Chapter Thirty-Five: The Trouble With Angels

"Where is he?" Michael rounded on Castiel, shouting.

"I don't know, brother," the trench coat-wearing angel answered, face completely blank.

"Don't lie to me! I know you had something to do with it Castiel, you two were close!" Michael snarled, flexing his hands as though he wanted to rip his brother's Grace out right then and there.

As thick as thieves, Castiel thought.

"Why would I dare to go defy you, Michael, when I know the price of disobedience?" Castiel asked the archangel.

"Do not be smart with me, Castiel; I know you helped Abdiel escape!" Michael snapped, blue eyes blazing.

"Believe what you wish, brother," Castiel replied as though he was not at all threatened by the archangel.

Michael moved forward before he was standing toe to toe with the trench coat-wearing angel, "If I find out you had anything to do with this, you will go the same way as Belial."

Castiel knew not to take the archangel's threat lightly; if Michael tore out his Grace he would be powerless to help Sam and Dean.

The lower-ranking angel took a breath, knowing that he would have to play the simpering minion a while longer to keep Michael unawares as to whose team he was actually playing on.

"I would not go against you wishes, brother, I have learned my lesson. Perhaps you should ask one of our fallen brethren you've allowed to walk through Saint Peter's gate if they know anything about Abdiel's escape," Castiel spoke without breathing, hating himself for the words he said. He was now pinning the blame on an innocent sibling- well, innocent of releasing Abdiel, at least- so that he would remain free to play the game.

Michael's blue eyes grew shrewd, "Excellent point, Castiel."

Castiel couldn't help but slump a little in relief.

"I knew I made a good choice in becoming partners with you," Michael smiled arrogantly and disappeared.

Is he really that obtuse or is he just playing me? Castiel wondered for a moment.

SPN

Sarah was giddy with excitement over our new house. She could not wait to move. As soon as December hit, she started packing all rarely-used items into cardboard boxes.

I tried to match my wife's enthusiasm but I could not stop thinking about why we were moving away in the first place.

I could not stop thinking about how easy it had been for Belial to spy on me and my family, unnoticed for God knew how long, and that frightened me more than anything. More than the idea of a resurrected Lucifer, I think, because while the Devil's second chance would come sometime in the far future (according to Cas), the angels still had their sights set on Dean and I now.

So while Sarah practically skipped around the house, packing away odds and ends, I stalked around, my mood dark and growing darker the closer the date of the move loomed.

Faith and Aaron seemed to pick up on our opposing attitudes and we'd oftentimes find our daughter stuffing her toys into open boxes within her reach. Aaron, still far too young to understand what was going on, cried a lot and began clingy. Sarah thought our son was still getting over his cold but I was sure he was on my side when it came to moving away, no matter how necessary it was.

Our house was a real mess; it looked like a tornado picked up a box factory and deposited all its contents in our first-floor. Besides the boxes taking up space, a Christmas tree had claimed one corner, its fresh-smelling branches covered in ornaments and tinsel, its peak topped with the customary angel- something that made me smile every time I saw her blond hair and golden halo, white wings and dress- because Faith insisted we put up the tree long before Santa Claus was due to visit.

I was often found wandering around the house, mug of coffee in hand, trailing my fingers over the back of the couch, flipping through a book, sitting on the last set of stairs to the basement. Sarah never said anything; she'd just watch me for a moment or two before leaving me to my thoughts.

I wasn't really sure what I was doing… I guess I just had grown attached to the house, the first one I'd spent the longest time in aside from Bobby's place in Sioux Falls and it felt strange to be leaving- at one time I'd thought that this would be the house Faith and Aaron would grow up in, that Sarah and I would grow old in- even if it might seem odd to you, you have to remember that I rarely had a place to call my own.

The impending move to Sheridan, Indiana wasn't the only thing putting a damper on my mood:

The cold weather was fucking up my leg- I was popping pain killers like they were Skittles and was forced to walk with that damn cane again- and I was just praying that the whole winter wouldn't leave me limping around like some old geezer.

My shoulder was finally beginning to heal- thank God- but it was taking its sweet time and ached like a son of a bitch most days.

It felt like my family was pussy-footing around me. It wasn't like I was acting like some surly asshole or anything but I'll admit my temper was on a short fuse and I had absolutely no tolerance for stress.

