For the past twenty minutes, the group had managed to make their way through the tunnels without incident. There had been no further encounters with the ant people and Sam was hoping they would catch a break for once. He was really starting to worry about his brother- who was pale, uncoordinated, and quite possibly going into shock. There was no way the man was going to be able to fight. No sane person would even be walking around in his condition. Dean obviously had a severe concussion, along with the newly broken bone and God only knows what else. Sam just prayed his brother could manage to stay on his feet until they got out of the would be an awfully long hike back if he had to carry him, especially since he had taken a few good hits himself.

In any event, it was pointless to try to get his big brother to admit he needed to slow down, especially since he knew Dean wanted to play the tough guy for his crush. So, they lagged behind under the pretense of covering the rear, leaving the Slayer to take the lead, with Dawn safely tucked in the middle.

Less than five minutes later, Sam decided that his prayers were going to go unanswered (yet again). In true Winchester fashion, the day was about to go from bad to much worse. Just as he'd feared, his brother was now staggering badly and on the verge of passing out. Face first into the rocks and dirt. He hovered close and prepared to catch Dean before he busted another hole in his head.

Just then, suddenly and without warning, Castiel materialized in front of the group. His appearance caused Dawn to let out an ear-splitting scream of surprise to which Buffy responded by punching the angel squarely in the face.

"Goddammit, Cass!" Dean barked, having been shocked back into awareness.

"Dean, I wish you would not blaspheme," Castiel replied with typical stoicism, showing no reaction to the punch he'd just received.

"Well, I wish you'd learn to announce yourself. So, it looks like we both need to pray a little harder."

"This is Cas?" The Slayer asked, obviously surprised. "You're right, that appearing out of nowhere thing is a really annoying habit."

"Yeah, it really is," Dean agreed.

The angel had a more rumpled appearance than usual. His hair was sticking up badly on one side of his head, his trench coat was wrinkled, and his tie was crooked. He stood for a moment silently studying the girl who had just given him a punch to the jaw, an impressively hard punch. For a human, anyway. He then turned his gaze to Dawn, a slightly puzzled expression briefly crossing his features. The Slayer immediately noticed his perusal and moved to step protectively in front of her sister.

"You are Buffy Summers, the original Slayer," Castiel stated, returning his gaze to her.

"I am," Buffy agreed slowly, trying to figure out who or what this man was, and how the heck he knew her. "Do I know you?"

"We have met, but you probably do not remember. It was only briefly and I did not inhabit this vessel."

"Okaaay, confused now."

"Don't sweat it," Dean told Buffy as he managed to force himself to walk toward Cas without stumbling like a drunken fool. "He's a big fan of the cryptic. Aren't you Cas?" Dean asked, turning to address the angel. "What the hell is going on with you, man? You're lookin' a little rough."

"It's Raphael."

"Like the Ninja Turtle?" Buffy questioned from behind Dean.

Castiel continued with what he was saying, ignoring the Slayer. She apparently shared Dean's habit of making flippant comments at inappropriate times. "There have been some recent defections from his side."

"Well, that's good news for you isn't it?" Dean asked.

"Yes, but now Raphael is angry and it is causing some escalation on the battlefield," the angel replied, sounding weary. "I apologize for not coming sooner. It is very difficult for me to get away at the moment."

"It's cool. We know you've got a lot going on. I'm just glad to see you're still hanging in there," Dean said sincerely before adding, "Things were a little crazy down here for a minute or two, but we've got it all covered now."

Sam would probably throttle his brother if he didn't already resemble the walking dead. Did he actually just say: 'We've got it all covered'? For the love of God! Dean was the most self-destructive, reckless dumbass he'd ever met. He was just going to let Cas fly away without even mentioning that he was probably bleeding into his brain. This was a new level of idiocy, even for Dean. Well, Sam wasn't about to just stand there and let him get away with it this time.

"Cas!" Sam said urgently, trying to be sure he grabbed the angel's attention before he disappeared again. "Before you go, can you fix Dean up? He's hurt pretty bad."

Castiel gazed at Dean intensely for a moment, causing the older Winchester to shuffle his feat in embarrassment. He hated being the subject of one of Cas's psycho-stares. The man still had a lot to learn about basic social skills.

"I am sorry Dean," Castiel said after a brief pause. "I was so distracted that I didn't realize the extent of your injuries."

"It's not a big deal," Dean shrugged, trying to keep up his facade of indifference. "I've had worse. But," he admitted reluctantly, "it might help out with the war effort down here."

"Of course, it is the least I can do," Castiel responded before placing a hand on Dean's shoulder.

A faint glow appeared where the angel had placed his hand and Dean's coloring immediately began to improve. The dark circles under his eyes faded away and the blood matted in his hair disappeared. Even the bullet graze on his neck was completely gone. The transformation made it all the more obvious that Dean had been in far worse shape than he cared to admit.

