Dean lay there wide awake, alert, heart pounding with his concern. He had been calling for her ever since she left so abruptly. He accessed the tether and called and called and called just waiting and hoping for an answer. He sat up in the bed and gazed around. Why couldn't he remember more than those intense sensations left by her hands, her lips, her raspy voice comforting and warm in his ear. He wanted to remember the details of last night and not be tortured by fragments.

Instead of letting his panic overtake him, he climbed out of the bed, pulled on a t-shirt and jeans, raked a hand through his hair and sat on the edge to think with his head in his hands. As he massaged his temples, he accessed the tether again. If she was alive, the connection would still be there. He concentrated hard, and was surprised by a gentle tug from the other side. She was okay. So then why did she leave? Why did she apologize and act as though she was never coming back? He shook his head. It didn't make sense. Had she mind wiped him? What was going on up there? Instead of focusing on all the questions that had no answers, he escaped the bedroom, crept across the cold floor barefoot into the kitchen, snatched the bottle of Whiskey (better known as Hunter's Helper) off the counter and carried it with him back to the bedroom. The amber liquid was his solace, though his body now had a higher tolerance than most humans. It would have taken at least a bottle of the stuff to start feeling good. He slugged a generous amount, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sank down onto the end of the bed, kicking the door closed with his foot. He just wanted to see her again. He needed to know that she wasn't being tortured by those douchenozzles upstairs.

He drank more because he was suddenly arrested by flashes of light and sensations that spiraled down through his body, leaving him breathless and moaning. He drank even more because that flash of light was being absorbed into his wet skin. He clutched around the neck of the bottle and crushed his free hand to his face. If this had been a normal relationship, he would have his cell phone in hand to dial her number and ask for a repeat performance. Sure there had been bendy women in the past, but none compared to her… and a night that had passed in such a blur he could have sworn he was drunk. How was it possible to still feel this good afterward?

But she was gone and she still had not gotten back to him. Her words lingered in the air like a faint perfume.

I'm so sorry, Dean… I will never forgive myself… not for this…

What was she talking about? What would she need to be forgiven for? What had she done? And why did she speak as though she regretted it?

Now he had to suffer with the hangover. She was gone, possibly for good, and he would only remember last night in bits and pieces, disembodied sensations that would eventually fade only to leave him paralyzed with misery.

"Damn it, Cas," he rasped, his concern slowly being replaced with a deep-set anger. He thought about chucking the bottle of whiskey at the wall, even swung it out, but thought better of it and reeled it back in to take yet another slug. The warming liquid only succeeded in enhancing his anger. Why wouldn't she at least take the time to let him know what was going on? Why would she leave him suspended like this? His voice came out a croak like he was gargling glass. "Where are you, you sonofabitch!"

A smooth voice startled him. "I'm here, Dean."

Dean lifted his head, and placed the bottle on the floor next to him. Standing there in front of the door, looking completely unruffled and serious in his male vessel, was Castiel. "You…" Dean started, but the angel was quick, closing the distance between them to place his finger on Dean's lips, shushing him. Without a word, he tugged his hand back, gestured for Dean to stand, and very lightly touched his forehead.

Upon arrival, Dean nearly fell to his knees if it wasn't for Castiel keeping him upright by gripping tight around his forearm. Dean gazed around him surprised by the familiarity of this place. "White Russia," he said out loud.

"Yes," the angel replied tonelessly, letting go of Dean's arm.

"You brought us to White Russia? Seriously? Are you gonna give me the 'it's not you, it's me' speech or something?"

Castiel tilted his head and Dean had to look away, not that this action really helped at all. His mind still managed to bend in response. "I don't know… that speech," Castiel admitted.

"Jesus," Dean sighed.

"I'm sorry, Dean…"

Dean rounded on him. "Why? What the hell is goin on, Cas? And don't take off on me, either! You owe me an explanation!"

Castiel nodded, mouth set in a hard line. "After…" he stammered unsure how to put what had happened last night into words; instead, he charged past it, "I was summoned by the council. They made it impossible for me to ignore them. I had no intention of leaving you, Dean, but their power far exceeds my own. I… I had no choice but to go."

Dean's anger ebbed slightly. Castiel was genuinely sorry, but that still did not explain why he—she- freaked out and begged for forgiveness.

He responded to his thoughts instantly. "My initial fear of what might succeed last night was quelled only by a much more severe consequence."

