Thank you so much Jenjoremy for giving your time to beta this for me and Gredelina1 for supporting, encouraging and being my outline buddy.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Dean heard voices as he approached the library, and he checked his watch in surprise. It was early for other people to be up already, except for Castiel who was awake all the time—though he did rest during the night in the bedroom they'd set up for him, reading or watching TV.

Dean had given up on the idea of sleep after the third time he'd awoken from a nightmare of laying out Castiel's dead body with Sam. Sleep didn't provide any rest when you were being tortured. He'd planned on starting some coffee and prepping some food for when the others woke, but judging by the voices he could hear coming from the library, Charlie and Kevin were already awake.

He wandered into the room and saw Charlie and Kevin sitting at one of the long tables. Kevin had the tablet and a notepad in front of him, and Charlie was peering at the notes. Dean had spent long enough trying to make sense of Kevin's squiggled symbols and cryptic notes to be impressed that Charlie could apparently read what they said.

"Have you—" he started, but Kevin held up one hand and said, "Wait!"

"He's been saying that for thirty minutes now," Charlie informed him.

Dean felt a flicker of excitement. "Have you found something, Kev?"

"I said wait," Kevin said without looking up from the tablet.

Charlie shrugged helplessly.

"Have you been at this all night?" he asked her.

"Not all night," she said. "We were pulling an all-nighter on the Playstation before Kev had a fit of conscience and decided to come stare at the tablet a while. He started gibbering a while ago, and now he just keeps telling me to wait."

It certainly sounded like something, Dean thought.

"Think I should get the others?" Dean asked.

Charlie nodded.

Dean strode back to the living quarters of the bunker and slammed a hand on Sam's bedroom door first then wandered further along to Castiel's room. Before he could reach the door though, Castiel opened it and said, "Is everything okay?"

Had he always looked so tired? Dean wondered. Despite being an angel, Castiel had never been a pillar of heavenly magnificence the way they were painted, but Dean didn't remember his eyes being quite so tired and his skin hadn't had that pallor.

"Dean?" Castiel prompted, interrupting Dean's assessment. "What's wrong?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to say, "You are," but he controlled himself and pasted on a smile. "I think Kev's found something on the tablet."

Castiel's eyes glinted with excitement. "He has?"

"Well, so far all he's doing is telling us to wait, but it's looking hopeful. Figured you and Sam should be there, too."

"Yes," Castiel said eagerly. "We should."

He pushed past Dean and hurried along the corridor. Dean went back to Sam's room and slapped the door again. "Sammy!"

"Yeah, coming," Sam called back.

When Dean got back to the library, he found Kevin still hunched low over the tablet and Castiel leaning over the table, trying to read Kevin's notes upside down.

Castiel started to speak Kevin's name, but Kevin cut him off with, "One more minute, Cas."

Castiel nodded and glanced at the fancy mantle clock on the bookshelf. Dean would have pointed out that Kevin probably didn't actually mean a technical minute, but Sam came in then and drew his attention.

Dean knew at once he wasn't the only one having nightmares. Sam's eyes found Castiel at once, and his slight look of relief became a frown as he took in the angel's condition. Sam himself didn't look that healthy either. His eyes were shadowed and he was pale, sure signs he wasn't sleeping well enough.

After a long minute, Kevin straightened up. He looked wild-eyed and a little wired, like he'd had too much caffeine.

"Well," Castiel said. "Have you found something?"

"Yeah," Kevin said. "I think I have. It's not much, and it might not even work, but I think…" He drew a deep breath and said, "I think I've found the way back into Heaven."

Charlie clapped him on the back. "Woohoo, Kev!"

Castiel seemed to fill with life. His face flushed with color and his back straightened out of the slump. "How?"

"Okay," Kevin said, becoming serious. "Metatron said that it was something no reaper, human or angel would sacrifice, right?"

"Yes," Castiel said.

"Well here's a spell that uses all three beings to—'Return that which was banished from the pure.'"

"That is Heaven," Castiel said at once. "Heaven is purity. When angels are there, we're without the constraints of our vessels. We are pure grace. Human souls are there without bodies—they're pure. It is pure creation."

Dean felt the passion in his voice reaching him, too. Even though he had visited Heaven and seen it was not all he'd hoped for, he couldn't help but feel some awe at the way Castiel spoke about it. He understood then that it was Castiel's home in a way the earth and bunker could never be. Rather than making him sad that Castiel was separate to them in this small way, he felt happiness that there was somewhere that made Castiel feel like that.

