I am so sorry for the horribly sporadic updates. I have been incredibly busy with work and life. I've also suffered some nasty writer's block. As a treat, I present to you a long chapter. More are written too, so expect a few chapters over the next week or too. Thanks to everyone who is still keeping tabs on this story. I am doing my very best to complete it!

The Impala was speeding down the freeway at 85 miles per hour when Dean started to get angry again. It had been less than a week since the events in California and things were tense between the brothers. All Dean had discovered in California was a mysterious, possibly winged man who knew more about his brother than he did. He pressed his foot down on the accelerator, trying to break 90.

"I can't believe you never told me." Dean said to Sam for the third time in three days.

"There is nothing I can do about it." Sam snapped. "Besides, Castiel 'cleansed' me, or whatever, so maybe the demon blood is gone."

The look on Sam's face told Dean that his brother knew that it wasn't gone.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean pressed.

"That look on your face right now is the reason I didn't tell you. You think I'm a freak and there is nothing I can do about it. I don't feel different. I don't feel evil. It's blood, just blood. It has no impact on me as a person." Sam said.

"It made you attack Castiel. You went after him with a knife. You wanted to kill him." Dean said, shuddering a little bit when he remembered the look on Sam's face when he'd lunged at the other man with a knife. "Doesn't that worry you?"

"Maybe it's because he's not human. Maybe those were just my instincts."

"They weren't your instincts, they were something else. I know you better than anyone, Sammy. You don't kill people without provocation. You don't even do that with vampires or other beasties. Do you remember how you acted?" Dean said.

"I thought this was about me lying to you." Sam said. "Instead, you're just judging me. You think I'm a killer."

Dean didn't respond. He was angrier at Sam for not telling him about the demon blood than he was about Sam attacking Castiel. His brother had a point. He could lie to Sam, but he couldn't lie to himself. The demon blood and the sudden violence that seemed to engulf his younger brother scared him.

"I'm not judging you." Dean said finally.

They drove for awhile longer without speaking, heading toward Erie, Pennsylvania to check out some potential demon omens. The past week had been tense. The brothers had always fought, but they had never outright lied to each other before. Dean sacrificed everything for his brother and was always honest. If Sam died, he would make the same deal his father had. His father, who went to hell for him and would suffer there for eternity, had doomed himself for his son. Dean would do the exact same thing for his brother.

Dean pressed down on the pedal, making the Impala purr. Sam didn't even say anything when the car hit 100, and his brother was always after him to drive slower. Dean gritted his teeth and tried not think, tried to think about anything besides Sam and his demon blood.

Just as Dean was about to apologize to Sam for the third time in three days, everything changed. He opened his mouth to speak, to tell his brother that they'd move on with their lives and forget about the demons, when everything went white. He was driving down the freeway, and then he was blinded by light so pulverizing that it made him white out.

Dean awoke in an unfamiliar room that's colors echoed the burst of white light he'd experienced before he'd passed out. He sat up slowly, looking around, trying to get his bearings. The first thought that came to mind was speculation over how clean everything looked. The floor where he lay was covered in brilliant, white marble, not a mark on it, and the walls were a creamy white, covered in insipid paintings of bible scenes. A single white, leather couch sat in the middle of the room. Dean was sure he'd been kidnapped by demons, but the room was almost too immaculate to be the resting place of any kind of hell spawn.

Dean groaned and sat up, trying to get his bearings. "Hello?" He called, knowing as soon as the words left his mouth that talking was a bad idea. He stood up, rubbing the back of his head, which ached.

He heard a rustling that almost sounded like feathers.

"Well, at least Michael's true vessel is what humans would call attractive." A snotty voice said.

Dean spun around, coming face to face with two humans. One was an older man with beady eyes and a pot belly and the other was an attractive, blond woman who looked to be in her late 20s. They were dressed impeccably in navy blue suits, tailored perfectly for their figures. They stood next to each other, backs completely straight, their posture perfect. The blonde wore a mask, not a single emotion showing, but the man looked smug, his funny, birdlike features twisted into a smirk.

Dean reached for his knife, which he always kept holstered on his ankle. He wasn't fast enough, because the man in the navy suit burst out laughing, twitched his wrist and sent him flying.

"Silly boy." The man said, laughing more. "It wouldn't work anyway. You're coming with us."

Dean landed on the couch, which he supposed was lucky, or perhaps was the point.

"Be careful with him." The blonde said, her voice filled with ice.

