I woke up before Dean and left. I didn't like how unsettled things were between us and I wasn't exactly emotionally equipped to handle it. It wouldn't hit me until I crossed state lines how strange it was he didn't wake up. Either he let me leave or, more damning, he felt so safe and comfortable with me that he wasn't on alert.

Regardless, I had a favor to fulfill. Wasn't exactly the first or last person I wanted to see, but Castiel's "wife" was probably worried. I mean, who the fuck cared what she felt? It wasn't as if they'd been together for years and years and now he'd gone missing. Stupid goddamn angel and his stupid promises.

By the time I hit Colorado it was late afternoon and I had irritated myself into a bad mood. If Daphne made anymore comments about my language I was going to smack her. I parked and walked through the gate, bracing myself for this confrontation.

Except… The door was cracked open. When I got closer I could see bloody fingerprints on the knob.

There was no way this meant anything good. I unsheathed my sword, pushed the door in, and hesitantly asked, "Hello? Daphne?"

Smashed knickknacks on the floor. A cross torn from the wall. Sofa ripped to shreds. Kitchen with all the drawers open, the knives conspicuously missing, fridge left open to let the insides rot. A coffee mug half-filled incongruently sitting peacefully on the counter. Powder nearby… sulfur.

"Daphne?" I cried as I ran room to room. "Daphne, say something!" God, I didn't like the woman, I barely knew her, but she seemed good. She'd pulled a naked, amnesiac man out of the water and cared for him. Bad people didn't do that.

I stopped short at the doorway to the main bedroom. The mystery of the stolen kitchen knives was solved; they were pinning her palms to the headboard. Blood was everywhere. They'd torn her clothes from her and beat her, sliced her, and I wouldn't have put it past the demons to do more. Fuck, the smell. Everything a human excretes along with the faint stench of rot…

I reached forward to pull the knives from her hands. At least I could put her into some sort of peaceful repose.

She coughed and I nearly shit myself.

"Daphne?" I said, still panicked over her sudden movement. I continued ripping out the blades. "Daphne, it's going to be okay. I'm going to get help."

A feeble lift of her hand. She put it on top of mine. "No. Stay."

"You're alive, I can still call 9–1–1—"

"No." A shudder wracked her frame. "Emmanuel?"

"He's…" Well, fuck if I knew. "He'll be okay. He asked me to come see you."

"Good. Good. They said… said it was because of him. Because he was… he was…"

"An angel," I whispered. "He was."

"The demons, they just beat me and… and… and did…" The woman sobbed. "But the others…"

"Others?" What the hell? "What others?"

"They said they were angels, too. But they weren't, right?" Daphne's eyes turned wide, desperation fighting through what must have been agony. She finally started to cry. "They couldn't be."

God fucking damnit. Of course they were, but I refused to be the one to break a dying woman's faith. "No. Demons lie."

"Good. I knew it. Good." Castiel's wife turned her head.

"Daphne?" Shit. "Daphne?" I shook her shoulder. Her head lolled back towards me, eyes blank and staring. She was dead.

I called 9–1–1 anyways and waited. Unlike Sam and Dean, I didn't have a criminal record, and I highly doubted the authorities would look at me too hard after they saw the mess in the house. No way that was done by a single person, and by the state of the body there was at least one man involved. They asked me to go down to the station and I willingly gave them fingerprints and DNA to exclude me from their investigation.

I felt bad enough about everything to actually endure questioning.

No, I didn't know her very well. I was a long time friend of her husband's. Her husband had checked into a mental hospital; stress. He wasn't doing good at all and finding out about his wife might do a lot of harm. I would take care of it. He's the one who asked me to check on her. No, I had nothing to do with it. No, I had never had a relationship with her husband. No, I didn't know who did this. Yes, that's me a million years ago. No, they never caught who did that to me. Why the fuck would you care? Look, I just found my friend's wife beaten, raped, and murdered. Did you see what that other fucker did to me? Excuse me if I'm not exactly feeling "civil" right now. No, I won't leave town.

Of course I did, and as soon as I hit Utah I changed plates. No sense risking my autonomy. Wonder if they'd find any traces of Dean in there.

