They found the Best Buy after a lot of screaming at each other.

It was an ordinary Best Buy. The navy-blue building looked plain in the dark, and the glass walls and windows were covered up with what looked like elegant maroon curtains. In the haze of the events that had recently transpired, Castiel hadn't considered the fact that there were advertisements for the so-called game show. Successful advertisement, judging by the number of cars filling up the parking lot.

Aside from the cars, there were tents crowding the space. Most surprisingly, a few people were actually having tailgate parties. The entire scene looked like an ordinary Black Friday/Pre-Game All-American tradition combined, which was the strangest thing of all.

Since there was no available parking in the area, they were forced to park on the next street over and walk the rest of the way.

Halfway there, Castiel gripped Dean's shoulder to stop him.

"You can't come with me," Castiel said.

"Why not?" And then it dawned on him. "Crap. I'm a wanted man."

"Yeah, small detail."

Dean groaned, looking longingly at the Best Buy parking lot that smelled like a perfect summer barbecue. "I was really craving a burger."

Castiel smiled fondly, squeezing Dean's shoulder before dropping his hand. "Here's the deal. You go wait in the car while I go get some info on the game show. With all these people here, I'm guessing there's some sort of auditioning process."

"Aw, hell. Lucifer, I swear, next time I see you I'm kicking your ass."

"Easy there, babe. Our fearless leader has eyes and ears everywhere, and I happen to know he has a sore spot for insults and threats."

Dean snorted. "What's he gonna do to me? I'm already his bitch."

Castiel sighed, crossing his arms. He really wished he had some duct tape handy because Dean sure as hell did not have an off button on him. "Dean, get in the car, and I'll bring you a burger."

At that, Dean broke into a full smile that reached his eyes. "I knew I married you for a reason."

"That reason was supposed to be love."

Dean clapped Castiel's shoulder before turning back to the car. "Yeah, that too!"

Castiel rolled his eyes, making his way to the festive parking lot. The air was filled with smoke, but the pleasant kind. Beef patties, hot dogs, and a few pork chops were being grilled in a few spots, and Castiel walked past them, nodding at the friendly-looking people. A few of them offered him a hot dog and a beer, and Castiel saw his opening. He leaned on a blue pickup while he ate his hot dog in a few mouthfuls, realizing how hungry he was. After eating nothing but junk food throughout the day, this was the most sophisticated meal he'd had in days.

As he sipped his beer, he joined in the conversation the couple beside him were having.

"When did you say the doors will open?" Castiel asked.

The tall woman in a messy pant suit sipped her soda. "Doors open at ten on the dot. Every day, or so we've heard. We've only been here two days, but that's been the case so far. Some of these people have been here since the beginning. Seven days ago."

"What's the choosing process?"

The woman sighed, like it was the end of the world and she was tired. "Well, an angel shows up, scans the area of any trespassing enemy angels, and then he picks three people he likes. Last time he made us have wrestling contests for his own entertainment, but he picked someone else at random. And I know one time they had a dance off, but again, the angel just went with whoever he wanted. There's no way of telling who they'll pick. We're all just sort of hoping we're the lucky ones."

A week into this mess, Castiel was not surprised to hear that the angels acted on impulse alone. They did as they pleased with humans, treating them as nothing more than puppets for their games. If they killed without any clear order, why should they show order anywhere else?

"Wait, you said enemy angels?"

"Yeah," the woman said, shrugging. "Something like that. From what I've heard, the angel running this show is an archangel, Gabriel. He's doing this against another archangel's orders. Michael. I'm assuming he's the one responsible for killing us off. Rumor has it Michael's been trying to sneak angels in to put an end to the game show, or Gabriel himself, but so far, no one has made it through. If any of Michael's angels make it through, then it's game over for all of us."

Castiel hummed in thought. Everything made perfect sense, especially after what Lucifer himself had shared before. Still, Castiel wondered why Gabriel had gone so far as to betray his own brother. Could this Gabriel be a somewhat decent angel? If he truly wanted to help humanity by turning them into angels, couldn't he just do it without the game show? What was the point of that extra step? More importantly, why couldn't this Gabriel just kill of Michael himself? Was he too cowardly to face his brother?

