Revelations
The Beginning: Part Two

By Nan00k

As continued from Part One. :)

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Warnings: graphic violence, foul language, brief descriptions of sexual acts, religious overtones, original characters, canon/OC pairing, canon pairings, alternative universe (post season five)
Disclaimer
: Supernatural © Eric Kripke/CW. I only write this mess.


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4:37 PM
Nazareth, Ohio

Dean had expected to be like finding a needle in a haystack—rather, a holy vessel of the Lord in a town full of Christian fundamentalists. For once, luck seemed to be on their side for once, as Nazareth, Ohio was far from a fundamentalist town (more like Classic American Pie with a dash of Christian undertones thrown in). Also, Castiel seemed to know where to go to find their target. Dean hoped that everything else would be just as easy.

"She a nun or something?" he asked, glancing around nervously as they walked briskly down a street full of parked cars, but the people were all congregating further ahead, outside a church.

"Daughter of a preacher," Castiel answered, gruff. He wasn't looking around erratically for some sort of sign, so he probably knew exactly what he was looking for. "Come on."

"Do you know what she looks like?" Dean asked, glancing around anyway. The lady wasn't even pregnant yet, so he couldn't tell one woman from the next.

He sincerely hoped they were dealing with a woman-woman, and not some fourteen year old in a biblical sense. Otherwise, he would seriously have to hunt Raphael and smite the bastard himself.

"Vaguely," Castiel said absently. He turned at the entrance of that church's parking lot, looking around now. They were close apparently. "She's twenty-three, brown hair—wait."

The angel stopped and Dean looked up where he was staring. Ahead, there was a woman greeting the last of the churchgoers heading into the small chapel, smiling politely at the guests. She had to be in her young twenties, with wavy brown hair, and wasn't too bad looking, but Dean knew now wasn't the time. Castiel made a beeline for the lady, and Dean thought absently, Here we go.

"Deborah Garrison?" Castiel began, without prompt or hesitance. He was all business now. Dean didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

Deborah looked up at his voice, her eyes becoming uncertain as she tried to place a name to Castiel and Dean's faces, but failed. "Uh—hello," she started, smiling anyway. "Are you new to our church?"

She seemed absolutely normal. Most of their clients did, however. Dean knew they didn't have the luxury to walk into this one as they usual did, with false I.D.s and longwinded explanations to avoid telling the truth. Right now, the truth was the only option.

But not in front of an open church, however. Mass was about to start. Dean glanced at Castiel, before turning back to their unfortunate victim.

"Miss Garrison, you need to come with us, right now," he said, pulling out his Seriously Concerned Law Enforcement voice. He stopped himself, however, because he knew posing as a cop wouldn't work. It would only cause more problems later. They needed to let the woman know the truth, as quickly as possible.

That, of course, was harder than it sounded. Deborah's polite expression had rapidly faded into a look of wariness. "Wh-why?" she exclaimed, glancing between them quickly. "Who are you?"

Dean hted this part. So much. "My name's Dean Winchester, and this is Castiel," he said, speaking carefully, gesturing at himself and Castiel both, hoping to show them as harmless. "I need you to believe me when I say, you need to come with us, right now."

The truth was never accepted as quickly as a lie. "Why?" Deborah demanded, now far more alarmed.

Exasperated, Dean decided to go for a general concern. "Your life is in danger," he replied. Mild exaggeration, but it had the same effect as saying, There Are Some Angels Coming After You For Booty Call.

"What are you talking about?" Deborah asked, shocked. She brought the church pamphlets she was holding closer to her chest, looking more and more ready to book it inside the church. "I don't know you."

"Yeah, but we know you," Dean replied, speaking quickly. "Come on, lady, please. Have you—have you ever experienced anything weird? Cold spots, headaches, visions, flashes of light—?"

Castiel suddenly moved forward, demanding Deborah's attention. "Have you ever seen an angel?" he asked, with all the seriousness Dean remembered the angel had.

Deborah stared at Castiel, her eyes slowly narrowing. "…Who…" she began, but stopped herself. Drawing away, she shook her head. "What is wrong with you?"

Okay, this was rapidly becoming one of his worst first greetings. Dean vowed never to take a month off hunting, ever again, if he got this rusty that quickly. "We don't have time, lady!" he snapped, getting her attention. "There are angels headed this way, okay? They're going to be coming for you, and for nothing good."

"You're insane," Deborah said, shaking her head. She started to back away. "Get away from me."

Inhaling sharply, Dean looked over at Castiel, who was beginning to look just as impatient as he felt. "We don't have time for this!" he exclaimed. They had to haul ass, now. "Cas! Show her!"

Deborah flinched and Castiel looked hesitant at the command. Dean knew that whipping out the angel mojo could scare the crap out of someone who wasn't in on the whole angels-exist thing, but it would certainly make the lady a believer.