I had finally told everyone at the library that I was moving- you should have seen their faces, it felt like someone had told them Christmas was canceled- and nominated Valerie to take over my position. I knew she was young, but her age would benefit her, she'd likely stay as Head Librarian for a long time. Valerie had been very gracious, acting like she didn't deserve such a promotion but everyone said that she was the perfect choice. I felt confident in my decision and I could tell that Valerie was secretly very proud.

Sarah had told almost the entire population of Petite that we were moving and we were constantly having unexpected guests come over with coffee cakes or flowers or offers to help us pack or haul everything to Indiana when the time came. I had never realized how many friends we had made in the small farming community- I never realized just how many people considered me their friend.

W

I was pursuing the books that had been left out on the bookshelf, looking for something to occupy my time until Sarah returned with Aaron and Faith. She had taken the kids to Helena for some early Christmas shopping and I had the house to myself.

I hummed tunelessly for a moment until I picked up a well-thumbed copy of The Gunslinger by Stephen King and flipped through it, deciding I could re-read it and sat down on the couch.

I was a few chapters in when I heard footsteps coming from the front hallway. Wary, I set the book down and looked over the back of the couch.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when Crowley entered the living room. He looked just as he had the last time I had seen him, maybe a little smugger, but pretty much the same dapper, devious demon that he always was.

I stood up quickly, too quickly it seemed since I had to grab the back of the couch for support, cursing my left leg as I did so and snarled at the intruder.

"Get the fuck out of my house!"

Crowley spread his hands, "Is that anyway to speak to your favourite demon, Moose?"

I raised a skeptical eyebrow, "What the fuck are you doing here, Crowley? Don't you have some poor sap's soul to steal with a crossroads deal somewhere?"

Crowley straightened his black tie and smirked, "Oh, I forgot, you didn't get the newsletter."

I blinked, "What the hell are you talking about?"

The demon ignored me and went into the kitchen. I followed and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, as Crowley opened the cupboard above the stove we used as a liquor cabinet and pulled out a half-full bottle of Maker's Mark.

"Make yourself at home," I muttered and moved to sit down. My leg ached annoyingly and I reached down to rub at my knee.

I watched with annoyance as Crowley twisted the cap off the bottle and took a deep swig of the amber liquid.

"Are you going to tell me why you're here or are you just going to stand there and drink my entire store of booze?" I asked tersely. I knew that Crowley could be an asshole if he wanted but he didn't appear to be interested in doing any damage… so far.

Crowley smirked and set the bottle of bourbon down on the kitchen table.

"I actually came here to thank you, Moose," he said and I scowled.

"For what?" I snapped. My leg was really starting to ache and I wondered if I should take a couple of Tylenol.

"You made my position permanent!" Crowley celebrated this announcement with another swig of Maker's Mark.

I tried to feign indifference but I have to admit that I was curious to know what the demon was going on about.

"And that would be?" I stood, gripping the table for support, cursing that I was showing weakness in front of the smug bastard.

Crowley sighed, looking annoyed, "You know, I'd have thought that pompous older brother of yours would have told you when we had that nice chat-"

I interrupted, "What the fuck are you talking about? When did you and Dean ever have a 'nice chat'?"

The demon's eyes flashed with humour, "Oh, that was years ago… almost four years ago now."

"What?" I gritted my teeth together in anger.

Crowley rolled his eyes, "Look, Moose, I'm not in the mood to give you a play-by-play of every conversation your brother and I had."

"Let's just say I pushed Dean in the right direction, gave him a few helpful pointers, that's all," Crowley spread his arms and then took another swig of bourbon.

I clamped my mouth shut, deciding I didn't want to hear whatever Crowley was talking about from him. If and when the time came, I'd ask my brother about it; at least he wouldn't beat around the bush like the boozer I was standing in front of.

I ran a hand over my face, feeling stubble on my chin and deciding that if and when Crowley left, I'd grab a quick shave.

"I like you, always have," Crowley began speaking again, "Okay, well not you as a person but you do have your uses, you're stubborn and self-righteous and so easily angered-"

I slammed a fist down on the table, interrupting the demon's listing of my less desirable qualities.

"Did you have anything to do with the lack of demon activity?" I ask, changing the subject.

Crowley lifts an eyebrow, "Of course, I had to protect my investment."

I cringed at the term, "And now? It's been years… ever since I was brought Topside again no demon has come within a hundred mile radius of Dean and I… except for that gas station outside of Natchez."

The last handful of words was spoken as a realization dawned on me.

