Castiel stood on the corner of first and Amistad in Quemedo, Texas. He was waiting on Balthazar who had been attempting to convince a young waitress in the town's only bar that she was a guardian angel who had been called upon to fulfill her purpose. Castiel's first attempt did not go well.
"That's the most pathetic line in the book!" she fired at him over her shoulder and resumed her rounds, delivering drinks to each of the patrons there, and taking orders on a small notepad. Castiel followed her, desperate to convince her of her true calling and recruit her to their ranks as soon as possible. Hopelessness was spreading like a disease and with their numbers dwindling, they needed as much help as they could get, even if they were forced to ask those that still had several hundred years before they started training.
"I implore you to listen to me!"
She rounded on him, anger setting fire to the soft green irises. "Hey, freak! I'm engaged to be married in the spring so you need to back off right now or I'll call security on your ass!"
"Why does your engagement…"
One of the other patrons caught his arm with a grin to the furious waitress. "Let me take this cutie off your hands, Jenna," she purred, hugging the angel's arm now.
"Thank you, Liz," The waitress Jenna said with a sigh.
"No… wait!" Castiel cried after her, but she was gone, weaving around each of the tables until she disappeared behind the bar. Liz was a waitress also and she hugged his arm tighter; it took all of Castiel's will power not to teleport out of there.
"So, my shift is nearly done. You wanna maybe get outta here?"
"I need to stay, but… I thank you for the invite."
Liz laughed, dipping her hand beneath the folds of the angel's coat. "We could go to my place…"
Castiel tugged her hand free of him and buttoned his coat right to his chin. He may have been clueless before when it came to female intentions, but having twice possessed a female vessel, he understood enough to know that they certainly were not fragile creatures. "I'm not interested… Elizabeth. I wish not to harm your ego, but…" he stopped, remembering a line that Dean had used on a rather flamboyant woman several months earlier, "you are not my type."
Liz stood there silent, jaw working, eyes flashing. Obviously, even though he didn't mean to, he had harmed her ego. Eventually, she pursed her lips, released his arm, stuck her finger up in what he could only assume was a rude gesture, and stalked towards the bar.
"That went well," murmured a voice from behind his shoulder. "I think she liked you."
Castiel rounded on his brother in arms. "I lost her, Balthazar. What am I supposed to do? Michael's list was very specific; Jenna Rainer is supposed to start her duties today."
"Look, take a chill pill and relax, brother. I have an idea."
"What idea?"
"Never mind about the details, just trust me, alright? I've got this all under control." With a coy smirk, Balthazar touched Castiel's forehead.
Now, he stood on Amistad Avenue, hoping that Balthazar had done a better job than he was able to with the young guardian. He glanced from one end of the road to the other. A large semi-truck rumbled along—the driver singing along to the radio so loud that Castiel could hear his gritty voice as the truck passed by him, a rush of air followed the truck and nearly threw the archangel off balance. Balthazar still had not arrived.
What could he do that Castiel hadn't already done?
Castiel had appealed to the girl's sense of honour, compassion, empathy, but received no response, just a lot of eye rolling and the occasional snort of derision. He sighed. A second semi-truck rumbled past, lights blazing gold on the long stretch of road. He felt alone, compelled to access the tether that connected his mind to Dean's. He had never felt this close to anyone in his two thousand years of existence and he wasn't breaking any of Heaven's rules by asking one simple question. He shuffled from one foot to the other, drove his hands deep into the pockets of his overcoat, and eventually closed his eyes. He could see Dean's mind and all the thoughts running rampant. He felt the presence of alcohol, but contained the urge to start lecturing the hunter. Instead, he focused on his question.
Is there really a book of pathetic lines?
Silence followed. Usually, it was Dean accessing the tether. But the questions he asked were generally impersonal, inquiries about certain creatures him and his brother happened to be hunting. And Castiel always obliged.
No, Cas.
The angel sighed unexpectedly. He didn't realize until now how much he missed the sound of Dean's voice. Sure they had communicated just yesterday about an unidentified object the brothers found in Phoenix, but to Castiel it felt like years.
Why?
Castiel found himself telling Dean everything that had happened with the two women at the bar, going into detail, his thoughts flowing fast and fluid across the tether. Dean was laughing.
Why are you laughing?
Because that guardian of yours thought you were hitting on her, Cas! There's nothing not funny about that!
The angel laughed as though this was ludicrous. There was only one human Castiel loved. Dean's willingness to open up a little more every day stirred very pleasant feelings inside the angel. Ever since the night he had called Dean invaluable, the hunter was a lot more available. His voice was kinder towards the angel instead of his usual gruff manner followed by a supercilious wisecrack. It had been two weeks since they had labelled their relationship as serious—though still complicated—and they were both content with this.
So Balthazar left ya at the side of the road, huh?
He has a plan.
He's a giant douchenozzle, Cas. You should just ditch his ass and finish the whole recruiting thing on your own.
I have to trust him, Dean. He is my only ally.
He's not your only ally.
Castiel smiled to the warmth now flooding his insides.
Look, all I'm sayin is watch your back.
The connection was interrupted by a voice that was not in Castiel's head and did not belong to Balthazar. He lifted his eyes, startled by a young woman standing there staring at him and grinning. "Here's the thing, Cas," she started, "If we play the part, we have a better chance of getting in."
Castiel recognized the familiar demeanour, the accent, even the flash of mischief in the tiny almond eyes. "Balthazar," he hissed.
Balthazar was now positioned in the guise of a young blond woman with short hair, cut just above her slender shoulders, and small, hourglass shaped frame. She wore a denim skirt hiked up to her thighs and a salmon pink halter top and she stood rather easily on a pair of high-heeled sandals. The girl was pretty in a next-door kind of way. Castiel knew that Dean's reaction to this girl as opposed to Audrey's vessel would not be quite as impressive. He however did not like that Dean, despite his current devotion, could possibly sneak a glance of lust at this woman.
"Tell me that there is a point to be made by stealing yet another vessel? Was Collin not to your liking?"
"Let's just say, if you can do it, I can do it."
"Why?"
"To convince Jenna Rainer of her purpose without looking like a sleeze ball."
