Archive of Our Own

There was a chapel inside the small community hospital, set on the edge of a tiny Midwest town with a name that could blend in and be lost with the hundreds just like it across the country. The hospital could be nameless. The staff faceless. And the prayers an endless stream of desperation and desires. Inside this particular chapel kneeled a young girl, couldn’t have been more than 16 years old, and she was praying desperately to any god that would listen.

Only one heard her… and on this particular day… he decided to respond.

“Alright, kiddo. What’s the haps?”

The girl spun around, startled, and stared the man seated in one of the pews at the edge of the tiny room. She swallowed back her nerves and dusted off her knees as she stood.

“I… I’m sorry, sir?”

The man chuckled and it lit up his face. For an old guy… he was pretty handsome.

“Sir. I like that. You’re kinda polite for a teenager… but I’m not old, sister, you’re just way too young. Especially to be in this situation.”

She couldn’t help but take a step back.

“I don’t understand, how did you know—”

“Look, Punky Brewster, I honestly don’t have much time at the moment. You wouldn't believe how many prayers are constantly out there waiting to be heard, or at least acknowledged. It’s a hell of a fucking job, I’m going to tell you that right now… so if you have something to ask, you need to do it now.”

The teen shifted nervously from foot to foot as the strange man stared at her expectantly.

“Who’s Punky Brewster?”

The man groaned loudly and flopped his head backwards to stare up at the ceiling of the chapel.

“Chuck give me strength. You are an evil bastard and I will never forgive for all this.”

Using his momentary distraction, the young lady attempted to creep out the side entrance of the room and back into the hospital.

“Jessie Walker.”

She froze, utterly stock still at the sound of her name. When she turned, the man was slowly walking towards her… but this time there was a strange light to his eyes that shone with a stunning sparkle. Almost as if she was staring into the heart of a diamond. The vague shape of wings seemed to appear from nowhere to lift themselves outwards behind him, and the entire room dimmed into shadows, making him appear as to be lit from above. Jessie gasped and fell to her knees in shock.

“Who… who are you?”

This time when the man spoke, his voice boomed with force into the small room and tears instantly sprang into her eyes.

“You’ve come here to ask something of me. So ask. And I will determine if your prayer is worthy of answer.”

A shuddering sob expelled itself from her throat before she found herself whispering quietly.

“I… I made a mistake. I can’t… I can’t have a baby. My daddy would kick me out of the house. He’d disown me. And I don’t know what to do.”

With a sigh, the man crouched down before her, hands resting on the worn denim covering his knees.

“Honey, I know all about your daddy. And you’re right, he would. But I also know that you let that punk ass little shit Wes talk you into going unprotected… and it didn’t take much, did it?”

She shook her head with her eyes squeezed closed and sniffled.

“No, sir… he was just… none of the boys at school had ever paid attention to me before… and he was so nice.”

The strange man laughed softly.

“Oh, I bet he was. Thing is, Jessie, most teenage boys are dicks that will tell you whatever they think you want to hear… just to get you to do something they want. It’s all bullshit. Condoms don’t hurt. They’re plenty big enough to fit. And pulling out, or just the tip, is always a fucking lie. I’m sure you probably figured that out by now, though, huh?”

Jessie nodded her head forlornly and finally raised her eyes to meet the gaze of the unusual man sharing the tiny chapel with her. He smiled at her, and she almost gasped. There were a million little twinkling stars reflected in his eyes and a soft glow of light haloed above the crown of his head. Once she met his gaze and held it… it seemed impossible to look away. He reached up to softly tuck a loose strand of hair back behind her ear.

“On the third floor of this hospital, room 3303, there is a woman named Flora Castillo and her husband Junior. Flora has just had her fifth miscarriage after nearly a decade of trying to start a family. She is feeling defeated and distraught. She is also trying to convince her husband of fifteen years to leave her because she can’t provide him with children.”

The deep timber of his voice caused Jessie’s eyelids to droop low and it felt as if she was in a trance listening to the man speak. She could almost see the couple he described in her mind’s eye. A solemn argument being held within the hospital room.

“I want you to leave this chapel and go up to that room. I want you to explain to Flora Castillo how you let that little douche talk you into having unprotected sex, and the consequence of that act that you now face. You’re going to tell her that you’re scared, and that you’ve learned your lesson, and she’s going to tell you that it’s alright. And not to blame yourself. Because she is a wonderful, loving woman who deserves to be a mother. And when you’ve done that… you’re going to tell her that I’m going to take that little life growing inside you right now, and I’m going to give it to her.”

Jessie startled at his words, eyes going wide and disbelieving.

“Like adoption? Because… because… I’m sorry, sir… but I can’t carry this baby to term. Like I said, my daddy would kill me and I can’t—”

A large calloused hand patted the top of her head, interrupting her rising babble.

“No, kid… I didn’t mean that. Thing is, I can’t create a life from nothing. I can’t make up a baby for the Castillo’s from nowhere. But if I have a life and soul that’s already been created… I can just… move it from one person to the other… finagle the DNA so that it’s the Castillo’s baby true and proper. You understand? So all you have to do is be brave… head up to room 3303 and talk. Can you do that?”

The girl nodded, still a little numbed with shock, but she overcame it in time to find her voice.

“How… how can you do that?”

The man smiled and gently took her hands to pull them both up to their feet. His grin tilted his mouth at a very attractive angle.

“I just can. Now move along. Don’t let me down, Jessie.”

She nodded and turned toward the door of the chapel. Just before she stepped into the bustling corridors of the hospital, she turned back to the man. He was standing directly below the Crucifix now, watching her walk away with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. Jessie swallowed deeply before licking her dry lips.

“Are you… are you… God?”

Once again, a devilish smirk crossed the man’s face and he shrugged.

“Nah… you can call me Dean.”

And in the very next second, he vanished right before her eyes.

“And?”

Dean shifted his body slightly sideways in the warm grass. He was sprawled out beneath a giant tree, sunlight and shade fighting to reach the ground and causing a beautiful layer of dappled spots to highlight Sam’s face where he sat beside him. The elder brother grinned.

“And what?”

Sam sighed and smiled down with a fond look on his face.

“And so what did you do?”

Dean hummed a soft noise of understanding and returned to watching the canopy of the tree swaying above him.

“She did what I said… so I took the baby and gave it to Flora Castillo. Spoke to her in a dream and explained what I was doing. That this was the only baby I could give her, and to not wreck her body anymore by trying again. There are so many kids up for adoption that needed a good home. She kept thanking me and blessing me. Was kind of uncomfortable, to tell the truth.”

The younger Winchester sighed with the contentment of a happy ending before plucking a blade of grass and twirling it about with his fingers.

“And the teenage dipshit?”

Dean grinned.

“Gave him crabs.”

Sam blinked and then hollered at him. Dean only shrugged in response.

“What? They’re an endangered species now, aren’t they? Figured you’d be proud of me.”

He could only cackle at Sam’s sputtering as his younger brother went on a verbal rampage at the ethics of giving an STD to a teenage boy. Dean smiled at him but didn’t interrupt. It was a peaceful day. One of the many they’d had in the last six months. A strange occurrence in the lives of the Winchesters and selected family. No one in their little gaggle of angels and hunters had said a single word about it, or even brought it up… all too afraid that they would jinx the good luck away.

Didn’t mean that Dean didn’t think about it sometimes and appreciate every damn hour that calm quietude reigned. He was even getting pretty good at the answering prayers gig. A lot of them he just outright ignored. Spoiled shitheads asking for more money or more power and bullshit like that. Those people he sometimes sent horrible nightmares to, but beyond that… ignored them.

Other prayers he had no trouble answering. Like Jessie Walker’s. Then he would come home and tell Sam all about it, and his younger brother would record everything down in his laptop, or a leather moleskin for “posterity” or some such. Every once in a while Sam would caution him that maybe he was doing things he shouldn’t… getting too close to letting himself be “known.” But Dean would only shake his head and brush off those concerns with a wave of his hand.

“Sammy… I want to be known. I want people to understand that there’s something bigger than them that they have to answer to again. Not the church, or politicians, or the law … but this force in the universe that is judging them as worthy again. A fair, all-seeing eye that doesn’t turn away from them in time of need… but also doesn’t ignore them when they do something reprehensible. Do you know what I mean? I’m not going to wave a huge banner in the sky that proclaims ‘GUESS WHAT, BITCHES? GOD IS BACK! ’ But I also want people to start talking. I want rumors spread and suspicions raised. Otherwise, it ain’t gonna make much of a difference, is it?”

Sam had given him an odd sort of contemplative look after that, but had refrained from bringing it up since then. Now most days were spent like this. Dean and his angels flitting around the globe and helping where they could… then coming home and letting Sam record it all. Gabe was calling it all the Winchester Gospel. Gabe was a douche.

“Speaking of…”

Dean shifted again to get a better view of his brother before he gave one of his more lecherous grins and spoke up.

“So, Sammy… when are you gonna let Gabe make an honest man outta ya, huh? I do so love a good weddin’.”

The younger man’s face practically exploded in a violent blush, and he snapped the book in his hands closed before turning towards Dean.

“You keep saying stuff like that and he’s going to actually do something about it, you know?”

Dean smirked again and shrugged.

“And what makes you think that’s not exactly what I want? Not only to see the look on your face… but imagine the big deal we could make of it. Really show all those religious, homophobe assholes what for.”

Sam froze for a second with an expressionless mask, but he broke his gaze away from Dean’s and pushed himself to his feet. The disappointment on his face was obvious, and Dean quickly scampered up to stand next to him.

“What? What’d I say, Sam?”

His younger brother just shook his head a little morosely before he started to walk away from their nicely shaded spot and back towards the salvage yard.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

Dean could only stare at his brother’s retreating back and try to figure out exactly what he’d done wrong. He was being supportive enough, right? For fuck’s sake, he’s pretty sure it was his own fault that Gabe finally balled up and started courting Sammy for real. So… he thought about them getting married sometimes… why was that disappointing to Sam?

“Fuck.”

It bothered him lately, whenever anyone got upset or annoyed with him, because there was this fear down deep in Dean. This festering, boiling fear… that now that he was nearly fully powered up… that maybe he wasn’t acting like himself anymore. Like one day he would just decide that his family wasn’t that important to him and leave for the heavenly host. For fuck’s sake, that’s what almost happened before, wasn’t it? When Chuck transferred all that power to him at once? He almost forgot about his family completely and moved on up to take over heaven.

It scared him sometimes that it would happen again. That he would forget.

He flopped backwards onto the ground once more and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. He’d been really struggling to keep it together lately, but his last… three? Four? Years… were just starting to wear him down. How long had it even been since Chuck had chosen him as the replacement? There were some days that Dean couldn’t even remember. Time was a funny thing to him now. He could trot all around the world and feel like he’d been gone for hours upon hours. But when he returned home, barely a moment had passed.

There was this massive, sort of aching knowledge of the entire vast universe baking away in his brain. Often it felt as though his skull would just split one day from the pressure of it all. And every once in a while, rarely… but still enough that he had taken notice, Dean would stare off into the vastness of space on a clear night and think… I could just go.

I could just go straight out that way and see what the universe was made of. Second star to the right and all that jazz. The tiniest blip of a second… and I could be gone.

Those were the thoughts the terrified him. Kept him awake at night long after the rest of the world had slumbered off. He would lean back against their headboard and watch Castiel sleep and tell himself to keep it to-fucking-gether. There were people he loved that counted on him, and they needed him here. The world needed him here. No one else was going to do it now. The last time he’d even heard from Chuck or the arch-angels had been nearly three months previous. And the former deity had only grinned at him, clapped him on the shoulder, and told him everything would be okay. Those words had done nothing to settle the butterflies rolling in Dean’s belly.

With a groan, he dropped his arms off to the side and drew in a deep steadying inhale.

“Please, God? If you can hear me? My mommy’s real sick… and I don’t know what to do.”

Dean puffed out a breath and opened his eyes.

“Right. Okay.”

He pushed himself up to his feet… and the next second he was gone.

Castiel stared down at the seeds currently resting in his palm and tilted his head just slightly sideways in consideration. He was lost in a daydream, marveling a bit about what they may become… what they may grow into. He hadn’t asked, just accepted them when Jody handed them over. She and Bobby were sowing the field beside him and speaking in hushed tones about the little events of the day. When they had started the garden, Dean had asked Jody why she didn’t just let him grow the whole thing instantly. Cas could remember vividly the startled look on the woman’s face and her soft response.

“Dean, honey… there are some things in life that you want to actually work for… because how can you enjoy the reward if you didn’t get your hands a little dirty? If the task is effortless… then the result is meaningless.”

The younger man had stared silently at Jody for a full minute after that, with the eerily disconnected glaze to his eyes that had been happening with more frequency as of late. It really terrified Castiel straight down to his bones. Although he had kept silent on his reaction… because he knew that Dean wasn’t oblivious to it. Many times, directly following, Dean would snap back to himself with a horribly distraught expression on his face, and Castiel would ache for him.

