Sam leaned over the sink and spat out the foaming toothpaste, glancing down and to the left as Liam did the same. He turned on the water and let it run, sticking his toothbrush under the flow and cleaning the bristles.

"So," Sam started, watching Liam stick his toothbrush back into his mouth. "Are you excited to go shooting tomorrow?"

Liam nodded, anticipation shining in his bright blue eyes as he continued to brush his teeth.

Sam took a breath and tucked his toothbrush into his bag, which was sitting on the closed toilet lid. "Can I ask you a question, Liam?" He quickly held out his hands in a placating gesture. "It's not bad. I'm not upset or anything, I'm just curious about something."

Liam spat toothpaste into the sink and then stuck his toothbrush under the stream of water, running his thumb over the bristles. "Um, yeah," he said, seeming a little uncertain. "You can ask me a question."

Sam crouched down then, waiting until Liam looked at him to speak. "You've talked about one day becoming a hunter before, and when you did, you didn't seem scared. But when you asked Dean and me if you could learn to shoot, you seemed afraid of how we would react." Sam wet his lips, leaning a little closer and peering into Liam's eyes. "Did Dean or I do something to make you afraid?"

Liam didn't say anything right away, his eyes dropping down to his feet. He shifted in place, looked at Sam, and then looked down at the floor again. "I…" He took a breath. "Sometimes, when I would ask my mom for something, she would say yes, but then…" He took another breath, visibly nervous. "But then, the next time I asked for the same thing, or if I reminded her about it, she would get mad. So… I don't know. I…" His shoulders slouched, an expression of defeat crossing his features. "I just get scared sometimes. I'm sorry."

Sam reached out and gently nudged Liam's cheek, smiling warmly. "Don't apologize, buddy. You're not doing anything wrong. I just wanted to know if it was something we did."

Liam shook his head, still looking uneasy. "No, you didn't do anything. I just…"

Sam waited patiently, keeping his expression open and understanding.

Liam bit down on his lip, chewed it for a second, and then looked back up at Sam. "I just know… you didn't want a hunting life for me. I remember you saying that when I killed the ghouls."

Sam nodded slowly, not entirely sure how he wanted to respond. "It's… it's true that I don't want you to have the life Dean and I have had, but…" He wet his lips and tried to come up with the right words. "But hunting isn't bad. It's a job that needs to be done. It's a job that helps people. I just… I want you to be happy and healthy and safe."

Liam nodded in understanding, his expression thoughtful, like he was really processing Sam's words.

Sam tilted his head slightly, a questioning look on his face. "Is there anything we can do to help you feel less afraid?"

Liam thought about it for a moment, and then gave a little headshake. "I don't think so." He swallowed. "Just tell me it's okay."

Sam put his hand on Liam's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, smiling. "It is absolutely okay. I just want you to tell us when you're scared so we can help."

Liam gave a jerky nod, and he looked a little less uncomfortable, but Sam could still see fear in his eyes. "I can do that."

Sam smiled a little wider. "Good." He stood up and tousled Liam's hair. "You ready for bed?"

Liam put his toothbrush in Sam's bag and nodded. "Yup." He still looked like he couldn't quite shake their conversation; like he was worrying he had done something wrong.

So, Sam grabbed him around the waist and hoisted him up, getting one arm beneath him to support his weight. "Alright! Bedtime, then." He leaned in, planting a kiss on Liam's temple.

Liam smiled, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck, and then he kissed Sam on the forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, too, buddy." Sam turned off the light and walked out of the bathroom, approaching the motel bed. "Here we go!" He turned around as he spoke, falling backward onto the mattress.

Liam squealed, a sound that tapered off into a laugh, and then he snuggled in close. Sam chuckled and sat up slightly, lifting their weight off the bed and trying to wrestle the blankets out from beneath them.

"Castiel, did you brush your teeth?" Liam asked.

Sam, still fighting with the blankets, glanced over at the angel. He was curious to see what Castiel would say.

Castiel simply blinked at them from where he stood in the corner of the motel room. "I do not need to brush my teeth. My teeth are perpetually clean."

Liam frowned, still laying on top of Sam. "But your angel powers are weak right now, and you've been eating food." He looked at Castiel almost suspiciously, tilting his head to the side. "I dunno, Castiel. I would brush my teeth if I were you. You don't want a dentist to have to drill your teeth, do you?"

Castiel seemed to tense slightly at the mention of a drill, but he didn't give any indication of why the word bothered him. "I promise I will take care of my teeth," was all he said, speaking in his usual monotone.

