Eros looked out over the park at the lake and mused at how the trees reflected upon the water. They looked like mirrors echoing the sky in an envious attempt to display it upon the earth. He decided that if he could choose between those two worlds, he would like to explore the reflection instead of the reality. There was probably much more imagination there.
"Thank you for coming, Eros," Castiel said from behind him and Eros turned to look at him with a smile.
"Of course. I always come when you call, brother," he said honestly and Castiel shrugged, looking away.
"I wasn't sure after…you were upset with me when we last were together."
"Yes," Eros admitted and turned back to the water. Castiel approached the park bench where he sat, and joined him in sitting. They admired the water in silence for a while, but it was Castiel who was first to speak.
"I feel that I am in so far over my head right now, brother, I don't even know which way is up anymore," Castiel said softly and the ache in his voice pulled at Eros's heart strings.
"I'm sorry, Castiel. I wish I knew how to console you, but I have spent a lot of time thinking about how things transpired between us before and I understand now where my mistake lied."
"Explain it to me then," Castiel said. Eros noticed a heron coming in for a landing and his eyes followed the bird in flight.
"I based all my decisions on what was most important to me. For a while, I thought you were what was most important to me and I did everything you asked of me. Even if I didn't want to. Then I thought that it wasn't you at all but instead it was my work and discovery that was most important to me and I sacrificed all alliances to see the experiment through." The heron skidded across the water, gliding on open wings, and then dropped to finally rest afloat the mild current of the waves. Eros contemplated if he could perform the same feat with his own wings.
"So what is most important to you," Castiel asked and Eros turned to look at him.
"Choice," he said simply and Castiel nodded understanding. "No person or thing is most important to me. It is the choices I make that matter. I can see that now. I am not like you in that way. The only thing that is important to you is Dean."
"I am soul-bound to Dean," Castiel said simply as though that forgave all transgressions. Eros didn't comprehend how soul-binding worked but he suspected that Castiel had a bit more choice in the matter than he let on. Underneath it all, Castiel wasn't one to lead. He much preferred to follow.
"And now? What has you so far over your head?" Eros asked and Castiel sighed.
"This war…it's apparently not over. Unfortunately it is only beginning."
"I can sense that Gabriel fared well with his transition into his new vessel. Is he not able to help you?"
"Sam and Gabriel have abandoned Dean. They are allying with Crowley, the King of Hell," Castiel said miserably and from the way he said the name, Eros could tell how little he thought of this King of Hell person.
"I see. So what can I do to help you?" Eros asked and Castiel looked at him surprised.
"Would you? Help me, I mean."
"Of course! Is that not why you are here? To ask for my help?" Eros said, laughing, "I know we had some situations between us, but we are still family, are we not?" Castiel nodded, and his gaze dropped to his hands.
"Thank you, Eros. Yes, I do need your help. I called you here because…I was hoping you could help me understand the connection between Lucifer and Sam."
Sam arrived a few minutes late, and was pleased to see Crowley already waiting for him. When boldly selecting the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, he didn't realize how terrifyingly narrow the thing was, but he knew Gabriel was there and would stop him if he happened to fall. He pulled at the angel's Grace and wrapped it around him like a cloak. Gabriel whined at Crowley until the demon opened his arms, and then he trotted over to Crowley's knowing hands.
"Thank you for meeting me here," said Sam and he watched Crowley sink his fingers into Gabriel's neck fur. The dog closed his eyes in a grin.
"I would have much preferred a place of lower altitude," Crowley said with mild irritation, "perhaps a nice bar or smoking lounge."
"Not many places allow pets," said Sam with a smile and Crowley scoffed.
"So tell me what this is about, Moose. Why the secrecy? Why the elevation? Why the absence of one squirrel and his angelic friend?"
"I have heard that Serrath may still be forming an army. One that she intends to send after Dean. Why?"
