Jophiel strode down the long white hallways of Heaven, towards what might be his death. If angels could feel fear, he might have been afraid. His garrison had failed the mission - Jophiel had failed his mission. And as their Commander, Jophiel was required to report.

His soldiers were in their barracks, waiting for him to return with further orders but Jophiel wasn't sure he would. Michael was known for his wrath. He expected his orders to be followed to the letter and did not tolerate failure from anyone. No exceptions.

Jophiel had more thoughts, but with angel radio buzzing in his head, he didn't want to risk putting those thoughts in any terms that one of his siblings could hear. Not that it would matter.

Michael's office was at the end of the longest hallway of Heaven, as far into the expanse as anyone could get (as far as anyone was aware). It was rare for anyone besides Michael to go into his office- rumor was even Raphael wasn't allowed back there.

But he'd requested Jophiel's attendance in his office.

Jophiel was not afraid. Angels did not feel.

But he wasn't stupid, he knew that it was unlikely for him to walk away from this meeting. At least Castiel was his second. He would make an excellent Garrison Commander. He was a young angel but sharp and Jophiel's best soldier despite his youth. He'd spent even longer than Jophiel himself had on this mission, scouring Heaven incessantly until every single soul had been accounted for. And still, they had not found Jessica Moore's soul.

He reached the door, but before he could knock or even call out to the archangel with his grace, the door swung open. Jophiel's grace curled in on itself in the presence of the archangel and the sheer power flooding the room. Once, when he was but a fledgling, this grace had been warm, comforting, and beautiful. Jophiel and the others had basked in it, enjoying the presence of their oldest brother.

Now, it was not warm, it was scorching. It was like what he imagined holy fire felt like, burning, intense, and suffocating. He had no need to breathe but it was an oppressive presence that weighed down on his grace with a weight that threatened to engulf him.

"Jophiel."

Michael was not in a vessel, but his true form, filling an expanse beyond anything that words could ever describe. Jophiel's grace shuddered at the power in his brother's voice, like a thousand suns at once. "Report."

Jophiel did not flinch but his grace wanted to. Michael already knew- of course he did- he was their leader. The eldest angel in existence and his direct superior. There could be no doubt.

"It was a failure." Jophiel said flatly, not letting anything that could be perceived as emotion color his tone. "We could not locate Jessica Moore's soul in Heaven."

"Did you check Earth?" Michael's booming voice caused Jophiel very being to vibrate. "Hell?"

"We did not have the authorization to check Hell," Jophiel stated, "and I dispatched Gael and Illiam to Earth. They did a cursory search that yielded no indications Jessica Moore was there."

Michael's grace somehow grew even hotter. "You didn't search carefully? And I said find her soul. We must be sure that she is dead and beyond Sam's reach. She has to be gone, Jophiel."

Jophiel nodded. "I know what you said, Michael. But you did not instruct us to check Hell. Her soul was destined for Heaven and any invasion of Hell would only disrupt the plan by causing unnecessary conflict."

"Are you arguing with me?" Michael boomed. Jophiel's grace curled in as the vessel he was wearing started to fall away in the presence of the enraged archangel. "You dare question me?"

Jophiel lowered his head. "No, brother. I apologize. But I cannot locate her soul-"

"Then I will find someone who can. Someone who follows orders. You have failed me and the entirety of Heaven Jophiel." Michael's grace grew more intense and Jophiel's vessel vanished, leaving his true form exposed, dwarfed by the archangel's massive presence. "You are a disgrace, you are hindering our objective and you are incompetent. You must pay for that."

His grace grew brighter and Jophiel's own grace - his true form, his essence - screamed in pain as his brother's power overwhelmed him, erasing him from existence. In a moment it was over.

Michael's grace paused, cooling slightly.