Castiel stared hard at his brother, now his sister with the freshly tweezed eyebrows and lips painted a deep copper to match her eyes. "Did it… work?" he asked, wondering why he never thought to do as such by borrowing Audrey's vessel.
"Like a charm, brother! She is now officially a guardian angel. Tonight, she will start training with the rest."
Castiel patted the angel's slender shoulder. "Um… good work."
"Oh! And in case you're wondering, her name is Melissa Garner, younger sister of Collin Garner, and she is exceptionally shy. This poor thing was wearing a sweatshirt and jean cut-offs when I came to her. She does not live the most exciting life, either. Most of her life is spent in a basement kitchen making pizzas."
Castiel eyed the self-confident angel, "Balthazar, you understand that you cannot just possess a vessel without genuine cause."
"I had a genuine cause, brother. I recruited another guardian angel to our flimsy ranks."
"Perhaps, but I know you. You are not selfless and you never have been. It would be in your best interest to return Melissa to where you found her lest the council punish you for your disobedience."
"Oh, and I'm sure your cause for the possession of Audrey is completely genuine and does not have anything to do with your new found connection with Dean."
Castiel glowered at Balthazar. "Jimmy should be allowed to live his life. He has been my vessel for years longer than is necessary and he deserves to be with his family. Audrey can give him that."
"Come on, Cassie," Balthazar goaded with a grin, "Unlike you, I am not that dense."
"Return the vessel, Balthazar!" Castiel snapped.
"Belle," Balthazar corrected, obviously having ignored the archangel's command.
Flustered, Castiel blurted, "What?"
"Call me Belle."
Castiel spoke through gritted teeth. "Is that necessary?"
"Yes. I think it is. No woman wants to be called a name like Balthazar, does she?"
"Stop this!" Castiel ordered. "We have more guardians to visit and I will no longer play these ridiculous games with you!"
"Sure, sure, Cassie, but I wanna make a quick pit-stop first if you don't mind."
Castiel grabbed the angel's arm but it was too late—Balthazar—Belle was gone. Castiel followed, finding himself behind a particularly worn out Dean in a cheap motel room. Dean was standing before a mirror, a tumbler full of whiskey next to him. He was going over information on Sam's tablet; both brothers and their surrogate father Bobby had been hunting the person responsible for the murders of several women found in Yellowstone National Park. So far, they had all come up dry. The hunter grabbed the tumbler and was just about to down the contents in one slug, when he stopped abruptly, head lifting slow. Their eyes met in the mirror. Dean's were tired, ringed and puffy. He was barely sleeping.
"Hello Dean," he greeted in his usual stoic manner. However, inside his heart was thundering hard, attempting to contain his joy coupled with his concern.
The tumbler, still full, was placed back on the table, and Dean rounded on the angel not to yell at him or remind him about personal space, but to attack him with an unexpected hug.
The surprised angel eventually relaxed finally able to return the hug.
"Cas… it's been a long friggin time, man" Dean choked then pulled back to gaze at the angel, eyes brimming with his concern. "Hey. I hate to ask this right now… but… you're not… in trouble, are you?"
Castiel straightened. "I am… fine. I have followed Balthazar here."
"Balthazar?" Dean laughed. "What the hell is that douche doin here?"
"I don't know to be honest," Castiel admitted. He cast a glance to the whisky bottle on the small table then the full tumbler next to it.
Dean bit his bottom lip sheepishly. "One drink, that's it. I swear."
"You should not swear, Dean," Castiel scolded gently.
Dean laughed awkwardly. "It's been a crazy few days."
"I know."
"It's not about… us," he insisted.
"I know that, too."
Dean went to cap the bottle. "I'm cuttin down a lot," the hunter admitted, turning to face Castiel.
The angel walked up to Dean, reached around skilfully while Dean stayed remarkably still, and he grabbed the bottle of whiskey to uncap it before swallowing a mouthful. "Stressed?" Dean asked as Castiel handed the bottle back to Dean.
"I am working with the most frustrating of all Heaven's angels. Stressed is a significant understatement."
Dean's laugh was sudden but he did apologize for it. "Obviously Balthazar's a handful."
"That's putting it mildly," admitted the angel. He eyed the bottle a second time. "Do you mind I…"
Dean shook his head, offering the bottle to Castiel before sinking into a chair. "So you're whiskey chugging is all about Balthazar?" he hedged.
"Yes."
Castiel drank deeper, trying not to imagine the look on Dean's face once he saw Balthazar's new vessel. He paused as something clicked—something he should have taken into account instead of assuming this new vessel change had anything to do with Dean.
"Cas?" Dean called, but Castiel's focus had abruptly stabilized, and without a word, he teleported right to the motel parking lot where Sam had just pulled up in Dean's beloved Impala.
Sam had just come back from a diner across the way. For once, Dean was anxious to do the research and requested a pie. He noticed Castiel standing there several feet from the bumper, a look of agitation on his usually stoic face. He lifted the small plastic bag off the seat and was just about to open the door when a knock on the window startled him. He glanced up to see an unfamiliar woman standing there. She was small in frame with short blond hair, square framed eye glasses, and a fair complexion. Sam did not recognize her, but hoped that she was here to spill the beans about whatever might be going on in Yellowstone National Park.
He rolled down the window halfway. "Hi," he greeted. "Can I… help you with something?"
The woman's eyes brightened considerably before a smile spread across her tiny features. "You don't recognize me, do you, Sammy?" She flipped her hair over her shoulders, combing her slender fingers through it. Her voice was inflected with a British brogue, one he did recognize the minute he heard it.
"Balthazar," he gasped, sliding across the seats to the passenger side and escaping with the plastic bag in hand. The angel emerged in a flap of wings, taking both her hands to pin Sam against the frame of the car.
"Call me Belle," the angel corrected with a flash of pearly whites in addition to an arched eyebrow of pure seduction.
"You're twisted for an angel," Sam said, trying to escape, and failing with a heavy sigh.
"Let him go, Balthazar," Castiel ordered.
Dean burst out of the motel and both angels faced him. Balthazar still refused to release Sam, however.
