A/N: HOY CRAP! IT'S PLOT! Yeah, I bribed my internal Dean with promises of pie at some point and he has agreed to go forward with actual PLOT now instead of just snuggling a lot. *sigh* Ok, things are starting to kick off a little more now. Hopefully this will clear up some confusion and answer some questions about what is going on with tiny Cas. This chapter DOES include a minor OC. I made him up and I like him for some reason. XD Heh. Anyway, this is kind of a long chapter but I didn't want to break it up since it all worked well together.
At a little past two in the afternoon, Sam and Dean were at last awoken by the less than polite cleaning woman who pounded on their door like the place was burning down. Dean barely had enough time to shoot out of the bed before she had unlocked the room and let herself in, a stack of fresh linens in her arms. Sam blinked at her through the tangled curtain of his hair while Dean stood like a deer in the proverbial headlights at the foot of Sam's bed. He watched the maid's eyes flick between him, his empty bed, and the one where Sam was still groggily trying to piece together the situation. Dean offered her an embarrassed smile and spread his hands helplessly. "Er, Hi! Uh…towels," he said quickly, grasping at any topic he could think of that might distract her from what he knew this must look like, "yeah, we…we need..towels." He moved forward quickly and snatched the armload of folded white cotton from her hands while trying to ignore the appreciative and entirely inappropriate grin spreading over her face. "Thanks. Thank you. We're good now." He shooed her back out the door as quickly as he could while she rattled off something in spanish that left Sam looking utterly mortified, his face going a full three shades redder. As the door clicked shut Dean looked back over at his brother. "I don't want to know what she said, do I?"
Sam shook his head emphatically, "No, and for the sake of my sanity I don't want to repeat it."
Dean nodded. "Right. You can keep that particular piece of mental scarring to yourself then." He headed quickly for his overnight bag, depositing the towels into a chair along the way, and rifled through it to locate his toothbrush. When he looked up again Sam was staring at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Dean…should I even ask why the hell you were in my bed last night?"
Dean shot him a sheepish and rather uncomfortable look. "Uh…Cas. He…uh..well, see he fell and…uh…"
Sam's eyes flew wide and he cut his brother's stumbling efforts off. "He FELL? Oh my god, is he ok?" He shot up and looked frantically to his other side only to find Castiel quietly curled up in the warm spot Dean had just vacated. The infant blinked at him calmly and Sam let a little of his tension ease off. He scooted closer and drew Cas to him as tenderly as he could, his eyes scanning for any indications of injury but, finding none, he blew out a sigh and let his shoulders sag. Cas reached up and curled his fingers around one of Sam's much larger ones, drawing a reluctant smile from the hunter. Once again the angel appeared to have aged overnight and now more closely resembled an eight month old child than a three day old infant.
"Yeah, he's fine. He's a tough little SOB." Dean grinned, grateful for the distraction that had taken his brother's mind off the otherwise awkward situation.
Sam on the other hand had not forgotten. He shot his brother a mildly irritated look. "Yeah, well, that doesn't really explain why you were in my bed but next time just wake me up, ok? I'm not five anymore and it's kinda creepy waking up next to you."
Dean, ever the sort to play off his discomfort by making a joke of it all, grinned from ear to ear and walked over to Sam's side of the bed. "Aw, come on Sammy. Don'tcha love me anymore?" he teased leaning over and trying to hug Sam in a way he knew his baby brother would never allow.
Sam predictably recoiled and swatted at Dean's arms. "Dude, no. Get off me!" He slapped a hand into Dean's chest and shoved him away, laughing in spite of himself. Dean grinned at him, ruffled his hair, which he promptly swatted away as well, and then headed for the bathroom to get ready leaving Sam shaking his head in his wake. The rest of the morning progressed fairly smoothly much to Dean's gratitude. He'd played off the sleeping incident as best he could and tried to let that particular awkward moment go in favor of getting some new answers that would hopefully have Cas back to normal soon. He laid out his plan to Sam as they ate and it was received about as well as he might have expected.