"Show me what?" she demanded, hostile.

Pointing at Cas, Dean glared at her. "He is an angel—a real, honest-to-God angel. And he can prove it."

Now it was Castiel's turn to be the pain in the ass. "I can't show myself to her, I would kill both of you," the angel replied, frowning at Dean's suggestion. Deborah only looked more confused.

"Then do the light-show you showed me!" Dean insisted, glancing at Deborah, who suddenly looked strangely… apprehensive. Dean turned to her, hating to beg. "If you want proof, step around to the side of the church so he can show you. Just real quick. If nothing happens, walk back in, we won't stop you."

Dean almost smiled when he saw doubt flicker for the first time in Deborah's eyes. "I…"

Going on hunter's intuition, Dean pressed on. "You saw something, didn't you?" he challenged, moving closer. Deborah didn't say anything, but the way her eyes shone told Dean he was onto something. "You saw something strange and you don't have an explanation for it, so you just said it was crazy. It's not crazy, lady."

The woman hesitated and Dean knew he had hit something for her. Maybe she had thought whatever she had seen was a trick of the eye, but he knew from experience that people only needed a little outside prompting to rethink that assessment after witnessing something paranormal.

"Please," Castiel added, urgent. His eyes were gleaming with intensity. "Let me show you proof."

How they got her to follow them to the side of the driveway that wasn't in full view of the doors of the church, Dean didn't know. She trailed behind slowly as Castiel quickly marched to where he thought was safe. Deborah stopped short of leaving the grassy side, and when Dean turned on the gravel to look at her, he saw she was ready to leave again. Castiel only went a bit further, giving them space. The angel inclined his head toward the suspicious woman, and then, things happened.

Not big things; just the gathering of instant storm clouds. Thunder cracked. The wind picked up abruptly and stray leaves shot through the air. Dean winced as the once-hot air turned cold as it stung his eyes. Deborah had been standing firmly seconds before—but now? Dean saw that doubt in her eyes grow… and grow. The single storm only hovered over them in that tiny driveway. It was clearly not an incidental thing.

The little bit of light left shone beyond Castiel. Dean caught Deborah's wide eyes and then pointed behind her. Turning slowly, she looked up at the wall of the church where a gigantic shadow had formed—one of giant wings.

Deborah turned back around as the wind died and she stared at Castiel with an eerily familiar look of shock. The angel just stood there with narrowed eyes.

It was never funny, that face. Every person Dean had had to give the big reveal to had the same expression. It could have been humorous to someone on the outside—the astonishment, the fear, the horror—but in the end, it was never funny to Dean. Because he was the one to cause that face. He had shattered the illusion for them. It wasn't funny, at all.

"Holy mother of God," Deborah whimpered. She looked like she wanted to stumble away from both of them, but didn't have the strength.

"Kid, don't be saying that just yet," Dean said, weary. He shook his head. This was so wrong.

Castiel, if he had doubts and Dean knew he did, didn't hesitate. "My name is Castiel and I am an angel of the Lord," he said, his voice strangely loud. "We do not have time to wait here, Deborah Garrison. We must go."

Deborah looked ready to hurl. "Wh-why?" she demanded, voice hitching. "What do you want with me?" She suddenly paused, alarmed. "You were at the church yesterday? That—that shadow?"

Dean didn't know anything about a shadow, but that wasn't important right now. "We don't want anything, but there are some big players who do," he answered, frustrated. "Raphael, another angel, he wants to turn you into Mary. Like Mary, mother of God Mary."

Perhaps that could have been phrased better. Castiel sent him a stern look and Deborah paled another color.

"…What?" she asked. Yeah, Dean knew that look. A look of, Please, God Let This Be A Nightmare.

It never was, he thought darkly.

Castiel seemed intent on taking the reigns. "The second coming is upon us," he began, voice grave. "Some in Heaven want to start the apocalypse again and end Earth and humanity with the battle between the Anti-Christ and the next savior." He hesitated and gave Deborah a rather strange look. "Hell already has its Cambion. We need our savior."

Most people they talked to knew very little about Revelation or about prophecy. Dean hadn't been expecting an easy explanation, but thankfully, it appeared Deborah was either quick on the uptake, or just up-to-date with her biblical studies.

"…Oh… no… you… you're…" she stuttered, eyes huge and shining. Dean didn't miss how her hands almost reluctantly reached down and circled her stomach.

Oh, man, this was rapidly becoming his absolutely least favorite job. This felt wrong, all over.

Castiel was almost shaking with emotion. Dean hadn't seen him that unhinged since he had first defied heaven back in the Green Room for Dean. "We must not let this happen. Not again. Earth's time is not up. This is all Raphael's doing." Taking a sharp breath, Castiel's face darkened. "But I cannot stop him."