"Nice vessel," Dean remarked, eliciting a small smile of satisfaction from the angel.
"I knew you'd appreciate her Dean. She definitely appreciates you."
Dean's smirk turned into a threatening icy glare. "You need to let go of my brother—now!"
Balthazar nodded. "I will, I will, don't get your knickers in a twist. Believe it or not but your brother is perfectly capable of making his own big boy decisions." The angel pinched Sam's cheek teasingly, "right Sammy?"
"Bite me, Balthazar," Sam hissed.
"Let him go, douchebag!" Dean stormed, pulling the colt off his belt to aim at the incredibly smug angel. "Do it or I'll shoot you in the face!"
"Dean! Lower your weapon!" Castiel demanded, eyeing Dean sharply. The hunter did so. Castiel walked over to Balthazar, and without a moment's hesitation, he snatched the angel's earlobe and squeezed. "Let. Him. Go." His voice was a snarl of impatience.
Balthazar backed off of Sam, releasing a whimper of pain. "Ow! What the bloody hell was that? You do know this vessel is fragile?"
"Melissa feels nothing. I have made sure of that!" He let go of Balthazar. "You will stop pursuing Sam! This ludicrous behaviour ends now! Do you understand?"
Sam cast a furtive glance to his brother. He was holstering the colt. He had listened to Castiel and obeyed his command without even a note of protest. To Sam, this was completely out of character for Dean.
Balthazar's voice hit a higher register than Sam and Dean were used to. "You can't blame me for tryin, can you, Cassie? Not many angels have ever experienced happiness!"
Castiel eyed the angel. Dean was watching him and Sam was watching Dean.
"You have, Balthazar," Castiel argued, "In fact, you told me about all your exploits down here."
Balthazar nodded. "Well, yes, there were all those, but… if you could see your face right now… you would understand what I mean by… happiness." She approached the archangel and pressed her hands on his shoulders. "The angels that persecute you for your… ability are envious of it. There is not one that wouldn't want to feel what you are always feeling, Cas—Me, being among them."
Sam watched as Castiel's expression softened towards Balthazar. "I apologize for my harsh tone, but Sam is not the answer."
"You're right," Balthazar exclaimed, glancing at Dean now. "Dean's the one with the infinite soul."
Dean tensed and shuffled closer to Sam. "Aw hell no! You better back off!"
"I'm just yanking your chain, beefcake."
Dean knotted his fists, but even though he wanted to say something in response to this, he couldn't seem to find his voice.
Castiel glared at Balthazar. Belthazar leaned back, hands slowly rising. "Alright, alright, I won't touch your precious Dean."
The archangel simply shook his head and rolled his eyes. He was relieved to find that Dean was not particularly interested in Balthazar's attractive vessel. The relief waned at the concern now gnawing at him from the inside. Dean wasn't sleeping. He was drinking a lot more than was necessary on a hunt, and the creases across his forehead was a sure sign of stress and anxiety.
"You've gotta take off, don't you?" Dean said in a voice tainted by exhaustion and guilt. "Bet there's a crap load of archangel work to do now that Michael…" Dean swallowed hard, refusing to look Castiel in the eye. Michael, Castiel realized, watching the hunter as he kicked a few pebbles aside with the toe of his boot.
Sam, noticing the air laden with tension between hunter and archangel, lifted the plastic bag up and declared, "I'm just gonna get this stuff inside. Your pie will be in the fridge, Dean."
"And I will join you," Balthazar chimed, following Sam to the door of the motel. "Nobody likes an uncomfortable situation, and I have a sudden yearning for a piece of that pie."
Dean rounded on Balthazar. "You even so much as touch that pie…"
"Okay, okay. I won't touch the pie."
Soon, both Sam and Balthazar were holed up inside the motel room. Dean exchanged worried glances with Castiel. "Balthazar ain't gonna…"
"No," Castiel cut in, "Even while I am out here, I can still see everything he is doing. He will not touch Sam Winchester unless he wishes to incur my wrath."
"No one would want that, Cas."
Silence fell between them thick and heavy until Castiel finally spoke. "You are not sleeping. You drink at odd times throughout the day. You look… awful, Dean…"
"Thanks for your honesty," Dean grumbled, "Like I keep telling Sam, I'm fine."
"Then you are lying," Castiel stated, tilting his head just a little before continuing, "I did tell you that you are not to blame for Michael's death, so why do you continue to dwell on it?"
"I'm not dwelling on anything! And just for the record, we both know it was my fault!"
"What makes you say that?"
"Look, if I wasn't this infinite… whatever, your brother would be back in Heaven and not God knows where!"
Castiel approached the hunter and stood stock still once he had come close enough to see Dean's pupils. Dean no longer had a problem with Castiel's proximity; they had been closer than this, but something about this particular time caused Dean to cross his arms.
"If you blame your infinite soul than it is only fair that I am to blame for what happened to Michael since I am the reason your soul is… infinite." Castiel expected these words to have no effect on the stubborn hunter, but he was wrong.
Dean dropped his arms as though Castiel had slapped him. "You know that's not what I meant…"
"I am simply trying to understand the logic behind the reason you blame yourself," Castiel explained with a shrug. "I would really rather you blame me if it allows you to sleep."
"Cas…"
"Will you let me ease your suffering?" Castiel asked, gazing at the bewildered hunter.
"How?" Dean asked apprehensively, shrinking back in his chair. "You gonna mind wipe me? Make me forget everything—forget—you?"
"No," Castiel whispered.
Dean relaxed a little. "You gonna kiss me?" he questioned, an eyebrow arching.
"No. Close your eyes," the angel ordered.
"I won't mind," Dean admitted, doing as he was told. "Seriously, I'm okay with it."
Castiel laughed. "Shut up, Dean." With this last command, he pressed a hand to the hunter's forehead, holding it there as he murmured enochian words to give Dean the serenity he was lacking. Slowly, the hunter's shoulders fell as tension was eased out of his muscles.
"This is better than a massage," Dean admitted, eyes still closed.
"It is an angel's version of a… massage."
"Oh…" Dean gurgled contentedly.