"Were those your demons protecting us from Jonah?" I asked shrewdly, waiting for the demon's answer.

Crowley nodded with a knowing smile, "That, well, that was sort of a quid pro quo thing, you know- you make Lucifer into a shish-kabob for me and I prevent you and your brother from being turned into Swiss cheese by a bunch of gun-happy yahoos."

I raised both eyebrows in surprise. I didn't think Crowley did anything for anybody unless he got something out of it himself. Of course, I have been wrong before.

The demon lifted a hand and pointed a stubby finger at my left leg, "About that, well, let's just say you're a hunter and as such, you've been shot before. Think of it this way- you'll have something to tell the grandkids about one day!"

I should have known Crowley wasn't keeping his demons at bay without some sort of price. Even if it meant a screwed up leg, it was better than losing a soul.

I narrowed my eyes, "Screw you, Crowley."

"Sorry, Moose but I don't swing that way," the demon smiled and I bit my cheek to keep from punching his teeth out.

"Is that all you came to say? Give me a pat on the back and say 'thanks for taking care of the Devil for me; he was really cramping my style, oh, and by the way- we're even now'?"

I could have sworn that the demon actually looked hurt.

"No, I popped by for a visit because I enjoy your company," Crowley said sarcastically.

"I know you're not here to shoot the shit with me so what the fuck do you want?" I hissed, "I don't have time to play your games."

"Okay," Crowley seemed to deflate- if that was at all possible for the pompous asshole- and spoke truthfully, "I'm here because I want to know what it is your angels are up to."

The demon raised an eyebrow and looked at me expectantly.

I frowned and Crowley spoke again, "C'mon, don't tell me they've kept you in the dark!"

"Why do you care what Cas and Abdiel do?" I asked suspiciously.

"Because, believe it or not, everything that happens up there," The demon pointed his middle finger toward the ceiling, "Affects what happens down there", index finger jabbed at the floor.

"I'm surprised, Crowley, you always seemed to be 'in the know' about things," I couldn't help but smirk.

The demon narrowed his eyes at me and his lips thinned to a grim line.

"What? You don't like it when it someone else's turn to be smart?" I asked and limped more than walked over to the coffee maker, pouring grounds into the machine and started it percolating.

I had my back to the demon- something that would normally get me killed- but it was Crowley and I mean, if he was here to kill me, he could have done so numerous times already.

"As far as I know, Heaven's gone loco," I said as I listened to the hiss and drip, drip, drip of the coffee maker.

"That's obvious, Boyo," Crowley snapped and moved so he was standing beside me. I heard the bottle of bourbon clunk down heavily on the counter.

I sighed, realizing the demon wasn't going to be satisfied until I told him something.

"Michael's lost it," I said slowly, "He's pretty much proclaimed himself King and has Castiel running around as errand boy."

The demon snorted at the last part but his expression was serious.

I rubbed at my face with both hands, "All because they were trying to kick Raphael out of Heaven."

"Had to pick the lesser of two evils, eh?" Crowley asked and I wasn't so sure if that was true.

I turned around and leaned my back against the edge of the counter; Crowley mimicked the movement and folded his arms over his barrel chest.

"Is that it?" The demon asked, peering at me from the corner of his eye.

"I shouldn't be telling you anything, really," I said, "For all I know it could come back and bite me in the ass."

Crowley smirked, "What's the harm in gossiping with an old chum?"

I glowered at the demon, "Why did you come to me and not Dean, seeing as you're the one who said you two were so friendly before."

"Because big brother would probably try and exorcise me as soon as look at me," Crowley said.

I shrugged, "That sounds like Dean."

Crowley frowned, "So sharing time is over then?"

"I don't see why I should be telling you anything," I concluded, "You're only looking out for yourself anyway."

The demon's expression turned insulted, "Who's the one that's told all the other demons not to touch a hair on you or your brother's heads for the past three years?"

"Ah but you weren't doing so out of kindness," I countered, "You were just protecting you investment."

Crowley hesitated then grumbled, "You're smarter than you look, Moose. You got me there."

I folded my arms across my chest and waited.

"I'm sure an intelligent demon like you can find out what's happening Upstairs without me having to tell you," I said in a patronizing tone.

Crowley made a rude gesture, "You're lucky I like you."

I just smiled and wiggled my fingers in a 'goodbye' gesture.

