Thanks for still reading this fic despite the main love interest being, well, dead now. Don't worry, though. I promise that you'll love what happens as things move along. :)

Balthazar opened the door to the motel room, arms full with bags until he dropped them on the table and closed the door back with the heel of his foot. "I'm back," he announced, glancing around the room, "I got your stupid, mortal food. Where are you?"

"I'm here," a voice answered from the bed as a slender arm waved to him. "I'm right here."

He smiled, walking over to the bed to find that she was cleaning one of their guns. "Catherine," Bal chuckled, leaning down to lightly place a kiss on her forehead, "You should stop thinking about that nonsense for at least two minutes."

"Balthazar," she answered in turn as if she was going to chastise him about something, too, but instead just grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull him down for a kiss.

He smiled into the kiss and braced his arms on either side of her to keep from falling. Finally, he broke free enough for his lips to move along her jawline. "You're always telling me to eat, so I would rather like to enjoy the payback while I have it, love." He felt her cheeks bloom into a smile. "Eat before it gets cold."

With that, he pulled completely away from her to walk back when he felt her hand brush against his arm. "Bal."

He turned back to see an empty bed.

Balthazar's eyes opened to darkness and he took a moment to stare at the ceiling before shifting to look at the clock. Three A.M. Not a very good record. Then again, to his credit, that was the first time he had dreamed of her since... all of that.

He heaved a sigh and thought about how tired he should be. The last day and a half had consisted of a lot of driving to get to the nest before the angels left. He had several questions for Tyrus, of course, but he wasn't really going over there for detective work. Yet, three in the morning and he wasn't tired at all. He knew he needed his strength, despite how little he ate recently, but the thought of closing his eyes again was just sickening.

Bal looked up to the ceiling again and groaned before dragging himself off of the bed for a shower. Maybe he could grab a decent breakfast and ready himself more properly. Yes, waking up this early was a good thing. Sure.

After taking his shirt off, he thought hard about what to do with his grace, as he usually did every time he saw the thing. Take it off or leave it on? Or throw it as far as he could and run away very fast? He slapped his shirt on to the bed and walked into the bathroom, once again opting to leave it on... for the time being.

After a little searching around, Balthazar didn't take long in finding the angel's latest hideout. It didn't seem like they were really trying to hide, to be completely honest, probably due to the fact that they still needed vessels. He wasn't sure if the angels would recognize his own vessel, but he wasn't exactly going to test that.

All he had was his own angel blade. The one Catherine had was probably stuffed down in her bag somewhere, but he only ever fought with one blade during the wars and he was still counted as one of their best fighters. His grace might have been gone, but the thought of this being a big challenge was hardly even occurring to him. He had idly thought of bringing a gun, but it wasn't like that was going to do any good.

Night fell and, with another groan, Balthazar got out of the car and closed the creaky door behind him. They wouldn't be able to sense him coming, so he had opted to leave the car about a mile or so away from their nest. It had enough dents and scratches in it anyway.

About twenty minutes later of walking and forcing his mind to stay as clear as possible, Bal finally came up on their little hideout. It wasn't really what he had thought it would be. He expected a large warehouse or maybe a multistory structure, but no... This was a gas station. Apparently, Tyrus wasn't here with his whole flock. Balthazar grimaced, but decided that this was probably better. It would be fewer of them and it would be easier to find their leader, assuming he was actually there. If not, well, he'd see him eventually.

Rolling his shoulders and letting out a held breath, Balthazar stepped forward and walked in through the front entrance, a little bell going off over head to announce his presence.

The clerk behind the register only glanced up to him before bringing his attention back down to the newspaper. However, when Bal bypassed the shelves and went straight for the counter, the other man finally looked up to him again. "Can I help you?" he asked, one hand going under the countertop fluidly.

"I certainly hope so," Bal answered with a little smile, thankful that he wasn't recognized but wary on whether or not this was one of his brothers. "I came to-... Oh, what do they call it? See a man about a horse?"

The clerk – an older, more built man – just smirked to him. "We don't carry that sort of stuff, mister."

"You misunderstand," Balthazar chuckled, "I'm not here to help myself. I'm here to help you, so to speak." The other's smile fell away and Bal continued. "I've heard of strange things in the wind around here and I don't really have anywhere else to go. I was hoping that, maybe, those insane rumors might be true."

After a beat of silence, the clerk smiled warmly and slowly nodded. "They are, brother. There's always room in the Lord's flock."

Balthazar smiled back to him. "Thank you," he said with a nod and quickly thrust his arm forward to stab his blade through the angel's chest. There was a short scream and a light show, but the angel died quickly enough. Bal watched the body fall to the floor. There was probably going to video footage of him stabbing some guy in a store, but he was fairly sure the police would be more concerned with whether or not he killed a human being.

