Bring bring, bring bring.
Dean gropes at the bedside table to where his phone is, trying to cut off the annoying sound before it prompts him to kill something.
"Sam it's three forty seven, exactly thirty minutes after I got home, and also when I got back from work. If you don't have a good reason for calling me, I will end you," Dean threatens blearily, looking at the clock next to his head. He needs more than half an hour of sleep.
"Jess is in labour," Sam says excitedly.
Dean sits up, his tiredness half forgotten. "What? When? How?" He asks, while throwing his clothes on.
"The contractions started an hour ago, and they've just taken her into the maternity ward. Dean what if something goes wrong? What if there are complications, and I lose either of them, oh god, I would die, please don't go wrong, don't go wrong –"
"Sam!" Dean yells over his brothers frantic talking. "Nothing's going to go wrong. You're going to be fine, I promise. I'll be there as soon as I can. What hospital?"
There's a pause. "Dean it'll take you three days to drive here if you don't sleep." But he tells Dean where they are anyway.
"That's why I'm planning on using the angel express," Dean mutters to himself. Louder, "Just hold tight, okay? Jess will be fine. Both of them are going to be fine."
Dean can almost picture Sam nodding frantically on the other end of the line. "Okay, they'll be fine. Okay. Dean they want me in the room," Sam says hysterically.
"Just go in there. You'll be fine. I'll talk to you soon."
"Okay. Thanks Dean."
"No problem."
Sam hangs up and Dean blinks before striding over and turning his light on. He winces at the brightness, and pulls on some jeans and the first shirt his hands touch.
Lacing up his boots, he gets his phone, wallet, and locks his door before standing in the middle of his living room.
Damnit.
He really, really, really wants to be there. Really. But as Sam said, it would take three days to drive, and he doesn't think he's up for another flight anytime soon.
So that leaves one option.
He touches the phone in his pocket, the one he still hasn't given to Cas. He had forgotten every time he'd seen the angel, or Cas had zapped off too quickly for him to say anything about it.
He clears his throat and rubs his hands together, settling for closing his eyes instead of doing anything else associated with praying.
"Uh, to the angel Castiel. From Dean Winchester. If you could swing by my apartment, I'd really appreciate it," he opens one eye. There isn't the normal sound of wings beating that accompanies the angels arriving, and he tries again. "I'd owe you one. Really. Um, yeah. Thanks. Dean Winchester."
"You do not have to say your name twice."
Dean spins around, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Hey Cas."
The angel looks normal. As in, normal for him, which means that he's completely rumpled in a way that makes it look like he's just finished having a roll in the hay. That is bad imagery. Get yourself together. It's just the sleep deprivation.
Cas tilts his head and narrows his eyes slightly. "It is good that you are finally praying. It is a sign of faith."
Dean shrugs slightly. "Yeah, well, I'm kinda desperate."
Cas purses his mouth slightly. "You look rather terrible, even for human standards."
Dean decides that he's not even going to get into the can of worms that was that one. "Right. Anyway, I really need a lift."
Cas narrows his eyes. "I am not here for you convenience Dean," he says lowly.
Dean shifts uncomfortably. "Yeah, I get it. Angelic duties and all that." But the angel had shown up. That was a step in the right direction. "I just need you to drop me off in DC." He tells the name of the hospital to Cas. "Jess has gone into labour."
Cas frowns. "Jess, as in your brother's chosen sexual partner?"
Dean can't help but lift his eyebrows at that. "Uh, I'd appreciate it if you never call her that again, but yeah."
Cas pauses but then nods shallowly. "I should be able to do that."
Dean breathes out. "Thanks Cas. I really appreciate it."
Cas walks towards him, and Dean braces himself. Cas reaches up with two fingers, and as they lightly brush over his forehead, Dean feels the earth move around him, something that no one should ever have to experience.
Cas lets Dean lean on his arm for a few seconds after they land. When Dean regains his bearings enough to look around, he realises that they're in a closet.
He blinks at Cas. "A janitor's closet?"
"It seemed like a good place to land, allowing you time to recover without danger of anyone seeing us appear suddenly in the middle of a hallway."
Half of Dean wants to tell Cas how cliché it is to hide out with someone in a closet, but the other half is nudging him and reminding him that most of the time the people who hide in janitor's closets go there to make out. Suddenly feeling a bit hot, Dean clears his throat.
"Is there anyone outside?"
Cas pauses and tilts his head. "Not at the moment."
"Great," Dean mutters, pushing the door open and closing it after Cas leaves. "Do you know where Jess and Sam are?"
"They are in the hallway above us, but access there is restricted."
As Cas says it, an ear splitting scream echoes down from the above floor. Dean only just recognises the sound as Jess.
"Jesus," he mutters. "Is she okay?"
"Do not blaspheme. Jessica is a healthy female. Her birth will go well."
Cas's reassurance does little to calm his nerves. He walks down the hall until he comes to a waiting room. There are several older couples, and several worried looking men inside it.
"Is this the waiting room for the maternity ward?" He asks one of the men. The guy looks up at him and nods jerkily.
"Yeah. Talk to her," he says, pointing at a woman behind a desk, "If you want to try and get upstairs."
Dean thanks him and walks over to the woman. She looks up at him, unimpressed.
"You have someone that you want to see?" She asks, uninterestedly.
Jess screams again. "Yes. Jessica Winchester. The one currently screaming her head off. I'm not sure I'd be appreciated inside right now, but if you could tell my brother that I'm here, I'd be grateful."
"The tall one with long hair?"
Dean grimaces but nods. The lady smiles slightly, and Dean thanks his brother's habit of making everyone around him like him. "I'll see what I can do, but I don't think interruptions would be welcome right now."
Dean nods. "Yeah, I get that. Thank you."
Cas is still standing there when Dean turns around. He blinks, surprised, but not unhappy.
"I thought you had your heavenly duties to attend to," Dean says as he walks back over to Cas. The angel regards him dispassionately.
"I have none at the current moment."
Dean smiles slightly. "Cool. You can wait here. If you want," he hurriedly adds, when Cas tilts his head slightly.
"I would like that," the angel eventually says.
"Good," Dean replies, letting out a breath of air. "That's good."
If Dean had been worried that he wouldn't get here in time, he was wrong. The hours tick by, and the people around him come and go. He finds himself drowsing, the night with no sleep catching up with him. The fact that he'd hardly slept last night, or the one before either isn't helping.
To distract himself, he digs inside his pocket and gives Cas the phone. He spends a good hour trying to explain how it works, but the angel just looks at him and it quizzically the entire time.
"I think I understand which buttons to press," Cas eventually says. Dean lets out a sigh of relief.
"Good. You'll get better with practise. Don't worry about it." Dean covers his mouth as a large yawn escapes. Cas watches him, his unnatural stillness betraying him and broadcasting that he isn't human.
"You should sleep," Cas tells him, his gravelly voice soft in the waiting room.
"Nah, I'll just go and grab some more coffee."
"Jessica and Sam will be fine for another few hours."
Dean sets his jaw stubbornly. "Cas, I'm fine."
The angel regards him, something moving in his bright blue eyes. Dean raises his eyebrows at the angel, daring him to say anything else.
But even though Cas doesn't comment on the issue, a few minutes later Dean finds himself slouching on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion claims him.
Castiel looks at the man resting against him. Dean's eyes flicker in his sleep, and the dawning sun begins to christen his cheeks, making the skin glow and his freckles stand out in sharp relief against the tanned brown expanse of his face.
He moves his leg slightly so that it presses lightly against Dean's, similar to what the hunter had done at Bobby's house. The feeling of the hunter's lax form against him is more comforting than it should be.
He lightly touches against the piece of Grace in the man's soul, and feels it become aware of him. Dean's soul flickers and welcomes him, and Castiel feels something lift inside him. Souls do not lie.
He wings bristle slightly when he sees the black that had accumulated at the edges of Dean in his absence. He banishes as much as he can, but too much remains for Castiel's liking. He stops a dream before it can begin to form, and leaves the human's mind to its rest.
Flicking his feathers out to resettle them and make them comfortable to sit there for a while, Castiel comes back to his vessel. The emptiness inside makes it hard to settle for a few seconds, the absence of Jimmy's soul unsettling. Castiel has never inhabited a vessel without a soul inside of it, and he feels himself bonding to the flesh around him, without the barrier of the soul between himself and it.
Anna asks for his location again, but he brushes her off with a reassurance, telling her that he is okay. She hovers at the edge of his mind for a second before departing.
He checks on Jessica in the hall above them. She is approaching the end of her labour, he decides. He checks on her health and the baby's health. Jessica is fine, and the young girl's soul sparkles with new life. It leaves him in awe of his Father's creations.
Dean shifts against him, and Castiel brings his attention back to the human. Frowning, he disintegrates the atoms holding the arm of the chair together, and joins the two cushions to make a combined seat. Pulling Dean up against him, he holds him in sleep until he is sure that Dean will not wake of his own accord. He carefully curls his arm around Dean, and then waits as Dean moves and settles himself more firmly against him, putting his head on Castiel's shoulder.
Castiel blinks, wondering why the warmth of the hunter feels so good.
He kept Dean sleeping until he is sure that Jessica could receive visitors. Dean had slept from five to nine, and while that is less sleep than Castiel wants him to have had, it will have to do for now.
He lets Dean wake the next time a sound goes through the corridor. The hunter jerks slightly, and instinctively tries to stand. Castiel keeps him where he is until he realises where he is.
"Cas," Dean hisses to him. "What did you do? It's past nine!"
"You needed rest. Whenever something that would have woken you occurred, I stopped you from hearing it. Sam and Jessica can now receive visitors. Your niece was born at six thirty four this morning."
Dean pulls out of his grip, and Castiel feels a pang of something in his chest. It gnaws at his Grace slightly, and he stops his vessel's breathing to try and confine it.
"Cas? Are you okay? You're staring at nothing, and it's freaking me out a little."
Castiel shakes his head slightly and takes a breath. "I am fine. Are we going to see your brother and his family?"
Dean nods, something passing behind his eyes. Castiel is not good enough at reading human emotion yet to know what it is.
"Okay. Where are they?"
"They moved rooms an hour ago." Castiel stands, and resists the urge to fly to his destination. Using his vessel for travel is taxing and takes far too long, but Dean would not appreciate the trip.
So he waits with the human at the elevator, moving slightly closer to him with each breath. He stops the thumping of his heart for a few seconds in reprimand to it, but it ignores him when it starts again. Castiel wonders if all angels experience such loss of control, or it is only because he is standing so very close to Dean.
Castiel had been spending more time with the hunter than he had with Samandriel or Uriel. He still kept in almost hourly contact with Anna, and Balthazar is his closest friend. But other than those two angels, he had been spending more time with Dean than his own kin.
It had started after he left Anna in Rome. He had come back to America to find that almost a week had passed. He had found Dean by the distinctive pattern of his soul, and the piece of his Grace inside it, and had settled himself down to watch the human at his desk.
Then the urge to appear and talk with the human started. He had shaken himself. Angels do not interact; they watch, and they guard.
But still the urge remained. And just as he had decided he would appear in the office, Dean had stood up and left.
Balthazar had been in the room the entire afternoon, and invited Castiel to leave with him. Castiel could not, in good grace, refuse to leave with him, especially after being gone for a week. Balthazar had seen nothing wrong with Castiel simply watching Dean all afternoon, as that is what angels do. Watch.
The next day he stood next to the human for a few hours. Dean typed away on his computer, but every now and then he would look over in the general direction where Castiel was standing, while frowning slightly. Castiel would lower his brows but Dean would go back to his work shortly after.
Reasoning that Dean still had to do his work, and would be uncomfortable with Castiel simply standing there and watching him, Castiel flew to Heaven and retrieved one of the tomes from the first War. He then appeared silently in the office, sitting in the cubicle next to Dean, opening the book and reading through the Enochian writing there.
Dean got up half an hour later. He blinked, looking at Cas.
"When did you get here?" Dean asked.
"I have been here for several hours," Castiel replied.
Dean looked like he didn't know how to reply, so he went and got his drink, and returned to his desk.
The next day Castiel had been sitting there with another book when Dean came in. The human looked surprised that he was there, but over the course of the day he made several comments and questions aimed at the angel.
The day after Dean spoke with him almost continually, and Castiel read little of his book.
The day after was similar.
Castiel found himself falling into a routine with the hunter. He would arrive, and Dean would greet him happily in the morning. After doing any work Rufus had assigned to him, Dean would tease him – or at least the angel though he was being teased; humans were so strange with their different behaviours. He would make as many pop culture references as he could, and Castiel would try to navigate through them. Rufus would then yell at Dean to stop wasting time, and to get back to work. Dean would smirk at him and go back to his desk for another few hours, before making up some excuse to get out of the office. Krissy even remarked that he was making her job easy, since he was doing half of the fetching around the office for her.
Castiel would accompany him, because they were partners. Dean would take the longest route around the city, not taking the Impala or letting Castiel fly him anywhere. Dean would show him parts of the city, and Castiel would quietly marvel at the quiet capability and health of the soul next to him. He was seeing improvement in Dean's soul, but that was just because he was banishing what darkness he could to stop it from making Dean worse. Without the added hindrance of the continually amassing darkness, Dean's soul could heal its wounds easier. Castiel was also patrolling Dean's sleeping mind when he could, making sure that the hunter was not troubled by dreams.
He had told Dean what he was doing to his soul one day. Dean had looked at him uneasily.
"Look, Cas, I'm grateful. I know that you've been making me sleep peacefully, but I'd appreciate it if you told me earlier that you were doing weird stuff with my soul."
"I would think that it is the equivalent of anti-depressant drugs without the side effects. They help with your PTSD."
Dean gapes at him. "You put me on the angelic equivalent of meds?" He asks, stunned. "And I do not have PTSD," he hisses.
Castiel does not react. "I can stop if you wish. However, if you have me stop, your soul will cloud and will not continue to heal."
Dean had shifted on his feet, looking away. There was a long pause, and Castiel knew enough about humans to recognise that it was far longer than any normal pause in conversation. He also knew enough not to speak until Dean did.
"Don't stop," he gruffly said. "But don't do anything else."
A stab of pain went through Castiel's Grace, but he covered his reaction from Dean, spending a moment with his wings tensed as he waited it out. A rush of feeling followed the pain. He felt relieved and happy and triumphant and proud. He let out a breath.
Dean smiled at him for a second, barely an uplift of one corner of his mouth. "Let's go back to the office."
Castiel nodded, and reached out with his hand to brush against Dean's forehead lightly. Just before he made contact Dean fluttered his eyes shut. Castiel wrapped his Grace around his soul, keeping it safe while he transported the atoms that made up Dean's body back to the office.
Dean knocks lightly on the door of Jessica's room. Sam opens the door, and his eyes widen at the sight of his brother.
"Dean! You're here!"
"I've been here since three o'clock actually. Angel transport, right?"
Sam looks at him, wonder filling his eyes. "You're… Castiel?"
Castiel nods. "Yes. Dean was concerned about you and your wife, so he asked me to transport him here so he could see you."
Sam grins at his brother. "Really? You called in a favour?"
"Whatever," Dean growls. "How's Jess?"
Sam's face softens. "She's good. And so is the baby."
Dean smiles. "Can I come in, or are we just going to stand in the hallway?"
Sam blushes slightly. "Of course," he says, opening the door. "But Jess is sleeping."
Dean walks in, and when Sam keeps the door open, looking at him expectantly, Castiel follows.
Dean walks over to Jess and watches her for a second. Then he goes to the small crib next to the bed.
Sam watches his brother, still smiling softly. Dean gently touches a finger to her face.
"Meet Alicia Rose Winchester," Sam says quietly. Dean nods, touching a finger to the soft blonde curls at the top of her head.
"She beautiful," Dean says.
"I know," Sam replies. "I know."
"She'll get her smarts from her mum, and her good looks from her uncle. I don't know what she'll get from you," Dean says, shaking his head. "Maybe the ability to do the puppy eyes?"
Sam smiles. "If she can do the puppy eyes, then we're all screwed."
Dean nods. "Seconded."
Dean goes and sits on one side of Jessica, and Sam on the other. Castiel stands in the corner of the room, listening to the brother's talk. Dean tells him about what was going on in the office, and Sam tells Dean about his own work, which Castiel learns is a firm of supernatural lawyers.
He is there for about an hour before Anna contacts him.
Castiel, I need you here.
Castiel blinks at the command, but shakes out his wings, preparing to fly.
"Dean, Anna is calling for me. When you desire to return to Phoenix, either call or pray to me."
Dean turns around in his chair. "Okay Cas. See you later."
Castiel nods at them both before following Anna's call back to the source, worry spiking in him when he feels the desperation in her voice. Anna? What is wrong?
Zachariah called me. He wants to talk about how our mission is progressing on earth.
Castiel felt his feathers bristling. He will ask about Dean. You know what he said about him when last we spoke.
I know. Do not worry, I will not make you take advantage of Dean.
Castiel does not tell her that that is what he is worried about. She can push their superiors too far sometimes, and this is the sort of issue she would take a stand on.
Come. He will be impatient.
Castiel follows her to where Zachariah's Grace is blaring out a calling signal. He lands next to the leader of his garrison, and bows his head, politely fading into the background so they can talk.
Anna reports on how Rachel and Hestor had retrieved two ingredients needed for the spell, and that Hael had killed several demons before they could locate the second piece of the key. Unfortunately she had not known how they were going to locate it, so she could not perform the spell herself. Zachariah expresses his displeasure at this, and Castiel tries not to cower.
Anna finished by speaking of the deaths that they had suffered while trying to retrieve the key, and how they needed more angels to fill the spaces in the garrison. Zachariah did not like that at all.
With Raziel's death and Gabriel's desertion, we are low on power. You know this Anael. You know we can't just replace angels. But we need our garrisons at full strength, especially the ones on earth that are the first line of defence against demons. So, I suppose I can arrange something.
I might believe that you valued our garrison if you had not sent half of them to their deaths while trying to retrieve the piece of the key. Anna says it lowly, but Castiel's Grace quivers, and his wings fold against him as he tries to blend into the background.
The key is essential to our plan against the demons.
Anna trembles with anger beside him. Castiel tries to be still.
At the cost of how many angelic lives?
The cost does not matter to me.
The cost matters to me. They were my soldiers. They died under my watch.
They died under Castiel's watch. If you have an issue, you should talk to him about it.
I have no issue with Castiel. My issue is with you.
Castiel looks fearfully at his leader. She had crossed a line, and he does not know what Zachariah would do about it.
The other angel pauses. Then, very slowly, he wraps his Grace around Anna, so she cannot escape. I see. Then perhaps Castiel could tell you the best parts of re-education.
Anna trembles, but does not relent. What you did was wrong.
Castiel tenses. Why is she not letting it rest? Zachariah is fine with any angel, as long as they complete their tasks efficiently, and Anna is one of the best leaders. Making a point is not worth re-education.
Very well. Castiel, you are to take Anael's place while she is… otherwise occupied.
Castiel looks at Anna desperately, but she shakes her head slightly, pressing her wings against his.
Yes Zachariah, Castiel says, after a pause.
Good. Anael, come with me.
Anna follows the other angel reluctantly, and Castiel watches them both, trying to fight down his misery. He cannot let the Host feel that.
Castiel reluctantly wings his way back to earth to tell the rest of the angels he is now leader of that Anna had been taken to re-education. Uriel and Samandriel murmur the most, and Rachel's Grace is humming contentedly at the promotion. She is now the official second in command.
Castiel organises them, and sends out Sariel to guard the human child they have chosen for the spell, and Vaveal to guard their second chosen child, who is there as a backup.
The rest of the garrison know their duties, and soon Castiel is the only one left where they had been meeting. He flies towards the comforting feeling of Dean's soul, and finds him curled up under the blankets in Sam's house. They must not allow overnight visitors at the hospital.
The urge to curl up beside Dean comes to him, but he does not act on it. Instead, he sends Dean into a deeper sleep to stop any nightmares, and checks on Sam. He is sleeping deeply as well. He checks on Jessica and Alicia. Frowning, he corrects a genetic problem that would have affected the child in the later years of her life. Satisfied, he flits through the hospital, doing nothing for the older or weaker, but making sure all of the children are at rest. He cures the cough one child has that had been keeping his mother up for the last two nights, and the ear infection of another. With nothing else to do, he goes back to Dean.
The hunter has not moved in the ten minutes Castiel has been gone. The angel settles on the floor beside the bed, waiting for the hunter to wake in the morning.
Dean wakes up and lies on his side for a second, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as he yawns. Turning over in the bed, he's rubbing his face when he sees Cas.
He freezes, with his mouth slightly open and probably looking ridiculous while pushing half his face around and staring at Cas. The angel looks back at him calmly, apparently not understanding how weird it is to just sit next to someone while they sleep.
"Cas?" Dean slurs, trying to untangle himself from the sheets and stand up hurriedly, but ends up falling on top of Cas instead. He tries to hide his blush, standing up. The angel stands as well, not batting an eye at Dean's half-dressed state. Dean is more affected by the situation than the angel appears to be. "How long have you been there?"
"Since about three o'clock this morning." Dean rubs his eyes and focuses on the angel, noticing the troubled look the angel is wearing. He isn't looking at Dean, just at the bed, and there are crease lines etched into his forehead. Suddenly worried, Dean reaches out to grab Cas's arm.
"Are you okay?" He asks, voice full of concern. Cas looks up at him before sighing quietly. "What happened with Anna?"
He wouldn't normally ask about the angel's affairs, but now that he was looking, Cas looks terrible. If he had to make a comparison, he'd say the angel looks like he didn't get any sleep.
"Many things happened last night," the angel says softly. Dean looks over at the time. It's just before eight. Sam is probably up.
Dean draws Cas back to the bed, sitting down and pulling Cas down with him. The angel bows his head and looks at the ground. Dean moves slightly closer, hating himself for wanting to touch the angel, even as something was clearly wrong. Over the last month there had been talking, but not much touching. The office is not the place for that, and Dean hadn't been able to fulfil his need to lay his hands on the dark haired man sitting beside him.
"Hey. Tell me what's going on."
Cas looks up at him, his normally vibrant blue eyes dull. "Anna called me because Zachariah wanted a report about our activities on earth, and as second in command of our garrison, I needed to be there as well." Dean nods. That makes sense.
"Anna reported, but… it was not what Zachariah wanted to hear. Our garrison is running low on numbers, lately." Cas adds, softer. "Demons have become stronger. Anna wanted reinforcements, and accused Zachariah of not caring about the angels that did most of the work, and that he let them die without caring."
Dean raises his eyebrows at that. "I can't imagine him taking that well."
"He did not."
Dean waits for a second, but Cas doesn't elaborate. "What happened next?"
Cas looks away. "Zachariah gave Anna several chances to apologize and take back what she said. No angel can fault him for what he did."
Dean feels his stomach begin to churn. "Cas? What happened?"
Cas swallows. "He took her away. For re-education." He says the last sentence in a whisper, as if it were one of the worst things that could happen, and that you could bring it down on you by simply talking about it.
Dean bites his lip. He doesn't want to ask, but he has to understand. "What's re-education?"