"Want another beer?" a scruffy-looking man asked, holding out a beer.

Castiel accepted it and thanked him, and then he asked for a burger. When he got back to the car, Dean was lying on the front seat, drumming his hands to Zeppelin. Black Dog again. Castiel smiled, a faint blush on his cheeks. He had to admit that Dean's music was not bad at all. But it was no fun telling him that.

"I hope you're hungry," Castiel said.

Dean sat up immediately, lowering down the music. Castiel scooted in through the passenger side. Dean beamed at the burger, like a child opening up a present. "Ah, sweet. This smells so good."

As Dean ate, Castiel told him the information he'd gathered. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough. At least now they knew when to make an appearance again. For now, there was nothing else they could do but wait.

"That was a damned good burger, Cas." Dean licked his lips and chugged the rest of his beer, letting out a loud burp at the end.

Castiel looked at him. "I'm glad the romance is still alive."

Dean smiled and winked at him, swiping his greasy fingers over Castiel's cheek. "Love your peach fuzz."

Castiel chuckled. "I suggest we find a place to sleep, unless you want to spend the night in the car at an abandoned parking lot." They were outside of an old warehouse building, completely desolate.

"It's probably best if we wait it out here. Just in case there's more traffic in the morning and we get jammed."

Castiel sighed. As little as the idea appealed to him, he agreed.

Half an hour later, Dean had his head on Castiel's lap, drumming his hands to another Zeppelin song. Custard Pie. Castiel really like that one too. He didn't realize he was smiling until Dean pointed it out.

"I wasn't smiling because of the song," Castiel said. "Go to sleep."

Dean poked his side, though Castiel wasn't very ticklish. "Cas, you do realize that tonight is the last night I'll spend as a human, don't you? I mean, do you really just want me to go to sleep?"

Shifting on the seat, Castiel glanced at Dean's face on his lap. Castiel cupped Dean's cheek, swiping his thumb over his cheekbones full of freckles. Even though it was dark, Castiel knew where each of them were. Then he traced Dean's still swollen lip.

"You're hurt, Dean," Castiel muttered.

"I'm alright."

"Are you? I mean, are you okay with all of this?" Castiel hesitated. "You made this deal selflessly, but you didn't have much time to think it through. I wouldn't blame you for wanting to back out of it now."

Dean swallowed, and Castiel traced the movement with his thumb. "It doesn't matter how I feel about all of this. It's what I need to do, Cas. For you, for Sam, Jess, Charlie, Bobby, Ellen, Jo. You're all counting on me. If this is what will help you, then this is what I'll do. The rest doesn't matter to me."

"Well, it matters to me. You matter to me. And I need to know how you really feel about this. About becoming someone else. We don't really know much about what will change when you're one of them."

Dean sighed, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I don't know, Cas. Every time I think about becoming a feathery ass angel, I feel sick. What does that tell you?"

"It's okay for you not to want this," Castiel said, running his fingers through Dean's hair. It was thicker than usual. He needed a haircut—and a shower.

"I have to want this," Dean whispered, opening his eyes and gluing them to Castiel. "I have to."

Castiel shook his head, bending down to press his lips on Dean's forehead. Then he kissed his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, his lips.

Dean stared at him when he pulled away, and then he tugged him back down by the shoulders. Their lips pressed again in a chaste kiss that was slow and sweet like it hadn't been in a while. Dean wound his hands around Castiel's neck, pulling him even closer as he licked his lips and pressed his tongue inside. There was sudden desperation in the kiss, and longing that Castiel recognized went both ways.

Before he knew it, Dean was straddling his lap, carding his fingers through Castiel's hair, yanking it softly. When Dean took Castiel's lips between his teeth, the sound that Castiel let out was almost inhuman. All that Castiel knew at the moment was his need to touch, taste, and feel the warmth of the man he loved more than anything.

"Dean," he breathed, circling his hands around Dean's waist, and sneaking them under his shirt until he touched his warm skin. Castiel dug his fingertips into Dean's lower back, swallowing the groan that Dean emitted.

