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by kitiycat2266

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Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character Death

Categories:

OtherM/MMulti

Fandoms:

SupernaturalGood Omens (TV)Good Omens - Neil Gaiman Terry PratchettSupernatural (TV 2005)

Relationships:

Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)Castiel/Dean Winchester

Characters:

Aziraphale (Good Omens)Crowley (Good Omens)Castiel (Supernatural)Gabriel (Supernatural)Dean WinchesterSam WinchesterGabriel (Good Omens)Michael (Good Omens)Lucifer (Supernatural)Sandolphin (Good Omens)Zachariah (Supernatural)Death (Good Omens)Death (Supernatural)Bobby SingerAnathema DeviceNewton PulsiferThe Them (Good Omens)Madame Tracy (Good Omens)Sergeant Shadwell (Good Omens)Christian Campbell (Supernatural: Exile on Main Street)Nick (Supernatural)Raphael (Supernatural)Chuck ShurleySamandriel (Supernatural)Ishim (Supernatural)Balthazar (Supernatural)Beelzebub (Good Omens)Garth Fitzgerald IVReference to Past Benny Lafitte/Andrea Kormos

Additional Tags:

Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens)Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens)Castiel is Crowley/Aziraphale's sonGood Omens Gabriel a fakeChuck's not GodPost-Caanon(Good Omens)Season 5 (Supernatural)Episode: s05e08 Changing ChannelsCastiel fell in love with Dean in HellPurGAYtory The Inherent Homoeroticism of the Purgatory Arc (Supernatural)Past Andrea Kormos/Benny LafitteArchangel Castiel (Supernatural)

Language:

English

Series:

Previous Work Part 3 of Supernatural and Good Omens Crossovers, Part 1 of Ineffable Family Next Work

Stats:

Published:2021-11-14Completed:2022-09-07Words:62060Chapters:51/51Comments:446Kudos:697Bookmarks:95Hits:16973

Castiel

Taxi_Cab_To_Slowtown

Summary:

"I was thinking, Castiel," he said.

Crowley looked down at the baby in her arms. She smiled, the smile was gentle, open, not something that was normal for the demon's face.

"Castiel," she whispered. "I like that."

Castiel reached up to touch his mother's face.

Gabriel (SPN) hasn't seen Raphael since he ran away from heaven. He wonders where his brother's been. Adding to that, the angel who the Winchester brother's have befriended has an aura very similar to his brother's, and, Gabriel has never seen him before. Missing files and a marriage certificate for an angel and a demon points Gabriel toward the Principality Aziraphale for answers.

Meanwhile, Dean, Sam, and Castiel are trying to stop the second Apoccolypse by preventing Lucifer and Michael from using them as puppets in their great fight.

Aziraphale and Crowley might have to help stop Armageddon, again, after twenty years of happiness (mostly) to be able to save their son and the man he loves.

Notes:

I want to note this before, although the Good Omens universe and the Supernatural universe share a lot of lore, some of their lore directly contradicts each other. For instance, in the Good Omens universe angels don't believe that they can possess humans like demons can, until Aziraphale proves otherwise, while in Supernatural the only way angels can have a body is to get one from a human. For this, I'm sort of going to ignore the Supernatural rules for getting bodies and run with the different Corporations like is true for Good Omens. Also, for this story, since I'm running with the Crowley-is-Raphael headcanon, all the lore about Raphael that exists in either fandom is going to be totally ignored. Lastly, both versions of Gabriel will exist, but one is an imposter. I hope that since this is clearly an AU that it won't upset anyone that I'm making these changes. Also, I've only seen the first three seasons of Supernatural so I'm leaning heavily on the Wiki page for some of this stuff. I hope you enjoy!

I've seen all of the seasons that I'll be referencing now!

https/pin.it/3P5F3bU

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter Text

Jerusalem, 33 AD

Crowley woke up under a heap of skins, cuddled close to something that was giving off heat. She opened her eyes blurrily. Her head was on a shoulder, curley white-blond hair was tickling her nose. It took her a second before she remembered.

She sat up, gasping. She snapped her fingers upwards and miracled clothing onto herself. She was such a stupid, stupid demon! How could she have let things go that far . She'd only wanted to make Aziraphale feel better after what had happened. They might have gotten a little too drunk, lost their minds. Aziraphale definitely had, otherwise he wouldn't have done that with a demon.

She untangled herself from the angel and stood up. She quietly snuck out of the room. Her heart was pounding. She didn't want to be there when the angel woke up and realized what he had allowed to happen. What she had allowed to happen, what she hadn't stopped when she could have, should have, for Aziraphale's sake. His reaction would, undoubtedly, break her heart. She might be in love with him, but she knew the angel couldn't share her feelings.

She left the room, quietly walking down the inn stairs. She paid for the room on her way out and left, pulling her scarf tighter around her face. At least if her bosses ever found out about this they would assume she'd been trying to temp the angel to lust, trying to make him fall.

She left Jerusalem and walked toward the desert so she could get as far away from Aziraphale as was possible. Once she was out of human eyesight she pulled her wings into the earthly dimension and unfurled them. She flew into the desert and collapsed in the middle of the hot sand.

She began to cry.

Aziraphale woke up alone. One of these things should have been odd, the waking up, the other should not have, though it felt like it was. He rolled over and noticed a Craw--no Crowley now--shaped indent in the bed. That's when it came back to him. His cheeks turned red as he remembered what had happened.

He'd been distraught after the crucifixion so Crowley, who seemed almost as upset as him, had offered to buy them drinks, which Aziraphale had agreed to. At first they'd just been drinking and talking about Yeshua and their interactions with him. It seemed that Crowley actually knew the Messiah pretty well.

Eventually they had been so wasted that Crowley had suggested they get some wine to go and get a room where they could talk without people watching. Azirphale had agreed. They'd been leaning against the bed, drinking out of the same wine skin, still talking about Yeshua, when Azirphale had leaned over and kissed the demon. Instead of pulling away she had deepened the kiss, and before the angel had known it they were on the bed, and then…

And now he was here, awake in the bed, with no Crowley in sight.

Where did she go? He wondered.

The angel climbed out of bed and put on some robes before heading downstairs where he asked the inn owner if he'd seen a red-head woman in black that morning. The inn owner had, he said she'd left pretty early. Aziraphale thanked him for his help then left.

He knew why she would leave. She was ashamed. Ashamed she'd let things go so far. Azirapahale felt ashamed too, if she had wanted to stop, they could have.

He sighed and began walking down the street, his heart heavy. He didn't know if he'd ever see the demon again.

Demons didn't get sick, not like humans. Crowley of all creatures should know this, she was, after all, the ex Archangel of healing. Yet, here she was heaving her insides out every morning with no explanation. She hadn't been feeling well for so long she'd hadn't been able to do her job. The sickness had started happening a few weeks after what she referred to in her mind as the incident and had been going on for nearly two months. Also, there was something very wrong with her corporation, her waist had slowly begun to grow in size since around the same time the sickness had started.

Although she'd been avoiding the angel since the incident, she was sure that Aziraphale could help her. He was the only supernatural entity that she could trust with something like this, so she'd gone looking for him.

Aziraphale had been tasked with helping the followers of Yeshua spread his teaching throughout the whole world. It was, quite frankly, one of the best assignments he'd ever been given. The only problem was the Pharisee Saul who wouldn't give them a break. He had to find a way to stop him, he thought it would be fun if he could convert him, but that hadn't been working, he'd almost gotten discorperated twice already.

He was mulling over this in his room when one of the little boys who always was running errands showed up.

"Aziraphale," the kid said. "There's a woman here to see you."

Aziraphale wondered who it could be. Uriel? Michael? He couldn't possibly be given a new assignment already! He was enjoying this one so much!

He sighed. "Send her up."

The boy left and Aziraphale turned back to his work. He heard the door creak open and expected to hear the voice of one of his bosses, so he was very surprised to hear the quivering voice of Crowley.

"Aziraphale, I…"

The angel spun around to look at the demon. He could tell just by her voice that there was something wrong. As soon as he saw her, he knew what it was.

"Oh, God ," Azirphale swore, he wasn't usually one to do that, but in this case, he'd make an exception.

Crowley was pregnant, and if he was right about how far along she was… he swallowed.

"Uh… Crowley…"

The demon burst into tears.

"I don't know what's wrong with me!" she said. "I just feel so weird, and my middle keeps getting bigger, and I keep throwing up! And I keep having these mood swings, and…"

Azirphale walked over to her and took her in his arms, she cried into his shoulder.

Inside, the angel was screaming. HOW COULD SHE NOT KNOW? HOW COULD SHE NOT REALIZE THAT SHE'S PREGNANT?

Then he remembered the ark, and how she'd said that "at least you still have one."

Oh, she didn't know how it worked, of course.

Aziraphale helped the demon to the bed to sit down. She was still crying, but not as hard as before. The angel's hands on her shoulders were shaking. To be honest, although he'd seen it with humans, he'd never really thought about if angels and demons could procreate, apparently the answer was yes. He wished they would have known that before… He shook his head. It was silly to assume they couldn't, after all, the Nephelim had been the children of angels, although Aziraphale was pretty sure none of them were female-presenting at the time.

"Crowley," he said gently. "I know what's wrong with you."

The tears tracked down the demon's face faster.

"You do?"

"Yes," Aziraphale began. "You know how humans have children?"

Crowley, though clearly confused, noded.

"That's happening to you."

What little color was there, the demon didn't look very good in the first place, drained from Cowley's face.

" WHAT? "

"I'm sorry dear, you're having a baby." Aziraphale started crying then. "And it's my fault."

Now Crowley's face is screwed in confusion.

"Why?"

Aziraphale felt blood rushing to his face. "I'm afraid I'm the one who got you pregnant."

At the confusion still on the demon's face, Aziraphale began to explain. When he was done, Crowley looked both shocked and terrified.

"If, if either of our sides finds out…" She said, "They… They'll destroy the baby."

"We won't let them find out," Aziraphale assured, holding the demon close to him.

"What if, what if it's a monster?" Crowley asked. "After all, I can't imagine demons and angels are supposed to…"

"We'll deal with that when it comes," Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley stayed with Aziraphale until the time came. When it did and the baby was born, Crowley screamed through the whole thing while Aziraphale sat in the hallway outside, curled in on himself, crying. When the baby was finally born, the bundle was given to Azirphale, who held the child close to his chest. The child had fiery red hair like Crowley's and blue eyes like Aziraphale, although his were piercingly bright, brighter than Aziraphale's ever were.

"What's his name going to be?" The midwife asked.

Aziraphale and Crowley hadn't considered that yet.

"I'm not sure yet, I think his mother needs to help me find one."

The midwife seemed surprised by this. It was true that usually Jewish men got to pick the children's name, especially the first born, usually it was a family name.

When Crowley was awake, and back to normal, being a demon did have the perks of all the extra weight just disappearing, as well as healing taking place very quickly, Aziraphale brought the baby to his mother, who took him into her arms and started crying.

"What are you going to call him?" Crowley asked.

"I wanted you to help me choose," the angel said.

Crowley shot him a withering look. "But you have a name you like, right?"

The angel nodded.

"I was thinking, Castiel," he said.

Crowley looked down at the baby in her arms. She smiled, the smile was gentle, open, not something that was normal for the demon's face.

"Castiel," she whispered. "I like that."

Castiel reached up to touch his mother's face.

"I hope he's an angel, like his father," the demon said. "I definitely don't want him on my side."

Crowley started to cry. She handed the baby toward Aziraphale, who took the bundle.

"Take it, angel," she said. "Make some excuse to your superiors for where it came from, don't let them know it's mother is a demon. I can feel its grace already, just take it away."

"But, Crowley, it's your…"

"I NEVER WANT TO SEE IT AGAIN!" the demon screamed.

Aziraphale jumped, but carried the baby out the door.

Crowley got to her feet and miracled a knife into her hand. She put it against her hair and began to chop it off. The red curls fell around his feet. He chopped the hair away until there was hardly any left, after all, he doesn't want it reminding him of his son.

When he leaves, no one mistakes him for "Aziaphale's wife."

He went out into the desert again and cried. He screamed to heaven in anguish.

Chapter 2: Chapter 1

Notes:

This chapter takes place during Supernatural season 5 episode 8, there are a few changes I've made to match up with this AU for this story, most of which I've explained here.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

America, 2010 AD

Castiel watched as Sam and Dean vanished from where they stood in front of him moments before.* As darkness closed in around him he realized that there was no way that it was a Trickster they were fighting. It had to be an angel, but which one? They were more powerful than Castiel, but then again, most angels were more powerful than Castiel, he was, after all, one of the lowest tier of angels.

The angel began to pace back and forth within the confines of the black room. He ran though all the angels in his head, all their powers, this angel is very powerful, and he came to the conclusion that if the supposed Trickster was indeed an angel, then they would have to be one of the four Archangels. He couldn't be Michael, or Lucifer, for obvious reasons. Also he couldn't be Gabriel, Castiel had met the bureaucratic bastard, and he definitely was nothing like the Trickster in question, which left Raphael, who hadn't been seen in years. Castiel had heard many stories of what had become of the third Archangel, but none of them seemed to agree.

So, this thing that the brothers were facing was Raphael, the most peaceful of the Archangels, the Archangel of healing, who, according to some accounts, hadn't even chosen a side in the First Great War. Castiel couldn't be sure though, he'd never seen Raphael before.

Castiel wasn't an extremely young angel, but he wasn't an old one either. Many of the low ranking angels had been created after the great war to replenish the ranks of angels, Castiel was one of these, although he remembered very little of his creation, and most of existence before his platoon commander, one Principality Aziraphale, had recommended him for a minor position on earth and he had been given his first corporation, to help the angel in his mission to spread the gospel. At that time he'd been in a corporation with fiery red hair, which he'd quite liked, until he'd accidentally got it killed in America in the eighteenth century.. That's when he'd, after a whole ton of paperwork, gotten his second corporation, this one female, and quite pretty. He'd accidentally gotten that one killed during the craziness of the failed armageddon of 1990. He'd only recently gotten his current corporation, male, black hair, same blue eyes, and mostly-tall, and now it had been all beat up by ?Raphael.

He sat on the floor of the cell and stared at the wall. If the trickster really was Raphael, that would mean he'd be able to help them stop the impending doom. Michael and Lucifer wanted to use Dean and Sam as puppets to fight each other and cause another apocalypse. He couldn't let that happen, after all, Dean and Sam were his friends (Dean may be a little more, though the angel wasn't sure, after all, angels weren't able to show emotions that weren't 'heavenly love' or whatever that meant), and he couldn't let Lucifer and Michael destroy the whole world.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, hours? Days? but then he suddenly found himself back in the warehouse with Sam, Dean, and the Archangel.

Raphael was surrounded by holy flames, so it seemed that Dean and Sam had figured it out, just like Cas had.

"Cas, are you okay?" Dean asked.

"I'm fine," Castiel spat, glaring past Dean at the Archangel in front of him.

Raphael lowered his raised arm.

"Hello, Raphael," Cas said, continuing to glare at him.

Gabriel smiled, it didn't reach his eyes.

"Hey, bro," he said, his tone condescending. "How's your little plan going? Let me guess, awful."

Cas continued to glare at him, but inside he was conflicted, would it spell his doom now that an Archangel knew of his plan to try to stop the Apocalypse. After all, everyone in heaven knew how that had turned out for Aziraphale.

"Okay, we're out of here," Dean said. He turned to leave. "Come on, Sam."

"Uh…" Raphael said, watching as the brothers and Castiel turned to leave. "Okay? Guys? So-- So, what? Huh?" He looked down at the flames around him. "You're just gonna-- You're just gonna leave me here forever?"

The brothers and Castiel continued to walk away, ignoring him. When they reached the door, Dean turned.

"No. We're not, because we don't screw with people the way you do." He glared at Raphael and stepped toward him. "And for the record, this is not about some prizefight between you and your brothers. Or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family."

Dean turned toward the door. He reached toward the fire alarm lever, broke the glass, and sent the alarm wailing.

Raphael looked up at the ceiling above him. The sprinkler started spraying water and the Archangel turned back toward them as the fire around him went out.

"Don't say I never did anything for you," Dean said, then, with one last look at the Archangel, he turned to the door to leave.

Castiel and Raphael locked eyes. There was something pained, something angry, and something confused in the Archangel's expression. Castiel turned to follow Dean as the last of the flames went out.

"All that stuff he was spouting in there, you think he was telling the truth?" Dean asked Sam.

The two brothers walked toward the Impala as Castiel exited the old paper mill behind them, closing the door behind him.

"I think he believes it," Sam replied.

Dean and Sam reached the Impala and stopped.

"So, what do we do?" Dean asked.

There was a brief heavy silence, Castiel walked toward the two brothers and the car.

"I don't know," Sam said, quietly.

"I'll tell you one thing," Dean began, "right about now, I wish I was back on a TV show."

"Yeah, me too," Sam replied.

Sam and Dean opened the Impala doors and got in.

Castiel watched them. He wished he could tell them everything that was running through his head. He wished that he had a plan, a way to stop Armageddon, but he didn't.

He was just an ordinary angel, after all.

The Archangel, who was not Raphael (he was, in fact, Gabriel, the real Gabriel, not the fake imposter they had replaced with him in heaven), watched as the ring of fire around him grew smaller. He found it sort of funny that not only had the Winchesters believed him, Castiel also had come to the wrong conclusion. Although, the trenchcoat-wearing angel in question made his stomach twist. There was something definitely wrong with his aura. Gabriel would have paid big money to be able to see that angel's wings, as the wings were one part of an angel that could tell you the most about them. To his knowledge there were very few, if any angels that had pure white wings(one Actually, named Aziraphale), and even fewer of the fallen with pure black wings (actually not quite true, as there was only one of these too, a demon named Crowley). All angels' wings had marks on them, whether color, wing shape, or patterns, which would tell you a lot about the angel in question.

The scariest thing about the angel, in the eyes of the youngest Archangel, was the fact that he had never seen him before. He'd heard of him though. He'd been pretty influential during the days of the early church, and had helped the Principality of Earth a lot during that time. Even though Gabriel had ran away from heaven just before the great war really began in earnest, he occasionally made trips to heaven during the first 4004 years of history, and knew most of the angels created after the fall by their aura's, if not their corporations, but he didn't recognise Castiel, which would imply he was created after the birth of Christ, which couldn't be right, as no angels had been created since the flood.

That wasn't the worst of it though. There was something very Raphael about the angel's aura. Gabriel hadn't seen or heard from his brother since the Fall, although he did occasionally take his name when he made trips to heaven, or when tricky hunters had found him out. He couldn't understand why the angel would have a piece of him at all. Unless Raphael had created the angel, but that wasn't possible, angels couldn't create without God's permission, and even if they could, they wouldn't be able to create other angels , no matter how low ranking.

Gabriel would have to get to the bottom of it, or it would kill him.

South Downs, 2010 AD

It had been twenty years since the Armageddon't, and a demon and an angel had finally confessed their feelings for each other, and, without the problem of both of their sides bearing down on them, were able to move to the South Downs where they had bought a cottage together and settled down. They'd even gotten married (as close to married as two Supernatural beings could be). The only remnant of what they'd been before was some plants, a vintage black Bentley, and a shop in Soho, London, which Aziraphale had been unable to part with.

Life wasn't all sunshine and roses though.

It had been five years into their relationship when Aziraphle caught Crowley cutting his hair off with a knife and crying uncontrollably in the cottage bathroom that was rarely used (except sometimes the shower). It had taken Aziraphale awhile to realize what had the demon all shaken up, until he remembered it was Castiel's birthday. He'd always wondered why Crowley would cut his hair short each year, then grow it back in a few days. When he had been presenting female any time through the centuries, which had been increasingly less and less since 33 AD, he'd always be male for a week before going back to female again.

Aziraphale, although he'd always felt something during their son's birthday, had never seen the connection. Not until that day.

He'd taken the demon, whose hair was half cut, into his arms and Crowley had sobbed for hours. Aziraphale couldn't imagine how he felt. At least the angel had been able to see Castiel through the centuries, even if only rarely, and never as the angel's father, Crowley hadn't seen his son since the day he was born.

Eventually, Aziraphale had begun telling Crowley stories about their son, what he knew of his life, and it seemed to make the demon feel better, if only a little bit. He still cried every year on his birthday, and cut his hair, although he let Aziraphale do that for him now. It seemed that the red locks only served as a reminder, since that's what physical characteristic of Crowley the baby had had. Aziraphale never told Crowley that Castiel had deep blue, almost black wings in the same shape as Croewley's own, he knew that wouldn't do the demon any good, he would start taking his pain out on his feathers if he knew that.

On Castiel's birthday, in 2010, Crowley didn't get out of bed, so neither did Aziraphale. He didn't need to go to London to open the bookshop, he didn't necessarily like opening the bookshop anyway. What he needed to do was be by his husband's side as he cried.

At first Aziraphale tried to read, but any mention of anyone with a name that sounded even vaguely like Castiel would cause him to cry, and the words 'my son' did it too. Eventually he gave up reading and just held Crowley as they both cried.

There couldn't be anything more painful than losing a child, both the demon and the angel were aware. Aziraphale wanted nothing more than to try to find Castiel and tell him the truth, but he couldn't do that, it would be too much of a danger to the angel, so instead he cried and cried, and when he ran out of tears he still lay there, hearing the sounds of an empty house.

Notes:

Good News! I'm allowed to watch Supernatural again so I'm going to be able to make sure this is all right without just relying on the Wiki! Yay! Also, for this fic there are some interlude chapters, they're too short for me to justify trading them like normal chapters, so whenever there are interludes I'll be posting them on Fridays. Thank you all for reading, and for all your comments and kudos!

Chapter 3: Interlude

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Rome, 42 AD

Castiel could almost be described as sweet when he was confused. The look on his face caused Aziraphale to struggle not to smile. He had to keep himself from smiling though, he couldn't let Catiel know that he cared about him any more than a superior was meant to care about someone below them, which, judging by Gabriel's treatment of him, was not at all. He couldn't allow anyone, including Castiel, realize that he had a connection to the angel. His big, dark blue almost black wings were enough to set him strangely apart.

That's why Aziraphale had to be as far away from him as he could get on his birthday, even though they were both working on the same assignment. So Aziraphle went to Rome, where he crashed into someone that he should have been ashamed to see, after all, the last time he'd seen them, eight years before, he was taking his firstborn child away to give it to his worst enemies. He wasn't though, he was happy.

The demon was sitting at the bar, drinking, which would have been odd, except that Aziraphale was painfully aware that it was their son's birthday. He decided he would do anything except bring that up.

"Still a demon then?" He found himself asking after the conversation had been started. Crowley glared at him, glarefully [1] " What else would I be, an Aardvark ?"

Aziraphale spluttered for something to say, so instead changed the topic and invited the demon to lunch with him. Throughout the whole time they didn't mention Castiel, or what had transpired between them eight years before, and both the angel and the demon were fine with that. Neither were able to not think about those things though. The demon kept having to bite his tongue before he asked about his son, knowing it would only rip his heart apart even more than it was. He had to trust that Castiel was alright, after all, he hadn't heard of the presence of any new demons, or a reveal of an angel that was actually half demon.

When the two parted ways, Crowley was actually glad that he'd had Aziraphale to distract him with idle conversations. That didn't stop him from going back to the bar and getting so utterly wasted that he couldn't remember what happened for the rest of the day.

Notes:

11 to quote a famous author [return to text]

I'm sorry about this, it is kind of sad :(, and most of the interludes are going to be like this. Advance warning!

Chapter 4: Chapter 2

Notes:

So, I got carried away with Gabriel, but I need him to get the plot going so... it is what it is!

Chapter Text

Heaven, 2010 AD

Gabriel walked through heaven, under the guise of an ordinary angel, in the whole uniform, complete with the atrocious shoes and socks. Honestly, he preferred the demons' way of dressing to heaven's. He did the best he could to pass unnoticed as he headed toward the large heavenly archives.

He got past the archive security by claiming to be the Archangel Raphael, which he had done so much by this point that the action didn't phase him in the least.

Gabriel walked through the Archives until he reached a Cabinet marked Cas - Cat. He flicked the drawer open and was surprised by how few files there were under the name Castiel. Most angels had close to ten or twenty under their name, Cas had exactly three. .

Gabriel pulled the files out and walked through the archives to take a seat at one of the tables in the center of the colossal room filled with filing cabinets.

He opened the first file which was marked 33 AD - 1776 AD, and detailed Castiel's first corporation. There was a slip in the front of it with a report of the accidental destruction of all of Catiel's file before the date where this file started. It said that they had accidentally been burned by his superior officer, one Aziraphale, Principality, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Principality of Earth. Gabriel found himself wondering why that name sounded familiar.

Gabriel flipped through the files on Castiel's first corporation. It seemed the angel had spent a significant time on earth during the early church before being recalled to heaven around the fall of Rome. He returned back to earth in the sixteenth century, then managed to get his Corporation killed during the Revolutionary War in America. There was a picture of his first Corporation in the file. He had fiery red hair and the same blue eyes that he had to that day. He was skinny as a twig and rather tall. Gabriel was shocked by his resemblance to Raphael's corporation the last time the Archangel had seen his brother.

The second file detailed Castiel's second corporation, as well as including his discorporation report for the last one, and his new corporation filing request. It seemed that they had intended for the angel to replace Aziraphale, who was due for a promotion.

There was that name again, Aziraphale.

The angel, it turned out, was not changed from his location stationed on earth and Castiel was instead given a different mission on earth.

He'd held that corporation until 1990. The circumstances of this one's death were unclear, and there was no discorporation paperwork in this file, or the next, which Gabriel found odd, not-Gabriel loved making lower ranking angels fill out mountains of paperwork for him.

There was another corporation request, this one explaining an assignment for pulling a soul-- Dean Winchester-- from Hell, in the next file. The rest of the paperwork detailed Castiel trying to stop the upcoming second apocalypse attempt and the fight between Michael and Lucifer. Gabriel closed the file and sighed.

Most of what he'd read he had either already known, or had figured out. The absence of files before 33 AD left him still believing that there was something off about the angel's creation. He doubted that the story of burned files was true, but it was clear that Castiel either believed he'd been around since slightly post-fall, or he was playing dumb for heaven. Either way, it wasn't true. Memories, even angel memories, could be manipulated by any angel principality or higher. There was also the odd thing of the angel's aura, which could be because Raphael had messed with his memory, or, it could be the Principality that kept coming up in the reports.

Aziraphale.

That name screamed in Gabriel's head, trying to tell him he should remember where he'd heard it before.

He heard the sound of footsteps on the other side of some of the filing cabinets where he wasn't able to see the person, or them him. He slowly got up, stuffing the files into the inside coat of the grey suit with a slight miracle to make them smaller.

"Where is he?" Not-Gabriel asked.

Gabriel ducked into the rows of cabinets, knowing the Archangel was looking for him. Or, more accurately, Raphael.

He pushed his back into a cabinet as Purple-eyes walked into the room he was just in. He heard the sound of the Archangel complaining about his staff not reporting the other Archangel's presence soon enough, before he stormed out of the archives.

Gabriel moved to leave too, but he noticed that he was hidden in the Az's. The cabinet he was leaning against was marked Aziraphale- Aziraphale. He turned around and opened one of the drawers to pull out a file with the Principality's name on it. There were hundreds of them. He pulled one out that was marked 33 AD- 300 AD, which he hoped would include Castiel, then the three latest ones he could find, which he noticed all ended with 1990, there was no further paperwork on the angel. He was reminded that Castiel had lost their second corporation in 1990, he wondered, the pit of his stomach falling out, if Castiel had lost the corporation killing or Falling Aziraphale. He hoped not, since the principality was his only lead about the angel in question.

He put the files in the same pocket as the last and then hightailed it out of heaven before Not-Gabriel could find him.

America, 2010 AD

Back in his apartment, Gabriel pulled out the files on the Principality. He first opened the one on Aziraphale's early church days, but there wasn't much from it he could learn about Castiel that hadn't been in the angel's own file. He did find the report about Aziraphale accidentally burning all previous files of the angel's. He claimed he'd been reading the files while considering Castiel for his mission when the persecutors of Christ in Jerusalem, lead by Saul, had burned the house he'd been staying in. He'd barely managed to escape without getting his corporation burned and had been unable to save the files.

The story was almost believable.

He then opened one of the more recent files. This one was titled Earth Observation of the Principality Aziraphale from 42 AD - 1990. This file was full of photographs of Aziraphale and what at first Gabriel thought was Castiel, but then realized it couldn't be as there were photos of the two of them together after Castiel had been discorperated in 1776. Both the beings in the photos had had the same corporation though all the intervening time. As he reached the twentieth century there were far more photos. There were some of them with the two supernatural entities at the Ritz, and in Saint James Park, and in a bookshop marked A.Z. Fell and Co, which Gabriel had to assume was the angel's place of residence for his assignment.

Of the other two files, one was marked 1979 - 1990 Aziraphale. This file included more pictures of the Angel and his red haired companion, who looked so much like Castiel it was kind of freaky. In the files Aziraphale reported trying to "help the Antichrist see what was right," and talked about his dealings with Lucifer's son. Gabriel's stomach dropped. According to the files the Nephilim, Gabriel's nephew, had been on the earth since 1979 and he hadn't even noticed. As he got to the reports on the end of the world, these were not submitted by Aziraphale, but not-Gabriel, who painted the angel in a very dark light. Gabriel's hands trembled. It seemed that Aziraphale and the red-head, who was named in the file as the demon Crawley, had worked together with the antichrist to try to stop the end of the world.

The final file, this one said Sunday, post failed Armeggedon, Termination, Aziraphale, worried Gabriel. After what he had read in the previous file, he knew what not-Gabriel would do to Aziraphale, and he didn't like the odds of losing his only lead. He opened the file and found what he expected, a death warrant made out to one Aziraphale, Principality, Angel of the Eastern Gate, Principality of Earth and sighed by not-Gabriel using his own -- that is to say, real Gabriel's-- sigil . It seemed the angel had died by hellfire, not a good way for anyone to go.

Except after that sheet was a paper was a whole ton of paperwork. It discontinued all Earth Observation rights of heaven on Aziraphale. There was paperwork forbidding any angel to approach the principality. It seemed that heaven was not to contact him in any way unless he had contacted them in the first place.

That was odd, if the Principality was dead. So, somehow Aziraphale had survived his execution in a way that made heaven so scared they had met all of his demands.

That was… interesting…

The final sheet of paper in the file was a marriage certificate for two angels, or, more accurately, an angel and a demon. Aziraphale and the demon Crowley had gotten married about a year after the failed Apocalypse. That in itself was odd enough, except that it got weirder, the Archangel who had signed the certificate to make it binding in heaven's eyes was…

…Raphael.

Gabriel stared down at his brother's sigil, standing out clearly on the page.

So, Castiel felt like Raphael.

Aziraphale was the first person on record who ever knew Castiel.

Raphael had signed Crowley and Aziraphale's wedding certificate.

Aziraphale must know Raphael.

Gabriel smiled, then took a bite into the piece of chocolate he was holding.

The Archangel was going to take a trip to London, maybe get some answers about the Winchesters' pet angel.

Chapter 5: Chapter 3

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Heaven, 2010 AD

Heaven was bustling with news of the Archangel Raphael having been there, though only one angel had seen him, and she couldn't even describe what he looked like. Castiel almost butt in and told the rest of heaven he knew that Raphael was pretending to be the Trickster Loki, but didn't. He was in enough shit with just the trying-to-stop the Apocalypse stuff, after all, every angel knew what happened to the last angel who had tried that, and Castiel didn't think he could survive hellfire like Aziraphale could [1]. Then there was Uriel, who he personally had to kill for his rebellion, but he'd been trying to help Hell.

He had barely kept his rebellion from most of heaven. None of them knew that he was already experiencing effects from the rebellion. No one in heaven knew that the blood of fellow angels was on his hands. He had to kill them though, if he hadn't killed them then they would have reported him to heaven and things would have been ruined.

There was only one loose thread in heaven, as applied to him, and that was the Archangel Samael, who had been tied to the prophet Chuck, but Castiel was pretty sure that they wouldn't report him, after all, they seemed to enjoy him floundering around looking for God.

Castiel returned to his office and sat behind his desk, staring up at the glowing white ceiling. He should have been filling out paperwork for his last job, to keep Gabriel from figuring anything out, but he didn't want to.

What he really wanted to know was how Raphael could abandon everyone like he did. It was enough that he had abandoned Heaven, how could he also abandon humanity? Disguise himself as a trickster god and give the humans "what they deserved," instead of his job, healing. Sam and Dean had told him about what had happened on the other times they'd run into the trickster, and he was disappointed with the Archangel. The only consolation was that at least he wasn't as bad as Gabriel.

Castiel wished more than anything that Raphael would agree to help them stop the end of the world, instead of insisting that Dean and Sam play their parts as the hosts of Lucifer and Michael. After all, that kind of thing, using humans to fight each other instead of their own corporations, hadn't even occurred to angels until 1990, when one dumb angel had said that "demons can do it, so why can't we?" When they were young, only Sam had been primed to be Lucifer's host, it was only after the Failed Apocalypse that Michael had even considered using Dean in the fight. Originally Sam was meant to be Lucifer's host in 1990. Even though the boy would only have been seven, Lucifer could have aged the body up once he was in it.

Then Lucifer had been locked in the Cage by the Antichrist, and now Sam and Dean were in this whole mess, and Cas was too, he couldn't leave the brothers, especially not Dean, for some reason.

He sighed and got to work on his paperwork, lying about more than just what he and the Winchesters were up to, since he didn't report Raphael, for some reason.

Soho, London, 2010 AD

The day after Castiel's birthday Crowley was…. better, though not his usual self. Aziraphale decided that it would be safe to leave Crowley at the cottage while he went to the bookshop to open it for the day. He promised to return for lunch, if Crowley didn't come to the bookshop himself, then teleported away after giving the demon a goodbye kiss.

The angel arrived right back in the bookshop he had had for two hundred years and carefully opened up shop. He was worried about his husband, that was true, but he couldn't do anything for Crowley, and he knew that eventually he'd be back to his own self as happened every year.

The morning went by quite normally, a couple people tried and failed to buy Aziraphale's books. Things were actually pretty good. That was until he felt the shock of angelic power enter the shop. He froze. Heaven was on orders that they were not to show up at the bookshop in pain of death to any angel who broke them.

The newcomer was a couple inches shorter than Aziraphale with longish blond-brown hair. He was wearing jeans and a green jacket, which definitely didn't match the normal angel dress code, but his aura was powerful, akin to one of the Archangel's. Aziraphale felt a lump in his throat. There was only one angel he could be, Raphael.

The Archangel met his eyes and Aziraphale quite abruptly said that he was closing up shop, shooting everyone out except the angel. He closed the door and locked it. He then walked over to the phone and dialed Crowley without drawing attention to it while he spoke.

"How can I help you?" he asked.

The Archangel studied him. He looked briefly at the antique phone in Aziraphale's hand.

"I came to talk to you," he said.

"Oh," Aziraphale stated flatly. "Just to talk?"

He gave the Archangel a look that when usually used on the members of the mob, who tried to get him to sell the bookshop, caused them to run with a nonexistent tail between their legs. The Archangel didn't even react.

"It's about an angel that used to be in your platoon," he said. "One Castiel."

Aziraphale froze. If this was about Castiel, then he couldn't call Crowley about it.

It was sure bad luck that Crowley answered seconds after he decided this.

" Aziraphale, angel?" Crowley asked. " What is it?"

"I'm going to have to put lunch on hold, love," the angel said, then hung up the phone.

Raphael watched his every move. He seemed intrigued by what Aziraphale had said.

"We can talk in the back room," Aziraphale said. "But I'll have you know that since you are breaking the laws of heaven in confronting me without my first requesting it, it is within my rights to kill you if I feel threatened."

The angel said it rather matter-of-factly.

Aziraphale led Gabriel to the bookshop's back room. The Archangel was a little bit freaked out by the way the angel had so plainly stated that he could, and most probably would, kill him if he made him feel uncomfortable. Gabriel was starting to wonder if the visit was worth it. Sure, the mystery of Castiel was irritating, but not enough for him to get himself killed.

He sat down on the offered chair and studied the principality who sat down in front of him. His aura was interesting. Gabriel was expecting something demonic mixed into it, after reading the marriage certificate, he was right, but there was something else, something Raphael in it, not as much as Castiel, but nearly as much as the demonic traces.

"So, why do you want to talk to me about Castiel?" Aziraphale asked with a clearly forced smile and tone of nonchalance.

"Well, It's not exactly about Castiel," he said, deciding that he was just going to spit the question out. "How do you know Raphael?"

Aziraphale's whole face froze. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't play dumb with me," Gabriel said. "I can sense his aura all over you."

A bit of an exaggeration, yes, but it got the point across.

"But…" the principality began. "I thought you were Raphael."

Now it was Gabriel's turn to freeze. Oh, he'd dug himself into a hole with that move. It seemed that he had let his identity out of the bag assuming that the Principality knew Raphael and therefore would know that he was not him.

Both angels were so caught up in their individual confusion they didn't hear the shop bell ring.

"I'm not Raphael," he stated. "I'm looking for him, and I thought you knew where he was."

"If you're not Raphael, then who are you?" Aziraphale asked.

"Gabriel, " A voice whispered in astonishment, it was neither Aziraphale's nor Gabriel's.

Both the angels looked up to the doorway to see Crowley standing there, white faced. He was staring at Gabriel, his sunglasses in his hands.

His aura hit Gabriel in a wave. Demonic, yes, but also a very familiar power. He'd sensed it on Aziraphale and hadn't realized that it wasn't two different auras but one aura with two different parts.

"Raphael?" Gabriel said, in the same tone as Crowley.

Notes:

11 In fact, being half demon half angel Castiel could survive both holy water and hellfire, as well as be trapped in both a devil's trap and holy oil. [return to text]

So, you might have noticed that I've changed the character tags a couple times, and I'm probably going to do it again. I'm still writing this fic and working around all the Supernatural lore I didn't have when I started it. Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos, they make me so happy and so excited to be writing this! There's another interlude coming this Friday, so expect that!

Chapter 6: Interlude

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Wessex, 537 AD

Aziraphale hated being a knight of the round table. He hated the attitudes of the other knights around him that he was supposed to be blessing. He hated the heavy armour he had to wear and the cold, misty air and the mud that squished under his feet whenever he tried to go anywhere. He also hated quests. The latest had been sent by heaven though, so he had no choice, even if he preferred to be flat out drunk, it was Castiel's birthday, after all, and no matter how many years passed, it still hurt.

He walked into the misty plane, declaring himself Aziraphale of the knights of the round table, and trying to challenge the black knight. The figure of the knight himself appeared in front of Aziraphale with some vague, threatening challenge.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale gasped. "Crowley, is that you under there?"