"Raphael," he called out into his brother's mind. "Notify the seraphim- Jophiel's second- that he is now Garrison Commander. His mission - his alone - is to right Jophiel's failures. Tell him that he is not to take any other angels and that he is not to rest until he finds her soul or he will face the same consequences as Jophiel. He will report to Uriel now as well. I do not have time for such matters"

In another part of Heaven, there was no need for Raphael to inform the Garrison of Jophiel's fate. The Garrison had expected some sort of punishment and had gotten it. Each of them had been reeducated upon their failure, as failure could only mean that they were working against the plans of heaven. They were each reminded that following orders was their job. Following orders was their sole purpose. Following orders would fulfill God's plan. Reeducation took time, especially for the whole Garrison, but they doubted that that would be their only punishment once they were released. They knew without being told what had happened. They had felt the smiting - everyone had felt Jophiel's grace blink out of existence, vanishing from their collective consciousness. They would not grieve- they couldn't after all. That would require feeling and grief... well that was such a human emotion. There was no way that angels could possibly feel that. It was objectively a loss, of course. Jophiel had been a good commander since Anna had vanished . But he had failed, and at such an important task. It was punishment for his failures. Nothing more.

Now that role fell to Castiel. Though he was the youngest out of them all, it was hardly enough to be accounted for. He'd been second since Balthazar's sudden departure nearly two millennia ago, which too stung in a way (but a part of Castiel, a part he would never, ever acknowledge, the part that had thoughts he never even fully let form, thought that maybe it was better for Balthazar to be gone, rather than be put in this position now. He was too insolent to do this without meeting the same fate as Jophiel).

They all remained quiet, though, still trying to recover from their long mission. Castiel hadn't rested, desperately searching for Jessica Moore's soul so that this very event could be prevented. So that the apocalypse could just move along as it should. They didn't trust the demons not to try and skew things to their side, using Jessica's soul for some purpose. But they weren't allowed in Hell and barging in early would only implode the tenuous truce that was formed to set the apocalypse in motion.

Castiel and the others waited patiently until suddenly there was a booming voice filling Castiel's being - a voice he knew was Raphael using his True Voice. It was loud and resounding and Castiel's grace could hardly handle the amount of power contained within it, when it was being projected so forcefully.

"Your orders are to complete Jophiel's mission alone. Failure will not be tolerated. Go where you must, do what you must, but locate that soul."

The words reverberated to the core of Castiel's being, power dripping from each one. He did not shy away, however. The power did not care about him. Nothing scared him. He would not fail, so there was no need to fear.

Castiel had searched Heaven. He'd personally gone through every human's Heaven, spreading his grace, searching for one soul. One single soul.

Jessica Moore's.

Her soul was certainly fit for Heaven. He'd seen it exactly once, when the Garrison had been dispatched to eliminate a rogue faction of demons that wished to jumpstart the plans for the apocalypse before it was time. The demons were weak, nothing more than bottom feeders who were too impatient to be good soldiers. They were laughably easy to kill, even folded into a vessel that didn't fit particularly well.

They had been after Jessica and Samuel (Samuel's soul was disgusting, an abomination, tainted as it was. Castiel had wanted to smite the man the moment that he felt the taint) and had gotten closer than Heaven would have liked before the garrison arrived.

Jophiel had dispatched Castiel and Miriam to be sure that no demons had slipped by and that the Winchester was unaware of what had transpired.

It wasn't hard to find Samuel's soul- it took only a slight brush of grace to find it, sticking out like a sore thumb, stained with demon blood and darkness. Castiel had to clamp down on his grace to keep it from smiting the abomination on instinct.

Samuel was walking down the street with Jessica, it seemed. Castiel and Miriam slipped easily into the large crowd, trailing them from several feet behind. Despite how overwhelmingly wrong Sam's soul felt, it couldn't smother the warm glow of Jessica's. Her soul was one truly fit for Heaven. Perhaps her death would be good for her, getting her bright soul away from the abomination once and for all.

"He does not know," Miriam announced quietly after a moment, reminding Castiel of why they were here. "Have you found any more demons, Castiel?"

Castiel didn't let his face or grace show it but he hadn't looked. So intrigued by Jessica's soul, especially in juxtaposition to Samuel's, his mission had slipped his mind. How had that happened?

It took him only a moment to throw his grace out, feeling for other demons, before pulling it back in. "None but the abomination and Hell's plant," Castiel informed her quietly.

Mirian nodded sharply, her face pinched (it was a somewhat strange expression on the child that was her vessel). "Let's report then. The others have already returned."

Castiel nodded, hoping that Miriam had not noticed his distraction on this mission. It was simply strange that something so Heavenly would consort so willingly with an abomination of Hell. But, Hell was a corrupter after all.

They'd left their vessels then, returning to Heaven to report another success. That had been nearly a year ago in Earth time, but much longer in Heaven. Time worked differently- it didn't really exist in the way that it did on Earth and Castiel's concept of time as the humans understood it was murky at best.

Castiel would, however, return to Earth, and search there for her soul. That was the next logical option. Perhaps Hell didn't actually kill her and she found some other way to return Sam to hunting. Or perhaps Hell was betraying them- Castiel had no qualms believing that Hell, the blight on the universe that it was, would be willing to trick them, to lure them into a false sense of security.

It was possible that they were undermining the apocalypse because they knew that there was no chance of winning. Angels were inherently superior to demons, in power, in belief, in everything. Despite the high number of demons, angels were still far more powerful than most demons. And in the end, Michael was the first archangel. He'd fought Lucifer and cast him down once. Michael could beat the devil again.

Heaven would win the fight. It was their Father's plan.

He would obey his orders to make it happen (despite the twinge in his grace that Castiel dared not dwell on. He could not doubt. This had to be his father's plan and he would obey, not matter the cost.)

So, Castiel prepared to head to Earth. He appointed Miriam as his second. She was a good soldier, level headed, and excellent at following orders as well as giving them. She would keep the Garrison running efficiently until he was able to return, with Jessica's soul secured for Heaven.

He didn't have to request a trip outside of Heaven as most angels did, or even file his intentions. He was on direct orders from an archangel. Even most garrisons when on Uriah or Uriel's orders had to file intentions and plans, but with the instructions from Raphael, Castiel had permission to do what he needed to to find the soul. He could go to Earth and to Hell, no questions asked (though Castiel hoped that he could avoid Hell. For an angel to brave the depths of Hell alone was dangerous, or more accurately, tantamount to suicide. But he would do it if he had to. The level of freedom he had been granted was unusual but one less barrier to completing his mission.

The next boundary, and the biggest, was his vessel.

Unlike an Archangel, Castiel did not require a true vessel. He could, theoretically, choose any human he wished to be his vessel and they would work well enough. But all angels did have preferred bloodlines that seemed more capable of handling angels for long periods of time. His was the Novak bloodline; the first time he visited Earth, that was who he'd chosen and that had somehow, imbued the bloodline with the ability to sustain Castiel's grace better than most.

Thankfully, Jimmy Novak was a religious man.

The man prayed often, usually at least once a day, if not more. And he almost always asked to be of service to God, to help do God's will. So the next time Jimmy prayed, Castiel spoke.

When Castiel spoke to the man, he understood his true voice and was elated. The sheer joy that the Castiel could feel from his future vessel for being asked to house an angel was immense.

"A being of God." Jimmy breathed, "An angel wants me? To be your…"

"My vessel" Castiel intoned, letting his true voice ring powerful in Jimmy's mind. "Do you consent?"

"Of course" Jimmy replied, "Yes, what do I need to do?"

Castiel allowed himself a small smile. What a righteous man, a true believer. "Go outside, Jimmy Novak. Do not let your wife see this. "

Castiel could see Jimmy leave, he kissed his wife and hugged his daughter, saying that he'd been called to a higher purpose. His wife did not understand. She did not believe as fervently as Jimmy did.

Jimmy paused only to put on his coat and tell his wife to stay inside.

