Author's note: Thank you all for your reviews and your patience!

Previously: Castiel is promoted to Garrison General to replace Anna, who has ripped off her own Grace. Years later, he is ordered to go to Hell to rescue the righteous man's soul, which is the first seal demons must break in order to free Lucifer and start the Apocalypse. After forty years of searching, they save him, but too late. Dean Winchester is now the only one who can stop Lucifer. Castiel attempts several times to talk to him, but his voice seems to harm him. He finally decides to take a vessel as Balthazar advised him...

This chapter takes place in season 4 episodes 1 & 20.

oOo

Jimmy

"Do you really think I can get you a vessel with one snap of my fingers? This type of Humans is rare and there is a waiting list as long as my arm based on priorities and rank. There's a procedure to follow, Castiel. Forms to fill out, training to attend, authorizations to obtain. It's not something you can decide overnight. You should have planned ahead."

Sitting at his desk with his hands folded, Zachariah is staring at me in a patronizing way.

"I didn't think I would need it, but it turns out to be the only way for me to make contact with Dean Winchester. Due to the recent incident I reported, he knows my name, and is likely to summon me at any time. Without a vessel to contain me, I might cause him serious injury."

"Oh really? And how exactly is any of this my problem? Do I look like I can pop you one of these on the spot? I can't believe it, it's like everyone assumes I have the answer to everything, and they keep showing up in my office all day long with puppy eyes!"

Standing at my side, Balthazar interrupts somewhat obsequiously:

"Actually I already have a bloodline arranged for my beloved General, and I have the paperwork all covered. As for the training, I can provide it to him in the process."

Zachariah sizes Balthazar up, shards of ice in his dark blue eyes glistening briefly. Suddenly he rises from his chair to walk around the desk.

"Come on, I was just messing with you! Of course we can work something out, that's the whole point of having connections high up, right?"

He steps between us and pats us on the back with his wings in a familiar way that lacks the intimacy I used to share with my brethren before I became their superior.

"It's a good thing you're taking the initiative to put on a meat suit, Castiel. In a few days, there will be a directive stating that all Angels and Cherubs in the field must have one attributed to them - this will be strongly recommended for paper-pushers as well. And it will be strictly forbidden to walk the Earth without a vessel."

"That's right," says Balthazar. "Early bird gets the worm, late bird gets what's left!"

Zachariah folds up his wings and leans against his desk.

"Oh, and don't thank me, you'll just owe me a favor someday. And that, Castiel, is called networking. Always have a few top brass up your sleeve. Learn that lesson."

"This is not all" I tell him. "We also need a time travel derogation."

Zachariah opens his eyes wide and throws up his arms in a somewhat fatalistic way.

"Why don't you take my job too while you're at it, Castiel?"

"No thank you. I just want the derogation."

Zachariah blinks and stares at me as though unsure if he should be laughing or get angry. Balthazar lets out an obviously forced, stilted laugh while gently nudging me in the back with his wing.

"Ha ha! Erm. Look, Zachy, in order for the Human to let Cas into his body, he must first have gained his trust, and for that to happen, it's not lubricant we need, but time. And we don't have that kind of time now."

Zachariah gives us a hard stare before blurting out a rusty chuckle.

"You sure are a lot of fun in the Garrison! Fine, let's get you an exemption. I'll pass this on directly to the administration as a one-time exception."

He stares at us for a moment.

"What now? Shall we hold hands and sing psalms together? Get out of my way, I've got work to do!"

oOo

My claws hit the ground hard and I only manage to stabilize myself with one hand. Were I not invisible and therefore partially incorporated into an ephemeral alternative reality, I would undoubtedly have destroyed this peaceful neighborhood plunged into the night. Houses all built on the same model line up before my eyes, blurred outlines, washed out colors. My Grace is slowly moving inside of me, as though drained of its energy, so I flex my hands as I stand up to make it flow better.

I meet Balthazar's teasing gaze, and my vision gradually returns to normal, painting the world in deep blue shades under the moon.

"Well well, O great General, one little trip back in time and you're kicking the bucket? We've only gone back two months."

"I had some trouble balancing my energy."

I have never traveled back in time before in my entire life. And while I know how to do it in theory, like any Angel of my rank, I've never had to actually practice it before. It's unsettling. And to think that at this exact moment in the timeline, I am in Hell on a wild-goose chase while the righteous man is breaking the first seal... If I had known then what I know now...