"You have no reason to carry so much blame and self-hatred over situations you had no control over. You deserve to be at peace with all those feelings. I do not blame you. The world does not blame you. So please… desist from blaming yourself." Remembering what Balthazar had accused him of, he practised self-control and instead pressed a kiss to the hunter's forehead.
"I must go. There is more work to be done, and I do not wish to leave Balthazar alone with Sam a minute longer than is needed. Castiel brought both hands to Deans' cheeks just as his eyes opened slowly. "Do you… feel better, Dean?"
"I feel like a brand new man, Cas. What the hell did you do?"
"I eased you of all your feelings of guilt, of anguish, of blame. You harbour those feelings for no other reason than that you have taken accountability for circumstances beyond your control."
"Being with an angel has its advantages," Castiel said with a warm smile, and vanished in a flap of wings.
Unable to keep his feet on the ground, he practically floated back to the motel where Sam was busy reading something on his tablet. "Dean?"
Dean acknowledged Sam with a wave, walked to the fridge, pulled out his pie, and scowled. A slice of pie was missing. "Friggin angels!" he growled.
All their leads had gone cold. The local police in Helena, Idaho had no clue who the monster behind the gruesome murders was. The FBI were on it, but Sam's search revealed that they were just as stumped as the police. The brothers had only one goal now, and that was to keep Jareth and his wife, Molly safe.
The drive was uncomfortable, though. Dean squirmed under the watchful gaze of his brother who could not determine the cause for Dean's new and upbeat attitude change.
"What?" Dean ordered when Sam had been staring him down much too long.
"You um… you seem different," Sam said, knowing that Dean wasn't going to spill the beans that easy. It was going to take a lot of prodding to get him to talk.
"Well, I'm not," Dean responded. "Can we focus on the job?"
Sam nodded, but something was missing from his brother's usual gait—he was relaxed, his eyes no longer revealed the torment he always inflicted on himself. Dean started the car and pulled out of the motel parking lot. Sam continued to watch all his brother's movements for any sign of stress, but there was none.
"Come on, dude, you're freakin me out," Dean admitted, glancing over at Sam warily. "What the hell are you lookin for?"
"You," Sam replied, examining Dean steadily.
"I'm sittin right here!"
"What did Cas do to you? Did he… mind wipe you?"
"No," Dean mumbled. "Would you stop it, already?"
"Do you remember Hell?"
"Yes."
"Lisa and Ben?"
"Yes!"
"Alison? Michael? Cas's attempt to become the new God?"
Dean pulled the car to the curb, put it in park and grabbed his brother's shoulders. "Cas didn't mind wipe me! I remember all the crap that happened! He just…" the stammer of hesitance caused Sam's heart to leap. Why was Dean keeping secrets from him? Eventually, Dean surrendered.
"He used some of his mojo to uh… to ease my… suffering… if you can believe it."
"Like… an angel massage?" Sam said.
"Exactly," Dean exclaimed.
"I don't get it, Dean."
Dean shrugged, "What don't you get, Sammy?"
"How you ended up scoring with an angel."
Dean laughed. "You had your chance," he joked, leaning over to nudge his brother's arm.
"I never had a chance."
Sam grinned but it felt stiff on his face. Dean said nothing as they made their way down the road towards their destination. Sam leaned his head back and shut his eyes. He was remembering the discussion he and Cas had with the succubus that had siphoned out all of Dean's energy. He remembered the succubus telling them that, even though Cas was a prominent presence, so was he. So what did that mean? Why would the succubus add "for obvious reasons" after disclosing this information? Why was it bothering him now, six months later? A significantly painful punch to his shoulder awoke him from his pondering thoughts.
"We're here," Dean remarked with a laugh. "Where the hell did ya go, dude? I was callin you."
Sam shook his head, climbing out of the car. "I was just… thinkin," he muttered.
Before Dean could question his brother any further, they were greeted by two familiar faces. "Did Bobby let you know we were comin?" Dean asked, advancing towards the demon and his wife. Sam was still apprehensive about this new friendship since he too believed that demons were liars and did not have the capability or the will power to overcome the urge to perform evil acts. Ruby was a prime example of the naivety of hunters in response to a demon's ability to manipulate. Sam had to admit, however, that this demon was unlike any they had ever met before. Jareth was a self-sacrificing husband and father with framed photos all over the walls of his modest bungalow. His wife, Molly really did love and admire Jareth, and she also knew what he was even before she had conceived Alison. Upon sight of Dean, Molly let out an excited yelp and raced towards him, hugging around his neck.
"You must be an angel," she cooed into his shoulder.
"Not… an angel," Dean choked.
"My husband is still alive because you… you would not abandon him. That terrible woman shot you!"
Dean did not know what had happened afterward or even how everything had worked out while he was out of commission. "We haven't seen that hunter around," Dean admitted, "did she… just take off or…"
"Don't you know?" she laughed, backing off from Dean to stand proudly next to Jareth.
"Not really. Gunshots tend to put me out."
Molly smiled, gazing up at her husband. "It was a man in a trench coat who saved you. He appeared out of thin air, pressed one hand to that rotten hunter's forehead and she immediately passed out. Bobby explained that he was your guardian angel. Imagine having your own guardian angel. I mean—obviously, Bobby was not being literal, but…"
"He was being literal," Dean admitted, gripping his chest with this new knowledge. "Are you saying that Cas played the part of hero to your husband?"
"Cas?" Molly repeated incredulously. "Is that his name?"
"Castiel," Dean corrected. "His friends call him Cas."
Molly beamed, but Jareth spoke before she could. "He said it was against everything he stood for but that he was unwilling to disagree with the majority on the part of my innocence."
Dean's gaze met Sam's. Both were bewildered by what Castiel had done despite what his brothers taught him to believe.
"He understood that what you were doing was right. You never sacrifice yourself unless it is a cause worth dying for, which is why he abandoned his belief," Jareth explained further. "I assume this… Castiel… is a good friend?"
Dean nodded, but could say nothing. He was gripping his chest tighter now afraid that his heart would burst straight through his chest.
"Are you coming inside?" Molly asked to the two hunters.
Sam joined her, but Dean hadn't moved. "Dean?" he called.
"I uh… yeah… I'll meet ya in there, Sammy."