"Missed you," Dean said, angling their mouths again, and any reply Castiel could have given disappeared. Dean's tongue brushed the top of his mouth, and Castiel arched his back against the seat. "Fuck," Dean whispered against his lips, breaking off the kiss only to press open-mouthed kisses to Castiel's neck.

Castiel threw his head back while Dean's mouth ran up and down his neck, slowing down when he started to thrust. Castiel hadn't realized that Dean was mirroring his movements. They were both dry-humping each other in the front seat of a car. Castiel burst into laughter.

Dean pulled away slightly, brow furrowed. "Think I missed the punch line."

Castiel laughed again, kissing the frown off Dean's face. "We're acting like horny teenagers."

"So?"

Castiel moved his hands that were on Dean's back further south, until they dug into his waistband, and he grabbed a fistful of ass. "I love you, Dean, so I'd like to fuck you somewhere nicer."

Dean sighed, pressing his forehead against Castiel's, his breathing slowing down. "We've fucked in my car more than once."

"Hmm, I remember." Castiel grinned. "But circumstances were different. We weren't married then. Besides, you complained about your back for days on end."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, I don't know about you, but I've got a serious case of blue balls."

Castiel held onto Dean tighter as he tried to move away. "I didn't say we couldn't do other things."

Dean beamed. "Backseat?"

"That would be preferable."

Without missing a beat, Dean scurried to the backseat, knocking off his boots as he went. Castiel laughed again, removing his own shoes as he followed behind.

Dean sprawled on the seat, wiggling out of his jeans enthusiastically. Grinning, Castiel crawled over his body, slotting their lips together. Dean sighed into him, his hands pulling on Castiel's shirt until he slipped out of it. Castiel licked Dean's lips until his lips parted and he moved his tongue inside. Every little moan he got from Dean urged him on, but Castiel went slow, slow, pressing his lips down Dean's jaw, loving the stubble there. Castiel left a trail of open-mouthed kisses all the way to Dean's neck, where he nipped on his soft skin, making Dean arch underneath him.

"Cas," Dean gasped, tangling his fingers in Castiel's hair and tilting his head so Castiel had a better angle.

Castiel sucked on the spot he'd bitten, and then slid Dean's shirt off. Hundreds of freckles on his chest were uncovered, beautifully displayed, and Castiel spread his hands over them. Dean bit on his lip as Castiel flicked one of his nipples before taking it in his mouth.

"Ah, fuck," Dean cried out, his hands tightening in Castiel's hair.

Castiel moved down Dean's torso, careful with his bruised ribs, his lips barely touching him. When Castiel dug his fingertips in the waistband of Dean's boxer briefs, Dean swallowed audibly. Smiling, Castiel lowered the last piece of clothing Dean wore, his throbbing cock leaking. Castiel licked his lips before taking the tip to his mouth and sucking hard enough to get a few more moans out of Dean.

Dean continued holding onto Castiel's hair as Castiel swallowed more of him, cupping his balls. A sharp gasp, followed by a shudder. Dean was lost in the pleasure, and Castiel couldn't look away. They'd done this countless times before, but Castiel would never grow tired of witnessing Dean's reactions, the way he lost control at Castiel's hands.

"Mmm," Castiel hummed, pulling back slightly, enough that he could fist his hand around Dean's cock while he continued sucking it. Dean thrust a few times, but it wasn't rough. They'd learned each other's pace over the years. That's how Castiel knew Dean was close. Fingers tightened in his hair, and Dean shuddered again, uttering incoherent whispers.

Dean yelled with his release, and Castiel swallowed down every last drip. Castiel pulled away and wiped his lips with the back of his hand before Dean tugged him back down, gripping his shoulders. They kissed chastely, as though they had all the time in the world. Teeth clashed, and tongues moved slowly, in the sweet gentle way of their first few kisses. There was nervousness in the simple action of kissing, and it sparked a fire in Castiel's belly that had faded with time.

Before he knew it, Dean's hand was working to remove Castiel's jeans. Hands fumbled, and they laughed, but then things got serious again once Castiel's jeans and boxers were off. Dean gripped Castiel's cock and stroked him in earnest. "Fuck, Dean," Castiel whispered against his lips, and Dean kissed him again.

