He crouched in the brightly colored light, the blues and reds hitting his trench coat unevenly, bathing his small figure in fragments. From this vantage point, Castiel could look straight up the nave, past the crossing and into the altar. As taxing it was on his grace, he remained invisible as he stood on the stone outcropping that framed the center of the rose window.

The brochure he had read and returned had said that the figure of Jesus Christ was life size. The angel furrowed his brow as he glanced behind him at the figure depicted in stained glass – he certainly human-sized. But he was arguing over semantics, as Sam had kindly explained to him just a day ago when he had been asking Dean why he wasn't being more specific about how a victim had been gutted. Reaching out to take support from the stone, he smiled at the memory.

"Bad way to go, cut stem to stern and still alive when…yeeesh!" Dean shuddered at the autopsy photograph in his hands, not wanting to imagine what happened next. Castiel had leaned down, suddenly level with Dean's face, and said owner of said face squawked and said something about personal space. The angel had caught Sam smirking while typing into his laptop.

"Dean, are you sure?" He asked quietly, looking at the photograph himself, still held in his charge's hands.

"Sure? Of course I'm sure, how is that a good way to go?" Dean glanced directly to his left, where the angel still leaned over his shoulder. He must've glared slightly because said celestial being hastily stood, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.

"No, I meant to say are you sure about the directionality of the slice? You said 'stem to stern', what if it was stern to stem?" He was making a valiant effort at using more human language and phrasing. At least he thought he was.

"Cass!? What? No, even if that did matter, which it doesn't – back me up Sammy!" Dean tossed the picture on the old and scratched table as he glared across the shabby motel's table and the younger brother dutifully scrambled.

"Cass, Dean's right. The direction doesn't matter, whoever…or whatever this is, is just after the organs. You're getting bogged down in semantics." He tried to go for the sympathetic look, but Cass' response was obviously not what was expected of him.

"But if it was some sort of ritual, there would likely be a reason to cut-" he wasn't about to let this go. Heaven was defined by tradition, by rules. Surely that applied here as well.

"Damnit!" Dean stood up suddenly, shoving back the chair and nearly Cass, too. "Cass!" Dean rounded on him, "top to bottom, or the other way, it doesn't matter! Trust us on this, we know what we're doing!"

The yelling made Castiel pause. He had clearly stepped over a boundary, although where and when he could not tell. It suddenly felt as if he had offended a superior, not questioned a friend. The atmosphere was charged and it was extremely uncomfortable, as Dean began to realize he had snapped and Sam stopped typing, just watching the interaction. The tension made even that a bit unbearable.

"Well…I'm hungry, so I'm going to take the Impala and grab food. You guys hungry?" Sam smoothly rose, pulling his jacket from the back of his chair in the same motion.

"No. But thank you, Sam." Castiel didn't take his eyes off of the older Winchester, whose shoulders had dropped, but was still looking something more than confrontational.

"…Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

"Yeah," he threw himself back into the chair, facing away from the angel and looking at the window. "Some pie."

"Gotcha." As Sam strode to the door he paused, looking at the two of them, feeling that something was being left unsaid and trying to fill the void. "Pumpkin? Does it matter?"

Before Dean could open his mouth, the angel stepped forward.

"This is not a matter of semantics, Sam. Cherry pie." It was a firm order, as if he were back in his garrison of old. He had not meant to be funny, but Sam's smile split his face and Dean doubled over, trying not to be loud, but ended up laughing so much he cried. Standing, he waved at Sam who shut the door, still chuckling, and made his way to the couch in front of the TV.

"C'mere, Cass." The fight-worn human lounged, and gestured to the other half of the couch with his head. The angel obeyed, inwardly pleased that somehow he had fixed things. Gingerly sitting, he heard his charge scoff behind him, and his back stiffened as he clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Relax, s'ok."

They sat together on that oddly smelling furniture, the balance restored. Dean began to explain the medical show he found a rerun of, muttering that even a half-pint candy-addicted archangel couldn't ruin this for him.

"Aw, but I tried so hard!" The voice jolted Castiel out of his memories and he lost his footing on the stone, suddenly free falling from the stained glass perch. He felt two arms wrap around him and the sensation of being transported, then the less pleasant sensation of falling into shrubbery. The tangle of vessel and plant limbs was quickly solved with the trickster's snap of the fingers and then they were standing in a corner of one of the cathedral's gardens.

"Gabriel." He felt no need to greet the interloper further.

"Owlet! You ok, buddy? I really scared the bejesus outta you back there!" The trickster jabbed a thumb over his shoulder back towards the holy building.