Did I feel guilty? Maybe, but only in the sense that I should have been more considerate. Daphne had unwittingly signed her own death warrant by taking in a crippled angel, and there was nothing any of us could have done. Even if we had stayed to protect her, who knows? Even the Winchesters balk at handling multiple demons at once, not to mention the angels.

I shoved Daphne's empty eyes back where I stored memories of Louie Lee/Zachariah/Soulless Sam. Instead of brooding, I kept busy as I considered what to do about my so-called love life. Werewolf here, vamp nest there, haunting over there. Sure, I was thinking of them, but I was also avoiding a final decision. For all I knew, Cass was going to spend the rest of his eternity conversing with Lucifer and Dean was off banging some syphilis infused waitress in Buttfuck, Nebraska. No, more likely Dean was somewhere staring at a computer screen or talking to Frank Devereaux about—

"Hello."

I admit it. I shrieked like a little girl and fell over. I was at least three miles up into Bridger-Teton National Forest hot on the trail of a wendigo and hadn't seen another person for half a day. Someone abruptly showing up to say howdy was definitely on the bottom of the expected list. That someone being Castiel was even farther down. "What the fuck?"

He didn't look right. For one, he was still wearing his in-patient clothing under the usual coat. For another, there was some kind of stupid smile on his face. "Would you like to?" he asked, his head cocked over.

"Would I like to what?"

"Copulate."

I couldn't respond for a moment. "No thank you."

Leaves started rustling from the left. I got myself up into a crouch, my bow knocked (explosive tips are fun). Damn, the fucking wendigo had been close. Castiel looked slowly in that direction… which is when the thing leapt out, claws first. Cass didn't even blink; just stepped to one side and sang, "Close your eyes!" like he was about to give me a present.

I threw my arm up and a bright light shone behind my lids. When it faded I opened them again and found Castiel about two inches from my face. There was a strange glassiness to his expression that I'd never seen before. "Hi," I said warily.

"Hello."

I stared at him. He was examining me up and down. "What?"

"I enjoy the placement of your features. Your breast to hip ratio is also optimum."

"Thanks?"

Cass leaned in and gave me a soft kiss on the nose. He used the brief contact to transport us back to his room at the mental hospital. Unbalanced, I fell backwards onto the linoleum, my bow clattering on the floor. "What the hell, Cass?"

Hurried footsteps from outside produced Meg. She actually looked legitimate, with scrubs and an ID card and everything. "Oh. You."

Still jealous. "Eat a dick." I used the side of the bed to get to my feet. "Why am I here?"

"Well," Castiel said casually, "I thought it best to bring you here because Meg called Sam and Dean and they'll be here and it's best we are all together. I think something momentous will occur very soon."

I lifted my eyebrows at Meg. "Is he okay?"

She shrugged. "He's alive. Other than that, I have no idea."

Cass was looking back and forth between Meg and I. "What?" the demon asked.

"I was just comparing your features. I believe I find Evangeline's more aesthetically pleasing." Meg bristled. "Then again, I can see your true form so that might be skewing my viewpoint. Did you know Evangeline has a tiny mole on the side of her left nippl—"

"Cass!" I interjected.

He turned towards me. "Do you want to go play a board game?"

"I… what?"

Meg gave a long-suffering sigh. "Just go. If you don't, he'll keep asking and asking and asking…" Her voice faded as she left the room.

I shrugged at Castiel. He gave me a beatifically empty grin and we were abruptly in another room. "Do you have a favorite?" he asked.

"Uh. Checkers. Sure."

Beaming, the angels sat us down at a table. There was a checkerboard already there. It was set up before I could blink. "Black goes first."

We… We played checkers. Three games of it. I actually won two because Castiel was too busy expounding on the virtuosity of the bees in the garden to notice I'd had him trapped. At the end of the third, Cass merely said, "Oh, they're here," and we were back in his room (I was going to throw up on him if he kept doing this). He stood and turned towards the window while I sat on the bed and faced the door.

From down the hall I heard Sam and Dean. Meg calmed down the orderly who thought they were unwanted intruders before leading them into the room. Dean's eyebrows lifted at the sight of me. "Eva?"