Deborah didn't say anything at first, looking at Castiel, and then over at Dean. When neither said anything, the young woman nodded slowly. "But…" she began, uncertain, "if this is God's will—"

Her hesitant acceptance was immediately cut off by Castiel. If Dean hadn't known any better, he would have thought the angel had become human again, because the last time Dean had seen him react as angrily as he had, he had been beating the shit out of Dean in an alleyway. That wasn't good.

"THIS IS NOT GOD'S WILL!" Castiel shouted. He didn't just shout-shout. No, his Voice bled out into his normal voice, shaking the glass on the chapel's side wall, and giving Dean a real kick to the head. "None of this was! Our Father never wanted this! I refuse to believe it!"

Ooookay, that was enough of that. Dean reached out, grabbing his friend by the arm, startling him. "Cas! Tone it down, man," he snapped. Looking up, Deborah effectively had a look he had dubbed the Touched by a Douchenozzle Angel look; it was all fear and all pathetic. "Cripes… Deborah? Look at me. We're going to get you out of here." He looked up at Castiel, an idea striking him. "Can you give her that thing, the chest thing, Cas? So angels can't find her?"

Castiel, still angry, pursed his lips. "Yes, but if I attempt to move you, they can track me," he said finally.

That was the last thing they needed. Dean was not about to be doing this by himself. He doubted Deborah would go willingly without the proven angel either.

"Shit…" he muttered. Looking around, he saw the line of cars in front of the church. "Then… we drive." He turned back to Deborah, severe. "Come on. You have a car?"

Deborah stumbled after him as Dean began to walk toward the parking lot. "My dad's car…" she started to say. She sounded even more alarmed. "Wait, where are we going? And what are we running from? !"

Giving the angels-exist-crash-course was never fun. "Raphael is an angel, okay?" Dean explained, glancing at her as they walked toward the cars. "He's not some feathery helper of God. Take all the good stuff you've heard about those fuckers and forget about it, you hear me? They're trying to destroy the world, at least everyone on Raphael's side. Castiel's side—we're trying to stop the apocalypse—again."

"Again—? !" Deborah repeated loudly.

Dean cut her off as she took the lead, headed for a blue hatchback. Ugh. He missed his baby. "And if you said yes to Raphael—and he will get you to say yes, or else—you're not going to be saving anyone, okay?" he immediately said. He didn't trust her not to take this as some religious destiny. They didn't have the time to prove to her that giving up anything for those bastards was a waste of time. "It's going to jump start the end of everything. Your mom, your dad, your life, billions of lives—it's going to be over, Deborah."

"But…" Deborah stuttered. She stopped, hands on the door of the car, and gave Dean a concerned look. For a second, Dean thought she was going to go on a spiel about wanting to be a part of God's plans, or some other bullshit, but mercifully, the woman suddenly looked vaguely sick. "What are we going to do then?"

At least some people still thought the idea of "apocalypse" was a bad thing. Dean sighed gustily. "I have no idea," he admitted. Castiel didn't say anything and only stood there grimly, not helping in the least. "Come on. We need space between them and us, first of all. They're going to be on our asses any minute."

It took some convincing to get Deborah to drive with them anywhere, and even more convincing to let them drive her off somewhere without letting her parents know. The moment she finally caved and said yes, Castiel pulled some stunt and they were instantly in the car, Deborah in the back and Dean at the wheel. Ignoring the stunned civilian in the back, Dean decided to just fuck everything and go.

They only got onto the road for ten seconds before Castiel turned around in the passenger seat and reached back at Deborah.

"Hold still, please," he said without preamble. Before Deborah could even say anything, he had his hand on her collarbone and—

"What—ow!" she yelled, flinching backwards, hands going up to her chest. Dean glanced back and knew what happened.

"He branded you with a spell, to keep Raphael from finding you," he explained, trying to keep eye contact with her as well as the road. They needed to get the hell out of that town, now. "They can't find us humans who have it on them, but they can find Cas if we're not careful."

Castiel nodded, grim. "I should leave you," he said. Deborah only gaped at him, as if he had punched a hole through her instead of just placed a spell.

At that, Dean shot him a look, panic rushing through him. "We need to come up with a plan, man," he said, hoping the angel wouldn't just ditch him now. Separating with an archangel on your ass was just suicide, as they had learned in the past. "You said it yourself, we can't just outrun this guy. He's going to find you, and if he doesn't get you to talk, he's going to kill you."

Castiel didn't say anything, so he probably agreed. The angel just sat there, completely out of place in the passenger seat, and stared out at nothing. Dean gripped the steering wheel, suddenly feeling trapped.

They just had to keep driving. Something could come to them.

"…Why is this happening?" Deborah suddenly whispered.

That had a complicated answer. "Because we stopped Lucifer and Michael from fighting. We stopped the end of the world," Dean answered. He didn't even think to censor anything. The truth probably was the only weapon they had right now, to make sure if Deborah did wind up with their enemies, she'd know what she was up against. "Raphael thinks just because God ran off without leaving the rest of us an instruction manual, in His own words, he can just wipe the slate clean."