"I made Iced Tea," Molly added with a smile meant to tempt him. "And coffee cake. I understand you like coffee cake."
"He's more of a pie man," Sam corrected with a laugh.
"I'll be right in," Dean promised with an encouraging smile to Molly. With her arm around the shoulders of her husband, the couple followed by Sam, headed into the house.
Dean stood there for nearly a minute before closing his eyes. "Cas, I know you're probably busy, but I just… need a sec."
The angel didn't appear when Dean opened his eyes, but he refused to move without doing what needed to be done. "Cas," he called again. "Don't make me start thinkin at ya."
At the sound of fluttering wings, Dean turned abruptly to meet the angel face to face. "One second, Dean," Castiel bargained. "Is this terribly important?"
"Yeah, Cas. Did you risk more Heaven hatred by protecting Jareth?"
Castiel blinked. "I was simply performing a duty to you and your brother."
"You don't protect demons," Dean argued softly.
"He isn't like any regular demon. It would be wrong of me to kill a creature that is clearly incapable of performing evil." Castiel shoved his hands in his pockets. "You taught me that it's not all black and white—that sometimes there is… gray."
Dean could no longer fight back the smile. "I just… wanna say… thanks."
Castiel relaxed. "What is a little extra animosity from my brothers and sisters? Besides, it was the least I could do for putting Alison's life at risk."
"Cas…"
"I have to go, Dean. It has already been longer than one second."
Dean nodded. "Sure…right… you've got stuff to do. I just wanted to say… thanks, again."
Castiel's expression relaxed into a small smile. "You're welcome, Dean."
The sound of rushing wings caused Dean's heart to sink a little. He felt good being able to thank Castiel for his risky assistance with a demon, but with Castiel acting the sherrif in Heaven, he saw him for a few seconds at most in a month. He turned to make his way to the house but was caught off guard by two glowing blue eyes penetrating his. The natural reaction to this invasion of personal space used to be a quip about it before the hunter took several steps back. However, this personal space no longer belonged to him. He had willingly given this angel a piece of his soul, so the closer the better. "I will have to explain to Jimmy that he is not committing any kind of adulterous sin," Castiel admitted.
"Why would you…"
The words were cut off by a kiss. The abruptness of the kiss did not allow Dean to close his eyes in time and so simply stared at the angel in shock when he finally parted from him. "Are you alright… Dean?" Castiel asked when the hunter was unable to speak.
"You wanna give me some warnin before you go doin that?" Dean snapped.
"That would lack the element of surprise," Castiel said in a cool reflexive voice and not a hint that he was joking.
"Angels," Dean muttered.
"Humans," Castiel retorted with an exaggerated eye roll. They smiled at the same time.
Sam acknowledged the sound of the door opening and turned to find Dean standing in the entryway to the living room.
Jareth's eyes lifted to the content hunter, eyebrows arching with his suspicions. "I may be the world's friendliest monster, but I do still hear rumours," he admitted.
Molly stood almost as if this was her cue to leave. "I'm just going to get some snacks," she excused before kissing her husband's cheek and making her way swiftly out of the living room.
"You know about the infinite soul?" Dean questioned, leaning against the wall.
"I know a lot more than that."
Sam was readying himself, glad that he had packed the demon killing knife before leaving Bobby's. "What else do you know?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam who refused to give away his intentions.
Jareth's shoulders lifted. "I know that an angel is in love with you. I know that it's not just love—it's actually true love, a form of love so rare that winning the lottery is more likely than achieving it. What's more—angels are supposed to be incapable of feeling any human emotion so an angel possessing true love for a human is… the final ingredient in creating the infinite soul. Therefore, you're the infinite soul."
"I gotta say this, Jareth, you're well informed," Dean admitted. "Now, you gonna try your hand at stealing it?"
Jareth turned to the smallest movement of Sam's fingers, tugging the knife loose. "Put it away, Sam, I have no intention of stealing Dean's soul," Jareth said.
"And we should believe you, why?" Sam growled, gripping around the handle of the knife now.
"Because he and his angel companion saved my life. My idiot species may be power hungry but I believe power lies in the relationships you create not in the ones you fake."
"Smart demon," Dean quipped.
"I've survived a long time, Dean. I only now have found true happiness."
"In the body of your human host," Sam said.
"My human host had been attacked by my kind thirteen years ago. I tried to save him, but I was powerless as a black cloud of smoke. I asked the host to allow me passage—to save him, but his response was too slow, and I never made it in time. That is when I learned of his wife, awaiting his return. I went to her and offered her all I had—honesty. She was upset, but I promised to remain as her protection. I knew that once the demons discovered that they had not truly killed this man, they would find him and try again. I took it upon myself to protect Molly, even when the impending apocalypse sent many demons to our door, but I refused to join them in supporting Lucifer's return. When Alison was born, I and my wife had her baptized."
"Which is why the holy water didn't hurt her," Dean realized out loud.
"We taught her to be good, to be moral, to be honest. I taught her what it meant to be half-demon, but first and foremost, I taught her to love, not hate. I explained that true power comes from love; hatred results in weakness."
Sam had released the handle of his knife. "Do you have any idea who might wanna take out three women?"
"I have a lot of enemies, Sam," Jareth admitted. "My own kind despises me for my betrayal."
"Then you and Cas have somethin in common," Dean remarked.
Jareth nodded. "I understand that he is the only one of all the angels who can… feel human emotions."
"Yep, and the freaks upstairs bully him for it."
"Except for one," Sam chimed in, looking from Dean's face to the demon's, "Balthazar."
"A curious douchenozzle," Dean commented, "but still Cas's only ally."
Jareth got up from the couch. "Look, I wanna help in any way I can to stop whoever it is from killing innocent people."
"Well, first we have to find out who it is," Dean admitted. "Which we will, but you need to stay on lockdown. If our outlaw is a demon with a major grudge against you, then it's not safe for you to be wanderin around."
"I am not afraid of my own kind, Dean," Jareth said.
"They're master manipulators, Jareth. I'm sure all they wanna do is rip you out of your apple pie life!"