"What are we talkin?" Dean asked not surprised to have his head on the chopping block yet again- though he never imagined that having sex might be a fatal move on his part.

Castiel stood perfectly still, eyes open and unblinking. "I learned something regarding the infinite soul—your soul- that I chose to believe was a lie. It wasn't until I had words with the council that I discovered the rumour to be true." He inhaled then exhaled before finishing, his expression and voice devoid of emotion. "Your infinite soul is being harboured for the big event—the restoration of Heaven."

Dean shook his head. "I'm not following," he muttered. "How am I supposed to restore Heaven?"

"According to the council, you will be killed and your infinite soul will be released. Heaven will return to whence that it was before the rebellion, all the angels that have died in battle will be resurrected and God… will return." Dean gazed at Castiel's stoic expression and closed his eyes. Those thoughts he was tethered to were Enochian, but he now understood every last word.

I can't let this happen! I can't let him die… If he is killed, it will be because of me…

"Cas," Dean started, but the angel wasn't finished.

"Last night set things in motion. I tried to convince the council to disclose more details, but they insisted that it was unnecessary at the current time."

Dean caught onto the lull the angel had left in his wake and closed the distance between them to grip Castiel's trembling hands. "This isn't your fault," he said firmly.

"You're accessing my thoughts," Castiel said in a flat matter-of-fact tone.

"Yeah, so sue me for caring! I know you think it's your fault, Cas, and it isn't." He squeezed those impressively warm hands even tighter.

"I should have been able to exercise self-control."

"What happened was a two-man show," Dean argued.

This is just like it was after learning of Lilith and her plan to break the seals. I didn't make it then, either. I'm a failure. I failed Dean and Sam and my father.

"Cas, you need to listen to me! You're not to blame for the friggin God-angel after party, alright? Besides, we don't know when I'm supposed to kick it so we have time to work this out before then."

"What if there is nothing to work out, Dean?"

Dean shrugged. "Then I guess all the arch dicks will be up and kicking, and your dad will enjoy a homecoming long overdue."

"Are you being… sarcastic?" Castiel asked, tilting his head in just that way and Dean suddenly felt incredibly fuzzy.

"I'm trying to make light of a dark situation," he admitted, clearing his throat.

"I don't like how flippant you are being about this, Dean" Castiel snapped, swiping the light-hearted grin right off Dean's face. "This is your life!"

"Yeah, well, the reality is: the life of a hunter is usually pretty damn short," Dean retorted, "I'm lucky I survived this long." He would have laughed, but Castiel was frowning now. "Come on, Cas! We both know I'm gonna do what I can to fight for my own survival, but if the cards aren't in my favour, I've gotta fold 'em."

"You would choose to give up?"

"I would choose to go down fighting," Dean amended.

"As your guardian, that is up to me and not you."

"What?" Dean stumbled a little, hating that Castiel chose Jimmy's vessel specifically so that his emotions could not be magic markered across his face. "What do you plan to do, huh? You gonna tear up the book, maybe cross ethical boundaries yet again? Come on, spill or I'll download your thoughts myself!"

Castiel tightened his shoulders and met Dean's eyes with his own, holding them as he spoke without an ounce of hesitation. "I will sever the connection between us."

Dean's heart plunged. "Sever… how?"

"Those are unnecessary details, Dean."

"Unnecessary like… you're gonna put that blade you keep hidden inside your coat right through your chest?"

Castiel didn't even blink. "Yes."

"No," Dean shouted in reaction. "Screw that, Cas! You're not martyring yourself for me, understand?"

"You don't have the will to stop me," Castiel said impassively.

"I will kick your ass," Dean growled. A turbine of emotions rotated in his chest—anger, pain, fear, desperation.

"I've made my decision."

Dean nodded. "And I've made mine." He rushed at the stoic angel, thrusting his fist hard into his cheek. He was surprised by the impact of the punch. Usually, the angel barely budged, but this time, Castiel stumbled, gripping around his jaw. "Apparently, I really can kick your ass," Dean rasped, holding his fists up.

Castiel faced him, eyes delivering their own punch right to the gut, winding him. "Cas?"

The tormented angel raised his hand, throwing Dean off his feet. "This is the right decision," he said.

"You don't think that," Dean shouted as Castiel turned his back. "In fact you know it's the wrong one, just like you knew I was making the wrong one when you kicked my ass! Cas, stop!" He struggled to his feet. "Cas!"