Amelia did not listen.

Castiel came anyways. Amelia Novak did not listen despite the warning. If she did not look away and died, Castiel would not be at fault. Orders are given for a reason after all.

Castiel filled Jimmy Novak. Pushing the other man into the back of his mind, trapping his soul down within his grace. He felt the twinges for fear and panic from the soul but it did not matter. He had consented. Castiel had this vessel now. It was his until Castiel completed his mission.

He didn't even look back to see if Amelia had covered her eyes. He simply vanished. Castiel had a mission. It did not concern her.

Castiel first tried Hell. That would be the best-case scenario, as much as he detested admitting it. If her soul was in Hell- if it truly had gone there or if that slimy demon had taken it just to anger Heaven, it would be fine. Jessica's soul belonged in Heaven, but if she was in Hell, she was at least dead. When they raised the Righteous Man from Hell, then perhaps Uriel would request her soul be pulled from Hell's pits. Uriel wanted the apocalypse but surely would not stand by a completely innocent soul being condemned to the fires of hell.

Castiel did not wish to visit Hell. He'd never been there, actually, but Balthazar had, once, just before he left. The garrison had been split up for that mission and Castiel was in the part that had been sent to Earth rather than into the pit, eons ago.

Balthazar had never been the same and promptly left Heaven, likely falling and dying.

But Castiel was stronger than Balthazar- better with orders, more belief in the objectives of Heaven. He was a stronger angel and that was the long and the short of it. Balthazar had been doomed to fail. Castiel would not.

But still, an angel in Hell on his own... It was inviting death or at the least a hard fight before he could convince them he came within the terms of the agreement. So first he would summon a demon.

It felt… wrong to tamper with things of Hell, to knowingly pull up one of the twisted ones from the depths of their eternal punishment and willingly speak to it. Every instinct within Castiel was screaming not to. To smite it on sight. But he would resist. The information that it could give him was too necessary to his mission.

So, he summoned a demon. The magic he used felt wrong to his grace, but it was the simplest way for him to bring the demon forth.

He could feel it the moment that the demon broke through the barrier between Earth and Hell. Castiel had to pull his grace in tightly, binding it tightly inside the body of Jimmy Novak as the demon materialized in front of him, directly into the trap that Castiel had carved into the Earth with his blade.

It was wearing a person- a boy no older than 10, looking angry and a little bit scared.

Good. Castiel needed information and had no time to waste.

"Angel,'' the demon hissed, its eyes flashing a surprising shade of red rather than the lowly black he expected.

"Demon," Casriel intoned, Jimmy's voice far deeper and rougher than it had been prior to Castiel inhabiting it. "I demand information on Jessica Moore's soul."

The demon scowled with its human face and its true face, the dark disgusting, hellish one, made a similar movement. "Why should I tell you," it hissed, its true voice grating against the very fiber of Castiel's being.

Castiel scowled and let just enough of his grace shine through to cause the demon to flinch. "Because I am not afraid to erase your puny being from existence"

The demon hissed again, recoiling away. "I could take you, you're nothing more than a common angel," it spat. "If I were to get out of this trap-"

"You will not get out." Castiel stated. "Tell me why Hell has taken Jessica Moore's soul or I will smite you where you stand."

The demon laughed, its repulsive face twisting in a way that disgusted Castiel. "I'm not afraid of you. I came from Hell, whatever you do will be better than what Hell will do if they find out I told you anything. I'm just a crossroads demon- I don't give a shit about this apocalypse and the stupid girl's soul."

Castiel glowered and without a second thought, he summoned his blade, taking a step closer and sent it through the demon's chest.

Its putrid, twisted soul lit up with Castiel's Heavenly light, the two forces fighting until the demon's body went slack on the blade.

Hell would not be so easily broken. But for all that, Castiel was sure that it would not be long until he found a coward. Hell was full of them after all.

