Jenjoremy rocked this chapter and SandraEngstrom2 and Gredelina1 were fantastic in helping me get the details nailed down. Thank you ladies xxx

Chapter Eleven

Sam was up and out running before Dean was finished in the shower the next morning. With Jo on her hunt and Ash still sleeping the sleep of the alcohol sodden, Ellen sat alone in the kitchen, staring into the depths of her coffee. Dean poured himself a mug and took a seat beside her at the table.

"You okay?" he asked.

She shook her head without looking at him. "No. I'm not. I'm scared."

He couldn't help but marvel at the feeling of someone being open and upfront about how they were feeling. He had become so accustomed to Sam's reticence that, even though it had improved recently, it felt strange to get an honest answer from Ellen.

"We'll find another way to deal with Lucifer," he said reassuringly.

She drew a breath. "For once, he's not who I'm thinking of. I was thinking of the other damn archangel that screws everything up. The one I shot." The bitterness in her tone was like a barb against Dean's skin.

"Do you regret it?" Dean asked.

To his knowledge, Ellen had never fired a shot in anger before, let alone aimed to kill. For those moments Gabriel lay unmoving on the floor, she must have thought herself a killer. That wasn't something you just handled. Dean remembered his first kill; though at the time he had been buzzing with adrenaline and the realization that hunting was his future, he had felt guilty later when he realized he'd killed a person, too.

"Not for an instant," she said determinedly. "I would do it again in a heartbeat. He was here to hurt one of you and I couldn't let that happen again. I have to see you, Jo and Sam go out, time after time, and know you're putting your lives at risk. I can't stop you doing that, much as I wish I could. I have lost both you and Sam before, and with this new fight, Lucifer and Michael wanting you as vessels, I am scared every day." She closed her eyes for a moment and drew a breath. "When I saw Sam last night, sitting there with that gun, I thought he was going to hurt himself again."

Dean understood the fear. "When I heard the shot, I thought the same."

"He scares me," she said. "We had a talk about it, what he'd sacrifice for others and how he leaves. He promised to try to stay and to say goodbye if he couldn't, but…" her face crumpled, "I don't want a goodbye. I want my boy."

Dean swallowed hard. He wanted his brother, too. He shared Ellen's fears. He knew Sam would give his life in a heartbeat to save, more so now than ever since Lucifer had been freed. He felt so much guilt all the time; he was drowning under it.

Ellen reached across the table and gripped his hand hard. "We have to find another way, Dean! We have to!"

Dean knew it. He nodded stiffly and cleared his throat. "God," he said.

It was the only option he could think of now. Gabriel had said it was the only hope they had. Castiel was already working on the idea. Dean hadn't had much faith in it before. He figured a God that sat through centuries of wars, death and destruction, that silently watched the breaking of the seals by Lilith, wouldn't stand up now to help, but what else could they do? They had to trust in Him.

Ellen scoffed. "You really think He'll help us?"

"I think He's all we've got," Dean said. "The colt won't kill Lucifer and we don't have an archangel blade. Even if we did, it's not like we could sneak up on him to stab him. I think God's our only hope."

"Yes," Castiel said emphatically. "God will help us."

Sam managed not to roll his eyes, but it was an effort. He had come back from his run to find Ellen and Dean both looking at him with a strange expression—it was almost fearful—and talking about God. Sam didn't think He would rouse himself for anything, including an apocalypse, and he had no idea how to even find Him, but he was willing to listen because he had no alternative.

"The problem is finding Him," Castiel went on. "I have searched, but this"—he held up the pendant Dean usually wore—"has not burned as it should in His presence."

"What makes you think He is even here?" Sam asked. "He's got a whole universe to hide out in; why would He choose earth?"

"Because it is His most beloved creation," Castiel said. "It is here you find humanity."

Now Sam did roll his eyes. He didn't rate humanity as high as Castiel obviously did.

"We can't rely on Cas and a magic necklace," Ellen said. "There has to be another way to get hold of Him. It's God, after all. Can't we just, I don't know, pray?"

Sam turned away so Ellen wouldn't see his incredulous look—she seemed uncharacteristically delicate that morning. When he was sure he had his expression in check, he looked back to her. "Ellen, can you imagine how many prayers He must hear on a daily basis? I haven't heard of a single one being answered yet."

"There are sometimes answers," Dean said in an aggravatingly reasonable tone. "There are miracles, right?"