Things had changed so drastically after Father’s departure with Castiel’s brothers. Watching as Dean had surged out from Lucifer’s box with all the power of the universe at his beck and call, into a massive form that rivalled any angel’s Cas had ever before seen. It had been beautiful and awe inspiring. Humbling and completely terrifying. And watching as his lover had turned away from them and eyed the heavens as if his family were merely moths fluttering around a porch light, to be brushed away and forgotten just as easily. It had given Castiel… doubt.

For the first time, and for just a moment, he had doubted his resolve to stick by Dean Winchester no matter what the fates might throw at them. Because at that moment… for a brief second… Castiel looked upon that creature and didn’t see the man he loved. He didn’t see the person he had slept beside for nearly four years. Made love to. Brushed his teeth next to. Would die for.

He had just seen something… else. Something other. Ephemeral and untouchable. And it wasn’t Dean.

The doubt had gone as quickly as it had come, but there was a little shard of memory that would poke at his thoughts every so often and remind him that he had felt that way. When Dean would do something so powerful that it even startled Gabriel for a moment and everyone had to take a breath to reestablish that this was the new norm now.

As a case in point, Castiel glanced around the field they were standing in. Dean had somehow pushed more land out behind Singer Salvage. It was a large open field circled by dense trees and shrubs that wove themselves delicately together to form a natural fence. Impossible to get through, unless it recognized you, and then it would part with a soft rustle of leaves and vines. Dean had moved their giant log cabin to the very middle without blinking an eye.

Massively powerful outbursts came to him with the mere flick of his fingers now. Nothing seemed beyond his capabilities any longer. There was no going back from this. The Father and all his original arch-angels save Gabriel were gone. They were the past… and Dean was the unwritten future.

Jody gasped and Castiel was startled from his musings. He turned to watch her shoo a tiny garden snake out of the tomato plants she was inspecting. The bright green creature swiftly slithered its way past him and vanished into the scrub at the fence line. A sudden, unbidden and violent shiver worked its way straight down Castiel’s spine with much the same motion as the legless creature and a weight of nerves settled itself into his belly. He found himself whispering almost against his will.

“Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made.”

The two humans beside him went still at his words, and when the angel turned towards them they both had curious expressions on their faces. Bobby’s was a bit shrewder than the Sheriff’s, but Castiel would expect no less. His voice was gruff and even-tempered when he spoke.

“Any particular reason you felt the need to share that bit of information, Cas? Or was it just a flight of fancy?”

Castiel blinked several times before glancing back down at the seeds resting innocently in his palm.

“I am not… sure, exactly. It just felt like something that needed to be said at the moment.”

Bobby hummed thoughtfully before turning back to his work, though not without gracing the angel with a second suspiciously shrewd gaze. And Castiel didn’t blame him. Considering the current circumstances they all found themselves in, such a comment should not be taken lightly. He slowly knelt in the dirt and scattered the seeds down the tilled row. The rest of the verse finished itself in his thoughts.

And the woman said unto the serpent, We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden; But of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God has said, You shall not eat of it, neither shall you touch it, lest you die.

Something was familiar, something was... it was just so goddamn familiar. There was a voice he knew whispering in his ear. Long red hair against his shoulder as someone hugged him. A strong sense of affection and comradery… and then… loss. Fuck… what was this. He knew this. Didn’t he?

The sound of the door closing in the bedroom brought Dean back to awareness. He blinked his eyes several times as he stared at the ceiling looming above him, keeping him away from the blue skies and bright sun of the earth. He licked his dry lips as he listened to Castiel putter around in the bathroom. When his angel finally made it over to the bed and crawled into the covers, Dean whispered into the darkened room.

“Cas… do we know a redhead? A young girl? Is that… something that happened?”

There was a distinctive pause on the other side of the bed that didn’t surprise Dean at all. He knew how fucking batshit crazy he sounded right now. It sounded just as cuckoo in his head as it did leaving his mouth.

“Do you mean… Anna?”

Dean shook his head where it was cradled by his pillow.

“No. Wasn’t Anna. Wasn’t an angel. I just feel like I know her… but I don’t. I keep dreaming of all these fucking people, Cas, and I don’t recognize them but I know them somehow. I feel affection for them. I remember hearing them say certain things or do certain things, but fuck… they aren’t familiar. My brain keeps fucking with me. Sometimes I look at Bobby and feel really sad for no reason. Or Bal and Gabe and feel surprised that they’re here. Or Jody and have this urge to ask about teenage girls? I don’t fucking know, babe. It’s like there is more life-history in my brain than I could have possible lived.”

He groaned and rubbed softly at his temples with his fingers. Castiel’s hands gently pushed them away, and his angel took over massaging away Dean’s headache.

“It could mean anything, Dean. Or it could mean nothing. Maybe these are just people that you’ve heard prayers for. Or maybe they’re strangers that your grace is telling you to seek out. Please do not over stress yourself with this too much. We will figure it out. We always do.”

Dean responded with an affirmative hum and closed his eyes, relaxed into the hands of his lover. Castiel shifted so that he could throw a leg over Dean’s torso and straddle his waist. With careful and loving hands, the angel worked the massage down the godling’s neck and across his shoulders. Every stroke of warm pressure had Dean relaxing further and further into the soft pillow top of their bed. Cas’ self-satisfaction at turning Dean to jelly with his hands was obvious with every sweep of this fingers.

“Which of these people do you remember the most about?”

The younger man barely mumbled out his response, he was so close to falling away into sleep.

“Asian kid… smart. He’s… he’s reading something for me.”

Castiel’s movements paused.

“Reading something? What is it?”

The godling hummed deep in his throat, and Cas took it for the clear ‘no idea’ that it was clearly meant to be. Dean was so borderline unconscious that the angel had to lean close to hear the next words that were spoken in the quiet of their bedroom.

“Was important. At the time.”

Cas sighed and ceased his movements. Dean had already drifted off to a hopefully more restful sleep.

There was a tree at the tippy top of this massive rolling hillside in who-the-fuck-knows-where Montana that Dean sometimes liked to disappear to. The mountains and rivers and massive endless seas of green were just too fucking amazing to ignore, and he found it all to be that sort of all-encompassing peaceful that made you shut your fucking brain off and just… enjoy. He wasn’t sure what kind of tree it was, exactly, but it was thick-trunked and tall. Reached high up into the big sky country. And he would settle himself in one of the upper branches and just stare out at the world.

He masked his presence here. Hid it from his angels and used it as his place to space out and gather power from the world around him without earning any of the nervous or concerned looks that seemed to follow him around at home these days. Dean was not stupid. He knew that those little flake outs and disconnected moments he’d been having lately had his family worried. Hell, Cas looked about two more bad nights of sleep away from chaining Dean to the bed and never letting him leave the house again.

And he got it. He did. Everything had changed now. Dean didn’t just belong to Winchester Brothers and company any more… he belonged to the entire planet. There were constant prayers to answer, souls to save, and causes to champion. He was busy trying to make the world a better place. And bartering with Death to find ways to keep some good people from dying. Not to mention he now got the daily report about the goings-on in Heaven from some stiff shirt angel named Naomi.

Dean wasn't allowed to go up into Heaven yet… but he still had to somehow make sure it was being run properly. One of the first things he’d done was remove Castiel’s Chuck-enforced banishment, because fuck that shit, and given his three angels rotating shifts upstairs to keep an eye on things. Cas had been so excited to go that he hadn’t come home for three days, but Dean didn’t blame him. It was hard to be away from the place you considered your home for as long as Cas had been.

Gabriel had grumbled and grouched about the arrangement, but Dean didn’t let him back out of it. That particular angel had been away from the host for too long, anyway. Would do him good to have more responsibility for a bit. And Dean knew for a fact that Sam would be more impressed if Gabe stepped up to the bat. A fact which Dean quite possibly used to get the fucker to agree to the arrangement.

Balthazar, funny enough, seemed to have taken quite well to management. Either there was some long hidden sense of pride at seeing a job well done… or he just really enjoyed telling all the other angels in Heaven what to do. It was probably the latter, but as long as shit got done Dean didn’t give a rat’s ass.

And speaking of Balthazar, there was a pinging request for permission to meet bouncing frustrated among angel airwaves. Dean heaved a sigh at the end of his rare moment of solitude and flicked himself back over to their home. He landed in the middle of the garden that Bobby and Jody were currently cultivating and smiled as he listened to the two bicker at each other good-naturedly. Watching the pair always made him imagine what it could have been like seeing his parents at this stage of his life. Funny enough… that’s probably exactly what Bal had to talk to him about.

“Well, it’s about bloody time.”

Dean grinned as he turned and slapped the angel on his upper arm in greeting.

“Good to see you, too, Bal. So what’s up?”

The angel sighed and turned with Dean to start walking towards the porch of their home.

“Frankly, darling, it’s the Road House. I was all for letting people cross into each other’s Heavens, you know… it was all good to let them do it every once in a while… but since you essentially just BLEW open all the doors and people are roaming around freely? Well… the merry band of hunters and such that have gathered at the utter dive bar… they’re making things… difficult.”

Dean chuckled as he bounded up the steps of the front porch and then proceeded to park his butt in his favorite rocker.

“That so?”

Balthazar groaned as he leaned against the railing.

“Indeed. And I’m sure you’ll find it all immensely humorous… but some of these friends of yours are throwing around their connection to you as if it was a… a… get out of jail free card, if you will. They are showing no respect for the angels who have them in their charge.”

The godling nodded and hummed in response.

“Ah, I see. Who is doing what, then?”

Balthazar snapped his fingers and a sleek black digital pad appeared in his hands.

“First, that Ash fellow keeps hacking into Heaven’s systems. It’s making the IT department very… irritable. That Rufus degenerate keeps demanding better whiskey and shooting at the cherubs. The Harvelle’s will not stop asking to come and check on you. They are also mother-henning my entire security team. Your brother Adam showed up recently and will not stop following Gabriel around like a lost lamb. I dare say your arch-angel may soon remove his head from his shoulders.”

Dean only smiled at listening to the antics of his favorite Heaven-bound people.

“What about—?”

Balthazar cleared his throat nervously and glanced away towards the horizon in the distance.

“I am still unable to find your parents. We know they must be there somewhere… but someone has apparently removed their information from our records. I do believe that Castiel has taken it upon himself as a personal mission to find them for you.”

That caused a warm rush of love to swell in the younger man’s chest. He cleared his throat to keep the emotion from his voice.

“Don’t worry so much about the Road House. I’ll record a message for you to show them later, ask them to calm it down a bit. You’re doing a good job, Bal. Thanks.”

The angel rolled his eyes, but the slight blush across his cheeks belied his grouchy cynicism.

“Yes, well… someone has to try and keep it from turning into one giant orgy up there.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at that.

“Oh? I would have thought that was right up your alley?”

Balthazar gave him a wicked smirk and then vanished back up to Heaven. Dean could only shake his head in fondness at the angel. He leaned back into the rocker, intending to maybe catch a few z’s during the afternoon calm.

“God? Um… can I please ask you a favor? My little sister is missing in the woods… an’ no one can find her.”

Dean sighed and rubbed at his eyes for a few seconds.

“Got it. Okay.”

The empty rocking chair swayed softly back and forth on the porch.

For many years Castiel had prided himself on not becoming easily emotional or reactionary. It seemed, however, that after saving Dean Winchester from Hell… his ability to remain detached had deteriorated with a frequency that was quite alarming. He considered this fact… as he stamped down one of the hallways in Heaven in nothing short of a… fit of pique.

He just couldn’t understand. With Dean’s orders, he and his brothers had flung the doors of Heaven open wide, letting all the souls within mingle as they pleased. He had systematically found every person that had ever been a positive part of the Winchester brothers’ existence and advised them of Dean’s destiny, and how to find the Road House if they wished to stop by.

But no matter how far he searched, how closely he examined each nook and cranny of his home… Castiel could find John and Mary Winchester nowhere inside. He knew that they were not in Hell. He also knew that both had been here at one point in time. They had partial files. Arrival times. Room assignments. Then both of them just seemed to vanish. The only explanation was that someone in the Heavenly Host had done this on purpose. But why? And to what end?

Castiel stomped into the office that he shared with Balthazar and Gabriel. Naomi was visible through the glass wall in her office next door. She gave him a dirty look before dusting nonexistent dirt from the shoulders of her warm gray suit jacket. Castiel dearly wished to roll his eyes at her display, but he refrained and simply nodded in greeting instead.

Gabriel was sitting at his desk, feet propped up on its surface, when Castiel threw himself down into his own chair. Everything here was white and glass and pearled. It was stale and emotionless and horrible. He had once loved the gleaming halls of Heaven, but after being on Earth for so long with Dean, Castiel could fully admit now that a little color and dirt could go a long way towards happiness. Contentment.