The black knight jerked his helmet up and glared at Aziraphale before ordering the others around him away. Saying that he "knew him."

"What are you doing here?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley replied that he was there on orders, meant to be undoing whatever Aziraphale was doing, which meant that they were just cancelling each other out. Aziraphale groaned. Crowley then suggested they do nothing, as it would make no difference..

"I can't go against heaven!" the principality argued before leaving the demon's presence.

Little did the principality know, Crowley was having a hard day, and had he been able to see his hair under the helmet he would see that it was a mutilated mess. Crowley was not in a good state of mind, he needed someone , someone at least he cared about, even if he knew they didn't care about him, but Aziraphale had denied even his offer of friendship.

He spent the rest of the day with his back against a tree and a wine skin to his mouth getting utterly drunk. Love was a monster, and he wished that someone would be able to understand the pain he was in. Son gone, taken away to his enemy, the love of his life despised him, and for good reason. He didn't deserve love.

As he sat there crying, his foul mood played with his powers, his wish was granted, someone would know his pain, that person would be king Arthur. Not only would the king never have a child to call his own, but his wife would cheat on him with another man, with his best friend. Even after Crowley figured out this was his fault he wouldn't do anything about it, because in a twisted way, it made him feel better.

He was a demon after all.

Notes:

So, personally, I always loved that King Arthur actually existed in the Good Omens universe and while I was writing this fic I realized that there are a lot a parallels between Crowley and Arthur, so I thought I'd write this little tidbit about why Arthur's story ends the way it does!

Also, I always enjoy writing these interludes but I also hate what It does to Crowley!

Finally, thank you to everyone who's read this fic, left kudos, or comments or all three! It means so much to me. Wow, almost 1000 hits!

Chapter 7: Chapter 4

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

South Downs, 2010 AD

Crowly mostly spent the day after Castiel's birthday sitting on the couch watching Golden Girls. It made him feel better, if not good.

He was surprised when he heard the phone begin ringing. He got up and picked it up.

"Aziraphale, angel ?" Crowley asked. "What is it? "

" I'm going to have to put lunch on hold, love ," the angel said, then hung up the phone.

Crowley looked down at the 1920s phone in his hand (which Aziraphale had insisted on putting in the cottage, regardless of Crowley insisting that they could just use his cell, and if he wasn't with Crowley Aziraphale would have the phone at the shop) and wondered why Aziraphale would act so odd . He never canceled lunch, especially the day after… well, that. Something was upsetting the angel, and it was concerning because he hadn't lied to Crowley, not since they'd been married.

He put the phone back where it belonged and turned to grab his jacket, turning the TV off with a snap of his fingers. He hurried out of the house and to the Bentley, putting the key into the ignition and took off as fast as possible.

The radio immediately began to play:

And you're rushing headlong

You've got a new goal

And you're rushing headlong

Out of control

And you think you're so strong

But there ain't no stopping

And there's nothing you can do about it

Nothing you can do, no, there's nothing you can do about it

No, there's nothing you can (nothing you can)

Nothing you can do about it [1]

Crowley put the gas on harder. Why would Aziraphale not tell him what was wrong. He'd probably called Crowley for his help, then something had happened to change his mind, but what? What had happened to Aziraphale to make him change his mind?

Headlong, down the highway

And you're rushing headlong

Out of control

And you think you're so strong

But there ain't no stopping, and you can't stop rocking

And there's nothing you can, nothing you can

Nothing you can do about it [2]

He drove into downtown London, not touching the break once, pushing 100. He couldn't let something happen to his angel. He stopped his Bentley in the normal parking spot, the no parking lines pulling back away from the pavement.

He barely stopped before he jumped out of the car and miricled the door open. He entered at practically a run, but slowed when he felt it. It was a presence he hadn't felt in so long he'd almost forgotten it. It was his brother, more than that, it was his twin.

He entered the back room and stared at the Archangel sitting there.

" Gabriel?"

His brother looked at him in confusion, then, comprehension dawned.

" Raphael?"

Aziraphale looked up at his husband, then at his guest in confusion. Gabriel leapt up from the couch and pulled a very surprised Crowley into a hug. The demon tensed at the contact.

"I feared you were dead," Gabriel whispered. "It's so good to see you." Tears were brimming the youngest Archangel's eyes.

Crowley tensed further.

"Ngk, not dead… just… you know, Fallen."

Gabriel pulled back then looked over at a very confused Aziraphale, then back at Crowley.

"And married?" He asked. "How come you didn't invite me to the wedding, you bastard!"

"Well, I didn't know where you were!"

"You could have at least tried to find me."

"And waste valuable time?" Crowley asked. "On you? I don't know if you're worth that, little brother."

Gabriel laughed. "Little brother? We're twins, Raphael, TWINS!"

"But I'm older!" Crowley said, taking off his glasses to give Gabriel a full snake eyes stare.

"What is going on?" Aziraphale butted in, clearly concerned. Crowley could understand why his angel would be confused. He turned toward him.

"Aziraphale, there's some things you don't know—"

"I don't know about what?" The angel asked, clearly mad. "What have you been keeping from me?"

Gabriel looked between his brother's pained expression and the anger in his husband's eyes.

"He doesn't know?" Gabriel asked.

Crowley hung his head.

"Aziraphale, I… I didn't think it was important."

Aziraphale's mouth dropped open.

"Didn't think it was important? Anything about you is important to me!"

"I was worried it might change the way you think of me, and I…" I didn't want you to despise me. I went so low after being so high… I couldn't bear the thought of how you would perceive me. It was bad enough I was a demon, but a demon after being an Archangel? Lucifer's brother? How could you love me then?

"Nothing would change the way I think about you," Aziraphale said, taking Crowley's hand in his own. "What is it? What is going on?"

Crowley looked at his husband, then at his brother.

"I'm Raphael." He said.

Aziraphale froze, his grip tightened on Crowley's hand.

"What?"

"Before I fell I was the Archangel Raphael, and this," he gestured to the angel next to him, "is my younger twin brother, Gabriel. The real Gabriel, not the imposter they have up in heaven."

Aziraphale, still clutching Crowley's hand, looked between him and Gabriel. The demon felt the moment his husband opened his third eye and was able to see the similarities between the two's auras. He watched understanding dawn.

"That's why you were asking me about Raphael!" Aziraphale gasped.

Soho, London, 2010 AD

Gabriel nodded. "Yeah, some of the reasons."

"You were looking for me?" Raphael asked.

"Well, yeah it was about—"

Raphael's eyebrows dipped down, his eyes glowed abnormally pale amber. His irises expanded past the whites of his eyes and his pupils went to slits.

" What led you to Aziraphale? " He hissed. The question seemed more like a threat.

"Well, I wasn't looking for you… no, I was… but it was only because I was looking into the Winchesters' pet angel… that's what led me to Aziraphale's file, in heaven…"

"You've been to heaven since—"

"Yes." Gabriel said. "I found your marriage certificate in his file, with Raphael's signature on it, so, I thought that Aziraphale would know where I could find you, which was true, to an extent."

"What angel were you looking into?" Crowley asked.

Gabriel saw the color drain from Aziraphale's face at the question, which he found odd. The principality already knew the name of the angel in question, so why would he be worried about Raphael knowing the answer to it too?

"An angel called Castiel, you probably…" you've probably never heard of him, he was created post-Fall, was what Gabriel was going to say, but he realized that as soon as he's mentioned Castiel's name Raphael had paled. His grip on his husband's hand had tightened and he'd stepped backwards toward the angel behind him. Aziraphale placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

" Castiel ?" His voice broke much as it had when he'd seen Gabriel, but there was more raw emotion to it. Pain. It sounded like tears were on the brink of running down his face.

Aziraphale wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him toward himself. Raphael was shaking.

" You've met Castiel? " The question was just as full as the name, Gabriel couldn't understand the reaction.

"Yes," he replied. "He's been helping the Winchester brothers in their little rebellion against fate."

Raphael wasn't listening. His eyes were glassy, almost as if he were in shock. Aziraphale carefully guided him to the couch he'd been sitting on earlier. The demon was frozen looking forward.

"I'll be right back," the angel said before disappearing down into the basement.

Gabriel stood there, awkwardly, looking down at his brother, who, for all he knew, was on another plain of existence. He looked like the way humans, who were not hunters, looked after seeing a ghost.

When the angel returned he had two bottles of fine red wine. One he handed to Raphael, whose hands were shaking, the other he used to pour a glass for both himself and Gabriel.

He handed the youngest Archangel his glass as he sat down on the chair across from them.

Raphael took the bottle and took a long drink. When he finally pulled the bottle away from his mouth he was visibly shaking less.

Aziraphale wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Raphael leaned his head against him.

"So, what is it you want to know about Castiel?" he was trying for nonchalant but his voice still broke on the angel's name.

"First of all," Gabriel asked. "Why did you react like that upon hearing his name?"

Raphael downed more wine. It was Aziraphale who answered.

"He's… well… he's our son."

Gabriel choked on the wine he had chosen that moment to drink.

"He's what?"

Notes:

11 "Headlong" by Queen (1991 Album, Innuendo) [return to text]

22 See Footnote 1 [return to text]

Thanks to everyone who had read, commented, left kudos, or all three. I was not expecting this much love when I started writing this fic, so thank you all!

Chapter 8: Chapter 5

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Soho, London, 2010 AD

He's our son.

Gabriel found it absurdly hard to wrap his head around that claim. Angels couldn't have kids, not the same way humans could, the Nephelim being the one big exception. A child between two angels? That was crazy! Between an angel and a demon? even crazier! But it did explain how shaken Raphael was.

"But, Castiel's an angel!"

Crowley chugged the wine again and shook his head.

"Only half angel," Aziraphale said, "but it seems that pure grace is dominant, since even demons had it before the fall."

Crowley nodded, taking another drink.

"But, you guys have only been married since 1990, Castiel has been alive since 33 AD. If he was your son he'd have to be conceived during the first Easter or…"

"Good Friday," Raphael supplied, taking another drink.

"Wait, you mean to tell me you two were together even back then?"

Aziraphale looked over at Raphael for help, the angel's face and ears were tinted red.

"That was an… accident. We got carried away, next thing we knew I was coming to Aziraphale very confused by my growing waist, and the morning sickness, he was the one who realized what had happened." He took another drink. His voice had quivered a little, and he was far too pale.

"So, you're the… mother?"

Raphael nodded. There were tears in his eyes now. "When he was born, he was so… beautiful. I didn't want to have to part with him, but if Hell knew… Lucifer would destroy him personally, and it would be horrible... a horrible... horrible destruction. And he'd have made me watch over, and over, and over again…"

He was shaking, tears streaming down his face. Aziraphale was holding him gently in his arms. The demon placed his head on the angel's chest.

"Crowley didn't want to give him up, but we had to, for his own good. I took him to heaven, modified his memory, and aged up his corporation. No one in heaven suspected anything."

Gabriel had to admit the story, oddly made sense. It would explain the Raphael feeling he'd had around Castiel that had led him on his whole hunt.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale said, apologizing about the demon crying into his chest. "This is just all very hard for Crowley, especially since yesterday was Castiel's birthday."

Gabriel froze. That was weird to hear, weirder than his twin brother being a demon, or him having a child with an angel. Angels didn't have birthdays. Even though some angels were older than others, there was no allotted time difference. No date. Castiel did have a birthday because he'd been born, in the most literal sense of the word.

"So," Gabriel said. "You're telling me I'm Castiel's uncle?"

Aziraphale chuckled. "I guess so, yes."

"Does he know?"

The principality shook his head. "It was too dangerous for him to know. As far as he's concerned, what I told heaven about accidentally burning his records is true."

"So," Crowley finally said, the tears having stopped, and him having taken another few drinks from the bottle in his hand. "Why did you come to us about Cas?"

"He's trying to stop the end of the world," Gabriel replied.

Crowley sat up straight.

"What?" He demanded.

"Castiel befriended a couple hunters, one of them accidentally opened the cadge and released Lucifer, now Michael wants to use one of the brothers as his vessel, and Lucifer wants to use the other, for the final showdown."

Aziraphale's face completely lost all colour.

"You're telling me," Crowley hissed. "That Casssstiel managed to befriend the effing Winchesssstersssss?"

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, the demon's eyes had gone full blown snake, his pupils nothing but vertical lines. "Um, what?" the angel asked.

"The Winchesters," Gabriel explained. "Are two brothers, well, technically three, but, anyway… The oldest is Dean, the sword of Michael, the eldest Archangel's true vessel. The youngest is Samuel, Lucifer's true vessel."

It shouldn't have been possible, but Aziraphale's face lost even more colour.

"Of course, now that Lucifer's out our brothers want to use them for the big smackdown, finish the fight."

"And Castiel is right in the middle of it?" Aziraphale asked. He looked over at Crowley, there were tears brimming his eyes. "He's going to get himself killed. This is so much worse than anything we ever did!"

Crowley got up from the couch, he set the empty wine bottle down on the table in front of him.

"So, what are we waiting for?" Crowley said he grabbed Aziraphale's hand and glared at Gabriel. Take us to our son."

The youngest Archangel looked between angel and demon in front of him, then with a snap of his fingers (which Crowley couldn't help but notice was neither down up like Hell, or up down like Heaven, but flat across) [1] they were teleported from the bookshop.

America, 2010 AD

Dean[2] leaned against the Impala, letting out a breath, "we're partners'' still echoing in his head. Maybe, just maybe, there was something good that could come out of Chuck's insistence on writing down their lives. He couldn't quite understand it, and he definitely wasn't okay with it, but maybe there was something about it, maybe it was almost worth it in the end.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Yeah, I am."

"Well," Sam said. "You're not going to believe this, but I think I've got a lead on the Colt!"

"Really…?" Dean asked, excitedly. If they had a lead on the Colt they'd be one step closer to killing Lucifer and ending the whole mess that their lives were in.

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but there was a popping sound and Dean's ears hurt as though he was at a high altitude. Sam's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Dean turned around. Raphael was standing behind him, along with two other figures, one of which had bright yellow eyes.

Dean felt his heart plummet. He'd seen enough people at the convention dressed as yellow eyes, but this guy, he was definitely not a Supernatural fan.

Dean reached for the Colt, but remembered that he was in this whole mess because they didn't have it. This was stupid, pointless, they'd killed Azazel, how could he be here? And why would Raphael bring him?

Sam walked around the car and glared at the Archangel in front of them.

"What are you doing here, Raphael?"

The demon next to the Archangel made an odd noise at that.

The Archangel sighed. "I told them my name was Raphael," he said to the demon, ignoring the Winchesters.

The third figure, who Dean couldn't understand the presence of, (why was he with Raphael?) he looked like a victorian scholar, or someone at a renaissance fair, grabbed the demon's hand, tightly. He was staring at Dean and Sam.

"And why would you do that?" the demon asked.

"Well, I couldn't exactly say I was Gabriel, Cassie would say I was lying."

The demon narrowed his eyebrows and glared at Gabriel. "Don't call him Casssssie," he hissed.

Dean wondered what the demon's problem with Castiel was.

"What are you doing here?" He called, louder than Sam had.

The threesome turned toward him. The demon's yellow eyes landed on him in full force. Dean felt his gut clench.

"And what do you want with Castiel?" he could deal with them coming for him, but Castiel? There was no way they would get away with hurting the angel.

There was the sound of wing beats and Dean turned to look behind him. Castiel appeared. The demon in front of him squeaked, then went weak at the knees. The Archangel and the man next to him caught him before he could hit the ground. Dean felt relief flood him at the sight of his angel.

"Cas," he said with a relieved sigh.

Cas looked between him and the three beings that had appeared.

"What is going on, Dean?" he asked.

Dean shook his head, to indicate he had no idea. Castiel turned toward the Archangel and his friends, his eyes were slightly glowing.

Notes:

11 When I was watching changing channels I noticed that Gabriel always snaps with his hand in place, which made me so excited because of how that tied in with Good Omens TV cannon! Crowley snaps down up (pulling his power from below) and Aziraphale snaps up down (pulling his power from heaven). In Supernatural, Gabriel has run from heaven, so he's not drawing his power from above, but is not Fallen, so he's not drawing his power from below. Gabriel draws his power from the earthly plain, and so snaps with his fingers in place, or in a horizontal line. [return to text]

22 This particular scene takes place at the end of "The Real Ghostbusters" unfortunately, I was unable to get exact quotes as the disk I'm using is scratched and won't navigate me to scenes from the menu screen. When I get better access to it I will probaby come back and fix any errors I might have made to the dialogue! [return to text]

thank you to everyone who has interacted with this fic! And I know you are all looking forward to the Ineffable Husbands meet Team Free Will (although, can I call it that since they're not going to give themselves that name in this fic? Oh well), it's coming next chapter, I promise. ;)

Chapter 9: Interlude

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Heaven, Before Time Began

Gabriel walked into the greenhouse. Raphael was bent over something, scraps of paper littered the area around him. He was so focused he didn't notice his brother's entrance.

"Raphael?" Gabriel called.

The Archangel looked up, spinning around to look at Gabriel. His eyes were glowing gold. Each of the Archangels had bright colored eyes, Raphael's were gold, the color of healing. Gabriel's were pure green, Michael's blue, and Lucifer's had been pure, blinding, holy white. He threw his curly red hair over his shoulder and stood up. Gabriel noticed behind him the beginnings of a new plant.

"What is it?" The Archangel asked.

"Well, I was wondering if you'd heard from Mother lately…"

Raphael seemed confused by the question.

"No," he replied. "Why?"

"Well, Lucifer was just pointing out to Michael that…"

"They're fighting again, aren't they?" Raphael asked, then sighed.

Gabriel nodded.

"I'll take care of it," he said, reaching down to grab a golden staff from where it was resting against the wall. Gabriel noticed there was something new spirled around it, some kind of new creature, this one without legs.

"What's that?" he asked as they walked out of the greenhouse and through the golden landscape of heaven.

"It's called a snake," the Archangel of healing said.

The two of them entered a large room where, indeed, the Morningstar, Archangel of Light and Truth was arguing with Michael, the First of Creation, and Leader of the Hosts of Heaven.

"HEY!" Raphael called. "Will you idiots both SHUT UP!?"

Michael turned toward Raphael and glared at him.

"This is not a matter you should be getting involved in, Azirias," he said.

The name was a jibe, it was one of Raphael's names, but it also meant 'one who heals' Michael was pointing out that he wasn't part of the conversation, whatever it was.

He leaned on his staff, the snake on it curled around his shoulders.

"I think that Azirias is very important right now, you two are causing division in the hosts of heaven, and I'm sure Mother will not like that. Maybe it's time to try to heal that rift."

"Oh shut up!" Michael snapped. "This is not my fault, it's all Lucifer!"

" Me? I just want to know what Mother's been doing, why is she hiding up there with her new creation instead of letting us help her?"

"And, as I said before, that is none of your business," Michael snapped.

Raphael cleared his throat. "But it is mine, I've been making her precious garden. If anyone here deserves to know her big secret it's me, allow me to ask her."

Both Archangels stared at their younger brother.

He did go to God, and he did ask her what she was creating, and she showed it to him, and he bowed before the humans just as she instructed him. He thought he did the right thing, even as he watched the other angels Fall he believed he'd chosen the right path.

That was until God called him before her and gave him her decree of damnation.

"You should not have questioned me, Raphael," she stated.

Next thing he knew he was surrounded by flames, Falling screaming from heaven, his grace ripped from him. His staff burned up in his hand as he Fell, and the creature in its essence combined with his. He became the Serpent, the first tempter.

He was trapped out of the very garden he had created. Locked away from the humans he was meant to guide and instruct.

The same day Gabriel ran from heaven, and Michael became the last of the Archangels.

Notes:

I'm sorry I'm only posting this now, it should have been posted on Christmas Eve, I was just busy, but hey, on the bright side, two chapters in one day!

Chapter 10: Chapter 6

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

America, 2010 AD

Crowley could tear his gaze from the angel in front of him. He looked different, although he supposed that was just because he'd gotten a new corporation since the last time the demon had seen him, after all it had been almost 2000 years. He still had the same blue eyes though, Aziraphale's eyes. His wings were stretched open behind him, dark, dark blue, a darker version of Crowley's main pair of wings before he fell. Aziraphale hadn't told him Castiel had his wings.

This was his son, standing in front of him. Crowley felt tears tickle at the corners of his eyes. If he wasn't being held up by Gabriel and Aziraphale he was sure he would have hit the ground. He couldn't even feel his legs.

It took him a belated moment to realize the reason that Castiel had shown up. He looked over at the hunter who had spoken his son's name. He hadn't even been trying to call out to Castiel, he'd just said his name, and now he was here.

Oh Go… Sa… Somebody, his son had gone and fallen in love with a bloody hunter of all things!

He was snapped into focus by the sound of Castiel's voice.

"What's going on, Dean?" he asked the hunter.

Crowley groaned. Of course, it wasn't bad enough that Castiel had to fall in love with a mortal hunter, he'd managed to fall in love with Michael's true vessel.

Dean shook his head, to indicate he had no idea. Castiel turned toward Gabriel, and his parents, his eyes were slightly glowing.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, Castiel's voice was layered with power.

Crowley realized that Castiel was probably meaning to threaten them, but all he wanted to do was rush forward and hug the angel. It was his son, his son who he hadn't seen in 2000 years, standing right in front of him.

"Castiel," he whispered, his voice breaking.

The angel turned the full weight of his gaze onto the demon in front of him. Crowley felt Aziraphale's grip tighten on his arm, probably because he was worried that Crowley would try to rush forward to the angel and the already precarious situation would become worse.

Castiel's gaze then passed to Aziraphale, his eyes widened.

"Aziraphale?" He asked. "What are you doing here?"

Crowley's angel smiled.

"Hello, Castiel," Aziraphale said.

Dean looked between the two angels in confusion.

"You know this guy, Cas?"

Castiel looked over at Dean. "Yeah, he was my supervisor, in heaven before…." He trailed off.

"Before I stopped the Apocalypse," Aziraphale finished. "And the Archangels tried to have me destroyed."

Dean's mouth dropped open. The other hunter was studying Aziraphale with something close to admiration.

"How did you survive Archangels trying to kill you?'" Dean asked.

Aziraphale's cheeks turned red. Crowley smiled at the angel. He opened his mouth to create an explanation, but Castiel beat him to it.

"Aziraphale's immune to Hellfire," his son explained.

That wasn't exactly true. Aziraphale had only seemed immune to hellfire, because he and Crowley had switched corporations so that the two of them would be able to survive their bosses' wrath. The same was true for Crowley, he wasn't actually immune to holy water, but all of Hell thought he was, and had thought that for twenty years, there was no way he was changing their minds now [1]

"Okay, so, now we've got an Archangel, a fugitive of heaven..."

Aziraphale huffed. "I'm not a fugitive, they all agreed to leave me alone!"

"… And, a yellow eyed demon," Dean finished.

Crowley raised an eyebrow above his glasses, only to realize that he wasn't wearing his glasses. He snapped his fingers and they appeared on his face.

"What does the colour of my eyes have to do with anything?" Crowley asked.

"Are you working for Azazel?" The taller hunter asked.

Crowley turned a glare on him.

"That wanker? Why would I be working for him ? Isn't he dead?" He said, highly offended.

He found his feet, well, not actually since he didn't actually have feet, cursed to crawl on his belly and all that, and took a step forwards toward the offending hunter.

Aziraphale held him back.

"I'll have you know," Crowley hissed. "I am the Serpent of Eden, who tempted Eve to take the forbidden fruit and caused the fall of man."

The taller hunter took a step back. Dean's mouth dropped open. Castiel's eyebrows dipped in confusion.

"So, you're the demon Crowley, the one that helped Aziraphale prevent Arrmeggedon?" Castiel asked.

Crowley sighed and turned his gaze back toward his son.

"Yesssss."

Castiel looked between the demon, and the angel who was still holding his hand and arm. Dean seemed to be studying them too.

"Are you…" he said, leaving the end unspoken, but they all knew what he was trying to say.

Gabriel clapped, breaking the silence.

"Okay," the Archangel said. "Can't stand around here all day, everyone, get in the car!"

He snapped and, before they all knew what to say, they were crammed into the Impala. Dean was in the driver's seat, Sam was in the passenger's seat, and Castiel was crammed between the twins in the back. Aziraphale on Crowley's other side.

They definitely should not have fit normally.

"So," Gabriel said, leaning forward. "Where to?"

Dean clenched the steering wheel in front of him. Castiel glared at Gabriel. It was cute, how angry he was. It reminded Crowley a bit of how he used to react when Aziraphale called him "nice."

I'm not nice! Nice is a four letter word!

Crowley tried hard to suppress a grin. The way Castiel's eyebrows dipped in irritation was very Aziraphale.

"My apartment?" Gabriel asked.

Dean opened his mouth to say something but Gabriel snapped his fingers and the car started up and began to drive without a single urge from the older Winchester.

"Yeah," Gabriel said, answering his question himself. "I think that's the best idea."

They began to drive away, as they did, the car, for some weird reason began to play Queen. Crowley groaned.

Ooh, ooh yeah, ooooh yeah

Get your party gown

Get your pigtail down

Get your heart beatin' baby

Got my timin' right

Got my act all tight

It's gotta be tonight my little

School babe [2]

Gabriel turned to his brother with a grin.

"What?" he asked when he saw Crowley's face.

"The music," Crowley said.

"Oh, I didn't do that, that's just playing whatever's in."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. He definitely didn't believe his brother.

"Really? Then why is it Queen?" He asked.

Gabriel shrugged. "Dean likes Queen?"

"Give me control of my car back!" the older Winchester said.

"No," Gabriel declared.

Notes:

11 All this to say that I really like the ending of the show, so even though this is clearly working with the timeline from the book (a 1990 Arrmeggedon), I'm still going with the show's ending. You're probably already noticed that I made Crowley a red head, it's not that I'm necessarily going with the movie designs for the characters, I just always pictured them very similar to what is shown in the show. [return to text]

22 "Tie Your Mother Down" by Queen (1976, Album A Day at The Races) [return to text]

So, hopefully I've got these footnotes done right, I'm going to be going back through previous chapters and coding those too. Thank you to dandelionqueen for helping me to figure this out! Also, thank you to anyone who commented, kudos, read, or interacted with this fic in any way. The support its getting makes me so excited! Over 2000 hits!

Chapter 11: Chapter 7

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

America, 2010 AD

The car drove itself through the night until it arrived in front of a brick front building and neatly parked in a legal parking space. With a snap of Raphael's [1] fingers all angels, demons, and hunters were standing on the sidewalk in front of the building.

Crowley yawned. He had one arm draped over Aziraphale's shoulders and his head on the angel's golden curls.

Dean studied them from where he was standing behind them. There was something very casual about the way the demon was leaning on the angel. Castiel had mentioned that Aziraphale and Crowley had stopped the Apocalypse together; he wondered if that had something to do with it. It definitely had something to do with the reason Raphael had brought them with him.

Raphael started walking toward the door, and the demon and angel followed him.

"Hold up a minute," Dean heard Sam say. "You think we're just going to trust you, like that?"

Raphael turned around. "Well," he said. "You're the ones who wanted my help in the first place."

"That was before you brought a demon with you," Dean said roughly.

"Hey," Crowley said, he turned around, but Dean noticed he didn't look at him when he spoke, but at Castiel. "We want to help. We want the world to stay turning just as much as you lot do, and Gabriel said you could use our help, so excuse me for coming all the way here, I could have stayed nice and happy in my cottage and left you to deal with all this shit."

The angel, Aziraphael, placed an arm around the demon's shoulders then whispered something to him. He hung his head, then placed it on the angel's shoulder.

"What Crowley is trying to say is that we just want to help," the angel said. "And I'm sorry if our methods are not what you're used to. It's been awhile since we've had anything to do with heaven or hell, and my husband is just worried."

Dean's brain exploded.

My husband is just worried.

He felt his mouth drop open. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam raise an eyebrow and Cas make an adorably confused face. Raphael smirked.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?" Aziraphale asked.

"Angel," Crowley said, chuckling.. "I think they didn't realize we're married."

"But… surely that doesn't warrant such a reaction?" The angel seemed genuinely confused.

"Love," Crowley said. "I think they're just surprised that a demon and an angel could commit themselves to a l ong term relationship. "

Aziraphale's mouth opened wide in a "oh," of recognition.

"Let's go inside," Raphael said.

He opened the door and they all stepped inside. Dean was a little surprised by his feet moving, but, if he was truly honest, he had to see where all this went. Before he went inside he grabbed a bottle of holy water and holy oil. It never hurt anyone to be careful.

Gabriel led them inside the flat. Crowley wasn't surprised to see that it was bigger on the inside. Gabriel was always a show off, even back in heaven. He always had his perfect mask, a mask he'd only rarely taken off to show just how much he was hurting.

Gabriel miracled a bottle of beer for both the Winchesters, wine for Crowley, and a hot cocoa for both himself and Azirphale. Crowley rolled his eyes. Gabriel had always been a sucker for sweets.

He offered them a seat. He and Aziraphale sat down on a loveseat, Gabriel took an armchair and the Winchesters and Cas all sat on the couch. That's when he noticed Cas was the only one without a drink.

"Do you want something, Castiel?" He asked. Hearing the name come out of his mouth made his heart pause for a second. Castiel was there, right in front of him. He'd told himself a million times that he was never going to get to see his son again, and yet, here they were, and here Castiel was.

The angel shook his head. "Everything just tastes like molecules," he replied.

Crowley saw Aziraphale grunt. He smirked. He wondered how long the angel had known that Castiel was adverse to eating. It clearly wasn't news to him.

"He's like you, dearest," Aziraphale replied.

Crowley knew that the angel was blaming him for their son's lack of delight in food, which he was fine with, more than fine with. He had to suppress a wild grin.

"I get where you're coming from, but usually drinking isn't like that." He said.

Okay, so he could technically taste just molecules unless he really focused, but it was only because, as the Archangel who had created plants, he knew the exact makeup of everything that he was eating. Gabriel didn't have that problem because he'd stuck mostly to helping God with the animals. Well, only the very weird ones.

Castiel shrugged.

Crowley noticed that Dean was watching him intently. He glared at the hunter. Crowley couldn't see what Castiel saw in him. He was just another annoying pest of a human who tried to stick his nose where it didn't belong. Then, of course, there was the whole Michael thing.

Aziraphale watched the whole conversation as he sipped at the cocoa in his hand.

"So," the taller hunter, who he was pretty sure was Sam Winchester, the younger brother, and Luci's true vessel, began. "What exactly is going on?"

Gabriel shrugged.

"You asked for help."

"And you told us exactly where we could put it," Dean said. "What changed your mind?"

Gabriel looked over at Crowley who took a drink from the wine bottle in his hand.

"My brother," Gabriel said casually.

Dean narrowed his eyes. Sam looked between Crowley and the youngest Archangel. He looked back at Crowley again, then back at Castiel, who's eyebrows had dipped low in confusion.

"But… well…" Castiel tried.

Aziraphale smiled, encouragingly.

"But, well, clearly you didn't speak with Michael or Lucifer, so the only other option would be Gabriel and he definitely…"

Crowley's grip on his bottle tightened at the mention of that Gabriel.

Get in the fire and die already!

He was going to kill that sorry excuse for an Archangel. That sorry excuse for a replacement for his brother.

"I lied," Gabriel said. "I'm… I'm not Raphael."

Dean glared at him.

"Then who the hell are you?" he asked.

"Gabriel," the trickster said, unfazed.

Castiel shook his head. "You can't be Gabriel, Gabriel is--"

"A dick," Crowley stated.

"Hey!" Gabriel exclaimed.

"Not you, the replacement you in heaven, the one Castiel knows."

"Oh, right…" the youngest Archangel said. "Yeah, he's definitely a dick."

"So," Sam said. "You're saying you're the real Archangel Gabriel, and that they have a replacement for you walking around in heaven?"

"Yup," he said, nodding.

"So, who's Raphael?" Dean asked.

Gabriel turned to look at the demon on the loveseat, who paused in taking another drink. The eyes of two hunters and an angel turned on him.

" You're an Archangel?" Dean said.

Crowley downed another gulp.

"Don't act so surprised," he shot back.

Dean's mouth dropped open. He shook his head.

"Give me a minute, I need to process all of this."

Crowley shrugged. "Take all the time you need."

Notes:

11 if it's not Gabriel, Crowley, or Aziraphale's POV I will remind you the Team Free Will thinks Gabriel is Raphael.[return to text]

Some of you might have noticed the new tags. I've been debating whether or not to use them, or if I was, when to put them up, but since I was just writing a scene in the draft that both of these apply to, I thought I would to that now. It won't be coming until chapter 13 though (chapter 20 according to the Archives).

Chapter 12: Interlude

Chapter Text

The Globe, 1601 AD

Crowley sighed as he walked toward the entrance to the Globe. As much as he relished the times he got to see Aziraphale he wished that the angel had looked more closely at the date before setting up the meeting. It was Castiel's birthday, and that was the very last day he would want to have a meeting with Aziraphale on, but here he was doing it.

He walked into the theater. He tried to open the gate but it wouldn't budge at first. He looked over it until he found the way it opened then walked toward the angel who was quite obviously standing in the center of the floor.

"I thought you said we'd be inconspicuous here?" He hissed, looking around at the practically empty floor.

Aziraphale looked over at him sheepishly.

Crowley noticed Shakespear walking toward them, but tried as hard as he could to ignore the man. He was still mad at himself for getting drunk and spilling his soul to the playwright. The bard hadn't even had the decency to keep it to himself, but used what Crowley had told him to write some stupid love story where the main characters had committed suiside at the end. Romeo and Juliet was still new enough that Crowley was angry at the man.

The demon muttered something under his breath. Shakespear seemed intrigued, Crowley had no doubt that he was going to steal another thing from him for his nasty plays. Technically he should have been happy about that, stealing was a sin after all, and he was a demon, but he wasn't.

When he and Aziraphale finally got to business he was relieved. Really, all he wanted to do was get utterly wasted at some bar, maybe perform some kind of demonic act that would make someone else feel the way he was feeling.

He did not want to go to Scotland.

He flicked the coin in the air and with a slight twitch of his eyebrow he made sure that it would land in his favor.

"Looks like you're going to Scotland, angel," he replied.

He wanted to leave, but he also wanted to stand next to Aziraphale, who had a look in his eyes that made the demon's heart want to burst.

It would take a miracle to make this play a success.

It didn't matter who had said it. Aziraphale gave him a pleading look.

Crowley let out a breath. That was exactly the opposite of the kind of act he wanted to do.

"Fine, angel, I'll do this one," he said, walking away. "But I still prefer the funny ones."

And so what if Crowley also made sure that one of Shakespear's plays would be lost for all time? He was a demon after all.

Chapter 13: Chapter 8

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Heaven, 2010 AD

"Raphael was here and you didn't stop him?" Michael hissed.

Not-Gabriel sheepishly bowed his head and nodded. "They said he was in the records hall, but when I went in he wasn't there."

Michael groaned. She was among those, consisting of God, the Metatron, Raphael himself, and Lucifer, who knew that the Archangel of healing had Fallen long ago. She wasn't going to tell Not-Gabriel that though.

How had a Fallen angel gotten into heaven and convinced the Archivists to let him in?

"Did he take anything?" she asked.

"I… don't know," Gabriel replied.

She ground her teeth together.

At that moment one of the archivists, a virtue if Michael wasn't wrong, came up to Gabriel and Michael.

"Umm, sir," she said carefully. "We have some files missing from the Archives."

Michael let out a long, heavy sigh of irritation.

"What are you missing?" Not-Gabriel asked, ignoring the much more powerful Archangel next to him.

"We're missing all the files on the angel Castiel, and four files on the Principality Aziraphale."

Michael glared at her.

"What did you say?"

She repeated herself.

Micahel swore under her breath.

Things would have been a lot easier if the holy water had destroyed her brother once and for all. She'd be a lot more comfortable if the once Archangel had been decreased to nothing except a grease spot in that bathtub.

"Michael?" Gabriel asked.

"Send Zachariah and Sandolphin to earth, tell them to find my vessel and bring it to me on the ground floor."

Not-Gabriel's mouth fell open.

"Now…?"

" Yes, NOW!"

Not-Gabriel jumped. The archivist stepped away from the two Archangels.

"Don't you think you're overreacting a bit?" Gabriel asked.

Michael grabbed the front of Gabriel's shirt.

" He knows. He's collecting information on the current Apocalypse, and, unless you want to have to fight two Archangels, and a meddling Principality as well as the Devil , we're doing this now!"

Michael dropped Not-Gabriel He nodded, then turned to retrieve the two angels and send them out.

America, 2010 AD

"Okay," Dean said. "So, you're ," he pointed at Gabriel. "The Archangel Gabriel, not Raphael, and you ran away from heaven. And you're ," he pointed at Crowley, "A fallen angel, who just so happened to be Raphael."

"Yup," Crowley said, popping the p.

"And you're married to an angel… who used to be Castiel's boss…"

"Essentially, my dear," Aziraphale replied, nodding.

"And you want to help us prevent the apocalypse?" Sam asked, getting to the point.

"Yes," both angels and the demon said.

"I need some air," Dean said, getting up.

He walked outside of Gabriel's door. Castiel's eyes followed him. The angel turned back toward the room and studied his old boss and his husband. He remembered the last time he'd seen Aziraphale. The apocalypse had been beginning, the angel had appeared in the lobby of heaven where the war preparations had been going down, clearly shaken.

The angel who had been tasked with preparing the hosts, a Seraphim called Anderson, had yelled at Aziraphale about how he didn't have a body. The angel had replied by insisting that he had to get back to earth. At the insistence that he couldn't without a body, Aziraphale had walked over to the globe in the center of the room. When Anderson insisted that he couldn't possess one of them . Aziraphael had asked why not? After all, demons can , before touching the globe and being pulled back to the earthly plain.

He resented him for it, Aziraphale's discovery that angels could in fact possess people, if they had their permission, had landed them all in the mess they were in now. Had put Dean in danger.

But he could now understand why Aziraphale was the angel who had discovered what he had. If there was any angel who was going to realize that demons and angels were essentially the same and could, essentially, do the same things, it would be an angel in love with a demon.

Odd though, that Aziraphale had managed to fall in love with that particular demon. Castiel was kind of shocked by how similar Crowley's corporation, for it was a corporation, even though Castiel was sure Hell had discontinued offering corporations for anyone lower than a duke back during biblical times, looked a lot like Castiel's own first corporation.

"So," Sam said, breaking Castiel's musings. "What's your plan?"

"Well," Crowley said. "We haven't known about this until today, so, what is your plan?"

"Well," Sam began. "Me and Dean were going to find the Colt and use it to stop Lucifer."