Castiel nodded. "God answers all prayers. It's just that sometimes the answer is no or not now."

"Okay, Cas," Dean said. "You're obviously the one here with a head-start knowing Him. What else is there that can help us other than the necklace?"

"Someone that has known Him," Castiel said. "I believe if God would answer anyone, it would be one of the archangels. From what you told me of the night's events, Gabriel is not going to help us. We need someone else."

"Not Michael," Sam said quickly. He wasn't encouraging the archangel that wanted to use his brother's body like a cheap suit to come anywhere near him.

"No, Michael has not taken a vessel, even a secondary one as Lucifer has," Castiel said. "There is another that has though."

Sam's confused frown morphed into a scowl as he realized what Castiel was saying. "No! Not a chance, Cas. Last time you saw him, he stabbed you!"

Castiel smiled slightly, though Sam could think of nothing amusing about the situation. "He will not kill me this time. I have a plan."

"Oh, a plan," Sam said sarcastically. "They always work out so well for us. What's the deal this time? You going to wear Kevlar?"

"I don't know what Kevlar is," Castiel admitted. "It doesn't matter. We are going to trap him."

"How are we going to do that?" Dean asked.

Castiel looked smug. "Holy fire."

Sam held up his hands. "Wait! What the hell is holy fire?"

"I will show you," Castiel said. "I won't be a long."

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, but the angel had already disappeared.

There was a beat of silence, in which Sam looked from Ellen's to Dean's hopeful faces and wondered if he was the only person seeing the potential disaster of this plan, then Castiel appeared again, smile in place and roughly molded clay pitcher in his hand.

"Jerusalem," He answered Dean's question as if there had been no break in the conversation, as if he hadn't just taken a quick trip to the Middle East. "Come with me."

They followed him out of the bar onto the scrubby grass that made up the rear of the property. He bent and tipped the pitcher, pouring a small amount of oil onto the ground. "Your lighter," he said, holding out a hand to Sam who handed it over and watched as Castiel flicked the flame at the edge of the pool of oil. It ignited at once, burning with a rich orange flame.

"This is holy fire," Castiel said. "If an angel was to pass through the flames, he would be destroyed."

"Hang on," Sam said, hope kindling inside him. "You mean this could kill an angel?"

"A seraph," Castiel amended. "Not an archangel. The most it would do to an archangel is momentarily banish them. That and hurt immensely. Raphael will not risk being banished and he will not want to suffer the agony of touching the flame."

Sam could still see one gaping hole in the plan though. "How are we luring him out though?" Sam asked.

Castiel looked a little apologetic. "I don't know."

Sam sighed heavily. Even though the plan was shaky and likely-to-fail, it was a plan, and that was more than they'd started the day with.

"Uh," Dean raised a tentative hand, "I might have an idea."

Dean pressed the doorbell and then stepped back, waiting. There was movement through the glass, and he saw it pause for a moment.

"Open up, Chuck," Sam said loudly. "We're coming in either way."

The figure through the window came close and there was the sound of multiple locks disengaging. The door creaked open and Chuck peered out. "Hey, guys," he said with forced cheer.

"Hey," Dean said, and Sam nodded to him.

Chuck stepped back and Dean followed Sam inside.

Dean looked around the room they came into, taking in the empty liquor bottle on the desk and dirty glass. If he'd given it much thought, he would have guessed Chuck lived in a place like this—it was a free world approximation of the cabin he'd had in that hellish future vision.

"You know why we're here?" Sam asked.

Chuck grimaced. "Yeah. I don't suppose there's any way I can persuade you to change your mind, is there?"

"That depends," Sam said. "Have you seen if it'll work?"

"I've seen you talking to him," Chuck admitted. "That's when I freaked out and woke up. For the record, I think this is a really bad idea and don't want any part of it."

"We don't want to involve you, but you're our best shot," Dean said apologetically. "We need to talk to him."

"Yeah," Chuck sighed. "I know. Do me a favor though. Come outside before you start. I don't want my floor scorched."

Sam nodded and they filed out through the kitchen into the backyard.

Dean understood Chuck's reluctance, as he felt the same way. He was afraid Raphael was going to slip through the trap and get away, possibly with one of them as hostage to hand-deliver to their respective archangel. There were so many ways it could go wrong, but, as he had told Chuck, it was their best shot at getting some answers. The fact Chuck had seen them talking with Raphael was great; it meant they had a chance at least.

