A/N: Very sorry about the delay. I haven't been in a great mindset for anything creative lately. My days have mostly been about surviving rather than thriving, but I've found a good groove again. This chapter has a bit of a steady pace, but it's got some really interesting stuff in it... Hope you guys enjoy. I really appreciate the favorites, follows, and reviews y'all give me. They really do help to encourage me to do better and they really touch my heart. Thanks for sticking with me, guys.


'There was never really much hope to begin with.'

That was what Bobby had said in an effort to dull the crushing weight of failure. The attempt was appreciated, but it did nothing to sooth the unanimous distraught shared between Sam, Dean, Cas, and the man himself.

That's when the drinks were distributed. Then more. Then each member of the routed group had a case of their own. All except for Cas, however, as he elected to fly off to the nearest liquor store and drain it of its entire stock before trashing the next one. That's how the days passed. Drunk for hours on end, drowning in booze until sleep claimed them and they awoke with piercing headaches. They dulled the pain with more beer and started all over again, going around in circles until time became an afterthought, coasting through their lament.

Dean lay on the couch, slumped over the armrest. A nearly empty bottle dangled precariously between loose fingers. His cheek pressed into the fabric of the couch, the rough seams creasing his skin and leaving behind identical marks in bright red shades. His eyes were set low, glued onto a stack of books. The last remaining handiwork of Frankie in the house. Dust had collected on top. With a heavy sigh through his nostrils, the dust stirred and shifted, billowing up into the dull, grey light of the rain-curtained sun.

Dean flicked the bottle into a firm grip and tossed it into the stack. The books toppled over, sprawling out across the carpet. The bottle rolled with a lingering chime as the last few sips sputtered onto the kitchen floor. Dean rolled over, lying on his back, and rubbed his face with both hands.

Sam stumbled into the study just in time to watch the bottle come to a stop against one of the table's legs. He looked at Dean, but said nothing. Same as when he glanced at Bobby. The man sat at his desk with his head propped up in his hands, his eyes still hopelessly studying newspapers and old scriptures. Sam knew the older man had no faith left in saving the planet, but if he didn't do something, he would surely put a bullet in his head.

He wandered into the kitchen, his world tilting slightly, and opened the fridge. He got out yet another bottle and took three gulps before even closing the door.

"And behold!"

Sam choked on his fourth gulp. He pulled the bottle away before it fully tilted back, spilling over his shirt. He didn't bother wiping his mouth when he stepped over to the threshold of the study to investigate the new voice that just bellowed in the next room.

"The triumphant, distinguished heroes of the planet."

Gabriel stood in the same flannel shirt and green jacket that he last appeared in. His dry smirk was even the same, and he tossed it around the room like an old pigskin.

"Oh, you look sad. What's got ya so down, huh? Could it be, I don't know," he shrugged, his smirk falling into an incensed glare, "choking at the homestretch?"

Dean dropped his hands to his side, his gaze set to the ceiling. "Oh, holy crap. Screw off, would you?"

"Why? At the rate you're going," Gabriel pointed to the bottle suspended in Sam's hand, "you'll hardly notice me. Besides, bucko, you're in no place to refuse ridicule since you wrecked the planet."

Bobby's head left his hands, and he let his arms fall onto the desktop. His lips quirked in a pestered grimace.

"You're right."

Gabriel turned his head toward Sam, leaning against the doorframe. His expression didn't change, but there was a glint of curiosity in his stare. "Excuse me?"

Sam nodded, nothing but grief in his gaze. "We deserve it. Go ahead."

Gabriel was still at first, assessing the younger Winchester's resignation, but he quickly recovered with a huff as he crossed his arms and stepped over to the desk. "My words can't do much worse than the damage you're already doing to your liver. But for old time's sake…" He leaned against the desk, locking eyes with Sam as his expression darkened. "I told ya so, you selfish pricks."

