Dean sat on his bed, leaning against the headboard, flicking idly through the simple TV. Crap, crap, crap, hot chick? Nope, bow flex commercial. Crap, crap, ooo, Dr. Sexy M.D.

He lost himself in the familiarity of the show, forgetting his problems as he let himself become awash in the fictional lives before him. When the program drew to a close Dean allowed his eyes to settle on the rooms other occupants. Sam and Castiel were at the table going through an ancient book. It was written in a language unrecognizable to Sam and Dean, but, of course, Castiel was quite fluent. The two had worked out a system, Cas read aloud, reading Sam's mind to know when to go back and repeat a passage, or when to skip ahead to the next page, and Sam was copying important sentences and phrases, musing aloud his interpretations of the archaic terminology.

Dean's eyes lingered on Castiel. He was sitting in just the right spot, light from the window behind him lending him an unearthly glow. He was beautiful.

Seeming to know he was being watched, Cas looked up and locked eyes with Dean. Dean lost himself in an ocean of blue. It was only for a moment before the angel was once more engaged in the book, but the tightness Dean felt in his chest didn't fade. Oh this was bad. Jumping an angel while his brother was in the room was definitely a bad idea. Hell, jumping an angel in general was bad. Consciously he knew that anyway; he kept telling himself it wasn't a good idea, but he was always bad at listening to logic, and he continued to pine for blue eyes.

Dean shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts of the angel. Another episode of Dr. Sexy began. This time the show didn't do much for him, he couldn't focus on the flashing images when perfection sat on the other side of the room. Giving up, he stood and grabbed his jacket.

"I'm gonna go grab food."

Castiel looked at him with a tilted head, and Sam gave him a brief acknowledgement, and then Dean was out the door.

He decided on a diner at the other end of town, letting the peace of the drive clear his head.

It took him twenty minutes to reach his destination. He went inside and grabbed a menu, quickly selecting enough food for him and his brother. The waitress smiled flirtatiously as she copied down his order. "Anything else, darlin'?"

A cocky grin spread across Dean's face. He looked up, and the witty remark died on his tongue as he met her dark blue eyes. He sputtered, for a moment before he regained himself, "uh… oh. Yeah," his eyes flicked down a page of desserts, "How's the cherry pie?" The waitress grinned, "Best in town." "Sounds great, I'll take it." The waitress sauntered back to the kitchen, and Dean sat at the counter, his mind conjuring the image of Castiel sitting at the table, bathed in light, looking up at him with big blue eyes…

He didn't hear the waitress return, and jumped when she touched his shoulder. She placed a large bag in front of him, "Will that be all hun?" Dean nodded, and the waitress handed him the bill, winked, and went to help another patron. Dean looked at the bill and noted the waitresses' phone number at the bottom. He chuckled, paid, and left.

When he returned Sam was alone, pacing. He dropped the bag of food onto the small table next to the old book. He noticed a piece of paper marking a page.

"Dude, keep that up and you'll wear a hole in the carpet."

Sam paused, considered his brother and resumed his pacing.

Dean snagged a burger and bit into it loudly. "Seriously. What?"

Sam sighed and ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Man, this sucks."

Dean raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but remained silent. After a moment Sam sat down opposite his brother. He eyed the bag of food, before looking away.

"It pains me to ask this, but what's wrong?"

Sam sighed, and viciously grabbed his share of the food. "Okay, Cas and I might have found something…."

Dean grinned around his burger, "Isn't that good? What we were trying to do in the first place?"

Sam picked at the food in front of him, shredding a piece of bread. "I don't know man. Cas has an idea... A really, really bad one. You are not going to like it."

Dean carefully swallowed, and cast his eyes around the room "Yeah, where is he anyway?"

Sam leaned back in his chair. "He's uh… you know, I don't really know." Finally he met Deans eyes. "We read that book cover to cover three times, we found some relevant passages, and Cas was right man, it described a weapon that we might be able to use against Lucifer, some really old knife. Like an angel version of Ruby's knife. Cas says if we can get him close to it he'd be able to sense it."

Dean regarded his brother. Sam seemed disheveled, worried even. Dean shook his head, "Dude, how is this a bad thing? We found a way to kick Luci's ass hard and you're depressed? Shouldn't we be, oh I don't know, celebrating?" Dean grinned and nudged his brother with his foot.

Sam stood abruptly and started pacing again, "You don't get it Dean. The book says that the demon who has it only ever brings it out when there's an all out angel versus demon battle."

"So we just have to find some fight, get Cas in close enough to ID the right guy and get out. Really man, this sounds like a good thing, maybe our luck is finally turning."

Dean's grin faded at his brothers unimpressed expression. "No, it isn't that easy. Cas cant just interrupt the fight, come on Dean, after Lucifer, he's the next most wanted. Both sides would just try to kill him! And that's if we can even find the fight. Cas says that usually he'd go seek 'revelation' and they'd just tell him where to go, but since he's been cut off he has to try to tap into angel radio without getting found out. That's where he is dude. He didn't want them to know where we are if he gets caught."

"He's doing what?! And you let him?? Jesus Sammy, couldn't we have just called up Gabe and asked him?"

"Yeah we thought about that, but there aren't any reports of deaths matching the Trickster profile anywhere in the country, and Cas didn't want to wait."

Dean left his burger unfinished, shoving it back into the bag. He'd lost his appetite. "So we're just going to sit here and pray Cas comes back ok? That sounds like a crap plan Sam, come on, I thought you were supposed to be the smart brother."

"Dean, even cut off from Heaven Cas is way stronger than either of us. How was I supposed to stop him?" He grunted and fell back onto his bed. "And I wouldn't suggest praying either; we probably shouldn't tip off anyone who might be listening upstairs."

