-Summary: It's the end of the world and they've got one last card to play. Castiel sends Dean back: back before everything. Now he has time to stop what's coming, but no friggin' clue how to do it. Time travel should really come with a manual. TIMELINE AU

-Pronoun Reminder: Quick reminder that Dean is still messing up pronouns. So if Cas is referred to with his/he/him in a paragraph that is primarily full of Dean thinking, then it's likely on purpose. However, I'm sure there's at least one him/he/his in there that isn't on purpose, and for that I say 'my bad.' Darn you, pronouns! (Darn you, decision-to-turn-Cas-into-a-girl!)

-Chapter Warnings: Dean and Cas have a quiet moment filled with way too much pain, alcohol, and familiarity. Sam's an eavesdropper and Castiel learns how to lie like they do on television.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The Road So Far (This Time Around)

Season 2: Chapter 15

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"I do not understand this," Castiel spoke up from her spot standing in front of the desk. She hadn't so much as moved, let alone sat down, while flipping through page after page of the notes Bobby had taken on the soon to be End Times.

"Which part?" Dean groused miserably, nursing a new glass of whiskey from where he half sat on top of the cluttered desk. He'd already gone through the crap his life had been – was going to be – twice, damnit. He really didn't want to do it a third.

What he wanted was to catch his precious four hours of (if he was lucky) dreamless sleep and call it a night. Well, morning, now. It was five fifteen am; Sam was snoring on the couch where he'd unintentionally fallen asleep and Bobby had called it quits two hours ago, telling them to wake him up if it was an emergency, otherwise it could wait until the sun had friggin' come back up. Cas had assured him that they had that long, at least, before she needed to return.

But if Cas was headed back to Heaven, then Dean didn't have time for a full night's sleep, or any sleep. They were on a time limit the hunter hadn't seen coming and was nowhere near prepared for. So it wasn't like he'd be able to pass out with anything even resembling rest right now.

"This, here, shortly before Lilith is killed." Castiel pointed to the part on the page in question, tilting it slightly in Dean's direction. Not that he could read Bobby's scrawl from a foot and a half away. Man should have been a doctor with handwriting like that. "Sam was contained in Bobby Singer's panic room in an attempt to clear the toxins from his blood. But the next entry states he reconvened with the demon Ruby."

"Yeah, well, that's what happened," Dean grumped, downing the last of his whiskey wretchedly. "What about it?"

"How did your brother get out? I have inspected the panic room myself. It is brilliantly constructed and could easily function as a prison. Withdrawal from demon blood as severe as these notes suggest would have left Sam disoriented, likely hallucinating and fevered. He couldn't have escaped on his own."

Dean rolled his shoulders, leaning back across the desk to swipe the dwindling bottle of alchol to refill his drink. Rather than answer, he went back to wallowing into the amber liquid. It wasn't that he didn't know the answer, or suspect it, at least. Though they never had figured it out for sure, Dean had his suspicions.

Cas stared at him, waiting, and his gaze eventually slid to the drink in his hand. Now rocking a decent buzz, probably on his way to being well and drunk, Dean didn't know if that look was more judgmental coming from a woman's face than Jimmy's. Maybe he was just putting it there himself, imagining the disapproval like some sort of stupid internal-self-depricating-projecting bullshit. Whatever, Sam would know the fancy psychology term.

Castiel's eyes met his once more and that head tilted in a familiar way.

"Told you not to do that, Cas," he grumbled, annoyed at the angel currently reading his mind. Or 'surface thoughts' as she'd called them. They'd had the talk (twice now) about how very much humans liked their privacy and personal space. So far, the results of the discussion had amounted to about as much as the first time Dean and Cas had the talk. Which was to say, there were no results, at all.

"How else do you propose I get answers, if you won't tell me them?"

Dean snorted into his drink at the sass. This Cas was picking up fast. Maybe introducing the idea of rebellion earlier meant the angel was taking it to heart a lot quicker this time around. Or maybe a female vessel came with female bitchiness.

The man from the future frowned down at his drink. That was mean, and not entirely fair. Dean was often an asshole, but he wasn't usually a dick, too.