Castiel summoned yet another demon- this time a black eye who just laughed at Castiel's threats. She laughed up until Castiel drove a blade into her being and destroyed it. Demons truly were the worst.

Finally, the third one he summoned was another crossroads demon- a woman, gorgeous by human standards, who looked more irritated than scared or cocky.

"So you're the angel causing havoc in Hell," she purred as she walked right up to the edge of the devil's trap. "My boss isn't happy and I doubt yours will be when he finds out what you've done, naughty angel."

Castiel's expression remained blank. She was simply wrong, on his account. "Raphael has given me direct orders to do what I must to complete my mission. I doubt he will mind if I remove a few unimportant demons from existence."

"Ugh, I forgot how obnoxious those angels are,'' The demon sneered. "I'm Katy, oh Angel most glorious, looking down your nose at me. I assume you want something from little old me? I've never made a deal with an angel before."

Castiel narrowed his eyes but did not let the petty words of the demon affect him. She was simply a lesser creature trying to get a rise. "I want to know why Hell did not allow Jessica Moore's soul to go to Heaven. We were supposed to receive her soul and did not."

The demon didn't look impressed. "Sugar, I don't know who you've been talking too, but Hell doesn't have that blonde bitch's soul- as much as I wish we did. Ooh, I might even leave the crossroads to get my hands on Sam Winchester's plaything, just to say that I did. It would be glorious, her bright soul gettin' all twisted-"

"Enough," Castiel said gruffly. "Are you saying that you don't have her soul?"

The demon- he would not use its name- rolled her eyes "I know angels are all brawn and no brain, but really? I literally just said that. As a matter of fact I heard Brady- the demon that did her in- say that he made sure a reaper took her soul to Heaven. I mean he's always been full of shit, especially since he got that promotion from Azazel - which he did not deserve by the way, Margies should totally have gotten it - but he is such as ass-kisser. Anyway, I know she isn't in Hell, because trust me sugar, I'd hear about it."

Castiel tilted his head, "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Katy snorted "You don't sugar. That's the thing. And I don't give shit if you do or don't, angel. Maybe I'm lying to ya, maybe I'm not, that's just the chance you're gonna have to take. I am a demon after all. That's the fun of it darlin'."

Castiel thought for a moment. It was likely the demon was lying to him- it's what they did, what they were best at. He couldn't take the word of just this demon. But, she'd at least offered information. Her death could at least be quick.

Castiel took a step forward and the demon flashed a sultry smile. " Oh, what's this? am I free to g-"

Castiel cleanly drove the blade through her heart, pulling it out just as quickly. The demon blinked out of existence and his grace felt cleaner. He easily hefted up the body and deposited it beside the other two. If he could get cooperation, then perhaps it would be enough for Michael.

It took nearly two Earth weeks to finally get enough demons to cooperate (either under torture or not) to feel confident enough to report to Uriel that Jessica was not in Hell. Michael hadn't bothered with him anymore, no, he'd gotten orders through Raphael to report to Uriel now, rather than Michael who wanted nothing to do with the matter until it was done.

That had not gone well. Uriel hadn't read the report, it seemed. "Have you found her then?" Uriel had raged, his grace rising up like a tsunami over Castiel's. "Why are you reporting failure?"

"I apologize, Uriel," Castiel had said, hoping that this would not get him killed, not when he was so close to success, not when Heaven's glory was on the horizon. Not when it was getting more likely their Father would return. "I am going to scour the Earth."

"I want you out of my sight until she is found." Uriel had bellowed and Castiel left, immediately returning to Earth. He must find that soul.

Jessica Moore was not on Earth.

Castiel had scoured the Earth, every continent, every country, every place, every inch of the Earth. Jessica Moore was not there, in either body or soul. He'd spent months of Earth time in just the United States, followed by weeks scouring the rest of the planet several times over. There was nobody to find, nothing to indicate where she'd gone. No trace of Jessica on the Earth. He'd spent nearly two months looking for her on Earth, as even with his abilities it had taken time and he had left no room for error.