I grabbed the bottle of Maker's Mark from the counter and held it out to the demon, "You keep it, I don't want it."

Crowley took the bottle and actually cracked a smile, tipping an imaginary hat, "You're a gent."

The demon disappeared before I blinked and I slid down until I was sitting on the kitchen floor.

I guessed I was supremely lucky that Crowley wasn't sending ever demon known to man after me and my brother but I was worried because I just didn't understand his angle.

Sure, I had killed Lucifer but that had been three, almost four years ago now and yet Crowley was still sending word out that Dean and I were off-limits.

I ran a hand through my hair. Everything was so messed up, what with Heaven having a meltdown and Crowley popping in sniffing around for information, I wished things could be simple again.

I wished everything could be black and white, good and evil, right and wrong but it seemed that more and more, shades of gray were coming into focus and I had no idea how I was supposed to maneuver around them.

After about ten minutes I picked myself up and grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured myself a coffee.

I went back into the living room but felt no desire to continue reading.

I sat down on the recliner and grabbed the cordless phone from the coffee table.

I dialed my brother's number and waited for him to pick up.

"Hey, Dean, you'll never guess who just came over for a visit," I said after my brother greeted me, my tone belying the fact that I was unimpressed with Crowley.

"The Dalai Lama?" Dean joked from the other end.

SPN

Castiel stood nervously in the boardroom with a handful of Michael loyalists, waiting on the archangel to appear.

Laylah brushed her vessel's long blonde hair back and turned her green eyes on the trench coat-wearing angel.

"Why do you look like you expect me to say something about the reason for our being here?" Castiel asked his sister.

"Michael has chosen you as his immediate subordinate," Gzrel broke in with an irritated not to his voice.

Castiel did not reply right away.

"That does not mean I am privy to the inner workings of his mind, brother," Castiel bristled.

"Perhaps he has found Abdiel," Bath Kol mused.

I dearly hope not, Castiel thought.

The archangel appeared in the room looking quite smug with three other angels following along in his wake.

Puriel and Zaapiel held a female angel between them. A terrible feeling of déjà vu washed over Castiel.

The captive was a fallen angel who'd professed her desire to mend her ways and be allowed back into Heaven following the rift in Hell that had allowed many fallen seraphim to escape.

"Furfur, here has confessed to freeing Abdiel from prison," Michael announced and Castiel lowered his gaze so the archangel would not see the expression in his eyes.

Castiel highly doubted that the angel had confessed of her own free will. Furfur's head was bowed, her face obscured by dark hair but Castiel could see her legs tremble with the effort of holding her up.

"You are all here so that you may witness the punishment for traitors," Michael's blue eyes glittered with malice.

Castiel bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from speaking. Furfur was innocent and yet she was the one being punished.

The friendly angel wondered if Michael knew he'd helped Abdiel escape and was punishing innocent angels so that Castiel would speak up and condemn himself.

The archangel rolled up his shirtsleeve and stepped toward Furfur.

From the corner of his eye, Castiel saw the assembled angels watching with a mixture of disgust and bloodlust on their faces.

Castiel closed his eyes right before Michael's hand entered the captive angel's chest- he could not watch such a crime happen again- but he cringed when she screamed.

Opening his eyes, Castiel saw the archangel holding up the bright white glowing orb that was Furfur's Grace.

Looking around, Castiel saw his companions expressions had turned to ones of trepidation.

"There is no room in Heaven for those without the utmost fealty," Michael announced and Castiel watched as the archangel slipped Furfur's Grace into his pocket, as he had Belial's.

Turning to Puriel and Zaapiel, Michael sneered, "Take her away."

Castiel gulped but forced his expression to betray none of his feelings.

The other assembled angels took a collective step away from Michael and he chuckled.

Bath Kol cleared her throat, "Brother, do you not think that was an extreme punishment-"

Michael's expression stopped the angel from continuing, "I could have thrown her back into Hell, Bath Kol, would that have been a more fitting punishment?"

The angel lowered her gaze, "No, Michael, you were merciful."

Castiel felt sick to his stomach at the turn this conversation was taking.

Michael looked smugly at his lesser-ranking brothers and sisters.

"Furfur is still allowed to be free," He said, "She is now just as fragile as any human."

"Prison or Hell would be worse," Michael continued, "She would be trapped, separated from our Father's light. I did Furfur a kindness; wouldn't you say so, Castiel?"