"You're the only one that made sense," he said instead, answering the angel's original question as some sort of mental compromise for thinking dick thoughts.

"What?" Cas blinked in surprise and it was clear she didn't understand what he was getting at.

"You're the only one who could have let Sam out of the panic room. Thought about it, almost asked you a couple times, but by then it was in the past and we had bigger things to worry about." Namely, his brother going off the deep, deep, deep end and almost taking the world with him. "And you were so damn guilty the next time I saw you. Kept looking at me like you ran over my dog and were gonna do it again."

Dean swore softly, remembering that terrible, stupid, gaudy room he'd been trapped in and the look Cas had sent his way when he insisted he could not help. When he stood behind Zachariah like some lackey and just let kickoff to the end of the world happen. Dean had been pissed, for so many reasons, not least of which was the realization that at some point over that year since an angel had pulled him out of hell, he'd started thinking of Cas as a friend.

A friend who had betrayed them for some douchebag in a suit with bad hair and worse breath who clearly didn't give a shit about him.

"I don't know how Sam got out," Dean continued, refusing to look at those wide eyes staring at him, horror growing in their stupidly blue depths. "But the only thing that fits is you let him."

Castiel was stunned. She didn't know if the man was lying, didn't bother trying to find out, because she saw no motive for him to. Dean very desperately wanted the angel on their side, that much was clear, despite his irritable behavior towards her over the last several hours. Behavior that Castiel was certainly not versed enough in human emotions to decipher. However, lying about her role in Sam's release was far more likely to push her away, which Dean knew, as that fear was currently twisting through his mind like a parasite.

"I heralded in the Apocolypse?"

Dean snorted, muttering something along the lines of, 'like you were the only one.'

She looked back down at the notes that, until that point, had not had a lot of her in them at all. She'd played nothing more than Heaven's messenger to Dean, as far as she could tell, until she had betrayed Heaven and escaped the holding room with the hunter in two. Before that, Castiel was a mouthpiece of heavenly intent most of the time with the solitary exception of not destroying a town unfortunate enough to fall with a doomed seal.

It seemed unlikely that she would bow to Dean's whim against Heaven's command in order to save a handful of innocent humans, only to turn around and release the one man who could unleash their deaths anyway. The first decision sounded frighteningly like her – enough so that she waited for that English lilt to pipe up from the back of her conscience, but the ghost of her dead brother had not spoken since she'd asked him to leave her be – but the latter decision certainly did not. And she had been giving quite a lot of thought in the last six hours as to what she could and could not do when it came to the survival of the human race.

"Heaven made you do it," Dean finally answered, his forced monotone at odds with his tightly clenched jaw and the fist around his liquor glass. "That's what I'm trying to tell you, Cas. You can't go back up there. The minute they think you have doubts, they'll throw you in some re-education bible camp. They'll torture you – or worse – until you fit the mold again."

A mold that did not have room for Dean Winchester, or any other human.

Castiel tilted her head once more as her human charge's heart picked up, beating faster and harder than their current conversation or conditions warranted. His body language was tense with dread, and he was forcefully fighting back a persistent memory.

"Who is Naomi?"

Dean flinched, for which the angel almost apologized. "Stop reading my head, Cas."

"Then talk to me, Dean."

The hunter swore it had to be the new vessel. Maybe women were just naturally more expressive.

(They were, in fact, not, and it was Angela, awake as Jimmy had rarely been, telling Cas to add a little eyebrow lift to that one. "No, wait, too much, you don't want to look crazy. Huh? Oh, yeah, raising both of them too much is usually a sign of surprise. But just one- see, see what he's doing there? That's surprise. And maybe a smidge desperate. Don't do that. Maybe we should have practiced with a mirror first…")

"You don't know her?" Dean finally relented, ignorant to the conversation going on within Castiel's new body. "She's an angel."

"I am not familiar with her, but there are many angels. Some I know only by name."

Naomi was, indeed, one of those names, but Castiel had heard nothing more of her. They had not met before, nor had she heard anything pertaining to the other angel's duties.

