Previously: Castiel is fighting the war against demons as best he can with insufficient resources, but his soldiers are dying, the hierarchy blames him for the Garrison's failures and seals break one by one. A mission sends Castiel into the past with Levanael and Dean, and he realizes that the Winchester misfortunes were planned by the hierarchy, and that he personally brought the curse on Dean. Overcome by doubt, Castiel is starting to question the orders he receives…

This chapter takes place in season 4 episode 7.

oOo

Samhain

I mark the last page of my report on the state of the seals with my Grace, snap it shut and reach out to grab another file from the pile that keeps growing taller on my desk. I have no idea how Anna managed to balance all the paperwork and dealing with subordinates, missions and fieldwork. I keep falling behind in my duties. But perhaps this is all because of the upcoming Apocalypse.

I narrow my eyes to read the sheet of paper in my hand, which begins, as required by procedure, with about a hundred lines praising the Lord. It is Htmorda's report from yesterday, which I read through quickly, just to make sure that Sam Winchester has not gone back to drinking demon blood and that the righteous man is unharmed. Hunters' lives are so often hanging by a thread.

Three knocks on the door pull me out of the extensive description of endless battles against ghosts, shapeshifters and other creatures of the Mother of All. Holding my palm above the file, I sign and close it sharply.

"Come in."

The intruder waves his hand to close the door behind him without touching it. More than three weeks have passed since I came back from Hell and the new recruits were assigned. Now I know the names, vessels, strengths and weaknesses of these two hundred new soldiers under my command. And under the human shell with the short black hair and fringe - Andrew Milligan, physiotherapist - I recognize the Angel in charge of batrachians. Outstanding warrior, ruthless and efficient.

"Izraz. What are you doing here?"

Htmorda's report joins the thin pile of completed files. Izraz is staring at me unblinkingly as he walks up to my desk.

"I have some information that should be of interest to you."

I nod to incite him to pursue, and seize another file that needs to be approved before being sent to Administration.

"I'm listening. Keep it short."

"One of my seals has been broken while I was helping Virgil who needed backup. And the demons who destroyed it were arguing about an Angel killing weapon."

I look up sharply, slowly putting back my file. The part about the broken seal isn't surprising - demon attacks might have become less frequent, but they have also become more violent and better planned. I have no idea how they manage to know exactly which seal is left undefended and when, but that's yet another matter of concern. Overall, forty-three seals have been broken. The easiest and weakest seals. Now, those that remain take hours, days, sometimes years of preparation to break them. It will no longer be as easy for demons to reach them without us knowing.

What sparks my curiosity is...

"Did you say a weapon to kill us?"

Izraz nods and raises one hand, palm up.

"You are certainly aware that I'm in charge of batrachians and that I have mastered the ability to see and hear through the ones I have created myself."

To prove his point, he materializes on his palm a toad, which stares at me, swelling its throat with a loud croaking sound. Izraz carefully lays his creation on my desk.

"I have used this ability in our mission by positioning one of my proteges next to each of the seals under my responsibility. This gives me insight and no demon can come close to one of them without my knowledge. They are my eyes and ears."

The batrachian bounces up on a pile of files, still staring at me. Its throat swells again loudly in my silent office. I break eye contact with the creature and refocus my attention on my soldier.

"Clever. That didn't keep your seal from being broken, though."

"Indeed. I saw the enemy attack through its eyes, but I couldn't leave Virgil to face the demons alone. There were too many of them."

"And you heard the demons talking about a..."

"... about a weapon in their possession that kills Angels in a definite way. I'm positive, that's what they said."

Now that's a weight off my shoulders. This confirms that Baradiel was wrong. The demons are to blame, no one else. All I have to do now is to get the information from Alastair or Lilith to seize and neutralize this weapon.

The toad croaks just when a notification rings in my Grace, alerting me that I have Revelations to receive urgently.

"Thank you, Izraz. You may leave."

My soldier spreads his wings and disappears immediately, leaving his batrachian on my desk. I share a long look with it. Its eyes are glassy and there's something about them that is making me uncomfortable.

