Balthazar didn't show up again for a couple hours and Dean didn't blame him. His apartment was a depressing place. Uriel had collected Jo, apparently on orders from Ellen. He wasn't sure if it was her status as Commissioner or the fact that Ellen could be terrifying that had the angel doing her bidding. Whatever it was, Dean was thankful. The only thing that was keeping the angel from telling everyone where they were seemed to be his loyalty to the Harvelles. It left just four of them plus the babies. Ash had passed out again since any time before two pm registered as time to sleep for him, so it was just Dean, Sam, and Cas toiling away in the living room.
Cas was angry about something. He kept looking up suddenly, eyes narrowed and muttering, "He's lying," with such conviction that even Dean was starting to think so.
From the amount of translating Cas got done, which was practically none judging by the blank pages of notes held in his hands, the angel wasn't really focusing on the Raphael tablet. Dean would help except, well, Arabic just looked like squiggly lines to him, ocean waves drawn by a three year old Sammy.
There was only one tablet in that giant vase after all. The rest of the space had been nothing but wax. Lucky for them, he supposed, since that meant Bela got them the text with just two x-rays. Of course, it also dampened all their hopes that it might actually contain something useful.
Even Sam was all droopy after a phone call back to Jess. Being on the lam working on crazy conspiracy theories for your suspected-murderer brother probably put a damper on a relationship. At least she hadn't turned them in yet. Maybe they'd work out after all. Dean'd never forgive himself if this turned out to be the reason why Sam lost the love of his life.
"Maybe you should go back, just for a week or two," he said and almost regretted bringing it up when Sam gave him a look of utter betrayal and furious anger. Almost. "You could talk to your professors, maybe salvage the semester."
"I've been gone for almost a month, Dean. And yea, sometimes they'll make an exception but only when you have a good reason. This," he gestured at the room at large, "is not something I can just explain."
Dean winced. He knew it wasn't his best idea, but he couldn't help pressing. "You could make something up. And you could see Jess again, you know, smooth things over?"
"She was questioned by the police, Dean," Sam hissed. They broke into her apartment and went through her stuff trying to find me."
"Wait what? They don't think she had anything to do with this, do they?" Dean dropped his book to the table with an angry thud. It was bad enough that Sam had gotten sucked in but he'd never even met Jess in person before.
"They don't, but they think that I might and she's my girlfriend. She had to buy a burner phone just to talk to me. A burner phone. She's never even stolen from the candy bins at the grocery stores. She doesn't even like to jaywalk and she's buying burner phones and lying to the police. It's just, this isn't what I wanted for her."
"Yea," Dean said drily, swallowing a hard lump in his throat. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault." Sam threw his hands up and glared at the coffee table, kicking it lightly with his heel. "I'm just frustrated. I just thought we would have something by now. You know, when Bela showed up to help I thought, 'It's almost over,' but they didn't know what was going on either, not everything at least. And just keeps getting deeper and deeper and I'm scared of hitting the bottom now because what if we don't like what's there?"
Dean stayed quiet because he couldn't offer anything to comfort his brother or calm him down. He wasn't sure what the point of all this was anymore. If this was a bottomless pit leading straight to hell, he didn't know why they were still digging. Maybe it would just be best if he just turned himself in. Michael was gone now, and so what if they arrested him? Worst comes to worst, they'd slap a life sentence on him and study him like an insect. A human sporting wings. Fascinating. Everyone else would be able to get back to their lives. And hell, if they could convince the rest of the angels that they hadn't gone batshit insane, they might even get some help on this Lucifer thing.
"I'm going to go for a walk," he muttered and stood, stretching his arms behind his back and cracking his neck, more out of force of habit than any lingering stiffness. He'd jacked one of Balthazar's coats and cut two slits up the back to accommodate the wings so he could pass as a proper angel now. Anyone looking for Dean Winchester would be looking for a human, thought he wasn't so sure he wanted to avoid getting caught now.
No one tried to stop him as he trudged down the stairs to the street level. The street was fairly quiet, a few men and women rushing back and forth during their lunch hour. A tiny cafe tucked in the armpit of building had a couple teenagers sitting out front who didn't pay Dean any mind. Kids these days, Dean snorted, feeling old. Didn't even register an angel walking around in torn clothing.
"What are you doing?" a familiar deep voice called from just behind his shoulder. Dean steeled himself with a deep breath before turning around to face his stalker. A hoodie that looked like it'd been spat out of the deepest dregs of Gabriel's closet was wrapped around Cas, nearly engulfing his smaller figure. The drawstring was pulled tight so all Dean could make out was a pair of pink lips on a strong jaw, but it was still undeniably Castiel.