Sam grunted as he finally got the blankets out from under him, and then he pulled them up over both himself and Liam. "If Castiel doesn't get his angel powers back soon, we'll help him with his teeth, okay?"

"Okay," Liam said, but he didn't seem fully convinced.

"Ugh…" Dean groaned, rolling onto his back in the bed next to theirs. "Come on, guys. I'm trying to sleep here."

Liam covered his mouth, seeming caught between amusement and remorse. "Sorry, Dee."

Dean lifted his arm and dropped it unceremoniously back onto the mattress. "Come on, Cas…" He yawned, talking with his eyes closed. "Bedtime."

"Oh, I…" Castiel shifted in place. "I don't think I need to sleep. My powers have been slowly returning, and—"

"Cas." Dean smacked the mattress again. "Bed."

"Bed," Castiel echoed, nodding obediently. He stepped away from the wall and approached the bed, sitting on the mattress and then transitioning into a laying position. He stared at the ceiling, stiff as a board, and uttered a low, "I am in bed."

Dean groaned again, draping an arm over his face. "Close enough," he muttered.

Sam chuckled, and he felt Liam's chest vibrating with laughter against his own. "Ready for lights out?" he asked, reaching for the lamp mounted to the wall between the beds.

Liam nodded, resituating himself on top of Sam.

Sam pressed the button to turn the light off, and then he settled down into the mattress, wrapping both arms around Liam under the blankets. He gently massaged Liam's back with his hands, knowing massage was good for kids who didn't get held enough in early childhood.

"Goodnight, Liam," Sam whispered.

"Night, Sam." Liam fingers curled through Sam's shirt. "Love you."

Sam couldn't angle his head enough for a kiss, so he squeezed Liam tight and whispered, "Love you, too."

Silence settled over the room, and as Sam drifted off to sleep, he found himself worrying about the source of the weight on his chest. He couldn't help feeling discouraged every time he saw the hold Liam's birth family still had on him, and he couldn't keep from wondering if he was doing enough.

I need to talk to Dean.

And that was the thought that swirled around in his head until sleep dragged him under.

"Alright!" Dean grabbed two pistols and two boxes of ammo from the back of the Impala, turning around to face Liam and Castiel while Sam grabbed some more supplies. "First things first, Lee. We gotta find out which of your eyes is dominant."

Liam watched the brothers from where he stood, holding Castiel's arm and leaning against him. "How do we do that?" he asked, his eyes wide and curious.

Dean carried the supplies over to the table at the outdoor firing range, setting them down and motioning for Liam and Castiel to come closer. "It's really easy." He pointed downrange. "You see that stand where we're gonna hang the targets?"

Liam nodded his head, looking where Dean directed.

"Good. So, you take your hands and make a circle, and then you hold it out in front of you so you can see the target stand inside the circle." Dean demonstrated what he wanted Liam to do with his own hands, and he noticed with a bit of amusement that Castiel was mimicking the instructions, too. "Now, you close one eye and see if the stand is still in the circle."

Liam closed his left eye and nodded. "Yeah, it's still there."

"That means your right eye is your dominant eye." Dean looked at Castiel, who was frowning. "What about you, Cas?"

Castiel shook his head, his left eye still closed. "It moved for me."

"Try your other eye." Dean ruffled Liam's hair out of habit.

Castiel closed his right eye and opened his left, nodding after a second. "It's back in the circle."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course. You just had to be different." He smiled good-naturedly, knowing that Liam preferred when Dean kept his teasing to a minimum. "Sammy and I are both right-eyed, like Liam, so you're the odd one out, Cas. But that's okay. It just makes you special."

Castiel blinked, lowering his hands and looking at them. "I see."

Dean rolled his eyes again, looking back toward the Impala as Sam walked toward them with an armful of stuff. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry." Sam placed the hearing protection and targets, as well as a few other odds and ends, on the table. "I was removing all the tags from the stuff we just bought."

"Ah." Dean nodded in understanding, and then he grabbed a pair of earmuffs—for lack of a better word—sticking them on Liam's head and then poking his nose. "There we go."

Liam smiled, reaching up to touch the earmuffs.

Sam grabbed two of the target sheets and a couple clips. "I'll go hang these up."

Dean gave a thumbs up and then grabbed one of the pistols, pressing the button to release the magazine. "Alright." He handed the magazine to Liam, who hesitantly took it, and then he grabbed a box of ammo. "Loading the gun is super easy. See how the magazine is rounded on one side and flat on the other?"

