Episode 15 – Visions

Summary: Lucifer is walking the earth. Naturally, chaos ensues.

Author's Notes: The most amazing thing happened – AlchemyIndex over at deviantart drew art for this fic and it's awesome :) You can view it here: art/TheGoodFight-494332159

xXx

Southside, Chicago

The world might have gone a bit wacky yesterday, though that doesn't mean life is over – or at least that's what Jamie Akachi thought when he got up this morning.

He's always out of the house before his folks wake up (reduced risk of being yelled at or getting beer bottles thrown at one's head that way) and today is no different. He's got a few, uh, deliveries to make for the Caretti family (and isn't it just ridiculous that the most violent gang around here has an Italian surname? Too bad only Jamie seems to see the irony), so he's on his way to his first client.

Jamie may only be 18 (and barely that), but he's tall and built thanks to two stints in juvie and his cousin's gym for which he sometimes plays security. Oh, also he's black, which adds to the threatening image he cuts, even though that's a bit racist of him. On the Southside, it doesn't really matter what color one's skin is – everyone can wield a gun here. And if it's not a gun, then it's a baseball bat.

Jamie prefers baseball bats for his clients (less risk of accidentally shooting them), but he carries one, always.

Good thing, too, in case one of the neighborhood kids decides to prove themselves to their friends. Thanks to his gun (the only useful thing his parents ever gave him), he's only got a few scars instead of more.

There's a tension in the air when Jamie makes his way back home to store his bat and get his backpack for school. Yes, he's one of the few kids around here who actually takes his schooling seriously. He's not the brightest bulb in the lot, but he's trying and he's gonna get his diploma, come fire or brimstone.

Well. It's not fire or brimstone, but tornados and earthquakes and storms and heavy rain all across the globe if you believe the news (which his parents don't, but Jamie does). Anyway, there's tension. Chicago hasn't been hit with anything yet but it's probably only just a matter of time and then it'll be hell on the streets. It's already hell on the streets but then it'll be survival-of-the-fittest kind of hell on the streets.

Jamie shakes his head. All these things are giving him a headache.

Instead of easing off, though, like headaches are supposed to do, this one gets worse until Jamie's breathing hard and has to grab onto the nearest wall to steady himself.

He squeezes his eyes shut but then he's starting to see weird symbols and it burns and it hurts, damn it, what the fuck is going on he hasn't eaten anything bad he hasn't taken anything why is he hallucinating –

There's a white light, bright enough to pierce through his closed eyelids. Jamie blinks, his hand jerking instinctively towards his gun.

There's a dude standing in front of him. How didn't he hear him approach? That's the way to being gunned down in broad daylight, seriously. He needs to get a handle on this situation.

He draws the gun – medium height, light hair, clearly never seen the inside of a gym - when it seems like the guy's happy just standing there, grinning at him like a cat that's got the canary. Jamie doesn't like that look at all.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Easy there, tiger," the guy says, holding up his hands. "I'm here to get you."

"You from child protective services or what?"

For some reason he finds that amusing and snorts. "Nope. I'm an archangel. Your archangel – okay, the only archangel left upstairs now that Mike's all crazy and flying around earth looking for Luci – but anyway, you're stuck with me, kiddo."

"What the hell are you on, man?"

Suddenly, the ground gives a jolt and Jamie almost falls but he regains his balance pretty quick. His head's still killing him.

"Okay, listen, I'd give you the whole lecture about angels and the word of God but we've got limited time and I need to get your ass to heaven before Luci's troops get here, capiche?"

Maybe the guy has a psychotic thing? Some sort of delusion? Jamie wonders as he tightens the grip on his gun.

"Start talking sense or I'm walking away," he growls and the guy has the balls to actually take a step forward. "One more step and I'll shoot!"

The man doesn't listen. One step, then another. Jamie releases his breath and pulls the trigger. The bullet hits the man in the leg, should incapacitate him for a bit so Jamie takes off running. He knows the neighborhood, has been running from folks for years now.

He goes as fast as he can despite the pounding headache and turns a corner – only to stumble back when the same freaking guy is right in front of him.

"What the hell?"

"Archangel, hello!" the guy say, waving a hand at his leg, which is – what – completely bullet wound free. "Now come on, we gotta get you to safety."

Just then there's a noise behind Jamie, sounding like someone accidentally stepped on shards of glass, and he's spun around and aimed his shot before he can actively think.

Yeah, well. He might be a bit trigger happy. It's not a bad thing on the Southside, so sue him.

Okay, scratch that. It wouldn't be a bad thing – if the victim actually went down but the lady that's standing there, pretty hot actually with auburn hair and pretty eyes, just keeps walking even though she's got a bullet hole in her forehead.