Molly had returned with a tray, but she was gazing at Jareth in concern. "Stay here," she insisted, walking to place the tray of coffee cakes on the coffee table. "Listen to these boys, and please just stay here and let them protect you."
Jareth gazed into his wife's pleading eyes before taking her small hand. "I will… of course I will."
"We'll demon-proof this place, make sure none of your former drinkin buddies get in," Dean suggested, heading for the kitchen. Sam had another idea, one that would almost certainly guarantee the rare demon's safety. He escaped the house, stood on the walkway, bent his head and called:
"Balthazar, it's Sam. If you have a minute…"
"I always have a minute for you, big boy," teased the angel from behind him.
Sam turned to face the angel. Balthazar stood there still in the female vessel, blond hair being whipped about her face almost unnaturally. "This is serious, Balthazar. Jareth is the only demon to give a damn about humanity and now someone or something is killing people and framing him for it."
Balthazar laughed. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but Jareth is a demon. I know your former boyfriend would have been all cuddly towards him, but I don't share his enthusiasm."
"We just need you to keep an eye on him for a little bit while Dean and I go check things out."
"He doesn't need an angel support group, Sam," Balthazar argued. "He's a bloody demon! I don't support demons!"
"Cas does!"
"Cas would blow off Heaven, and apparently he has, for Dean, so that argument doesn't fly."
Sam groaned. "This is important, Belthazar!"
"So is my livelihood, Sam—in fact that, to me, is more important than some demon with a soul. Sorry, hun, I can't help you." In a rush of wings, the angel was gone, leaving Sam to question anything good he may have thought about the selfish angel.
Dean was leaving the house when he paused at the sight of his brother with his head bowed in defeat. "Hey, Sammy, what's with the pity party?"
Sam lifted his head. "I asked Belthazar for help, but… apparently, the only good angel is yours."
Dean narrowed his eyes on the hunter. "You asked that dick for help? You do know he only helps Cas, and even that's on occasion?"
Sam shrugged. "I just thought… never mind. Do we have any leads on the actual killer?"
"Besides a fistful of demons willing to tear Jareth a new one and our flimsy theory that the douche is human, not really."
"So, what now?" Sam asked as they walked back to the Impala.
"We wait. Unfortunately, it's all we can do since all our leads keep bringing us back to square one." Dean replied, climbing in behind the wheel. "In the meantime, we continue searching and keep an eye on Jareth."
Sam could only nod in agreement as they drove back to the motel.
Castiel had been awaiting Balthazar's return, surprised that the angel had been summoned by the brothers instead of him. Balthazar arrived moments later clearing his throat. "Alright, Cassie, time to…"
"What did Sam want?" Castiel cut in, confronting his comrade.
"You don't wanna hear about that," Balthazar laughed, and dismissed the question with a wave.
"Yes… I do, Balthazar," Castiel said. "Was it important? Is he… okay?"
"Well, he's not happy with me," Balthazar replied.
"Why?"
"Because, unlike you, I have set standards, and I do not put my rep on the line for a demon."
Castiel placed a hand on the angel's shoulder with a sufficient amount of pressure. "Sam called to ask for your help in protecting Jareth?"
"Ridiculous, I know," Balthazar sighed.
"No," Castiel argued. "Jareth is not like other demons. Even one like him is rare, and it is imperative that he is kept safe from any threat."
"Give me a break, Cassie," Balthazar mumbled.
"Come with me," Castiel demanded, taking Balthazar's arm and teleporting them both to Jareth's front door. With a gentle knock, he heard a sudden scuffling from inside. He did not even contemplate his next move. With Balthazar's arm still gripped, he teleported them both inside.
"Don't do it," demanded the booming voice of the demon Jareth. "I mean it! You will pay, I swear to you!"
"Oh please do," taunted a voice Castiel didn't recognize.
"Balthazar, please… take Molly out of here."
"We shouldn't even be here, Cas. You could get both our asses banished!"
"I have never cared about banishment!" Castiel snapped.
"You should! I had to save you once before, didn't I? Do you want to end up in Hell with our psycho brother?"
"Molly is human, Balthazar," Castiel appealed, staring into the angel's eyes. "She is not a demon or a monster; she's human and she has more faith in Jareth's innocence than any of us. She will die for it."
Balthazar made a face. "That was an unfair card to play, brother," she muttered.
"It's the only card I have," Castiel murmured. "If we are found out, I will take accountability. My reputation has already been tarnished, what is a bit more rust."
"You know, Cas, you are too good for your own… well… good."
"Thank you."
Balthazar admired Castiel, a best friend and brother for being so damn brave all the time, for taking risks despite what consequences they would have. Castiel had given his life for so many causes; he had given his life for Dean and Sam countless times. He really was the angel worth envying. Maybe true love stemmed from these attempts to be the ultimate good guy? Perhaps happiness would be in reach if Balthazar just took a chance and helped someone else for a change. A shot rang through the small house, causing Balthazar to teleport into the living room where he watched Castiel rise, gazing down at the bullet hole burned into his starched shirt. There was no blood.
The culprit jerked his gun back to try a second time when Balthazar emerged behind him, snatching the weapon out of his hands. "Make love not war," she murmured, pulling the harmless man around to face her. She figured she would be seeing the empty vessel occupied by a demon as demonstrated by black, empty eyes, but this prat was human. "Are you serious?" she howled out loud. "What in the bleedin hell is wrong with you?"
"He's a hunter," announced a voice from the doorway.
"And he's famous." That voice belonged to Dean.
"For what?" Balthazar scoffed.
"For offing the Winchesters," Sam replied in a gritty tone.
Balthazar glanced over at Castiel who was nodding. "Well, okay then! This story just keeps getting better."
Dean strolled into the living room, long silver pistol raised to aim at the famous hunter. "Hey, Walt, long time, no see."
"You just keep comin back, don't you? You and your brother are like weeds," Walt remarked.
"Where's your butt buddy?" Dean snapped, readying the pistol with a click.
Walt was grinning. "Behind you," he hissed.
Castiel was there in seconds, taking out Walt's partner with one touch to the back of his head. The hunter passed out on the spot. Dean took one step forward and was just about to pull the trigger when Castiel's hand landed on his arm. "Dean, no."
