"Cas?" Dean called, walking into Bobby's living room balancing a slice of pie on her protruding belly with one hand and holding a glass of lemonade in the other. She glanced around the room and frowned when she discovered it was empty.
"I'm sorry, Dean," he sighed, his voice materializing before the angel himself.
"Sorry for what?" Her heartbeat quickened, somehow predicting his answer before her mind could.
"I have to leave."
She nearly dropped her glass, hands shaking even as her mind raced to think of any other meaning his words could have. His blue eyes locked on hers as he grabbed the plate and glass before she could make a mess and set them on Bobby's desk.
"For how long?" she finally choked out.
"My siblings need me." If he noticed her scowl at his deflection he ignored it. "The war between them is getting out of hand and they need a leader. No one would be more capable than myself."
She knew he was right, knew they needed him to lead the charge against Raphael, but the knowledge did nothing to stop the burning behind her eyes as she whispered, "How long?"
"The war could last for centuries."
"Centuries," Dean repeated tonelessly. "Cas, I'm human, I don't have centuries to wait for you to return."
"I thought you understood…" The angel stared her down emotionlessly, returned to the Angel of the Lord she had met while the apocalypse still loomed, empty of any humanity he had gained while living amongst them. "I will not be returning. I am not leaving this place… I am leaving you."
Dean's breath caught in her throat and she pushed back at the panic rising in her chest. "What about our baby? You said that when a nephilim is created there has to be a bond between the angel and the human for it to… you told me…"
Cas offered her nothing more than a blank gaze, "What nephilim?"
Terror coursing through her, Dean lowered her head and pressed her hands against her flat stomach, fingers clenching at the fabric of her shirt.
"We have no child, Dean."
Dean woke suddenly, panic still clawing its way out of her chest. She searched the room for her angel, finding him sleeping soundly next to her with his arms curled around her hips. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she slowly lowered her eyes to her torso, noting the soft curve where their child was still growing.
Cas muttered something in his sleep and his arms tightened around her, chasing away some of the terror that still plagued her. She took another deep breath and laid back down, curling up against his chest and burying her face in his shoulder as if she could hide there from her fears.
One week after Gabriel had appeared in Bobby's kitchen everyone was feeling on edge. Sam had been sulking around the house for reasons unexplained, Cas spent most of the time glancing around as if he expected Raphael to pop up in the living room any time, and Dean had started suffering from nightmares which she refused to tell anyone about.
After seven days of the tension, Bobby finally snapped.
"The hell is wrong with you idjits?" he demanded, staring down each of them in turn, "Y'all are actin' like it's the damn apocalypse again!"
"We're not that bad," Dean grumbled, attempting to rest her chin on her knees and giving up when it proved too difficult to reach.
"I'm fine," Sam argued, smile not quite reaching his eyes.
"I don't understand why your concern extends to me," Cas frowned, "Have I been acting strangely?"
"Any more than normal, he means," Dean added helpfully.
"I've been walking on eggshells for a goddamn week trying to keep the place from falling apart," Bobby growled. "You need to get over whatever that sister of yours said to you and trust that we can handle whatever is coming for us like we always do," he directed at the angel, "And you need to tell your angel about those nightmares and how you haven't been sleeping so he can help you," he glared at Dean.
"I'm not…" she protested.
"Is that why you have seemed so exhausted lately?" Cas questioned, interrupting her.
Dean opened and closed her mouth several times before she scowled, "Yeah… I guess."
Sam grinned for a moment before catching Bobby's eye and shrinking under his stare.
"And you… you need to get your head out of your ass and apologize," Bobby ordered.
"Wh… what?" Sam sputtered, "Why should I… I mean who would I…?"
"You know what I mean."
"I don't…"
"Then figure it out. I'll be downstairs," he grumbled, leaving the three to their thoughts.
Sam sat at the kitchen table absently poking at a salad with his fork. He watched as Dean walked in the room, opened the door to the refrigerator, and stared at its contents with a tortured expression.
"How do you live like this, Sammy?" she asked miserably.
"Salad is good for you," he shrugged, pushing a cherry tomato around his plate rather than eating it.
"So is fruit. Pie has fruit; I don't understand why you people keep complaining."
He let out a small chuckle and tried to ignore Dean's pleased expression at the sound. She grabbed an apple from the crisper and flopped down in the seat across from him, taking a too large bite.
"What?" he asked warily, avoiding her curious stare.