I decide to ignore it, and close my eyes to let the flow of commands wash over me. All reality fades away. All there is left are orders and Duty, vibrating through my entire being. Images and sounds fill my holy spirit, carrying confusing and unusual instructions. A crucial seal is endangered, right in the heart of a city - not a desert, an ocean or a mountain, as is often the case. More than a thousand innocent lives are at stake. And... the orders are to do whatever the righteous man commands. Dean Winchester will have to decide what happens to the city - one word from him, and I will have no choice but to tell Uriel to destroy it.

Without the slightest explanation to rationalize this strange decision, the stream of Revelations drains away and I recover the sensations of my vessel. My Grace fluidifies, flowing freely again. Confused, I open my eyes again, and find Balthazar casually sitting on the edge of my desk, poking the croaking and jumping toad.

"Ah, welcome back. Were you receiving Revelations?"

I resignedly try to put some order on my desk.

"What is the reason for your coming, Balthazar?"

"You mean I need a reason to pay a visit to my favorite little brother, now?"

I don't bother to grant him a reply. Instead, I pick up the toad and hand it over to him.

"Leave, I have work to do. And get rid of this for me, too."

Balthazar elegantly arches an eyebrow and takes the creature with a disgusted frown.

"Oh. One of the Frog's slimy little spies. Izraz keeps planting them everywhere, it's so annoying. One of these days, I'll stick one up where the sun never shines."

Smiling, he ruffles my hair with the tip of his wing and flies away in a rustle of feathers, taking away the unwelcome batrachian.

Once I am alone, a new notification stirs my Grace, and I clench my fists in irritation when I find out I got a warning for violating quite a few of the rules. Clearly, the hierarchy strongly disapproves of my decision to assign a Guardian on my own authority to Dean Winchester, because that's a high-level function that can only be given to a high ranked Angel - a rule that has apparently existed for a millennium and that I had no knowledge of. The notification invites me to take on the role of Guardian myself from now on, and postpones my advancement in the ranks by a century. I have already way too much work to do as it is, it's absurd to add such a heavy responsibility to my many duties!

Let's leave this for now, I have to focus on my new mission. Uriel has to come with me because he may have to destroy the city.

Uriel, come to my office, right now.

Even though I have held his soul in my hand, bathed in his memories and rebuilt his body from scratch, I am unable to predict what Dean Winchester's decision will be. Will he choose to sacrifice a thousand lives of strangers to save his species?

I shut my eyes for a moment, praying, pleading to my Father. This war has already caused too many unnecessary sacrifices. All I can do is hope that the righteous man won't make me give the order to destroy this city. I have no desire to add the lives of these innocent people to my list of regrets and orders that I have reluctantly obeyed.

I am aware that compassion is inappropriate in times of war, and I have no idea what decision my Father would consider to be right. But I can only pray that Dean will show the kind of mercy that the hierarchy never once displayed.

A flap of wings.

"Castiel." That's Uriel's voice, deep and warm as always. "How may I help you?"

I turn my head to my brother, he's looking at me with a hint of a smile, hands deep in his pockets.

"I just received Revelations. We have a mission together, Uriel."

Uriel raises his eyebrows, his smile broadening.

"Oh. Just like old times, hm? What is the mission?"

I avert my eyes. I know my brother well enough to sense that taking orders from a Human will most likely offend him.

"You're going to hate this."

oOo

"I hate this."

With a frown of disgust, Uriel looks around in the hotel room currently rented by the Winchester brothers. There are clothes on hangers and an open bag resting on a chair.

"This place reeks of monkey bodily fluids."

I squint and smell the air too. In addition to all the organic scents that this room has collected over the years, there is something else much harder to detect.

"Not just that," I say in a low voice. "It smells like sulfur and power."

I walk past Uriel to brush the faded wallpaper with my fingertips. My hand slips into the ephemeral parallel reality, just enough to penetrate the wall structure and pull out a small bag of tanned leather.

"Sorcery," I whisper.

Sorcery is quite a new phenomenon. It has been around for five or six millennia at most, resulting from pacts made by Humans with demons like Samhain who taught them spells. Born out of power lust and the darkness of human hearts.

