Dean watched the Angel look around the basement casually.

"Against my better judgment, I'm about to share a secret with you, Dean" the Angel said, his icy blue eyes finally meeting the hunter's. The vigilante's voice was low and rough, much like Castiel's had been. Maybe it was just an angel thing, to have ridiculously sexy voices or something.

"From a basement?" Dean asked skeptically, looking around.

"No. From even further underground."

Eden's vigilante bent over a sewage hole, lifting the heavy cover and shoving it aside. When the angel stepped away from the hole with a smirk, Dean leaned over it and looked down, gagging at the smell that rose up to meet him.

"Holy shit," he gasped, covering his nose.

"Well, I don't know about holy…" the angel trailed off with a smile. If Dean wasn't busy trying to keep down his dinner, he might have laughed.

"No way I'm going down there."

"No, you're right, Dean. Let's just march up to the palace—a hunter and a vagabond—and ask to see the king. I'm sure the guards will readily comply." Somehow the angel managed to convey a you-must-be-joking look even with a black mask covering most of his face.

"Shut up. Fine—you go down first, though."

"Fine," the angel shrugged, jumping into the hole.

Dean heard the flap of wings, but couldn't see anything that was happening beneath him.

"I would recommend you start with the ladder," a sarcastic voice drifted up from the darkness.

Dean snorted, finding the ladder in question and lowering himself down into the sewer. When he hit the ground, he found himself up to his ankles in an unknown liquid.

"Oh, are you fucking—this is the most disgusting thing I've ever done."

"Stop whining," the voice came from only a few inches right of him, making him jump a little.

"You can fly. I'd like to see you not whine if you had to walk in shit."

"Come on," the angel said, putting a hand on Dean's arm. Dean turned toward the voice, seeing a pair of faintly glowing blue eyes staring back at him. If he squinted, he could see the angel's silhouette, massive wings and all.

"Uh…" he croaked, looking down to where he felt the angel's hand still on his arm, "yeah."

Was he having a moment in a freaking sewer? He'd flirted in some truly inappropriate places before, but this definitely was a new low.

He followed after the angel, down a seemingly endless tunnel.

He shouldn't be having moments with anyone, he silently chastised himself. Castiel—his Castiel, the goddamn long-lost love of his life, was somewhere in this very city, under the same stars as him for the first time in fifteen years. He'd come to warn the city about Lucifer, sure, but now that he'd seen Cas again he wasn't going to let go so easily.

In over thirty years of living, nothing he'd done had ever brought him close to the regret he felt over letting Castiel go. He'd thought it over a million times. He could have moved to Eden with Cas. He should have. He shouldn't have let his fears and abandonment issues stop him.

And now Cas wasn't even Cas anymore. Dean thought he saw a spark of his old friend that morning, though. He was sure Castiel was in there somewhere, he just had to dig.

But then, on top of all the doubt, a sexy, mysterious, blue-eyed angel had to drop into his life to fuck things up even more. And he'd known this guy for what, all of twenty minutes?

"These are my only boots," he complained to take his mind off things.

"I'll buy you a new pair if it means you'll stop complaining," the angel promised.

"Deal," Dean chuckled.

"So is this how you get around? The mysterious vigilante, flying through the sewers," Dean laughed.

"People tend to overlook the sewage system."

"Huh. Don't you come out smelling like, you know, shit?"

"I can extend a portion of my grace to...keep the refuse off me," the Angel said, sounding a bit sheepish.

"Sweet. Any chance you can do that for me, too?"

The angel chuckled.

"Are we almost there?" Dean asked a few minutes later, unable to stay quiet.

"It does seem to go faster when I don't have to slow down for loud-mouthed humans," the angel agreed. Dean couldn't see his face, but he thought he heard a trace of fondness in the voice.

"Har har. So is that a yes?"

He suddenly walked into a wall of feathers. Dean took a step back, spitting a feather out of his mouth. "What the hell, dude?"

"This is it."