"Sorry," the man behind him says, "we got him first."

Then there's a hand on Jamie's shoulder and a tingling sensation runs through his entire body and before he knows what's happening he's in a totally different place. There's desks and people buzzing around and light walls and the whole room is flooded with sunlight even though there are no windows.

Jamie gapes.

"Welcome to Heaven, kiddo."

xXx

"A prophet?"

"Yup."

"A prophet of the Lord?"

The man, who's introduced himself as Gabriel (the Gabriel, the one Jamie learnt about in school a while back) nods.

"Why me? Why now?"

"No idea why you, that's all Daddy's domain. Now 'cause the last prophet died –"

Jamie's eyes must have widened in horror for the guy immediately back paddles.

"- not violently! He chose to die, y'see he was actually a ghost before 'cause Heaven was closed but now it's open again but so's Lucifer's cage, which is why we're in this freakin' mess to begin with and need another prophet apparently. And that's you."

"Well, I ain't even going to church, like, at all, so your Dad must've really screwed up this selection process of his."

"Believe me, I stopped reflecting on His criteria for chosen ones a looooong time ago," Gabriel drawls with an eye roll. "I just go with it. 'It' being you, right now, and once you're sorted, I gotta deal with the dickbags who started this thing."

"The devil?" Jamie asks, but he's still not entirely sold that he's actually not hallucinating things. Because, really – God is real and it's the apocalypse and God chose a poor, criminal black kid from the Southside to be his prophet? That sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.

"Nope, two very stupid and very resistant humans who should have been dead ten times over – oh, and another one of my brothers who's discovered free will, almost ended the world, became human and fell in love with one of them."

"Okay…"

"Right! So! This is Hannah." Gabriel points to a woman in pullover and jacket over a shirt who is smiling kindly at him. "She's gonna give you a short tour, show you to your room and then we'll see what kind of prophet you are, alright?"

"What kind of prophet I am? There's more than one kind?"

"Yup – you might get visions of the future or you're able to read the Word of God or write down the Word of God… We'll see. I'm gonna tear Team Free Will a new one in the meantime," he grouses.

Jamie has no idea who this "Cas" is but he's already feeling sorry for the guy.

"Please follow me," Hannah requests, waiting patiently for him to get to his feet and looking completely unperturbed by his obvious distrust.

But he's got no choice, so he follows the lady out of the room. To get a tour of Heaven. Yeah, sure.

xXx

Detroit, Morningstar Hotel – The day before

Castiel's heart clenches as he watches Dean break down once Sam is gone. Of course Dean will blame himself for everything – the torture, the mayhem, the killing, the bloodshed he instigated as a demon as well as the fact that Lucifer is now walking the earth in his perfect vessel.

Castiel knows he should regret this, but when he pulls Dean close the hunter lets him, buries his face in Castiel's chest and sobs into his shirt and Castiel cannot for the life of him regret aiding Sam in getting Dean back.

When there are no more mournful tremors shaking Dean's shoulders, Castiel, moves his hand to the sides of Dean's face, still covered in the stubble he accumulated in the past two weeks, and presses a soft kiss into his hair.

The older brother shudders at the sensation and tries to escape, but Castiel anticipated his move and instead captures his lips in an equally chaste kiss. It suffices to show Dean that Castiel will not walk away now, that he is still here, at his side, no matter what.

Dean releases a shaky breath and finally opens his eyes, once again vibrant green, pure yet overshadowed with guilt.

"We should get to the bunker," Castiel suggests. "Regroup."

A nod, though no comment. Castiel prays for Haschmal who is with them a second later, his sudden appearance making Dean flinch. Yet he doesn't fuzz when Haschmal teleports them to the bunker's entrance and returns to the Host in order to help with emergency planning.

The flutter of wings is followed by a rustling to their right but before Castiel can do more than let his weapon fall into his hand, Dean has the intruder slammed against the bunker door, the first blade against his throat.

"Crowley," Dean growls with enough venom in his voice to poison a lesser man. "You got some nerve showing your mug."

"It's not like I have that many alternatives," Crowley begins but his breath hitches when he really takes Dean in. Castiel cannot see Dean's true form anymore but it undoubtedly is back to its pure, brilliant state. Crowley's eyes widen, first in shock, then in horror when they fall to Dean's arm. Even while it is covered by a flannel it is obvious that there is no Mark glowing underneath it.

"What have you done?" Crowley hisses. "Where's moose? What bloody mess have you gotten yourselves into now? Explain!"