Liam nodded, turning the magazine over in his hands.

Dean opened the box and pulled out the tray of ammo. "Well, so are bullets. You just line'em up. Flat to flat, round to round."

Liam nodded and grabbed a bullet from the tray, pressing it to one end of the magazine. "I just push this in right here?"

"You got it, bud." Dean glanced up at Castiel and saw him watching intensely, so he grabbed the other gun and pressed the release button, sliding the magazine out. "Here, Cas. You load this one up."

Castiel frowned and took the offered magazine. He started pushing bullets into it, his expression entirely too serious for the task he was performing.

Dean let out a little sigh but otherwise ignored the weird behavior, looking at Sam, who was returning from hanging the targets. He gave a big smile, and Sam smiled back, shaking his head at Dean's enthusiasm.

"You got Cas?" Dean asked, grabbing the gun that went with Castiel's magazine and sliding it down the table.

Sam gave a thumbs up, a smile still lingering on his lips. "Sure."

Castiel frowned, his expression almost looking like a pout as he grumbled a quiet, "I can do it myself."

"Yeah, I don't think so." Dean gave Castiel a pat on the back, wearing an almost apologetic look. "It's not that we think you're incapable, it's just that you're not experienced. Accept the help, Cas. It'll make us all feel better."

Castiel glared slightly, but he didn't argue, and he didn't reach for the gun himself.

Dean patted his back again, and then he put his attention completely on Liam. "Okay, first things first." He took a few steps to the left, standing right next to Liam. "You always, always treat a gun like it's loaded. Don't point it anywhere you wouldn't want to shoot, and don't look down the barrel." Dean grabbed the gun that went with Liam's magazine, showing Liam how to keep his finger away from the trigger. "Don't put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to fire, okay?"

Liam nodded seriously, watching Dean with wide eyes, and clutched the loaded magazine with both hands.

Dean put the gun back down on the table, sliding it a little closer to Liam. "Okay. Go ahead and pick it up with your dominant hand."

Liam grabbed the weapon with his left hand, resting his index finger on the trigger guard and pointing it downrange. He continued holding the magazine in his right hand, and after a pause, he looked up at Dean with curiosity in his eyes. "Do I just shove it in?"

Dean smiled slightly and nodded. "You got it, buddy."

Liam tilted the gun a little and inserted the end of the magazine, quickly sliding it all the way into position.

"Good," Dean praised. "Now, you gotta rack the slide." He tapped the top of the gun. "Just pinch this part here and pull it toward yourself."

Liam wet his lips and did as he was told, an expression of intense focus on his face.

"Perfect." Dean smiled. "So, the gun has a bullet in the chamber, and now you gotta put your other hand on the gun." He moved a little closer and used his own hands to demonstrate. "Put your thumbs next to each other like this, and your fingers will automatically go where they belong."

Liam looked at Dean's hands for a second, and then he put his free hand on the gun. "Like that?"

"You got it, buddy." Dean pointed to the targets downrange. "Now, it's time to aim." He shifted his finger to point at the rear sights. "You see those two little squares?"

Liam nodded, his expression a mixture of curious and serious.

"Good. You see the little square at the end of the gun?"

Liam nodded again.

"What you wanna do is line those three squares up in a perfect row. Same height, same distance apart, same everything." Dean pointed to the front sight. "You're gonna focus on this one, and you want it to be aimed where you want to shoot, but you need to line up those back ones, too. Make sense?"

Liam nodded yet again, lips pursing and brow furrowing as he considered the weapon. "So, I close my left eye, line up the squares, and pull the trigger?"

Dean grabbed some hearing protection from the table and put it on before giving Liam and thumbs up. "You got it." He held up a finger then, remembering something else. "You want your arms straight out in front of you, but you don't want to lock your legs. Stay relaxed."

Liam shook himself a little, rolling his shoulders and easing himself into a comfortable stance.

Dean grabbed the last pair of earmuffs. "Sammy." He waited until Sam looked at him and then tossed the earmuffs. "Liam's about to start."

Sam put the hearing protection on. "Got it."

Liam took a deep breath and closed his left eye, focusing on the gun. He stood very still, doing exactly as Dean said and keeping his arms straight and his legs relaxed. He swallowed and took another breath, and then he lowered the gun.

"You're making me nervous," Liam said softly.

Dean put a hand on Liam's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "Don't be nervous. We're just doing this for fun and to learn."

Castiel blinked his owlish eyes and tried to be helpful. "It's alright, Liam. I don't know what I'm doing, either."