The angel removed his hand from the newly healed Dean and addressed the group somberly, "You will all need to take care," he warned. "You are facing the Nephilim and they are a formidable opponent. I only wish that I could do more to assist you," he added with genuine regret, "but I must return to heaven."

"Are you talking about the ant people?" Dean asked. "What did you call 'em?"

"The Nephilim. They are descendants of the fallen ones. Sons of God who mated with human women."

"Those things are part angel?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"They are an abomination."

"Hold on a second," the hunter said, looking like he'd just arrived at a very unpleasant conclusion. "You're sayin' that if you came down here and got busy with a woman… your kids would look like these freaks?"

"It is possible. They would likely have an unusual appearance."

"Unusual? Dude! You better wrap it, that's all I'm gonna say," Dean warned.

"Wrap what?" Castiel asked curiously.

"Never mind, Cas," Sam said, entering the conversation. "We can talk about that later. Much, much later. In fact…" Sam paused when he spotted one of the creatures coming toward the group holding the Slayer's scythe in front of him.

"That's mine!" Buffy snapped angrily spotting the newcomers as well.

She raised the blade Sam had loaned her and started to go after them, but Castiel stepped calmly in front of her and grabbed the scythe as the creature tried to bring it down on him. He casually handed the weapon back to a very stunned Slayer before placing his hands on either side of the monster's face and easily snapping its neck.

"There are still four more," Cas warned, turning back to face the group and apparently oblivious to both of the girl's astonished expressions.

"Remind me not to piss you off, Cas," Dean said, sounding rather impressed.

"I am sure that would prove helpful," Castiel replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Unfortunately, I am unable to stay longer," he continued. "I can tell you that if you go north for a quarter of a mile you will find the rest, along with the children they have stolen."

"We're good, Cas," Dean assured him. "I know you need to get back to it. Thanks for the heads up and for the... you know. Just watch your ass up there, okay."

Almost as soon as Dean spoke the last word the angel disappeared with the faint sound of flapping wings.

Dean then turned toward Buffy and beamed a gloating smile as he removed the improvised sling. "Guess I won't be needing this anymore."

Buffy didn't reply. She just stood there tightly gripping her scythe, her brow knitted in confusion.

"Was that an angel angel?" she asked tentatively. "Like an all flappy wings and heavenly hosts sort of angel?"

"Yeah," Sam answered. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"That would be an understatement," Dawn managed to squeak out. She appeared a little shell-shocked.

"I sucker punched him in the face!" Buffy exclaimed mournfully. "They're probably saving me an extra-special place in hell for that. Somewhere between Dick Cheney and that woman with all the kids."

"Which one?" Dean asked. "Octomom, the crazy religious lady, or the bitchy one with the freaky hair?"

"How do you even know all of that?" Sam asked in surprise.

"Dude, give me a break," Dean pled in his defense. "There's not always a whole lot to choose from on roach motel cable."

"The one with the hair," Buffy answered with a frown, after she decided that the brothers weren't going to start bickering again. "They'll probably make me get that haircut too… for punishment."

"Oh come on, you're not a monster," Dean said with a laugh. "There's no need to get your panties in a twist over it, anyway," he assured her as he fiddled with his cast, trying to pry open the crack. "The guy needs to learn to quit scaring the hell out of people. And I can promise you, first time he appears when I'm on the crapper, I'm taking more than one shot at him myself."

"Let me see that," Buffy said, pushing Dean's hand aside and making a face at his crudeness. She wiggled the tips of her fingers into the crack in the cast and popped it open easily before dropping it to the ground and nonchalantly dusting off her hands.

"Remind me not to piss you off, either," Dean breathed in awe.

"Cas was probably right," she replied with a smirk. "It would be a waste of time."

Dean just shrugged and happily flexed his right arm. "You want this thing back?" he asked, holding out the scarf.

"Put it in your bag, we never know when you might decide to break another bone."

"You're just jealous that I have connections in high places," Dean teased her. However, he did stuff the scarf in his bag, which is brother had been carrying for him. The scarf might just come in handy again, plus it was a bizarre souvenir of his time with the Slayer.

"What did you do with my pistol?" Dean asked Sam. "You didn't leave it outside somewhere did you?" He added accusingly.

"No, it's in my bag. But I don't see why you need it. You can't use it against these things, anyway."

"I know, but I want it. I feel naked without it," Dean admitted sheepishly.

Dawn snorted a laugh and pointed to her sister. "Sounds like Buffy. She'd sleep with her scythe if she could."

"I tried," her sister admitted, "but it's not very snuggable. I should get a special fuzzy case made for it."

"Fine, Dean," Sam said, shaking his head at the thought of both seemingly indestructible older siblings needing a security blanket. He retrieved his brother's gun and handed it over with a stern warning, "You better not fire it until we're out of this cave."

"You're the one who shot me, Sam. I think you need to get that straight."

"Whatever, Dean."