"That won't work," both Gabriel and Crowley said at the same time.

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"Well," Aziraphale began. "There are seven-- on no, I guess six now," he looked over at Crowley. "Beings the Colt can't kill, and all of the four highest Archangels apply."

Sam looked over at Cas.

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" He asked.

Cas cleared his throat. "I didn't know."

"So we're back to square zero," Sam replied.

"Not quite," Gabriel said. "We still have two Archangels on our side."

Dean leaned against the wall of the house letting out a heavy breath. If he'd thought he'd begun to get used to the crazy whirlwind of his life he was very, very wrong. He was standing outside the apartment of the Archangel Gabriel which was currently inhabited by the Serpent of Eden who was, not in fact, Lucifer, but Raphael, and the angel of the eastern gate, who were married.

Dean sighed.

A figure on the street caught his eye. It was a balding older man that, if he didn't know better, would have looked to Dean like Zachariah.

He stepped forward.

"Can I help you?" Dean asked.

"Yes, Dean, you can," he said.

Dean's heart stopped in his chest. It was Zachariah.

He felt pain in the side of his head and his vision swam. He collapsed to the ground, the world spun around him. The man walked toward him, another man, with a gold tooth in front of his mouth, stood beside him.

"Is he out?" Zachariah asked.

Dean groaned and moved to reach for the knife at his belt. Before he could, he was clubbed over the head once more and he blacked out, crumpling completely.

Notes:

Hello everyone! the plot is really starting to thicken here! Also, bonus points to anyone who can find the BBC Sherlock reference I stuck in there! Poor Dean, what's gonna happen? Surely he won't say yes? Also, further bonus points if you recognize the Good Omens reference there at the end...

Chapter 14: Chapter 9

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

America, 2010 AD

"What will that do for us?" Sam asked. "No offence, but things seem to be over most of our heads. And… Gabriel… you seemed kind of freaked last time we talked."

"I've done a lot of thinking since then." Gabriel said. He snapped his fingers and a chocolate bar appeared in his hand. "And I think, with the help of another angel, I could be able to defeat Michael."

"But that's back to square one," Sam replied. "If two Archangels have an all out battle here on earth, half the world will be destroyed."

Gabriel nodded.

"But not if the fight goes down in heaven," Aziraphale said. "If the fight happens outside of this plain of existence then it won't harm the earth, not in any unusual way…"

"What do you mean, 'not in any unusual way?'" the younger Winchester demanded.

"He means this," Crowley said, leaning forward. "If two Archangels battle it out in heaven then earth will have some odd weather. If Gabriel and Michael fight then there might be some intense desert wind storms, and forest fires here on earth. If Lucifer and I fight in hell, then I'd imagine we might have some intense floods and earthquakes…"

"How do you know what phenomena would be present?" Castiel asked.

"Each of the original four Archangels are associated with one of the elements," Gabriel explained. "I'm air, Raphie's earth, Michael's fire, and Luci's water."

Aziraphale looked over at Crowley, his face breaking into a grin. "That's why you like plants so much!"

"Ngk," the demon said.

Aziraphale leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek. The demon's face turned scarlet. Sam watched the exchange, it was odd, seeing a demon and an angel together. Sam had had his fill of trusting demons, but he could tell that this pair trusted and loved each other greatly. The younger Winchester turned toward Crowley.

"So, could you do it?"

"Do what?" Crowley asked.

"Could you take out Lucifer?"

"Not alone," He said. "Lucifer and I may be more evenly matched than Gabriel and Michael, but he's still the devil, and I'm not even your local councillor."

Castiel stood up and walked toward the window. Sam ignored him, he was used to the angel acting odd by now.

"So, you would need a demon, someone who could enter hell with you and help you take out the devil," Sam concluded.

Crowley nodded.

Sam watched Aziraphale pale, he didn't know why, the angel looked over at Crowley.

"You're not thinking…" he began.

Crowley nodded, then looked over at the window where Castiel was standing, staring.

"Castiel…" he broke off. "What are you doing?"

The angel turned around, there was terror in his eyes.

"Dean's… Dean's not out there."

Sam shot up from the couch and ran over to the window to look out, sure enough, Dean was gone. He ran toward Gabriel's door and sprinted down the walkway, looking around for his brother. He heard Castiel walk out behind him.

The Impala was still parked out front, so Dean couldn't have driven away. Sam looked up and down the road but couldn't see Dean in either direction.

"DEAN!" he called.

Castiel bent over the sidewalk and stood up, scarlet blood dripped off his fingertips. Sam felt his stomach clench.

Castiel looked over at Gabriel, Crowley, and Aziraphale who were all leaving the building.

"I think," Castiel said. "I think something's happened to Dean."

Lobby of Heaven and Hell, 2010 AD

Dean opened his eyes, everything felt off. There was a bright white light all around him and what looked like escalators in front of him. He tried to move and found that both his hands and feet were bound by something.

"Hello, Dean," a woman's voice said, behind him.

He craned his neck to try to see her, but there was no one there. When he turned back he saw a woman standing in front of him in a grey suit with a white scarf and brown hair in a ridiculous style on her head. She smiled.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked.

She smiled wider.

"I'm the Archangel Michael, leader of the armies of the Lord," she replied.

Dean looked at her closely.

"You're lying," he spat. She smiled.

"I assure you, I am not."

"But… Michael's… Michael's a guy!"

"I'm an angel, we are not restricted by normal gender rules, we can be any gender and no gender." She smiled further, the look on her face made Dean's heart clench in fear. "Right now, my corporation is female, soon, my vessel will be male."

She gave him a pointed look. Dean knew what she wanted. She wanted him to agree to be her vessel. Did she really think that kidnapping him would get a more positive answer out of him than previously?

"I'll never be your damn vessel, you bitch," he shot back.

She frowned at him.

"I think you will, Dean Winchester, because if you do not, I will, personally, torture your brother, then shut the gates of heaven to his soul."

Dean felt his heart pound faster in his chest. Could she really do that? Could she really keep Sam out of heaven? Would he be forced to roam the earth as a spirit? Or would he be sent to hell?

Dean opened his mouth, not knowing what he was going to say, then he remembered.

She couldn't do that, she couldn't kill Sam because she wanted this fight as much as Lucifer did, and it couldn't happen unless they both had their vessels.

"You can't kill Sam, not if you want your fight with Lucifer to go as it should."

She made a face at this, then nodded. Then smiled.

"Oh, but Sam was just the low hanging fruit, wasn't he?" She asked. "Because there is someone who means more to you than your brother. Someone, that I could wipe off the face of the earth with a snap of my fingers, or, better yet, kill him slowly and painfully, and make you watch."

Dean's heart started to beat faster, there was no way, no way she could possibly know… no way… no way…

"And I'll do just that, unless you agree to be my vessel."

Don't say it, Dean pleaded. Be wrong, don't say his name…

"Unless you agree to be my vessel, Dean Wichester, I will torture the love of your life before your eyes, then throw him into hellfire, there is no coming back from that, not even with the power of God in your hands. Unless you agree to be my vessel, I will destroy the angel Castiel."

Dean's heart stopped. She knew, she really knew, and he knew she would do it, there was nothing preventing her. If she knew that Castiel was working with them, that he loved Castiel, then she would know that the angel had betrayed heaven so that they could stop the apocalypse.

"If I agree…" Dean said, defeated. "You won't hurt Castiel?"

Her smile widened, she knew she had won.

"No, Dean, I won't, I swear."

He looked her in the eyes, then took a deep breath.

"I give you permission to use me as your vessel," he stated.

Her smile widened, her eyes glowed, then light was all around him and Dean had to close his eyes. When they opened again, they weren't his anymore.

Notes:

Well, Zofo, did Dean take your advice?

Oh boy, I am totally enjoying writing this fic! Things are starting to heat up!

Also, interlude this Friday, and I'm skipping Paris, so you know what that means!

Chapter 15: Interlude

Notes:

I teared up a little editing this...

Chapter Text

St. James Park, London 1862 AD

Crowley watched as the scrap of paper burned, the words 'holy water' written clearly across it. He didn't look up. He couldn't understand why Aziraphale would refuse, holy water would allow him to protect himself if any demons came knocking, and it wouldn't be able to hurt those he cared about as they were both angels.

Sure, the liquid could hurt him, but weren't risks worth taking? He was smarter than to let himself get killed with holy water. He was better than that.

He sighed. It seemed there was something missing in his friendship with Aziraphale. The angel didn't trust him as much as he trusted his angel.

That was fine. At least he told himself it was fine.

It wasn't though, it really wasn't, because if he didn't have Aziraphale's trust it was because of what he had doen in 33 AD that had left the angel with a mess to clean up and a baby he could never have wanted.

It was true, Aziraphale shouldn't trust him. He was a demon after all.

Soho, London 1862 AD

Aziraphale couldn't stop the rushing of his heart as he ran back to the bookshop, as soon as he was in the door he could feel his whole body shaking. Crowley wanted holy water. Crowley wanted a suicide pill. Crowley wanted to be able to end his life.

Aziraphale slid down the door, he could feel hot tears running down his face.

What would make Crowley want to end his life? Aziraphale had been happy. Although he was terrified about what might happen if their respective sides found out, he liked the Arrangement, he liked being around Crowley. He liked being able to see Crowley more often. He liked Crowley.

No, he more than liked Crowley, he loved him. Had loved him for nearly six thousand years, ever since he realised how different Crowley was from any other demon.

Now Crowley wanted to end himself. Why?

Was it because of what had happened back so many years ago? Was this about Castiel? Aziraphale was a fool, of course it was about Castiel. The angel had been an idiot and had done something he should never have, and had gotten Crowley pregnant in the process, and now he couldn't handle life any more.

Crowley wanted a suicide pill and it was all Aziraphale's fault.

He felt a presence in the room and looked up to see an angel standing there, one he didn't know.

Then he noticed her wings and realised that he did know her.

"Aziraphale, what's wrong?" Castiel asked.

The principality tried to smile, but he couldn't. He also couldn't tell his child that the love of his life had just asked him to give him a tool so that he could commit suicide becuse he couldn't cope with them having been born. Even if he could tell Castiel he was his father that would not have gone down well.

"A… friend of mine… tried to kill themself."

Castiel seemed confused.

"Why would they do that?" she asked.

"I don't know," Aziraphale lied, he placed his head on his knees as tears began to fall harder and harder. "I… I can't stand it!"

Castiel sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulder. It hurt as much as it made him feel better. He wanted to be able to hold Castiel like a father should be able to hold their child, but he couldn't, he couldn't give this angel any special treatment. He couldn't love her, for her own good.

The principality began to cry harder.

Chapter 16: Chapter 10

Notes:

(Enter Lucifer)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Carthage, Missouri, 2010 AD

Lucifer felt it, the moment Michael got her true vessel, and swore. He was already at work rasing Death, after the stupid Antichrist had imprissoned him, he had to free Azreal from his prison and it took a lot of work, there was no way he could devote time to getting Sam to say yes, at the moment.

He heard the growl of hell hounds behind him and turned to see Meg standing between two of the black and white beasts[1].

"What is it?" He asked.

"I have news that Michael…" the demon began.

"Yes," Lucifer hissed. "I know."

He turned back around and continued his work, piling the bodies in the mass grave. If he wanted even a chance at beating his brother (sister? At this point he wasn't sure) he would have to have all four horsemen on his side, and the time was approaching when he would be able to raise Azrael from where he had been trapped.

"Go, Meg," he ordered as he moved another body into place.

America, 2010 AD

Crowley looked over at Gabriel, he could tell the younger Archangel felt it too. Angels had been there. Angels had taken Dean. Michael was going to get him. They could only hope that the older Winchester was strong enough to not say yes.

"We have to go after him," Castiel said, glaring at the blood on his hands before looking back at the others.

"We… we can't, Castiel," Aziraphale said, gently, stepping toward the angel.

Castiel glared at him, his eyes glowing blue with Grace for a moment.

"Why not?" He asked. "Dean's in trouble."

"Because that will only weaken us more," Crowley supplied. "If we go after Dean then heaven will know what we're doing."

Castiel considered this. He studied the demon in front of him.

"I'm not going to abandon him, he's… he's my friend."

He sounds like me, Crowely thought. Back before I got the courage to tell Aziraphale what he meant to me, after I thought he'd died.

The angel stood.

"So, if we can't go after Dean, what are we going to do?"

Gabriel screamed and fell to the ground, hands over his ears. It took a second but Crowley felt it too. Angel radio. He hadn't been tuned into that since the fall, and Aziraphale hadn't since the Nopageddon.

Lucifer, Michael said. Lucifer, I know you can hear this, only the Archangels can… I know you know I have my vessel.

Castiel cried out at this almost as if he could hear what was going on too.

Wait a minute, Crowley realised. Castiel might not be of Archangel rank, but he is half Archangel, I bet he can hear this.

Come to me Lucifer, let's end this. Michael said.

Come to me, you coward, Lucifer's voice replied.

Suddenly Crowley could see a map in his mind's eye, a location printed in bright red on it. CARTHAGE, MISSOURI.

The pain went away and he opened his eyes to see Azirphale leaning over him, holding him up.

"Crowley," he said gently. "Love, are you okay?"

Crowley nodded.

"Archangel Radio," he said hoarsely.

Crowley looked up to see Gabriel finding his feet. Castiel was sitting on the ground staring into space.

"We have to go to Missouri," the youngest Archangel said.

Crowley climbed to his feet with Aziraphale's help and stared at Gabriel in surprise.

"You want us to go where Lucifer is?" Crolwey asked. "With him, " he pointed toward Sam.

"Well, clearly Lucifer is up to something, and if we do nothing then things could get out of our hands!" Gabriel shot back. "And anyway, as long as Sam doesn't say 'yes' then we'll be fine."

Castiel stood up. "Michael has Dean," he murmured. "Dean said yes."

Sam looked between the two Archangels and Castiel.

"So, you all got some kind of message on… angel radio?" He asked.

"Yes," Castiel replied with a nod. "It seems that Michael now has Dean as their vessel and Lucifer is up to something."

Sam looked at Aziraphale. "Why didn't you get whatever this message was?"

"Oh me? Well, I can't get Archangel radio since I'm not an Archangel."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Neither is Cas."

Crowley watched Aziraphale's eyes widened. He looked over at Crowley, then at Castiel, seeming to realise what was going on.

The demon nodded.

"Cas is… different," Gabriel supplied, by way of explanation.

"That doesn't matter right now," Crowley interjected. "What matters is that unless we do something now , Armageddon will happen again, and there's no way to prevent it. We need to go to Carthage now."

"Then let's go," Sam said.

"Not you," Crowley declared.

"Why not me?" Sam demanded. "I'm as much a part of this team as you are, more a part of it, actually!"

"No, Crowley's right," Castiel said. "You have to stay here, Sam. That is the only way to keep you safe, and far away from Lucifer."

"No," the youngest Winchester said. "I'm coming with you." He glared at the three angels and the demon around him. "You're not just going to leave me behind! "

"Well," Gabriel said. "We really don't have time to argue with him about this right now. Let's just go."

They all climbed into the Impala. Crowley, after much protest from Sam to the contrary, in the front seat. As soon as he started the car, music bagan, mid song:

Would you like to see?

Now listen all you people

Put out the good and keep the bad

Don't believe all you read in the Bible

You sinners get in line

Saints you leave far behind

Very soon you're gonna be his disciple

Don't listen to what mama says

Not a word not a word mama says

Or else you'll find yourself being the rival

The great Lord before He died

Knelt sinners by his side[2]

Crowley groaned.

Carthage, Missouri, 2010 AD

The Impala drove into Carthage. Crowley looked down at the screen of his phone, there was something wrong, something that should not have been able to be wrong. His phone always had a signal, even on the moon, even on Alpha Centauri (which he had tried).

"Are you getting a signal?" Sam asked, seeing the phone.

"No, nothing," Crowley replied. "Nice and spooky," the demon said, smirking at Aziraphale.

"I thought you like spooky," the angel replied.

"Yeah, Big spooky fan, me."

"Maybe we should check out the local P.D.," Sam said. "I can go."

"I'll go with you," Gabriel said, with a snap of the Archangel's fingers the two of them were out of the car on the sidewalk leaving Crowley, Aziraphale, and Castiel together to survey the land.

The three of them drove deeper into the town. None of them were talking. All of them worried about what was to come. Crowley was especially worried about how Castiel might react if he saw Michael-as-Dean.

Castiel leaned forward to look out the windshield. Suddenly, with the sound of wingbeats, he teleported from the car into the streat Crowley slammed on the break and he and Aziraphale climbed out to stand on either side of their son.

"Cas, what is it?" Aziraphale asked.

Castiel studied him, surprise evident on his face. "You can't see it?" He asked.

"See what?" the demon on the other side of him demanded.

"This town's not empty, Reapers."

Aziraphale was the first to open his third eye, but Crowley quickly followed, and suddenly they could see it too. Reapers, dozens of them, all over the roads, all staring toward one building.

"They only gather like this in times of great catastrophe," Castiel said. "Chicago fire, San Francisco quake, Pompeii."

He stepped forward, toward the building they were staring at.

"Cassss," Crowley hissed. "What are you doing?"

"You continue to check the town," Castiel said. "I need to find out why they're here."

Castiel walked away from them, though the reapers, Crowley moved to follow but Aziraphale grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"I know you're worried, dearest," Aziraphale said. "But he knows what he's doing."

Crowley was rooted to the spot, watching his son leave him. Again.

Notes:

11 I'm picturing hell hounds as looking like Dog (before he became tiny) in Good Omens since there is a definite images of them there and they're invisible in Supernatural [return to text]

11 "Great King Rat," Queen (1973, Self-Titled Album)[return to text]

Chapter 17: Chapter 11

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Carthage, Missouri, 2010 AD

Castiel walked slowly through the reapers, they just stood there, dressed in black, dead eyed, staring straight ahead, unmoving. He looked around him, then above him, and noticed a man in the window. A reaper in the window. The man turned from where he was watching Castiel. With a thought the angel took his place.

He followed where the man had gone, down a darkened hall.

He walked past a couple doors and peered through the darkness, but even with his heightened angelic abilities he couldn't see anything.

"Hello, brother," a man's voice echoed around him.

Fire flared up in a circle of bright light. Castiel was trapped.

After a round around the town, Crowley and Aziraphale stopped in front of the Police Department, which Sam and Gabriel were walking out of.

"Station's empty," Sam reported.

"We didn't see anyone in the rest of the town either," Aziraphale replied.

"Have you seen Cas?" Crowley asked, worried.

"What?" Gabriel demanded. "He was with you!"

Crowley felt his heart clench. Surly Cas would have found at least one of them by now.

"He went to see about the reapers," Aziraphale explained. "It's been awhile, we thought you would have seen him."

"You saw reapers," Sam asked.. "Where?"

"Everywhere," Crowley replied, looking meaningfully at Gabriel..

The other Archangel froze. "You don't mean…"

"Maybe," Aziraphale replied. "We can't know, not until we find Cas."

"Well, let's go find him," Gabriel said. With a snap of his fingers he and Sam were back in the car. "Let's go back to where you saw him last."

Crowley was eager to comply.

Castiel looked around him at the fire he was surrounded by. burning holy oil, an angels' trap. He was stuck, and whoever had set it had known he was coming. He looked around him, and finally saw the figure, standing in the shadows.

"Lucifer," he murmured, realising the truth.

"So I take it you're here with the Winchesters, or, no, Winchest er ," he said, emphasising the singular. "Michael's got your little boyfriend hasn't he?"

"I came alone," Castiel lied.

"Loyalty," Lucifer mused. "Hmm. Such a nice quality to see in this day and age."

The devil studied the angel in the flames.

"Castiel, right? Angel of Thursday. Odd, I thought only Archangels were assigned days of the week."

The angel said nothing. Although inside him he was briefly wondering about that fact. Also, on the fact that he had been able to hear Archangel radio.

"Castiel, I'm told you came here in an automobile," Lucifer continued.

"Yes," the angel growled.

"What was that like?"

"Umm… slow," he replied. (which, considering who was driving, was a bit of a bold statement). "Confining."

"What a peculiar thing you are," Lucifer mused, now he was sensing out the angel's aura, just as Gabriel had.

Castiel studied the devil's face, seeing the marks of damage there.

"What's wrong with your vessel?' he asked.

"Yes, umm, Nick is wearing a bit thin, I'm afraid," the devil replied. "He can't contain me forever so–"

"You." Castiel began to threaten, then stepped toward the devil, forgetting the flames weren't there.

"No," the devil said, a note of command in his tone.

Castiel froze, something inside him pounded, as though fighting the devil's command.

"You are not taking Sam Winchester," he said instead. "I won't let you."

"Castiel," Lucifer began. "I don't understand why you're fighting me , of all the angels."

"You really have to ask?"

"I rebelled. I was cast out. You rebelled. You will be cast out. Almost all of heaven wants to see me dead. And if they succeed, guess what. You're their new public enemy number one. After all, you know what heaven tried to do to your friend out there. They'll do the same thing to you. Do you want to perish in hellfire?"

Castiel glared at him. But he had a point. He remembered the last Arrmeggedon. He remembered not wanting to fight in the war. He remembered the relief when it was finished. But he also remembered the Archangels' attempt to kill Aziraphale. Unlike the principality, that attempt would be a success on him.

"We're on the same side, like it or not." Lucifer continued. "So why not just serve your own best interests, which in this case, just happen to be mine?"

Castiel thought of the burning pain the hellfire would cause. Vanishing into oblivion to never return. But he also thought of Dean, and Sam, and Aziraphale, and, like it or not, Gabriel, and Crowley, and he knew that he could never take the "safe" way out, they were counting on him. He looked Lucifer dead in the eyes.

"I'll die first," he said.

Lucifer gave him one last chance to change his mind, sighed, turned, and spoke one last word.

"I suppose you will."

The car stopped in front of the building that Crowley and Aziraphale had seen Castiel enter. A woman stood in front of it, her arms crossed. Crowley noticed that she had a dozen hellhounds surrounding her. He grimaced. The only person he'd ever known to be able to stop a hellhound without a fight was Adam, and that was only because he was the antichrist.

"Meg!" Sam said. "What are you doing here, all alone?"

She smiled. "I'm not alone, Sammy, my father is here with me."

Crowley sucked in a breath. Although they had come here knowing Lucifer was going to be there, there was a difference between knowing it and being reminded of it.

"Get out of our way," Crowley heard Aziraphale say.

"Oh, and what makes you think I will?" She asked.

"Three angels and a hunter against one demon is not odds I'd take it I were you," Gabriel said.

Crowley was hit with a realisation, the others couldn't see the dogs!

Meg smiled. The dog beside her growled. Crowley saw Aziraphale's worried look out of the corner of his eye. Sam paled.

"I think you'll realise soon that the odds are in my favour, after all, I'm the only one here who can see them."

Crowley felt his heart rate pick up, she didn't recognise him! She didn't know he was Fallen. He shouldn't really be surprised. He hadn't been to Hell in twenty years, and even when he was on good terms with other demons he'd never interacted with human-soul ones. Never needed to.

"Get them, girls," Meg said.

The dog to her left leapt toward Aziraphale. Crowley jumped in front of his angel, opening his wings.

Seeing his actions, Gabriel snapped his fingers and the dog exploded, washing Crowley with hellhound guts.

Sam pulled a gun out and, at Crowley's instructions, began shooting the hellhounds. The ones Sam couldn't get, Gabriel did. The Messenger of God was much better at sensing out where the dogs were without Crowley's instruction than Sam was.

In a matter of minutes the area was littered with nothing but hellhound corpses. The demon, who Sam had called Meg, was gone.

Crowley stared down at his gore covered outfit and, with a snap of his fingers, all of it vanished.

"Why are they here?" Sam asked, running a hand across his forehead to wipe off sweat.

"Azreal," Crowley and Aziraphale said at the same time.

"Death?" Gabriel asked, clearly confused.

Crowley nodded.

"After the failed Apocalypse, Adam knew he couldn't kill Death, so he imprisoned him, like he did to his father. I think Lucifer wants to free him."

"It would explain the reapers," Aziraphale supplied.

"If tonight, at midnight, Lucifer performs the required sacrifice, then Death will be free and we'll be well into Armeggedon. When Death rides, the other three will come to meet him."

"So," Sam said. "We have to stop it from happening."

"Then we'll need a plan," Gabriel mused, rubbing his hands together.

Crowley glared at his brother, worried about what was coming. Most of the time Gabriel's plans worked, but they were always stupid elaborate.

Notes:

If Cas thinks Crowley's driving is slow, I wonder what he considers fast...

Chapter 18: Interlude

Notes:

I've been getting sloppy with the Interludes on Friday, sorry.

Chapter Text

London, 1941 AD

Aziraphale watched as Crowley made his way through the ruins of the church. He could feel it, like he'd never been able to, from Crowley, love. Did Crowley…? Was it possible that Crowley loved him?

He shook himself out of his stupor and followed the demon down toward a solid black car that seemed to be just outside the range of the blast. Crowley opened the passenger's side door and gestured for Aziraphale to climb in. The angel did as he was instructed.

Crowley then made his way toward the right side of the vehicle and climbed in behind the wheel. With a snap of his fingers the car started. Azirphale turned toward the demon, still gripping the case of books tight in his arms.

"Is this your car?" The angel asked.

The demon smiled, there was pride in the smile.

"Yeah," he said. "I bought her new in 1926."

Aziraphale hadn't seen Crowley since the incident with the holy water, and he had been worried that the demon had gone back to bed for all that time. It was a relief to know he'd been up and about.

"So," Crowley said, running his hands nervously over the steering wheel, studying the angel next to him, it made Aziraphale blush. "Should I drop you off at the bookshop?"

Crowley had never actually been into Azirphale's base of operations, but the angel knew he knew about it from the fact that he had showed up with chocolates on opening day.

"Of course, my dear," he said.

Crowley smiled and they began driving. He took it slow and careful until they reached right in front of the bookshop. He pulled into a parking space and let Aziraphale out of the car. The angel noticed that he walked as though in pain.

His feet! Azirapahle remembered.

"Crowley, dear, come on in with me."

Crowley followed him, still limping slightly. He sat down on the couch at Aziraphale's insistence. The angel pulled his shoes and socks off, then gasped at the severity of the burns. Why would Crowley do something like this for me?

Crowley wouldn't be able to heal the burns since they were holy and Aziraphale wouldn't be able to heal them because angels couldn't heal demons, so instead he miracled some ointment and bandages and a towel. After cleaning Crowley's feet he bandaged them.

"I think you should stay here tonight," Azirpahale said gently. "Just so that we can be sure the burns heal."

Crowley nodded and allowed the angel to set him comfortably into a position on the couch he could sleep in.

Aziraphale sat down in his chair with a book and read. Crowley fell asleep and the angel watched him drift off with a smile on his face.

The bell on the door rang in the morning, before Crowley had woken. Aziraphale hurried out to the front of the shop, expecting it to be a customer, but was shocked to see Castiel standing there. She was dressed in a prim white dress, her hair done up in a bun.

"Aziraphale," she said. "Why is there a feeling of evil around your shop?"

Aziraphale's heart rate picked up. Of course Castiel could feel Crowley's presence! The angel swallowed.

"I had a run in with a couple of demons yesterday, after they blew up a church, they followed me here, they're gone now."

The answer seemed to satisfy Castiel.

"I need to speak with you," she said. "I've been sent after the demon that started this war, I've been given orders to destroy him completely, and I've heard that you've faced him before."

There could be only one demon Castiel was talking about– Crowley.

"I'm afraid I've already taken care of that," Aziraphale said. "He was one of the two demons that came after me yesterday."

"Oh, Thank you for telling me." She inclined her head in Azirpahale's direction then left the shop.

Aziraphale let out a breath then made his way back to the back room. Crowley was awake.

"Who was that?" He asked.

"An angel sent to destroy you, they wanted my help," Aziraphale asked.

"You look shaken," Crowley commented. "Was it one of the Archangels?"

Aziraphale shook his head.

"Then, who was it?"

"Castiel," the angel finally said.

The name hung between them in the air.

"Ngk," Crowley said, staring at the wall, but he didn't ask anything or say anything more.

Two days later Crowley was able to walk fine and left the bookshop. It was only later that Aziraphale realised that he'd left the day before Castiel's birthday.

Chapter 19: Chapter 12

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Just outside of Carthage, Missouri, 2010 AD

"Hey, you wanted to see me?" Sam called out to Lucifer.

The devil dropped the shovel he was using and turned towards the younger Winchester. Sam hefted a gun full of rock salt rounds.

"Sam, you don't need that gun here," Satan said. "You know I'd never hurt you. Not really."

The younger Winchester glared at him.

There was a flash of lightning and Dean appeared behind the devil, holding a silver lance. Well, not Dean, Michael.

"Yeah, well I'd hurt you." he said.

Lucifer spun around and scowled at him.

"Michael," he said.

"Let's finish this," Michael replied, in Dean's voice.

"Give me a minute," Lucifer said, picking the shovel back up. "I'm almost done."

"No, It's time this is over."

Lucifer turned toward Sam. "You know, I don't suppose you'd just say yes right here and now? End this whole tiresome discussion. That's crazy, right?"

"It's never gonna happen," Sam shouted.

"Yes, give up," Michael told Lucifer.

With a swipe of his hand, Sam flew through the air and into a nearby tree.

Carthage, Missouri, 2010 AD

Meg walked into the room in front of Castiel. He watched her.

"You seem pleased," he said.

She walked to the wall and leaned up against it.

"We're going to win," she said with a gleeful smile. "Can you feel it? You cloud hopping pansies lost the whole damn universe. Lucifer's going to take over heaven. We're going to heaven, Clarence. Heh."

"Strange," Castiel said. "Cause I heard a different theory from a demon named Crowley."

Mag stood up, terror entered her eyes. "You don't know, Crowley."

There was the sound of a window crashing and a figure in black with large black wings entered the room.

"I believe he does." Crowley said.

Meg's eyes widened and she stepped back.

"Yes," he said. "We took care of your hellhounds, and now we're going to take care of you."

Meg began to run backwards. Crowley smiled. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a bottle of water. Meg's eyes widened. The holy water might not kill her, as it had done the duke Ligur, but it would hurt. In a flurry of black smoke, she vanished.

Crowley walked toward Castiel. With a snap of his fingers the flames around the angel went out. He stepped out of the holy oil circle.

"Thank you," Castiel said.

"Don't thank me," Crowley replied. "I'm a demon."

"That doesn't change the fact that you just helped me out of a very dire situation."

Crowley half smiled at that.

"Anyway," the demon said. "We have to get going. Lucifer is trying to raise Azrael just outside of town. If he does that we're screwed. Plus, Michael's coming."

The demon opened his wings once more and Castiel did the same. Faster than a human eye could see, they flew to the woods outside of town where Michael and Lucifer were facing each other over a large pit.

"Yes, give up," Michael said, then with a swipe of his hand sent Sam careening through the air.

Gabriel and Aziraphale were there already.

"Alright," Gabriel said. "Zira [1]and I are going to get Michael, we'll try not to harm Dean, you two get to Lucifer."

"Okay," Crowley said, but his voice was shaking slightly, Castiel noticed.

"Alright," Aziraphale said. "Now."

Aziraphale, carrying a now lighted angel blade, which was probably Gabriel's, and Gabriel armed with nothing but his wits, ran off toward the direction of Michael. Crowley opened his wings, and Castiel noticed him unfurling two more sets. While the original had been almost pure black, with just the slightest of a blue sheen, the other two were clearly closer to Castiel's wing colour. Of course, Raphael would have had royal blue wings, they'd probably burned darker in Crowley's fall.

He spread his wings and with one flap appeared in front of Lucifer.

Just outside of Carthage, Missouri, 2010 AD

"Lucifer!" Crowley called, getting his old boss/brother's attention.

The devil turned around, when he saw Crowley with all three sets of wings unfurled he took a step back in surprise.

"Oh, my," he said, a smile split his face. "Oh dear, I didn't realise you still had your other wings… actually, I didn't know you had other wings. So, what? You were a Seraph before you fell? Great, so was Beelzebub and that demon you killed. Is this meant to scare me?"

"You and Michael were arguing…" Crowley began.

"Yes," Lucier replied. "We do that a lot."

"...Gabriel didn't like it, so he came to get me. I told you off, you wanted to know what mother was up to, so I went and asked her."

Lucifer's eyes widened. He looked again at Crowley's wings. "No," he murdered. "Mother Fell you?"

"Where is the rest of the town, Lucifer?" Crowley asked.

The devil studied him. Then it hit the demon. He looked down at the pit Satan was filling in.

"I know," he said. "It's awful, but these horemen are so demanding. So it was women and children first."

The devil smiled at the look of panic on Crowley's face.

"I know what you must think of me, Raphael," the devil said. "But I have to do this. I have to, you of all people should understand."

He walked toward Crowley, opening his wings as he did. Crowley could immediately see the change. Lucifer used to have beautiful wings a colour between ice pink and cream. Now they were a dark burned pink that was black at the edges.

"You were mother's favourite," he said, circling Crowley the same way that demon had once circled his angel. "Now look at you." The devil reached up to touch one of Crowley's wings, he moved it away quickly. Even Lucifer knew that no one should touch another's wings unless they were their mate. "Your beautiful blue wings burned. Yourself cast out of your own garden. Raphael, you should understand why I'm doing this! Help me, Raphael, as you once did."

"No," Crowley said. "And don't call me that!"

"What would you prefer? Crawly?"

That name, thrown aside so many years before, sent shivers down Crowley's back from just hearing it.

Lucifer sighed. "You'll have to excuse me, midnight is calling and I have a ritual to finish."

He turned to the pit and began to chant. When he was finished he turned back to the assembled demons.

"Now, repeat after me. We offer up our lives, blood, souls. To complete this tribute." He said. "We offer up our lives, blood, souls. To complete this tribute," the demons repeated.

The demons fell dead, Lucifer smiled.

Crowley looked at him in shock.

"What? They're just demons."

Lucifer continued to chant until from the ground rose a figure in a robe like the starry sky with large, outstretched black wings. His gaze lowered on Crowley.

"Azreal," Crowley muttered.

"Oh, hellooooo, Death." Lucifer said, with a possessive smile.

Notes:

11 I definitely am with the people who say Zira is not Aziraphale, but Gabriel has weird short names for everyone that they don't like: Dean-o, Sammy, Cassie, so I decided that for Aziraphale he calls him Zira, and Crowley Raphie. [return to text]

Chapter 20: Chapter 13

Notes:

Don't make promises you can't keep…

Chapter Text

Just outside of Carthage, Missouri, 2010 AD

Aziraphale, carrying a now lighted angel blade, which was probably Gabriel's, and Gabriel armed with nothing but his wits, ran off toward the direction of Michael.

"Hey!" Gabriel called, getting the Archangels attention.

Michale turned around, a sick smile slid across Dean's face.

"Gabriel," he said.

"Michael, long time no see," Gabriel said.

Michael's gaze focused on him, then swung to Aziraphale. Anger burned in his eyes.

"And the traitor," Michael said. "This isn't your place, Aziraphale."

With a flick of Dean's wrist, Michael sent the principality flying, the Archangel blade flew from his hand, but Gabriel caught it, turning toward his brother.

Michael extended an arm and an Archangel blade slid out of it.

"You don't have to do this!" Gabriel said. "You don't have to end the world. This is not what mother wants."

"How dare you presume to know what mother wants, Gabriel , you left heaven, you abandoned the rest of the hosts. You left me to take over everything by myself! I'm tired, Gabriel, I just want the world to burn."

Gabriel took a step toward him, Archangel blade ready. He knew, for some reason, that Crowley didn't want him to hurt Dean, but if he had to to save the world, he would.

"You can't fool me, Gabriel, your little games won't work."

He spun around and slammed his Archangel blade into the chest of the Archangel behind him. The illusion of Gabriel that had been approaching him faded.

The real Gabriel stepped back, the blade still buried in his chest. Blood leaked out of his mouth. He reached down and pulled the blood soaked blade out, blood poured faster as it was removed. His eyes flickered blue with grace, then shone out brightly. He fell to the ground and died in an explosion of light as his Grae left him. An imprint of burning wings was left behind.

"Goodbye, brother," Michael said to his prone figure, then vanished.

Castiel almost followed Crowley, but then he saw Sam, lying prone on the ground. He shuffled to the hunter's side and lifted him up. He placed his fingers against Sam's forehead and his eyes cracked open.

"Cas?" He said, then stood up and looked around. On Michael, Gabriel, and Aziraphale's side of things there was a flash of blue light, on Crowley and Lucifer's, Lucifer was chanting something.

"We're not winning, are we?" Sam asked.

Castiel ground his teeth, it seemed that the younger Winchester was right.

"Oh, hello, Death," Lucifer said.

Azreal landed in front of them. His eyes could not be seen, but Crowley had a sense that he was glaring at Lucifer.

"You've brought me up," he said in a voice that was much different then the one he had used in Tadfield. "Now, I am your servant."

He lowered his hood and Crowley was surprised to see that what was underneath was not the same Skeletal form that Death had borne for 6000 years. His face was gaunt, with a prominent nose, large ears, and black, slicked back hair.

"Good," Lucifer said, then pointed at Crowley. "Kill my brother."

Death turned his eyes to Crowley, they locked with the demon's.

"In time," Death said. "In time I will. I believe the death of one Archangel is enough for tonight."

With a flap of his heavy wings, he vanished.

Lucifer balled his fists, then in a blink, was gone.

Aziraphale climbed to his feet and ran to Gabriel's side, but he knew it was too late, Gabriel's plan hadn't worked, and the youngest Archangel had paid for the failure with his life.

Aziraphale carefully lifted Gabriel and began to walk back toward the clearing where Crowley was standing, glaring at the spot where Lucifer had been. Castiel stepped out of the trees with a now conscious Sam leaning on his shoulder

Crowley turned to them just as Aziraphale set down Gabriel's body. The demon rushed to his brother's side and knelt down next to him.

"No, no, no, no," he murmured.

Castiel and Sam stood to the side, giving Crowley space. Aziraphale knelt down next to his husband and wrapped an arm around him. Crowley was staring at his brother as though he wasn't letting himself believe what he was seeing.

He knew this wasn't just discorporation. He could see the burn marks from Gabriel's grace exploding, that wouldn't happen with a corporation or vessel death.

Tears tracked their way down Crowley's face. He'd only just got Gabriel back after 6000 years of never knowing what his brother was going through. 6000 years without his twin, and now his dead body was laying at his feet. He shook.

Aziraphale pulled him closer and he cried into the angel's chest. Aziraphale rubbed his back gently as the tears continued to fall.

Crowley looked up, his eyes were quite literally blazing, filled with hellfire.