"Oh, is that the best you got?" Dean pushed off the couch. He zeroed in on Gabriel, stepping heavily toward the archangel. He spread out his arms tauntingly and spoke with a steely edge. "C'mon, we sat back and let the Apocalypse happen. You gotta have something better than that."

Gabriel tilted his head back and pursed his lips, appearing to think it over. He hummed and pushed off the desk. His brows lifted and he nodded, having come to a conclusion.

He swung his fist into an uppercut that struck Dean right in the chin. His feet left the ground for half a second, and he landed against a table of filing apparatuses, further littering the floor with old texts.

"Does that do it for ya?" Gabriel asked, cocking his head to the side.

Dean groaned as he slowly propped up to his elbows. He puffed out a few belly-deep pants before lifting to his knees. He wiped against a tickle on his brow and found blood staining his palm. He glared at Gabriel. "Feel better?"

"You don't wanna know what would make me feel better."

"Alright, you got your pound of flesh," Bobby grumbled. He sat back in his chair, eyeing the archangel with a vexed demeanor. "Doubt you came all this way just to tear us a new one."

Gabriel faced him with a challenged smirk. "You sure about that?" There was a slight change in Bobby's expression, one that hardened his features. The archangel dismissed the look with a lax shrug. "Well, you're right. I also came to make sure you're as miserable as you should be. Now that you've," he counted on his fingers, "screwed up the rightful order of fate, pissed off all the wrong people, and, oh yeah, put your sister in the hands of the Devil."

"Fuck you," Dean spat from the floor.

"No, no. Not fuck me. Fuck you." He turned to Bobby with a pointing finger. "And you. And your blue-eyed canary! Thanks to you bunch of bitches, you unleashed a force on the world so powerful that it could wipe out everything you've ever known in the blink of an eye!"

"Exactly," Sam snapped. "So, leave us be. Let us ride through the fight in silence. We can at least reflect on what we've done in peace." He huffed, turning to lean his back against the frame. "What little of it we can find."

"Nuh-uh. Nope, you're not gonna roll over and bake in the sun like a herd of turtles. You don't get to give up. You're gonna keep swinging until your last drop of strength is spent."

"You don't get it!" Dean roared. Gabriel's glower deepened when it landed on him. He lifted to his feet and slowly approached the archangel. "You listen and you listen good. We're done. Michael and Lucifer have their vessels, and they're gonna hash it out any second now. There's no stopping anything anymore. We'll just wait here. Wait for the blast or a demon to do the job. But we're… we're just done."

Gabriel's glare had slowly faded and shaped into a confused gawk as the older Winchester ranted. He held his puzzled gaze, but when he saw that Dean was serious, he leaned his head back and groaned. "Oh, come on…" He pivoted on his heels and shouted to the ceiling. "Castiel! Get your ass over here! We got work to do."

Sam humorlessly snorted as he brought his drink to his lips. "Good luck. He's on a bender."

"Well, he'll have to sober up. I gotta tell him how much of a moron he is for not updating your sorry asses."

Sam's brows furrowed as he swallowed his beer. "Update us on what?"

"The fight already happened."

It was their turn to gawk. Their glares dimmed. Left behind were twin expressions of confusion and dread. If the fight already happened, how were they alive? Where was the blast? Or… did the blast happen, and they were left out of the destruction? They both decided that the latter was the worse fate.

"Who?" Bobby asked with a grave tone. "Who won?"

"The worser of two evils."

Dean's face fell, the weight of the words weakening his aggressive mask. He wilted with poorly restrained sorrow. Sam wilted as well. He pressed deeper against the wall to keep himself upright. He wasn't even sure why he should. What was the use of fighting against his weak knees with the knowledge that Lucifer succeed in taking over the planet? Why hold onto strength when the planet was about to become Hell on Earth, and all because of him?

"And that's not even the worst of it."

Dean's brows fell, but the anguish remained on his face. "So, what is?" he grunted.

