"Puppies?" Bobby looked like he was waiting for the punch line; for Dean to admit that they were just kidding about the last part.

"Puppies." He hated to disappoint, but Dean couldn't have made half of that stuff up. "I was half expecting Cas to try and bring the Lab home." He looked over, expecting a nod or small smile. Instead, the angel looked affronted.

"War is no place for Snickerdoodle." Dean squirmed under disapproving angel glare for a bit then Cas's expression softened. "However, our time together was enjoyable, and I may have considered it under other circumstances."

Well, now Dean felt like an asshole. Of course he hadn't meant that Cas would ever endanger the dog- just that they'd really seemed to hit it off.

Sam finally broke the uncomfortable silence, "I'm sure that's what Dean meant." His brother had a natural talent for peacekeeping, so long as their father was not involved anywhere in the equation. Then it was left to Dean to try and keep the damage down to a minimum. There were countless busted up motels that would testify that he'd never been quite as tactful as Sam.

From where he stood, Dean met Cas's eyes and nodded. That was exactly what he'd meant. Even if his mouth went and said stupid things, he generally didn't mean them. He knew when the angel relaxed slightly that all was forgiven. The tension drained out of his body and Dean let out a relieved breath. Looking back at the table, he was in time to catch Bobby and Sam shrugging at each other. "What?"

Bobby rolled his eyes, "What? You're the only ones who can share significant looks? Give us a break, boy." Bobby shook his head, cutting off any argument, "Let's just skip to the part where we are making a game plan."

"So," Sam frowned in thought, "She said to get the colt? She thinks we can actually track it down?"

"The simurgh was very specific about that." Cas affirmed.

"The good news is I may not end up a used angel condom!" Dean enthusiastically joked. When three faces turned to him in almost perfect unison to stare at him gravely, he could tell it had fallen flat.

Sammy looked at him like he'd really stepped in it this time. And judging from the way Cas and Bobby were glaring, that was probably not too far off a guess. Damn his mouth. It never failed when he got uncomfortable, he got talkative. Which was fine when you were bullshitting bravery in the face of some evil sonofabitch, but caused problems when in other social situations.

"Life as a catatonic cripple is a poor fate." Cas intoned, "It would be a better fate than the one I fear you'll face if you serve as a vessel for Michael."

Damn it, it looked like he couldn't do anything right today. "I know, Cas." He wondered if he were blushing. His face felt hot, and he was being scolded by a freaking angel so blushing would probably be an appropriate response. In all his life of rather spectacular moments of potential embarrassment, Dean could not really remember a time that felt like this. He really should have known better than to make that comment. What made it suck so much was not that Cas wanted to hurt or embarrass him, but that Cas was genuinely concerned.

"Do you, Dean?" Cas shook his head. "Michael would smite Lucifer, or perhaps send him back to his prison in the pit. But in the process whole cities would be razed; mountains leveled in the battles. Countless innocent lives lost because it wouldn't occur to Michael to behave in a different way." Castiel looked away, to the window that overlooked Singer Auto Yard. "And if you were left intact, if the archangel did not consume you wholly in some misconception of mercy…" He nearly spat the last word, making it sound filthy. "Then you would have to live with that guilt. Of being the last face people saw as they died needlessly. And it would kill you."

Castiel looked back then down at his vessel, "I was… While Jimmy was here I tried to be considerate. As much as I understood it then." He closed his eyes a moment. "And I still put him through shootings. Stabbings." He looked at Bobby and Dean in turn. Then he looked down at his hands. "I told a young girl, who couldn't possibly understand what was going on, that I was not. Her. Father." Castiel looked back up at Dean, "What I have done is mild compared to the things Michael would to."

"Boy, if the guilt didn't kill you, the angry mobs would." Bobby finished gravely.

Dean met Sam's eyes. No, that was not something Dean could ever live with. Just the thought of it made his stomach turn. He shook himself firmly. "Well, that's not gonna happen." Dean set his expression to stubborn. "We're going to get the colt, and I'm going to shoot the son of a bitch." In the face he added mentally. "All right Cas, letting Michael come to the party wearing me like a cocktail dress isn't even Plan F."

"Good. So let's stop jawin' about it and get to work!" Bobby interrupted and slammed his palms down on the table.

Anyone else may have jumped, but Dean actually relaxed at the gesture. He really hated these moments. None of them were the touchy feely types all eager to talk about their feelings, even if Sammy played the part. For Dean, who much preferred actions to words, analyzing how he felt and then saying it was just as uncomfortable as hell. No, scratch that, hell was ultimately more uncomfortable, as he well knew. The image Dean suddenly had of Alistair sipping tea and talking about his inner turmoil was funny in a really creepy, wrong way.