"You simply startled me. I am quite well."

"Think we startled the hell out of some squirrels, too." Gabriel looked up into the trees, smirking at the angered chatter he heard.

"Brother, is this another attempt at dissuading me?" Castiel was too tired to listen to this again. He knew the archangel meant well…at least he thought he knew, but this was his mission. He had to see it through, no matter the cost. He was sure it would make things right.

"Noooope. Tried that in Paris, didn't work out too well. Clearly." He ran his hand through his hair, frustrated at what was before him. The young angel would be graceless if he kept this up, and Gabriel would be lying if he said he didn't care.

"Then why? Have you heard something? Has something happened in Heaven?" He stepped closer to Gabriel, who held up his hands, backing away.

"Woah, woah. Settle down there. No, I'm not here to get you to stop, I'm not here cause I tuned into the old Celestial-FM and heard some juicy gossip. I'm here just to…" he looked upwards, hoping the right words would fall into his mind. "…I'm here just to make sure you're ok!"

Two blue eyes instantly took on suspicion and the younger angel shook his head. Reaching into his trench pocket, he pulled out his cell phone, intent on calling his charge. As he opened it the entire device dissolved into dust.

"Gabriel!" Cass glared up at his brother, whose face was irritatingly neutral on the subject. "Dean paid for that…"

"Aw, well he can get his girlfriend another one. And flip phones? What is this, the nineties?" He strolled down the stone path and took a left through a wooden arbor into a larger garden. He was out of sight when Castiel parsed out the words, who scowled at the empty space the archangel had occupied. The tired angel felt anger bristle inside and he found energy he didn't know he had as he quickly stalked after the shorter man.

"Dean doesn't have a girlfriend, Gabriel. I'd know." He tried not to say the words so bitingly, but they emerged that way regardless. The angel in question came to an abrupt halt from his circling of the fountain in the middle of the garden. He poked his head around the fountain, frowning at him.

"Are they not teaching you anything down here? That went straight over your head, didn't it?" He continued around, his hand trailing in the water of the fountain. "Forget it, owlet. Just, it amazes me that you're still such a soldier after spending time down here. Sure, when I ran off and enjoyed what the mortal plain has to offer, a few things surprised me, but the learning curve is steep. Still, you haven't learned to play." With a flick of his wrist, the water from the fountain leapt upwards, far more than earthly physics should allow.

Castiel rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation and moved forward to stop the antics.

"They are teaching me plenty. Such as not attracting attention or trouble to oneself." He growled out, and reached forward with his hand, stopping the water's trajectory. Even that left him gasping slightly – the use of the grace burning in a painful way.

The playful look drained from Gabriel's eyes and was replaced with genuine concern. He appeared in front of Cass and held him by the shoulders as the younger angel tried to regain composure. He stood straight eventually, trying to settle what remained of his grace inside of him. Stepping away, the trickster's cool returned, acting as if he hadn't had a moment of older-brother-panic. Castiel thought it was rather predictable as Gabriel changed the subject entirely. To be perfectly honest, he had seen Dean do it hundreds of times with Sam. At least Gabriel was a bit more subtle.

"You know, they created this garden with plants that historians believed would've occupied the garden of Eden." Gabriel looked around, humming as he reached out and snapped an errant leaf off a branch. "Not too bad…very stately. Not quite Dad's reflection but…eh."

"Still peaceful for a garden in the middle of such a large city." Castiel added, sliding his hands into the pockets of his trench coat.

"Almost forget you're in New York."

The two angels stood quietly for a rare moment, listening to the fountain and wondering of things that could've been. A butterfly floated past the younger angel, and decided that the branch the shorter vessel held would be the perfect perch. Gabriel smiled at the small creature and brought the branch up closer to his face.

"So do you propose we spend the day together? Here? In these gardens?" Castiel gestured to the surrounding plants.

Gabriel hummed as he gently placed the stick into a plant for the butterfly, and turned around, his grin nearly splitting his face. Castiel regretted asking that question instantly. With the usual snap of the fingers, a pamphlet of the church appeared in Gabriel's hands.

"Owlet, as many Daddy issues as I've got, there might be a plan. Lezzgo! Onwards!" He pointed the pamphlet back in the direction of the church and spun on his heel, authoritatively leading the way.

Castiel followed, unsure if it was curiosity or just obedience to an archangel, but likely a mix of both. Before he had met the Winchesters, it would've been the sheer inability to do anything but follow orders. Now? Now he was willing to go down the rabbit hole, as Dean might say. With Gabriel, though, one had to watch their feathers. Including the birds in the gardens, it turned out.

The gardens were home to a few peacocks that strut across the green as if the church was there for their comfort and wellbeing. Never one to let such an opportunity go, Gabriel was getting a bit close to one particular peacock. Said bird was in no mood for such an intrusion and after a few imperious squeaks and squawks, started to flare its impressive feathers. To an archangel.

He stood a ways away, nearly enjoying the challenge being issued, and answered. While humans could not see angel's wings, unless said angel so desired them to, there was the thought that animals could. So, as Gabriel unfurled his many wings, narrowing his eyes at the blue-feathered creature, Castiel couldn't help but smile. At this display, the peacock got a bit upset and starting flapping its wings and generally causing a ruckus. Gabriel could not have been prouder, of course, but the guard that sat outside the church may not have agreed.

As he left his guardhouse and approached the two men, Castiel hissed at his brother in Enochian and Gabriel, as much as he enjoyed teasing feathered creatures of all kinds, realized it was time to get back on task. He abandoned the now-troubled peacock and joined Castiel, waving at the elderly guard who glared at the pair.

"Nothing to worry about here! No sir!" Castiel caught sight of Gabriel moving his fingers ever so slightly and knew he was about to do something terrible, so he locked his hand on the archangel's arm in a vice grip.

"Not here!" He whispered, grip still firm on the shorter vessel's elbow. "Now get in the church."

"Oooh, giving me all sorts of inappropriate sensations when you boss like that, Cass," Gabriel leered, waggling his eyebrows in a way that made the younger angel want to burn them off. Instead they hustled by the guard and towards the stairs that led into the right side of the nave, just before the crossing.

"Brother. Please." He didn't feel the need to implore Gabriel to stop, as that would never work, but he hoped the 'please' would at least temporarily pause his antics. He managed to get him all the way into the church walls without further incident.

"Wow. Way to kill the mood…sheesh, too much time with the Winchesters. Burning off eyebrows…is that what you three get up to in Nowheresville, America?" He finished his question looking up at the cathedral's ceiling.

"Hardly." He gritted his teeth, watching the shorter vessel walk past him, looking at the small side chapels. He followed after the archangel, whose right hand was gently brushing the stone of the wall as he passed. At this point he seriously questioned why Gabriel had the need to constantly show up and mettle in his self-assigned mission.

"Need? No, I don't." He was looking down at where his hand met the stone, then looked up at Castiel over his shoulder. "Want? Yes."

Castiel stood for a moment, in total confusion. His brother wanted to see how he was?

"Well you've arrived, checked on me and I highly doubt Father would appear with you here…" he trailed off, not initially realizing where his words were taking him. Dean would have been proud for him to finish that sentence as he had planned, but he was glad he hadn't.

"Dean's always proud of you, owlet." Gabriel turned around, and forcibly moving Castiel, looped his arm through the trench-coated arm and they began to walk back towards the rose window.

"Should I expect your company on all future church-visits?" Castiel didn't like to think he was grousing, but he was pretty sure that was the definition of it.

"Stop questioning me for one damn minute, will you?" Without meaning, Gabriel injected some archangel authority into his voice and Castiel felt his wings tense. The shorter angel pushed the pamphlet at Castiel, who took it, not particularly knowing what he was supposed to do. "Read. If it isn't too much of a problem for you."

Opening it, he perused the information silently, turning his back to Gabriel to hide the smirk he couldn't help but show. He read about how there were bronze medallions in the floor that represented pilgrimage sites, and the ones down the middle depicted human endeavors. The number seven was particularly relevant, as it was a church dedicated to St. John. This was nothing unusual, and his non-committal hum must have reflected his thoughts on the matter because archangel grace burned the pamphlet into cinders that fluttered to the ground. Before he could say something, he realized the ashes of the pamphlet had landed onto one of these bronze medallions.

"Gabriel, I wasn't-" Gabriel walked right up to him, shushed him and took his head in his hands and forced it down, to look at the medallion.

The shield had a sword crossed with two keys, and the words circling the shield read 'Winchester' above, and 'King Alfred' beneath. Before he could process that, his head was forcefully shifted to the right, to the small chapel, one that depicted a human endeavor. This particular one happened to be the military. The blues and reds in the window above the chapel were nearly too bright, and Castiel lowered his gaze to the statue of a winged man in armor, a sword in his right hand.