"You ain't got the right to order me 'round anymore," Dean snaps, though before he can do anything else he is stumbling back, probably from a bout of telekinetic energy for a moment later, Crowley is the one who had Dean pressed against the wall.

Castiel has closed the distance in an instance, one arm across Crowley's chest from behind, yanking him back, the other with his angel blade against his throat.

"Oh, Cas, I always knew you were a kinky bastard," Crowley sneers but Castiel doesn't have time for jokes.

"Let him go, Crowley. We can talk about this inside."

"No way in hell we're letting him in!" Dean protests but Castiel has other plans.

"He'll owe us. We might need him. He'll be no use to us chained to a rack in Hell."

"Yeah and a rack would be bloody merciful," the former King of Hell grumbles into his unimpressive beard.

"Fine!" Dean eventually agrees.

Once inside the bunker, the hunter immediately makes a beeline for the liquor cabinet. He takes one swing out of the cheap rum bottle before flinging it against the room with a roar of fury and frustration. It shatters, amber liquid and glass shards spilling on the floor. Castiel's heart aches for something to do to make Dean feel better, but his mind is blank.

Crowley's, meanwhile, seems to be working twice as fast as usual. Castiel sees his eyes raking over Dean, then Castiel, then around the bunker as if waiting for Sam to appear.

As his attention returns to the missing Mark, it visibly clicks. Castiel intuitively steps between Crowley and Dean as the former lunges at his former employee.

"YOU DAFT WANKERS!" Crowley roars. "You're not actually telling me that you bloody traded moose for the Mark, are you?! Do you have any idea what mess you caused? Fucking, short-sighted tossers! And you," Crowley adds, raising an accusing finger at Castiel. "You bloody went along with it! What, almost ending the world once left you unfulfilled so you decided to scratch that itch again?"

"What's going on!" echoes a female shout before Castiel has a chance to defend their choices. Alexandra Kahr is standing in the doorway to the map room, the demon killing knife at the ready.

"What happened to your eye?" Dean asks, drawing everyone's attention to the dark bruise blooming on the left side of the woman's face.

"Sam," she spits out. "Where is the idiot?"

Castiel would have been all too glad to leave her question unanswered, yet Crowley is still seething and speaks.

"Oh, moose's playing prom dress for the devil, haven't you heard? That shade of dumb is what everyone's wearing this summer."

"What?!"

"For some unfathomable reason defying all logic, our resident wankers here decided not to kill their co-wanker when he went over the edge but rather traded his humanity for Sam's consent as Lucifer's vessel, meaning that we're now all utterly doomed and destined to be Satan's little chew toy."

"Nope, that's just you, Crowley," Dean hisses, "'cause you were stupid enough to betray him a few years back and seize his throne."

"It was a power vacuum, someone had to step up –"

"So you're saying," Alex interrupts, her tone even managing to silence Crowley, "that not only did we fail at stopping the seals from being broken but also that we're one hunter short and the devil's one vessel richer."

No one answers her since it is all rather obvious.

"To recap," Alex continues, "so that we're all clear how great our prospects are – Lucifer is walking the earth, already in possession of a demon army since the King of Hell is cowardly cowering behind us – " Crowley opens his mouth to protest but Alex ignores him, "and if that weren't enough, he also has the False Prophet at his side who's probably raising the Beast of the Sea as we speak."

"What do you mean, the False Prophet?" Crowley's voice betrays a hint of fear.

"Oh, didn't anyone tell you?" Alex asks, tone rich with false regret. "In Vegas Sam and I found out that the Prophet had to be in the game; otherwise breaking the tablets of Moses wouldn't have worked as seals."

It is fascinating to watch Crowley's face drain of its entire colour as his eyes widen.

"What? What do you know, Crowley?" Castiel holds his breath as he waits for the demon to answer; yet when he does, he is trembling with rage.

"That utter git! Back-stabbing, ungrateful –"

"Who?" Castiel asks again, this time taking a step in Crowley's direction.

He can see slivers of emotions and thoughts flicker across the man's face until it settles into something akin to stubborn defiance.

"My son."

"How?" Castiel growls. Alexandra looks as confused as he is feeling. Crowley's son has been dead for several centuries now. How does he feature into all of this?

"You mean Gavin had something to do with this?" Dean hisses. "The kid you were supposed to send back to his time so that he could drown on his way to America, but that you saved?"

"Yes, that bloody kid!" Crowley shouts back, then huffs as if to compose himself again. "He came to me a few weeks ago, begging for protection. I have him a hellhound." Silence. "What was I supposed to do? He's my son!"