"I'm going to kill Michael," he hissed.

Aziraphale pulled him into a tighter hug. Crowley wrapped his arms around his husband and buried his head in his chest.

A few hours later Crowley, face still soaked in tears, lit the flames that surrounded and consumed his brother's body. Aziraphale held his hand as the flames licked across the corpse and the sun came up behind them. Sam and Castiel stood off to the side behind the pair.

Crowley turned around. His brother's Archangel blade was clutched in his hands.

"Let's go," the demon said.

After the foursome had left, a demon appeared near the almost fully burnt pyre. His burned pink wings stretched out behind him, tears were falling down his face.

"I never wanted this, Gabriel," Lucifer said.

The fire around the pyre rose up higher, toward the sky. Lucifer took a step back.

"Goodbye, brother," the devil said, and vanished once more.

America, 2010 AD

"We can't go back to Gabriel's flat," Aziraphale said.

The four of them were crashed in a nearby bar. Aziraphale looked uncomfortable. He didn't really belong in the bar, what with the three piece suit and posh British accent. Crowley, on the other hand, was three-quarters of the way into his fifth bottle of alcohol, which none of them were begrudging him. He'd just lost his brother, and, out of all of them, if anyone was going to get wasted and it not affect their plans, it was Crowley, who would just be able to sober himself up.

"True," Cas said.

"Then we'll go to Bobby's," Sam said.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Castiel asked, clearly worried.

"It's the last thing we've got at this point, and without Gabriel, I don't think we'll be able to follow our previous plan."

Crowley sat up and took another drink. "If we kill one of the Archangels, then we can stop Armeggedon," he said.

" No ," Castiel said fiercely.

"Why no?" Crowley asked.

"If you kill Michael, you'll kill Dean," Sam said. "We're not doing that."

"Surely one life, for the world…?" Aziraphale said. But even as the words were coming out of his mouth he saw Castiel's face, and he realized something.

Castiel was in love with Dean Winchester.

Aziraphale's eyes widened.

"Oh my!" the angel exclaimed.

He looked over at Crowley, he could see in the demon's eyes that he already knew.

We could go off together. Aziraphale remembered Crowley begging him to run away to the stars with him, because if the demon had to make a choice between losing the world, or losing Aziraphale, the choice had been Aziraphale, every time.

The angel felt tears in his eyes. He took his husband's hand gently, then looked up at Castiel.

"We'll save Dean," he breathed. "I promise."

Chapter 21: Interlude

Chapter Text

Soho, London, 1967 AD

"You go too fast for me, Crowley," Aziraphale said. The words hung between them, they both knew that they meant more than just his speed.

The Angel left the car, tears brimming in his eyes. This could be the last night he ever saw Crowley. He'd given him holy water, he'd given him the tool of his own destruction. He couldn't imagine what would happen.

He pulled his overcoat closer around him. It was the same coat he'd worn in 1862. He wore it as a reminder that he would protect Crowley even if it meant his own destruction, his own Fall.

"Hello, Aziraphale," a voice spoke as he reached the bookshop. He felt relief that it wasn't Gabriel, though hearing Castiel's voice after Aziraphale had to tell Crowley that they couldn't be together, hurt. He knew now that Crowley loved him, he knew now that he loved Crowley completely. But all that would lead to was their mutual destruction.

"Hello, Castiel," the angel said quietly.

"Is there something wrong?" his child asked.

Aziraphale shook his head.

"Nothing. No, I'm fine."

"I was told by heaven that you requested some heavenly Holy Water, the kind that could reduce a Fallen to nothing."

Aziraphale nodded.

Reduce a Fallen to nothing. He thought.

"Have you been having serious demon problems?" he asked.

"Yes," Aziraphale said. It wasn't even a lie, except the problems he was having with this particular demon was that he was head over heels in love with him, and couldn't act on that without hurting him.

"I have stuff to do, Castiel," he said, ducking past his child and into the bookshop. He could feel Castiel's eyes watching him as he moved into the back room. Aziraphale collapsed down into his armchair and found himself staring at the couch across from him. The empty couch.

He began to cry.

Chapter 22: Chapter 14

Summary:

I'm sooo sorry I'm late in publishing this! I've been having a lot of IRL distractions from writing along with a severe case of writer's block!

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sioux Falls, South Dakota, 2010 AD

Bobby hadn't heard from the boys in a couple weeks. He had tried calling Dean the day before but had gotten no answer. He'd heard on the news that a town in Missouri was experiencing multiple apocalyptic signs and was concerned that the boys had gone there and gotten themselves killed.

There was a knock at the door and Bobby made his way through the house toward it, clutching a gun in his hand. He swung the door open and leveled the barrel of the gun at whoever was on his porch. He immediately dropped it down when he saw Sam standing there.

"'Bout time, what has it been, years?" Bobby said.

"It's been a week," a deep voice said. That's when Bobby noticed Castiel standing next to Sam. Behind the pair stood two strangers, both of whom were covered in blood. One had light blond hair and was wearing a three piece suit like something out of a Victorian drama. The other looked like a failed rock star, complete with tight black clothes, obnoxiously red, shoulder-length hair, and thick black sunglasses.

"Where's Dean?" Bobby asked.

Sam groaned. "That's a long story. Bobby, can we come in?"

"I guess."

Bobby rolled into the study/demon torture chamber. Castiel and Sam followed without a thought.

Bobby picked up a flask from the desk, he flicked it over the four of them. Luckily, Crowley was far enough away from the spray that he was able to leap away from it. Bobby couldn't see it, but Aziraphale blocked the spray from hitting the demon with one of his wings. From the hunter's perspective the water hit an invisible barrier.

"What the…"

Aziraphale turned to glare at the hunter, holy power in his eyes. Bobby rolled his chair away from him.

"He didn't mean anything," Castiel said, placing a hand on the angel's shoulder. "He doesn't know."

Bobby turned to Sam.

"What is going on?" He demanded.

Sam swallowed. "Well, like I said, long story, but…ah, Crowley's a demon."

"What?"

Aziraphale, who had calmed down considerably, snapped his fingers and all remnants of holy water in the whole house were miracled away.

"I'm sorry, come again," Bobby said. "You brought a demon into my house?"

"It's not like what you think," Castiel said. "Crowley is an Archangel."

"So, Fallen, you mean, like Lucifer?" Bobby said. "How the hell is that supposed to make things any better? And where's Dean? "

"He said yes," Sam said.

Bobby froze. "You don't mean…"

"He said yes to Michael," Castiel elaborated. "And Lucifer now has control of Death, who will unite with the other four horsemen to bring about the end of the world."

"So… we've lost?" the wheelchair-bound hunter asked. "After everything, we've lost?"

"Not quite," Aziraphale said. "We still have the four… five of us." He smiled.

"So, what are you?" Bobby asked the principality.

"This is Aziraphale," Castiel said. "He and his husband stopped the last Apocalypse."

"The last one? This has happened before?" Bobby demanded.

Aziraphale nodded. "Yes, in 1990, the Antichrist rose and summoned the four horsemen."

"How come I didn't know about this? I was a hunter back in 1990, I would have seen the signs!"

"Well, first of all, it happened in Tadfield, England, which is a bit of a ways for you, and secondly, after it was stopped, the Antichrist wiped everyone's memories of the incident," Aziraphale explained.

"Except for yours?" Bobby said, disbelieving.

"He couldn't wipe the minds of angels or demons, and he didn't want to anyway."

"So… you're an angel?"

Aziraphale nodded.

Bobby ground his teeth and spun his chair around so that he could grab a bottle off the table behind him.

"Well," Bobby said. "Let's hear the rest of this long story, from the beginning would be good."

"Oh, well… In the beginning God–"

"He doesn't mean that beginning, angel," Crowley said. After realizing that there was no more threat of holy water, the demon had stepped forward to stand on the angel's left. He shoved his hands (not very successfully, he still regretted his sceam with women's pockets back in the 60s as he was still suffering the consequences) into his pockets. "Although, I do think we could start with the garden…"

A few hours, and a very interesting love story, with a little bit of Apocalyptic fun thrown in, later, they were all properly drunk. There was something close to trust in the air. A certain comradery that could only bloom is desperate situations.

"So, how are we going to do this?" Sam asked. "We've ruled out killing Michael, and we don't have the manpower to take out Lucifer, that would require more demons than what we've got."

"What if we banished Michael?" Bobby said. "Didn't Cas do that before, kick an angel out of their vessel."

"Yes, I did," Castiel said. "But that only works on single ranked angels."

"Single-ranked?" Bobby asked.

"Archangels have two ranks," Crowley explained. "For instance, I was both a Seraphim and an Archangel, but most of the time we're just referred to as Archangels. But that's why we have the six wings, like Seraphs."

"Okay, so that won't work on Michael?" Sam finished.

"No," Crowley said, then sat up quickly as an idea came to him. "But an exorcism might…"

America, 2010 AD

The charred remains of the crossroads demon sat at Michael's feet. He had tried, valiantly, but there really was no point. He might consider himself the king of the crossroads since Lillith's demise, but really, he was nothing. He was less than the lowest of the Fallen.

She held the gun in Dean's hands. The last step of her plan was complete, now the meddlesome angels and hunters would be no match for her.

She could see the confusion on Sandalphon and Zechariah's faces.

"Sir, was that necessary?" Zechariah asked.

"Yes," Michael said. "Because even with Gabriel dead those pests will still get in my way, and until they are exterminated, I will need a back up plan."

"You can kill them with an Archangel blade, even if the angel is immune to hellfire."

"True, but this will give me a range advantage, plus the added bonus of being able to kill Dean Winchester if this all falls apart."

"I don't understand," Zechariah said.

The Archangel, leader of God's armies, smiled wickedly.

"What many don't know is that this gun isn't just able to kill almost anything. It is able to destroy its soul completely. No heaven, no hell, no purgatory , and no coming back. If I shoot Dean Winchester with this gun, he'll be gone for good. He'll never be able to return." She lifted the gun so she could study it more closely. "And I happen to know that Castiel would give up anything to be able to save Dean Winchester, even the world."

Notes:

Sooo... I might have messed with a few rules about the Colt, but I don't think there's anything in Supernatural to contradict this? I'm only on season 11 though, so I haven't really had anything to do with the empty, and since most of the Colt's victims would have gone there, I can't really say.

Anyway, would you like to exorcise and angel?

Chapter 23: Chapter 15

Notes:

I'm sorry I'm late! I wasn't home yesterday and didn't get back until late so I didn't get a chance to publish this!

Also, the end of this chapter is best read while listening to "O Death" by Jen Titus

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sioux Falls, South Dakota, 2010 AD

Crowley woke up momentarily not knowing where he was, and with a wicked headache. It seemed that he had passed out drunk after not sobering up. With a minor miracle he dispelled the headache and sat up. Aziraphale was already awake, if he had been asleep at all, and Crowley's head was pillowed in the angel's lap. He had a stack of old books sitting next to him on the floor and one in his hand. When he noticed that Crowley had woken up he leaned down and placed a chase kiss on his lips.

Crowley decided that he didn't need to get up yet and lay back down, closed his eyes, and hummed as Aziraphale ran a hand through his hair.

"What are you reading, angel?" He asked.

"It turns out that the Winchesters' friend Bobby has a lot of lore books, some of them have some interesting information even I didn't know."

"Have you somehow read through his whole collection while I was asleep?"

Aziraphale blushed. Crowley liked seeing that look on his face, cute, embarrassed. It hadn't been as common a look in the last fifteen years as it had been before.

"I was interested!" The Angel protested. "Plus I thought that there might be an answer to our predicament in it. I haven't found one yet, I don't know how we will be able to stop Michael without… I can't do it alone… and even if Cass could help me…"

"I might be able to take out Lucifer… in heaven we were pretty close to evenly matched."

Crowley immediately saw the terror in Aziraphale's eyes at the thought of him taking on the devil alone.

"No, no, my dear, we will not let that happen."

"Angel, listen to me, If I could take out Lucifer, then you and Cas could take out Michael together."

"What makes you think that Castiel and I could do that?"

"Because, well… there's a chance that Castiel will have… certain powers, from me, that might come in use against an angel… If we told–"

"No," Aziraphale said. "Can you imagine what that would do to him?"

Crowley could, and that's why he had only made the suggestion tentatively. He was not fully over his own demonhood, his own Fall. Sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night screaming, ghosts of fire all along his wings that had opened in the night. Whenever it happened Aziraphale would hold him until he stopped shaking. Whenever Crowley thought of Castiel, he always reminded himself that not telling his son he was half-demon was a kindness. Crowley couldn't imagine the psychological trauma it would be for an angel to hear that they were part Fallen.

That some part of his son was corrupted by Crowley's damnation. That Castiel was in some way damned because Crowley was, was an awful thought, and he wouldn't have suggested it if they didn't need it to work.

The original plan, the one that involved Cas coming with Crowley to hell had not been put in effect, and Crowley doubted they could have done it, told Cas the truth. They probably would have made up some kind of lie for why he was the best one to go with Crowley to Hell, made some excuse to explain why he was immune to hellfire, after all, they had the basis of Aziraphale having supposedly survived Hellfire.

"You're right," Crowley said, his voice weak. It was his fault, his fault that Aziraphale would never be able to tell his son that he was his father. Would never be able to openly show how much he cared about him. "I'm sorry, angel."

"Sorry for what, dearest?" Aziraphale asked gently.

"I'm sorry that you can never tell Castiel the truth because of what I am," Crowley said weakly.

Tears appeared in the angel's eyes. He leaned down and placed a kiss gantly on Crowley.

"Don't apologise for that, love, it's not your fault, and I don't care. What it really is is unfair to you, you're loved Castiel since he was a baby in your arms, and while I got to guide him and help him, and watch over him through the years, you hadn't even seen him until a few days ago."

He eased Crowley into a sitting position on his lap and held him and Crowley curled his head into the angel's neck. Tears streamed down his face.

"It's all a lot, isn't it?" Aziraphale asked. "Especially this soon after Castiel's birthday."

The demon nodded into his husband's chest. Aziraphale just held him, allowing him to be comforted by his presence.

Around noon they all met back up in the living room/office of Bobby's house. Sam was grimacing and rubbing his forehead, probably supporting a hangover that the Supernatural beings were exempt from. Bobby didn't even seem phased by the drinking from the night before, instead he just pulled another beer from the fridge and began downing it.

"So," the older hunter began. "Do ya idjits have some kind of plan? Because it seems to me that the world is currently going to hell in a handbasket."

"I don't know," Castiel said. "Without Gabriel…" The angel glanced at Crowley as though to check that he was okay at the mention of his brother's name. "Our plan somewhat hinged on being able to take out the Archangels in Archangel-to-Archangel combat."

"So what you're telling me is that not only have you guys royally screwed up, allowed Lucifer to release Death and sped up the pace of the Apocalypse, but also, you didn't have a back up plan!?"

"HEY!" Aziraphale exclaimed.

"Not fair," the angel's husband said, glaring at Bobby. "At least we did more than you!"

"Well, in case you didn't notice, I'm stuck here in my house in this wheelchair! "

Crowley growled low in the back of his throat then snapped his fingers.

"Ow," Bobby said. "What did you just…"

"No need to thank me," Crowley snapped.

Bobby glared at him, then looked down at his legs. He moved his foot a little bit and was surprised when it actually moved.

"Did you…?"

"Don't thank me," Crowley said again.

Bobby pushed up on the arm rests of his chair and began to stand. Castiel smiled. Aziraphale glanced at Crowley with a fond look on his face. Sam's face split into a grin. He stood up and pulled the now standing Bobby into a hug. Bobby was smiling too.

"Th–"

"Don't thank me," Crowley hissed. "And don't let it get around."

"We still don't have a plan," Castiel said.

"True," Bobby said. "But at least I'm no longer useless."

"If we take out the horsemen, there is a chance the same thing will happen as happened last time," Aziraphale said. "If we could find Death, then maybe…"

Crowley smiled. "You know, angel, that just might work."

Chicago, Illinois 2010 AD

A train rolled by, and beneath it, a pale Cadillac drove down a one way street. The sky overhead was grey, wind picked up, but that wasn't entirely unexpected, after all, it was Chicago. The car slowly pulled up to the side of the curb and the driver's door opened.

Slowly, a man emerged. One foot on the sidewalk, then he stepped out, placing a cane on the sidewalk as a hand, adorned with a pale white ring, gripped the head of it. The man slowly closed the door to the pale car. In the flash of an eye, so fast compared to his previously slow movements, the man turned and began to walk down the crowded sidewalk.

Many people passed him, and he kept his distance, until one man in a brown coat and yellow tie approached.

Death tightened his grip on the cane, then stepped in the man's path so that their shoulders brushed.

The man turned toward him, unaware of exactly who he had run into. "Watch where you're walking, pal," he demanded.

Death continued, unconcerned. He looked down at his shoulder and slowly brushed at the place where the man ran into him, whether this was because he didn't like the touch of something so weak, and short lived, or because this was the way to finish what he started, only he knows.

The man that got bumped began to feel something, he looked up, pain in his eyes. He didn't realise that he'd been literally touched by Death, but he could feel that he had been, figuratively.

He dropped to his knees. The sound of him falling to the ground echoed in the air. He slumped to his side and the rest of his body fell. He landed on his back, looking up unseeing.

People on the street saw him, where he'd landed beside the Cadillac. They begin to rush toward him, hoping they can save him, not knowing that they were too late.

Death had claimed him.

Death was not to be underestimated.

Notes:

Pizza, anyone?

Also, for anyone who is reading this now that it is complete. I get that this is extremely long, but if it's late at night, get some sleep. This is a good point to set this down and pick it up tomorrow. Sleep, my children, sleep.

Chapter 24: Chapter 16

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sioux Falls, South Dekota, 2010 AD

"How would we find Death?" Sam asked.

"Omens," Crowley replied. "There would be omens that surround Death's presence. Strange deaths, crop failures, heavy storms and winds, that kind of thing."

Sam nodded, reaching for his computer that was sitting on the desk next to him. He opened it up and started on his normal search pattern.

"So, once we find Death, what are we going to do with him?"

"I didn't think that far ahead," Aziraphale admitted.

"We'll talk to him first," Crowley offered, "last time he didn't really want the end, he was just following his role, his summoning. The only reason Adam locked him away was because it would make it that much harder for someone to start the apocalypse again."

"Whose Adam?" Bobby asked.

Aziraphale smiled wistfully. "The antichrist," the angel explained. "He helped us stop the end of the world last time."

Bobby took this in stride.

"I don't know how Death feels about the Apocalypse now though, as far as I'm aware he could want the end, just to spite Adam for locking him away. Or, he could want to stop it like we do. Or, he could be indifferent to it."

"What if he won't help us? What will we do then?" Castiel asked.

"I'm not sure," Criowley admitted.

Bobby walked over to a bookshelf and began rummaging through the volumes.

"What are you looking for?" Sam asked.

"I had a volume on spells related to the summoning, binding, and capturing of Death I thought it come in handy but I can't–"

He was interrupted by Castiel holding a book out to him. The angel had teleported from his spot on the couch to stand next to the hunter. The book in his hand was leather, with a title in Greek across it that read: Θɑνɑτο𝞁 [1] in reddish-brown dried-blood-like letters.

"Is this what you're looking for?" the angel asked.

Bobby took the book from him and walked over to his desk, cracking it open. For a few minutes he flipped through the book, muttering under his breath in Greek as he did. Until finally he stopped.

"What about the horsemen's rings?" He asked.

"The horsemen have rings?" Aziraphale asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "When you cut off the ring from the horseman's hands they don't have their powers anymore. We did it to War and Famine."

"You saw War and Famine before Death was released?" Crowley asked, shocked.

"Yeah, but they weren't working together, they just seemed to think that now that the end is upon us they had free reign."

"What about Pollution?" Aziraphale asked. "Have you seen them?"

"Pollution? I thought the fourth rider was Pestilence?"

"It was until humans became adapt at getting rid of epidemics," Castiel explained. "Sam, where are the rings now?"

"The Impala, why?"

With a sound like the swishing of air, Castiel vanished from the room and then, minutes later, reappeared with two rings in his hands. He set them down on the desk in front of Bobby. Crowley sauntered over to take a look at them. He lifted war's up to the light.

"Is this…" he began.

Aziraphale got up and took the ring from his husband's hand. He admired it, also holding it up to the light. He placed it in his palm, then, turning away from the others, muttered something in enochian. The ring lit up, then began to lose its shape. It stretched out in his hand, became a hilt, a crossbar, a pommel, a blade. The blade stretched to be about three feet long, then settled. Aziraphale tightened his grip around the hilt. The blade went up in flames.

Upon seeing it, both Crowley and Castiel took a step backwards. This was a powerful weapon, a weapon made by God herself that could cut through anything, could kill both demons and angels alike. It was not an angel blade, made by an angel's grace pooled into their hand, or an Archangel blade, much more powerful simply by the fact that it was made of the grace of a much more powerful angel. This blade was something more. Made by God's grace and with God's hand and given to the angel who was fit to wield it.

An angel that later gave it away.

This was the blade that had been given to Aziraphale when he was given his position as guardian of Eden.

He had then given it to Adam and Eve. The blade that had created war, when brother turned against brother, and Cain killed Abel.

There were so many blessings on the blade, but also many curses. The blade that could kill anything.

Even an Archangel.

Aziraphale smiled. "It's my sword," he said, missing the look of shocked recognition on both of the hunters, and the younger angel's faces.

"Your sword?" Sam asked. "That… that… that's the…"

"That first blade," Bobby said. "The sword that killed Abel, which War will carry with himself [2] when he rides to the last battle."

"Well," Crowley said with an air of nonchalance, "War's not going to carry it into the last battle, we are."

The demon grinned, and his husband returned it with a smile.

"Guys," Sam said, looking down at his laptop. "I think I found Death."

They all crowded around behind him. Aziraphale put out the sword and collapsed it back into ring form before sliding it on his finger where his signet ring had been back before he had been expelled from heaven. It was nice to be able to wear something again.

On his laptop was a picture of all of the weather patterns in major US cities since the day of Death's release. A pattern like the one Crowley had described had made its way from Carthage across the midwestern United States.

"He's in Chicago," Sam said.

"Then let's go to Chicago and talk to Death," Castiel said, turning toward Crowley and Aziraphale.

With a slight pop, the angel was gone, leaving the demon and angel to follow behind him. In no time at all, Bobby and Sam were left alone in Bobby's house.

"Balls," Bobby cursed.

Sam groaned.

Chicago, Illinois 2010 AD

Two angels and a demon appeared suddenly on a street corner in Chicago. No one noticed this sudden materialisation. Normal Chicago citizens went about their ordinary lives as though it was commonplace for ethereal and occult beings to appear in the streets. One lawyer, Ryan, who bumped into Castiel upon his teleportation, didn't even bat an eye, but yelled at him to watch where he was walking.

Dean and Sam had once asked why no one had ever heard of angels, why they had never heard of angels, if they were indeed real. In the end, the answer was quite simple. If you believed with enough conviction that something wasn't real, then you wouldn't notice it, even if it crashed into you (or you into it, on a Chicago street).

"I hate teleporting," the demon said. "Let's take the car next time."

"And lose hours that we don't have to spare while Michael is in Dean?" Castiel growled.

The demon sighed, his son did have a point.

The three of them looked across the street and saw the pale car.

So I looked, and behold, a pale horse. And the name of him who sat on it was Death, and Hades followed with him. And power was given to them over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword, with hunger, with death, and by the beasts of the earth. [3]

"That's Death's car," Crowley supplied. "I guess he got sick of the motorcycle," he joked.

Aziraphale gave him a pointed look that said that this was definitely not the time.

"I'll go in," The demon said. "After all, he and I… we used to be pretty close back before the Fall, there's a chance that he will listen to me, if he knows that I was Raphael."

Castiel nodded. "That is probably a good plan. However, if he does not come to an agreeable conclusion, you may have to take his ring."

"I know."

Aziraphale took his hand and squeezed it.

For once, the three of them looked almost like a family, standing there on that street corner. Any humans that saw them might have thought that. The reflection was bittersweet for Crowley, especially as he made his way to the door of the pizza restaurant and stepped in.

Death looked up from where he was sitting and smiled.

Notes:

11 Thanatos, Greek for Death, and also the name of the god of Death [return to text]

22since war is male in SPN and female in Good Omens, I just decided that since they are not a concrete entity, that when they remanifested, they remanifest as a different gender. [return to text]

33 Revelations 6:8 (NKJV)

[return to text]

Really quick nerd moment: The code for the greek letters is soooo cool, it's kind of interesting to see what Greek letters used just the shape and which used their names. Okay, nerd moment over!

Chapter 25: Interlude

Summary:

I am really bad at getting the interludes up on Friday's, sorry guys!

Chapter Text

Mayfair, London, England, 1990 AD

Aziraphale had never been to Crowley's flat. It was stark, and minimalist, and closer to the halls of heaven than the angel would have expected. Crowley seemed nervous, which the angel could understand, for the first time since 1967 there was a chance that they could be together. No more turning each other away, no more living without the other.

Crowley's hand was still clasped in the angel's, and he didn't intend to let it go.

A record player, that seemed out of place in the very modern flat, came to life.

I can dim the lights

And sing you songs full of sad things

We can do the tango just for two….

Crowley took the angel's other hand and turned him so that they were standing face to face. He smiled at him, then tightened his grip on the angel's hands.

"I thought I lost you today," he whispered. "I thought you were gone for good, and I gave up. I don't want a world without you in it."

Tears beaded in the angel's eyes, he closed the distance between them and laid a hand on Crowley's shoulder. He let go of his hands to place his hands on Crowley's waist. Crowley placed his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders.

"Dance with me?" the angel asked.

They tried, they really did try, they didn't fail for lack of trying, more like lack of dancing ability. Crowley was a poor dancer at pretty much anything, though he enjoyed disco. He, Haustur, and Ligur had all gone out once in the seventies, it had been fun, but he'd regretted it afterwards.

Sometimes he still asked himself where they had gotten the giant novelty pin, he had no idea.

Aziraphale could only dance the gavotte, which didn't really work with Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy .

Regardless of their lack of dancing expertise, it was wonderful, just being in his angel's arms. He would have described it as heaven, except he knew for a fact it was better than heaven.

The song faded out, and Drowes came on. They tried to change their dancing tactic to match the music, but that was a bit more of an extreme catastrophe, but it had both angel and demon laughing. Drowse ended and Teo Torriatte came on. They came back to their original positions, Aziraphale's head on Crowley's chest, they swayed, and surprisingly, they weren't totally bad at that, maybe there was some hope for them.

When I'm gone

No need to wonder if I ever think of you

The same moon shines

The same wind blows

For both of us, and time is but a paper moon

Be not gone

Though I'm gone

It's just as though I hold the flower that touches you

A new life grows

The blossom knows

There's no one else could warm my heart as much as you

Be not gone

Let us cling together as the years go by

Oh my love, my love

In the quiet of the night

Let our candle always burn

Let us never lose the lessons we have learned

"I love you," the angel whispered into the demon's chest.

Crowley gently placed a kiss on the angel's head. "I love you too."

Chapter 26: Chapter 17

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Just outside of Carthage, Missouri, 2010 AD

Gabriel's pyre had burnt down to nothing, his body became nothing but ash. One last figure was left paying his respects, before he would move on. His dark wings were folded behind him. A cloak that was the colour of the night filled with stars surrounded his frame.

"I didn't expect to see you here," a voice spoke as a figure walked out of the woods behind him. Death turned around to see the man.

"Contrary to belief, I don't collect all souls, and that is not all I do."

"No, I know," the man from the woods replied.

"Why did you make them go through that?" Death asked. "Make them believe you're dead?"

"It will make it more convincing for Michael and Lucifer. If Crowley hadn't believed then they wouldn't have believed."

"And their belief was more important than easing your already hurting brother's pain?"

"It will be fine. This way, I'll be able to sneak into heaven, to formulate a better plan. Things will be better this way."

Death sighed. He didn't reply for a while. When the fire in front of them died out, he turned to the angel next to him.

"If I see him, I will tell him."

"I doubt you'll see him, he's too smart for that."

Chicago, Illinois, America, 2010 AD

"It's been too long, brother," Death said. His mannerisms in the new body he had obtained were odd to Crowley.

"Azreal," Crowley greeted.

"Death, please," Death replied.

He gestured to the chair sitting in front of him. Crowley pulled it out and carefully sat down.

"Really, you must try the pizza, it's delicious."

"I don't eat."

Death made a face full of disappointment at this remark. He cut into the deep dish pizza in front of him and took a slow, measured bite. His eyes never left Crowley.

"You know," he said. "Your idea, about exorcising Michael might hold some merit, with a few words changed, of course."

Crowley remembered bringing up exorcising an Archangel when they were talking about what to do at Bobby's house. Although, it was only a barely retained memory as he had gotten utterly sloshed afterwards. If Death said it would work…

"I need you to stop the apocalypse, call the other riders back."

"And, why would I do that?"

"Because you don't want to see the world burn, you don't want it destroyed. You want everything to keep going as it is."

"Well, that is not entirely true, I don't want everything to keep going as it is. The way the world is running, the way heaven and hell are running, cannot continue."

"Then what? You'll end the world because heaven and hell are messed up?"

"If that is what it comes to. But, I would prefer a different result, if I am to speak honestly. Because of this, I am willing to offer you something, a promise. However this ends, one Archangel, and only one of the original four, will die."

"Then you're ensuring our defeat! One Archangel has already died!" Crowley said. "What you're saying is that he died in vain."

"Gabriel's alive [1," Death informed Crowley.

"What?"

"Gabriel did not perish by Michael's hand as you seem to think he did. He is alive, in heaven, right now, and he will come back to help you by the end."

Death set down his eating implements, then removed a ring from his finger and handed it to Crowley.

"One Archangel will die, Crowley, it's up to you to make sure that it is the right one."

Crowley took the ring and placed it on his finger.

"As for the others, the Winchesters, and your husband and son, I cannot make any promises."

He turned back to his food, and ignored Crowley, a clear indication that the conversation was over, Crowley climbed to his feet and began to walk back toward the doorway.

"Oh, and Crowley," Death said.

The angel turned around.

"You should remember, Raphael could heal anything , including that which was lost forever."

"Raphael's gone."

Death hummed. "Maybe not as gone as you think."

Heaven, 2010 AD

Death had told Crowley the truth. Gabriel was alive, and in heaven, but things were not going as well as he would have liked for them to. He had managed to sneak in his usual way, through a crack in the first sphear, but now that he was in the halls of heaven, he could feel his unnecessary heart pounding in his chest in fear that someone would find him and know who he was, now that they knew that Raphael was Fallen and not just on the run as he had been. And, of course, if they found him, then he was screwed, his whole plan was screwed, because he was supposed to be dead.

He rounded a corner, his Archangel blade in hand, and an angel came around another, so that they were standing face to face a hundred feet apart. They stood in a hall of personal heavens staring each other down (in the Dean Winchester to Dean Winchester section, talking about irony).

The angel that was facing Gabriel down was Not-Gabriel. The other Archangel's purple eyes narrowed in confusion, and then realisation dawned. An angel blade fell into his hand. Gabriel watched it. Unlike earth, where he could just use one of his many tricks, those didn't work in heaven, since they came from his vessel, the trickster god Loki. Pagan gods held no power off the earthly plain.

Not-Gabriel approached him.

Unlike Not-Gabriel, who could kill Real-Gabriel, Real-Gabriel could not kill him. If he killed him then heaven would feel the surge of his grace going out, which would send hundreds of angels his way. Which would end with him being caught, and probably killed. So he needed a way to defeat the other angel without killing him.

The angel rushed to him with an angel blade in hand. Gabriel ducked and rolled away from his first slash. One thing about Not-Gabriel having a significant height advantage was that Gabriel could easily dodge below the other angel's reach. Gabriel popped back to his feet and turned toward the angel who was glaring at him.

"Michael said you're dead," Not-Gabriel declared.

"Well, I guess Michael was wrong."

Not Gabriel stepped toward him, moving in to stab him in the heart. Gabriel bent over backwards and Not-Gabriel stumbled forward, he landed on top of Gabriel, knocking the angel blade from his hand. Immediately after he realised what position he was in, he grabbed Gabriel by the throat and moved his own blade down toward the messenger's heart once more.

Gabriel reached up and grabbed the hand with the blade in it. Two arms were better than one. As Gabriel pushed the blade away from him it suddenly hit him how he could stop Gabriel without killing him.

The problem with killing him was that it would cause a grace explosion, but, what if Not-Gabriel had no grace?

Gabriel moved the blade in his hands and cut Gabriel's throat. Just as he expected, the startled angel's grace began to pour out. Gabriel let go of the knife and allowed the grace to pool in the palm of one hand.

Not-Gabriel fell backwards as the white-ish blue substance poured from his throat. Blood followed it.

Gabriel snapped his fingers and a bottle appeared in his other hand. He carefully poured the grace into the bottle and sealed it, putting it in his pocket.

He waved a hand over Not-Gabriel's throat and healed him. Then he waved a hand over the whole of the man and sent him crashing through the first sphere and to earth.

He picked up the two Archangel blades. Wiping the one covered in Not-Gabriel's blood he stored them both into his jacket pocket. Now he could have a blade for Aziraphale when he got back to Team Stop-Arrmeggedon (no, no, that didn't have a good enough ring to it).

He moved on, heading toward Michael's office.

Notes:

11 What? did you think Gabriel would actually rush in to fight Michael? No! That could get him killed! [return to text]

Sooo, plot plot plot... I can't wait for the next chapter!!!!

Chapter 27: Chapter 18

Notes:

Guess what? I finally have a beta! I apologize for any and all mistakes that I didn't catch, and want to give a giant thank you to Lee Forest (yourdailyforestnymph) for offering to be my beta!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sioux Falls, South Dekota, 2010 AD

By the time the angels got back to Bobby's, it was getting late. The group, which Gabriel had called team-stop-arrmeggedon, grouped together in Bobby's living room with drinks as Crowley told them what had transpired during his conversation with Death. He showed them Death's ring and explained to them what Death had said.

"This is good, right?" Sam asked. "If you get to choose which Archangel dies, then you can just close your eyes and snap Lucifer away, right? Then Michael will have no reason to fight and the world is saved."

"That's not exactly how it works," Aziraphale explained.

"The ring only means that if I decide that one of the Archangels is going to be the one to die, then it will be their time. It doesn't mean I suddenly can snap extremely powerful beings out of existence."

"So, can't you decide now that Lucifer would be the one to die?" Sam asked.

"I could," Crowley answered. "But, if we can't stop the apocalypse that just guarantees that Michael will win the fight, and you might not like what would happen if that were the case [1]."

"So you wait," Castiel said, "and you choose who dies when we can kill them."

"Exactly." the demon replied with a smile.

"So, what do we do till then?" Sam said, shoving his hands into his pockets and meeting the demon's eyes.

"We wait," Aziraphale replied. "Wait until we get another opportunity to stop Michael or Lucifer."

"Wait," Bobby interjected. "This plan is all well and good, but have you idjits forgotten that there are two Archangels in this mess, which means if you killed just one the other will take over the world."

"What if we Fell Michael?" Castiel said. He was staring resolutely out the window as though he was imagining what the Falling Archangel would look like hurling through the sky. "We get her out of Dean, and then we Fall her. Surely she's done enough that once we push her out of the first Sphere she'll Fall."

Crowley's shoulders slid up at the thought, and Castiel and Aziraphale, who could see his wings, saw that he pulled them flush to his body, as though he was trying to protect them from the mere thought of burning again as he was hurled from heaven.

"No," Crowley said. "We can't…"

"If we kill Lucifer, Michael will take over," Castiel replied firmly. "I know it can't be comfortable for a demon to consider Falling an angel, but it's what must be done."

"No," Crowley said. "Falling is worse than death, and Michael is still my brother. I will not Fall him."

Castiel glared at the demon, he ground his teeth and growled low in his throat.

"I don't understand," he said, his low voice lower than usual, hard, and angry. "You wanted to kill him only days ago, but you won't do this! "

Crowley stood up and glared at Castiel, his wings, all three sets, opened behind them, their shadows visible even to the humans in the room cast across Bobby's wall.

"Death would release Michael to the void, to the Empty, death is the end, no more pain! Falling is worse than death. Having your Grace torn out and your very nature destroyed, I will not put an angel through that, not even if they deserve it!"

"WE DON'T HAVE A CHOICE!" Castiel growled back. His wings too spread out behind him, six large shadows.

Aziraphael's mouth dropped open when he said it.

Castiel was an angel , the lowest rank, at least that was what Aziraphale had believed when he was a baby. Only two wings, weak grace. Yet, here, facing down Crowley, an extra two pairs of wings had opened before the principality's very eyes. They would put Castiel as a Seraphim at least.

"WE ALWAY HAVE A CHOICE." Crowley screamed back, not looking at Castiel's wings, not realising the realisation his husband had come to.

The demon and the angel locked eyes. Grace glowed in Castiel's, intensifying the blue of his eyes. Hellfire burned in Crowley's.

"Death told you that your plan about an exorcism would work! We can expel Michael from heaven and throw her down to Hell!" Castiel snapped.

"Or, we can exorcise her from her true vessel, and prevent her from taking over the world that way."

"That is not a realistic way to prevent disaster! Just because she won't be as powerful without Dean doesn't mean that she will stop her plans!"

"WE WILL NOT FALL MY SISTER!" Crowley shouted back.

"YOU CAME HERE TO HELP US NOT ORDER US AROUND AND FORCE UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS ON US!"

Castiel balled his fists, and then with a flap of his wings, was gone.

Sam and Bobby were both staring awestruck at where the angel had just been. Their gazes turned back to Crowley who was still glaring at the space where his son had just been. The tensions drained from him and he folded his wings back to himself.

"I need some air," he said, before walking toward the front door.

Castiel had had the same idea. Unlike Crowley though, he was in the back of the Salvage yard, sitting below a tree just beyond the cars. There had been many times that the angel had been irritated when Dean prayed to him for help. There had also been many times that the angel had wished that he could pray back. At the moment, he would have given anything to be able to hear Dean talking in his head.

Dean, why did you do it? Castiel thought.

There was the sound of wings flapping and a figure was standing in front of him. Dean . Except, it wasn't Dean. There were six ice blue wings coming off his back.

"I have to say, I'm impressed with you, Castiel," Michael said in Dean's voice.

"Michael?" the angel asked, standing up. His angel blade slid into his hand, but not only would that be useless against an Archangel, there was the fact that Castiel would never be able to stab Dean.

Michael smirked, he could see the pain in Castiel's eyes. The Archangel knew why. The angel was looking into the eyes of the man he loved and not seeing him there.

"It's too bad," Michael said. "He was in love with you too, you know." [2]

Castiel's hand holding the blade began to shake. He locked eyes with the Archangel in front of him.

