Author's Note: The later part of this chapter will help explain Castiel's lines at the beginning of the Scoobynatural episode. Similar to "naked, covered in bees", this simply needed a story to add more context. I do not own Supernatural. PLEASE REVIEW!

***Ember POV***

March 1

TWO MONTHS LATER

Days passed slowly.

Now that Castiel had wings, he spent the majority of most days away from home, searching for Lucifer. He always came back at least once a day, in the evenings, to check on Ember and lay with her until she fell asleep.

Ember had slowly rebuilt her business, and now was working part-time. Some of the clients had resumed therapy from before Ember's long sleep; a few were from before her pregnancy, even. Most of them were newer. In the process of seeking out new clients, Ember passed Dean and Sam a few leads to track down, to keep them busy as well.

Donatello, the prophet, had told them with certainty that he'd found evidence that the demon tablet did contain a spell to open a doorway to the other world, and he was busy translating it. There was hope, then, and Ember visited Donatello at least once a week. She even convened with Charlie to see if there was a way that the tablet could be decoded somehow by human or angel eyes. Unfortunately, the slab of stone remained intelligible only to Donatello, the current anointed prophet.

Arthur Ketch hadn't contacted the group since their last meeting. And, despite Castiel's best efforts, Lucifer remained in the wind. It was, then, a game of waiting – waiting on news from Ketch or from Castiel, and waiting on Donatello to finish with the tablet.

Ember had never liked waiting, but she still felt guilty about the incident in Asmodeus' jail. It had happened, she thought, because she became too impatient, too desperate. If she'd only waited, perhaps she and Castiel would have found another way out. Perhaps they'd have been able to rescue Jack already…

Therefore, Ember did her best to stay busy, either with her job or her children. At least this time they had a plan, and when they could, they would rescue Jack.

"We taught him well," said Castiel. "He knows how to use his powers, and how to fly, and he's powerful enough to survive, even there." But even Castiel's words didn't stop Ember's worry.

Finally, Ember was in the middle of skyping with a client in Ontario when she felt the flutter of wings and swooping feeling that she had come to associate with flying. She was at first scared that she was being kidnapped, until she saw Castiel's familiar trenchcoat and smelled the bunker's reassuring odor of dusty books and polished tables.

"Donatello finished the translation," Castiel provided, recognizing her look of disapproval at his lack of warning.

As it turned out, the spell to open the portal to the other world required "the hearts of Gog and Magog."

"Um, they're—they're people. Kind of," Donatello offered. "They're sometimes referred to as brothers, other times lands. Uh… you know how Bibles are. Too damn many translations."

"Wait, Gog and Magog?" asked Castiel thoughtfully. "I'd—I'd heard rumors, but I didn't think they were human."

"Good!" exclaimed Ember. "I've been wanting to fight with something that will put up a good fight!"

Sam, Dean, and Castiel all looked at her strangely.

"You sure you're okay?" asked Sam delicately.

"Yes," Ember said, sighing. "It's just been too damn long of a wait."

***Castiel POV***

March 1

Castiel was in love. He had learned, over the past almost year since his resurrection, what humans meant when they spoke of "feeling young again." But it was more than that: this half-demon woman had given him back his wings, second only to his grace in importance and something he never thought he would have again. They were sleek and white again, like they had been even before his sojourn in Hell ten years ago. He would cherish Ember for all of her days, and when she finally passed… well, he wasn't sure what he would do.

If there was any emotion that overwhelmed even his love for Ember, it was his pride for his son. He had been lucky enough to spend almost three months imparting his knowledge of the world to Jack. While this hadn't been nearly enough time, it had been long enough for Castiel to teach Jack a solid basis in how to use his powers, how to defend himself, and even some strategy.

Therefore, he wasn't as worried about Jack as Ember was. Nothing short of possibly Michael himself could even hurt the boy. And while he was anxious for the time when they would next meet, Castiel felt confident that this time would come. He had faith in the Winchesters and faith in Ember.

Though things had changed for Castiel in the last 10 years, at his core he was still an angel, and still thousands of years old. With that age came knowledge, and foresight. The truth was that Castiel had a far greater worry even than his son, one that he hadn't yet voiced to Ember and had only begun to voice to Dean. If Michael did return, he would certainly make war. Castiel knew that if this happened, he would take up the mantle of Commander of the angels, yet again. He was the obvious choice. He had won wars for angel-kind before, and he now was one of only two angels in this dimension with a proper set of wings. Of those two, he was by far the more trustworthy, and the one the others would be most likely to follow. Perhaps Michael would attempt to convert the angels from their dimension to his side. Castiel would fight this, just as he had with Raphael. There would be other angels, from Michael's world, that still remembered God's true message, as well.