"And now he's the False Prophet!" Alex snaps. "Well done!"

"What's the hellhound got to do with it?" Dean raises an eyebrow at the huntress.

"It's a ritual; to activate the Prophet. Blood of a Griffin, blood of a hellhound, blood of, well, it translates to 'paragon of innocence', so some special sort of child."

"I didn't know that!" Crowley protests, earning him a "Shut up" from Dean, though apparently the demon is in the mood to argue. "Oh, come off your high horse, squirrel! You're just as guilty in this! That's two apocalypses you started, how's that feel, eh?"

Something in Castiel snaps and one moment later, he has Crowley pressed face-first onto the map table, pushing the angel blade just enough into his back to hurt.

"Listen, assbutt," he growls. The sound of his own voice should scare him but he cannot think given that the burning fury licking at his insides is consuming his thoughts. "The seals were breaking long before Sam ever made that deal. You failed, Crowley. You, the King of Hell, who should have noticed since it was your minions who started this! So don't you dare pin anything on Dean!"

"Alright, easy, calm down," Dean intervenes, placing his hands on Castiel's shoulders and pulling him back. His hands stay there, the thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his skin through too many layers of fabric. "This ain't getting us nowhere. We gotta find a way to stop this, alright? We've been cleaning up messes for years; this ain't no different."

There are so many things Castiel could say to that, so many objections he could raise, obstacles he could point out. He doesn't. Dean is right – no matter how bleak it looks, the Winchesters have always found a way.

"Fine," Alex grits out and Crowley nods in assent.

"Good. But we're ordering pizza. And pie. I'm freakin' starving," Dean decides, moving away from Castiel to make the call.

xXx

Dean uses the time it takes for the pizza to arrive to wash off the grime and blood caking his skin and he changes into clean clothes while Castiel and Alexandra are searching the library for anything useful. Crowley is pacing, obviously miles away with his thoughts.

They gather in the library around a single table and eat in silence, a silence that does not vanish as soon as they are all finished. It takes several minutes, but eventually the female speaks up.

"So many ideas, impressive."

Dean chuckles humorlessly. "You got that right."

"Last time you threw Lucifer and Michael back into the cage, at least that's what I've heard. Why can't we try that now?"

Dean rubs a hand over his face, heaving a sigh. "For one, that only worked 'cause Sammy managed to gain control. Won't happen now 'cause he made a deal – if he tries anything, Lucifer's just gonna make him suffer or go back on his word and kill us after all. For another, we need the horsemen's rings to pull that off and honey, we ain't got them."

"Which is missing?"

"Death's." Alexandra lights up at Dean's response and opens her mouth, presumably to suggest summoning Death and asking him for it, but Dean doesn't let her start. "Nope. Not gonna happen. Sam bound Death and used the ring we forgot to give back. The old man hates being bound so he sure as hell won't do us any more favors." Dean presses the heels of his palm into his eyes with a groan. "Even if he came, he'd probably just tell us he ain't there to clean up after us."

The huntress grumbles, shaking a lock of dark hair out of her face. "Okay, I get it. No point to mope because Daddy's had enough of your antics."

Dean glares at her, though Castiel barely manages to stifle a chuckle. Only Dean Winchester would find a father figure in Death.

"What about the chief Marauder?" Crowley suggests and the reference tickles something in Castiel's mind. He knows this – "Your brother, darlin'?" Crowley explains before Castiel can find the solution on his own.

"Being an archangel, Gabriel can theoretically kill Lucifer. However he has tried in the past and failed. Lucifer is considerably stronger than him, and," Castiel proceeds with glee at being able to throw the reference back at the demon, "if Gabriel is the chief Marauder, Lucifer is the one who taught him how to court mischief. He won't fool him."

"Also, Heaven needs him," Alex adds. "They need a leader and I doubt Gabriel would take the risk, unless he has no other options."

"But what other options are there?" Dean asks, his voice betraying a hint of fear. "The blade don't work anymore, we know that the colt's a bust, anyone else using Gabriel's blade's just gonna get vaporized before they're in striking distance and Death's not gonna do jack shit for us!"

"There has to be a way," Castiel replies, trying to keep his voice as soothing as possible despite how much he agrees with Dean's assessment. "We just haven't found it yet."

"Maybe Gabriel knows something?" Alex wonders out loud.

"He might," Castiel can't but agree, "yet he will be too busy in Heaven to come down right away. He will visit as soon as he can, certainly."

"When he does, Heaven could coordinate with the other hunters – see where people need help the most and see to establish a network to help where it's needed. I got their contacts."

Castiel nods with a surprised smile.

