Chapter 2 - Nobody Wins A War
Rowena had filled Raguel in on the conversation she had overheard at the diner, and he was lost deep in thought now. Surely, there must be a way to use this very interesting information to his advantage.
Raguel was much more interested in obtaining the Book of Life than in getting the Book of the Dead. The Book of Life's ultimate purpose, as far as Raguel was concerned, was to serve as an instruction manual of sorts. Guidelines on the disposition of souls. Whomever held the Book would be the ultimate judge of the dead, which was what Raguel desired most of all.
Not very many people, or even Angels, knew who Raguel was any more, but there had been a time when he had been held in high esteem in Heaven. His function had been to dispense justice on God's behalf, and punishment to those who violated God's Will. Much like a Sheriff or a Constable, Raguel's job was to keep fallen Angels and Demons in check. Raguel had been a Senior Seraphim, but he had successfully argued to the Father that, in order to do his job effectively, he should be promoted to Archangel. God had seen logic in that, so He had conferred the title and most of the attendant powers upon him. But the Almighty had sold Raguel on the supposed fact that, because Raguel was God's covert operative, his name would not appear in the Bible, nor would it come up on a list of known Archangels. Raguel had bought the story hook, line, and sinker, at least at the time.
Raguel really wanted the Book of Life, but he would also take the Book of the Dead, of course. Not only because the two were pretty much a matched set, but also to keep the Book of the Dead out of the hands of any of the other major players. If any one of them were to get their hands on the other Book, Raguel's power would be considerably diluted.
Now that God the Father was retired and the High Office seemed to be passing from one individual to the other like a hot potato, Raguel felt the time was right for him to step up as the ultimate lawman. But this time, he wanted to be on top, separating the Good from the Evil, bringing down every kind of wrath on the Evil. That was the mission that God the Father had charged him with all those centuries ago, and that was the mission that he intended to carry out. Many would probably call Raguel a zealot, but he did not necessarily feel that that was a bad thing.
So, Castiel was contemplating a Holy War, was he? That little tidbit of information had made Raguel sit up and take notice. From everything Raguel had been led to believe, Castiel had softened over the years, and was at best a moderate, these days. But if this report was accurate, Raguel might have to change his opinion about his Brother.
Raguel was all in favour of a Holy War. It would certainly make his job easier. Many lives would be lost, and many tears would be shed, by those who still had the ability to shed them. But Raguel had lost that ability a long time ago, if he'd ever had it to begin with. Oh, well. Let those who had tears weep for the dead. They could even weep for the Sinners, if they wanted to. Raguel would not, and he would show no mercy, either. After all, none had been shown to Raguel, nor any respect, for that matter. He had always understood his name to mean "friend of God", and that interpretation had served to make him very proud. But his fellow Archangels had scoffed, saying that his name actually meant "assistant to God", and that he was no peer of theirs. If he didn't believe them, he could look it up in the Book of Enoch. Then they had all turned their backs on him, and he had been utterly humiliated. And he had never asked the Father about it, because he had been afraid of the answer.
But he would show them all that he was someone to be respected. For, once he got a hold of the Book of Life, Raguel intended to separate the wheat from the chaff, and the Righteous from the Sinners. And if any of those arrogant, entitled Archangels thought they were without Sin, they had another think coming.
It was strange, though; Raguel had been under the impression that Castiel had been one of the worst sinners of all. But if he was seriously contemplating waging war, Raguel might very well have to reconsider. Perhaps a partnership might be in order. He would have to wait and see.
Cas had felt better after his visits, however imaginary, from God and Gail. But he still wasn't quite right, although he sensed he might be getting closer now. He still hadn't had anything to eat, he hadn't allowed himself to fall asleep, and he was using his water only sparingly. But he hadn't had any additional visions, either good or bad.
He was beginning to fall into a depression now. Where was his epiphany? And then one day, about a week after he had received his canteen, it happened.
