It's A Gray World After All (Part 1)

by angelinconflict

In the series 2 finale of WRE, a safe house has been picked out for the refugees, allowing for Dean, Sam, Bobby, Cas and Belle to get ready for the big showdown against the hunters; however, a new threat comes unexpectedly, forcing Dean to choose between losing his infinite soul and losing the love of his life.

WRE S2 P9 It's a Gray World After All

Dean awoke with a jolt in a room he did not recognize. It harboured a rather renaissance design with thick crushed velvet drapes on the window and a large four-poster bed—all the poles made of walnut with ornate designs carved into each. Above him were elaborate wine red hangings draped from a frame that was suspended to the ceiling. He hadn't seen anything like it and was momentarily baffled by it.

Then it came back to him. The reason he was here instead of up and alert and on the hunt for the rogue hunters.

Castiel.

It was that simple and yet that complicated. He crushed his hands to his face and groaned as he tried to dredge up even a drop of memory from last night, but he came up empty—again. Again, he could not remember having been intimate with the angel. And yet… when he thought about it, all his muscles immediately relaxed. His body remembered; his mind didn't.

A knock on the door alerted him and he straightened. "Dean?" he heard Sam call from the other side.

"Yeah," he replied, climbing out of the bed to start dressing.

"Is uh…" he stammered and cleared his throat, "Cas… with you?"

"No," Dean answered gruffly. No, the angel wasn't with him. And despite making a solid promise not to leave, she still did, and he woke up alone—again.

"But she was... with you?"

Dean glared at the door and zipped up his jeans. "Where exactly are you taking this line of questioning, Sam? Are you looking for a play-by-play or what?"

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, Dean," Sam replied, his voice muffled by the door.

Dean pulled his shirt over his head, straightened it with both hands and walked to the door to yank it open. Sam looked momentarily startled and shifted from one foot to the other unsure where to put his hands. Eventually, he crossed his arms, stopped shifting and held Dean's gaze a little more forcefully. "You ever think about the consequences of pursuing this kind of relationship?"

Dean rolled his eyes and pushed past him with a grunt of annoyance. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, dude."

"I'm not jealous, Dean," Sam said, tailing Dean down the hall, through an archway and into a cavernous area with an oval rug, two x-shaped folding chairs, an oblong wooden table and a glass cabinet against the wall. "I guess she liked to collect," Sam remarked, having abandoned his argument upon sight of the antique furniture and items set up in rows inside the cabinet.

"It's time for a garage sale," Dean said, glancing from a Picasso painting to a Van Gogh on the opposite side. "Jesus! Honestly, I don't wanna know what she had to do to get her hands on all this stuff."

Sam faced him and nodded slightly. "Look um…"

"Yeah, yeah, you're not jealous. But seriously, actions speak louder than words, Sammy."

"I'm not jealous. I'm concerned."

"Don't be," Dean said and looked up at the chandelier he hadn't noticed until right now. "I'm fine. When am I not, huh?"

"You don't think teleporting and hearing angel voices is a little concerning?"

Dean snorted. "I think makin merry with an angel is probably gonna have some side effects. But I've got it covered, alright? Cas is on it, but I'm sure it's not that big a deal. And hell, if it is? We'll just… you know…"

"Stop… making merry?" Sam finished for him.

Dean swallowed hard. "Yeah… yes."

Sam narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "That's hardly convincing."

"Maybe…"

"If your life is in danger…"

"My life is always in danger, man! When is my head not on the chopping block, huh? We've been to Heaven and Hell and somehow we've managed to bounce back! This ain't the first time and it certainly won't be the last, but you know what? This is the first time I've been… really, really happy." Sam's face fell to this confession. Dean had never admitted to being truly happy before. "So if I die tomorrow or tonight or two hours from now, because being with an angel just happened to be the death of me, I don't give a damn! Because it was good, Sammy! Scratch that, it wasn't good—it was perfect." He was smiling now. "Rogue hunters? Monsters taking refuge here? Whatever, man! Life just ain't that bad, anymore."

Life would be better if he could remember what the hell happened, last night as well as the first night, but as much as he hated being in the dark, he knew Cas had nothing to do with it. He knew that the angel loved him. Despite his many flaws, his mistakes, his broken down form, his angel still loved him. And this was why he could get up in the morning. This was why he could get dressed and hold his head up and feel something other than worthless.

Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. I love you, Dean Winchester.

These were the words he carried with him everywhere, into every situation, on every hunt. These words kept him alive.

Sam dropped his head, muttering, "Look, man, you just need to watch yourself, alright?" He lifted his gaze to Dean's, "I know you don't care about what happens to you, but what about… Cas? What if this relationship poses a danger to her as well as you?"

Dean didn't even have to think about it to know what his next move would be. "Nothing's gonna happen, Sam," he growled.

"Humour me, man. What would you do?"

Dean bit the inside of his cheek. "I'd end it."

Those had suddenly become the worst words in the English language. He would end it. To save the angel's life, he would end their relationship. Even the idea made his stomach churn and bubble. What would he do without Cas? Would ending things snap the tether? Would he no longer feel as whole and emotionally complete as he does now? A flap of wings indicated that Cas had arrived, and without a beat in between, he rounded on the unsuspecting angel to throw his arms around the neck of the male vessel.

"Hey, Cas," Sam greeted, arms loosely crossed.

"Hello Sam," Cas said in his usually low and grated tone. "Hello Dean," the angel added, wrapping his arms tight around the hunter. "Are you… okay?"

"I'm fine," Dean croaked on his shoulder and pulled back still gripping Cas' arms.

Cas tilted his head. "Forgive me for saying this, but… I don't believe you."

Dean surprised himself by laughing. What was he thinking trying to fool an angel? Before he could explain himself, though, Sam intervened.

"We need to talk, Cas."

"Of course, Sam," Cas murmured, but his striking blue eyes were still holding Dean's solemn green ones, "What about?"