"Aww, you poor thing. Do you want me to carry you? We're about to take a dozen leaps in time to gain your meat suit's trust, and I wouldn't want you to die on me. Surely they won't like it upstairs and they will probably say it's my fault again - oddly enough, that's what the hierarchy assumes every time there's something fishy."

Now that's a bit offensive.

"I'm the General of the Garrison, Balthazar. I can take care of myself."

"Oh, don't take it the wrong way, Cassy! I would have carried you gently and reverently, like a newlywed bride."

It's probably better to just ignore him. More often than not, my reactions merely embolden his insolence, and I've known Balthazar long enough to understand that there is no better way of dealing with him than to remain impassive.

So I avert my eyes and scan the houses lined up next to each other at my feet. They all have the same garden plot with a few trees and a parked car.

"Where is the vessel?"

"Sleeping in front of a dumb TV show, like any other sane male of his age and social background."

I follow Balthazar's direction with my eyes, and kneel to watch a male Human sitting alone in his living room. There is nothing exceptional about him on the surface, and like Htmorda, I never really understood what is supposed to tell apart a beautiful Human from an ugly one. They all are beautiful to me, for they are Father's masterpieces, in a way that we can never be.

So this is what Dean Winchester will see when he lays his eyes on me. It's disappointing that I can't appear to him in my true form, just like Camael did for Cain. I need to stay focused on acquiring my vessel. I can see his wife and daughter are fast asleep upstairs.

"He is alone. This is a good opportunity. I will make contact."

"Try to talk on the right wavelength this time."

"What is his name?"

"Jimmy Novak."

I squint and focus to let a faint trickle of voice slide into the physical reality, solely on the confined space of the room in which the vessel is located.

"Jimmy, wake up," I whisper softly.

And just like it happened with the righteous man, the only thing responding to my voice is the television: the image on the screen gets scrambled. Well, at least it woke Jimmy up.

"You're doing it again, Cas! You're back on the dog wave frequency. When the day comes a prophecy predicts that a golden retriever will save the world, you'll be the first on the list to make contact. Why don't you modulate your voice a notch lower?"

"Jimmy, I am an Angel of the Lord. God chose you for..."

The vessel clutches his skull with both hands and drops to his knees with a scream. Then collapses on the ground in convulsions. Balthazar stops me with one hand on my shoulder, giving me a slightly judgmental look.

"Dean didn't have that kind of reaction," I said, getting defensive.

"That's because Dean isn't epileptic like Jimmy is."

"Oh." I get up stiffly, disheartened and confused. "Why can't I talk to them, Balthazar? Is there a problem with Dean? Is it because of his time in Hell? And Jimmy, is he...?"

Balthazar stands up as well and gazes at me with fond pity.

"No, Cassy, there's nothing wrong with them. You're just terrible at this, that's all."

I glare at him and he raises his arms in a defensive manner.

"Hey! No one can be good at everything! True, I am exceptionally talented - also blessed with ravishing charisma - but I would be unable to manipulate the human mind as you do so brilliantly."

I take a look down again at Jimmy who scrambles back to his feet, shaking all over.

"How am I meant to interact with my vessel if he can't hear my voice?"

Without a vessel, I won't be able to talk to Dean, nor will I fulfill Heaven's new duties. This is most inconvenient.

Balthazar wraps me under his wing like a silken cocoon.

"Just trust your old brother. Have I ever let you down, hm? You're getting into this hot piece of meat, I'm making this personal. I have an idea…"

oOo

The sun is still high in the sky when the vehicle parks in front of the house and Jimmy comes out with a paper bag in his hand. The Human has asked for sick leave after his seizure, and looks quite preoccupied as he walks into the empty house and drops his medication on the living room table. Then he sinks into the armchair with a weary sigh, grasping his skull in his hands.

"Now is the time. Take advantage of the wifey being out on grocery shopping..."

I nod and, one knee down, I lean over to lower my face over the roof - the house itself is tiny, one of my eyes is almost twice its size.

I concentrate on the television's silent screen facing Jimmy.

"Jimmy..." I whisper in a barely audible breath.

The television screen flickers and sizzles for a moment, successfully carrying my voice, and then stabilizes, projecting a bluish light into the room. Balthazar was right. It's working. Through electronic devices, my voice's tonality is filtered and therefore tolerable for the vessel's ears. Jimmy looks up with a frightened gasp, then sighs and glares at the television.

"Dysfunctioning again? Unbelievable, we bought it a couple months ago... Guess I'll have to take it back to the store. Just perfect."