His feet hurt, so he stopped to rest. He leaned up against a large rock and set the canteen down on it while he removed his shoes. They had sand in them, of course. They always did. He upended them, then took off his socks and shook them out, as well. It was nearly night-time now, and the place where he was currently standing was comfortable enough, so he tarried, sinking his toes into the sand. It felt good to have his feet free from encumbrance for a moment, but the sand was already starting to get warm on his skin. So he reached up to grab the canteen, in order to wash his feet. It was then that he felt the sting.
Cas jerked his hand away, and he saw the scorpion scuttling down the rock. But it was not black or even yellow in colour; it was white. A white scorpion? Cas had never heard of such a creature. He looked at his hand. It was already swollen, and the area around the sting mark was very red. He put his lips to it and attempted to suck out whatever strange poison might have been injected into him, but it was too late. Perhaps Patricia had been reincarnated as a scorpion, Cas thought sarcastically, and had wanted to mess with him just one final time.
He started to feel lightheaded. He slumped down the rock until he was sitting on the sand, and his eyes started to close. Great. Now he was going to die here, without ever seeing his loved ones again. He should have just gone home after the visit from God. Really, what more did he need?
Cas drifted off into a feverish sleep, but in his mind's eye, he had only rested a moment until he looked off into the distance and heard a huge booming sound. An instant later, a mushroom cloud appeared in the sky, and he could hear the screams of the unfortunates. The ones who had survived the explosion.
Cas got to his feet as quickly as he could. Was he close enough to receive radiation from the blast? Did it even matter?
He began to walk through the desert, towards the source of the explosion. He needed to see how bad it was, and if there was anything he could do to help. But he could hear other blast sounds reverberating in his head, and he wondered now if this was the End of Times. Was he the last one on Earth now? No. He couldn't believe that. He wouldn't believe that. He needed to find survivors.
No, you need to stay away from everyone, the voice inside his head said. This is your fault. You and your Holy War. It is YOU who is the scourge of the world. Now, you have gotten all of your loved ones annihilated.
And now, the struggle began: Who was 'Cas', anyway? WHAT was he? Was he the hero he was trying so desperately to be, merely attempting to love, and be loved? Or was he a dangerous, violent beast, as Patricia had kept on saying, who should be kept away from society altogether?
Suddenly, he came upon a woman. She was sitting on the ground, leaning up against a rock, and she was crying. Oh, thank God, there were survivors, Cas thought. He hadn't wanted to spend the rest of his existence alone.
He went to the woman and knelt beside her. "Please don't cry," he said to her.
She looked up at him with big brown eyes. Her tears ceased, but her expression was one of hurt and sorrow. He had to comfort her. He touched her face gently, wiping away an errant tear. Her skin was unbelievably soft.
And when she spoke, her voice was soft, as well. She said, "I'm all alone, and I'm hurt."
Cas was startled. Had he hurt her in some way? After all, he was a violent brute, wasn't he? Everybody said so. And she looked so vulnerable. So he got to his feet and backed away from her. He didn't want to harm her any further.
So he turned and started to walk away, but a moment later, he looked down, and she was walking beside him. "Please, go away," Cas said softly. "I'm not fit to be around anyone."
Then he started walking again, and again, she followed. He cautioned her twice more, but still, she persisted. He begged her to stay away from him, for her own sake. But no matter what he said, she just looked up at him with her big brown eyes, patiently listening, and then she would follow him anyway.
Cas gave up. He no longer had the heart to try to shoo her away. Truthfully, now that she was here, he felt much better, although she hadn't said a word since her intitial greeting.
A while later, they came upon two tall men, walking down the road. At some point, the desert sand had become a winding path, and Cas had found himself walking on it with the woman. And now, they had encountered two other men.
The men looked at him in surprise, and Cas assessed them warily. Were they a threat? His first instinct was to go for his blade, to protect the woman. But of course, he didn't have his blade. He'd left it behind...where? He couldn't remember.