Castiel jumped a little, surprised that Michael was addressing him directly, "Yes, brother. You are kind," he deadpanned.

SPN

I was so excited for Sam to move to Indiana- like a kid waiting for Christmas, you might say- and I couldn't help but tell Emma the good news. I think she was about as excited as I was about Sam's move- she really wanted to meet this mysterious brother of mine.

I circled the moving date in red pen on the 'classic car' calendar I'd pinned to the wall in the kitchen beside the phone.

I regularly called my brother- practically every day, much to his annoyance- asking how things were going with the packing, asking if he'd need any help with boxes and stuff.

Laughing, Sam had told me that they weren't even in Sheridan yet, but he'd let me know once they'd arrived.

I dared to think that things might actually be looking up for Sam and I. Maybe the famed 'Winchester Luck' had finally decided to take a long, long vacation.

W

Ah a day off. Who doesn't love those? One day when you don't have to think about work or do any errands and can just relax. For me, that was a Saturday. My guys and I had just finished up with new library building in Terre Haute- a good thing before it started snowing out- and had a few days before we began our next project.

I had just settled down on the couch with a mug brimming with coffee for a few hours of mindless television when Cas appeared in front of the TV. I jumped, sloshing the steaming beverage all over myself as I barked out the angel's name.

Not only was I shocked that the trench coat-wearing angel had finally decided to show his face after dropping a bomb on my brother and I but that Cas wasn't alone. And his companion was not Abdiel.

The young woman leaning on Cas was a new face to me. She had long, long dark brown hair- the colour was not dissimilar to the shade of Sam's locks- and almond-shaped amber eyes. Her lovely, heart-shaped face was pasty white, dark circles under her eyes belied illness.

"Uh, Cas, who's your girlfriend?" I asked, noticing that the young woman- who couldn't be more than seventeen or eighteen years old- didn't react when I spoke.

"This is Furfur," Cas told me in his customary emotionless tone.

"Is that European?" I joked, and helped the angel sit the woman down on one of the chairs.

"Angelic," Cas informed me shortly.

"What are you doing here? Why did you bring… Furfur here?" I asked.

"You must protect her, Dean," Cas told me, "She is in shock right now but she will regain her senses."

"Why me? I can't have some teenage girl in my condo!" I exclaimed and ran a hand through my hair.

"The arrangement will not be permanent," Castiel assured me, "But Furfur is very vulnerable right now and I cannot let her alone."

I turned my gaze on the 'girl' and saw that she was staring straight ahead, as if she was looking directly through the television instead of at it.

"She's not gonna stay like this, right?" I asked. The last thing I needed was to take care of some catatonic angel.

"I already told you that she will recover," Castiel said in an annoyed tone.

"What the fuck is going on up there?" I demanded to know.

"What are you concerned about, Dean?" Cas asked. Man, I hated it when he answered a question with another question.

"You tell me! Crowley stopped by Sam's place for a chat yesterday and-" I began but the angel cut me off.

"Crowley? The demon, Crowley?" Cas asked, his blue eyes narrowing.

"No Cas, Aleister Crowley- he wanted Sam to join the Abbey of Thelema- of course I'm talking about the demon!" I snapped.

"What did Crowley want, Dean? Is Sam alright?" Cas asked, looking worried.

"Sam's fine. Crowley just wanted to know what's goin' on Upstairs," I shrugged, "Seems he can't get anything through the grapevine."

"What did Sam tell Crowley?" The angel asked and I hesitated.

"To go fuck himself," I answered.

Cas raised his eyebrows, "Look, Sam's not an idiot. He didn't tell that S.O.B anything."

The look of suspicion left the angel's face but I didn't like the idea of Cas thinking Sam was going to spill his guts to a demon. I didn't like Cas's lack of trust in my brother.

"I have stayed too long, Dean," Castiel said, "I have to leave."

"What? Just like that? What's going on with you?" I asked and blocked the angel's getaway.

"Nothing is 'going on' with me, Dean," Cas bristled, "Take care of Furfur. I will return."

The angel moved through the living room and down the short, tiled hall to the front door.

"Just as long as this place doesn't become a half-way house for all your angel buddies," I announced as Cas opened the front door, wondering why he didn't just pop out

"She is not an angel," Castiel said without turning around and disappeared in the hallway.