"You're beautiful," Dean whispered against his lips. "So beautiful."

"Dean." Castiel's voice was rough when he spoke.

That made Dean smirk.

Dean continued working Castiel to his climax, and when Castiel came all over Dean's stomach, his smirk turned into a full-on grin.

Castiel hovered on top of Dean, careful not to lay on the mess he'd left behind, but Dean didn't seem to care, pulling him back in his arms. "Ugh, we don't have anything to clean ourselves up, Dean."

Dean looked up at him, face only a few inches apart. "I don't care." He pressed their lips together, and they didn't break apart for a long while. It was as though all either of them cared about was the closeness and nothing else. The closeness that had been gone for miserable months.

"We fogged up the windows," Castiel whispered.

At that, Dean laughed, a carefree sound that filled the small space around them. "Yeah, good job, baby."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Blame me, why don't you?"

Dean laughed softly and pecked Castiel on the lips. "Last-night-on-earth-as-human sex is good."

Castiel frowned. "Don't phrase it like that. You won't be less than human. You'll be more."

Dean snorted. "Yeah right. I'll be a winged killing machine. That's not better than being human."

If Castiel could, he would take Dean's place. He wanted that more than anything. To take that weight off of Dean's shoulders. To carry Dean's cross so Dean didn't have to. Castiel knew that Dean had wanted that as well when he'd learned about Castiel's past with his father.

There were many things Castiel wished he could change, but there was only so much supernatural power to go around.

Could angels heal people from memories? From injuries? If angels could cause so much death and destruction, couldn't they also heal and repair?

"Hand me my shirt, would ya?" Dean asked, leaning up on his elbows.

Castiel found Dean's shirt wrinkled on the car floor and handed it over, his mind far away. He hardly noticed when Dean wiped him clean with his shirt, though he didn't fail to comment on how gross it was.

"It's the end of the world, baby," Dean said.

"You're lucky I love you," Castiel said, lowering back on the seat, fitting himself behind Dean, and throwing an arm around his waist. Dean placed his hand over Castiel's hand on his stomach and laced their fingers together. Castiel pressed his lips to the back of Dean's neck to keep his thoughts from drifting again.

After a while, Dean broke the silence. "Cas, maybe this is a dumb question, but…will you still love me when I'm an angel?"

Castiel blinked. "There is nothing in the world that could change the way I feel about you, Dean."

Dean shifted until he was on his back, staring up at Castiel with clear green eyes. "That's good, 'cause I don't intend to lose you again. You hear me? You're stuck with me till we both die of old age, at the same time, right after we have sex for the last time."

Castiel burst into laughter, hiding his face in Dean's neck. "You've really put some thought into how we're going to die. Should I be concerned?"

"Hey, I don't make the rules. That's just how it's gonna happen. Already saw it."

Castiel laughed harder. "You saw the future, Dean?"

Smiling, Dean nodded firmly. "Oh, yeah. We only have two kids, but they're twins, and they're a handful. You're a soccer dad, but I'm not. I'm the cool dad who takes them camping and to concerts on school nights. Then we have four grandkids, who we spoil because we can. We always buy them ice cream before dinner, and we let them watch scary movies they're not supposed to watch. It's a sweet life."

Of all the things Castiel had imagined, nothing could top this. Dean wanted a long, simple, ordinary life with him. And right now, in the middle of this nonsensical madness, Castiel wanted that more than anything. He wanted that life with Dean.

And he would do whatever it took to get it.

The next morning, Dean found himself in a poor disguise made up of sunglasses, a bulky jacket, and an old blue beanie that belonged to Castiel. The getup was to prevent anyone from recognizing his face plastered everywhere, though he wasn't sure how effective it was. He had a pretty nice face, one that was hard to forget.

"You have an average face, Dean," Castiel said, when Dean pointed out his concern for the fourth time.

"Don't you dare say my face is average when I happen to know how much you enjoy licking whip cream—and other sweet things—off of it."

Castiel rolled his eyes, but there was a slight flush to his cheeks. "Sure, Dean, whatever you say."