"You're lying," he said.

Michael laughed. "I wouldn't lie about this, Castiel. You know how long it took me to get Dean to say yes. I had Zachariah go after Sam, and Bobby, [3] you were there, but Dean would do anything. I showed him a horrible version of the future, [4] and you know what was the only thing that really shook him about it? Not Sam being the devil , not the thousands of people dead, it was you . You as a human drug addict. The first thing he did when he got back was tell you to never change." Michael laughed.

"That's when I realised that I was going at this all wrong, it turns out that the only way that Dean would say yes was if I threatened the one thing that he cared about the most. Castiel ," he said with derision. "Angel of the lord. And guess what, as soon as it was your life on the line he said yes, like that," he snapped his fingers with a dark smile.

"Now, of course, I lied to him, told him that I wouldn't harm you as long as he said yes to being my vessel, and he believed me, of course. After all, I am an angel. But I can't let a rebellious angel live. What kind of leader would I be if I let insubordination thrive?"

One of Michael's arms straightened and an Archangel blade slid out of his sleeve and into his hand. The golden twisted blade gleamed in the light of the fading sun.

"Goodbye Castiel," Michael said, then plunged the knife toward the angel's heart.

Notes:

11 think the Apocalypse World from season 13

[return to text]

22 I got this idea from this comic: https/pin.it/5c5JmMr [return to text]

33 5x1: Sympathy for the Devil [return to text]

44 5x4: The End [return to text]

Chapter 28: Chapter 19

Notes:

Warning for some violence in this chapter...

Also... I'm sorry

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sioux Falls, South Dekota, 2010 AD

Now, to understand what happened next you need to first know what Crowley was doing at the exact moment. The demon in question had walked out of the front door after his and Castiel's argument. He glared at the vehicle parked in front of Bobby's, as though the Impala had offended him. Mostly the problem was that the demon didn't have a particular 1926 Bently to sulk in. Instead he kicked a rock and it bounced off of Baby's tire.

He, unsuccessfully, shoved his hands into his pockets and began to walk dejectedly around the house.

He loved Castiel, he really did, more than he had when he was first born, if that was even possible. He understood why the angel wanted to Fall Michael. It was the exact same reason that Death wanted the end of the world. The leaders of heaven and hell had failed their respective subjects. Crowley just couldn't shake the cold hand clutching his throat: the hoarseness of screaming, the feeling of his wings burning. The sound as other angels hit the burning lake around him. He didn't want that for anyone.

And, with Castiel talking about Falling Michael, he could only imagine those he loved falling along with her. Aziraphale wreathed in flames, screaming and Falling toward the pit. His beautiful off-white wings greying under the burning fire. Or Castiel. The very thought of that happening to his son was enough to make his whole body shake. No, he could not let that happen. It was best to keep those he loved as far away from that as possible.

By this time he had rounded the house and made it through many of the stacks of cars. Through them he could see Castiel, facing Dean, no, Michael.

Crowley didn't think. He hated teleporting, but in that moment all he saw was that his son was possibly in danger, and his vision went red. He teleported to the just in front of Castiel.

"Goodbye Castiel," Michael said, then plunged the knife toward the angel's heart.

Crowley appeared between the angel and the Archangel. All six wings curled protectively around the angel behind him.

"NO!" He shouted, the ground beneath him shaking. His eyes glowed red.

Things happened very fast after that.

The earthquake was felt for about a mile all around, which didn't affect much of anyone besides the angel and two humans in the house. They rushed outside, weapons drawn.

When Crowley jumped in front of Castiel the ring, the pal ring, on his finger glowed. Crowley had chosen to sacrifice himself, to die instead of Castiel.

The earthquake stopped Michael's downward plunge and caused him to lose footing. This only delayed the inevitable. As soon as the shaking stopped Michael moved in a flash of speed and the knife in his hand plunged upward into Crowley's gut. The demon bent over and Michael was forced to let go of the grip on his knife.

Crowley fell to his knees, his hands loosely grabbing the knife, trying to pull it out. He leaned forward, and heaved. Vomit pooled with blood in front of him.

"Now look at what you made me do," Michael said, looking down at Crowley. "You seriously want to die for this useless angel?"

"Go to hell," Crowley choked out.

"Oh, well, that's why you always have a back up plan," Michael replied.

He turned to Castiel, who was staring in shock at the Fallen Archangel, laying in a pool of his own blood and vomit, but not dead yet, though there was a glow of Grace from the wound that was becoming more and more intense as the Archangel came closer and closer to death. Michael drew the Colt from where it was shoved into the back of Dean's pants, where he usually kept his pistol. She aimed the gun at the angel's head and pulled the trigger.

The bullet landed square in the middle of the angel's forehead. The hole smoked. It caused him to reel back and fall to the ground. It blew out the back of his head. A single drop of blood rolled down his forehead. The angel landed next to Crowley on the ground.

Bobby, Sam, and Aziraphale chose that moment to show up. Michael turned to them with a smile. It twisted Dean's face in a way that was impossibly wrong , then he vanished.

Heaven, 2010 AD

Gabriel made his way to the Archangel offices. He hadn't seen another angel since Not-Gabriel, but he wasn't trusting his luck. As he crouched in the shadows behind a chair that was in front of the door he found his mind wandering to the question of what to call their little gang..

'Team-stop-arrmeggedon' was a stupid name , soooo, how 'bout ' Team-Destroy-Lucifer' , naw, that didn't work either, they were doing more than stop Lucifer. They wanted to be able to stop the end of the world and free angels and demons the way that they had been freed. Free Will, that's what they were fighting for. Free Will . ' Team Free Will'.

Hey , that had a good ring to it.

Now Gabriel finally had a name for their little group. He had to admit that that had been digging at him for a while. He had a sense for flair and the name fit right into his sensibilities. An angel, Gabriel thought his name was Samadriel, stepped out of the offices, and Gabriel slid into the door before it could close. Keeping on a lookout for any angels, but especially Michael (after all, he couldn't know that Michael was already busy doing something else in South Dakota).

He eventually came to the door with Michael's name on it and slid it open, luckily there was no lock.

Standing in the middle of Michael's office, Gabriel smiled. He made his way to the other side of the desk and began searching through the drawers. He remembered what Crowley had told him, what Aziraphale had seen when he was pretending to be Crowley in hell. Michael had brought holy water to hell, ergo, Michael had contracts with demons, something he was pretty sure she would not like being brought to light.

First he dug through the drawers of her desk, but came up with nothing, which really was to be expected, any angel that had access to these offices could get into her desk, and then the cat would be out of the bag. So instead he looked for something that was locked.

He rummaged around the desk for some kind of secret compartment, not that he'd expect Michael to be the secret compartment kind. None of his siblings, except maybe Raph– Crowley, had really been creative enough for something like that. There was none.

Having thoroughly searched the desk he moved on to the filing cabinets behind it. He checked first for a locked drawer, when he found one, he pulled out his Archangel blade and fiddled with the lock until it broke.

He drew the door open and began to rummage through the files there. The first thing he found was a letter. It was charred around the edges as though it had been sent through hellfire. It read:

Michael ,

We seem to be in a situation where we can be mutually benefitting to each other. We each have a traitor that we find the need to dispose of. I say we trade what we need to perform the task. I will send a disposable demon up with a supply of Hellfire to kill Aziraphale if you send an angel down to us with your most powerful holy water to dispose of the traitor Crowley. Reply back to this letter as soon as you get it, and dispose of it, we cannot have it falling into the wrong hands.

First Prince of Hell

Prince of Flies

Beelzebub

Gabriel smirked. It was lucky for him that Michael could never get rid of anything, now that was going to come back and bite her in the arse. He continued to sort through the letters and other files in the drawer. There was a lot of stuff there that Gabriel could use for his benefit. He stuffed them all into his pocket, then closed the drawer, just as he heard Dean's, well, Michael's voice.

"The traitor has been dealt with," Michael said. "As has the demon, Crowley."

Gabriel felt his heart hit his throat, and not just because Michael was right outside the door seconds away from catching him.

What did Michael mean "dealt with"? He hadn't felt a Grace explosion, so Crowley could be dead.

At least… not yet.

Gabriel flapped his wings and vanished from inside the office, heading as fast as he could toward where he knew his brother should be.

Notes:

I'm really not sorry... We are *so close* to the point that I am totally looking forward to!!!!!

Chapter 29: Interlude

Chapter Text

The South Downs, England, 1991 AD

It was actually happening, Crowley couldn't believe it. She was actually shaking. After everything they had been through, they were finally going to do it.

The garden behind their new cottage looked wonderful. Crowley had done a good shouting to all of the plants to make sure that they grew properly and looked perfect. Perfect for today.

Because today Crowley was getting married. To Aziraphale.

She was wearing a black dress with a long train, and a golden snake belt. Anathema was currently doing her hair with gold and ruby pins.

Crowley was female because they couldn't legally get married by human standards if they were both male-presenting. Angelic marriage didn't care about that, all they needed for that was an Archangel willing to sign their papers, and Crowley had a deep dark secret that she wasn't even going to tell Aziraphale. It made her feel guilty, but she didn't want to drag up her past. She would be the Archangel signing their papers, or, at least, Raphael would be.

"All done." Anathema said, putting the last pin in her hair.

Crowley nervously gripped the arms of her throne (they'd moved all of her favourite things from her flat to the cottage before they sold it, including, much to Aziraphale's disappointment, what he had labelled "the hideous statue").

Anathema handed Crowley the bouquet of roses. It was a mix of plain red and cream-and-pink earth angel roses. She took a deep breath, trying to settle her pounding heart.

Anathema opened the back door and stepped out, walking down the aisle to take her seat next to her husband Newt. The backyard looked like a white and tartan explosion. The Them had helped Aziraphale decorate, and, though it was not Crowley's style, it was so Aziraphale , Crowley couldn't help but smile.

Adam, Crowley's nephew, though Crowley would never actually tell the boy that fact, was standing on the back porch holding a basket of flower petals, a giant smile split across his face.

(Aziraphale had originally suggested Pepper be the flower girl, but she said that the only reason he had picked her was because she was, well, a girl, and she didn't see why they couldn't have a flower boy. At which Adam had begged for the position).

Adam took one of Crowley's hands and led her down the aisle while throwing flower petals from his basket. Crowley smiled warmly at the child.

She looked up and saw Aziraphale gazing at her. He had insisted on a white wedding, by which it meant that while Crowley's wedding dress was pure back, his suit was pure white, and he looked stunning, standing there, smiling at Crowley.

Finally, after millenia, if they were together, they would get their happy ending, no more heaven and hell. Finally.

Adam let go of Crowley's hand and she took Aziraphale's. They stared into each other's eyes (Crowley was not wearing her glasses) in adoration.

Crowley hardly heard what the minister said, she was captivated by Aziraphale's eyes.

When they exchanged rings Crowley slid a small golden snake onto Aziraphale's hand, and he slid a silver feather onto hers.

Not long after that they were kissing, and Aziraphale was her husband, and it was perfect.

Well… almost perfect. There was one person missing. A baby that Crowley had held in her arms almost two thousand years before. A baby she had never, and probably would never, see again.

Castiel .

Chapter 30: Chapter 20

Notes:

this was BY FAR, my favourite chapter to write!!!!

Chapter Text

Michael's Office, Heaven, 2010 AD

The leader of God's armies sat at her desk, waiting. He knew it was coming soon, the ignition of what was left of Raphael's Grace when his true form exploded. Like with Gabriel, she would be able to feel it as it happened.

Instead, she felt Gabriel, the Real Gabriel, not the knock off one. The one she had killed . He was using his power in desperation, trying to heal someone. How the hell was he alive?

She got up and ran a hand down Dean Winchester's face. She had killed Gabriel, she had felt him die!

Well, it didn't matter, even he couldn't heal Raphael now. He chuckled.

And then, there it was.

The grace ignited, spreading out, exploding. Raphael , it whispered in the minds of every angel.

It didn't matter that Gabriel was somehow alive, because that no good, mettling demon was dead, and that was all that mattered.

No more Raphael, no more Crowley. And with Crowley dead, well, Aziraphale would be broken, and their little group wouldn't be able to stand against Michael and Lucifer.

Sam would say yes.

And, even if he didn't, the apocalypse was on. Finally, she would meet Lucifer in the field and destroy him.

She couldn't wait.

Sioux Falls, South Dakota, 2010 AD

Castiel heaved in a strained breath and sat up. He reached for his forehead.

"That… hurt," he said.

Sam was staring at him in shock. Castiel realised why. That was the Colt, the gun that could kill anything. He should have died. He should have poofed from existence. Instead, he hadn't even been discorporated.

He placed his hand on his forehead where the bullet went in. The wound was closing up. In seconds it was gone. He placed a hand on the back of his head, where the bullet had exited, but that wound had disappeared too.

"What the hell?" Sam exclaimed.

Most of the time Castiel was adverse to the Winchester's common use of profanity and blasphemy, but in this moment, he felt that it was warranted.

What the hell indeed?

Once he saw that Castiel was fine Aziraphale dropped down next to his husband and looked down at the wound in his stomach.

"Crowley?"

Crowley smiled weakly, looking back into Aziraphale's eyes.

"I had to," the demon said. "She would have killed him otherwise. I had no choice. I'm sorry."

Tears began to stream out of the angel's face. Castiel crawled over to his side and put an arm around him. There was nothing Aziraphale could do, not against an Archangel blade, not to heal a demon.

There was the sound of wings behind them and both angels turned to see Gabriel appear where Michael had been. The Archangel saw them. At first he let out a relieved breath when he saw Castiel living and fine, then he saw the tears on Aziraphale's face, and just knew . He knew that something terrible had happened.

He pushed past the angel and principality and saw the scene. He dropped to his knees next to his brother. The Archangel blade was sticking out of his gut, and Gabriel knew that there was nothing he could do.

He tried anyway.

He dropped down next to the demon and carefully pulled the knife out of him, before putting his hands on the wound.

"It's okay, I can save you, you won't die! You can't…" He was crying, he could feel tears streaming down his face as he poured his grace fruitlessly into healing his brother. But he couldn't.

He was an Archangel; he should have been able to do something. But, an angel could not heal a demon, just as a demon could not heal an angel.

"It's okay, Gabriel," Crowley said weakly.

Gabriel let out a scream of desperation. He had only just gotten his brother back, and now he had lost him. Every piece of glass in a mile radius shattered. The windows and windshields of all the cars in the salvage yard, the windows of Bobby's house, and all his lights. Even Dean's precious Impala's glass shattered at the sound.

Only a demon could heal a demon.

Only an Archangel could heal damage done by an Archangel blade.

The only living being who would be able to save Crowley would be… Lucifer.

Or Raphael, Raphael had been able to cure anything, even damage wrought by a Hand of God.

Aziraphale and Gabriel's eyes turned to Castiel, who looked distraught, staring down at the demon who had sacrificed his life for him.

Castiel was half Archangel.

Not only that, he was half Raphael.

And half demon.

Hope flared in Gabriel's chest.

"Castiel," he said.

The angel turned his gaze toward him.

Gabriel could see Crowley fading, it was now or never.

"You try," the Archangel said.

"Me?" Castiel asked. "If you and Az–"

Gabriel saw understanding bloom in Aziraphale's eyes. He had realised the same thing Gabriel had. Gabriel knew that Aziraphale and Crowley hadn't wanted to tell Castiel if they didn't have to, but this was literally a life or death situation.

"Just… try," the angel said.

Confused, Castiel complied. He placed his hands above Gabriel's, over the wound. The Archangel slid back and he watched Grace ignite in the angel's eyes. He could tell Castiel was focusing, he was trying, and he pushed to the limits of his Grace. Then, the light in his eyes began to fade. Castiel wasn't an Archangel, he wasn't powerful enough.

Crowley was going to die.

But, just when Gabriel felt his hope deflate, just when Castiel reached the end of his Grace, something clicked .

Gabriel could feel it, and he could tell Aziraphale could too. Castiel's Grace ignited. The bright light in his eyes changed from blue to pure gold, with red at the fringes.

Oh , Castiel wasn't just half Archangel. He wasn't able to access Archangel radio because he was Raphael's son. He was… He was…

Light poured from Crowley's wound, but it wasn't his essence escaping, it wasn't him dying. It was Castiel's grace lighting up as it healed the demon . It worked.

The angel stepped back, staring down at his hands in shock, probably wondering how it was possible that he had done that. Aziraphale and Crowley would have to tell him now. There would be no other way to explain this away. To explain away the fact that a first tier angel was actually… was actually…

Castiel was an Archangel.

Crowley sat up off the ground. His clothes were still covered in his blood, and he was sitting in a pool of sick. He needed a shower, desperately.

Aziraphale didn't care. He pulled his husband into his arms and held him tight.

"I thought I'd lost you," Aziraphale said. "I thought you were going to die."

"Did… did Castiel…?"

Aziraphale and Crowley both looked over at their son, who was pale as death, looking between his hands and the living demon. He looked like he was in shock.

Sam came over and placed a hand on the angel's shoulder, leading him back toward the house.

"We have to tell him," Aziraphale said. "We can't avoid it any longer."

Crowley nodded as his husband helped him to his feet. The two of them followed the rest of their group toward Bobby's house. Crowley leaned on Aziraphale's shoulder, regardless of the fact that he didn't need to.

"That's not going to be easy," Crowley whispered.

Aziraphale pulled him closer.

"It'll be fine."

Chapter 31: Chapter 21 (a.k.a. The Existential Crisis Begins)

Notes:

Some of you might have noticed the added tag of "Cas fell in love with Dean in Hell." That was for this chapter! Enjoy!

Chapter Text

Sioux Falls, South Dakota, America, 2010 AD

Castiel was staring at his hands, which were slightly shaking. What had he just done? How had he done that? Castiel had no idea. What was he? An angel shouldn't have been able to do that. Crowley was a demon ; a demon impaled by an archangel blade . What had Castiel done? What was that power?

Sam slowly guided Cas into Bobby's house and to the couch. The angel sat down and stared at his hands in his lap. He had done something, something exponentially outside of his abilities. There was no way that an angel would have been able to do what he just did. What was wrong with him?

Was he Falling?? Is that what was going on? He could heal a demon because he was already on his way to Hell?

He felt himself shiver at the thought. He'd been to hell, he'd waded through the monstrous hoards as he had made his way to get to Dean. Dean, the shining soul among all the darkness and evil. He had shone brighter than a million suns from where he stood in the centre of the pit, and after nearly a decade of fighting to get to him, he took Castiel's breath away.

But he hadn't been able to get to him right away. They had arrived. The Fallen. Those who had once been angels before they were twisted and corrupted. Castiel had been able to see their true forms, the beauty of what they had used to be, twisted and mangled.

A once virtue turned on him and the angel had drawn his angel blade tears in his eyes as he saw the corruption on what was once a beautiful sibling of his. Their beauty had turned to hideousness, their halo had cracked into horns, big, red horns. It had hurt, killing them, knowing what they had been, before they had Fallen.

Then, there had been the throne, their wheels burnt and broken. The fire of the Lord within them was nothing but coals. Castiel had to shatter each wheel before they had died.

Then the Seraphim, what was once one of the highest angels, Fallen to nothing. Their three heads, transformed from their beauty but recognisable for what they were. Their three halos, like the virtue's, were cracked to hideous horns. They had left scratches in Castiel's true form, but he had taken them out, eventually.

He had waded through them all, destroyed them all, they had left marks on him, and by the time he had made it though, he had been crying tears of pure pain. All those Fallen angels. All the beautiful things turned astray and destroyed by Lucifer.

If Castiel was Falling, that was what he would become. Some shell of what he had been created to be, some kind of monster.

He remembered the look in Dean's eyes when he had seen them, seen their true form. Castiel had placed a hand on Dean's left shoulder, and pulled him toward themself. Dean's glowing soul had held them close and Castiel hadn't wanted to let go. They just wanted to stand there with Dean Winchester forever.

He hadn't realised it until later, but that was the moment he began to fall in love with the man.

Is that when he had begun to Fall?

They had guided Dean back through the layers of hell. They gave the human their angel blade, and neither of them could let go of each other.

Before, Dean had been nothing but a job to the angel, but now… now, if anything had happened to Dean, it would have destroyed them.

Castiel only knew of one angel who fell in love: Aziraphale, and things had not gone well for him.

But he had fallen in love with a demon.

And he wasn't Fallen.

Just before Castiel returned Dean to his newly rebuilt body, they had held the soul close and whispered to him I love you .

The soul had shown even brighter at those words.

And I you . He had replied.

I'll find you , Castiel told him. On Earth .

You better, Dean replied, his soul had smiled.

Then he had kissed him, or, well, as close to a kiss as you could do when one was soul and the other was in their raw angelic form.

It had been wonderful.

But then, when Dean had woken in his body once more, he had not remembered Castiel.

The most painful words that Castiel had ever heard was Dean's question "Who are you?"

Castiel had hoped and hoped that Dean would remember, he had pleaded with him to. But he had not. It seemed that their time in the pit had been wiped from the hunter's mind. He did not remember falling in love with him.

He hadn't even been able to hear Castiel's voice when he had returned to his body, returned to their earth.

Then Castiel had been reprogrammed, and he had forgotten him as well, but not for long. He had come back. Then he was killed by Sammael.

He had betrayed heaven for Dean Winchester.

He had killed angels for Dean Winchester.

That's why he was Falling. He had chosen Dean Winchester over God.

That's why he had been able to heal Crowley.

Castiel felt something inside him shatter. He began to cry.

Sam leaned over and placed his hands on the angel's shoulders, trying to talk to Cas, trying to figure out what was wrong.

Castiel was Falling. He was Falling because of how much he loved Dean Winchester, and he couldn't find it in himself to be guilty about it. If he could go back in time and change things so that he didn't Fall, he wouldn't.

He was not an angel anymore, and he didn't care, not as long as Dean was alive.

"How are we going to tell him?" Crowley asked.

Gabriel stopped them before they could enter the house. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

"He's an Archangel," Gabriel said, his eyes lighting up.

"What?" Crowley and Aziraphale asked in unison.

"Castiel is an Archangel, capital A."

"I… I thought he was a Seraph," Aziraphale said.

Crowley looked over at his husband in surprise. "I thought he was ranked as an angel?"

Aziraphale nodded. "He was, and that's what I thought he was, but when you were arguing, two more pairs of wings opened up that I hadn't seen before."

"Double ranked Archangel Seraphim," Gabriel realised. "His powers must have been muted until now. They were only released during intense emotion. The fact that he met you might also be part of it."

"So, Castiel is a powerful Archangel," Crowley concluded.

"And also a powerful demon," Aziraphale finished.

"What?"

"When Castiel was healing you, his eyes were glowing gold and red. Gold is the typical Archangel power colour, but red is the typical colour for high ranking demons. Red or yellow are the colours of the princes of hell."

"You're saying that Castiel is a Prince of Hell?" Gabriel asked.

Aziraphale nodded.

"Crowley used to serve under Beelzebub, and they showed up when we tried to stop the Apocalypse, when they used their power their eyes glowed red, like Castiel's were."

"It's also the colour Lucifer's eyes glow when he uses his demonic powers," Crowley continued.

"Let's keep that on the down low," Gabriel said. "I think that piece of information might kill the angel. I don't think he'd be happy to know that some of his powers are similar to Lucie's. It's gonna be hard enough for Cassie as is."

"Right," Crowley said.

He took Aziraphale's hand as the three of them walked into the house. Sam was standing in front of Castiel who had his head bowed, staring at his hands.

"Cassie!" Gabriel said.

The angel looked up at him, there was a weakness in his blue eyes that there hadn't been before.

"There's something we need to tell you," Aziraphale began.

"I know," Castiel said.

The other three angels were taken aback, how did Castiel figure it out so quickly?

"You do?" Gabriel asked, his shock evident in his tone, he crossed his arms.

A tear slid down Castiel's face. "Yes, I'm Falling."

Chapter 32: Chapter 22

Notes:

I apologise in advance if any of my formatting is off! My computer won't connect to my hotspot so I had to do this on my phone :( this also means that the next chapter might be a little late… sorry :( I'll try to go to the library so I can have it done on time.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sioux Falls, South Dekota, 2010 A.D.

Sam was standing in front of Castiel who had his head bowed, staring at his hands. Sam was worried about the angel. Whatever he had done outside had clearly left him distressed, and Sam wanted to be able to help him, but he didn't know how. Dean was the one who had always understood how to deal with Cas.

Hell, Sam was sure that his brother was in love with the angel. Even if he wouldn't admit it.

"Cassie!" Gabriel called, walking through the door.

The angel looked up at him, there was a weakness in his blue eyes that there hadn't been before. Tears actually seemed on the verge of falling..

"There's something we need to tell you," Aziraphale began.

"I know," Castiel said.

It was clear to Sam that the other three angels were surprised by this observation.

"You do?" Gabriel asked, his shock evident in his tone, he crossed his arms.

A tear broke across Castiel's barrier. "Yes, I'm Falling."

The words made Sam freeze. Cas was Falling? Like, the followers of Lucifer were cast from heaven Falling? Like, no longer an angel, now a demon Falling? How could that be happening?

"NO." Crowley said, quickly, running toward Castiel's side. "No, Cas, you're not Falling."

He gently wrapped an arm around Castiel. There was a pain in Crowley's expression, as though the very idea of Castiel Falling left him in distress, which didn't make sense. The demon had known Castiel for what? A few days? Not even a week.

"You're not Falling, Castiel," Aziraphale echoed the demon, sitting on the angel's other side.

He looked up at the two supernatural beings in confusion. He stood up, extracting himself from their embrace.

"How could I do what I just did if I wasn't Falling? I healed a demon !"

"Because you're half demon," Gabriel said.

Castiel spun around to stare at the Archangel, who put a lollipop into his mouth and shrugged.

"GABRIEL!" Both Aziraphale and Crowley shouted at the same time.

"What?" Gabriel asked with a shrug. "Rip the band aid off fast, right?"

Castiel looked between Crowley, and Gabriel. The two Archangels were having a glaring contest. Sam just watched on in silent shock. Castiel was half demon? Was Gabriel telling the truth? How did that work?

"I don't understand," the angel said, tentatively.

He was half demon? What? How could he be half anything? It wasn't like he had been born , he was an angel . He had been created shortly after Adam and Eve had been expelled from the garden. He had watched creation grow and change through the millenia. He knew who he was. What Gabriel was saying didn't make any sense.

Aziraphale carefully stood up and approached Castiel, like he was a wounded animal. Which he wasn't. No angel should look at a fellow soldier with so much love , so much compassion , least of all a mated angel.

"Castiel, we wanted to tell you, but we were worried that you wouldn't take it well," the angel spoke in a soothing voice, as though Castiel were a small human child in need of comfort.

"Tell me what?" the angel growled.

"The reason you could heal Crowley is not because you're Falling," Aziraphale began.

"You're our son," Crowley finished gently.

"What?" Castiel asked, shocked.

That was not possible. Angels did not have children. Aziraphale and Crowley had only been together since after the first apocalypse, and Castiel remembered the first apocalypse, vividly. He was not some twenty-year-old fledgling with an altered memory. He couldn't be.

"No," Castiel said. "No. That's not possible. I remember millenia. I remember the flood, the plagues, the battle of megiddo, the fall of Jerhico, the battle of Troy, the reign of King David, the burning of the library of Alexandria, the birth of Jesus. I remember all of that! I'm not some fledgling!"

Even as Castiel spoke. There was something tugging at his thoughts, at his memories, unwinding them. His hands as he had remembered them did not match any corporations he'd ever had. He remembered all those things, but he remembered them as though they were a movie he had watched. Very life-like, but not real. Not his .

The panic and realisation must have shown in his eyes.

Aziraphale hung his head. "To make sure that no one in heaven was suspicious of you, we had to be sure that even you would believe the story that we told them. Those are my memories in your head. I also removed everything from your life before you got to heaven."

Castiel glared at the angel in front of him. Aziraphale did what ? He messed with Castiel's mind? How could he trust anything about himself now? What was he? Why…

"I can set you back to rights," Aziraphale offered.

" No ," the angel growled back. He didn't want anyone anywhere near his mind. Never ever again. First there was Naomi's 'corrections' now he knew that Aziraphale had messed with his mind too?

The angel took a step back at Castiel's reaction. He at least could tell that Castiel needed space.

"So… most of my memories are yours , because I'm your son? Who is half demon?"

"Half Fallen Archangel," Gabriel clarified.

Castiel glared at him. "And you knew ? For how long? "

"When I met you I knew there was something wrong with your aura. It was all jumbled. And I didn't remember you being one of the fledglings in heaven when I ran away. I could sense a part of your aura had Raphael written on it, so I went hunting. That's how I found Aziraphale and Crowley, and got them to help us."

"And you guys didn't tell me when you joined us?" Castiel shot at his parents, who sat sheepishly under his glare.

"We didn't want you to freak out." Crowley said. "We knew that it would shake your view of yourself, we didn't want to tell you unless we had to."

"But when we realised that you were the only one who could heal Crowley…"

The room around Castiel was spinning.

"So, how much of what I know about myself is true?" He demanded.

"You were born in 33 AD, all your memories from the early church onward are real."

Everything before 33 AD… that was most of Castiel's memories. Most of his knowledge. His head spun. He wasn't even 2000 years old. He hadn't even experienced a third of the history that he had thought he had. He was the youngest angel.

He wasn't even an angel.

He was half Nephil [1] half Cambion [2, but because both of his parents came from angelic stock he exhibited traits that were often only found in pure angels. He didn't have a body that he was tied to like a normal Cambion or Nephil did. He had a true angelic form, although he doubted that the one that he had seen was his actual angelic form.

His head continued to spin. The room spun with it, and suddenly the angel couldn't stand it. He opened his wings, and flew away from the room.

"Well… that happened," Gabriel said, staring at the place where the angel had been.

"He did not take that well," Aziraphale said.

Sam was just staring at the three angels as they stared at the place where Castiel had been.

"Well, aren't you going to follow him?" Sam asked.

Gabriel shook his head. "He needs space, the least we can do it give that to him."

Sam sighed. "I just… He looked freaked."

"He probably is, ya idjit." Bobby snapped. "Everything he thought he knew about himself was just proven wrong." The older hunter turned toward the three occult beings. "Which was not a good way to deal with a delicate situation."

"Can you think of a better way?" Gabriel demanded.

Bobby only huffed.

The room grew silent.

"Well, we still have an apocalypse on our hands! How are we going to deal with that?"

That got them moving again

Notes:

11 Singular of Nephilim, child of an angel and a human. [return to text]

22The child of a demon and a human. [return to text]

Chapter 33: Chapter 23

Notes:

Sam translates the Exorcism that is used in Supernatural in this chapter, because I decided to put myself though the pain of working with Latin... fun...

Anyway, the translation Sam uses might be slightly different than the one that you would find if you looked it up. I'm having Sam translate it word for word, while most translations use thought for thought. Just know that it might be different, but that doesn't necessarily make it wrong.

(That isn't to say that I'm necessarily right, I've only taken two years to Latin, and that was five years ago, so I'm still plenty rusty. If you catch any translation mistakes, please tell. Especially later on (in a future chapter) when the second exorcism is read).

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Peak of Mount Everest, 2010 AD

He landed on the peak of mount Everest, as far away from the rest of creation as he could get. He dropped down in the snow and turned off his lungs. There was no need to cause his corporation to try to struggle for oxygen he didn't need.

What was he? Some kind of mixed, perverted creature that should not exist. He wasn't an angel. He wasn't a demon.

He was a monster. No better than the creatures that the Winchester brothers killed. No better than the creatures that Dean killed.

Tears began to fall unbidden down Castiel's face. He stared off at the horizon, letting them fall.

For over a year he had been begging with Dean in his head to remember that he loved him, but it was better that he did not. It was better for Castiel to finish this job, save the world, then let Dean go and live his life. Maybe find a woman and get married, raise a family, have his apple pie life dream.

That's what Castiel would do.

He was a monster that should not exist, and he would make sure that Dean would be okay. That Dean and Sam would be happy, and then he would vanish. Maybe run away to Alpha Centauri and stay there for the rest of eternity.

Castiel snapped his fingers and a pad of paper appeared in his hand with a pen. He quickly wrote a note on it. He ripped the note off the pad and put it in the pocket of his trenchcoat. It was a promise to himself.

He was an abomination. A monster. He would leave as soon as Dean was saved, because he would save him. Dean deserved to be saved. He definitely deserved to be saved, much more than Castiel did.

He would get Dean his happy ending, and then he would leave, and never come back.

Sioux Falls, South Dakota, 2010 AD

"Death told me that the exorcism could work," Crowley said.

Aziraphale and Gabriel turned toward him.

"Yes, Dear?" Aziraphale asked.

"Well, if we can exorcise Michael, then maybe Castiel's plan could work."

Gabriel opened his mouth, but Aziraphale sent him a glare. The Principality was plenty scary when he wanted to be, and he was still pissed with Gabriel for the way he had given Castiel the news of his parentage.

"He might have been on to something," Crowley continued. "I… still don't like the idea of it. But if the choice is either Fall Michael or let the world end, Falling Michael is infinitely better."

The demon sighed.

"Okay," Sam said, standing up. "But… We can't use a normal exorcism."

Sam reached for a book sitting on Bobby's desk. He stood before the two angels and the demon, who were all sitting on Bobby's couch. He opened the book and began to read.

" Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus ," he read in Latin. "We exorcise thee, every unclean spirit." He continued like that, pointing out all the language that referred directly to demons and hell. . " Omnis satanica potestas , all Satanic power, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii , ever insurrection of an infernal enemy, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica . every legion, every congregation and devilish sect.

"Ergo draco maledicte, therefore, the cursed dragon, et omnis legio diabolica, and every devil's legion, adjuramus te, we swear to you. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, stop deceiving human creatures. eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare, and drink the poison of eternal perdition.

" Vade, Satana, inventor et magister, leave, Satan , inventor and teacher, omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Every deceit is an enemy of human salvation .

" Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, humble yourself under the mighty hand of God, contremisce et effuge, invocato, tremble and flee, invoking, nobis sancto et terribili nomine , our holy and terrible name, quem inferi tremunt, to which, Hell trembles.

" Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine . Deliver us, O Lord, from the snares of the devil. Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire , To make your Church feel safe to serve you with freedom, te rogamus, audi nos , beseech thee to hear us. Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris , May you deign to humble the enemies of the holy Church te rogamus, audi nos . beseech thee to hear us.

" Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo. Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem et fortitudinem plebi Suae. Benedictus deus. Gloria patri. God is terrible at his sanctuary. The God of Israel has thrust out power and the strength of his people. Blessed be God. Glory."

He threw down the book and glared down at his audience as they watched him. They seemed like they didn't get the point. Aziraphale was giving him a look that clearly broadcasted go on, we're listening . Gabriel was smirking in a way that made Sam uncomfortable. Crowley was kind of glaring at him.

The only person in the room who seemed to understand was Bobby. He was giving Sam a look that was a mix between (Bobby's form of) praise and a glare that seemed to say, explain it to the idjits, idjit .

Sam took a deep breath and turned back toward the millenia-old supernatural beings who should be smarter than this. He groaned.

"Guys, we can't call down the power of heaven and the protection of the church, against the viceroy or heaven and leader of God's armies. We can't possibly use an exorcism on Michael!"

"Not that one," Aziraphale said, smiling at Sam as though he were a cute puppy who had only just come to the conclusion that his tail was not a toy to play with.

Sam did not like being looked at like that. Sure, he wasn't as smart as the other beings in the room, all of whom were older than them. Castiel, he'd just found out, was close to two millennia old, and that was young compared to the others, all of whom had been alive before creation. Still, Sam was smart for a human, and he could stand his own. Plus, he'd just made a rather good point, in his opinion, that they seemed to be ignoring.

If they saved the world and stopped Lucifer and Michael, was Sam going to have to deal with these people for the rest of his life? Dean– it was obvious– was in love with Cas, and Sam was pretty sure— though not certain, he didn't know enough about angels to be certain– that Castiel was in love with Dean. Did that mean that Aziaphale and Crowley were going to become part of his family? Sam didn't think he could deal with that.

"But we could change the words," Aziraphale continued. "I'm still fluent in Latin from my days in Rome, and you don't seem to be too bad yourself. I'm sure together we could edit the exorcism to work in our favour."

Okay, so maybe the angel had a point.

"Okay then," Sam agreed.

Bobby, Aziraphale, and Sam spent the rest of the day reading through the exorcism and changing it so that it could work on Michael. Gabriel and Crowley went to spar in the backyard, since they were both rusty, and since Crowley would be fighting Lucifer, and Michael Gabriel, they needed to be as good as possible.

"What ever happened to your staff?" Gabriel asked as he ducked under Cowley's blade.

Crowley sighed, looking off toward the middle distance, toward the sky. Gabriel swung toward his stomach and Crowley took a step back.

"Burned up when I Fell," the demon informed his brother. "Part of the reason I bear snake characteristics is because of the snake on my staff. It kind of fused together with me somehow."

"That's… weird…" Very intelligent words from the messenger Archangel.

Crowley shrugged and the brother's stepped back, circling one another once more.

Inside the house, Aziraphale was explaining something important to Sam and Bobby.

"Spells are about intent ," the angel said. "The only reason that virgins are required for some sacrifices is because they are seen as pure. Because the person casting the spell believes that they are pure. In the same way, we can lean on that for this."

He pulled at the piece of paper where they had written both the latin and English forms of the exorcism before beginning.

"Because of that, we can leave this part," he pointed to the line that read ' Cessa decipere humanas creaturas ,' in Latin and 'stop deceiving human creatures.' "Because we believe that Michael is deceiving people, especially your brother, to get them to stand with her."

Sam studied the exorcism and made note of Aziraphale's point, finding other sections where they could make similar decisions and lighten the translation load.

They were not sure to win, they were still outgunned, outmanned, outnumbered, outplanned but now they had the beginnings a plan. All they had to do was act it out.

Notes:

I trust you'll understand the reference to another Scottish tragedy without my having to name the play...

Oh also, I'm almost done with Supernatural!!! I'm putting off the next chapter though until my mom is not around, bc I know that I am going to freak out... It's 15.18...

Update: I'm sobbing. Castiel loved the whole world because Dean did. Omc, that was the most beautiful and heart wrenching thing I have ever seen.

