Hi, guys. I know I'm being really slow with the updates, and the chapter is really short. I'm sorry about that. This story has been really difficult for me to write for some reason, and I don't mean to bring up the death of my uncle in such a way as to make you think I'm asking for sympathy, but honestly. Everything was fine when I started this, and then my life went downhill in the middle of it. I have a clear vision for where I want this story to go, I've actually outlined it to the end, but when I sit down to write, it really is sort of difficult due to the fact that I was working on it *then* and now is so...different. So, just to recap: updates will be happening, just longer away from each other, and possibly with shorter chapters.

There's definitely some Dean angst in this chapter along with some schmoop. Enjoy!

Dean rolled over in bed, rubbing his eyes. He checked the clock and groaned, realizing he had slept for five hours instead of his usual four. Of course, they had been awake quite late the night before, chatting and getting to know Gilda and Charlie. The Fairy and her mate were quite impressed with Dean's library, but it wasn't until Jess came home that they really "joined Team Winchester," as Charlie put it.

They loved Jess, of course. Everybody loved Jess. Even Becky grudgingly admitted that Jess was pretty sweet despite the fact that Becky was positively green with envy over her. Neither Gilda nor Charlie cared that Jess and Sam were together, however, so they spent a good portion of their first fifteen minutes with her gushing over how pretty she was, how much she was glowing, reading her palm and tealeaves, and asking about cravings. Just when Dean was worried he was going to start menstruating by association, Gilda turned the conversation to the baby itself.

"This one is going to be powerful," she had said, touching Jess's still flat belly lightly. "A real cursebreaker."

Jess had laughed, her dark eyes glittering a little in the bad lighting of the kitchen. "Curse breaking?" she asked, grabbing a cookie. "I figured he'd go into the law like Sam."

Gilda shrugged. "Perhaps. Forgive me, but…this is the first child of the Seventh Generation, is it not?"

"The Winchesters actually go back a lot longer than seven generations," Dean said, trying to smile, but feeling a bit defensive and knowing it came out in his voice.

"I mean since the Supernatural has been introduced to your family," Gilda said. "Somebody mated with something seven generations ago."

Castiel frowned. "I believe Dean's great grandfather Herschel was six generations ago," he murmured. "But his Angel was male…"

Dean and Castiel had frowned at each other for several moments, both suddenly aware of the fact that Herschel's mate was described as a male called Muriel, and yet…he was Dean's great-great-great-great-great-grandfather.

He and Castiel had both been a bit awkward after that, but when they finally fell into bed sometime after two in the morning, Castiel had snuggled into Dean, pressing his face into his neck, and they'd fallen asleep that way.

Being that he was gay, Dean hadn't really given a lot of thought to children. Plus, he'd practically raised Sam and Adam from the time he was just a kid, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to do it all over again. Sure, they'd be his kids rather than his brothers and that would make it different, but it really wasn't something that he ever expected to need to talk to a lover about. If Castiel and he could somehow have children, then they'd need to discuss it and see what they both wanted to do.

Dean suddenly found himself fervently hoping that old Grandpa Herschel had left detailed notes about getting Muriel pregnant, knowing full well how incredibly fucked up that was.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring at Castiel's profile. The Angel was lying on his back, eyes closed, hands crossed over his chest. One might think he was dead but for the slight rise and fall of his chest in measured movements.

What do Angels dream about?

Castiel turned his head. "I am not dreaming, beloved. I am seeking revelation."

Dean huffed a laugh, still caught off guard when Castiel read his thoughts. "Is that like when Becky tries to convince me she's praying when I catch her taking a catnap at her desk?"

"No, I was actually communicating with the Heavenly Host," Castiel said a bit defensively, but when Dean grabbed him and pulled him close, he added a meek, "I promise," to the end of it.

Dean kissed his forehead and chuckled. "I'm just teasing you, Cas." He glanced at the clock and gave a little groan. It was nearly eight in the morning, too late to do anything other than get up and dressed. "Come on, you're going to be late for work."

Castiel huffed when Dean got out of bed, T-shirt and boxers all sleep rumpled, hair sticking up on one side. "You forget my power," he said darkly, and then before Dean could turn to him, both of them were fully dressed for the day. His mouth even felt minty like he'd brushed his teeth. Dean narrowed his eyes at Castiel's smirk, tugging at the collar of his favorite green flannel.