The angel flew up, shoving the cover off another manhole. A small square of pale blue light appeared on the otherwise black ceiling.

"You going to fit through that?" Dean asked.

The angel grabbed onto the ladder, and a moment later, his wings disappeared- just completely vanished. He climbed up through the whole, leaving Dean to follow him. "Guess so."

.

Castiel dusted some dirt off his trousers and looked around while he waited for Dean to climb up behind him.

Dean. His Dean. Easy as it was to fall back into their old banter, Castiel thought he might still be in shock. Or maybe he'd just imagined this entire thing, he'd finally had a mental breakdown and was locked up somewhere. It would make more sense than Dean being here, by his side once more.

"Where are we?" Dean asked, putting his hands on his knees and breathing heavily.

"You're a hunter. Aren't you supposed to be in good shape?" Cas asked, moving to look down a nearby hallway.

Dean shot him a wolfish grin. "I'm in great shape. I can prove it, if you want," he smirked, winking at Castiel. "But don't you smell that, dude? Fresh air. I've never noticed how awesome fresh air is before."

"I smell something," Cas gave Dean a pointed look.

"Hey! Are you saying I smell?"

"That is what I was implying, yes. You do have what appears to be human bodily waste all over your boots."

"Well if I do, it's your fault. And you never answered my question."

"We're in the palace washrooms, I think," Cas said, motioning for Dean to follow him.

"You think? You don't know?"

"I'm not familiar with this corner of the castle," Cas paused at the end of the hallway, looking around before leading Dean up a dark staircase. He didn't like being in the castle as the vigilante. Normally, his two lives seemed worlds apart. But this was mixing his two lives together, and it was blurring lines that should be clearly defined.

And now he was going to have to talk to Michael. He could only hope that the mask, paired with Michael's disinterest in Castiel, would work in his favor.

"But you're familiar with the rest of it? And what's the plan here, exactly?"

"We talk to the King."

Dean laughed. "Yeah. Thanks, genius."

"You don't have to be mean."

The sound of Dean laughing again came from close behind him, bringing an involuntary smile to his lips.

"I meant—what are we going to do, break into the King's bedroom, say 'sorry, I get that you're in your pajamas and all, and it's the middle of the night, but just so you know—Lucifer's on his way here to kill you.' I mean, I'm all for rushing into things—"

"I know you are."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"O-kay? Anyways, I'm usually all for rushing into things, but this seems a little drastic."

"The King, I've discovered recently, supports my work. When we explain the situation, he will understand our trespassing. The rest of the castle? Not so much, so keep your voice down. If we're caught, I don't know about you, but I'll be killed on sight."

Dean cringed apologetically.

"The King's chambers are down this way."

Castiel prowled down the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out exactly where they were. They were on the right floor, he was sure, but he didn't know if they were in the east wing or the west wing. They stopped as the hallway ended in a T.

"Right or left?" Dean asked from behind him.

"Right?"

"Where would we be without your guidance?" Dean snorted.

Before Cas could respond, Dean's eyes widened and he grabbed a handful of feathers, using it to pull Cas back into the hallway they were coming from. Castiel gasped as a jarring shock of electricity shot down his wing and through his entire body, and his body went limp, yielding to Dean's pull.

Dean pushed the angel into a dark, shadowy corner, pressing a hand over his mouth. A whimper slipped past Castiel's lips, his body revolting at the feel of a hand tangled in his wing and a warm body pressed against his own.

"Shhh," the hunter breathed. The vigilante silently glared at Dean, fighting to think past Dean's hypnotic scent and his lips, which were only a hair's breadth away, but then he heard what Dean's ears must have picked up on: two male voices, steadily getting louder.

Cas shook his wing free, wrapping them tightly around both human and hunter to let them melt further into the shadowy corner. Hopefully, if whoever was approaching passed their way, as long they didn't look too closely at the shadows nothing would look amiss.

