Sam was still alone in the hotel room, haphazardly browsing the internet for a new case, when the familiar sound of wings made him look up. He wasn't sure who it could be. Gabriel had said he was going back to Heaven and Castiel had been with Dean and was unlikely to pop in because why . It was Dean he shared that profound bond with, and he came when Dean called, not him.

So when he heard the wings, he spent a split second wondering if he was about to die before he looked up and saw that it was Castiel. Sam was shocked, and he couldn't decide if he was more shocked than he would have been if it had been Gabriel returning. At least he could reason out an excuse for Gabriel to be here, but Castiel?

The angel didn't look any different, but he was holding an object that confused Sam. "Uh, hey Cas," he said. "I thought you were with Dean?" If he hadn't known that Castiel had been with Dean, then what he would have asked would have been more along the lines of 'Dean's not here, can I help you?' Or something.

"I was," Castiel replied. "But Dean has little to do with why I'm here." And oh, did that sound ominous, Sam thought.

"Okay…" Sam said, not sure why else Castiel would come here. He'd been clear right from the start that Dean was his priority, when anyone was a priority, and more or less only put up with Sam because the Winchesters were a package deal, or at least, had been, until Lilith. Although, things had been infinitely better since Sam had bore his soul to a dying Dean. Still, that didn't have anything to do with Castiel either. "So, what's up?"

"The ceiling?" Castiel tilted his head. "I'm sorry, am I missing a- colloquialism, I believe you called it?"

Sam blinked. Castiel had always seemed so confused by the way they said and phrased things, especially Dean's jokes, but never once had he asked for clarification so eloquently. "It's just a way of asking about someone's well being or inquiring as to why they're somewhere. I was using it to informally ask you why you're here because it was not what I was expecting." He swallowed. "Not that I'm not happy to see you it's just…" Sam stopped, realizing he was rambling on about nothing.

"That you have come to predict my arrival as being related to Dean and not with yourself," Castiel finished for him. "Part of why I am here is to rectify that, and to apologize."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "But… You have the "profound bond" with Dean, not with myself, so why do you care? I don't mind, I get it, I do." He was insignificant, irrelevant, useless. It was shocking that Gabriel wanted anything to do with him, let alone have some kind of mate bond with him, so why should someone as bound to their cause as Castiel have any interest in him?

"I have explained some about angelic courting rituals, and I'm sure that Gabriel has mentioned others, I know he was here earlier, but it would take a very long time to explain all of them at once. But as much as I am here because of one of them, I'm here for another reason as well." Castiel took an unnecessary breath. "I came to apologize, honestly, for how I addressed you when we first met, and for how I treated you. It was out of line."

"I forgave you a long time ago," Sam said. "I deserved it." He shook his head. "Demon blood… what the fuck was I thinking?"

"You were manipulated by both heaven and hell. You are not to blame."

Sam scratched at his wrist. He didn't believe Castiel, but this wasn't the fight he wanted to pick. "You mentioned being here because of a courting ritual. If you're apologizing because you feel obligated, don't."

Castiel shook his head. "I'm apologizing because I was out of line, and I know that. I'm sorry, Sam. Your soul is beautiful. Dean is lucky to have you as a brother and Gabriel is lucky to have found you."

"Thanks, I guess." Sam said.

Castiel held up the item he was holding, which appeared to be a pillow, and stepped towards the bed where Sam was lying. "I would like to explain one of our mating traditions." He held out the pillow like he wanted Sam to take it, so Sam did. It was the softest pillow Sam had ever touched. "Angels, and especially archangels, are immortal wavelengths of celestial intent. We share a creator, but we're not siblings in the way that the word implies. We don't have genetics and we weren't all raised together. But we do have small "flocks", which is not the least of our similarities with birds. Flocks don't always merge when a mate bond forms between two members of different flocks, but sometimes they do, and other times, the mated pair starts a new flock."

"This is a pillow."

"It is a pillow filled with down from my last molt. You haven't seen our wings yet, but like birds, we have feathers and molts. And nests, which is where the pillow comes in. One of the traditions involves introducing the intended mate to all of one's flock. For our purposes, your flock is you and Dean. While this may not apply in the reverse, at some point you will likely be properly introduced to all of our flock."

"The archangels," Sam whispered. "You and the archangels."