But the men and the woman greeted each other as if they knew each other, and then the men fell in on either side of him and the woman. Maybe Cas was the one who was the threat, then. They were just looking at him, not saying a word. Were they there to protect the woman from him?
Cas started to walk down the path again, and all three of them followed along beside him. Except for the fact that none of his companions had spoken, this was starting to remind him of a movie he'd seen, once. Were they on their way to the Emerald City, perhaps? Which one was Cas? The one without a brain, a heart, or courage? All three of those could be persuasively argued, he thought with faint humour.
Soon one day folded into the next, and then the next. The path never seemed to end, and every day, it was the same. Eventually, his companions did begin to speak to him, and incredibly, they told him that they were with him merely to love him, and to care for him.
"No," he protested. "I destroyed the world."
"You didn't, Cas," the taller man said to him. "You came back from your sabbatical, and you said you weren't going to wage war. That you understood your mission, now."
"Yeah, and thanks a lot for telling us about that, by the way," the other, shorter-haired man said to the woman, nudging her.
Cas tensed, but the woman simply smiled up at the man who had jostled her. "Hey, there was nothing you could have done about it, anyway," she said warmly. "He had to discover his true mission on his own." She looked at Cas, putting her hand gently on his arm. "Have you discovered your mission yet, Cas?"
But every day, he had frowned when she'd asked him that question. "No," he'd said sadly.
Then the woman and the two men would exchange glances, smiling. "That's OK; we can wait," one of them would say. "Our mission is to walk with you, and take care of you."
Eventually, Cas had ceased to protest, because nothing he said made any difference. So they walked with him, offering him comfort and companionship, asking nothing in return. Then, one day, he stopped walking.
"I know what my mission is," Cas said dazedly. "I can't believe I forgot. The white scorpion's sting made me forget. My mission is to love all of YOU, and take care of YOU. I'm supposed to love my wife, my family, and myself, and to regain Paradise for those of us who have lost it. THAT'S my mission! Not to wage war, but to walk with you, and take care of all of you!"
"I told you he'd get it," Sam said to Dean. "You owe me five bucks."
"Yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled good-naturedly. "Now hurry up and get home, Cas. Your wife's been driving us nuts. But seriously, we all miss you, buddy."
Gail smiled up at her husband. "I'm so glad you had your epiphany, Cas. I'll be waiting for you in Heaven."
He looked at her sadly. "You're my wife, aren't you?" he asked her.
Her smile faded. "Yes," she said curtly.
"I'm sorry, but I can't remember your name," he told her, his forehead wrinkling.
Her face fell for a moment, but she said, "OK, Cas. Come to the bunker, then, and we'll talk."
"You're not angry with me?" he asked her, astonished.
She smiled thinly. "Well, I'm not thrilled. But, we'll get there. I'm never giving up on you, Cas. Never. Now, come on." She took his hand. "We'll walk you to the fork in the road, and then we'll be leaving you. Come to the bunker as soon as you wake up."
"How do I get there?" he fretted.
"Just click your heels three times, Dorothy," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "Get over yourself, Cas. You know how to get to the bunker."
Gail smirked. "And, there you have it. The man with no heart."
"I thought he was the one with no brains," Sam quipped.
"Six of one, half dozen of the other," Gail said, shrugging. "Let's go, you guys."
They walked Cas to the fork in the road, and then they faded away, one by one, until Cas was left standing there alone. He smiled gently. His family. He loved them all so very, very much. Even if he couldn't remember his darling wife's name at the moment.
Cas closed his eyes, and a minute later, he woke up. The sun was just starting to rise on the horizon. The world hadn't ended, because he had never started the war. He should have died overnight from the scorpion's sting, but his family had come to him in his dream and kept him alive until the morning. He smiled again.
He put his socks and shoes on, then sprang to his feet and retrieved his canteen from where it was still sitting on top of the rock. He slung it over his shoulder, concentrated on the bunker, and then winked himself away.
"How dare you use the c-word with me?!" Gail exclaimed, as Sam grinned.