"Us," Dean spat bitterly, angrily, desperate to keep holding on. "It's regarding us and how Sam thinks I'm gonna snuff it if I don't break it off with you."

Cas looked from Dean's rigid expression to Sam's concerned one before sighing. "I suppose you haven't told him," he spoke solemnly.

"Told me what?" Sam coughed, glaring at Dean now. "Told me what, Cas?"

"Don't," Dean demanded the angel, but his tone was gentle. "First off, your angel buddies aren't exactly Cas friendly! They probably just made all that crap up to screw with your head."

"Dean…"

"I'm not buyin it, and neither should you!"

"Buying what?" Sam shouted.

Cas pressed his hands to the hunter's face before pulling away to approach Sam. "Your brother is the infinite soul which means that… he is the key to the return of our father. He will come home and all my brothers that have died will be reborn."

"Oh my god," Sam gasped, eyes wide. "So this whole… thing… this relationship between the two of you was… planned? Like our parents?"

"I guess that could be a rather accurate description," Cas admitted.

Dean stormed over to them. "Look, angels lie. We've seen it firsthand," he started then stopped, realizing where his words were heading. Dark road ahead! He was about to stammer out an apology when a warm hand embraced around his and squeezed lightly. "Look at Uriel," he managed to recover, "he lied to help King Douche out of his freakin cage!"

"I don't understand what you mean by the infinite soul bringing God and all his angels back," Sam said softly. "What does that have to do with Dean?"

"Cas," Dean pleaded again, but his plea didn't stop the angel from resuming.

"Dean has to die, Sam. Once he dies, his infinite energy will spread and revive the angels once lost, and God will return home where he belongs."

Sam looked from Cas to Dean then back again. "Do you think the angels are lying?" he asked in a raspy whisper.

"No," the angel replied.

"So you believe that Dean will die, and you're still with him?"

"I know what this sounds like, Sam, but I can assure you…"

"The only way you can assure me that you're not using my brother to bring back your family is by severing the connection and letting him go!" Sam interrupted, anger seeping into his voice and his expression.

"What the hell is wrong with you, man?" Dean snapped, trying to cling tight to a hand that was trying to let go. "You really think…"

"Dean, stop," Cas pleaded now.

"Cas, we're not discussing this, again!" Dean stormed with fiery determination, eyes now rooted on the stiff form of his brother. "You've got it wrong! I'm the one who won't let go! Me! Not Cas!"

"So you're perfectly fine with being killed for a family reunion?" Sam fired, anger scorching his words and drawing his eyebrows close together.

"Look, I have two options: I either live miserable or I die happy? I've white knuckled it most of my life. I don't wanna live like that, anymore! I finally have something good and I'm not giving it up just so I can live some mediocre life! Like Hell!"

"What about me, Dean?"

"Jesus," Dean hissed between his teeth, "What about you?"

"I have a choice, too! I either do whatever I can to save you or I do nothing and lose you!" His eyes fell on Cas now, "If you love him like you claim to, you'll convince him to let go. We both know you can do it, Cas! We both know that when I can't get through to him, you can! So do it! Be his guardian and save him from himself the way you're supposed to!"

With one last icy glare in Dean's direction, Sam left the room, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood.

"Sam," Dean yelled after him, catching Cas' arm in a tight grip before turning to face him. "I know what you're thinking, and kudos for masking it in Enochian, but I can understand every freakin word! I'll go talk to Sam, possibly give him a much deserved beat-down for bein a giant pain in my ass, but you need to understand something: This isn't a suicide mission, alright? You're not failing me by being too weak to convince me to break it off! Bottom line is, I need you. You're what's keeping my head above water and I can't lose you. It's really that simple."

Cas attempted a smile but it was slightly lopsided and weak at the corners. "I would rather save you, Dean."

Dean closed the distance between them muttering a "damnit!" before gripping the lapels of the angel's coat and hauling him forward into a kiss. The lights flickered in warning, but Dean ignored it. Kissing an angel was not a sexual experience; it was a spiritual one. And it was addictive. He did not feel the lips of the vessel but the warmth of the angel, the spark belonging to a wavelength of celestial intent. He felt as though he must be glowing. The flickering of the lights was soon followed by a loud explosion and the tinkling of glass as the chandelier came hurtling down.

"Dean!" Sam had also heard the explosion and could only think of the worst possible scenario that somehow included a dead older brother, all because he would not give up the angel. He rounded the corner and stopped. He was forced to look away because the light that had flooded the cavernous room was blinding. "Dean!" He hollered a second time.

"He's okay," a familiar voice spoke from behind his shoulder.

Sam jerked in response, but only acknowledged Balthazar with a slight head nod. His eyes, however, remained rooted on the blinding sight before him. And even though he had to squint in order to protect his eyes, he could not tear himself away. There was something drawing him forward, a strong force that was just too powerful to resist. He felt Balthazar's hand on his shoulder and reached out, allowing the light to engulf his arm up to his elbow. He gasped to the images that resulted, crashing down on him like strong cresting waves—his greatest hits, those he remembered from his time in Heaven, lighting fireworks with Dean and never feeling so carefree. Lying next to the love of his life, Jessica and thinking that life could not be more perfect. Meeting his mother for the first time when they had been blasted to the past—the beauty he never saw until that moment. Was this what it felt like to be truly happy? He caught his breath and stepped out of the embracing light just as it began to fade, returning to its rightful owners. Castiel and his brother were parting after what must have been an intense kiss. Dean was breathless and slightly unstable on his feet. The angel was smiling.

"I should go, Dean." He was gazing towards the ceiling, towards Heaven. He was being called.

"Cas," Dean started, bringing Castiel's eyes back to him. "You need to keep me in the loop, alright? I don't care how you do it, but you need to do it."

Castiel nodded slowly. "Of course."

"Promise me," Dean pressured, glaring the angel down now, determination acting as flames in his eyes.

"I promise, Dean," Castiel said with a nod.