"It turns out that a long time ago, someone wiped my memory of being an archangel, and there are seven of us, but yes, that is the flock I'm referring to."

"Seven?"

"Michael is the eldest. He has a mate bond with Lucifer, whose real name is Heylel. Heylel's twin is Samael, who is mated to Raphael's twin, Aziraphale. They were next. Gabriel was sixth, followed by me. But I came way later, after most of the ranks of angels had already been created."

"That really explains why you gave me a pillow."

"This is not anything you will need to reciprocate, but my kind nests in soft blankets and pillows. By giving you this pillow made with my down feathers, I am contributing to your nest and furthering flock bonds. Will you accept this gift?"

Sam nodded, examining the pillow again. "Thank you," he said. "It's a handsome gift."

"You're welcome. Enjoy." A moment later, and the sound of wingbeats emphasised Castiel's exit.

"Huh." Sam examined the pillow. It was soft and exactly the thickness that he preferred in a pillow. Closing his laptop and moving it aside, he put the pillow at the head of the bed and leaned back. It was perfect .

Sam Winchester was asleep in moments. And for the first time in years, his sleep was peaceful.

The nest was not the calm and collected space Castiel expected it to be when he returned. Not only were several of the others missing, but Gabriel and Heylel were talking amongst themselves quickly, using a form of Enochian that he only knew through instinct and the barest whispers of memory from his time with them before Heylel's imprisonment. Samandriel was held closely in Gabriel's arms, both of the archangels carefully shifting the sleeping fledgling's feathers as they talked.

"Castiel, come talk with us." Gabriel offered, waving him close. "There's a mystery on our hands, and we need to solve it."

Frowning in confusion, but unable to find any reason not to join them, Castiel climbed into the nest, careful not to make enough noise to wake Samandriel. "What mystery?" He questioned, voice quiet.

Heylel sighed, shaking his head softly. "I don't know if you would know, but something has happened to Raphael in the time when we were all gone from him. Something that left him almost incapable of discussing certain topics, even when confined to mere biological possibilities, and not as an action to be put into practice. It's entirely possible that whatever may have happened to him happened while you would have been too young to be able to remember it, but any theories you can come up with would be appreciated."

That didn't make much sense. What could Heylel be talking about? Michael had been away for quite some time, it was true, but there had never been a time where Raphael had been away from the host, not that Castiel could recall.

But there had been one moment, something buried deep within his memory, hidden the same as his true self had been. A time when something had been different, and the memory was rising to the surface quickly.

"There is only one point in time when one could say that Raphael was….. Different, if you wish to call it that," he began, trying to remember what all had happened back then. "I was young, barely old enough to be tasked with running messages across heaven for the various leaders of units, as most around Samandriel's age were tasked to do. Michael had been missing for several years at that point, receiving revelation from Father, we were told. And with the rest of the archangels missing and presumed dead, that left Raphael to handle any possible situations that would arise."

"There was another though, one that Raphael had been close to, that he shared much of his time with, when he wasn't training the newest healers. So much time, there were rumors that there would be a mateship to come of it, but they were nothing more than rumors."

He paused then, trying to gather his thoughts, when Heylel spoke. "But something happened."

Castiel nodded. "No one knows what, but one day they went off on their own, to wherever they would spend time alone. And…." He trailed off, unsure as to how to carry on.

Gabriel lifted a hand then, reaching out to place the hand on Castiel's shoulder. "What happened?"

Castiel sighed, shaking his head. "Raphael returned nearly three hours later, alone. And something had happened, something bad enough to have him in tears, and shaken." The look on his brother's face, though it was so long ago when it had happened, was still burned into his mind, as clear as it had been all those years ago. "He, he said that they had been attacked, and that the attacker had killed the one he was with. But…"

Heylel shifted then, moving to embrace Castiel, which he took comfort from as he continued. "A close flockmate and I snuck away, determined to bring back Raphael's companion for a proper send off, so they would not be left to rot, forgotten by everyone. But when we found where they had been killed, we did not find the scene of a battle. The only sign of struggle was small, and confined solely to within three feet of his body."

Heylel sighed then, tightening his grip on Castiel. "They did something to Raphael. And I think we can all figure out what it was."

Castiel nodded. "I understand that now. But we were so young, we didn't understand the signs, and were quickly made to forget what we had seen."