Dean had entered the library area just in time to hear that, and he looked curiously at the two of them. There was no way Sam would ever use a word like that with Gail. He wasn't that kind of guy, and besides, he was still alive, wasn't he?
"Something I oughta know about, here?" Dean said dryly, looking from one of them to the other.
"HE called Cas and me 'co-dependent'!" Gail said, pointing her finger at Sam.
As Dean opened his mouth to retort, Cas suddenly popped into the room. Both Gail and Sam leaped out of their chairs, but Dean was the closest one in proximity to Cas, and he rushed over towards his friend. But then, he stopped short.
"Hooo, Cas, man, you need a shower, big-time," Dean told him, waving his hand back and forth.
"I'm sorry, Dean, I was just so excited to come here and see you," Cas said.
"Don't they have showers in Heaven?" Dean said, wrinkling his nose. "If you were a cartoon, you'd have those wavy lines coming out of you right now."
Heaven? Then, Cas realized: Dean didn't know where he had been. He looked at his wife. She'd obviously kept her counsel on his behalf this whole time, even though it must have been very difficult to do.
Now she was approaching him, but Cas held up his hand. "Stop," he told her, and then he looked at Sam. "Sam, come closer, please," Cas said to his friend. "Do I really...smell?"
"Since you asked, yeah, you do, Cas," Sam said, his lips twitching. "And, I hate to tell you this, but I don't have to come any closer to tell you that."
Cas was mortified. "I'm so sorry. I never thought..." He took the canteen off his shoulder, giving it to Dean. "I will go into the shower immediately. Can you please give this to my wife?"
Gail was looking at him curiously now. As Dean passed her the canteen, she said, "I'll go get you a change of clothes, Cas."
"Thank you," he replied.
"Thank you...who?" she asked him coolly.
His heart sank. "I cannot remember," he said softly.
"I'll be right back with the clothes," she said tonelessly, and then she popped out as Sam and Dean looked at each other, open-mouthed.
Gail popped up to their suite in Heaven. She put the canteen down on the coffee table, and then she walked calmly into the bedroom to get Cas a fresh outfit to wear.
But as she opened the closet and looked at his clothes, hanging right next to hers as always, she lost it.
"He doesn't even remember my name?" she said aloud. "He knows who Sam and Dean are, and he knows his way to the bunker, but he doesn't even remember my name?!" She waved her hand, and all of his clothes came flying out of the closet, landing on the bed. "Well, maybe I should pack ALL of his things, and he can go live with the two of them, then!" Another wave, and their bags went flying onto the bed. They flew open, and the clothes packed themselves. "Oh, the hell with it," she said angrily. "What do we need with a bed, anyway? It's not like we ever use it, these days!" She waved her hand again, and the bed ignited.
The souls in their various realms felt the heat from the fire, and a huge fireball came down from the sky and landed in the open field behind the bunker. Sam and Dean looked up when they heard the noise, startled. Cas was in the shower, luxuriating in the feel of water cascading down on him, making him clean again. Because he barely had any powers at the moment, he didn't sense a thing.
Then Gail waved her hand again, and the fire went out. So did the conflagration in the field behind the bunker. And their African acquaintances received a much-needed rainfall, as Gail's temper cooled.
Another hand wave, and the clothes and bags were back in the closet, and the bed was restored. So THAT was what it felt like to use God's powers, Gail thought. Wow. She'd had them inside of her this whole time, but she had never used them for anything. She'd just been holding them, for the person they really belonged to.