"Big jerk," he muttered, sparing a glance in the mirror. He looked like he always did from his carefully disheveled hair to his motorcycle boots and the little charm Sammy had given him when they were kids.

Castiel came up behind him and hugged him around the waist. "You look gorgeous," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of Dean's neck.

Dean turned and pulled Castiel to his chest. "I wish you knew how to stop time. Then I could take you back to bed." He leaned down and kissed Castiel softly and lightly, letting his lips play over the Angel's, barely tugging and suckling at him when Sam, the big moose, pounded on the door twice before opening it.

"Hey, you two coming down at some point today?" he complained.

Dean barely looked up from Castiel's face, still holding his mate close, one arm wrapped tight around his waist, the other buried in the curls at the back of Castiel's head. "Maybe."

Sam made a sound between a raspberry and a laugh and closed the door on them.

"Sorry," Dean murmured, stealing another kiss.

"Why are you sorry? I find kissing you to be quite pleasant."

"Because my big stupid brother just interrupted us."

Castiel moved away, but reluctantly, and ran his hand through his hair, as though that would help in some way. Dean had to tamp down a smirk when all it did was make his hair even wilder. "As you mentioned earlier, I do need to go to work. I can fly there, but I would like to eat breakfast with the family first."

They made their way downstairs and sat down to Jessica's fluffy pancakes and Sam's fruit, which Dean found himself eating, but only because Castiel held it up for him. Once they finished breakfast, Dean gave Cas a parting kiss and squeezed his fingers, then watched in awe as, with a fluttering of blurry wings, Castiel disappeared from sight. In the garage, Sam and Jessica were leaving in their cars. He would be home alone for a good portion of the morning, and he had already decided he was going to start emptying out the attic.

He went up the stairs for that purpose, walked through the long dark hallway to the end, and pried open the slim, creaky door that led to the attic. If he and Cas were going to live up there, he'd need to think of a better solution for going inside, because the skinny old door was just creepy. He liked the idea of putting in a spiral staircase at the back of the house, too, so he and Sam and Jess wouldn't be running into each other on their ways to their respective bedrooms. And there might be room for a spiral staircase if they took out that old coat closet by the basement…

The attic was a dusty mess, but then he knew that. Almost everything was in boxes, and thankfully there weren't a lot of boxes, but they were all falling apart from rot and dust, and there was apparently a slight leak in one part over by the window, and the boxes under that area were moldy and disgusting. Dean opened the window and unceremoniously tossed those boxes out into the side yard to take care of later. He then examined the area of the roof and found the weak area, grunting a little when he touched it. Not a huge leak, but enough in the autumn weather to cause a bit of bother. Since it was a clear day, he decided he would take care of the issue that morning rather than waiting. Thankfully, he had extra shingles in the basement, so he went down there, grabbed them, then climbed out the window onto the roof to check the area.

The faulty shingles were warped, probably from the sun that summer. He pulled them off easily, patched up the weak area, and hammered in the new shingles, then went back to the attic to work on the boxes there. His family wasn't rich, so he wasn't necessarily expecting to find hidden treasure, but he did find some of his, Sam's and Adam's old clothes and toys, a box of his mother's old stuff, and a little rocking bassinette that he sort of remembered Adam laying in when he was a baby. The wood had seen better days and the little mattress was rotted, but he had a wild idea that he could fix it up and give it to Sam and Jess for a gift.

The clothes would have to be gone through to see if any were good enough to give away, and he always needed new shop rags for the garage and for cleaning, so he supposed anything that wasn't fit for wearing could be used for that. His mother's clothes, though, he hesitated at, and spying one of her favorite cardigans, experimentally held it to his face.

Tears swam in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dust in the air. It still smelled like her. Sure, it smelled old and abandoned, but he could still get a whiff of the mixture of her perfume and shampoo. A warm feeling settled over his shoulders, like a comforting blanket, and he hugged the cardigan to himself.

There were probably women who could use these clothes. Maybe a shelter for battered women. Maybe someplace that he could send them to, to make the world a little brighter by his mother's old things.

And yet…and yet it felt like he was considering giving her memory away.

Distracted, he felt his phone ring more than he heard it, and reached into his pocket. "Yeah?"

"Hello, Dean."

He let out a shaky, watery breath. "Hey, Cas."

"Are you all right?"

Dean wiped his eyes and explained the box of Mary's clothes to Castiel. His Angel was silent for a few moments, the sound of his breath the only thing keeping Dean company, but it was comforting in its way.