Uriel chuckles.

"Looks like your pets already managed to piss off Samhain's follower."

"Which means they are on her trail. Maybe they've already killed the witch?"

Should the Winchester brothers have already eliminated the target, our mission will no longer be relevant and this seal will be secure for many years to come. That would be excellent news.

"You think too highly of these puny creatures, Castiel. I say we nuke this city before the seal breaks and call it a day."

"This is exactly what we need to make Dean believe we're going to do. But should he order us otherwise, we will have to obey him."

Uriel snorts and puts his hands in his pockets while I undo the spell in the bag and put it on the bedside table between the two beds.

"Obey a mortal. I think it's the most absurd order I've ever received. In my entire life."

"Dean is not an ordinary mortal."

And I can only hope that he will stand up to us, that he will speak out just like he did in our last encounter. The righteous man is brave and arrogant, almost recklessly so. I pray that my threat to send him back to Hell was not enough to crush his insolence, which had irritated me so much three weeks earlier.

It is strange to think that not so long ago - after the Neanderthals went extinct - I would have watched the Humans perish unblinkingly and without a shred of pity. Perhaps even with satisfaction, since at the time I had hoped for their demise and did not deem them worthy of survival. Everything is so different today. I have grown to love Humanity, and I no longer wish to see my Father's finest works of art destroyed.

The sound of a car pulling over can be heard in the distance.

"He broke the first seal, what a great Human indeed!" Uriel sneers. "And he is supposedly meant to defeat Lucifer should he be released. Do you actually believe that? A stupid little monkey, defeating an Archangel? Nonsense. How could he?"

"I don't know. But it is written."

I look up at my brother. He's staring at me unblinkingly, unsmiling.

A deep kind of sadness overwhelms me as we share a look. We used to be so close. Is this new gap between us due to my rank as Garrison General?

No... Uriel has grown distant since Camael's death. Perhaps earlier still, when Siosp was executed. This isn't new.

I suddenly miss our quiet complicity and long for those peaceful times when my brother would come to spend time with me and we would watch the crawling fish on the ground. It seems so far away now...

"You've changed, Uriel," I say in a whisper.

Uriel doesn't bat an eyelash and keeps staring at me, his lips pressed together. Then he slowly turns around and steps heavily towards the window, as though his vessel is hindering his movements. His wings are tucked up in his back, the ethereal tips of his feathers grazing the tiled floor. Pale daylight filtering through the curtains makes them glisten.

I pensively sit down on one of the two beds, distant memories rushing back to me, reminding me of my early centuries, at a time when everything seemed so simple and easy.

"Do you remember..." A smile grazes my lips. "Do you remember that fish that ended up hanging on the top of a tree because it fought out of an eagle's claws?"

I get no answer, and I lean forward to rest my elbows on my knees, hands clasped together.

"And the Tower of Babel? Balthazar won his bet against Zedekiel." I let out a broken laugh. "And the goat?"

"You've changed as well, Castiel," Uriel's voice cuts me short. "We all have. Those times are over and won't ever come back."

My smile fades away and I grow silent, staring at the nape of his smooth and powerful neck.

"Your Humans are coming. Htmorda is with them. Stop dwelling on the past and get ready to play your part in this pretense."

I can't bring myself to reprimand my brother for his blatant disrespect of my rank.

"How did it come to this, Uriel?"

"Things have changed."

There is nothing left for me to say.

Behind me, I can hear the door opening and Sam Winchester's voice calling out.

"Who are you?!"

"Sam, Sam! Wait!" That's the righteous man's voice. "It's Castiel. The angel."

I slowly stand up and walk over to the Winchester brothers who are followed by Htmorda as their shadow, still invisible to mortal eyes. I'm instantly mesmerized by Sam's face. I hadn't yet had the chance to see him with my own eyes, face to face, in full light. Neither he nor any of the other children who had been contaminated by Azazel's blood. They all died before I could see them.

Fascinating.

"Him, I don't know," says Dean as he glances at Uriel, who hasn't stirred a limb yet.

"Hello, Sam."