"Isn't it obvious? Dean has always been your weakest link. What better way to get you to kill countless monsters than by putting your brother in danger?" Crowley leaned over and nuzzled Gabriel with his nose. The dog lifted his head and huffed his pleasure at the contact. Sam couldn't tell if Crowley was smitten with the dog or with the angel.
"Why would she want me to kill so many monster?" Sam asked softly and he thought about the tightening he felt in his chest.
"I don't think I'm ready to show all my cards yet, Samantha," Crowley said, lifting his head to meet Sam's eyes, "no matter how lovely your dog is."
"Fine," Sam said with a shrug. He already knew the half of it anyway. These deaths were…affecting him somehow. Whatever that meant, he didn't know but he could assume that was Serrath's intent. "So let's talk about how we can help each other instead."
Crowley pushed Gabriel off of his lap and stood. He brushed at the hairs clinging to his black suit and fixed Sam with a smile. "Go on, I'm listening."
"Tell me," Sam said as Gabe padded back over to his side, "how quickly would you be able to orchestrate a demon army?"
"Sam!" Dean shouted and he sat upright with a jolt. Hands slid over his chest and the soft glow of Grace illuminated the room.
"Dean?" Cas's voice called urgently. Dean looked around and realized they were in his bedroom. Cas has taken to laying with Dean at night to help him sleep. Since purgatory, Dean has never been able to have a restful night's sleep without at least one nightmare plaguing him, but having Cas there helped. He has slept better with Cas around than he has slept for decades. Not since his first hunt. Not since seeing his first kill. But even Cas wasn't able to keep the nightmares away that night. He dreamt of Sam in hell. Sam surrounded by demons and grinning. Sam with eyes black as night. Then a vision of Sam surrounded by an army and terrified.
"Dean!" Cas's voice came more urgently and Dean turned to find his eyes. Blue to green. Speaking volumes in the hazy glow of Grace light. Emotions exchanged between them. Worry, fear, concern, foreboding, love, love.
"Something bad is happening to Sam," Dean admitted after his heart stopped pounding against his ribcage.
"How can you be sure?" Castiel asked and his fingers found Deans hair; stroking tentatively at the temples.
"I don't know…I don't know. I just know, alright?" Dean pulled Cas's hand away and took it in his own. He leaned over and absently kissed at the fingertips.
"Dean, I don't like when you are scared," Cas whispered and a tremor edged his voice.
"I know, me neither" Dean whispered in return.
"I feel so helpless when you are scared and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help you," his voice sounded more desperate and Dean pulled him close; making shushing sounds against his hair.
"Eros is helping us and we will figure something out, right? I'll try to call Sam again tomorrow. Maybe he'll answer this time." Castiel nodded.
"Maybe he will." But doubt was the only emotion either man sensed in the other.
Eros grinned when Dean set down the heaping plateful of pancakes. When the container of syrup followed, his face practically split in two with how big his smile was.
"Oh, you are too good to me, brother-in-law. Are there bananas in these pancakes?" Dean rounded the table to face the devilish angel and threw himself in an adjacent seat.
"What did you just call me?" he asked and Eros lifted his eyes from the spread in front of him.
"What? Brother-in-law? Well you practically are mine, are you not? Isn't Castiel your soul-bound?"
"Alright, alright, just cool the married talk around Cas, okay?" Dean said, waving his hands for emphasis. There was no way he was going down that road. Not that Eros's wasn't completely right. Dean couldn't imagine himself with anyone but Castiel, it was just…marriage made him nervous. He was not the settle-down type. How would something like that even work anyway?
Watching Eros dig into his pancakes slathered with way too much syrup, Dean thought about what a wedding would look like with Castiel. He thought of Cas in a dress and the idea made him almost laugh out loud. No, Castiel was always the suit kind. Hell, until recently that was pretty much the only thing he ventured to wear. But Dean wouldn't want Cas in his old business and trench attire. No, Dean could see Cas in a fricken tux and the whole nine. Decked out like he was at some grand ball or something. Maybe with a splash of color in a nice fitting vest. Or maybe something slick like those threads he got when he was zapped back to the 1930s. He thought of Cas with his hair combed to the side, sleek and gentlemanly, and he thought about Cas walking down some ridiculously cheesy aisle to where Dean stood in some modestly adorned outdoor wedding.
