On to chapter two! Thanks to everyone who has read so far! Again, this chapter is mostly like the episode with some extras, but we'll be getting to the more AU part soon.

Also… Happy New Year! ^_^

Chapter Two

Castiel walked over to the spot where an angel's wings had burned themselves against the wall as Sam and Dean greeted the bar owner, and began to interview him about the incident. Castiel let them do that. He was in no mood for having to be normal around humans and ask questions that wouldn't get weird looks.

The small hope he'd had before that Benjamin might still be alive was dashed at the sight, and his heart was heavy. Benjamin had called him for help. So many years after they'd last seen each other, but he'd still thought to call for Castiel—he must have really been in danger. And, as usual, Castiel hadn't been able to get there. He'd failed another dear friend, and not only Benjamin but Selene as well. She had been so true to Castiel's friend through these long centuries, letting him use her body as his own, and providing companionship to him. Castiel thought back to his times in the garrison, Benjamin's often snarky comments, but fierce loyalty, and felt, if possible, even worse. Castiel could only repay that loyalty now by finding Benjamin's killer and doing them in. He'd already left Benjamin and the others to their fates before, and now he had done it again. He knew his win saving Sam and Dean had been too good to be true.

"I mean," the bar owner was saying as Castiel finally turned around, feeling suddenly so heavy. "Dead woman, no blood? Come on; and these crazy burn marks? It's a cult thing, right? That's why the FBI are here."

"Get out," Castiel said, almost before he realized he was saying it, striding over to rejoin the others. He needed the bar owner out of here. He needed to think and he couldn't do that with civilians hanging around.

The man looked over at him, surprised, as did Sam and Dean.

"What?" the bar owner asked.

"Get out," Castiel said again, more firmly.

Dean instantly stepped in. "He means we can take it from here, thanks." He started to walk the man outside.

Sam hung back, turning to Castiel with a concerned expression. "Dude, are you all right?"

Castiel shook his head, not even bothering to pretend anymore. "No. No, Benjamin and I, we fought together. He was a gifted soldier, I…I don't know how this could have happened." He caught Dean out of the corner of his eye, looking around the scene before the hunter bent to pick something up.

"Got something," Dean said, walking back over to them, holding an angel blade in his hand. "Looks like we had a little angel on angel action." He flipped the blade around and handed it to Castiel.

Castiel took it and studied the blade, trying to pick up the energy signatures but they weren't familiar. He frowned. "This…isn't Benjamin's blade." He said, with a sinking feeling. He should have known. It was rare that something besides an angel ever killed another angel. But he'd thought the fighting factions had stopped after Metatron's loyalists had been seen to; why would angels be killing each other now?

He was about to voice as much, when a whisper started at the back of his mind, getting louder, coming through angel radio. He winced at the dull ache it produced and tried to concentrate on it, pressing a hand to his temple. It was strange…whoever it was was on angel radio but seemed to be on some backdoor frequency.

"What?" Sam asked, frowning.

Castiel ignored him, listening.

Where are you? The voice whispered. Reveal yourself.

He felt something probing deep into his brain and swiftly pushed it aside, but perhaps not fast enough. He felt it touch his grace, reading him before it swiftly retreated.

He opened his eyes, seeing the Winchesters staring at him incredulously, but he didn't have time to explain. Not when an unfamiliar entity had forced its way into his brain. He didn't know who—what—it was but it wasn't an angel. He hadn't felt a grace signature, and he didn't want to meet up with something else that could hijack angel radio until he knew more about what they were dealing with.

"We have to go," he told the Winchesters. "Now." He strode past them toward the entrance of the bar without further explanation. Sam and Dean shared a look and then hurried after him.

"Cas, what's going on?" Dean demanded once they got back out to the car. "You hear something else on angel radio?"

Castiel finally turned around. "Look, something was on angel radio, but it wasn't an angel. For anyone else to use those waves, they would have to have an extensive knowledge of Enochian magic. Which worries me."

"Okay, so what do we do here?" Dean asked. "What's the next step?"

Castiel bit his lip, considering. He knew what should be done, but he really didn't want to do it. In fact, it was one of the last things he wanted to do, but if it could help him find Benjamin's killer, then he would endure.

"Cas?" Sam asked, again looking concerned.

Castiel sighed heavily. "I think I need to contact some angels from Benjamin's garrison. I don't know how many are still alive, but…they may know something that can help us find out who did this."

Dean raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You wanna bring more angels into this? And what if one of them is the one who ganked your friend?"