The Human with demon blood is taller than the righteous man, but the most striking thing about him is the dark aura he radiates, and his face... It is not a demon's face, no. It doesn't look like a possessed Human's face either – for these ones, the demon's features are overlapping, like a thick, slimy mask. In Sam Winchester's case, I am unable to tell apart the line between Human and demon. In millions of years of existence, I have never seen anything like it. The expressions on his features are shifting: amazed and smiling for a second, then distorted into a demonic and evil sneer. Pale skin lined with black veins, eyes sunk into their sockets and shadows hollowing out his cheeks.

A unique creature, whose human nature is totally intertwined with demonic putrefaction.

"Oh my God..." Sam breathes out. "Er – uh – I didn't mean to – sorry. It's an honor."

He hastily puts away his gun as he walks up to me. There is a faint smell of sulfur coming from him. Not like a demon's, but close enough to make my wings clench behind my back.

"Really. I – I've heard a lot about you."

He holds out his hand to me and I stare at it indecisively. By his side, Htmorda raises an eyebrow, looking back and forth at Uriel and me.

Is it advisable to touch a Human with demon blood? What would happen if I were to attempt to exorcise the demonic part in him? I suppose it would kill him. If a cure was possible for these children, we would probably have received an order to do so decades earlier.

I guess I should leave now, right?

Htmorda sounds uncomfortable, glancing nervously at Uriel. He looks uneasy too. This isn't like him.

You may go, I reply without opening my mouth.

I don't have to tell him twice, Htmorda immediately disappears, looking almost relieved to do so. His duty as a Guardian is officially mine from now on anyway.

Sam is staring at me with his captivating, shifting face, his hand still held out to me. I finally decide to take it. The contact does not trigger any kind of reaction, which is a relief. The skin is warm and smooth, completely normal to the touch.

"And I, you. Sam Winchester. The boy with the demon blood."

I lay my other hand on top of his, watching with growing curiosity his altered features, neither human nor demonic, and his expressions, which never cease to shift between surprise, respect, hatred and ferocity. I guess his appearance would be much more hideous and warped if he were still drinking demon blood.

"Glad to see you've ceased your extracurricular activities," I congratulate him.

"Let's keep it that way," comments Uriel with a commanding voice.

Like many of my brothers in Heaven, Uriel views Sam Winchester as an abomination, suspicious and bound to the enemy by his tainted blood. As for me, the uncommon condition of this direct descendant of Cain pokes my interest and fascinates me more than it sparks any kind of animosity. Sam is a victim of Azazel first, and the righteous man's brother.

"Yeah, okay, Chuckles. Who's your friend?" asks Dean.

I gently let go of the young Winchester's hand. I keep my eyes fixed on Sam's twisted face, entranced, while I reply to the righteous man.

"The raising of Samhain, have you stopped it? "

Sam seems lost - I'm only just starting to make out his true facial expressions under the distortions caused by his demonic blood.

"Why?" Dean snaps back aggressively.

I take my eyes off Sam and finally turn my head to look at Dean for the first time since he walked into the hotel room. He looks smaller, standing next to his brother. He's frowning and his jaw is clenched.

"Dean, have you located the witch?"

"Yes, we've located the witch."

"And is the witch dead?"

"No, but –" says Sam, agitated.

"We know who it is," Dean continues, raising his eyebrows and forcing a smile on his face.

I wouldn't know whether his tone is smug or impertinent.

"Apparently the witch knows who you are too." I walk over to the bedside table and show them the hex bag I pulled from the wall, whose spell has been deactivated. "This was inside the wall of your room. If we hadn't found it, surely one or both of you would be dead."

Dean's smile is gone, and he's averting his gaze. Seems like he can't think of a clever retort this time.

"Do you know where the witch is now?"

The two brothers share a look.

"We're working on it," says Dean.

Which means that all hope of smoothly saving the seal is lost.

"That's unfortunate," I say as I look over to Uriel who stands still like a statue.

I must carry out my mission, tell Dean about the destruction of the town, hoping that he will be bold enough to stand up to us.

"What do you care?" says Dean with his usual nerve.