"So, it's the right spell," Sam said. "What are the ingredients? Where do the reapers and angels come in?"

"We need a 'Death's good right hand'. That has to mean a reaper, right?"

"Or it means the Horseman's actual right hand," Dean said dourly. "Which would be perfect as he's not our number one fan."

"We'll assume reaper, though," Sam said, "as that's who Metatron said had to make the sacrifice. What else, Kev?"

"An angel's 'pride, freedom and face'," he answered, looking at Castiel. "Ideas?"

Castiel looked nauseated. "Wings," he said. "The spell requires an angel's wings."

"You sure?" Sam asked. "That's a pretty bold ask."

"No bolder than an angel's grace," he replied, "Our wings are our pride. They denote power and rank. And the face… It's humans that are preoccupied with faces, not angels, as our faces are not our own when we're earthbound. Our wings are though. Both in Heaven and on earth, you see the wings more than you see the face to recognize each other."

Dean had always thought of wings as the thing that made angels what they were. He'd never considered the fact they were what made them who they were, too. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around the idea of not seeing faces. But he glanced at Sam then and understood. When he'd been trying to connect with Sam after Gadreel had been expelled, he had seen the connection between him and Sam as a rope of light. He had known it was Sam without the face. It had been natural recognition to him. He supposed it worked similarly for the angels.

"Okay," Charlie said. "What about the human part?"

"That one's harder. We need a 'soul on the path to purity'. I don't know. It could mean a saint the way it did when we were going after the Leviathans, or it could mean…" Kevin shrugged, "pretty much anyone truly good and pure."

"Because people like that are so easy to come by," Charlie said humorlessly.

That was precisely the problem, Dean thought. The reaper part was workable, as they had Tessa who could help them, but no angel was doing let them clip its wings and where were they supposed to find a 'pure' human?

"You are over-thinking this," Castiel said. "You're forgetting who created the tablet."

"Metatron," Charlie said knowledgably.

"No. God," Castiel corrected. "He was the one that wanted His work to be protected so He had Metatron write the tablets for Him. They are His words. Remember, Heaven is purity, so a soul on the path to purity means a Heaven bound soul."

"Oh," Dean said, feeling slightly stupid for not seeing that himself.

"So we get all these things, what do we do next?" Sam asked.

"I think we stick them in a bowl, say the magic words, and poof, Heaven is open for business again."

"Slow down, Harry Potter," Dean said.

"Really, Dean," Charlie said impatiently. "Wizards don't stick things in bowls and say magic words."

"I'm sorry, Hermione, am I disrespecting your religious beliefs?"

Charlie looked mutinous. "First of all: yes, you are. And second: Hermione rocks, so you totally just complimented me."

"I don't mind that," Dean said, casting her a smile, which she returned.

"First things first," Castiel said, redirecting Dean's attention to the problem at hand. "We need to contact Tessa."

"Missouri," Sam said. "That's who hooked us up with her before. I'll make the call."

Charlie cleared her throat. "You might want to wait a while. It's kinda crazy early still."

Sam nodded and Dean cleared his throat. "I'll get breakfast started then."

Though Missouri arrived less than an hour after they'd called her, with Tessa in tow, she apologized for making them wait when Dean opened the door to her.

She stepped past him into the bunker and said, "Whooee, look at this place. You boys sure landed on your feet."

"It's home," Dean said modestly.

"Some home."

She made her way down the stairs at a trot and then strode straight through to the library where the others were gathered. Dean heard her greeting them all by name, including Castiel and Kevin whom she'd never met before.

Tessa stepped over the threshold tentatively, and then smiled at Dean. "Your Men of Letters weren't afraid of reapers then."

"Guess not," Dean said. "This place was supposed to be warded against everything,"

"Perhaps they were not afraid of death," she said, "knowing that it is a part of the natural cycle for everyone."

Dean wondered if she was referring to Castiel. Did she know something more than they did? Did angels even get reaped when they died? Where did they go? That question brought a lump to his throat and he had to swallow repeatedly to force it down. He considered asking Tessa some of his questions, but he was almost afraid of the answer. What if there was nothing for Castiel after?

He rushed down the steps and into the library.

Kevin and Charlie were pouring out coffee into mugs and Missouri was whispering to Sam, her hand on his arm.

"Guys, this is Tessa," Dean said. "Tessa, this is Kevin and Charlie."

"Nice to meet you," Charlie said brightly. Dean had to admire her verve for life, greeting a reaper with her usual friendliness.

"You want coffee?" Kevin asked. "Do reapers even drink coffee? Do you drink anything?"

