Chapter 7: You Gotta Fight for Your Right to Kill the Bastard

It was going to take longer than anyone was comfortable with to begin the siege on Heaven. As it turned out, Sam wasn't totally fixed up yet. Gabriel could do a lot, but it was going to take a couple more weeks for the Archangel's grace to fully work its way through Sam's veins. Or so Gabriel said.

Not to mention the fact that they had to make sure Castiel was ready to take on Metatron. If Dean had been displeased when he found out Sam was still sick, then he was full of nearly righteous fury at the idea that, apparently, Cas was going to have to kill Metatron himself.

Without his grace.

"You're human, Cas," Dean chastised the man like he didn't already know. Gabriel had flickered out again for a while doing God knows what and Charlie, Kevin, and Sam claimed research duties, so the kitchen was much more empty now. Henry didn't know where Mary stood in all of this, but he felt himself siding with Dean.

"Yes, Dean, I am aware of that," Cas said. He really was getting better at some human characteristics. Currently, Gabriel's classification as 'sarcastic bitch' was fitting more than Henry ever thought it would be.

"You have never had to fight as a human!" Dean said, throwing his hands up. "You won't have the same strength behind your hits, you can't just heal yourself, and you can't just fly away. These are all bad things."

"Again, I thank you for pointing out how I am less useful than I once was," Cas said, meeting Dean's green eyes with his own, flaming in anger.

"He has fought as a human before," Henry added, attempting not to shrink back when both fuming sets of eyes turned their attention to him instead. "When you cut off Pestilence's ring you were human. Mostly."

"Yeah, mostly," Dean sniffed. Cas glared at him again.

"Do you think me useless as a human, Dean?" he challenged.

"Of course not," Dean said, rolling his eyes. Castiel puffed himself up in anger, and Henry expected that, if the man had still had wings, they would have been outstretched wide above his head. Still, even without them, Castiel looked the most like a Warrior of God that he had since returning to the bunker.

"You know I am a soldier," Cas said. "I still know how to fight, no matter my physical limitations."

"He took you down when you did still have your grace, Cas. Who knows what he'll do now," Dean said.

"He beat me because I was not expecting a betrayal," Cas responded, voice icy.

"Boys, simmer down," Mary's voice soothed. Henry winced for her sympathetically as Dean turned his anger towards her instead of Castiel.

"I won't 'simmer down' if he keeps acting like he's fucking invincible," he said. Mary didn't stand down, didn't even break her stare, and Henry had to hand it to her. Being on the receiving end of Dean's rage could be overwhelming.

"You mean, you wish for me to not act exactly as you do whenever someone you care for is in danger?" Castiel challenged. "What you want is for me to not live in recklessness the same way I ask you not to every time you run head-on into danger again and again?"

"I am asking you not to make me lose you again!" Dean roared, turning his full attention to Castiel. The man blinked his eyes once and the skin on his forehead softened slightly.

"I can't promise not to die any more than you can," Castiel said, voice calmer. The room was quiet for a moment as Dean's breathing calmed down as well. Mary stepped forward.

"Let him go find and give Metatron what he deserves," she said, a hand on Dean's arm. His left arm. Dean glanced down at where her hand was placed and Henry wondered how close it was to the handprint there, which he had still never seen.

"Then we spend the next two weeks making sure you are trained," Dean said, turning his head but not meeting Castiel's eyes.

"As you wish," Castiel said and Dean quirked his lips at the phrase. Castiel crossed the space between him and Dean and lifted Dean's chin with a finger, making their eyes meet. He lighted a quick kiss on Dean's lips.

"Remind me to make you watch The Princess Bride," Dean said. Castiel shook his head at Dean in amusement and turned away, walking out of the room and down the hall.

"You too, Henry," Dean said. Henry looked up at him.

"Huh? The Princess Bride?"

"What? No," Dean said. "We need to get you back to training too. Especially if I heard right and Mom here really did kick your ass." Dean smiled at him slyly along with Mary and Henry glared.

"She took me by surprise," he grumbled.

"Yeah, I think Cas just used that excuse," Dean said. He voice carried a strained humor, trying to lighten the mood in the room.

"Henry, you went down way too easy," Mary said, smile twinkling into her eyes. "I mean, I've been dead for 30 years and I still got the drop on you." Henry clenched his jaw in an annoyed huff and Dean flickered a smile to his mom.