"He killed my brother, Cas; he killed me. I made them both a promise that I was comin for 'em! This is just perfect timing."
"I will take care of these two… humans. Please… just take Molly and Jareth out of here."
"Cas…"
"Go or I will have no choice but to use force."
Dean cast one look at the pathetic hunter before leaving with the rest.
"Where you gonna go from here?" Sam asked Jareth and Molly unable to look at Balthazar for fear he might actually feel something for the angel who had just helped a demon despite her claims that her rep might be ruined.
"I suggest a safe house," Dean advised.
"I guess we will have to leave here, but hiding? Neither one of us should have to give up our common routine because of some… hunters."
Dean nodded. "I agree, but sometimes, we gotta make sacrifices for the ones we…"
A loud crack interrupted Dean's words, and the small woman next to Jareth sank to the ground, gripping her stomach. "One down," growled a voice, "one to go."
Jareth rounded on the hunter, attacking with a voice of rage. To the surprise of both brothers, Balthazar put the hunter out with one touch, and grabbed around the demon's waist, yanking him back. "You're coming with me, sweetheart."
"No," Jareth screamed, but in a whish of wind and wings, they were gone.
"Balthazar," Sam hollered, but he received no response. "Belle!"
Dean was facing the hunter who had just shot Molly in cold blood. He raised the pistol when a flash of light temporarily blinded them all. "Cas," Dean screamed, keeping both arms over his face.
"Don't move," ordered the voice of Balthazar between the crouching brothers.
"What about you?" Sam asked from beneath his arms.
"Honey, I'm not affected by the light of an angel. I'm surprised you care."
Sam's voice was muffled. "Where's Jareth?"
"In a safe place," Balthazar replied, placing a hand on the hunter's head. With that last action, she went to the dying Molly and pressed two hands to her chest where the bullet had gone through. "You're alright," she whispered over the woman's pale face.
"Belle," she remembered, reaching both hands up as though to try and touch the angel.
"I'm going to bring you to your husband as soon as you've healed, which should be in just a few minutes." Balthazar promised, taking Molly's hands gently
"Balthazar," Dean called as the light began to fade. "What the hell… happened?"
Balthazar stood alone; Molly was gone. "An angel died," she whispered solemnly.
The light that Balthazar had seen in Dean's face had been eliminated by this statement. "Cas was the only angel in there."
"I know," Balthazar whispered.
Before anyone could stop him, Dean was up and running towards the house.
Sam's voice echoed behind him. "Dean!"
Dean pushed open the door to stand on the threshold. Shadows met him, attempted to swallow him whole as he took one heavy step at a time. Debris lay all over the floor, creating a pathway to the living room. "Cas?" he called. Anything made of glass had been shattered; scattered fragments of mirrors and picture frames and windows littered the floor. "Cas!"
A rush of wings forced him around, crushing glass under his boots. "Hello, Dean," the angel said in his usual tone of nonchalance.
"Cas," Dean choked, "You're not dead…"
"No," replied the angel, "but one of my brothers is."
"Your brothers?"
"He possessed the body of the hunter, Walt, in order to, in his words, make a point."
Dean shook his head. "What point?"
"That I am a traitor who protects demons." Castiel dropped his weapon to the floor. "I am no longer welcome in Heaven and all the angels wish to strip me of my title, but unfortunately, none hold authority to do as such."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine, you'll stay with us at Bobby's."
"I can't… Dean. I still have a job to do…"
"Screw the job, Cas! Screw all those dicks!"
"I'm not doing this for them," Castiel admitted, bowing his head slowly. "I'm doing this for…" he faltered.
"Who? God? Seriously? He won't even pull his damn head out of the sand!" Dean stormed.
"He's still my father," the angel argued weakly.
"He doesn't care, Cas! If he cared, you wouldn't be treated like the freakin plague in your own home! If he cared…"
"Stop," Castiel demanded.
Dean did stop, realizing his crucial error. "Cas…"
"I know he doesn't care," Castiel started, "I know that I waste every breath on the belief that he might possibly give a damn about me, but I have to, Dean. I have to believe in him even if all the humans on this planet don't, even if you… don't." With that, he was gone.
"Cas," he called, staring at the ceiling of the destroyed house. "Come on, Cas! I'm sorry!" He kicked debris in his frustration. "Cas!" he tried again. "Damnit," he mumbled, leaving to find Sam and Balthazar standing on the walkway waiting for him.
"Where's… Cassie?" Balthazar asked hesitantly, examining Dean. "Is he…"
"Alive. And he uh… he left already," Dean replied.
Balthazar perked right up upon hearing this. "Well then that's my cue. Goodnight, ladies."
"Wait," Sam called, grabbing the angel's sleeve. "Are you gonna tell us where you stashed Jareth and Molly at least?"
Balthazar grinned. "Nope. Better that no one knows their location. Trust me, Sam, they are both in good hands.
Sam nodded, revealing a smile. "Thanks… Balthazar… I mean, Belle."
Balthazar's grin widened. "Aww Sam, you make me blush like a school girl." With that, she was gone.
The two returned to Bobby's, both exhausted and worn out. They left the car, but Sam looked a little reluctant to go inside. "I was thinkin of gettin a drink, maybe grabbin a burger. You want anything?"
Dean shook his head, tossing the keys to his brother. "Nah. I'm just gonna crash."
"Dean?" Sam called as Dean hurried across the salvage yard to the house.
"Not right now, Sam," Dean called back.
"Later then?"
"Yeah," Dean agreed.
Sam watched his brother's retreating back until the door had closed behind him. He drove the Impala to the closest bar, went straight to the only bartender in the place and ordered himself a purple nurple. It was never too late to try one and Dean had given them the thumb's up since their first ever collision with the archangel, Gabriel, back when he had assumed the identity of a demi-god better known as the trickster. Sitting several stools down from him was Balthazar—still in her female vessel, still in the same striking attire. Sam would never tell the angel what he thought of the mini-skirt and halter combo nor would he attempt to compliment her on makeup, but he did owe Balthazar- Belle a debt of thanks for placing Molly and Jareth in Witness Protection, despite what that action could possibly do to her reputation up in Heaven. Perhaps she would be shunned just like Castiel was. He walked over and tapped the angel on the shoulder.
