AUTHOR'S NOTES: I wanted to make this a general, happy, lighthearted chapter. I really, really did. But the angst came in and took over. But, there's plenty of humor at the front. There's also DrunkCas, some hurt/comfort, a one-night stand, and a bar fight, so a little something for everyone.

FYI: Bottom's Up is a real bar near my house that serves awesome burgers and the song is 'The Earring Song' by Gretchen Wilson.

Chapter 24

You Can't Laugh Until You've Cried

Bottom's Up was a college bar, but even for a weeknight, it wasn't too busy when Sam, Dean, Fiona, and Ziva sat down at a table in the corner.

After ordering a round of beers and two platters of the bar's famous wings, Dean looked at the ladies who seemed to be looking around anxiously. "Relax," Dean said, trying to cover his own nervousness. "Cas said he'd keep an eye out for any other hunters looking to take a shot at us."

Fiona didn't seem to be paying attention, though. Instead, her eye was drawn to the two young girls across the bar who had eyes only for Sam and Dean. Hearing her name, Fi turned back to Sam who was frowning slightly.

"You okay?" Sam asked, giving Fiona a worried look.

"Yeah, I'm just tired," Fiona lied, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Well, the way you and Sammy have been going at each other like rabbits, I'm not surprised," Dean said laughing as he chased a bite of chicken wing with a swig of beer.

"Dean, how would you like it if I swore to never have sex with you again?" Ziva asked, casually, a devilish twinkle in her eye.

Dean choked on his beer and looked at Ziva, horror in his eyes. Looking at Fiona, he said, "Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Fiona replied, giving Ziva a high-five. But as she lowered her hand, Fi caught sight of the two female co-eds talking with one of the bartenders and pointing towards the Winchesters.

When the bartender brought over two more beers and placed them in front of Sam and Dean, Sam turned to see the young women smiling at him and giving him flirtatious smiles and waves. After looking as well, Dean grinned at his brother. "Chicks buying us drinks. There's a twist for you, Sammy."

But Ziva and Fiona were not as amused. Moving as one, both ladies got up and headed straight for the two co-eds.

"I'm sorry," Ziva said, keeping her tone casual, even though her eyes were anything but. "But my friend and I would appreciate it if you did not flirt with our boyfriends."

The girls giggled and looked at the hunter and federal agent with a mix of amusement and pity. "You know," one of the girls said, smirking. "Maybe if you guys didn't look like a couple of old ladies, maybe you wouldn't feel so threatened."

"Yeah, totally," the other girl, a blonde, said, elbowing her friend. "I mean, my mom totally looks younger than both of you." Looking at Fi and Ziva's outfits, she added, "And where'd you buy your clothes? Bass Pro Shop?"

"Although the boots look like something on a discount rack at Sears," the first girl sneered.

"Better for kicking your scrawny ass," Fiona countered.

"So, is the boyfriend thing a cover?" The redhead asked, looking from Ziva and Fi to Sam and Dean. "I mean, you guys totally look like lesbians or something."

"Whoops," Ziva said, mockingly as she flicked a hand out, knocking over the redhead's drink, making it spill onto her dress and shoes.

"Do you know how much this outfit cost?" Red screeched as she jumped up, trying to wipe the liquid off.

"Not as much as that bad boob job, I hope," Fi said, looking amused. Eying the girl's breasts, she smirked as she said, "They're lopsided."

"They are NOT!" Red said, defensively.

"Yeah, well, they're still better than yours," Blondie snapped. "What'd you do, stick a couple balloons in there?"

Fiona laughed and undid the flannel shirt she was wearing, exposing her tank top. "Honey, these babies are 100% all natural."

"Unlike your nose," Ziva observed, noticing the barely visible scar on Blondie's face.

x

Across the room, Dean and Sam watched with trepidation as Fiona and Ziva went over to confront the two college girls. When the younger girls started raising their voices and the Fiona took off her flannel shirt, Dean had two conflicting thoughts running through his head. The first was 'Uh-oh, this could be trouble.' and the second was 'Cool! Catfight!'