#Destieldeservesbetter

Anyone know any good (no smut) 15.18-15.20 fix-its? I need some happiness and hope in my life. There's a reason they changed the episode name to "despair"

Chapter 34: Chapter 24

Notes:

In case you did not notice in the notes for the last chapter, I have, finally, watched 15.18. First of all: Cas' love confession is the most beautiful love confession ever. Second of all: confession time: I finished this chapter right after watching it so... 15.18 feels coming your way!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Deep in Dean's Mind, 1 Day Before the End of The World

Dean had seen it happen. Had watched his own traitorous hands kill Castiel (and Crowley). He'd had to watch, Michael had made sure he was watching, as he drew the gun, pointed it at Castiel's head, and fired. He'd watched the aftermath, watched the bullet hit its mark and Castiel's brain spread out on the tree behind him. He'd watched the angel fall to the ground. And although he knew that he was not the one doing it, that she was, he couldn't help but feel like it was all his fault.

He had killed the love of his life.

There was no one in his life he had trusted like Castiel. Sam was his brother, and he mattered to him so much . Dean would do anything for Sam. He'd sold his soul for his brother and endured decades of torment in Hell. Sam was family, he mattered more to Dean than anyone else in his life. But he couldn't trust him.

The fact was, Dean had raised Sam, Sam would always feel more like his child than his brother. Sam would always be little Sammy, who he had done everything in his life to protect. So, no, he couldn't trust Sam. They couldn't mutually support one another.

The first person Dean could ever truly trust was Castiel.

Castiel, who gave up everything for Dean. Castiel who pulled Dean out of hell. Castiel, who sacrificed himself to be torn apart by Sammael, to allow Dean to save Sam.

And, sure, Castiel came back from that, but that didn't make the sacrifice any less meaningful.

Zachariah had tortured his family. He'd threatened Bobby, and Sam, and although Dean was terrified, he had faith that he could protect them, that he could save them, that he could bring them back, because he was there for them. He could carry them. That was what Dean did.

Castiel, on the other hand, had weaselled his way into Dean's heart. He had stood by him, and supported him, while others couldn't. But he'd also let Dean help him . Dean couldn't live in a relationship where he wasn't able to guide and protect his partner, because that's just who Dean was. But, he also needed someone he could rely on, someone to be strong when he couldn't be.

Castiel… he was everything.

He was an all powerful angel, who could hold his own in a fight. Who could fight his way through hell and save Dean; but, he was also a dorky, socially awkward guy that needed Dean's help on how to be human.

One moment, Castiel was this unfathomable, awe inspiring being, the next, he was socially awkward, shy, and looking to Dean for help.

It was totally hot.

And Dean had slowly and surely given his heart away to the angel, one day at a time.

That was all without talking about what the guy looked like. And yeah, Castiel was always pointing out that technically this was not actually what he looked like, this was just a corporation, because the sight of his true being would burn Dean's eyes out. He had told him a couple times that his true form was roughly the size of the Chrysler building… and… wow. But, also, the body did belong to Cas. It was Cas' body, even if it's not technically what he looks like.

And it was hot.

So, yeah, it wasn't hard for Dean to fall for Castiel.

He had done a good job at hiding it though, at least, he thought he had.

It seems not. It seemed that Zachariah had read him like an open book. Especially after what he had seen in the bonkers alternate reality.

Sure, seeing Sam as Satan had been bad.

Seeing what he would become, some heartless leader, had been bad too.

But, Cas . Castiel. The angel that he loves, had been gone . He had been stripped away, replaced with a broken human who drowned himself in drugs and sex, and it had broken Dean's heart in two.

It had also been the moment that he realised that he was so torn up by what had become of the angel because he was in love with him. It had hit him like a brick between the eyes.

He was in love with Cas.

So, naturally, when he had come back, he had wanted nothing more than to pull him close, and know for certain that he was still him . Still Cas. Still Dean's Cas.

He hadn't. He hadn't because Dean was nothing, had nothing, that he could give Castiel. Castiel was an angel , he could never love Dean the way Dean loves Cas, and that was a fact.

So instead, he told Cas, never change .

Then Zachariah and Michael had threatened Cas, and Michael had held up her hands, and told him that with a snap of her fingers, Castiel would be gone. Dead.

Dean couldn't let that happen. He had seen what had become of Castiel after Sammael had destroyed him. And sure, God had resurrected Cas that time, but Dean couldn't have been sure She would do it again.

So he had said yes.

And Michael had made a promise.

A promise that she had broken. A promise that had meant nothing.

Because Castiel was dead. Dead by Dean's own hand (even if he wasn't the one controlling it at the time).

Dean felt like someone had ripped out his soul. It hurt , the pain of knowing that Castiel was no longer alive. It hurt more even then the thought of Cas leaving them and never coming back after the apocalypse was over (a thought that Dean had had many a night while trying to sleep, and tried to ignore) because at least then that would be Cas' choice, and even if it wasn't, Cas would still be living, could still be happy.

But now, Cas was gone. Gone to wherever angels go after they die (which certainly wasn't heaven) and he would never see him again. Cas would never smile again. Never tilt his head in that confused way that made Dean's heart beat faster and his stomach flip. Would never purse his lips in that confused expression that Dean wished that he could kiss off. Would never again be confused by one of Dean's pop-culture references.

Dean screamed.

He beat against the walls of the room where Michael had his trapped, deep in his own mind. The pain that he felt as his fists hit the wood was at least something , something where there was nothing but emptiness, absence, the loss of Cas.

"LET ME OUT YOU BITCH" Dean screamed. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HEAD, BASTARD!"

He slammed his hands harder and harder against the door, screaming and crying out. He had to get out of his mind, he had to take control, he had to kick Michael out. He had to do something . Nothing else mattered. Dean's life didn't even matter, because Cas was gone .

Dean screamed at the top of his lungs.

"WE HAD A DEAL! WE HAD A DEAL, YOU DICK. YOU COULDN'T HARM CAS! YOU COULDN'T TOUCH HIM! YOU KILLED HIM, YOU HEARTLESS BITCH, YOU UGLY BASTARD. SO GET THE HELL OUT OF MY BODY! NOW!"

"Oh, Dean," a voice said behind him.

He turned around to see Micahel, looking like she had back before she'd possessed Dean. Back when she'd been in her corporation.

"That's not how this goes," she said with a soft smile. "You see, once you say yes, I'm in here for as long as I want to be. You can't kick me out. I'm an Archangel ."

Dean glared at her.

"When I gave you permission to use me as your vessel, you promised you would not harm Cas!"

She chuckled airily.

"I lied."

Then, she was gone, and Dean was left alone.

His legs gave out from under him, and he slid down the wall. He curled his knees into himself and began to cry, and cry, and cry. His whole body shook with racking sobs. It had been years since he'd let himself do this, and although he didn't have a body, it still felt good to let himself feel. His father had always told him that emotion wasn't something that real men showed, and so he hadn't even cried like when Sammy had died.

Then, the room around him began to disintegrate, like it usually did when Michael wanted to show him something, like she'd done when she'd killed Crowley and Cas.

But that's not what was happening this time.

Dean was underwater. He fought against it and pulled himself toward the surface, but there was no surface in sight. He opened his eyes and struggled, the salt burned them. He felt his lungs burn (even though he didn't have lungs right now). He struggled against the water, screaming worlessly into its depths.

Heaven, 1 Day Before the End of The World

Michael rolled his shoulders and looked into the mirror on the wall of her office. Dean had finally shut up, and now that that was taken care of, she could deal with what was important. She could find Lucifer. Even if he didn't have his true vessel, that didn't matter much. She did, and it was time for the world to end.

Finally.

Notes:

Y YO A TI, CAS

Chapter 35: Chapter 25

Notes:

Here, have some more angsty Castiel angst...

Chapter Text

Sioux Falls, South Dakota, 1 Day Before the End of the World

Castiel reappeared with the sound of wings. The others had almost completed their translation work when he did. The angel brushed past them and headed toward Bobby's basement without a word. He made his way down the basement steps until he reached the large devil's trap set up in the middle of the floor. He studied it warily.

It was now or never. If Cas was going to prove that he really was what Gabriel, Crowley, and Aziraphale said he was, then he had to do it now.

He stepped down from the step and into the devil's trap. He immediately felt his head spin.

He made his way toward the other side of the circle, but when he reached the edge he rebounded as though he hit an invisible wall. That's all he needed to know the truth.

Castiel fell to his knees and dropped his head into his hands.

He really was a monster. He really was an unnatural, twisted creature that should never have existed. He was not worthy of Dean Winchester's love, even if the hunter never remembered it. He had never been worthy. Dean was the righteous man, and Castiel was a twisted perverted thing that called itself an angel.

Castiel's whole body wracked with sobs.

There were footsteps on the stairs and Castiel turned to see Sam standing there, taking in the sight of the angel on his knees in the centre of a devil's trap.

"Cas?" Sam asked, walking toward him. "Are you okay?"

Castiel sat on the floor, looking away from Sam, not willing to meet the hunter's pitting, imploring eyes.

"Can you break the trap?" He asked, voice steady, although his grace inside him was rushing with pain and anguish.

He heard Sam draw a knife and run it through the paint of the trap Castiel was in. He felt it immediately when the trap broke and his powers rushed back toward him.

"They were telling the truth," Castiel informed the hunter. "I had to be certain, but they were telling the truth."

"Cas, it doesn't mean–"

"Sam, can you give me a minute?" the angel asked.

Sam was silent, but he didn't move.

"A minute alone," the angel expounded.

Sam nodded and walked back up the stairs. Castiel stared at the wall in front of him.

When he left, he would miss Sam, he would miss the earth, he would miss Bobby, he would miss them all. He would miss them all because he loved them. He loved them because Dean loved them, and anything precious to Dean was precious to Cas.

Castiel took a deep breath, steadying his resolution, and his grace, before heading back up toward where everyone else was.

No one needed to know his plan, not until he was far, far away, where he could never hurt them.

Castiel emerged from the stairs right as the others put the finishing touches to the exorcism to use on Michael.

"What's our plan?" Castiel asked, approaching his friends and … family… Right, family. Crowley was his mother, Aziraphale was his father. Gabriel was his uncle. Which made Lucifer also his uncle, and Michael his aunt. That meant that Castiel's aunt had possessed the love of his life and tried to kill him.

Castiel shook that thought away. The more he focused on his love for Dean, the harder it would be to leave him once it was necessary.

"Well," Gabriel began, while pulling a bright red lolly from his mouth. "We have 3 teams of two people each. The earth team, the hell team, and the heaven team."

Castiel felt his stomach turn as he realised what Gabriel was implying. The Archangel continued, solidifying Castiel's fears.

"Bobby and Sam can't leave this plain or else they'll be DOA in heaven or hell, so their job is to trap and exorcise Michael out of Deano and make sure that he's okay.

"Zira and I can't go to hell without attracting a lot of attention, plus, if either one of us even touches the lake that burns with fire and sulphur," Gabriel waved his hands and the lollipop in the air at that, "we'll immediately begin to Fall or just plain die. Which, I'm not a big fan of dying, all things considered. So we'll be taking care of the heaven side of things, showing the others Michael's treachery and Falling her."

"We're Falling Michael?" Castiel asked, surprised. He was reasonably sure he had lost that argument.

"You were right," Crowley conceded. "It's the only viable way to get rid of Michael without killing her or locking her in the cage, and the cage would be worse than Falling."

"The cage is plan B, if she still protests even after she's Fallen," Gabriel elaborated

"Which leaves Crowley and I…"

"To go to Hell and take out Lucifer," Gabriel said with a nod, sticking the lollipop back in his mouth.

"Since you're half demon, even though your grace is pure, you should be able to enter hell without detection." Aziraphale explained. "But be careful, Castiel. Even though you're half demon, you're not Fallen. If you touch the lake of fire and sulphur, you will still Fall."

"And we don't want that to happen, kid," Gabriel said with a sad smile. "We've lost enough angels as it is. And you're the best of us."

Castiel didn't agree with that. He wasn't even an angel. Surely he deserved to Fall. To be thrown away like that much trash. He didn't deserve to live.

If he died it would be better, then he wouldn't even have to worry about his resolve breaking once they saved Dean.

"For the plan to work though," Crowley said, "I'm going to have to teach you an old demon trick, for getting between earth and hell quickly."

Castiel turned to his (mother? Father? Mother would be more biologically accurate, but, then again, Crowley was in a gender fluid corporation that was most commonly in use of he/him pronouns, so would that make father more appropriate?) whatever-Crowley-was. "What do I need to do?" He asked.

In for a penny, in for a pound. If he was going to be half demon, some kind of abomination, he might as well act like one.

"Let's go outside," Crowley said, sauntering his way toward the door.

Castiel followed him stiffly.

Crowley spread out his wings.

"Follow me," he instructed, and flapped them through the air.

Castiel followed after.

The (Now Abandoned) Airbase, Lower Tadfiel, England,

1 Day Before the End of the World

Castiel followed Crowley to an old, abandoned airbase, where the demon stood in the centre of the runway. He turned to Cas with a smile, though it seemed a little forced.

"If you're going to help us stop Lucifer, you're going to need to know how to use your powers."

Castiel squinted, somewhat glaring at the demon.

"What powers?"

"You're half demon, there are certain abilities that demons have that angels do not. For instance, invulnerability from hellfire."

Crowley held out a hand and flames appeared inside it. A ball of fire settled there, and he threw it toward Castiel. The half-angel reached out and caught the ball in the air. The hellfire hovered over his hand.

"And, this old trick," Crowley continued.

He removed his glasses, revealing his snake-like eyes. As he studied Cas, the pupils slitted to lines and his irises glowed gold. The ground around him began to bubble and the smell of sulphur filled the air around him.

A burned hole appeared around the demon, not much different from what Sam had done when exorcising a demon with his mind. The bubbling muck opened up, and Crowley stepped back, revealing a hole in the earth heading right for Hell itself.

"I'm going to show you how to do that," the demon said, putting his glasses back on with a smile.

Castiel extinguished the ball of hellfire and readied himself for Crowley's lessons, he would learn because he had to learn to be able to defeat Lucifer. After that, the extra knowledge would be of no import as Castiel would be gone, lost in the stars.

Or dead.

Preferably dead.

Chapter 36: Chapter 26

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Lawrence Kansas, 12 Hours Before the End of the World

Lucifer looked up at the white house with its picket fence and picturesque lawn. If he hadn't known for certain that he would find what he was looking for here, he would have laughed at the idea that this could be a hunter's home.

He made his way up the path toward the door.

Sam Winchester was clearly not going to say yes, and everything was in place for his final fight: Michael was in Dean, Death and the other horsemen had been released, and demons had flooded the world. Everything was ready for the end. Except Lucifer.

That could be rectified though. Sure, Sam was his true vessel, the one that would hold him the best, but he wasn't the only vessel. There were other Campbells out there that could hold his power.

Lucifer knocked on the door of the house and it was answered by a young woman, who looked at him in confusion.

"Who are you?' She asked.

"I'm looking for Christian Campbell," Lucifer said with a winning smile. "I'm a close friend of the family."

The woman ducked back into the door and called out for Christian. The hunter made his way over and opened the door for Lucifer. He studied him, then carefully stepped aside to clear the entryway.

"Come on it," he said, "then we can talk."

Lucifer couldn't believe his luck. "You let me in?" the devil asked, careful to put meaning behind the question.

Christian seemed confused, but then just replied, "yes."

Lucifer smiled.

There was a blinding light as Lucifer exited his current vessel, Nick, and flowed into the Campbell. Satan could immediately feel how much better Christian suited him, how much stronger he was.

"Now, it's time to end the world," Lucifer said with glee, then vanished.

Nick pulled himself from the ground to his feet and looked around in confusion. His memory was blurry. The last thing he could recall was hallucinating the devil because he'd drunk too much alcohol before bed, again .

He made his way off the mysterious porch and down the empty street.

Heaven, 10 hours Before the End of The World [1]

Sammael sat at his office, watching where a camera feed was showing him images of the prophet alone in his house, typing on his old computer. There was something off about the prophet that he couldn't determine. His mannerisms had changed. He was different than he had been before Gabriel had shown up as a player on the scene and brought in the two traitors. He seemed upset about something.

He was muttering to himself as he typed away on his computer.

"Meddling Archangels," he cursed. "Why couldn't they just stay away and not interfere. The story was perfect! The ending was perfect! One brother sacrifices himself for the world, each gets to live the life the other wanted! That was poeticsims at its finest! But, no, couldn't leave well enough alone, could you Amara!?"

Sammael was distracted from his observation of the prophet by the arrival of two angels. One was Sandolphin, the other Zacariah.

Sammael smiled. They had gotten his message.

"What is it you want, Sammael?" Sandolphin began, "the end is nigh, and we don't have time for bureaucratic nonsense."

Zachariah levelled Sammael with a glare.

Okay, so, compared to the other Archangels Sammael had little to no power. He had been raised to his position to replace Raphael after the Archangel's unfortunate death (and wasn't it scary that it seemed that the angel was alive? That had to have been a trick right? Michael had said it was). He had the Archangelic rank in name, but in power he was nothing higher than a glorified Seraph.

"We need a back up plan," Sammael began. "Michael is too cocky. She has no contingency plan if this apocalypse were to fail just like the last one. We cannot afford to allow the earth to continue past today."

This sparked the other two angels' attention. They listen in to Sammael's plan.

"If the traitors succeed, that will be a problem. That's why I'm giving you this." Sammael pulled two guns out of his top drawer and handed one to Zachariah and one to Sandolphin. "I have locked the traitors Aziraphale and Castiel from heaven, and I have been informed that the same is true of Crowley in hell. Kill their corporations and they will be trapped in the veil, unable to do anything to stop us. Then, we will end the world. But only if Miachel's plan fails. If it succeeds, there is a worse punishment waiting for them."

The Archangel smiled evilly. The other angels replied in kind.

In his house, the prophet's eyes lit up with an idea.

"Of course, take it from the masters!" he cheered. "Tragic Romance. Romeo and Juliet. One dies, then the other loses the will to live and kills themselves. Except, in this case, they both will believe that the other could never have been theirs, until it's too late! Perfect. This is better than the whole brother-killing-brother, or brother-sacrificing-himself-for-brother! This is the ending I was looking for! Take that, Amara. [2]"

The Prophet eagerly got back to work on his masterpiece. Finally, he had found the perfect ending :

Sioux Falls, South Dekota, 7 Hours Before the End of the World [3]

They packed their bags and loaded up the Impala. Castiel had learned as much as he could from Crowley and they were ready to go.

Bobby had traced the omens and determined that Lucifer was in Lawrence, the same place where Sam and Dean had been born, which could not be a coincidence.

Crowley drove the car, Sam sat in the passenger's seat with the map, Castiel found himself shoved between Aziraphale (his father) and Gabriel (his uncle). No one spoke as they pulled out of Bobby's place. A heaviness had settled over the car as everyone felt the importance of what they were about to do.

Lawrence Kansas, 1 Hours Before the End of the World

Michael walked through the graveyard, observing the headstones standing at her feet. She stopped at one and bent down to look at it. On it was written a name that was familiar to Dean:

Samuel Campbell.

And next to it was his wife:

Deanna Campbell .

"You know," Michael began, speaking to her vessel. "If your mother had never made that deal with Azazel, none of this would have happened. No Apocalypse of 1990. No meddling demon and angel, and no antichrist who wouldn't do his job. No calling back the forces of heaven and hell. No replanning. No trying to get your brother and you to be Lucifer and I's vessel. Because, if your mother had just let your father die, then we would have waited for the next vessel of Lucifer before setting things into motion. Let that sink in Dean…

"This is all your mother's fault."

She turned around and raised his head to look up at the sky. She stretched her wings behind his back, readying them for her fight, for the last fight. As soon as she and Lucifer began their fight the war would be set in motion, and finally heaven and hell would have their battle to end the world and determine who came out victor.

"Well, it's not all your mother's fault. It's also that meddling angel Aziraphale's. See, we didn't know angels could take vessels. We went centuries, millenia, without even wondering if angels could take human bodies the way that demons could. I never would have considered using you as a vessel. Sure, Sam would still have been used by Lucifer, but you would have been safe.

"But then, Aziraphale figured something out. When he was discorporated, he questioned whether or not he could possess a human. He tried it, and guess what? He could.

"Of course he would be the angel to do it though. He poisoned himself with one of the damned. Do you know that he both sullied his corporation and his grace with that demon? Angels should not be having any kind of carnal relations, but Aziraphale did the unthinkable, and had carnal relations with a demon. He even married and mated the twisted being. He treated him like he was just another angel."

There was grace burning in Michael's eyes as she spoke, disgust came from her voice in waves.

"Crowley deserved what he got. And, I'm going to kill Aziraphale myself. After I destroy Lucifer, of course."

She spread her wings and allowed her Archangel blade to drop into her hand.

"As for your precious little angel. He had one job: go to hell and retrieve my vessel. It should have been a simple order to follow, but he messed it up. He managed to get the vessel to fall in love with him ," she hissed. "Then he rebelled against heaven and tried to stop our plans. He had to die, Dean. You have to understand that."

There was no reply from the consciousness inside the angel; from the beautiful, bright, soul that belonged to the righteous man, for he was still drowning in salt water in the back of his own mind. He was struggling through the water, trying to reach the air, trying to breathe, even as the water flooded into his lungs and pulled him downwards.

"This is what had to happen, Dean," Michael continued to monolog. "Even if your mother hadn't made that deal, even if Aziraphale hadn't discovered the usefulness of vessels, the end would still have come, just give or take a few hundred years. This is inevitable."

Notes:

11

It is at this time that I must leave you with two reminders:

1) although you might notice that Raphael (SPN) has been tagged that is because the Archangel Sammael (who has been referenced a couple times by this point) is essentially that Raphael, just with a different name bc I thought having two Raphaels and two Gabriels was just two confusing (pun and spelling error intended)

2) Notice the tags! Be aware of the tags! Notice the "Chuck is not God" tag and keep that in mind ;) [return to text]

22 remind you of any other endings... you know, other than Romeo and Juliet... another tragic love story...

[return to text]

33 SF to Lawrence: 5hrs and 49 minutes [return to text]

Also, there is an MCU reverence... just because...

(Well, it might have something to do with recently watching Multiverse of Madness)

Chapter 37: Chapter 27

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Lawrence Kansas, 30 mins Before the End of the World

"MICHAEL!" a voice called through the graveyard. A voice Miachel recognised, but it was not Lucifer.

"Gabriel," she hissed, turning around.

Standing in front of him was indeed his brother, who he had killed a few days earlier.

"How are you alive?" She asked, stepping toward where he was standing. Gabriel shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Michael balled his fists and glared at the youngest of the original four Archangels. She had felt him die, then she'd felt him when Crowley was dying. Right before the demon, who had once been their brother, had exploded in an implosion of Grace, she had felt Gabriel's presence, Gabriel's power, but she hadn't believed her senses.

"How are you alive? Tell me, now!"

He took one more step toward her brother, who did nothing but smile smugly.

"Ha!" Shouted the voice of Sam Winchester.

Fire flared around Michael. Holy fire. They had caught him in a circle of burning holy oil. She glared intensely at her brother.

"What are you doing, Gabriel?"

"Look, Mike, I know that mom did some messed up stuff, Falling Crowley for one, but I can genuinely say that this isn't what she would want."

"How could you know? No one has seen or heard from her since the creation of the garden!"

"Actually," Aziraphale said, stepping from the shadows, his flaming sword alight and in his hands. "She spoke to me, after Adam and Eve had been sent away."

Michael turned his head toward the angel, shock written on his face.

"Why?"

Aziraphael looked sheepish. "She wanted to know what I had done with my flaming sword."

Fury burned in Michael's eyes.

"She spoke to you , you ? Not me? Not the Archangel that stood with Her and supported Her and followed all Her orders? Why?"

Aziraphale shrugged sheepishly.

There was the rush of wings and Lucifer appeared, wearing a different vessel. This one had short, dark hair, as opposed to his previous vessel's blond. He also had dark eyes, opposed to Nick's blue. There was a cruel smile on his face.

"See, Micky, She never cared about you! You were nothing to her!"

The devil began to crack up laughing. Michael lunged forward, trying to throw his body out of the angel trap she was caged in.

"She never cared for you! You're the one She threw out! She cast you away, permanently, even though you had done nothing to deserve it, nothing that wasn't brought on by the Mark that She gave you, all to imprison her brother!"

"I was her favourite! I was the best of her creation!"

"No, Lucifer, you weren't," came a deep, gravely voice.

Michael's face dropped open in shock.

The devil turned around to find Castiel standing behind him.

"Oh, really? Then what could possibly have been her favourite creation? You? Gabe? What is it Cassie?" the devil spat.

"Humanity. Her greatest creation was humanity, that's why she gave them choice, that's why she allowed them to take the apple. She wanted them to see that actions have consequences so that they could grow to become something better than they could originally have been. So that they could become better than any of Her other creations, because unlike the rest, they were not just Her's , they were also each other's and their own."

Michael began laughing. "You really believe that, Castiel? That humans are all that? That she cares so much about her little mud mokey's? She let him ," at this she pointed his finger at Crowley. "Tempt them out of the garden."

"So that they could have free will, so that they could grow and learn. They needed to be able to die, so that they could understand how much life was worth."

"You always had a crack in your chassis, Castiel. You always were an abomination. Something messed up when you were created. I don't believe that she intended for you to exist."

"She might not have," the angel said quietly. He looked into Michael's eyes. His eyes began to burn red. "But I also don't believe that She intended her greatest creation to be destroyed by the likes of you."

Lucifer was glaring at the angel as he spoke, as was Michael, they weren't paying attention to the others. Aziraphale and Gabriel opened their wings, preparing to fly away as soon as their plan began.

Castiel turned from Michael to Lucifer.

"Hey, assbutt!" He shouted, throwing a burning molotov cocktail at the devil.

All hell (… heaven… earth… whatever) broke loose.

Gabriel and Aziraphael disappeared. Lucifer fought against the flames surrounding him as Crowley and Castiel leapt forward and grabbed his wings. The earth around them began to bubble. Before Lucifer could realise what was happening, it was too late. The three of them sunk into the earth.

Hell, (Outside of the Normal Path of Time)

The demon and half-demon dragged the devil through the earth and toward his domain. At first Lucifer believed that they intended to bring him to the cage, but then he realised that that was not the direction they were heading in.

They slammed into the bottommost layer of hell. The same layer that the demons had once, so long ago fallen into and never risen from. Most of it was made of the lake, the lake where they had all Fallen and had to struggle to pull themselves out of. It was the lake that Gabriel and Aziraphale had warned Castiel about. The lake that burned with fire and Sulphur.

Crowley, Lucifer, and Castiel had landed on its shore.

At some time during the descent, Crowley and Castiel had lost their corporations, and Lucifer his vessel. Now they stood in their true forms.

Castiel's was by far the brightest, equivalent to what Lucifer's had been before his fall. He had a body with the paws of a large cat, in a stunning black, his eyes, which were open all over, were seraph blue, prince of hell red, and Archangel gold. He had a long, barb-tipped tail, and a snake's body.

Like a Seraph he had three heads, except they were not the normal three heads that belonged to Seraphs. One was a golden, glowing, snake with red eyes. One was a white lion with a flaming mane and golden eyes. The final was a silvery Impala with blue glowing eyes (the gazelle-like animal, not the beloved car). Around each of the heads were two glowing halos, just like every Archangel's. Oddly, of the six halos, only three were fully intact, each of those were golden, and bright. The other three halos were broken so that they resembled horns, and were bright red.

His wings stretched behind him. The centermost ones were a dark blue, almost black. They released a blue halo of light from between the feathers. The other two sets were a pale blue, and the light coming from him was in every colour and no colour at the same time, giving the impression of a rainbow.

Lucifer too had three heads. One was the head of a dragon. One a great beast. The final one was a lion. He had dragon talons, and a lion's body. His eyes were all blood red. His wings, pink and tarnished, released shadows instead of light. He too had six halos, but all of his had been cracked, like the three of Castiel's, and were a dark, black colour.

Crowley's true form was simpler than the others'. It was a long black snake with glowing golden eyes. Three sets of wings unfurled behind him. The centermost were black as the empty, the other two were the same dark blue as Castiel's middle set. They all released a hint of golden light. There were six halos behind his head, stacked up on top of each other. They were almost all just like Castiel's broken one's, except for the one behind his head, that one was intact, and released a faint whitish-blue light. There was also a sense of Aziraphale coming from that halo. It seemed that when they had exchanged grace's during mating, Aziraphale's Grace had actually repaired some of the damage done to Crowley in the Fall.

"Cassie… what happened to you?" Lucifer asked, something akin to shock in his voice.

Castiel collapsed his true form down to appear before them in a similar state to his corporation. Crowley did the same.

Lucifer took the form of a man with sharp cheekbones, blue eyes, and dark hair. He was about the size of Castiel's own corporation, though he was not as filled out and looked lankier. He wore a long dark coat and a deerstalker hat.

He clasped his hands together. "So, what is it you're after?" he asked in a British accent. He unclasped his hands and gestured to the place where they were. "Do you really think you can imprison me in my own domain?"

"We don't intend to imprison you," Castiel replied. He concentrated his Grace, and a knife slid out from his sleeve, but this time it wasn't his usual three-sided angel blade, but the golden Archangel blade.

Lucifer lifted a dark eyebrow. "Oh? Really, Cassieo?"

Notes:

If anyone catches the Good Omens TV Lucifer reference in there, I'll be very happy.

Chapter 38: Chapter 28

Notes:

It has been five years since I took Latin, so, if anyone catches any mistakes in my Latin grammar, please tell me!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Lawrence Kansas, 2010 AD

"What did you do?" Michael asked.

"We brought the devil to hell, where Crowley and Castiel can destroy him without destroying the world. Your apocalypse is over, Micahel [1]." Sam informed the Archangel.

She crossed his arms across his chest and glared the hunter down, green eyes cold. Then, she smirked.

"You haven't won," she said, walking toward the edge of the circle, casually putting his hands into his pockets and shrugging. "Because you can't defeat me . You can't keep me in this circle forever, I'm an Archangel. Actually, no, not an Archangel, the Archangel. I'm the only Archangel who has stayed loyal to Her plan. I'm her chosen one, and as soon as I'm free," she leaned as close to Sam as she could without touching the fire. "I'll destroy you." She spat.

"We could always kill you," Sam bluffed.

"With what?"

"An Archangel blade," Bobby said. "In case you haven't noticed, we happen to have a couple Archangels on our side."

Michael laughed, throwing his head back.

"Yes, but they're all gone," she gestured behind them. They looked back, sure enough, Gabriel and Aziraphale weren't there. Sam let out a relieved sigh.

"Plus," the conceited Archangel continued with a gleaming smile. "You wouldn't be able to kill me without also killing your poor little brother," she changed the inflection of her voice so that it matched Dean's. "Right, Sammy? Sammy, you're my brother, and I love you. Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, just let me die, then you can save the world. One life is not worth the destruction of the entire world."

She cracked up laughing.

"Shut up!" Sam screamed. "Stop using his voice, and stop calling me that!"

Michael smirked. "Bitch."

"No," Sam hissed.

She laughed again.

"I can tell this is getting to you, Sammy , you care so much about him, don't you?"

"That's enough, ya idjit, I think we should just–"

"Yeah, got you, Bobby," Sam pulled an old leather journal from his bag, his dad's journal, and opened it to the back page.

Michael narrowed his eyes. Clearly confused. "What are you doing?"

Sam cleared his throat and began:

" Exorcizamus te, omnis purus spiritus. Omnis caelestis potestas , omnis incursio sanctis adversarii ."

At first Maichel laughed. "You think an exorcism will work on me? I'm an angel, I'm an Archangel. That is meant to be used on–" she choked as his eyes lit up with grace. "No."

Sam continued, " Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta angelica . Ergo magnus imperator , et omnis sanctus exercitus, adjuramus te ."

A bright golden light surrounded Dean's shoulders as Michael was pushed from the body. She struggled.

"No, no, no, you cannot win!"

Sam ignored her, and continued to chant. "Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, Michael, inventor et magister, omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis."

"Fine!" She screamed as the light began to leak from Dean's mouth. His eyes glowed brighter and brighter. "You can have Dean… but you'll never have him alive."

Sam tried to push her worrying words away as he continued. "Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato, nobis sancto et terribili nomine , quem caeli tremunt . Ab insidiis imperator, libera nos, Domine ."

Michael, barely holding on to her vessel, reached his hand around and pulled out the Colt. She clicked the safety off and lifted it in his hand, pointing it at his head.

"Dean is only protected from this gun for as long as I am fully in him. Once I start leaking out, once he becomes more Dean and less Michael, this can kill him. A soul killed by the Colt is gone, there is no coming back from that. So… will you trade your brother's life for the world, Sammy ?"

Sam, holding back tears, continued. " Ut terra tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire , te rogamus, audi nos , Ut inimicos sanctae terrae humiliare digneris , te rogamus, audi nos . Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo. Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem et fortitudinem plebi Suae. Benedictus deus. Gloria patri. "

As soon as the last word left Sam's mouth, Michael pulled the trigger. The sound of the colt going off echoed into the silence.

There was a bright light, and an explosion. Sam and Bobby were knocked off their feet as the glowing Archangel was expelled into heaven.

Sam sat up, ringing filling his ears. He looked over at Bobby, who was grabbing his head in pain. The younger Wincehster pulled himself to his feet and walked over to the circle of flames.

"Dean?" He called. "DEan! DEAN!"

There was no reply..

Heaven, 2010 AD

As soon as Gabriel and Aziraphale appeared in the front hall of heaven, angels poured in. There was Sammael, flanked by Zariah and Sandolphin. There was an angel in a blond vessel and a v-neck top. There were a few angels that Aziraphale recognised from his time in heaven. There was Ishim and his followers.

Azirpahale held his sword at the ready, Gabriel held the Archangel blade.

"It's the traitors," Sammamel said, stepping forward.

Gabriel stepped toward the glorified Seraph.

"You're the angel that killed Castiel," Gabriel said. "How well did that work?"

"And you're the angel who calls himself Gabriel." Sammael snapped back.

"Oh, I am Gabriel," Gabriel replied.

He unfurled his wings, revealing their full golden glory. Six wings stretched out around him, power surging off of them. Above his head a halo began to glow, then another, then another, until six of them were alight around his head.

Many of the angels stared in open-mouthed shock. Gabriel then snapped his wings back in, levelling Sammael with a glare. He then turned to the gathered angels.

"Michael had been lying to you," He declared loudly. "Michael has been slowly turning you to her side, until you do not question anything she tells you. The Archangel who has been calling himself Gabriel was an imposter created by Miachel to hide from you that I had run away once heaven was corrupted."

"He lies! Why would Michael lie to us!?" Sammael shouted.

"Michael wants control!" Gabriel shouted. "When God left, she took control."

"She's heaven's general!" Ishim called. "It's her job to lead us!"

"She tried to get you to end the world!" Aziraphale shouted.

"That was God's will," another angel, Gabriel thought her name was Hannah, shouted. "The world would last 6000 years, and then it will end!"

"There was no allotted time!" Gabriel stepped toward the angels in the crowd. "She never told us when the world would end, or even how . She told us that when it was time for things to come to pass, they would. That humanity would pave their own course, and it was our job to guide them."

"That's not what Michael said," a young angel called, he stepped forward. He was wearing a red fast food uniform with a name tag on it that said Alfie . "She told us that we had to end the world now , then She would come back and help us." His eyes filled with tears. He was young, as far as angels went.

"No. Michael didn't do this to get God back, she did this to be able to have full control of heaven." He reached into the air and pulled out a piece of paper. He held it over his head so that all the angels could see. "She's been consorting with demons, selling out heaven's secrets."

He pulled the letter down and began to read it. It was the same one he had found in Michael's office.

"Michael," he read. "We seem to be in a situation where we can be mutually benefitting to each other. We each have a traitor that we find the need to dispose of. I say we trade what we need to perform the task. I will send a disposable demon up with a supply of Hellfire to kill Aziraphale if you send an angel down to us with your most powerful holy water to dispose of the traitor Crowley. Reply back to this letter as soon as you get it, and dispose of it, we cannot have it falling into the wrong hands." He lowered the letter to see the shocked and angry faces of the angels around him. "It's from Beelzebub."

He handed the letter to the young angel, who, after reading it, passed it to the angel next to him. Slowly, the letter was passed from hand to hand.

"Look!" Gabriel shouted. "I was with you at first too. I just wanted this to all be over. I just wanted Micahel and Lucifer to finally battle, and for Mother to come back, but that's not what is going to happen. This was all about power, this had nothing to do with Her will. This was all Michael's plan."

The angels looked around each other. Gabriel and Aziraphale met other angel's eyes as they all began to realise the truth is what Gabriel was saying.

"What can we do?" The young angel asked.

Aziraphale stepped forward. "When Michael next comes to heaven, we're going to Fall her."

The angels agreed.

Sammael, Zachariah, and Sandolphin had exited the room as soon as the audience had been swayed toward Gabriel's side.

"Do what I said," Sammael said to them. "That's the only way we can still win this."

They nodded.

Notes:

11 "Mine's not," said Misha Collins, randomly popping in and out of the air and flipping off the archangel. "And it never will be!"

"Long Live the Overlord, ever wise a astute!" Screamed an randomly appearing group of fangirls.

They all vanished. [return to text]

Chapter 39: Chapter 29

Notes:

CW: Cas contemplates killing himself in this chapter

Chapter Text

Hell, (Outside the Path of Time)

"We don't intend to imprison you," Castiel replied. He concentrated his Grace, and a knife slid out from his sleeve, but this time it wasn't his usual three-sided angel blade, but the golden Archangel blade.

Lucifer lifted a dark eyebrow. "Oh? Really Cassie?"

"Yes, Lucifer," Castiel replied. "We plan to kill you."

"I'm flattered, really, that you'd spend so much time plotting my death, but you really don't stand a chance against me, not with Crowley helping you."

The devil turned toward the demon, his eyes began to glow pale red. He steepled his hands together under his chin and studied his brother.

"Crawly, be a dear and kill Castiel for me."

Crowley's eyes turned from gold to red, echoing Lucifers, he turned toward Castiel, clearly in a trance. An Archangel blade fell from his sleeve, into his hand.

The devil turned toward him as well. "See, all demons are mine to command, they followed me . Angels don't have free will, Cassie, they can always be controlled by someone , Fallen or not."

Castiel turned toward Crowley, he could see the pale ring on his finger losing its glow, losing the power that marked that Lucifer was the one to die. If Castiel went up against Lucifer now he had as much chance of winning as he would have had if he'd fought him fresh out of the cage. They needed the power of the ring to tip the scales in their favour. Without the power of Death's ring, Lucifer would win.

Castiel looked into Crowlwy's glowing eyes. The golden depths were overlaid with a trace-like disorientation, the whole of their pupil and iris red, as though covered in a thin layer of paint.

"Crowley," Castiel urged. "Don't listen to Lucifer, please." The last word came out weakly as Crowley leapt forward, the knife arching downwards toward his son's heart. Luckily, Crowley had never been a fighter, Castiel had. Castiel had been trained as a soldier of heaven. He caught Crowley's arm in midair.