He was stuck. Castiel did not want to admit it, but he was out of ideas. Even an angel had limitations on their power and wherever she was Jessica Moore seemed to be outside the limitations of Castiel's power.

That, however, was not a valid excuse for failure.

It would not be tolerated.

But he had no idea where to go from there. Jessica Moore wasn't particularly devout. He was searching for her prayers of course. It was difficult to filter the prayers of billions of people flowing in, but he still tried. But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

It was almost as if her soul had never existed.

But, it had. And for some reason, it wasn't in Heaven, it wasn't in Hell and it wasn't on Earth.

Where could it be? Humans did not have space travel, not yet (though eventually they would). Angels were beyond time and existed at all times - past, present and future. And the future was far more difficult to approach than the past because it was constantly in flux, never set in stone. Especially with this apocalypse business - the future was changing constantly with no one but he and his fellow angels any wiser and even most of the angels didn't bother to notice. But Castiel did, so he knew that even now there were many possible futures, despite the angels' tendency to disregard any that didn't revolve around their success in the impending apocalypse. It was God's plan after all, no other future would matter after the next few, fleeting human years.

But Castiel would not see God's plan - his perfect plan to create paradise on Earth and cleanse the terrible things from it - if he didn't succeed here. Not to mention he would be a failure. And as a good soldier, that was the worst thing that he could be.

Castiel resolved again that he would find Jessica Moore's soul, if it was the last thing he did.

Dean wasn't dead.

Dean wasn't dead.

Sam was sitting in the dark in their tiny, dank motel room, watching the even rise and fall of his brother's chest. After everything that had happened, the demon, the electrocution, the reaper, the faith healer, Layla… It hadn't been a good week.

He wanted to say that if he'd known what was really happening when he took Dean there- that if he knew that someone would die because Dean lived, that they were purposefully manipulating fate and life and death that he wouldn't have done it. That he'd have found some other way to save Dean, that he wouldn't have done that.

But he couldn't. Sam could lie to himself- he'd been lying to himself that it didn't matter, that in the end, he'd done the right thing- that he'd have done the right thing from the start. But sitting in the dark, feeling the relief flood him as he watched his brother's chest- with a fully healed, fully functional heart- rise and fall, he knew that he wouldn't have.

Dean would have hated him- he might still hate him, just a little now, but Sam could live with it because Dean was alive. Sam had already gotten two people killed between Jess and the teacher - or was it really three? After all, wasn't it his fault his mom was dead too?

He wouldn't let Dean- the real hero of them- die. God, Dean had been electrocuted saving some kids from a demon and what had Sam done? He had gotten another man killed to save Dean's life against his will.

Sam was a monster.

What would Jess think?

That thought hit him like a train and the air seemed to vanish in the room.

He closed his eyes as his chest burned and the thought of Jess twisted his heart painfully. He thought of her less now, which somehow made it worse. It had only been seven months- seven damn months -and already this life, this life of death was robbing him of his memories of her. She would hate him now, what he'd done. Letting those people die, because he was selfish- because he let Dean stay in that basement and not him. She'd hate him for letting her die too.

And she'd hate him most of all for forgetting her. For letting this- the darkness in his life, in his very soul- erase her and replace it with something else. She deserved for him to at least avenge her, not spend his time taking down ghosts.

Jess would also hate his moping. She would hate everything he'd done since the night she died and she probably died hating him as it was.

Sam sucked in a shaky breath. But it didn't matter. It didn't. Jess was dead. Gone, beyond his reach, long gone just like his mom.

But he was here. And despite the fact that he wasn't worth half of what they were- of what Dean was- he would avenge them. He would take down whatever was responsible for their deaths if it killed him.

At least then maybe, maybe it would be atonement enough for God to forgive him.

Sam hadn't prayed since running into the faith healer and he hadn't prayed for forgiveness in years. He wouldn't start now. He would just pray that he could get his chance at atonement.