Gabriel noisily inhaled an exasperated breath as he approached the couch and sat. "It's how he won. He didn't kill Michael. He stole his grace."

Before the stunned and baffled silence could be broken, a rush of wind and fluttering wings heralded the arrival of Castiel right before the angel himself appeared facedown in a pile of books.

"Nice flying, Mav," Gabriel sighed, watching as Cas sat up and swayed as he tried to lock his gaze onto him. He was a sorry sight. Disheveled hair, dark bags under his eyes, his coat hanging onto one shoulder, and damp stains adorning his lapels.

"What does that mean? Stealing his grace?" Sam asked, shelving his bottle.

"It means Michael's about as powerful as your average taxpayer and Lucifer's twice as juiced as before."

Bobby shook his head and leaned back into his chair. "So, nothin's changed. The Devil is still too strong to kill."

Gabriel pointed at the older man. "You are correct, Jethro. We can't kill him."

"Then get the hell out," Cas growled. His glower was darker than it had ever been, enunciated by the exhaustion sagging his features. "Don't waste the time we have left."

"But he can still be stopped," Gabriel continued with a slight air of annoyance. "Remember the cage you sprung him from? Well, you'll be glad to hear that it's still in Hell. And, if we plan it perfectly, we can shove his ass back in. If you want me to tell you how… there's just one thing you gotta do."

The four before him looked at him expectantly, some with more fervent expressions than the others. Gabriel, however, looked at only two. He lazily switched his gaze between Sam and Dean as he spread his arms across the back of the couch.

"Apologize. Apologize for ignoring me, letting Lucifer get this far, and for handing Frankie right to him."

"Oh, Christ," Dean groused, aggressively rolling his eyes and throwing his head to the side.

"No sorry, no secret."

"Why do you give a shit about her?" Dean barked, rounding on the archangel. "You go her whole life barely acknowledging she's alive, and now you're suddenly concerned about her safety? Where were you when she needed you?!"

Gabriel stared coolly at the raving man, unmoved from his languid lounging. "Where were you?"

Dean's jaw tightened and his nostrils flared, but it was Sam who beat him to the punch. "We didn't know she existed. We have an excuse. It was your job to protect her. You failed."

"Well, I'm not the only one, am I?!" The room silenced – save for the rain and light thunder outside – at the archangel's sudden outburst. He dug his unyielding, wide-eyed glower into Sam until the man shuffled against the doorframe in discomfort. Once he got his fill, Gabriel loudly huffed and rolled his eyes.

"I'm not suddenly valiant. I'm not looking for redemption; I really couldn't care less about your sister. I want Lucifer put down because as long as he's inside Frankie he has the potential to go nuclear. We're talking Earth and Moon destruction. Her body's not strong enough to handle him, and when he goes, he takes out everything."

"So, he'll just hop into the next Tom, Dick, or Stanley and keep truckin'. The fight's over. He doesn't need a Winchester anymore," Bobby reasoned. His voice was remarkably calm and laidback for how affected he was at the idea of Frankie being worn down to the bone.

"Winchester? No. But Frankie… she's too valuable to give up. He's got his paws on the One Ring, and he's not letting his precious go."

"Why?" Cas grunted. Gabriel narrowed his gaze on the angel, and he acted in kind. "Why is she so valuable?"

"We're on a time crunch here. We're not gonna get held up on logistics-"

"Why is she so valuable?!" Sam, Dean, and Bobby were caught off guard by the rare outburst from Castiel. Even Gabriel was thrown off by the intense bite in his tone. This was, after all, something he had been consumed by since he first met the girl. He didn't take the subject lightly. "If you expect us to trust your word and follow you in your infeasible plot you will tell us what we need to know. Why does Lucifer covet her?"