Dean and Castiel listened as the voices grew closer, barely daring to breathe when the voices were practically on top of them. Castiel's black wings saved them from being seen, but they unfortunately also prevented them from being able to see. The darkness only heightened the sensations Castiel was trying not to think about—the hard line of Dean's body pressed tightly against his own, muscles tense as he strained to hear, the warm ghosting of Dean's breath against his ear, the muggy thickness in the air that the tight, enclosed space created.

Cas lifted his head and leaned forward, his lips brushing against Dean's ear. "Does it sound like they're gone?" he breathed, barely making any sound.

A shudder wracked through Dean's body and he nodded, the light stubble on his jaw grazing Castiel's lips.

Reluctantly, Cas pulled his wings back so Dean could escape their embrace. Dean stood, so their bodies were no longer pressed together, but didn't step back, instead studying Castiel's lips with a guilty expression.

The green eyes flicked to Castiel's wings. "Sorry," he said, unthinkingly reaching out to smooth the twisted feathers. Castiel hissed, wings twitching away from Dean's hand. "Shit. Sorry," he said again, yanking his head back like he'd been stung.

"No, that's—it…that doesn't hurt," Cas said, lowering his head and looking up at Dean, lips pressing together in a firm line.

"Oh," Dean said, a little confused. His eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh. Seriously?" he laughed.

"Don't laugh," Cas frowned. "I don't see how it's funny."

"Naw, man, it's just…unexpected. Is that an, um, erogenous zone for all angels, or just you?" Dean snickered.

Cas turned to glare at him. "There are a lot of nerve endings in the underside of our wings, Dean."

"Sure, sure," Dean said easily, following when Cas stormed off in what he hoped was the direction of the King's chambers.

.

"Chuck. Chuck? Chuck. Chuck!"

"Huh?" Chuck woke up with a start, arms flailing wildly, to find Becky's face inches from his own. "What? What time is it?"

"I don't know, but there was a knock on our door and now it sounds like two people are arguing outside it," Becky whispered loudly.

"If they need anything, they'll knock again," Chuck grumbled, turning over to go back to sleep.

"Or," Becky hissed, "they're assassins and they're arguing about how to kill us!"

"I won't let anyone assassinate you, Becky."

"Then get up and do something!"

"Fine," he conceded after Becky's fifth time poking him in the side.

He got up, fumbling around in the darkness. He found something long and somewhat weapon-shaped and hid behind the door. Sure enough, he heard two low voices bickering just outside it.

"If you're planning on hanging around," Becky called loudly at a nod from Chuck, "you might as well come in!"

The door swung open, and when the first figure took a cautious step forward, Chuck stepped out of his hiding place and swung.

He didn't expect a hand to be able to shoot out and catch the weapon mid-swing.

Then he noticed the massive black wings and narrowed his eyes. "Ca—hnngh." The other hand, the one not gripping the weapon, covered Chuck's mouth.

"Hello, Chuck," the familiar gravelly voice said.

When Chuck nodded in understanding, Castiel removed his hand from the King's mouth.

"Hey, sorry about the guards, um…your highness," a man behind Castiel said.

Chuck peered around the two intruders, seeing his night guards lying on the ground.

"Oh my God," Chuck ran his hands through his hair, "did you kill them?"

"They're unconscious," Castiel said. "Apologies." The man behind him chuckled.

"Wow," Becky was suddenly squealing, climbing out of bed. Her attire reminded Chuck that he was still in his dressing gown, and he felt a blush spread to his cheeks. Becky rushed over to Castiel, shaking his hand enthusiastically. "I knew it. Chuck told me, of course, vigilante," she winked, "I am a huge fan. You have no idea."

"Um," the angel said, extricating his hand from the Queen's grip, "thank you."

"Okay, hold on," Chuck began, squinting at Castiel, "Why did the Vigilante and—uh, sorry?"

"Dean," the other man supplied, offering Chuck his hand.

"Ah. Nice to meet you. Wait, no, it's not—why did you two break into my room in the middle of the night?"

"We have news, highness, and I don't think you're going to like it," Dean said.

