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Chapter 9

Dean wasn't out for long, coming to after a couple minutes and blinking the colored spots out of his eyes. He groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing his cheek where the bone had been painfully pressed up against the concrete. The memories of what had happened before he was knocked out flashed through his mind in a matter of seconds and then he was on his feet, trying to stay upright despite the violent way the room was spinning.

The first thing he noticed was Bobby, sitting down against the far wall and nursing his torn-up, badly bleeding legs. When they made eye contact, the older hunter gave a slight nod to tell Dean that he was alright. He immediately turned his attention to finding his brother, whipping his head around when a low, Sam-sounding groan reached his ears. The gigantic body and lanky limbs sprawled out on the floor seemed relatively unharmed, which made Dean relax fractionally, but when he noticed the growing red spot on the front of his brother's overshirt, he tried to rush toward Sam, taking two steps before realizing that it was a terrible idea – his shaky legs gave out and sent him crashing down to the hard floor.

A pair of strong, warm hands caught him just before his face met the concrete. He reached around blindly and grabbed at the arms holding him up, trying to release the iron grip they had on his shoulders.

"Take it easy, Dean-o, it's just me," a familiar voice soothed.

"Gabriel?" he croaked. "What –"

"Not now," the archangel interrupted sharply. "Stay here." And then he was alone again, the hands steadying him disappeared, leaving him gasping on the floor, trying to catch his breath and clear his head to figure out what the hell was going on.

As the blood rushing in his ears calmed down a little and he finally remembered how to breathe normally, Dean suddenly recognized another voice coming from behind him – a low, gravelly one that he was much, much happier to hear.

"...threatened my charge as well. You said you would help us, and you lied," Castiel was saying in a dangerous, menacing tone. Just the presence of his angel immediately lessened Dean's panic and allowed him to think straight, if only for a moment. He began crawling toward Sam, checking over him for any other injuries and making sure that he was alright. Besides a massive headache and a shallow gash on his ribcage, he seemed to be okay, thank God. Dean shrugged out of his jacket and tore off his overshirt, balling it up and pressing it into his brother's chest to stem the blood flow.

"It was for your own good, Castiel," snarled yet another voice, one that Dean had heard before but couldn't quite place. "You are unaware of the consequences of your own actions. I am trying to help you. You are blinded by these emotions that you are not accustomed to feeling."

"Oh, would you give it a rest?" Dean heard Gabriel sigh casually. "You don't have any right to tell Cassie about his emotions, you great big bag of egotistical dicks."

"I am not the one disobeying our father's orders," the voice snapped. "You're overstepping your bounds, Gabriel. You are not invincible nor are you above me, despite what you may so naively believe."

"Lemme tell you something, Raphael," Gabriel growled, losing all of his typical nonchalant swagger in place of a fiery anger – and ah, there it is, Dean realized. Raphael. But wait – what was he doing here? In fact, what were any of the angels doing here? What happened to all the demons? What the hell was going on?

"You set up this whole thing just to prove yourself," Gabriel continued, rage seething out of him so intensely that Dean could practically feel it, and he wasn't even looking at the guy. "But look around. We did our jobs, even though you sabotaged us. We're the ones who cleaned this whole mess up, and you proved nothing except for how low you are willing to stoop for power. Consorting with demons to bring down your own brothers? Really, Raphael? And you're lecturing us about father's orders. I can only imagine how proud of you he must be."

"You are ripping apart everything that has held this garrison together by disobeying my orders," Raphael warned the furious archangel. "Without obedience, there will be chaos. You have lived by your own rules for too long, Gabriel. You have tainted our brother with your selfish actions, and you have the nerve to tell me you are proud of this?"

"How many angels would break out of a ring of holy fire to save their charges, huh, Raphael?" Gabriel roared. "Would you be willing to give everything to protect a human, even one as important as the Winchesters? Because Castiel and I have given everything, Raphael. To carry out the responsibilities that our father gave us!"

"Attachment to your charges will only cause you to become lazy with their protection," Raphael insisted angrily. "Focus on their happiness can only distract you from their safety."

