Detective Kid1412: It's season 1 so John is alive I'll be covered a little more in this chapter. Sam's is scoping out da town. Thanks for the comment

My Peanut Gallery: 1. Author's notes are one of mannerisms I write with on occasion and in my experience with my other stories, it's well-received. This one, however was a remnant of me writing this story solely for myself in order to test out some cool fonts I downloaded. I do, however, recognize it may be distracting to some viewers but I have decided I can be juvenile seeing as I have a full two days before I'm an adult. Update 3 yrs later: ok, you were right. It was weird.

2. It's AU and right off the back I said it would be different than canon. i.e. In the actual show when Dean stabbed Cas, he wasn't hurt in the slightest. In this version he's less indestructible. A low level of belief has to be suspended for this story to function. Sam couldn't be there because then Dean wouldn't necessarily have the 'more profound bond' and wouldn't have to come to his own conclusion (him being the only one at the time to have talked to Castiel) that he was in fact an angel. Sam is scoping out the town for evidence of a spirit with killer vocal cords taking hits. Which isn't too strange seeing as actually episode 6 (Skin) was the first episode they split up in.

3. I know, I know. But here, Dean's heard of the trickster heard of it through lore. Never met one cause he's just not at that level yet.

I'm glad you're interested and thank you for being my first reviewer. And thank you for the criticisms. Just understand I AM aware of the inconsistencies in this story and I'm simply handling then as best I know how. And if it's not good enough, there's many SPN authors on this site with better writing than myself and I can recommend some to you.

You'll start to notice the dialogue straying further from the script as the story breaks off into a slightly different direction but in this chapter some dialogue is taken from 1x04 and 4x02. Enjoy!

1x04 The Phantom Traveler (Sam and Dean board a flight doomed to crash to exorcise a disaster-causing demon.)

Bobby and Sam sat in Bobby's office, every flat surface lined with weathered yellow reading material and enough dust to create an Angora dust-bunny. Dean stood, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Well, then tell me what else it could be." Sam reasoned.

"Look, all I know is I wasn't talking to a frickin' angel."

"Okay, look, Dean. Why do you think this 'Castiel' would lie to you about it?" Sam asked.

"Maybe he's some kind of demon. Demons lie."

Bobby looked up from the stacks of the books he had been trying to decipher.

"A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps. I've never heard of anything like that," he said, sounding utterly doubtful, "never seen a demon sleep-gas someone either."

"Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one... at some point... ever?"

"Yeah. You just did, Dean."

"I'm trying to come up with a theory here. Okay? Work with me." Dean said, frustratedly.

"Dean, we have a theory." Sam said impatiently.

"Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please." Dean groaned, knowing he had just been backed into a corner. Sam had a point.

"Okay, look. I'm not saying we know for sure. I'm just saying that I think we—" Sam started.

"Okay, okay. That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking 'Angel of the Lord' because it says so!"

"You two chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?" Bobby told them, impatiently. Sam and Dean relented and walked over to Bobby's desk. "I got stacks of lore - Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel is capable of everything we saw and more."

"What else could it do?" Dean asked, gripping the back of a chair.

"I don't know, far as we know, they're immune to demon weapons, have killer vocals, and can knock out cold by touch. Damn glyphs are practically indecipherable past that point. Must have been privileged information."

"Dean, this is good news." Sam told him, finally looking optimistic for the first time since Jess's death.

"How?" Dean didn't share his enthusiasm.

"Because maybe this isn't more monster crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?"

"Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?" Dean seemed to relent slightly.

"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah." Bobby supplied.

"I don't know, guys."

"Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof." Sam said. Damn, he hoped angels were real. He could really use someone upstairs looking out for him and his family—Dean, Bobby and his dad, wherever he was.

"Proof?" Dean asked, bringing Sam back to his previous train of thought.

"Yes." Sam nodded.

Dean seemed to get a little angry at the idea of that. "Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it." Where was He when his mom had died? When he carried Sammy out of the burning house by himself? When they grew up on the road and when Sam's girlfriend died?

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?"

"Dean—" Sam looked pained.

"I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy." Dean explained.

"Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs." Sam told him.

"Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties, much less by... God."

"Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think He wants you to strap on your party hat." Sam didn't feel like he was getting anywhere with this.

"Fine. What do we know about angels?" Dean asked, switching topics nearly flawlessly."

Bobby picked up a pile of heavy books and put them in front of Dean. "Start reading."

Dean made a move to grab the books right before his phone started ringing. He pulled out his phone. "Hello?" He asked cautiously.

"Dean, its, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You and your dad helped me out a couple years back."

"Oh, right, yeah." Dean said, rubbing his face. "Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania… the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?" Dean honestly couldn't handle another mess right now.

"No, no. Thank God, no. But it's something else, and…uh I think it could be a lot worse." Jerry said. Looks like Dean had no choice.

"Just curious, it doesn't happen to be glass-shattering noises does it?"

"No, why?"

"Nothing, I'll be there," Dean said finally.

Dean, Sam and Jerry walked through the airplane hangar.

"You guys fight a bus?" Jerry finally asked, noting the cuts and bruises both boys had across their faces and arms.

"No—I almost wish it was," Dean grumbled.

"We had a run-in with demons yesterday," Sam explained, quickly closing the matter. Dean nearly balked.

Had it all been just yesterday?