Dean tried to reassure Chuck with a glance while Sam poured the circle of holy oil on the paved ground.

"Ready, Chuck?" Sam asked, straightening and stowing the cask of holy oil back in his duffel.

"Yeah," Chuck sighed. "Ready when you are. Be gentle."

Sam stepped back and closed his eyes. When they opened again it was like he was a different person—a person without care for anyone else. Dean hated the sight, but he had to play his part.

Dean couldn't be sure whether Chuck was playing along or if he was actually scared as he raised his hands in front of him and said, "Sam, please don't."

Sam's dead eyes fixed on him as he stepped forward into his space and pulled back an arm. Chuck cowered back. "Please," he whispered.

Sam's fist struck out and landed a blow to the side of Chuck's face. Dean's eyes raked the yard as he rushed forward and grabbed Sam's arms, playing his part while hoping desperately that Raphael would show up soon. When Sam drove himself forward, Dean's grip failed and Sam was able to pull his Taurus from the back of his pants. He aimed it at Chuck's chest and his eyes narrowed.

"Sam, no!" Dean shouted, unsure if he was acting anymore. He wasn't sure—and would never in life ask—whether Sam would have shot Chuck in the name of the mission. It didn't matter though, as at that moment a bolt of lightning shot from the cloudless sky and struck the ground.

"Finally," Sam breathed.

Dean hadn't seen Raphael before, but he recognized the man that appeared in front of them from Sam's description. Even without that, he would have known it was an archangel, as the man exuded confidence and power.

He sneered. "Winchesters."

"Dick," Sam said coolly.

He advanced toward them, and Sam smiled smugly as he unknowingly stepped into the center of the holy oil circle. Dean wasted no time flicking open his lighter and sparking it. He dropped it down onto the oil and flames roared up.

Raphael looked down at the flames that surrounded him and then up to look at them again. "Mistake."

Sam shrugged, showing none of the fear Dean felt.

"You guys mind if I…?" Without waiting for an answer, Chuck fled into the house.

"Why have you brought me here?" Raphael asked.

"You mean why have we trapped you here?" Sam asked. "Well, personally, I want to shiv you with your own blade for what you did to Castiel, but that would be working against myself. We have a few questions for you, and you're going to answer, or we're going to flambé you with holy fire."

Raphael looked supremely untroubled. "What do you want to know?"

"Cas!" Sam called.

The sound of Castiel's appearance was lost in Raphael's cruel laughter. "Castiel," he said. "What can you possibly want from me?"

"Answers," Castiel replied.

Sam stepped back to stand beside Dean, letting Castiel hold the position of power ahead of them. Dean felt their tension like a sixth sense, and he was sure they were thinking of the last time they'd faced the archangel—when Castiel had been murdered.

"Where is God?" Castiel asked.

Raphael's eyes were mocking. "Don't you already know, Castiel? Surely you cannot be that ignorant."

Dean felt a flicker of hope. It sounded like Raphael knew more than they did. The hope that they might come out of this with an actual location made Dean's heart beat faster.

"He's dead," Raphael said with relish.

Dean saw Sam jerk at his side, as if he had been hit with an electric shock. Dean struggled to conceal his own reaction. If what Raphael said was true, they were lost. There was no one and nothing that could help them.

"He is not," Castiel said. "He cannot be."

"Really? If He is alive, where is He? The world is on the precipice of destruction, and He does nothing to help. No, Castiel, He cannot still alive be in the face of all this."

"Destruction you kick-started," Dean said angrily.

"Do you not see the abomination that stands beside you?" Raphael asked. "Your brother started the apocalypse when he killed Lilith. We merely set the scene; he took center stage and made it happen."

Sam glowered at him but didn't speak.

"If God is dead, who brought me back?" Castiel asked.

"Lucifer," Raphael said simply. "He knows you will help bring about the end now that you have allied yourself with the Winchesters."

"I don't believe it," Sam said.

Raphael ignored him as completely as if he hadn't spoken. "You're Fallen, Castiel. Even if God lived, He would not help you now. You belong to Lucifer."

"No," Castiel said a low voice.

Raphael looked up at the sky and smiled with satisfaction. Storm clouds were rolling overhead and it was starting to drizzle. Dean realized their mistake in trapping the angel outside at once.

"Cas!" he said forcefully.

"Flee, Castiel," Raphael said superiorly. "I will let you go this time. But try to trap me again, any of you, and I will flense the flesh from your bones."