"I'll get on it right away. You two," she points at Dean and Castiel, "look ready to drop. You should probably get some sleep."

"I can help –" Dean tries, though Castiel won't hear of it.

"No, Dean. She's right. We'll need our energy."

For a second Dean seems like he might want to argue, but he acquiesces a mment later.

xXx

Inside his bedroom – or rather their bedroom, Castiel muses – Dean gazes at him in wonder.

"You, uh," he stammers and Castiel is immediately in front of him, stepping right inside his personal space.

"Yes, Dean. I'm not leaving."

Castiel tries not to reflect on Dean's psyche too much since whenever he actually does, he ends up yearning to go back in time and smite every single person who ever abandoned Dean or made him feel like anything less than the strong, brilliant man that he is.

Now, however, it is hard not to see the immense relief even out Dean's features and relax his muscles. Maybe that is why Castiel feels compelled to go on, to really make his point clear.

"I'm yours, Dean," he whispers. "I've been yours for a long time now."

"Despite everything I've done?"

"Because of everything you've done," is Castiel's comeback and the hunter's brows furrow. "Dean – you tend to only see the wrong you have done, the alleged mistakes you made, but you forget that you are human and, more importantly, how often you have saved this world. You are one of the proverbial good guys."

"How can you say that after all I've done?"

"That was the Mark, Dean. That situation was beyond your control."

Dean snorts. "Sounds like a cheap excuse."

"It's not. Do you have any idea how much strength it took to withstand it for so long? How brave you were to put yourself into that devil's trap? To call me?" Castiel cannot hold back any longer. He raises his hand and cradles Dean's face in his palm. Rather than flinch away he leans into the touch, his eyelids fluttering shut. "Before I became human, I saw your true form and it was… well, to be honest it was beautiful, though I fear you might object to that particular designation."

Dean huffs a laugh and steps closer, placing his hands on Castiel's hips.

"But it was. Beautiful, that is. It was obviously a demon, yet underneath it was still your soul that broke through the cracks. Not even the Mark of Cain could take your goodness away from you, Dean, and even less could convince me to leave."

He finally feels like he has said enough. He kisses Dean's forehead since he cannot reach his lips because the hunter's head is bowed and he listens as Dean lets out a shaky breath. When he looks up shortly afterwards, his eyes are so open that Castiel doubts he will ever be able to tear his own away. He ignores the wet gleam and instead leans in, his heart fluttering when Dean mirrors him, thus closing the distance between their lips.

Castiel has no words for what follows. It is slow, sensual and so intimate that any description would not be able to encompass the sensations. Castiel thinks this is why humans call it 'making love' sometimes, but even that classification is lacking.

When they are writhing against each other, unhurried and interrupting the rhythm with open-mouthed kisses, Castiel gives up his attempt to find words and looses himself in Dean, who seems to be everywhere around him.

They both find release too soon though bask in the afterglow. Castiel drapes himself across Dean's chest, tracing the outline of his anti-possession tattoo with his fingertips while Dean's hand is stroking his hair.

For that night, by unspoken agreement, they both forget about the apocalypse, about deals with the Devil and unwanted fugitives in the bunker. For that night, they simply are Dean and Castiel, and Castiel never wants it to end.

xXx

Gabriel is having rather vivid phantasies about exactly how he will punish the Winchesters and his newly human brother when Hannah's distressed call comes in via angel radio.

He blinks out of and into existence and within seconds is taking in the situation – Jamie on the floor, clutching his head with Hannah and several other angels looking on with worry.

"What happened?"

"He just collapsed," Hannah stammers, clearly at a loss at what to do.

Well, it's not every day a prophet's collapsing in front of you with a vision. At least that's what it looks like. Gabriel kneels down next to the kid and grips his shoulder. Maybe an anchor to tether him to this plane will help.

Suddenly the convulsing stops as Jamie stills, drawing a shaky breath.

"Welcome back, kiddo." Gabriel hopes his tone is soothing despite his curiosity that compels him to just shake the prophet and learn what's going on.

Jamie stares at him for a long moment, then blinks and takes in his surroundings – noting the doors and exits, Gabriel realizes quickly. Seriously, what kind of neighborhood does this boy come from?

"I saw something." It's barely more than a whisper.

"What did you see?"

"Two men, fighting – but they weren't really men, 'cause they were flying and using some weird sci-fi shit and pushing each other back without really touching. There was water…. That one guy threw the other one into the ocean and he didn't come up again… and then there was a flood, but I only saw the wave and what the fuck is going with me?!"

The last bit is shouted at the top of his voice and Gabriel instinctively leans back in case the kid decides to lash out.