The angel sighed, and his brother grinned in response.

“Whassamatter, Cassie? Heaven got ya down?”

Castiel wiped a hand across his mouth before moving it up to rub at his temples gently.

“I just do not understand why I cannot find John and Mary Winchester. They were here up until recently. Our brothers and sisters remember seeing them. Who would have taken them? And why?”

Gabriel grunted in thought, snapping his fingers together to create a sudden piece of candy between them. He flung the treat into his mouth before shrugging.

“Dunno. You sure dear old Dad didn’t take them with? Or hide them somewhere to keep Dean on his path?”

The younger angel dropped his head backwards to gaze up on the sparkling white ceiling of the office.

“Their disappearance pre-dates Father’s. Even before he was lured into Lucifer’s Box. It was after Dean’s naming as the Chosen, however. So at some point in between those two momentous occasions… someone in the Heavenly Host found his parents… and spirited them away.”

Silence reigned in the office for a few moments after that statement. The only noise was the soft ticking of Naomi’s ancient typewriter in the next office. Castiel cut his gaze over towards her, and was a little surprised at how quickly and forcefully she appeared to be writing something on the machine. There was a fervor to her movements that seemed completely opposite from her normal behavior. He squinted to attempt to focus on what she could possibly be spelling out… but Gabriel’s voice startled him back to looking at his brother.

“We’ll figure it out, Cas. And if it’s something untoward… then we’ll fix it. Don’t give up hope, and try not to let Dean see how worried you are about what you’re finding, okay? Our little boo has enough on his plate right now. It’s our job to try and keep some of those heaviest burdens off his shoulders.”

Castiel only nodded in response as he watched his brother hop up from his reclining position.

“All righty, mi hermano, let’s get back to our sexy significant others. Whaddaya say? Balty just arrived and is studiously harassing the hordes with his new micro-management personality quirk. I’m ready to hit the hay and snuggle up with my assigned Winchester.”

The arch-angel strode purposefully out of the office, and Castiel could only laugh softly at his brother’s enthusiasm to get home. As he stood to follow, he happened to glance over at Naomi’s office once again… but she was gone. All that remained was an empty desk. It was odd… he didn’t remember her leaving.

Dean gasped, open-mouthed, against the soft sheet covering their pillow top mattress. The cotton was already damp with sweat and spit as he had been biting at the cover for the past several minutes. He groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure when Cas ground into him deeper. It was a night of not so much lube, and a hell of a lot of friction. Dean’s favorite kind, if he was being completely honest.

His angel was draped over his back, sticky skin of his chest dragging along Dean’s as they rutted like mad dogs in the sheets. Cas bit at his shoulder and Dean couldn’t hold back the mewl of his response. This was a perfect moment. The love of his fucking life pounding into him from behind with abandon, and the two of them both so lost with it that they were beyond even the ability to make words. Just gasps and grunts and the groaning sound of sex. Good sex. Phenomenal sex. Between two people that had really achieved their true sexual awakening together, trying anything and everything at least once to see what best got them off. Brought them even closer.

Dean’s eyes were beginning to sting with tears. Cas was on pointe. His angel had hit the rhythm and angle that drove Dean absolutely crazy. He cried out when the sparks of tingling pleasure started to track their way up his spine. He was about to come. Fuck. He was going to blow up into the fucking stratosphere. Cas seemed to sense how close he was and upped his tempo even further. Dean mashed his face down into the mattress and tensed into a single firing nerve of white-out bliss as he painted the sheets with his release.

Above him, Cas groaned and gripped hard at Dean’s hips as he chased after his own orgasm. Dean was slowly melting into the bed as a contented sack of boneless goo… but he clenched down on his lover’s cock to try and help him along. Castiel whined high in the back of his throat one last time before he stilled. Dean could feel the pulse of his release inside him and sighed in victory. Damn… they did this really fucking well. (Pun totally intended.)

He allowed his knees to slip down straight and flattened himself on the mattress. Right into the wet spot, but that didn’t matter, he’d clean them up after. Sometimes you needed to stay a little dirty for a bit. Let that good stink of sex sink into your skin. Dean hummed in appreciation when Cas straightened to blanket him, but didn’t pull out just yet. The angel began to place soft, nibbling kisses along Dean’s shoulders.

“I’d ask you how your day was, but judging from that performance… I’m guessing stressful?”

Cas responded with a wordless hum of a sound as his fingers traced down Dean’s arms to tangle together with Dean’s own. His angel finally laid his head down, cheek resting against Dean’s shoulder blade, and huffed out a warm gust of air against the godling’s already damp skin. Cock still firmly planted inside Dean, Cas rolled his hips once and Dean inhaled sharply.

“Qu-quick refractory period tonight, babe? One of those kind of days?”

With another slow roll that had Dean’s toes curling, Cas rubbed his bristly cheek against Dean’s shoulder.

“More frustrating than stressful, I would say. On the surface, everything seems to be perfectly in place. But every time I walk the halls of Heaven lately, I find myself glancing over my shoulder constantly. There is a feeling. Of being watched, being judged, and it has me nervous. Something just feels incredibly… off. But I am unable to determine what it is.”

Dean hummed in consideration as he widened his legs far enough for his lover’s knees to touch the mattress between them. Cas took it as the rightful invitation it was and braced himself to give more thrust to the roll of his hips. There was no way that Dean was coming again tonight, he was completely exhausted, but he would never deny Castiel if his lover needed some more. The angel made a pleased noise and continued his strokes, but didn’t speed up, kept it at a lazy pace.

“You think there’s someone up there that’s going to cause us trouble, babe?”

Cas rubbed his forehead against Dean’s back in a negative motion.

“Not… not so much that… as… there is something that seems out of pl-place.”

Dean pulled his hands away from the angel’s and slid them up the bed to grip at the headboard. He used his arms to steady himself, before lifting his hips from the mattress to match Castiel’s movements, rolling back into the wave of motion as Cas pushed forward. The angel above him made a happy rumbling noise in response and Dean’s dick even chubbed up a little, although he was pretty well spent for the night.

“Well, keep… uhn… keep your eyes open. I’ll get some more eyes on the—fuck, Cas… on the case.”

With the relaxed pace and the position, Cas was getting super deep inside of him and Dean’s toes kept spasming into tight curls. This was a sensation he had never thought that he would crave in his life, and if it had been anyone else Dean would have felt a deep sense of discomfort. A person being so far inside you… physically and mentally. But he knew Cas. He loved the angel with such an intensity that it frightened him sometimes. If Cas ever left him. If they were ever parted permanently. Well… Dean wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t lose his mind.

Cas finally picked up the pace, soft little gasps exploding from him every time his pelvis slapped against Dean’s ass. Dean groaned into the poor, spent mattress.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Cas. Fuck. You feel so good. You feel so good, babe.”

Castiel’s whole body jolted and then stilled. Dean could feel a new round of orgasm cause his lover’s cock to pulse. He flopped down flat into the mattress again. Little Dean the partial-chub didn’t appreciate the movement, but he just couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Cas. I love you. I love sex with you. But can I please go to sleep now?”

The angel gave a breathy laugh above him before finally slipping out and away. Fingers almost immediately began to toy along Dean’s rim, wiping at the jizz that was leaking from him.

“Shall I get the warm cloth for old times’ sake? Or do you wish to just make it disappear?”

There was something in the phrasing and inflection of those words that made Dean turn onto his side and look at his angel. Cas was still staring at Dean’s ass, but the actual look in his eyes was a million miles away. Dean reached out a hand to the other man.

“Hey, baby… come here.”

Cas paused for barely a second before he crawled up Dean’s body and into his embrace. Dean pulled him down for a kiss, instantly deepening it and tangling his fingers into the angel’s hair. Cas purred softly before taking over control of the kiss. He pushed Dean’s jaw open so wide it cracked and both men immediately began to snicker. When Cas pulled back, Dean wound his arms around his lover and cradled him tightly to his chest.

“I will always listen to whatever is buggin’ you, Cas. So if you need to talk to me… just… talk to me.”

Cas’ shoulders had tensed up for a second, but they didn’t stay that way. Dean could practically feel the angel melting down into him, his weight pressing them tight to the mattress. He almost waved away the dirty sheets and spunk, but remembered the look in the angel’s eyes and left them instead. Naked and dirty and sticky, but wound so tightly around each other that it didn’t really matter, they fell asleep.

Two days later, Castiel was up in Heaven and he felt it again. The sensation of someone following behind him. Shadowing his every move. At first he tried to ignore it and blame some sort of deep-seeded paranoia because life had been too good as of late. But the feeling was almost tactile. He knew that Dean had spoken with Gabriel and Balthazar regarding Castiel foreboding impression. His brothers hadn’t taken it in stride, as he had assumed they would. Balthazar had secret runners in a constant state of observance now, and Gabriel was going undercover at every opportunity.

So, things were being done, but Castiel still felt as if it centered on him. Nothing specifically told him as much; it was just a feeling he couldn’t shake.

He was rounding the corner heading towards the Hall of Records, to search again for anything regarding the whereabouts of John and Mary, when a sudden movement caught his eye. A door to his left had just swung open, and Castiel would swear it hadn’t been there a second ago. He froze in his tracks and turned to face it. It was completely shadowed and dark inside, but it was something new in a Heaven where things rarely changed, so it would have to be investigated.

Overly cautious, Castiel stepped through the door into a darkened sitting room.

“Well, it’s about damn time.”

The door slammed behind him and Castiel spun around before his gaze landed on a small, older man with wild hair and a crooked grin. He was slight, but his aura was powerful. He was sitting behind an old wooden secretary’s desk with a typewriter turned towards him. It appeared very similar to the one that had been on Naomi’s desk a few days previous. Castiel squinted his eyes and studied the man carefully.

“Who are you? Why are you here?”

The man made a condescending ‘tsking’ noise repeatedly while shaking his head slowly back and forth.

“Oh, Castiel… I had thought perhaps Dean was the pretty one, and you were the brains behind the operation. But perhaps my judgement was misplaced.”

As whenever Dean was mentioned in a derogatory light, Castiel felt his proverbial hackles rise and he let his angel blade slip securely into the palm of his hand.

“State your name and business. How did you get into Heaven?”

The smaller man groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes.

“I am here, because I am meant to be here. I have been around for a lot longer than you, little soldier. Our Father, who art no longer in Heaven, bequeathed to me His Word. And so I memorized it. And so I recorded down into the annals of our history. And I have kept it safe for centuries.”

Castiel could feel his pulse begin to race just slightly as realization came to him.

“Metatron.”

The slight man grinned widely and stretched out his arms as if he was greeting Castiel as an old friend.

“Indeed! The one and only.”

Castiel took a step back. If this truly was Metatron, who had disappeared from Heaven ages ago, then perhaps his sense of foreboding and being observed from the shadows hadn’t been his imagination at all. The angel was the scholar, the observer, he knew many things of Heaven that escaped all except Father himself. He was not a being to be taken lightly.

“Why is the Word of God hiding in the halls of the Heavenly Host? We would have given you a proper welcome home if we had known of your return.”

Metatron ‘hmmed’ as if in thought before he spun his chair away to face the opposite wall.

“Well, for one thing… I couldn’t be sure about the stability of the Host, I mean… Father and the arch-angels gone? A scruffy little human in charge of it all? I imagined myself returning to chaos and disorder.”

Castiel’s grip on his angel blade tightened.

“That scruffy little human is a good and just man. He was chosen by Father himself.”

Metatron waved a dismissive hand in his direction.

“Oh Castiel, please. I know you’re boinking. No need to get your little panties in a twist defending your stud muffin’s honor. I’m merely suggesting that the idea of a human in charge of Heaven was such a foreign concept to me, that I was overly cautious in my return. But I’ve been here watching for a little while now, and I must admit… he hasn’t done a half bad job. Of course, with Gabriel finally stepping up to do what he was meant for, that has probably eased the way for dear Dean a great deal.”

Castiel spun his angel blade twice in his hand before sealing it away again.

“Gabriel has been a help, yes, but Dean and Sam were the ones that established the rules and decided how best to improve upon the management of the Host.”

Metatron slowly swiveled his chair back to face forward again. There was a curious glean in his eyes and a subtle grin to his lips.

“And Sam? But correct me if I’m wrong here… Sam Winchester is not the chosen one. It’s not his hands in which our future resides.”

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips in distaste.

“Sam is Dean’s brother. He is his counsel and his sounding board. Dean trusts his brother to give him honest guidance without expecting anything in return. They have a strong bond that has only strengthened the ruling of Heaven. We are in good hands.”

Metatron hummed thoughtfully and nodded.

“I see. So little Sammy is his counsel. Gabriel is his enforcer. And Balthazar is his PR person. What does that leave you doing, Castiel? Are you his glorified secretary? Does he make you wear a pencil skirt and slap your ass when you stand by his desk?”