"Well, if it isn't Sam Winchester come to call," Balthazar proclaimed without turning around. "Fancy meetin you here."
"You too, Belle," Sam responded, stealing the seat next to the angel. "Are you drinking anything?"
"They don't have the good stuff here," she replied with a shrug.
"Wanna try a purple nurple?" Sam offered.
"Why yes I would, thanks. Are you buying?"
Sam nodded with a smile. "I figured I owed you after what you did tonight."
"Right, the demon, sure, sure. That was no big thing, Sammy. Honestly, bein an angel has its perks. I can do somethin completely traitorous and not feel a damn thing. It's… what's the word you and your brother use? Awesome?"
Sam collected his purple nurple from the waitress and slid it over to the angel before asking for three more. "Drink," he insisted.
Balthazar swiped the shot off the bar and downed it, slamming the glass back down with a loud crack. "Awesome," she repeated.
"What you did wasn't traitorous, Belle," Sam started in a compassionate murmur, "You saved two innocent people from being slaughtered."
"Of course I did. And that's exactly how the angels upstairs are gonna see it, too."
"Look, you did the right thing."
"Sure, sure."
Sam received the next three shots, sliding them all over to Balthazar. "Drink fast," he advised.
The angel did so, slamming one glass down after another then wiping her mouth on a napkin "Absolutely wonderful," she exclaimed.
"Three more," Sam ordered with a smile to the waitress who glanced twice at Balthazar before leaving to take the orders of two more patrons.
The angel looked over at him, eyes glassy and uncertain. "I just wanna feel something. I've been riding Cas's shadow, hoping to pick up some tips. Honestly, if I could have a chat with our father, I would ask why he granted only one of us with the capability to… feel."
"Feeling is a lot more trouble than it's worth," Sam said, pressing a hand to the angel's back. "You suffer with guilt, shame, doubt, hopelessness, uncertainty…."
"Happiness, pleasure, ecstasy, love," Balthazar finished. "Everyone upstairs knows that Anna didn't just huck out her grace for chocolate cake."
The next three shots were lined up in front of Belthazar, but she pushed one to Sam. "Drink with me."
Sam picked up the shot, clinked his glass to Balthazar's raised one, and together they gulped the sweet, plum colored liquid in one swallow. Both glasses came down hard, but only one shattered on impact.
"Good stuff," the angel laughed, lifting her sliced finger. "Bet that's supposed to hurt like a bitch, isn't it?"
"I need a band-aide," Sam told the bartender, wrapping up Belthazar's finger in a napkin. She continued to laugh.
"It will heal, Sammy. No need to get all wound up over it."
The bartender handed Sam a band-aide before cleaning up the broken glass. Sam unwrapped the angel's finger, but the bleeding hadn't even ebbed a little. "Belle, I thought you healed a lot faster than this," he hissed, putting pressure on the wound now.
"If I want to heal fast, I will heal fast," Balthazar remarked with a shrug.
"And you don't," Sam guessed, checking on the wound every few minutes.
"Do you know that I would cut out my grace right now if Cas didn't need me like a heartbeat?"
Sam tugged the angel off her stool and guided her through the bar to the washroom. He kept the wounded finger under a stream of cold water until he was certain that the bleeding had slowed enough for him to apply the band-aide. The angel laughed again, staring down at the wrapped finger.
"All that for a minor cut? Humans are ridiculous, aren't they?"
"If you were human, you would've shown a little more gratitude," Sam remarked.
"Of course, Sam, of course. I'm grateful that you saved me from my life-threatening cut. Glass is definitely my enemy."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Right, well, enjoy the rest of your shots. I'm gonna get goin."
"Sammy," Balthazar laughed. "Don't be like that! We were having fun, weren't we?"
"Goodnight, Balthazar!"
"Oh fine!" Sam left the bar and walked straight to where he had parked the Impala. Before he was able to open the door, though, he heard Balthazar arrive directly behind him. "I just wanted to say thanks for the drinks, and the… first-aide."
"You're welcome, Belle," Sam replied, opening the driver's side door with a creak.
"Okay, good. I have shots waiting for me inside, so…"
"Belle," Sam called to Balthazar's shoulder.
She turned just a little to face him. "Yeah, Sam?"
"You did an amazing thing, tonight." Balthazar's smile was sudden, only widening when Sam added, "And I have to admit, you're lookin good."
"Thanks, Sam." The angel nudged Sam a little, her grin becoming coy, "so was this sort of like… a date?"
Sam laughed. "You consider sharing a couple shots a date?"
"I dunno… maybe. From what I understand about dates: they are supposed to end differently. They don't usually end with the girl scaring the guy off."
Sam shut the car door. "Not usually no."
"If I want a boyfriend, I have to be nicer, don't I? And if I want a human boyfriend, I need to be more sensitive."
"Yeah… probably," Sam agreed. "Need a ride?" he asked, knowing what the angel's answer would be but knew she would at least appreciate the offer.
"Nah, I gotta act as back-up to Cas up there," the angel replied, gesturing upward.
"Alright."
"Alright."
Sam opened the car door again. "So I'm just gonna head back to Bobby's."
"Good, good."
Sam sighed heavily, knowing that the angel was waiting to experience the end of the date. Instead of leaving her high and dry, he shut the door again, walked around the Impala, pressed his hands to the angel's face, leaned down and kissed her. It had been awhile since he had kissed anyone, and was surprised at how easy it was. He meant for the kiss to be short, quick, simple; it wasn't any of the above. He had the small framed girl pinned to the impala, one hand cupped around her ear, the other cradling her neck. Almost as if they realized their engagement at the same time, they jerked apart.
"So uh… so that was good," Belthazar commented.
"Yeah…" Sam panted, smoothing his hair back.
"I gotta go, but… call me sometime, big boy," she said before patting his ass and abruptly vanishing.
Sam climbed into the Impala, shaking as he stuck the keys into the ignition. He wasn't really looking forward to telling Dean what had just happened or even why he did nothing to prevent it.