When they made it to the area near the front entrance of the Best Buy, they found where all the noisy excitement was coming from. The large crowd that filled all the way to the street had created a circle, where a few people were performing what looked like magic tricks, though they weren't all that impressive. Mostly beginner stuff.

They dug through the crowds until they made it to the front row of the clearing. Dean was not afraid of elbowing people out of the way, but Castiel was nicer about it, offering apologies as he went.

"What's going on here?" Dean asked. The question had been directed to Castiel, but the man beside him answered.

"They're practicing until the angel shows." The man was young and attractive, blondish, with a pensive frown. "Adam," he said, offering his hand.

Dean shook his hand. He almost gave him his real name, but quickly came up with an alternative instead. "Zeppelin. And this is…" Castiel was not by his side anymore. In a crowd so big, Dean feared he would never locate his husband again, but he found him seconds later, approaching a woman across the circle. "Sorry, gotta go." Dean trailed after Castiel, not wanting to lose him.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Clarence, in all his grace and glory." The dark-haired woman was short, dressed in a tracksuit. She looked ready for a fight, or to run a marathon if it came to it. Her crooked smile was warm and genuine when she spotted Castiel.

"Meg," he said, a little breathless, hands digging into the pockets on his jacket. "I haven't—you look—what the hell are you doing here?"

"You mean, how am I still alive?" Meg said with a chuckle. "Well, handsome, I have my ways. I'm a survivalist. But don't you worry your pretty little head about me. I'm here to win today."

Castiel gaped at her, blinking, as though he couldn't believe his eyes. When Dean cleared his throat, Castiel finally noticed he'd followed him, and he looked flustered. "Dean."

"Who's this?" Dean asked, looking from Castiel to Meg, trying to find a connection. There was no resemblance, so they couldn't be relatives. Besides, Castiel had never spoken about anyone in his life named Meg.

"Meg, this is Dean," Castiel said, swallowing. "Dean, Meg."

Dean furrowed his brow. Castiel was definitely feeling guilty about something, but Dean couldn't figure out what it was. "Hi, Meg. I'm sorry to sound like an asshole, but Cas never mentioned you before. Are you old friends?"

"No, Dean," Castiel said, before Meg had the chance to answer. "Meg is…she's my ex-wife."

Meg shrugged helplessly when Dean looked at her for answers.

"Come again?" Dean asked Castiel. "How is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"

"Look, Dean, now's not really the time," Castiel said, looking around them, self-consciously. They had a few pairs of eyes on them. By now, the crowd had decided that their erupting little spat was far more interesting than the amateur magicians.

"You must be the current spouse," Meg said to Dean. "Look, sweetums, what happened between me and Castiel is ancient history. It was barely history."

"You two were married," Dean said, and the words sounded strange coming out of his mouth.

"I was twenty-two," Castiel said, running his hands over his face, like he couldn't believe they were actually having this conversation in front of an enormous audience. "I was fresh out of college. Meg was my best friend, and I felt comfortable around her. Meanwhile, I had my father pressuring me to love a woman, so I did what I had to do to get him off my back. I married Meg, and our marriage lasted a week before I got it annulled because…because the marriage was never consummated." Castiel looked mortified by the entire thing, and Dean suddenly understood why he had kept it a secret all this time.

"Well, shit." Dean placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know I should have come clean about this sooner, Dean, but I just—"

"Hey, Cas, it's alright. I get why you did it. Seriously. We're okay."

"My, my, Clarence, I think this one's a keeper," Meg said. "Pretty face, too."

Dean couldn't help the smirk on his face. "You hear that, Cas? Pretty face."

"Are you serious, you petty little humans?"

The voice came from above. All heads titled up, including Dean's. An angel flew above them, gray wings flapping calmly. This angel looked more human than most, with a pair of jeans and an orange hoodie. He was young too, resembling a teenager.

"I wanted a show, but this is all I get?"

After a tense moment, Dean realized he was looking over at them.

"I spent a lot of time watching human television shows," the angel continued. "There's always drama between couples. Especially when there's a love triangle. And now that there's a real-life love triangle in front of me, you decide not to fight with each other? What kind of game is this? I don't believe you. I think you can do much better than that."