"That, my dear prophet, was your first vision. Now tell me – what did the men look like?"

"Vision? You mean your God's giving them to me? Why can't he just tell you himself, that shit hurt!"

"Mysterious ways, compadre…"

"In what world am I latino?"

Gabriel rolls his eyes at Jamie's petulant expression. "I really don't care about where your parents or grandparents are from, kid – what did these men look like?"

Jamie glares but answers his question nonetheless. Finally. "The one was really tall, white suit, looked kinda douchy. The other was closer to my age, blond hair, I don't know, all I got were flashes."

Gabriel sighs, allowing himself to briefly cradle his face in his hands. Splendid. Just awesome. Thanks, Dad, for the heads-up…

"You know where this happens? You said something about the ocean?"

"Yeah, somewhere south of San Francisco, at the coast. There was some kind of church…"

"Alright, great." Gabriel looks up to catch Hannah's eye. "Now Hannah here's gonna see to you and make sure you're alright and I'm gonna, well. Confer with the Winchesters, as horrifying as it sounds. The world is doomed…" he mutters, more to himself than to the others in his vicinity. 'course the kid hears him and looks terrified until Hannah assures him that Gabriel didn't mean it like that, but by then, Gabriel's already halfway out the room.

xXx

He pounds against the bunker door until Alex Kahr lets him in. Gabriel forgoes the stairs in his urgency, teleporting right into the library where he senses Castiel and is ready to deliver the lecture of the century on effective counter-apocalypse methods until he stops short when he sees -

Dean. Not that he's any different on the outside, but Gabriel has become used to the enormous black hole that his true form has evolved into. Which is gone. Absent. No trace of demonic components. Just pure white human soul.

"What. Did. You. Do," he grits out, first fixing Dean, then Castiel with a glare before he turns on his heels, on the lookout for the bigger Winchester. Who is nowhere to be found, yet Crowley twitches in a corner where he's inspecting the books on the shelf. "Where's Sam?"

No one says anything and Gabriel's mind fills the silence with thoughts – thoughts about what needed to have happened for Dean to go back to human and by the time he has come to the only possible explanation for all the clues he's getting, the shelves are trembling from his rage.

"You giant bag of DICKS!" he bellows. "Tell me Sam did not trade in his consent against Dean's cure!"

Silence. Not that he expected an answer. Castiel's jaw is set in defiance – 'cause of course his love-sick brother was on board with that fuck-up of a plan – and Dean's pretending to read the book in front of him (and what the hell happened to make Dean research voluntarily? Oh, right – the apocalypse!)

Later Gabriel will only recall half the insults he flung at the remnants of Team Free Will, but he was incredibly creative. Everyone looks sufficiently chastised and Gabriel would love to do more, but they have more pressing shit to deal with so he gulps in a breath and tries to rein in his anger.

"Okay, now that I've ripped y'all a new one, let me get to the point that actually brought me here –"

"What, our ass-whipping didn't warrant a trip on its own?"

"Believe me, Dean-o, it would have but I'm a multitasker, so shush. We got a new prophet, activated this morning in Chicago. He's already in Heaven and safe, but he had a vision."

"What did he see?" Castiel asks, speaking up for the first time. Only now does Gabriel notice how close he is sitting to Dean. Ugh, they're probably holding hands underneath the table like the saps they are.

"Lucifer and Michael, fighting somewhere south of San Fran, and there'll be a big fuckin' flood in the aftermath 'cause apparently good ol' Luci's gonna smite Michael's feathery ass into the Pacific Ocean."

"Oh," is all Dean says.

"Yes, 'oh'. Cassie, I hope he's a good lay 'cause he's not gonna win a literary award any time soon…"

"He is," Castiel snaps back and for a moment, Gabriel does nothing but raise an eyebrow at his brother's defensiveness.

Dean clears his throat. "Not the issue here, though thanks, Cas."

"I only stated a fact –"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, world's ending so you're fucking like bunnies, no need to scar me for life. Let's go!"

"What can we do?" Alex butts in. "We're no match for the devil and Michael."

"Nope, but who knows what else is going on and maybe some innocent bystanders will need your help, so shut up and speed this up."

Within sixty seconds, the hunters and Castiel are ready to go. They ignore Crowley who is trying to melt into the bookshelves without success, but Gabriel has no second to spare for the coward to tell him that.

xXx

Somewhere south of San Francisco

It's impressive; Dean's got no other word for it. It's what he always imagined the fights in those Harry Potter books to look like – which he only read 'cause Sammy was obsessed with them for years on end – only without the colorful jets of light.