"No WAY," Sam shook his head before turning back to where Cas was reaching once again for the honey packets held in a small tray on their table. "It's too dangerous. If there is a rogue angel out there, the last thing we want to do it get its attention," he said as he removed another plastic packet from Castiel's grip. The diner they had stopped in this time was considerably better than the last one they'd visited and its rickety tables were brimming with local townsfolk. The air was filled with raucous laughter, noisy conversations, and the clatter of silverware on plates as locals enjoyed their afternoon lunch and Dean felt fairly safe bringing up his plans since it was doubtful they would be overheard. It also helped that the diner served breakfast all day.
"Hey, if you have a plan B, I'm all ears," Dean said as he shoveled another bite of syrup laden pancake into his mouth. "But I don't see us having a whole lot of options here, Sam."
The younger Winchester paused in his efforts to keep Castiel out of the honey and turned to brandish a packet at Dean that he'd just plucked from the angel's hands. He was oblivious as the infant shot him a look of confusion before reaching for another. "Well, anything is better than throwing up a neon sign to all of heaven pinpointing exactly where we are," Sam said in exasperation, "I mean, I understand what you're trying to do, I just don't think it's a good idea."
"Oh? And calling Crowley, a freakin' DEMON, was any better?" Dean argued around a mouthful of bacon. "C'mon Sam, it's the best option we got and you know it. You and Cas will just stay at the hotel while I go dial the holy bat-phone. I figure we can get someone's attention and ask some questions, dig around a little, see if they know anything. Somebody upstairs has to have heard something. They won't even know you and Cas are here." He took a swig of coffee and shot a challenging look at the young man across the table.
Sam leaned back, realizing he couldn't really argue the point since he had nothing better to offer, and tossed the honey onto the growing pile in front of him. It was only then that he noticed Cas, whom Sam had let sit on the table due to the restaurant's lack of a booster seat, had already gained a new one and was quietly suckling away at it. He sighed in frustration and gently eased that one away as well. "Cas, you can't eat this too much. It's not good for you. Try some fruit instead." He offered up a slice of strawberry in place of the confiscated honey and Cas stared at it for a moment before looking back longingly at the now empty tray that had held all the packets. Dean chuckled and slid the syrup bottle across the table to him but Sam shot him a pissy look and snatched it up before Cas could figure out what was in it. "Look, if you're going to do this, then at least promise me you'll keep your phone on you and let me turn on the gps so I can find you if things go bad, ok?"
Dean shrugged. "Yeah sure. I don't like this any more than you do," he said, popping another bite into his mouth. Sam nodded knowing full well that it was the most he was going to get out of his brother and that once Dean had set his mind to something there was little chance of talking him out of it regardless of how likely it was for this plan to go wrong. He also couldn't think of anything better to offer up instead. What Crowley had told them was disturbing to say the least and he knew full well it also placed a fairly heavy time limit on them what with a powerful demon as well as a renegade angel out hunting for their heads. Regardless of the strong front he'd put up when he'd told Crowley he wasn't going to let Legion affect him, he found himself worried about it anyway. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting Dean, not again. As the vessel of Lucifer he had come very close to outright killing his brother with his bare hands and he wasn't looking forward to testing if he could resist another demonic hold on him. Not with Dean's life at stake.
Sam slid out of the booth to use the restroom a short while later and Dean turned back to a rather forlorn looking Castiel who was left staring at the pile of honey where his brother had been sitting. "Yeah, I know," he said as he snatched up a packet and tore it open before handing it over, "he's a pain in the ass but he means well." Cas's answer was a contented smacking noise as he eagerly polished off the sticky treat he'd been handed. He set down the empty wrapper and looked back at the pile again but made no move to reclaim his own breakfast as if waiting for permission to do so. Dean smiled lopsidedly at him and drew the angel across the table to settle into his lap where he knew Sam wouldn't reach to get him back. He snagged the syrup bottle off the table and tried to pass it down but Cas looked a little lost as to what to make of it. He gripped tightly to the flexible plastic tube when it was offered to him but he didn't seem to understand what was inside it and he kept looking back to Sam's side of the table eagerly. It wasn't until Dean tipped the bottle up and placed it against the angel's lips that he realized there was more to be had than just the container itself. As soon as the first dollop of thick buttery syrup hit his mouth, Cas happily wrapped his lips around the end and began sucking…much to Sam's utter horror when he returned a minute later.