"This will save your life, Dean," Castiel spoke to the ground.

"Self-sacrifice always ends badly! I have lost a lot of people because they decided to take a friggin bullet for me! I'm not losing you, too!"

Castiel's shoulders slumped. "Dean, this is reasonable."

"That's crap," Dean shot, striding forward to pull the angel around to face him. "You know what's reasonable? You not being Joan of friggin Arc about this! Reasonable is you sticking around to help instead of abandoning me and Sam to figure this out on our own!"

"I wasn't… abandoning you and Sam," Castiel muttered. "I'm just trying to do the right thing and possibly redeem myself to you and your brother."

Dean nodded and squeezed the angel's shoulder. "Then stick around," he said in a warmer tone. "Please… just… don't leave."

"I'm sorry…"

Dean embraced around Castiel, and gripped the back of his overcoat. It took him all his strength not to release the waterworks even though he shook on the inside as though he had just overcome an earthquake that had begun in the center of his heart and was working its way outward. With a heavy sigh, he let go of the angel, raked a hand over his hair, and managed to joke.

"If you were havin cold feet about you know… us, all you had to do was say."

Castiel narrowed his gaze, confusion now etched into his features. The sight was remarkably reassuring. "Cold… feet?"

"We'll discuss your commitment issues later; right now, we've got an ass hat hunter back at Bobby's that needs to be dealt with."

The angel relaxed. "Of course. And Dean… we shall discuss your drinking issues as well."

Dean groaned. "I'm working on it."

Castiel returned them to the bedroom where the bottle of whiskey remained on the floor. He scooped it up and vanished, causing Dean to call out. The angel materialized in front of Dean with a frown carved deep into his jaw marked with peach fuzz. "Your brother is up and Balthazar has just arrived."

"They can wait two minutes," Dean said, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. "Right now, I have a request."

"What sort of request?"

"I want to remember everything that happened, last night," he said, refusing to let even a breath of air fall after Castiel's enquiry.

"I did not mind wipe you, Dean," the angel insisted, gazing down at him. "A connection such as the one last night was not meant for humans to endure. You survived, but your brain was unable to comprehend such an experience and so chose to block it out."

Dean collapsed back, draping an arm over his face. "So, that's gonna happen every time…"

"That was the last time, Dean," Castiel cut in.

Dean sat up abruptly. "You think we can make an exception?"

"No."

"Cas… come on…"

"We have to be more careful. Please understand that this is for your benefit. I am protecting you."

Dean's answer was muffled behind his hand. "Friggin angels!"

"Get up, Dean. Your brother and mine are waiting for us," Castiel pressured, leaning down to grip tight around Dean's arm and heave him up off the bed. They stood gazing at each other.

He was drawn into the angel's eyes—always the same, always intense like magnets, reaching and grabbing his soul. "Do you regret it?" he heard himself ask unable to mask his anxiety.

Castiel's smile was faint, but it managed to pull Dean's heart out from the bowels of his stomach and get it beating again. "No, Dean."

"And you're sure that we can never do that again? Seriously?"

"Dean," the angel chided, "as your guardian…"

"Alright, alright, I get the picture. Let's go confront the fam, huh?"

They found Balthazar (in her female vessel) and Sam in the library, both deep in discussion about what to do with the douchenozzle locked up in the panic room. Upon sight of Castiel, Balthazar squealed with delight and ran at him, hooking her thin arms around his neck.

"So," she started, releasing Castiel to arch her eyebrows up a notch. "What happened last night? I need the very juicy, probably X-rated details?"

Dean noticed that, unlike Castiel when wearing her female vessel, Balthazar liked dressing to reveal all. This morning she wore a pair of booty short cut offs and a camisole cut so low that more than cleavage showed whenever she leaned over. Poor naïve vessel, Dean thought, keeping his eyes on the tight-lipped Castiel.

"They always sleep in," Sam said absentmindedly. "Well, Dean does, anyway."

"The very erotic noises coming from the bedroom suggested much more than just sleeping in," Balthazar murmured rife with anticipation, and slapped Castiel on the shoulder. "I'm sure Audrey gave you a run for your money, eh, Cassie?"

Sam gazed from Dean's face to Castiel's, the color suddenly draining from his. "Oh my god…"

"We shouldn't discuss such subjects right now."