Deborah shook her head, baffled. "Why? And how?"

"There's already an Antichrist." Deborah flinched back in shock. Dean kept going. "Thing is, if we leave him alone, he'll stay neutral. But the moment we pull a dick move and try to bring our own nukes onto the playing field—well, you can bet it won't take much to convince a thirteen year old with godly powers to react in defense. He'll kill everyone just out of fear of being attacked himself by Heaven's super-powerful god-child."

"Where is God then?" Deborah asked, desperate. Dean knew what she was thinking; surely, the Big Guy would fix things, if an angel were real.

Too bad that wasn't the case.

"Not here," he growled. Castiel said nothing as the car rolled its way out of town. Deborah just looked down at the floor of the car, stunned.

They didn't say anything for several minutes. Dean wanted to punch something—really bad. But there wasn't time to freak out.

Deciding to take the little time they had, Dean looked up at the rear view mirror and caught Deborah's attention. "So," he began stiffly. "You want to know about Raphael?"

Deborah stared at him in the mirror, stricken, but listening.

"Fine," he said, steeling his heart, exhaling sharply. "Let me tell you what we've been doing for the last two years."

This wasn't going to be pretty.

0000

Shores of Galilee

When calamity comes, the wicked are brought down, but even in death the righteous seek refuge in God.

His was no death. There was no refuge and no mercy. Just… nothingness. Humans had it easy. They had something to go to, heaven, after death.

An angel had nothingness. A reunion with the spirit they had never met.

He wasn't very upset when that nothingness suddenly and abruptly… ended.

Gabriel lived.

Awakened on the beaches of the land he had once visited two thousand years previous, Gabriel considered the situation. He had been dead, he was pretty sure. Last thing he recalled was getting a gut full of metal, courtesy of his big brother, numero dos. After that… nothing. It was like he had opened his eyes after blinking and he was just in a different place.

But this place? It was too specific. Too… planned. Gabriel walked along the shoreline, taking in everything. The seasons were different. And the world was still standing. Unless he had been brought back before the fight, or it had already happened and something had gone… right, for once.

Winchesters. He bet those bastards were behind it.

Gabriel was compelled not to fly off and find them, however. Something had brought him back and in a world like theirs, he was sure it was for a reason.

When he finally felt a tickle of… something… run through his Grace, Gabriel stopped walking. He looked out at the waters, humans strangely absent from the scene. The sun was just rising over the glistening sea and he basked in the light.

"What are you planning, you son of a bitch," he said to the air. He kept his fists firmly in his pockets, because if he didn't, he was sure he was going to start shaking. He wasn't scared. He wasn't.

Find Castiel.

Gabriel turned to face the sky, grinning, hiding his trembling Grace. "Why should I?" he challenged.

There were no words needed, not for this. Gabriel took it and understood—everything.

Perhaps with one plan in ruins, a second one would have to do.

Gabriel unfurled his wings and took to the sky, seeking out the one brother he had left that he knew—from sources he dared not to question—he still had reason to support.

Father help us all.

0000

Ohio
6:12 PM

Summarizing his last two years of life (time in Hell not included) hadn't been too difficult, at least for him. They were the facts of life for Dean. For outsiders like Deborah, it had opened a Pandora's box of things they really never wanted to hear.

"You're lying," she said, clearly trying not to cry. They were on the back roads again, thankfully, but there was only darkness and a few scattered street lamps out now. "G-God's here. He's not dead."

"I don't think he's dead as much as just in recluse," Castiel replied, sullen and apathetic as ever. "We cannot expect help from him now."

"What do we do then? !" she exclaimed. She looked like she couldn't decide whether or not to be scared or just exasperated. To be honest, she wasn't taking it that badly. Except for the whole your-faith-is-a-lie thing. The part about her being the next mother of the Holy Child threw her pretty badly too.

"I don't know," Dean answered. He drummed his hands nervously on the steering wheel of the alien car, not for the first time wishing he was in his own Impala, which was back in Indiana. "Fuck. We can try to run. Get some space between us… catch our breaths and just… think about it."

That was a shitty plan, but it was better than just lying down and preparing to die. Or get knocked up, in Deborah's case. Castiel told him repeatedly it wasn't like demonic possession; for angels, they needed consent for everything. Dean remembered that much. Just like Jesse's mother, Deborah would have been temporarily made a vessel and then, boom, Jesus, Jr.

He was sincerely glad they had gotten to Deborah first, however. She probably would have seen being "chosen" to have the next Savior as a blessed thing. Now, she looked ready to throw up. He had tossed back a stray jacket he found in the front seat once it started to get chillier, but she just held it in her lap, looking utterly lost.