Castiel turned to them and Dean saw the absolute devastation on his face for a moment before he swept them away.

One again, they were gathered in the kitchen of The Roadhouse. The bar was full of people now, so they couldn't speak freely in the open. Castiel stood against the counter while Dean and Sam sat at the table.

Dean was looking thoughtfully down at his clasped hands, thinking over what had happened. He wasn't sure he believed God was dead, but that might be just because he didn't want to believe. If it was true, they were once again without hope.

As if Castiel had plucked the thought from his mind, he said, "It is not true."

Dean looked up. "It's not?"

Castiel shook his head. "It cannot be." He smiled slightly. "There is only one being capable of killing God, and that is Death."

"Death as in the horsemen Death?" Dean asked.

"Yes. He is the most powerful of the quartet. He is also trapped. The last time he roamed was in Noah's lifetime. He was trapped deep underground after the flood."

"God was still kicking around after that, right?" Sam said. "So… He literally can't be dead?"

Castiel nodded approvingly. "Exactly. He lives. It's just…"

Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "We have no idea where He is, you know, living."

"So, we're just as screwed as we were this morning," Sam said.

Castiel didn't speak which was answer enough.

"No offence, Cas, but your dad is a dick," Sam growled. "Next time you see Him, tell Him I think so."

Castiel looked uncomfortable. "I have never seen Him."

Dean gaped. "You're kidding, right?"

Castiel shook his head. "Only a handful of angels have actually seen His face, and another speaks to Him."

Sam lurched to his feet. "You've never even spoken to Him? You have to be kidding me! We're pinning all our hope on a dude that has never even gotten off His throne long enough to speak to His own damn angels?" He pushed back his hair from his face roughly. "This is freaking bullshit!"

"Sam," Dean said softly.

"No!" Sam snapped, rounding on him. "Don't you see, Dean, we're screwed. He's not going to help us. We don't have a chance of finding Him. Screw this!" He yanked open the door and marched out into the rain.

Dean watched him go, frowning. He wanted to follow, but he knew Sam was in no state to deal with his presence. He needed time to come to terms with what had happened and what it meant.

He turned to Castiel to apologize for what Sam had said, and he was shocked to see a small, speculative smile playing at the corners of Castiel's mouth.

"What?" he asked. "What, Cas?"

"I think I have an idea," Castiel said slowly. "We don't need to find God; we just need to speak to Him. There's a problem though."

Dean held back a groan with effort. Of course there was. "Yeah?"

"The only angel that I know He speaks to doesn't leave Heaven. The only way to speak to him is in Heaven."

"But you're banished," Dean said.

"Yes," Castiel agreed.

"Then how are we supposed to talk to this angel?"

Castiel looked annoyed. "I don't know. I cannot reach him. I need someone in Heaven."

"You need someone dead," Dean said. He would offer himself up—it wouldn't be forever after all—but he didn't have a ticket upstairs. Just because the angels had plucked him out of Hell, it didn't mean the contract that sent him to Hell in the first place wasn't still in effect. "Sorry, Cas," he said. "If there was a way, you know I'd be there, but…"

"I would never ask that of you. Heaven is to be your reward, not your day excursion."

"Hold up. You're saying I am going upstairs?"

Castiel frowned. "Of course. You both are."

"Both of us?" Dean made no attempt to keep the awe from his voice.

"Yes, Dean," Castiel said patiently. "Sam has already been there, though of course he doesn't remember. A soul's worth is slated by actions of a lifetime, not a single mistake."

"But… my deal?"

"Was voided the moment I touched you in Hell. You will have Heaven, Dean."

Dean breathed out in a rush. They would have Heaven. When it was all over, they could have peace, not the blades and fire of Hell. Then something occurred to him and he winced. "You can't tell him."

"Sam?" Castiel asked.

"Yes. He can't know we're slated for Heaven."

"Don't you think it would give him peace of mind to know?"

"You can't tell him yet," he amended. "If Sam knows we need to speak to someone in Heaven, and he's slated for Heaven, he'll…"

"Be dead before the day is out," Castiel said.

"Exactly. I can't do it, Cas. I can't bear to lose him again. And Ellen, she's already so scared. She can't handle losing him again either."

"I won't tell him," Castiel said, nodding. "Though I think he should know."