SPN

Abdiel hated hiding out. He felt like he always had to watch his back. When he'd gone M.I.A after the battle over Lucifer's rebellion it had been different: He knew no one was going to come looking for him, his brothers and sisters too busy celebrating their victory to notice that he'd slipped away from the party just a little too early.

"How did Gabriel do this for so long?" Abdiel muttered to himself as he sat atop of Ayers Rock, watching the sunrise.

C'mon Abdiel, you've done thing stint before; the angel thought as the blazing sun shot rays of gold and pink over the red-sand desert.

Before, Abdiel could easily have gone into hiding for millennia if he had a mind to but now all he could think about was Sam and his family. The angel worried about his friend and his family. Abdiel wanted to be there to protect Sam from Michael and Raphael.

But Abdiel knew he couldn't. He would only put Sam Winchester in more danger if he was seen anywhere near the ex-hunter.

The British angel sighed and closed his eyes.

Father, you should really see what's been happening here. The archangels are using innocent humans as pawns, talking about free will being a joke, starting up the End of Days because of their own hatred…

"I know you've been gone for a long while but I thought I'd just hide out forever too and now look at me!" Abdiel said out loud, eyes still closed but face turned skyward.

"Adam and Eve's children really need your help, Father," Abdiel continued, "Sure, there are some of us angels who care but not enough. We need the big guns for this, you know?"

Who am I kidding? The blighter hasn't said boo for eons, what's to say He'll step in now?

Abdiel peered down at the ground at the bottom of Ayers Rock and sighed, brushed red dust from his greatcoat and stepped off the edge.

W

Smog and sound bombarded Abdiel as he stepped onto the sidewalk of Fleet Street in London, England.

"Ahhh, home away from Heaven," The angel muttered and peered up at the cloudy, miserable sky.

He pulled his coat closer to his body and marched down the pavement, not really sure what he was going to do- being in Britain made Abdiel feel better though, this was the city his vessel had grown up in and the sights always pleased him- but decided not to sweat the small stuff. He knew that Castiel would make sure he stayed hidden and- his father willing- Michael would be kept in the dark about his escape from Alcatraz.

Just as long as Sam Winchester and his family is safe, that's all I bloody well care about; Abdiel told himself, the others can sod-off for all I care.

Sighing heavily, Abdiel turned from Fleet Street and onto a busy thoroughfare, seeking out a decent pub.

SPN

What the fuck was I supposed to do with the girl? She kind of started through the room for a while but finally she seemed to begin snapping out the daze she was in. She looked around the living room with wary eyes, her small body held tense and ready to spring at any moment.

Quietly I moved so that I was facing her, "Hey, are you okay? Are you thirsty?"

The girl's amber eyes narrowed but then turned sad and frightened, "Where am I?"

"You're in Cicero… Indiana," I offered.

"We are on Earth, then," She whispered, looking around the room with wide eyes.

"Uh, yeah," I rubbed the back of my neck, "Look, are you thirsty or hungry? I think I have some cold cuts… I could make you a sandwich…"

Her head turned back quickly so her eyes pinned me. I shivered, oddly reminded of Abdiel's raptor gaze. Maybe they were related somehow.

"I do not need sustenance," The young woman said, "I am an angel of the Lord."

"Uhhh, well, here's the thing Sweetheart," I began, "Cas was here about a half hour ago and according to him, you ain't an angel."

The young woman's expression turned angry, "What are you talking about? Of course I'm an-"

She stopped mid-sentence and her eyes glazed over again. Thinking that she was zoning out again, I grabbed a hold of her shoulder and was surprised to feel it trembling.

"No," The young woman whispered as tears filled her eyes, "No, no…"

"Hey, it'll be okay," I tried to comfort but I had no clue how.

I left the girl's side for a moment and went into the kitchen, filling a glass with water from the tap.

I handed the young woman the cup and she just stared at it for a moment.

"It's just water," I assured her, "You drink it."

After a moment's hesitation, the girl took the cup with both hands and sipped at the water.

Her eyes were still wary as she watched me but I didn't think she deemed me as a threat or anything.

"So, let me get this straight; Cas says that you're no angel but you're here telling me you are? Which one of you is lying?" I asked, trying not to sound like a douchebag about it.

"I was an angel," the young woman said sadly, "But… not anymore… I lost… my Grace."

"How'd you lose it? Like Anna? She ripped out her own Grace… if you did that how come you weren't reborn as a human?" I asked, bubbling with questions. I had thought I knew everything there was to know about angels and yet here I was, in the middle of another mystery.