The brothers had learned long ago from their father that it was best to get lodging on the outskirts of a town as it would let them avoid the majority of traffic and make a clean getaway if things went poorly during a hunt. Dean knew he wasn't going to find what he was looking for that far out though and after dropping Sam and Cas off at the motel he headed in toward the downtown district. It took him a good hour of hunting, driving slowly from one block to the next, but eventually he spotted a middle aged man in a business suit standing on a street corner in one of the dirtier sections of town. He was shouting something at those who passed by but Dean didn't need to make out the exact words to know he'd found the right type of person. If the bible clutched in the man's arms wasn't enough of an indicator, his occasional need to flail it at the people who walked past certainly was and Dean guided the impala over to a corner just up the road. He slid from the car and headed calmly toward the shouting zealot who paused as he came within a few feet. "Hi," Dean said jovially, "Need you to send a message for me. You tell those pompous feathered assholes upstairs that Dean Winchester wants a word with them." He crossed his arms, immeasurably pleased with the look of shock and horror that crossed the preacher's face and waited patiently while the man dropped to his knees and began praying loudly for the angels to forgive Dean of his transgressions.
Dean rolled his eyes and checked his watch as the crier ranted toward the sky. After a good five minutes of listening to the evangelist scream out his prayer, Dean had heard about as much as he could take and he began considering what other options he might have for getting an angel's attention. He decided that having wild passionate sex on an altar, while fun, would probably only serve to get him arrested, though he did spend a longer amount of time than was strictly necessary thinking that one through. He considered finding an actual preacher and seeing if they might have better luck reaching out to an angel on his behalf but he figured that one person praying loudly was just as effective as another and it didn't seem to be working so well at the moment. He even thought very hard about punching the crap out of the man kneeling in front of him as the obnoxious prayer reached a crescendo but he doubted that would be enough to make an angel take note even if it would make him feel better.
After another five minutes spent waiting, Dean's own silent prayer began for the heavenly messenger to arrive if only to shut up the idiot still kneeling in front of him. He finally threw up his hands in disgust and turned back for the car since it looked like his plan wasn't going to work after all. Perhaps no one was manning the angel-phone anymore since the apocalypse had been ended already. Dean climbed back into the impala, having just resigned himself to finding a different way, and slid the keys into the ignition. He took one last glance in his rearview at the man on the corner and was met instead with a pair of soulful brown eyes staring back at him from the reflection. Dean jumped and whipped around, his pistol already in his hand and aimed for the backseat. There, sitting as still as a mannequin, was a young man in his early twenties. He was dressed casually in a simple t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts despite the slight chill that had stirred up in the northern town and a pair of sandals adorned his feet. His face was boyish with wide bright eyes and the top of his head was crowned in a long sandy Mohawk that was laying flat and gathered into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He looked more like a skater kid from Miami than an angel but Dean knew better. The blank expressionless stare he was getting was strikingly familiar to another certain celestial he knew and he wondered if that expression was taught in angel school.
"Dean Winchester," the young man said in a surprisingly soothing voice, "my name is Hezrial. I am an angel of the Lord."
"Yeah, I got that. Thanks," Dean snapped, "What is it with you people? Can't you ever just show up in a way that doesn't scare the bejesus out of me? I've been standing out there listening to that idiot scream to the high heavens for the past ten minutes. You couldn't just walk up and say hi?"
Hezrial cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow a bit in a way that was so like Cas it actually irritated Dean to see someone else do it. "You called for heavenly assistance, Dean. I am sorry you are not receiving it in the way you want." The tone of the angel's voice was flat and even but despite this Dean could almost swear the guy really was sorry he wasn't happy. If only he could believe that angels gave that much of a damn.