Castiel twisted his arm upwards, pulling so that he was nose-to-nose with the demon in front of him. They locked eyes.

"Don't let Lucifer control you," Castiel said, placing the Archangel blade in his hand under Crowley's chin. "Snap out of it."

Crowley locked eyes with Castiel. Castiel's eyes ignited with grace, this time they gleamed mostly red, with pinpricks of gold around the irises.

"You are no longer a servant of hell," Castiel reminded him, putting weight into his words and combating Lucifer's power of Crowley. "Remember that."

Crowley's eyes widened as they locked with Castiel's.

Castiel spun the knife in his hands so that the blade was no longer pointed at Crowley, before shoving the demon off of himself out of the way. Crowley skidded on the rocks, his hands landing in the lake behind him. He picked up the knife and pulled himself from the ground. Castiel squared up against him. He spun the blade in his hand.

Lucifer took a step back, watching the tableau he had created play out. A smug smile adorned his face. He looked positively gleeful.

Crowley sauntered forward once he was on his feet. Catiel and Crowley began to slowly circle. Castiel took a defensive position, waiting for Crowley to make his move. The demon leapt forward, slicing toward Castiel's head. The angel swung backwards, evading the arcing knife. Crowley took another step back, then thrust the knife towards Castiel's gut.

Castiel caught his hand in the movement and twisted his wrist, throwing him through the air. Again Crowley skidded on the ground, opening cuts in his corporation's hands and arms, which he ignored, his mind set unwaveringly on his goal.

This time, Crowley was more careful. He swung the knife toward Castiel's thoat. When the angel caught his hand– centimetres away from his throat– he twisted it downwards. Crowley dropped the knife and caught it in his other hand.

Castiel looked down at the hand in shock, moving his own free hand– still holding his own blade– to try to intercept him.

Crowley's knife made it to his target. It sunk into Castiel's shoulder and the angel cried out in pain. Crowley shoved him through the air and he slammed into the rocks behind Lucifer. There was golden ichor flowing for the wound as it had gone through the corporation into Castiel's true self.

Once Castiel's movement had stopped he reached up and gripped the shoulder that had been stabbed. He glared at Crowley. The snake-demon twisted his now ichor-covered blade in the air, golden droplets falling from it.

Castiel's gaze zeroed in on Crolwey's ring, which was glowing brightly.

Lucifer jumped up and down in delight. "Finish him off!" he giggled.

"Finish him off," Crowley parotted, speaking right to Castiel, his eyes, bright and snake-like, hard in their resolution.

Castiel grabbed his blade, which had fallen not very far from his hand. He jumped up to his feet. Lucifer didn't notice, he was too busy studying Crowley.

"Yes, that's what I said, finish him off."

Crowley turned toward him with a smile. "I know."

Lucifer's eyes narrowed in confusion.

An Archangel blade slid out of Lucifer's chest from his heart. Lucifer's mouth dropped open.

"I snapped Crowley out of your control," Castiel growled into the devil's ear. "You lost, Lucifer."

He drew the blade out and Lucifer dropped forward to his knees, then collapsed forward onto the ground. His eyes began to glow, as did the wound, the light becoming more and more intense. Then, it exploded.

Bright light shot through the air, throwing Castiel and Crowley backwards, one into the wall of the cavern, and the other– Crolwey thankfully– into the burning lake of sulphur.

When the bright light had cleared, Lucifer was dead. There, lying on the ground, was the burning remains of his body, a gaping chasm above his heart, and his eyes burned black. A pair of wings spread from his back, burned into the ground. They had done it. One out of two gone, now it was up to Gabriel and Aziraphale to stop Michael. They were halfway there.

Castiel pulled himself to his feet, holding tight to his still bleeding shoulder. He walked over toward the body of the Fallen Archangel. So, he hadn't died.

He picked up his knife from where he had dropped it on the ground, turning it in his hands. Well, Crowley did actually know that he hadn't died. How easy would it be for him to plunge the knife into his own heart and make it look like Lucifer had done it before he died? Then Castiel could be done, gone, once more abomination cleared from the face of the earth.

Maybe…

It looked down at the hypnotising blade, considering it. All he had to do was turn the blade on himself, then everything would be done , he'd be free.

"Castiel," a voice echoed behind him, and, just like that, his chance was gone.

He turned around. Crowley emerged from the lake, wringing the liquid out of his red hair. He snapped his fingers and his clothes all dried. Castiel dropped the knife from his hand quickly, hoping that the demon wouldn't see what had been going on.

He knew that he wouldn't understand why Castiel felt this way, none of them would. They couldn't understand how it would be better if Castiel had died.

The demon walked over toward his son.

"Are you okay?" Crowley asked.

"Yes," Castiel replied, quickly.

"Good," he stepped up and placed a hand gently on Castiel's wounded shoulder. His eyes glowed gold as the skin began to close back over the hole, Castiel could feel the same happening on the level of his true form. Once it was healed, Crowley stepped back.

"Easy part's done," he said. "Now we have to make it to a hellgate and back to the surface, and I'm not exactly supposed to be in hell. It was part of the agreement after the whole holy water thing…"

Castiel nodded.

Crowley turned to look toward the body of Lucifer. There was sadness in his eyes. Despite being a demon, Castiel was starting to realise that Crowley didn't enjoy hurting anyone. He did not enjoy killing. Out of everyone in their group, Crowley was the one most saddened by death. Some might have considered it a weakness, but for Crowley, who had spent his whole life shoved around by other demons and still maintained his individuality, it was a strength.

"Goodbye, brother," he whispered, then turned away, moving toward the entryway to the rest of hell.

Chapter 40: Chapter 30

Notes:

Sorry for posting this so late in the day, my beta was in the boonies at a camp and couldn't read it. They did now though, so time to put the chapter up. I asked them to tell we how much they hated me (out of ten) after reading today's updates. They said 2000/10.

Chapter Text

Heaven, 2010 AD

There was a blaze of light behind them, and Gabriel and Aziraphale turned around. Michael, free of her vessel, but back in her corporation, stood behind them.

"Gabriel, Aziraphale," she said, coldly.

"Michael," Gabriel said back, in a similar tone.

"What's going on?" She looked around at the other angels standing around them.

"We know what you did," Ishim said, stepping forward. "We know that you've been making deals with demons."

Michael laughed.

"You think I've been making deals with demons?" She asked. "Did Gabriel and Aziraphale tell you this?"

She scanned over the faces of the angels surrounding them. She levelled a glare at Samandriel, who ducked nervously behind Gabriel, who wrapped a protective arm around him.

"Aziraphale has bound himself to a demon! He betrayed heaven for a demon! And he accuses me of fraternising with the enemy.

"As for Gabriel, he abandoned us all! He left heaven, and made a deal with the pagans. Even now, he is possessing the vessel of a pagan god! They're hypocrites."

Aziraphale took a step forward, flaming sword clenched in his fist.

"You want to destroy the world. You've killed humans, possessed them, and corrupted them, all so that you could have your way, not God's. Do you remember the reason that Lucifer was thrown out of heaven?"

"Because he did not follow our mother's will," Michael replied.

"Because he wouldn't bow before humanity. Because he would not bow to her will. Because he believed that his way was better, his plan. You have Fallen to the same folly, Michael."

"So what? She doesn't care, because if She cared, then She would show up! She's been gone for millenia, if we could see Her, then we could know Her will. I was only trying to bring Her back!"

"You have killed hundreds of people. You have made deals with the Fallen and betrayed heaven and your brother's a sisters. You are not following Her will, at all.

"I tried to tell her of your blasphemy last time, but I was blocked. She has separated Herself from the treason that you are committing, the evils. You have turned against Her path and claim to do Her will."

"What would you know about her will., Aziaphale? You slept with and married a demon. You sired a half-demon child!"

There was an audible gasp from around them.

"How do you know about that?" Aziraphale asked.

Michael laughed. "You think I didn't know where Castiel came from when you first brought him to heaven? You faked files, you gave the angel false memories. You tried so hard to convince us that Castiel was just an ordinary angel, but I could feel it around his aura, like a vice. I knew Raphael had Fallen, I watched him Fall. As soon as I sensed an angel with an aura half-Raphael and half you, Aziraphale, I knew what you'd done. You think that Gabriel is the only one smart enough to sense the fact that Castiel was Raphael's offspring? I allowed him to stay in heaven because I knew that if anything happened to him, you would turn against heaven, but you turned against heaven anyway! Every sin, you've committed it!"

Gabriel began to laugh. Everyone turned toward him. His eyes gleamed.

"You're afraid of him," Gabriel stated, stepping forward. "You're afraid of Aziraphale and Crowley. That's why he lasted so long, isn't it? You knew that Aziraphale gave his sword to the humans. You knew that he and Crowley met. You knew that they have been having rendezvous with one another throughout the centuries. I mean, let's admit, neither of them are very subtle. You knew that they were working together to raise the antichrist, after all, you're in touch with demons, and Aziraphale was reporting to you the whole time, but you were scared .

"You were scared because you also knew that Aziraphale was the last angel to ever speak to God, no matter how much you seemed to deny it before, you knew because there is no way that a power like that could have walked recognisable to the principality, but unrecognisable to an Archangel. You knew that Aziraphale was the last one to speak to her, and that he had the audacity to lie to Her and that she didn't cast him out of heaven immediately.

"You were scared because you knew the Aziraphale entered into union with a demon, and had a child, and still, She did nothing. Still he walked the earth unharmed. He lied to Her, he lied to Heaven, he slept with the damned, and She did nothing. For some reason, he's untouchable!

"It wasn't your idea to kill him in hellfire, it was fake-me's and it. Did. Not. Work. He blew fire right into your face as though it was normal. An angel who was unfallen stood in hellfire, and there was not a scratch on him.

"And then!" he shouted, throwing his arms into the air in triumph. "To add fuel to the fire. God left specifically for you, that when Dean Winchester went to hell you were to send Castiel, angel of Thursday, to retrieve him. God had asked for the half-demon by name. She'd requested that he be the one that retrieved your vessel! And then, calamity of calamities, your vessel fell in love with him .

"Michael, you're afraid of Aziraphale because you know that he is following God's plan, but you are not!"

Gabriel cracked then, bending forward in laughter. Michael froze. She turned her eyes toward where Aziraphale stood, his flaming sword pointed right at her.

"You've hurt my family, you've hurt heaven, and you've hurt the man my son loves." The angel said, stepping toward the Archangel, who, full of fear, stepped backwards until she was standing on the edge of heaven.

"It's time for you to go. It's time for you to Fall."

Michael took another step backwards and found herself tumbling suddenly over the edge. She reached out and grabbed the edge with one hand, staring down at the drop below her. Her wings had already begun to smoulder and burn. She looked up at Aziraphale.

"No! You can't do this! You're a principality! I'm an Archangel!"

"Not anymore," Gabriel said, stepping up next to his brother-in-law.

"Please, Gabriel. I'm your sister! I love you! I cared for you, and raised you! Please Gabriel!!!!"

"What did you do for Raphael when he began to Fall? What did you say??"

"Gabriel, Raphael was Falled by God Herself!"

Gabriel bent down and looked into Miachel's eyes. "I know for a fact that what Raphael was Falled for, was what you made him do. You and Lucifer sent him to ask mother what she was doing. And, you know, it was also my fault, because I called him in to help me, because I couldn't stand the sound of two of the people I love most, tearing at each other's throats.

"I thought that allowing the world to end would finally make me free of that regret, free of seeing what my family had become before my eyes each night. I spent years as a trickster, drowning myself in booze, food, and sex, trying to forget what life in heaven was like, but it wouldn't go away!

"I was willing to sacrifice humanity, just to see the end of the nightmares, but, you know what, this world was the only good thing. It was you I needed to forget. It was you and Lucifer I needed to let go of. I needed to be able to find new people to care about, and a new way to see the world. Azirpahale, Castiel, Dean, Sam, Bobby, humanity, they helped me see that."

Gabriel gripped his sister's shoulders.

"Goodbye, Michael."

He shoved her over the edge and she screamed as she Fell. Her wings were consumed by flames. Gabriel watched her descent, and heard her screams. He remembered once more what it was like to watch Lucifer Fall. Watch his descent into madness, caused by the mark, him going from the morningstar, to the twisted brother whose wings blazed as he tumbled through the sky, followed by those angels who had listened to his silver tongue.

He remembered Raphael's screams, when Gabriel had believed his brother had died, only to realise that those had been the sounds of his Fall, and maybe it had all been part of Her plan. Everything had happened to get them to this moment, but it still left Gabriel feeling hollow and broken.

He felt arms and wings wrap around him and turned in surprise to find the fledgling, Samandriel, was trying to comfort him. Gabriel dropped to his knees and held the young angel close.

"Hail Gabriel, king of heaven!" Balthazar called. The cheer was taken up by the angels around them.

"No, wait a minute!" Gabriel shouted. Never in this plan had they ever imagined that the other angels would want a new ruler of heaven. "I am not going to take over—"

He was grabbed by a couple angels and lifted into the air as they cheered.

" Azirpahale, help," he mouthed to the angel.

The principality only laughed and gave the Archangel– new king of heaven– a little wave.

Chapter 41: Chapter 31

Notes:

what is this? Second chapter? Will I also have elevenzies?

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Hell, (Outside the Path of Time)

Crowley and Castiel made their way silently through hell. The demon was very on edge, worried what would happen if they got caught. They came very close to a run in, but managed to get out pretty quickly.

The first time was in the eight level of hell (you know, the one that my eighth grade class always told me I'm in, lol, so funny guys, ha… ha…) where Crowley managed to step on a loose board over a pit and fall off toward the prison for those who commited sexual immorality (there are very few gays in this pit, and if they are there, it's because they committed rape. The pit is mostly full of rapists, no matter what Dante might try to tell you).

Castiel managed to catch him before he fell. He opened his wings and used them as leverage to pull the demon up.

"Well, thankssss," the demon replied with a smile.

Castiel gave him a weak, half-smile in return.

In the seventh layer they had to hide behind two different boulders, and Castiel got unpleasant flashbacks to his time rescuing Dean from Hell.

After that, things got smoother. Crowley knew the path they needed to take and they quickly managed to fly between layers. That was until they had finally reached the road out of hell (paved, as you know, with frozen door-to-door salesmen).

"My lord," Beelzebub's voice called from behind them.

They froze, looked between each other, then turned around toward the prince of hell.

"Ummmm… I'm sorry?" Crowley asked.

"Lord Satan," Beelzebub said, falling into a bow. "We are honoured to see you here, though we had believed that you were currently fighting with your old arch-nemesis and brother, Michael."

"Uhhhhhh," Crowley said, intelligently. "I'm sorry?"

"Your majesty, we had believed that you were beginning to finally fight for this world."

"Uhhh, ummmm, I- I- IIIIIIIIIII, ngk, akgbwbfndw, I think you have the wrong person?" Crowley finally managed to get out, after much vocal key-smash.

Beelzebub rose from their place on the ground. "You are our lord, Satan, the first of the Fallen, King of Hell. I can see the aura of her majesty, the crown of hell surrounding your head!"

"Uhhhhhhhh."

Castiel squinted at the space above Crowley's head. His head cocked to the side in confusion.

"They're right," the angel informed the demon. "The crown of Hell is hovering over your head."

Crowley's mouth fell open.

"Whaaaaat?"

Castiel's head titled the other direction. "Maybe whoever kills the devil becomes themselves the devil, so by destroying the greatest evil, one must take on the consequences of their actions?"

"Ngk, what? I… I can't be the devil! I don't even like being a demon! I'm not even a good demon… I mean a bad one! Go– Sa– somebo— holy me! I can't rule hell ! I have a cottage in the South Downs where I happily live with my husband! I don't want to be part of all this heaven and hell shite again!!!"

Crowley sputtered more denials, and a few swears, some very creative, before his eyes suddenly lit up.

"But I didn't kill the devil! You did, so you should be the new King of Hell!" he thrusts a hand in the air in triumph.

"But you have the crown."

Castiel squinted once more, staring into the distance as he pondered the dilemma. Finally his eyes widened as he came to a conclusion.

"Death gave you the ring. It was your choice for the devil to be the one of the Archangels who died. So, therefore, it's because of your choice that the devil is dead, so you killed him. Indirectly."

Crowley bagan to curse again. Castiel watched him, a disgruntled expression on his face.

Both angel and demon were reminded of Beelzebub's existence when they spoke again.

"Uh, my lord?"

Crowley turned to look at Beelzebub, his eyes widening as he realised the truth. Say what he might, he was the new king of Hell.

"The war has been called off," Crowley declared. "We are going to come to a peace treaty with heaven, it's time that angels and demons just let the humans be. The only demon activity that will be on earth will be crossroads deals, since that's the humans' own choice."

"My lord???" Beelzebub gasped.

"Demons can now move between the earth and hell to just enjoy the world, and for no other reason!"

"Really? You can't really mean…"

"Yes, Prince Beelzebub, I really mean that. This is the end! No more wars! No more attempted apocalypses!"

"I uh…"

"That's my decree!" Crowley shouted. "If you don't agree, well, deal with it!"

Crowley turned and grabbed Castiel's arm, dragging him from Hell as he sauntered out the door.

London, Earth, 2010 AD

"We did it!" he declared. They were standing in a lobby in a glass building on earth. "We saved the world! Lucifer is dead! The Apocalypse is called off!"

He pulled his son into a tight hug, relishing having him there, solid, home. Castiel awkwardly returned it.

"I'm so glad that you finally know. It hurt me so bad giving you up and fearing that I would never see you again!"

The demon pulled out of the hug.

"But let's get you back to your loverboy, right?"

The demon sauntered out the door and Castiel followed him, his footsteps heavy. He could hear Crowley singing, happy to have won. Happy to no longer have the threat of Hell hanging over him, even if that now meant that he was going to have to find out what to do now that he was hell's ruler.

He was happy, because his family was together. He's found his long lost brother, he'd finally revealed the truth to his son, and he'd saved his son's new family. As far as Crowley was concerned, this was his happy ending.

His words to Cas about finding his loverboy must have triggered a song in his head, because it had that word in it quite a few times:

" Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy

What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?

Write my letter

Feel much better

And use my fancy patter on the telephone

When I'm not with you

Think of you always

(I miss those long hot summer nights) I miss you

When I'm not with you

Think of me always

Love you, love you

Hey, boy, where do you get it from?

Hey, boy, where did you go?

I learned my passion

In the good old-fashioned

School of loverboys"

Castiel could feel a heaviness in his heart, shaking his resolve as he watched the happiness on his father's face. He wanted that to stay, he wanted Crowley to be happy, but he still had to go. He would say one last goodbye, after being certain that Dean was alive, then he would fly off to Alpha Centauri and never come back, at least not until Dean was dead and in heaven.

Maybe he would come back for Crowley's sake. Eventually. But he could not allow himself to harm Dean's happily ever after by remaining a shadow over him forever. Either Dean would go off into the sunset, continuing hunting with his brother, or he would find a woman and settle down, have kids, and, overall, be happy.

But Castiel was selfish, so instead of leaving now, he would offer Dean one last goodbye.

Notes:

the song that appears here is "Good Old Fashioned Loverboy" I didn't have a footnote bc it has appeared in this fic before.

Chapter 42: Chapter 32: Dean Winchester in Dead

Notes:

what is this? Did elevenzies actually happen? What about luncheon and afternoon tea??? will we get those too???

as always on a chapter with Chuck: Reminding ya'll that Chuck is *not* God. Would love to hear your theories on what he really is. :) I've given some hints ;)

Chapter Text

Chuck Shurley (The Prophet's) House, 2010 AD

Chuck stared at the screen to his computer, a look of pure elation on his face. There was something overly satisfying about this new ending. He's tried a lot: Sam killing Dean while possessed by the demon blood, Dean killing Sam with the first blade while possessing the Mark of Cain, Dean dying on a rusty nail, and Sam living his life with his wife and kids (oh, they thought they won in that universe, which was an added bonus), but this one, this one was his best.

The problem was, he had been focusing too closely on the brothers . That's not what people wanted. People wanted romance, they wanted tragedy. After all, almost every great tragedy had romance. There was something overall sad about watching people strive for love and fail. Shakespeare had made a living off of it. After all, his tragedies were so much more popular than his comedies.

This was, at last, the perfect ending to the world.

Finally, he'd created it, his masterpiece.

"Well, Amara. What do you think? Your creation is so convinced that you have a plan . I had a plan, but you didn't want to follow it. You called me a puppet master and locked me away, well, not anymore. Today, I take it all back. This is the day I win.

"Just watch, sister dear, as tragedy unfolds…"

Lawrence Kansas, 2010 AD

As soon as the last word left Sam's mouth, Michael pulled the trigger. The sound of the colt going off echoed into the silence. As Michael left Dean, she squeezed the trigger with his finger. The bullet sped from the gun. If this were a Tv show, this scene would have been in slow motion. The bullet headed from the gun, the Archangel left the hunter.

The bullet entered the left side of Dean's head, the gunpowder left a burn along his head. The bullet exploded from the other side, leaving half his head blown to bits, spraying blood and brains.

The gun fell from Dean's hand and to the ground. His legs gave out from underneath him, and he fell.

He was dead long before he hit the ground.

He lay, in the centre of the ring of holy fire, the gun laying beside his cold, dead fingers.

No soul left his body and moved on to an afterlife. There was no beyond for Dean Winchester. His soul was shattered, dissipated, gone.

The Colt had done its work, and it had done it well.

Dean Winchester was dead, and above, She cried out.

But even God could not reverse what Chuck had written. There had only been one who could reverse that kind of work, and he was long gone, cast from heaven for hubris that was not his own.

The healer, Raphael, was gone.

And Dean Winchester was dead.

Chuck Shurley (The Prophet's) House, 2010 AD

Chuck cackled as he read his own writing. He could hear his sister's anger. He could feel the world cry out, and he laughed.

(He could also hear the fangirls cry out in shock and pain).

Where, once, a voice had called in jubilation "Dean Winchester is saved" now one would call out in sorrow, "Dean Winchester is Dead."

Chuck cackled as he stared at his computer.

He poured himself a glass of hard liquor and raised it to the computer.

"To me!" he declared, taking a drink. "I'm a genius!"

He drained the glass and went back eagerly to writing, his hands flying over the keyboard. Romeo and Juliet. Forbidden, lost love.

Oh, yes, he was only getting started.

Chapter 43: Chapter 33: Romeo and Juliet

Notes:

more chapters precious?????

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Lawrence Kansas, 2010 AD

There was a bright light, and an explosion. Sam and Bobby were knocked off their feet as the glowing Archangel was expelled into heaven.

Sam sat up, ringing filling his ears. He looked over at Bobby, who was grabbing his head in pain. The younger Winchester pulled himself to his feet and walked over to the circle of flames.

"Dean?" He called. "DE-an! DEAN!"

There was no reply..

Sam ran through the flames and saw his brother's form. Dead. Dean was dead. The Colt lay beside his fingers, his eyes were wide open, unseeing. There was a pool of blood around his head and sprinkles of blood on his shoulder.

Sam had watched his brother die a hundred and ten times. He had thought that he had seen every possible option for his brother's death. Piano, hatchet, electrocution, bunny suit, car, tacos, shower, etc. Gabriel had included it all. Everything except suicide.

He knew that his brother hadn't actually killed himself, but that's what it looked like. It looked like Dean Winchester had shot himself in the head.

How many times growing up had Sam considered that same option to get away from their father? How many times had he lifted one of his father's guns to his head, but realised that if he did Dean would follow. How many times had he worried about finding this very same image as a child, either his father, or Dean, giving up on finding the yellow-eyed demon.

Now, even though he knew that it wasn't Dean's choice, Sam was looking at his worst fear.

"Sam?" Bobby's voice came from behind him.

Sam was frozen, staring at his brother's dead body. Bobby stepped up beside him and looked down at Dean's body at his feet. There were tears streaming down Sam's face.

"We couldn't save him," the younger Winchester said, his voice breaking.

There was the sound of a car driving in with its radio blasting:

I'm just a poor boy nobody loves me

He's just a poor boy from a poor family,

Spare him his life from this monstrosity

Easy come, easy go, will you let me go

Bismillah! No, we will not let you go

(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go

(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go

(Let me go) Will not let you go

(Let me go)(Never) Never let you go

(Let me go) (Never) let you go (Let me go) Ah

No, no, no, no, no, no, no

Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia, let me go

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me,

For meee

The car stopped and the radio cut out. The sound of two doors opening and closing echoed through the air, but Sam could not pull his eyes away from the horror at his feet.

"We did it!" Crowley called, clearly excited. "The world is saved!"

"Sam," Cas said, his deep voice rumbling softly. "What's wrong?"

He stepped up behind Sam and he felt the angel's hand on his shoulder. At first the hand seemed to be an attempt at comfort, but then, Sam felt the moment that Cas saw Dean. The grip on Sam's shoulder tightened, before the angel fell to his knees beside the hunter.

"Dean?" he whispered. He lifted the human's head off the ground and onto his knees. He cradled his face in one hand, holding his body in the other. "No… Dean… no, no, please no."

The angel began to sway back and forth, cradling the hunter's head in his arms, crying.

He looked up at the three beings watching him.

"Crowley," he begged. "You can heal him, right? You used to be Raphael, you're the healer!"

Crowley shook his head. "I wish, Cas, but… I don't have that power anymore."

Castiel cradled the hunter in his arms in the same way he had once cradled his soul as he brought him out of hell.

"Where's his soul?" Castiel asked. "I could do what Zachariah did, I'm an Archangel, after all. I'll just pull his soul from his afterlife and return it to his body!"

"When the Colt kills something, it destroys the soul, that was the only way to create a tool that could kill a demon and an angel. We've tried other things, Cas, I promise, but… Dean's gone, he can't be brought back."

The angel screamed in enochian, his true voice echoing in the air, knocking Bobby and Sam to their knees, hands on their bleeding ears.

"Ɔ ɯǝᙠɐƆʞʇꟽƎ," He screamed.

A current of energy rushed out from the angel as he spoke. Castiel cradled his hunter to his chest as he cried, tears running down his face, his eyes glowing gold and red.

"It wasn't supposed to end like this," he whispered to Dean. "You were supposed to live, you were supposed to be happy! You were supposed to be free, to be able to live your life as you wanted to."

"Quite a display, Castiel," Came a voice.

The angel looked up from where he was still cradling the hunter against his chest. He slowly lowered Dean's body down and stood up. The hunter's blood had created stains on his knees and trench coat, as well as covering his hands and his shirt.

"Zachariah," he hissed.

The archangel smirked. "Who would have thought that all we had to do to break Castiel was kill little old Dean Winchester. You know, Michael wasn't lying. Dean only said yes when we threatened you . He was in love with you! You could have been together. You could have been happy ."

Zechariah drew a gun out from his jacket. There was nothing special about it, nothing that left a magic residue in the air like the Colt. It was just an ordinary gun, you couldn't kill an angel with it.

But you could kill a body.

Zechariah pointed it at Castiel's chest and fired.

Bang, bang, bang. Three shots. Blood gushed from Castiel's corporation's chest. He held a hand to it.

"How does that give you anything?"

"You didn't have your full powers before, Castiel, you believe you were an angel, and that is what makes the difference."

Castiel collapsed as his true form rushed from the dead corporation.

Everyone was so captivated by the scene, by Castiel's unexpected demise, that they did not see someone stirring.

Dean Winchester grabbed the gun that was laying on the ground. He lifted it and pointed it at Zachariah's head.

"That's enough," Dean hissed.

Everyone turned toward Dean. Crowely's eyes widened, then his mouth split in a grin as he realised exactly what had happened. Death had reminded Crowley that Raphael had the power to bring anything back. The power to mend any wound. That reminder hadn't been meant for Crowley. It had been meant for the new Raphael. Every angel had acknowledged that they would feel Raphael's power around Castiel, but no of them had considered the truth– Castiel was Raphael. The new one, anyway.

And, he had called to a broken soul, and it had listened, it had renewed itself, repaired.

Dean pulled the trigger, and the bullet crashed through Zachariah's soul, sending him reeling. His grace exploded around him and he was left, nothing but an empty corpse, his wings burned into the ground.

Dean climbed to his feet and made his way toward the empty corporation that had been Castiel until a few minutes before. Dean fell to his knees next to him, (unknowingly repeating what Castiel had done) reaching out to close his eyes.

Crowley came and sat next to the hunter.

"He's gone, right?" Dean asked. "I thought… I had hoped now that it was all over…" it was the most emotionally vulnerable thing that Dean Winchester had ever said.

Crowley watched the hunter, tears were streaming down his face.

Dean placed a hand over Castiel's heart, and felt something in his pocket.

"What the…?"

He opened the coat and reached in, pulling a piece of paper out. It was covered in Castiel's blood, but still legible. His name– in Cas' handwriting– was scrawled on the top.

"What could…"

He opened the letter and began to read. At first he froze, then he began to sink down, tears rolling down his face as he read. A couple times he muttered to himself. When he was finished he started down at the letter, tears dripping off his face.

"Where would Cas go?" Dean asked the demon, still sitting next to him. "After he was discorporated? Heaven? Hell?"

Crowley considered his words. "It used to be heaven, but Zechariah implied that now that Castiel had accepted himself it would be different. I can't feel him in hell… so he must…"

"Where is he?" Dean demanded.

The demon let out a sigh. "My best guess?"

Dean watched him, unwavering.

"Purgatory."

Notes:

if you don't know what song was playing when Crolwey drove in, we can't be friends!

(and if you say it's not a good song, looking at you, [you know who you are, you will face the wrath of me, Crowley, the Bently, and the Queen bandom... you have been warned)

Chapter 44: Cas' Letter

Notes:

spice up your life

(spoilers for spn 15.18, if you haven't seen it, you might what to skip this chapter.

If you're been on tumblr, twitter, or pintrest at all since 2020, it's probably already been spoiled)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Dean ,

I always wondered, I wondered what it could be, what... what my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want... it's something I know I can't have. It's something I once believed I had, but I have given that up now, because it can never happen.

But I think I know... I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it.

I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken. You're... you're 'Daddy's Blunt Instrument.' And you think hate and anger, that's... that's what drives you. That's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it.

Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know. You know, ever since we met and ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean.

I love you.

But I cannot have you. Aziraphale and Crowley are my parents. I am a half-demon, half-angel abomination. I should never have been born, should never have existed. Where you are pure, righteous, I am nothing. I am an evil in this world that needs to be destroyed. Where you are perfect, I am worthless.

I know I will never give you this letter, I know you will never know the truth. In hell, you told me you loved me, but you forgot. I thought I was worthy of you then, but I am not.

Goodbye, Dean.

I will always love you, and that is why I have to go, and never come back.

Find your happiness. Find your true ending.

—Castiel

Notes:

So, out of ten, how much do you hate me after today's installments???

Also, the reason there are so many is because I'm going away to work at a summer camp next week and I don't know how regularly I'll be able to post!

Chapter 45: Chapter 34

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Lawrence Kansas, 2010 AD

There was the sound of wing beats on the air, then behind the group appeared Gabriel, looking flustered with a crown draped around his head at an angle and wearing white angelic robes, beside Aziraphale, who looked much more put together than when he left, though still dressed the same.

The two angels took in the scene, Dean on his knees next to Crowley, Castiel's empty corporation laying on his lap. A shaken Sam stood behind his brother, close enough that he could reach down and touch his brother's shoulder, but far enough away that his brother had space to grieve. Bobby stood some distance behind the brothers. The rough hunter had tear tracks down his face.

Purgatory . The word echoed in Dean's mind. "How would I get to purgatory?" he asked, he was shaking, staring at the empty body in his arms.

"No one knows," Aziraphale's voice echoed behind him, informing him of the angels' return, it was shaking slightly. "No angel has ever been to purgatory. No one except for souls have been since the banishment of the Leviathan."

Dean could feel his hope deflating at the words. No one had been to purgatory for a very long time. Dean could tell from his letter that even if Cas had a way to get out and return to earth he wouldn't do it. He was determined to stay dead, stay away, because he thought that what he had been born as made him evil, corrupted, when what Dean had seen of Cas proved that so, so wrong.

Cas was the best of all creation. He was firm in his faith, but once he realised he was wrong, he had the ability to change. He was gentle and kind, but he was also fierce, strong, and brave.

And Dean loved him.

And, apparently, he had once told Cas that, but Dean had forgotten. Dean had forgotten falling for Cas as he rescued him. Somehow, after Dean had entered that grave he'd forgotten everything that had happened after Castiel showed up to save him.

Dean could feel tears falling out of his eyes as he held Castiel's corporation to his chest.

"I might be able to help," Gabriel said, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder.

The hunter looked up at the Archangel, a plea in his eyes.

"I've never done it before," he looked over at Crowley. "I don't think any of us have… but the Archangels were given the ability to open any doorway, either by our power or our grace. I can open the door into purgatory, or at least I should be able to, and you can go bring Cassie home."

Dean laid Castiel's empty corporation down on the ground carefully. He stood and turned toward Gabriel.

"Then do it," Dean demanded.

"Now?" Gabriel asked in ingdination. "You have to understand purgatory is the place where monsters go when they die, Dean, everything that goes bump in the night, everything you've ever killed, that's where its at. Castiel, he can survive there forever, you, on the other hand, would die very quickly."

"I don't care," Dean shouted. "Cas already feels like he's a monster, for something he couldn't control, what makes you think that I want to leave him in the realm of monsters for a second longer than I have to? I'm going to find him and bring him back and show him that he matters, regardless of what he is, because…" Dean trailed off, tears dripping down his face. He glared at the Archangel in front of him. He turned to his brother, Bobby, and Azirpahale and Crowley. "Because…" he choked on the words, "because I love him, goddamnit."

He glared down the Archangel in front of him. "So, open the portal to purgatory, Gabriel, right, freaking, now."

The Archangel held the hunter's eyes, but then turned and snapped. A golden crack opened in the air above the graveyard. Dean turned as though to go through, stuffing the colt into the back of his jeans where his own gun usually rested, but Aziraphale gripped his shoulder, stopping him.

"What is it?" Dean demanded of the angel.

Aziraphale offered the hilt of his sword to Dean. "This sword can kill anything, even God, if anything can help you survive purgatory it's this."

"Thanks," Dean said, voice heavy.

He tested the weight of the blade in his hand. It felt comfortable, good. He looked back at Sam and Bobby.

"Sam, stay here, if I don't come back…"

"You'll come back," Sam replied. "I know you will."

"If I don't, Sam, get the life you always wanted, get out, marry some girl, be happy."

Sam nodded.

Dean swung the sword in his hand once more, then stepped through the golden portal.

Purgatory, 2010 AD

The crack remained open behind the hunter as he entered. The landscape was dark, it seemed to be evening, as it had been in the graveyard, but everything was dimmer, more subdued. Dean tightened his grip on the sword in his hand and it went up in green flames.

There were glowing red eyes in the trees, and the sound of branches breaking under foot echoed around him. Something emerged from the trees and Dean turned toward it, the sword positioned in front of his face.

The thing had long claws, scaly hide, and poison green eyes. Dean would have called it a dragon, except for the absence of wings on its back. It had long, pointed teeth that were bared as though in expectation of tearing through Dean's flesh. Sam would probably be able to tell Dean what it was. Dean had a feeling it was something nasty from Greek mythology.

Dean considered briefly jumping back through the portal until the monster was gone, after all, Aziraphale had said the sword could kill anything, but could monsters even die in purgatory? What happens if you kill something in the afterlife? Dean wasn't sure. Soon though, his mind was made up for him when the tail of the monster slammed over the area where the crack was and it disappeared.

Dean took a step back as the monster approached him, venom leaked from it's jaws.

The monster opened its jaws and with a speed Dean didn't think possible, snapped them around the hunter's body.

Dean would have died if not for his quick reflexes. He managed to stab the sword up through the roof of the dragon's mouth in a total Chamber of Secrets move, before rolling on the ground away from the beast.

Its head swung back and forth before falling to the ground, blood, brains, and venom soaking into the leaves.

Dean walked back toward it and grabbed the hilt of Aziraphale's sword, backing up away from it.

He took stock of his condition. The sword was now coated in blood, but the flames had returned in full force. The monster's venom had burned a hole in his shirt, but it hadn't made it through all the levels to his chest, so he was in pretty good shape, but that had been close. Dean could have easily died.

If this was what all of purgatory was going to be like, then it was not going to be easy.

There was more sounds in the woods around him, more footsteps. From the trees, another monster, like the first, emerged.

Dean groaned. "Son of a bitch."

Lawrence Kansas, 2010 AD

Sam watched as his brother disappeared through the crack, praying to God, hoping She was listening. Crowley lifted Castiel's corporation off the ground, a sight of strength that Sam wouldn't have believed, since he was pretty much just skin and bone.

Crowley carried the body over toward an open part of the graveyard. Azirpahale snapped his fingers and a grave appeared dug beside Samuel and Deanna's grave. Crowley lowered Castiel's corporation into the grave. When he had climbed back out to join the others at the side of the grave he snapped his fingers and the corporation went up in flames.

Sam and Bobby went back to his house, Gabriel went to heaven, and Crowley and Azirpahale returned to England, telling Sam to call them when Dean and Castiel returned. Crowley gave him his mobile, and Aziraphale gave him the number for his bookshop. Before leaving, the angel grabbed his shoulders and told him to have faith that Castiel and his brother would return.

Dean had told Sam that he should get out, but he didn't want to, at least not yet, so he continued to hunt, marking every day on his calendar that Dean didn't return. The exes went from days, to weeks, and before Sam knew it, Dean had been gone for a whole month. It made him restless. He found himself going on more and more hunts.

Bobby didn't like him going alone, so he set him up with another hunter called Garth, who kept Sam on his toes, and was good for distracting Sam from his worry over Dean.

Every night he prayed to God that his brother and his brother's angel would return.

Meanwhile, Gabriel had gotten heaven back under control, and Crowley had mostly tamed hell, and both brothers were working toward peace between the afterlives.

Everything was falling into place, if Dean came back, he and Castiel could follow whatever path they wanted, be whoever they wanted.

They just had to come back.

Notes:

I'm back, but not for long. Camp is great, but a lot of work and very little writing time, lol. Hopefully there will be another chapter next week!

Chapter 46: Chapter 35

Notes:

Sorry I've been gone for so long! work has been insane. Hopefully now that its finishing I'll be able to get back to my regular posting schedule!

Chapter Text

Purgatory, 2010 AD

Dean stood in the middle of a clearing. It was around midday, but purgatory didn't have much light so the brightness was closer to afternoon light. The sword was wreathed in flames and Dean was carving his way through a pack of vampires with ease. After a month of being in purgatory, every movement Dean made had become just instinct. Four-to-one odds and he was soon standing in the middle of a circle of headless corpses, his sword still brightly flickering emerald.

He moved on from the dead vampire pack and made his way through the trees.

He had been there for a month, one month of searching through purgatory and finding nothing, one month of mindless kill-or-be-killed situations. Dean was becoming tired. Dean was starting to lose hope. It took every piece of him to keep pushing through, keep going. He reminded himself every day why he was doing this, why he had to find Cas, why he couldn't just lay down and die.

He was covered in sweat and blood, his clothes torn and soaked in venom and black goop. He was tired beyond belief, but he had to find Cas.

He leaned against a tree, catching his breath, sword dangling in a loose arm at his side.

What he didn't notice was that there had been five vampires. The one that was left crept out from behind a tree where it had hid, approaching the human with bared fangs. It was quiet, sneaking through the underbrush with the practiced ease of a predator hunting down their prey. It leapt toward Dean's throat…

… and found its head chopped from his shoulders, leaving a trail of blood on the ground as it rolled.

Dean spun around, lifting Aziraphale's sword to point it at the person (creature, probably creature, Dean was the only person in purgatory) that had saved him. Standing there was a heavyset man with a beard, holding a strange axe-like weapon in his hands.

"Who are you?" The hunter demanded, keeping his emotions as in check as he could.

He had learned pretty quickly in purgatory that the fire on the sword was in tune with his emotions. When he was happy, the flames would flicker, when he was angry they would flare up large and bold, when he was depressed, the flames would move close to dying. The emotion that powered the sword the best, Dean found, was love. If he thought about Cas, and how much he loved him, the flames would glow steady, so Dean thought about Cas every second of every day, pushing his love for Cas through every fibre of his being. It was exhausting, but it also was comforting, to know that he had someone he loved who loved him back, and once he found Cas, he could be with him, for as long as the angel would have him.

The man— no, not man, vampire, Dean could see the signs— looked down the blade at him.

"So it is true," he uttered in a thick cajun accent. "I had heard rumours of a human who walks through purgatory bearing a blade of God, looking for a Fallen angel, but I didn't believe them."

No matter how hard Dean tried, he could not help the flare of the blade at the word "Fallen" Cas was not Fallen. Cas was pure. Cas had more faith than any angel in heaven. The vampire had noticed the brief change in the fire, and somehow knew that it meant something. He eyed it intensely.

"What are you after?" Dean growled.

"I know where your angel is," the vampire replied.

Dean's heart stuttered in his chest. This vampire knew where Cas was? Dean could use every lead he could get. He would do anything for…

Why would this vampire help him? What was in it for him?

"Yeah, well, clearly you're not just going to give me this information, so what is it you want?"

The vampire held Dean's piercing gaze steadily. "I want to get a way out of here. The only way a spirit can leave purgatory is if it hitches a ride with a living host."

"You want me to let you possess me? Oh, God, no."

"No, I would not be possessing you, I would enter a part of your body, your arm maybe and would ride with you through the portal, then you would need to find my body and release me back into it."

"And then what? Let you go and murder people? You're a vampire, I'm a hunter, do you really think things could be that easy?"

"I didn't ask to be a vampire. I was forced to become this, and now I'm trapped here because something I could not control makes me evil."

Just like Cas , Dean couldn't help but think. Cas thought he was evil because he was half-demon, even though the things he did proved him to be good. Dean's grip on the sword tightened.

"Prove to me that I should let you walk on the earth, and I'll help you," Dean replied.

The vampire chuckled. "I can do that, chief."

Dean offered his hand to the vampire, nervous about the action. The other hand gripped the sword tight, ready if he needed it.

"Dean Winchester," he offered.

"Benny Laffitte," the vampire replied.

They shook.

Benny had heard word of Castiel being at a stream about four days' journey from where they were, so Dean had them set out as quickly as possible. In the first hour they ran into three werewolves and a vampire pack. Benny proved himself to be an exceptionally good fighter. He and Dean worked well together. Sword and purgatory blade cutting through those in their way with a kind of ease Dean had only ever experienced before with Cas and Sam.

"You're good, I'll give you that," Dean told the vampire, as they stopped to take a break, not long after the werewolves.

"Thank you, chief."

Dean didn't know why, but more often than not Benny called him "cheif" or "brother" instead of his name, he didn't know how he felt about that. It did build a very quick sense of comradery between them that Dean wasn't overly certain about.

They continued their walk through purgatory, fighting side by side. As one hour moved into one day, Dean could feel his uncertainties about Benny fading away. There was no better way to become friends than through battle, that had always proved true for Dean through his years of hunting, and that applied to him and Benny too.

"So, brother, why are you risking all this for that angel?" Benny asked, that night when they stopped for a brief rest.

"You wouldn't understand," Dean snapped at him as he used the flame from his sword to start a fire. He sat down beside it and stared into its flickering depths.

Benny sat beside him with a audible oophmp . "This angel must be really important to you, for you to fight through purgatory for him.

Dean chuckled dryly. "You could say that."

Benny turned his head to study the hunter sitting next to him.

"You know that there's an old story about the sword of God? It was said that it was given to humanity by an angel in the garden, given to them in mercy and love, but humanity twisted it," the vampire picked up a stick, studied it, then tossed it into the fire. "They used it to fight against the creatures that were never meant to be their enemies: vampires, werewolves, shifters and the like. Because of this, those creatures evolved to be able to kill humanity."

Dean groaned. "Are you talking just to talk? Because I think that purgatory is not the best place to be making a lot of noise."

Benny laughed a bit, then shook his head.

"Part of the story is that the angel discovered what had happened– well, actually, that's unclear, in some versions of it it's the angel who gave the sword, in some Raphael, and in some a demon, doesn't matter– when he found out how humanity had twisted his gift, he placed a spell on it so that any human who tried to use the sword for any purpose but a quest of love would be burned to ash."

With the conclusion of the story, the vampire turned to Dean and raised an eyebrow.

Dean only grunted in reply.

"Well, see, that's why I didn't believe those rumours when I heard them, I couldn't see how someone could be on a quest of love in purgatory, but after meeting you, I realised– you're in love with that angel, aren't you?"

Dean looked into the flames, tears forming in his eyes. He nodded.

"Ye-es," he said, his voice breaking. He turned toward the vampire, daring him to do anything or say anything against it. "Yes, I'm in love with Cas."

Chapter 47: Chapter 36

Chapter Text

Purgatory, 2010 AD

Dean worried that his confession would disgust the vampire, but it didn't. Instead he gripped Dean's shoulder in a firm hand, shaking him slightly.

"We'll find him," he promised.

Dean looked up at him, he could see a light of understanding in the vampire's eyes. Benny looked down at the ground in front of him. He let go of Dean's shoulder and draped his arms over his knees.

"I get it, you know? Risking your life for love," he said.

"Really?"

"Yeah," he chuckled weakly. "There was this girl, her name was Andrea. I was madly in love with her, I left the other vamps in my clan for her. That's what got me sent here."

"Oh," Dean replied.

"The other vamps didn't take too kindly to my betraying them, so they held me down and cut my head off."

"That sucks."

Benny only nodded.

They fell into a companionable silence, staring into the fire in front of them as they did.

The next day they made significant progress through purgatory. Benny understood Dean better, knowing why he was so dedicated to his mission, and Dean understood Benny as well. He was in purgatory because a hunter had cut his throat, he was there because he had fallen in love. They were kindred souls, making a trek through the land of monsters, having sacrificed themselves for love.

They were in a particularly peaceful (if you could call anything in purgatory peaceful, it was maybe closer to lifeless) part of purgatory, when Benny decided to break the silence that had continued since the day before, only broke for important statements, such as where to go and when to rest.

"So, Dean, tell me about this angel of yours."

The question momentarily caught Dean off guard, but since he was already using the power of his love to spur on the fire in his sword, it made sense to talk about Cas.

"He's awesome," was the first thing Dean said.

Benny didn't say anything in reply, waiting for Dean to continue with his description of his love.

"And I don't mean that like 'awesome,' like 'awesome,' well… anyway. First of all, he's a freaking angel! Do you know that I can't even see his true form without dying? And his true voice caused my ears to bleed the first time I heard it. And, apparently, when he's not in his human suit he's roughly the size of the chrysler building, which, like, shit. He's also been alive for almost two-thousand years and… well… it's seriously hard to believe that he could love me when he's all that, and I'm just… I'm just Dean Winchester," his voice became broken when he said that.

"I'm just Dean Winchester, screw up hunter, daddy's soldier. I've spent my whole life killing things because of what they are. I have so much blood on my hands… he's perfect, and I'm nothing, you know? But, I guess that's not how he sees me…

"He wrote this letter, a goodbye, when he intended to leave and never come back, to keep me safe and let me live a normal life, or some crazy shit like that. I don't think I was meant to ever actually read it, but I did. He… Well, he said some stuff about me that I don't really believe, I mean, me? Living my life for love? But… yeah…

"I guess the point is that he sees so much good in me that I don't see in myself, and I see a bunch of good in him that he doesn't see in himself? I guess that's how this works? We can both support each other and show that we're each worth something… because, hell, Cas is everything, and I was too much of a damn fool to tell him that until it was too late…"

As his speech trailed off, he looked up at the vampire, who had a look in his eyes. He could see the pain in Dean, the hope in Dean, the way that Cas made him feel and the way that Cas made him feel. Whatever was going on between the angel and the hunter was powerful.

"I have one question. Cher. Why does the angel appear to be Fallen to all us purgatory souls?"

Dean grimaced. "He's… he's half demon."

The vampire raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"His father is an angel, his mother is a demon. Well, mother because I think that's how biology works? He's male now. I'm pretty sure that angels can just change their gender at will."

"How does that work?"

"There's a demon and an angel that met in the garden and fell in love. It's a whole story, but Cas was born in the early first century, but they only recently married? Or mated? They've referred to it at both, so I'm not sure if that's the same thing, but whatever.."

"So Cas looks half-Fallen because he is half-Fallen?"

Dean gritted his teeth. "He had some demonic powers, which he only tapped into recently, but he is an angel, plain and simple."

They fell into a silence after that as they continued down the trail.

They met another dragon-like beast (which Benny called a Drakon, seriously? The Greeks couldn't be more original). Which gave them a bit of trouble. Ripping open Dean's side in the process of killing it, the blood from which triggered Benny's fangs. Dean was worried at first, but Benny had himself under control, and once the wound was bandaged (with the torn remains of Dean's flannel) the fangs receded once more.

They set up camp on the edge of a small pond that Benny said fed into the stream that led to the place where Castiel was.

Dean fell asleep almost as soon as they arrived there, his head resting on a root. Benny sat up, guarding the hunter.

Around midnight, there was a rustling in the bushes, and a woman stepped out from them. She had a dark complexion, and long black hair braided down her back. When Benny saw her he climbed to his feet in a shocked silence.

"Andrea?" he asked.

She smiled. "Hello, Benny."

There was a stirring behind Benny as Dean (who was a hunter, while he could fall asleep anywhere, and fit through any minor, normal disturbance, a new voice would alway wake him up). Dean sat up, groggily.

Andrea walked up to Benny and wrapped her arms around his head, pulling him in for a kiss that Benny eagerly returned. When they broke apart, Benny looked into her eyes.

"Andrea, how are you here?" he asked. "You're human, humans are supposed to go to heaven when you die!"

She shook her head sadly. "After they killed you they turned me into a vampire like you. For awhile I lived with them, but then a hunter killed me, now I'm here. I've been looking for you."

Benny cradled her face gently in one hand. "I've missed you." He said.

She kissed him again. "I've missed you too."

She stepped away from Benny and looked behind him at Dean. "Who is this?"

Benny followed her gaze with a smile. "Oh, that's Dean, he's a hunter, but he's trying to find the love of his life who's been trapped here. He's an angel, have you seen him? He might look slightly fallen."

"An angel?" Andrea asked, turning to look at Dean.

He nodded. "Have you seen him?"

"Castiel?" She called behind her.

From the same direction she had emerged came a man with dark tousled hair and bright blue eyes. He was only slightly shorter than Dean and was wearing a trench coat and suit with a crooked tie.

"Hello, Dean," he said, uncertainly.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, before running into the man's arms and pulling him into a hug. A little hesitant, Castiel returned it.

There was something wrong, Dean could feel it. Castiel was always reluctant in giving hugs, yes, but once he did, his hugs were always the best. You could always feel a comfortable weight on your back from his wings.

This time, Dean could not.

He stepped out of Castiel's arms and looked him in the eyes. They were good, close, almost the right shade of blue, but not quite…

"You're not Cas," Dean said.

Castiel turned to Andrea. "I don't think he believes me."

Andrea just shrugged. "It was worth a try."

Dean backed away from the imposter Cas, fear gripping his gut.

Andrea turned toward Benny and placed a hand gently on his cheek.

"My love, will you kill Dean for me?" She handed him a small knife. "Then we can be away and be happy together."

Benny smiled and nodded.

Dean's gut dropped.

That wasn't Andrea… they were sirens.

Chapter 48: Chapter 37

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Purgatory, 2010 AD

Benny turned toward Dean and the hunter could see it in his eyes: the vampire that had very quickly become Dean's friend was gone, in his place was whatever the siren had created. Benny was set on a path to kill Dean, and would not rest till it was accomplished.

Dean slowly backpedaled, conscious of the danger he was in.

Sirens were not like many of the other creatures Dean faced. There were generally three types of monsters. Vampires, werewolves, wendigos, and the like were mostly sentient, knowledgeable creatures who attacked humans because they needed to for food. Then there were the creatures that acted totally on instinct, either blinded by rage or too base to be able to understand what they were doing, such as ghosts and Drakons. Sirens were like shifters in that they only attacked humans for the pleasure of it.

Sirens were a rare monster for Dean to encounter. They were usually found in Ancient or Modern Greece and went hand-in-hand with the Olympian pantheon. They were sadists. They targeted their prey for the pleasure of watching them ruin their relationships and kill their loved ones, before getting tired of one target and moving on to the next.

The only way to kill a siren was with a bronze knife dipped in the blood of one of their victims. Dean was lucky, the sword Aziraphale had given him, though powerful and also flaming, happened to be bronze, and Benny was under the spell of the one siren.

The problem was that while killing Benny's siren would be relatively easy, killing fake Cas would be nigh impossible. Unless Dean could convince him to poison Benny again after Dean killed the first siren (which he doubted the siren would fall for) there would be no way of defeating him unless Dean allowed himself to be put under its spell, which would mean, by the way that siren magic worked, Dean would have to consume some of the siren's venom (which was found in its spit) by, most likely, kissing it.

Dean did not want to have to kiss a fake version of Cas. He wanted his first kiss with the angel to be with the real angel, goddamnit! Was that too much to ask?

That was all beside the point for now though, as the burly vampire was approaching him, knife in hand, fangs out to kill, and Dean was at a significant disadvantage:

Dean did not want to kill Benny, but Benny had no qualms about killing him

Dean still had a open and bleeding wound in his side, which significantly lowered his dexterity, speed, and strength

Benny was a vampire and naturally faster and stronger than Dean in the first place

Dean had to only cut Benny, and then attack the siren while Benny was still under its spell making the fight clearly two (or even three if not-Cas joined) verses one

All this added up to make Dean feel very worried about his chances of survival and/or success.

He quickly extinguished the flame on his sword so he was left with only the bronze blade. He stared down his vampire friend, aware of his pounding heart and the insistent pain in his side.

"Look, Benny," he began, knowing that he couldn't possibly talk him down, but hoping that it would achieve something for his troubles. "I know you're in there and you don't want it hurt me please—"

He was cut off as the vampire lept toward him with a snarl. Baring his fangs and clearly intending to bite Dean. The hunter dropped to the ground and rolled, popping up behind the vampire just as he spun around. Dean swung the sword in front of himself, trying to cut Benny in a way that won't hurt him too badly, but the vampire moved too fast for him, grabbing him by the throat.

Dean was forced to drop the sword in his hands and grabbed at Benny's arm, trying to pry his fingers from his throat.

Dean continued to try to pry the finger from his throat with one hand, then reached for his sword with the other. He felt the sword hilt against his fingers and gripped onto it. He lifted it off the floor and swung the tip of the sword upwards.

" Sorry Benny," he croaked.

He slid the sword down the vampire's arm causing him to cry out and pull his bleeding arm back. Dean dropped onto his butt and crawled backwards, grabbing his sword and climbing to his feet.

Benny turned toward Dean, eyes dark in pain and anger.

Fake-Andrea stood behind Benny, which meant that Dean still had to get through him to be able to stop her. That was going to be seriously hard to do, what with the bruised throat and reopened side wound.

Benny lept toward him once more and Dean dropped back down to the ground, he could feel blood following faster down his side as he crawled across the ground.

Benny's siren began to cackle.

Benny grabbed Dean by the ankle and pulled him back toward him, leaving a trail on the ground underneath him. The vampire lifted him into the air and threw him against a tree, his open side crashed into the wood and Dean cried out in pain and slid down to the ground under the tree.

"This is more entertaining than I thought it would be," the siren said, laughing at Dean, who lay under Benny who was standing over his groaning figure.

Dean glanced between Benny's legs and saw the siren was standing right next to his sword. He pushed himself to his hands and knees and ducked around the vampire.

Benny grabbed his leg once more but not before he closed his hand around the sword's hilt. He twisted his leg (snapping his knee out of joint in the process) and escaped Benny's grasp, landing on the ground at the siren's feet.

"Take this, you bitch," Dean hissed, then plunged the sword through her gut and up toward her heart.

She screamed in pain and crumpled to the ground in front of Dean. The hunter dropped onto his stomach, heaving for breath.

He heard footsteps behind him, and felt Benny's arms grab him around the chest and hoist him to his feet. He held him up as he leaned in his side, careful not to put weight in his injured leg.

"I'm sorry, brother." Benny said, his voice heavy. "I could see what I was doing but couldn't—"

"I know, Benny." Dean slapped his friend on the back. "It wasn't your fault, you were under the siren's spell."

"Impressive," a voice said from where Dean had killed the siren. He looked over to see fake Cas standing over the body. "But what are you going to do about me?"

He smirked, and it twisted Cas' face in a disgusting way.

Benny looked between Dean and the sword that was lying at their feet.

"Can't you just kill him like you did the other?"

Dean shook his head. As he had foreseen, he was facing a dilemma. Sirens were hard to kill, this siren would kill them before they could kill it. They needed the blood of a creature under this siren's spell, something they did not have, at least not yet…

Dean turned to Benny. "I need you to do something for me," he said. "When I'm under his spell, it's going to try to get me to kill you. I want you to cut me with that blade, then use the blade to kill the siren. The only way to kill them is with the blood of someone under the siren's spell."

"Brother, what are you…"

Dean ignored Benny. Letting go of him, he hobbled toward Not-Cas.

"This is going to be gross," he muttered under his breath.

He grabbed the siren by the front of his trench coat and pulled him up to meet his lips, willing himself not to gag. The kiss at first one nothing but a touch of lips, but Dean needed saliva to be put under the siren's spell completely, so he shoved his tongue (his stomach turning all the while) into the siren's mouth.

When he was sure that he'd done enough to be under the thing's spell he stepped back and gagged, then actually vomited. That had to be the absolute worst kiss of his life.

"Clever plan, Dean Winchester, but it's not going to work."

The siren smiled, Dean felt his heart flip, and fill with all of his love. Boy did he love Cas, completely. He would do anything for him.

"Pick up your sword, Dean," Castiel said in a deep voice that sent a current down Dean's spine.

Dean smiled, and did as Castiel said.

He didn't even notice the worry on Benny's face as the first part of Dean's plan fell apart.

"Now, Dean, about two days journey from here there is a stream, and an imposter pretending to be me. I need you to kill him."

Dean smiled, not afraid for his adoration to show on his face completely. Of course he would do that, he would do anything for Cas.

His sword ignited with flames.

Ignoring Benny, Dean turned the direction the siren had indicated.

Find the imposter Cas.

Kill him.

Notes:

Let's see, will Dean kill the real Cas? Or will Benny be able to stop the imposter in time? Find out next time, when you join us for more adventures in purgatory!

Chapter 49: Chapter 38

Chapter Text

Purgatory, 2010 AD

Dean had been travelling for a day and a half, Cas' words always in his mind. He had to do what the angel asked of him to show him how much he meant to him. He loved Cas, more than he had ever loved anyone before in his life. Cassie was barely a burning match to the bonfire that was his love for Castiel.

The thought that someone could take his angel's face and pretend to be him? It was insane. Dean could understand why his angel would want them dead.

And after Dean killed the imposter? Then he would be able to tell Cas everything he felt for him. He would be able to bring Cas home, be with him for the rest of his life, show him just how much he meant to him.

The very idea caused a smile that couldn't go away to spread across Dean's face.

He had never imagined the apple pie life for himself, that was always for Sammy, but with Cas… suddenly with Cas he could imagine settling down happily, not feeling like he was missing something because he was not hunting. He could imagine waking up next to Cas each morning, and going to sleep with him each night. He imagine and house that was theirs, his and Cas', he imagined silver bands around their fingers, kisses casually exchanged when Dean left in the morning, and when he came back from his non-hunter job, and different kisses exchanged in bed at night, kisses leading to something else, something that would be different with Cas than with anyone else, because it would mean something.

Suddenly, Dean's happy ending was there right in front of him. He didn't need to go out with a bang, if he could live with Cas, a long life with Cas, laying in the angel's arms as he slowly faded away.

And, maybe Dean wouldn't be saving lives through hunting anymore, but maybe he could save them another way. He could take in the children that the rest of society no longer wanted. The children who were deemed insane, unadoptable, because they had seen their parents killed by the supernatural.

Or the kids that would be treated wrongly by the adoption system because they weren't "normal" when really what they meant was that they weren't heteronormative. How many years had Dean struggled with that very thing? How much better would Dean have been if someone had just told him that it was okay that he was attracted to guys as well as girls, and that it didn't make him broken?

He had always wanted kids, somewhere deep down that he never let himself think about, and he could picture himself and Cas happy together, raising and helping kids, living the perfect life.

So, with that fantasy at the forefront of his mind, that perfect future, Dean pushed on through the pain. He ignored the blood pouring from his side, knowing that once he killed the imposter, Cas would heal him, as well as his throbbing knee. He clutched his sword tight and pushed himself onwards.

Castiel had been in purgatory for a month and a half, he was used to it. There was a river that he would sit on the edge of every day. It was still, quiet. A few times in the beginning monsters had come toward him, but he had very quickly gotten rid of them, either with hellfire, or smiting. They had mostly learned their lesson now.

There had been a few sirens, baring Dean's face, and trying to tempt him into their clutches: he couldn't imagine how useful an Archangel would be to a siren who wished to take over here. He could tell though. He knew when the siren was a siren and when they were Dean. They were never Dean, there was no glowing, brilliant, soul behind their emerald eyes.

Part of Cas was glad that he hadn't seen Dean, the hunter hadn't come for him, another part of him was saddened. It was silly. Castiel knew he had the power to return to earth whenever he so desired by just opening a tear in the fabric of purgatory and reentering the earthly plain, and could go after Dean whenever he wanted. It was better that the hunter didn't come after him.

This was Cas' plan, after all, to be separated from Dean to keep him safe. He guessed it would just be hard for the first few years, maybe even decades, but it would get better.

There was the sound of rustling leaves behind him and Castiel stood from where he was squatting by the river and turned. Into the clearing walked a man, a man with amber hair and green eyes, and the brightest, purest soul shining within him.

"Dean…" Castiel gasped.

The hunter had followed him after all. Did that mean that he was in love with him? Had Michael been telling the truth? Castiel shook that thought away, dismissing his hope.

Dean was his friend that was the only reason he was here.

Dean gritted his teeth. "I have to be honest with you, you did a really good job, you even sound like him, but you're not Cas."

He pointed a sword at Cas. A flaming sword. The flaming sword. Aziraphale's flaming sword.

"Dean?" Castiel was confused.

"He told me that I would find the imposter here, and once I kill you, I'll have everything! Cas, the real Cas, will come home with me, and we'll be happy, forever!"

Castiel squinted in confusion. What was wrong with Dean? It was almost as if… Well, it was almost as if Dean was under a siren's spell, but that was insane. Siren's sent people against the person that mattered to them the most, why would they send Dean after him? It would obviously be Sam that the siren would send him to target.

"Dean," the angel said. "It's me."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, nice trick, but I know what you are, you're not Cas!!"

That was another thing, usually when people were under the siren's spell they would see someone who was not their loved one then they would throw their loved one aside for the siren. Sure, Cas had seen Dean, but he assumed that was because he was unwaveringly in love with Dean and so could not be tricked into falling for anyone who wasn't him.

"Once you're Dead, Cas and I will have the life I've dreamed of having with him, and everything will be better."

"Yes," a voice that was a perfect replica of Castiel's own said, as a perfect copy of Cas stepped from the trees behind Dean, smiling at the scene.

Dean's siren.

Which, if Dean thought that the siren was the real him…

Would mean that Dean wouldn't have gone for a siren that wasn't Cas…

Which would mean that he returned Cas'…

He again shook his hope away.

Dean approached Cas, sword outstretched toward his heart. Dean was going to kill him, and Castiel could do nothing, because if he did something he would hurt Dean, who was already noticeably in a lot of pain, bleeding from his side and limping on one leg.

"Goodbye, bastard," Dean hissed.

Castiel closed his eyes, reminding himself that he wasn't his Dean that was doing this, that Dean didn't hate him. Knowing that this was his last second, he allowed himself to imagine what the future Dean had talked about would be like, holding Dean as he slept peacefully, unworried about heaven or hell or the apocalypse. Maybe Crowley would be able to show him how to sleep, so he would be able to fall asleep while holding Dean, and wake up beside him every morning. Maybe…

There was a cry that echoed around the clearing as Castiel was stabbed through the heart.

Benny had quickly realised that he still had the dagger his siren had given him, and, more noticeably, it was made of the same material as Dean's sword. He hoped that would make it a suitable replacement. He also realised that he didn't need to cut Dean to use his blood, Dean was bleeding all over the forest floor.

Benny dipped the knife in Dean's blood and followed after the siren and the hunter. He followed them for the full of the two days, until he heard voices in a clearing, two were clearly the voice of Dean's siren, who had, as far as Benny could tell, taken the face of Dean's angel lover. Which meant Dean had found the angel, and the target the siren had sent him to find.

"Goodbye, Bastard," Dean said.

Benny emerged from the forest into the clearing to see the scene. Dean was pointing a sword at one version of the dark-haired man, presumably the real one, who had his eyes closed and tears running down his face. The other stood behind Dean, watching with a grin.

That was the siren.

Before Dean could stab his Castiel, Benny ran up behind the siren and stabbed it in the heart through the back. It screamed as it fell and Benny pulled the knife from its back. As it fell to the ground it faded back into its true form.

Dean's eyes widened as he took in the sword, and the angel in front of him. Castiel had opened his eyes at the scream and was staring into Dean's.

Dean dropped the sword and fell into the angel's chest. He caught the hunter, holding him close.

"Dean?" the angel whispered.

Dean dug his hands into Castiel's trench coat, shaking as tears ran down his face.

"Cas," he sobbed back.

Chapter 50: Chapter 39

Chapter Text

Purgatory, 2010 AD

Castiel could tell that Dean was still weak from the siren's spell, so he just stood there for a second and held him close as he shook in his arms. Then, remembering his injured side and arm, he pushed his grace into healing him. Dean curled his head into the space under Castiel's chin, eyes closed, as though he was just taking him in, letting out a relieved breath when Castiel's "mojo" worked its magic.

"I thought I lost you," the hunter whispered against his neck. "I was so afraid that I lost you."

Castiel couldn't help but be confused. Dean was holding him tightly, not letting go. If Castiel took into account the shape of Dean's siren, then it made sense that Dean was in love with him, but surely Dean wouldn't still love him if he knew the truth? Which means he couldn't know the truth about Castiel's creation and…

Castiel carefully extracted himself from the hunter's grasp, taking a step back and looking at the hunter.

"Dean, you shouldn't be here," the angel reprimanded him. How long had Dean been in purgatory? What had happened to him while he was there? What was going to happen now? This would have been so, so much easier if Dean had just stayed away, if Cas could have just mourned in peace.

He'd given himself a moment to contemplate a future with Dean, and now it would hurt so much more when he ripped that away.

"Why, Cas? Because you think you're some kind of monster because you're half demon?" Dean asked.

So, he did know, then why wasn't he running in blind panic as far away from Cas as he could get? "You've been to hell, Dean. You know what kind of mon–"

"Not you," Dean hissed. "You're not like them. Hell, Crowley is not like them! Cas, whether you're good or bad has nothing to do with what you're born as and everything to do with what you do . All I've ever seen you do was good. Every action you take is because you believe it's right, and most of the time it is. You might mess up sometimes, but we all do that!

"I read your letter, Cas. You said some stuff in it that I don't believe really… me? Do everything for love? Cas, I'm such a screw-up, yet you told me that I'm pure? I'm good? You called me the righteous man, and you believed it. I want to believe it too." Dean took a deep breath. "I'm trying to.

"But that goes both ways Cas. You seem to think that you're different, now that you know the truth, some kind of monster, but you're no different than what you were before. My best friend, the greatest, purest person I ever met," his voice shook. "The love of my life, Cas. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

"I'm not good enough for you, Cas. You're an angel. Sure, you were always stiff, and not-quite-human, but you tried . Dammit Cas, you tried to reach me. You were the first person that really understood me. You saved me. You went to hell for me, Cas. No monster could have done that.

"Please understand, Cas, nothing will change the way I feel about you. I love you, and you're the first person I've ever said that to."

He took a deep shuddering breath. By this point, there were tears brimming in his eyes, and his arms were wrapped around his chest as though he was uncomfortable, but he managed to continue.

"Please, Cas, come back home. We, your family, our family, Sam, Bobby, Aziraphale, Crowley, we all want you back." He looked Cas in the eyes. "I want you , half-demon or not."

Castiel was crying too. He could feel spirals of his grace reaching out toward Dean, willing to comfort him. He stepped forward and, shakily, pulled Dean to his chest. The hunter gripped his shoulder like they were his lifeline.

"I'll try to believe you, my love," Castiel whispered into the hunter's ear.

"I love you," he whispered into Castiel's shoulder again, tears staining the angel's trench coat.

They stood there, just holding each other. Safe, home in each other's arms. All the tension from the past couple months drained off their shoulders. Dean was happy and safe in Castiel's arms, no longer possessed by Michael, and no longer lying with a colt bullet through his brain. And Dean had Castiel, who was no longer going to run away, to hate himself for what he was born as. This was it, this was their ending.

Someone cleared their throat behind them. Dean stepped back out of Castiel's arms and turned around to see who it was. That's when he remembered Benny. Benny was still there.

Castiel narrowed his eyes as he studied the vampire who was still holding the knife he had used, a siren corpse at his feet.

"Not that I'm not happy for you, chief, but I am kinda just standing here."

"Who is that?" Castiel asked.

Dean barked a laugh. So much weight had been lifted off his shoulders, he couldn't believe it.

"Cas, this is Benny," he said, introducing his angel to his vampire friend. "He's the one that helped me through purgatory."

Castiel smiled at Benny and offered him his hand, they shook.

"I take it you're Castiel, Dean's angel?" Benny asked.

Castiel nodded. "Thank you for killing the siren."

Benny nodded. "You're welcome. Least I could do."

"I'm afraid that Dean would have killed me had you not done anything."

"Really?" Dean asked, his face paling. "That sword could kill you?"

"Undoubtedly," Castiel replied. "That's the first blade, it can kill anything, but only few can wield it without going insane."

Dean paled.

Castiel wrapped an arm around Dean. The hunter did a good job of hiding it, but Castiel could see the terror in his eyes as he realised how close he came to actually killing the love of his life. (which, didn't that shake Cas to the core? Dean had called him the love of his life).

"We should get out of here," Castiel said.

Dean nodded.

Castiel placed a gentle kiss on Dean's head, something he'd been dying to do for a while. Dean flushed down his neck toward his chest.

"I assume Benny is coming with us?"

Dean nodded.

Castiel unwrapped his hand from around Dean, who went over to talk to the vampire about how exactly they were going to get him out of purgatory. The Archangel looked at the stream in front of him, closing his eyes and concentrating on what he was about to do. He wanted to open a tear between purgatory and earth. Best place to do it was where the fabric of the worlds was weak.

He held his hand out and concentrated, pulling himself toward a spot where all of heaven and hell and the powers of the earth had once met, twenty years before.

A glowing golden crack opened in front of him.

He turned around to find Dean standing by himself, his arm pulsing with a contained soul.

"You ready?" Dean asked him.

Castiel looked into Dean's eyes, and standing there, like that, he could remember what Dean said. He loved Cas. He believed Cas was good, pure, not a monster. He could make himself believe that too.

"Yes," he replied.

The hunter and the angel took each other's hands and stepped through the portal, into a new future, a new life together.

Chapter 51: Chapter 50: (Epilogue)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sioux Falls, 2010 AD

Dean, Castiel, Bobby, Sam, Benny, Sam's new hunting buddy, Garth (who was absolutely annoying, but starting to grow on both the Winchesters, though Benny still found him beyond irritating), Azirpahale, Crowley, and Gabriel were all seated around a table in the Bobby's house. It had been a couple weeks since Dean and Castiel had appeared in Tadfield after coming out of a crack in reality. They had been found by a man about Dean's age whose name was Adam. He'd brought them to Aziraphale and Crowley, who had helped them get Benny back into his body, before taking all three of them to Bobby's.

Sam had pulled both Dean and Cas into a crushing hug, welcoming them back home with tears in his eyes. Bobby had called them both idjits, had told them that he was glad that they'd finally gotten the stick out of their asses and gotten together, and given them both a beer.

Sam was a bit wary of Benny at first, until Dean told Sam about purgatory. Sam had then introduced him to Garth, and told him about his hunting exploits over the last month. Dean hadn't been happy that Sam was still hunting, but when Sam had explained that that was really what he wanted to do, Dean had finally agreed to drop the subject.

Dean and Castiel had their first kiss the day after they came back. They had been laying on Baby's hood, staring up at the star. Or, well, Castiel was staring at the stars, Dean was staring at his profile, mostly his lips, thinking about what they would taste like.

Castiel glanced over at him, squinting. "Dean?" he wondered.

The hunter blushed, then looked up into Castiel's eyes. "Cas, can I kiss you?" he asked tentatively.

A wide smile split across the angel's face.

"Yes, Dean."

Dean placed a hand against Castiel's jaw, running a finger along his cheek with a smile. He leaned forward and pressed his lips into Cas'. The angel leaned into the kiss and grabbed Dean's waist, pulling him closer, reaching one hand to cradle the hunter's head.

It was heaven, being with Cas. It was perfect. He kept the kiss chaste and gentle, but let it go on and on and on, finally pulling away when he needed to breathe.

Castiel was smiling, and Dean returned his grin. They gripped each other's hand and lay back on the hood of the Impala. Dean couldn't wipe a smile from his face. Being with Cas, it was perfect.

Soon after they had fallen into an interesting rhythm. Sam, Garth, and Benny were all hunting together. Dean and Castiel were dating, and hunting together, coincidently they were attached together at the… well, everything (to quote a demon from a certain other universe, where the apocalypse hadn't exactly ended the same way).

They were all happy.

Sure, Dean hadn't yet been able to muster up the courage to talk about that future he'd imagined, but he was waking up every morning beside the angel (who had indeed been learning from Crowley how to sleep, and was now absolutely addicted). And that was better than he had ever imagined he would get.

Today, they were playing poker, and Dean had folded not long before. He was the only one who really knew Cas' tells, and he was certain that his boyfriend actually had a good hand and wasn't bluffing, unlike the others.

"Two pairs," Sam said, displaying his cards on the table.

Next to him, Garth set down his cards. Dean was expecting that he had been bluffing the whole time, most of Garth's tells were obvious.

"Four of a Kind," Garth said.

Dean whistled. Sam's eyes widened. Benny, who wasn't playing, chuckled.

"Pair," Bobby huffed. Dean rolled his eyes. The stubborn hunter had a tendency to not fold when he obviously should.

"Straight flush," Azirpahale said, setting down an impressive hand.

"You cheated, angel," Crowley said, glaring at his husband.

Aziraphale giggled. "Really, dear, you don't have any faith in me?"

Crowley dropped his hand on the table. He had absolutely nothing. For the devil, he was very bad at gambling.

"Azirpahale, I gotta stand with my brother on this one," Gabriel said, setting down four nines.

'You were cheating too!" Crowley said, pointing out that Bobby also had a nine in his hand.

Gabriel's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow, who would have thought! Someone added an extra nine to the deck!"

The devil huffed. The viceroy of heaven winked at him with a smirk.

Gabriel turned toward his nephew, who was glaring at the cards in his hands, then at the ones on the table.

"What about you, Cassie?"

Castiel set down his cards. Ten, Jack, Queen, King, Ace of spades.

Dean laughed at the faces of everyone else at the table as his boyfriend pulled in the cash in the centre. Protests were heard across the table, but no one else had a double of any of Cas' cards. Azriaphale even checked the deck.

What they didn't know was that when Dean folded, he had slid Cas the Ace of Spades.

He continued to laugh as his family squabbled over the deck.

"Another hand?" he asked.

Castiel smiled, Garth jumped in his seat, Sam lowered Dean with his most intense I-know-you-and-Cas-are-cheating,-but-I-don't-know-how bitch-face, Azirphale seemed to be considering the idea.

"Let'ssssss," Crowley said.

Dean picked up the cards and began to deal again. Once he was done, Castiel slipped his hand into his under the table.

He was happier than he had ever been in his life.

Fin

Notes:

That's a rap. For this fic at least! But not this universe!

Firstly, I want to give a big thank you to everyone who has read this fic and stuck it out to the end. This is my longest fic (and one of my favourites to write!) as well as my most popular, so thank you!!!

For anyone who hasn't noticed yet, apart from being a part of my Good Omens/Supernatural series, this fic is also a part of the Ineffable Family series, which is a series that will continue in this universe. All of Dean's idea for his and Castiel's future may or may not just come true! I have the series fully plotted, so it shouldn't take too long. The sequel (which includes a wedding for a certain pair of individuals) is currently in the work and should (hopefully) be out before the end of the month!!

Again, thank you all for reading, commenting, and kudosing, it made me so happy! Your comments always make my day!

-ΑΛΣ

Notes:

Thanks for reading! If you like it, please give me feedback, comments and kudos are always appreciated and I'll try to reply to every one when I see it! I hope you enjoy reading this!

Series this work belongs to:

Previous Work Part 3 of Supernatural and Good Omens Crossovers

Part 1 of Ineffable Family Next Work

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