"I did not rip out my own Grace," The young woman said as though the thought was insulting.

"Okay, than why are you here then?" I asked, "Can't you just book a flight on Heavenly Airlines and go back home?"

The girl shook her head, "I didn't rip my Grace out…"

She paused as she gulped in a couple deep breaths, tears standing out in her amber eyes, ready to fall down her pale cheeks.

The former angel dropped the glass of water- luckily it didn't break but the remaining water soaked a small patch of carpet- and wrapped her arms around her middle, fingers clutching at the blue blouse she wore.

Now I know how to comfort victims of monster attacks but I had no idea how to comfort the young woman who had seemingly not long ago been an angel.

"Take your time," I suggested, feeling really awkward.

I grabbed the box of Kleenex from the coffee table and held it out. The girl ignored them.

"…I had my Grace ripped out…" The young woman stammered.

I stared, "You mean another angel ripped it out?"

She nodded and murmured a name too quiet for me to hear.

So this is what happens when an angel's Grace is ripped from them, I thought. I've seen what happened when an angel removed their own Grace- Anna was the poster girl for that- but I hadn't known angels could take each other's Grace out… I knew a Grace was kind of like a soul for angels so while Anna was reborn as a human infant and knew nothing of her angelic origins, this girl remembered everything about being an angel… but was she human now? That seemed logical to me. Castiel hadn't been so keen to explain it all to me before flying off to God-knows-where.

I rubbed a hand through my hair. What the hell was I supposed to do with this girl now? I wanted Cas to get his butt back here and take her off my hands.

I sat down on the end of the couch, an appropriate distance from the young woman.

"So, uh, what's your name again?" I asked, "I kind of forgot."

SPN

Castiel appeared in the boardroom, invisible, and stared at the archangel before hm. Michael did not seem to notice the lower-ranking angel's presence as he leered down at the bright ball of light cupped in his hands.

The archangel's expression was decidedly hungry and Castiel shuddered from his hidden position.

That must be Furfur's Grace, Castiel thought, but what is Michael doing?

As Castiel continued watching, he wished he hadn't had his question answered.

Michael lifted the Grace up to his face, its pure white light illuminating his vessel's youthful features, and breathed deeply as though catching a pleasing scent.

The archangel closed his eyes and brought the Grace toward his chest.

Castiel's mouth dropped open in shock as Michael absorbed the ball of energy into himself; its glow flaring out from the archangel's closed eyes before becoming extinguished.

Oh Father! Oh Father! If only you could see the corruption in Your kingdom! Castiel thought frantically, wishing he could make a silent exit.

"Castiel," Michael crooned and the trench-coat wearing angel froze in terror.

Normally not one to give into fear, Cas gulped and turned visible as he felt his brother's eyes on him.

"What are you doing, brother?" Castiel managed to conceal his emotions and spoke blankly.

Michael turned to face the other angel and rolled his shoulders, "I am becoming stronger, more powerful."

"Furfur was innocent," Castiel informed the archangel.

"Yes, I see that now," Michael told him.

"This is not right, brother, you know it is not right," Castiel said cautiously.

"Is it better to be loved than feared?" Michael asked, ignoring his brother's question.

"Our Father still loves you, Michael," Castiel answered, "There is time to set things right before you lose control."

Michael's face contorted in anger, "Our Father is dead, Castiel, dead! If He loved any of us He would have returned by now!"

"What happened to you Michael?" Castiel asked.

Michael chuckled, "Sam Winchester happened to me. He pulled me down into Hell along with him and Lucifer."

Castiel nodded. Time in the Cage had warped Michael. Why hadn't he seen it before?

"I'm going to make that maggot pay," Michael whispered dangerously, "I'm going to make sure when I'm done with him he'll be begging to go to Hell!"

"Do not blame the human, Michael," Castiel tried to reason with his elder brother, "It is not his fault destiny chose the path it did for him."

"His destiny, Castiel, was to say 'yes' to Lucifer and die along with my younger brother," Michael hissed.

"But you have watched the Winchester line long enough to know that none of them follow destiny's path," Castiel continued.

Michael chuckled and ran a hand through his vessels' brownish-blond hair, "Oh but I was so close… so close and he ruined it! Even with Dean there, it didn't matter, I would have fulfilled my destiny and killed Lucifer."

"I have not forgotten the hand you played in aiding the Winchester's, Castiel," Michael told him.