"She's Heaven's enforcer," Dean bit out, expression dark and dangerous. "She's the one they send angels to when they step out of line. When Zachariah's asshole methods aren't enough." The human rounded fully on her, setting his drink angrily down on the surface of the desk and splashing several drops onto old books and scraps of paper Bobby would surely bitch about later. "She wipes angel's minds, Cas. Resets them. Brainwashes them. She brainwashed you."

Castiel frowned. "That's not possible."

"Oh, trust me." Dean's responding smile was not a smile. His lip pulled back and his teeth gleamed and his eyes were dark. The expression was as deadly as it was bitter, and Castiel grieved for the blatant weight this man bore across his soul. "I'm pretty damn sure it is."

That same memory played over and over in the hunter's mind, like he could not successfully put it to rest. Castiel stared hard at this newly assigned charge, whose body was filled with phantom pain as he saw, again and again, James Novak's vessel standing above him, fists clenched tight, face blank. Castiel knew it was not Jimmy that Dean saw in his memories, but his angelic friend. The 'Cas' Dean was so familiar with.

The angel wondered what could possibly put a human at ease when they'd clearly suffered through a trauma. The soul resting within her borrowed body, her third charge in this brand new world, had many possible answers but none of them sounded like the right one. And Castiel was fairly certain she would only get the one chance with this particular human.

"What did she do?"

Dean spared the angel a side glance, jabbing his finger at the rim of his whiskey glass and contemplating just how badly he did – and didn't – want to finish its contents. He didn't think Cas was reading his mind this time, otherwise she'd have her answer, but he didn't like the question any more knowing it was a genuine one. In fact, it might have made Cas asking it even worse.

"She tried to make you kill me."

Castiel's head tilted to the side and her full hair fell in a curtain of dark waves. Dean focused on that, on the shape and feel and the distraction of it all. The hunter let his mind wander wherever it damn well wanted to go, so long as it stayed out of that crypt and the memory of his best friend beating him to death.

"But I did not?" The angel was fairly certain of the answer, although she was beginning to realize that death was not an uncommon occurrence among the Winchesters. Three years into Bobby's notes, both brothers had faced and conquered it once, and Castiel could tell just from the frayed and thinning edges of Dean's soul that those were hardly the last times.

'Fuck it,' Dean thought, grabbing the whiskey with a full fist and downing the last of it. "No, for reasons we sure as hell aren't getting into now."

He managed not to slam the glass back down only for the reason that Sam was sleeping a few feet away and Bobby just upstairs. Instead, he let the thing slide across the wood with a satisfying, grated noise and rounded on Cas with his best I-Am-The-Righteous-Man-And-You-Will-Listen-To-Me face. "You can't go back to Heaven, Cas."

Castiel's head tilt only got stronger and it was like poking a needle into an inflated balloon, with the balloon being Dean's ego and optimism all in one. "I must."

"Why? Why can't you just stay here, where you're safe!"

It was a good thing the glass was out of reach, because Dean definitely would have slammed it down were it still in his tightly fisted hands. He needed to slam something. Castiel's eyes were wide again, surprise painted across her features. Dean had tried to make it clear that going back up there would put Cas in danger, but clearly the angel hadn't realized why that might be a bad thing. Stupid, oblivious, martyring idiot.

"I must, Dean," she repeated, though her tone was far softer and there was something in it that suggested she'd just realized the man before her actually cared about her wellbeing. The surprise there might have been painful, if Dean hadn't seen it a dozen times before. She set the notepad down on the desk, next to the empty glass. "If I play as big a role in future events as you suggest, than altering my own timeline will have the same devastating effects."

The hunter clenched his jaw in the face of possibly the only argument he couldn't actually argue against. Not that that had ever stopped Dean Winchester before. "Yeah? How's that timeline gonna do when you go and get yourself thrown in Heaven's prison, huh?"

Castiel didn't deign to respond to his childish anger. Instead she stayed annoying calm and infuriatingly rational. "Having a set of eyes and ears in Heaven can only help our cause. Your knowledge on their actions are limited to only what my future self relayed, which was minimal at best."

"You wanna play spy?"