Cas doesn't answer for a few minutes. Then, when he speaks, Dean can tell that he is not meant to be telling him anything about this.
"It is where disobedient angels go. They are trained to work as part of the Host once more there, to care for nothing and obey their superiors. But Anna was a leader; she needs some amount of ability to think for herself so she can make decisions in the battle field. But she pushed it too far." Cas shakes his head slowly. "I wonder if I will ever see her again, or if they will simply decide to terminate her, and save the trouble she creates."
Dean stares at Cas uneasily. Is that what goes on upstairs? Carefully, he puts an arm around the angel, and Cas leans into his touch slightly.
"What the big deal about disobeying?" Dean asks quietly.
Cas trembles slightly, and Dean feels a stab of foreboding. "Angels are made to obey, Dean. What do you think is the consequence of an angel going against what they are?"
Dean looks at the dark haired man uneasily, but doesn't reply. Cas still isn't looking at him.
"I am the leader of the garrison now. I will not have the time to be around so often. And I must inform Joanna about her partner."
Dean hadn't realised what this meant for Jo. "Anna's going to be okay, right? I mean, she's a good leader, isn't she?"
Cas nods slightly. "One of the best. That is why I hold onto the hope that they will spare her."
Dean tightens his grip around the angel. "It's going to be okay."
"You have no statistical evidence to support that," Cas says. "There is no reason to be saying it."
"But it made you feel better, didn't it?" Dean asks softly. Cas hesitates, and Dean has his answer in that. "It's going to fine. Everything's going to turn out okay."
Cas finally looks at him, turning large, blue eyes on him. They're filled with fear, and something else, and Dean suddenly realises that this is more than him simply worried about Anna.
"You cannot know that," Cas says, and then stands, shrugging off Dean's arm even though the hunter tries to keep it around him. "You do not know what is coming," he says, and then there's the rustle of feathers, and Dean is alone in the room.
"Fuck," he curses, looking at the place where Cas was standing only a few seconds before. "Damnit Cas," he says, quieter. "You need to tell me what's wrong, so I can help you fix it."
But the room stays empty, and Cas doesn't reappear.
Dean doesn't see Cas for another few weeks. He flies home after the angel doesn't answer either his phone or a prayer, and Dean is not calling either more than once. Jess is healthy, happy and thriving. So is Alicia.
He spends some time on a ghoul case, and helps Garth and Ash with a changeling problem. Nothing too strenuous.
He thinks about Cas, even though he doesn't see him. It takes him a week to get over his worry, and examine the cause of it. He isn't very surprised when he realises that even though he's been trying to ignore his feelings for Cas, they've grown.
So he decides that he'll stop ignoring them, and do something about it. What that something is, he isn't sure of, but he's sure when the moment comes to him, he'll realise it.
He doesn't see the other angels either. Jo isn't allowed much call time, and Dean has to pull a few favours to get her on the line. She tells him that Cas had come and told her that Anna wouldn't be around for a few months, and not to worry about it. Apparently the angel had disappeared without saying goodbye.
Dean hears his phone buzzing, and groans, not wanting to wake up. He fumbles around on the table beside the bed for a few seconds before picking it up. He squints at the screen. Rufus' caller ID was on it.
"What's up?" Dean asks blearily. It's half past four in the morning. Why is Rufus calling at half past four in the morning?
"There's been a crash in a town you're near. Kerrville."
"Rufus, I'm still in San Antonio," Dean grumbles. But he quickly begins packing his things, getting ready to leave. He checks out of the hotel while still on the phone.
"The crash was called in, and recommended to us."
"What's weird about it?" Dean asks, getting into the Impala.
"It's a nineteen car pileup. That's not something that usually happens in a town of its size."
"You can say that again," Dean sighs. "I'll be there in half an hour or so."
"You're gonna have to break some speed limits on this one boy. There's only so much we can do to stop anything or anyone disturbing the scene."
"And possibly getting eaten by whatever caused it. Yeah. But at this time of night, there's probably not that many people out."
"Still. Hurry."
Rufus hangs up. Dean throws the phone onto the seat beside him and speeds up.
The first time Dean sees a dead angel, he isn't expecting it.
It's a blonde girl in her late teens, wearing nothing but a white shift. There's blood leaking from the wound in her throat, which looks like it goes all the way through her neck. The nineteen cars had turned into twenty three when several of them caught on fire. Ambulances and fire trucks are there, and Dean trusts them to take care of the civilians. He had flashed his badge a few times, and that is enough to get him onto the main scene.
Even in his books this is a little weird. But then he sees the person in the tan trench coat leaning over the body. By the way that no one else is reacting, he has to assume that he's the only one who can see Cas. He slowly approaches the kneeling figure, drinking in the sight of the angel. When his flashlight outlines the silhouette of wings on the ground he hears himself take in a shallow breath.
"Cas? Do you want me to clear all these people?" Dean asks, his voice low. Even he might get kicked off the scene for talking to thin air.
"No Dean. It is fine." Cas' voice is lower and more gravely than normal, but it's the thread of raw grief underneath it that makes him start to worry.
"Okay," he says, knowing that it's not okay, "Do you need to do anything with her body? Do you want to do anything to the scene?" Dean has no idea if there is any holy protocol to follow here, so he's just playing it easy, making sure that he doesn't cross any lines.
"No Dean. Sariel's vessel holds nothing of her form now," Cas says sadly.
Dean is still staring at the burned scorch marks of the dead angel's wings. They're still there, and Dean wonders if they will ever fade. "Do you all go out like that?" He asks softly.
Cas hesitates before answering. "If we are killed by an angel blade, then yes, in our dying moment our exploding Grace burns through our wings and imprints their image onto the surface on which they rest."
Feeling shitty for asking angel questions while Cas is grieving, Dean grabs Cas' arm, and Cas lets himself be pulled up. "Hey. Look at me." Dean might as well have been talking to empty air for all the good it does.
Cas turns and Dean can do nothing to stop him, because he had put his strength behind that movement. He once more kneels beside the fallen angel. "Goodbye sister," Cas mumbles, and Dean has half a second to feel bad for intruding on the moment before Cas touches the body, and it disappears. Dean has no idea how he's going to explain that one to the police, but he's going to have to try.
"Wait… You said, an angel blade?"
"No demon did this," Cas says, and Dean can hear the quiet anger in his voice. "An angel has been supplying demons with angel blades for a while, and I cannot smell any sulphur nearby," Cas's voice is loaded, and he is staring at the place where the female angel had been. "Wait here."
Cas disappears. Dean shines his light over where the angel had been. The wings are still there.
Cas appears a few minutes later. "The child Sariel was guarding is gone. Dead, or taken, it matters not. Vaveal was guarding the second child. He is dead as well, and his child gone." Castiel shakes his head and continues in a quieter voice. "There are only fourteen of us left, now. I fear that before this is over, there will be far less."
"Before what is over?" Dean asks, looking at the angel.
Cas blinks at him, seeming to realise that Dean was there. "Nothing," he murmurs. "I grieve." He flicks his wrist, and suddenly there's a silver blade in it. "This was Sariel's. She was a fine fighter, and her style matches yours quite well. The sword will fight for you." He holds it out to Dean, and he takes it carefully. The blade is silver, with three sides and a sharp tip.
"An… angel blade?" He asks gingerly.
"Do not tell anyone else I gave it to you. It can kill angels. It targets their Grace, not their physical form."
Dean feels a rush of goosebumps go over his arms. He had a thing in his hands that could kill an angel. An angel.
"Are you sure you should give this to me?" Dean asks gingerly, sliding it up his sleeve.
"You made several things clear to me the last time we spoke. I am trying to prevent a few of them before they even occur," Cas sighs. Then he looks at Dean searchingly. "You know how to wield a blade, yes?"
"It was never my favourite weapon, but yeah. I can fight with one if I need to."
Cas frowns. "We will have to rectify that. Be in your apartment before eleven tonight."
Dean widens his eyes at the angel. "I'm probably not even going to be home before midnight! I still have to fix the situation here, and then drive back!"
Cas tilts his head. Suddenly all the cars stop their alarms, and the cars that are on fire go out easily under the hoses of the firefighters. Several of the cars creak as they separate from each other and the metal bends back into shape. The oil and petrol disappear from the ground, and several confused looking people climb back into their cars and drive away. The police officers dismiss everyone, and within a minute, there's hardly anyone left on the scene.
"Good enough?" Cas asks, sounding annoyed. Dean shuts his mouth and nods slowly.
"Ah, yeah, that'll do."
"Good." And then Cas's fingers are against his forehead, his vision goes black, and he feels the sickening weightlessness that accompanies Cas flying him somewhere.
"Umph." Dean hits the ground with his knees bent, as he had learned to do. Cas regards him impassively, watching him try to regain control over his stomach, which seems intent on empting itself onto his shoes. Looking around, Dean realises that they're in the office. "Ah, thanks for bringing me here."
"The Impala is in its resting place beneath this building."
"Whoa, Cas, you didn't need to. I could have driven here."
Cas shrugs. "Just be at your apartment before eleven."
The angel disappears, and Dean shakes his head. He knocks on Rufus's office, and the older man looks shocked when Dean walks in. "Dean? How… I'm never going to get used to you and Castiel flapping your way around."
Dean smiles slightly. Rufus lets him go home, and he sleeps until the afternoon. Then he heads back into the office, remembering Cas's words about being in his apartment. Rufus hands him a stack of paperwork that has to be cleared up about the changelings, and Dean groans. There is enough for three people here, and Ash and Garth aren't here yet.
Still, he sets in determinedly, getting his and half of Ash's done before ten thirty.
He hands the completed and uncompleted forms back to Rufus, who looks at him in confusion.
"What's going on?"
"Those are done, those are not. I'm going home, see you tomorrow."
Rufus glares at him. "You aren't going home until these are done."
Dean flashes him a smile as he's walking out. "Heavenly orders, sorry! Cas wanted me back before eleven, and I'm going to cut it close."
He has enough time to see Rufus's surprised face before the door swings shut.
Dean says goodnight to Krissy, who looks confused as he walks out. There's more people than he normally sees while going home, and the drive there is longer than usual as well.
Dean unlocks his door, and walks into his apartment, flicking the lights on. It's just after eleven, and he can't see Cas anywhere.
He puts his bag down, and stretches. He loosens his tie and shrugs off his jacket, before taking off his buttoned up shirt and belt.
Changing into jeans and a tee shirt, Dean turns and blinks. Cas is watching him silently, and Dean isn't sure how long the angel has been there.
Flustered, but trying not to show it, Dean raises an eyebrow. "Most people knock."
"I flew past the door. How was I supposed to knock on it?"
"The door there would have been fine," Dean grumbles. Cas follows him out of his bedroom and into the lounge. "Anyway, why did you want me here?"
"You have a studio for practising your fighting techniques, correct?"
Dean frowns. "Yeah, it was meant to be the second bedroom, but I live here alone." He nods towards a closed door.
"Good." The angel says, going towards it and opening the door. The lights inside it flick on without Cas touching anything.
Dean stands in the doorway as Cas starts moving stuff around, creating a larger space in the middle of the room. Dean stares bemusedly as he picks up the treadmill with one hand and moves it into the corner. Before long, there's an open space in the middle of the room.
"You are going to have to ward your apartment against angels."
"But then you can't get in," Dean protests.
"I can change the symbols so they do not include me."
Cas puts a piece of paper he pulled out of nowhere on the table, and hesitates for a second before drawing a symbol onto the page. "Put that up in your blood on the northernmost, southernmost and easternmost walls. They will protect this place."
Dean raises an eyebrow. "Okay, angelic protection down. Now what?"
Cas turns to him. "Where is the blade I gave you?"
Dean goes over to his armoury and opens the doors. He picks up the sword, and turns around to show it to Cas.
Cas frowns. "First lesson, keep it with you. Always."
Dean raises his eyebrows. "Okay then." He sticks it through a belt loop. "I'll need to grab a sheath for it, but yeah, I'll carry it everywhere."
Cas nods, and suddenly the weight at his hip is slightly heavier. He looks down at the plain leather sheath encasing the blade. "You know, you can't keep spoiling me like this Cas. Flying me around, giving me presents… I'd get used to it."
Cas gives him an exasperated look. "You need that. Angels are unlike any opponent you have faced before Dean. If you lose Sariel's sword, there are very few other things that can kill or injure us, and most of them are angels more powerful than the angel that is your opponent. We can fly," he says, and appears behind Dean's back, with his own sword digging lightly into his shirt. "And we can smite."
Dean remembers how Cas got rid of the shape shifter, and shifts his weight uneasily.
"Your only advantage will be that they will underestimate you. Most angels will not fly during a fight, and that is because their wings are exposed. Because you are human, you could not take advantage of that weakness, but they have been trained over thousands of years how to fight, and they will not deviate from their normal routine. But even so," Cas continues, before he hauls Dean up and over his shoulder with apparently no effort, and no consideration to Dean's protests. "We are stronger than you, physically." He sets Dean down. "Punch me."
"What?" Dean says, stunned from being pushed around by the angel. "I'm not punching you."
"Do it." Cas tilts his head slightly. "Consider it a part of your practise."
Dean frowns, and shifts slightly, but pulls back his hand and punches Cas square in the jaw, thinking he'd get some sort of recoil.
There isn't any. It's like punching a brick wall, and he swears, cradling his hand close to his chest. "Cas, what the fuck was that for?" He groans, feeling his hand throb.
"You won't be tempted to punch an angel now. Trust me, it will do no good."
Dean looks at him, outraged. Cas looks back calmly. Dean lets out an annoyed huff. "Well thanks for the warning," he says sarcastically.
Cas spends some time demonstrating several manoeuvres with the angel blade, giving Dean some time to recover. But when he suggests sparring with the real blade, Dean refuses.
"It could kill you Cas. I'm not doing it."
"The whole point of this is that I am trying to prepare you if you fight an angel. I am an angel, and you will not be able to touch me yet."
"I'm not doing it," Dean flatly refuses. They argue for another ten minutes before Cas creates a sword with the same weight as the real thing, but made of something that wouldn't kill angels. He assures Dean by sticking it through his hand, which does not reassure him at all.
"Jesus, I know you're indestructible, but don't flaunt it."
Cas frowns at him. "Angels are not indestructible Dean."
Dean sighs. "Yeah, I know." He doesn't voice his worries about Cas not being indestructible.
"Are you ready?" Cas asks.
Dean nods. "Yeah."
The angel vanishes. Dean looks around, carefully trying to figure out where he would come from. There's a sound behind him, and Cas appears. Dean raises his fake-sword to block, staggering under the pressure Cas puts behind it.
"You cannot match my strength Dean," Cas counsels, as they circled each other. "You have to try a different approach. Brute force will win over no angel."
Luckily, Dean had trained for the majority of his life against creatures that are stronger than he is.
Cas leaps at him again, and Dean blocks again, this time trying to quickly strike out at the angel. Cas jumps back slightly, dodging him. Taking advantage of the angel's backwards momentum, Dean dives at him, trying to land a hit. Cas moves swiftly to the side and hits his back, making him overbalance and fall to the ground. Dean rolls, standing up swiftly, barely able to avoid Cas' next attack.
Cas is fast, unnaturally so. Dean can hardly keep up with the angel's movements, and he has a sneaking suspicion that Cas isn't going full out. Cas knocks him over again, and he rolls to find his back to the wall.
Cas' blade is suddenly at his throat. Dean doesn't move, looking the angel in the eyes.
Cas' blue eyes are searching his, with his brows lowered. The angel isn't touching him, leaving Dean space enough to move if he wants to cut his own throat.
"Not terrible for your first fight with the sword," Cas says, stepping back. "But another angel won't stop."
"Yeah, I got that," Dean says, rubbing his neck where the cool metal of the blade had been touching him. "So what, you're going to teach me?"
"If you're willing to learn," Cas replies. Dean looks at him for a moment before nodding.
Cas lunges at him again, and Dean jumps out of the way. He gets Cas back into the centre of the room, where he has more room to manoeuvre, and circles the angel slowly, looking for a weakness. Cas is watching him, eyes taking in everything.
They clash again, Dean spinning around Cas's sword, and getting nicked for his troubles. He tries to sneak in a hit, but Cas deflects it by smacking his arm away with his spare hand. Dean tries for another, but it rips through the edge of Cas's trench coat instead of hitting the angel.
The fight for another few minutes before Cas 'kills' him again. The angel gives him a minute to breathe before he starts the fight again.
By the time Dean calls time, he's covered in sweat. Cas looks as impeccable as always.
"Fuck you're good," Dean says as he wipes sweat away. "It can't just be because you've got superior strength."
Cas smiles slightly. "You are right. I am one of the best fighters with our blades in the Host."
Dean sits, leaning against the wall. "I knew it." He lets out a sigh before peering up at the angel. "What's the time?"
"After midnight," Cas responds quietly. He walks over and seems to deliberate for a second before sitting. Dean smirks at the way Cas gets caught up in his trench coat. The angel frowns, before blinking. The trench coat appears, neatly folded, beside him.
"Aw, come on Cas. If you're gonna lose the coat, you can't wear this," Dean says, plucking at the black jacket. "Or the tie," Dean tells him.
Cas frowns, and they appear on top of the coat.
"That's better," Dean says, looking Cas over. The angel is a lot thinner than he had thought he was, divested of his coats and tie. Cas has his head tilted, watching him. Dean flushes slightly and looks away.
"Anyway," he continues. "I don't usually get back here until about two or three. So… want to tell me why you're suddenly afraid that I'm going to be fighting against angels?" Dean had held his tongue up until now, but he had questions that Cas was going to answer. "Why was, uh, Sariel and Vaveal killed, why were they guarding kids, and why are you teaching me to fight?"
Cas sighs quietly, looking away from Dean. Dean edges closer, pressing lightly against Cas, and trying to ignore the part of him that is telling him that doing this with the angel is bad news. That part hadn't stopped the much more pleasant than usual dream he had had of Cas sucking him off this morning. Stop it. Angels can read minds. You don't want him hearing that. "Seriously Cas. You can't just expect me to not ask you questions."
A smile tweaks the corners of Cas's mouth. "Yes, it would be unlike you," he acknowledges. Twisting his hands into a knot, he looks at them while he speaks. "And it is not a sudden thing, my fear that you will have to fight one of my kin. But what happened with Sariel and Vaveal made me realise how desperate the situation is. That is why I am going to teach you how to handle an angel blade. You need to know how to use it. There is a traitor, or traitors, among my kin, who are working with the demons against us."
"Against us to do what?" Dean asks, after Cas doesn't say anything for a minute.
Cas bites his lip. Dean tries not to stare. "Several years ago, there was an incursion in Heaven. My garrison was not there when it happened, but several others were. Most angels in them were killed, but some escaped. One of them, Hannah, told the archangel Raziel what was happening, and how the demons had somehow penetrated Heaven's defences. He then alerted Gabriel, and both of them flew to deal with the demons. Both of them thought they would be enough to repel the incursion – after all, both of them were archangels, Raziel the third most powerful angel in existence, and Gabriel the fourth." Cas pauses, looking up at the ceiling.
"They were wrong. Raziel was killed, and Gabriel was injured. He fled to earth, and has not been seen since. We have tried to locate him, through spells and through a physical search, but to no avail. Only Michael and Raphael are in Heaven now, and the garrisons that were most used to travelling to earth had been killed. We are low on firepower, and Raziel's Sword was lost, falling to earth where demons could find and use it."
Cas lets out a sigh, and looks at him, his blue eyes sad. "The demons are ahead of us in this war for the first time. They are winning, killing angels with angel blades that they received from the traitors that are betraying us. I do not know who they are, but I am fairly certain there are some inside my garrison."
"Your garrison? Doesn't Anna run your joint?"
Cas swallows. "I told you. Anna has been taken away for re-education. I lead the garrison now."
Dean hadn't known this re-education thing would go on for so long. The idea of it made his stomach feel like he had swallowed a rock.
"Do you have any suspicions about who the traitors are?" He asks, trying to change the subject.
"I have a few thoughts," Cas says quietly. "But I cannot prove them yet. Several are above suspicion. I trust Anna with my life, but she is gone. Balthazar and Rachel would not betray me." Cas leans in towards him slightly, and Dean takes the opportunity to put an arm around his waist and draw him closer. He tries not to feel like he's taking advantage of the angel, but the feeling creeps in anyway.
They sit like that for several minutes, Cas lightly tracing symbols over his skin with a finger. His fingers go to the cut he dealt Dean, and he wipes it away, his thumb removing the cut and the blood, restoring Dean's skin to its former state. Dean feels the half familiar chill go through him that accompanies Cas healing him, and he shivers slightly. Cas looks up at him before settling his head on Dean's shoulder.
Dean lets out a breath. "Do angels feel?" He asks quietly. Cas's head whips around so quickly Dean thinks he'll give himself whiplash. "Like this," he says, dragging a finger over the back of Cas's hand.
Cas relaxes marginally. "It depends on the angel," he says. "Some can cope with the feelings and impressions that human senses give us, but others cannot. Usually, the more practise you have, the better you are. It is like the taking of our vessels. Some angels are better suited to it than others." Cas's mouth twists slightly. "It also depends on how closely the angel holds themselves apart from their vessel, and if they try to feel or not. Those that begin to indulge in human senses often become lost in them. It is like a drug, something that they will not give up. Many refuse to return to Heaven. Most Fall."
"Fall?"
Cas tenses. "If they were in Heaven when they Fall, then they settle in a womb, ready to be born. The ones who Fall in vessels simply take on the guise of their vessel, and live out the rest of their days inside them."
Dean swallows, tightening his grip slightly. "I don't really know what's going on with this sword, or Gabriel, or your fight against demons. But Cas," he says, waiting until the angel looks up at him. "I'm on your side. The whole way."
Cas's eyes widen slightly. Then he smiles, and Dean thinks that it's the largest smile that he has ever seen the angel produce. It makes something warm light up in his belly, heating his body and soul.
He smiles back.
Four angels walk towards the door of the FBI building, heading outside. The public mill in the lobby of the large headquarters, and there's a soft hum of voices. A large audience.
One angel is wearing a tan trench coat, and is being herded by the others, especially a bald man who seems to be in charge. The trench coated angel looks nervous and afraid, and keeps casting looks over his shoulder, like he's waiting for someone.
Dean appears in the door that leads to the stairs. He throws himself at the angels, and there's a fight, which Dean wins, the life of the angels burning out, leaving black wings on the floor. There's a silver sword in his hand.
He steps forward, threatening the bald angel, who he hasn't harmed. The bald angel disappears, and Dean kisses the angel in the trench coat fiercely before exchanging several words with him. They disappear.
Pamela shoots upright in her bed, panting heavily. The dream is stuck in her head, and she moans at the headache that accompanies such prophecies.
Missouri appears in her bedroom door, but the older psychic doesn't say anything, simply leaving a glass of water on her bedside table before walking out. She knows there's nothing she can do, and that saying anything would simply make Pamela's head hurt worse than it already does.
Pamela thinks about the dream. She already knows that she can't tell Dean. She knew those angels were bad news.
"Dammit Dean," she says into the empty room. "What have you gotten yourself into?"