I threw my hands up. "Don't ask."

Brightened by my appearance and the apparent lucidity of his angelic friend (boy, was he in for a shock), Dean greeted Castiel. Sam followed immediately afterwards. "Look at you," Dean said happily, "walkin' and talkin'. That's great, right?"

Cass walked over to the brothers and extended his index finger. Here we go. "Pull my finger."

Baffled, Dean could only ask, "What?"

"My finger. Pull it."

I gave Dean's bewildered look a shrug. He hesitated at the request. It wasn't as if Cass had ever pulled childish pranks before. A whoopie cushion had apparently completely flabbergasted the angel at one point (it was one of Dean's favorite things to snicker at in the dark). I was honestly expecting the angel to follow through like any normal immature human male would. I wasn't expecting him to blow out all the lightbulbs.

In the dark, Castiel gave an amused chuckle. I put my face in my hands. "For fuck's sake."

"What the hell is going on?" Dean demanded.

"Did you know, as an angel, I can control whether or not to impregnate a human woman?"

Dean looked back and forth from Castiel to me. I gave another shrug. Sounded convenient at least. Cass looked from Dean to me before remarking, "Oh," the angel said to the hunter, "you love her too. Isn't she remarkable? I mean, her facial features are appealingly symmetrical. As are yours, of course, if we want to be equitable between the sexes."

"So, you're saying you know who you are," Sam inserted as Dean was standing there nonplussed. "And what you are."

They went back and forth a bit, Cass going off again on the damn bees and flirting with his "caretaker." I got up and left the room to pace in the hallway. I mean, what was I supposed to do with this? Okay, so Cass wasn't in his right mind, but by Dean's tone he wasn't doing exactly fantastic either. I still hadn't made a decision either way and having them both in the vicinity was both confusing and infuriating.

Something clunked and shattered onto the floor. I hurried back in to find Sam and Dean staring down at a hunk of stone broken into three pieces. "The hell?"

"Castiel doesn't like conflict," Meg purred. She turned to Dean. "He's down in the day room now. I guarantee it."

Frustrated, Dean rolled his eyes. "I'll go handle Cass. Sam, will you please pick up…" He gestured at the rocks, "the Word of God?"

"Yeah," Sam said.

Dean marched for the door. He paused when he got to me. "We'll talk."

"Okay," I replied softly. I stepped into the room and closed the door. "What the hell is the Word of God?"

"Yeah, Sam," Meg said, her tone caustic. "What sort of shit are you two caught up in now?"

Sam was silent as he carefully picked up the stones and placed them in a bag. Despite the demon's attitude, I had the same question. "Well?" I snapped.

Sam glanced from me to Meg. He obviously didn't want to let the demon know what was going on. I would later find out the long history between them, but at the time it just seemed like regular old hellspawn hate.

Meg wasn't stupid; she caught on to Sam's meaning right away. "Okay, fine. I'll hit the road, then. Let me just go get my angel."

"What?" I demanded as she brushed past me. "'Your' angel?"

She wasn't stopping, so I followed. When I stepped in front of her she folded her arms and gave me a nasty smirk. "He calls me his 'thorny painful beauty'. I wonder what names he calls you after you abandoned him here?"

At least I had a comeback for this. "Yeah? He also told me I was more 'aesthetically pleasing'."

"Oh, give me a break. He's nine kinds of crazy right now."

"Doesn't erase the fact that I've fucked him and you haven't. Or did you slide your way into his pants while he lay there comatose?"

Meg's eyes slid to black. I'm not sure if we would have been viciously battling with knives out and blood flying or rolling around on the floor pulling each other's hair, but Sam's big body got in the way. I stumbled back a few steps as he demanded of the demon, "What are you going to do with a broken angel?"

Her eyes went back to brown. "I'll take power where I can get it. I've got myself to look out for."

Before any of us could get any further, there was a clank from Castiel's room. It almost sounded as if someone was opening the window, but who would be letting in air for a missing patient in the middle of the night?

We hurried back. To our collective dismay we discovered Sam's bag, and the Word of God it contained, was gone.