Gabriel lingered his long, silent stare on the angel until he forced himself to look away. His eyes were unfocused, his lip quirked, as he chewed on Cas' words. He chuckled at one point, a joyless, cynical laugh that hinted he thought them idiotic for seeking the answer, but that laugh faded at the realization that they were at an impasse. He was here for a reason. He needed help to take down Lucifer, and he'd only get their aid if he relented.

Gabriel leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, gesturing with his hands. "I'm only gonna say this once. And only because you're on a need-to-know basis." Gabriel heaved a long breath, one last manifestation of reluctance. "It's about her soul. Or… souls."

Sam's brows shot for his hairline, Dean's head recoiled with a dazed snort and a baffled shake of his head, and Bobby wore a stunned and curious scowl. Cas, however, sat on the floor scowling at the archangel, his brows digging deep into his face.

"Souls?" Dean deadpanned.

"Plural?" Sam followed.

"Mhm. Frankie's packing double."

"That isn't possible," Cas gruffly spat. "The human body isn't capable of possessing two souls. It can barely contain one. Additionally, I felt her soul. I did not find another."

Gabriel slightly rolled his eyes and spoke with a mocking cadence. "That's 'cause it's not a vestigial twin. It's inside. Like a Kinder Egg."

"She would explode if that were true."

"Well, she's obviously sturdier than she lets on," Gabriel huffed, leaning into the couch and crossing his arms. "A second soul isn't even what you need to worry about. Lucifer can pick up a human soul like a pack of menthols at the mini-mart. But that's just it. He needs Frankie," Gabriel lifted his brows and shut his eyes with a hesitant sigh, "because her other soul isn't human."

The four's minds were alight and raving as a hush settled in the room. Anxiety and dread built up in their guts at the insinuation of Gabriel's reveal.

"Well, don't leave us with our jaws on the floor," Bobby's voice cut through the tension. "What kinda soul is it?"

Gabriel – arms still crossed – limply pointed at Castiel. "Let's just say that if Cas put that necklace Dean lent him around her neck, it'd probably glow."

The fuming glower that had creased Cas' face since the moment he flew into the room melted the longer his eyes lingered on the archangel. The words worked around his skull, their meaning absorbing into his brain and coloring it with a lovely shade of terror.

"That's impossible."

"What? That the answer you've been killing yourself over was right in front of you the whole time or that she's carrying around the last known surefire piece of God?"

Sam dryly snorted and held his hands out before him. "Hold on. You're saying Frankie… is part God?"

Gabriel lazily tilted his head toward Sam and eyed him with a weary gaze. "No. I'm saying she's smuggling a tiny chunk of God like a drug mule, and trust me, you do not want Lucifer to find that stash. Luckily, it's protected by her human soul. If he tries to pry it open…" He held his fists out before him and extended his fingers as he blew a crackling breath, interpreting an explosion. The act made the four's stomachs heavy. "But he'll find a way. He always does."

"W-Why would Frankie have a piece of God?" Sam asked, still struggling to wrap his head around the concept.

"I told you you're on a need-to-know basis and that's something you don't gotta know. If we're lucky, you'll never have to."

"So, the plan," Dean said, his voice raising to gather attention. "It's to get him out of Frankie before he cracks her soul and serves it over-easy?"

Gabriel sputtered out a short bark of laugher. The four in front of him looked on with confusion and affront. Gabriel slapped his knees before hoisting himself off the couch. "Look, guys. You screwed up any chance of saving your sister. The plan is to shove Lucifer back in the cage."

Dean's face hardened like cooling lava. Horror lay behind his glaring eyes. "No. I'm not letting her back into Hell."

"Well, you don't have a choice!" Gabriel yelled for the second time. "It's either Frankie fries or seven billion, and I care a helluva lot more about humanity than you do, pal! We're putting Lucifer in the cage." He quickly closed the already small distance between them to snap in Dean's face. "Period."

Just as before, Dean's jaw clenched and his nostrils flared, only he didn't have the urge to talk back this time. He merely glared on, not backing down from the archangel's fury.

