The Stars Fall Like Feathers

Chapter 20: Homeward Bound

Pairings: Can be read as slight Destiel

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Not Mine, Supernatural belongs to Erik Kirpke

–

Homeward Bound

–

There's a beat of beautiful silence in the suffocating aftermath. As if not one of them dares to move in case everything turns out to be some fucked up shared dream, some Djinn gone nuts inside their heads.

Then there's a soft groan across from Dean, mingling in with heaving pants and coughs as the dust settles around them. "Cas?" The hunter calls tiredly, staggering to his feet. It's damn dark in this freezing cold basement now that the portals closed, but there's just about enough light that Dean catches Sam's eye as he stands, and a nod between them has Dean relax a little. His brother is fine. Castiel is right where Raphael left him, his coat and the tight dark blue V-neck are torn down his collar and over his left shoulder. Blood has dyed the fabrics almost black, giving a sharp contrast to the Grace still flooding from the wound, the brightest source of light still in the room. There's more of it running from the earlier cut across his temple, a stark red line bleeding down to his chin. His eyes are shut.

Kneeling carefully, Dean tries to ignore the shifting stones under his feet like loose shingle, and gently shakes the injured Seraph. The wings are spread across the floor haphazardly, but Dean can't see any blood or bone or Grace leaking out from anywhere other than his shoulder. He doesn't doubt they'll be bruised to hell, but that's so much better than broken. "Cas? Hey, C'mon, Castiel. Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey."

Scrunching his forehead, there are a few exhausted blinks, blue flashing blearily beneath them, before Castiel can keep his eyes open long enough to let them focus. "Dean." He says with such powerful relief the hunter feels vaguely dizzy with it.

There's a snort from behind them before Balthazar kneels down as well on the angel's other side, carefully sidestepping the spread black pinions. "We're here too, you know." He scolds light-heartedly.

The corner of Castiel's lip curls up into a tired smile and a blaze of affection for the idiot heats Dean's chest from the inside out. The Seraph wearily lifts his right hand, Dean grabs it and carefully helps him sit up, the injured arm cradled with a careful gentleness against his chest. "Went the full three rounds didn't you, Rocky?" The hunter jibes lightly.

The Seraph tilts his head and winces sharply for the effort. "Don't-Don't understand, that. Dean." He mumbles, screwing his eyes shut with the painful sensations.

Dean's ebbing concern flares just a bit again. "Yeah, yeah. Don't hurt yourself. Jesus Christ, Cas."

Gabriel achingly sits beside his winged sibling, carefully avoiding the enormous black limbs as they sorely pick themselves up and fold loosely, half trailing on the floor still. "Concussions aren't any fun, eh? Bro." He adds dryly, waving absently at their matching blood trails leaking from their hair lines. "Then again, you have a hole, too."

Sam rolls his eyes and returns with his duffel which he'd dropped on arrival, it takes some time to dig it out from under a pile of shattered filthy tiles. Digging for a moment, he pulls out the medical supplies he'd brought back in Kentucky and tosses a thick compression bandage at his older brother.

Dean takes an evaluating glance at Balthazar, taking in the way he's glancing over Castiel for more injuries than the humans can see and nudges him. "Can't you stopper that hole, Zulu?" He asks eagerly, a pressure bandage will hurt like a bitch to use, and if he can avoid giving the Seraph any more grief today he'll take it.

Rather than just chucking out no with his regular level of irritated scorn. Balthazar glares harder at the concussed Seraph opposite him. "Don't have the energy to stop it…" He answers after a few more moments, the older hunter barely restrains his need to hurry the posh angel along. "But I can help. May I, dear?" The angel tacks on, hands raised out to the stab wound through Castiel's shoulder. The wound is higher in his shoulder than the hook had been in Hugoton, piercing in just below his collar bone; Dean doesn't doubt how much it hurts, but he also doesn't think it's hit his lung this time.

Castiel goes to nod but catches himself first. Instead he merely closes his eyes and lowers his head a little. Submission in a more subtle action, if not in words. A hiss breaks from him when the other angel presses down, but after a few moments, the pain tones down from blinding to a harsh constant ache; it's still nasty, but at least it's certainly more manageable. The other three watch carefully. This whole thing has only taken about twenty minutes, but it feels like this day has been dragging on for the past twenty years. Now that it's finally all over, they're so tired that even facing standing up is a daunting prospect.

The glow of Balthazar's hands is somewhat muted compared to the flood that had been pouring from the angelic stab wound. But Castiel's brow loses some of the pained frown, and his breathing softens and settles a little back into a healthier rhythm. And Jesus, Dean didn't know how worried he'd been until this moment. A weight falls from his chest like an anvil.