"Going for a walk." Dean kept his voice carefully light.
Cas wasn't buying it though. His lower jaw jutted out as he stepped close to mutter in Dean's ear. "You are a wanted fugitive. Your face is plastered over every media outlet accessible by Central, which is, save for a few independently owned television stations and websites, all of them. I do not know what your purpose is in endangering everyone like this. You are two blocks away from Balthazar's residence. Should you be captured, it is a very short leap to determine where you have been hiding for the past few days. Anyone who did not manage to escape would be taken into custody for impeding an official investigation. Those who did would be trapped in France. So tell me what you are doing, or return to the apartment."
The words were quiet and commanding and when Dean leaned back to look Cas in the face, the man did not blink once, just quietly stared him down. It was weird, really, that he seemed more intimidating drowning in an oversized sweatshirt than with a pair of looming wings. Luckily, Dean liked a little fight.
"You know," Dean murmured back, trying to match the deepness of Castiel's voice. "You look really suspicious dressed like that." He quirked an eyebrow at the angel as he stilled and seemed to consider the comment for a moment. Two hands, entirely enveloped by bright green fabric save the tips of the fingers, tugged at the edges of the hood until the edges had smoothed out and Dean could make out Castiel's squinty eyes. Dean grinned and the outright hostile look melted into something a little more unsure.
"Is this better?"
"Yea."
Castiel nodded sharply and led Dean away with a hand on his arm. "This was reckless. What were you thinking?"
Dean shook his head though Cas probably couldn't see it. "I wasn't. I just.." He'd just wanted an easy fix, a magic button, and he knew he wasn't going to find it in that apartment. "Needed some air," he finished lamely.
He had no expectations that Castiel would accept that as an explanation, but the angel surprised him.
"Okay," Cas said, not looking back as they wound their way back around the corner.
Dean had resigned himself back to the drudgery of research when a tinny voice echoed from behind them.
"Arrete!"
He didn't think much of it until Cas' grip on his wrist tightened and the angel turned to look behind them, face pale. Two policemen hid behind the open doors of their car. One of them was speaking into the microphone in the car while the other muttered into the receiver at his shoulder.
"Mettez vos mains en l'air et se tourner lentement!" the first officer yelled through the speaker.
Dean surged forward, grabbing the wrist of the hand Cas' had wrapped around his arm and tugging him forward. The words meant nothing to him. He'd taken some Spanish in college but he could just about manage to ask where the bathroom was. That didn't mean that Dean didn't know exactly what they wanted.
Cas flailed behind him, legs flying in a haphazard jumble of limbs like a kid just gone through his growth spurt. They had to get off the street. It was narrow but straight and there was no way they were losing the police running along the sidewalk. An alley, if it could be called that, opened up to their right and Dean jerked the two of them into the tight space. He could feel the tips of his wings brush against the adjacent buildings with each step, but he didn't have time to worry about that now. As tiny as the alley was, someone had still managed to install a sort of fire escape up the side of one building, just a rusty ladder that Dean wouldn't trust under normal circumstances but they were out of options.
"Come on." He laced his fingers together and got down on one knee.
"We're going up there?"
"Well do you see any other options?" Dean hissed, eyes fixed on the end of the alley. The police would probably call for back-up and if they actually sent an angel to get the, they were screwed. Cas' foot landed squarely in his hands as the angel reached up towards the bottom of the ladder and Dean lifted him easily before jumping up himself. Hand over hand, he climbed after Cas until they reached the edge of the sloped roof.
This might not have been the best plan. They were completely exposed up here, though the building was large enough that they couldn't be seen from street level.
"Get down," Dean yelled as Cas stood up shakily. The tiles were rough, so Cas probably wouldn't slip off, but it was still a good forty degree angle up here and he didn't have wings anymore.
"I won't fall," Cas called back, turning his body slowly to look around them. The buildings were nearly identical, same height, same shape, same steepled roofs. Paris was not built for rooftop chase scenes. Best they could hope for was that no one would notice them up here and they'd give up the search or move far enough away for them to get back to Balthazars. First thing Dean would do when he got back was get himself a damned phone.
"Get down, you idiot! We're four stories up!" Dean yelled again, plastering himself closer to the roof. All he could think about was that if a strong wind came and caught the stupid feathery sails on his back or his hands started sweating then he was done. He could practically feel himself tipping backwards and had to fight the irrational urge to get up.