"Someone is calling for me," Castiel suddenly announced, breaking the silence sharply.

Dean shot him a look. "Who?" he asked, a hundred worries rising in his mind. "Shit, you guys don't do mind-GPS, do you? I thought you were hiding your Grace." There was no guarantee on that, either, but Raphael's lackies hadn't descended down on them yet.

Castiel frowned deeply. "To a degree, yes," the angel said. He paused and looked confused. "It is… impossible."

That didn't sound good. "Who?" Dean asked, his stomach in knots. He tried to focus on driving them safely on the empty road, but he stole glances at his friend repeatedly as he waited for an answer.

The angel paused before stating bluntly, "Gabriel."

Dean didn't even blink. "Bullshit," he said. "He's dead." Castiel had confirmed it himself, finding the remains of the archangel back at that hotel after Lucifer's massacre. It had been a huge blow to their plans; if they had had the archangel on their side at the end… who knew what could have happened?

"Yes," Castiel said, but he seemed uneasy by something. "But he has been resurrected, he claims. He wants to know where I am to meet us."

As if that didn't scream It's a Traaaap. "Can Raphael fake that?" Dean demanded, giving him another quick look. "You know, pretending to be another angel?" He didn't think Gabriel, if it was him, would turn them in, but a lot had changed.

Castiel shook his head. "No. I can feel Gabriel. It is him."

Grimacing, Dean glared daggers at the road in front of them. It was slowly becoming total back roads. "Great. Just perfect." Exhaling sharply, he shook his head at Castiel. "Don't answer him. Raphael might be trying to trap us."

"I know," Castiel said quietly. He stopped and then, even softer, said, "I am sorry, Dean."

That gave Dean a pause. "For what?" he asked, looking at his friend in surprise.

Castiel looked over at him, eyes dark. "You wanted out of this life," he explained. "I dragged you into it again."

Dean couldn't deny he was frustrated to be on a road driving away from Armageddon again, but it wasn't as if this were Castiel's fault. "What the hell were you going to do? Do this alone?" he shot back. "Hell no, man." Whether any of them liked it, when it came to Heaven and Hell… it was practically Dean's job to stick his neck out to fix the mess they made. He refused to call it destiny, but it sure was consistent.

"You do not want this life," Castiel observed. Dean didn't know if he should have felt nostalgic from the Captain Fucking Obvious routine.

"I don't want a lot of things, Cas," Dean grit out. Hunting, his father dead, his brother dead… They couldn't just stop there, though. "We drive. We drive until we can't and we have to fight."

And then die a horrible death most likely. Or, if they were really unlucky, they'd live long enough to see Raphael's plans through and watch the world be blown to smithereens.

Leaning back in his seat for the first time, Castiel closed his eyes, as if suddenly overburdened. "I am sorry, Deborah," he said. He sounded entirely apologetic. It reminded Dean of worse times and it made his stomach churn.

"I just want to go home," Deborah whimpered, burying her face into the jacket, breathing heavily. Dean grimaced, but focused on the road.

It was getting darker and they still had nothing to go on except drive. Castiel was unnaturally still and quiet, most likely thinking or focusing on hiding himself from Raphael's henchmen. Deborah wasn't saying much either, so Dean let her stew in the facts. It was cruel to dump that Pandora's Box in her lap, but honestly, no one had the luxury of hiding from the truth.

Castiel suddenly spoke up. "We probably have only an hour at best before they find us," he said quietly, belaying the severity of that comment.

An hour. Dean shook his head, scowling. "What the hell can we even do, Cas?" he demanded. There had to be an answer to that. Castiel had to have a plan. He just—had to. "You said it yourself, we can't fight this son of a bitch." Sammy had been the one with the plans. Dean knew his general run-at-them-with-guns plan would epically fail here.

"No, not here," Castiel replied, shaking his head grimly. "And I am certain that if I leave you to gather my supporters in Heaven, Raphael will kill you both regardless."

Dean shot him a look, alarmed. "Both of us?" he repeated, alarmed, looking up at the rearview to look at their hapless charge. "Don't they need her for their creepy ass raped-by-an-angel rituals or some shit?" No, no, he was not going to let someone else die for those goddamn monsters that called themselves the servants of God.

"If she does not consent to their plans—," Castiel began.

"Like hell I will!" Deborah suddenly screamed, tearing her face away from the jacket long enough to send both men in the front of the car a hysterical glare.

"—they will kill her," Castiel finished, glancing at Deborah hesitantly before continuing, staring only at Dean. "She would be of no use, other than to be left for demons to find. They will not allow that risk. Another vessel could always be found at a later time."

Crying now, Deborah buried her face into the denim fabric. "Oh, God. Oh, God," she whimpered. Dean clenched the steering wheel; again, the unwarranted terror, striking another unfortunate soul… all because of the creatures more than half of humanity prayed to for mercy.