Looks like Uriel is just going to let me handle the whole conversation. I guess he's not too keen on talking to Humans. Or maybe he resents me for stirring up the past. After all, as a General, this is my duty. Anna usually was the only one to speak to the Humans in person, and I never had that opportunity myself until I pulled Dean Winchester out of Hell.

I turn my head to look at the two Humans again - it seems like Sam doesn't share his elder brother's inclination for insolence, at least.

"The raising of Samhain is one of the 66 seals," I say.

"So this is about your buddy Lucifer."

Uriel's deep voice rises instantly in reply.

"Lucifer is no friend of ours."

"It's just an expression," Dean flatly explains.

I need to get this mission over with. Praying that Dean won't make me kill more than a thousand innocents whose deaths will weigh as heavily on his conscience as mine, I walk closer so I can read the feelings through his eyes.

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

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

Well, had it been so simple, the Garrison would have won the war long ago. Dean's suggestion cannot be considered an order. The mission's objective is clear: we must obey the righteous man's orders, whatever they may be, or destroy the city if he gives us none. It's not that easy to direct the conversation to lead him to give us a clear and precise order, without revealing what his role is in this mission.

Why does it have to be so complicated?

"We are not omniscient. This witch is very powerful, she's cloaked even our methods."

"Okay, well we already know who she is," says Sam. "so if we work together –"

What a shame that Sam is not part of the equation. If Dean were to order us to work with him, we would have to obey.

"Enough of this!" snaps Uriel.

"Okay, who are you and why should I care?" asks Dean, irritably.

Uriel finally turns around and I cast him a warning glance. I know my brother's bias. He has always favored radical methods and scoffed at sophisticated strategies. And large-scale destruction to pound the enemy is one of his greatest satisfactions. I'm convinced that he intentionally interrupted Sam to prevent Dean from agreeing with him and possibly giving us the order that I'm hoping for. He just wouldn't stand working with them.

Uriel hasn't had a chance to destroy anything for thousands of years, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he's itching to unleash his destructive power.

I don't condone this inclination of his, yet I've never spoken out.

"This is Uriel," I say to introduce my brother. "He's what you might call a… specialist."

Uriel heavily strides forward, his outstretched wings spreading through the room's walls.

"What kind of specialist?" Dean asks warily.

I share a long look with Uriel.

Let's get this over with, Castiel, his growling voice echoes into my head. You're only delaying the inevitable.

Uriel is right, of course. I really don't want to have to watch this city fall into ashes, and it's holding me back.

"What are you gonna do?"

Dean's voice takes my eyes off my brother's three purple eyes, floating in a glowing mist in front of his vessel's face.

"You, both of you, you need to leave this town immediately. "

"Why?" asks the righteous man in a demanding tone.

"Because we're about to destroy it."

I meant to watch how he reacts, but I can't hold his gaze any longer. It makes me uncomfortable to betray Dean's trust and deceive him even more than I already have. I pray that he will show the compassion that I have so long sought from above, in vain.

"So this is your plan, you're gonna smite the whole friggin' town?" Dean blurts out.

"We're out of time," I declaim, using the most neutral voice I can muster. "This witch has to die, the seal must be saved."

"There are a thousand people here," Sam intervenes.

"One thousand two hundred fourteen," says Uriel with obvious delight.

"And you're willing to kill them all?"

There is indignation mixed with disbelief in Sam's voice. But his opinion is not what we need. The orders are clear: we must follow Dean Winchester's orders, no one else's.

"This isn't the first time I've… purified a city," Uriel says flatly.

I remember walls of blazing fire, falling ash, the smell of death and massive explosions blasting away all life from the ground. Uriel almost single-handedly destroyed Sodom – all we did was assist him, really. Also, his power devastated a large portion of this continent during the last Apocalypse. Though not comparable to an Archangel, Uriel is probably the most lethal Angel in Heaven.

Destroying this little town will be child's play for him.

"Look." I turn my attention back to Dean, hoping to get the reaction I need from him. "I understand this is regrettable."

"Regrettable?" Dean repeats with barely concealed sarcasm.

"We have to hold the line. Too many seals have broken already."