"Whatever," Dean grumbled, "I just need some answers ok? Now get up in the front seat, Mrs. Daisy. I'm not chauffeuring you around." He turned back to the steering wheel and re-holstered his weapon. If this guy was their rogue angel then a gun wasn't going to do a whole lot of good against it anyway. Hezrial didn't strike him as the renegade sort though as he climbed obediently into the front and turned to look at Dean once more. The hunter pulled the car away from the curb and they headed back toward the other side of town in relative silence. He certainly wasn't going to lead the angel right to Sam and Cas but driving had always helped him think more clearly and he wanted to be as far from the zealot on the corner as possible in case any other angels were listening in. In the distance he could just make out the spires of a church rising high above the rest of the buildings and he figured it was as good a place as any for their meeting.
Hezrial waited with utter patience as Dean wove through traffic and the longer he sat silent and still, the more it irked Dean on some level he couldn't put his finger on. "So," he coughed, "How're things in heaven?"
The angel turned to cast him a blank stare. "You didn't call me all the way down here just to make small talk, Dean. You are searching for Castiel."
The flat proclamation made the hunter a little uneasy but he decided to play along for the moment instead of revealing that he knew exactly where Cas was. The curious thing was that the other angel didn't and it made something in Dean's instincts scream. "Hey, you got me. We put his mug on milk cartons but no luck and he hasn't had his shots so I'm a little worried. Any idea where he went?" Dean quipped. He cast a surreptitious glance over at the angel but found that he was met with an unblinking stare.
"Castiel is missing," Hezrial said flatly, "No one in heaven knows where our brother is. Gabriel is also missing and though we have half the host searching for them, we cannot locate them." The angel inclined his head and the intensity of his gaze increased. "But you already know that, don't you, Dean Winchester? So why have you called for heaven's assistance?"
Dean swallowed hard under the scrutiny of Hezrial gaze. He wasn't sure how much to reveal now that he was face to face with the angel but he had a feeling lying at this point wasn't going to get him anywhere. He'd made this plan, he didn't have much choice now but to follow through on it. He cleared his throat and tried not to look nervous. "I need to know what you can tell me about baby angels," he said offhandedly. The direct approach seemed best considering the circumstances but it had Dean trying not to squirm in his seat regardless.
Hezrial cocked his head curiously at the hunter and narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing just slightly in the first real display of emotion he'd shown since getting in the car. "I am afraid I do not understand your line of questioning, Dean."
"You know…babies…with wings. Angelets or something? Little bundles of joy? Those things that happen when you're cloud seeding and your hose goes awry?" Dean wasn't really sure where to begin and the thought suddenly occurred to him how large the egg had been that Cas had hatched from. He shuddered hard and tried his best not to imagine that brutal process.
Hezrial remained quiet a few more moments, his piercing gaze boring into Dean so hard that the hunter felt like his very soul was being scoured. Finally, when he spoke at last, his voice was wary. "Angels do not give birth. We do not 'cloud seed' as you put it. Only an angel with a vessel has any ability to procreate and it is strictly forbidden."
Dean quirked an eyebrow. "So then where do new angels come from?"
Hezrial seemed to falter a moment, his gaze sizing the other man up but he answered anyway. "Only god can create new angels. Father makes them and places them within the care of their older brethren but there has been no new clutch of host for over two thousand years. Why do you ask these things, Dean Winchester?"
Dean hedged and tried to swap subjects. He wasn't quite comfortable yet telling this unknown angel about Castiel's unfortunate condition. "Ok, what can you tell me about the demon Belial?"
Well, THAT got a response. Hezrial flinched openly at the name and drew away from Dean as if the hunter had just cursed him, his luminous brown eyes going wide as saucers. He seemed instantly uncomfortable in the confines of the vehicle as if it were suddenly too small and he fell silent as his eyes flitted about in a way that indicated he was looking for someone, as if saying the demon's name might actually summon him. Dean found himself unconsciously speeding up a little and glancing in the rearview. It looked like his passenger might bolt at any sudden movement and anything that made an angel nervous was certainly not something Dean wanted to run into unprepared. After a few seconds the angel relaxed a bit and threw a sidelong glance at Dean. "He isn't a demon," he said after brief but awkward pause, "He's one of the fallen." The words were whispered with something caught between reverence and disgust. "And you would do best to forget that name. You are no longer needed as the vessel of Michael, Dean, and while all of the host know who you are and what you did, few have time to answer your call anymore. You would be hard pressed to get any assistance."