Sam was sure that he thought the same as Dean. He knew there was no getting Frankie back. Once she said "yes" to Lucifer, she signed her death certificate. And if there was a way to save Frankie, it would be too impossible for them to accomplish, and several others may lose their lives if they made the attempt. Now the Devil had potential access to God-like power the likes of which no man had ever seen before or ever will again. He should have said "yes" when he had the chance.

All that mattered now was stopping Lucifer. That would be the best way to honor her memory. Though… what was the use of a memory when she was locked in a cage with the Devil for eternity?

"So," Gabriel hissed, still in Dean's face. "You want me to tell you how? You know what to do."

Dean's lips stayed shut. He spoke only with his eyes, and they spouted several obscenities at the archangel.

"We're sorry," Sam huffed for them both.

Gabriel turned his head toward him and arched a brow. "For?"

"We're sorry for ignoring you."

"And?"

Sam swallowed, a lump hindering its journey. "Getting Frankie possessed."

Gabriel nodded once. He flicked his eyes back to Dean. "Now you."

"Fuck off."

Gabriel's lips stretched into a wide, irate smirk. "Enjoy Armageddon, boys. Oh, until Frankie detonates and destroys us all." He turned and headed for the door.

"Dean," Sam wearily sighed.

"What?!" he immediately fired. He faced his brother and found a resigned frown pulling at his features. Dean countered it with an incensed grimace, but even through his anger, he could clearly see that they needed the bastard. He rolled his eyes and shook his head with a huff. "Sorry." Gabriel stopped and turned on his heels, smugly smiling at the older Winchester. "That's the best you're getting."

"Mm. I'll take it. Alright. Here's the laydown." He walked back into study, nearly stepping on Cas. The angel scowled and wobbled to his feet to lean against the wall. "You wanna open the cage? You're gonna need the key. Keys, actually. And not really keys. Rings. Four of them."

"Okay. Now we're gettin' somewhere," Bobby grumbled. "Where do we find 'em?"

"Not in any cereal box. The good news is you don't gotta track down two of them. You already got them."

Dean spread out his arms impatiently. "Is this a riddle or something? Is it the friends we made along the way?"

Gabriel rolled his head along with his eyes. "The Horsemen's rings."

Sam and Dean shared a curious look with each other. It had been a while since they concerned themselves with the four big baddies of the Apocalypse. "The Horsemen? We got War's," Sam noted.

"Snagged Famine's."

"Collect all four?"

"You get the cage," Gabriel finished with two finger guns. "So. We all straight? Er…" He purposefully looked at Dean. "'On board'?" he corrected, enjoying the exasperation that ignited in the man's face and posture.

Sam met the faces around the room before crossing his arms and nodding. "We're with you."

"Not so fast."

Gabriel dramatically groaned at Dean, leaning backwards as the sound grew louder. "Why is it always a damn debate with you? It's like I'm back in home on family game night."

"We'll go with your plan – get the Horsemen's rings, push Lucifer back in – if we get Frankie out first."

"Oh, come on!" Gabriel gestured animatedly as he shouted. "Wake up! Lucifer got his golden goose and he ain't letting her go! We have one shot at this, and I won't see it go down the drain for a suicide mission!"

Dean humorlessly smiled. "Let me lay this out so you can understand. Either we get Frankie out," he pointed his thumb over his shoulder, "or Sam and me go to the nearest kiln and melt the rings into commemorative coins."

"So, this girl you haven't even known a year is worth more to you than the entire goddamn planet?!"

"This mission is about saving as many people as possible. That includes her."

Gabriel darkly chuckled as he backpaddled and turned, raking his hands through his hair. His patience was running thin with Dean. Everyone in the room was affected by the anger resonating off the archangel. Bobby worried the fate of his house if they pushed him much further.

Yet again they were at an impasse. They both needed things from the other that seemed – and probably were – utterly impossible. The only question was who would cave first.