He gets up and switches the device off before he wearily rubs his eyes. And reopens them wide when the screen immediately switches back on.

"The television is working fine, Jimmy. I am only using it to talk to you."

"You could've done better with your introduction, Cas. Humans need deeper lines to be impressed. But I leave it to you! You're the boss after all!"

Jimmy is gaping at the screen.

"I really need to get some sleep," he mumbles, reaching out with a shaking hand to turn the television off.

This time, I don't let the device go off. No matter how many times Jimmy pushes the button, the screen remains on.

"You have to listen, Jimmy. You have been chosen."

"Is that another one of Roger's jokes?" Jimmy laughs forcefully. "Ha ha good one, Roger, I almost fell for it! Is that a recording?"

"I am not Roger. My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord."

Jimmy's hand stills and he stares wide-eyed at the screen. Then he frowns in outrage.

"No! That's going too far. Don't you dare use the Lord's name for some stupid joke!"

He bends over and rips out from the socket the plug that supplies the television with electricity. The screen stays on.

"This is not a joke, Jimmy. God has chosen you for an important purpose."

Gawking, the Human drops down sitting on the floor, and frantically scrambles backwards, eyes riveted on the screen until his back hits the couch.

"Oh my God..." he chokes.

"No: Castiel. But it is indeed He who sent me."

Is my name that hard to memorize?

There are so many emotions flashing across his face. Confusion. Fear. Wonder.

"Castiel." He gulps. "Is this real? God sent you? I... It's such an honor, I..."

He gets to his knees and reverently crosses himself, whispering a prayer.

"Playtime's over, Cassy! The missus is back!"

Indeed, there is a door slamming, and I slowly stand up again. In the house, the television immediately turns off. The blond woman pauses in the doorway, her arms full of groceries, blinking in surprise.

"What are you doing on the floor?"

Jimmy stares at the black screen as though coming out of a dream, then turns to face her, running his hand through his hair in obvious confusion.

"Nothing, Amelia, I... I was praying."

"… in front of the television?"

"It worked," I tell Balthazar. "I have to talk to him again to persuade him to say yes."

"I appreciate your enthusiasm there, but that's not how it works! And believe me, I know what I'm talking about. Best strategy is to do some talking, a few small miracles to blow their minds, nudge them until they're begging to help us. We're going to take a little leap in time, and come back in three days, when he's ready."

oOo

I had thought that time travel would get easier eventually, but I was wrong. I have once again consumed too much energy in the process, and my Grace is unpleasantly numb when I reach my destination in the timeline. I grab my brother's shoulder to steady myself.

"It would be better for you to spare your energy for the moment you'll transfer into your vessel, and for the many battles to come. You still don't want my help? Once you are in possession of your vessel, time travel should no longer be a problem for you."

He does make a point, so I nod in agreement, my eyes riveted to the house. Jimmy is sitting at the kitchen table. He is reading a newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee while his wife slips the strap of her purse over her shoulder.

"I'm taking Claire to her piano lesson, and then we'll have lunch at Roger's, okay?"

"I know, Ames, you've told me three times already," says Jimmy with a soft smile.

She takes the car keys and her daughter's hand, then walks out of the house, giving me the opportunity to speak to my vessel.

"You know, it should have been her. The vessel I intended for you."

The vehicle starts up and drives off to the road.

"Who, Amelia?"

"What? Of course not! You're hurting my feelings. No, I'm talking about the girl: Claire! I worked hard on this bloodline, you know, to build you a vessel perfectly fitted for your Grace. And she is your true vessel, not Jimmy. Because, you see, I've always thought of you more as a woman, for some reason. You'd make a cute little sister. This Apocalypse is happening just a couple years too soon, she's still a bit young. But anyway, Jimmy will have to do in the meanwhile, and once this whole mess is over, assuming Humanity hasn't been wiped out, then you can try her on. You'll see, it will be something else: power, efficiency, speed, and so on. Besides, I guarantee you that once she's grown up, she'll be a hottie."

"So Jimmy isn't adapted to my Grace?"

"Yes, of course he is. Just like the vessels I provide for our brothers are adequate and functional. Just think of them as cheap ready-to-wear, whereas Claire is tailor-made. Classy, high fashion. You see what I mean?"

"Not really. But why didn't the other Angels get the... tailor-made vessels too?"

"Because they're usually just for Archangels. To get them for every other Angels, it would be like casting pearls before swine."