Dean seemed to relax but only a little; there was still tension in his shoulders. He gathered the angel's hands in his, squeezing only moments before Castiel vanished. Sam could no longer detect the warm beam of energy that had dragged him into a utopia of happy memories and so felt secure in crossing the threshold. "Dean?" he called softly.

"We have rogue hunters to find, Sammy," he said, glancing up at the dangling chandelier that was supposed to have fallen with a look of bewilderment on his face. "Man, I could have sworn…" he faltered and shook his head.

"What?" Sam asked curious and desperate to climb aboard Dean's train of thought.

"Nothing," Dean muttered. "Let's get on this crap so we can go back to hunting evil instead of babysitting monsters."

Sam nodded and joined his brother on the search for Bobby. Balthazar walked alongside Sam, grinning with an unspoken secret. However, that secret would not be one for long. "Your jealousy is actually adorable."

Sam turned to face Balthazar, but he was not wearing his female vessel, today. Today, he looked like the smarmy dick angel that had gone from rebelling against Heaven and annoying the brothers with his childish antics, to the angel that had attempted to save Castiel from the clutches of Hell due to Crowley's evil manipulation. He wore a v-neck t-shirt, an open gray blazer and a pair of dark blue jeans.

"I'm not jealous," he hissed low enough for Dean not to hear.

"Sure, sure. Is it just because you saw Cassie with impressive melons or what?"

Sam stopped and turned to face the smug angel "Why do you call him that?"

"Good on you to completely avoid the obvious. Love it. In answer to your question, we all used to call him that. He hated it to be honest. He used to get all up in arms about it, lecturing each of us one by one and demanding to be called by his rightful name." Balthazar laughed at the memory. "We never listened."

"That's kind of… mean," Sam said as they started walking down the long, dimly lit corridor.

"Humans aren't the only ones that can be bullies," Balthazar said, glancing over at Sam. "So I guess… yeah, it kind of was."

"What changed?"

"Her—or him—or what have you. Obviously, we thought Cassie was just a pushover. And in a manner of speaking, he was. Then he took over as captain of our garrison and kicked our asses into shape. He was a good solider but a much better captain. You didn't cross him. You trusted him and you were better because of him. Why do you think he was chosen above all the others to retrieve your fool-headed brother?"

Sam's mouth fell open. "So he… he was chosen to save Dean?"

"He went in with a team of others—I being one of them, and he got there before any of us. Obviously, dad knew he would. If I'm being honest, he's always been different. I guess maybe… we bullied him because of it. We always used to whisper behind his back that he wasn't like us. See…"

They arrived in a small carpeted room, surrounded by shelves of books. Bobby sat at a small desk in the corner, a pile of books right next to him as he perused a particularly large one. Dean turned obviously having been listening to the conversation despite his lack of response.

"Cassie would go off to visit with Michael every day before our garrison was sent to Earth. We all had our theories about what might be going on, but Cassie pulled me aside after a particularly boring watch day to admit that he was genuinely hurt by all the whispers and he just wanted to set the record straight."

"Why you?" Sam asked, glancing over at Bobby's book briefly curious before returning his eyes to the angel.

"I don't know. I think it had to do with my attempt to defend him. He may have been the weirdest angel in Heaven, but he was good at his job so I… I said something. He took it to heart, I guess."

Sam nodded and grabbed a chair to slowly sink down on. "So uh… why was he visiting Michael every day?"

"According to Cassie, Michael was trying to teach him the art of… being impassive."

"I'm surprised he would need to learn that. He seems like a natural," Dean spoke up, leaning against one of the shelves, his eyes on Balthazar.

"That's all thanks to Michael," Balthazar admitted. "See, sweetie, the thing about Cassie is that he has always been sensitive to emotions. On Earth it was a lot worse. He never wanted to just sit and watch. He wanted to participate. He wanted to help."

"And you tore into him for that?" Dean asked through gritted teeth. Sam knew that if Balthazar gave Dean enough fuel, he would be lighting a dangerous fire.

"I was the good guy, Dean," Balthazar defended.

"If you're the good guy, I'd hate to see your definition of a bad guy," Dean scoffed, crossing his arms.

Balthazar stepped towards the stubborn hunter, invading his personal space, eyes flashing. "Hm, let's take a look back, shall we?"

"Back off," Dean spat.

"Belle," Sam called in plea.

"I'm not the only one who screwed up, Dean."

"I said back off, Balthazar!"

"Before everything went to Hell; before Raphie decided to take the apocalypse into his own hands, Cassie used to talk to me… about you. He told me how he gave up everything only to find that you didn't even care! He told me that he felt betrayed by you! If I'm being honest, I can't help but think that you, Dean Winchester, are just using my brother to fulfill some kind of twisted human-angel fantasy…"

The deliberately hard swing connected Dean's fist to the angel's jaw, causing the angel to stumble back in shock.

"Hey!" Bobby shouted, helping Sam to keep the two apart by grabbing Dean's arms before he could launch forward in order to finish the beating.

Balthazar cleared a spot of blood from his split lip, gazing at it impressed. "Wow, seems like you're getting stronger, beefcake."

Dean's breathing was heavy and uneven as he straightened and continued to glare at Balthazar. "He never told you that," Dean gasped finally after having recovered his voice.

"Actually he did, sweetpea. Sorry to say, but you ain't no saint. We've both made mistakes and we both have to find some way to redeem ourselves."

Dean relaxed enough for Bobby to let him go, but both Sam and Bobby remained on alert in case the conversation turned again. "Look, obviously all three of us got a lot to atone for," he muttered.

"You're right about that," Balthazar agreed, holding his lip.

"Are you two finished squabbling?" Bobby asked after silence had fallen for more than a few seconds.

Dean and Balthazar exchanged glances. There was still that spark of animosity that might never be extinguished, but beyond that was an understanding between Castiel's best friend and Castiel's true love. They had to get along. They had to see eye-to-eye, for Cas, because they were the most important people in the angel's life and he could not live without either of them. Dean knew this; they had fought about this. For all intents and purposes, Balthazar was the good guy.

