from his right hand and gave it to the hunter.

When the door closed behind Cas, Dean moved and set the ring down on the nightstand on his side of the bed, then moved to discard his jacket and hang it in the closet. Dean was wired with excitement and he knew it, he just really hoped he wasn’t the only one amped up.

When the angel exited their bathroom, running a hand through his hair, Dean was on his feet again, regarding his boyfriend.

“Hey, you aren’t tired or anything yet, right?”

Cas blinked, then shook his head guiltily. “No, I’m not. I think I am too… ‘wound up’ still from today.”

Dean nodded rapidly. “Good, good.”

The angel’s brows furrowed in confusion, questioning how that was in anyway good that neither of them could sleep and it was the dead of night. The hunter crossed the space between them, one hand cupping the back of Cas’ neck as Dean’s mouth found his, kissing the angel in a way to let him know exactly what he had in mind for the night, so as to give Cas a chance to say ‘no’ if he wanted.

Cas didn’t, of course. In fact, he practically growled, “It’s about damn time.”

The curse made Dean chuckle as they staggered toward the bed, undressing each other between heated kissed.

“Hey, I’ve been planning for this, okay? And I had to do my research first, too, so I’d know what the hell I was doing.”

Cas stopped kissing him long enough to angle his head side, the hands under Dean’s shirt pausing in their task of pushing it up and over the hunter’s head. “Research?”

“I didn’t want to risk hurting you,” Dean admitted in embarrassment. “I wanted this to only be a pleasant memory.”

Cas practically tore the shirt of him at that point, his eyes going full-blown with lust. “Oh, it’s going to be pleasant alright.” He shoved Dean back on the bed and crawled to straddle him the way he had that night so long ago at Bobby’s. “I did research, too.”

Pleased chuckles of amusement gave way to sounds of a completely different kind as the hours wore on, in which case, true to their word, they had both done a great deal of research and were quiet eager to try out whatever they’d learned in order to please the other until they were both too spent to do anything other than settle in together in the bed, their breathing still too rapid and hearts pounding in their chests.

Cas was tucked securely against Dean’s side, his head on the hunter’s shoulder. “That was amazingly pleasant,” he purred sleepily.

“I have no doubt we’re both going to be very sore in the morning,” chuckled Dean, running his fingers through Cas’ still damp hair.

“I can heal that away.”

Chuckling, Dean reached over to grab the item on the nightstand, holding it up to regard in the dim light. Cas saw him gazing it, frowning slightly in confusion at Dean’s apparent fascination with the familiar ring.

“Hey Cas?”

“Hm?”

There was a pause, Dean running his fingers in a distracting rhythm up and down the length of Cas’ arm. “Will you marry me?”

The angel stared in stunned silence for a moment, blue eyes widening before he pushed himself up onto his elbow to regard the hunter who now gave him a lazy grin.

“I told you I’d been planning this, didn’t I?”

Laughter bubbled up from the angel. “Yes. Yes, of course,” he breathed, leaning forward to kiss the hunter again, and feeling the bond between them pulse with power as Dean slid the ring onto Cas’ left hand this time.

There was a bright flash that seemed to resonate from both of them, a surge of power coursing through their bond in a way that made Cas shudder and curl inward, his wings flaring out of their own accord as he sat beside Dean. It wasn’t painful, and almost as quickly as it began it was over, leaving Dean sitting up, worried gaze flicking over the angel, hands raised and hovering as if to check him for injuries.

“What the hell was that? Talk to me, Cas. Are you hurt, feathers?” He faltered, gaze falling to the angel’s shoulder, brows furrowed in confusion.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Cas shook his head, then followed the other man’s gaze. “No, no, I’m fine. I don’t… what is that?”

The glow from his shoulder was hard to see clearly upside down, but it looked to be some sort of design? Maybe a sigil?

Laughter escaped Dean as he examined it, then he was kissing Castiel again, in a deliriously happy way that wiped away any of Cas’ concerns of it being something bad. The hunter was still chuckling when he pulled away and touched their foreheads together while they tried to steady their breathing again. Cas could feel nothing but absolute love and joy pouring off of the other man. And amusement. Lots and lots of amusement for some reason.

“It says ‘Dean Winchester’,” the hunter began, causing Cas to open his eyes to regard him in surprise. Green eyes were dancing in delight. “‘Made of win’.”

The End.

A follow up of prompt post is here. Feel free to submit an idea.

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