Castiel quirked his head to the side.

“I do not understand what you are trying to imply with that metaphor, but no… I am not his receptionist. I am his General. And I am proud of the service I perform.”

The older angel clapped his hands together in mock glee.

“Ooooooh… good for you, Castiel! You do whatever your little godling wants, and in return he gets to bend you over, eh? Does it make you feel cheap? To know that this Winchester fool is only using your loyalty to help him get everything he wants? Everything he doesn’t really deserve?”

Castiel shook his head.

“I do not know where you are getting your information from, but that’s not how it is.”

Metatron tutted.

“Well… I’m hearing it all around Heaven, Castiel. When you hide in the shadows, so many secret conversations make their way to your ears. And you most certainly are a popular topic of conversation. Banished by God because of your treason, but as soon as Daddy-dearest left… here you are back. Just because you’re Winchester’s little fuck toy. It’s horrible, really, the way they speak about you around here. And of course, all this paints Dean in a bad light, too, you know?”

Castiel took a step back towards the exit.

“What… what do you mean?”

The other angel took a step closer to him.

“Come now, Castiel. How much do you think the Heavenly Host is really going to respect Dean as the chosen when he’s seeking counsel from his little brother? Or giving reign of Heaven to two angels that had run away from all responsibility for centuries? Or when he’s consorting with a… forgive me… a lowly foot soldier that rebelled against Heaven and earned punishment from the Creator? The Garrison thinks of Dean as a joke, Castiel! He has earned no fealty here with the actions he has taken so far.”

A heavy weight dropped into the area of Castiel’s chest, settling around his heart. These were all thoughts and fears that he’d had to himself privately, even though his brothers consistently told him that all was well with the Host. To hear Metatron speak them… to know that his brothers and sisters thought of his makeshift family this way… of Dean this way… it was almost too painful to bear. There was a burning sensation behind his eyes that told the angel he was about to show weakness in front of the Word of God, and that was something he could never do.

“You… are wrong.”

Metatron’s lips slipped down into a sad moue.

“Brother… what reason do I have to lie?”

Castiel blinked and was mutedly horrified to feel the track of a tear trace down his cheek. The older angel stepped closer to him and gently grabbed him by the shoulders.

“I know it’s painful to hear these things, brother. I do. But the reason I sought you out in the first place, was because it’s not too late to change them. There are still things that can be done. Dean’s reign is so very young at the moment.”

Numbly, Castiel nodded and allowed himself to be led to the leather armchair that faced the desk that housed the typewriter. After he was settled, Metatron took the seat opposite him and cracked his knuckles with a delighted grin.

“It just so happens that I am a Master when it comes to plot development.”

Sam groaned as he rolled his shoulders and neck. He had been hunched over the desk for hours transferring his handwritten notes into a steadily growing Word document on his computer. Ages ago, Gabe had magicked the damn thing into being titled the Winchester Gospel According to the Sexy One… and try as he might, Sam had never been able to switch the damn thing back.

He was currently recording the most recent of Dean’s travels, wherein he had literally made all of the wasted foods from the entire population of restaurants in L.A. miraculously appear in homeless shelters across the country. The news networks had all gone nuts trying to explain it. The shelters didn’t care, though, they were just happy to be able to feed a whole bunch of people at once. With the kinds of food they probably had never even heard of previously.

The word “miracle” was already getting tossed around, as it had been more and more lately since Dean had been coming further out of the shadows. It was becoming pretty obvious to the world that something was going on and Sam was really starting to worry about the fanaticals. His brother was a good man, and so far he had been making good choices… but… absolutely power corrupts absolutely, right? And that was the younger brother’s greatest fear at this point. That eventually Dean was going to stray from the lane and bring on some Old Testament when he got sick of dealing with the close-minded assholes of the world. It gave Sam a migraine just thinking about it. A pair of hands were suddenly on his neck, immediately massaging out the tension and stress of the day. They were smaller than his, but strong, and smelled slightly of sweets and ozone.

“Hey, Gabe.”

The angel leaned forward to press his face against Sam’s, cheek to cheek, but didn’t stop in his movements.

“Hey yourself, gorgeous.”

Sam laughed softly, could feel his cheeks and ears pink with a slight blush. He still hadn’t gotten used to Gabe’s constant praise and compliments. The arch-angel seemed to delight in leaving the younger man in a constant state of embarrassed arousal. He allowed himself to be pushed backwards into his chair as Gabriel swung around and promptly straddled Sam’s lap.

“How goes the magnanimous effort to chronicle your brother’s crazy, my sugar plum?”

Sam hummed as he tilted his head to rest it on the back of the chair, leaving his throat bared to the angel. Who instantly began to play with the ridges and columns of the human’s neck.

“Okay, I guess. He’s getting bigger and bolder with things. I keep waiting for the evangelists to start preaching about the end of days.”

Gabriel snickered.

“They’d be a day late and a dollar short for that one.”

Sam smiled and closed his eyes as his angel tickled lightly under his jaw.

“How was work up in the big blue? Anything interesting happen today?”

Gabe grunted as he leaned forward to replace his wandering fingers with feather-soft kisses along Sam’s jawline.

“Cas disappeared for a bit, came back looking sort of shell-shocked, but he wouldn’t talk to me. Just clammed up tight and said he was fine.”

Sam had to shift in his seat as the light kisses were becoming sucking sweeps. Gabe’s clever little fingers dipped below the waistline of his jeans and scratched lightly at Sam’s hipbones, which he knew was an erogenous zone for him, little shit. Sam moaned low in his throat and grabbed at the angel’s spread thighs.

“Dean will… Dean will figure out what’s up with Cas. Those two practically share a… share a brain.”

Gabriel hummed in agreement, but his mouth was currently occupied at apparently creating the biggest hickey on Sam’s neck that he possibly could. Sam blew out a warm puff of air with a single word attached.

“Fuck.”

Gabe instantly hopped up to a standing position and snagged Sam’s hand.

“Thought you’d never ask, let’s go.”

And then flicked them away to the privacy of their bedroom.

At the opposite side of the desk from Sam’s laptop and chair, Balthazar uncovered his eyes with a heavily put-upon sigh… and wondered if they had even realized he’d been in the room.

“It’s like living with a bunch of bloody rabbits.”

He went back to organizing his calendar.

Dean was standing barefoot in the garden staring up at the house. He could feel everyone inside. Sammy and Gabe were sleeping. Balthazar drinking a glass of wine and watching House Hunters International downstairs. Cas was sitting in the middle of their bed reading a book. He could sense Bobby and Jody sharing some beers on the porch of their house, not too far away, rocking away on the hanging swing and whispering to each other.

He wiggled his toes in the dirt and smiled. The new plant life that was blossoming in the tilled rows of earth around him smelled sweet and clean, and the stars were out in droves above him. This was his peace, right here. This was everything he had ever wanted magnified to a degree that made it… really fucking unbelievable, actually. But he wasn’t going to argue.

Shaking the dirt from his feet, he hopped up the steps and walked in the front door. Balthazar turned to look at him, and then raised his glass of wine in greeting. Dean paused at the foot of the stairs and figured what the hell? He turned back around and went to sit beside Balthazar on the couch. The angel gave him a stunned sort of stare for a moment, but Dean only responded with a grin before conjuring himself up a beer and turning his attention to the television.

“Houses in Rome, huh? Nice. I stopped by that Palatine Hill the other day. Walked the grounds for a bit. Pretty fucking spectacular.”

Balthazar nodded and sipped at his wine.

“Indeed. Hopefully no one saw you tromping across the ancient grounds?”

Dean grinned.

“Nah. They couldn’t see me. Made myself look like an American tourist. Blended right in.”

The angel snorted into his glass, but only shook his head fondly.

“Some of my favorite orgies took place in Rome.”

Dean cackled loudly and genuinely. He smacked the angel on the shoulder.

“That’s what I love about you, Bal. Keepin’ your priorities straight.”

Balthazar smirked slyly in response, but there was an honestly pleased twinkle in his eyes that Dean had no trouble making out.

Castiel ducked back down the hall towards the hidden room he had previously met with Metatron in. He couldn’t remember the exact location, but he knew that once he was close enough, the other angel would open the door and allow him admittance. He had spent hours the previous night going over the proposal, and it did have some merit… but there were questions that he needed answered before he could in good faith proceed.

Sure enough, a door to his left cracked open a sliver just as he neared the corner. Making sure to glance around and determine he wasn’t being followed, Castiel quietly slipped inside and closed the door firmly behind him.

“Hello, brother, how nice to see you again today! Returned for another clandestine meeting so soon?”

Metatron was perched on the edge of his desk with a wide smile set on his face. Castiel nodded in response before sitting quickly down into the same leather-bound chair from his time here yesterday.

“Yes, I… I need some assurances.”

The other angel nodded very seriously and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Of course! I would never withhold anything from you. What worries you, Castiel? I assure the plan will go off without a hitch, and everything will be as it should. Everyone in their rightful place.”

Castiel nervously grabbed a string that hung from a seam on his jacket and spun it around his finger.

“You said this… this will regain the respect of the Garrison for Dean? They will not view him with disrespect anymore?”

Metatron nodded solemnly.

“I promise you, Castiel… you do this, and everything will be made clear. No one will question who sits on their rightful place on the throne. Sam will be able to stand at the side of God as he deserves and you will be free of the judgement and persecution of your peers to live at Dean’s side.”

Castiel couldn’t stop his fingers from fidgeting restlessly. He wanted… he only wanted to do right by Dean, and this seemed to be the best way to accomplish that. It would alleviate so many of the fears and doubts that had plagued Castiel as of late. And perhaps it would lighten some of the horrible burden Dean had been forced to carry. His lover would never admit it out loud, but Castiel could see him struggling with it lately. The constant, pressing need to take care of the entire world while still being bound to the humans in his charge.

“Will it hurt?”

Metatron raised a palm up and sighed.

“Will it hurt you? Or will it hurt Sam?”

Castiel swallowed.

“Sam.”

The older angel smiled as he clapped Castiel’s shoulder.

“No. Sam… won’t feel a thing.”

Dean never liked waking up alone in their bed. It was a very rare occurrence, and when it did happen it made him feel uneasy. Worried that Cas was angry at him, or maybe overworking himself too hard. He barely even remembered the angel coming into bed last night. Just had that vague sense of a familiar body huddled up close to him during the night, and an extra bit of warmth cocooned under the covers.

When he flipped over to his back and eyed the room, Dean could immediately tell that the angel wasn’t anywhere to be found. He spread his senses out and had a vague feeling of Cas being nearby outside, but it was muted somehow. Dean groaned as he rolled out of bed. Flicked away his pajama pants and on a pair of jeans and soft white V-neck t-shirt.

He hopped down into the kitchen in a blink of an eye and startled a sleepy Sammy at the counter. His brother recovered quickly, though, and offered up a cup of coffee. Dean grinned as he accepted and cast his gaze around the open floorplan of the downstairs. Gabe was fiddling with something over by the stove, and Balthazar was standing at the giant bay window, facing out into the front yard with an inquisitive tilt to his head.

“What’s up, Bal?”

The angel in question turned to look at him, and the serious concern in his eyes made a tendril of worry snake through Dean’s veins.

“Cassie’s doing something strange.”

Dean immediately flicked his coffee cup into the sink and stalked to the front door. He could feel everyone right on his heels as he tromped down the porch steps and into the field that surrounded the house. He could make out Castiel’s naked back standing in the middle of Bobby and Jody’s garden. He looked to be wearing a pair of Dean’s gray cotton sweats and nothing else. Something glinted in his hand, and with a flash of horror Dean realized it was his own angel blade.

“Shit. What the hell?”

He picked up his pace into a quick jog.

“Cas? Babe? What’s going on?”

The angel’s head dipped down slightly at the sound of Dean’s voice. When he turned about to face them, there was a heavy look of sadness and trepidation in his gaze that Dean felt like his heart was seizing up. He slowed to a stop at the edge of the garden. He could feel Balthazar at his back and followed by Gabriel, Sam hanging back a few paces.

“Baby? What’s… what’s going on?”

Cas licked his lips nervously and Dean was shocked to see tracks of tears streaming down his lover’s face.

“Dean. I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t… I’m sorry.”

Dean shook his head in confusion.

“About what, baby?”

“Oh… about us, I’m afraid.”

Dean whipped around to find a giant of a man behind Sam, hand fisted tightly in his long hair to yank his head to the side, with an angel blade dangerously close to Sam’s jugular. The angel, because it had to have been an angel with the blade and his eyes glowing an eerie blue, easily matched Sam in size and Dean could see genuine fear in his little brother’s eyes. Gabe cursed and started to dart forwards toward Sam, but the angel took a step back and dragged the younger Winchester with him.

“Now, now, now… let’s all just remain calm.”