They sat in silence for an uncomfortable minute before Dean sighed and admitted Sam had a point. Cas was a big boy and could make completely idiotic and stupid decisions about his own welfare if he wanted. He moved over to where Sam lay, and situated himself near his brothers head.

He was going to have to say it. He hated saying it. He looked at Sam's face, noted the dark expression and took a deep breath. "Sorry Sammy. You're right, 's not your fault Cas left."

"Damn right" Sam scoffed, but his face lightened.

"So what happens next?"

"You mean if Cas manages to hack into the angels frequency without being discovered, find the orders he's looking for, leave without anyone noticing and come back here? After all that?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right. After that."

"Oh, well then we have to find this battlefield before anything gets under way, take on the entire demon army by ourselves, and then, if we manage to do all that, we have to find this knife and get the hell out of Dodge before the angel army decides they want a piece of us too."

Dean nodded. Of course it couldn't be easy, nothing ever was. "Okay, I have one question."

Sam grinned, "Really? Only one?"

Dean punched his shoulder, "Bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean lay back and contemplated light fixture hanging from the ceiling. "Why don't the angels just come at us while we're fighting the demons? You know, come in from behind while we're busy."

"That's actually why Cas is hacking the system. Apparently angels fight battles a bit differently then humans do. Cas says the angels are going to show up, and that they're just going to stand watch. I think it's to intimidate their enemy or something like that, anyway, point is, none of them are allowed to engage until the guy in charge shows up and leads the initial drive. So if we know when he's going to show up we can just swoop in early and get out quick."

"I don't know man. We're putting a lot of faith into the angels holding off. I'm just not sure if they will if we dangle Cas and you in front of them."

"Come on Dean; remember how obedient Cas used to be? Still is even? Now think about an angel right before a battle. They're probably going to be so focused on waiting for orders that they don't even notice us."

Dean shook his head, "This just sounds like a bad plan Sammy. So much could go wrong."

Sam sat up and eyed Dean. "Since when are you this cautious?"

Dean pondered this, and in lieu of a good answer, grabbed a pillow and attacked his brother. Sam was quick to jump up, grab a pillow of his own and return the assault fiercely. They chased each other around the room, leaping off beds and over chairs, shouting and taunting.

Dean was running with Sam hot on his heels when the elder suddenly stopped, turned, and swung hard at his brothers' head. Sam was quick to duck and the pillow hit the smaller man behind him squarely in the face.

There was a moment of shocked silence, the pillow that had left Dean's hands in the ferocity of the moment now hung limp and dejected from the angels hands. Sam slowly stood from his crouch, and together he and Dean took in the state of the room.

Both the beds had been stripped of their comforters; the sheets were crumpled and had migrated into the crack between the beds and the wall. The bag of food now lay on its side on the floor, whatever had been inside it was squished to a paste. The table was still upright, but the chairs that had been around it were all over turned, one was missing a leg. Feathers covered every available surface; some still hung in the air and were slowly circling downward. One landed in Castiel's hair. Sam and Dean shared a guilty look, and then their eyes flashed to the door, back, and they both ran for it, shoving each other out of the way in the scramble for the door knob. Sam somehow managed to slip out and slam the door behind him leaving Dean alone in the room with Cas.

Dean ducked his head and looked at his angel from under his eye lashes. Cas stood with his head cocked to the side, looking at Dean as though he were trying to figure out the inner workings of the world. Dean felt his face heat under such scrutiny, and he quickly began cleaning up the room. After righting all the chairs, (well, most of them), he quickly glanced back over at Cas. The angel was still watching him with that curious expression. Dean picked up and trashed the bag of food, gave up and stomped back over to his friend. He crossed his arms, locked eyes with the angel and glared. Calm blue eyes searched intense green, neither looked away. Minutes began to tick by, and Dean felt his eye twitch, finally he had to look away and blink. When he looked back he suddenly seemed to notice how close he was standing to Castiel. For a moment he considered taking a step back, but, still feeling rather aggressive from his battle with Sam, reconsidered and instead took a step forward. Cas blinked and tilted his head up, but otherwise did not move. Dean took another step forward, forcing Cas to take one back. And another. And a third.

Confusion clouded Castiel's eyes, "Dean?"

Dean contemplated the angel, allowing his eyes to trace perfectly upswept hair, the serious expression, the slightly undone tie and rumpled shirt. Impulsively, he reached out and fixed the tie. When he finally managed to lock his gaze with the smaller man once more, he discovered himself under similar examination. Unwilling to push the encounter, Dean took a step back, and the tension in the air dissipated.

"Did you find out about the fight?"

Cas easily transitioned into the change in subject. "Yes. There is a confrontation taking place in two days. There is a town located on holy ground and has always been blessed with good fortune and prosperity; a group of demons have decided to drag the town down into chaos and despair. At midnight on the third day Heaven will reign down upon the town, cleansing it of the demon infection."

Dean felt anger rise in his chest, and he viciously cast around the room picking up feathers. "And how many people are going to die in this cleansing?"

"Likely the whole town."

Dean snorted. Of course. Fucking angels; they really were just dicks with wings. "Why not just swoop in early and stop the invasion before anyone gets hurt?"

Cas fixed his eyes on the far wall, and shifted his weight in an oddly human gesture. "They want as many demons in vessels as possible so they can be contained and banished to hell. If they swept in earlier many would get away."

Dean nodded. It made sense in cold and heartless way. "So when do we go in."

"We are not."

"…What? I thought the whole point was to go kick some demon ass before the angels get involved."

"Yes it is." Cas locked eyes with Dean, "But, I will be doing this alone."