I rushed for the window. "There!" I said, pointing at a figure sprinting madly away. Whoever it was, they were clutching the bag to their chest and rounding the building. Weird. Seemed a little too… awkward for a supernatural thief. A demon or an angel would have just poofed. So what the hell…?

Sam ran down the hallway and Meg vanished. I stayed just in case Dean or Castiel returned. About ten minutes later Sam and Meg returned. They were towing with them a slender Asian kid, the former with his hand on the boy's collar and the latter there in case anything went awry. Out of all the things they could have brought back, I would have never guessed this. "Uh… what?"

Sam plunked the kid down on Castiel's bed. "Okay, now explain."

Frightened, the boy stammered, "I-I don't know! This is for me. I'm supposed to keep it."

"But you don't know what it is?" The kid shook his head. "Open it."

As the bag was unzipped, I asked, "Does it have a name?"

"The meatsack is Kevin," Meg replied.

Kevin paused with one piece of the broken Word in each hand. "Meatsack?" He glanced around, baffled. When none of us offered an explanation he fitted the rocks together. In a flash of bright white light, the damage Castiel had wrought was fixed. As we watched, Kevin brought out the last piece and did the same. The Word of God now looked like I suppose it should; an ancient square piece of stone with incomprehensible characters etched on one side.

With shaking hands the boy gazed at the Word. "It's writing."

"Yeah."

"Writing?" I repeated.

"Cass said it's dictation from an angel named Metatron."

What's the expression? Hindsight and all? Nowadays the whisper of Metatron's name makes all of us want to punch a wall. He would do so much harm in the coming days it's a wonder he's still alive. It's a toss-up, honestly, about whether Lucifer or Metatron holds the title for the World's Greatest Asshole. Current circumstances have Lucifer in the lead, but this wasn't then.

Kevin squinted at the Word. "What's… Leviathan?"

Sam straightened, his eyes wide. "You can read it? What does it say?"

"Sort of. It's like looking through someone else's glasses. About how Leviathan came to be… Like in jail because they're so… so…" The boy swallowed and looked at Sam and I in turn. "They're real, aren't they?"

"Yeah, Kevin, they are."

"Anything in there about how to kill the sons of bitches?" I inserted.

Sam nodded. "That's been kind of a problem."

Kevin peered at the rock again. It seemed as if it hurt him just to look at it. "I don't know. It's not like reading reading it. It's hard to focus on it for too long, like looking through somebody else's glasses."

The lights began to flicker. If it hadn't been for Meg's eyes suddenly blinking to black I would have chocked it up to faulty wiring. "Something's up," she said nervously.

Unfortunately, the proclamation had Kevin reflexively looking at her. He gave a horrified gasp just as two angels appeared, one female and one male. "Demon," the female snarled. A flick of her hand had Meg smashing backwards into a wall.

Distaste was written all over the angel's face. "A demon whore and a Winchester. Again. And you." If it was possible, the female looked even more disgusted to see me there. "Defiler."

"Jealous?" I threw at her.

"You lay with Castiel and sullied him. He has become irredeemable and impure! I will ensure your soul is condemned to Hell."

She stepped forward and I stepped towards Kevin, afraid that whatever the bitch had planned would cause him to be collateral damage. Incensed, the female cried, "Step away from the Prophet!"

"Who, me?" Kevin squeaked.

In a tone somewhere between demanding and reverent, the angel announced, "Sole keeper of the word on Earth, we are here to take you."

"Oh, hell no," I snarled. Whatever the angels had in mind I wanted this boy to have no part in it. The male lunged for Meg, who withdrew a purloined angel blade and sliced his palm open. I dropped a knife from my sleeve and swung at his partner. A futile gesture, but maybe it would give the kid a chance to run.

Whatever might have happened, it all came to an abrupt halt when wings stirred the air. Castiel still had that stupid, vacant look in place. "Hi. Inias. Hester."

"You're alive," Inias (the male) said, awestruck.

Hester was far less impressed. "It is because of you Raphael smote thousands in Heaven. You forced our brothers and sisters to aid a demon in subduing an archangel, then you were gone." Angrily, the angel shouted, "What the hell was that?"