"I'd sure really like it if that guy were involved, 'cause at least then I could have someone new to blame for this bullshit," he snapped, focusing on the road and fighting the urge to just drive them into the guard rails to just end it right there. "Jesus Christ—why can't those idiots just—just—leave Earth alone?"

What a pitiful thought. Dean took several deep breaths, desperately trying to calm down, if not for his sake, but for the other two passengers. Deborah had grown quiet and Castiel just stared out into the front window, eyes out of focus. Dean glanced at his friend, the chill in his gut never fading. "Cas… you gotta have a plan," he began, trying not to sound as weak as he felt. "We can't let this happen. Not again."

The angel looked back at him, sympathy and fear in his vibrant eyes. "Dean…" he started to say, but he stopped. Castiel looked down, haunted.

He knew just as much as Dean did—about how wrong this was, and how much was being threatened here. There was no escape. There hadn't been one before. Dean's heart stung as much as his eyes did, as he recalled how his brother jumped into the hole, sentencing himself to eternal damnation to stop the end. The end was coming again—and for what? Had Sam's demise meant nothing? There was no pit to jump into now. Only another innocent life to be ruined and month-old wounds to be lashed open again.

Dean would not survive that. Not again.

"We can't let him win. We've—we've already lost everything else," he pleaded. Castiel looked up at him, but Dean knew he was just as helpless. Trembling, Dean shook his head, not sure if it was resolve or fear that made him shake. "We can't let him win."

Castiel said nothing. He just stared, looking broken and tired, as if he had once again fallen. Dean turned to the road, the asphalt and white and yellow lines disappearing into oblivious behind them.

Maybe letting the world end wouldn't be bad. They were already past their expiration date. Maybe it would be okay to just… let go.

Choking on grief, Dean prayed it would be okay.

I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm sorry everything had been for nothing. All of your pain, all of my pain, all of the sacrifices we've made—

For nothing. It was just going to end anyway.

Castiel shifted and Dean glanced up to see the angel looking at him again. There was more than just the tired grief in his eyes, however. There was an emotion there that surprised Dean.

Castiel's jaw tensed, eyes sharper than before.

"We have one last option," he said suddenly, shattering the intense silence.

Dean had no idea how to answer that. "What is it?" Deborah asked, breath shaky, sitting closer.

The angel looked at her with the same fierce look. "You will not like it," he told her. Turning back to Dean, Castiel raised his head, just slightly. "I… do not like it."

Dean didn't like that look on his face. It didn't suit the man he had grown to know as a weary, but kind soldier. "Cas?" he asked, wary. He slowed the car, pulling over to the side of the road. The car stilled and the three were left in a cold silence.

Castiel had a plan. A plan meant a lot of things. They could die, or be smote, or dragged to hell, or tortured or just obliterated into the nothings they actually were. It might work, or might not. It could be success, or terrible failure… or something horribly in between like last time.

But… they would be trying. Dean took another breath, realizing he had been holding it that whole time.

Sam's death would not be pointless. Not as long… as they tried.

"I am going to answer Gabriel and bring him here," Castiel announced. "We have less than an hour to do this."

Dean looked at the angel and then back at Deborah, who stared back with wide, terrified eyes. Slowly, the last Winchester met Castiel's eyes and saw the pitiful blue gleam back through the darkness between them.

They had no choice but to try.

"Okay."

0000

7:04 PM

Dean wasn't surprised when he heard the fluttering of multiple wings, and he certainly wasn't surprised when he saw Raphael stalking toward them across the empty stretch of road with two of his soldiers behind him. Between Gabriel standing behind him and Castiel on the ground in front of them, Dean knew they must have been easy to find.

Gabriel said nothing, only smirked, as Raphael approached. Castiel was slower to react, however, but he was a little busy. Leaning up over top of Deborah, the last of Castiel's Grace flowed away from her face and back into his own vessel. When the glowing subsided, Castiel gave his approaching superior a look Dean could identify as hatred.

Good.

"Castiel," Raphael began, warningly.

"It is done," Castiel shot back immediately. He stood up proper, not bending an inch in the presence of his rival. "You have your holy child, to confront the half-breed." A shadow fell over his eyes. "Our deal is completed, Raphael."

As if this had been a business transaction. Raphael's expression gave nothing away as he looked down from Castiel and gazed down on Deborah, who still looked out of it and was breathing heavily. Dean could imagine having angelic Grace being stuffed down your throat being quite the burden. He personally felt ready to throw up.

"…So it is," Raphael said, apparently accepting whatever he was seeing in the woman. Dean swallowed hard; apparently, it had worked then. Deborah was going to be a mother. Suddenly, Raphael flinched, looking beyond Dean. "Gabriel?"

Dean turned and saw the other missing archangel saunter up around Castiel, looking mighty smug. "Heeeey there, brother dearest," the shorter angel said, holding up spread arms cheekily. "Miss me?"