And then Balthazar said the words that would drive the point straight home. "I love him, too, Dean."

"Are we done here?" Bobby asked, glancing from one determined face to the other.

Balthazar took a step back and Dean unfolded his arms, letting them drop to his sides. "Yeah uh… but just uh… one more thing."

"Come on, Dean," Sam groaned. "Lay off him, already."

Dean shot Sam a look before resuming, "Whatever you think I'm doin with Cas, you've got it all wrong. I'm not using him, alright? I know I've been a giant douchebag before. I know that. But I learned, okay? All I've ever wanted to do was fix it and that's what I'm doin here, I'm fixing it."

Balthazar nodded slowly.

"Are we good?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, Dean. Yeah, we're good."

Dean let out a breathy sigh of relief and sagged a little more into the shelf. "Good…"

"So uh… is it cool if I date your brother?"

"What?" Sam squeaked not quite prepared for this.

"It's not even a little cool," Dean replied. "In fact if you so much as make a pass at him, I will have to take you out back and shoot you, understand?"

Balthazar chuckled. "The big brother is always so cute when he's being protective."

"Can we talk about our current situation, now?" Bobby asked, returning to his desk to close the large leather bound book. "Or do you three need to talk about your feelings some more?"

Balthazar pointed at the older hunter with a wide grin. "You're adorable, Bobby." The angel would have pinched Bobby's cheeks, but Bobby's scathing glare warded him off.

"What are you looking at, Bobby?" Sam asked, glancing over Bobby's shoulder to peruse the cover of the large and presumably ancient book.

"Far as I can tell, it's a book detailing all the monsters in Purgatory," Bobby replied. "Must've been something Ellie brought with her."

Sam pressed his hand down on the thick jacket, trailing his fingers over the engraved words that were clearly in another language, one Sam did not recognize. He looked to Bobby for the answer, but it wasn't Bobby who supplied. "It says… Creatures Born of the Mother."

Everyone, including the only angel in the room, turned to stare at Dean. He gazed at each of them in turn and shrugged. "What? It shouldn't be a surprise that I'm fluent in Enochian."

Sam stammered, looking from his brother's face to Balthazar's. "Is he right, Belle, is that what it says?"

Balthazar nodded slowly and glanced over to Dean. "Cassie would be proud," he announced and clapped Dean hard on the shoulder.

"I highly doubt it," Dean mumbled. "It's bad enough I can teleport; I don't think Cas is gonna be on board with this new side effect."

Balthazar sighed. "He worries too much. He has always been that way, worrying until he starts molting. He needs to learn to just relax and take things in stride or he's going to look like you soon."

"Right, because that's easy given the circumstances," Dean retorted, rolling his eyes. It didn't take him too long afterward to figure out that the angel was insulting him. "What do you mean, look like me?"

The angel smirked. "Easy, tiger, I didn't mean to bruise your delicate ego."

"You're just aimin for a beat down," Dean growled, stepping forward.

Sam placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him advancing further. "Dean, don't," he said gently.

Before Dean could, the angel was gone in a flap of wings. Dean's shoulders were still tense, his jaw working furiously to hold back a tirade of cuss words. "I don't get why those two are such best buds," he said through ground teeth.

"Because they have each other's backs," Sam supplied, letting go of his fuming brother's shoulder.

Dean groaned. "Well, now that the son of a bitch is gone, let's get down to business."

Sam cleared his throat and pulled up a chair next to Bobby. "Dean… aren't you the least bit worried about this whole… infinite soul thing?"

"No," Dean replied without even a moment's hesitation.

Bobby joined the conversation. "Look, son, I don't mean to get between you and Cas here, but this is big, and you're treatin it like you treated sellin off your soul or even sayin yes to Michael."

"Come on, Bobby," Dean argued, refusing to sit even though Sam had just offered him an empty chair. He wanted to pace. "We all know the only way to ditch the infinite soul is for me to ditch Cas, and I ain't doin that."

"We're not askin you to ditch Cas," Bobby said, his voice smoother and gentler than Dean was used to. "How about you just go back to normal with him?"

Dean laughed as though the suggestion alone was ludicrous. "You want me to just pretend nothing happened in Luckless?"

Bobby and Sam exchanged looks of concern. "Dean…"

"I'm not doin it, okay? It took me years to get here and I ain't givin it up just because of a stupid prophesy that may or may not kill me!" He massaged his cheeks with both hands. "Now can we get back to bigger fish, or you wanna keep goin around in circles about this?"

Bobby sighed and Sam hung his head in reluctant defeat, but they did eventually get back to their current threat. Unable to take anymore Purgatory monster descriptions and GPS locator lingo, he left the two geniuses to head for the kitchen. If there was pie, he was having a slice. He needed something good in his life right now, and with Castiel still MIA after this morning's chandelier-crashing kiss, he felt like half his heart was gone, too, tucked in the pocket of the angel's coat for safe keeping.

Promising Castiel he wouldn't drink, he was forced to grab a cola from the side of the fridge, flip the tab with a sharp hiss and chug the carbonated liquid. He hadn't heard the front door open or the resounding footsteps until they were storming through the doorway.

"Dean Winchester, we need to talk!"

Dean set his coke down on the long marble counter and turned to face the hysterical blue eyes of Jimmy Novak. "Want a drink?" he offered, grabbing the handle of the fridge, but the ad salesman shook his head.

"You wanna explain to me what's going on between you and Cas?"

Dean shook his head and nabbed his coke again, gulping several more mouthfuls. "Nope," he finally responded.

"Fine, how about I jump right to the chase, here and ask the obvious question: Are you sleeping with him?"

Dean lowered the coke below his lips to stare at the disapproving look on Jimmy's face. "Sorry, man, I'm not sharin my private life with you."