Castiel wasn't worried for himself as much as he was worried for his family, however. During the previous wars – the ones with Raphael, Metatron, and even before that – he had managed a certain amount of privacy in that he had barely involved the Winchesters. This time would be different, though, for several reasons. First, he and Ember were far more serious, and this time she would not be so easily pushed aside. Second, they had no hope of winning this war without Jack. Finally, there weren't enough angels in Heaven anymore to mount a feasible defense against Michael. They would need the Winchesters, and all of Ember's power, and even Lucifer, despite how much Castiel hated the idea.

The Winchesters and Ember knew nothing of war, however. They made decisions based on a code of ethics, a code which couldn't be afforded in war, and Castiel knew this. How would they fare when they were truly faced with a situation in which humanity depended on the greater good?

The time to find out came sooner than Castiel had hoped. Gog and Magog had no hearts. They had been tricked… somehow. Worse, when Castiel, Ember, and Dean returned home from fighting the primordial beings, they found that Donatello had attacked Sam.

"We were prepping the spell and he just… snapped," Sam explained, holding a cold compress to his head. Sam had gotten the better of Donatello, though, who was now in the dungeon. As they watched from a hidden camera, Donatello stomped around, mumbling in fast-paced Enochian.

"Donatello wanted them to kill us," said Castiel. "He wants us dead."

But why? Why? It continued to puzzle Castiel as he and Ember watched the brothers confront Donatello in the dungeon. Donatello did some quick magic and almost got the better of Dean. At the last second, Castiel flew into the room and nullified the spell.

A few minutes later, they gathered in the kitchen. "Alright, what else do we know?" asked Dean. "Besides all work and no play makes Donatello a homicidal boy?"

"Maybe something in the tablet snapped him," said Sam. He had just hung up from talking to Eileen on his tablet. She'd been called upon to hunt a banshee in Sweden, but would be back within the week.

"No, no," Castiel said. "Prophets are conduits. Whatever's in the tablets should just flow through them. I heard of one who was tempted once, but never fully corrupted."

"It's the demon tablet," Ember suggested. "Maybe it's different."

But Castiel shook his head again. "No, it doesn't work like that."

"Well, Kevin translated it, and it was hard on him, sure, but he—he never went full-on psycho," said Dean.

"Okay, so what was different about Donatello?" asked Castiel.

Sam looked up suddenly. "He doesn't have a soul."

"What?" said Castiel, horrified. If that was the case, he never should have been translating the tablet. This was bad, this was very bad…

Ember had put her head in her hands, and his concern was reflected in her brown eyes, peeking out at him from between her fingers.

"Is that bad?" Dean asked, and Ember gave a frustrated groan.

"Yes, that's bad," Castiel said. "Theoretically, the human soul would act as a filter inoculating the prophet against whatever darkness is in the tablet."

"Alright. Um, well, how do we fix him?" asked Dean.

Castiel shook his head. "I don't think we do," he admitted.

"Okay. Hold on," said Dean.

"We were so close!" said Sam. "We almost had it."

"What are you talkin' about?" asked Dean.

"Our plan, Dean," he answered. "The spell, get mom back. Donatello's soul is gone. That's not just something you come back from."

"You did," Dean fired back to Sam.

"Yeah, because you convinced Death to get my soul back from the cage, but Amara ate Donatello's soul. There's nothing to get back. It's gone."

Ember's eyes had narrowed to slits. Castiel understood that she was waiting on him to make a move. "Donatello's already corrupted," he said. I… perhaps the kindest thing to do would be to end his suffering."

Both brothers looked at him with surprise. "What?"

Castiel looked at Ember, a question in his eyes, and she nodded in return. "I don't like it either," he said. "But if Donatello's life ends, then another prophet comes into being and they can finish the translation."

"If he hasn't already finished it," Ember added. "He led us astray on purpose, but there's no reason to believe he doesn't actually know the real spell."

"And if he doesn't?" asked Dean. "You're just gonna kill him?"

"It would be a mercy kill, Sam," Ember spoke up. "He's just as evil as any of the monsters you fight, and now he's just as magical."

"No!" said Sam, glaring at Ember. "No killing! We just need the spell!"

But Castiel shook his head. He looked at Ember one more time, and she gave him one last nod. "Fine," he said. Then he flew into the room with Donatello, and bolted the door behind him.

"The spell to open the gate—you gave us the wrong ingredients," Castiel accused.

"Duh," said the prophet.

"But you know the right ones."

"I might," he said. "But like I told Sam and Dean, you're wasting your time."

Castiel took off his trench coat, feeling the return of the rush of being a Commander. "Well, I'm not Sam and Dean."

"What are you gonna do?"

"I am going to do something that I promised I would never do to a human being without their permission," he admitted. "I'm gonna strip the spell from your mind."

"You—you—you—you can't!" Donatello said, his eyes growing wide. "I—I've absorbed too much power. Y-y-you'll fry us both!"

"I might," Castiel admitted, though he very much doubted it. He raised his hand and placed it on Donatello's head. The man's mind was like Ember's now, in that he could feel the natural resistance that came from being at least part demon. He was corrupted, more even than Castiel had thought. His mind was much darker than Ember's though, and twisted and turned in gruesome ways that Castiel did not want to follow. It reminded Castiel of Ember when her demon side had gained control.

"Ardeat intus—…" Donatello began, but Castiel covered his mouth to stop him from saying the spell.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to let you or anyone hurt the people I love," he said. "Not again!" He could feel the rush between his fingers, and felt his angel power flow through the man's mind. And then he had the answers, and Donatello's mind went dead.

When he opened the door, he took in Sam and Dean's shocked and appalled faces and Ember's determined one. "Well, I know what we have to do," he said, and marched out of the room. Ember followed him, while Sam and Dean ran inside to look over the prophet.

"Well?" Ember asked, running up behind him. "What do we have to do?"

"The spell is complicated," said Castiel. "We don't have the ingredients. It will take at least a week, most likely longer, to collect them, even with my wings. And we'll need archangel grace, like we thought."

Ember deflated visibly, throwing herself into his arms. "We'll find them," Castiel said. "I've told you, Jack's fine. We've taught him enough that he's fine."

"I know," she whispered, holding onto him. From somewhere behind them, they heard the sounds of Sam and Dean working hard to quickly heft Donatello's body out of the bunker and to a place where they could call 9-1-1. There was shouting, and the unmistakable noise of the Impala.

"Okay," said Ember, her eyes watery. "What ingredients to do we need?"

"Blood of a most holy man," said Castiel. "That'll be easy. It will take me a day or two at the most. A fruit from the Tree of Life will be more difficult. Last I heard, it was guarded by a pack of djinn in Syria. I'll need your help with that one, probably.

"The Seal of Solomon… I don't even know where we'd find that, and my magic won't help me seek it out. That'll be all research, I suppose. And the archangel grace."

Ember heaved another sob, falling once more into his trenchcoat. When her sobs had subsided, she said, "I don't suppose Donatello's going to make it?"

"He's alive," Castiel answered. "His mind is not."

"They won't be happy," Ember commented dully.

"And you?" he asked.

"I want my son back," she said determinedly. "I don't care what it takes."

"And what about Michael?" he asked.

"What about Michael?" she asked, but she lifted her eyes, and a determined look was on her face.

"He'll come through eventually," Castiel admitted. "Lucifer was telling the truth, or at least he believes he is. All of those ingredients will be much more readily available on his side, where angels rule. Ember… it'll mean war. For me… for you… for Jack. The decision I made today is one of many decisions that I'll have to make – that we'll have to make – to win a war. For the greater good. We can't save everyone, or we'll die trying for sure."

Ember sighed, though she didn't detangle herself from Castiel's arms. "Cas," she whispered. "I love you. And… I knew who you were when we started dating again." She smiled, though it was a forced, watery smile. "Why do you think I gave you back the wings?"

***Ember POV***

March 8

"Blood of a most holy man" had been easy. Castiel had found a priest in the Vatican who had a reputation for being an outstanding citizen and taken some blood while the man had been asleep. The ease with which Castiel could now complete tasks like this thanks to his wings hadn't played a part in Ember's decision to forcibly use Lucifer's power to remake them, but now she was more glad than ever that she'd done so. She shuddered to think about how long this simple task would have taken had he been human.

"Fruit from the Tree of Life" was a bit more complicated.

"How many are there?" Ember asked Castiel, staring from a distance at the Tree of Life.

"Twenty… one… I think," said Castiel slowly.

"You think?" asked Ember. It wasn't like Castiel to be unsure.

"Their magic prevents me from knowing exactly," he said. "And if we get close enough to see them, they'll see us as well. But I'm pretty sure."

Ember sighed. "How many can you take out at one time?"

"Djinn? Safely? With just angel powers, with one hit?" Castiel considered for a moment. "Maybe five or six."

"Okay," Ember said. "How many can I take out with one hit?"

Castiel considered again, looking lost in thought. "Without your powers, maybe one or two. With your powers that you have since my brother is still out of the box and filled up on grace… maybe four. If we're lucky."

"Well, that settles it then," Ember said.

"What?" asked Castiel looking confused.

"We'll duck in and grab the submachine guns and the assault rifles and go crazy while we're invisible, and from the air. Djinn are only an issue if they touch you, and you said there's no civilians around."

Castiel looked surprised. "Well that… that would definitely make things easier. But…"

Ember raised her eyebrows. The angel looked petulant. "It's the tree of Life," he finally said. "I don't want to spray it with bullets."

Ember gave him her best scathing look. "Okay, fine," he said finally. "I'll grab the guns from the Impala and I'll be right back."

***Castiel POV***

March 9, Evening

In the end, the machine guns had taken out most of the djinn. They were out of ammunition, however, and there were still eleven of them left. No, that was wrong, Castiel realized. Twelve. There were twelve left, but one was very weak.

"You have killed our king!" exclaimed one of the remaining djinn. It was a female – Castiel could tell from her breasts, even though her body was almost entirely blue and her hair was kept short.

"I am Queen Raja," said the djinn woman, stepping forward. "It has been our job for centuries to keep this tree safe from the humans. The magic of the Tree of Life and its fruit cannot be allowed to pass into the hands of humanity, or it will wreak havoc like has never been seen!"

Castiel had seen what happened when magic passed into the hands of humanity several times, and so he had to admit that Queen Raja actually had a point. He sighed. "I need the fruit for a spell. I am an Angel of the Lord."

"We know this, of course," said Queen Raja. "We are not savages. We can recognize an angel. We have tangled with them before, but not for an age. But today, you have killed our king," she added. "So you must take his place. You must be our protector."

Castiel stared at them, annoyed and irritated. He couldn't kill all twelve of them, not without more ammunition. He needed to try to bargain with them. Queen Raja was right, too: humans could not come into possession of the Tree of Life. Still, Castiel refused to remain here to protect it.

"You do not have to stay here," said Queen Raja, seeming to read Castiel's mind. "You have maintained your wings, even despite the Fall."

Castiel didn't bother to correct her. "Even without your bullets, we cannot afford the casualties of your blades and knives if we continue to fight," continued Queen Raja. "You want to leave from this place, and we need a protector. So this is the deal I propose. We do not like angels, however I think you will agree that you are the lesser of two evils. Therefore, agree to allow us to pray to you if we need aid, and agree that you will answer. Join hands with me and say a prayer of merging, and you may part from us with the fruit and your lives."

Ember narrowed her eyes at him, taking his hand. "I don't care what prayer they want to say, say it and let's get the damn fruit."

Castiel sighed. Despite the elevation of Ember's powers caused by Lucifer being up and around, she still wasn't as powerful as she had been when she'd been pregnant with Jack. He could read her thoughts, but she could no longer receive his. Therefore, he would have to chance saying them allowed. "Their magic will bind this agreement," he hissed at her.

"Too right it will," said the djinn woman. "Raise your hands."

Castiel looked toward Ember for confirmation, and she nodded. He raised his hands into the air. "With this merge, you will take on the duties of protecting our tribe and the Tree of Life to the best of your ability should we pray for your help, or you will burn by the magic of the djinn." She stared at him expectantly.

"I… do?" he said, unsure.

"I do," the queen said, and she touched Castiel's hand. There was a loud POOF sound in the air, and for a second everything seemed to glow blue. "We are now married," said the queen. "You may go on your way, so long as you come to our aid immediately if there is an issue." Queen Raja held out a bag of fruit from the Tree of Life.

"Wha-married?" Castiel asked, looking alarmed at Ember.

"Come on!" she protested, grabbing the fruit and then grabbing Castiel's hand.

A second later, they reappeared at the bunker.