It takes much longer than healing the Winchesters would have done. But even so, Balthazar can't heal most of it. "Sorry, Cassie. It's been a long day and your Grace can't handle me pulling at it anymore."

The Seraph gives him one of those rare, small smiles that seems to light up his eyes to what should be an illegal shade of blue. "Thank you, brother." Dean supposes that when you're expecting nothing, even limited help is a welcome gift.

The angel gently pats Castiel's other shoulder, a strangely affectionate gesture compared to what Dean's used to from the winged dicks he doesn't know that well. But, the hunter can't begrudge Castiel for it when the moron looks so damn pleased to just know that his brother is alive.

Standing stiffly, the blond angel shoots a look down at his other brother. "I'm sorry, Gabriel." He says simply, tone earnest and quiet.

The archangel bows his head tiredly. "Last one left, Balthy."

"What are you gonna do, Gabe?" Sam adds a moment later, sympathy in his eyes. God, Dean hopes he's not planning to tack Gabriel permanently to their little team. Sure, the guy's redeemed himself, hell Dean actually likes him. But he can't be stuck in a car with him eight hours a day. He'd kill himself. Just the few weeks together has given the hunter grey hairs.

Sighing, Gabriel rubs his aching skull. "If you thought upstairs was a mess before, just wait until they find out that Raphael's gone..." He pauses, breathing heavily for a moment, struggling to work around something burning in his chest like a wild fire. "I can't listen to the fighting anymore. I thought with the apocalypse going...Sure it'd be bad, but at least It'd get better. Eventually." He snorts. "Now look, no archangels, third of the host dead, no fledglings, no leaders..."

"Well," Dean shrugs loosely, "got one archangel left."

Those whiskey coloured eyes consider the hunter for a moment, trying to find a hidden slight. But Dean's as surprised as the rest of them to find that there's not one there. "It won't be easy, Deano."

Sam snorted humourlessly. "Would it be our lives if it wasn't, Gabe?"

The archangel laughs quietly, wincing again at the protest of his skull. "Words of wisdom from the Winchesters, freakin' Dad damn."

"I'll come with you." Balthazar declares suddenly, holding his hand down for the archangel to take, "But I have a condition."

The archangel raises his eyebrows at him and grins. "Shoot, Balto."

Balthazar's face scrunches up in distaste. "Two conditions," He amends dryly. "One: never call me that again. Two: Shore leave, Gaby. I'm not going back up if I'm never going to be let out of the box again."

Gabriel chortles. "Bro, if I thought I'd be stuck up there, I'd never go back either." With that, he took the proffered hand and stood. There's a strange pause, the archangel turning back to look down at his younger brother, still sitting in that Castiel shaped crater, looking drained and battered but strangely content. "Castiel." He starts fondly, tousling his little brother's hair, taking care to not hurt him. The squinted annoyed confusion he gets back makes him chuckle lightly. "Heaven needs its General back, Castiel."

Dean freezes to the spot. Utterly blind-sided

Shit. Shitshitshitshit.

He sends a betrayed scowl to the back of the archangel's head. But this was always going to happen. E.T is not the guy you make your best friend. Everyone knows that. E.T goes home one day. But it was supposed to be one day. Not this one, not right now. Then his heart sinks somewhere south of his knees, guilt flooding his entire soul. Castiel has been separated from his family by abandonment and war for three years. Now he gets to go home, gets his family back. Dean should be happy for him and it kills him with guilt that he's fucking not. He's freaking furious.

Sam is wide-eyed and tense, just as surprised as his brother. But he's also got a small smile on his face, because Castiel is being given a choice, even if Dean doesn't want to see it. And Sam has a feeling it's the only one that Castiel's ever got to make entirely for himself.

Castiel's clear blue eyes stare up in mild confusion. He'd have tilted his head if his brain wasn't currently swelling up with concussion. "Gabriel. I forfeit that post the moment that Zephon nearly carved the wings from my back and I didn't return."

Snorting, the archangel shakes his head. "You're a dumbass sometimes, you know that? Thought you were The Great Tactician?" The Seraph actually flushes a little at that. "Battle wounds don't mean dishonour, Bro. Quite the opposite actually. Dad, you of all people know that."

The angel sighs softly, unused to having the weight of his friends' eyes all over him like this for anything personal. Finally, he glances up at the two hunters, shifting his wings loosely across the floor under the pretence of trying to avoid stiffness. Sam gives him a reassuring smile, and Castiel is so unbelievably grateful in that moment that he'd managed to get the boy from Hell. The younger Winchester has far to a gentle heart to be anywhere but on Earth saving people.

