"Jesus, Cas," Dean said, even though he knew that the angel had probably saved him, and hadn't meant to dump him on the ground.

"Sorry, Dean," Castiel said, looking weary, worn, face drawn and tired beneath the strain of sustaining his true form under duress.

He leant down, helped Dean up despite his weakened state, smiled when the hunter wrapped an arm round him instead to support him. Castiel leant into him gratefully, accepted the support, and Dean rubbed his back, his side, his arm, everything he could reach until the angel started to look strong again.

"Did you see it?" Castiel asked, looking up at him with trusting blue eyes that made Dean's heart ache.

"See what, Cas? You told me to keep my eyes closed," Dean said, with a sudden snort of laughter.

Castiel's surprising laugh rumbled in his chest, before he said - "Since when have you started taking orders from me, Dean?"

Dean chuckled back, but couldn't put into words just how he felt. He'd done it because Castiel had asked him to, because he'd thought there was reason to protect Dean and the hunter had respected, responded to that decision without question.

"Love made me do it, I guess," Dean said, uncomfortably, before changing the subject, eyes darting around the ruffled antique store in wide sweeping glances. "Is that it? Is it done? What did you see anyway?"

"It was a samurai, Dean. I saw a samurai, with such anger, sadness, pain coming from his spirit. He seemed restless," Castiel observed. "I don't think it's over. I think I scared him away for a time. I'm not strong enough - "

He didn't get the chance to carry on, neither did Dean have toe chance to respond to him, as the wind returned, swirling past them in eddying banks and turns, buffeting their sore, bruised bodies with every new twist in the breeze. From outside, Dean could hear the faint sounds of hammering at the front door, the even fainter sounds of shouting, voices that sounded like Bobby and Sam, calling urgently at the door.

Another voice joined theirs, speaking Japanese, unintelligible words assaulting Dean's ears in a deafening roar and he ducked beneath the weight of the anger and the pain held within the voice. He sheltered Castiel with his body, struggled when the angel tried to do the same to him, before both were finally satisfied with wrapping their arms equally around each other.

Castiel shouted something into the roaring wind, tried to match the Japanese voice in volume and strength, shouting words in Enochian that sounded more homely to Dean than the Japanese words did. Dean didn't know what he was supposed to do, so merely stood there, waiting for the end to come, deciding that if this was it, at least he was dying with the one he loved.

"Look, over there," Castiel suddenly said, in English, pointing over to the side of the room, made Dean squint in that direction, shading his eyes against the wind with his protective hand.

In the corner, where Castiel had indicated, stood an angel, watching, dark robes ever present against a strong body as he strode forward.

"Michael?" Dean asked, wondered if the Archangel had finally come to claim him, but Castiel beside him shook his head.

"No, Dean, that's not Michael, that's Azrael," he said, certainty making his voice strong and resolute against the uncertain wind still buffeting them.

"Azrael?" Dean questioned, the unfamiliar name hanging heavy on his lips.

"No time now, tell you later," Castiel assured him, eyes wide, face lit up from the angelic light pouring over them from Azrael in front of them.

"Castiel, my brother," Azrael said, in English.

"Azrael, good to finally meet you," Castiel responded, gaze wondrous as he stared upon the angel now standing before them.

"Do not worry, brother, I have not come for you or for your charge," Azrael said, face brooding, yet filled with such overwhelming kindness, it held Dean with such awe, it was breathtaking to see.

Castiel and Azrael conversed in Enochian, cutting Dean out from the conversation, yet strangely he didn't mind. It was a comfort to the hunter to finally see an angel that didn't seem opposed to Castiel, that seemed friendly, kindly even towards him, so the hunter gave his lover the time he needed with his much missed brethren.

"Close your eyes, Dean," Castiel suddenly insisted, covering Dean's face as further measure with one slender hand.

He turned Dean's face away, and the hunter rested his head against Castiel's shoulder, burrowed into the angel's coat as he felt his wing envelop them both in its soft, feathered embrace. Dean felt a backwash of heat, of light, of such purity, love, kindness and the overwhelming sounds of an angelic voice wrapping around them, hard to bear in the ever present wind still buffeting them.

It didn't take long for Dean to lose consciousness, finally fully supported by Castiel's strong, comforting arms around him ...


-tbc-