Castiel thought for a moment and decided that if he had the chance to go back to that old cemetery in Lawrence, he would bring a hundred Molotov cocktails with him, just for Michael.

"I thought you were not going to harm the Winchesters," Castiel said.

Michael took a step forward, "Oh, it is not I who will harm the Winchester, Castiel, it is you."

Castiel's blue eyes widened.

"No," the trench-coat wearing angel spoke that one syllable with flint in his voice.

In the blink of an eye the angel found himself lying spread-eagle on his back atop the boardroom table, Michael's hand fisted in his dress shirt.

"Oh I think you will, Castiel," Michael smiled, "I really think you will."

SPN

After some calls I finally got Bobby to look after Furfur. Almost a week had passed and without hearing any news from Cas, I decided to make the first move.

Besides, I couldn't take care of an ex-angel all the time. I had work and S.J. and Ben to look after.

Slowly, Furfur came to the realization that she was human. She began eating and drinking- I made sure she at breakfast with me in the mornings and dinner in the evenings- I even made sandwiches for the girl and put them in the fridge for her lunches. Dehydration was something I was really concerned about so I showed her how to turn on the kitchen tap and where to find the glasses in the cupboards.

One day after work I swung by a local thrift store and bought Furfur some more clothes. Being human now meant she needed many different changes and although she looked at me quizzically when I presented her with the assortment of jeans, dresses, sweatshirts and t-shirts, she didn't argue. I don't think she had the heart to.

I tried to give her a more common sounding name- I don't know why, I was bored one night I guess- and went through a list of baby names from a site on the Internet.

After what must have been a hundred different ones I finally hit on something Furfur liked. Felicity.

"It means 'happiness' or 'good luck'," I told her and she had just smiled shyly. I had asked her if she knew what her vessel's name had been but Furfur had told me she didn't remember. I guess that made sense, it seemed like her vessel's body was Furfur's body now. I wondered momentarily what had happened to the human's soul before deciding I really didn't want to know.

W

"You'll really like Bobby," I was telling Furfur (Felicity in public) as we sat on the couch waiting for the old hunter to arrive.

"He's gruff but he's got a big heart," I smiled at the thought of Bobby's reaction when I told him I needed him to babysit an ex-angel.

We had come up with a story that Furfur was Bobby's niece from Canada, come to live with him after her parents' deaths- a car crash, nothing too dramatic- which should be good enough to placate civilians and hunters alike.

I decided to put off calling Sam and telling him about Furfur- at least until he was settled in Sheridan and his stress levels had returned to normal. No point in getting the guy worked up while he was miles away in Montana.

I heard the front door open slowly and made out the familiar sound of shuffling, booted feet on the tiled floor.

Looking over at Furfur in an old Grateful Dead sweater and used pair of blue jeans, I could have sworn she looked nervous.

Bobby poked his head into the room and smiled when he saw me. I stood and gave the old man a hug.

"When are ya going to get out and see me Dean? I'm not getting any younger, you know!" He admonished gruffly but was chuckling.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I'll get Lisa to let me bring Ben and S.J. out before Christmas, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan," The old man laughed and then he saw Furfur.

"So, this our one-time-angel?" He asked.

I nodded, "Furfur, this is Bobby Singer."

The young woman stood and moved toward us with a grace that never ceased to take my breath away.

"Bobby… Uncle Bobby," Furfur said and shook the old hunter's hand, looking in my direction for confirmation.

I smiled and nodded.

I knew that Furfur would be in good hands with Bobby. His house was warded against all manners of supernatural creatures, including angels, and I was sure that Cas wouldn't mind giving Furfur a little extra protection.

I felt bad for the poor girl, I really did; this must have been so alien to her but she was holding up like a champ.

I wondered if she knew exactly what was going on Upstairs but I hadn't had the courage to ask her the entire week she'd been with me.

I was glad to see though that not all angels were assholes and frowned as I thought about the few ones who'd helped us over the years; Gabriel, Castiel (of course), Abdiel and Astoreth… and was disgusted at the small number.

At least we know who are friends are. Thank God for that.

I was a little sad to see Furfur leave with Bobby; my condo seemed emptier without her.

"Hm, maybe I should get myself a cat," I muttered and closed the door as the two disappeared down the hall.

Author's Note:

1. This is the penultimate chapter. The final chapter will be updated immediately following this one so there's not waiting!

2. Please review!