She sank down on the bed, trying to put herself in Cas's place. While he was gone, she'd had a vision, too. She had pictured him walking for miles and miles in the heat of the desert, looking for his epiphany. He had looked terrible. His skin was burned from the sun, his lips were dry and cracked, and he was perspiring heavily and crying too, shedding precious bodily fluid. How thirsty he must be. And, as soon as she'd had that thought, a canteen had appeared in his hand, and he had looked surprised. He'd had a couple of drinks from it and then upended it over his head, but then, the canteen had been empty. Gail thought about the never-ending bottles of liquor in the bunker, and then, Cas had taken another drink. Then he had smiled, and Gail had felt so happy to see that that she had almost felt like she was the one who had been walking alone in the desert. Because, in a way, she had been making her own lonely walk. All that time that Patricia had been keeping Cas imprisoned and drugged, Gail had been running around Heaven, making sure he wasn't forgotten. Then she'd finally gotten him to Earth, but she'd had to use every trick in the book, including murder, to free him from his captors. And still, he hadn't really known who she was, or who they were together. But that was OK, she'd told herself. He would get that back. He just needed time. The main thing had been that he was free. So what if he wouldn't hold her hand? So what if he looked at her with revulsion every time she tried to be affectionate towards him? Then they'd driven Patricia out of the Office, and Cas had become God. Now everything would be fine, Gail had thought. But, no. Cas had still kept her at arms' length, claiming to love her, but treating her as one would treat a person they were forced to keep company with. But then, finally, he had announced that he was going away to "get himself right", and she had rejoiced. He was leaving to have his epiphany, and he was going to come all the way back from what Patricia had done to him, at last. But now, he was saying that he didn't even remember Gail's name?! What the hell? How much more did she have to take?
But she'd had her little temper tantrum now, and because she still had The Eye, Gail had seen the temporary havoc she'd wreaked behind the bunker. That had scared her a little, actually. What if her aim had been off? What if that fireball had landed on someone's house, instead?
Besides, she wasn't really mad at Cas, she was mad at the situation. She tried to put herself in his place. How would he be feeling right now? Scared? Confused?
Dean liked a lot of Bob Seger songs, and there was one that said that until you'd been beside a man, you don't know how he feels. Gail knew her husband. It must be tearing him up inside not to be able to remember her name. Besides, what was more important right now was to make sure that he was himself again.
She sighed heavily. Then she rose from the bed and went to the closet to pick out an outfit for her husband.
Cas was thinking about Gail too, as he stepped out of the shower and toweled himself dry. The song that Gail had been thinking of also stated that once a man was inside a woman's heart, he must keep his head. It also went on to say that once Heaven opened up the door, Angels feared to tread. Cas had heard Dean listening to that song in his room before, and Dean's Angel friend had always thought that the lyrics were rather curious. If a man was inside a woman's heart, that meant that the woman had allowed him to enter, and once that happened, how could the man possibly keep his head? And why on earth would he want to? Cas was an "all in" type of individual. But now, he sort of understood the latter part. Once you were all in with your mate, it was exhilarating, but it was also very frightening. For as invested as you were in the person you loved, they were likewise invested in you, and any misstep you committed affected them just as much. He had seen the hurt in her eyes when he'd admitted that he couldn't remember her name. But Cas wasn't going to give up. She'd never given up on him. Not once.
He wrapped the towel around his waist and poked his head out of the washroom door. Dean was standing there, holding Cas's clothes. "Come on, let's get you dressed," Dean said to him. "We've gotta talk."
They were all sitting in the library area of the bunker now. Cas had taken his usual seat, but he hadn't reached out for Gail's hand. He wasn't even looking at her at the moment. She was trying not to take that personally.
Sam and Dean had opted to pick up the thread of the conversation that Sam and Gail had been having before Cas got there, hoping it would shake the couple out of their doldrums.
"I believe there was a subject still on the table," Sam said to his brother. "I said that Cas and Gail were co-dependent, and she seems to disagree. What do YOU have to say about it?"
"What do I have to say?" Dean echoed, looking at their Angel friends. "Are you kidding? If you look up 'co-dependent' in the dictionary, you see a picture of these two in there, waving. 'Helllooo. Here we are! Right here!'"
He had been looking to get a rise out of the couple, but Cas just sat there, expressionless, and Gail was morose, not speaking.
Then, Sam tried again. "Did you ever hear that song 'Chasing Cars'?" he asked her.