Dean dragged his mind out of that creepy ass gutter and focused on the here and now.

"So, the last place we knew the colt was… where?" Bobby opened a large map of the United States and spread it over the table.

"Pittsburgh." Sam replied, his face grim.

The less said about the loss of the colt, the better. Bela was still a sore point. Just another in a long life of Things They Didn't Talk About. And the thing that really pissed Dean off was that they would have helped her if only she'd asked.

"Right, I say we look for demon sign that occurred anywhere in this area." Bobby traced his finger in a wide circle around the city. "She would have gotten rid of it as quickly as possible. She wouldn't want risk you catching on too quickly and getting to her before she could make the hand off."

"This is going to take time." Sam frowned at the map. "We have months to make up for. And if it hasn't been kept in one place long…"

"We need to narrow down our search somehow. If we jump at any demon activity we are just going to keep running in circles. There is demon activity popping up all over." Dean thought tracking it was a fine idea, if only they had the time.

"Look for small signs." Cas's eyes ran over the map. "No demon of rank would be in the presence of the colt for long if it could help it."

"What?" It didn't make much sense to Dean. "They'd leave it to some low level peons so protect it?"

"Yes. Exactly." Cas nodded.

"Well…" Sam trailed off thoughtfully. "Here is something that can kill a demon, no matter how big and bad they may be. Anything goes wrong, an uppity underling or a hunter catches them off guard, and they could die. No exorcism back home, but destroyed."

Put like that, it did make a certain amount of twisted sense. "So, a big bad, probably Lilith herself, grabs it from Bela and hikes it to some underling."

Bobby nodded in agreement. "Problem is, even if it will be less protected by lower level pukes, it means they can hide better. There is low level sign going on all over."

That was a concern. "For now, I think we need to focus on pinpointing a large demon sign in that are at the time. It gets us one step closer to know where it was." It felt good to have a direction again. Now what to do with a re-haloed angel…

"Shit!" The exclamation halted all other conversation and caused both Sam and Bobby to scan the room, searching for danger. Cas just looked over at Dean. "Cas! Your mojo is back! You can strap on your halo and heal Bobby."

Castiel blinked. It seemed Dean may have surprised Cas. "You are correct. Forgive me, Mr. Singer." He reached for Bobby, only for the older hunter to wheel back out of reach.

"Hold on there, Featherbrain, you too, idjit." Bobby looked between them then focused on Cas. "Do your asshole brothers know you're been plugged back into Heaven's holy electrical socket?"

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing, "What are you talking about? What does it matter if they do?"

"It matters if they don't! Right now he isn't considered a major threat. Just some annoyance they could swat like a fly if he is within reach." Cas deflated a bit, but Bobby continued, "They don't care if we have a mojoless angel helping, but if they find out he's back in action, they might just bring out the big guns. Right now if he's out of sight; he's out of mind."

Bobby wheeled himself back to the table. "It's called strategic thinking. Learn it and then apply it some time." The 'dumbass' was left unsaid but was heavily implied. "If you've got a weapon the enemy doesn't know about, don't show it off until you can be damn sure it is the perfect time." Bobby looked down at his chair. "I'd like to get up now and do a jig, but the longer you can keep your nuke with wings under cover- the better."

Sam choked at the last statement, Dean grinned, cuz yeah Cas as a nuke with wings was a funny image. Just how would he keep the trench coat on? But why did Bobby have to have a point? And Dean knew that if he asked Cas to do it anyway Bobby's first action with working legs would be to kick his ass.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Singer." Cas did sound genuinely regretful, but he still moved back to his seat.

"Don't be sorry. Just be sure that when your cover is blown you live long enough to get me out of this damn chair." He scowled but just enough to prove he was serious. "And it's Bobby."

Nodding solemnly, Cas tried it, "Bobby."

"Well, don't wear it out now!"

"I will endeavor to restore you prior to my unmaking." Castiel stated as if it were a foregone conclusion.

"Hey now, no one is getting unmade." Dean looked around the room. "Not you, not Sam, not Bobby." As if with just his stubbornness he could make it so. However, he could easily tell Sam and Bobby weren't buying it. They knew too well that this was probably going to end bloody for all of them. If they beat the devil or not, there were still angels to fight. And the odds were just not in their favor.

"And you?" Castiel asked simply, not accusing like Sammy or Bobby may have been at the omission.