I have no idea what swine have to do with any of this but I'd rather not ask.

"Then why did you make me one, Balthazar?"

My brother chuckles, patting me on the head with his wing.

"Isn't it obvious, Cassy? Has it not occurred to you over the past millennia that I like you? It's a gift, of course!"

"Oh."

Now that's embarrassing. What am I supposed to say? Should I do something? Touch him? Thank him?

I set my eyes on him, clenching my fists resolutely.

"… I... like you too, Baltha..."

"AH! Stop! Let me stop you right now before it gets sappy, because this sounds like a romantic comedy where we're about to start singing. Now, please do something with that vessel of yours!"

He doesn't have to tell me twice. That was awkward.

Jimmy finished his coffee and dropped the cup in the sink. I crouch down and quietly whisper my voice into the closest electronic device to him.

"Jimmy... Can you hear me?"

I can hear Balthazar, behind me, dramatically smacking his forehead.

The man stops washing his cup and turns off the tap, staring at the device. He holds his breath and bends over as though to hear better.

"… Castiel?"

"That's my name. Do you believe in God, Jimmy?"

Jimmy blinks and lets out a bewildered laugh.

"My microwave is asking me if I believe in God..."

"Alright, then. I think it's time to blow his mind," says Balthazar as he kneels down at my side.

He places a finger above the house and makes a small movement. Every item in the kitchen suddenly starts floating before Jimmy's astonished eyes. He takes a step backwards, frantically crossing himself.

"Oh Jesus Mary Joseph..." he babbles and drops to his knees.

"Do you believe in God, Jimmy?" I ask louder.

"I do! Of course I do! But... I don't understand... why me? I'm only an ordinary employee, there's nothing special about me... What does He want from me?"

"You are special. It's in your blood."

The floating things slowly fall back down to their original position.

"Don't give him too much information, Cas. He doesn't need to know that. Now, we'll let him ponder on that for a week. Hold on to me!"

One last glance at Jimmy who keeps talking to the microwave, and I lay my hand on my brother's shoulder, who effortlessly drags us through the time flow.

oOo

"Forgive me for insisting, Castiel, but... you never answered last time: what do I have to do? What do you want from me?"

"You'll find out when the time comes, Jimmy. It is God's will."

"Yes, of course. I understand. It isn't my place to question God's will. But..."

"Have faith, Jimmy. God will reward you for your devotion."

"I won't fail you. I'll prove my faith to you, and..."

"Hey, Novak, you losing it? You're talking to your computer, now?"

My future vessel, whose nose was almost touching the screen, sits up straight on his desk, stammering an explanation to his co-worker who just came back from his break with a cup of coffee in his hand.

oOo

"How can I be sure that this is not all just in my head? I'm epileptic, and I've had hallucinations during my seizures in the past... What if I'm imagining everything?"

Leaning over his car radio like it would be easier for me to hear him, Jimmy turns at a street corner.

"Are you doubting God and His Angels?"

"I'm not. It's only my body, my brain, that I'm doubting. You've been talking to me for almost two months now, I've heard you dozens of times and you've shown me miracles, but... I'm the only one who's seen them. I don't know if I can trust my sight and hearing, given my condition..."

"Would a miracle that your whole town would witness reassure you?"

"I.. Well, yes. But I don't want to seem like I'm..."

Biting his lip, he stops at a red light.

"Open your eyes and praise the Lord, Jimmy, for snow is about to fall."

"In the middle of September?" he asks, stunned. "With this kind of heat?"

I look up at the sky, concentrating to gather water-laden clouds just above the city, while the temperature suddenly drops. A few snowflakes start twirling as they fall, soon to be followed by many more.

Jimmy opens his car door and comes out to gaze up at the sky in awe as snow quietly falls and wraps the city in a white coat.

"It's a miracle..." he breathes out, and white mist comes out of his mouth in ephemeral swirls.

"I think he's almost ready," says Balthazar. "That's good, considering we're almost back to our original point in time."

oOo

"Do it to prove your faith. If you have faith, you won't be burned."

Jimmy glances at his boiling pot and nods. I focus to shield his arms from any effects of heat or pain as he steps purposefully towards the pot. Then, without batting an eyelid, he plunges his hand into the boiling water, holding his breath.

"Aaand... wifey's entrance in 3, 2, 1..."

"What the hell are you doing!?" yells Amelia as she walks into the kitchen.

I get up and look at Balthazar.