Sam was still sound asleep when Dean returned, opening the door. He wasn't loud about it, and as he stepped through the threshold, the first thing he noticed was Sam conked out on the bed. "Sam?"

Sam bolted upright. "Hey, Dean, everything alright?"

Dean blinked. "Yeah, everything's fine. Have you found our next hunt yet?"

"Not yet. Uh, Castiel stopped by. He brought me a pillow. And then I took a really nice nap… What time is it anyway?"

"I think it's a little after eight. Did you eat dinner?"

"No…. It can't be! You're sure it's after eight? I think Cas arrived a little before noon."

Dean blinked. "You took an eight hour nap?" He gave Sam a worried look. "Have you eaten anything?"

"Not since breakfast, no. Gabriel dropped by before Cas did, we had a really nice chat."

Dean held up the takeout bag in his hand. "Do you want this salad and hamburger I picked up for you earlier?" He set it down on the table.

Sam shrugged and joined his brother at the table. "Sure. I must have just been real tired."

"Sure…." Dean trailed off, watching Sam as he dug through the bag. "I guess you didn't look for any new hunts then."

Sam shook his head as he pulled out the salad. "Not in depth, but I did look through a little bit, and it was all quiet. Nothing to be seen from any of the usual sources, or even any of the less common ones. And then Cas showed up, and I guess I just took a nap for a while."

Dean looked at his brother, taking the time to really take in all the details, how tired he looked at all times. It almost looked like Sam had lost weight, but it had been so long since he was actively aware of his brother's health, that it was hard to tell. Not wanting to stress Sam, Dean shook away the thoughts, looking at Sam pointedly. "Eat. You need it."

Sam looked at him strange, but rolled his eyes as he started to eat. "I hope you had something to eat too."

Pausing for a moment, Dean took a breath. He wanted to tell Sam, but how?

"Yeah, me and Cas grabbed something to eat before I came back. He said he had something to do back upstairs, but he would be back soon." It was as close to a confession as he would be able to get, but would Sam take it for what it was?

But Sam just nodded, taking another bite of his salad. "Well, at least you guys got to do something before he left."

Dean wasn't sure what to say to that. It was true, but it wasn't what he'd been hoping Sam would get out of what he'd said. He really did want to tell Sam about what was between him and Cas, but he couldn't just come out and say it because nothing was ever that easy. So he dropped it. "You said Gabe stopped by too? How did that go?"

"I think it went well," Sam said. "He mentioned the apocalypse is over, for real. He and his brothers are getting along well, I guess. Did Cas tell you Raphael didn't really kill him? Or at least, that's what Gabe said. Something about God not being the good guy."

"Cas mentioned that, right before he mentioned he's also an archangel but he didn't remember that until someone named Aziraphale made him remember. Didn't He throw his favorite son into Hell? And abandon all his children? Doesn't sound like a very nice guy to me."

Sam put his fork down and Dean wondered if he really should have said that out loud. But they still hadn't talked about how they felt about the other archangels. And he didn't even know who this Aziraphale was.

"Cas said there's seven archangels, and he named the the other six for me," Sam said. He picked up the fork and poked at the salad some more. He didn't really have much of an appetite, but Dean was still staring at him and would probably scold him if he stopped eating.

"Do we know who the two we haven't met are?" Dean asked.

"I haven't met Raphael," Sam reminded him, chewing on another bite of salad. "But I'm going to assume it's his twin and Lucifer's twin."

"They both have twins?"

"Uh-huh. Also, Lucifer isn't really his name and Cas didn't say as much, but I'm pretty sure we're supposed to call him by the other one if he prefers it. But this is interesting. So, his real name is Heylel, and Cas called his twin Samael, and I think that's interesting because that means all the human sources got it wrong, because most of the time in lore, they're both used as alternative names for Lucifer. And Aziraphale is Raphael's twin."

"How come we never heard about either of them when the apocalypse is going down?"

"Uh…. so you know how there was a prophet writing about us? I think there was a different prophet writing about them too."

"What makes you say that?" Dean asked.

Sam finished his salad and unwrapped the sandwich Dean had brought for him. "The only hit I got researching the name Aziraphale was for a book written in 1990 about an angel named Aziraphale and a demon named Crawly."