"C'mon, old man, you going to take that?" Dean asked. Henry sighed.

"Yes, fine, training," he said. Dean laughed at him.

"Can I ask something," Mary said. Her hand was still on Dean's shoulder. "Can I see it?"

"See what?" Dean asked, looking at her.

"The… your shoulder," she responded awkwardly. She let go of him and gestured to the shoulder she had been holding. Dean's face sank into annoyance and he turned to Henry.

"You told her about that?" he asked. Henry opened his mouth to respond but Mary beat him there.

"Hey, he didn't tell me. Sam did." Mary said. Dean opened his mouth but Mary plowed onwards. "And you don't get to be upset with your brother either because you should have told me first."

"Yeah, because that's so easy to bring up in a conversation," Dean scoffed. "Hey, do you want turkey for dinner? Oh, and by the way, I went to Hell and my angel boyfriend is the one who pulled me out. Want to see the scar?" Henry swallowed a smile.

"Boyfriend?" he asked. Dean waved him off.

"Whatever," he said. "Fine, I'll show you. But I'm still going to kick Sam's ass." He looked at Mary uncomfortably and then pulled off his top shirt layer, placing it over a chair so he stood there in just a T-shirt. He looked up the ceiling like he was questioning his entire existence, then pulled of the T-shirt too.

Henry wasn't quite on the right side of Dean to see the mark right. From where he was he could only see a couple of red/pink bits of skin slightly raised. Mary was looking at it head on, eyes wide. Henry circled around Dean just in time to see Mary silently request permission to touch it, holding up her hand and raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, go ahead," Dean sighed. Henry stared. It wasn't that he hadn't known what the mark would look like. He had read about it, sure, but here it was: an actual burn in the shape of a handprint on Dean's shoulder.

Mary reached out a careful finger and touched the raised skin lightly. She glanced at Dean to gauge his reaction but he barely seemed to notice.

"We should get Charlie in here," Henry said, quirking one corner of his mouth up. "She'd probably die to see this." Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed his T-shirt back off of the chair, effectively brushing Mary's hand away as he pulled it back on.

"And Cas's hand?" Henry asked, silently begging for a bit more leniency from Dean than he normally got. It worked, apparently, Dean filling in the rest of the sentence.

"Fits perfect, yup," Dean said. He rolled his shoulder and shrugged on his loose, green, button-down shirt over the lighter T-shirt, leaving it hanging open as he always did.

"Now, don't think you can distract me forever," Dean said, turning on Henry. "Time to train, Gramps." Henry groaned loudly.

"I thought we agreed not to call me that," he said, cursing Gabriel for bringing the nickname up again.

"I don't know," Mary said, smiling the same way Dean was now, "I think it suits you." So that was the end of it, then. Henry had been with this group long enough to know that the nickname was going to stick, especially for the sake of pissing him the hell off.

Dean wandered out of the room, head held high, and Henry followed quickly after, heading down the same way: to the training room.

Castiel was already in the room when they got there, arms folded and looking around with interest at the various weapons on the walls. He was still in a pair of jeans and a shirt – from Dean's closet, presumably. Without the trench coat and suit, he looked more like he belonged in the room than he would have before.

"Alright, let's start with me and Henry," Dean said, striding to the middle of the room. Mary stayed just inside the door, leaning against the frame in interest. Castiel backed away to stand near her without saying a word, only keeping his eyes on Dean. Henry sighed and undid his dark blue shirt, pulling it off and throwing it into a corner to reveal his white undershirt.

Henry walked to the middle of the room to stand carefully in front of Dean, looking for the sign that Dean was about to move towards him. He caught the movement every now and then. He was getting better. The spectators by the door stayed quiet still and Henry took a deep breath and settled his feet in. He caught the twitch, a slight movement of Dean's right arm, and was ready when the other man shot out a punch.

Henry dodged the first blow deftly, jumping to one side and holding up an arm. He moved forward with a couple jabs of his own, but Dean guarded himself with ease and used the distraction to pull a fast fist up into Henry's stomach.

Henry coughed as the air left him and he heard Mary hiss sympathetically. What was she even doing here? Henry thought. Was this just supposed to be entertaining?