Gail shrugged. "I don't know, Sam. Maybe."
"Here," he said, typing away on his laptop. "When I heard this song, I thought of you guys right away." He hit Play, and turned up the volume.
Gail didn't react, but Cas sat up straighter in his chair. He cocked his head, listening to the lyrics of the song. Then, unexpectedly, he began to cry.
"That's exactly how I feel about you!" Cas exclaimed, looking at Gail. "Yet everyone, ever since we met, has tried to tell me that it's wrong to feel that way. Even the two of you," he continued, looking at Sam and Dean. "But, no one has ever told me WHY it is wrong. We were happy, weren't we?" he asked Gail.
She was speechless, running the gamut of emotions right now. It was breaking her heart to see the tears running down his face. Cas had always worn his heart on his sleeve, but he'd had way too many reasons to cry lately. So had she, for that matter. Her heart had soared when Cas had said that he felt the same way as the lyrics of the song had suggested. So did she, but she was glad that he had said so first. That said to her that he truly did remember how he felt about her, and who they were together. And he had articulated the frustration she'd felt when their friends had called them "co-dependent". That word was always tossed around in such a negative way. The bottom line was, if she and Cas were so deeply in love, why couldn't people just let them be deeply in love? The thing that was bothering her the most, though, was Cas's use of the past tense.
"Well, weren't we?" Cas persisted.
"Yes, Cas," she said sadly. "We were. We were blissfully, ecstatically happy." Well, when people weren't trying to poison us or kill us, that is, she thought sarcastically. Which admittedly, had been the majority of the time they had been together.
"Well then, why does everyone keep trying to tell us how to live, and how to feel?" Cas puzzled aloud. He looked at the brothers, and then at Gail again. "You're always taking up for me. Supporting me. You're always asking me what I think, and how I feel. What do YOU think? How do YOU feel, Gail?"
Her mouth fell open. "You know my name," she breathed.
"Of course I do," Cas said, wrinkling his forehead. "You're my wife, aren't you?"
Gail started to smile. "You know my name," she said again. "Say it again."
"Gail," he said warmly.
"He knows my name!" Gail exclaimed happily. She rose from her chair and started to dance in place. "You want to know what I think?" she went on. "I think everybody else can suck it!"
"What the hell are you doing?" Dean asked her.
"I'm doing the victory dance," she told him. "Cas knows my name!"
"You're weird," Dean said, shaking his head. "You're BOTH weird."
"That's because we're co-dependent!" she said delightedly. Of course, deep down inside, Gail knew that it was true: she and Cas WERE extremely co-dependent. But how could two people who had been through as much as the two of them had together NOT be co-dependent? And was that really so wrong, or was it just because everyone else chose to put such a negative spin on it? The term had always had a bad connotation placed on it, but...
"Doesn't the body depend on the heart to survive?" Gail asked the brothers. She smiled at her husband, who gave her a gentle smile in return. Cas thought that was a very sweet and apt way to put it. "'If love be madness, may I never find sanity again'," he said softly.
Gail rushed over to him. That had sounded like a quote from something. Shakespeare? The Bible? George Michael? Who cared?
Cas stood from his chair. "Thank you for the use of your shower," he said to the Winchesters. "Gail and I will be going back to Heaven now, but I promise you it won't be so long between visits from now on. I have a mission, and it's time that I got started."
Cas extended his hand to Gail, and her heart soared again. She blew the brothers a kiss, took her husband's hand, and they popped out of the bunker.
Cas sat Gail down on the couch in the living room of their suite, and he began to talk. He told her about everything that had transpired in the desert, both real and imaginary, and everything in-between.
"You and Sam and Dean kept me alive last night," he told her. "I am sure of it. I would have died of the scorpion's poison, had it not been for the three of you."
She was puzzled. "But, we weren't there, Cas."
"I know that," he said quietly. "But you were here," he said, pointing to his heart. Gail smiled. Cas looked at the canteen on the coffee table. "You also saved my life when you asked Father for that water for me. I don't know how to thank you, my darling. You are always thinking of me. Always."