"But you did, right?" Balthazar pressured. Her voice fell to a husky whisper. "Look, I know that a proper lady never tells, but honey, you were screaming his name, last night. I'm almost certain all of upstairs and probably downstairs…" and she knocked on the floor with the heel of her stiletto sandal, "heard you."

"How about you shut your trap, Balthazar," Dean snapped, but the secret was out and Sam was stunned into silence, his mouth open and his eyes popping.

She giggled and pointed at Dean with a provocative grin. "You must have some impressive moves, beefcake! Angels are not easily satisfied, are they, Cassie?"

"Please stop this," Castiel begged, staring hard at her.

Balthazar encircled the stiff angel around the shoulders, squeezing slightly. "It's alright, sweetie. Your naughty venture won't leave this house."

Dean wanted to console Castiel, but he now had Sam to contend with. "Sammy," he started to break the tense silence that had fallen between them. "Look, we've got a lot bigger fish…"

"This is pretty damn big, Dean," Sam cut in, "This is Cas! Our Cas!"

"I know…"

"This is Cas!" Sam exclaimed even louder now.

"I know, Sammy…"

"This is the same Cas that yanked you out of the pit, yanked me out of the cage—soulless, opened a gaping hole into Purgatory, kicked your ass, threw a Molotov cocktail at Michael and just… this is Cas, dude!"

Dean glared at his brother. "I know that! Would you stop already?"

"But it's Cas!"

"I know it's Cas!"

"You and Cas… last night? Really?"

Dean groaned. "Yes."

"Holy crap!"

"Are you done?" Dean demanded, eyeing Sam in order to remind him of the hunter they still had locked up downstairs.

Sam contemplated, biting down on his bottom lip before asking apprehensively but clearly curious, "How was it?"

"Jesus, Sam! Can we not go there right now? Bigger fish, man!"

Sam nodded, but the curiosity hadn't faded, however the color had come back to his features. "Right, uh…" he glanced at the two angels standing there. Sam blushed upon sight of Castiel and Dean smirked. Served his brother right for being so damn nosy! "Well… while you and Cas were… you know," And Sam gestured to the bedroom with a provocative arch of one eyebrow, "Belle and I devised a plan. She is going to teleport the hunter we have on lockdown to all his hunter buddies."

Balthazar nodded to confirm before gripping tight around Castiel's arm. "And speaking of, Cassie and I are going to pay him a little visit." She eyed Dean with a smirk, "Don't worry, Dean, your girlfriend is safe with me."

Before Dean could protest, the two angels had vanished.

This gave Dean time to confront his brother and he rounded on him. "Belle? Really?"

"She likes it, Dean. Give her a break, already. She's trying to help us and she's helping Cas."

He groaned, but stood temporarily defeated. Who else was going to have Castiel's back if not for Balthazar? "I guess if she—he's the only game in town…"

"She is."

"Then we've got no choice but to play nice… for now."

A smile crept into his brother's features.

"For now," Dean emphasized. "But, Sammy, I still don't trust that dick as far as I can throw him, and neither should you."

Sam nodded, but Dean knew this would not be the end of the debate.

Castiel and Balthazar emerged with their prisoner and all five were teleported to the hunters' convention in Helena in a spiral of wind and light.

The landing was abrupt and the only reason Dean wasn't on the ground was because Castiel was holding him up, gripping tight around his one arm in order to steady him. "Are you…" the angel started, but Dean didn't let him finish.

"What the hell!"

Surrounding all five of them were at least fifty hunters. One of the hunters, standing up front, face serious yet murderous, was Bobby. The killer they had brought with them was laughing maniacally. They were standing in what Dean could only assume was an abandoned airplane hangar.

"So here you all are," Dean quipped with a smirk of derision, "Think there's enough of us to play Red Rover?" He winked at Bobby before adding, "Love the whole family reunion you guys have got goin on here by the way… not creepy at all."

Two of the hunters on Bobby's right looked at him. "Is he always this way?"

Dean cut in, "Damn right I am! So, we must've missed the newsletter, making it okay for hunters to kill humans in order to frame the innocent!"

Several hunters shuffled uncomfortably, but most remained rigid. "If humans are being killed, it's because we allow demons to wander around freely," howled one hunter, a man in his early twenties if that. He stood with determined eyes and shaggy white blond hair.

"Actually, humans are bein killed because jerk-offs like this one…" and Dean grabbed Drake's collar and thrust him forward, "think it's okay to kill whomever they want!"

