"So run this by me again," Dean said, barely righting himself as he stumbled over his tenth fallen tree branch since entering the disaster zone of a forest that surrounded his former gravesite.

Castiel sighed as he picked his way over the twigs and sticks that littered the ground. "My Grace is sealed inside a tree, which should be standing somewhere around here. It will take a pure soul or a once pure soul to extract it."

"Define a pure soul," Sam said.

"Someone who has remained taintless. Or one who has a place in their being where the Grace will fit, a place where it once belonged." Cas turned and fixed the hunter with a sympathetic look. "Of course, some taints are no fault of the tainted."

"So I've been told."

"And how exactly does one extract this magical angel juice?" Dean asked.

"With a simple touch," Cas said. He shook his head. "I'm starting to see what you mean about setting some ground rules. It's too easy." He climbed over a tree trunk, frowning at the destruction around them. "I'll have to bring it up at the next board meeting."

The number of half-standing trees finally began to thin, giving way to decimated trunks. Standing tall before them was an imposing oak, the only thing in the remnant of the forest that was fully alive and covered in thick green leaves. They stood at the edge of the destruction for a moment, staring at the sunlight streaming through the tall branches.

"Dude," Dean breathed. "That's a sissy angel tree."

Cas grinned, nodding toward a small hole in the ground to the left of the tree and under a makeshift wooden cross. "And that's a horrible excuse for an escape route. You could have done much better."

"Contractions, swearing, and a sense of humor? I just don't know about you anymore, Cas."

The angel shook his head. "Things will be back to normal soon enough, Dean." He walked into the clearing, the brothers following him, spreading out on either side, flanking him at a distance.

"You don't have to do this. We can find some other way."

"Dean's right," Sam seconded. "If you really want to stay like this-"

"Unfortunately, Sam," Cas cut him off, "I don't think that's an option anymore." He pointed to the other side of the clearing, where a pale figure in dark clothing had just emerged from the trees. Lucifer gazed at them calmly, a smile working its way across his face before he waved a hand at them, sending them flying back, hurtled in three different directions, into the scattering of dead and dying trees.

They'd been separated, separated with enough force to crack tree trunks and send vision spinning toward darkness. Separated with enough force to lose each other, seeing only Lucifer as he approached the tree, his hand outstretched, lips curled into a sneer.

"Can't wait to see what you boys have done with the place," he muttered to himself. The smirk faded from his face as he stopped halfway across the clearing, his eyes turning to stare at something hidden within the trees, narrowing, glaring. "Samuel."

Sam stood at the edge of the clearing, one hand outstretched toward the Devil, the other clamped tight to his forehead in what he assumed to be a sorely needed preemptive strike.

"Sammy, Sammy," the demon cooed, turning his attention fully from the tree and to the psychic. "You really think that's gonna work on me?" He took a step toward the hunter, smiling at the way Sam faltered. "I could break you, boy. Break you right in two."

Sam's hands dropped to his side in defeat. "Yeah," he said. "I know."

"Then why try to stop me?"

"I wasn't trying to stop you."

Lucifer turned in time to see Castiel break from the trees and into the clearing, running toward the tree that held his Grace at a sprint. He also saw something that the angel didn't, another body going through the exact same motions, running desperately toward the center of the gravesite in hopes of saving the world from destruction. Both Sam and the demon realized the same thing in the same instant: they couldn't see each other.

Dean and Cas reached the tree simultaneously, reaching out and grabbing the trunk, their fingers caressing cool bark. That was the moment that their eyes met, the moment before the world exploded in a shower of warmth and light, the moment that Lucifer screamed and fled in defeat and Sam covered his eyes out of necessity.

-.-

Dean woke up, rolled out of bed, stumbled to the bathroom, and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Oh, yeah. He was feeling awesome.

He hefted himself to his feet, swiped a hand over his mouth, glanced in the mirror, and froze. He leaned closer to the glass, cocking his head to one side, unsure he was seeing what he was seeing.

His eyes. His eyes were different. They were blue. Deep, dark blue. The kind of blue that countless swooning chicks could get lost in. But that was wrong, because Dean Winchester's eyes were most definitely not blue. Green, maybe. Or hazel. Brown if the light hit them right. But not blue. Never blue.

He blinked and they were back to normal. Green or brown or hazel or whatever. Not blue. He blinked again. Still not blue. He considered that a good sign.

Dean shook his head. Hell of a night. Hell of a dream. Angels and the Apocalypse and Grace trees and Lucifer. Wow. Wait until he told Sam. He opened the door and headed back into the room, stopping in his tracks when he saw Sam sitting on the bed with a very pedestrian angel.

"Cas," Dean muttered, "you changed your clothes."

Castiel glanced down at himself before looking back up at Dean. "I've been wearing this for the past couple of days, ever since you found me in the diner." He narrowed his eyes, too blue, unblinking. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Except for the weird End of Days dreams and the vomit and the fact that my eyes are changing color. And you're back."

"I never left."

"No." Dean shook his head. "You were gone for two months."

"Dean-"

"Unless it wasn't a dream?"

"Took you long enough," Sam muttered, glaring at him. "You idiot. What were you thinking?"

Dean shrugged, dropping down onto the bed opposite them as his legs gave out under the weight of reality. "I dunno, Sam. Maybe that Lucifer going back to Heaven could be a bad thing?"

"Cas had it covered."

"Not from where I was standing."

"Yeah, I noticed."

The angel nodded. "We'd been thrown to opposite sides of the clearing. We had no way of seeing each other."

"So what now?" Dean asked. "What happens? You go back to Heaven and warn them and Lucifer gets ganked and we all live happily ever after? Or did it not work?"

"It's complicated."

Dean looked nervously between them. "How complicated?"

Sam grinned. "Oh, you're gonna love this."

"What?" Dean asked. "Is it still in the tree?"

"No," Cas said. "It's not in the tree."

"So you're an angel again."

"Not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm still human."

"Am I an angel?"

Castiel smiled. "No, Dean. You're not an angel."

"Then who's the angel?"

Sam leaned forward, a grim smile on his face. "This is the good part."

"Both of us."

Dean shook his head. "But you just said-"

"And neither of us. Grace was not meant to be divided like that, split between two souls. The schism caused it to weaken."

"What's that mean?"

Cas sighed. "Basically, we're no different than Sam. We're human. We're just… special, I guess you could say."

"How special?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Not special enough to be of any use to the forces of Heaven. Certainly not special enough to warn anyone of Lucifer's plans. We're on our own."

"Someone's gotta realize-"

"They're busy," Sam said. "We watched the news while you were napping. Guess what? The US just declared war on Korea, threatened half the Middle East with nukes, and the president is about to push the red button on Iraq once and for all. An earthquake actually started splitting California from the rest of the continent, kicking off looting like you haven't seen since Katrina hit. A whole section of China was quarantined with some weird illness they still haven't diagnosed, and the entire animal population of northern Africa dropped dead for no apparent reason five hours ago."

"So?"

"So? Dean, don't you get it? Worldwide war, earthquakes, lawlessness, disease, famine. They're all signs of the Apocalypse. Lucifer's creating a distraction. He's keeping Heaven busy so he can go after what he really wants."

"But we got it," Dean said, "so he can't want the tree anymore."

"He doesn't," Cas said, his voice tired. "He wants us."