The angel once more disregarded the hunter's attempts to goad her into a fight rather than face the logic of her argument. "There is another reason to return. I do not believe the entirety of the Host has corrupted. Some of my brothers will not stand for this. Perhaps they can be persuaded to turn against our superiors, should the time come that they must make that choice."

That shut Dean right up. Or, at least, it did for the thirty seconds it took his brain to reboot and the earlier panic – lingering in the back of his mind, just waiting for the incentive – to return. That irrational anxiety he'd been feeling ever since Cas declared she was going right back upstairs. A fear that had nowhere to go for a hunter like Dean except to boil over into anger.

"Damn it, Cas, you're going to get yourself killed!"

"I will be…covert," Castiel offered, trying her hand at appeasement and missing by a mile.

"You don't do covert! You can't even fake being an FBI agent!"

That got a slightly annoyed look from her, clueing Dean in that his continued questioning of her capabilities or reasoning would not be tolerated much longer. No matter how much he believed to know about her from another lifetime. Dean gritted his teeth and tried to shove that anger down enough to find some logic of his own, because, damnit, he wasn't wrong here.

"Even if you can get some of the angels on your side, you'll never sway the big guns. And numbers aren't gonna matter against Michael or Raphael, are they? They'll throw all of you in prison and we'll be right back to square one. Worse than square one; we'll be screwed."

"The risk does not make it wrong, Dean. You offered me a choice. My brothers deserve the same."

"She's got a point."

Human and angel turned to Sam, still lying on the couch but head turned towards them and eyes open and clear, suggesting he'd been awake and listening for some time. Dean swore under his breath, sending a glare in his brother's direction as he crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

"Foot soldiers can change the tide of a war," the younger Winchester offered, sitting upright. "If Cas can amass support – discreetly – Heaven may have a harder time letting the Apocalypse just happen."

"It could be a suicide mission, Sam."

The brunette glanced at Castiel, who returned a curt nod in his direction. "It's her family, Dean. Her choice."

"He's going to get caught, and we won't be able to do a damn thing about it from down here!"

"I appreciate the concern for my wellbeing," Castiel responded, not unkindly, "but this is not up for discussion. I will not abandon my home. My brothers. Especially if what you say about Zachariah and Naomi is true."

Dean sent Sam a desperate, pleading look and the younger Winchester was still kind of floored to see Dean so worried. He really didn't want Cas going back up there. Part of Sam's incredibly intelligent brain suggested they heed that fear. Dean knew more about all of this and everything that came next than either he or Castiel. It was still the angel's choice, however. Perhaps even the right one, given that keeping her from Heaven might alter the timeline too much anyway.

"She can act as a double agent up there. Our eyes and ears, maybe even some influence. That could be a huge advantage."

His brother threw up his arms, frustration clear on his face but fueled more by concern that bordered on panicked. He knew he was losing this fight. "He can't even lie believably!"

"She."

"Whatever," Dean growled. "Point's still the same. She's total crap at undercover."

"Then we'll teach her." Sam turned to Castiel with a questioning look and the angel, though less sure of this particular topic, gave a nod once more. He turned back to his brother. "If she's made up her mind, we need to arm her the best we can. We'll teach her how to lie."

Dean snorted, dropping his arms and grabbing the whiskey bottle. "Good luck with that."

-o-o-o-

Teaching an angel to lie was like mixing oil and water. At least, teaching this angel to lie, as Dean had mentioned more than once how easily it came to the rest of Castiel's brothers. It certainly did not help that Dean sat in Bobby's chair, feet on the desk, glass in hand, and made snide quips at every turn. It got to the point where Sam grabbed the liquor bottle, put it on the other side of the room, and in no uncertain terms told his brooding brother to help or get out. To which Dean glared deeply and more than a little sullenly, before he eventually started offering pointers.

Castiel really was terrible at deception, just as Dean had said. Her eyes would widen almost comically any time they asked her a question she did not know the answer to and thus was expected to make one up. Then she'd stumble and stutter her way through something jumbled and largely incoherent. It wasn't the basic concept that was giving her trouble. The angel understood the idea behind fabricating a story rather than confessing the truth along with the purpose of it, if not the necessity. She was just total crap at it.

