Over a month later, the Winchesters were on a witch hunt days before Halloween. Things had been really tense the past couple weeks, because Dean had found out that Sam was not only using his freaky mind stuff after he had said he wasn't, but he was also working with Ruby while doing it. Castiel had sent him into the past while the angel took care of Mack where he had learned that Azazel, the yellow eyed demon, had fed Sam demon blood as a baby the night that Mary died. Even though Sam swore he was done, the atmosphere between him and Dean was still off.

The witch had already claimed two victims, but there was no apparent connection between the two. Both victims were extremely vanilla, leading ordinary, quiet lives, which frustrated Dean to no end.

"I'm telling you, both these vics are squeaky clean," he lamented to Sam back at the motel. "There is no reason for a wicked bitch payback."

"Maybe 'cause it's not about that," Sam suggested, studying from a large book. Dean glanced over at Mack, who was distracted playing in the corner, then back at Sam. When Sam didn't elaborate further, Dean rolled his eyes. "Wow. Insightful." Sam gave him a look, then continued. "Maybe this witch isn't working the grudge, maybe they're working a spell. Check this out." He stood up, walking over to Dean as he read from the book.

"Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest. Celtic calendar, the final day of the final harvest is October 31st." Dean took the book from Sam, studying it himself. "Halloween," he translated. "Exactly," Sam nodded. "What exactly are the, uh, blood sacrifices for?"

"Uh, if I'm right, the witch is summoning a demon, and not just any demon- Samhain." Sam waited for a reaction from Dean, but didn't get any. "Am I supposed to be impressed?" Dean asked him, blinking. "Dean, Samhain is the damn origin of Halloween. The Celts believe that October 31st was the one night of the year where the veil was the thinnest between the living and the dead, and it was Samhain's night. I mean, masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left on doorsteps to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. He was exorcized centuries ago."

"So, even though Samhain took a trip downstairs, the tradition stuck."

"Exactly, only now instead of demons and blood orgies, Halloween is all about the kids, candy and costumes." They both looked over at Mack again, who had never really gotten a traditional Halloween where she got to dress up and go trick-or-treating. She'd been really little when John had gone missing and they hadn't exactly taken the time to celebrate as she got older since they were dealing with the yellow eyed demon and then Dean's demon deal.

"Okay," Dean said, refocusing onto the task at hand, "so some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?" Sam wasn't amused. "Dean, this is serious."

"I am serious," he insisted. "We're talking heavyweight witchcraft," Sam continued, ignoring him. "This ritual can only be performed every six hundred years." Dean had a feeling he knew where this was going. "And the six hundred year marker rolls around...?"

"Tomorrow night," Sam confirmed his suspicions. "Naturally." He looked down at the book, which was open to a picture showing a demon on a heap of dead bodies holding a head in his hand. "Well, it sure is a lot of death and destruction for one demon." His brother nodded, explaining, "That's because he likes company. Once he's raised, Samhain can do some raising of his own."

"Raising what, exactly?"

"Dark, evil crap, and lots of it, I mean, they follow him around like the Pied Piper."

"So we're talking ghosts?"

"Yeah."

"Zombies."

"Mm-hm."

"Leprechauns?"

Sam gave him a hard look. "Dean-" He shrugged defensively. "Those dudes are scary. Small hands-" he put up his hands, bending his fingers to demonstrate and Sam rolled his eyes again. "Look, it just starts with ghosts and ghouls, this sucker keeps going, by night's end we are talking every awful thing we have ever seen. Everything we fight, all in one place." That really didn't sound good, and Dean grimaced. He looked at Mack again, wondering if he should have just left her back at Bobby's instead of insisting on taking her with them.

She'd been staying there for the past week and a half, and call him selfish, but he had wanted to spend time with his little girl. Especially at that time of year. Another reason why they didn't typically celebrate Halloween besides the fact that, like Sam had said earlier, every day felt like Halloween for them, was that it was a reminder of the anniversary coming up on November 2nd. Not only was it both Sam and Mack's half birthday, but it was the day that both Mary and Jess had died.

"It's gonna be a slaughterhouse," Dean stated, looking at the picture of the demon once more.

Mack sat at the table, drawing with her crayons again. Sam and Dean had gone to interview the art teacher at the local high school after finding out one of his students had a connection to both victims. Dean had made her promise not to leave the room for any reason, not wanting to take her and make up the excuse of 'take your daughter to work day' or some shit. As she drew, there was a rustling sound which made her look up.

"Cas!" she greeted the angel, grinning. Castiel smiled back at her warmly. "Hello, little one. Where are Sam and Dean?"