"Actually, man," Jimmy retorted, biting down on what was supposed to be an amiable label shared between friends. "You messin with him invades my private life, so you had better spill it!"

Dean gripped the edge of the counter behind him. "Okay, yeah, we've gotten… biblical, but…"

Jimmy sank against the wall, massaging his temples. "Oh holy god," he choked.

"But," Dean emphasized, "not with your vessel so you can breathe easy."

Jimmy straightened considerably and stared at Dean in hopes that he was telling the truth. "Really?"

"Cas wouldn't do it even if I asked," Dean continued with a shrug.

"But you didn't…"

"No," Dean snapped. That was a lie. He had asked, but Cas was adamantly against it. He had to wonder if Cas and Jimmy had ever discussed the subject of sex with someone other than his wife. Dean suddenly felt bad for trying to push the poor angel into losing his virginity on the day they had their dangerous face-to-face with Raphael. "Are we done here?"

Jimmy grabbed a chair to sink into, his relief siphoning all the tension from his muscles. "I said no when he asked," Jimmy admitted quietly, his eyes focused on the table top.

Dean sat, too, but not before grabbing another coke to slide in front of the exhausted ad salesman. "You had every right, man."

Jimmy popped open his can and sipped at the edge. "Yeah… he told me that I wouldn't feel a thing, that it would be just like it never happened, but…" he looked up at Dean. "It's my body. I gave him permission to possess it, but not for… you know… that."

"I get it," Dean said, finishing his coke and squeezing the can with his fingers. "I would've been Michael's grand finale if I hadn't fought him so damn hard. But letting him in… it sucked! I hated it! I hated bein dragged around like that and havin no say on what my body was forced to do. Havin no control? It just feels wrong."

Jimmy nodded. "You do get it."

"We're not gonna do anything, Jimmy. Hell, if it makes you feel better, you don't turn my crank."

Jimmy frowned. "What are you saying?"

Dean shrugged and got up from the chair to toss his empty coke can. "I'm sayin I'm not the least bit attracted to you."

Jimmy stood, too, straightening his t-shirt and raking a hand through his wind-blown hair. "Well, you know what? You're no GQ model, either."

Dean rounded on the flustered ad salesman. "Point taken. Now you wanna spill what's goin on with the wife before you explode all over me?"

Jimmy shifted from one foot to the other. "It's complicated."

"Isn't it always?" Dean muttered, knowing what this usually meant when not attached to a human and an angel trying to make it work. "She cheat?"

Jimmy's mouth fell. "Cas tell you?"

"No," Dean replied, shrugging, "It's complicated usually means she cheated or you did. It really ain't rocket science."

"Cause you've been cheated on so many times?" Jimmy guessed, sitting back down to gulp his coke now.

Dean chuckled with his answer. "No, man, I never stuck around long enough to get into issues like that."

"What about Lisa?" Jimmy asked, lifting his can to swirl the contents inside. "That was what, a year commitment?"

"You like eve's dropping on personal calls?"

"Let's just say that sometimes… I overhear."

Dean sighed and leaned against the counter. "Lisa never cheated," he said solemnly, "She could've. Hell, I wouldn't have blamed her if she did, but she was faithful. It wasn't until I was out of the picture that she got back on the horse."

Jimmy nodded. "You miss her?"

"For a long time, I did. Now… not so much. I'm not sayin we didn't have a good thing going, but we both knew I didn't really belong there. Her and Ben deserved someone that could give them a normal life and I didn't really fit the bill."

Jimmy held around his coke can. "I hate it when there's a kid involved."

Dean nodded in agreement. He cared about Ben, but because he cared, and because he loved him like a son, he only wanted the best for him and that meant keeping him away from hunting. "What's next for you, huh?" he asked Jimmy. "You gonna skip town? Take a trip off continent?"

"I should," Jimmy laughed. "God knows I've never seen Australia, but Claire is here, and despite everything that's happened between her mother and me, I need to be in her life."

"Good choice, dude," Dean said with a smile. "Plus, there is a super hot rebound crashing in the guest house."

Jimmy crossed his arms to glare at Dean. "It's only been two months and the paperwork isn't even filed."

Dean winked. "She's seriously hot, dude!"

"Does Cas know you're checkin out other women?" Jimmy snapped.

"Nobody said it's against the law to look. And if all you wanna do is a little window shopping, I would start now." He grinned and turned to face the bay window that looked out onto the gravel driveway. He could see the sharp edge of the cliff in the distance. Two women stood several feet from his car clearly discussing something important. "Come see, buddy!" he gestured, motioning for Jimmy to join him.

"You're crazy," Jimmy muttered.

Dean shrugged. "It's been said, but she is smoking with a shotgun in her hand."

Jimmy approached to gaze out the window then stumbled back. "You want me to hit on her?"

Dean turned to face him. "If you've still got the juice," he laughed. "Marriage tends to kill the instinct."

"She can read minds, you ass!"

Dean laughed. "So… what's the big deal?"

Dean surveyed the ad salesman's sudden change in demeanour, like he couldn't quite hold himself upright, his fists clenched tight at his sides. He was even chewing on his bottom lip. "Jesus! You're sweet on her, already?"

Jimmy scrubbed down the length of his face with his knuckles. "I'm not hitting on her, alright? I'm not gonna do anything that stupid!"

Dean couldn't suppress the smirk. "You worried she'd shoot you down?"

Jimmy glared at him. "How about we stop talking about this and you tell me where my daughter is?"

"Claire's sleeping," Dean said, pushing the smirk down but not far enough.

"Fine, where's Sam?"

"With Bobby, and trust me, man, she wouldn't say no. Seriously, what's the harm in doin a quick coffee thing?"

"You need to shut up," Jimmy snapped.

"A little afternoon delight…" he chuckled, but was interrupted by a gun shot that rang through the house and vibrated under the floor followed by an explosion and a shriek. Both men charged outside to confront the two women.

Betty was laughing hysterically. "I told you to shoot towards the roof and watch for the kickback."

"I don't know what any of that means!" Erica screamed, dropping the shotgun to approach Jimmy and Dean. The explosion had been the driver's side window of Jimmy's navy Subaru.

"You shot out the window of my car," he gasped, staring at his car in awestruck horror.

"I'm so sorry," she pleaded, looking from his face to Dean's. "I don't know what kickback means and I guess… my aim was a little off."

"A little off?" Dean chuckled, eyebrows arched.

"I told Betty I wasn't comfortable carrying a firearm, but she insisted I learn how to use them just in case."

"So she used a shotgun as practice? And where the hell did she even get it?"

Betty approached to punch his shoulder. "You are an open book, hot stuff, so once I found out you keep an arsenal in your trunk, I picked the lock and the rest is well…" she glanced to the glass littering the ground next to the car. "You know."

"I'm sorry, James," Erica said again, "I'll make it up to you, alright? I'll pay to get it fixed."

He turned his head to face her, shoulders relaxing. "Uh… no… it was an accident."

"You have to want something," she pressed, "So please just…"

"Coffee," he interrupted, gazing at her.

Dean felt like clapping the ad salesman on the back and congratulating him for his bold maneuver. He said nothing, though.

"You want me to buy you a coffee?" she asked, thin eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"No, I want to buy you one," he corrected.

She seemed to be fighting back a smile. "I um… I really need to think about that," she said, "You don't mind?"

He shook his head, glancing quick at Dean as though wordlessly asking for advice. "Uh… no," he finally answered. "But in the meantime, if you wanna learn how to use a gun… I can help."

"You know something about guns, mister family man?" Betty remarked, facing him.

"I wasn't always a family man, Betty," he replied and walked over to pick up the shotgun, aiming it at a tree in the distance. A crow was sitting on one of the branches, cleaning its feathers completely oblivious to the world, until a shot sliced the air, and the startled bird took off into the powder blue sky.

"Well… you almost impressed me," Betty laughed as Jimmy walked back over to them. "Your aim was a little off, though."

"I wasn't aiming for the bird," he told her and gestured to the tree. Seconds later, the same branch where the crow had been sitting, struck the ground with a loud crash. "I was thirteen. My dad liked to hunt and I liked to read. One summer, he suggested we do something together, so he took me hunting."

Dean stared at the ad salesman impressed, taking the shotgun from him. "Gotta admit, you're lookin a lot better, now."

"I think you should take me out for coffee, big boy," Betty said, winking at him.

Jimmy's eyes were on Erica, who was still staring at the fallen branch. "So you wanna learn to shoot, properly?"

She turned to face him and nodded. "Yes."

Dean assisted the two in picking a proper gun for the occasion, choosing something small to suit Erica's frame. He tugged out his desert eagle, handing it to Jimmy, and glaring at Betty as he closed the trunk with his elbow. "Next time, ask," he demanded as they walked back towards the house.

"What's the fun in that?" she teased, nudging his arm. "Oh and kudos on lying to mister gun-toting family man," she added with a smirk.

"What the hell you talking about?" he snapped at her.

"You never asked Cas to get it on with you while he was wearing Jimmy? We both know that's not true."

He stopped to glare hard at her. "You need to stop butting into people's thoughts. Crap like that might actually get you dead."

"Are you threatening me, puny man?" she laughed, crossing her arms.

"Stay outta my head, bitch," he fired, "or this puny man will kick your sorry ass to the curb, understand?"

She stepped into his personal space, something he only allowed his angel to do. "Dean, let me explain how my abilities work." He stepped back and crossed his arms. "I'm a mind-reader. In other words, I'm not human, so I can't stay out of yours or anyone else's heads. Reading minds to my kind is like breathing to yours."

Dean took another step back to put more of a gap between them. "Fine, do what you gotta do, but keep it to yourself," he bargained.

They parted ways and Betty returned to Jimmy and Erica while Dean crossed the threshold into the house. He was immediately startled by her presence. How long had she been waiting for him there, looking like that?

"Cas?"

"Hello Dean," she greeted with a smile.

"Your girl modeling for the swimsuit issue?" he asked with a slight smirk of amusement.

She gazed down at her attire of a leopard print bikini and white see-through wrap-around. "Yes," she replied flatly. "Apparently, this is what's considered 'sexy' on the beach."

"Not just the beach," he exhaled, whistling low.

"Cas?" Sam's voice fell low as he stepped further into the foyer with Bobby. "You uh… um… you look…"

"Hot," Dean supplied for the stammering hunter. "Really hot." He added a thumbs up just for emphasis.

"I feel a little… exposed," she admitted.

Sam shrugged out of his button-down shirt about ready to hand it over to her when Dean caught his wrist. "I've got this," he said, approaching the angel to wrap his arm around her shoulders. "Come on, Cas, I've got a shirt you can have," he offered, guiding her towards the staircase.

"Hey, Cas," Bobby bellowed after them, "When you got a sec, we need to have a serious chat you don't mind."

"Of course, Bobby," she called back.

She was thrilled to be seeing her hunter, again, but seeing as Jimmy was busy teaching Erica the art of firing a gun, she summoned Audrey. She liked Audrey and Audrey liked her, in fact, Audrey gave her free reign on some of her photo shoots, admitting that they should share the workload as well as the money. Castiel insisted that it really wasn't necessary, that Audrey was doing more for her than she could possibly need or want, but the fashion model wouldn't take no for an answer and split her cheques, placing the money in separate accounts.

She was pretty far along in her pregnancy already, but the 'baby bump' as Audrey called it had no effect on the photo shoots since the main focus was her face all done up in expensive eye products. She really did have very beautiful eyes, though not so much as Dean who easily could have been one of those male models, posing further down the white beach of Cancun, Mexico in nothing but swim trunks.

"Cas," Audrey purred during one of their more private talks away from all the cameras and the people. "I am not going to stand in the way of you messin around with a hottie like Dean."