This time the voice came from near Cas, behind him, so Dean whipped around once more. A short, nerdy-looking little man stood beside Cas now, his hand wrapped around the wrist that held Castiel’s angel blade. For his part, Dean’s lover was looking very worried and unsure about the current situation. He wasn’t fighting against the slighter man, but rather constantly glancing between him and the angel latched on to Sam. Anger started boiling deep beneath Dean’s skin and the ground below his feet began to rumble and shake with it. Everyone in the clearing staggered to regain their footing and in the surrounding woods, dozens of birds took flight into the sky, shrieking in alarm. The little man cleared his throat.

“Easy does it there, pretty boy.”

With a sudden motion, the hand holding Cas’ wrist jacked up in a violent motion and halted with the sharp tip of the angel blade a millimeter from piercing Castiel’s throat. The younger angel blinked several times as if he was shocked stupid by the action.

“Metatron? What are you doing?”

Close beside Dean, Balthazar sucked in a sharp breath and Gabriel whipped around to stare at the little man holding Cas. Gabe’s eyes narrowed down to angry slits and a sneer distorted his usually happy face.

“The Word of God finally pops back out of hiding, huh? And what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Metatron, apparently, grinned wide in Gabe’s direction.

“Well… I’m trying to make some sense out of the disorder that our obviously delusional Father left behind.”

Cas tried to shake his head, but quickly stopped when the shorter man holding him jabbed at his throat with a little more force. Dean felt a rumbling growl began to echo inside his chest.

“This wasn’t… you promised me this would be peaceful.”

That brought Dean up short. The earth stilled beneath his feet, but a cold icy hand seemed to grip at his heart.

“What the hell are you saying, Cas? You… you did this?”

His lover looked genuinely lost for words for several seconds, gaze flicking between Dean and the supposed Word of God character. Dean’s fists clenched tight enough that he could actually feel his bones begin to strain in his hands. His voice was practically a roar when he next spoke.

“Dammit, Castiel. Answer me!”

Now the angel’s eyes snapped to Dean’s and held.

“No… I… this isn’t exactly what was meant to…”

His words petered off and Cas looked absolutely lost. Balthazar stepped up close beside Dean.

“But you did let them into the field, didn’t you, Cassie darling? There’s no other way they could have appeared here. Not without someone leading them.”

Metatron chuckled, and frankly, the dude sounded more than a little unhinged.

“Indeed, dear Castiel was my ticket to ride… but you must believe that he had the very best of intentions. I’m afraid it was just so easy to prey on his insecurities. You haven’t been paying close enough attention to your little bed-mate lately, Dean. You probably should have seen this coming a mile off… if you weren’t so focused on yourself.”

The smaller man shifted his grip on Castiel’s wrist until the angel blade bit into neck just enough to bring a pearl of blood swelling up to the surface. Cas swallowed harshly, but didn’t move at all. Dean grit his teeth and took a slow, cautious step forward.

“Ah, ah, ah… let’s all remain cool as cucumbers. Castiel here promised me something, and I’m going to take it. Anybody makes a move, and poor Sammy’s going to have an extra hole in his face. Comprende?”

A low-level sort of whine escaped Gabriel, but he kept perfectly still. Metatron nodded as if the group had actually responded in some sort of ‘yes, sir’ verbal communication. Then he went back to staring at Cas’ neck and shifted the blade sideways in a slow drag. Castiel whimpered in pain as more blood welled to the surface of his neck and the ground began to vibrate in muted rage beneath Dean’s bare feet once more. With a final little dig with the tip of the blade tears sprang to Castiel’s eyes and a strange glowing blue light began to trickle out of the wound.

Metatron cackled before reaching into his coat pocket and retrieving some sort of small empty vile.

“Yes… yes… very good.”

Beside Dean, Balthazar was murmuring nervously under his breath. He reached over to blindly grip at Dean’s upper arm and spoke quietly without moving his gaze away from Cas.

“He’s taking his Grace, Dean.”

A crack of thunder shook the open field and several of the occupants gasped out loud at the violence of it. Dean took a deep breath and then slowly flooded his power outward. He could feel the white glow from his eyes lighting up his face and with a flourish, his four sets of wings exploded out from his back to arch high around him. The once smaller golden and silver pairs were now the same massive size as the white and blue-black pairs. He arched them all high behind him, and with a flare of light, Dean spoke… and his voice rattled the windows of the cabin behind them.

“You dare come to my house and do this?”

Metatron dropped Castiel’s wrist with the angel blade, but clutched the glowing little vile tightly in his fist. He made a condescending little ‘tsking’ sound and waggled his finger in Dean’s direction.

“Now, now… this was something freely given. Castiel offered it to me. No take backs, I’m afraid.”

The sky darkened as rolling thunderclouds manifested in a swirling mass in the sky. Thunder continued to rumble ominously to mirror Dean’s mood. He clenched his fists in anger and lightening jack-knifed through the sky. Castiel’s legs seem to give out on him, and the angel tumbled to the ground clutching the wound on his neck. More lightening streaked through the sky and Metatron held his hands up in defense before himself.

“Before you do anything drastic, Dean… I want you think about this. I have your little lover boy’s Grace in my hand, true… but I also have, locked away in a place that only I know about, dear Mommy and Daddy Winchester.”

Dean’s power flagged visually as his mouth dropped open, but it was Cas that spoke up, demanding and angry.

“It was you that hid them in Heaven? I don’t understand… why?”

Metatron grinned and Dean had to withhold himself from punching the little snively fucker in the face. With a tree trunk.

“Insurance policy, dear boy, just like this.”

He made a quick motion with his hand and behind the group, Sam screamed out in pain. Dean spun himself in a circle and felt, more than heard, a whimper leave his throat when he saw his little brother struck through with an angel blade in his belly. A painful cry ripped out of Gabriel’s mouth and the arch-angel ran towards Sam. Only to be brought up short when the massive angel holding his little brother yanked the blade out and threatened to plunge it back into Sam’s chest.

Gabriel cried out in anguish as Sam’s knees failed him and he slouched into the hold of the angel. Dean’s power surged out in utter rage once more and he lifted a hand towards Sam to heal him.

“Stooooop. That’s not how this is going to play out, little wannabe. You heal Sam now and my friend Gadreel there will just keep sticking holes in him until you’re not fast enough to save him.”

Dean grit his teeth together tightly and turned his gaze upon the Word of God. He could feel his Grace practically dripping off of his body like molten glass from a kiln.

“Who do you think you’re talking to, little man?”

The smile dropped from Metatron’s visage and his eyes hardened into steely flints.

“I could ask you the same question, boy. Do you realize how long I have been around? The sacred job that was commanded of me by the Creator that I took very seriously? And then he just up and fucking vanished and I had to hide from Heaven for centuries. I did everything asked of me and more… and then He goes and just gives the rule of the Host to some wet behind the ears, scrabbling in the dirt human? A pretty worthless one at that.”

Beside Dean, Balthazar practically growled at that last comment and flicked his wrist to command his angel blade to hand.

“Watch your tone, you plebian.”

An ugly sneer split Metatron’s face as he cut a glance at Balthazar, but he slid his eyes back towards Dean immediately. At that moment, Gabriel cried out Sam’s name and Dean turned his attention back to his brother. Sam looked like a marionette whose strings had been cut. He was sagging back into the angel that held him with one secure arm around his chest. A super-heated bolt of lightning struck the ground somewhere nearby and everyone flinched. Dean was breathing harshly through his nose, trying to temper the rage boiling in his veins.

“Now… this is how it’s gonna go.”

Dean shifted his eyes towards Metatron without moving his head away from facing Sam. He narrowed his gaze at the contemptable little shit.

“Dear Sammy is currently expiring. And right now as we’re standing here speaking amongst ourselves, my friend Gadreel over there is having a little tete-a-tete with back-up Winchester in his mind. He is going to convince dear Sammy to let him use his body as a host—”

“That’s never gonna happen, asshole.”

Metatron laughed and wagged his finger at Dean again. (That was going to be the first thing that Dean separated from the rest of the man’s body as soon as he was able.)

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. We have some very hefty incentives involved. But I digress… once that has been accomplished, any minute now I assure you, we will be leaving. Me, with your little lover boy’s Grace. Gadreel, inside Sam’s body. And the knowledge of your parent’s whereabouts safely tucked away in my little brain. And my brain only. We will be heading to some place very fortified and safe. And we will wait.”

Dean ground his heel into the dirt, and desperately wanted to just wipe the dickbag before him off the face of the map. His eyes cut over to Sam. His little brother was pale as a ghost, eyes rolled white back into his head. Gabriel was nearly trembling like a leaf, obviously distraught.

“And what will you be waiting for?”

Before Metatron could respond, the angel Gadreel’s head snapped backwards and a cloud of glowing white smoke streamed from his gaping mouth. The smoke immediately descended straight between Sam’s slack lips and vanished into his body. A split second later, the body of its previous host collapsed on the ground and Sam shot up ramrod straight. His whole body seemed to glow for a brief instance, and when he opened his eyes, two shining orbs of angel eyes peered out at them. Gabriel made a horrible keening sound and took a step backwards towards Dean and Balthazar.

Gadreel, in Sam’s body, slowly moved to stand beside Metatron. The emotionless void on his face made Dean remember when his brother had been soulless, and it sent a shiver down his back. Metatron chuckled and spread his arms wide in a victorious sweep.

“As promised. Now, as I was saying. We will be waiting in a safe place. You have 24 hours.”

Dean swiveled slowly toward the pair, peripherally aware of Gabe and Balthazar moving in to flank him at his sides. He lowered the heat on his simmering power.

“24 hours to do what?”

The smaller man shrugged and grinned cheekily.

“To turn Heaven over to me, naturally. I want the throne, the rule, all of it.”

Castiel had been silently kneeling in the garden, clutching his wound and looking lost and shocked. Now he gasped and slowly wobbled his way up to stand on his feet.

“I don’t understand. That’s what you desired all along? To… to dethrone Dean and take over the Heavenly Host? To go against Father’s wishes and ensue chaos in the Garrison?”

Metatron blew a raspberry and shook his head.

“Please, it’s not just about that. But I must admit that is a major part of it. I’m going to remake Heaven into my image. Any that don’t follow will be destroyed or banned entry, then I’m going to re-write the history of mankind. The story has been severely lacking of late… it needs some pizazz… some more ‘oomph’ to make it really great.”

Dean took a step forward, the two angels flanking him copied the move seamlessly.

“And what qualifies as ‘pizazz,’ huh? I’m just starting to make a real difference around here… and what are you planning to do with that change?”

Metatron shrugged.

“Well, the first step in my plan… is to tell you absolutely nothing. Do you think this is some ridiculous episode of Scooby Doo and I’m just going to lay it all out there for you so that you can foil all of my attempts? Puh-lease. All you need to worry about is getting me the control of Heaven before tomorrow morning… or else you can kiss your entire family goodbye.”

Dean’s nostrils flared in fury.

“And exactly how do you expect me to do that?”

With a horrifically fake sweet smile, Metatron reached both hands out toward Dean, fingers spread wide.

“Well… you have to die, of course.”

Dean’s three angels made varying sounds of distress around him, but Metatron continued to speak.

“Plunge an angel blade into your heart, have your angels collect your Grace in a suitable container meant for a god… and bring it to me in the place where Heaven and Earth meet. Once that is done, I will return sweet Sammy to Gabriel’s care and release your parents back into Heaven.”

Dean shifted his feet in the dirt.

“And Cas’ grace?”

Metatron lifted a single mocking eyebrow.

“Oh… it will be returned… if he still wants it.”

Cas shook his head frantically.

“Keep it. Keep it if you will allow Dean to live. I give it to you freely.”

The older angel gave Cas a patronizing little frown.

“Aw, ducky… you already did. And look where that got you.”

Then Metatron and Gadreel snapped out of sight with Sam’s body and Cas’ grace. There was a stunned moment of silence before Dean heaved in a mighty breath and released it in a tree-shaking roar of rage. Beside him, Gabriel gave a soft little cry and started tugging at his own hair, looking utterly lost. Balthazar cursed and moved toward Cas to help the other angel stand. For his part, Castiel choked back a sob and clung to Balthazar in an uncharacteristic show of weakness.

Dean punched at his own thigh and a massive thunderclap shook the ground. He didn’t even notice Bobby and Jody running towards them, or the rain that broke loose in torrents from the heavy clouds above. They were all drenched instantly, but Dean could only turn to his angel, to the love of his fucking life, and bellow into the raging storm.

“GODDAMIT, CAS!! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!!??”

The angel in question dropped his head forward and refused to meet Dean’s gaze. His voice could barely be heard above the tempest.

“I… this isn’t what was supposed to happen.”

“THEN FUCKING ENLIGHTEN ME, CASTIEL! WHAT THE FUCK WAS SUPPOSED TO GO DOWN HERE? HUH?”

Bobby and Jody looked utterly lost and terrified as they glanced between Dean and Cas. But no one in the group interrupted the lovers or tried to join the conversation. Castiel hiccupped a sob on his next intake of breath.

“Metatron said… there was dissention in the ranks. That the Garrison didn’t respect you as the Chosen. He said that as long as you had a traitor at your side and a human as your counsel… no one… the Heavenly Host wouldn’t acknowledge you on the throne.”

Cas hiccupped another sob.

“He said—”

“I DON’T CARE WHAT HE FUCKING SAID, CAS! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE FAITH IN US… IN ME… TO DEAL WITH ANYTHING THAT COMES UP! YOU DON’T GO FUCKING RUNNING TO SOME LITTLE DIPSHIT ASSHOLE AND LET HIM LOSE YOUR FAITH IN US! WE’RE FUCKING FAMILY! WE LOOKED AFTER EACH OTHER! AND YOU JUST KILLED SAM, CAS! YOU JUST FUCKING KILLED MY BROTHER!”

Castiel’s frame was wracked with sobs at that point. His tears were lost in the downpour of rain, but the desperate gasps and choking breaths were obvious. Dean was ominously quiet for several seconds before he spoke again.

“I can’t look at you right now.”

Instantly, Cas popped out of existence. Balthazar cursed and tipped sideways, no longer having the extra weight he had been compensating for. Jody gasped and her hands flew up to cover her mouth in shock. Bobby’s eyes were wide when he turned to Dean.

“Dean… where did you send him?”

The younger man turned around and began to trudge back up to the house. He snagged Gabriel by the arm and tucked the shivering arch-angel in close to his side.

“I don’t care.”

Balthazar and Bobby both gaped at Dean’s response. The angel mouthed the words “I’ll find him” to the old hunter and then flicked away.

Castiel hit the ground and it wasn’t a soft or forgiving landing. He accidentally breathed in the dust that kicked up into the air and spent several moments coughing and hacking to regain his breath. Once everything had a chance to settle, he glanced around and realized that he was in the salvage yard right outside of Bobby’s house. He coughed once more and managed to struggle to his feet just in time for Balthazar to pop up in front of him.

“Cassie! Are you alright?”

Castiel nodded, but his hand was grasping at the still bleeding wound on his neck. Oh Father… he felt so weak… and heavy. With a groan, he pulled his hand away to eye the copious amounts of bright red blood splashed across his palm.

“Here, let me take care of that, darling.”

Balthazar reached forward and healed the wound with a soft swipe of his fingertips. Castiel immediately felt much better physically, but emotionally his heart and mind were splintered into a million aching pieces.

“Balthazar… I swear… I swear I didn’t know. He… he was the Word of God. I never thought him capable of… I just…”

The other angel shushed him gently before pulling Castiel into his arms and giving him a brief hug.

“I understand, Cassie. I do… but you should have come to us. Me or Gabe, if you couldn’t go to Dean directly. We are a team, dear boy. Don’t you understand that?”

Cas nodded and swiped at the tear tracks on his checks, unknowingly smearing blood all over his face.

“I do. I do… but… I guess he knew just which one of my doubts to play on. Ever since Father left, the power Dean wields has begun to frighten me a little, and I have been worrying about my place at his side. How Metatron knew to focus on that, I don’t know.”

Balthazar tutted softly.

“Cassie, everyone as in love as you two has their own set of doubts and fears regarding their partner. Trust me. Metatron just played the odds and hit you right where it hurt. But we don’t have time to dwell on all this now. We need to figure out a plan. I know that Dean and Gabriel are angry and hurting right now, but I don’t think Sam’s dead. There’s got to be a way to fix all this, and we’re going to find it. I promise.”

At that point, Bobby and Jody came running up towards the house. Jody immediately wrapped Cas up in a hug.

“Cas, honey, are you okay? You know Dean didn’t mean it, right? He’s just upset right now, sweetie.”

Bobby clapped him on the shoulder.

“Is your Grace really gone, Cas? We missed most of what happened.”

Cas nodded and wiped at his eyes again. Balthazar made a soft tutting noise before using some of his own Grace to clean the blood off Castiel’s person.

“I messed up, Bobby. This is all my fault, and now Dean hates me.”

Bobby grunted and softly whacked Cas on the side of the head.

“That boy couldn’t hate you if he tried, Cas. He’s just upset. We’ll figure everything out, you’ll see. Now get back to the house and clean up. Jody and I are going to call in a few favors, figure out what the little snot meant about the place where Heaven and Earth meet. You guys need to find a way to fool the son of a bitch into thinking Dean’s dead so we can get the drop on him, you hear me?”

The two angels nodded and the group parted ways. As he walked beside Balthazar, Cas flexed his fingers repetitively and stared in awe at his hands. Without his Grace, he felt like a muted, infantile version of himself. He felt impotent and tiny. This was definitely not an experience he was enjoying, although he had been all too happy to give up his Grace when he thought it had meant a resolution to the doubts that had clouded his waking mind and haunted his dreams.

It did not matter now, however. Metatron had tricked him. Had… had… fucked him over, as Dean would say, and he was determined now to retrieve his Grace and regain his place at Dean’s side. Unless… unless the only answer to this horrible predicament was really his lover’s death. Well, then Cas would just ask for one of his brothers to kill him, as well, so that he would not have to live in this existence without his heart. That would be the only just solution to his plight.

Mind made up, Cas stepped into the copse of trees that surrounded their cabin… and was brought up short. Balthazar had continued walking, and it took several paces for him to notice that the other angel was not at his side. He turned back around.

“Cassie?”

Taking a deep breath, Castiel once again tried to take a step forward onto the grounds of their home… and it was as if he had walked into a brick wall. His aching heart, which had begun to have hope of working things out with Dean… plummeted. His chest constricted with a horrible pain.

“Brother… I have been cast out.”

Balthazar took a step forward and snagged Cas’ hand.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Just walk.”

But when he attempted to tug Castiel across the border of the cabin’s land, Cas slammed into an invisible force and would not pass through it.

“What the bloody hell?”

Cas shook his head solemnly and shifted back, away from the border.

“He does not want me there, so I cannot go. Don’t you see? I…”

The angel’s eyes widened in realization.

“I brought the serpent into the Garden of Eden.”

Dean was sitting on the couch in the middle of the living room, hunched over on himself with his face buried in his hands. He knew that Gabe was seated beside him, but he didn’t have presence of mind to check how the angel was doing, his mind was elsewhere. Working on a solution as fast as he could ponder it. There was no way that with all the power he had at his disposal, he couldn’t find a way to out-maneuver that detestable little fuck Metatron.

He brain was stuck rotating the images of Sam hemorrhaging blood out of his belly, and the utterly crushed look on Cas’ face when Dean was screaming at him. He sniffled once and wiped at the tears that kept gathering in his eyes against his permission. Right, gotta keep it the fuck together, Winchester.

Rubbing at his eyes with the tips of his fingers, Dean finally heaved out a heavy sigh. He could feel Gabriel perk up next to him and turn his attention to Dean.

“Okay, Gabe. Let’s consider what we know. Metatron is a skeevy little fucker who thinks very highly of himself, apparently.”

Gabriel snorted and responded with a voice scratchy from grief.

“He also thinks he knows more about you than he really does. He thinks you’re wet behind the ears and naïve to the workings of Heaven. He also doesn’t know about your connections, and I’m pretty damn sure he doesn’t have a clue about how much power you really have.”

Dean hummed in thought and then scrubbed his hands roughly through his hair.

“Yup. Okay. I need you to go find Crowley. I’ve got an idea.”

Gabe stood and faced him. Dean pretended he didn’t noticed the angel’s puffy, red-rimmed eyes.

“Got it. What are you gonna do?”

Dean groaned as he stood up.

“I need to find myself a Horseman of Death. Meet back here as soon as—”

“WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?”

Gabriel and Dean both froze in the middle of the room, where they had been about to depart on their various tasks. Balthazar had appeared nearly jammed between them, red in the face and flailing his arms in Dean’s direction. Dean blinked and took a step back.

“Excuse me?”

Balthazar groaned and stomped his foot like a petulant teenager.

“I asked you what the fuck you think you’re doing!? Do you even realize that your, for all intents and purposes, HUSBAND is sitting at Singer’s place HUMAN… in pain? Without his Grace? Unable to even return to his own fucking house because you’ve seen fit to BANISH him from it? He thinks you hate him! And is currently contemplating asking Gabriel or I to KILL him if you don’t make it through this! I know that you’re a goddamn stubborn little shit, but you’re not cruel!”

Dean raised his hands in a placating gesture.

“Okay! Okay, Bal! I get it!”

The angel took a menacing step closer.

“Do you? Do you fucking really? Because the only way Metatron could have duped Castiel into doing this was by playing on fears and thoughts that were already present in his mind. He’s been worried about losing you for months. Did you ever talk to him about it? Because I know that you noticed. Just like you noticed Sam pulling away from you a little, and Bobby and Jody… but you stuck your head in the sand rather than deal with any of it, didn’t you? You’ve been a bloody fucking coward.”

With a stumbling step backward, Dean fell back into the couch and covered his eyes with his hands.

“I know. I know, dammit. I’m… I’m being torn in a million directions here, and I’m trying to keep it all together but I’m so splintered that half the time I can’t even remember if you’re people I actually know… or just… familiar strangers. I’m fractured. I’m pulling at the seams, and I can’t… I’m not sure…”

He glanced up at the angels standing before him, and was surprised by the matching looks of shock on their faces.

“Guys… I’m losing myself.”

He could feel twin tracks of tears slip down his face. Balthazar suddenly dropped to his knees right before Dean and reached up to grasp Dean’s head firmly between his hands. He gave it a rough little shake, and a rough little hiccup of a sob escaped Dean’s throat at the action. The angel shook his head.

“My god, you self-sacrificing little prick, when you start to feel this way… you TALK to us about it! We are your family! And as a group we could have helped you through this, grounded you! Instead you tried to take it all onto your own shoulders, and look where it’s gotten you, sweetheart.”

Dean shook his head in denial.

“I’m supposed to take over for Chuck. I’m supposed to be strong and… and carry the world.”

Gabriel scoffed softly and sank down beside Dean on the couch. The arch-angel reached up with a hand to run it affectionately over Dean’s head.

“Do you really think Dad did it all on his own, Deano? He had us… that’s what we were for. You just have to let us help you, muffin, instead of bottling it all up inside. You might be the Quarterback, but you have an entire team at your side to get you through the game, you get me? Now, Balty and I love you loads, but we really need to figure out what the hell we’re going to do about this whole situation, okay? I need my baby back, and that little angel douche-nugget needs to be taught his place.”

Dean took a fortifying breath and nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got an idea. Gabe’s got his assignment. I’ve got to go find Pale Horse. I’m leaving Cas with you, Bal, okay? You keep him safe, and I’ll send you a message on what to do later. Don’t let him do anything stupid in the meantime, okay?”

Balthazar slowly lifted himself to his feet.

“You aren’t going to let Cassie in on the plan?”

With a sigh, Dean shook his head.

“No. He’ll probably hate me later, but I need his reaction to be genuine. We all know that Cas can’t act for shit.”

Gabe snorted, and all three men vanished in different directions.

When he and Balthazar landed, Castiel took in the golden dome and beautiful arches of the Temple Mount and found himself shivering just a little.

“We shouldn’t be here. This location is held sacred by so many, the thought of accidentally desecrating it somehow worries me.”

Balthazar snorted.

“We’re here because Metatron considers himself a self-important little shit, and this is the perfect setting in his mind for the bequeathing of Heaven’s Throne. Don’t worry, Cassie. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be considered desecration if it was visited by God and a gaggle of angels. It’s not like we’re going to be tagging the place.”

Castiel gave his brother a small smile before tightly crossing his arms over his chest.

“So, what are we to do? Just wait here? We are the first to arrive. Are you sure that Dean wants me here?”

With a derisive little snort under this breath, Balthazar began to walk around the Temple grounds. They were early enough in the morning that the moon and stars could still be seen, although the horizon was lightening at the edges. The guards and worshippers that he’d expected upon arrival were nowhere to be seen. Metatron, or perhaps Dean, appeared to have magicked them all away so that they would not be disturbed in this moment. He suspected Dean. He was pretty sure that vile little rat Metatron would have probably reveled in the attention of a crowd.

“Alright, darling. I’m going to scout around for traps real quick. Don’t go anywhere.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but didn’t move as his brother vanished.

“There will be no traps, I promise.”

Castiel whirled around, only to be confronted by Sam’s visage. Although it was immediately recognizable that Sam was not currently in charge of his own body. The emotionless mask gave it away.

“Gadreel. Please. That man you are using is my friend. He did not ask for this. Please free him. You can use my vessel if you like.”

Gadreel’s eyes widened just slightly as his head tilted to the side with a questioning look.

“I did not wish to hurt Sam Winchester. I was not given a choice. You… would give yourself over so freely, brother?”

Castiel could only nod frantically in response as he took a cautious step closer.

“Of course. He… should never have been involved in this. I was wrong. I regret my decisions.”

A deeply amused, derisive voice spoke up from behind him.

“Well, I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that, Castiel. You made your bed, and now you must lie in it.”

Castiel growled under his breath as he turned to face Metatron.

“You are a liar and a traitor to the Heavenly Host.”

Metatron cackled.

“It would take one to know one, wouldn’t you say? But let’s not get into that right yet, brother. Please step away from Gadreel. I am curious how you came to be at this location on your own with no powers or wings to bring you here.”

“He’s not alone.”

The two angels and Castiel all turned as one to find Dean, Gabriel, and Balthazar standing united not far away. Gabriel had his golden angel blade in his hand, and Dean was twirling an empty little vile around in his fingers. Castiel shook his head in denial and quickly shuffled over towards the group.

“No. No, Dean… there has to be another way. Please don’t do this.”

Dean turned to face Castiel and gave him a small smile. He motioned him over with his empty hand and Castiel immediately launched himself to wrap around Dean, burying his face into his lover’s neck. Dean’s hands clasped him tightly, one on the back of his neck and one tangled into his hair.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s all gonna be okay.”

Castiel pulled back far enough to look into the eyes above him. Dean smiled before bending down to press his lips against the angels with a strong pressure. Castiel couldn’t help but gasp a little at the force, and as soon as his mouth opened just a touch, Dean was pushing something small and spherical into it with his tongue. Castiel’s eyes widened just slightly and he tucked the smooth little object beneath his tongue. There was a soft whisper of Dean’s voice in his mind that advised him to break it between his teeth when ‘all hell breaks loose’… and he immediately knew that Dean had a plan of some sort. Which made him feel at the same time, better… and infinitely worried.

“Please… can we stop with the ridiculous romantic sub-plot and move on to the climax where you give me the rule of Heaven and then die off like the humorous side character you should have been all along?”

Dean sighed and carefully released Castiel, to push him behind him and towards Balthazar. Castiel shook his head and whispered ‘no’ in distress… but he was ignored by all involved.

“Release Sam and my parents, and then we’ll see how this plays out.”

Metatron laughed.

“How about no? You give me your Grace, and then I’ll release Sammy boy. Your parents I’ve already locked back up into their own private Heaven. I had no more use for them as leverage. After all… sweet little baby brother has always been enough for you to give up everything you have, eh, Dean? He’s your literal foible. I would tell you to work on that, but it’s not going to matter in a moment anyway.”

Dean eyed the smaller man with distrust, and Castiel didn’t blame him for it at all.

“How do I know that you’ll keep your word?”

Metatron lifted a shoulder to gesture in Gadreel’s general direction.

“Gads here is an angel of integrity. He won’t let anything happen to your baby brother. He’ll return to his rightful vessel as soon as we are finished here.”

Gabriel stepped up beside Dean and twirled his angel blade in his hand. The rising sun glinted off the golden surface.

“If he doesn’t, trust me when I say there will be Hell to pay.”

Metatron smirked, but only made a shooing motion with his hands, as if to tell them to get on with it. Gabriel shifted toward Dean and placed the tip of his blade right above Dean’s heart. Castiel felt his knees weaken as he choked on a sob.

“No no no… Gabriel, please.”

Behind him, Balthazar patted Castiel gingerly on the shoulder as he stepped forward to take the little glass vile from Dean’s outstretched fingers. Castiel collapsed on the ground when his strength absolutely left him. If he had his Grace… if he had his powers… he could step in and either stop this madness, or perhaps be part of whatever plan his lover and brothers were enacting. But as it was, he was left feeling impotent and useless. Terrified about whatever the next few minutes would bring.

Gabriel cleared his throat and sniffled. There were genuine tears filling his eyes.

“Sorry, boss.”

Dean smiled at his arch-angel.

“No hard feelings, Gabe. Take care of everybody.”

Gabriel nodded and took a deep breath. He let it out slowly and carefully, braced his arms to push the blade through, but after a moment of nothing happening… his lower lip began to tremble.

“I… I can’t…”

One of the tears that had been welling in his eyes slipped down his face, and Dean smiled warmly at him before he reached down to grasp Gabriel’s hands within his own and pulled slowly forward so that the blade sank in about an inch into his chest. Dean grunted in pain, and Gabriel released a horrible sob. Castiel found himself beginning to weep uncontrollably, but he couldn’t look away. Blood began to soak through the pristine white shirt Dean had been wearing as he turned toward Balthazar and nodded. A glow of Grace had begun to trickle out of the wound, and Balthazar leaned forward to place the enchanted vile close enough to collect it.

Somewhere in the background noise, Metatron could be heard giggling with morbid glee, but Castiel only pretended he didn’t exist for this moment. He was fairly certain that his life was about to fall apart right before his eyes. Finally, Balthazar stepped back and capped this little vile with a bejeweled cork. Dean was panting harshly in pain as he watched his angel step away. Before anything could be said or done, Metatron rushed forward and shoved at Gabriel’s back. The motion thrust the angel blade straight into Dean’s chest. Castiel could hear his lover’s breastbone crack as it pierced through and into Dean’s chest.

Chaos erupted immediately. Gabriel and Balthazar screamed as Dean gave a pain-choked gurgle and fell backwards into Balthazar’s arms. Gadreel took a shocked step forward, Sam’s face a mask of indecision. In the fray, the vile of Grace had been dropped and Metatron scrabbled after it to keep it from breaking.

Castiel was stunned into paralyzed silence… and almost without thinking about it… he shoved the little ball in his mouth between his teeth and bit down until it cracked. The world around him disappeared into a haze of white. There was nothing to see except a blurry figure slowly walking towards him in the blinding brightness. Tears were streaming down his face, and his heart felt as though it might stop beating on its own violation… but he remained there in a crumpled heap as the figure drew closer.

Eventually he could make out the man’s form. He was dressed all in white, with bare feet and short hair… and as he drew closer… Castiel recognized the cut of his shoulders. The ratio of his chest to waist. The bending curve of his bow legs. He sobbed outright as Dean dropped into a crouch before him.

“Hi, baby. Good job. Perfect timing as always.”

Castiel sobbed.

“Dean!”

The man smiled and reached forward to bring Castiel into the embrace of his arms.

“Don’t worry, baby. Don’t worry. It looks bad now, but it’s all going to be okay. I promise.”

Castiel could only nod mutely as Dean pulled back to meet his gaze.

“Do you remember, when all of this began… in that warehouse so long ago when you threw the little ball of light at me and I swallowed it?”

The angel laughed through a whimper and nodded. Dean grinned at him and continued.

“All that little light was… was a single drop of God’s Grace, remember? And remember everything I could do?”

Dean grinned as Castiel’s eyes widened. He brought his hand up to touch at his lips, where Dean had passed something into his mouth. Where he had bit down and been flooded by a familiar warmth and aching love that he knew intimately. Dean nodded as he leaned forward to press their lips together once again. As he moved away from Castiel… the white began to fade out of the world surrounding them.

“Give ‘em Hell, Cas.”

Dean coughed and felt bubbles of blood pour out of his mouth. The pain was excruciating as he sank back into Balthazar’s embrace. The angel’s hands were pressing down on the wound with force as Dean’s head lolled against Balthazar’s shoulder. Above him, Gabriel was cursing and patting at Dean’s face with his bloody hands.

“Fuck. Fuck. Dean! Deano! Just… just hold on.”

Somewhere off where Dean couldn’t see, Metatron laughed.

“Hold on? Are we doing the cheesy dramatic death bed lines now? The thing plunged into his fucking heart! I’m surprised he isn’t dead already!”

Gabriel’s head whipped around and he growled in a choking voice.

“You shut the hell up! You got what you wanted! Release Sam and leave us the fuck alone!”

Metatron sighed as if in disappointment.

“Oh fine… ruin my fun.”

There was a flash of light and a choked cry before Dean could hear his brother’s voice panting out harshly. A tromping of feet brought his little brother in close and Dean could see Sam slam into Gabe’s side before reaching down to touch at Dean’s face. There were already tears streaming down his little brother’s face and Dean wished he could shake his head about all these tears being spilled over him.

“Oh my God, Dean! Nononono! What happened!?”

Dean flicked his eyes over towards Cas, who was sitting completely still, eyes clouded over white… everyone ignorant of him. Dean’s mouth ticked up a little, trying to smile through the pain, but it was vicious and shocking in its intensity. He flicked his gaze the other direction and could just barely make out the dark shadow of the Grimm Reaper standing nearby, unseen by anyone else, with a slight frown on his mouth. Which on anyone else would have been equivalent to a being downright worried and unsettled.

“I need to beg a favor of you.”

“The Chosen requests a favor from Death? I am almost appalled to think of what sort of mess you must have gotten yourself into this time.”

“I would give you more details, but I don’t have the time. Please?”

“Tell me what you need of me, and I will consider granting this request.”

“Can you keep me from dying? For just a couple minutes? Someone is going to do something to kill me, and I need it to work… but I don’t want to die.”

“You are a befuddling creature. Please admit that you understand that.”

“Trust me, you have no idea… but can you do it?”

Death turned to meet his gaze beyond the hovering shadows of his angels and brother. The horseman nodded once as if to acknowledge that their deal still held. Dean managed a barely-there wink at him, but the onslaught of pain was seriously draining his energy. And poor, oblivious Sammy above him was screaming and sobbing at Gabriel to do something. Poor Sammy.

A subtle flare in the aura around him drew Dean’s gaze back over to Castiel. His angel’s eyes had cleared of the white haze, and he was slowly pushing himself to his feet. Dean coughed, felt the blood drip down his chin in thick rivulets, and then reached a hand towards Sam.

“Sc… scoot in close, Sammy. Shit’s about… to go down.”

His brother practically snapped his neck in his haste to return his gaze to Dean.

“Wh-what? Dean?”

Privy to the plan, Balthazar and Gabriel both scooched in close to Dean, dragging Sam into their huddle. Dean sent a silent plea to Balthazar to shift him upwards a little more so he could still witness the looming ass-kicking. He could feel the rest of them turn their gaze to follow his line of sight. Cas was staring silently at his hands, and Dean could finally make out Metatron fiddling with the little glass vile lit up with Grace’s glow.

“How do you get this damn thing to open?”

Castiel stamped his foot and the world around them shook. The vile slipped right out of Metatron’s hands and smashed into pieces on the hard ground. The angel cried in distress, but that was cut short when the glowing white mist inside suddenly turned a deep blood red smoke and twirled away cackling, to disappear down into the ground.

“WHAT!? You tricked me! How dare you deceive the Word of God!?”

Cas drew in a deep breath, and power suddenly exploded out of him. Three glorious sets of platinum wings exploded from his back as he spread his arms wide, and flashes of power lit up and down his fingers.

“You are not the Word. Not to this God. Sam Winchester is the Word of God.”

Above Dean, Sammy squeaked, but there wasn’t time for any kind of response before the world exploded into a tumultuous rainbow of light.

Castiel could feel all the Grace inside him lighting up his nerves and dancing about his muscles. It tasted of Dean. That made his heart soar and his anger of the vile little creature before him follow quickly behind. Metatron roared in anger in response to his statement, and produced his angel blade into his palm. The slighter man charged at Castiel, but with the power of ultimate celestial grace flooding through his body, he simply slowed time enough to casually step to the side.

Metatron fumbled forward when his target disappeared but he quickly righted himself, and with a huff of anger, flung enough power to knock Castiel off his feet. Correction. It would have previously knocked Castiel off his feet, but this time it only managed to push him back a step. He glanced down and wondered at the odd feeling of attachment he now felt towards the earth. He had the strangest desire to kick off his shoes and wiggle his toes into ground. Perhaps that explains Dean’s current aversion to shoes.

With a quick smile and tilt of his head directed towards the scuffed orange sneakers on his feet, Castiel dismissed the notion. He and his Converse had been through too much for them to be simply cast aside.

Apparently growing much aggrieved at Castiel’s lack of attention to his person, Metatron flushed with power and ripped a giant stone from the grounds of the Temple Mount to send hurtling toward the younger angel. Castiel raised his left hand and stopped the projectile with no effort. He scowled at Metatron as he gently returned the massive object to its rightful place.

“Do not be disrespectful.”

Metatron growled and stamped his foot as would a toddler in the midst of a tantrum.

“You’re messing up my story!”

Castiel could only shake his head as the other angel stormed towards him once again, death grip on his angel blade turning his knuckles a stark white. With a much aggrieved sigh of impatience, Castiel rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue as he had often witnessed Dean doing.

“The only story you are in belongs to Dean. And you are but a cut-rate villain in the final chapter of it.”

Metatron screeched and lunged at him. It was all over fairly quickly after that. With a simple snap of his fingers, there was only a sucking sound of displaced air left where the former Word of God had once stood. Castiel gave a thoughtful hum of indifference before he turned back towards his family. He could feel his wings slip away as he quickly walked over to where his brothers and Sam were huddled around Dean.

His lover was leaning back into Balthazar’s arms with a bloody grin on his face. When Castiel knelt down beside him, Dean gave a soft chuckle that ended with a worrying wheeze.

“That’s my little nerdy angel. Good job, boo.”

Castiel lifted a single eyebrow a fraction at the term of endearment, but quickly moved to reach forward and heal the mortal wound in Dean’s chest. A soft clearing of a throat halted his movement, and he was surprised to glance up and find Death hovering a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back.

“I would prefer you not do that quite yet, young man.”

The others jumped at the soft voice, and the Grimm Reaper’s eyes seemed to almost dance with glee at the reaction. Sam sputtered softly.

“But… but it’s a mortal wound… he needs to be healed.”

Death’s resulting sigh was veritably dripping with apathy.

“Indeed, a mortal wound that should have killed him instantly, and yet… oh look… he isn’t dead. Which would seem to indicate that he is in no danger of dropping off in the next few seconds. There is an agreement to be fulfilled first, I’m afraid.”

Dean snorted and shifted carefully in Balthazar’s arms.

“Yeah, yeah… no need to needle, ya nag. Cas, can you retrieve the vile we gave Meta-douche, please?”

A quick flick of his fingers produced the little bottle with its jeweled top. Dean smiled at him as he carefully took it from Castiel’s hands with shaking fingers. With much less finesse than usual, he removed the top and swiped the vile through the copious amounts of blood trickling from the gaping wound in his chest. Once there was a good amount inside, it was sealed again and held up towards the Grim Reaper.

“All yours, Pale Horse. Hope it works.”

The angel of death smirked as he took the bloody vile.

“I’ll introduce you when he’s ready.”

Dean cackled.

“Oh, please do. I can’t wait.”

Death vanished from their midst and Sam sighed with resignation.

“Do we even want to know?”

Dean groaned. He seemed to be sliding even further to a prone state, and Balthazar was struggling to right him as gingerly as possible.

“Probably not… is’ fuckin’ nutty.”

Speech slurring and consciousness obviously wavering, Dean blinked in Castiel’s general direction.

“‘kay, babe… prolly should get on with the healing now.”

With those last words, his lover slipped into oblivion and Castiel immediately reached forward to reclaim his heart and soul.

Dean sighed softly as he opened his eyes and was surprised to find himself back in his bed in the cabin. He couldn’t remember anything past Cas flinging Metatron out into oblivion. He wasn’t even sure where his lover sent him. Another time, another universe… maybe even another planet. He groaned and rubbed at his chest. He could feel that the wound was gone, but there was still a horrible aching deep in his heart.

“That was a very wise thing to do. To get Death to hold off your Reaping.”

He turned to find Castiel sitting, cross-legged, directly next to him on their bed. Dean smiled, but it was weak. He felt weaker than he had since long before Chuck started shoving Grace in his general direction.

“Yeah? Was pretty proud of myself for that one, too.”

His angel’s gaze kept roaming from his own hands, fingers knotting and releasing in an endless loop, and the comforter beneath them. He refused to meet Dean’s eyes.

“What… what was his price? The blood? I didn’t understand.”

Dean shrugged.

“Eh, it’s weird. The blood… the four feathers… he’s using them to make a crow.”

Cas’ gaze flicked up to meet his in surprise.

“A… crow?”

“Yeeeeah… he mumbled something about a long lost companion that was destroyed when he was being ‘bound and chained by a self-absorbed miscreant deity and his dickless infestation of gasbags with wings.’”

Cas grunted.

“Huh. Descriptive.”

Dean smiled as his angel finally held his gaze steadily. He lifted a tired arm and tapped Cas gently on the nose with his index finger.

“How are things, baby?”

Cas’ breath hitched once audibly before he fell forward and wrapped around Dean like a clinging little octopus. His angel’s face was smashed directly into Dean’s chest, right over the spot he’d been stuck with the blade, and was already beginning to soak Dean’s shirt with tears.

“I am so sorry, Dean. All this happened because of me.”

Dean hummed lightly and stroked a gently hand down his lover’s back.

“That what happened? We found and disposed of a traitor in our midst?”

“No!”

“That we found out where my parents were and got them return to their rightful place in Heaven?”

Cas gasped against his chest.

“No! Dean!”

“Ooooor do you mean how Sam has now been Named? Or how you’ve been elevated to arch-angel status? Or how we all managed to survive this in one piece?”

The angel drew back away from him, shaking his head.

“You are not in one piece… and… and that is not what I meant. This has all been my fault!”

Dean grinned.

“I know! That’s what I’m saying. Good job, honey.”

Castiel groaned and flopped down sideway besides Dean on the bed.

“You will not let me apologize.”

Dean shrugged.

“As far as I’m concerned… you have nothing to apologize for. Now stop badgering me so much… I’m wounded. Did you find your Grace, by the way?”

Cas nodded and Dean raised his eyebrows in a silent question. The angel dropped his gaze to stare at their sheets.

“I’ve reclaimed it. It… mixed very well with the drop of yours. I hope you did not wish for me to return it. That may be impossible now.”

Dean grinned.

“Nah. Meant for you to keep it. Made you a proper arch-angel, didn’t it?”

Silence reigned in the room for a few moments as Castiel scooted closer to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder and bring a hand up to settle it directly over Dean’s heart. Dean assumed it must have been Cas that healed him from his not-so-fatal fatal wound. Hopefully it wasn’t too traumatizing. Cas sniffed once delicately before he started to trace shapes across Dean’s skin with his soft fingertips.

“How did you accomplish all of this? I still find myself caught in disbelief. Where is your true Grace? How… how did we win?”

Dean rumbled a happy noise as he lifted his hand to tangle his fingers together with Cas’.

“Wasn’t as hard as you would imagine. Crowley brought us the remainder of Lucifer’s box and we fashioned it into a container that no one could breach, and it would hide the Grace from detection. Bobby has it safe in his panic room. Then our neighborhood King of Hell glamoured himself to appear as my Grace and hitchhiked a ride with me to the meeting.”

Cas pulled back his head to meet Dean’s eyes in shock.

“You… you were only human when you met with Metatron?”

Dean grinned.

“I’ve been only human for most of my life, Cas. And it never once stopped me from taking on the big battles, did it?”

His angel shook his head silently, but his eyes were shining with an easily recognizable light of awe. Dean shrugged, a little embarrassed.

“I mean… it wasn’t a bad plan, right? It hurt… but it accomplished everything. I’ll take my Grace back when I’m up for it… we’ll go find Mom and Dad… and hopefully we’ll have a little more peace and quiet in the world for a while. I’ve got some ideas for task delegations that might take a bit of pressure off me. Let us spend some more time with the family. What do you think?”

Cas grinned and brought their tangled hands up to his lips to kiss at Dean’s knuckles.

“I think I would like that very much.”

Dean smoothed a thumb along the angel’s full lips.

“Know what else I think?”

Cas smiled and shook his head.

“I think we should get married.”

It took him a couple minutes to calm the angel down after his coughing fit.

Later that evening, after Cas had scampered off to make his amends with the rest of the family, Dean was woken from a light doze by a massive bulk crawling into bed next to him. He smirked without even opening his eyes.

“Have a nightmare, Sammy? Want to snuggle up with big bro?”

There was a loud snort before Dean felt Sam settle beside him.

“Try not to be an ass for five minutes okay? There are a couple things I need to explain to you.”

The serious inflection of his tone made Dean open his eyes and meet his brother’s gaze.

“Sure, Sam. Go for it.”

The younger Winchester sighed.

“I need to tell you why I accepted Gadreel inside.”

Dean shifted sideways and started to protest, but he was immediately cut off.

“Yes, I do, now shut up for once. I… I was in pain and confused and… he played on my insecurities. Just like Metatron did with Castiel. Told me that the entire universe knew the importance of Dean Winchester, but that I would never be more than a speck in the annals of time. That when you took up the throne, you would eventually forget me because I couldn’t stand by your side in the Host. That Gabriel would forget me when I was relegated to the Heaven meant for souls and not angels. He said that he could give me Grace, make me an angel… and in a moment of weakness… I believed him.”

Now Sam turned to face him, and the tears swimming in his little brother’s eyes tore at Dean’s soul.

“Sammy… you know I would never forget you. Those things he said… that’s never going to happen.”

His brother sighed and returned his gaze to the bedroom ceiling.

“Isn’t it? I was there, too, Dean. When you leveled up and nearly decided to leave us behind. So I understand a little why Cas did what he did. Why he thought it was right. You’ve been slipping away from us a little at a time. And I know it’s selfish to resent that. I know that you belong to everyone now and not just me… not just us. But it’s hard, you know? Because maybe sometimes I DO just want to ‘snuggle up with my big bro’… but then you, you’ll say or do something that reminds me. Maybe he doesn’t exist anymore.”

Dean could feel his body begin to sort of… fold in on itself. Hunching his shoulders and pulling up his legs in an almost defensive, fetal position. These were all things he had known and feared himself, but had really been hoping no one else had noticed. Sam eyed him for a second before he sighed and reached over to gently butt his fist against Dean’s temple.

“I’m not angry with you. And I’m not saying these things to be hurtful. I’m just trying to get you to understand what the rest of us might be going through… outside your bubble of influence. Sometimes we feel more like your employees than your family. I wanted… I wanted to talk to you about my relationship with Gabriel. You wanted to use it as, in all fairness here… a publicity stunt. Balthazar and Gabriel have been desperate for your attention and approval. And poor Cas has been worrying himself to death for months that one day you would just be gone. You didn’t talk to us, Dean. You didn’t let us share your burden, and that’s what we’re supposed to be here for.”

With a nod, Dean blew out a deep breath and kicked gently at his brother’s long legs.

“I know, Sammy. I get it. I promise I do. And I’m going to work every day at making sure things don’t get to this level of shit show again… you can hold me to that. But I can’t offer perfection. I can’t offer a fairytale ending… ‘cuz, man… the shit I have swimming around in my brain now is scary. Every choice I make… I can see the infinite alternate universes that could have been if I had picked differently. I see people and events that I feel I’ve known and experienced… but to a different version of myself. Sometimes I can’t remember which the right one is.”

Sam’s face had scrunched into his overly concerned puppy look.

“Jesus, Dean.”

Dean could only shrug and tick a quick smile in response.

“Right? But I’m getting used to it. I’ll get better at it. The boys and I are working on some ideas for restructuring. I want to have more time to spend at home. It might be a rough road for a bit, but we’ll figure it out. That’s what we do, right?”

Shaking his head, Sam laughed softly.

“Yeah. That’s what we do.”

Dean snorted and then stretched himself out to his full length on the bed.

“Yup.”

The room held a comfortable silence for several moments. A gentle breeze drifted silently through the room while the low summer sun cast the shadows of trees across the ceiling. For the first time in years, a sense of peace settled comfortably right between Dean’s ribs and he grinned.

“You do understand that you’re laying right in the spot where Cas pounded me into the mattress mere hours ago, right?”

Sam squawked as he rolled, snagging a pillow as he went to smack Dean directly in the face with it.

“Why are you such an ASS!?”

The room erupted into a fit of giggles and rough-housing that two perfectly fine down pillows gave their too brief lives for. In the living room downstairs, Castiel’s gaze met Gabriel’s as they simultaneously rolled their eyes at the ruckus emanating from upstairs. Gabriel popped his gum loudly in the room.

“Brothers, right?”

Then promptly pegged Castiel between the eyes with a rubber band.

EPILOUGE:

The doors of Harvelle’s Road House banged shut behind them as the gathered crowd drifted into silence. Dean took a deep breath before he grinned at the horde around him. The next instant, Jo was screeching towards him in glee and he had to catch her mid-leap. He laughed brightly as she patted his cheeks and gave him a smacking kiss. Before he could recover, Ellen shooed her daughter away and brought him close in for a squeezing hug.

“Oh, sweetie… you’ve done so well.”

Dean’s eyes burned, but he refused to cry, so he laughed softly instead as she stepped back a pace and allowed Ash to come in for a hug. Adam appeared from nowhere and Dean brought their foreheads together in a gentle bonk, then ruffled the younger man’s hair. After that, there were dozens of people closing in to pat him on the back or shake his hand. He could only grin a little self-consciously as he felt Cas sticking close to his back. They shifted slowly over towards the bar, when suddenly the crowd parted and Dean sucked in an unsteady breath.

Two figures were standing side by side waiting for him, and now the tears did begin to streak down his face… because he had never truly imagined meeting them both again. One, he didn’t really know, but couldn’t wait to learn. The other had been far from perfect, but he couldn’t wait to forgive. Dean reached behind him to snag his angel’s hand and pull him up to stand beside him.

“Hey… hey Mom… Dad… this is Cas.”