Before he could say anything else, he felt the all-too-familiar pull of being transported via grace. Once he felt anchored to the earth again, he opened his eyes and saw he was in the parking lot of the current motel his charge and brother were staying at. He still felt woozy, for lack of a better feeling, and his brother grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Castiel, listen to me." The archangel emerged in full force, rooting the younger angel from the roots of wings to everywhere else. "You saw that, you saw the Winchester medallion, and you saw the military chapel. I wouldn't be the first to admit that there's a plan, but you went to that cathedral for some reason you are not able to name. This cathedral had this medallion placed in front of that specific chapel, and I think you should listen to that design. Do you understand?"

"I…brother, what, I am supposed to fight with them?"

Gabriel nodded, and released Castiel, who stumbled ever so slightly. With some mild cursing, the archangel manhandled Castiel into the Imapala, which was parked nearby. The small angel was curled up in the familiar leather backseat and Gabriel sighed. He tried and he hoped that Castiel would listen. Softly closing the door, he turned himself invisible then very loudly rattled the door to the Winchester's motel room.

As he thought, Dean came tearing out of the room, gun drawn. His moose was not far behind, matching gun drawn, covering whatever space his older brother couldn't. The younger Winchester noticed something in the Impala before Dean did and alerted his brother to it.

"Dean! Shit, it's Cass!" The two holstered their weapons and rushed to the car, opening both doors. Gabriel watched from a distance as Dean gathered up Castiel in his arms, holding him tightly as he made his way back to the motel room. Sam paused once outside the room, looking into the darkness, right where Gabriel was.

"Sammy!" His brother's voice broke his concentration, and he hurried back into the room, the door locking loudly behind him.

"Take care of yourself, Owlet." With that, Gabriel disappeared.

Castiel woke because his face itched. He surmised that would be due to the sheets he was currently face down on. The rest of him slowly came into consciousness, and he must have twitched just enough to attract the brothers' attention.

"Hey Dean! Cass is awake!" And with that, Dean was up front and very much in Castiel's personal space. He was kneeling next to the bed, his eyes piercing. The angel was suddenly reminded of the brightness of the stained glass in the chapel.

"Cass, hey buddy, you ok? What happened?" His eyes were full of the concern he tried not to voice so loudly. Sitting up slowly, he tried to make any groaning as quiet as possible. Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed next to the one he was occupying, elbows on his knees, silently assessing the angel's current state.

"Dean, I am quite well, thank you." He smiled at the intense worry that was being directed at him. "Really, it is nothing to concern yourselves with. These trips were slightly more taxing than I realized."

"Look, Cass, maybe you should take it easy on the trips then, yeah? Put the mission aside for a bit?" Sam leaned forward and patted him on the knee awkwardly. Before the angel could respond, Sam stood quickly and muttered something about checking the Impala, heading out the door.

Dean stood, not saying anything, but crossing his arms and looking down at the angel. He wasn't sure if his charge was waiting for a response, apology or explanation, but something told the angel he owed him something. The older Winchester moved away to the window, watching his younger brother pack the car. Cass made his way across the room, standing beside Dean, wishing his brother had given him more than just a sign from their Father. Such as something to say, or the ability to speak at all at this point.

"Cass, I just wish you'd pick." Dean growled, not even glancing at the angel.

"Pick?"

"You're just all over, some days you're with us, some days you're somewhere else, I don't even know! What if you collapsed somewhere we couldn't help you?" He uncrossed his tense arms, gesturing a bit wildly.

"Dean, you don't have to worry. I've found my place." For a brief moment, panic flashed in Dean's eyes. Was the place he had found somewhere else entirely? Cass gave him a half smile and rested his hand right over the original mark he had left when he pulled Dean from hell.

"It's right here."

Open-mouthed and surprised, Dean didn't have a chance to say something as Sam opened the door.

"Ready to go, guys." He may have realized he interrupted something, but Castiel removed his hand and nodded at Sam. He moved past Sam towards the car and before he could smirk at Dean, Dean did the same, punching him in the shoulder before grabbing the keys dangling from one of Sam's hands.

Once they were all settled in the Impala, Dean glanced in the rear view mirror at the angel who was examining what looked like a small branch that had gotten tucked under the collar of his trench coat. Sam settled into his seat and focused his gaze outside the window. As the ignition grumbled and the car woke itself up, Cass leaned forward and balanced his elbows on the two front seats.

"Do either of you know anything about King Alfred?" Dean groaned, rolling his eyes and Sam smirked, still looking out the window. Dragging his hand down his face, the Winchester in the driver's seat sighed.

"Way too early, Cass, way too early."