"Wha's up with you lately?" she asked through another mouthful of apple, "Seem kinda down."
"I told Bobby, I'm fine," he frowned, stabbing the tomato a little too forcefully and waving it around as he spoke, "There's nothing for you to be concerned about. Just worry about you, Cas, and little…" He paused, his frown deepening as he pointed at her midsection with his fork, "What are you naming her anyway?"
"Fine my ass," Dean argued, ignoring his attempt at a distraction. "You've been walking around here moping like someone stole your puppy. I know I'm not the greatest at all the touchy-feely sharing crap, but you know I'm here for you if you wanna talk, right?"
"Yeah, I know, Dean," he nodded, offering her a half-hearted smile. "I'm just trying to figure out what I'm feeling right now and… are you even listening?"
Dean ripped her gaze from the kitchen counter and forced a grin. "Yeah, yeah, I just… does something feel… off to you?"
He glanced at the counter and back to his sister, listening for anything out of place. "No… Dean, is something wrong?"
"No, no, its fine. I just… thought I felt something… weird. It's nothing."
Watching her for a moment longer, he shrugged and returned to his salad.
"Anyway, have you seen Cas?" she asked suddenly, drawing his attention again.
"Not for a while now. Why, he missing?"
"What? No. I just… it's nothing," she smiled weakly. "I'm gonna go spend some time with my baby, she's probably feeling neglected." She stood quickly and tossed the core or her apple into the garbage can.
"Yes Dean," he rolled his eyes, "I'm sure your car is feeling lost without you."
The angel stood before him, hands held out at her sides in a beseeching gesture. "What say you, brother?"
He shook his head slowly, apologetically, "I cannot."
"You would forsake us then?" she demanded, "Leave us to die in a battle of your making?"
"I never asked you to start this war, sister," Cas disagreed. "I support your decision to seek free will, but I shall not act as scapegoat for your failures. A consequence of free will is accepting the outcome, even if it is not that which you desired."
"So you will stand by and watch your brothers and sisters fall?"
"I have caused the deaths of more of my siblings than I care to remember for the sake of humanity and I shall act again should they be threatened."
"By humanity, you mean Dean Winchester…"
"Dean and I do share a more profound bond…"
"Do not belittle me, brother," Rachel scowled, "I know of your attraction to the human. I would warn you of the consequences that follow that particular brand of free will. You know as well as I how Heaven would react to the creation of a nephilim."
"I am aware," he nodded, his expression carefully neutral.
"If you wish to pursue this human, I would think the best place to start would be winning the war that will determine your freedom to do so, would it not?"
"Perhaps," Cas allowed.
"And if we lose this war," she warned, "Where do you think Raphael will turn his attention?"
"To anyone whom he feels has been disloyal or insubordinate to avoid future rebellion."
"Basically you, Castiel. And do you think he will be satisfied by your head alone? He will seek out your precious human and smite her where she stands."
"She is the Michael Sword…"
"That doesn't matter anymore!" Rachel argued. "Michael is in the cage with Lucifer and unless you have some brilliant idea of how someone could open the door again that is where he will stay. Being the sword was the only thing truly protecting Dean Winchester from his wrath. Without that…"
"Being the sword never protected her," Cas growled. "Michael would have taken her body and burned out her mind, discarding her soul in Heaven when he saw fit. The only things standing between Dean and certain death have always been the strength of her will and her family."
"And do you count yourself among them?" she asked, voice softer, curious. "Do you deem yourself a Winchester?"
Cas squared his shoulders, puffing up his wings as the light of his grace shone through his eyes, the whole effect meant for intimidation. "If they would have me," he spoke slowly, deliberately, "I would proudly carry the name Winchester."
"And if you care so deeply for these humans, do you not wish to protect them with everything you have? If you would abandon the Host and call them family should you not protect them with every bit of determination you once extended to those brothers you deserted?"
"I shall always guard the Winchesters with my life," he agreed.
"Then join us, Castiel," Rachel pleaded, "Help us to overthrow Raphael and allow every angel to live practicing free will as you have. Lend us your strength and we shall watch over Dean Winchester. No harm shall come to her so long as you stand with us."
The light of his grace faded and Cas lowered his wings, regarding his sister carefully as though considering. She took the opportunity.
"Castiel, will you join the war? Will you lead us into battle for free will?"
Cas closed his eyes for a moment and breathed out, "I will…"