"I do not want to mess around with him, Audrey," the angel said firmly, sure that she was able to practise self-control around him and avoid any thoughts of fornication. She was an angel, after all, so it should not have been so difficult. But the night before it happened, she asked Audrey to help her divert her thoughts.

"You want to… stop thinking about him?"

"You have to help me," she pleaded now.

"Cas, you should go for it," Audrey insisted, laughing as she tugged her shoe up over her heel.

"I won't do that!"

"Look, you said yourself that I won't feel anything, that it will be just like nothing at all had happened…"

"That's not the point, Audrey."

"Then what is the point? You love him, don't you?" She was adjusting her top now.

"Yes."

"And he loves you?"

"It's not that simple."

Audrey laughed. "It's always that simple, honey. To be honest, if you don't get yourself laid, tonight, I'm going to get myself laid, tonight, so choose fast."

Castiel's voice was firm. "I need you for something that is much more important than… getting… laid."

The fashion model dropped her foot to the carpet in the living room of her studio apartment. "That's what this is? You're asking me to work?"

"Yes."

"You really need to get out and have a real social life. I mean… like movies, and bars, and dancing till you're too sore to move. You need it, honey. You need an outlet!"

"Fine," the angel submitted, "Come with me and I will… try… one of those things."

"Promise?" The fashion model was grinning as she pinned her hair back with a silver clip.

"Yes… I promise."

"Good. We'll go out dancing, first, and then… you're gonna do some modeling, baby!"

Castiel tilted her head to gaze at the fine arch of Dean's back as he dug through a large duffel bag. He may not have remembered the events of last night, but she did, and watching that back down to that perfectly sculpted buttocks reminded her hands of being there. She felt her fingers twitch and she locked them behind her back. Self-control, she ordered, closing her eyes. He emerged with a tee shirt in hand, grinning. "Cas?"

"That will work," she said quickly and he smiled before pulling it over her head. He was close now, so close that warmth emanated from his soul to tease that piece of his soul he had given to her. "Thank you," she murmured.

"No problem," he whispered, wrapping her up in a warm embrace with his lips against her temple. "I assume you're here for more than just a tee shirt," he teased.

"Yes," she admitted softly, "I have reason to believe that Remiel and Sansa are the angels you witnessed in the crowd of hunters."

"Not friends of yours?" he guessed.

"Both were in the garrison that was formed to take you out of Hell," she explained, "It seems that they are not pleased with the rumours about your soul. According to sources, they have gone rogue to find, capture and kill you for your energy."

"Perfect," he muttered, "Darth Vader angels."

"I don't understand that reference," she admitted. He referred to many things that eluded her, but his answer was always to shake his head and charge forward as though it didn't matter. He didn't do that, this time.

"The angels have obviously gone dark side," he explained. "Understanding the Vader reference will require you to get comfy with another movie series."

"Like that one about the little people with the furry feet?"

"Hobbits," he corrected with a laugh, "And yeah, but… cooler. These guys fly around in space and there are robots and ewoks and fights with light sabers…" he faltered to the look on her face. She was trying to comprehend words like ewoks and light sabers but these were not a part of her vocabulary. "It's great, alright? That's all you need to know."

She nodded slowly. "The angels Remiel and Sansa will lead the hunters to where you are so we must put up sigils to ward them off," she told him.

"Like… angel sigils? Won't they send you packin, too?"

"No. There are certain symbols I will not add that will protect both me and Belle."

He grimaced. "You sure you wanna keep Balthazar from getting the boot?"

If he was joking, she couldn't tell, and they had just resolved a fight about Balthazar earlier so he had to be joking. "Dean…"

"Come on, Cas! I know you see how that dickless dick looks at my brother—like he's freakin meat on a stick—and I just… I'd feel better if he wasn't around."

She shook her head and lifted his arms from around her. "I see you have not changed on the matter."

"Cas…"

"I have sigils to put up, Dean, to protect you and your family." She pulled the tee shirt up and over her head to pass back to him. "I will not be needing this because after the sigils have been put in place, I will not be coming back."

Dean expelled a breath of air and his chest constricted as though she had physically punched him beneath his ribs. "So, what? You're ditching me—just like that? What happened to all that true love crap?"

"I don't have to be with you to love you," she said and before he could get a syllable in, she vanished.

She emerged in front of the desk in Bobby's makeshift office where both Sam and Bobby were busy working on something. Both looked so engrossed in the reading that they didn't even notice her standing there until she spoke. "Sam. Bobby," she called. Both hunters jerked their heads up to gaze at her. "I am going to need your help with something."

Castiel was in the middle of her third sigil which she was painting on the outside front door when Dean's presence forced her around with her palm still bleeding. "If you're looking for Sam he's out back."

"I'm not looking for Sam," he said, wrapping warm fingers around her wrist to tug her closer. With his eyes still on her, he pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and dragged the sharp end across his palm, splitting the skin. She flinched because his pain had been masked by a grimace. He was trying to make a point, though she didn't learn what the point was until he pressed his bleeding palm to hers and folded his fingers down. "Cas," he started, but she cut him off.

"Balthazar is my only family, Dean, just like Sam and Bobby are yours!"

"Cas, wait…"

"I would never make you choose! And you know why I wouldn't? Because I know just how important family is! I know because that is what you taught me!" She sniffled. Emotions ran rampant in this vessel, and with the baby tugging on every heart string she owned, she had no idea when the tears would come. And she was never fully prepared when they did. "After we have finished here, we are leaving," she added.

"No you're not," he said calmly yet sternly.

"Yes, I am," she argued.

"No you're not, Cas. You need to hear me out, alright?"

She pursed her lips and looked about ready to tell him off right there and then, but her head tilted in unison with his to acknowledge a shiver in the air and a quake beneath them. A voice soon followed and both rounded on two humans standing there. By the twisted smirks on their faces, Dean knew they were possessed by demons. One of those demons was well-known for assisting in the murder of Ellen and Jo. As a Lucifer loyalist, she was not happy to find out that Crowley had taken the reigns of Hell and so she planned on killing him, enlisting the help of both brothers to do it.