Dean changed his mind—a good case was just what he needed. Well, maybe not, he amended, looking around the terminal.

"You okay?" Sam asked him.

"No, not really," Dean said, looking down a little bit.

"What? What's wrong? Are you still thinking about—"

"No, I just have this problem with uh…"

"Flying?" Sam supplied with a small smile.

"It's never been an issue until now," Dean told him defensively.

"You're joking, right?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?" He wasn't really afraid of flying so much as we was afraid of falling.

Twenty minutes later, on the ground, the trench-coat wearing angel squinted thoughtfully at the sky. "Interesting," He said finally, watching a plane descend into the clouds. A few minutes after it had gone, the angel resumed walking down the center of an empty highway.

After intercepting the demon possessing airplanes, Dean and Sam had rented a hotel room. Sam was fast asleep his bed, finally. He hadn't gotten sleep in days.

No wonder, the poor kid was practically blaming himself for his girlfriend's death. Something Dean'd have to straighten out after he woke up.

Then, the hunter heard the faintest sound coming from their room. Dean popped up from where he had been lying on his bed and crept over the kitchenette, knife ready in hand.

Castiel stood there, in front of the sink in cabinets, looking slightly curious. Dean lowered the knife and spun around to make sure Sam was still sleeping and walked over to join Castiel.

"Excellent job with the demon," the man said.

"You were hip to all this?" Dean asked, adding divine knowledge mentally to Bobby's list of Castiel's abilities.

Castiel looked horribly confused. "I was, uh, made aware."

"Well thanks a lot for the angelic assistance." Dean vaguely registered that he had just referred to him as an angel. "You know, the plane nearly crashed like, five times."

"But it didn't," Castiel said. "And it can be difficult to fly onto an aircraft going over six hundred miles per hour."

"I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos—You know, Michael Landon. Not dicks."

Castiel ignored the references he didn't understand. "Read the Bible. Angels are warriors of God. I'm a solider."

"Yeah? Then why didn't you fight?"

"I'm not here to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns." Castiel told him firmly.

"Concerns? People are dying left and right. And by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh? If there is a God?"

"There's a God." Castiel said seriously and maybe a little upset.

"I'm not convinced. If there is a God, what's he waiting for, huh? There's monsters roaming the Earth! At what point does he lift a damn finger?"

"The Lord works…" Castiel started.

"If you say 'mysterious ways,' so help me, I will kick your ass." Suddenly, something else hit Dean. "So, it's true then, the demons are becoming active again."

"That's why I'm here. Big things afoot."

"Do I want to know?"

Castiel, who was still completely straight-faced, said, "I sincerely doubt it, but you should know. The demon Azazel has become a threat to humankind."

"Azazel?" Dean asked, part of him wondering how far he should trust the angel.

"Yes and because of him a dozen hunters are dead. It disrupts the weak balance of good and evil even further."

"Who is Azazel?" Dean asked firmly.

Castiel, whose gaze had wandered, finally turned back and looked directly into Dean's eyes. "You know him better as the Yellow-eyed Demon."

Dean leaned against the counter, feeling sick. "So the demon who killed my mother and Jess…Sam's—"

Castiel nodded. "I am aware of who Jessica Moore is and that Azazel killed her as well." Dean drew in a breath as it was confirmed that Yellow-Eyes was, in fact the killer of both women.

Dean looked at Sam's sleeping form, wondering if he should know. Their mother and his girlfriend had been taken by the same demon. And who the hell knows where their dad was?

"He shouldn't know now. His mental state is more compromised than you might believe."

"Why did he target us again?" Dean demanded, fighting the urge to grab Castiel's shirt.

The angel's mouth set in a line. "Azazel…seems to have a certain fondness of symmetry." Dean struggled to push his boiling anger down. It was Azazel who he hated, not the winged dick that stood in front of him.

Castiel continued on. "It seems that he wants the two of you irreparably broken."

"He can't expect to take over," Dean said. There was a tacit 'Can he?' at the end of the sentence that even Castiel seemed to understand.

"Why do you think we're among you for the first time in two thousand years?" Castiel asked.

"To stop him."

"That's why I've arrived."

"Well, bang-up job so far. Stellar work at Manitoc Lake or the ghost or Windingo, other demon attacks."

"I tried. And there are other battles, other demons. You cannot win each battle." Castiel reasoned.

Dean scowled. His heart told him 'The hell he couldn't,' his experience told him the damn angel was right.

Dean, always one to listen to his heart, replied with the former.

"Our numbers are not unlimited. A dozen stronger demons are a challenge, even for angels. You think the armies of Heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I saved you, next time you may not share the same fortune."

Castiel vanished with a flap of wings, leaving Dean alone in the kitchen, fighting a shudder.

The next morning—Or early afternoon, Dean woke up. It had taken nearly ten minutes for his heart to return to normal and a good hour for him to settle down enough to sleep. Sam was already awake, looking like he had only gotten a few hours—his new usual.

"You all right? What's wrong, Dean?" Sam must have noticed Dean's worried expression went he remembered the topic of conversation between the angel and himself.

"So… You got no problem believing in... God and Angels?"

"No, not really." Sam looked a little puzzled as to why Dean was asking him now, but content all the same.

"So, I guess that means that you believe they fight demons too."

Review please! I'm working on the next chapter so expect it within a week or so.