Michael is still in Adam's vessel and doesn't that just hurt that his youngest brother's still involved in this shit. Sam doesn't look like Sam at all. Dean remembers what is was like watching Lucifer in his brother's body, the way his presence eclipsed all resemblance to Sam. He isn't trying to play the role of the younger Winchester like Gadreel was, so spotting the difference is easy now.

Another wave of emotions threatens to bury Dean whole so he pushes it aside, buries it in turn, deep within. He's got no idea how to feel, let alone how to cope with this entire situation so he's not gonna try now when he needs to be at the top of his game 'cause even though the archangels are fighting at the Californian cost where the church isn't standing anymore even though the ground's still sacred, there's still people around. Tourists, inhabitants, out to enjoy the sun after the storms and tornadoes and small earthquakes that scared them the day before.

"Get back!" he yells at a group of teenagers, directing them to the road where there's no risk of snapping trees hitting them over their heads.

A cry echoes across the land, followed by a crash. Dean's head snaps up and he sees Michael grinning down at where Lucifer hit the ground, denting the earth and stirring up dust and dirt. When he jumps to his feet, however, his suit is as pristine and white as before.

Sam – no, Lucifer, always Lucifer - looks around, glimpses Dean and then spies the others, aided by several angels as they try to get people to safety.

"Watch it, Michael," the devil sneers, "you're scaring the locals."

"That is entirely your doing," Michael replies calmly, waiting for Lucifer's next attack.

It comes swiftly. Michael dodges, tries to retaliate but Lucifer evades it easily and then it is Michael who is falling right onto a rock. Dean swears he hears the sound of a snapping spine as the vessel's bones break from the impact.

Dean looses track then. He fails at calming down crying people but manages to reunite some kids with their parents before handing them off to some angel to teleport them out of the danger zone. Shit, the press is gonna have a blast with this.

Thankfully there aren't any helicopters anymore ever since Lucifer set the first one on fire with a thought and it crashed into the sea.

He spares a glance for the archangels – their fight's getting messier now. Their vessels are bleeding and Lucifer's white suit is speckled with blood. They're more frantic now but it hardly matters 'cause Dean can't see any civilians anymore, and those who wanted to stay and watch were forcibly removed by the angels.

Michael and Lucifer are too fast now for any human eye to follow them so Dean has no idea who's winning until suddenly, another cry sounds and then a figure is falling fast, down and down from great height until it makes contact with the Pacific Ocean far off the coast.

Dean can feel the collision when it happens. It rattles his bones and the trees in the distance. The water is steaming but he has no idea why and the next thing he knows is that there's a wave forming, spreading rapidly and building up in a large circle from where the archangel hit the water.

Cas.

The waterfront's gonna hit the coast and Dean doubts Cas can swim – he's gonna drown if Dean doesn't find him –

He's suddenly somewhere else, at the other side of the beach and only catches one glimpse of Cas staring in awe at the wave coming towards them, doesn't even get the chance to shout before he blinks out of existence and re-appears somewhere he recognizes immediately as the front door of the Bat Cave.

"Wha –" he stammers and spins around. Cas is there, safe, in one piece and Dean could have cried.

"There, no harm, can you please shut up," someone grouses next to them and Dean looks up into Sam's eyes.

"Why're you -?" he begins but his brother's voice doesn't let him finish.

"Since the second I smote Michael, poor little Sammy has been nagging be about ensuring your safety, seeing as it was part of the deal. So here you go. Safe, sound. Looking a little terrified. Your angel friends are probably all in Hawaii right now, trying to evacuate the island. At least it is smaller than Japan."

"Japan, why Japan?" Dean's head is spinning.

"Look at a map when you're inside, will you?" Lucifer sneers before brushing nonexistent dust off his suit jacket. "Until next time. Sammy says 'hi' and some variation of brotherly endearment."

Then he's gone.

Dean half-collapses, a breath forcing its way out of him and he has to brace himself on his knees to stop himself from doubling over.

Cas ain't faring much better. Out of the corner of his eyes Dean sees him leaning back against the bunker door, eyes closed and breathing in steadily through his nose.

Dean prays to Gabriel, but only to tell him where they are and to think of Japan, then pulls Cas into a bone-crushing hug. The former angel is shaking in his arms, his fingers digging into the skin of Dean's back.

Dean would have said something but before he can find the words, the bunker bursts open, revealing a spooked-looking Crowley. Dean refuses to let go of Cas, though, no matter how much the demon glares.

"The machines downstairs are all acting wacky, and the alarm makes you want to cut your wrists, quite frankly. What the bloody hell is going on?"