Even though Cas was centuries older than anyone in the room, he still seemed so naïve at times that Dean just wanted to shelter him from all of this. He wanted to keep the angel safe somewhere far away from the fighting with a small puppy for a companion. And it is fucking ridiculous because he'd seen Cas tear through demons and angels alike. He'd seen him go all 'mean mother fucking servant of God'! This angel had fought his way into and out of hell. And Cas still had faith that they could pull it out in the end.

"Yeah, Cas. Me too." Dean was not about to strip away any more of the angel's faith. Not if he could help it. Dean's lips twitched as he looked back at the map. So many places the colt could be, and it wasn't even limited to the States.

"What are you going to do now, Cas?" Sam questioned the angel, drawing Dean's attention away from the map. He frowned faintly when he saw Sam's eyes get that sympathetic puppy look that worked so well on witnesses. Something clenched in Dean's gut and wouldn't let go.

"What do you mean?" Cas did his confused head tilt and Dean wondered how much manipulative body language a single room could hold. He crossed his arms and watched Sam's patented 'I'm here for you' face scrunch meet the 'cuddle me and make the bad thoughts go away' head tilt Cas invented. Dean considered this to be especially cute because Cas hadn't been around humans long, so he most likely had no idea just what he was tapping into.

It was like Clash of the (gut tugging) Titans.

"You were actively searching for God, but…" Sam paused and Dean counted the standard three 'I'm looking for a gentle way to put this' beats. "The simurgh told you it was useless. What will you do?" If Sam went for the hug, Dean may have to punch him. A glance told him Bobby was none too impressed either

"I don't know." Cas looked down and Dean uncrossed his arms. The angel looked so dejected; it was like the necklace all over again. But this time Dean didn't know how to make it better. He looked to Sammy who was, for some reason, watching him.

Sam surprised Dean by uttering the words he never expected to hear, "Come hunt with us."

The relationship between his brother and his angel was polite at best. For the most part, Sam never really got over the disappointment of what angels really were, i.e. manipulative dicks. And Cas had trouble with the whole demon blood taint and addiction. All those reasons would have made it damn awkward for Dean to have suggested it. But if Sammy was willing to give it a try…

It seemed Cas was just as startled; he just sat there a few moments before nodding "If you believe I will be helpful." The last part he directed at Dean.

Helpful? He had to be joking. No, angel. So, he wasn't joking. His Cas seemed to be the only angel with self-esteem issues. He tucked that away for later, for now he slung an arm casually over Cas's shoulders. "Of course you can help! Haven't you been watching? Sammy and I get our asses handed to us regularly."

"Hey!"

Dean ignored Sam's indignant shout. "Even if you aren't flexing your mojo, you can definitely help us out." This was going to be epic.

"Well, now that we are done sharing and caring, I just so happen to have a hunt all lined up." Bobby's falsely cheerful voice interrupted as he dropped a manila folder on the map that still covered the table. Dean dropped his arm from Cas's shoulders. He felt pretty good about the whole situation so far, and it looked like there was going to be a field test of this new group dynamic soon. Dean paused and cursed Dean Smith and Zachariah again.

The downside was they weren't going to get a few days R&R. Dean and Sam shrugged at each other, resigned. The apocalypse waited for no man.

"What do you have, Bobby?" Dean asked as they all leaned over the table to get a good look at the information. He was distracted a moment by just how close Cas stood to his left. Just to his left and a little behind, in fact. So the Angel was peering over his shoulder at the pictures of missing people. So close Dean could smell him.

They'd had a conversation about personal space, but it never seemed to stick. It didn't matter that Dean knew the angel didn't mean anything by it and didn't really care anymore at this point if Cas got up in his space. The fact was if he was going to interact with people, someone was going to take offense to Cas's habit of encroaching on space. But he would remind the angel some other time.

Dean refocused on the hunt, and happily Sam was already getting to the point. "So, what do you think is taking them?"

Bobby hesitated, leafing through the reports, finally giving up on finding a better conclusion. "It sounds like the Wild Hunt."

"The Wild Hunt?" Sam's voice went up a few octaves, disbelieving. "I know we specialize in the unbelievable but, fairies?"

"I thought they were all about grabbing men in the woods who were in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Dean shuddered, but tried to recall more of the stories.

"Well, they haven't been in the news as much as the three kids, but two hunters have also gone missing. Now, I didn't say it was a perfect fit, but it is the best we got based on these accounts." Bobby pushed the folder to Sam, who began to flip through it all.

"The motives of the Fey are strange and alien." Cas spoke softly, obviously troubled.

Dean nodded, the humor of the pot calling the kettle black was not lost on him, but he decided he'd stuck his foot in his mouth enough for one day. Dean stretched, feeling no less than two vertebrae pop. The last few hours were catching up with him quickly. "All right. We head out tomorrow at seven." He turned and clapped Cas on the shoulder, "Come on, I'll make you up a room for the night." He would leave Sammy here to burn the pertinent details into his gigantic brain.