He stumbled back a few steps and Dean didn't attack him, just gave him a moment to catch his breath and lurch forward again, throwing out a right armed punch and following it with a left fist upwards, attempting to catch Dean's chin, but he missed. Even with his balance thrown off from dodging Henry, Dean still had a better executed response. He used his backwards leaning momentum to kick a leg outward and catch Henry's knee.

Henry cried out in pain, falling forward and Dean grabbed his shoulder, throwing him to the ground without another blow. The whole exchange hadn't taken very long and Dean had effectively destroyed him. Henry breathed hard into the matted floor and tried to push himself up.

"Nice job, Henry," Dean said. He reached out a hand to help henry up, which he took gratefully, swaying to his feet.

"Nice?" Henry asked. He put his hands on his knees and leaned forward. "You demolished me."

"Not as fast as I used to," Dean said. Henry huffed in a way that sounded almost like a laugh when something occurred to him.

"I beat you," he said. Dean gave him a confused look. "No, before Sam woke up. I beat you and that's why you let me go on that hunt where we found Mary." Dean glanced at his mother when she was mentioned and looked back at Henry.

"Yeah, you beat me that time," he said. "Shit happens. You next, Cas?" Castiel opened his mouth but Henry interrupted him before he could start.

"Wait, did you let me win?" Henry asked. He followed Dean's eyes as they tracked around the room and wouldn't quite meat Henry's own. "You let me win! Jesus, Dean, were you really that stir crazy?"

"Yes, as a matter a fact, I was!" Dean said, sticking his hands into his pockets.

"Good thing our job isn't life or death, I suppose," Henry said. "Oh wait, it is! What if it hadn't been Mary who attacked me at the house? What would have happened?"

"Well, it was Mom, so let's not dwell," Dean said.

"Dean," Mary started.

"Cas, you're up," Dean said. He turned away from the frustrated looks of both Mary and Henry. Castiel walked forward in the same paced manner he always seemed to and stopped a few feet away from Dean's turned back.

"I am prepared, Dean," Castiel said.

"Then let's go," Dean turned around and settled himself in. "We'll start small." Henry saw the twitch and Dean lashed out but Castiel moved just as fast. There were a couple of limbs thrown out, all faster than Henry could process, and Dean was on the floor with Castiel standing over him.

"Whoa," Henry said. He practically wanted to clap.

"Damn," Mary said beside him. Dean groaned and pushed himself up, ignoring Castiel's outstretched hand.

"Fine," Dean hugged, facing Castiel angrily. "We'll go hard." Cas inclined but didn't move to any particular stance the way Dean did. This time there was no twitch of warning, and Dean began with a swift uppercut, Cas moving out of the way He grabbed Dean's arm before the hunter could retract it and pulled him forward and over his shoulder, tossing him onto his back before another punch could be thrown.

"Hey, Dean, need any help there?" Mary called teasingly. Henry grinned at her and chuckled lightly.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel said. "Do I need to lower my skill level?" He said it in that same innocent voice he always used but Henry saw it this time, the same way he sometimes saw Dean's muscle twitch before he attacked in a fight: Castiel was teasing.

"Don't be a bitch, Cas," Dean said, standing up.

"I don't intend to be difficult," Castiel said, "I simply don't want to hurt you." Dean steeled up his face to flare at Castiel. Henry got the feeling that, had Castiel been pulling any sort of face, it would have been a smirk.

"Again," Dean said, rolling the arm Castiel had just flipped him over with. Again, Cas included his head without a word.

Dean, like both times previously, attacked first. He shot out an arm and Castiel blocked him. And again. And again. There was no way Dean could win against the stalwart soldier, and Henry wondered if Dean had already figured that out. Based on the low groan Dean let out as he tried to land a hand on Castiel's shoulder, the older Winchester did know he wasn't doing well in this fight.

Finally, with a feigned blow one way, Dean was able to land a strong hand on Castiel's shoulder, holding the former angel tight as he brought his knee up to him in the stomach. For a moment it looked like Dean might get him, but Castiel's leg came up in the next moment. He hooked his leg behind Dean's knee, throwing the man's balance, and rolled both of them over backwards on the floor, with Castiel finishing inexplicably on top of Dean.