Liam took another deep breath and steadied himself. "Okay. I got this." He closed his left eye again and took aim.

Dean watched in silence, a little trill of excitement running through his veins, and then it happened.

Liam pulled the trigger, and then he pulled it again, and then again. He fired shot after shot, gunfire ringing through the open air, and in less than two minutes, the gun was emptied.

"Alright!" Dean slapped Liam on the back. "Put the gun down, and we'll go take a look at your target."

Liam held onto the gun for a moment more, looking at it like he couldn't believe he had just fired it, and then he set it on the table.

They all walked downrange, Dean arriving at the target first and pointing out the hole in the center.

"Woah, Sammy! It looks like we've got a sniper on our hands."

Sam folded his arms over his chest. "What, are you surprised? I could've told you that."

Liam beamed at the praise, his earlier nervousness fading away in light of his success.

Dean looked at the holes Liam had made, most of which were generally clustered around the center. There were a couple holes that were near the edge of the paper, but for a first time, it wasn't bad at all.

Dean reached out and ruffled Liam's hair. "You did a great job, Lee." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Come on, let's load up while Cas takes a turn."

"Okay," Liam said, turning around and walking back toward the table.

They all left the target behind, walking up the range and returning to their supplies. Liam grabbed his gun and, after a moment of turning it over in his hands, found the button to release the magazine. Dean smiled proudly, watching Liam begin to reload before turning his eyes to Castiel just in time to see him fire the first bullet.

Castiel fired the bullets seamlessly, one after the other, his blue eyes trained on the target. He looked almost cold, his expression calculating, and Dean found himself thinking, not for the first time, that he was glad Castiel was on their side.

"Nicely done," Sam complimented, stepping around the table and starting toward the target. "Let's go take a look at it."

Liam set the gun and magazine down on the table, jogging briefly to catch up with Sam, and Castiel and Dean followed the duo down to the target.

Sam whistled, brushing his finger over the holes near the center. "Looks like you might be a sniper, too." He turned his head to look at Liam. "What do you think?"

Liam looked at the target for another second, and then he smiled up at Castiel. "You did really good!"

Castiel smiled faintly. "Thank you, Liam."

"Yeah, Cassie, you really nailed it!"

Dean froze for a fraction of a second, his pulse skyrocketing, and he turned on the spot. Who the—?

"I have to admit, it's bloody nuts to see you with a gun," the blonde man laughed from where he sat on the table, swinging his legs. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Castiel took a step forward and held his arm out in front of Liam, a mixture of confusion and suspicion on his face. "Balthazar?"

Dean hovered close to Liam, his gaze flickering between Castiel and the apparent 'Balthazar.' He didn't like not knowing what was going on, especially not when angels were involved.

"You're supposed to be dead." Castiel took another step and placed himself between Balthazar and the Winchesters, his tone making it clear he welcomed a fight.

Balthazar hopped off the table, shrugging his shoulder and spreading his hands in a gesture of nonchalance. "Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated."

Castiel quirked his brow, clearly not understanding the reference, but Dean didn't give him the chance to respond. Instead, Dean pushed Liam toward Sam and stepped forward, standing beside Castiel and staring Balthazar down.

"Why don't you cut the crap and tell us what you're doing here, featherhead."

"Well, somebody's edgy." Balthazar slipped his hands into his pockets, cocking his head to the side and looking at them like they had missed the punchline of a joke. "It's fine if you want to get right to the point, but I don't think I'm the one on trial here."

Castiel dropped the arm he had been holding out, his angel blade falling smoothly into his hand, and he and Sam spoke in unison. "I think you are."

"What do you mean?" Sam had both hands on Liam's shoulders, his grip probably tighter than Liam would have liked. "Who's on trial?"

Balthazar spread his arms again, looking at them like they were stupid. "Are you kidding? You started the Apocalypse, Winchester the Younger, and both Heaven and Hell are coming after you over it."

Sam grit his teeth, struggling with his words for a moment. "That was… I was…"

"He was manipulated," Dean finished, wishing he was the one with an angel blade in hand. "By everyone who's supposedly coming after us now. It's their fault."

"Eh." Balthazar shrugged again, holding his hands up and leaning from side to side. "Maybe yes, maybe no." He put his hands on his hips. "It doesn't really matter whose fault it is. Because, like I already said, they're coming after you."

Dean clenched his fists at his sides, and while he felt naked without a weapon, he wasn't about to let it show. "Right, and you're here to help your buddies finish the job."