"No." Castiel finally spoke after staying silent for so long. His voice was quiet and even, a stark contrast from the passionate yelling of his brothers, but it laid a tense silence over the entire room. "I would give my life before I let anything happen to Dean. You are wrong."

"How dare you, Castiel," Raphael spat. "After all that I have done for you, you dare to defy me this way."

"I forgive you and do not wish to disobey you," the angel sighed, "but I can only do what I know is right." The sadness evident in his voice made Dean want to run to him and hold him tight. He still had no idea what was going on, but he could tell that this was difficult for Castiel, and he wanted it to stop. He just wanted it to be over.

"Aw, see, Cassie's not even mad at you. Me, on the other hand," Gabriel drawled, a lighthearted tilt to his voice though the rage was still bubbling underneath. "You cross me again, and I swear to you, you will regret it."

Dean heard the archangel snap his fingers and suddenly a spray of water was pounding down on his back. Turning around and gently repositioning his brother's head in his lap, he finally looked up to see the angels standing stiffly, Castiel and Gabriel watching unmoving as the ring of fire around Raphael flickered faintly and died. Bobby was still sitting down on the other side of the large room, mouth hanging open in what Dean suspected was confusion to match his own at the events that had just unfolded in front of him.

Raphael stepped outside of the now-extinguished circle of holy fire and made a move toward the brothers huddled together against the wall before turning his head over his shoulder to the angels watching him. "May I?" he asked, with just a hint of sarcasm. Gabriel narrowed his eyes, but gave a small nod of permission, which Castiel mimicked. The archangel continued walking toward the hunters and stopped directly in front of them, looking down with a strange glint in his eyes that Dean couldn't read.

"I owe you boys an apology," he rumbled, seemingly sincere. "I never wished you harm."

Sam groaned softly and Dean tightened his hold around his brother.

"You have been of great help to us, and I must extend my gratitude to you. However," Raphael continued, causing the older Winchester to tense up nervously, "your corruption of these angels has gone too far, and I am afraid I cannot allow it to continue. For that, I am truly sorry."

A long silver knife appeared in Raphael's hand and Dean cried out, shifting in his awkward position on the floor and trying to shield Sam as best he could. He watched, face flushed with anticipation and terror as the knife descended on them, almost in slow motion as it drew closer, and closer...

He flinched when the sharp blade pierced through his chest, mouth falling open and a gasp of surprise hitching in his throat, eyes frozen wide in shock. His hands flew to his stomach and he swayed forward, almost falling, but Gabriel held him up with a firm hand on his shoulder. "I told you that you would regret it," he heard the far-away voice of the archangel hiss from behind him, filled with fiery anger and venom. He fell back, laying flat on the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling, and the knife dropped beside him with a clatter. A bright white light filled the room, blowing out the glass in the windows with a high-pitched rushing sound and a loud crash. And then it was over.

Castiel rushed to Dean's side, cupping the freckled cheeks in his palms and searching his face with unmasked concern. "Dean," he choked out, though his heart was leaping up into his throat and restricting his voice.

"Cas," Dean responded hoarsely, staring up into his angel's eyes for a few drawn-out seconds before reaching up and wrapping his arms around Castiel's shoulders, holding on for dear life and trying desperately to hold back the broken sob that was threatening to escape.

Raphael lay spread-eagled on the floor, gray eyes dull and lifeless. The shadow of his wings was stretched out across the floor and the archangel blade protruding through his chest glowed dimly. Gabriel gazed down at his brother sadly, knowing that it had been necessary to kill him, yet wishing that he had been able to understand.

"Gabriel," he heard a small, weak voice cough. Immediately he turned and fell to the floor beside Sam, caressing the long golden hair with one hand and placing another lightly over the still bleeding wound on his hunter's chest, which he healed instantly.