"I'll tell him when it's the right time. As soon as we save the world, I will make sure he knows, I swear." He would give his brother the gift of that knowledge. He wouldn't leave him to be afraid.

"We need to find someone else with access to Heaven," Castiel said thoughtfully. "I need an angel."

"Cas, the last angel we met was the one that stabbed you in the neck. Anna is cut off from Heaven, too. Who can we ask?"

Castiel considered carefully for a moment, and then a wide smile spread across his features. "A friend."

When Sam had finally calmed himself enough that he could be in the presence of others, he went back to The Roadhouse and entered through the kitchen door. He came to a stop immediately and his voice rose. "What the hell are you doing?"

The kitchen table had been cleared and a bowl of herbs lay in the center. Around it were candles and a chalk circle with symbols. Whatever he had walked in on was clearly a spell of some kind.

Dean spun to look at him. "Easy, Sam. It's just a summoning spell. Totally safe."

"What are we summoning?" he asked.

"An angel."

Sam raked a hand over his face and said, "Okay, skimming over the fact the last angel we came into contact with was more than ready to 'flense the flesh from our bones', why do we want an angel?"

"I need to speak to him," Castiel replied.

"Cas had an idea," Dean said. "There's this angel that talks to God. We figured if we could get a message to him somehow, he could help us. Cas said he doesn't leave Heaven, so we need to get someone with Heavenly access to speak to him. He's got a friend he's going to ask."

"And how do we know this 'friend' is still Team Cas? You did Fall after all."

"He wouldn't deny me for that," Castiel said. "He would understand."

"What's his name?" Sam asked.

Castiel answered as he threw a burning match down onto the bowl of herbs. "Balthazar."

Flames roared up and died down quickly and a man appeared. Sam was used to angels dressing in suits and generally looking like constipated tax accountants, but this angel did not fit that mold. They way he held himself spoke of self-assurance and power, but not in the stick-up-the-ass way Uriel had personified.

His arrival had brought him face to face with Sam, and his eyes widened with recognition. "Oh. Not good," he said dully.

Sam was rather enjoying the angel's discomfort but Castiel called his name and the angel turned. "Castiel." His tone was inflectionless.

Castiel's expression was a mask and Sam saw his hand twitch, as if he was preparing to draw his blade. "Balthazar," he said solemnly.

Dean shifted from foot to foot and Sam walked around the table to stand with him. If this had been an epic mistake and the angel was going to attack, Sam was going to fight side by side with his brother.

"You brought me here, to them," Balthazar asked, jerking his chin at Sam and Dean.

"We need your help," Castiel said.

"You need someone's," he agreed. "What you were thinking summoning me here…" He shook his head dolefully. "I should kill you, you know."

Sam stepped forward, though what he could do to defend, he wasn't sure.

Balthazar looked amused. "Look at the little monkey. Thinks it's so strong."

"You touch him, I will find a way to kill you," Sam vowed.

Balthazar threw his head back and laughed. "I can see why you like them, Cas. They're quite amusing."

Castiel laid a hand on Sam's arm and said, "Balthazar, that is enough! Help or be banished."

Dean slammed the kitchen door closed and Sam saw a blood banishing sigil painted on the door. They had at least prepared.

"Why would I risk myself helping you?" Balthazar asked.

"You will help because you are indebted to me for millennia of sacrifice and saving."

Balthazar raised an eyebrow. "You're different, Castiel. You're almost human now. Is that what Falling does to you?"

"Are you helping us or not?" Sam asked truculently.

Balthazar narrowed his eyes at Sam for a moment and then he turned to Castiel. "You're right, I do owe you, but I have no desire to join you among the humans. What help I will give depends on what you need."

"We need to speak to Joshua," Castiel said in a rush. "I need you to get a message to him. He must come to Earth."

"Why not just send your marmoset?" he asked, gesturing to Dean. "He's got a return ticket courtesy of Michael and that way I don't have to risk my neck."

"Dean is not dying!" Sam growled stepping into Balthazar's space with his fists clenched. He might not be able to kill, but he could vent his fury by trying to break the angel's nose.

"Control your pet, Castiel," Balthazar said in a bored tone.

"Sam," Castiel said softly. "Dean is not dying. Balthazar will help us."

"I will?"

"You will," Castiel said confidently.

Balthazar pressed a hand to his forehead. "Fine. I'll help. Let it never be said I don't pay my debts."

"Thank you, Balthazar."