Gabriel dragged his hands over his face, inhaling a long, hissing breath. He suddenly dropped his arms and whipped his seething gaze to Dean. Slowly but fervently, he stepped up to the man and spoke with a barely restrained growl.

"If I agree to try, will that appease you?" Dean's resolute silence was going to be his only response. "Fine. But if this plan goes south, it'll be your fault all over again." He leaned forward, their noses only a few inches apart. His voice was gravely low. "I've never met a man that fucked over the world twice. That would be something to see."


Gabriel sat on his haunches and peeked around a tree, one of several identical hickories and accenting bushes lined up alongside a rather lazy highway. He was nearly invisible in the low light of the shrouded moon as he observed a tall, angular hospital on the other side of the asphalt. Though his eyes were pointed at the face of the building, his gaze was set deeper within the hospital.

"Alright. He's in there. Surrounded by demons. They'll trip the alarm if they see us, so you and me," he withdrew from the tree and sat on the grass to stare at Castiel crouching behind him, "will just wait 'til he's alone. Whatcha been up to?" The angel didn't look his way and instead elected to glare at the building. Gabriel rolled his eyes and leaned against the tree's trunk. "Okay, silent treatment. You always were immature."

"I am not speaking to you because I have nothing to say to you."

Gabriel lazily lifted his brows and rested his wrists on his bent knees. "Sounds so harsh. Have I jilted you, Cas?" He didn't bite. His already narrowed eyes squinted deeper in response. Gabriel frowned and glanced off to the side. "Why do I feel like this has to do with the girl?" Castiel finally looked at him, and the expression on his face was far from friendly. "Ugh! What is it with you clowns and that Pearce chick? You've let her wrap herself around your pinkie!"

Cas' lips scrunched as his frown deepened, and his eye faintly twitched.

"Or… maybe you let her wrap herself around something else."

Cas' glower finally drew back, but only marginally. "What are you implying?" he asked, a puzzled tone underneath his irritated voice.

"The Hardy Boys I get. Fighting tooth and nail for family, no matter how small and annoying, but you…" Gabriel impishly smirked and wiggled his brow. "She must be something real special to you."

"She's my friend," Cas sighed matter-of-factly. He turned back to the hospital.

"Hey, look, buddy. I get it," Gabriel said, holding up his hands in defense. "I've indulged in the horizontal tango with all kinds of humans. If anyone gets the appeal, it's me. I just didn't picture you with… I dunno. Her."

Cas stared sideways at the archangel. "I don't understand your implication."

"Well, it's partially 'cause I get more of an Arthur vibe than a Martha from you, but also 'cause… I mean, it's Frankie. She's fine enough, I guess – she's no Jenna Jameson – but she's got this whole petulant 'I gotta do what I gotta do no matter who it hurts' schtick that just makes ya roll your eyes and chase it with Jack. But hey, to each his own." Gabriel leaned forward and slapped Cas' shoulder with the back of his hand. "You go chase that God-carrying tail." He turned as he leaned back to keep an idle eye on the hospital. "If you ever want some tips on moves, I'm your archangel."

Cas now looked directly at Gabriel, eyeing his profile with an utterly confused gape. He briefly looked off to the side to ponder over the meaning of the archangel's words, but he came up blank and returned his bewildered gaze to him. "Moves?"

Gabriel glanced back at Cas with a passive expression and made a double-take when he realized his partner's confusion. "Oh, don't tell me you subject poor Frankie to just missionary," he dramatically groused.

Cas recoiled and further furrowed his brows. "I am not an evangelist."

Gabriel slightly leaned away from Castiel with a perplexed stare, but the corners of his lips were slightly curled upwards. "You're a weird guy, Castiel. You and Frankfurt make a good couple." Gabriel turned his back to Cas to peek around the tree.

Cas blinked to attention at Gabriel's last words. Much of human culture was a mystery to him, but he knew from his observations with Frankie's friends that the casual use of the word often had a more suggestive connotation. "When you refer to us as a 'couple'… you're suggesting that Frankie and I are-"

"Shagging. Copulating. Knowing each other in the Biblical sense."

Cas tilted his head, but the archangel's insinuation quickly caught up to him. His face blanked, his eyes going wide. He recoiled so sharply that it knocked him off his haunches. "That is a false allegation!"

Gabriel shrugged and rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "C'mon, Cas, it's no secret. Everyone that knows where you've been all this time is in on it. Sure, they see you as even more of a traitor and you have a much larger bounty on your head, but it's all worth it to see every inch of that freckled skin, huh?"

"Frankie and I do not share a carnal relationship!"

"You can't seriously expect me to believe that. I've heard you even sleep in the same bed!"

"Not like-… We're just friends! We don't… do those things!" Cas' cheeks softly burned, but their surely pink shade was hidden by the dim light of the moon.

"Cas, you're not the first angel to have sex with a human. Just own it."

Cas leaned forward and grabbed Gabriel's shoulder. The archangel glanced back with furrowed brows and stared into the borderline hostile glare of his partner. "I have never copulated with Frankie."

"Do you want to?"

One quick question – seemingly ready on the tip of his tongue – rendered Cas' hastily constructed glower broken beyond repair. Cas frustratedly averted his gaze and forced his discomfited expression into submission. "I have never thought to."

Gabriel grabbed Cas' wrist and pried his hand from his shoulder. "Well, you probably shouldn't start. I may have said that I'd try to save her, but I know for a fact that I won't succeed. Might be best for you to just hang onto fond memories and not expect much of a rescue."

With a clench of his jaw and his brows descending, Cas' cheeks now burned with a different emotion. "I wouldn't have to if you followed your ordained duty to keep her safe," he gruffly grunted.

"Geez, here we go again," Gabriel grumbled, dropping his head.

"You were her guardian angel, Gabriel. You were supposed to look after her!"

The archangel whipped around, glaring. "And you were supposed to follow orders like a good little soldier. So, stow the 'holier than thou' 'tude, Asstiel."

"She was your responsibility."

"One of many. And just like all the others, they got thrown out the window the minute Heaven started whining over Daddy."

Cas stared at Gabriel, disappointed and vexed. His respect for the archangel had been gravely weakened long ago, but it was now completely diminished. Abandoning Heaven and his duties was one thing – it was hypocritical for Cas to judge him harshly over that – but to do so with such willingness and lack of regard was simply despicable. Truly "bottom of the barrel" as the boys might say. Gabriel was without affiliation, living on his own whim, selfish. He was surprised he was even trying to stop the Apocalypse. It was almost suspicious.

Cas' eye was suddenly drawn to movement behind Gabriel's head. A window on the hospital's fifth floor was freshly stained red with small streams sliding down the glass. Gabriel followed Cas' sight. He extended his vision into the room and sighed.

"He's alone. Let's move out."

Cas didn't need to be told twice. Time away from Gabriel was genially welcomed. He transported from the roadside tree to the threshold of the hospital room. The body of a young man lay sprawled over his bed, his head limply angled toward the window where the fresh blood glided down the glass. His mouth was shining and stained crimson, as were his eyes. His skin was a sickly yellow, and his limbs were speckled with boils.

Sitting at his bedside was a tall, thin man with defined cheekbones, gaunt cheeks, and a square jaw. His receding hairline was nearing completion, but his modest suit complemented the look. Despite his outward appearance, nothing was modest about this creature. Castiel was face-to-face with the embodiment of disease itself.

Pestilence's ghoulish face fell at the sight of the angel. Panic breeched his sunken eyes as he rose to his feet. "What are you doing here?" he quickly asked in a guarded voice.

Cas moved hastily toward the Horseman. "The Winchesters send their regards."