Dean was just elated to have his pistol back. He shined it a little with his shirt and checked the clip and sight before tucking it away in his waistband. "Now that's more like it," he breathed with satisfaction.

"Sorry to interrupt your heartwarming reunion," Buffy said a bit sarcastically, she'd never understand what men saw in guns. "But, did I just hear your angel friend talking about a war going on in heaven? That can't be a good thing. Just please tell me it's not the end of the world… again."

"Might be," Sam replied soberly, "if the wrong side wins, anyway."

"But its June," Buffy whined. "Nothing big ever happens during the summer. I think there's a law."

The girl did kind of have a point, Dean decided. For the most part (unless you counted the summer he spent in hell) things tended to get pretty slow after an inexplicable peak in May, and usually stayed that way until late summer, early fall. "Maybe it's a false alarm," he said encouragingly. "Then again, maybe the prophet's too hammered to know what month it is," he added dryly.

Sam flared his nostrils and shook his head angrily. "I told him we had guns."

"Well, it better be a false alarm. I'm supposed to be on vacation," Buffy pouted, deciding she had no interest in the brother's conversation about prophets right now. The angel situation was enough to deal with for one day.

"Then let's have some fun," Dean said enthusiastically. "I don't know about the rest of you ladies, but I'm suddenly itching to kick a little ass."

"That would be more in keeping with the true spirit of summer vacation," Buffy agreed, her mood brightening. "Now, if somebody will just tell me which way North is we can commence with the ass kickings."

"That way," the brothers said simultaneously, pointing up the trail.

"Thanks," Buffy said brightly. "You know, the four of us actually make a pretty good team. We could start our own reality show, get rich and famous. Leave all this wacky monster-slaying behind us. If that loud, orange girl Snookie can do it, then I know we've got a shot. We even have all of the major ingredients. Sam and Dawn can be the booky research types, I'll be the beautiful star… and you," Buffy said linking her arm through Dean's, "can be the plucky, comic relief."

"You're crazy," Dean scoffed, raising an eyebrow in pleased surprise at Buffy's friendly gesture. "Sam's obviously the pretty one and I'm clearly the ruggedly handsome hero."

"Okay, then a fantasy show it is," Buffy teased. "I can live with that, as long as we can have a talking monkey."

"We can have whatever you want, sweetheart," Dean assured her.

"Good," Buffy chirped, still walking arm-in-arm with Dean. "We'll add it to the list then, right after monster killing, children saving, and tacos. On second thought, maybe we should squeeze in a shower before the tacos."

"I could go for that," Dean agreed, giving Buffy the once over.

"You know what I mean," she said, shoving Dean playfully with her elbow and turning a little pink. "We're all a little on the grungy side. Well, except for Dawn. She's somehow managed to stay squeaky clean."

"What can I say?" Dawn replied from behind the couple, where she and Sam had been childishly pointing and grinning at their older siblings. "I obviously take personal hygiene a little more seriously than the rest of you. I do think Dean's on to something though," Dawn added with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "The hotel did have an awful lot of signs about conserving water. So maybe you two should take your shower together. Ya know, for the environment."

Buffy turned and gave her sister a stunned look. "I can't believe you," she scolded. "I don't think he needs any encouragement."

"He really doesn't," Sam agreed, trying to suppress a laugh. He was going to lose it. This was just too much fun. He hadn't seen his brother act like this around a girl in ages, maybe never. He was starting to think that Dean might have more than sex on his mind this time. And while he was happy about that, he couldn't help finding it all a little bit hilarious.

"Well, what about you Sammy?" Dean began, determined to turn the tables on his brother. "I'm sure Dawn wouldn't mind conserving with you. She seems like the environmentally friendly type."

Sam was trying to think of something good to throw back at his brother when Dawn spoke up, the girl could obviously give as good as she got.

"Oh, I am friendly Dean," Dawn said suggestively, "but I can't hold a candle to my sister. She's the greenest person I know. She'd do absolutely anything to save the planet. She's my hero."

"Dawn!" Buffy snapped. "Where did I go wrong with you?"

"What do mean?" Dawn asked with feigned innocence. "You are concerned with the environment, aren't you?"

"I'm beginning to get very concerned with the level of pollution in that brain of yours. You're like a twelve-year-old boy."

"Dean," Sam said coughing behind his hand, earning him a look of exasperated disgust from his big brother.

Dean stopped and turned around to face the younger siblings, his eyes flashing daggers at his Sam. "We should be getting close, so maybe it's time to get our minds on the job," he suggested. "Don't ya think?"

Sam threw up his hands in surrender, but couldn't manage to put on a straight face. "Okay, truce," he said. "I'm all business."

"Good," Dean said sternly, before adding: "If you girls are good and let the grown-ups do their work today, we'll take you to Chuckie Cheese when this is all over."

"Only if I get to pick the toppings," Dawn added smugly, determined to get in the last word.