"You have to fly us out of here," Cas said, edging down the roof to crouch by Dean's hand, nearly stepping on his hand.
"No," Dean said before the words fully registered. When they did, he followed it up with an emphatic, "Hell no!"
"We can't stay here," Cas argued. "And we can't go back to the street."
The blare of sirens passing by below cut through the blood rushing through Dean's ears and he closed his eyes, trying to refocus on something other than his constant litany of "Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall."
"Dean!" Cas yelled again and Dean's nearly had a heart attack when the angel pushed at his hand.
"Yea, yea, I'm thinking!" he growled out, trying to melt further against the roofing tiles. The sirens receded into the distance and some of the tension seeped out of Dean. They were two blocks away from Balthazar's place, but that wasn't much of an option right now. The police would just follow them right back, and Cas was right. Law enforcement didn't necessarily attract the Einsteins and Maxwells, but someone was going to figure out that Balthazar was the one hiding them now that they knew they were in Paris.
Sure, he could still let himself get caught. It wouldn't be hard, though they'd probably have to airlift him into custody since there was no way he was climbing back down that ladder. Why was it always so much easier getting into these stupid situations? Everyone else though, he couldn't drag them down with them. The plan had expanded past "get away from the police" to "get away from the police and warn everyone."
"Dean," Cas said again and Dean shushed him immediately. He already knew the angel's suggestion. "Dean, there's a helicopter coming."
His head shot up. Cas was perched near the steeple of the roof, dark head poking up above the apex. Dean couldn't see the helicopter from where he was near the bottom edge, but Cas didn't really make things up, and this would be a hell of a time for him to start.
The angel slipped down, crab-crawling on all floors to lie next to Dean facing the sky. "Two helicopters each carrying a tactical team," he recited dully. "A tactical team is composed of six members armed with SIG Pro SP 2022 semi-automatic pistols, Smith and Wesson 686 revolvers, SSG551 commando assault rifles, and Blaser LRS2 sniper rifles. We should be thankful that we are not in the United States or the SWAT teams would be armed with submachine guns as well, although they do have minimized overpenetration so there would be a smaller risk of innocent bystanders being hit by a bullet that passed through one of us."
Cas' voice was calm and steady, but rose higher and higher with each word until it was merely a squeak at the end. The ratcheting thrum of helicopter blades grew louder. They probably had another ten minutes before they were spotted. Maybe someone had already seen them climbing up onto the roof, or Cas' head poking out from the steeple. Five minutes then.
"You have to fly us out of here," Cas said again, his clammy hand grabbing onto Dean's. There wasn't anything special about the touch, just a gross, sweaty palm clenched around the back of his hand. Dean was never going to get used to seeing Cas scared. The image he saw burned into his eyelids was still the stoic stillness the angel had exhibited even as Alistair ripped into his back. But this was twice now in two days, and it still made something inside Dean jump in horror.
"Hey," Dean snapped, turning his hand around to fumble their fingers together. "It's going to be okay. We'll get out of this."
Castiel nodded back at him frantically, eyes wide and blue, his pupils little more than pinpricks in the daylight. "You have to fly," Cas said again, like it was a prayer to keep him safe in troubled times.
Dean glanced behind them at the steep drop back down to the road. Okay, so he had wings, but they were heavy as fuck. And with two men? He didn't need that semester in fluid dynamics to know that there was no way in hell they wouldn't end up as scrambled guts on the pavement.
"You have to teach me angel magic," he said, squeezing Cas' hand in an attempt to keep him grounded. At any other time, he probably would have gotten some pissy answer about how it wasn't magic. That it was some form of metaphysics packaged as God's great celestial gift, but Cas just stared at him, bewildered.
"You don't see it?"
"What?" Dean looked around and all he could see was the rapidly growing specks that were the incoming helicopters.
"All around you, the subspace. The aether."
"You gotta help me out here, cause the only thing I see all around is air and I don't even really see that."
"You just have to go into it!" Cas growled, squeezing Dean's hand so hard that he must think he could force the knowledge into him through osmosis.
"Not helpful, Cas!" The copters were close enough now that Dean could make out the blue and white markings.
"It should come naturally! Its not something you have to think about. Just look for the edges of the world and slip between them."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Cas scrambled onto his feet, hand still clutched firmly around Dean's, dragging his arm up with him. "Close your eyes," Cas commanded. "Open your wings."