"They're asking questions about the witch," she replied, then seemed to notice the second person who'd appeared in the room with Castiel. She immediately became closed off, frightened of the other man. He was tall and dark skinned, with a stern face. He placed something on the bedside table and then moved over to stare out the window. Not liking him getting that close, Mack got up from the table and hurried over to hide by Castiel.

"Why didn't your father take you with him?" Castiel asked her, trying to distract her from the other angel. She looked up at him, her fists clutching at his trench coat. "He doesn't like me to hear sometimes," she answered quietly. He nodded, understanding she was talking about Sam and Dean interviewing the civilians to find out more information about their hunts. It made sense that Dean would want to shelter her from things as much as possible, though it was impossible for him to hide everything from her.

Sensing that she didn't want to talk any more whilst in the presence of Uriel, Castiel didn't ask her any more questions. They waited for another fifteen or so minutes, and then the tell-tale sound of the Impala pulling up sounded outside the door. Sam was the first to enter the room, immediately drawing his gun as he spotted the two angels. "Who are you?!" he shouted. Dean rushed in behind him, pushing his gun down as he tried to stop him.

"Sam! Sam, wait! It's Castiel." Sam stared at the angel in a trench coat, stunned as he lowered his weapon. "The angel," Dean added, then spotted the other angel standing at the window. "Him I don't know." Mack let go of Castiel's coat, rushing over to her father instead and clinging to his leg as she hid. He looked down at her in surprise, then put a hand against her head in a calming gesture. Sam was still staring at Castiel.

"Hello, Sam," Castiel greeted him. "Oh my God- er- uh- I didn't mean to- sorry," Sam stammered out. "It's an honor, really, I- I've heard a lot about you." He stepped forward, holding out a hand to shake Castiel's. Mack moved with Dean as he went to close the door to the room, and Castiel just looked at Sam's hand as if unsure what to do with it. Sam shook it a little, and understanding crossed the angel's features, putting his hand into Sam's. "And I, you. Sam Winchester-" Castiel stared him straight in the eye. "The boy with the demon blood."

Suddenly very uncomfortable, Sam retracted his hand and took a step back. Dean was eyeing the pair warily as Castiel continued. "Glad to see you've ceased your extracurricular activities."

"Let's keep it that way," the other angel said, still facing the window. His voice was deep- in a different way than Castiel's was- and rich sounding. Mack clung tighter to Dean's leg, and he realized she was scared of the mystery angel. "Yeah, okay, chuckles," he bit out sarcastically, looking to Castiel. "Who's your friend?"

"This, the raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?" Castiel asked, ignoring the question. "Why?" Dean asked suspiciously. "Dean, have you located the witch?"

"Yes, we've located the witch," Dean replied in the same tone as the angel. He was still curious who the other one was; mostly because he wanted to know who his daughter was so scared of. She had obviously taken a liking to Castiel almost immediately, so it was strange that she had pretty much the exact opposite reaction when faced with a different angel. "And is the witch dead?" Castiel pressed.

"No, but-" Sam began.

"We know who it is," Dean finished. Castiel crossed the room, picking up the object from the side table Uriel had set there- a hex bag. "Apparently the witch knows who you are, too," he showed them. "This was inside the wall of your room. If we hadn't found it, at least one, if not all of you would be dead. Do you know where the witch is now?" Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "We're working on it," Dean answered.

"That's unfortunate," Castiel frowned, setting the hex bag back down. "Why do you care?" Dean asked curiously. "The raising of Samhain is one of the sixty-six seals."

"So this is about your buddy Lucifer."

"Lucifer is no buddy of ours," Uriel spoke again, still not facing the group. Dean scowled in his direction. "It's just an expression."

"Lucifer cannot rise," Castiel stated the obvious. "The breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs."

"Okay, great, well, now that you're here, why don't you tell us where the witch is, we'll gank her, everybody goes home."

"We are not omniscient. The witch is very powerful, she's cloaked even to our methods." Sam decided to pipe up again in response, but was cut off by Uriel. "Okay, well, we already know who she is, so if we work together-"

"Enough of this."

Mack once again shrunk closer to Dean and he frowned, glaring at the angel. "Okay, who are you and why should I care?" Uriel turned from the window, glaring at Dean, and Mack let out a small whimper. "This is Uriel," Castiel told them, "he's what you might call a... specialist." As Uriel stepped forward, moving closer, Mack hid further behind Dean.

"What kind of specialist? What are you gonna do?" Dean looked from Uriel to Castiel, waiting for an explanation. "You- uh, all of you- you need to leave this town immediately," Castiel responded. "Why?" Dean raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Because we're about to destroy it." Sam and Dean looked at each other, worried. "So, this is your plan, you're gonna smite the whole friggin' town?"

"We're out of time," Castiel said. "This witch has to die, the seal must be saved."

"There are a thousand people here," Sam protested. Uriel smirked. "One thousand two hundred and fourteen." Sam gaped, flabbergasted. "And you're willing to kill them all?"

"This isn't the first time I've... purified a city."

"Look, I understand this is regrettable," Castiel cut in. "Regrettable?" Dean echoed, staring at him in shock. "We have to hold the line. Too many seals have broken already."

"So, you screw the pooch on some seals and this town has to pay the price?" Sam and Dean couldn't believe what they were hearing. This town was full of hundreds of innocent people- men, women, children- and the angels were ready to kill them all just to get rid of one measly witch. "It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion. There's a bigger picture here." Dean scowled, the words reminding him of the conversation they'd had in Bobby's kitchen after the raising of the witnesses. "Right, 'cause you're bigger picture kind of guys."

"Lucifer cannot rise," Castiel repeated. "He does and Hell rises with him. Is that something you're willing to risk?" Dean looked away guiltily, thinking once again of the memories of Hell that plagued him. He still hadn't told Sam he remembered. "We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone," Sam tried reasoning. "Your seal won't be broken and no one has to die." Uriel looked at Castiel, ignoring them. "We're wasting time with these mud monkeys."

Castiel turned away from Dean to Uriel. "I'm sorry, but we have our orders." Dean was livid, but before he could say anything, Sam voiced his opinion first. "No, you can't do this, you're angels, I mean aren't you supposed to- You're supposed to show mercy."

"Says who?" Uriel challenged. "We have no choice," Castiel added. That comment set Dean off. "Of course you have a choice! I mean, come on, what? You've never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, just a couple of hammers?" Both angels were glaring at him, Castiel just a little less harshly than Uriel, the former trying to defend their decision. "Look, even if you can't understand it, have faith. The plan is just."

"How can you even say that?" Sam asked, his voice threatening to break. Castiel looked at him. "Because it comes from Heaven, that makes it just." Dean scowled, not buying that line for a second. "Oh, it must be nice, being so sure of yourselves." Once again, those freaking blue eyes were fixed on him. "Tell me something, Dean, when your father gave you an order, didn't you obey?"

That felt like a low blow, but he refused to let either angel see how it got under his skin. Instead, he held Castiel's gaze. "Well, sorry boys, looks like the plans have changed."

"You think you can stop us?"

Dean stepped forward, getting in Uriel's face. As he did, Mack abandoned him to go hide behind Sam instead. "No, but if you're gonna smite this whole town, then you're gonna have to smite us with it, because we're not leaving. See, you went to the trouble of busting me out of Hell. I figure I'm worth something to the man upstairs. So you wanna waste me, go ahead, see how he digs that." Uriel glared right back at him, refusing to back down either. "I will drag you out of here myself."

"Yeah, but you'll have to kill me, then we're back to the same problem. I mean, come on, you're gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch. Sounds to me like you're compensating for something." Dean turned away from Uriel, looking back at Castiel. "We can do this. We will find that witch and stop the summoning."

"Castiel!" Uriel protested. "I will not let these peop-" Castiel held up a hand, cutting Uriel off. "Enough! I suggest you move quickly." Dean nodded, pushing past Castiel to head toward the door, but the angel spoke up again. "We should take Mckinley while you take care of the witch." Mack clearly didn't like that idea, speaking up. "No! I wanna stay with Daddy!" Both Sam and Dean looked at her in shock. Castiel also looked at her, and then glanced at Uriel, the obvious reason behind why she refused to let them take her away.

"She'll be fine with us, Cas," Dean assured him. "Sammy, let's go." They headed out of the motel room, Mack clinging to his hand tightly until they were no longer in the angels' presence. Sam was solemn, holding the hex bag Castiel and Uriel had found in their room in his hands, as they piled into the Impala. "What?" Dean asked him. "Nothing." Sam took a deep breath. "I thought they'd be different."

"Who, the angels?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I tried to tell ya."

"I just..." Sam trailed off, brow furrowed in thought. "I mean, I thought they'd be righteous." Dean sighed, looking over at him. "Well, they are righteous, I mean, that's kinda the problem. Of course there's nothing more dangerous than some a-hole who thinks he's on a holy mission." Sam took another deep breath, looking like he was going to start crying. "But, I mean, this is God? And Heaven? This is what I've been praying to?"/

"Look, man, I know you're into the whole God thing, you know, Jesus on a tortilla and stuff like that. But just because there's a couple of bad apples doesn't mean the whole barrel's rotten. I mean, for all we know, God hates these jerks. Don't give up on the stuff, is all I'm saying. Babe Ruth was a dick, but baseball's still a beautiful game."

When Sam didn't respond right away, Dean looked back at Mack. "Hey, bug, why didn't you want to go with Cas? I thought you liked him." Mack swallowed, looking back at him. "I didn't want to be around the scary angel," she whispered. Dean's heart soared and sank at the same time, upset that Uriel had frightened her so badly but happy that she was starting to talk a little bit more. It seemed he was right about figuring having Castiel around would speed up the process of her returning to her old self.

Sam had opened the hex bag and was studying the charred bone from inside. "Well, are you gonna figure out a way to find this witch, or are you just gonna sit there fingering your bone?" Dean started the car. "You know how much heat it would take to char a bone like this, Dean?"

"No."

"A lot, I mean, more than a fire or some kitchen oven." Dean looked over at him questioningly. "Okay, Betty Crocker, what does that mean?"

"It means we make a stop."

The art teacher they'd interviewed had an entire drawer in his desk filled with un-charred bones like the ones in the hex bags. So, with a new suspect in mind, they hurried off to Tracy's apartment building. They arrived in the basement just as Don was about to stab Tracy, shooting him three times in the back to kill him. Mack hung back while Sam checked the body and Dean freed Tracy.

"Thank you, he was gonna kill me! Ugh, that sick son of a bitch. I mean, did you see what he was doing? Did you hear him? How sloppy his incantation was?" Sam and Dean both froze in terror, realizing they'd made a grave error. There were two witches- Tracy and Don. "My brother-" Tracy said as they scrambled for their guns again. "Always a little dim."

Tracy threw her hand up, yelling an incantation and Sam and Dean flew back, hitting the ground and writhing in pain. The witch hadn't seen Mack, who was hiding in a dark corner by the stairs. "He was gonna make me the final sacrifice," Tracy continued explaining, "his idea, but now, that honor goes to him. Our master's return? The spellwork's a two man job you understand, so for six hundred years I had to deal with that pompous son of a bitch. Planning, preparing, unbearable."

She knelt down next to Don's body, picking up the knife and chalice. "The whole time I wanted to rip his face off." She used the knife to dig into one of Don's bullet wounds, using the chalice to catch the blood flow. She looked back at Sam and Dean, who were still writhing on the floor in pain, clutching their stomachs. "And you get him with a gun, uh, love that."

Tracy stood, heading over to the altar on the table. "You know, back in the day, this was the one day you kept your children inside. Well, tonight you'll all see what Halloween really is." As Tracy began the incantation, Sam made his way over to Don's body while still clutching his stomach. He smeared some of Don's blood on his face, Dean watching him. "What are you doing?" the elder Winchester whispered. "Just follow my lead," he whispered back.

He smeared more blood on Dean's face as well, and then they both laid perfectly still. Tracy had finished the incantation, and the ground cracked, black smoke pouring out of it and into Don's body. Samhain rose from the floor, looking at Tracy's back that was turned to him. He walked to her and she turned around, smiling at him, as they kissed.

"My love," Tracy said.

"You've aged," Samhain replied.

Tracy's face fell. "This face... I can't fool you."

"Your beauty is beyond time," Samhain told her, then snapped her neck, letting her lifeless body fall to the floor. "Whore." He turned, staring through blurry vision at Sam and Dean on the floor. They were still laying perfectly still, eyes closed. After a moment, Samhain walked past them, paying them no mind as he left the basement. Dean opened his eyes, leaning over to Sam and whispering so Samhain wouldn't hear. "What the hell was that?"

"Halloween lore. People used to wear masks to hide from him, so I gave it a shot." Dean stared at his brother, mortified. "You gave it a shot?!" Then he seemed to remember Mack, and looked around frantically. "Mack? You there, bug?" She crept out of the shadows, going over to him. "Here, Daddy." He visibly relaxed, hugging her briefly. "Come on. We gotta get out of here."

They headed out to the Impala, Sam and Dean wiping the blood off their faces as they went. "Where the hell are we gonna find this mook?" Dean asked. "Where would you go to raise other dark forces of the night?" Sam shot back. "The cemetery."

"Yeah." When they got to the cemetery, Dean instructed Mack to stay in the car, and then he and Sam ran to a mausoleum in the center of the cemetery where a bunch of teenagers had been having a Halloween party. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they spotted the teens locked in a room with a bunch of zombies. Sam looked at the Dean and then the people locked in the room.

"Help them," he instructed, already moving down the hall. "Dude, you're not going off alone," Dean tried arguing. "Do it!" Sam yelled over his shoulder, disappearing from view. Dean watched him go for a minute, then turned to focus on the kids. "Stand back! Stand back!" The teens backed away from the gate and Dean shot the lock, kicking the door to let them all out. "Go on, come on, get out, move!"

All the teens rushed past him out of the mausoleum, and then he peered into the grave. One of the doors crashed to the ground and broke, a zombie crawling out and standing as another grave door also crashed to the ground. Dean held up a silver stake, staring down the two zombies. "Bring it on, stinky," he said. He managed to get the two zombies stabbed through the chest with silver stakes, but then a third monster appeared, this time a ghost.

"Zombie ghost orgy, huh?" Dean grumbled. "Well, that's it, I'm torching everybody." Meanwhile, down the hall, Sam managed to get Ruby's demon knife out and tried to stab Samhain. When it cut the demon, it sizzled and Samhain pushed it out of Sam's hand and whipped him around, then threw him into the wall across the room. As the demon began to attack once more, Sam raised a hand, using his psychic abilities to hold him in place. While Samhain struggled against Sam, he managed to keep the demon from getting too far.

Dean rushed around the corner, ready to help, but froze when he saw Sam using his powers after promising not to. Sam spotted him over Samhain's shoulder, but continued anyway. Using way more concentration than he had in the past, it took a toll on him and his nose started to bleed. With his free hand, he clutched at his head as it started to pound. Finally, he managed to exorcise the demon, but couldn't meet Dean's eyes. Dean just stood there, staring with a mixture of sadness and fear.

Dean and Mack sat together on a bench at a park, watching the other kids play in a recreation of the day Castiel had taken her away to stay safely away from the raising of the witnesses. After seeing Sam use his abilities again, Dean had needed to clear his head, and he didn't want to leave Mack behind with his brother. As they sat in silence, there was a tell-tale rustle and Castiel appeared on the adjacent bench.

"Let me guess," Dean said without looking over, "you're here for the 'I told you so'."

"No," Castiel replied. Dean glanced over at him, then looked down at Mack. "Why don't you go play for a little bit, bug." She opened her mouth as if she was going to protest, but then she looked over at Castiel and seemed to understand that her father and the angel had things to talk about she shouldn't hear. So she got off the bench, walking off in the direction of the playground. "Well, good, 'cause I'm really not that interested," Dean told the angel once his daughter was out of earshot.

"I'm not here to judge you, Dean," Castiel informed him. "Then why are you here?" Blue eyes met hazel-green and held for a moment. "Our orders-" the angel began to explain before getting cut off. "Yeah, you know, I've about had enough of these orders of your-"

"Our orders were not to stop the summoning of Samhain, they were to do whatever you told us to do." That stunned Dean. "Your orders were to follow my orders?" Castiel nodded, looking over at Mack. Instead of playing with the other children, she had found a different unoccupied bench on the opposite side of the park and was sitting there alone, swinging her legs and looking at the ground. "It was a test, to see how well you would perform under... battlefield conditions, you might say."

"It was a witch, not the Tet Offensive," Dean scoffed, also noticing how Mack was sitting by herself instead of playing. "So, I, uh, failed your test, huh? I get it. But you know what? If you would have waved that magic time-traveling wand of yours and we had to do it all over again, I'd make the same call. 'Cause see, I don't know what's gonna happen when these seals are broken, hell I don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow. But what I do know is, that this, here? These kids, the swings, the trees, all of it is still here because of my brother and me."

"You misunderstand me, Dean, I'm not like you think. I was praying you would choose to save the town." Again, Dean was caught off guard by the angel. Just when he thought he was starting to figure Castiel out, the angel would do or say something that painted a totally different picture. "You were?"

"These people, they're all my father's creations. They're works of art, and yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken and we are one step closer to Hell on Earth, for all creation. Now, that's not an expression, Dean, it's literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means." Dean gave him a sad, pained expression. "Can I ask you something?" Dean swallowed, hesitating slightly. Castiel nodded, waiting expectantly. "Why has Mack only started talking around you?"

"I'm not certain. She did express to me a fear of losing you again, which may play into it. She is a strong girl, Dean. I'm sure she will start opening up around more people in time." They both sat silently for a moment, Dean processing Castiel's answer. "Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?"

"Okay," Dean nodded, looking back over at him. "I'm not a... hammer, as you say. I have questions, I have doubts. I don't know what is right and wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make. I don't envy the weight that's on your shoulders, Dean. I truly don't."

With that, Castiel disappeared from the park bench.