Chapter 1

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. Genesis 1:1-4

In Redwood National Park

This story has many beginnings, but it does not begin at your beginning. It begins in a forest, high on top of a mountain that is lush and moist and earthy. Even this is not the beginning, but it is a fine enough place to start. It was also pleasant and calm in this moment. It was an odd moment, for the world was not calm or pleasant. A thick fog was blanketing the valley below, but by the time it would reach this place, there would be nothing left to harm. The canopy of the trees shivered in the mild breeze that flitted through it. The breeze was unwelcome and would carry the fog faster to this place. There were higher places. There were mountains that were far more removed from the devastation, but they too would be overtaken, so why prolong the inevitable.

This task could not be accomplished alone. Israfel was near. She held the body close to her and poured her grace into it. Her wings wrapped around the two of them in a kind of embrace. I looked down at the body in my arms and longed to wake it. It would be brief. I could not justify the action. It would only be for me that I did it. We said our goodbyes already. His face was peaceful, tanned golden, with sharp angles of cheek bones that spoke to the harsh life that he had lived. I brushed my fingers through his golden, brown hair and placed my forehead against his. At least he would be safe. At least he would have some sense of peace. These were the things that I told myself. After all, I could not release his soul to the chaos of Heaven without knowing that he would be safe, and I could not keep him safe on earth. At least, I could not keep him safe in his present condition. So, the decision was made.

The canopy shook again with a hiss. I would not be able to delay any longer. Israfel, it is time. I sent my thoughts to her in a moment, but she already knew. Much would change in a thousand years. What we were doing would change everything.

Gunnison Island in the Great Salt Lake

Chuck Shurley appeared on the island in an instant. In his arms he carried an angel that at first glance appeared too large for this small man to carry. However, Chuck Shurley was not all that his form displayed. And this fact alone does not begin to tell the tale that is Chuck Shurley. But sometimes beginnings are overrated.

He stooped to one knee and gently laid the angel on the barren looking earth. "This is a good place for new beginnings little angel." Chuck whispered past the sweep of blonde hair that cascaded around her pale face. Her eyes were closed and seemed to flutter as his words breezed into her ear.

He rolled her to her side and looked at the one wing that spread out majestically over her form. Its opalescent colors sparkling in the bright light of day. His eyes moved across her wing down to the joint near her shoulder blade, then they moved to the place where another opalescent cascade should have been. The gash was healed, somewhat. "Hmm, this will not do." His hand ghosted over the spot as he looked over the vast expanse of land surrounding him. He did not create from nothing. There was always something. It was always about transferring from one thing to the next. That was how it had always been, even in the beginning.

His eyes fell on the distant mass of white pelicans. "Oh, that will do. That will do, just fine, I think." He lifted his arm out toward the birds and one grand white creature with black tipped wings swooped over the distance to light down onto him. "You are a beautiful creature," he whispered. His other hand moved from the back of the angel to one of the pelican's wings. It vanished. "Do not fear, she will care for you."

He moved his hand over to the angel and pressed his fingers to the place where her wing should have been. The new wing sprang forth. It was not like the other wing, but it was not quite like the pelican's either. It was smaller and not opalescent. It was white with black tips, but nearly ¾ the size of her other wing. He smiled down at her. "It is good." He liked the lack of symmetry. It reminded him of humans-the little imperfections that kept them from being too predictable.

He leaned back to her unconscious form and whispered instructions into her ear before walking toward the mass of pelicans. She would know what to do when the time came, but for now she would just wait.

As the birds flew up around him and into the sky he snapped out of their existence. He looked back at the island through their eyes as they soared over the vast island and saw the beauty of his choice. The island lay in the glimmering body of salty water vibrant and blue in a way that seemed utterly unnatural. The true beauty though was in the shape of the island. From the heavens, it was shaped as the angel with wings spread wide on either side. One wing though stretched out larger than the other and it really was beautiful to behold and good.

Dean Dreams of Cicero

This is where it begins again. Sam stood out in the cold night gazing into the softly illuminated dining room. Cas stood just behind him, silent for the moment.

"The process will not be easy," Castiel's voice breaks the silence. "He isn't really here, but you needed to see what he has experienced since your fall into the cage."

"How long has he been like this?" Sam's question is gruff.

"Time isn't the point. It is all in his mind, but this is one of the early memories."

"It looks like a nice memory. Why would they give him a nice memory? I mean, these memories came from Hell, right."

"Mostly."

"What does that mean?" Sam turned to Castiel with a slight crease to his brow.

"It means that some of the memories are twisted versions of the ones that I had to place in his mind. I had to take his memories of me and alter them. So that he would not remember me from before the warehouse." He seemed to sink in on himself as if all of this explanation was too tiring.