Apparently news of his death had reached the other angel, or at least, Raphael was just surprised to see his AWOL brother. "How—?" the other archangel began, flustered, but surprisingly, not angry.

"What, you think Cassy gets to be the favorite of the family all the time?" Gabriel interrupted, jerking his head over at Castiel. Gabriel seemed far too pleasant for the situation. "I guess the Big Guy still has plans for me after all."

"Why are you here?" Raphael demanded, now giving Dean and Castiel a suspicious look. Dean was distracted when he saw Deborah trying to stand, so he moved to help her, lifting her carefully. She stepped backwards and he let her go; she didn't want to be touched now.

Gabriel laughed heartily. "Thought the little bro and his blushing bride might need some help with, ya know, the exchange." He waggled his eyebrows, the epitome of asshole at the moment. "I was there at the first one, you know." Dean really didn't want to know the implications of that.

Raphael stared at him, wary. "…So you were," he finally conceded. His eyes when to Deborah as she turned around, looking speechless. Raphael nodded at her, all ceremony. "Rise, daughter of Eve. You have brought salvation this night with your choice."

Something snapped in Deborah's eyes. Stumbling backwards further toward their car, covering herself more with her hands, she snarled up at the assortment of angels. "My choice? SCREW YOU!" she yelled, eyes wide with pain and grief. "Y-you're not angels! You're monsters! If I hadn't said yes, you would have killed all of us!"

The dark-skinned bastard had the nerve to look shocked by Deborah's angry declaration. "She's got a point, Raphy," Gabriel added, chuckling. The only reason Dean didn't get angry about him laughing was because of the suddenly dark look in the archangel's eyes. Gabriel was just as in on their plans as they were.

"Silence," Raphael snapped, irritable now. "Heaven will have its peace, as will Earth."

A snarl lurked somewhere in Dean's chest. He was done standing silently on the sidelines. His turn. "Yeah… an apocalypse, all over again," he said, sarcasm catching the angel's attentions. "How peaceful."

Raphael's eyes got even colder, if possible. "Dean Winchester… I am beginning to tire of seeing your face," he said, voice like ice. Dean glared back, not intimidated.

"Well, get used to it," the human snapped. "I ain't leaving this one. No way." Even though he was silent, Dean knew Castiel would back him up. Gabriel might even if he really was serious about this.

They all had their part in this, after all.

"It is not your place," Raphael shot back in anger, not realizing how wrong he was.

Dean decided to keep up the arrogant tone. "Anytime one of you winged nutjobs does something down here, it's my place," he said, crossing his arms, daring the angel mentally to say different.

Raphael's glare was almost as tactile as a laser beam. Dean was suddenly very glad their team had their own archangel… for once. Instead of continuing the argument, Raphael turned back to Castiel, accusing. "You hid her from us. Why?"

"It was from demons," Castiel lied immediately, nodding his head respectfully, though there was an edge to his voice and gaze. "There were some nearby, so we dispersed them and I gave Deborah the seal to protect her from future attacks."

"There is no need for such a thing," Raphael shot back, as if the idea of Castiel taking matters into his own hands was more detrimental than protecting against demon attacks.

Dean was pleased to note Castiel had either taken lessons on being a manipulative bastard, or had just paid close attention to Dean from their previous trips together. "On the contrary," Castiel began pointedly, "we will need every bit of our power to protect her, if your fears of Jesse are correct. He will find her and kill her to kill the child."

Oh, yeah, that was solid. Raphael glared at Castiel, but said nothing. Dean glanced over and saw Gabriel was still smiling, not revealing a thing.

"…You have a point," Raphael said after a long moment of glaring.

Castiel kept going. "Dean has suggested a place to lodge her, as well, since she is against going home, putting her family in danger," he said. He wasn't looking at Deborah, however; Dean didn't blame him. "Bobby Singer's home is in an obscure area. Perfectly safe to guard and to live in for her. There won't be any problems there."

Those were logical and pretty sound suggestions to Dean. He had helped come up with them, so of course he agreed. Bobby wasn't in the loop yet, but once they gave him the details, Dean was sure the older hunter wouldn't mind. They needed Deborah where they wanted her, not where Raphael planned. They needed to keep the ball in their court, after all.

Raphael's suspicions did not die down. "Why are you suddenly complying?" he demanded, giving Castiel a judging look. There was, at least a little bit, a bit of apprehensive hope in his voice, however, like he wanted to believe it would be that easy.

"Perhaps I see your point in this, Raphael," Castiel replied evenly, unimpressed. He played the passive-aggressive role all too well. "Even if I disagree with destroying this world, Jesse Turner, if he truly has turned to an evil nature, is a threat. It must be handled."