"What now, Balthazar? In a few hours, we'll be back in the present, and I need to get into my vessel to talk to Dean."

"Now, we wait. The missus is going to make him want to prove himself, and little Jimmy will soon be begging us to use him. Works every time. Nothing like denigration from family and friends to make them really eager to be our glorified tools. I myself have a Mormon I'm grooming right now, just for me. This guy's more stuck-up than an old nun even though he has a perfect physique, what a waste. Blond hair, beautiful blue eyes and a body to be damned. You should see it, it's hilarious: I blabbed out a strict and intolerant religious speech to seduce him. You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to enjoy myself once I get in him, keeping him fully conscious and..."

I've stopped listening to him already, watching from above as Jimmy tries to convince his wife of my existence. Hours pass, bringing us closer to the present. Soon, the sun is melting into the skyline, casting its last warm pink rays on the snow-covered roofs of the houses.

And just when Jimmy is putting on a coat to step out of the house, I can feel a force reaching for my Grace and trying to draw it again.

"I'm being summoned again," I say with a shiver of anticipation. "I don't have much time left."

I have no other choice but to go: the invocation is powerful, tied directly to my name. The name I was given at my creation, as part of my very essence.

Jimmy closes the door behind him and walks down the front alley. Snowflakes swirl around him and cling to his brown hair.

"Just about time. I have a feeling your vessel is ready for the grand leap. Be prepared to talk to him. This time, directly."

"Without electronic devices?"

"Yes, it will make the transfer easier. Exceptionally, I will help you to modulate your voice by adjusting your Grace's flow with mine - even if it's tedious. I have been watching you and I think your voice's wavelengths are too wide, and I can regulate them for you. Leave the technical triviality to me, you just have to get him to say yes."

The Human looks up to the sky where he can't see us. He seems distraught and nervous, and his cheeks are rosy from the sharp cold.

"So, I want to help you. I'm about to lose my family here if you don't tell me how . . . Please, Castiel, just talk to me. What do you want from me?"

"Showtime, Cassy! Show him a fraction of your pretty face while you're at it. He'll be too dazzled to see the details, but that should impress him."

I crouch and bend over the tiny Human. Even though I have seen on many occasions my brothers invest vessels, I still find it hard to believe that I can be contained in such a small and weak being. So different from me. I feel my Grace swirling with haste and apprehension as I slide my voice and part of my face into physical reality. Balthazar's fingers are resting on my shoulder, his Grace seeping into mine to make my voice flow smoothly.

"God chose you to assist us in a divine mission of the highest importance. And for this, I need to invest your body to operate on Earth. Once God's Will has been achieved, your body will be returned to you and you will be rewarded. Your role is critical."

"Yes, I understand. Promise my family will be okay and I'll do it."

I vividly remember the promise Anna made to Yaël. A promise is a sacred commitment, and a promise made by an Angel implicates all of Heaven.

"Your family will be safe until you get back, Jimmy. I promise you that. To show your agreement, you have to say 'yes'."

"Then... yes."

"Ready to take the plunge?" says Balthazar. "Remember what I told everyone else: focus on the blood flowing in his veins and let go."

I squint and stare into Jimmy's eyes. No Human has looked me in the eyes since Cain, and my Grace is stirring oddly. Heartbeat pulsating in harmony with it. Jimmy's heartbeat. I hear and feel blood rushing through veins, arteries, being pumped by the heart like a torrent of life and power.

Time seems to freeze as I tumble into these blue eyes invading my vision. My body dissolves, my wings melt behind my back, and suddenly I can't see or hear anything. There is nothing except the sensation of falling into the void.

oOo

Deep breath. Air rushing into lungs.

Images tearing the veil of darkness, so vivid, the infinity of the night sky spills out like a river of stars. Its dark icy blue glistens with snowflakes swirling in the autumn breeze. New sensations overflow me, searing in intensity.

Organic.

The wind like feathers in my hair and on my face.

A cold sensation on my skin and the brush of clothes covering it.

The wistful echo of a dog barking over the lonely whisper of the night.

My senses are overloaded, which makes my Grace simmer, condensed and fluid as it flows through the network of veins and arteries. Slowly I lower my eyes - only two of them now - and fold back my wings. Although immaterial, I can feel their weight as I did in my true form.

There are houses surrounding me on either side, blocking out the horizon. The same constructions that seemed so tiny to me a moment ago are now gigantic and tower over me like mountains would in my true form. Amazed by the most vivid sensations I have ever experienced in my entire life, I lift a hand close to my face. A single hand, made of bones covered with flesh, muscles, joints, tendons, skin, nails. Each finger responding perfectly to my will.