Would they exchange their own vows? What would he say to Cas that he hasn't already said? That he is sorry he spent so much of his life trying to run from his feelings? That was a good start. That Castiel was the only person he could depend on outside of Sam and that every time he went away Dean felt something shrivel up inside his heart? Dean thought about Castiel's eyes and how they glow in the sun. He thought about Castiel's lips and how they sometimes curve into a smile. He thought about how they might look when he kissed him in front of what friends they still had alive.
"Dean," came a husky voice from the entrance to the kitchen and Dean turned to see Castiel leaning against the doorframe. He was panting, his shirt opened at the collar, and a red flush covered his face.
"Cas? What the…"
"Castiel!" Eros gasped and he was to his feet.
"What's going on?" Dean asked, and Eros glared at him.
"What was going on in your brain? What are you projecting?"
"Projecting?" Dean said confused but already Eros was walking around the table and reaching for his brother.
"He is a flaming beacon, Dean. Whatever you were projecting, he absorbed every single ounce of it. He needs to expel his Grace. Now." Dean could feel the heat in his face as he rose to follow after the two angels. Cas could…see what he was…projecting? And look at the result of it! It seemed like every time they took a step forward in their relationship they took two steps back. He didn't even know he was projecting anything! He was just idly daydreaming about… Dean refused to believe he was blushing like a girl over silly wedding fantasies.
Eros led Castiel outside and took him into the forest a distance away from the house.
"I have been thinking about this for some time, Castiel, what to do with all this extra Grace you're absorbing," Eros was speaking low and hushed against Castiel's ear but Dean was able to pick it all up in the quiet of the morning. Castiel on the other hand, seemed overwhelmed and hardly able to hear anything at all.
"You're situation is unique," Eros continued, "no other angel would be able to produce the magnitude of power that you are capable of. But it's a loose cannon. Unfiltered. I have been thinking about how I created the Recurve bows and how to adapt that creation into a workable renewable resource." He turned then, and looked straight at Dean. Up to that point, Dean wondered if Eros was even aware that he had tagged along.
"What weapon most suits you, hunter?" he asked and his eyes were intense in their gaze. Dean hesitated, feeling suddenly put on the spot, and took a step back.
"Wait…what?"
"We have little time," Eros said, his voice rising, "from the level of Castiel's Grace I suspect his vessel is going to combust in less than two minutes. Now! What. Weapon. Most. Suits. You?"
"Machete," Dean said without thought. He has had a lot of weapons over the years. The colt, the demon blade, whatever the fuck he could get his hands on that worked in the moment. But when he was in purgatory, the machete he had there was a part of him. It was an extension of his arm. He slept with it; hell he even shaved with it. That was the link he had to living. To life itself. He sorely hated to let it go when he passed back through to the other side.
"Wait here," Eros said sternly, and he turned back to Castiel. Before Dean knew what was happening, they both winked out of existence.
"Hey!" Dean called out after them but no one responded. Worry rose in him on the wake of bile and he swallowed hard to keep from spilling his morning coffee all over the forest floor. What did he do to Cas? Was his vessel actually going to combust? Sure they had their share of a few close calls, but he never imagined; never thought for an instant that it was that dangerous. He didn't know that Cas was on the edge like that all the time. Hell Cas was one wet dream away from frying out forever and Dean was in the other room whacking it to thoughts of Cas bent over a bed.
Realization hit home with profound self-effacing shame. He was an asshole yet again and God help him if Castiel got hurt because of it. Settling down into the forest leaves, Dean closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. However long it took, he would wait there until Cas returned.