"Hunters don't protect demons, Sam," shouted a voice from behind Bobby's shoulder.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Rebecca, is that you? I figured Bobby would have told you by now, that I'm Dean and the big foot next to me is Sam."

Dean didn't have to look to know that his brother was scowling.

"Hunters don't protect demons, Dean," Rebecca snapped, emphasizing each word and putting a point on his name. "Therefore, you and your brother Sam are no longer hunters." She nudged Bobby's shoulder. "Right, Bobby?"

"She's right, Dean," Bobby muttered.

"What are you gonna do, huh? You gonna go all Sopranos on our asses?"

Several of the hunters inched forward, eyes trained on Dean. "Balthazar, get Sam out of here," Dean demanded, pulling the Colt off his belt. Drake was laughing harder now, and before Dean could ready himself, someone attacked from behind.

"Dean!" Castiel's voice was a combination of concern and protection.

Sam let out a howl of protest as Balthazar easily whisked him away.

Dean was fighting with all the energy he had, trying to aim the Colt at the killer who was now advancing on him. He thrust an elbow into the hunter behind him, ducked, aimed and shot Drake right through the leg. A cry of agony escaped him as he collapsed, and Dean found himself fighting off several more hunters. The gun was wrestled out of his grip and he was shoved down to his knees on the hard pavement. Castiel had his arm extended, but before he could release a surge of energy that would put everyone out, including Bobby, he let out a gasp and was dragged up into a black hole of light.

"Cas!" Dean cried after the angel.

On the wall opposite Dean, he caught sight of Rebecca standing there, bloody hand pressed to the sigil she had drawn, one he remembered using on other angels as well as Castiel in previous fights.

"Bitch," he hissed across to her.

She took her hand off the wall, gazing over at Bobby who was now refusing to even look at Dean. "Apparently Bobby isn't the biggest fan of angels. He taught me a few tricks."

"Looks like Bobby has a yen for you. He doesn't usually betray his family unless the sex is good." Dean shot a glare at the shamed hunter. "You can do better, man."

Rebecca scowled. "You have a big mouth, Dean for someone who's about to be tried as a traitor. You're not getting out of here anytime soon."

"You're a pathetic excuse for a hunter you know that?" he snarled, struggling against the ropes that were now being tied around his wrists.

She approached him, her heels clicking and echoing around the hangar. Once she was standing right in front of him, she backhanded him just hard enough to make him wince. "Sam is going to join you as soon as we find him. And the two angels? Well, let's just say we have plans for them as well."

Dean scanned the crowd and paused on a glowing figure that had not been glowing until right now. Within the crowd, maybe a couple feet from that glowing figure was another. "What the hell?"

A familiar humming travelled on vibrating waves throughout the hangar. He recognized it as the language of the angels—Enochian.

Castiel and Balthazar must die.

We will eliminate the infinite soul first then we will kill the angels.

The worst has already happened, Remiel. Did you not feel Heaven's very foundations quaking?

I felt It, Sansa. We must be quick if we want to claim the energy before it can be distributed.

What about… our father? Do you believe the rumours to be true?

No. You saw what happened with the apocalypse. No. Our father is gone for good.

Dean eyed Drake who now held the Colt, pointing it in his face. He should have shot the asshole in the head. If he had the colt, he would have.

Rebecca watched as did Bobby, but Dean could see the intense concern in the older hunter's eyes. He wanted to help, but he had to hold steady or risk blowing whatever plan he had in motion.

Dean was breathing heavily, staring down the barrel of the gun he had used to annihilate so many demons and monsters. Ironically, tonight, he would be killed with it, possibly a bullet right to the head. "See you in Hell you sonofabitch!" he hissed, and shut his eyes. He thought about Cas one more time, and what he would say to the angel if he ever got the chance. He thought about his brother—little Sammy—his best friend and possible soul mate. It was up for debate but they had been through too much to ever be just brothers. Brothers were generic. There was necessity, obligation, and chains attached to 'brothers', but Dean would die for his Sammy. It wasn't chains that forced Dean to do whatever it took to protect his brother, it wasn't even the constant voice of his father in his head; it was love. He loved Sam. Sam was his past, present and future. There was just no going on without him.

A voice summoned him, a voice that compelled his eyes to open. "Dean?"