Then he shifts his eyes to Dean. His face is blank, but there's a devastation in those green eyes that can't fool Castiel. Walls go up even as Castiel is turning, and the Seraph locks gazes with him to stop it happening.

It's then that the hunter notices the ebony feather, dusty and ruffled, resting beside his fingertips. Dean's eyes find Castiel's again and for a moment, the angel doesn't think Dean will take the hint. But them, ever so slowly, he shifts his fingertips an inch to the left. A flood of bright, confusing, foreign emotions bleed into the angels strained Grace. It's hard to focus through so many when so battered. But some are stronger than ever. The brightest one of all, is a gleaming sense of being left behind.

Castiel swallows tightly, and pushes back. Flooding the hunter with reassurance and affection and warmth.

Dean sags where he sits.

"I'm needed down here, Gabriel." He answers softly.

Gabriel immediately starts chuckling, the only thing containing his amusement being the own ache of his head. "Easy there, Blackbird. You are Heaven's General, whether you want it or not. Angels up top have been chattering up a storm about you for the last five minutes alone. A lot of people thought you were dead...again." Conflict blooms over Castiel's face, torn between two families. Gabriel takes pity. "Relax, Cassie. I was joking, Earth is supposed to be watched over. But we're gonna be busy on our own front for a while. We're gonna need someone down here keeping an eye on things."

"You gonna be hanging around, Cas?" Dean asks, tone dry and lazy. His eyes are eager and simultaneously wary.

Castiel sends the Winchesters a small, tentative smile. "If you'll agree to it."

Sam grins lightly. "Honorary member, remember?" Before Hell, this would have been difficult for Sam to deal with. It was supposed to be Sam and Dean against the world. There wasn't any room for a rogue Seraph and its misplaced loyalties. But this angel single handedly revived Dean, turned against Heaven, died to try and stop the last seal breaking, protected them, died again for them. Pulled Sam out of Hell. Castiel is Dean's best friend, sending him away because Sam can't man up and handle change would tear at his brother. There's no doubt he'd choose Sam. But there's no way that Sam will place him in that situation. Besides. Castiel is Sam's friend too.

Dean chortles. "Team Free Will, kicking ass and taking names."

Balthazar rolls his eyes. "Gabriel that was actually nauseatingly painful to watch." He groans lowly. Gabriel nods in vague agreement.

"Now, kiddies. Cassie, you know as well as I do that that wall won't hold Raphael in forever. He's going to break out, and I expect demons will take advantage of the lack of aerial supervision for a while. Might drop you a mission or two along the way." The archangel warns playfully, "Besides, can't have a Seraph getting bored on Earth."

Clapping the Winchesters on the back, the archangel gives them both a wide grin. "Well, it's been fun boys. Driving across the States, holiday in Europe, actually being alive. Not being tortured in Hell or Heaven..." His voice is wobbling with dramatic flair.

Dean rolls his eyes and shoves him off of his shoulder. "All right, all right. You're welcome you pain in the ass. Get the hell off me." The Winchester's both snicker when the archangel falters a little at the lack of balance.

"Anyway, see ya later boys." Gabriel adds with a small flamboyant wave.

The older Winchester catches a strange look on his face as he does it. There's a weird fondness in those amber eyes that wasn't there before and Dean realises that Gabriel's actually a little disappointed to be leaving. "Check in now and then, you damn moron." Dean snaps out suddenly, scowling at the way Balthazar grins like a snake spotting an elderly mouse. "If you die again, it's really gonna fuck up our hunting schedule."

A wry grin spreads over the archangel's face, and he nods at the trio. "That was beautiful, Deano."

Scowling, Dean brandishes a piece of concrete menacingly. "Bite me, asshole."

"You know that makes me one of your little team, right?" Gabriel butts in with, smirking triumphantly as Dean's frown of confusion blooms into disgust.

"In your filthy freakin' dreams, you sugar loving creep!" But it's too late, the other two angels are gone.

A smooth silence permeates the air for a minute or two. Sam's still sniggering silently to himself and Dean can't tell if he's nauseous or not at the thought of Gabriel being around some more.

Castiel sighs softly, breaking the silence. "I'm afraid Gabriel is right, Dean. Uzziel too."

The shade of red that Dean's face turns, Sam later swears, was a beautiful thing to witness.

~Fin~

A/N: Finally finished! I know I was a bit rubbish with the timings in the last few chapters but I'm pretty sure none of you would really be interested in why, just know that I'm sorry for it and I'm super grateful to all of you who read and reviewed and kept me going! Love all of you! :)

Also: I am four chapters into the sequel to this. And I might try and post a chapter up a week starting very soon. :)