"Then I'll be one step closer to returning the favor," Castiel snapped.

"Okay, but, are you sure this is a good idea, Cas?" Sam asked, a little more reasonably.

Castiel sighed again, shaking his head. "No. But I have to do this for Benjamin." He then closed his eyes and sent out a message, targeting all the angels he could think of from his old garrison.

A few seconds later he got a surprised feeling message from a grace signature that made his stomach turn.

Ishim.

Castiel? Didn't think I'd hear from you again. I already heard about Benjamin. Mirabelle and I are in town. Let's meet to talk. Come alone.

Ishim sent him a mental image of a diner and Castiel broke off the connection as soon as he could. He turned back to the Winchesters who were watching expectantly.

"Well?" Dean asked.

"I'm going to meet someone to discuss what happened to Benjamin," he said.

"Great, we'll come along," Dean said and strode toward the car. Castiel hesitated a moment before he went too. He'd deal with Sam and Dean once he got there. The last thing he wanted was the Winchesters meeting Ishim. That could only make this worse than it already was.

He grudgingly gave Dean directions to the place Ishim had named as a meeting point, but when they pulled up outside, Castiel put his foot down.

"Alright, who are we meeting?" Sam asked as they got out of the Impala.

Castiel hesitated, but there was really no point in not telling them. "His name is…Ishim. Before I, uh, commanded my own flight of angels, my own battalion, I served under him with Benjamin."

"And you think he knows what's going on?" Dean asked.

"We'll find out," Castiel replied wearily, then turned toward the diner. "You wait here."

"Whoa, excuse me?" Dean demanded.

Castiel turned around with a roll of his eyes. He should have known better. "Ishim said to come alone," he said. "He doesn't like…humans." He watched Sam and Dean's expressions skew to something slightly insulted. Dean looked like he was going to protest again, so Castiel turned to him and said, "If I plan to do anything else stupid, I'll let you know."

Then he turned around and went inside the diner, not giving the Winchesters a chance to say anything else as Dean just stood, open-mouthed at his parting comment.

Castiel entered the diner, eyes flitting around, to land almost immediately on the two angels sitting near the back. First, there was Mirabelle, looking the same as she always did, somber and authoritative.

And then there was Ishim.

Castiel was assaulted by a barrage of images, memories rushing through his head. Ishim sneering at Benjamin, shoving Micah into a wall, hand gripping his shirt, Ishim's hand running over Rebekah's shoulder as she flinched away from him, disgust on her face…

Castiel forced the images away. If he didn't he would never get through this meeting without throttling Ishim right there in the diner among the humans. So instead, he put on a pleasant air, though it irked him to do so, bracing himself for what was the follow as he walked over to them.

"Mirabelle…Ishim," he greeted, as he sat down in the booth across from his old commander. He was still in the vessel that he had been in the last time Castiel saw him and his cold hard eyes and sprawling, narcissistic posture were the same as always.

"You kept your vessels all this time, I'm impressed," he said, for lack of anything else to start with.

Mirabelle shrugged slightly. "We are not careless."

"But you, Castiel," Ishim said, his voice grating on Castiel's nerves already. "I liked the old you better."

Castiel felt uncomfortable with Ishim's eyes raking over him, the mocking tone obvious in his voice. He adjusted his coat, pulling it tighter around him as if it could shield him from his old commander's scorn.

"We've been waiting," Mirabelle said. "I suppose it does take longer to get places now without our wings. You had a hand in that, correct?"

Castiel felt the stab in his chest at her obvious accusation. He knew it was justified, but still, she didn't have to make a point of it.

"Now, Mirabelle," Ishim said, glancing up at his lieutenant. "Some angels think of Castiel as a hero." His condescending tone was all too familiar and Castiel found himself getting more and more sick to his stomach as Ishim sent him a pointed glance. "After he left us, he had his own flight to command. Balthazar, Uriel—great soldiers. Both dead now, of course. You had a hand in that too."

"Uriel was a traitor," Castiel said absently; of course, Balthazar was another matter all together. Just another thing for him to feel horrible about.

Ishim shrugged. "Doesn't matter, you were still the cause of their deaths, one way or another. So is he a hero? Is he a spanner in the works? I don't know." Ishim made a mocking face, but the cruelty in his eyes hit Castiel to the core. Mirabelle joined him with her own accusatory gaze.

Castiel held on to what he really wanted to say, instead settling on, "I'm not a hero. But sometimes doing the right thing requires sacrifices."