"Sammy?" Sam's expression echoed what Dean was thinking. Neither of the brothers knew how Dean had escaped the hunter's circle. "Balthazar?" he questioned, in hopes that he had been rescued by an angel. Both Balthazar and Sam shook their heads together. One look at his surroundings informed Dean that he was standing in Singer Salvage Yard. It wasn't until Sam rushed to him that he realized his wrists were still bound. "Someone's gotta tell me what just happened? And where the hell is Cas?" Dean moved his arms as the ropes were loosened.

"Honestly, dude, you just appeared here."

"Like how?" Dean asked, watching his brother toss the rope aside.

"Like an angel without the…" he tried to mimic the sound of an angel's wings, but the attempt was feeble enough to make Dean laugh in spite of the situation he was now facing.

"Dead on, man," he commented.

"Bite me," Sam retorted, stepping back from his brother.

Without a word more, he embraced hard around Sam's shoulders, squeezing so tight that his brother choked a little. "Sorry dude," he apologized, pulling back to grip Sam's arm. "Hunter hospitality sucks."

"No kiddin! They tied you up!"

"They did more than that. I managed to get a shot into that son of a bitch's leg, but Bobby's new girlfriend and her cronies were about to make mincemeat out of me."

Sam scowled. "Why was Bobby just standing there, Dean?"

Dean lifted his eyes to his brother's. "He had to. He couldn't exactly take on that many hunters on his own!"

"You sure it wasn't because of Becks?" Sam asked through gritted teeth.

"Naw, man. Bobby's smarter than that. Obviously he had a plan, though I think I put a kink in it when I kinda vanished without clicking my heels three times." He looked around. "But Cas got a wicked surprise. Becks learned a little Enochian and sent him packin."

"I left before this?" Balthazar asked.

"Right before," Dean replied. "He get a hold of you, tell you what's what, yet?"

"No, not yet. I haven't heard a peep from Cassie since I took Sam on a little joy ride."

Dean glanced upward. "Hey Cas! Come down here a sec!" There was no response to this which provoked Dean to call again, eventually accessing the tether.

Cas! What's the hold up? Heaven ain't that big!

Silence followed this travelling thought until…

Heaven is that big, Dean

Dean turned, knowing that Castiel would soon be standing in that exact spot. The familiar flap of wings caused Dean's heart to soar. Castiel was okay. With a teasing smirk readied on his face, he greeted the angel. They were nearly nose to nose—a deliberate move on Dean's part.

"Hello Dean," the angel greeted as nonchalant as usual.

"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted back.

The angel simply stood there, staring at Dean with those eyes. "To hell with this!" he muttered and grabbed him in a tight, back breaking hug.

Castiel eventually relaxed and returned the hug.

"Something funny happened on the way to the forum, Cassie," Balthazar announced, giving everyone, even Dean a start. "It seems that your boy toy got a little too much lovin last night, and now… well, let's just say there have been some side effects."

Castiel stepped back from Dean to regard him. "Please ignore her," he mumbled.

"Gladly," Dean agreed. "But he- she's not wrong. Something's obviously goin haywire somewhere, Cas. I'm seein strange things, hearin the thoughts of other angels, and… just before you got here, I was in Helena about to be put to death. I closed my eyes for maybe a second and now I'm here. I haven't sprouted fangs, but it's still early, yet. What's going on?"

Castiel pressed a hand to the hunter's chest. "I don't know, Dean, but I will do what I can to find out."

"Technically, the whole being able to teleport thing saved my fricken life so no harm done, Cas, but it's weird, right? Am I a freak now? Is this like Sammy's demon blood? Will I start gettin visions?"

Castiel moved in closer, pressing a finger to Dean's lips in order to silence him; barely breathing from the proximity, Dean waited as the angel examined the pulse of his heart. He was listening for something that Dean would not be able to hear as a human.

"What is it?" he asked beneath the warm finger.

Castiel removed it. "Nothing," he admitted with a brief shrug. "Your infinite soul is still… infinite and you are… healthy."

"So what? I just gained super speed or somethin? Come on, something is obviously up."

Castiel nodded. "I will look into it, but you are alright for the time being." He sighed in relief.

Sam looked from Dean to Castiel, trying to put two and two together and failing. "Should we be concerned about this whole… infinite soul thing?"

Castiel's reply was sullen as he gazed at the young hunter. "It is quite the burden to bear, Sam."

"I'm bearin' it fine," Dean snapped, looking from his brother's face to the angel's. With his eyes still on him, he accessed the tether:

Don't tell Sam.

Castiel looked up, meeting Dean's now desperate expression.

Please Cas… don't tell him.