His chest heaved, jerking his body. Cas' shoes screeched to a stop on the tile flooring. His throat suddenly burned, starting deep in his lungs and quickly crawling up until it became painful. He coughed. The first spurt triggered a forceful series of raspy coughs to debilitate his attack. He stumbled backwards, dizzy. His head throbbed with an intense pressure built up behind his eyes, and his skin began to swelter.

His knees gave out with a harsh cough. He caught himself on his palms, all his strength going towards keeping himself off the floor. A wet cough crackled from his mouth, inviting the taste of iron. A clump of mucus and blood ooze off his tongue and poured from his lips.

His eyes frantically flicked across the tile as he tried to focus on the foreign sensation of disease in his system. This was entirely new territory, one an angel should never experience, and yet here he was, immobilized by bacteria.

"I'll be damned…" Cas' body shivered as he lifted his head. Pestilence's shoes clicked as he walked up to him and crouched. "Incredible. An angel with just a teaspoon of grace left. You at least have more than Michael now." Cas' head fell as another series of coughs shook his body. Pestilence tsked and shook his head. "One of God's most divine creations crippled by a little Tuberculosis. Fascinating. You don't mind if I run a few tests, do you?"

Cas snapped his head up to see the Horseman's fingers just an inch from his face. He would later feel shame for harboring panic at being further inflicted by disease.

Pestilence's wrist was captured and slammed onto the floor. His ring and middle fingers were sliced off by Gabriel's blade. The sound of his ring clinking across the floor was drowned out by his pitiful hollering. He stood and backpaddled, cradling his gushing hand.

Cas' illness dissolved the moment the Horseman was separated from his bauble. He heaved a large, clean breath, though it did not erase the taste of blood from his throat and mouth. He hoisted himself to his feet. Beside him, Gabriel plucked the ring from the floor and blew on it.

Pestilence hissed at his mangled hand and glared at the two angels. When he looked at Gabriel, his horrified gape cooled to an incensed sneer. "Well, now. The archangel Gabriel finally takes a little initiative. Daddy would be so proud." Gabriel's grip on his bloody blade tightened. "You should've just stayed in your tiny corner. It's too late. Lucifer won."

"Lucifer won a battle. He's not crowned a usurper until Michael is gone for good. He's at rock bottom now, sure, but his grace will restore. Then we'll be right back to square one." He held the ring beside his head and wiggled it with a smirk. "Only he won't have his pets running his errands for him."

Pestilence's incredibly square jaw clenched as he scowled. "Michael's strength will return, but there will be nothing left to fight for."

Cas's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Pestilence, still holding his bleeding hand, stepped dauntingly towards the angel. "The humans God loved so much, gone. Picking each other out of their teeth, devouring anything left alive. Showing their true colors like the disgusting, flawed parasites they are!"

The tip of Gabriel's blade poked through his forehead. The Horseman gave a shrill gasp before he went walleyed and collapsed at Cas' feet. The angel glared at the suddenly lifeless body. He snapped his head up, watching Gabriel shake his blade clean and staining the once pristine walls.

"Why would you do that?" he growled.

"He was getting annoying."

"We needed him!"

"What for? We have the ring."

"He spoke of Lucifer's plan for humanity. We needed that crucial information."

"We know enough."

"We know nothing!"

Gabriel sighed and stuffed his still wet blade into his jacket. "Cas, Cas, Cas. How you survive without any sense boggles me. Obviously, they're gonna do something to people that changes or degrades them. Killing them would be too easy, too predictable. Lucifer's more dramatic than that. He hates humans, but he hates that Dad loved them more than anything else. It's his last hurrah, his final middle finger to God."

Cas gazed pensively behind Gabriel. "He's planning on corrupting the humans."

"Now you're getting it," the archangel scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "What that is, I haven't a clue. I'll head out and do some digging. You," he flicked Pestilence's ring into the air, and Cas caught it in his hands, "hang onto this and keep the girls outta trouble. Make sure they're finding Death. We're just a few steps away from ending this."