Both men breathed hard and stayed right in each other's faces. Castiel had both hands on Dean's wrists, using his weight to hold him down.

"You ok over there, Dean?" Mary asked. Dean shifted and tried to get up but Castiel held him down.

"I am a soldier," Castiel growled. "I know how to fight, no matter the frailty you seem to perceive I have in this form." Henry was starting to feel wildly uncomfortable being in this room with the two of them. They were breathing out hot air in each other's faces and Castiel's voice sounded low and predatory. A glance over to Mary revealed she was feeling the same way. When they still didn't break apart, Henry cleared his throat loudly.

"Still in the room," he said, looking at the wall behind the men on the floor instead of directly at them.

"Cas, get off," Dean said, pushing against Castiel again.

"Admit that I can fight," Castiel said. Henry rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, Cas?" Dean asked. "What are you, twelve?"

"No, I am older than you can comprehend," Castiel said in mild confusion before regaining his angry tone. Mary huffed out a snort. Dean stared directly up at Castiel for another moment in displeasure and then sighed.

"Yes, Cas, you can fight," He finally said with a sarcastic smile. Cas nodded once.

"Thank you," he said. He quickly leaned down and landed a light kiss on Dean's lips before standing up and holding out a helpful hand to the hunter on the ground. Dean faced Henry and Mary with a majestically uncomfortable look on his face. Henry muzzled a smile at the expression. Dean shifted from foot to foot and avoided meeting anyone's eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but Mary stepped forward instead.

"How about I take on Cas?" she asked. Dean cleared his throat and looked at Cas.

"Of course, Mary," Cas nodded his head. Dean moved off the floor and stood next to Henry in the doorway.

"So, Dean—" Henry began.

"Never speak of it," Dean said. He didn't turn to look at his grandfather and Henry smiled as Mary and Cas took their positions in the center of the room.

The days spent waiting for everyone to be ready for the attack on Heaven included more training sessions, occasional movie nights, a few games of poker, and sporadic visits from Gabriel, but it still made everyone feel like they weren't doing anything at all. Every day Sam would say he felt fine and they would wait for an eventual visit from Gabriel so the archangel could tell him again that no, he wasn't better and that it would take a few more days.

Charlie left after the first week of waiting, claiming a life outside of the bunker.

"I have a kingdom to run, after all," she said with a grin. In all fairness, Henry knew Dean wouldn't have let Charlie come with them even if she had stayed. Still, Henry hated to see her go. She gave a warm hug to each person on her way out. Castiel's hug included a few whispered words that made him blush and henry wasn't sure he wanted to know what Charlie had said to him.

Mary's hug was full of huge smiles from both women and a kiss on Charlie's cheek. Kevin looked like he might not hug her at all but Charlie wrestled it out of him. She reminded him to have one of his games set aside so she could come back and "whoop his ass" soon. Sam's hug involved Charlie being lifted slightly off the ground by Sam's huge arms and Dean gave her a light kiss on the head when he pulled her in tight and squeezed her like it was the last time ever.

Henry shouldered Charlie's bag and walked up the stairs with her, helping her heave all of her things into the little green car she had driven here. Always a different car, Henry noticed, but they were all the same level of almost too brightly colored. That was just Charlie, he guessed.

"Well," Henry said, closing the car door. "It's always good to have you around, Charlie."

"No need to be formal about it, Gramps," Charlie responded with a wink. She closed the gap between them and pulled Henry into a warm hug. The people in the bunker were not overly physical people – except Dean and Cas – so Henry sometimes forgot how therapeutic a nice hug could be. He felt so secure and strong, just holding onto someone he cared about deeply. He waved when Charlie drove away until he couldn't see her car anymore and had a moment to hope, desperately, that this wouldn't be the last time he saw her. That this siege on Heaven wasn't as stupid as it sounded and that they might actually make it out. Maybe it didn't fall within the realm of "Winchester luck" but it was still something to be hoped for.

He took a single moment to have this thought before another blur of red hair appeared next to him in a flash and a vice-like hand gripped his arm tight enough that Henry cried out in pain.

"Hello, Henry-boy," a familiar voice said. "Did you miss me?"

A bit more with Henry, hooray. And the whole next chapter is a lot more with Henry and picking up a bit of badassery from Dean. Hope you are all ready.