"This is never gonna work," Dean finally growled, annoyance making the words come out low in his throat and Sam winced sympathetically as Castiel both ducked her head and clenched her fists.

"Have some patience, Dean," Sam argued back, feeling a tad defensive on the angel's behalf. It was obvious to him that Castiel was trying. Not just trying to do something completely unnatural to her values and base personality, but trying to follow Dean's every demand when she clearly didn't want to. From agreeing to help them against Heaven's orders to changing her vessel, returning to her home and siblings seemed like the only thing she wasn't willing to compromise, and Sam could respect that. Not to mention, Dean was being an ass.

"Just because lying comes easy to you-" Sam continued, knowing that was a low blow, with Dean flinching almost violently at it, "-doesn't make it easy for her."

His brother blanched, fidgeting as he first sat upright in Bobby's chair, then gave up entirely and got to his feet with the need to move, half from guilt and half in frustration. He didn't want lying to come easy to the angel. He knew the path that led there and it wasn't one he ever wanted Cas to walk again. But, damn it, this was kinda life or death stuff they had to teach hi- her and they had all of one night on no sleep to do it.

Logically, Dean knew what this was that had him so tense and angry. He knew that crawling feeling just under his skin that showed itself as rage and frustration and impatience was actually fear. Fear he wasn't even ashamed to admit (to himself, of course; no way he was saying it aloud) because they were talking about sending Cas into the lion's den. Outnumbered, barely armed, with no rescue option should it all go to hell in a handbasket.

And Dean was just so damn sure it was going to.

He was still trying how to put all of that into words without sounding like he was scared shitless, when Sam straightened on the couch, a sudden in his eye that usually meant he'd had a revelation.

"We're going about this the wrong way." Yup, that was Sam's breakthrough voice, and the hint of a smile on the corner of his lips meant it was probably a good one, too. "We're trying to teach her to lie. We need to teach her how to not answer instead. Without lying."

Dean blinked, then furrowed his brow as he thought through his brother's words and what he was talking about. "You want him to pull a Spock?"

"What's a spock?"

"I was thinking politician – several come to mind – but, yeah, Spock works too," Sam reasoned with a shrug, that smile growing even as he turned to answer the angel's question. "Spock is a character in a well-known science fiction show. He's from an alien race called Vulcans, who don't lie."

"They're all about logic and 'controlling one's emotions,'" Dean continued, raising his hands in air quotes that blue eyes followed with a curious frown. "You'd like 'em, Cas."

"Yes, they do sound more sensible than humans."

Sam snorted something unlady-like over on the couch and Dean narrowed his eyes at the sassy angel.

"Watch it, Bucko. Almost all my friends are human."

"You don't have any friends, Dean," Sam interrupted, that little smug smirk pulling at his face as he took the angel's side again. He sent Cas a little conspiratorial grin that she didn't seem to get, and added, "Present company excluded."

"Bitch." Dean pulled quite the bitchface of his own, crossing his arms over his chest, but he couldn't ignore the way his lips tried to stretch into a smile. This was almost home. This was almost family. Almost what he'd had and had to leave behind. What he so badly missed and was, admittedly, a good chunk of his motivation in retrieving the angel. "All my friends will be human. Except Benny. And Benny's awesome."

And one hell of a mood-killer, turned out. That damn Cajun vampire who'd been as much a brother to Dean in Purgatory as Sam or even Cas. More so, actually, because he'd stuck by Dean's side and hadn't pulled some dumb suicidal penance of not leaving. But Dean shoved all that away and, along with it, the painful thought that he'd probably not meet Benny in this timeline. Not if he successfully changed the future. And didn't that just suck, right alongside every other side effect of time travel. There was just no way he could let anyone, including himself, open Purgatory, no matter what awesome bro-vamps were waiting on the other side for an escape. (And, oh god, he did not just use the word bro-vamps.)

"Who's Benny, Jerk?"

Dean shook off Sam's question, a pained look that quickly schooled itself into 'later', which his brother thankfully heeded. They had more important things to discuss right now. After that, Dean was going to sleep for a friggin' week and not think about anything past two thousand and six.

"Right," the man from the future clapped his hands together, leveling Cas with a look that made her decidedly nervous. "Time to teach an angel a thing or two about lying like a Vulcan."

Castiel's brow pinched and she glanced between the two brothers, clear confusion in her eyes. "I thought you said Vulcan's do not lie."

-o-o-o-

It took another three hours, the sun climbing well into the sky by that point. Bobby eventually rejoined them, all puffy-eyed and grumpy-browed, until Sam put a cup of freshly brewed coffee in front of him and he showed his appreciation by silently sipping the life-giving drink as he watched the two idjits Vulcanize an angel.

Castiel was pretty damn close to a natural at evasion, it turned out. Once she got the idea of avoiding an answer with another truth, or a half truth, or returning their question with a question of her own, she'd picked it up with a wicked aptitude that Dean sometimes forgot was buried beneath all that stoicism and pop culture cluelessness. But Cas had always been a brilliant strategist, despite lacking creativity. That had been their problem with lying; Castiel wasn't good at making things up, but she was an expert at employing what she already had.

"Where were you, Castiel?" Sam asked, voice stern and even as he mimicked what he envisioned was an angelic superior.

Given that Cas stood at attention, somehow even more motionless than she'd been previously, Dean figured Sam wasn't that far off. Or Castiel was better at role playing than he'd ever suspected.

Mind out of the gutter, Dean. You don't even like roleplay. Except hot nurse outfits. Hot nurse outfits are okay. She'd look amazing in a hot nurse out-

Dean made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat and crossed from the kitchen counter to the doorway, desperately needing movement for his suddenly restless energy. Sam watched him pass with a look that said he knew exactly where Dean's head was at and was both disapproving and also entirely prepared to never let him live it down. Dean just glared at him.

"I was on Earth," the angel replied succinctly and confidently, unaware of the silent conversation happening between the brothers.

"What were you doing there?" The older of the two asked, voice staying even despite the fact that he needed a good head cleansing and maybe a quick adjustment to his pants.

(He was fine, damnit.)

This wasn't their first time running through this kind of drill, and Cas was getting good at it. It was almost fun, and Dean had found himself actually enjoying the banter over the last couple hours, forgetting his fear several times (at least until he abruptly remembered it again, always with a lurch deep in his stomach). Previous moment aside, he'd also mostly gotten his body and mind to behave around Angela. Mostly.

"I was speaking with a human."

It was Sam's turn to fire off, "Who?"

Castiel turned her head to meet her second interrogator with a pause. It didn't come across as hesitant as it had in earlier run-throughs, and the boys both took it as improvement. They'd been asking tougher questions with each round, too. "I believe the name he gave me was a joke."

'I'm Dean Friggin' Winchester.'

Dean snorted. That was pushing it, but it wasn't a lie. The line certainly hadn't been completely serious, that's for sure. A little inside joke all for himself and an audience ten years in the future. Scratch what he'd said earlier. The angel was getting creative.

"Nice one, Cas."

"Why were you on Earth?" Sam continued before the angel could get too comfortable with the hunter's praise. Not that it wasn't earned, but they weren't finished yet. Over the last three hours, the brothers had taken turns playing good cop/bad cop, sometimes bad cop/bad cop, as they took turns firing off questions. Sometimes they gave the angel time to think, others were speed rounds. The angel adapted pretty spectacularly, given how new she was to this.

"The human prayed to me for guidance."

"Why did you leave Heaven when you knew it wasn't allowed?" The angel cast a look Dean's way, a little more uncertain this time as she didn't have an immediate response readied. It was a harder question, the hunter knew, because it admitted disobedience. The key would be to downplay just how noncompliant she was considering being. Had considered. Hell, fully committed to at this point, Dean was pretty sure.

"Because," Cas started slowly, turning her upper body to face Dean entirely, shoulders squared. Those blue eyes were as intense as Dean had ever seen them, and he swallowed heavily at the memory of an angel in a barn so many years ago. It came to him instinctually, a super-charged exchange he had never forgotten, and Dean knew what Cas was going to say before she said it, "God commanded it."