"I do drink, but I do not want coffee," Tessa said politely. "I would very much like to get to work."

Dean picked up the notes they'd made of what was on the tablet and what they'd deduced from it. "Okay, we're pretty sure we need a Heaven bound soul and an angel's wings," he said. "But for the reaper part we've got, 'Death's good right hand'. We're really hoping that doesn't mean the real Death, as he's not a fan right now."

"No," Tessa said, glancing at Sam. "He wouldn't be."

"Do you know what it means?" Sam asked her.

"It means this," Tessa said, holding out her right hand. For a moment Dean thought she meant it literally meant her actual hand, but then he looked closer and saw there was a tattoo like mark on her hand—similar to the one that had been on the cupid's as a bow. He peered closer and saw it was a short-handled scythe.

"Awesome," Dean said. "That was easy."

Tessa smiled sadly.

"It's not easy?" he guessed. "What's the problem?"

"The problem is that to give you that is to sacrifice everything," Missouri said.

Dean turned stunned eyes on her. "What?"

"To give up my scythe is to give up myself as a reaper," Tessa said. "I would no longer be the being I have been since the birth of humanity. It means to become human."

Castiel, who had been standing with Sam, a silent observer, sucked in a shocked breath.

"Oh," Dean breathed. Their simple plan had just become a lot more complicated.

"I can do it," Tessa said bracingly. "It will not be a problem."

"Tessa," Castiel said with gentle familiarity Dean didn't expect. "Do you appreciate what you are saying?"

"I do," she answered. "And I am prepared."

"You cannot be," Castiel said.

Dean was surprised Castiel was taking this approach when he wanted to open Heaven more than any of them.

Tessa gave Castiel a strange smile. "This is not what happened to you, Castiel. I am giving it up willingly. How can I refuse with everything I know? I have been living with the screams of the veil in my mind for months now. I have the power to help free those trapped souls. I am ready to be free of the mantle of reaper and live as a human."

"You will age and die," Castiel pointed out.

"Yes," she said simply. "Death is nothing to fear though, is it?"

Castiel considered her words carefully and then nodded. "No, there is nothing to fear."

Dean glanced at Sam and saw he had taken the same meaning from what Castiel was saying and it burned him the same way it did Dean.

"That's the scythe then," Charlie said, her voice sad. "What about the heaven bound soul?"

"I can help there, too," Tessa said. "There is a wealth of souls in the veil, all of them bound for Heaven. I am certain I can find one that is willing to be free."

"But they won't be free, will they?" Sam asked. "They will be wiped out?"

"Yes," Tessa said. "But oblivion would be better than what they are living as now."

Missouri nodded. "They're crying out, Sam, desperate for peace. We can give that to one of them, and through them, the others can have Heaven."

Sam looked sad but he didn't speak anymore.

"Okay then," Dean said. "We've got two of the three. We still need an angel's wings."

"I can…" Castiel started, but Dean spoke over him. "No. No way. You're already losing enough. I will not let you lose your wings, too."

"It would make sense to take mine, Dean, and you know it. I am already destined for an end."

"No!" Dean snapped, swiping his hand through the air. "I will not let you do it."

Castiel smiled slightly. "Very well, though I wasn't going to suggest my own this time anyway. I was thinking that I could use another's—Metatron's."

Dean grinned wickedly. "I think that's an awesome idea."

"Good," Castiel said. "I will need to go to Heaven again, of course, but it will not take long."

"I will take you to the portal," Tessa said, "and then I can retrieve the soul when we're back."

"Thank you," Castiel said. "I would appreciate that."

He and Tessa made for the door, and Sam called after them, "Cas, taking an angel's wings, that's going to hurt like hell for them, right?"

"Yes," Castiel said with satisfaction. "The longer it takes, the worse it will be."

"Good," Sam said brutally. "Take your time."

Dean was anxious for Castiel and Tessa's return. With so much riding on what they were doing, he wanted them together and ready. The feeling was compounded by the fact that they knew now whose soul was going to be used for the spell.

While they were gone, Missouri set herself up with the Ouija board and, with great strain, searched for a willing soul. She had barely asked before someone offered themselves up, and Dean realized when she said the name that he should have realized who it would be that came forward. Irv.

Missouri didn't need to explain his motivation; Dean knew already. He was trying to make amends for what happened with Abaddon. There was no need, as Dean had told him, but he was determined and immovable. Though it felt right that it was a hunter who made the sacrifice—that was what they did—Dean wished it hadn't needed to be his friend.