Dean's irritation flared. "Yeah, then what are you doing here? If everyone in heaven is so damned busy then why did you show up?"
Hezrial looked away and a ghost of a smile passed over his face. "Castiel likes you," he said quietly, "My brother is strong and was brave to resist the will of his command in favor of the will of father." The way the angel was speaking bordered somewhere on the lines of hero worship. "It takes a lot of wisdom to see the difference though most say he only did it because of his affection for you." He turned those soulful eyes back in Dean's direction making the other man squirm. It made him decidedly uncomfortable to be stared at that way. "I wanted to see what he saw. I wanted to know what had driven him to rebel against his brothers. What he saw in you that made you worth that fight."
Dean pointedly looked anywhere but at his passenger, determined not to meet the penetrating stare that was making him feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. "And?"
"And I think I understand now," Hezrial said softly.
Dean finally risked looking over at him. "Thanks for the vote of confidence but I swear if you try to hug me or anything creepy like that, I will shoot you." He shifted a little farther toward his own window and breathed a grateful sigh when he pulled up beneath the massive rose window of the St. Andrew's church. "Look, let's move this little pow wow inside. I have some other questions I'd like answers to and …" He turned to look at the angel but found the passenger seat was already empty and when he turned back to the church, it was to find Hezrial patiently standing on the narrow stone steps leading inside. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and spat out a few choice curses. "Freakin' angels," he grumbled as he slid out of the car. Hezrial followed him through the blast of cold air into the main nave of the church. Long dark wood pews hunkered in neat rows beneath windows that painted them in a blanket of dazzling colors and a plush but well worn carpet stretched like a red arrow straight down between them, terminating at the foot of a sparse but pretty altar. Dean skirted around the small basin of holy water and meandered down the aisle. Behind him he could hear the shuffling footfalls indicating Hezrial was still tailing him like a lost puppy and after taking a quick look around to see if anyone else was about, he turned to face the angel. Only to come face to face with him. Hezrial had also apparently never heard of personal space and Dean took a quick step back as he almost bumped into the other man.
"Hey, whoa. Little close there, pal. I don't need you to check my breath, alright? Jeez." Dean paused and met the even stare of his companion. The way he was being looked at made his nerves rankle and he rolled his shoulders as if to brush off the eyes that had locked onto him. "Dude. Seriously. Stop staring. You are freakin' me the hell out." Dean shot him a last grouchy look and turned away. "So, don't suppose you could tell me if there's anyone up there that might want Cas or Gabe out of the way, huh? Anybody they might have pissed off lately?"
"No, not that I am aware."
"Right, so everything in heaven is just peachy," Dean said with disbelief.
"It IS heaven, Dean," Hezrial said with all the patience of one talking to a very young child.
"Yeah, well I've been there, ok? So spare me the huggy kissy kumbaya crap. You said everyone was too busy to help us anymore. Why?" He turned sharply on the angel.
Hezrial blinked languidly in the face of Dean's anger. "Most of the archangels, with the exception of Gabriel, had gone missing in the aftermath of the apocalypse. The host was in a state of chaos. Then Castiel returned, reinstated by Father himself, and he began the task of reorganizing heaven. When Gabriel showed up, also returned to us by Father's hand, most angels began to fall back into their appointed roles. Peace was starting to settle again." A look of something wistful passed over the angel's face but it was shunted aside so quickly that Dean could hardly register it. "Then, three days ago, Castiel and Gabriel went missing. They have many duties in heaven right now and when they did not return to them, a search was begun." If Dean didn't know better, he would have said that a look of worry flitted over the angel's face when he began speaking again. "There are…rumors. Some say that something ill has befallen our brothers and that the role of leadership must be filled quickly. So many of the host have been lost over these short years. There is much struggle right now as without the archangels there is no clear leader. Many are putting their name forward." He shook his head and looked at Dean. "I do not believe my brothers are dead. Nor can I believe that one of our own has harmed them."
Dean knew the statement was more Hezrial trying to reassure himself rather than anything meant for his ears. He also knew what it felt like to want to bury your head in the sand and pretend that those you cared about most weren't capable of horrible things. "I hate to be the one to break this to you, but I don't think you know your family as well as you hope. I can tell you for a fact that an angel had something to do with what's happened to Cas and Gabe."
Hezrial seemed to perk up at this and he cocked his head at Dean. "How can you know this?"
Dean leaned back casually against the pew behind him and weighed his options. His gut was telling him that Hezrial wasn't their rogue and he could certainly use all the help they might be able to get. Perhaps it was the slight gleam of anxiousness in the other being's eyes that was the final straw. He knew what it was like to be missing a brother and not have any idea where he was or if he was ok. "Because I know what's happened to Cas and only an angel could have done it. Look, Cas is fine right now…ok, maybe 'fine' is stretching it, but he's not hurt. He's just kinda rockin' it pre-school instead of old-school."
Hezrial took a step forward before he seemed to catch himself. "You know where he is? What has happened?"
Dean swallowed and tried to force a smile onto his face. "So you know that question I was asking you earlier? About the whole baby angel thing?" he said as lightly as he could.
The other man's expression morphed from utter confusion to shock to confusion again. "You mean…my brother has been reduced to a newborn again? I do not understand."
The hunter shrugged. "You ain't the only one, pal. But yeah, Cas is now part of the diaper crowd. He hatched out of a friggin' egg a couple days ago. As for why, we think that someone wants to use him for some kind of ritual."
Hezrial looked horrified at the whole idea and he shook his head in denial before turning and wandering up the walkway a few paces, his face twisted in deep thought. When he finally turned back to Dean, he seemed to have accepted the situation as truth and his brow was set with deep lines of worry. "This is…very troublesome. The grace of a newly formed angel is far weaker than that of one who is fully developed and it will make him vulnerable. I pray you are wrong about the intention to sacrifice him. To kill a new formed angel is an ultimate act of sacrilege, an act so evil that it can do irreparable damage. Any number of demons would benefit…" He looked away suddenly and Dean could almost see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in the angel's head. "Belial," he whispered, "you believe he is behind this? Surely we would have heard if he had freed himself from his confines. He would be powerful enough to have changed Castiel in this way but he could not do so from the depths of hell."
Dean pushed off from the pew. "Yeah, that's the problem. See we know he's involved, we just don't know how he's doing all this. We think he's got help from somebody in upper management."
"No," Hezrial said, "He can't. It would take more than just a random angel to do what you claim has befallen my brother. Only an archangel first class could make such a change and with Gabriel also missing, that leaves no angel in all of heaven who could have done this. Have you any word of Gabriel?"
"Kinda but you're not gonna like it." Dean shot him a sympathetic look. "We think Belial has him already and that he's got plans to use him in some mumbo jumbo sacrifice that's supposed to seal off Lucy's cage all the way."
If angels could pale, Dean would swear Hezrial actually did which meant he probably knew exactly what ritual the hunter was referring to. The young man swallowed and looked up forlornly at the carving of an emaciated looking Jesus above the altar. "We will continue to seek out Gabriel's location. You should bring Castiel to me."
Dean's hackles raised instantly. "I don't think so."
As the angel looked at him again, the mask of infuriating calm slid back into place. "He isn't safe here, Dean. You cannot protect him this way. Your human eyes are barely even capable of looking at him, how will you defend him?"
"Oh I can see him just fine," Dean snapped, "little fluffy wings and all. And there is no way in hell I'm handing him over to someone I don't even know."