"Who are you?" Dean asked. "Where's my brother?"

The blonde's face twitched, an imperceptible eye movement. "Your abomination of a brother is of no concern to us. Only you. You are the one true vessel."

Dean stood up. "If Sam's an abomination, then why do demons have me instead of him?"

The man cackled. "Dean Winchester, the one true vessel, thinks we're demons! How ironic is that, Hester?"

"We're angels. I am Hester and this is my associate, Zachariah." The blonde said, ignoring Zachariah's laughs. "We are on earth for the first time in 2000 years. We've been waiting to make our move. You revealed yourself to one of our kind and we knew it was time."

It was Dean's turn to laugh. "Angels? You're angels? I mean, lady, I can see you being one… but him? Dude looks like more like a constipated turkey than an angel."

The woman's face twitched again, this time into a quirk of a smile. The man, Zachariah, frowned.

"The war is beginning and it is being fought on earth." Zachariah said, his face darkening. "Your destiny has arrived."

"Whatever you say, angelface." Dean muttered, scanning the room for an exit. He didn't see one. He felt his blood go cold, a sense of danger setting in. He reached for the knife, lightning speed this time, and threw it at Zachariah. It landed squarely in his chest. Hester gaped at him, seemingly amazed he had the gall to attack the bird man in the blue suit. Zachariah just looked outraged and pulled the blade from his chest. He ran a palm over the shirt where a little bit of blood was beginning to seep out. When he moved his palm, the wound was gone.

"The archangel, Michael, has chosen you." Zachariah said smoothly. "You are coming with us."

"Archangel?" Dean squeaked.

Zachariah glided toward him and grabbed him by the shirt. "You do not defy me. You will say yes." He said, his voice coming out like a hiss. Then, without warning and with enormous strength that Dean had never experienced before, not even in a demon, Zachariah threw him clear across the room.

Dean's body crashed into the wall, which was made of some kind of stone, judging by the way pain shot through his body hard and fast. He fell limply to the ground. Dean blinked and tried to stand up, but his vision blurred and black dots swam in front of his eyes. He stumbled and tried to get up again, only to once again be lifted clear off the ground by Zachariah.

"Scum. I don't care that you're the vessel, you're all scum." Zachariah hissed. "Coming back here to get you, a womanizing, sinful, heathen makes me embarrassed to be an angel. I'm embarrassed that our leader will have to go within twenty feet of your meat."

Dean stared across the room at Hester, who was watching the scene with a cool detachment. He didn't know why her twist of a smile made her seem safer. Zachariah dropped him to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. Dean choked in pain as Zachariah kicked him again and again, his shiny black loafer landing blows that were surely tearing apart his internal organs and breaking his ribs. Sure enough, Dean felt his ribs crack and he cried out in pain. Zachariah just looked down on him, his face giddy. Seeing his chance, Dean tried to stand up again, but Zachariah simply clenched his fist and Dean fell back down the ground, tethered there by some unseen force. Zachariah kicked him again, hitting him square in the pelvis. Hot pain shot through Dean's legs and he screamed out in pain, which made Zachariah smile more. Not knowing what else to do, Dean curled himself into a fetal position, trying to ignore how heavy the middle of his body felt.

Internal bleeding. He thought as the loafer landed a blow on his head.

Hester appeared next to him and Zachariah stopped his assault. "Perhaps you'd better stop and heal him now. Michael won't be pleased." She murmured to him.

"We've been watching this worm since we came back. He's not worthy." Zachariah spat. "Michael can put him back together."

Dean stared up at Hester for help, but she did nothing as Zachariah kicked him in the face. The pain was overwhelming and all-encompassing now and he didn't even notice when he instinctively spit out a tooth. He was about to pass out, sure death was close, when he heard a voice.

"Leave him alone." The voice said, echoing throughout the room.

Zachariah stopped kicking him. From the floor, Dean watched Hester and Zachariah's faces change.

"How did you find this place?" Hester asked. For the first time since they'd snatched him from the highway, Dean heard emotion. She was confused and surprised.

Zachariah looked outraged, then pleased. "My, my, I thought we'd killed all of you." He said.

"Leave Dean alone." The voice said.

Suddenly the man whose voice he'd heard was standing in front of him. It was Castiel. He stood before the two beings in blue suits. Dean wanted to say something, but he was in too much pain.

"Are you working for Lucifer?" Zachariah spat. "It wouldn't surprise me, since you're sin itself. The Winchester boy would be a valuable pawn."