Cass was contrite. "Rude, for one thing."

"Where have you been?" Inias asked, more confused than anything else.

Unfortunately, Castiel didn't give them the courtesy of a standard answer. A long, rambling speech followed in which Cass offered "perspective" and offered to repeat the trick he'd pulled on Dean (finger extended and everything).

Hester was decidedly furious. "You're insane."

"Hey." Everyone turned towards the doorway. Dean stood there, one hand prepped. "Heads up, sunshine." He slapped his hand on the wall and all three angels vanished in a wash of white light and screams.

I pulled my arms down. "You blew away Cass, too, dumbass!"

"You really think he's of any use right now? Gives us a couple of hours at least." Fair.

Sam pointed at the angel blade in Meg's hand, aghast. "Where did you get that?"

She shrugged. "Well, a lot of angels died this year—"

"WHAT'S HAPPENING?" screamed Kevin. "WHAT. IS. HAPPENING?"

Dean blinked at the boy. "What's that?"

"It's, uh, Kevin," Sam replied. He gave his brother a grimace and repeated what Kevin had told him after being clotheslined by Meg. "He's… in advanced placement."

We ended up taking Kevin back to the cabin in Montana. It took a long car trip which involved a lot of silence, Cass calling from a dog track in Perth before flying into the back seat, and a lot of nasty comments from Meg. The last was mostly because she was stuck in the front seat between Sam and Dean, and upon Castiel's arrival he (after booping Kevin on the nose) made it his business to examine every little feature on my face. When I asked what the hell he was doing, he said he was admiring his Father's art, setting off Meg's attempt to be "charming". It mostly consisted of innuendo and repeated attempts to put her hand up Sam's leg. She didn't stop until Cass announced he was going back to check on the dogs and unceremoniously left.

Kevin, it turned out, was listed as kidnapped by his loved ones, which couldn't bode well for anyone. We needed him to read the Word, and he reluctantly agreed. After setting him up in the basement (the same one where Bobby had beheaded a Leviathan), Sam left to get a meal, Meg disappeared to who the hell knows (and who the hell cares), and Dean and I finally got to sit down to talk.

We sat on opposite sides of the table, beers in hand. "So," he said.

"So."

"You been okay?"

"Yeah."

Dean bumped the bottom of his bottle on the table a few times. "I got no idea how to even start this conversation."

"You think I do?"

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm not sayin' this to sway you one way or the other, but Cass ain't exactly in the right frame of mind to… I dunno, care for anyone else. And I want to."

"Want to what?"

"Care for you."

The statement was sweet, but it rang wrong somehow. I couldn't describe it. But with him there and actually in my presence I couldn't help letting it slide. "I want you to. And I want to do the same. But—"

"Can we skip the 'buts'?" I blinked as he stood up and walked around the table. He pulled me to my feet. "Screw the buts. Let's just take what time we have and use it."

It was easier to argue with myself about our relationship when Dean wasn't an arm's length away. Far harder when he set those determined green eyes on you, those orbs full of so much everything it was hard to look away. It was almost as if he was compelling me to answer, "Okay."

That smirk of his. So hard to resist, and so… complicated. In it was all the little things that made up Dean Winchester; his cockiness and insecurity, his love and his passion, his desire and his fury. I couldn't help loving him… and yet I couldn't help thinking he wasn't enough. My relationships, such as they were, had all been complicated, whether it was the dynamics between myself and my remaining family or the companionship of those men who professed to love me. In my heart I wanted simplicity, and the only male who had ever given me love without asking for anything in return wasn't human or, currently, sane.

I let Dean lower his lips to mine. I inhaled all of him as we kissed, all of the unique mixture of man and leather and gun oil that made up Dean. Yes, I could forget the buts. In his arms I could forget the world.

Except there was unexpected company to our reunion. Said company was standing three feet away and smiling widely. "Hello."

I backed up quickly, afraid of how Castiel might react. Dean merely waited. "What?"

To both of our surprise, the stupidly happy grin didn't leave the angel's face. "I'm glad Evangeline has you. It makes me happy to see her happy." Dean and I found ourselves being embraced and hugged tightly on opposite sides of the angel. "Oh, I love you guys!"