"Hey, Sam," he smiled, though he there were tears gathering in his eyes. It was too much, losing his brother and almost losing his hunter all within the same few seconds. His heart felt like it was going to split in two at the devastation and overwhelming relief he felt all at once. When the long, muscled arms surrounded him and held him close, he all but melted against Sam, clinging to him just as tightly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, muffled into Gabriel's neck.

Both angels cradled their hunters safe in their arms, holding onto one another, relaxing as their violently shaken worlds gradually settled and fell back into place.

"Hate to ruin your Lifetime movie moment," Bobby coughed awkwardly from the other side of the room as he tried and failed to stand because of his damaged legs, "but uh... I could use a little help here."

Dean scrambled to his feet, pulling Castiel up with him and hurriedly wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. He made his way over to the older hunter and tugged him up onto his feet, keeping an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady until he got his balance again.

"You need me to stitch you up?" he asked, glancing at the wound on Bobby's forehead and the dried blood on his ripped up pants.

"Nah, I'm fine," Bobby waved him off. "It'll take more'n a couple scratches to take out this ol' dog."

Dean chuckled, still keeping a hold on Bobby as he helped him limp over to where Sam and Gabriel were still on the floor. "You girls good, or you need us to give you a minute?"

Sam glared up at his brother, but released the archangel and stood up anyway. "Shut up, jerk."

"Bitch," Dean retorted, grinning.

"What the hell was that about?" Bobby suddenly asked, getting straight to the point and looking expectantly between Castiel and Gabriel.

Castiel glanced over at his brother and began slowly, "Raphael set a trap for Gabriel and I so that he could prove that our attachments to Sam and Dean would be detrimental to carrying out our duties. He arranged a deal with those demons to lead you here while he trapped us in a ring of holy fire, so that the demons would kill you all and we would no longer have distractions from Heaven," he finished matter-of-factly, face completely void of emotion, as if he had been talking about the weather rather than the death of the three slack-jawed hunters standing in front of him.

"But we busted out and saved all your asses," Gabriel added with a cheeky grin. "No need to thank us, just looking out for our favorite pair of muttonheads." He ruffled Sam's hair fondly.

"What happened to the demons?" Dean asked, though he had a slight suspicion.

"Cassie took 'em out," Gabriel confirmed for him, flashing a proud smile at his brother. "Saw you on the ground and got his feathers all ruffled up. I'd watch out if I were you, Dean, he's a little protective."

"Like you aren't," Sam nudged the archangel, gazing up at him with a small smile and reddened cheeks.

"Okay, seriously, I'm done with all the chick-flick crap," Dean announced, making a face at Sam. "Let's get outta this place before Samantha here grows a pair of tits."

"Sounds good to me," Bobby agreed, hobbling toward the door. Sam rolled his eyes, but held his tongue in favor of lacing his fingers with Gabriel's and tugging him along toward the car.

Dean and Castiel followed behind them side by side, shoulders and hands brushing together as they walked. Dean had the overwhelming urge to pick the angel up and hold him close to his chest, protecting him from whatever else might be out there to take him away from Dean, but he resisted, seeing as he was the one who had just said he was sick of the chick-flick moments. Instead, he cleared his throat and asked, "You doin' okay, Cas?"

"Of course," Castiel said immediately. Dean wasn't sure he believed him – he had just lost his brother, killed a bunch of demons, and had apparently managed to somehow escape a ring of holy fire, which had the hunter's mind reeling as to how that could even be possible – but he didn't press the issue. "Are you alright, Dean?"

"I am now," he responded truthfully. Castiel looked over and the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile, his eyes filled with affection for Dean, who found himself speechless under the weight of that gaze and barely managed to choke out, "C'mon, you can sit shotgun."

As Dean opened the passenger side door of the Impala for Castiel – Sam objecting loudly until Gabriel slid into the backseat and offered the space next to him to the younger Winchester, who then seemed more than satisfied – Castiel looked confused. "I can fly back."

"If you're anywhere near as wiped as I am, you can't," Dean insisted. "Now get in."

"But Dean –"

"Hey man, Romeo, Juliet, and Bobby are nice and comfy in the backseat, and I thought it'd be nice to just drive back together. Okay?"