Castiel's face remained stoic. "I'm taking him with me."

"What are you?" Hester asked. "Brother, you're not one of us, but I can see your grace."

Zachariah let out a laugh that sounded like a bellow. "Hester, sometimes I forget how young you are. It's a Nephilim, a filthy, half-breed Nephilim. It's not a brother, it's a monster."

Hester gasped. "But I thought Michael killed them all?"

"This one somehow escaped detection. I'll take care of it, then we'll be able to bring him the body of this abomination and his true vessel. I'll surely get a promotion." Zachariah said, another smirk dancing across his face.

A blade appeared in Zachariah's hand, long and silver, shining and lethal. From the floor, Dean watched as Castiel's eyes turned white and the edges of his body started to gleam, light pouring from him like sunbeam. He disappeared and so did Zachariah. They reappeared on the edge of the massive room and began to fight. Dean struggled to get up, dragging himself to the wall, where he could lean and slow some of the bleeding. Hester ignored him completely. Dean knew this was his only chance to get away, but he knew he couldn't move and he didn't know where he'd go. Instead, he watched a battle unfold between two angels.

Castiel landed a punch on Zachariah, which bounced off the angel like a quarter. Zachariah dove at Castiel with the blade, but Castiel popped out of sight, appearing behind Zachariah. He lifted up a hand, which was emanating a blue glow and brought it down on the back of the angel's head. Zachariah howled and toppled to the ground.

Next to Dean, Hester gasped. "His grace. How could his grace do that?" She whispered.

Only momentarily deterred, Zachariah picked himself back up and Castiel popped out again, this time landing back in front of him and Hester. Zachariah appeared a second later. Dean watched as the burn on the angel's neck healed before his eyes. He threw a punch that made Castiel grunt in pain and sent him back a few feet backwards onto the ground. He quickly got up, his hands still glowing, and reached for Zachariah, who dodged him. Castiel's fingers skimmed the bottom of Zachariah's blazer and it burned, the fabric singed away. Zachariah grabbed Castiel's hand and flipped the smaller man over his shoulders, launching him ten feet into the wall next to Dean. Castiel landed with a thud and looked momentarily dazed, but was immediately back in front of Zachariah, throwing a punch that was teeming with light. The punch landed and Zachariah grimaced and his face bloomed in a purple burn, but brushed it off.

"You're fast!" Zachariah snarled, launching himself at Castiel.

Castiel dodged Zachariah's lumbering body and the angel literally flew over him. "Faster than you."

He popped out again, this time appearing about 5 feet in front of Dean and a horrified Hester.

"Zachariah! His grace! You can't handle this grace! He'll kill you!" She screamed.

Zachariah and Castiel circled each other in the cavernous room. "She's right." Castiel said, his eyes glowing brighter.

"You're a monster." Zachariah hissed, holding the blade out in front of him as a shield. "Your grace, it destroys instead of creating."

Dean couldn't really see, but he thought he saw a smile creep onto Castiel's face. "Actually, that's my soul." He said.

Castiel unleashed his wings.

The wings appeared out of nowhere, but the air around them quivered with magic and the glow around Castiel's body seemed to thicken and vibrate. Castiel's wings were huge, 15 feet of power and muscle, with feathers that were black as coal, but brilliant enough to reflect the light in the white room, making it look like the feathers were fixed with tiny diamonds. Dean was transfixed, and despite all the pain he was in, he longed to reach out and stroke the feathers.

"Those are your wings? You're showing off those?" Zachariah snarled, lowering his arm. "Pathetic."

Castiel grinned, his eyes cooling down and becoming their human-blue again. "They were just a distraction."

Zachariah looked down and his silver blade was in Castiel's hand now. In a split second, the blade was shoved into Zachariah's throat. Zachariah looked confused and then his eyes filled with light and it also began to pour out of his mouth. He screamed and the lights in the room began to shatter. Dean screamed too because the noise was deafening and it hurt, hurt more than the kicks and punches Zachariah had doled out just minutes before. He held his hands to his ears and felt blood. He was sure these were the last minutes of his life. Dean passed out and the last thing he saw was Castiel approaching Hester.

(~)

Castiel was healing the last of Dean Winchester's wounds when the hunter awoke. His eyes flew open and he sat up with a start.

"Where the hell am I?" He snapped, his green eyes darting back and forth.