"True," Ishim admitted. "But it always seems like it's other angels sacrificing for your good deeds."

"At least I always had a purpose; trying to do better," Castiel couldn't help but say, his voice low and angry that Ishim of all people would accuse him of that. "At least I didn't just throw my men into battle without preparation."

Ishim narrowed his eyes, anger flitting through them at the obvious jibe. "No. But you still caused them to lose much. Their wings…their lives…I'd say that's worse, wouldn't you, Castiel?"

Finally Castiel had had enough of this. "Are you here to insult me, or to talk about Benjamin?" he cut in sharply.

Ishim, gave a small shrug with an overbearing look as he leaned over the table, closer to Castiel than he wanted to be to him again. "Can't we do both?"

Mirabelle cut through the tension. "In the years since we've lost our wings, two others from our flight have been murdered," she informed him. "Like Benjamin."

"There's only a few of us left now," Ishim added.

Castiel frowned at the news, glancing between them. "Why didn't I know about this?" he demanded.

"We didn't think you'd care," Mirabelle said.

"And why wouldn't I?" Castiel demanded.

"Oh, I don't know," Ishim said, pouting thoughtfully. "Maybe because once you got a flight of your own, you completely forgot, in your fame and then your infamy, that you ever fought in a low-tier battalion like mine."

"Maybe it wasn't everyone else I was trying to forget," Castiel couldn't help but say in a low voice.

Ishim narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but the door to the diner swung open and Dean, followed by Sam who had an exasperated look on his face, stormed inside and strode over toward the three angels.

Castiel rolled his eyes. He should have known they wouldn't stay put. Now this was just going to get even more complicated.

"Hey," Dean called, pasting a smile on his face. Mirabelle and Ishim looked at him with suspicion and disgust.

"Dean," Castiel growled, shaking his head.

"Feeling a little left out over there," Dean said as Sam offered Castiel an apologetic look. Dean came over to the booth and nodded to him. "Scoot over."

Castiel had little choice but to slide over against the wall as both Dean and Sam slid into the booth, the three of them pressed shoulder to shoulder. Castiel couldn't help but feel Dean was hemming him in on purpose. Better to keep him from doing something stupid, perhaps.

Ishim, leveled a dark gaze at Castiel, and began to methodically open sugar packets to pour into the cup of coffee sitting in front of him. "I said to come alone."

"These are my friends," Castiel said, casting a glance over at them. "My friends who don't listen very well." Dean's only response was to smirk at him, making Castiel even angrier.

"How're you doing?" Sam greeted the angels, trying to be the bringer of tact as usual. "I'm—"

"We know who you are," Mirabelle cut in sharply.

Ishim turned toward her. "Check outside to see if there are others."

Mirabelle nodded and rose, heading toward the door.

Castiel sighed inwardly. "I only brought Sam and Dean."

"As far as you know," Ishim said, stirring the copious amounts of sugar into his cup. Castiel vaguely thought that it probably wouldn't even all dissolve. The angel studied Sam and Dean with a calculating expression that Castiel didn't like at all. He knew Ishim didn't like humans much, but he had warned Sam and Dean not to come in. Of course they could never listen.

"Well," Dean said, still smiling in that humorless way he did when he was unhappy with a situation and the people involved. "Who wants some pie?"

Ishim only put more sugar into his coffee, giving Dean a baleful look. "You know," he said slowly. "When I knew Castiel he was a…soldier. He was a warrior; an angel's angel." Of course, because Ishim had thought so much of him back then, Castiel thought bitterly. Ishim motioned to Castiel as if to state his point. "Now look how far he's fallen."

"How about a little coffee with that sugar?" Dean commented.

He and Ishim had a brief staring contest, trying to see who would break first. Castiel shifted uncomfortably, wondering where this would end up.

Ishim just smirked slightly and turned back toward Castiel, continuing with his mocking litany. "No wings, no home. Just a ratty old coat and a pair of…poorly trained monkeys."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Oh, well, you can go to hell."

"Dean, it's fine," Castiel said quickly, not wanting this to get out of hand. He didn't want the Winchesters to get on Ishim's bad side. He knew how badly that could end for people.

Sam frowned, leaning forward. "No, no it's not," he protested.

"Sam," Castiel nearly pleaded. "This isn't about me, it's about Benjamin."

"Now that," Ishim said, pointing his spoon at Castiel, "is refreshingly accurate. But since you brought a couple extra people to our little chit-chat, we should go somewhere more private. I have a safe house nearby."