Castiel couldn't deny the pleading in those bright green eyes and he nodded, ducking down into the seat. When Dean settled into the driver's side and stretched his arm out across the back of the bench seat, Castiel accepted the unspoken invitation and scooted over, fitting himself against the hunter's side and leaning his head to rest on his broad shoulder. Dean hummed and stroked the angel's neck with his thumb a few times before turning the key in the ignition and starting off for home.

Sam sighed in exhaustion and leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes and hoping to get some much needed rest on the ride back to Bobby's. However, squeezed between the older hunter and Gabriel, his too-long legs and too-tall torso forced him to sit up straight and rigid, which would never allow him to get comfortable enough to sleep. He huffed in annoyance, remembering when he was a little kid and he could stretch out in the seat and have plenty of room. His size could be an advantage sometimes, but man, did he wish he was small again right now.

Gabriel seemed to sense what he was thinking and angled his body toward the hunter, slipping his arm behind his neck and pulling him sideways so that Sam could rest on his chest. Sam let out a small sound of contentment and nuzzled into the fabric of the archangel's shirt before he almost immediately drifted off to sleep, Gabriel gently petting an affectionate hand through his hair.

Bobby quirked an eyebrow at the pair sitting next to him, then turned to see Castiel snuggled up against Dean, and held back a groan, leaning his head against the window. He almost wished they were back to fighting – he could have gone his whole life without seeing his boys cuddling with angels for the entire twenty hour car ride back home. Then again, he thought as he watched the cars flying by and the trees blurring into one big stripe of green along the side of the highway, he remembered how it felt to take Karen on long road trips, how it warmed him up inside to see her curled up in the passenger seat with her head resting on his lap, or how she would press up against him just to be close while they rode along in silence, enjoying each others presence while they could. No monsters to be hunted, no guests to entertain, no laundry to do or work to get done. Just them, holding onto each other as they drove across the country, counting miles and minutes and moments of shared peace in the sanctuary of their small car.

He smiled a little, closing his eyes and relishing the memories of his wife. He decided that he didn't much mind the boys getting cuddled up to their angels, after all. Lord knows they deserved a little something to keep them happy, keep them safe, keep them from losing themselves in the miserable life of a lonesome hunter. Castiel and Gabriel were going to be their saving grace – no pun intended. Their angels would be the one thing to tether them down, remind them of the things that were most important; family, friends, love. They were going to be to Sam and Dean what the boys were to Bobby.

And who was he to deny them of that?

"God, I'm tired," Sam yawned when Gabriel shook him awake. They had finally pulled into the salvage yard after stopping just a few times for food and gas. Sam and Dean took turns driving so the other could get some rest, and Dean had taken the final stretch.

Gabriel stepped out of the Impala and waited patiently for Sam to follow. He caught the hunter in his arms when his knees wobbled, body thoroughly exhausted to the point that he could barely move. "C'mon, kiddo, let's get you to bed," the archangel sighed.

Bobby had already limped onto the porch, unlocking the door and disappearing up the stairs without so much as a word, desperate for the comfort of his much-missed bed. Castiel walked a stumbling Dean up the porch steps and nodded a goodnight to Sam and Gabriel as he climbed the stairs after Bobby while Dean wandered into the kitchen, undoubtedly for a before-bed beer.

Sam had already fallen back to sleep standing up, leaning against the archangel. If he didn't have superhuman strength, Gabriel would be a pancake under the giant hunter's weight. As it was, he was a sturdy support, and he easily swung Sam's legs up to carry him into the house, kicking the door of the car closed with his heel.

He silently carried Sam through the house and downstairs to the panic room, lowering him gingerly onto the cot and a smile crept onto his lips when the young man rolled onto his stomach and buried his face into the pillow. Gabriel walked around to the end of the bed and tugged off his boots and socks before noticing that the bed was way too small for Sam; his feet and arms hung off the sides. It was kind of funny, but after a good chuckle Gabriel had some pity on the guy, so with a snap of his fingers the cot was replaced by a huge, incredibly luxurious bed fit for a king, covered in soft downy blankets and feather pillows. "Much better," he murmured.