Hezrial cocked his head slightly. "'Fluffy little wings'?" he echoed in obvious confusion. "Newly formed hosts would appear as little more than a bright flare of light to humans. They have not been around long enough to have formed any sort of shape yet." He seemed to contemplate the situation for another minute and then looked up with raised eyebrows. "His vessel," he said pointedly. Dean could only raise an eyebrow in question. "James Novak. His vessel. If Castiel was still within that body when he was reverted back to a juvenile form, it is entirely possible that his vessel would have been reverted with him. You said he hatched from an egg so he must have been pushed pretty far back into his forming. The human body he possesses, if regressed that far, could have been reduced to little more than its basic components and mingled with his grace. It would explain why you are able to see him and the manifestation of his wings."
Dean stared at him humorlessly. "Fascinating. Now, if we're done with 'Wild Kingdom' over here, I'm leaving." He started for the door and found his way blocked as Hezrial stepped in front of him.
"Dean, regardless of Castiel's physical form, his grace is still diminished. He must be protected until we find Gabriel. My brother can put this right, he can change Castiel back, but we cannot risk the Fallen getting their hands on him. You must take me to Castiel. I will take him back to heaven where he will be safe."
Dean met the angel's imploring look with a scowl. "Dude, I don't know if you have a hearing problem or not, but I already said I'm not handing him over to you. We still don't know if there's a rogue out there somewhere."
"I told you that there is no angel powerful enough to have done this," Hezrial started but Dean cut him off abruptly.
"That's nice but I'm not about to take your word for it. Cas is fine with us. I'm not gonna let you just drag him off to god knows where and hope that there's not a Judas among your happy pack of apostles. You just concentrate on finding Gabe and I'll worry about Cas." He pushed past the angel and headed for the exit but as he opened the door to the church he almost ran smack into the very same angel again. Hezrial was standing utterly stiff and straight on the steps and the look in his eyes reminded Dean quickly that he wasn't just talking to some punk kid with a silly mohawk.
"Dean Winchester, I cannot allow you to keep Castiel in this manner. I am taking him," he said with finality and Dean was pretty sure he meant it, even if he had to take Cas back by force.
Dean took a step back and shrugged his jacket off. "Yeah, I kinda figured at some point, whoever I was going to wind up talking to was going to act like a complete dick and let me tell ya, you guys do NOT disappoint," he said, shaking his head as he slipped off his outer shirt as well. Blood ran in a thick smear down his right arm and Hezrial cocked his head at the strange injury that the young Winchester seemed to be ignoring. "Thing is, I've never been pegged as the smart one. See, Sam is the smart one. Me? I'm just the stubborn and incredibly handsome one," he said with a smirk, "and I'm afraid you are going to have to take Cas away over my dead body." He took a menacing step forward toward the angel who looked anything but impressed by the whole display.
"Need I remind you, Dean, that such a thing is perfectly within my capability," Hezrial stated in the same bland tone one would use to discuss the weather.
"Not today, asshole," Dean said with a bright grin, "Let me show you a little trick Cas taught me." He wrenched up his bloody sleeve and there, etched into his arm, was the same enochian symbol Castiel had drawn into his own skin when he'd defended Sam and Dean from Zachariah's bodyguards. It had seemed a fitting homage to use the same tactic in this case as a convenient back door in case things went horribly wrong. Dean threw Hezrial a cocky smile and slapped his hand over the bloodied wound. In a flash of light and a cry of pain, the angel was gone leaving the hunter standing alone on the steps. He sighed and began wrapping the sliced skin with a wad of bandages he pulled from his pocket before retrieving his shirt and jacket. As he climbed back into the car, Dean pulled out his cellphone and flipped it open intent on calling Sam. His display blinked at him however that he had somehow already missed 14 calls, all from the same number. All from his brother. Dean hurriedly dialed into his voicemail and began listening to the messages, each one more frantic than the previous but it was the last one that set his blood running cold.
"Dean, where the hell are you? Legion's right behind us! I can't stay hidden forever. Please, man, please pick up. Oh god…..Dean….hurry…"
The silence that followed those words was the loudest sound Dean had ever heard.