Disclaimers: I went trick or treating, and all I got was tricks and no Dean or Sam for me!

Notes: As always, love to Becca, my beta.

October in Wilmington, North Carolina, was crisp, but not too chilly. Old Southern homes lined ancient boulevards, heavy with willows and oaks and Spanish Moss that dripped from weathered bark.

Sam had insisted they stop in the old port town. They were in North Carolina, anyway, and Sam stressed the importance of taking it a little easy these days. Dean didn't comment, but he didn't complain, either. Wilmington was heavy with its share of haunts, so if they got bored, they could keep themselves occupied. Castiel, who was helping them locate Pestilence, hadn't separated ways yet. Sam thought he might be lonely.

They found a Bed and Breakfast tucked in among the neighborhood just off the waterfront. The prices were reasonable as it was off-season, and the owner, Mrs. Mitchell, kept to herself. She kept throwing Castiel looks that Sam couldn't decipher, but she was quiet and kind, and they didn't see a lot of her.

"Too frilly," Was Dean's only comment on the place.

Sam excused himself to find lore at the local bookstore on the frequency of ghost lights in the state. When he returned, he found Dean and Castiel at the kitchen table, an entire mixed bag of candy spread out on the polished mahogany top. Dean was sliding chocolates around, dividing them up by type. He looked up when Sam entered.

"Hey, Sam! Just showing Castiel why Halloween doesn't always suck." Dean waved his hand over the candy, as if he'd just performed a magic trick.

Sam rolled his eyes and laughed. "You'll make yourself sick," he said, heading towards the bathroom. When he came back out, Dean was looking at Castiel a little too intently. "What's going on?"

"Just having a talk," Dean said, "about chocolate." He stood up suddenly. "Let's get some food."

Dean grabbed the keys, and Sam followed him out, noticing the conspicuous lack of wrappers.

0o0o0o0o0o

Castiel stared at the bacon cheeseburger Dean had ordered for him. Dean was jabbering happily about the blessings of bacon and real grease, when Castiel's eyes met Sam's. Castiel, for all his failure at operating his human body, was able to give Sam a very wry look and Sam burst out laughing. Dean tapered off.

"Weirdoes," Dean declared, taking a giant bite out of his cheeseburger and rolling his eyes.

They finished eating and left, Castiel's dinner untouched. The sun was just setting, and children in brightly colored costumes had begun popping up on the streets like so many ghosts. They swung pillowcases or plastic pumpkin heads, their happy chatter filling the air.

"I want to inspect this city," Castiel announced. Sam and Dean shared a look. "It is a nice evening," Castiel explained.

Dean looked thoughtful at that, and remained quiet. Sam knew he was missing something, but unlike all the secrets in their lives over the last few years, this was something private but not harmful.

Castiel walked ahead of the brothers, and it was as though he was someplace else entirely. His gaze was distant, his expression, as usual, impassive. But Sam could see wistfulness there, too, and as he watched the angel, he suddenly thought of all the things that he, too, had lost.

This war was not easy on any of them. In their own way, they had all helped orchestrate the current situation. Dean had broken the first seal, and Sam the last, but Castiel had nudged them along at the guidance of his higher. They had all been ignorant, but that did not make them blameless.

Sam grinned. They were in the same lot as an angel. There was something funny about that. Would they be known one day to be on par with Adolf Eichmann? When people referred to them, would it be to point out the banality of evil?

No, they had saved a lot of people, too. Sam stood by that, regardless of what else happened.

"There are still beautiful days," Castiel announced suddenly. A woman herding a witch and a skeleton guided them away from the trio, giving Castiel a strange look. Castiel looked up at the gently turning leaves, gold and red catching the street and house lights. "Even during war."

"Well, sure," Sam said. "The world doesn't stop."

"But it means it still belongs to Him."

Dean snorted, but quieted when Sam threw him a look.

When they returned to the B&B, Mrs. Mitchell had already turned in for the evening, leaving the front porch on and the door unlocked. Sam excused himself to the bathroom, and Dean and Castiel headed back into the kitchen.

When Sam got back, Dean had no less than four pieces of candy shoved into the corners of his mouth. He gave Sam and gooey grin, chocolate dripping in a pool of spit at the corner of his mouth.

"I bwe raugh backhe," Dean announced, heading off in the direction of the bathroom.

Castiel looked up from where he was sitting at the table, his hands splayed out in front of him. He gave Sam a measured look. Whereas before the candy had been relatively untouched now Dean had made a pretty good dent into it.

"What's going on, Cas?" Sam asked, taking the third seat.

"Your brother asked me if I had X-Ray eyes so that I could make sure there was no razors in the candy."

"Razors in the candy?" Sam looked at the candy, all packaged, and fresh from the store.

"It is not within my power," Castiel said, ignoring Sam's question. "Angels can do many things, but we are not blessed with 'X-Ray eyes.'"

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him they were razor-free," Castiel said. He gave Sam a pointed look. It hadn't been a lie—there were no razors in the candy—but there had been a little bit of truth by assumption involved. Sam looked back at Castiel in surprise.

"Why would he think there were razors in the candy?" He repeated.

Castiel looked at Sam a long time. They could hear the toilet flush and the sink turn on. "Hell knew your brother's penchant towards candy," Castiel said just before Dean's footsteps could be heard over the old floorboards. "Hell enjoys corrupting the things you love most."

Dean came back into the warmly lit kitchen, plopping down as he simultaneously ripped open a Reeses. "You gonna try a piece?" He asked, holding the confection to Castiel.

Castiel waved it off. "It is not something I crave, and I am not fond of sweet things."

Dean shrugged. "Suit yourself. Sam?" Dean pushed a small pile of assorted chocolates to Sam.

Sam managed a weak smile that Dean didn't notice. He picked up a foiled piece that had a grinning pumpkin. The chocolate was a little stale, and had that funny taste that generic Halloween candy had, but he grabbed another one anyway. "Want milk?" He asked.

Dean snorted. "Are the Ghostfacers dweebs? Of course I want milk! C'mon!" Dean cracked open a Snickers. Sam found a jug of bottled milk in the fridge. Sam poured two large glasses and set them down on the polished table.

"Looks like we got off easy this year," Dean said cheerfully, taking a healthy gulp. When he sat the cup down, a milk mustache clung to the fine hairs of his upper lip.

"Looks like," Sam agreed.

He wished he had something a little stronger than milk to drink.

~Fin~

A/N

I recognize this is a little late ^^; I wrote it when I was in the Philippines and had a few days at home before going of to Korea. So I needed a few days off to decompress, which is why I didn't publish this ON Halloween. My B. I hope you all enjoy anyway!Halloween doesn't always suck!HHASdjAOWERIuWEoijOIDJOSAIDuoiIOui