He resumed pulling off Sam's overclothes to make him more comfortable, wrestling the thick jacket off of his shoulders and tossing it unceremoniously into the corner, followed by his blood-stained overshirt. There was blood on his t-shirt, too, so Gabriel decided to just tug that off as well, leaving Sam's toned, tanned back available for his viewing pleasure – and boy, was it pleasurable. The archangel licked his lips subconsciously, wishing that Sam would wake up so they could get on with that 'later' thing Sam had promised him. But he knew that the hunter needed rest, and he was willing to wait a little longer.

Gabriel rolled the hunter onto his back and drank in the stunning sight of his defined abs before popping the button on his jeans and pulling them off gently, careful not to wake Sam. When he finally got them all the way off and threw them over to join the rest of Sam's clothing on the floor, he couldn't help but let out a small moan. There was Sam, stripped down to nothing but his boxers, spread-eagled on the bed in a state of obvious bliss in his sleep, and it did unholy things to Gabriel's body. He quickly covered the hunter in the thick blankets before he found himself at the end of his self-restraint – as it was, all he could do to keep from jumping the six-foot-four hunk of burnin' love splayed out on the bed was just remind himself that the guy needed sleep. He had a long day. He almost died. Wait, no, don't think about that. He's alright. Just tired. Damn, he's so cute when he's tired. Actually, more like hot as hell. But wait, don't jump him. He needs sleep.

As he tucked the blankets tightly around Sam's body, he looked around for a chair or something so he could be comfortable as he watched over Sam through the night. Finding nothing, he sighed heavily and already had pictures of a ridiculously cushy armchair in mind to conjure up when he heard Sam stir and saw his hazel eyes blink open slowly.

"Hey, kiddo," he greeted him softly.

"Gabe," Sam breathed, the name slurred on his tongue. He reached out an arm and gripped the hand hovering over his chest tightly. "Don't leave."

"Don't worry, Sam, I'm right here," Gabriel soothed, petting his free hand over his forehead and brushing the hair out of his half-lidded eyes.

"Stay," the hunter begged again, his voice in a childlike whine.

"I'm not going anywhere," Gabriel reassured him. "I'll stay all night."

"Here," Sam demanded, tugging on the archangel's hand and rolling over so that Gabriel fell onto the bed on top of him.

"You sure?" he asked hesitantly. He wanted to crawl into bed with Sam more than anything, but he needed to make sure that it was what Sam wanted too – his foremost concern for a while now had been only what Sam wanted, and that wasn't changing tonight.

"Sleep here with me," Sam pleaded, wide eyes studying Gabriel's face.

"Okay, Sam, shh," the archangel agreed, climbing over Sam's body and snuggling into the covers beside him after mojo-ing his overclothes away with a snap of his fingers so he was just in a thin t-shirt and boxer briefs. He left a tiny sliver of space between them, just in case, but Sam closed the distance quickly, pulling Gabriel into his arms so the archangel's head was pillowed on his broad chest. Gabriel gripped Sam tightly, unable to get the images of the hunter after his run-in with those demons out of his head, promising himself that he would never let him get hurt like that again.

He lightly traced protective sigils into Sam's bare skin with the tip of his index finger, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest even out as he drifted back to sleep. Three words were on the tip of his tongue, craving so desperately to be spoken aloud, but Gabriel swallowed them down and closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to fall asleep, even though he had never slept before. Sam had asked him to sleep with him (no Gabriel, he chided himself, down boy. Not like that – actually fall into unconsciousness and rest kind of sleep), and that was exactly what he was going to do.

Gabriel felt himself slipping and just let himself go. He was safe in his hunter's arms, and Sam was safe in his. He hadn't been this happy in centuries. He fought hard for the right to be with Sam Winchester, gave everything he had and more, and he decided then and there that he wasn't ever going to let him go.

"Dean?"

The hunter whirled around in his chair at the table and looked up at the figure that had appeared in the kitchen. "Hey, Cas."

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked anxiously, eying the two empty beer bottles sitting on the table and the half-empty one in Dean's hand.

"Yeah," Dean answered, leaning back and running a hand through the short spikes of his hair, "I'm fine."

"You're not," Castiel stated knowingly.

"Are you in my head again?"

"No," the angel replied honestly, "I just know you well."

Dean sighed and pulled out the chair beside him, motioning for Castiel to come and sit, which he did without hesitation. "I'm just... I didn't realize how hard this was for you, you know? You lost your grace because of all this, and now Raphael's dead, and you gave up a lot, and you don't deserve to have all this happen. I guess I'm just worried about you, Cas. I never meant to hurt you, or make things hard for you, and I..." He trailed off, realizing that his exhaustion combined with the alcohol were causing him to spill more of his thoughts than he had initially planned. "I want you to know that I'm sorry, and that –"

"No," Castiel cut him off, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

"What?" Dean asked, confused.

"Do not apologize to me, Dean Winchester," the angel warned him harshly. "None of this is your fault. I rebelled against Raphael because he was wrong. I fought to be here on earth with you because this is where I want to be. Don't you understand, Dean? I did this, all of this, not because of you, but because I wanted to." His tone softened and he reached out a hand hesitantly before changing his mind and dropping it back down into his lap, nervously twining his fingers together. "I want to be with you, not just to protect you, but also because when I am with you, I have feelings that I have never known before. You fill something within me that Heaven has never been able to, and for that, I owe you more than you can ever imagine. I have never loved before, but if I am not mistaken, I do now. I love you, Dean."

Dean was completely stunned. His mind was reeling, his head was spinning, and he thought his chest was going to explode with the warm feeling that had been slowly building inside but suddenly burst throughout his entire body with the utterance of those last three words. He stared open-mouthed at Castiel's honest, bared and unguarded blue eyes until his own emerald green orbs glazed over in shock. He couldn't speak, didn't know how to, was being drowned in the emotions radiating from his angel and swirling around inside himself. Time froze and he was completely unaware of the fact that Castiel allowed him to sit, completely frozen and silent, for an entire fifteen minutes before standing and barely whispering, "We should go to bed now, Dean."

The angel tugged him up out of his seat, gently removing the bottle from his fingertips and placing it on the table. He turned to lead the way out of the kitchen, but in that same moment Dean finally rediscovered his ability to function and grabbed for Castiel's shoulder, spinning him around violently and crushing him into a desperate embrace. As he buried his face into the crook of Castiel's neck, breath hitching with overwhelming emotion, he stammered, "Cas, I – I love you."

Castiel bit back a sob of relief and circled his arms around the hunter, holding on just as tightly as Dean held him. The events of the past twenty-four hours were finally hitting home – almost losing one another, battling both Heaven and Hell for this moment, this embrace, this mutual desire and need and love. He lost himself in the feeling of Dean pressing against him, surrounding him, whispering over and over, "I love you, Cas, I love you." It was almost as though saying it once had opened the floodgates, and he just couldn't stop repeating it, whether more to convince himself or the angel, Castiel didn't know. But he didn't try to shush him, didn't try to push him away, didn't try to do anything but contain his tears as they held onto each other as if their lives depended on it.

Somehow, amidst the hugging and the declarations of love and the passionate kisses peppered onto cheeks and necks and lips, they found themselves tangled together in the cot of Bobby's spare room, the same one where they had let go of inhibitions and been intimate for the very first time. Dean realized that he was stripped down to his boxers and undershirt – when had that happened? – and that Castiel had shed his trench coat and suit in favor of a much more comfortable pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt (wait – were those Dean's?). It didn't matter, nothing mattered now except the feel of his angel's arms around his waist, strong hands petting gently along his back, chapped lips showering kisses on the top of his head. The last thing he remembered was the feel of something soft and feathery caressing his cheek before he drifted off into unconsciousness alongside the angel who had come to mean everything to him.