"Don't mention it. Ever in fact." He sighed. "I will speak to Joshua and try to persuade him to speak with you. I make no guarantees." He glanced at Castiel. "I swear, Cas, if this comes back on me, I will make sure you go down first. Understand?"

"I understand," Castiel said serenely.

Balthazar disappeared and Dean breathed out in a rush. "Damn, Cas, that was intense. I thought he was a friend of yours."

"He is. That is why he's helping us."

Dean looked confused but Sam understood. Dean had good friends that would do whatever it took to help him. Sam had known more than his share of letdowns in his life, and he had been one more than once himself. Travis and Rick, for example, had died because he had let them down. He could only hope Balthazar wouldn't let Castiel down now.

Dean was worried. They were pinning their hopes on Castiel's friend coming though for them, and he hadn't seemed that good a friend to Dean. How were they to know he hadn't gone straight to Michael to tattle on Castiel? Anna had been slated to die for Falling, and Castiel had done more than that. He'd help Dean escape, pitting himself against the other angels in their quest for the apocalypse. There had to be a really big punishment waiting for him at the other end if they lost the fight.

They had been waiting for news for almost an hour after Balthazar's departure when Castiel suddenly stiffened.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Balthazar," Castiel said as explanation and greeting as the angel appeared beside him.

Sam scowled at the newcomer and Dean wished he'd tone it down a little. He didn't want to piss off their best hope at help.

"Well?" Sam asked.

Balthazar ignored him completely and spoke to Castiel. "Joshua has consented to speak to you. He is in Keukenhof Gardens."

"Thank you, Balthazar," Castiel said fervently.

"You can thank me by keeping me out of your problems in future," Balthazar said. "I will not come again." Without giving them a chance to answer, he disappeared.

"You know where these gardens are, Cas?" Sam asked.

"The Netherlands," Castiel said.

Dean exchanged a surprised glance with Sam and then they were being moved without their own impetus. When they came to a stop, Dean's senses were filled with beautiful colors, scents and sounds. There were flowers everywhere, and a pond with a running waterfall. Dean took it all in, awed, his attention only snapping to what mattered with Sam's voice.

"Are you Joshua?"

Dean's gaze followed Sam's and he saw a dark-skinned man smiling benevolently at them. He had to be approaching sixty, and his beard and hair were threaded with grey. Despite the fact he was dressed in an open collar shirt and casual jacket, he looked more like the kind of angel that Dean had imagined before he actually met one. There was just something about him that calmed and soothed Dean's ragged nerves.

"I am," he said.

Sam took a breath and Dean laid a hand on his arm. He wasn't sure what approach Sam was going to take with the angel—demands or anger maybe—but he doubted it would be the right one. Sam stayed quiet, and Dean spoke.

"I'm Dean Winchester."

"I know," Joshua said with a smile. "And I know what you want from me."

"Can you help us?" Sam asked.

Joshua smile faded as he shook his head. "I cannot. You are searching for God. I don't know where He is."

"You know something though," Dean guessed.

"I know He is on Earth.

"Okay, can you get a message to Him for us?" Sam asked.

"I can, but it will do no good," Joshua said. "In fact, I have a message for you. Back off."

Sam's eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?"

Joshua looked apologetic. "He knows already. Everything you want to tell Him. He knows what the angels are doing. He knows that the Apocalypse has begun. He just doesn't think it's His problem.

"Not His problem?" Dean asked, stunned.

"His kids are trying to end the damn world!" Sam said, his voice rising.

"I know," Joshua said. "But He will not intervene. He will not be found, magic amulet or not. He is done."

"He will not be moved?" Castiel asked.

"No. I am sorry. I know how much this matters to you all. There is no way of changing His mind, though. The answer is no."

Sam turned away and his hand came to his face. Dean wondered if he'd weakened to one of his rare moments of open emotion.

"What do we do then?" Dean asked desperately.

Joshua looked at him sadly. "I think you already know the answer to that, Dean. You do what you must to save as many as you can while you can."

Sam spun on his heel and glared at the angel. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Joshua didn't answer. With one more sympathetic look at them, he was gone.

So… Balthazar. I know he wasn't the angel we're accustomed to from S6, but at this point he is still loyal to Heaven and I figured that'd make him a little different. It's a shame though, as I love to write flouncy Balthy.

Thank you all for the supportive reviews and PMs. I can't tell you how much it means to me to hear that you're all enjoying the story still.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx