Author's Note: Please Review!

It was a three day hunt for a nest of Vampires in Lincoln Park, Michigan. It took a while to track down their leader, but eventually Dean had gotten the upper hand and easily chopped of his head with a machete. Now he was on his way back to the cabin with Sam.

The cabin itself was perched atop a mountain. Below it was a mass of forest that was all too simple to get lost in. When the Impala pulled up to the cabin Dean could barely manage to spit out a goodbye to Sam before trying not to run and failing miserably. He pushed the door open and shut it behind him, easily falling into his little boy mindset as naturally as breathing.

"Daddy! I'm home!" He called. He tossed his jacket aside, knowing Castiel wouldn't care, and went to find his Daddy.

Sam was about to start heading down the mountain when he realized that Dean had left his cell phone in the console compartment. So he went inside to return it.

"Daddy!" Dean called, checking Castiel's bedroom. He half expected him to be there connecting with his brethren, but the room was empty. "Daddy?" He called, a little less certain this time as he checked the nursery. Nothing. So he went back to look in the living room. "Da-" he was about to call again when he saw the worst sight he could have ever imagined.

Castiel lay in an unconscious heap on the floor. His face was battered and covered in bruises, and bloodstains were all over his clothes. One of his arms was twisted in a way that just wasn't natural. He looked so human. He looked... Dead.

Dean couldn't move. He was frozen in time, a statue with an expression of horror plastered on for all to see. He didn't notice the startled squeak of the word "Daddy" coming from his mouth, nor did he notice Sam rushing up from behind him to see what the matter was. When he saw, he was just as shocked without being so emotional. For a minute, he couldn't think of what to do.

But Dean could.

"Uncle Gabe," he whispered hoarsely, "I need your help."

Gabriel was there instantly. He took one look at Dean's shaken face and sprang into action. He barely blinked at his brother's broken form and instantly healed him. When Castiel took a breath Dean nearly collapsed to the floor in relief. It was only then that he realized he was crying. Gabriel helped his brother up. Castiel opened the connection between them and warned his brother to leave. A new angel was seeking power and would stop at nothing to acquire it. Gabriel was too powerful. If they sunk their claws into him, all of heaven could be in danger. He alone made a tempting target, but an archangel and heaven's rebel together? It was practically suicide. He had already been tormented for two days straight, and not once had he broken. The Angel that had invaded their home had left him alive for whatever reason. However, the Angel had had enough pity to knock him out so that he wouldn't have to endure the agony. Now, however, someone else was here to finish the job. So maybe it wasn't pity. Maybe one was assigned the role of tormentor and the other executioner. He didn't know. The pain was enough to make his head spin. Although he was in searing pain, he uttered two simple words:

"Dean. Run."

Dean didn't think twice before bolting toward the door. His instincts had taken over, and he was obeying his father's commands like a soldier, even though he didn't realize it at the time. When he was right across from the door he was suddenly thrown backward by an unseen force. He was tossed out the front door and sent tumbling down the mountainside. In the fleeting second he was able to think clearly, he found himself grateful that his car wasn't in the path. He ended his descent with a less-than-graceful hit to the head against the trunk of a Douglas Fur pine tree. The last thing he heard before the blackness took him was the sound of his father's voice calling out to him. The last conscious thought he had was the only word he cared about: Daddy.

The Angel that had thrown Dean out had been standing in the room next to them, and Castiel knew he had to act right then. He ran toward the Angel who had taken possession of a vessel in a clearly desperate attempt to protect his little boy. Somewhere in the haze of pain that clouded his mind it occurred to him that perhaps this fatherly instinct was not his own. His vessel Jimmy Novak had been a father long before Castiel had entered his life. The instinct, dormant for some time, now flared up again with a burst of energy. Dean was his to protect. His to defend. He grabbed the assailant by the throat and pulled as hard as he could, knowing that Gabriel (in all his pigheaded stubbornness) had refused to heed his warning and was already behind the attacker and stuck his own Angel blade into his back. Once he was satisfied that his brother could handle the torture and inquisition of their prisoner, Castiel started running out the door.

"Dean!" He shouted before spying the lad at the bottom of the hill. Castiel was instantly at his side, trying to get him to sit up. But it was no use. He was out cold. He would have used his grace to heal him, but he was still far too weak to do anything. As much as it pained him to say it, he would have to let human doctors deal with this. He carried Dean's limp body back up the hill and met up with Sam. He put a hand on Sam's shoulder and flew them to the nearest hospital. Dean was swiftly whisked to the emergency room while Castiel and Sam watched, dumbstruck.

Now all they could do was wait.