As hunter and fed faced off against the two college girls, the radio started playing a country song. And as the music kicked in, the fight Dean had expected looked like it was about to begin.

'Well, I finally found a sitter

Who'd stay late on Friday night

So I could do some dancing

Underneath them neon lights

Get out of the kitchen

Do a little catchin' up with my old man'

.

'And I couldn't help but notice, girl

That you keep slinking by

Stealing his attention with a twinkle in your eye

You're causin' an involuntary clenching

Of the fingers on my hand

'So honey, move along and find

A place to park yourself while you still can

.

'Don't make me take my earrings out

'Cause I'll show you what a catfight's all about

I'll throw you down and mop the floor

A man like mine's worth fighting for

Don't make me take my earrings out'

For the Winchesters, it was different than watching Ziva and Fiona fighting demons. While Ziva was restrained, she still didn't hold back and when the other bar patrons started getting into the fight, Ziva was swift in taking down the biggest brawlers first and moving along to the others.

'And I'll bet I'll spent an hour

At the bathroom vanity

Trying to turn a mom

Into a ballroom beauty queen

.

'I don't want to mess it up

But trust me, honey, I ain't afraid to break a nail

Yeah, and I'd be glad to spend a night in jail

Oh, Hell!

.

'So don't make me take my earrings out

'Cause I'll show you what a catfight's all about

If you come waltzin' by once more

I'll drag your butt right out the door

So don't make me take my earrings out'

Fiona, on the other hand, was just lining them up and knocking them down until she caught a chair across the back.

Sam and Dean both jumped up and got in the middle of the brawl, extracting their respective girlfriends and getting them out to the Impala, heading down the street just as the police came from the opposite direction.

'If you come waltzin' by once more

I'll throw you down and mop the floor

Drag your butt right out the door

A man like mine's worth fightin' for

So don't make me take my earrings out!'

The night ended with a visit to the emergency room which Fiona insisted was unnecessary, but given that she had recovered from being paralyzed only 2 weeks ago neither Sam nor Dean wanted to take any chances.

So while Ziva got some quick stitches, Fiona got a full work-up, including a 32-hour hospital stay.

When the x-rays came back, Fiona was already in a hospital room, lying down with her right hand splinted.

The doctor—Grant Walter—looked at the small group as a whole for a moment before focusing on Fiona. "The good news, Ms. Brendon, is there's no damage to your spinal cord. The bad news is that your back is going to be badly bruised for a while. It's going to make moving around pretty painful."

"Doc, if the next sentance out of your mouth involve the word 'wheelchair' I'm gonna start swinging," Fiona promised.

But Dr. Walter just smiled and nodded in understanding. "Okay, I won't say it," he replied. "But if you're going to be doing any serious moving around, I'd recommend it. I will tell you that for at least a couple days, bed and painkillers are going to be your two best friends."

"You're talking the good drugs, right?" Dean said, giving Fiona a look.

"Dean, no," Fiona butted in, shaking her head. "That's a bad idea and you know it."

Sam knew what Fiona was thinking and he shook his head as well. When Fiona was on the really, really good painkillers, she either slept for hours on end or she got extremely loopy and horny. And if Fi was supposed to be on bed rest, drugs weren't going to help one iota.

While Sam stayed with Fiona in the hospital, Dean and Ziva headed to the local shopping center for what Dean had termed 'Fiona Bed Rest Supplies' which apparently greatly differed from 'Winchester Bed Rest Supplies'. For the boys, only three things were needed: beer, whatever prescriptions they'd been given by the doctors, and—something Dean hated getting, but helped, nonetheless—various fruit juices. Sam liked apple and the fruit/veggie juice blends. For Dean it was always either orange or red grapefruit.

Of course, Fiona couldn't do the citrus juices. Every time she did, she'd break out in hives. It wasn't a problem if the juices were mixed into something—like the orange glazed chicken she'd had in her Chinese take-out last week—but straight up, it wasn't pretty.

So for Fi it was apple juice—and it had to be Nantucket Nectar brand for some weird-ass reason—bourbon, over-the-counter painkillers, chips, beer, and candy bars.

"You've done this before, then?" Ziva asked as Dean grabbed a couple packs of Double-Stuff Oreos before heading for the check-out.

"Last year," Dean replied, as the cashier rang up his purchases. "When Fi's active, she doesn't eat a whole lot. But when she's down, she gets the munchies."

On the way back to the motel, Ziva could tell that Dean's mind was elsewhere. And it didn't take a genius to figure out where.

Dean was obviously thinking about the last time when Fiona had been confined to bed—right after stabbing herself and ending up paralyzed. No doubt he was also thinking about what could have happened if Fi had been hit harder. She could have ended up in the wheelchair again.

Once in the motel room, Ziva put the juice bottles and beer in the fridge and left the chips and cookies on the counter. It was a nicer room than she'd been in before, but she still couldn't imagine living out of motels forever. Finally having stability in her life, Ziva couldn't imagine uprooting herself again, even if it did mean being with Dean all the time.

Fiona couldn't sleep.

Her back ached and her hand throbbed. Thankfully the hand injury was a minor sprain caused by an improperly thrown punch on her part.

Sam had gone to get a cup of coffee and Fiona was left to her thoughts.

Specifically the first few days after waking up in Portsmouth Naval Hospital after the stabbing incident with Lilith. The doctors telling her the blade of the knife had hit her spinal cord… that she was paralyzed. At first, she'd wondered how the hell she could live her life, especially when the doctors told her what she'd have to do to get by.

But at least this time, Fiona knew that—if she so chose—she could just get up and walk out of the hospital.

Just… not right now, she realized as she tried to shift position causing the pain in her back to flare up.

"Take the drugs, honey," an older nurse said, sternly as she came into the room. "Trust me, you'll feel a lot better."

Fiona thought about resisting but finally she sighed. "Okay. Load me up." But when the nurse turned to leave the room, Fi stopped her. "Oh, hey. Do NOT—under any circumstances—let my boyfriend and his brother anywhere near me with a camera phone, okay?"

While Sam, Dean, and Fiona dealt with their own drama along with Ziva, Castiel was in the midst of his own problems.

So many times watching Dean drinking from this bottle of liquor or that one, Castiel has noticed that the various spirits seem to help the hunter's emotional pain.

It all began with a liquor store that had closed for the night.

Castiel appeared inside and disabled the security alarms before walking past the shelves. Whiskey, scotch, rum, vodka… He starts on the whiskey first. It was a drink that Dean consumed on a regular basis—although perhaps not as often in past months. Cas was sure that Ziva David had something to do with that. She seemed to be bringing Dean out of the wreckage of what he'd been after returning from Hell.

Next to the whiskey was bourbon which Castiel knew was Fiona's preferred libation. It was strong, and seemed to warm him from the inside out. Cas swiftly downed several bottles before moving down the line.

He enjoyed the rums which reminded him of Heaven for some reason. Vodka was next—although he found it a little strong on its own, it was quite refreshing.

"Try this," Gabriel said, holding out an open bottle to his brother.

Castiel was quite inebriated at this point and eyed the bottle Gabriel held out to him. But his desire for more alcohol won out over skepticism and he drank deeply. It was smooth and reminded him of summer orchards and ripe peaches. He had found his drink. Dean had his whiskey, Fiona had her bourbon, Sam had his beer, and now Castiel had his—he looked at the label. Peach schnapps. Castiel nodded approvingly and downed the rest of the bottle.

Gabriel watched the younger angel decimate another 20 bottles of various liquors—keeping Cas away from gin and the cheaper tequilas—and finally winged him out of the store and to the motel room where Fiona was lying in bed, asleep, although some old movie was still playing on TV.

"What are we doing here?" Castiel slurred as he collapsed on the bed.

"Just sleep it off," Gabriel said, watching his brother roll onto his side and start snoring. Looking at the drunk angel, Gabriel sighed. He hated seeing Cas like this. But the younger angel wasn't great with emotional turmoil so it was hardly surprising. Hearing Cas's cell phone ringing, Gabriel grabbed it, although neither angel nor hunter even stirred. Stepping outside, the archangel turned the phone on and said, "Sam, what can I do for you?"

"Gabriel?" Sam said, sounding puzzled. "Why do you have Castiel's phone?"

"Because my little bro is passed out drunk in your motel room," Gabriel replied. "How can I help?"

Sam was quiet for a moment and then began filling the Trickster in on what was going on Blue Earth, Minnesota. "Sound like anything you know about?"

"Leah Gideon?" Gabriel repeated, running through the list of prophets in his head. "She's not a prophet. Trust me—I have the master list memorized."

"Then what is she?" Sam asked, still confused.

Hearing movement from inside the room, Gabriel thought for a second and then said, "Get back to you on that."

The following morning, Castiel felt like his head was going to explode, He groaned and rolled over, surprised when he heard Fiona groan next to him. Frowning at the young woman lying on her back, he gently ran a hand over the bruises, feeling Fi's muscles tense as he did so.

Something in Castiel's head came up—some memory of Jimmy Novak's. A memory of Jimmy running his hands over a woman's back and her moaning with pleasure. Cas wasn't sure why he was trying it, but he put his hands on Fiona's back, gently massaging the taut muscles.

At first, Fiona groaned at the pain. But the pain receded quickly and she gave a sigh of relief. "God, Sam, I love the shit out of you right now." When the hands stopped, Fi opened her eyes wide and rolled over, her jaw dropping as she saw Castiel in bed with her. "Oh, crap! Cas! What the hell?" she shouted, pulling up the blankets to cover herself up. Looking mortified, she pressed her hands to her mouth. "Tell me we didn't."

"We didn't what?" Castiel asked, confused. But after a moment, he nodded. "Yes, we did engage in sexual relations."

Fi brought her knees up to her chest and dropped her head on top of them. "I told Dean and Sam to keep me off the good stuff… because this—" she gestured to Castiel who seemed to take offense. "—is what happens!" Slowly getting out of the bed and getting dressed, she again cursed Sam and Dean.

She hadn't always been nutsy on painkillers. But once she got into her 20's, Vicodin, Percocet, and Demerol made her unbelievably loopy and her hormones went haywire and made her want to screw whoever happened to be around. That was if she didn't sleep 24/7.

Sam hadn't been expecting the motel door to open with a bang. He jumped and grabbed for his gun, almost ready to shoot by the time he realized that it was Castiel staggering into the room. "Gabriel relayed your message," he slurred, stumbling towards Sam. "It was long, your message. And I find the sound of his voice grating."

Sam frowned at Cas, startled to see the fallen angel even more disheveled than usual. "What's wrong with you?" But another few moments of watching Castiel, it made sense. "Are you… drunk?"

"No!" Cas snapped, defensively. But deciding that admitting it would be better, he amended, "Yes."

"What the hell happened to you?" Sam asked, not quite sure how Cas had gotten so drunk so fast. And yet, for some reason, he wondered if Castiel was on his first bender or his second.

"I found a liquor store," Cas replied, wishing he hadn't gone on a second drinking binge. But the fuzziness he felt now was far better than the hopelessness he felt when he sobered up.

"And?" Sam asked, wondering how much booze the angel had consumed.

"And I drank it!" Cas snapped, irritably. "Why do you need?"

"Well, Gabriel said that Leah's not a real prophet," Sam replied as Cas made his way to the sofa and sat down. "But beyond that, we've got nothing."

"Good for you," Cas muttered, sarcastically. "Why is it that lately you and your brother can't do anything without my help. I'm useless."

Sam knew enough from Dean's drinking binges to not take anything Cas said personally. "Look, Gabriel wasn't sure what was going on here. There've been these massive demon attacks, but he said the Enochian exorcism ritual the townspeople have been using was fake."

That news seemed to bring Castiel to attention. "The Whore of Babylon," he said, quickly. Standing up, he muttered, "And I thought waking up next to Fiona this morning was the worst part of my day."

"Wait, what?" Sam said, not sure he heard Cas correctly. "You and Fi…"

"She was just as surprised as I was," Cas muttered, wishing he could ignore the look of pain and betrayal on Sam's face.

2 Days Later

When Dean pulled up to the driveway of Fiona's old townhouse, he knew he wasn't ready for what he had to do.

The Whore of Babylon had been killed by him, even though Cas had insisted that the demon could only be killed by a true servant of Heaven.

Dean hated to think what that meant, but also knew that he'd postponed the inevitable long enough. Too many people had died because of his stubbornness.

Knocking on the front door, Dean waited until the door opened and Ziva appeared looking puzzled.

For the longest time, Dean couldn't understand what it was about Ziva David that he loved so much.

Sure, she was smokin' hot, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. When it came to looks, Ziva had the whole package: amazing legs, hair so soft that Dean couldn't stop running his hands through it when the two of them made love, and her eyes…

Those eyes the color of milk chocolate that showed—more than anything else—what mood she was in. Dean could remember seeing the pain and hurt in her eyes when she told him about her sister and killing her half-brother to save Gibbs. But when Ziva was happy, her eyes had a sparkle in them that seemed to light up her whole face, even if she wasn't actually smiling at the time.

But more than Ziva's beauty, it was her heart, soul, and mind that had won Dean Winchester over. She could be as stubborn as him, and at the same time, she could be as soft and comforting as a warm bed after a long hunt. She was everything Dean had been missing and everything he wanted.

"Are you alright, Dean?" Ziva asked, tentatively, as she studied Dean. She knew that he wasn't okay—anyone with eyes could see that. But she wanted to hear him say it. She wanted him to confide in her. To know that he could trust her with anything.

"Not really," Dean said, hesitantly. "Ziva, you… Next to Sam… You are the best thing to ever happen to me. When I'm with you, all the crap I've seen—everything I've ever been through—it all goes away. Every hunt, I count the minutes until I can hold you in my arms again."

Ziva wasn't sure what to say to that. But she could also see that Dean was trying to build up the courage to say something, and the pain in his eyes said that it wasn't something she wanted to hear. "Dean, don't…"

Dean shook his head with a sad smile. "Things are about to get really bad. Really bad. But you, Sam, Fi, Gibbs… You don't have to worry, because I'm making arrangements for you."

"Arrangements for what?" Ziva asked, wishing she knew what was going on.

"The people I'm going to see next?" Dean said, pushing on because if he stopped, he wouldn't have the strength to do what he needed to. "They're not going to get anything from me without agreeing to a few conditions."

Ziva didn't know what to say, but she understood sacrifice. She knew that whatever Dean was about to do, he wouldn't be doing it if there was any other way. "I understand," she said, as calmly as she could, even though a part of her didn't understand at all. Reaching behind her neck, she undid the clasp on her necklace and took Dean's hand, putting the Star of David into it and closing his fingers around it.

"Ziva, I can't take this," Dean argued, not looking her in the eyes. He tried to hand the necklace back, But Ziva was firm as she pushed the hand back.

"To give you the strength to do what you need to," She insisted, waiting until Dean finally met her eyes. "And to remember me by."

Dean pocketed the Star of David before reaching up and pulling his own necklace off. Holding it out to Ziva, he said, "Hold on to this for me? Just in case I make it out of this in one piece?" When Ziva took the necklace, Dean hesitated a moment, before pulling Ziva towards him and giving her one last, long kiss.

A/N: My explanation as far as the Nantucket Nectar thing, I won't post the whole thing here, but if you want to know, leave a review and I'll reply.