"Crowley? Fuck."

"Not that Crowley. This one's a fallen angel who can't remember his angelic name. Aziraphale couldn't remember it either, but you know, I bet if all of them are chilling in Heaven, they might have remembered what it was by now. In the beginning of Good Omens, he gives an apple to Eve, which is a feat often attributed to Lucifer. But Cas called him Samael, and I think that all makes sense."

"Have you read this book?"

"I read it in college. It's really good, but I think I liked it better when I thought it was fantasy. Although, Cas said they're bonded and they are perfect for each other, so I guess it could be worse."

"Was there anything else?"

Sam shrugged and yawned. He decided he didn't want to eat the hamburger after all. "I think Gabriel and I are dating. Are you ready for bed? I'm really tired."

Under other circumstances, Dean might have thought that Sam was trying to avoid the question with redirection. But looking at his little brother, he could see that Sam really was completely exhausted. Which was really odd, because they'd been sleeping minimally for a decade with no ill effects. But he let it go. "Yeah, I could sleep. Are you going to eat that hamburger?"

"Not hungry." Sam stood up, and headed back for his bed and the tantalizing pillow Cas had brought for him.

Dean watched for a moment, worried about why Sam would need so much sleep, but then decided he might as well follow suit. He could worry about it after a full night of sleep.

If Crowley had really wanted to, he could have just snapped the room clean, and if it had been any other room, he would have done just that. But even if he didn't really know what was going on with Raphael, he did know that his little brother had put in a lot of effort with the warding of the small room and making it perfect for Michael and Heylel. So he collected the mangled feathers and scrubbed the blood off the floor by hand.

It gave him time to think without the pressure of the other archangels around. The change in development wasn't going to affect his mate bond with Azi, he hoped, but being home, in Heaven, was still not the outcome he'd expected. He wasn't sure what he had expected. But it wasn't this.

At the same time though, he was glad to be home. Now that he could remember, he missed his flock. That's what they'd always been. Even before God had cast them out. And now he was home.

Crowley scrubbed harder. This was to be Mikha and Heylel's room, and they deserved it. The menial task was supposed to keep him from thinking to hard about why Raphael had been in such a state.

He finished up and headed back to the family nest, hoping that maybe some of the other archangels would be in there and he wouldn't have to be all alone.

"It's okay, Cas," his twin was whispering when he opened the door and poked his head inside.

Gabriel, Heylel, and Castiel were lying together in the nest, the small fledgling tucked between them and they had been speaking in the oldest form of Enochian, something Crowley hadn't heard or spoken since getting cast out. He didn't blame Heylel for that though, they'd been children seeking knowledge.

"Is there room for one more?" he asked quietly. He used their Old Enochian, guessing they hadn't wanted to awaken the fledgling or be overheard.

"Come join us!" Gabriel exclaimed. "We were just talking about Rafa'el. Have you noticed anything off about him?"

"Mikha and I found him in a weird state, but Mikha took him to take a bath. He was tearing feathers out of his wings."

The other three archangels all winced, wings twinging in sympathy.

"Do you have any ideas what might have happened in there?" Crowley asked. "I can't remember Rafa'el ever looking so disheveled."

"It's my fault," Heylel said, sounding guilty. "I asked him for some information he wasn't ready to talk about yet. We're pretty sure that at some point while Mikha was taking a long nap, he was sexually assaulted."

Crowley laid down, blinking at them. Who the fuck would sexually assault an archangel. He was going to fucking smite them. No one touched his baby brothers.

"They're dead," Castiel added, reading the expression on Crowley's face. Or perhaps the anger in Crowley's grace.

"Okay." Crowley drew out the second syllable as he considered this new level of information. Raphael might have acted the way that he had because Heylel had triggered a panic attack. But what could they do to help Raphael now? What was Azi always telling him? Being supportive and building a support network. They were a flock and they were all home. But what if Raphael was mad they all knew, because he hadn't been the one to tell them?

Before Crowley could phrase his newest train of thought into a question for the others, the door slammed open and his mate was bursting in, headed straight for the fledgling. None of them could get any words in edgewise before Aziraphale was climbing all over the top of them, and pulling at the now awake and whining Samandriel.

Even demons knew better than to wake a sleeping baby. Usually.