I was nonplussed and stood there stiffly. Dean, however, awkwardly patted his friend on the back before gently pushing him away. "All right, buddy, c'mon, not this again."

"Did you know the queen honeybee will mate with up to thirty males in one sitting and then never mate again?"

"Uh…"

Ignorantly blissful, Castiel moved to the mantle and picked up a dusty picture frame. He turned it this way and that, watching as the light bounced off of the glass, and seemed to have put us out of his mind. Unable to cope with his friend's behavior, Dean threw up his hands and headed back downstairs to check on Kevin.

I watched Cass play his little game. "You are staring," he said. "I don't mind, only humans tend to think it's rude."

I decided to get right to the point. "You're just… happy for me."

"Of course."

"Nothing else? Angry? Jealous? Upset?"

The angel looked up at me. "Why would I be?"

Of course I wouldn't be getting any sort of straight answer. "It's what a normal guy would feel if he saw his ex kissing someone else."

"But I am not normal." The picture frame went back in its place. "And I love you. I want you to be happy." He beamed. "You are happy, correct?"

No, I was confused. Beleaguered. At the very least I was conflicted. But since I had no idea how stable Castiel's mind really was, I said, "Yes."

The smile shrank minutely. He picked up another knickknack; it looked like a broken pipe. "Good. That's good. I don't want conflict. If you are happy, then there would be no need."

Hold on a second. I walked over and took the thing out of Castiel's hands. "What do you mean?" I asked. I tried to be gentle, but I bet I sounded irritated.

My heart sped up as his hand reached out and took a lock of my hair. He toyed with it between his fingers. "There's so much beauty in the world and I am transfixed by strands of black keratin. Isn't that grand?"

The angel was quiet as asked it, his expression suffused mostly with the madness that was consuming him. But there, under it all, there was something else. I'm not claiming any sort of deep understanding of anyone's psyche. It was a feeling, something that pulled my heart the wrong way. "What about your happiness?"

"Mine doesn't matter," he whispered, still rubbing my hair between his thumb and index finger.

"Yes, it does."

Cass froze and our gazes locked. I thought for a brief moment that I saw lucidity, but it was quickly quashed when Sam entered from outside with spray paint in hand. He immediately knelt down at the doorway and began to paint a devil's trap. "The hell?" I asked.

"Meg."

"And?"

"She's been gone too long. It's just in case."

I walked over as Sam was finishing the mandala. "What's your guys' deal with her anyways?"

Sam grimaced as he stood. "Meg was the first demon I ever met. She was Azazel's right-hand man and she was a Lucifer-loyalist. It's because of her that Ellen and Jo are dead."

My eyes widened. Jo hadn't been much more than an acquaintance, but her mother had provided some much needed maternal warmth when I needed it most. "Then why the hell aren't we just straight up killing the bitch?"

"Because, if you haven't noticed, we're kind of short on allies lately. It's either we lose Meg or it's us three and an angel with his screws loose."

Maybe Castiel could crazy up some sense into this overgrown idiot. I turned towards the fireplace. "Cass—oh, what?" He was gone. I threw up my hands. "I'm going for a walk."

Sam put the can of paint on the closest surface; a worn wooden table. From inside his jacket he pulled out the demon-killing knife. "Just in case."

I snatched it out of his hand and tromped out the door. Honestly, I was more worried about cranky angels than an unscrupulous demon, but a blade is a blade. On the way out I nearly fell over my own saddlebags. I assumed Castiel had realized I had left my possessions sitting in the woods of Wyoming and had retrieved them. Well, at least I now had my sword.

Sword sheathe in one hand and knife in the other, I patrolled the area around the cabin until dark. It gave me the space and time to not think about all the fucked up things currently crowding my existence. You know, the monsters, the family drama, the three men in my life (a formerly sociopathic ex, an emotionally heavy current, and a somewhat insane resurrected celestial). Are there people out there with uneventful lives? Must be nice. Or boring. Or nice and boring.