"Not here," is Dean's gruff response and he pulls Cas with him, down the stairs and into the library where he manhandles him into his lap.

Crowley remains standing and crosses his arms while raising an expectant eyebrow.

"Lucifer killed Michael." That gets another shiver from Cas and Crowley's lips form a silent 'oh'. "There's a big fucking wave hitting California and heading for Hawaii, too."

"So he cast him into the sea, just like that prophet said?"

Dean nods, tightening his hold on the former angel. "The Bible Squad's evacuating, I think."

"Then how come you're here?"

He swallows thickly, wondering why the heck his throat's so tight all of a sudden. "Lucifer. Sam's other condition was that no harm would come to Cas and me. He brought us here, surely knows the location from Sam."

"Bloody brilliant. Now I take it you're not done with your spider monkey there, so can you at least tell me how I can switch off this buggering alarm?"

Dean does and after what sounds like several attempts and some trial and error, the blaring stops. Crowley doesn't return and Dean's glad for the privacy 'cause now he can finally bury his face in Castiel's mop of dark hair without feeling self-conscious.

He has no idea how long it takes for Cas to sit back and meet his eyes again, the blue of his irises full of sorrow.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I got your shirt wet."

"No problem, Cas. Wanna tell me what's going on?"

Castiel sighs and Dean does his best not to wince when Cas digs his fingernails into Dean's shoulders when he squeezes. "My brother just killed another brother. It is… so many emotions – how do you humans cope with this? It feels like I am drowning."

"Guess you don't have year's worth of practice with don't letting such things get to you too much."

"That only leads to bottling it up. I have discovered that this has even worse consequences."

Dean doesn't know if it's a jab at him and his state of mind but he ignores that, too. "It'll pass, Cas. You wanna lie down?"

He shakes his head. "We should continue our research. Contact Alex if we can do anything from here. With Michael gone, Lucifer's power will only intensify."

"Sounds like a plan," Dean quips, hoping to lighten the mood. He grins at Cas when he extricates himself from Dean's lap and earns himself a blush in return. It ain't much, but Dean's gonna take all he can get.

xXx

Gabriel remembers Alexandra Kahr moments before the wave hits the mainland, but somehow he didn't end up with too stupid a cavalry and someone else has already brought her to safety. Thus Gabriel can focus on being the leader everyone thinks him to be.

"Get on the phone; call the hunters in the area, tell them to evacuate and tell their neighbors and everyone they meet," he orders and is incredibly grateful when Alexandra simply nods and retrieves her phone. Not every hunter has to argue with every order they're not issuing themselves, apparently.

He spends the next five minutes snapping orders at angels, sending several to Hawaii, the coastal regions of North America as well as the Caribbean and the rest to Japan (because unlike Dean Winchester, he knows what the world looks like and where a circular wave is likely to hit) and only stops to breathe when he's done.

A slow-clap startles him out of his exhaustion.

"Impressive, little brother. You've grown up. I almost thought you would suggest the humans start building an Arch and then sit back to watch them scramble."

"You confuse our levels of cruelty, Luci," Gabriel replies, deliberately drawing out the nickname. He knows Lucifer hates it with a passion.

Sure enough, he gets glared at. "You should be glad I'm not smiting you where you stand."

"Yeah, I'm confused. Why don't you? Seemed to enjoy it the last time." He can't help the growl in his tone. But seriously, sue him. So his death's still a touchy subject, so what?

"Where would be the fun in that? You have yet to come up with a plan to defeat me, only to watch me thwart it with a snap of my fingers."

Gabriel wishes he knew how to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his brother's face but he does have a point. He could attack him right now but the risk is too big. He is needed on earth. The Heavenly Host won't be able to protect humanity without a leader and Hannah is not ready to take over. No one knows humans like Gabriel does. He cannot risk death in an unsophisticated attempt at Lucifer's life.

"We shall meet again," Lucifer says, nodding at him and Gabriel groans freely at the cheesy phrase.

"Really? You need to can the clichéd villain lines, they don't come across half as good when you're wearing a Winchester."

Lucifer doesn't let himself be riled up, though. He keeps on smirking and is gone with a flutter of wings. Gabriel copies him a moment later but with a different destination. No rest for the wicked, nor for the good guys, apparently.

xXx

End Notes: Here you go, my version of newly-human!Dean and the first stages of the apocalypse. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! Some of you don't or my bookmark count wouldn't be decreasing instead of increasing…. *frowny-face*

Anyway, turns out human!Castiel can be a big sap… but he deserves it and Dean deserves to hear he's not worthless and I have too many feels about this *gets-a-tissue-and-stops-babbling*