"Of course I am," she responded. Then her lips twitched. "We're co-dependent, or haven't you heard?"
"I seem to recall something about that, but I wasn't really paying close attention," Cas said lightly. "I was too busy thinking about you, and how soon I might be able to kiss you."
She smiled again. "I think I might be able to fit that into my busy schedule," she said teasingly. "How about, oh, I don't know...NOW, and for the rest of our lives?"
Cas laughed softly, He reached for her, and she fell into his arms. They kissed for quite a while, making up for lost time. In-between kisses, Cas was apologizing, telling her that he had been confused, and he had been wrong. He owed her his life. He owed her everything.
Gail was soaking all of it up now, like a very thirsty sponge. His touch, his kiss, his smile..."You're yourself again, aren't you, Cas?" she asked him, touching his face.
"Yes, I am," he assured her. "I truly am. And I know what my mission is, now. I know what I have to do."
"What's that, Cas? What do you have to do?" she inquired, with a note of caution in her voice.
Cas sighed. The way he had been behaving before he'd left, he really couldn't blame her for the way she felt. "Don't worry, my love," he told her softly, stroking the back of her hands with his thumbs. From the moment she had allowed him to kiss her, he hadn't broken contact with her, not once. He had a lot to make up for. "I no longer intend to wage a Holy War," he continued. "I have no idea what I could have been thinking. In fact, I'll disband the Academies immediately, if you think I should do so."
"I don't know if you need to go that far," she said to him. "I still think it's a good idea to have a facility for Angels to learn how to fight. I don't think we should be pushovers, either. But I do think that we should go back to the way things were. Keep them open, but let everyone know that attendance is strictly voluntary, and tell everyone that we won't be looking to initiate any aggression. What do you say?"
"I say that's perfect," Cas said, nodding his head.
"Good. Now I'll give you the power back," Gail told him. "I have your blade in the bedroom. I'll just go and get it."
She started to rise from the couch, but Cas said, "Wait." She looked at him questioningly. "Before we do that, I want to talk to you for a moment," Cas said soberly. "I'm wondering if we shouldn't just leave things the way they are."
Gail's forehead wrinkled, but she kept quiet for the moment. Cas went on, "It seems as if every time I have too much power, I screw up," he said forlornly. "Maybe I shouldn't be God, at all. Maybe YOU should."
But Gail was shaking her head. "No, I can't, Cas. It's against the law. If you abdicated, the Office would go to Bobby. I'm not even technically supposed to have these powers right now. But I've just been holding them for you until you got back, so I figured it was OK to bend the rules in that instance."
Cas was still frowning. "I don't know if I can be trusted with that kind of power again, Gail," he said quietly. "Maybe I should just resign, then."
"What's your mission, Cas?" she asked him.
"To regain Paradise for those who have lost it, including myself," he answered automatically, and then his expression softened. "And, to love and care for my family," he added.
"And you won't be waging a Holy War?" she persisted.
"No," he said firmly. "As a very smart and adorable woman sang just recently: 'War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing'."
Gail did a double-take. Cas was smiling now. She didn't remember ever singing that to him. But it didn't matter. "Well then, that's good enough for me," she said. She took him by the hands and popped him into the bedroom. She sat him down on the bed and turned to the bureau. She opened the top drawer and took his blade out, and then she wrapped her hands around it, concentrating. A moment later, the white glow suffused the blade. She turned to Cas and placed it in his hands, and a few seconds later, the glow engulfed his body and then went out.
"Are you OK, Cas?" she asked him hesitantly. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine," he told her. "I'm really, really fine." He put his blade on the nightstand and then put his arms around her waist, pulling her down to sit on his lap. "We have a lot of making up to do, in very many areas," he said softly. "I'm very sorry about that, too." Then he kissed her, using his tongue this time. She responded immediately, and he slipped his hands under her top. "I hope you don't have anything planned for the rest of the day," Cas murmured, smiling. "I plan to keep you here for quite a while." He was already taking her clothes off and laying her down on the bed. His hands and tongue were everywhere on her body now. He waved his little finger, and his clothes came off immediately.