"But, I do not-" Even as he protested, the angel turned and followed Dean up the large wooden staircase to the second floor of Bobby's house.

"Don't give me that. You're going to be hunting with us; you need a crash course in humanity." Dean made sure not to sound angry or accusing. He certainly wasn't angry that Cas didn't know these little details of human life. He was just concerned that the angel would get himself into trouble some day. "Waiting by the side of the road until we wake up isn't going to cut it." Dean had realized after his trip to the future and close encounter of the douchey kind with Zachariah that standing by the roadside actually was what the angel spent a lot of time doing. And it was just weird. A benign weird but other people, the kinds of people who call police about men who stood late at night by the side of the road wearing trench coats, wouldn't know that.

And he'd like to avoid his angel getting picked up for malicious loitering. So, human lesson number one: spending the night in a room and at least pretending to sleep.

Dean stopped at the linen closet at the top of the stairs and pulled out some 'fresh' sheets. Like much of the house they smelled of disuse. Dust tickled his nose and eyes as he gathered the folded fabric; he stifled a sneeze as best he could.

He waited for it, and was just a little disappointed when it never came. Dean looked over his shoulder as he opened the door to a bedroom next to the one designated 'Dean's'. "What," he went for a hurt pout, "no 'Bless you'?"

Following close behind, Cas stood stiffly in the room. "That tradition holds no actual merit and is based on erroneous-"

Dean shoved the blankets he'd stripped from the bed at Cas, effectively cutting off his diatribe. Cash held the blankets like they were made from nuclear waste material and Dean had to quickly turn to hold back his laugh. "Man, I was kidding. Besides, a 'Bless you' from you would probably be seriously over powered mojo. Who knows what might have happened."

"You might never have sneezed again." Dean froze, hands under one corner of the mattress, tucking the fitted sheet. He slowly turned his head, but saw only Castiel, looking like he was on the verge of a grin.

Dean shook his head and smiled as he went back to his task. It could have been a joke, or a sincere statement of the possibility. Not being one hundred percent sure was just part of the Cas adventure.

Dean finished with the sheets. He turned, pulled the sheets from Cas's tenuous hold and finished making the bed in record time. He had no illusion that the angel would actually use it, but it made him feel better to have something simple to do. He paused when he sensed Cas encroach on his personal space. Briefly, Dean considered making another space argument, but it hadn't worked the first few times, and so he'd probably best just give up and focus on other things. He turned and, as he'd expected, Cas was only inches away looking at him like Dean was the one with all the knowledge in the Universe. "So, I am to remain in this room until morning?"

Leave it to Cas to be so very simple. Not stupid, but just straight forward. Zachariah and Uriel and their ilk seemed to be all about the manipulation and subtle undertones. Only Castiel would hear 'room for the night' and take it to mean exactly that, the room where he must spend the night.

Dean tossed the pillow back to the head of the bed and focused on Castiel, "You sleepy, Cas?"

The angel in question frowned in confusion, "Of course not, Dean." The look was one the list of expressions Dean found himself to be weak against. It seemed the list was a growing one, and soon he was going to have to reexamine Cas's expressions as to whether they were 'accidental' or not. He found himself giving in to them far too often for his peace of mind.

"All right then," Dean gestured to the door. "Let's go." Sure he was exhausted, but he wasn't going to just dump Cas in the room and leave him alone to sit in the dark his first night in a strange place.

"Go where?" Cas followed him back down the stairs and into the library.

He could hear the quiet scratch of turning pages and silence otherwise. Dean's quick glace reassured him that if the open tomes spread over the table were any indication, Sammy wouldn't be missing his baby any time soon. Quietly, Dean slipped the laptop from Sam's bag, ignoring the 'Hands Off Dean!' sticker. Sam may mock Dean's love for the Impala, but his little brother was not above his own inanimate attachments.

Castiel eyed the laptop in his hand, frowning at the sticker. "Why are you taking the laptop?"

Reaching out, Dean hushed the angel with his fingers before Sam could hear any more questions. He grabbed Cas's arm and led him into the living room area. He carefully stepped around piled of books and boxes before balancing the laptop on a pedestal of old magazines and newspapers. He dug around, careful of the precarious balance of the many towering periodicals in the room, before finding an outlet to plug the laptop into. "Bobby has a great place, but his entertainment options are limited." Dean pointed to the ancient TV and disused VCR that flashed an incessant twelve o'clock. "Even I have to bow to the high tech at times." He frowned and pushed the power button with determination. Never would he stoop to CDs or, heaven… God... Castiel forbid, MP3s.