I went back inside right before Meg returned. She halted at the edge of the trap and was granted a brief reprieve to explain her long absence. Apparently she'd been taking out two of Crowley's cronies. They'd spotted us at the last pit stop. She insisted her current mission was to take down the King of Hell, a move she was unable to accomplish on her own. "Crowley ain't the problem this year," Dean refuted.

"When are you gonna get it?" Meg snapped back. "Crowley's always the problem. He's just waiting for the right moment to strike. I know what I'm supposed to do, and it isn't screw with Sam, Dean, their girlfriend or lose the only angel who'd go to bat for me."

"'Their'?" I asked, outraged, as Sam used his foot to scrape a bit of the paint away.

"Would you prefer it if I called you the cabin bicycle?"

"Oh, that's it. I'm shoving that blade up your ass."

"Harmony and communication," a delighted Castiel remarked as Meg smirked and Dean held me back. "It was there for a brief wonderful moment. Now our only problem is Hester."

The arrogance on Meg's face disappeared in an instant. "What?"

"Well, here, we're hidden from the Garrison, but when you killed a demon, you put out a pretty clear beacon."

The demon turned towards the Winchesters. "We need better angel-proofing. Now."

She turned as the door blew outwards. Hester marched in, Inias and another flunky on her heels. The latter two looked around uneasily while the former furiously asked of a bewildered Castiel, "You took the prophet from us?"

He backed up a step. "I'm sorry?"

"You have fallen in every way imaginable."

"Hey!" I snapped as I stepped into her personal space. "Uh oh," Meg murmured as I demanded, "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"I am an angel of the Lord," Hester hissed. "Whereas you must be a direct descendant of Jezebel herself!"

I was stressed, confused, and just so frustrated. Punching the woman in the face seemed like a grand idea. She barely staggered to one side before coming back with a backhand that had me sailing across the cabin. I crashed into the wall, thumping my head on a log, before falling to the floor.

There was some sort of scuffle before Dean shouted, "Hey! Look, we just want time. We'll take care of your Prophet."

"Why should we give you anything," Hester snarled, "After everything you have taken from us? The very touch of you corrupts." Her voice rose nearly to a shriek. "When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was LOST! For that, you're going to pay."

My hearing was going on and out as my brain tried to decide whether it should shut down. Cass said something, pleading, and was immediately shouted at in rebuttal. I heard the word "whore" and assumed Hester was talking about me. Flesh smacked against flesh several times before Dean let out an angry roar. It was hard to tell with the ringing in my ears, but it sounded as if the man had tackled the bitch to the floor and was now engaged in some kind of brawl.

I tried and failed to get up. Might as well lay here until whatever it was had finished. Except hands were gathering me up to their breast. I couldn't tell who it was. Blood pattered onto my cheek and I looked up. Eyes of blue smiled down at me. "I will protect you."

He was battered, lip split, his eyes glazed from more than just madness, but I couldn't help but think of the first time he'd said those words to me, and the unfathomable, unprompted sense of security I had found down in Bobby's cold basement. I could still feel it now as I lay in his arms, the feeling that everything was going to be all right if only this angel would stay by my side.

I swallowed a sudden urge to cry, suddenly wrought with misery at what had been lost between us. Castiel's brain might be scrambled, but he still felt, sounded, smelled the same. I reached up to touch his cheek. My fingertip barely brushed his skin as a bright light burst from the other side of the room. He smiled as Hester let out a choked, angry shriek.

Everything fell silent. "What?" Meg was saying. "Someone had to."

"Eva," Dean said as he hurried over. "You okay?"

I moved slightly and discovered the throbbing lump on the side of my head. "Ow."

Castiel leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. "All better," he commented. By his expression it was the best thing he'd ever done.

The pain receded. "Thanks?"

Dean held out a hand and I took it. Once I was standing, I took in the scene. Hester was lying face first on the floor, a bloody hole in her back and wings burned onto the wood. A self-satisfied Meg was staring down at her work. Inias and the other angel were against the wall, their hands up. "We were following orders," he said quietly.

"I get that," Dean replied. "Now what?"

Unbeknownst to any of us, Kevin had crawled up towards the ruckus and was now peering up through the basement hatch. "I'm almost done," he peeped.

"Very well," Inias said. "We shall wait. After, we can bring the Prophet to his home and watch over him there."