"Oh. Okay," Chuck clutched at his head, "Okay. Just…let me change, and maybe we can move this elsewhere?"

"Michael should also be present for this," Castiel said. Chuck glanced at Castiel's wings.

"Michael?" Chuck's eyebrows shot up. Castiel was never keen on Michael, and Cas knew Michael sure as hell wasn't keen on the Vigilante. "Well this really can't be good."

.

Becky fetched several guards—one to prepare the King's study, one to wake Michael, and two to take care of the unfortunate guards Dean knocked unconscious.

Michael met them in the King's study, looking sleepier and more disheveled than Castiel had ever seen him. When he saw Cas, however, he charged, tackling the vigilante to the ground. It took the combined efforts of Dean, Chuck, and four guards to tear the two angels apart. Castiel almost lost his mask in the scuffle, and Michael lost a handful of feathers.

When things had settled, Michael stood glaring at Castiel, held back by Chuck. The archangel's white wings arched high above his head threateningly, the feathers standing on end to make them look even larger.

Castiel's position mirrored Michael's, though he was held back by Dean's hand gently resting on his shoulder rather than the King's entire weight thrown into keeping him still. While Cas wasn't an archangel, his wings were just as large, if not larger than Michael's, and their pure, inky blackness definitely made them more intimidating.

"Michael, let me explain," Chuck said, pulling the archangel to face him. The King lowered his voice, but Dean and Cas caught phrases like "on our side" and "appreciate it if you would support me."

"I was holding back," Castiel muttered to Dean while Chuck calmed Michael. "When he attacked me, I was holding back."

"I'm sure you were," Dean laughed.

"I didn't want to hurt him," Cas smiled.

"Uh-huh."

Michael turned back to them, reluctantly offering Castiel his hand. "It's…interesting to finally meet you in person."

Castiel shook Michael's hand firmly.

Cas worked hard to create two opposite identities. When he was the vigilante, he consciously altered his mannerisms to be less Castiel-like, and vise versa. It wasn't difficult. As Castiel, he was careful to remain timid and gentle at all times. It was easy for him to switch to the other extreme as the Angel of Darkness.

Still, he held his breath as the other angel sized him up, only relaxing when the archangel turned to Dean. If Michael hadn't recognized him right away, Castiel wasn't worried that he would now. "You were in the palace earlier today, weren't you?"

Everyone's attention turned to Dean, and the human fidgeted nervously. "I, uh, yeah. I was trying to see the King, but no one would let me. I'm Dean."

"Dean," Michael repeated, looking the human up and down. It was a very different look from the one he gave Castiel. "I'm Michael."

"Dean brings news," Castiel interjected, "Michael, it involves your brother."

Michael's attention snapped back over to Castiel, as did Chuck's.

"And what have you got to do with this? You're a vigilante, a criminal."

Castiel squared his jaw, his eyes not leaving Michael's. "Dean's news concerns all of us. Like it or not, Michael, this is as much my city as it is yours. Perhaps even more so."

"Okay," Dean interjected before Michael could respond, clapping his hands together and chuckling nervously. Chuck sent him a relieved glance. "Maybe we should sit down before we get this party started?"

Castiel sat beside Dean, shifting his wings and trying not to look as awkward as he felt. He'd never been in the King's study before—Castiel usually wasn't welcomed in the King's business meetings. He was a part of the court for decoration, really.

Also, the room was brightly lit, giving him very little cover. It made him feel exposed. And sitting next to Dean didn't help him relax.

"Alright, Dean. Tell us what you know."

Dean told Michael and Chuck everything he'd told Castiel earlier.

"When you say Lucifer is coming with an army," Michael began when he'd finished, leaning forward intently, "how many?"

His interest in Dean's report seemed to dissipate any antipathy he still felt for the vigilante. For now.

"If the reports are to be believed, about four hundred demons, which, you know, is huge for a demon army. He's counting on the element of surprise, though, and—"

"And he's an arrogant dick," Michael provided.