As his mate, Crowley could feel Aziraphale's grace the best, and he watched in confusion as the other archangel reached for Samandriel's core. Gabriel, sensitive to the fledglings discomfort was standing, but Crowley stopped him with a shake of his head. Azi wasn't going to hurt their fledgling, even if he couldn't quite tell what he was doing.

And then, they all felt the suddenly overwhelming impression of Raphael's grace emitting from the fledgling and they all had their answer.

Michael washed Raphael's wings as carefully as he could. After crying himself out, the healer's mindset appeared to have shifted back to normal, but that didn't mean he was going to leave him alone. The extensive damage to Raphael's wings needed careful treatment, and he was going to do just that. He didn't stop there though. One of the products in the cabinet was designed to ease the discomfort in fledglings brought on by their molts, so he decided he'd use that on the entirety of Raphael's wings. Even if that meant using all of the product. Which he probably would.

"Mikha, I am not a fledgling," Raphael said for at least the tenth time. "Why are you treating me like one?"

"I know you're not a fledgling. But I also can't remember the last time I actually got to give any of you a bath, so I am going to take pleasure in doing this. Besides, do you even use this product on Samandriel? It's going to waste."

"Samandriel does not molt. I use other bath products to keep his wings healthy."

"See? No waste here." To emphasize his point, he poured another glop into a hand and continued scrubbing Raphael's wings.

Raphael huffed, but he didn't keep arguing, and Michael could tell that it was more for show than anything else. His little brother was enjoying himself. Good. He deserved it.

The rest of the bath didn't take very long, but drying out wings always took a long time. It was part of why most fledglings really hated getting their wings wet.

Michael tried to dry Raphael's wings with a towel, but Raphael was shivering and shaking his wings such that it was making it impossible to do much more than duck out of the way of a wayward limb. "You're doing this on purpose!" Raphael hid a laugh, but Michael saw the repressed giggle all over his face. And it was nice. When was the last time he'd seen his little brother laugh? Raphael had always been the most sedate of them, but had any of them laughed since the negotiation for peace had gone well? They were all happy, but they were also tensed and pretending they weren't all terrified for whatever the Creator tried next. They all knew he was going to try something else, because there was no way he was going to just let them live peacefully after everything he'd done to separate them and keep them apart.

The eldest shook his head, letting Raphael's wing thump him heavily on the back. "Hey! What was that for!"

Raphael smiled. "You're worrying. The world isn't going to end in the next five minutes, so just, relax!"

Michael rolled his eyes, but Raphael was waving his wings and that was drying out his wings faster than the towel was.

"Congratulations, it's a boy."

Michael heard it from the bond, but it wasn't Lucifer speaking. It sounded like Gabriel joking, but he recognized that wry tone. It was Gabriel's attempt at using humor to hide his real feelings, which were probably stress, worry, and terror, at this particular moment.

He was about to prod Lucifer asking what Gabriel was going on about, but he didn't have to. A moment later, he and Raphael both felt it.

It wasn't specifically Raphael's grace. More like an echo. But it was strong and before Michael could say anything, Raphael was chasing it.

They followed it back to the family nest and Michael stood in the doorway and Raphael plowed forward, plucking the wailing fledgling from Aziraphale's arms and holding safely and securely in his arms. "It's okay, Sami," Raphael was whispering, soothingly. "It's okay."

"Rafa!" the fledgling cried, clinging to Raphael as tight as he could. "No nap, no nap!"

"You're ok Sami, you just got spooked," Raphael soothed, rubbing Samandriel's back softly as he began crying as well.

As the pair continued, Michael turned on the others, looking them all down. "Explain, now."

They all looked at each other, before Lucifer sighed, explaining everything through the bond. And as he learned more and more of the story, Michael felt sick. Everything had happened because he had fought the Creator, and refused to tell Him where Gabriel was. But if he hadn't fought against it, it was likely that none of them would have lived to be able to reach the point of the apocalypse, and having them all back in heaven once more absolutely never would have happened.

Seeing that Samandriel was calming down, Michael moved to kneel next to Raphael, carefully reaching out to gain the fledgling's attention. "Sami, do you know who your parents are?"

The fledgling sniffled, looking at Michael with large, wet eyes, as he snuggled into Raphael. "Don't matter, I gots Rafa," he mumbled, shifting to start sucking on his thumb as his eyes started drifting shut.