Now I understand what Anna meant when she invested Yaël's body. Having only two arms is unsettling. But in this body, product of a slow evolution and Father's masterpiece, it seems oddly natural.

I feel lighter and stronger than ever.

"Daddy?"

A clear voice rises behind me, and I gaze one last time at the ethereal sight of the night sky before turning around. Claire, the vessel Balthazar intended for me, is standing there. The soul trapped in my borrowed body grows agitated at the sound of this voice - the voice of my perfect vessel that I will surely invest someday. I tilt my head to the side, struck by the surreal vision of a Human nearly reaching my height. All my life, I have looked down to watch tiny beings crawling on the ground, and never before have I grasped the nuanced range of feelings that their eyes, their faces, their body language can convey. If I look closely, I can even make out each of her blond eyelashes and the texture of her velvety skin. But even more surprisingly...

Balthazar, why can't I see her soul?

High above the house towers Balthazar's radiant figure, gigantic and invisible to human eyes. His Grace flows like a waterfall of liquid light, and his face is so high, so far away, that I barely catch him winking at me.

"Oh. Yes. I should have explained that. A vessel has many advantages, but there are also some limitations. Not being able to see souls is one of them, as is the inside and outside maintenance. Organic is so messy..."

This is all very interesting, but I have no time to waste here - I still feel, as if linked by an invisible string to my Grace, the summoning that draws me in and grows stronger with every passing second.

Even so, I think I should inform the child. To let her believe that I am her father only because I look like him would be dishonest.

"I am not your father."

"Ugh. Just like I suspected, this body doesn't quite fit your Grace, Cassy. The voice comes out distorted. Your poor control shows through your vessel. I suppose it does have a certain manly charm. Such a shame, when your real voice is so pretty... Anyway! Why don't we pay your righteous man a visit in your brand-new meat suit?"

He's right. I don't have time to waste chatting with my future tailored vessel. The invocation will most certainly lead me to Dean Winchester - he has already proven that he has resources and knowledge unusual for a mortal.

I take a step forward and walk down the street, the fresh layer of snow on the ground crunching under my shoes. I need to get out of Claire's sight before I fly away.

"You're not coming with me, Balthazar. I want to talk to Dean alone."

"But..."

"You've got work to do in Heaven," I cut him off in a final tone of voice."You need to invest your own vessel and equip the entire Garrison. In the process, you will assign a soldier to protect this family as Guardian. That's an order."

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

I wrap Jimmy's soul with my Grace to shut out his feelings and memories until nothing filters through, and I spread my wings as I turn the corner. A simple flap is enough to launch me in the blink of an eye to my destination.

I'm standing in front of a barn door. This is where the summoning comes from, and I can distinctly hear the righteous man's voice through the walls.

"You sure you did the ritual right?"

Relieved to find out that my hearing is as good, if not better, than in my true form, I walk up to the wooden doors and raise a hand to open them.

"Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?"

I let my hand fall back down.

No. For my first contact with the righteous man, I should follow Balthazar's advice – he is the expert after all. I carried Dean's bare soul in my hand, I rebuilt his body. I saw his deepest memories, and beneath the love he feels for his brother, beneath hatred, courage, anger and terror, I felt a gaping void inside of him that he strives to fill at all costs. A void created by fatalism and a complete lack of faith.

Balthazar is right. Humans require proof, miracles, to be impressed. Dean more than anyone else. I look up at the sky dimmed by the city's lights and pollution, and I gather thick clouds charged with electricity. Then I unleash gusts of wind to shake the barn's tin roof. I lower my head again to watch the doors while the noise grows stronger. A few seconds should be enough to make an impression.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind."

The righteous man's voice sounds a little tense, but certainly not impressed. Obviously that wasn't enough. I focus on making every light in the vicinity burst out, and I slowly step forward as the wooden doors open wide before me with a sinister creaking sound. The shattered light bulbs are crackling and spraying sparks in the dark. The barn's inside is covered with protection or trapping markings, some of them intended for demons, pagan gods, or the Mother of All's creatures.