Dean looked from the angel, to Castiel, then Meg, and back to Castiel. "I think he wants us to fight."

"Like, physically?" Castiel wondered.

"Maybe words will do," Meg said. "Let's start with that." She cleared her throat. "Yeah, that's right, Dean-o, I was married to your husband first. He loved me first. And even though he claims he's gay, I don't buy it. Not for one second. I know that, deep down, my sweet, darling Clarence only truly loves me." Meg touched a hand to her heart, and a tear ran down her cheek.

Not bad.

Dean looked at Castiel, mouthed sorry, and then rolled up his jacket sleeves. "Oh yeah? Well, I lied before, Meg. Castiel did mention you many times during our marriage. He always talked about you, but I chose to ignore it. And now, now it's too late. I kept him away from you long enough. He doesn't love you anymore. He loves me. He had no other choice. So you need to turn around and go back where you came from. I can't believe you followed us all the way here."

And then, the unexpected happened. Meg slapped Dean across the face, in a slap that was loud and just dramatic enough. And it stung. A lot.

"Aw, fuck." Dean touched his cheek, wincing.

Castiel fussed over him, removing his hand to see how bad it was. "It's pretty red," he said.

"No shit," Dean muttered.

"That's what you get for stealing my man," Meg said, crossing her arms and tapping her foot for effect. She was really in character.

"Okay, okay, you three can stop that now," the angel said. "The boss wants me to get back with the contestants, so I guess you're it. Hang on tight."

With the snap of his fingers, the angel made all three of them disappear, and reappear a few moments later—during which Dean lost all consciousness, and probably also ten years of his life.

They were in a comfortable-looking room. It had two purple couches, a coffee table with a bowl full of candy, a fridge, a pool table, and a big bright mirror over a counter full of makeup. It looked like a backstage room.

Dean touched his limbs to make sure he was still whole, and then did the same to Castiel. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

Dean nodded, looking over to Meg. She was already digging into the fridge.

"You guys want anything?"

"Sprite," Castiel said.

"Nothing for me," Dean said.

Castiel held Dean's face in his hands. "Hey."

Dean looked at him, trying to make sense of everything that had happened in such a short amount of time.

"We made it. We're here. We're going to be on the show. We're just one step away."

"I can do this," Dean said, more to himself than to Castiel.

"We can do this."

Meg joined them, handing Castiel his Sprite, and an ice pack for Dean. "Put this on your cheek. I hate to ruin such a pretty face."

Dean frowned, but the ice did help a little. "You didn't have to slap me."

"Quit complaining. We're here."

"Yeah, about that," Dean said, wincing as the ice hit a sore spot. "We really need to win this thing. For the greater good of humanity."

Meg scoffed. "Are you asking me to let you win? Because there's no way I'm doing that."

"Meg, this is our one chance to end this destruction," Castiel said, leaving his Sprite behind on the table as he joined Meg on the couch. "We drove all this way so we could be here, so Dean could become an angel and destroy the archangel responsible for all of this."

"You think that's going to end this?" Meg snorted. "Listen, Clarence, I love you, kid, I do. But you're way too naïve if you believe you can stop this madness. We're all fucked. The only ones who aren't are the angels, hence the need to win this thing."

"We have word from Lucifer that this can be done," Dean said. "But it has to be done this way. I need to win."

Meg flicked her eyes from Dean to Castiel, and back again. Then she took a deep breath. "Yeah, sorry, boys, but that's not happening. But hey, you can still try to beat me. I've seen every episode, and I know what it takes to win. You've seen the show, haven't you?"

Dean sighed. "We didn't think to turn on a TV."

"Shame."

Castiel frowned, looking angry and disappointed at the same time. "I hope you know we're going to obliterate you out there."

"Is that a challenge?"

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "It's a statement of fact."

Dean had never been more turned on.

"What do we have here? I was promised a heated love triangle. Ready to put on a show?"

There was no doubt that the angel in front of them was not of the same rank as the others they had encountered. This one had golden wings. Actual golden fucking wings. As gold as his hair. He wore an elegant suit, with a tie covered in yellow smiley faces. The archangel pulled a lollipop out of his mouth, and smiled.

"So, who wants some wings?"