"Oh, goodness, no." Balthazar laughed. "No, I'm here to offer my assistance."

Castiel cocked his head, and he actually seemed tempted to listen to what Balthazar had to say.

Dean had no such temptations. "And you're just the friendly neighborhood angel, helping us out of the goodness of your heart."

Balthazar only laughed again. "No, no, nothing like that." He put his fingertips together and tapped them a few times, his expression growing thoughtful. "See, I left Heaven because I happen to enjoy a rather… ehhh, let's say hedonistic lifestyle." He rocked on his heels, a mischievous grin curling his lips. "I came down here to get away from Heaven's plan, and I quite like the life I've built for myself. Unfortunately, Heaven and Hell are planning on fighting to the last man, and no matter who wins, there's very little chance I'll get to keep my life the way I like it."

Dean squinted suspiciously, but he couldn't deny that the offered motive struck him as honest. Still, even if he did choose to believe the story, they had already decided to stay far away from the Apocalypse and its danger.

"Hate to break it to you," Dean started, "but we're not gonna be much help. We're staying out of the Apocalypse and anything involved with it."

Balthazar arched his brows and let out a cross between a snort and a laugh. "You really think that's up to you? You think you can just say, 'No, thank you,' and they'll leave you alone?"

Sam pulled Liam a little closer, hazel eyes locked on Balthazar in cool calculation. "We have Enochian sigils on us, keeping us hidden."

"And yet, I found you," Balthazar quipped.

Castiel rolled his wrist, adjusting his hold on his angel blade. "I assume you found something ancient enough to subvert the spells."

Balthazar shook his head with a little grin. "Nope. I tracked you, Castiel."

Castiel stiffened slightly. "But I've been suppressing my essence, and my Grace hasn't returned. How did—"

"I might consider telling you if you help me convince these two not to put their heads in the sand." Balthazar folded his arms over his chest, opening his mouth to continue.

"I am not going to force them to fight a battle they have no chance of winning." Castiel looked conflicted for a moment, and then he shook his head. "I refuse."

"Cassie, you're forgetting something." Balthazar paused, and given his apparently theatrical nature, Dean figured it was for effect alone. "There's another player in this game."

Castiel narrowed his eyes, slowly shaking his head again. "I… don't understand."

Balthazar grinned. "There's someone else who was never fond of Michael and Lucifer fighting. Someone who's been missing for eons, presumed by some to be dead. Someone who actually stands a chance of beating Michael and Lucifer at their own game."

Castiel stared at Balthazar for a long moment, his eyes wandering from place to place and his lips moving faintly as he considered what was said. He stopped suddenly and looked at Balthazar in surprise, but Dean saw a flicker of hope in his eyes.

"Gabriel?" Castiel asked.

Balthazar clicked his tongue. "You got it, mate."

"Gabriel?" Sam echoed, looking at Dean before putting his attention back on the angels. "Like, the one who told Mary she was pregnant with Jesus?"

"That's the one." Balthazar folded his arms over his chest. "He's an archangel, and he's our best shot at making it out of this Apocalypse alive."

Castiel shook his head, his expression caught somewhere between curious and confused. "How are we going to find him? He's been missing for thousands of years."

"I found you." Balthazar shrugged. "I've been hiding for hundreds of years, but if the right rituals had been used, Heaven could've found me." He dropped his arms to his sides, slipping one hand into his pocket and gesturing with the other. "We're definitely never going to find him if we don't at least try."

Castiel stopped, pressing his lips into a thin line as he thought, and he actually looked like he was considering what Balthazar was saying.

"No way," Dean interjected, shaking his head. "We are not dealing with an angel problem by adding more angels."

Balthazar gasped dramatically, feigning a hurt expression. "How racist of you, Dean."

"Yeah, bite me." Dean narrowed his eyes, just waiting for Balthazar to reveal he was like every other angel in Heaven. "You can't even give a good reason for why you want to help."

Balthazar spread his arms in disbelief. "Dean, I gave you the best reason: selfishness." He put his hands on his chest. "I want to help myself, and if you don't think that's the epitome of honesty, then I don't know what to tell you."

Dean didn't really know how to respond to that. It was a good point, but still, he had a hard time trusting anything that came from Heaven or Hell. Honestly, he had a hard time trusting anything supernatural, period.

"Tell you what." Balthazar held up his hands in a brief gesture of surrender. "You go back to your motel and think about it, and if you decide you want my help, you meet me back here tomorrow afternoon. Let's say… 2:00?"

Dean looked Balthazar up and down, and then he looked at Sam. Sam gave Dean a look that meant, 'I'll follow your lead,' so Dean turned back to Balthazar and nodded his head.

"Deal."

Balthazar lifted his hand in a quick wave. "Well, hopefully I'll be seeing you tomorrow." He glanced at Castiel. "It was good to see you, Cassie. Ciao."

Just like that, he was gone, and the four of them were alone at the gun range.

Castiel blinked his wide, blue eyes and looked at Dean. "Should we discuss this now?"

Dean thought about it for a second, but then he shook his head. "No, let's finish what we were doing." He walked up the range toward the table, trying not to stew as he picked up the gun Liam had been loading. "Come on, Lee. Let's see what'cha got."

Liam looked up at Sam, who was still holding onto his shoulders. "Sorzie?"

Sam forced a quick smile and let go. "Sorry." He cleared his throat and gestured to Dean. "Go on. Go to Dean."

Liam jogged across the firing range, slowing to a walk once he got to the table. "Okay. I think I still had to put some bullets in the magazine."

Dean grabbed the magazine off the table and held it at Liam's eye level, pointing to the tiny holes that ran up the side. "You can see how many bullets you've put in by looking at these."

"Cool." Liam grabbed the magazine and looked at the holes before grabbing some bullets and starting to load them. "Thanks for teaching me how to shoot, Dean."

Dean blinked in surprise, and then a smile broke out on his face. "Sure thing, kiddo." He tousled Liam's hair, making a mental note to get him a haircut soon. "I love teaching you things."

Liam beamed up at him, and then he quickly got back to the task of loading the magazine.

Dean watched him, but it wasn't too long before he wasn't seeing what was in front of him, his mind completely submerged in thought. What the heck are we doing? He didn't know, and he had a feeling that figuring it out was going to be less than enjoyable.

"Liam, we're going to be right outside talking." Sam put a hand on the doorknob and turned it. "I need you to stay in here, alright?"

Liam looked up from his coloring book. "Um… I…" He worried his lips and then spoke again, looking at Sam like he was afraid of what Sam's reaction would be. "I know I'm only thirteen, but… I'd kinda like to know what we're doing. Maybe… maybe you could talk about some of it in front of me?" He winced as he finished his sentence.

Sam paused, feeling a little like he had been put on the spot, and considered letting Liam hear their plans. We were already going to tell him at least some of what we're going to do, and it's not like he hasn't been finding out everything about the Apocalypse, anyway. Sam still had to have a private talk with Dean, but as far as their plans for the Apocalypse…

"Okay." Sam let go of the doorknob and walked to the center of the motel room. "So, what are we going to do?"

Dean, who was sitting on the edge of the bed to Sam's left, shook his head immediately. "I don't like it. We don't know anything about him except that he's an angel, and, well… he's an angel." He looked at Castiel, who stood in the corner of the room. "No offense."

Castiel stared. "None taken."

Liam set his coloring book aside and scooted a little closer to the edge of the bed to Sam's right. "Not all angels are bad. I mean, Samandriel helped Castiel take care of me, and I bet we could trust him."

Sam was surprised to hear a name Liam had never mentioned before—at least, not that Sam remembered—and he briefly wondered if there were other things about Liam's captivity that he hadn't shared. Still, even though Sam knew Liam was smart, he also knew Liam tended to lack boundaries. After all, he ran away with Sam after meeting him once. Sam had to wonder if that trusting nature was coming into play with the angels.

"Samandriel doesn't know much about Heaven's plans," Castiel said, pulling Sam from his thoughts. "He's a rather low-level angel, likely just following orders without knowing details."

Sam nodded a few times, pausing for thought. "What about Balthazar? He talked like he knew you before he left Heaven. What do you know about him?"

Castiel took a deep breath. "Balthazar was an ally and a friend. However…" he cocked his head to the side with a slight wince, "…many angels in Heaven were allies and friends to me before my rebellion."

"And they're not now," Dean finished the thought for him, and then he scoffed. "Believing there was one good demon out there is part of the reason we're in this mess—"

Sam felt a punch to his gut at that.

"—and now you wanna believe there's one good angel out there."

Castiel looked away, shame painting his features. "Yes, well… we're actually proposing that there are two good angels. Possibly more."

Dean rubbed his chin, and for a moment, he actually looked like he was considering the idea, but then he shook his head again. "Look, Cas, you were tortured for helping us. Balthazar hasn't done anything but say he wants to keep his lifestyle. That's not proof we can trust him."

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Well, we definitely know he faked his death to get out of Heaven. That doesn't sound like the kinda thing you do half-heartedly. Even if his intentions aren't pure, I'm pretty sure we can say with certainty that he isn't doing anything for Heaven."

"I can't stay with you." Castiel spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, like he hadn't just seemingly changed the subject. "If Balthazar found me, Heaven will eventually find a way to do the same. My presence is a threat to your safety." He looked at Liam. "All of your safety." He glanced down, and then returned to looking at the group. "But perhaps this can be an advantage."

Sam gave Castiel a thoughtful look, questions swirling in his hazel eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I could join Balthazar, rather than Balthazar joining us." Castiel frowned slightly, calculations circling the air around him. "We could search for Gabriel while you continue hiding from Heaven and Hell. That way, if Balthazar is up to something nefarious, the backlash would only affect me. You would still be safe."

Liam shook his head, words bursting from his lips. "But what about you?" He swallowed, concern written plainly on his face. "What would happen to you?"

Castiel gave Liam a fond smile, and the perpetual edge of a cold soldier disappeared from his voice. "Liam, I have made decisions, and I have to deal with the consequences. I am largely responsible for what has happened, and that means I must do what I can to make it right." He smiled a little wider. "But I am content. I don't want you to worry, alright?"

Liam stared at Castiel, looking like his heart was in his throat, but he offered a faint nod. If Sam had to guess, he would say that there was nothing in Castiel's words Liam wanted to accept, but Liam was going to try.

Dean reached up and ran a hand through his hair, a scowl etched onto his features. "I don't like this." He shook his head. "It doesn't sound good, Cas. But… if you want to do it, I won't stop you."

Castiel frowned in confusion, tilting his head to the side. "You couldn't stop me even if you wanted to. You no longer have the angel blade, and even with my diminished Grace, I am stronger than you. You—"

"Geeze, Cas, just—" Dean rubbed his face with his hand. "Never mind." He stood up from the bed and looked at Sam. "You like the plan?"

Sam wet his lips and considered the idea for a few moments. He wasn't a huge fan of Castiel, though he wouldn't quite say he distrusted him anymore, but Sam certainly didn't want anything bad to happen to Castiel. Except it wasn't Sam's decision, really. It was Castiel's, and Sam couldn't deny it was a good plan. It was a plan that would keep Liam safe.

"I like the plan," Sam finally said, forcing a quick smile.

Dean looked at Castiel then. "Alright. We've gotta hit up a Walmart and get you a Tracfone."

Castiel cocked his head to the side. "What's a track phone?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "We'll explain it to you." He started toward the door. "Let's just go get it so we can set it up tonight."

"Actually," Sam interjected, putting a hand on Dean's chest to stop him. "I need to talk to you. Privately."

Dean looked at Sam with concern in his eyes, his forehead crinkling. "Um… okay?" He turned toward Castiel. "You and Liam can go out to the car a while, and… we'll be with you in a few minutes."

Sam turned to Liam, offering him an encouraging smile. "It's nothing bad. It's just something I would prefer stayed between Dean and me. Okay?"

Liam looked worried, but after a second of thought, he seemed to accept what Sam was saying. He offered a small nod and slid off the bed, looking at Castiel. "Come on."

Sam tousled Liam's hair as he walked past, a smile still lingering on his lips, and he hoped Liam wouldn't worry too much about the conversation.

Dean waited until the door closed, and then he gave Sam a look that said he was waiting.

Sam turned his head to look at the door, waiting a few more moments to be sure Liam had gotten far enough away, and then he faced Dean again. "It's about Liam."

Dean frowned, his brow creasing, and he folded his arms over his chest. "What about him?"

Sam wet his lips, trying to think of where to begin, and even though he had been thinking about having this conversation for days, he struggled. "I…" He took a deep breath. "I'm worried about him."

Dean tilted his head slightly, his brow still crinkled with confusion. "Okay. You wanna elaborate?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "I mean, he's been kidnapped, and he knows all about your trip to Hell and Castiel's torture, and he killed two monsters, and—" he shook his head, "—and I think his life is crazier right now than ours ever were at that age. He went to a couple therapy sessions with that Lynn lady while we were staying with Bobby, but we couldn't stay there, and he needs to be working through this stuff, and he needs to be working through stuff that happened years ago, and I don't know what to do."

Dean's eyes had gotten progressively wider the more Sam rambled on, but to his credit, he offered a slow and steady nod when Sam was done. "Okay… Okay, let's work this out." He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, and then he folded his arms again. "Is there any way he can talk to his therapist over the phone or something?"