Apparently underestimating how human his angelic brother was, Raphael smirked. "It is good to see there is at least some rational sense left in you," he said, sounding smug. Dean relaxed slightly; the war was most likely going to be over now. One mess down…

"My brothers…" Raphael suddenly said, "we must rebuild what we have left after Michael. Gabriel, you must help."

"Uhhh, no." Gabriel crossed his arms, again cheeky. "I think I'll pass."

Dean felt unease rise up in his gut, as it fell to Gabriel now to uphold his part of this. He couldn't bring himself to trust the angel completely not to mess it up on purpose or just for his own amusement. To his relief, and probably to Castiel's, Gabriel kept to the script.

"What?" Raphael demanded sharply, now alarmed.

Gabriel ignored his older brother's shout. "You see, I already picked myself a nice little job right here," he replied smoothly, unimpressed as he gestured to himself. "Holy Babysitter, remember?"

Raphael glared, suspicion rising in his expression. "That is a gross understatement of your skills—," he began heatedly.

"Not what you all said last time," Gabriel countered with more effort than Dean was expecting. Gabriel pointed at Deborah, looked ready to fade into the side of the car. "This kid is going to save everything, Raphael. If it doesn't deserve an archangel on its shoulders, what does?"

"I agree," Dean added, helping the shorter man along. "He might be an ass, but he'll be more than a good deterrent for any cocky demons trying to take a swipe at either Deborah or the baby."

That was probably the sanest and most solid excuse they had for this part of the arrangement. Raphael stared at Gabriel with narrowed eyes, mulling over the words.

"It is strange you would jump up so quickly to this role, Gabriel," he said carefully, a threat somewhere inside his tone.

Scoffing, Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Hey, I was brought back and this is suddenly happening? Helllllo. Obviously, this was supposed to happen," he replied. "We got this one in the bag, baby."

Raphael said nothing about the implication God had brought Gabriel back—the answer had been as vague as Castiel's resurrection had been—considering the archangel had repeatedly said that God was dead. Maybe all of the dead angels springing back to life was beginning to wear on Raphael's faith in a godless world. Dean hoped it kept him up at night.

The tension on that road only grew as the two groups just stared at each other, waiting for, well, something. Dean glanced around and saw Deborah leaning against her father's car, looking haunted. They had to get her back home, at least for tonight.

"I dunno about you guys, but I'm excited," Gabriel suddenly announced, deciding to break that awkward silence. He grinned out at the weary faces. "I'm going to be an uncle!"

Dean snarled, waving his hand in frustration at the chuckling trickster. "Get the hell out of here, Gabriel." They didn't need him around now, not unless Raphael got too nosy. With their luck, that could be anytime, he thought reluctantly.

Gabriel just chuckled. "Adios," he said grandly, leering at them before disappearing with a snap of the fingers. Apparently, habits died hard.

That left the rest of them standing there, however. Dean had never felt more awkward or out of place.

"We shall take Deborah back to her home, to gather her things," Castiel announced, catching Raphael's eyes. "If we are going to do this, Raphael, I want this done properly and right." And that meant not just dumping the woman in a new house immediately. Dean refused to do that to her. They'd give her a few days and then figure out how to do this with the least amount of damages.

Deborah just closed her eyes, exhausted.

"You expect anything less from me, brother?" Raphael asked with a sneer.

"I don't know what to expect from you, Raphael," Castiel replied, coldly. He turned his back on the other angel, expression darker now. "Let's go, Dean."

Dean turned around to help Deborah back into the Hatchback and he heard the fluttering of wings. Raphael either trusted them, or more likely, was more comfortable with watching them from afar to make sure there wasn't a trick in play. They had to move very carefully.

"I need to return to Heaven… to make sure he keeps to his part of the deal," Castiel said quietly, looking up at Dean. The forest on either side of the road was deathly silent.

Dean looked up at his friend and nodded, grim. "I just hope to God this works, Cas."

"It had better." He looked over at the car, where the shivering young woman in side was doing her best to look at everything but them. A shadow crossed over Castiel's face. "For everyone's sake."

Walking around to the driver's side, Dean didn't reply to that. He drove Deborah home, reluctant to leave her to talk to her parents alone, but she said she'd be okay. From her tight voice and shaking limbs, Dean didn't believe her, but he let her go. Castiel left to get the Impala for him and then vanished off to Heaven to finish a war.

That night, when he pulled into a motel parking lot for the first time in what seemed like ages, Dean did something he hadn't done in a long time:

He bent his head and prayed.

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End The Beginning: Part Two

Next: Week One


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A/Ns:
-Yes, this was long, but for this story, each chapter is a "Week" so yeah, they're going to be long. Consider them to be episodes.
-And before any of you ask, What happened?, please note that the mystery is the whole point of this story. ;) You'll find out what exactly happened when Raphael does. That won't happen for a while, so enjoy ten months of mysterious build up, y'all.