She gazed past Dean to the angel standing there and arched an eyebrow. "Cas?" she guessed.

This demon and his angel had a past—a short one, an insignificant one, but they still had one. She had tricked Cas in his male vessel by drawing him into a kiss while she slid the angel blade out of his coat. Then, for reasons Dean still couldn't fathom, besides the angel's casual "I learned that from the pizza man" explanation, the angel grabbed the demon, hoisted her against the wall of Crowley's hideout and kissed her fiercely. Dean remembered it. He remembered how that one kiss twisted like a knife to his heart. He shuffled and looked away and tried to comprehend why he suddenly felt like he might be sick.

"Meg," he finally growled, holding his demon-knife upright.

She grinned tauntingly and pinpointed him with an amused stare. "So, a little birdie informed me that you two are…" she glimpsed Cas briefly, "an item now." Her grin widened. "And not just any item, either, you are the big ticket item."

"Bite me," he snapped at her.

"I'm hurt, Cas, I always thought we had… well… a connection."

Her demon buddy stood with his arms crossed, eyes flicking to black upon sight of Dean. He was there to kill them all and he made no qualms about voicing his impatience to Meg. "We shouldn't be talking, Meg! We should be tearing their lungs out."

Meg put up her finger as a signal for Dean and Cas to wait one minute, and approached the other demon. "I'll keep this simple, Derek, that stunning lovely beside Dean is an angel, and not any angel, either. She's an archangel. So unless you want her to smite you, you should shut up."

The demon growled. "I don't give a damn what she is! We're here to kill them!"

"No," Meg said and tugged something out of her pocket to show him but not Dean or Cas. "You are here to help me make a point."

"Is that…" the demon stammered.

"It is," she replied and before the demon could evacuate his meat suit, a shot was fired and the demon crumpled to the ground, orange sparks rushing fatally through his system. Meg turned to face them and Dean had to stop himself from stabbing her.

"You have the colt?" he snarled, "How did you get your grubby mitts on it?"

"Oh," she laughed, "You mean you're not in that loop?" She walked forward, the gun held tightly in her one hand. "The hunters are being accompanied by demons that feel your posse is trying to rehabilitate their kind. Let's just say, they are not pleased."

"That doesn't explain how you have the colt," Castiel said, taking Dean's restless and still bleeding palm to lace their fingers, healing the wound. He squeezed, but once the wound had been stitched, she let go.

Meg had been paying close attention. "I know some of those demons. We talk. I take their meat suits. I infiltrate said group and grab the colt before anyone has a chance to stop me." She grinned. "Have I interrupted a lover's spat?"

Dean stepped forward. "What the hell do you want, bitch?" he demanded, eyeing the colt now.

"I want to join your posse," she replied and shrugged. "I'm simpler than you think, alright? I'm a demon, yes, but I've decided that I'd rather be on the winning side. Besides, I can help. I'm perfect double-agent material."

"Because you can't be trusted," Dean spat.

"You have more demons coming this way. A couple minutes and you won't have a chance. Let me in, and I'll help you protect the refugees."

Cas' voice was calm and clear. "Dean, I don't think we have a choice. The demons are coming. I can feel their presence."

Dean exhaled through his mouth and glared at the demon. "Fine, you want in, hand the colt over," he ordered, stretching his arm out palm up.

Reluctantly, she did so. "You going to let me in?"

"Yes," Cas replied before Dean could. "But first tell us why the demons are coming?"

She grinned. "Word travels fast, love birds. They are after the big ticket item…" she pointed at Dean but kept a gap between her finger and his chest. "You."

Cas nodded as though this was enough confirmation. The sky shivered and the ground quaked again and then again. "How much time do we have?"

"Thirty seconds if that," Meg replied.

Cas pulled Dean around to face her. "Take Meg and get inside. I want you to keep drawing sigils. It will protect you from my brothers. Do you understand?"

"Screw that," he snapped, "I'm not gonna just…"

"I'm not giving you a choice," she murmured and before he could laugh, she opened the door with a swish of her hand and pushed him inside so hard that he struck the floor and slid. Meg stood over him with her hand out to offer him assistance.

"Tough broad you got there," she teased.

He ignored her hand and forced himself to his feet, but even as he ran, he knew he was too late. A tornado of demons struck with surprising force, causing all the windows to explode upon impact. Castiel caught Dean's gaze once before the dark intimidating cloud captured her and whisked her away.

"No," he yelled. "Cas!"

Footsteps pounded through the house and both Sam and Balthazar were there, gazing out the blown windows. "Where is she?" Balthazar demanded, turning to pin Dean's gaze with her own.

"Demons," Meg gasped. "They took her."

Balthazar nodded and vanished, leaving Sam with his mouth open in awestruck horror. "Demons?" he finally managed, approaching his heartbroken brother. "What did they want?"

"Me," Dean choked.

Sam shot Meg a sideways glance but didn't comment. Meg didn't comment, either. All three of them were stunned into silence until Dean turned to face Sam, eyes wide and wet. "I need to save her, Sammy…"

"What do you have in mind?"

Dean straightened, crunching the glass beneath his boots. "Severing the connection," he replied.

Castiel and Balthazar landed on the edge of the cliff overlooking the rushing rapids more than fifty feet below them. Most of the demons had been wiped out, but there was at least a handful left and both angels were drained of too much energy to continue fighting. Castiel reached out to grab one advancing demon when she felt it—a sensation of vertigo that caused her to stumble and fall weak to her knees. The demons backed off, black smoke screaming out of their meat suits.

"Cas?" Balthazar called, crawling over to the fallen angel. "What's going on?"

Castiel gazed back towards the house where a bright light was receding. "The tether has been cut," she whispered.

"What?"

"Dean is no longer the infinite soul."