There were several hunts following Dean's confession to Sam. Among others, some highlights included a ghost which turned out to be two human kids in the walls of a house, an old magician who was using real magic to stay young, an actual ghost that haunted one of Sam and Dean's old schools from childhood, a siren, and the latest- stopping Alastair from killing two reapers, which prevented one of the seals from breaking. During that one, Pamela ended up getting killed by a couple of demons. After giving her a hunter's funeral, they headed to a motel in Cheyenne.

"Ruby will meet us outside of Cheyenne," Sam explained as he drove. "She's been tracking some leads. I know she's not exactly on your Christmas list, but if she can help us get to Lilith-"

"Hey, man, work with Ruby, don't. I don't really give a rat's ass." Sam gave his older brother a look, surprised. "What's your problem?" he asked. "Pamela didn't want anything to do with this, and we dragged her back into it, Sam."

"She knew what was at stake."

"Oh yeah. Saving the world," Dean grumbled. "And we're doing such a damn good job of it."

"Dean-"

"I'm tired of burying friends, Sam." The statement should have had some fire and passion behind it, but it came out cold and empty. It was clear Dean was really upset about everything that was going on lately. Not knowing what to say to make him feel better, Sam spoke to the meetup with Ruby. "Look, we catch a fresh trail-"

"And we follow it, I know," Dean still sounded empty. "Like I said, I'm just- I'm just getting tired."

"Well, get angry."

Dean looked like he wanted to listen to Sam and do just that, but couldn't find it in himself to care. They pulled into the motel parking lot, and climbed out. Dean took the time to gather Mack's sleeping form into his arms before leading the way to their room. "Ah, home crappy home," he muttered as they entered. When Sam flipped on the lights, they found Cas and Uriel already standing in the middle of the room. "Winchester and Winchester," Uriel greeted.

"Oh, come on," Dean groaned, Mack whimpering and fussing in his arms slightly. He quickly soothed her back down as Uriel continued. "You are needed."

"Needed? We just got back from needed."

"Now, you mind your tone with me," the angel threatened. "No, you mind your damn tone with us," Dean hissed, trying to keep his voice down given that he had a sleeping child in his arms. "We just got back from Pamela's funeral," Sam added, and Dean continued on angrily. "Pamela. You know, psychic Pamela? You remember her. Cas, you remember her. You burned her eyes out. Remember that? Good times. Yeah, then she died saving one of your precious seals. So maybe you can stop pushing us around like chess pieces for five freaking minutes!"

His voice rose steadily as he got more and more worked up, and forgetting why he was trying to remain quiet temporarily, he yelled the last three words louder than he intended to. Mack whimpered and groaned in her sleep once more, eyes fluttering between open and shut like she couldn't decide if she wanted to be awake or asleep.

"We raised you out of Hell for our purposes," Uriel reminded him, but only earned another snarky response. "Yeah, what were those again? What exactly did you want from me?" Uriel glared. "Start with gratitude." Dean rolled his eyes, giving a sarcastic, "Oh." Castiel decided to take the moment to speak for the first time. "Dean, we know this is difficult to understand."

"And we-" Uriel fixed Cas with a significant look, "-don't care. Now, seven angels have been murdered, all of them from our garrison. The last one was killed tonight." That caught Dean's attention, just briefly. "Demons? How are they doing it?" Uriel shook his head. "We don't know."

"I'm sorry," Sam said, "but what do you want us to do about it? I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?" That earned him a murderous look from Uriel. "We can handle the demons, thank you very much."

"Once we find whoever it is," Cas added.

"So, you need help hunting a demon?" Dean translated, drawing both angels' focus back on him. "Not quite," Castiel corrected. "We have Alastair." It wasn't lost on Dean how Uriel was doing most of the talking, where Cas used to appear to be the superior before. He wondered what had changed. "Great," he nodded. "He should be able to name your trigger man."

"But he won't talk. Alastair's will is very strong. We've arrived at an impasse." Dean scoffed. "Yeah, well, he's like a black belt in torture. I mean, you guys are out of your league." When Mack started to stir in his arms again, he once again checked himself, rubbing her back to keep her sated. "That's why we've come to his student," Uriel stated, making Dean's heart drop. "You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got."

Dean suddenly became very interested in the child in his arms, turning and pressing his lips to her head with closed eyes. He could feel Sam's curious gaze burning a hole in the side of his head, even as Cas's voice met his ears. "Dean, you are our best hope." He opened his eyes, searching Castiel's cobalt depths imploringly. "No. No way. You can't ask me to do this, Cas. Not this." Uriel stepped forward. "Who said anything about asking?" He touched Dean, and suddenly Sam was standing by himself in the motel room.

"Damn it!"

Alastair could be seen through a window in a door, chained to a hexacle standing in the middle of a devil's trap. "The devil's trap is old Enochian," Cas explained. "He's bound completely." Dean, still holding Mack since he hadn't had time to put her down before the angels whisked him away, couldn't find it in himself to care. "Fascinating. Where's the door?" He turned, walking away from the room Alastair was in. "Where are you going?" Cas asked.

"Hitch back to Cheyenne, thank you very much." He made it past Uriel, and then stopped short as the angel reappeared in front of him, blocking his path. "Angels are dying, boy." Dean just glared. "Everybody's dying these days. And hey, I get it. You're all-powerful. You can make me do whatever you want. But you can't make me do this."

"This is too much to ask, I know," Cas implored. "But we have to ask it." Dean stared at Cas, green studying blue and then he looked back at Uriel. "I want to talk to Cas alone."

"I think I'll go seek revelation. We might have some further orders."

"Well get some donuts while you're out."

Uriel actually laughed at Dean's joke, smiling as he pointed a finger at him. "Ah this one just won't quit, will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy." With that, he disappeared with the familiar rustling sound. Dean stared at the spot he had been in for a moment. "You guys don't walk enough. You're gonna get flabby." Unlike with the other angel, Cas didn't laugh at the comment, and Dean turned to face him. "You know I'm starting to think junkless has a better sense of humor than you do."

"Uriel's the funniest angel in the garrison. Ask anyone," Cas informed him seriously. Unsure how to respond to that, Dean decided to question the sudden change in authority. "What's going on, Cas? Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?" Cas swallowed, remaining solemn. "My superiors have begun to question my sympathies." Dean blinked. "Your sympathies?"

"I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You and Mckinley. They feel I have begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgment." Uriel's words to him in his dream came back to him: "He has this weakness. He likes you." It seemed impossible that Dean could possibly be significant enough to change an angel. To override the coding that made them unfeeling, unthinking warriors, and instead begin to act even a tiny bit human. And yet, that seemed to be exactly what Cas was saying.

"Well, you tell Uriel, or whoever... you do not want me doing this, trust me."

"Want it, no. But I have been told we need it." It was unthinkable that he would even consider listening to this. He had pushed this part of himself away for months now, trying to convince himself that if it stayed in the past, he wouldn't have to worry about it. He would never use those skills again. To make matters worse, he had Mack with him this time. He didn't want to risk her waking up and seeing that side of him. "You ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out," he warned Cas. Sympathy shone in Castiel's eyes, one of the tell-tale signs that, yes, he was indeed beginning to express emotion. "For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this. Especially with her here."

So, Cas shared his same reservations about him torturing again with his daughter in the next room. That was good to know. Closing his eyes, he let out a slow breath, and then opened them again. "I'll need supplies."

"You'll be provided anything you ask for," Cas nodded. "And you need to keep her away from that door. I don't want her peeking in and seeing me do this." Cas nodded once more. "Of course, Dean. I'll watch over her." In a display of trust he normally only offered Sam and Bobby, he handed his child over to the angel. Mack once again started to stir during the transfer, but relaxed and settled in once she was in Cas's arms. Her hands fisted his trench coat reflexively- her rabbit had been left behind in the Impala in Cheyenne- and she burrowed her face into his neck the way she did with Dean, and it made the father's chest tighten.

Five minutes later, he wheeled a loaded cart covered with a cloth into the room where Alastair was imprisoned. The demon watched him as he entered, grinning and beginning to sing and move in his chains in an almost dance-like fashion. "Heaven, I'm in Heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak. I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek..." Ignoring him, Dean pulled the cloth off the cart, revealing the array of torture implements he'd requested from Cas. Alastair laughed, then got serious as he continued to be ignored.

"I'm sorry. This is a very serious, very emotional situation for you. I shouldn't laugh, it's just that- I mean, are they serious? They sent you to torture me?" Dean turned, fixing Alastair with a hard stare, trying to remain totally emotionally unattached to the situation and failing slightly. "You got one chance. One. Tell me who's killing the angels. I want a name." Alastair smirked back at him cockily. "You think I'll see all your scary toys and spill my guts?"

"Oh, you'll spill your guts, one way or another. I just didn't want to ruin my shoes."

"Oh, yeah," the demon mused, staring down at Dean's feet with a little frown. "Now answer the question," Dean growled. Alastair met his gaze once more, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Or what? You'll work me over? But then, maybe you don't want to. Maybe you're, ah, scared to. Tell me, does little baby Winchester know what her Daddy is in here doing right now?" Dean set his jaw at the mention of Mack. "Don't you bring her into this. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Not entirely," the demon smirked. "You left part of yourself back in the pit. Let's see if we can get the two of you back together again, shall we?" Dean turned on his heel, walking back over to the cart. "You're gonna be disappointed," he replied. "You have not disappointed me so far. Come on. You gotta want a little payback for everything I did to you. For all the pokes and prods. Hm?" When Dean remained impassive, focusing on the items on the cart, Alastair tried a different approach. "No? Um... how about for all the things I did to your daddy?" That got Dean to look up.

Outside the room, Mack had woken up in Cas's arms. "Cas? Where's Daddy?" she asked, rubbing one of her eyes sleepily. "Your father is busy at the moment, bee." Cas didn't know where the nickname had come from, or why it just popped out, but he liked it. Bees had always been his favorite insect of all the animals his father created, and Dean did call Mack bug. Either way, Mack didn't seem to have any problems with him calling her that. "But where is he?" the young girl pressed.

Before he could come up with a response, she seemed to realize her rabbit was missing. "Where's Skittles?" Grateful to have something to do that he could help her with, he set her down gently. "Stay here. I'll get her for you." He vanished briefly, returning with the stuffed animal in hand moments later. Mack reached out, taking the bunny from him and hugging it tightly. Suddenly, a scream rang out, carrying through the closed door containing Dean and Alastair. Thankfully, Mack didn't notice or hear it. Cas had had the forethought to alter her hearing so she wouldn't be able to hear what was going on in that room.

"Oh, man. Ooh," Alastair gasped as Dean backed off finally. He had injected several needles of holy water into the demon's blood stream after Alastair had taunted him with the things he'd done to John before Dean had shown up in Hell. He threw the needle down beside the rest of the tools. "Let me know if you want some more," he said. "There's plenty left."

"Go directly to Hell. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars," Alastair quipped. Dean smiled, picking up Ruby's knife. The demon looked at it and laughed. "There's that little pig-poker. I wondered where it went." Dipping a ladle into a bowl of holy water, Dean poured it over the blade. "Do you really think this is gonna fix you? Give you closure? That is sad. Sad, sad." Dean didn't respond, walking over with the knife and watching Alastair for a moment before stabbing him. There was a sizzling sound and Alastair winced.

"I carved you into a new animal, Dean. There is no going back."

"Maybe you're right. But now, it's my turn to carve."

"No!"

Castiel watched Mack playing on the floor with Skittles as he listened to Alastair's groans. Overhead, the lights flickered, drawing both his and Mack's attention and the bulb exploded. Anna appeared behind Castiel. "Anna," he greeted without turning. "Hello, Castiel." When he looked at her, he was surprised to see her still in the body she had had while she was human. "Your human body-"

"It was destroyed, I know. But I guess I'm sentimental. Called in some old favors, and..." Alastair became slightly more audible through the door, but only to the two angels. Mack still had no clue what was happening. "You shouldn't be here," Cas told her. "We still have orders to kill you."

"Somehow, I don't think you'll try. Where's Uriel?"

"He went to receive revelation."

"Right. Why are you letting Dean do this?" That got Mack's attention, unfortunately. "Do what?" she asked curiously, looking from Anna over to Cas. "What's Daddy doing?" Cas didn't answer, meeting Anna's cold stare. "She doesn't know?" Castiel shook his head. "I masked the sounds in that room from her. She wasn't supposed to find out."

"What's Daddy doing, Cas?" Mack pressed, not liking how he was ignoring her. He set his jaw, conflicted between telling her the truth or lying for her benefit. Anna was looking at him expectantly, waiting to see what his response was. "He's doing God's work," he responded vaguely, satisfied that the answer didn't give away what was really going on. Anna, however, didn't seem to care about sugarcoating it in front of the child. "Torturing?" she scoffed. "That's God's work? Stop him, Cas, please. Before you ruin the one real weapon you have."

"What?" Mack asked, but was ignored again by both angels. "Who are we to question the will of God?" Cas queried. "Unless this isn't his will," Anna suggested. "Then where do the orders come from?" he challenged. "I don't know. One of our superiors, maybe, but not him. The father you love. You think he wants this? You think he'd ask this of you? You think this is righteous?" Castiel looked down, unable to meet her eyes. "What you're feeling? It's called doubt."

Unnoticed by either of them, Mack had set her sights on the door of the room containing her father and the demon he was torturing and was making her way silently over to it. Anna stepped forward, touching Castiel's hand. "These orders are wrong and you know it. But you can do the right thing. You're afraid, Cas. I was, too. But together, we can still-"

"Together?" Cas cut her off, pulling his hand away. "I'm nothing like you. You fell. Go."

"Cas."

"Go."

Anna vanished, and Castiel stared at the spot she had just been while listening to Alastair scream. Unbeknownst to him, over at the door, Mack had found a way to climb up and look through the window into the room at what was going on. Alastair had spotted her watching, but didn't say anything about it to Dean as he spat out blood and holy water. "You're just not getting deep enough," he taunted the girl's father. "Well, you lack the resources. Reality is just, I don't know, too concrete up here. Honestly Dean..."

Dean was pouring salt into another container, back to both Alastair and the window where his daughter was watching. "You have no idea how bad it really was, and what you really did for us," Alastair continued. "Shut up," Dean whispered. "The whole bloody thing, Dean. The reason Lilith wanted you there in the first place." Dean turned, too focused on the demon to notice the face in the window. "Well, then I'll just make you shut up."

Crossing over, he grabbed Alastair's chin with his free hand. "Lilith really-" The demon was cut off in an almost-scream as Dean poured salt in his mouth. When his chin was released, he spit out more blood and tried to breathe. "Something caught in my throat. I think it's my throat."

"Well, strap in, 'cause I'm just starting to have fun." Once again, Dean went back to the cart. "You know, it was supposed to be your father," Alastair mused as his torturer poured out more holy water. "He was supposed to bring it on. But, in the end, it was you."

"Bring what on?"

"Oh, every night, the same offer, remember? Same as your father." Dean shook some salt onto the blade of the demon knife. "And finally you said, 'sign me up.' Oh, the first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch..." Dean turned to face the demon. "That was the first seal." There was no visible reaction from Dean as he made his way back to Alastair. "You're lying," he said, voice completely calm. "And it is written, that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break."

Mack yelled out as Cas pulled her away from the door before she could see anything else. "No! No! Daddy! Stop! You have to stop!" Cas couldn't hear anything from the other side, Alastair's screams having died down in the last few minutes. "Mckinley, you have to calm down," he told her. "No! He can't do this! He has to stop!"

"Mckinley, relax," he ordered again, but the child wouldn't listen. Placing two fingers to her forehead, he held her as she fell limp and silent. He laid her down on the floor with her rabbit, and then looked at the door in alarm. "No!" He hurried over, opening the door and hurrying inside. Dean was being held against the hexacle by Alastair, beaten and bloody, feet dangling just off the ground. "You got a lot to learn, boy. So I'll be seeing you back in class bright and early Monday morning."

The demon turned, finding Cas standing right behind him with Ruby's knife in hand. Alastair dropped Dean, who crumpled to the floor and didn't move, to focus on the angel who stabbed him in the shoulder with the blade. The injury sparked with gold light, but it wasn't as much as when it killed. "Well, almost," Alastair smirked, looking down at it. "Looks like God is on my side today." Castiel lifted a hand, twisting the knife in Alastair's shoulder without touching it, and the demon grunted in pain. He pulled the knife out and tossed it away before charging at Castiel.

As they fought, he slammed Cas against the wall, choking him. "Well, like roaches, you celestials. Now, I really wish I knew how to kill you. But all I can do is send you back to Heaven." Alastair began the Latin chant he had used to try and exorcise Castiel before in the barn with Anna. Blue light appeared in Cas's eyes and mouth. But then the demon stopped abruptly, choking, and was slammed against the wall. Sam stood in the open doorway, one hand raised. Cas slumped to the ground like Dean.

"Stupid pet tricks," Alastair spat, held against the wall by Sam's powers. "Who's murdering the angels? How are they doing it?" Sam demanded. "You think I'm gonna tell you?" Sam smirked. "Yeah, I do." He twisted his hand and Alastair's eyes rolled white as he choked. "How are the demons killing angels?"

"I don't know."

"Right," Sam responded, not believing it for a second. "It's not us. We're not doing it," Alastair insisted. "I don't believe you." He twisted his hand further, causing the demon to choke harder. "Lilith is not behind this. She wouldn't kill seven angels. Oh, she would kill a hundred, a thousand." Sam stopped, and Alastair's eyes returned to normal. The demon smirked back at him. "Oh, go ahead. Send me back, if you can." It was Sam's turn to smirk. "I'm stronger than that now. Now I can kill."

Alastair's face contorted in horror as Sam raised his hand once more. Gold light flared inside the demon as he screamed. The host body collapsed a moment later, dead.

Dean laid in bed, heavily bandaged with a breathing tube and an IV drip. Mack had climbed up into the bed with him, curling up into his side. She had dried tear tracks on her face and seemed to be fighting to stay awake. Beside the bed, Sam sat in one of the chairs, not having the heart to pull Mack away from her father. Castiel appeared in the doorway, pausing briefly, before continuing down the hall. Sam stood, following him out of the room.

"Sam-" Cas began, facing him. "Get in there and heal him," Sam growled. "Miracle. Now." Cas shook his head sadly. "I can't."

"You and Uriel put him in there-"

"No."

"-because you can't keep a simple devil's trap together."

"I don't know what happened," Cas admitted truthfully. "That trap... it shouldn't have broken. I am sorry." Sam glared, unbelievably frustrated with the whole situation and the angel in front of him. "This whole thing was pointless. You understand that? The demons aren't doing this. Something else is killing your soldiers."

"Perhaps Alastair was lying."

"No, he wasn't." Sam turned on his heel, heading back into Dean's room and leaving Cas standing there looking like he had just been slugged in the face. When he got inside the room, his shoulders relaxed as he looked at his brother and niece in the bed. Mack had lost her fight with consciousness, it seemed. Realizing neither he nor she had eaten in a while, he reluctantly went over to wake her up.

"Kinley?" he whispered, rubbing a hand up and down her back. "Kinley, wake up." Mack groaned, blinking sleepily up at him. "Come on, Kinley. We're going to go find you some food."

"But I wanna be here when Daddy wakes up," she protested. "We'll come right back, I promise. Daddy will still be here after we get something to eat." Mack nodded in acceptance and allowed him to scoop her into his arms. They headed out to the Impala, driving to a nearby restaurant. While Sam ate his salad, he studied Mack as she stabbed at her macaroni and cheese without eating it. "What's wrong, Kinley?" Big green eyes exactly like his brother's looked up at him.

"Why did Cas make Daddy hurt that demon?" Sam swallowed, considering his words carefully. "Cas thought that demon had some important information, and that Daddy had to hurt him to get him to tell us what it was." Mack nodded, accepting the answer. "Why did he make so I couldn't hear it?" That surprised Sam. He had wondered how the angels had handled having Mack there while Dean tortured Alastair in the next room over. "You know how Daddy doesn't like you around when we kill monsters?"

She nodded seriously, hanging on to his every word. "It's just like that," he explained. "He was just trying to keep you safe." Mack was silent, going back to shoving mac and cheese around her plate. "Uncle Sammy?"

"What is it, Kinley?"

"What if Daddy doesn't wake up?" she stared at him again, tears welling up in her eyes. Sam's heart broke seeing her that way. He knew that Mack had developed a very real fear of losing Dean again after he went to Hell back in May. Even though Dean tried to shelter her from the more bloody, gruesome parts of the job, she still knew way more than any child should know at her age. When he and Dean were that young, John had been taking them out on training runs and teaching them how to shoot a gun.

Dean had sworn he would never do that to his daughter. It was impossible to hide everything from her, because of how they lived, but he could at least treat her like the child she was instead of like a soldier he had to teach how to fight. Sam was actually really impressed with how well his brother had done raising her so far.

"He'll wake up, Kinley. Dean's strong. It'll be okay."