Sam's brows went damn near his hairline (and over his shoulder at the kitchen table, Bobby choked on a mouthful of lukewarm coffee.) The room feel silent and he glanced at his brother. "Is that going to work?"

Dean shrugged, clearing his throat past the weird ache there. "It isn't a lie."

Castiel straightened at the approval, turning to Sam. "God once commanded the angels to shepherd humans and be their guide in all things. Even with Heaven's gates shut, his command has not changed."

"It's risky," Dean piped in, a little flicker of worry in his gut telling him not to let Cas's ego get ahead of itself. The angel had never been one to get caught up on pride or arrogance, but it would be a stupid thing to blow her cover on upstairs.

"Indeed." The angel tilted her head conciliatorily, but lost none of that sureness from her eyes. "However, I am confident I can argue my point with success. As you said, it is not a lie, and Zachariah cannot accuse me of disobedience for it alone."

Especially not if others of the Host were present at the time. Castiel was still certain that not all her siblings would abandon humanity – or their Father's initial will – so glibly. She had to believe that some of her brothers would realize God's original commandment still stood.

Sam shrugged, happy with trusting the angel to know more about Heaven then they did. Dean was still frowning lightly, but he couldn't really argue. Zachariah might give her a slap on the wrist, but it was nothing the angel couldn't handle.

"Damn," he finally said, a smile breaking out. "Nicely done, Cas. I'd say you're ready."

As ready as she could be for just one night of practice. That was going to have to be good enough. His smile turned more smirk as he lifted his hand, splitting his fingers down the middle in a Vulcan salute. Across the room, Sam groaned.

"Live long and prosper, young Padawan."

Sam groaned even louder and Castiel's blank face tilted quizzically to the side.

"I do not understand."

Bobby snorted into his mug, Sam just rolled his eyes, and Dean clapped the angel on the shoulder hard enough to jolt her body forward all of a half inch.

"You don't have to, Cas. But when you get back, we're watching Star Trek. I'm educating you properly this time around."

Castiel didn't understand that, either, but the smile on Dean's face and the way his soul flickered happily in response was enough for her to know that she didn't need to.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

-A/Ns: Mostly chatter this time around, but I particularly like the quiet moment between the two of them while Dean thinks Sam is asleep :)

-Approaching Milestone: So some of you may have noticed that we are rapidly approaching that awe-inspiring 1000 review milestone! I'm ecstatic. I've never written anything that got even halfway there (I've never written anything this long, either). In celebration and as a treat for how awesome you guys are, when we hit that magical 1000th review, you'll get back-to-back chapters that weekend (one on Sat, one on Sunday). I was originally going to keep it as a surprise, hooooowever… Look, I'm not saying Chapter 16 has a nasty cliffhanger, or anything… I'm just saying that if I were you, and I was going to get back-to-back chapters… I'd probably want those chapters to be 16 and 17, as some sort of meager consolation for the mother-of-all-mean-cliffhangers-that-won't-be-resolved-right-away-because-this-story-has-a-no-good-dirty-rotten-author-behind-it.

I'm aware it's going to be a challenge, though. Fifty reviews for one chapter is *a lot.* Oh, and this isn't bribery! (Okay, it's not completely bribery). You'll get those back-to-back chapters whenever we cross that milestone, be it next chapter or four chapters from now. I'm just saying…. If it were me…. I'd want Chapter 17 immediately after the not-niceness that is the end of 16.

Just saying ;D

-Reviews: Speaking of! Thank you all so much for your continued support and pure awesomeness! I hope you drop a line and let me know how we're doing, especially now that we have a couple chapters of Cas-with-a-feminine-pronoun under our belt. It hasn't been the easiest to write, and I'd love a check-in with how you guys are getting along with it.

-Up Next: With Cas's evasion tactic down almost-pat, it's time to head back up to Heaven before the boys upstairs start wondering where their littlest angel has gotten off to. But first, there's a little problem Castiel forgot to mention, and her name is Angela Garrett. Bobby's not gonna be happy, especially when the boys rush off after a surprise phone call from an old friend of the family.