Sam spread his arms slightly, helpless frustration washing over him. "How do we explain away the fact that we're moving across the country with no rhyme or reason?"

Dean pursed his lips and thought about it for a second, and then he gave a sideways kind of nod. "I see your point, but would a therapist really ask for an update on what city Liam is in every session?"

"Maybe?" Sam shifted where he stood, half tempted to start pacing. "I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair again. "Even if Lynn doesn't ask what city he's in, she's going to wonder why he's never in Sioux Falls."

Dean cursed softly. "Yeah, that's a good point." He looked down at the carpet, falling silent as he contemplated the situation at hand. "We could pick another city—one the angels wouldn't suspect—and go there often enough for him to get therapy."

Sam thought about it for a moment. "It would be a lot of driving, but it would be doable." He thought a little more, furrowing his brow. "It would keep us in a radius, which the angels could potentially find, but… I don't know what they would look for."

"Well, you could always wait." Dean shrugged his shoulders. "We're gonna figure out a way to end this Apocalypse, and once we do, we'll be able to settle down."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, that's what I thought about Lilith. I thought everything would finally be over, and we would be able to go to Sioux Falls and start living a somewhat normal life. Look how that turned out." Sam let the words sink in for a brief second, but he didn't give Dean a chance to reply. "Besides, when it comes to trauma, the sooner you deal with it, the better. Especially when you're a kid."

Dean rubbed his forehead. "Well, then… I guess we're just gonna have to pick a city, find a therapist, and do all we can to keep the angels from finding us."

Sam nodded a few times, accepting the idea as their best possible option. "I might start reading some parenting books, too."

Dean nodded. "I might read a couple myself. I mean, it can't hurt."

Sam let out a weary sigh, the weight of the situation coming down on his shoulders. He would never say he regretted adopting Liam, but he did feel unbelievably inadequate, and he wondered if he had sentenced Liam to a life of misery.

"Hey." Dean held up a finger and wagged it in Sam's face. "Knock that off."

Sam blinked.

"I know that face." Dean shook his finger again. "You are not a bad father, and you are exactly what Liam needs in his life." He dropped his hand, but his determination didn't waver. "We're gonna get through this mess, one way or another, and we're gonna come out on top. Then we're gonna find a little house, get some normal jobs, and raise the best kid on the planet."

"We?" Sam asked, arching his brow with a small smile.

"I'm invested." Dean gestured to the door Liam had gone through not ten minutes earlier. "Besides, that kid needs his Uncle Dean."

Sam let out a small laugh, feeling a bit of ease work its way into his muscles. "Yeah, he does." Sam sighed in relief, happy to have some kind of a plan. "Come on. Let's go get Castiel a phone, and then we can start looking for a good city to call our home base."

Dean nodded, walking past Sam to the door to the motel room. "We should start driving tonight, just in case Balthazar is up to something." He opened the door and stepped out.

Sam nodded in agreement, following Dean into the hall. "Sounds like a plan."

Dean stopped then, Sam nearly running into him, and he turned around to face Sam. "I meant what I said. We're gonna fix this."

Sam gave Dean a tight smile, but he couldn't deny he felt better about the situation than he had before his talk with Dean. "I know we are."

Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder and then turned around, striding down the hall toward the motel lobby. "Let's get this done."

Sam smiled softly and followed his older brother, allowing himself to feel just a little encouraged and uplifted.

Everything is going to be okay.

"So, where's our favorite gang of dirty rascals?"

Castiel turned around when he heard Balthazar's voice, leveling a stare at his fellow angel and reminding himself of the blade in his sleeve. "Balthazar." He stared for another moment, trying to get a read on his ex-comrade who was potentially becoming comrade once again.

"You never were the talkative type." Balthazar sighed and waved it off, approaching Castiel. "I bet you'd be chattier if you weren't wrapped up like a mummy."

Castiel didn't let himself look away, though he did give himself a moment to wonder how Balthazar knew about his bandages. "I would be chattier if I knew who I could trust."

Surprisingly, Balthazar didn't try to convince Castiel of his trustworthiness. He simply laughed, reaching out and patting Castiel on the shoulder. "If that's the case, let's get to work and see who stays loyal to who."

Castiel nodded twice, blue eyes locked on Balthazar's face.

Grinning, Balthazar stuck his hand out for a shake. "Let's go find ourselves an archangel."

Castiel grabbed the offered hand and gave it a firm shake. "Let's."