When there was a knock at the door, Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Sam went to answer it, and a moment later, Tessa and Castiel returned. In Castiel's hand was a glass jar with swirling, blue-white light inside. Dean didn't know what he had expected Metatron's wings to look like, perhaps as repulsive as the man himself, but they were beautiful. He couldn't take his eyes from them until Castiel set the jar down on the table and cleared his throat.

"I understand you have a willing soul," he said.

"Yeah," Sam said sadly. "Irv."

Castiel nodded. "He will be remembered for this."

Perhaps, Dean thought, but for how long? When Sam and Dean, Charlie and Kevin were gone, who would remember the name? Once it would have been Castiel that would remember, but he would be gone, too.

Dean cleared his throat roughly, and Sam raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. Dean nodded. He was okay.

"I will retrieve the soul," Tessa said. "And then we can take my scythe and perform the spell."

"Okay," Dean said, the gravity of the moment settling over him. This was one of the biggest things they'd ever done without killing, and it seemed to weigh on Dean's shoulders.

Tessa closed her eyes and bright light seemed to spill from her. Dean shielded his eyes and only uncovered them when he felt the heat die down.

Irv was standing next to Tessa. He looked pale, grayish, and tired, but he was there.

"Hey, Dean, Sam," he said.

"Irv," Sam said in a sad voice, and Dean nodded wordlessly. He had no idea what to say.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this?" Missouri asked him.

"Yes, Ma'am," Irv said. "I am more than ready for peace and I am doing something good with this.

"You're doing something incredible," Dean corrected. "And we appreciate it more than we can say."

Irv smiled. "Let's get to it then."

Missouri fixed her eyes on Tessa. "Are you positive you want to do this?"

"Yes," Tessa said. "I am ready for peace, too."

Missouri nodded. "Okay them."

"Castiel, if you would…" Tessa said,

Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial. It looked like it could hold a belt of whiskey and nothing more.

Castiel held it out to Sam and said, "Hold onto it for a moment." His blade slipped into his hand and he bought the tip to Tessa's right palm. With an apologetic glance, he made a small circular cut around the tattoo mark. Bright light spilled from the wound and Castiel caught it in the vial. Tessa began to crumple, and Dean rushed forward and caught her as she slumped toward the floor.

"Tessa!" he said harshly.

"She's okay," Missouri said, coming forward and stroking Tessa's hair. "She just needs a moment to rest. Perhaps in one of your rooms?"

Dean hefted her into his arms and carried her through to his own bedroom. He set her down carefully on his bed, adjusted her so she looked comfortable, and then left her to her rest, rushing back into the library, leery of missing anything.

Nothing had changed in the room other than the increased tension and a copper bowl and candles set on the table. As Dean entered, Castiel turned to Irv and said, "If you are ready?"

"I am," Irv said.

Sam lit the candles and stepped back as Castiel carried the vial and jar over to the table. He uncapped the vial and poured the contents into the bowl. They settled on the bottom, like bright white gas. Castiel murmured something in Enochian and then reached for the jar. He opened and tipped it over the bowl. The contents seemed reluctant to leave their jar this time. Castiel had to scoop them out with the tip of his angel blade. When they were all in the bowl, mixing with Tessa's scythe, Castiel addressed Irv. "Thank you for this, Irving. We owe you a great debt."

Irv grinned. "Shame I'll never be able to collect. Would have been good to get a favor from an angel."

"Be at peace," Castiel said, and then chanted something in Enochian.

Irv seemed to fade into smoke which siphoned itself into the bowl. The contents swirled and bubbled and Castiel drew a deep breath before raising his voice and calling out in Enochian. "Opan kahn has!"

Light poured from the bowl, overflowing like smoke and Castiel called out, "Close your eyes!"

Dean's arm came up to cover his eyes again and he winced as heat burned his skin. It seemed to last forever, before Castiel said, "You can look now."

Dean lowered his arm and looked at the now empty and charred bowl.

"Well?" Kevin said impatiently. "Did it work?"

Castiel and Missouri exchanged a satisfied look and Missouri nodded. "I can feel them passing on now."

"And I can feel the call of home," Castiel said, his voice exultant.

Kevin laughed and he and Charlie high-fived. "Go, Kevin!" Charlie cheered.

"Yes," Castiel said, turning to him. "Thank you, Kevin."

Kevin looked pleased but embarrassed.

"So, Cas," Charlie said. "You got the call of home. You going back?"

"No," Castiel said peacefully, "I am already home."

So… Heaven's open for business again. About time too, right? There's 3 chapters left now, so still some action to come.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx