Chapter 13: McCartney and Wings

When the Winchesters entered the thirty-seventh floor it was evident that R had heard from Cas. The normally moderately quiet entry was bustling with agents hurriedly walking to and from various rooms. It was clear that most of them were anxious about the word that heaven was actively rooting for hell to break loose and try to end the world given the panicked expressions and blank stares most of them had. Janet looked up from her typing as the two men exited the elevator.

"I'm sure you could guess this but R wants to speak with you." She stated, glancing around at the people rushing past. "I hope you boys can stop this. We've been around for quite a while and it's never been this bad before."

"You guys have only been a little over a decade, I doubt anything close to this bad could've happened in that short a time." Dean remarked.

Janet raised an eyebrow, before she chuckled slightly, "I keep forgetting you're new. It really doesn't matter, but no, we've been around a lot longer than that."

"Wait, I thought we were part of the CIA? They've only been around since Truman was in office." Sam raised an eyebrow.

She exhaled, "While I'd love to give the full history of our illustrious agency I believe you have somewhere to go." She motioned toward the hall that led to R's office, "Good luck."

The office was the same as it had always been, but R was not. Granted, he was still the same 6'10, 300-plus pound man with steel blue eyes, jet black hair and almost too-pale skin… But his demeanor was completely opposite its normal state. R was normally a relatively bright man, while not jovial, per say, he was the kind of person that being around generally made others feel good. Today was quite the opposite, instead of feeling glad to be in his presence Sam and Dean were almost frightened. His shirt-collar was unbuttoned and his tie loosened as he sat with his fingers steepled and his glare fixed on his desk. His breathing was steady, but it was clear it was only due to a great deal of effort on his part. He was angry. He was thinking. And by God was he intimidating.

Cas was standing off to the side. While the angel wasn't known for his ability to read or convey emotions readily it would be difficult for even him to miss the rage seething off the man in the plaid sport-coat behind the mahogany desk. "Hello Sam, Dean." He nodded curtly as the brothers entered the office.

"Hi Cas." Dean nodded as he tried to stay out of the direct line of sight of his superior.

"Please sit down. Forgive me for my appearance, but given recent news I am not at liberty to worry about such trivial things." R gestured to the men to sit in front of his desk. "I want to thank you for informing me of this and say that I am appalled that Rafael has so readily turned his back on humanity. It is obvious something must be done to stop his plan."

Sam and Dean nodded.

"Castiel is the only angel we've worked with who is currently earth-bound. All our other allies are stuck in heaven until the pearly gates reopen." R exhaled, smoke curling from his nostrils as he tapped his cigarette into a dish on his desk. "We are aware of other angels present on earth. As far as we can tell there are at minimum sixteen others, and at most thirty. It appears as though those locked out of heaven have had a slight limitation to their powers."

Castiel blinked, he didn't feel any different…

"We know this courtesy of a handful of satellites we have launched along with some of our sister agencies. Angels are pure energy, and as such we can detect their signatures, just like any other thermal source courtesy of heat-mapping. They're still beacons on our maps, but they're a fair bit dimmer than normal. With heaven sealed tight the ability to cross long distances in the blink of an eye has essentially disappeared. Angels can still fly, obviously, but it is almost like the signal has been partially jammed-flight over the oceans is essentially gone aside from island hopping. As a result, the angels left are land-locked wherever they were when the gates shut."

R paused as he looked at the brothers and angel, "That's where you three come in. We know there are four angels in North America; the Canucks gave us the okay to do as we please, so you'll be starting there. The closest one is in Ontario. Meet the angel and convince them to help us."

Dean was nearly speechless, "So, let me make sure I heard you right, we're going to go track down an angel and try and convince it to turn against heaven and help us stop the apocalypse?"

"Yes." R responded.

"The same angels who believe Cas is heaven's public enemy number one, carry incorporeal swords specifically designed to kill anything they can slice, and who aren't known to think very highly of humans intervening in what they think is right?" Sam continued.

"Yes." R reiterated.

"Not to dismiss your leadership abilities, but this does seem somewhat dubious… My brethren are not easily swayed from their ideals." Cas added.

"Do any of you have a better idea?" He grumbled, the stoniness of his face shifting to aim at them instead of his varnished desktop. "We've considered other options but the board refused anything else."

There was a several moment pause as the other three tried to think of something plausible. "Fuck it. It's either die by an angel or when the apocalypse comes around." Dean responded.

"Language aside, I agree." R nodded as he stood up, "Under no circumstances engage the angel in combat, if they are not willing to join us, depart. We do not need any more enemies than we already have."

"So, where in Ontario is this guy?" Sam asked as he pulled the pencil from his shirt-pocket to start planning the route.

"McCarthy, about twenty minutes outside Calstock. Pack your long-johns because it's cold up there." R concluded as he ushered the three out of his office and into the hall.

**SPN**

North Bay was a modestly sized town. With around twenty-thousand the location was far from a metropolis, but still quite a bit larger than most of the places the hunts had taken the brothers over the years. After pulling into the parking lot of the Maple Leaf Motel-who knew Canadians were patriotic?-and entering their room with bedspreads emblazoned with the country's signature red flag, with the royal union and coat of arms in opposite corners, Sam decided to head out to get some provisions for the next day. Given how there were considerably fewer grocery stores and diners in Northern Ontario it was a necessity. Dean opted to stay back at the motel with Cas.

"Alright, anything else?" The taller brother asked as he stood by the door checking the list one final time.

"No, I think that's everything. And for God's sakes don't let the door open, I'm freezing my ass off as it is." Dean rubbed upper arms as he tried to warm up.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean it's not that cold."

"It's negative five!" Dean gestured to the thermometer hanging on the wall just outside the door.

"Yes, which is 23 Fahrenheit." Sam grinned, "I guess all that time in the tropics during the war softened you up. I'll be back in a bit."

"No, but it did give me a break from you always bitching about weather over seventy." Dean replied as Sam rolled his eyes and waved. Dean returned the wave through the window and watched as the Impala pulled out of the parking lot. After a few moments he walked over to the curtains and drew them shut, revealing yet another Canadian flag.

"So… now that we're alone…" Dean raised an eyebrow at Cas and waggled his ears. The angel nearly smirked. While he had been with Dean for a while it never ceased to amaze him at how equally juvenile and charming the man could be when he wanted.

"If you intend to proposition me like that I may have to say no." The angel retorted snidely, pretending to be more interested in the newspaper than his partner.

Dean feigned offense, "Well, if you don't want me I guess I'll just have to take care of myself…" He turned away coyly and undid his belt, allowing his pants to descend slightly and reveal the waistband of his underwear.

Cas stood up and neared Dean, "I suppose I might let it slide this once…" An embrace ensued which was closely followed by removal of attire. Hands and bodies intertwined as they began to caress. The pair stumbled over to the bed, Dean tossing off his socks as Cas removed his undershirt before the two slid into the bed together.

**SPN**

The human voice has an average speaking volume of around 60 decibels. The sounds emanating from the room when Sam opened the door to get his forgotten checkbook were 73 decibels. The sound Sam made as he reacted to what he saw was nearly 90. The sound of Dean and Cas reacting to Sam discovering them mid-coitus was 98 decibels.

Sam quickly turned to face the door, but seemingly froze in place, unable to leave the room as he's intended to. Did I just see that? There's no way… I mean Dean, I know Dean. He's never… Sam tried to avoid thinking too much about it. You need to say something. Dean's your brother. Open your fucking mouth and say something!

Dean and Cas had separated and were on opposite sides of the bed, the blanket providing a bit of modesty in the otherwise immodest situation. Dean was nearly shaking as he looked at his brother's shoulders. "Sammy… I… I…" Dean hesitated, "I was going to tell you."

"You were going to tell me what?" Sam shook his head, still facing away from the two. "That you were having sex with one of our friends?" Sam turned around, his face visibly contorted, "So you've been secretly sleeping with him for the last five years and you didn't think of telling me?"

"It has actually only been two years." Cas responded, looking down at the comforter as he felt the texture of the bedspread between his thumb and forefinger.

"What was I going to say? 'Sammy I know you look up to me, but guess what, I'm secretly a puff?!'" Dean spat, angry with himself.

Sam sighed, seeing that Dean was quickly descending into one of the pits he made for himself when he had seemingly failed as a brother, "I don't fucking care that it's a guy, I care that it's Cas." Sam stated, "I'm not angry at you being with a guy. I'm angry you didn't tell me that you were with Cas! I know that's rich coming from the guy who kept a secret from you for over a decade, but seriously, can we just be honest with each other?"

Dean looked up from the red cotton, "You seriously don't care that I'm a-"

"No, I don't." Sam cut him off. "You're my brother. We grew up in tiny rented rooms together hopping all over the country for hunts. Do you really think I didn't stumble onto some of those drawings you did?" Sam raised an eyebrow to indicate the incredulity that Dean believed he'd never found some of his old nude sketches, "I mean, hell, you weren't exactly subtle about it sometimes…" He paused, "I know we fight sometimes, but you're damn near the only family I have left. Let's just be honest with each other from now on, okay?"

"Thanks Sammy." Dean smiled, "I'd hug you right now, but, well…" Dean glanced down at a conspicuous lump in the middle of the bed.

"Yeah. I'm getting the checkbook. When I get back you're explaining yourselves." Sam grabbed the leather envelope off the bedside table.

"Thanks." Dean said as Sam opened the door.

"You're welcome." Sam replied, "But seriously, next time wait more than five minutes after I leave."