With an obedient nod, the angel vanished.

Balthazar scowled at Dean. "You'd think sex would've lightened you both up. Geez!" The angel nudged Sam, winked at him once then was gone, too.

Sam gazed at his brother, but did not push the subject of his soul any further. They were about to enter Bobby's when the familiar first notes of Smoke on the Water emanated from Dean's pocket. He answered to the low gravelly voice of Bobby.

"You and Sam need to get the hell outta dodge, ya hear me? Hunters are a comin, and they're burnin as they go!"

"Jesus, Bobby, why don't you just get the hell out of there?"

"Because I have a plan, you idjit," he remarked. "One you nearly ruined when you and your angel buddies stopped in for a visit. Hunting is my life, Dean, and it is my job to find the evil sonsofbitches behind these killings and expose them all."

"You understand that you're with those sons of bitches, right? If they expose you first, you're done!"

Bobby groaned. "That's a chance I'm willin to take. Now get outta my house and try to keep your asses outta trouble!"

"Be safe, man. You're in dangerous territory."

"I'll call ya both when I can."

The line went dead and Dean pocketed his phone. Sam stood there staring at him, awaiting news. "Well?" he pressed.

"The lockdown has been lifted. It's time to hit the road, Sammy," Dean announced. They put Bobby's house in the order they had found it, locked the doors, placed salt in the windows and outside the doors before climbing into the Impala and taking off down the long stretch of highway awaiting them. "Just like old times, eh, Sam?" Dean remarked as the glow of the dying sun struck the dash.

"Yep, except it's us against God knows how many hunters gone rogue."

"Good times," Dean added with a grin.

On the outskirts of South Dakota, Dean pulled the car to the shoulder, parked her and turned to face Sam. "Where to?" he asked, anxious about the road trip.

"We're still hunters, so… I'll just do a quick search to see if anything's goin on elsewhere on the map," Sam suggested. He climbed out of the car to stretch his legs but just as Dean was about to join him, he paused, realizing that in a few seconds he wouldn't be alone.

"Cas," he acknowledged a fraction of a second before the angel arrived.

He looked over at Dean. "Hello Dean," he greeted in his usual dulcet tone.

"Why the sudden house call?" Dean asked.

"This might sound strange to you. I don't understand it myself," Castiel murmured, compelling Dean to look over at him.

"I'm big on strange, Cas, remember? What is it?"

The angel gripped his chest where Jimmy's heart resided. "I needed to see you… again."

A flush of heat overwhelmed Dean's neck and face, coming up like a geyser from his chest. "Oh…" it was all he could say at the moment.

They stared at each other, both unflinching, both attempting to understand the reason for this. "You could stay," Dean heard himself suggest. "I'm sure Sam wouldn't mind…"

"I can't. There is still work to be done," he gestured towards Heaven with a jerk of his head, "up there."

Dean nodded in understanding. "Keep your feathery ass outta trouble, Cas."

The angel smiled. "Of course, Dean."

The light emanating from Cas was incredible, and just for a moment, Dean swore he could see the outline of the angel's wings. "Dean, what is it?"

He eased back, pressing a hand to his chest where beneath, the human heart raced supernaturally. "Nothing," he was finally able to respond.

The look in Castiel's eyes was one of genuine relief. "I must go now. But I will come to you when I have any information regarding your recently attained abilities."

Dean nodded. "Okay…"

"And Dean… for reasons I cannot yet comprehend… for certainly you are but a thought away… I will miss you." With that, the angel vanished.

The door to the passenger's side opened with a creak, inviting Sam to eventually join Dean. He shuffled a little in his seat. "So…" he stammered then looked over at Dean apprehensively.

"So… what?" Dean replied, removing his hand from his chest.

"So, how was it?"

"You're disturbed," Dean muttered, starting the engine. "You find any jobs?"

Sam scowled. "First thing's first—how was it?"

"We're not havin a slumber party, man! And this feels way too "chick flicky" for me!"

"I could punch ya and snort if you want," Sam teased, "You could even break into song like they do on Grease!"

"You're a freakin nerd, dude! You don't seriously watch musicals?"

"It was late. I was bored and it just happened to be on."

"Porn, man! That is when you watch porn not girly musicals!" Dean was laughing now.

"You're not gonna tell me, are you?" Sam muttered.

"No," Dean replied, fighting back a smirk.

"Why?" Sam whined.

"Because, it's Cas."