"Why would they let him have this?" Sam gestures back at the house.

"What would be worse than Hell for Dean?" Castiel stares fixedly at Dean who is smiling at the young boy and woman across from him.

"Obviously, having a happy family dinner, Cas," Sam huffs out.

"No, but losing those that he loves, now that is Dean's Hell. It is the only thing that would drive him back into the abyss. The thought that anyone he loves could die, could suffer…" he trails off and stares with sorrow at Dean's make believe family.

"But, I still don't get why they would give him this."

"Dean believed that Ben was his son. He always wanted a chance at this sort of thing. They let him keep this so that they could take it away from him in a myriad of ways. I only regret giving him this memory in the first place."

"We had a year though, a year after he was on the rack…"

"Yes, I was able to put him back together and suppress the memories. It was a temporary fix. I dreamwalked him, and I did so many things to keep him from this. Your fall was too hard for him. It sent him so completely into this false world. Convincing him that he needs to leave it is not going to be easy. I will need your help." Castiel stared at Sam as he often did with Dean.

"Whoa, I'm not Dean." Sam clutched at his head.

"Sorry. I just wanted to take you to a different memory."

"Is that how you kept Dean's mind from slipping? The staring…"

"Sometimes when he seemed overly emotional this proved effective." He stared back at Sam again. "I am going to take you to another place now."

The world faded in front of Sam's face and then began to regroup into recognizable shapes. Sam took a step back in shock as he was face to face with himself. "Well, that isn't awkward or anything." The other Sam turned to Dean as they both stood at the edge of the water. Neither Dean nor the other Sam could see them. In the distance a different Castiel sunk into the water. "What is this Cas?"

"Dean has a memory of me absorbing souls from Purgatory. Leviathans. In this memory I kill, and I betray in so many ways." He steps to the side to face Dean and the other Sam. "It is odd to me that he did not see through this memory."

"Maybe it is not about what is real for Dean. Maybe it is more about what he fears the most. You not being you, or you getting hurt might fit the mold of what is Dean's personal Hell. Seeing through it might not be possible."

At that moment Dean reaches down to the water and pulls out Castiel's trenchcoat, carefully folds it, and turns to walk away. "Maybe you are right." He looks like he has doubts. He seems to consider that Dean might truly have lost faith in him. "We should see another one."

Sam nods silently and Castiel stares deeply as the world fades again and another vision emerges.

Heaven

"Balthazar, you were searching for me?" Castiel stood a few feet from the other angel waiting.

"Yes, brother. When were you going to tell me about the odd memories that you have been playing with in your little boy toy?" His casual tone did nothing to hide his annoyance.

"There is nothing to tell." Castiel turned as if to signify the end of the conversation. "Are we done?"

"You have heard that the removal of the Righteous Man and Lucifer's Vessel will cause a great disturbance in the universe, right?"

"When is the universe not disturbed?"

"True, but I certainly deserve to know when someone is walking around with images of my death on repeat."

"I assure you that no one is walking around with images of your death on repeat." Castiel stares at him steadily as he says this.

"Hmm, I am not getting into a semantics battle with you. Dean has something that concerns me in his head, and I would like to know what is going on in that department."

"If it comes to anything you will be one of the first to know." He turns again as if to signify the end of the conversation when he feels the rough hand grip his shoulder.

"I am not so useless as you seem to think. Perhaps I can help. I know that I am not Israfel, but I can help. Especially, when it concerns me." His eyes seemed to show desperation.

"The visions are not true. I do not understand why they matter to you."

"Things are changing, little brother. They are changing, big time. Not just on earth, but everywhere. Things are not so pure anymore. Borders are not so solid anymore. The first breakdown of these borders occurred when we pulled that boy up from Perdition. It began in the dreams and then it was real. Who's to say that it won't happen again?"

"So you think that I will open Purgatory and ram a sword through you?"

"I don't know. Is that what the vision says will happen?"

"More or less. It is not always the same. One time you plunged the sword into me." Castiel let out a small, frustrated breath. "The visions are only important to Dean. They should not matter to anyone else."

"Now, don't start that line with me, Castiel." Balthazar stared hard at Castiel's face. "You and I both know what has been hidden in those memories. He has been touched by Heaven. That would be you, Cassy. He has been touched by Hell. One more touch and the borders fall. Why do you think that he has all of that Purgatory business floating around in that noggin of his? Someone or something wants to make it happen. Someone is going to offer up that final touch and I hope for all of our sakes, that you have found a way to take care of this situation."

"You do not need to worry. No one will get to Dean or Sam."

"It isn't really them that I am worried about." But his words come too late. Castiel had already left.