The rest of the day was spent with the two brothers playing together and Gabriel growing ever closer to Sam. The next few days were spent establishing a routine. Now that there were two boys in the house, they had to shift things around a bit. Once that was done, Sam decided to go hunting again. Dean was still home bound because of the brain damage. After about a month of healing treatments from Castiel, Dean was finally able to go hunting again, and it made him breathe a sigh of relief. He climbed into his baby and heard the purr of her engine. And just like that, it was like the last month and a half never happened. He was back on the road with Sammy, and that was where he felt he belonged, although he already missed the cabin and couldn't wait to come back.
Things in the car were suspiciously quiet, and Dean found it irritating. He looked over at Sam, who was staring out the window with a contemplative expression on his face. When he couldn't stand the silence anymore, he looked over at his brother.
"What is it?" He asked.
Sam looked over at his brother. "Nothing." He said. Dean shot him a look.
"You really expect me to believe that?" Sam sighed.
"No, but I don't want to talk about it here. I want to wait until we get to the motel."
Dean found this a satisfactory answer and kept driving.
Their latest case was in a wooded area of Nashville, Tennessee. After investigating the scene of the crime, conducting interviews, and grabbing a bite of dinner, they finally headed back to the motel room. Sam came in first, throwing his bag over the side of the bed and sitting down. Dean followed and shut the door behind him. He looked over at Sam.
"So, what's on your mind, Sammy?" He asked, pulling Sam from his thoughts. He debated lying, knowing that would be easier, but he knew Dean would know, and that would be worse. He sighed in defeat.
"I was thinking about Father's Day."
Dean's eyes widened. After John died, they had never spoken of the holiday ever again.
"What about it?" He asked after a few seconds of surprised silence.
"How are we going to celebrate it this year?"
"Wha-" Dean was about to ask what he meant when he remembered. He had an actual Daddy now, and so did Sam. Dean wondered why he hadn't thought of this before. "That's a good question."
"We have to do something special." Said Sam, easily slipping into his little boy headspace. "But what?..."
"I don't know." Dean said, honestly. How could he possibly express his deep love and appreciation for everything his Daddy did for him? What words were there to explain all that? He was a Winchester- words and emotions weren't exactly their forte. Wait... Forte... That was it! Dean's eyes lit up and he ran to the desk and pad of paper and started writing a song. What better gift to give his Daddy than the gift of music? Castiel would love it, he was sure.
That left Sam as the only one who couldn't figure out his gift. Gabriel was an archangel. Pretty much anything he wanted he could have in the blink of an eye. He needed to give him something that no one else could. Something exclusively from him. He spent a few minutes pondering what he could do. The only sound in the room was Dean's furious scribbling on the pad of paper. Then it hit him. He was going to draw the best picture Gabriel had ever seen. But he couldn't do it here. He needed his art supplies. He frowned, disappointed, but started planning what he'd draw while he changed into his pajamas. By the time he got out Dean had finished his song and stuffed the paper into his jacket pocket. Then, exhausted, he got undressed and went to bed, exhausted.
Hundreds of miles away in the cabin, Castiel was sitting on the couch, reading a book he'd been trying to get through for the past three months. Thus far, he'd never made it past the first paragraph. Now, with the boys gone, it was the perfect time to catch up on his reading.
Just when he was about to get to the second paragraph, the front door flew open and hurried footsteps came through the foyer.
Gabriel ran into the room. When he saw his brother buried in a book, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Cassie, thank father you're okay." Castiel closed his book and looked up.
"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" He asked curiously. He'd never seen Gabriel so nervous before. It was a sight to behold to see the archangel so flustered.
"We have a problem." Said Gabriel, riddled with anxiety. "I really thought I'd hid it well enough, but they got to it somehow. I locked that thing in a gold safe, Cassie! It was in a box with a lock that was warded from Angels stored with hex bags, tucked in a safe, hidden behind a painting, behind a plexiglass wall that's at least five inches thick, in a damn museum with laser security grids for father's sake! There's no way it could have been penetrated, but they did! They did and now-" Gabriel was talking so fast it was making Castiel dizzy. He could barely make out what his brother was saying. Regretfully, he slapped his brother smartly across the face. He was getting just a little too hysterical for his liking. Gabriel looked at him like he'd grown a third head.
"Calm down, brother." He said quietly. Gabriel took a deep breath in and out. Castiel smiled a little. Then he spoke very slowly. "Good." He praised. His eyes grew more serious. "Now then, calmly tell me what is going on?" Gabriel took another breath, and then sighed dejectedly.
"It's Azrael. His grace- it's gone."