There wasn't much Dean could do other than give it a try. He didn't expect there to be any edges or dimensions, but it was better than lying here like a slug. This was the first time he'd deliberately attempted to move the wings. They were a fancy cape that moved when he moved, so he first tried flexing his back. He could feel them twitch. Foreign muscles twinged against his borrowed jacket, a little itchy, a little tingly. Suddenly, the warm weight against his back disappeared as the wings lifted into the air.
"Holy shit," he said as his eyes snapped open so he could look at the feathers over his shoulder. They stood like two flags or banners carried around by medieval knights to show their colors. Sir Dean Winchester of house Please Let This Work.
"Try to feel with them, see if you can find anything beyond the physical."
Dean closed his eyes again. He felt. Wind. Lots and lots of wind. Because helicopter blades stirred up a fuck ton of wind and he had two sails protruding from his back.
"Shit!" he yelled as he felt his body being lifted from the roof. Cas had both hands on him now and was leaning so far back that he might as well have been lying down.
Cas' mouth moved, wide open and screaming, but all Dean could make out was "Down!"
"How?" he screamed back.
The wind got stronger as the second helicopter got into range. He could hear Cas screaming his name and someone yelling in French, but mostly just the quick rabbit beat of his own heart as the two of them were lifted off the roof.
Another hand fisted in the front of his jacket. This was it. Unless the French had developed transporter beams that they were keeping secret, this was how he was going to die. There was so much shit he hadn't finished. Lucifer was still out there with Rachel, creating another monster. Azazel was still wearing those ugly eyes. And he was leaving Sam alone.
When he'd pictured this moment, he'd always assumed he'd die bloody and alone doing something reckless. He got the reckless down, but at least he wasn't bloody yet and unfortunately he wasn't alone. Castiel's arm was solid, his only anchor even though it was falling with him. His other hand, clenched in the front of his coat was slowly ripping away as the fabric tore across his back. And his other hand, on his arm was large, warm, painful and where the hell did Cas get a third hand?
The world yanked away and he saw the edges fold over themselves in a rush. So that's what Cas meant. He knew immediately that he was flying Angel Air and not Demon Delivery because instead of a dark tunnel, he saw everything. The world was exploded through a kaleidoscope and then compressed itself as he rushed past. Looking back he could see Cas, clinging on by one arm, eyes shut and looking like he was going to puke. He tightened his grip. It would be just his luck to get himself a miracle and leave Cas behind.
They weren't heading back to the apartment. The direction was wrong and they'd already flown far further than the two blocks they'd walked. The gold-blond blur of wings in front of him were familiar, but he couldn't make out a body much less a face. Dark cave walls rushed up towards him and he braced himself for impact, but none came. By the time he opened his eyes again, they had stopped inside a dark cavern. A single light shone in front of them, a hundred yards away.
"This way," Balthazar hissed, and waved them forward.
His legs felt like jelly. Cas' hands on his wrist were like claws, digging into his skin. "That was..." he said scratchily. He licked his lips and searched for the right words.
"Lucky. That was lucky." Cas' voice didn't shake even though his hands did. "I can't believe... we were falling and then... how did..."
"I don't know, fuck, I don't know." Dean turned away from the light to look at Castiel's shell-shocked face. His eyes were shut and his teeth were clenched painfully, just breathing.
"Hey." Dean patted one of Cas' hands. "Come on."
For a moment, Castiel's hand unclenched, just to latch onto Dean's other one.
"Yea, okay," Dean sighed. When Sam was little and terrified of the monsters in his closet, and no amount of checking and double-checking could convince him to stop being scared, the only thing that could get him to calm down was a hand on his back and steady nonsense in his ears. It was different doing that for Cas now, especially since he didn't let go of Dean's arms even as he let himself be hugged. Because apparently Cas never learned how to hug. He was a stiff statue, clutching at Dean's elbows, but his breathing evened out and his jaw unclenched enough to brush against Dean's shoulder. Some of Dean's own tension seemed to seep away at the same time.
"My eyes are adjusting," Cas muttered, as if he had to explain away his nerves.
"Still scared of the dark, huh." Dean pulled back and rubbed his wrists.
"Of all the things that people are scared of, I find that the dark is one of the few things that is truly terrifying."
So they were back to full sentences. Good. "Let's see where Balthazar's brought us this time."
It wasn't just Balthazar that was waiting for them under the light. The whole gang was here. Sam, Jo, Ash, Uriel...
"Where're the tater tots?" Dean asked, looking around for a crib or carrier he hadn't seen.
"I left them behind," Uriel answered, glaring. If Dean had thought his voice was big before, it was gigantic now. Forget Morgan Freeman. This was what God probably sounded like.