"Thanks," Dean replied grudgingly.

Inias spoke to Castiel as Kevin finished his task. They were old garrison buddies, having shared foxholes and such during one of the innumerable wars between Heaven and Hell. Though Castiel's responses were disjointed and often wavered into unrelated topics (often coming back to the damn bees), Inias seemed unbothered, reflecting mostly pity than anything else. The other angels was silent the entire time, more content to stand guard at the broken door than engage in niceties.

It took Kevin an hour more to read the rock. He handed over a standard spiral bound paper notebook with a sign of relief. I suppose he'd thought that he was done and all of this supernatural nonsense could be chalked up to one long fever dream.

Sorry, kiddo. Not how this world works. Inias and his brother took Kevin home where, it turned out, the Leviathan had been waiting. The angels died and the Prophet was abducted. We wouldn't find this out for several days.

The black goop, it turned out, couldn't die unless certain requirements were met. "Leviathan cannot be slain but by a bone of a righteous mortal washed in the three bloods of the fallen," Sam read after Kevin and the angels had taken off. Nervously, he added, "It says we need to start with the blood of a fallen angel."

Sam and Dean looked at Castiel. He gave them a fondly exasperated smile. "Well, you know me," he said as he produced a filled vial from nowhere. "I'm always happy to bleed for the Winchesters."

"What're you gonna do, Cass?" Dean wondered.

"I don't know." Bright with ignorance, he said, "Isn't that amazing?"

His hand fell on my shoulder, and between one moment and the next we were back in that forest clearing he'd picked me up from what felt like days and days ago. "Damn it, Cass!"

My phone almost immediately began ringing. "Yeah?"

"Where the hell did you go?" Dean demanded.

"Back to Wyoming apparently." I sighed and looked for Cass. I found him busy staring into the bark of a nearby aspen. "I guess to get my bike."

"Okay. You comin' back?"

"Soon as I can."

"All right. Be careful."

"You too."

I hung up. When I turned towards Cass (fully expecting him not to be there) I was surprised to find him holding a chipmunk in his palm. They were having some kind of silent conversation, I suppose. I ruined it by commenting, "Well, haven't you become a Disney princess."

The rodent chittered angrily at me before hopping off of the angel's hand and dashing away. Castiel merely conveyed a message. "She said we should go southwest. It will take us back to your vehicle."

"I'm sorry, 'we'?"

"Yes."

Rather than question the sudden acquisition of a chaperone I started walking. We went mostly in silence, but it wasn't comfortable. For one, Cass kept drifting off to go check out this leaf or that bud or have a short chat with a bird. It only took a moment to redirect him, but it was irritating all the same. For another, I kept catching him staring at me. Not in the way a follower would watch a leader, in a way that made it clear he was considering something.

It made me nervous. The last time I'd seen this expression he'd conked me out and carted me away "for my safety." Or maybe it was just me wrongly interpreting his madness. I don't know.

My bike was no worse for wear. It hadn't been more than two days, and other than a light coating of dead leaves and dust it was unharmed. I'd had the enchantment to ward off potential thieves redone as part of my weeks of postponing decisions. I patted away the detritus as Cass stood by silently. I almost forgot he was there. When he finally spoke, it was to ask, "Do you love him?"

"Yes," I said softly. I turned around to face him. "You were dead, Cass. I never thought I'd see you again. It took me a long time to move on, but I had to."

"I see." Without another word the angel stepped into my personal space. My breath caught as he leaned in. I didn't know whether to be horrified or excited at the possibility of being kissed.

Turns out I worried for nothing. His finger lightly tapped the tip of my nose. "Boop." And he was gone.

Well. That was that. I guess it was time to figure out how to murder the most famous up and coming CEO in the country. It's too bad more people didn't know he was a people-eating pile of black goo.

Acknowledgement : Some lines of dialogue are taken directly from the episode "Reading is Fundamental" (SPN 7.21).

Author's Note : Daphne sort of arrives and then is never spoken of again. Like the forbidden wife or whatever. I just gave her a horrible ending for reasons.

Comments/Critiques/Whatevs are always welcome!