"What if we made a quilt out of her clothes?" Castiel murmured after several minutes. "One of the ladies here at work had a quilt made out of her daughter's old baby clothes. I think she hung it on her wall."

Dean felt something warm flare in his chest, and he smiled in deep gratitude for Castiel's presence in his life. "You're a genius, Cas. I bet there's enough here for me, Adam and Sammy to have a quilt of some sort if we all want it. Can you ask your coworker for the quilter's number?"

"Of course, beloved. I just…I wish I could send you a hug over the phone."

Dean laughed. "Stop it with the chick-flic moments, Cas."

"You're the one in an attic, sobbing into his dead mother's cardigan, Dean. Why don't you download some Joni Mitchell and make it a montage?"

Dean smiled, knowing that Castiel was teasing him, was sensitive to his current dilemma. "Hey, shut your stupid mouth about Joni, asshole. Both Sides, Now is the greatest song ever written."

"It really is," Castiel agreed. "I have looked at clouds from both sides, Dean, and while I don't know love at all, I know that I love you. Your soul shines so brightly. Even over the phone, I can feel it."

"Save the vows for our wedding, sweetheart," Dean teased back.

They talked for a minute more, but then Castiel said his boss was eyeing him, so Dean went back to work and let Cas do the same.

The Christmas decorations he took down to the basement, and Mary's clothes he brought to the living room so he and his brothers could choose items to have made into quilts, and the cradle he took to his room to show Cas, and hopefully to hide it from Sam and Jess so they would be surprised.

}O{

Lucifer's breath hitched and he squeezed his hands into fists by his sides. Hiding in the shadows was not something he was used to, but when Gabriel exited the shop across the street from where he was standing, he was glad that he wasn't out in the open.

Gabriel, his sweet little brother. He was styling himself as some sort of pagan god, letting his wings atrophy, his halo fade. The elation at seeing him was nearly overshadowed by deep disappointment at what he'd become. When Michael had told him, he hadn't believed it, but seeing it for himself, it was almost too much.

Lucifer moved back into the shadows and leaned against the alley wall, letting his head fall back against the brick.

He remembered when Gabriel was just a fledgling, climbing into trees and jumping out of them before his wings were strong enough to support him.

"Lucifer! Lucifer, watch!"

Lucifer looked up into a rainbow tree to see little Gabriel, his colorful wings flapping uselessly at his back. He was maybe four feet off the ground.

"I'm watching, little one," Lucifer said mildly.

"Okay, go!" Gabriel stood up on the branch and jumped down, his wing working and working like nobody's business. "There! I flew!"

Lucifer leaned down and lifted Gabriel high above his head. "Yes, you flew!"

He tossed his brother into the air a few times, making him giggle.

"Um, Lucifer, can you fly with me?"

Lucifer held Gabriel close and pushed off, hovering about thirty feet in the air. Gabriel clung to him tightly, his tiny body trembling.

"You're all right, Gabby," Lucifer said softly, pressing a kiss to the fledgling's cheek. "I would never drop you."

Lucifer slammed his head back against the brick wall of the alley. Well, he hadn't let Gabriel fall, but he'd let him down somehow. Sighing, he pushed off and in an instant, he was back in his apartment.

"Hello, Darling," Balthazar chirped happily, setting the table for dinner. "Cassie is making excellent progress, apparently he flew to work today…and what's wrong with you?" He dropped the plates on the table and moved to Lucifer, taking his face in his hands. "What happened, love?"

Lucifer moved in and wrapped his arms around Balthazar's waist, hugging him tight. "I, uh…I just had a strange day," he said.

Balthazar leaned in and kissed him, then took his hand and led him to the kitchen. "Well, here's to strange days. I've got delicious, free-range grass-fed beef, broccoli, sweet potato, and the best pinot noir you've ever laid your lips on."

Lucifer smiled and hugged his mate from behind, kissing his shoulder just inside the neck of his T-shirt. "It looks fantastic, baby."

Balthazar put his hands over Lucifer's and unwound him from his body. He turned and pushed Lucifer into one of the chairs and sat down in his lap. "All right, I'm going to sit here and feed you like I'm Dean and you're Cas, or…well…and eventually, you're going to tell me what happened."

Lucifer gave a little laugh and accepted the bite of steak that Balthazar held up for him. "I am so not Castiel in this relationship."

"Of course not, Darling. Of course not. Now open up and try this yummy sweet potato and then you just start from the beginning and keep going, okay?"