Castiel smiled gently at him and stood up. He looked around his human house, knowing this was the last time he would probably inhabit it. Dean was seated on his beige couch and his head had been in Castiel's lap, making it easier for him to heal the last of his bruises.

He'd been at work, distracted and not working, because after a week, he'd finally been able to "tune in" to the angels' conversations. The shared grace and the large influx of angels within the United States made it easier. He'd been listening when he heard their plans for Dean Winchester. From that moment on, he knew his false existence as a human was over.

"This is my home, although it won't be for much longer." He said, trying to sound wistful.

"What… happened back there?" Dean choked. The hunter stopped and looked down at his hands. He ran a palm over his face, which had been shattered and deformed. "Why am I alive?" He asked, his voice quieter.

"I healed you." Castiel said, raising an eyebrow.

"How did you…" Dean started. He stopped and his mouth fell open.

"I was quite surprised myself, since I usually can only heal mortal wounds. I suppose that the shared grace accounts for that too." Castiel said.

This was the truth. He was still quite stunned by it. The hunter had fallen into a coma. His pelvis, jawbone and ribs had been shattered. These wounds alone would have almost certainly resulted in paralysis. He'd also had a concussion and quite possibly suffered brain damage. These injuries were nothing compared to the internal bleeding, which had almost finished the hunter off during his fight with Zachariah.

Castiel had almost wept when he returned to the house. He had been sure that Dean would die, that there was nothing he could do to save him. Then he'd started to heal him and it had worked. The light poured from him, just like it had during the fight and Castiel's grace had somehow been able to put the hunter back together.

"What are you?" Dean whispered. "Castiel, why did you help me?"

He shrugged, almost helplessly. "I couldn't let you die. The angels… they want war."

"You're an angel?"

He stood up, "No, you heard them. I'm sin itself." He said mutely.

Castiel flashed back to the look of disgust that Zachariah had been wearing when he flew into the room. The angel, who had infinitely more grace and generations of life on Castiel, had looked at him like he was a roach. No, worse than a roach, because a roach was one of God's creatures, a roach was pure, while Castiel was the result of a selfish and nearly impossible union between a fallen angel and a human. The easy way that Zachariah had called him "sin itself" and a "monster" had gored Castiel to the bone. He couldn't have read Zachariah's thoughts, but he'd felt the disgust, hatred, and confusion rolling off the angel. Zachariah had been one hundred percent convinced that Castiel was an affront to God and his belief had been so absolute, that Castiel almost believed him.

"You're not sin itself. You saved my life." Dean said.

"They would have healed you. The reason I came is because of what would have happened if they'd gotten you to Michael."

Castiel had heard it all too clearly.

"Angels are real?" Dean said, more to himself than anyone else.

"Yes. Angels are real. God is real, although he's been gone for millenniums. More importantly, Lucifer and Michael are real." Castiel said, trying to forget about how easily the blade had slid into Zachariah's gut.

It was just now occurring to him that he'd killed an angel.

Dean stared at him. "Lucifer? No… no way."

Castiel nodded. "Way." He stared at a fixed point on the wall behind Dean's head. There were still crusty, week old sigils on the walls. Sigils to keep angels out.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked suddenly.

"He's coming. After I healed the worse of your wounds, I called him. Luckily he picked up." Castiel said, remembering how angry the younger Winchester had gotten when he'd told him he had Dean.

"Can't you just… teleport us to him?"

Castiel stood up. He began to pace the living room, like he'd done just days before when he'd been overcome by the boredom of his "human life." The numbness of it was over now. Surely with the death of Zachariah, the fear he'd struck into Hester, and the abduction of Dean would bring the angels right to his doorstep.

"And you'd be right, you fucking idiot." A voice said out of nowhere.

Gabriel was standing in front of him, looking bitter, resigned, and slightly amused. Castiel was so caught up in his brooding that he hadn't even noticed that Gabriel's presence had once again joined with his. Castiel relaxed, enjoying the feeling of the shared grace between them. He was suddenly grateful his father was back.

Dean let out a growl and jumped to his feet, injuries and shock forgotten. "You!" He roared.

Gabriel just smirked at Dean. "Nice to see you too, Winchester."

"We killed you! Twice!"

Gabriel shrugged. "Yet despite that, my idiot son still felt the need to bring you back to life."

"This is a lie! It was all a lie!" Dean screamed. "What was the point of that? To make me believe in angels?"

Dean approached Gabriel. He stood nearly 7 inches higher than Gabriel's vessel, but he approached slowly, showing how cautious he was of the Archangel.