Ishim stood and reached into his pocket, pulling out a few bills and folded them as he stared at Castiel. "I'll go get Mirabelle. So nice to see you, old friend." He tossed the money on the table in front of Dean. "Have some pie."

The three of them sat there silently as Ishim walked out. Dean pulled a mocking face, and Sam cleared his throat, standing to go sit on the opposite booth to give Dean and Cas more room. Castiel was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. He hadn't realized how tense he had been until Ishim left.

"Wow," Sam began, finally breaking the silence. "Hell of a friend, Cas."

"Why do you let him talk to you like that?" Dean demanded.

Castiel wanted to retort that Dean hadn't exactly been civil to him recently either, but this was no time to voice his grievances. All he cared about was getting justice for Benjamin and his other lost comrades.

"If Ishim can help me find whoever killed Benjamin, I have to," Castiel said, glancing between the Winchesters.

"Okay, look, I get that we need super dick there but, I mean, come on," Dean protested.

"The angels that I served with are being killed," Castiel stated firmly. "So I will put up with Ishim, I will put up with everything else, and so will you. I have to go." He started to slide out of the booth, giving Dean no choice but to get up and out of his way. Castiel was too tired to put up with him anymore just then. Having to deal with Ishim was enough, he didn't need this current version of Dean too, who always seemed suspicious of him and had to question all his actions. He pushed out the door of the diner, leaving the Winchesters behind for the moment, though he knew they would be back with him before long.

Besides, despite everything he tried to do to stop it, seeing Ishim again was bringing to mind more unwanted memories, sending him back to a place he had never wanted to visit again.


The first few days being in the new garrison were somewhat rough. Angels were all pretty much the same in how they ran things but yet, each commander had their own ways of doing things too. Mirabelle's training was more grueling than in Castiel's previous garrison, for example, and he was still getting used to being around this new group of angels, getting to know them and their grace signatures better. Learning how to fight with and around them.

He was coming back to the barracks after a long morning of training, hoping to get some time alone to read a little, when he heard voices coming from inside.

"I-I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

"No you won't, and you know why, boy?" There was the distinctive sound of flesh hitting flesh, followed by a sharp gasp. "Because I say so. And here, my word is law."

Anger boiled in Castiel instantly at simply hearing the exchange, but as he stepped into the barracks and saw Ishim crowding the smaller figure of Micah against the wall, one hand in his tunic, the other open in an obvious threat, he was furious.

"What's going on?" he demanded, before remembering, with some regret, that it wasn't his place to question his commander like that.

Ishim whipped around, glaring at him. "This does not concern you, Castiel. I would suggest you leave before I take my hand to you too."

The distress on Micah's face however, caused Castiel instead to stand his ground.

"And what exactly did Micah do to incur your wrath?" Castiel asked.

Ishim completely turned then, seeming to forget Micah all together. "You dare question why I choose to punish someone? Perhaps you're the one who needs to learn your place, boy."

Castiel didn't flinch as Ishim raised a hand, and for some reason, that stopped his commander. Castiel simply stared at him, and Ishim stared back before lowering his hand and clearing his throat.

"I'll give you a warning just this once because you're new here and you don't know how things work. But remember, Castiel. Here, I am the leader, and you all must do as I say or suffer the consequences."

He strode out of the room, and Castiel finally felt the tension leave him as he went to help Micah who was slumped against the wall.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

The younger angel straightened. "I'll be fine. But…I..I didn't do anything. I didn't think I ever said anything wrong."

"I didn't think you had," Castiel said grimly, anger flaring again at the thought of Ishim crowding the poor boy into the wall. "Is this…does this happen often?"

Micah nodded after a moment's hesitation. "I'm not the only one, but…Castiel, Ishim isn't a good leader. He's not a good angel at all. He has…well, there's something in him. Something not quite right. A real mean streak."

Castiel nodded. Yes, he knew well enough. He had seen the same in Zachariah during the times he had been unfortunate enough to need 're-education'. But Ishim…Castiel wasn't sure it was the same. Zachariah took pleasure in doling out punishment, especially to people he didn't like. Ishim just seemed to generally enjoy being cruel in petty ways to people. Especially those he could control, who he deemed weaker than him.

Perhaps that was why he hadn't struck Castiel after all.

Maybe Castiel could use that to his advantage.

However, he was soon to realize that not all things were that simple, and that he had possibly misjudged Ishim more than he had realized.


Castiel was pulled from that memory by a shout nearby, and the familiar, horrifying, feeling of an angel's grace exploding.

Without another thought, he ran to see what had happened.