"That about covers it," Dean chuckled, smirking at Michael.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. That wasn't flirting, was it? He didn't even know Michael experienced sexual attraction, but the way the angel was looking at Dean left an unpleasant taste in his mouth and a twist in his gut.

"We're lucky to have you, Dean," Michael said, giving him a warm smile that looked horribly out of place on Michael's usually stern face. And it was, to Castiel's chagrin, charming. "Thank you."

That was definitely flirting. Castiel's wings flared out possessively around the back of the couch, the long black feathers around the top standing on end. Chuck and Dean, if they noticed, didn't understand what the gesture meant, but Michael raised an eyebrow at Castiel's claim, a predatory smile on his lips.

"Just doing my job," Dean shrugged, completely oblivious to the power struggle between the two angels.

"How many do we have in the city guard?" Chuck asked.

"One hundred, two hundred," Michael guessed with a frown. "But they're all human. And more used to breaking up quarrels in the market than fighting off demons."

"But we've also got angels. And we have the advantage with our defenses, right?"

Michael nodded. "I don't think our situation is hopeless, at least. But I can't promise we won't experience great losses."

"Shit," Chuck said, scratching at his beard. "So, what do we do?"

"First thing's first, we have to get you out of the city."

"What? I'm not leaving."

"With all due respect, your highness," Cas interjected, leaning forward, "Lucifer is coming here to kill you. He has a penchant for revenge, as I'm sure you're aware, so you have to know that you're the first person he will come after if he takes control of Eden."

"Not that we'll let it get that far," Michael growled.

"Of course," Castiel nodded. "But it's wise to be safe, nonetheless."

"I agree," Michael marveled, his expression suggesting he was shocked such a thing was even possible.

"They're right, your highness. Sioux Falls is a day's ride from here, and the hunter's organization is based there. It'll be safe, and I have friends you can stay with until we get rid of Lucifer and his demons."

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to," Dean shrugged, "but if you die, what happens to the rest of the country? You're not being a coward by leaving, you're thinking of your people."

"If you put it that way, I guess…I guess I have to agree," Chuck sighed.

"Awesome."

"You'll leave tomorrow, then," Michael decided.

"It may be wise to sneak him out," Cas said. "Lucifer must have spies in the city—most likely, in this castle. It would be best if nobody sees him leave."

"Good idea," Michael nodded, watching Castiel with a sliver more respect.

"Do you know how to smuggle him out?" Dean asked Cas, "He's going to need guards, too."

Cas nodded. "Keep the party small, though."

"We can send two angels with you," Michael offered.

"I'll send two of my men as well," Cas added. Michael looked as if he was about to argue. "They're trustworthy, and good fighters."

"No," Chuck shook his head, "no angels. We need everyone we can get for the fight."

"Samandriel?" Cas asked Michael, ignoring Chuck, "He's inexperienced in large-scale battles, but he's skilled at one-on-one combat."

"How do you know that?" Michael asked.

"It's my job to know things," Castiel shrugged.

Dean shifted in his seat, looking like he wanted to say something.

"Samandriel and Castiel?" Michael asked Chuck. "They're the most inexperienced among us—" Cas frowned, "—but they're still perfectly capable of protecting you."

"That sounds like a great idea," Dean offered.

That bastard.

"Castiel?" Chuck squeaked, throwing a nervous look in Castiel's direction. "I don't know, maybe I only need one angel."

"But you want Becky to come, too, I'm guessing?" Dean pushed, "A personal guard of four seems pretty measly for both the King and Queen."

"My men are just as tough as angels, and a larger party will only attract attention," Castiel argued.

"We'll leave the city early morning," Dean shrugged, "have horses waiting down the road. The larger party will be worth the risk if it means the King and Queen are safer."

Michael nodded his agreement.

"We?" Castiel clarified. He narrowed his eyes at Dean, trying to figure out what game the hunter was playing.

"If I ride with to Sioux Falls, I can come back to Eden with a hundred seasoned hunters."

Michael smiled. "You can guarantee this?"

"One hundred is the minimum," Dean nodded.

"Impressive," Michael smiled.

"What do you think about the two angel escort thing?" Chuck asked, eyeing Castiel.

Cas sighed. "If this Cassiel won't be missed, then—"

"Castiel," Dean corrected harshly. Cas, Michael, and Chuck all turned to look at him. "Uh," Dean coughed, "It's Castiel."

"If Castiel won't be missed, then it might be a good idea."

He would just have to double back and return with Dean's hunters.

"Great," Dean beamed, "I'm glad we have all that decided. But can we maybe talk about strategy or something?"

.

"Dude, can we take the normal way back?" Dean whined, "If I have to subject my boots to that again, I'm pretty sure it'll soak through to my socks, and no way I'm going anywhere with shitty socks."

"I can't just walk down the street—"

"Put the wings away and you'll be fine. Seriously."

Cas frowned, but decided to let Dean lead the way. He tucked his wings away, walking by his human's side.

"It might help if you lost the mask."

"I'm not going to 'lose the mask.'"

"Suit yourself. I think that went well," Dean was saying. "It's nice to know Michael thinks we have a chance—"

"Right. Michael," Cas growled.

"You okay there, pal?"

"I don't like Michael. He's…he's an assbutt."

Meg would be ashamed of that one.

Dean laughed. "They're all assbutts up in the palace, dude. Every last one of 'em."

"He was flirting with you, you realize."

"Yeah. 'Course I realize. And you sound mighty jealous for someone who won't even tell me his name."

Castiel glanced sharply at Dean, but saw no trace of annoyance in Dean's features. Before he realized what he was doing, he'd grabbed Dean by the arm and pulled him into a side alley.

Dean stumbled a little, watching Cas with wide eyes.

Cas pressed the human to the wall much like he had that morning. This time, however, there was an entirely different current circulating between their bodies.

Dean only had time to gasp before Castiel's lips were on his with a hungry desperation, pinning him against the wall. It took Dean two seconds to begin kissing Castiel back, licking into the angel's mouth and twisting his hands into Castiel's hair with a loud moan.

This was something Castiel had dreamed about doing—if he was honest with himself—his entire life. Even here in Eden, he'd occasionally find himself thinking about Dean's full, pink lips. And, if he admitted it to himself, he'd always known his life would lead him here—to this wild and indescribable human with the glowing soul that made Castiel want to risk everything, to give up everything, just to keep him near.

The hunter tasted bitter and sweet all at once, perfect yet beautifully flawed. Broken and pure. Dean wrapped his arms tightly around Castiel, hands running up and down his back—one stopping at his shoulder blades, the other tightly gripping his ass, pulling him closer, and Cas decided this was a heat he never wanted to be without ever again, no matter what he had to lose in order to get it.

All too quickly, Dean shoved him away, looking deliciously dazed and confused. He half-blinked at Castiel, mouth hanging slightly open. "I…uh, not that I'm complaining, really, but what was that for?" he asked.

"I was curious," Castiel answered truthfully, head tilting to the side.

"Oh. Well, um, I'm flattered, really, but I…" Dean walked backward, almost falling over a garbage can. "I can't. I'm sorry." The human's eyes were wide and wild.

"There's someone else?" Castiel asked, unable to help himself.

"Yes," Dean breathed. "Sorry."

"I understand." Cas gave him a gentle smile. Dean wasn't referring to him. He couldn't be—they hadn't seen each other for fifteen years. In that time, Dean had probably found someone else, while they apart. Someone perfect for him, someone that could fit his every need. Someone that wasn't Castiel. "I probably will not see you until you return from Sioux Falls, Dean Winchester, so have a safe trip."

"You too." Dean cringed. "I mean, uh…you know what I mean. G'night."

"Goodnight."

.

.

A/N: Not long until Dean finds out the truth, promise. I'm not going to draw the discovery out :) Let me know what you think! I love reviews!