"What the hell? You left two babies by themselves?" His own voice sounded tinny.
"They are fledglings. They will be unharmed and relocated to a more suitable home."
Dean caught the dirty look Balthazar shot the other angel before saying, "Yes, well a cave isn't the most suitable location for children."
"How'd you find us?" Cas asked, rubbing his arms.
"This is why you can't have nice things, Cassie," Balthazar sighed with a shake of his head. He tossed a phone over to Castiel and Dean peered over his shoulder to get a look. A bright red bulletin announcing the location of the Angel's Most Wanted.
"I hate that picture," Dean muttered. There was an entire slideshow of his face at different angles in different lighting, including, apparently, a joke image he'd taken in college. He had stolen his friend's glasses and was pretending to eat the Lord of the Rings extended edition box set. He forgets why now.
"I think it's a fairly accurate portrayal," Cas mumbled back and Dean couldn't figure out if he was joking or serious. "The lighting is excellent and this would give people an idea of what you'd look like should you adopt glasses as a disguise."
Both.
"Did they make the rest of you?" Dean asked as Cas flipped through the rest of the notices.
"I don't think so. Uriel got us out of there before we even knew something was wrong," Sam answered.
He gave his brother a once over, just to be sure he was okay. It'd been less than an hour and yet it still felt like he hadn't seen him in years. Sam's arms were full of books and stacks of paper. Always trust Sam to save the research. Dean turned to Jo. "Your mom still covering for you and Ash?"
"Yea," she nodded. "She's not happy about it, though. Walker's taken over at Central even though she's fighting for a joint council of all the commissioners. If he finds out she's working with you then..."
"Then she's got a blind shot in hell," Dean sighed. "Okay. You should go back. Ash too."
"Way ahead of you hombre. Can't really work my magic on Stone Age tech." Ash tapped his knuckles against a large rock.
"I should go as well," Cas chimed in and Dean's head snapped around.
"What." That did not sound like a good idea. Especially after all the trouble they went through not to get caught by the authorities.
"We can't keep hiding. We need resources, mobility, and if half our attention is on running, we might be too late. Michael didn't dare accuse me of having anything to do with the murder. I'm just a witness wanted for questioning. Maybe I can get the charges dropped."
"This is Gordon, you're talking about," Balthazar said, sounding just as unimpressed as Dean felt. Dean had never met Central's operations coordinator, but before this he'd never heard anything particularly bad about him.
"You guys have a history?" Dean prompted.
"Not me," Cas grumbled. "Balthazar does."
"I maintain to this day that I had nothing to do with it. Everything was entirely Pamela's idea."
"Is this something that's going to be a problem?" Dean crossed his arms and glared at him. Another spanner in the works. Why wasn't he surprised?
Balthazar looked worried, chewing on his lip as he took his phone back from Castiel. "I don't think so. His issue is really with Pamela, and me only because I know. Castiel shouldn't offer any particular provocation. But Walker is not a good man. Ruthless, yes. Efficient, yes, but I don't expect him to show Castiel any mercies. I don't know how he'll react to an angel without wings."
Dean glanced over at Castiel. Just a day ago, the angel had told him he found losing his wings to be easy, but now. Now he'd had to deal with the handicaps, the irritations, the mortality. Castiel looked away and Dean cleared his throat.
"But it's a council now, right? Not just Gordon making the decisions?"
"I said that my mom's trying. I mean, Central's a mess with Michael missing, but that doesn't mean she can just instate a new regime while no one's looking," Jo crossed her arms to mirror Dean. It looked petulant on her. He lowered his arms to his side.
"Okay, then how long before she can get it running?"
"I don't know. I'd have to ask her. Maybe a day or two?"
Cas caught his eye and deflated a little. "I'll wait until tomorrow." The words untied a knot that had formed in Dean's stomach and he gave the angel a half-hearted smile.
"I believe I have to relieve myself," Castiel said coolly and walked away from their little group. Dean looked around the circle of light again. Each of them was cast in an eerie yellow glow from the single lantern at the center. One person was missing though.
"Did you leave Zachariah behind, too?"
Uriel stared hard at him and said matter-of-factly, "Zachariah is dead."
Dean was irrationally happy that Cas wasn't there to hear about it.
"Don't tell him, okay?" Dean asked, glancing around at each of them.
"Wasn't going to," Balthazar assured him.
"That's good." Dean nodded to himself. No reason to worry Cas further. Dean was worrying enough for the lot of them.