The two Winchesters and their Guardian were brought to a stand still when He appeared with four others, introducing them as His archangels, frowning when the older hunter spit out acknowledgement to the fact and they shuffled where they stood in shame. It would be a matter that was brought to the front later one, they had more pressing matters to be dealt with at the present moment, but He swore that He would return to this.

"Mikael is much too strong for even Me to take him on My own." He gestured to the four Archangels "Which is why I had asked them to join us."

Gabriel shuffled, muttering under his breath, the hunters couldn't make out what was said, but He clearly had, as well as the three elder Archangels, because they all turned to look at him with surprise. If he saw their glance, he made no acknowledgement of it, and stared down at his scuffed shoe.

"So, this is what we got; an archangel, an archangel turned pagan, a traitor, and Satan himself." Dean Winchester scoffed softly "Quite the assortment we have here, fellas."

"Not quite, I have asked a few others to join us, if we have the Commanders, we should have the Captains as well."

The four archangels looked at Him in surprise, and He nodded, even Gabriel looked up from staring at his shoe at the mention of the Captains. His Captain. He hadn't see him since, he flinched to himself as he thought of that time, since he'd abandoned him. Barely out of younglinghood, the youngest Captain to ever be named, and he'd left him without notice in the onset of a harsh ruthless war, with no instruction and no goodbye, leaving him to wake up missing his Commander and a Flock to run. He cringed at the thought of seeing him again, their last meeting hadn't ended on a nice note, having walked in on him hiding his horn away, and there was only reason he would be hiding his horn.

Zaveriel had called him a coward.

And he'd been gone by the next morning.

The four Captains of the Four archangels appeared to the side of their archangel, at a wave of His hand, and they finally took in each other for the first time since healing had begun. The humans, their angel, even He Himself, were pushed to the back of their thoughts as they stared right back into the eyes of the ones who would trust them to the ends of the earth, who would willing lay down their lives for them, and they had used that loyalty to dark advantage and turned them against their own family.

Michael broke away first, stepping to his Captain, both silent as the night, and he raised a single hand. The Power stood as still as a board, though he could see the unease that flashed before his gaze, and he pushed right passed it. Curling his fingers around the back of the tall angels neck, taller then the others, but in no competition on himself, pulling him forward to press their temples together.

"Nisroc, I owe you a thousand apologies, and then a thousand more."

"All is forgiven, Sir."

"Hardly, but I will work hard for it."

They shared a smile, his fingers tightening around his neck, and they stared into each other's eyes.

Raphael smiled down to his Captain, Oren looked nervous, but he returned the smile in kind. He caressed his cheek softly, his long nimble fingers brushing over his cheek and up behind his ear, "Hello, my little one."

"Commander."

"Now, now, none of that."

He rubbed a hand down the bridge of his nose and the Virtue smiled to himself, looking down to his boots when the hand was pulled away, and leaned to the left a slight bit more, brushing against his archangels side. A hand presses to the small of his back, as though the Archangel felt him rubbing against the archangels side, fingers curl around the back of his right hip, and he jumps forward slightly, enough that the archangel snorts softly, but not enough that they all witness it.

The short female, standing to the Morningstar's right, turned to look up at him silently. He turned to look down at her and smiled "Hey, Kokabiel." She smiled up at him, "Hey Luci." He tucked a strand of hair, one that snuck out of the tightly done ponytail, he had always been close to his Grigori and especially so after their fall one right after the other.

It was the one standing beside the Messenger that had them all snapping around, one attempt at greeting had been made, and the shorter angel pulled his arm back and punched him straight in the nose. The Messenger spin at the impact, hands flying up to curl over his now broken nose, and the youth shook his hand at his busted knuckles, glaring angrily at the Messenger.

"Don't you dare speak to me!"

The others stared at him in shock, the other Captains nodding in agreement from where they stood at their Commander's side, and the Archangels watched him in surprise. It was out of his character, to be so angered, and to attack at a moment's notice.

Both elders stepped to the side as the Healer stepped forward to examine the break, the young Captain at his side tightened his fists again, and a long nimble finger pointed at him in warning.

"I'll punch you too!"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me!"

The Healer turned to the side, snagging him by the ear, "Zaveriel, I understand your anger at the Messenger, and cannot fault you for your attack on him." Gabriel looked mildly offended "But you will never take such tone with me again, am I clear?"

Zaveriel glared at him, and the Healer raised a single eyebrow, and he finally backed down.

"Fine, but I won't follow his command."

"That is your choice, if not him, then you will follow mine." His ear is released, and the Healer gestured over his shoulder as he turned to attend to the Messenger "Go stand with Oren."