"So, you are going to research?" Cas sounded very unsure of that possibility, and Dean smiled with pride. It showed Cas knew about them well enough to know that the laptop was primarily for research. But Dean's first choice of activity would never be research. For Dean, research ranked up there with washing Sam's gigantic under things. Necessary for the good of the world, but something Dean really would rather not do.

Clicking through a few folders, Dean considered and dismissed some options before he found the winner. "Cas, I'm going to introduce you to one of my heroes." He grabbed Castiel's hand and dragged the angel down onto the couch beside him. He was slightly surprised when Cas flopped gracelessly next to him, but paid it little mind. "Batman, meet Castiel: Badass angel of the Lord. Castiel, meet Nolanverse Batman." Dean double clicked on the file and sat back. This was going to kick so much ass.

It didn't surprise him how fast the movie went. He always got so into it; time lost all meaning. What did surprise him a little was how into it Cas got. The angel seemed lost in the action, jumping and gasping at various scenes. One time, the angel even grabbed at his arm, though he wasn't sure if it were to seek protection, like he would expect from some chick he took to the movie, or to zap them away from danger.

The next moment Cas had blinked guiltily before releasing Dean's arm and turning his attention back to the small glowing screen. Dean didn't say anything. Hell, it pleased him the angel got so caught up in the action. It was just more proof Castiel was one of the good guys if he could appreciate Batman.

So when bright blue eyes turned to him and Cas asked if there were more, Dean forgot all about how early seven am came. He clicked on The Dark Knight and let it roll.

This time there was a lot more jumping. At some point, about midway, Cas grabbed Dean's wrist and held on. It was about when the Joker made his demands for Batman's identity, and Dean didn't mind. He'd forgotten just how scary the Joker had been. Perhaps this was a bit much for an angel's second exposure to cinema.

Dean turned his head away from the screen and studied Cas. The angel was totally focused on the movie, body tense as if he may have to fight or run at any second. Dean leaned over, "I can stop it, you know. It's just a movie." Even as he said it, he cringed inside. But as much as it wasn't just a movie to him- it might be too much for Cas, and the angel needed to know it could be stopped.

"No." Castiel didn't even glance away from the havoc and destruction the Joker wrought on downtown Gotham. "It is terrible, and the 'Joker' is expressing and exhibiting all the worst opinions my brothers hold toward humanity, but…" Castiel frowned as the Joker was arrested. "their madness is compelling."

"Their?" Dean didn't want to distract Castiel from the movie, but it was an interesting choice of pronoun.

"Their. They are all mad in some ways." Castiel still watched the movie, his face illuminated by the eerie glow. "The Joker is pure chaos. He is anarchy at its worst. His goal, if he really has one, is to prove that humans are at their heart violent dangerous animals that will turn on each other at a moment's notice. Harvey is obsessed with the idea of chance and the thought that the universe is actually fair." Castiel snorted. "Or he is convinced that it should be fair. It is a surprisingly idealistic philosophy for someone who should know better."

Dean held his tongue. Cas would find out about Harvey's naïveté and where it gets him soon enough.

"And Batman, who believes in order and basic human decency, is still so driven by vengeance that he is ruled by the need. He can never stop being Batman. Maybe because he was denied vengeance by his own hand against the man who killed his parents, he fills the void with the criminals he can punish. But in his crusade he is perhaps as corrupt as the Joker."

Smiling, Dean sat back. "You nailed it, Cas. Even Sammy didn't get it so quickly."

"Thank you." Cas squeezed his arm again. Perhaps because of the compliment or perhaps because of the interrogation.

Dean quieted and watched the rest of the movie in silence. When the credits rolled he didn't even need to hear the question, he just clicked on the first Batman movie. "Now, this was made years ago, by a different director, Tim Burton. It's got different actors too."

Cas nodded and Dean settled back against the couch's soft cushions, hiding a grin when Cas's hand rested on his arm again. He could just tell Cast that this movie was nowhere near as scary as the other two, but he decided Cas would figure it out.

And it was nice to be a protector against something so easy to defeat. He settled in for a long night. Dean promised himself they'd stop before Batman Forever.

The last thing Dean clearly remembered was Michelle Pfeiffer cart wheeling.

*************

Comments & Criticism would be awesome! *Also: Notice this was unbetaed! Unbetaed fics make kittens cry. My usual beta is having internet issues that may linger. We are unsure they may last. Would you be interested in the wild, underpaid world of being a harsh task master/grammar nazi? If so, send me a PM and we can work out details. =)