With a deep breath, Michael nodded, leaning to press a gentle kiss to the top of the fledgling's head. "That's right. You have Raphael, and the rest of us as well. Sleep, we will all be here when you wake."

Watching as Samandriel slowly fell back to sleep, Michael spread his wings, drawing all of his brothers close to him. After the shocks of the day, they all needed to stay together, to comfort each other, and to calm down from all the stress. None of them were tired, save for Raphael after the stress, but as the healer slowly fell asleep as well, the other archangels were all in agreement.

They wouldn't ever leave him alone again.

Raphael wouldn't heal instantly, but his siblings understood the gist of what had happened, and they wanted nothing more than to help him be okay. And for the most part, having them and Samandriel was good enough. The past hurt, but after 5000 years, maybe there had been enough time to heal, to be able to move forward. His feathers grew back and his molt ended and he was a lot happier about everything.

Lucifer started his molt during the tail end of Raphael's molt, which was a good thing because after being in the cage for most of 6000 years and not molting, he was a little behind and his feathers showed it.

Gabriel was stressed out. He'd seen plenty of victims during his time a trickster, but this was a lot different and way closer to home than he'd ever expected it to get and he didn't really know what to do.

HIs siblings weren't buying the wry humor he used as a defence mechanism and he appreciated their concern, but it wasn't helping . "You all have to meet the guy I like!" he exclaimed finally when they were all in the big nest. "But maybe not all at once, or right now."

The nest was thrown into chaos as they all tried to comprehend what was just said, but it was not anything they wouldn't be able to move away from. All was well within their home, and within their lives. Nothing would be able to cause them to drift apart.

But all was not well for every angel, nor even for every young angel.

For there was one other that had escaped the notice of all, save for one who had stolen them away from their rightful place. And as all the archangels were ready to sleep, the one who was stolen away was wide awake, trapped within a life of fear.

Tapping. Endless, continual tapping, with no point to it, and no sense to be made. There was little he feared more than the moments when the tapping stopped, because the moment it did, the anger and the shouting and the hurting would start again, and he wouldn't be able to do anything but crawl in a corner and cry.

There was a sound, one that came up in the shouts, one that he couldn't understand. It was like it was something that he was supposed to be called, but why would he even try and respond, when something told him that it wasn't what he was supposed to be called?

The tapping was slowing. Things on the table were clinking, the way the big cups did when they would bump into each other. He needed to go, to find somewhere to hide. He had learned well enough that when the tapping slowed, and the clinks started, things were going to get loud, and scary, and he would need to hide.

But moving through the house wasn't easy for him, not like it was for the one who shouted. He couldn't hold himself up, or take steps like the other, or even crawl fast. If he needed to hide, he needed to start moving, and quick.

So he started moving, trying to go to the dark where he was safe, to the small room with the soft cloth, or under the squeaky bed in the other's room, back into the corner where no one would be able to find him and hurt him.

It wasn't that often he was able to hide there, when he could be safe, because he was too slow, too small, too dumb to go where he needs to.

And as a crash sounded from the food room, and the tapping stopped entirely, his breathing quickened as tears began to fill his eyes. It was starting again, and he was in danger. He was too slow, and he would pay the price for his mistake.

The other was shouting now, but he wasn't using the sound that demanded a response yet, but he still needed to move, to leave, to hide somewhere, and not make a sound.

But the door to the other's room was closed. He wouldn't ever be able to get it open, he was just too small, and the door too big. The door to the small room was open though, and he hurried to hide in there, to crawl under the soft, warm cloths that hid him so well.

As soon as he entered the small room though, another crash sounded off, with the other screaming the sound that demanded response. The one that meant hurt was coming.

He quickly crawled to the back of the room, pulling the cloths over himself, and pulling one of the smaller cloths close and chewing on it to try and keep calm and keep the other from hearing him.

There were thuds coming closer, the shouting getting louder and louder, until the other was screaming from the door to the small room, and he was shaking as tears started covering his face.

"Fine! You can stay in there for all I care!"

The other shouted, before slamming the door closed, the loud sound of the locks closing echoing through the room.

He wanted out. He wanted to be free. He wanted no more pain. But he couldn't ever have what he wanted.

He didn't deserve it. And he never would.