"That's cheating," she quipped. "Not that I'm complaining."
"Finally, an advantage to being God," Cas said, and the two of them laughed and laughed.
"I love you, sweetie," Gail said in his ear as he caressed her stomach. She felt butterflies at his touch. After all this time, she still felt as excited as if this was their first time.
"I love you too, my darling," he responded. "I need you. Thank you for not giving up on me."
"I expect to be rewarded handsomely for my devotion," she said mischievously, smiling.
"I think that can be arranged," Cas said softly, and his voice was just like silk. Now he was smiling again, too. "Let's see if my Godly powers can come in handy in that regard, as well."
His tongue trailed down her body, but then she stopped him. "I have a better idea," Gail said to him. "Let's be co-dependent." Both of them laughed again, and Cas maneuvered her until they were in that position. Seconds later, they were both crying out in pure pleasure.
Raguel wasn't able to see any of that, of course, nor would he have been interested, even if he could. But he HAD been watching them in the suite's living room, in Rowena's enchanted mirror. He had instructed her to set up a pocket mirror for him, so that he could take it with him wherever he went. Ever since he'd heard that Castiel was going to wage war on Hell, Raguel had been eager to find out any further information on the subject. Perhaps he would speak with Castiel directly, if he heard what he was hoping to hear. But now, Castiel was telling his wife that he was definitely NOT going to wage war. Raguel was astounded. Either Rowena had been sorely mistaken, or something had happened to change Castiel's mind.
Raguel popped over to Rowena's suite immediately, and told her what he had just seen and heard.
"But Gail said - " Rowena started to say, but Raguel interrupted her angrily. "I don't care what his wife said!" he exclaimed. "She is not God, HE is, and he just said that he will not do it! Instead, he talks about love, and Paradise!"
Rowena couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had really been hoping that Castiel was going to declare war on her son. Then she could sit back and watch the fireworks. Raguel had already promised her his protection. She had been looking forward to seeing how many of her enemies would suffer and perish in the war. But now, Raguel was telling her that there would be no war? No war at all? This was unbearable.
"Oh, there will be a war, dearie," she hissed. "I'm going to make sure of it."
Raguel's eyebrows raised. "Really? And how are you going to do that?"
She told him about the backup plan she had thought up. Rowena was very much like her son in that regard. Once she'd made up her mind that she really wanted something, her mind worked overtime until she came up with a way to get it. She'd figured that Castiel couldn't be counted on to follow through with his sabre-rattling. These days, Castiel was about as dangerous as a mewling kitten, in many respects. Not that she would tangle with him one-on-one, though, of course, especially if his precious wife was threatened and his blade was in his hand. But, war on such an epic scale, using Earth as the battlefield? Not too bloody likely, as her son the King of Hell would say.
But the wording of the Angels' recent conversation and also the verbiage Gail had used in the diner gave Rowena pause. She'd been thinking of a way to trigger the Holy War, in case Castiel backed out. What if Crowley had gotten wind of Castiel's plans? So Rowena had done a little digging, and she'd found out that Crowley not only knew what Castiel had been planning, but the King had warned God not to start the aggression, or his own loved ones would be the first to die.
"Well, that's all very well and good, but what difference does it make?" Raguel said to Rowena, frustrated. "Castiel is not going to start the aggression! He has said so himself!"
Rowena smiled. "Yes, but, what if Castiel has every reason to believe that my son has started the aggression? I believe they call it a pre-emptive strike, do they not? Then Castiel would have no choice but to respond in kind, would he?"
Raguel slowly started to smile. He rarely smiled, and Rowena was actually glad of that fact, because the expression looked so creepy and wrong on his face. "What exactly did you have in mind?" he asked her.