"Why won't you die?" Dean hissed. "Why do you keep messing with us? What was the point of even bringing Castiel into it? Is he a trickster too?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Go to sleep." He commanded. He touched Dean on the forehead and in a flash, the hunter was falling to the floor. Gabriel caught him easily and dragged him back over to the couch.

Castiel stared at Gabriel. His father knew the Winchesters? He knew what was going on?

"I had no idea that buffoon would be so important." Gabriel said, raising an eyebrow.

"Gabriel, what's going on?" Castiel demanded.

Gabriel sighed and closed his eyes. "I warned you to stay out of it, but I knew once you met the Winchesters, once I realized how you felt for Dean, that you'd get involved."

"What is going on? Why does he know you?"

"I ran into them on a couple hunts." Gabriel admitted. "I killed Dean a bunch of times to punish him for the first time they tried to kill me."

"You KILLED him?"

Gabriel just shrugged. "Hey. I brought him back."

"Why does Michael want him? Why does he need Dean to kill Lucifer?" Castiel asked , trying to keep the incredulousness off his face.

"The end of the world, at least this world. Son, it's the goddamn apocalypse." Gabriel said.

Castiel tried to keep his mouth from falling open. He'd suspected something was happening. He knew it'd be bad. He knew they were going to war. He just hadn't thought the the war would be on earth.

"Why? Why would the angels want to end the world?" Castiel whispered.

Gabriel just cocked his head to the side and smile bitterly. "They're lazy assholes. They don't want this world anymore. It's too messy. They want earth to go one way or another. The demons want to free Lucifer and bring on non-stop darkness. The angels want Michael to stop Lucifer and bring on paradise."

"Why don't they just stop Lucifer from being released then? It has to be easy for them. Hell, demons are even easy for me."

"If he's not released, if he doesn't fight his brother, they don't get paradise. They'd have to keep the mess, the freewill, the humans." Gabriel said. "The angels and the demons, they need their war, they need the symbolism, they need to follow what has been written. What was written was that Lilith will release Lucifer and Lucifer and Michael will fight to the death on neutral ground: earth."

"What do we want?" Castiel asked, feeling numb.

"We don't get involved. We don't care. We're leaving this plane, Cas. I disappeared for a few days and went and saw some old contacts. Some of the Gods are hopping dimensions. They want us to come with them." Gabriel said.

"Why not paradise?"

"They'd decimate you. They'd try to decimate me. The Gods will be killed too. Our entire family will be gone." Gabriel said. "The only way out is to leave."

"What does this have to do with Dean and Sam?"

"It's destiny, Castiel. This is their destiny. We can't do anything to help them, not that they would ever want our help."

"We can fight." Castiel said. "We can fight with them."

"We don't care about them." Gabriel said sharply. "I told you years ago, we don't care about humans. I thought you had gotten past that."

Castiel stared at the archangel, not sure what to say. He'd grown up on earth. He didn't know anything else. For him, there wasn't anything else. He knew that Heaven and Hell existed but he didn't think he'd be able to get into either of them. Not his whole self. His soul would go to one or the other, but Castiel, his whole self would be lost. Earth was his home. He was partly human and if he went with the Gods, he had no idea what would happen to his humanity or his grace. He didn't want to leave earth.

"You'd still be you, Cas." Gabriel said. "It's the only way."

"Why? Why can't we fight?" He murmured.

"Kid, they'd destroy us. You can't fight Heaven. You can't fight Hell. You certainly can't fight both."

"Is Kali going?" Castiel asked.

Gabriel was silent for a minute and a flash of sorrow crossed his face. "No. She's staying here."

"Why?"

Gabriel didn't respond.

"It's her home." Castiel said. "It's ours. The angels haven't been here in 2000 years. It doesn't belong to them. Gabriel, we can't let them have it."

Gabriel sighed. He looked defeated. Slightly devastated. More than anything, the archangel was scared. He knew that they didn't stand a chance against the angels. He knew that the demons didn't either, although with Lucifer, the demons themselves thought they might stand a chance. Gabriel had always looked out for Gabriel. Now he looked out for Castiel.

"We're leaving in a week." Gabriel said simply. He was direct, commanding. "I have to prepare. I will come for you soon. Stay in this house, stay hidden. I strengthened the wards. Leave, your soul and your grace will shine like a beacon."

Gabriel flew away.

Not caring that he was a beacon, Castiel picked up Dean Winchester, and he flew away too.