He stood his ground for a moment, waiting to see if anyone was going to run at him from somewhere. Once no one appeared after a brief pause, he vaulted himself over the counter to get to the staff door easier.

This was probably the first time that he wished he had his grace back, despite the damn thing still hanging around his neck. He had no idea how many angels there were in that back room, but there had to be at least two, surely. Bal was confident that he could take on many of them at once, but he was pretty sure that it was less confidence in his skill and more in the fact that he hardly even cared anymore. Whether or not Tyrus was there would change things. Being in his current state, he would have to make sure of who he did and didn't kill.

He let out a held breath and calmly opened the door, not bothering to hide or ready himself. On the other side, there weren't two angels but five. Three of them looked at him a bit curiously, but happy enough to see a willing vessel all the same. Two of them grew concerned looks and he knew that those were the ones who recognized him.

One tilted his head and stood up from the crate he had been sitting on. "So, they are coming back to life?" he muttered to himself before addressing him. "Balthazar... Where's Nakir?"

That one was Tyrus. Perfect. However, Balthazar frowned and glanced back to the body. "Nakir? Oh, that's a pity. I kind of liked him."

The others stood and drew their swords, but their leader raised his hand to stop them. "What do you think you're doing?"

Bal looked back to him. "What does it look like?" He took a step forward into the room, closing the door behind him. "You've heard the rumors, I'm sure. Malachi did."

Tyrus snorted with a nod. "You were the one who killed him."

"You can send me a thank you card later," he smirked back.

"We'll thank you now," Tyrus answered back before ordering the others. "Kill him."

Two of the angels jumped forward at once on command. Balthazar dodged one blade, implanting his own in one of their abdomens and throwing the body into the other soldier. He quickly stabbed him where the collar met the neck and another one burst into light. He ducked in time for one of their blades to slash over head and he stabbed them through the ribcage without even turning around. The last angel ran towards him – some woman – but Balthazar grabbed her wrist and twisted her around to face the front wall before pushing her away.

Before she could turn back around, he darted for Tyrus. The faction's leader raised his blade quickly, but Bal parried the sword away and stabbed the angel through the throat, blood spewing forth as the angel burned away. Once Tyrus fell, Balthazar turned around to face the final angel, blade still raised.

She stood against the wall, sword drawn and at the ready, obviously looking for an opening to attack. Bal took a few deep breaths before smirking and shaking his head. "Someone should run and tell the monkey suits, don't you think?" She frowned and he took a step forward. "Tell them I did this. Balthazar killed Tyrus and Malachi and he's going to kill more. You'll be the only one I let free, you understand? There'll be no more survivors... Send Michael my regards." She stood there longer and he nodded to the door, "You can go."

The angel glanced between him and the door several times, before she slowly walked closer to open it. She backed away into the store front before running. He slowly lowered his blade and looked down to his hands. Blood stained, again. At least the fresh blood felt warm on his permanently cold hands...

Deciding that it was entirely possible that she was going to get a posse together to track and kill him, Balthazar figured that he should leave quickly as well.

It was well into the next day and Balthazar was still driving down the road. The clouds had gathered to make the day a dreary one and the radio had warned of a storm that night that he did not want to drive through. Not to mention that he was still tired from the night before. The fight had worn him out a bit, showing that human bodies do actually tend to get out of shape. It probably had to do more with the lack of food and sleep than anything else. Doing this wrong was stupid and the last thing he needed to be right now was stupid. He just gave Michael a heads up. They would be looking for anything from him at this point, not that they were overly concerned about an emotional human just yet.

The rain had only started to drizzle down when he decided to take the first exit he came by, figuring there had to be some sort of inn or something if the heavily decorated sign was any indication. Instead he found a glorified truck stop. After a very heavy and weary sigh, Balthazar went inside for directions to the nearest motel and as much food as he could carry. Maybe he couldn't stay in one place for long now, but he could definitely take a power nap if need be. Unfortunately, after cleaning out as much warm food he could stomach, he learned that the nearest rest stop was a few more miles down the interstate. Lovely.

Instead, he drove for a while longer and found another recreation site that had been left abandoned due to rain. He parked and sighed for the billionth time that day, hoping beyond hope that the worst of the storm didn't last long. If he were more awake, maybe he'd feel better about driving through the bloody thing.

Something began to buzz softly from the backseat of the car and it took him a moment to realize that it was his phone. Oh, right. That damn thing still existed. Balthazar twisted around in his seat and dug around, finally finding it on the floorboard, vibrating away. The caller ID said Dean, but he had a feeling it was someone else.

After a moment, Bal picked the phone up and answered the call. "Hello?"

"Hello, Balthazar." Castiel's voice on the other end sounded very relieved. "You promised to call."

"I know," Bal sighed, "I'm sorry. There's been... quite a lot going on. Have you tried calling before?"

"Twice," his brother answered quickly, "But Gabriel told me that you probably wouldn't answer after, what was apparently, a sour conversation between the two of you."

"Story of my life," he mumbled, reaching over to see what food he had to eat, "And I am sorry. I may have thrown the phone in the backseat and forgot about it."

Cas seemed to chuckle on the other end. "It's fine. How are you?"

"Starving, I think. Still trying to figure out the human body," he answered, pulling out what looked like a burger. Bal grimaced at the smell and put it back to find something else. These chicken strip things looked okay. "Other than that, fine. Unhurt aside from anti-detection sigils, but they're not that bad. What about you? Stealing phones, I see."

He could hear his brother's confused pout through the phone. "I promised Dean to return his phone in a timely manner. I have not yet resorted to thievery."

Yet. Balthazar talked through his food while finally killing the car. "That's good, but it's not what I asked."

"I am fine," Castiel answered, "I haven't left again since you did. Gabriel seems to think we are beginning to gain on Lucifer, but I'm not so sure."

"Why not?"

"Lack of evidence to support such a theory," the other sighed, "but I do believe that we are close. What of Michael?"

Balthazar shrugged despite his lack of an audience. "Nothing to report, really. I've gotten more information and he knows that I'm looking for him, but that's about it. I don't know where he is right now. I'm only tracking his followers."

"That's a lot," Castiel said with something else hanging in his voice.

Fortunately, Bal caught it. "Perhaps, but I'm handling things one at a time... They need you there, Cas."

There was a silent moment on the other end. "I know," his brother finally answered, "but you shouldn't be alone either."

"I beg to differ," he commented, apparently also ending that bit of the conversation.

Another silence pulled between them until Castiel spoke again. "There's one more thing." Balthazar hummed in between bites of his food for his brother to continue. "Gabriel has taken Raphael's grace."

Ah. That slowed his chewing. Bal quickly swallowed. "The others?"

"No," Cas answered. "Just Raphael's, but the others are still in his possession... Well, ours. They're being kept safe in the bunker for now."

Balthazar nodded. "And his wings?"

"They're back," he seemed to answer proudly, "Gabriel's back. Sam and Dean have been giving him quite a wide berth lately."

"Can't really blame them," he muttered to himself, but also realized that while the archangel was the most powerful creature alive now, he was also the most wanted. "In that case, you definitely need to be there, then... I probably should."

"Only if you want to," Cas answered surprisingly, "but despite the reasoning, I do think that someone needs to be out scouting Michael's movements and you were always a good scout."

Balthazar couldn't help the very sincere smile spread across his face. "Thank you, Cassie."

Thunder cracked overhead and Bal finally looked to the outside world, only seeing the hard rain hitting against the windshield and hood. "I have a feeling I'm going to lose the signal soon," he said into the phone.

"I thought I heard thunder," Castiel answered back, "It's so strange that the marvels of men are so outstanding, yet nature still puts them in their place at every turn."

"If you told me that a few years ago, I would have patted you on the back," Bal replied before sighing. "I'm going to go, Cas. I'll try to call next time."

"Thank you," the other answered with something warm in his voice before the line went dead.

Balthazar sighed and looked to the phone, throwing it in the seat beside him before glancing at the food. He had eaten some while on the phone, but not a lot and his appetite was surely not there for it yet. Instead, he just put all the food back, packing the rest down on the floorboard before looking up at the rain.

He was very tired. Waking up at three in the morning the day before had done him no favors, but sleeping in the car was, once again, a thought he greatly despised. It smelled just like her and he hated it. He hated being in it at all when he thought about it, but when he wasn't thinking about it, driving seemed to be the only thing to keep him grounded and focused.

Bal watched the water fall and listened to the wind howl a bit before deciding that a nap probably wouldn't kill him, despite the locale. He looked to the steering wheel for hardly a second, before twisting around again to see the backseat. The bags were on the floor and the seat itself was clear. It was better than the driver's seat, that was for sure.

Instead of getting out and getting the interior wet, he shuffled and twisted around until he found himself finally falling into the back seat. After taking his jacket off to use as a pillow, he laid down, feet resting off the side to protect her stupid seats. The grace beneath his shirt shifted as he did to get more comfortable. As he immediately started to drift off, he hoped to hell and back that he wouldn't dream of her again.

I wrote most of this one in one sitting. I'm so happy with myself. Also, some things are going to start picking up next chapter, so look forward to that.

Review, follow, etc. Thank you for reading and staying with the story, as always. :)