And right in the middle of this patchwork of sigils, there stands the righteous man, next to the bearded Human who came in to help him when I tried to talk to Dean in the hotel. Both are pointing guns at me, and at the very instant I shut off the electricity to stop the spark explosions, they start firing. I wrap my Grace tighter around Jimmy's soul to protect him from the pain he might feel but to which I am insensitive, and I keep on walking towards them. The bullets lodged in my vessel's flesh are made of silver. In two thousand years, hunters have made so much progress and their knowledge of the Mother's children's weak points is quite impressive. Amusingly enough, a few centuries earlier they barely had figured out how to get rid of vampires and ghouls.

When I reach them, I keep my eyes set on the righteous man who is holding a dagger behind his back. He glares at me with defiance and disbelief. Any other Human would probably have dropped to their knees or been overcome with fear. But Dean is no ordinary Human, and his gaze doesn't waver. He acts like a soldier, cold-bloodedly.

"Who are you?"

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

My reply does not seem to inspire the slightest glimmer of gratitude in him, even though my soldiers and I fought tirelessly for forty years to rescue him.

"Yeah. Thanks for that."

I can foresee his gesture before he even initiates it, but I let him. There is something comical about a Human attacking an Angel with a blade meant to kill demons, but I can't help thinking back of Cain setting my hands ablaze with fiery flames. One dominant character trait of Cain's lineage is this strong will, this stubbornness when faced with a desperate situation. The blade - forged by Lucifer's first demons - strikes straight into my vessel's heart, bringing its beats to an abrupt halt. But my Grace keeps the blood flowing unhindered.

Finally, astonishment floods into Dean's eyes as he recoils in disbelief. I believe I can see the first signs of fear in his expression. Perfect. I glance down at the blade and pull it out. It falls to the ground with a rattling sound in the silence. Impressing a Human should not fill me with such pride, but Dean is special. There are very few beings who would dare to defy an Angel. The righteous man is undoubtedly the Human of the prophecy. The one who broke, but also the one who will save Humanity. He has the strength of character. And he owes his resurrection and redemption to me, even if he can't remember it. Without me he would have become just another demon and Humanity would be doomed to extinction.

Dean's eyes shift behind me, and I know that kind of look all too well. The look of a General ordering a soldier to attack. I quickly reach behind me and grab the iron bar that the bearded Human - whose name is Bobby, according to memories of Dean I've explored - has just tried to hit me with. Ludicrous. His presence is interfering with my mission. I need to speak to the righteous man, and to him alone. That's why, with just a touch on his forehead, I push him into a deep sleep and then turn to face the target of my mission again.

"We need to talk, Dean. Alone."

I have no time to waste contemplating my artwork - this being that I have saved and rebuilt. There is a war to be fought against Hell and an Apocalypse to counter. I must save my Father's creations and prove my Garrison's worth. Also my value as a commander.

Dean is staring at me wide eyed, then he looks down at the man on the ground.

"Bobby! Bobby, can you hear me?"

With a look filled with fear and wrath, he kneels down next to Bobby, shaking his shoulder and checking his pulse, holding his breath. I take a few steps towards the table and touch the items on it with my fingertips. There is a notebook detailing the gate of Hell, its locks, and markings to contain or repel demons. I flip through it briefly - despite being secluded in Heaven for the last centuries, the Garrison was aware that a Human had built protections around the Gate. I personally had written a report at Anna's request. The hierarchy wanted to know how this Samuel Colt came to hold such advanced knowledge about demons. My observations had led me to the conclusion that Samuel Colt was merely a hunter, and not the sharpest one. Unfortunately, I couldn't provide a valid explanation for his outstanding abilities.

The righteous man's glare is on me, hostile and wary.

"Your friend is alive," I say as I keep distractedly reading.

Even centuries later, having returned an incomplete report to the hierarchy leaves me with an unpleasant sense of failure.

"Who are you?"

"Castiel."

"Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?"

I look up from the notebook. Dean is still kneeling on the ground and staring defiantly at me.

"I'm an Angel of the Lord."

The cold look in his eyes hardens, and he slowly rises to his feet.

"Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing."

There's anger in his voice. His words, while offensive, don't surprise me. Human lives are as short as their memory, and while two thousand years for us is only a brief span of our time, it was enough to turn into myth and legend what once was. And yet, some Humans still believe - like Jimmy - and their Faith shines in their souls like beacons. Dean is not one of them. This bottomless pit I felt inside of him was shaped by his life's tragic events, but also and especially by a severe lack of Faith. And Faith is something I consider essential to the success of his mission. After all, how could he possibly be doing my Father's work and saving all his kind from Lucifer if he doesn't believe?

"This is your problem, Dean. You have no Faith."

Once again, I do exactly as Balthazar advised, and concentrate on bringing lightning bolts out of the clouds gathered high in the sky, while spreading my wings behind my back for him to see their shadow. Judging by the subtle change in his eyes, it seems to be working. I clear out the clouds from the sky with and carefully fold my wings back.

"Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes."

I look down, my Grace bubbling with annoyance in my vessel's veins. I knew this incident would put my contact with the righteous man at risk. And it would never have happened if I'd listened to Balthazar and immediately agreed to take a vessel as he suggested.

But after all, it was her own recklessness that got this woman injured. I'm not to blame.

"I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be... overwhelming to Humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that."

"You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking?"

I gravely nod, trying to get used to having to look up at a Human, when for millions of years I have looked down to watch them as tiny dots at my feet. Inhabiting this body brings me a new way of perceiving my Father's masterpieces. And while I can't see his soul, watching emotions flash through his green eyes is quite similar.

"Buddy, next time, lower the volume."

This is mortifying. I've always been a skilled Garrison soldier, particularly talented when it comes to human memory - never before have I ever been bad at anything. And in just a few days time, I found myself severely lacking in voice modulation and time travel abilities. As the General of the Garrison, this is very embarrassing.

However, if Cain's bloodline were not so diminished, I would never have had this problem.

"That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong."

And if he could see what I really look like, Dean certainly wouldn't be staring at me with barely concealed insolence.

"And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?"

I look down at my bullet-ridden vessel whose stabbed heart no longer beats. Numbed within my Grace, Jimmy's soul is gently pulsing, and I make it sink deeper into oblivion.

"This? This is a vessel."

"You're possessing some poor bastard?"

Dean is a hunter with a long history of battling demons who use innocent people as human shields. I can see why the very idea of possession would upset him. I myself never really endorsed the idea of vessels, ever since Adam and Eve's time. Hence my reluctance to take one. And the only reason I'm now walking the earth in this form is because I have no other choice, and the hierarchy wants us all to have one.

We're nothing like demons, though. We need the vessel's consent, and not only do we use them to carry out God's Will, but we also return them intact to their lives once the mission is accomplished. So I quickly reassure him.

"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this. "

"Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?"

What? After all the proof I showed him, he still doesn't believe me? Did he even listen to anything I said?

"I told you."

Didn't I make it clear enough that I'm an Angel? Why does he keep doubting against all evidence?

"Right. And why would an angel rescue me from hell?"

Oh.

I understand now. His lack of Faith is again feeding his pessimism, made worse by his suffering in Hell. I come closer, my eyes fixed on his.

"Good things do happen, Dean."

And in his troubled eyes, I can see his raw soul and this bottomless pit. The righteous man lives in a dark and meaningless world, with no God, no Destiny, no purpose to his life. Poor man. Living without faith, without conviction, and hating himself for nearly having become a demon... It must be hard, for a Human.

"Not in my experience."

No. There is something else, deeper.

"What's the matter?"

Dean may not believe in anything, but he's important to the Lord, otherwise He wouldn't have sent us to rescue him. He is essential, indispensable, and destined to save Humanity. He's probably the most worthy person in the world to be saved. And yet...

"… You don't think you deserve to be saved."

I can tell by the look on his face that I am right.

"Why'd you do it?"

No time for compassion. I have a mission to carry out.

"Because God commanded it."

Castiel!

I ignore Zedekiel's voice that just echoed through my head. I'm on a priority mission. This is not the time. I have the righteous man's full attention and I can finally tell him about his role in this war.

"Because we have work for you."

Dean is staring at me, frowning.

CASTIEL!

Zedekiel's voice is growing more urgent, but whatever his problem is, he can wait a few more minutes.

"I see how it is. My get-out-of-jail-free card wasn't exactly free, that what you mean? What kind of work?"

Castiel, please come, I'm begging you! Ephra is dead!

I feel my Grace freezing in my veins as I blink.

No. That's impossible.

I snap my wings open and fly away without giving the righteous man an answer, without even a last glance. The situation is critical, and I have much more important things to do than to answer a Human's questions.

oOo

In the next chapter (will be updated on Sunday, July 12th)

"I figured the goat joke was getting redundant and we needed some new material."

"Indeed, we really needed new jokes. We've been laughing about the goat for at least three or four millennia. It was time to move on!"

"The goat joke is perfectly fine. We don't need another one. And at least the goat joke is funny."