"So you screw the pooch on some seals and this town has to pay the price?"

"It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion. There's a bigger picture here."

Objectively, this is true. Destroying the town would save the seal for sure. But I would like to avoid such a sacrifice. What Samandriel said still rings in my head. If he speaks the truth, that the Apocalypse day is written, then this war and all my efforts are pointless. If Lucifer breaks free, Earth will face consequences just like in the past. And these Humans, this town, these innocent souls... everything will perish.

Why should we bring their last moments of peaceful life to an early end, if Humanity is doomed to face a new Apocalypse anyway? Why add this extra burden on the righteous man's shoulders, when he has already endured so much and will have to suffer even more in the future?

I don't know what to think anymore. Is it selfish and foolish of me to wish to spare lives that are already lost? Just so that they can live a few more months or years in happiness and ignorance?

"Right, cause you're bigger picture kind of guys."

This is most inconvenient. The righteous man keeps using sarcasm and criticism, and doesn't provide a solution. He still won't give the orders I need from him.

I move closer, staring into his eyes to make sure I can measure the impact of my words. I need to find the right words to trigger the required reaction from him, without revealing the slightest clue as to my actual intention.

"Lucifer cannot rise. He does and hell rises with him. Is that something that you're willing to risk?"

Emotions I can barely identify are darkening the righteous man's eyes. He averts his gaze and the reaction I had hoped for doesn't come. No words come out of his mouth. Is he balancing the pros and cons and considering destroying this town?

It can't be... He's known as a righteous man, surely he will choose to save the town... or won't he?

"We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone." Sam, the boy with demon blood, is the one giving the answer that I wanted to hear from Dean's mouth. "Your seal won't be broken and no one has to die."

As for Dean Winchester, he seems to have lost his usual overly hung tongue. Perhaps he will second his brother's wise proposal? All he would have to do is repeat what Sam just said!

"We're wasting time with these mud monkeys," says Uriel with obvious disgust.

So this is it, then. I expected more from Dean. I thought I had sensed in him virtue, purity of soul and selfless compassion, in spite of what he endured and inflicted to others in Hell for four decades.

I failed my mission. For lack of an order from the righteous man, I will have to give the destruction order to Uriel.

I have to accept this. Once again, a human city will be wiped out to remove a threat. But this time, the order will come from me, and I will bear the burden of guilt like never before. All Uriel is waiting for is my approval to unleash his destructive power.

"I'm sorry, but we have our orders."

"No, you can't do this!" Sam exclaims, sounding desperate. "You're angels. I mean aren't you supposed to – You're supposed to show mercy!"

My Grace is moving slowly in my vessel's veins as I share a glance with Uriel, who looks halfway between amusement and sourness.

The youngest Winchester's words have no effect on me. They're useless, coming from him. From the righteous man's mouth, they could have saved this town.

"Says who?" says Uriel, his voice laced with sarcasm.

I feel empty. I'm tired of all of this. What's the point of hoping? There is nothing to hope for anymore. The Apocalypse is nigh, and this town is about to get a first taste of it. All I can do is to honor my rank and my Garrison by obeying orders. By clinging to what's left of my Faith in Father's Plan.

I might as well get it over with.

"We have no choice."

"Of course you have a choice!" Dean snaps back. "I mean, come on, what? You've never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, just a couple of hammers?"

I can feel my wings tensing behind my back, but I do my best to keep my gaze steady and not to react. Oh yes, I have. I have questioned an order before. Several times, even though I've never expressed it out loud. It's a shameful, slithering secret hidden deep inside of me. A secret that I will never be able to reveal, even less now that I have responsibilities, soldiers at my command.

Humans have this annoying inclination to see blind obedience as a lack of bravery or strength - and Dean's tone certainly implies this - even though obedience is a vital part of our essence, the very reason for our existence. Would admitting my... doubts... be enough to gain the righteous man's trust and complete my mission?

No. Out of question. Uriel's piercing gaze is on me, vigilant and inquisitive. My brothers would never understand. And still... doubt is a repulsive sin, of course, but... my doubts do not in any way hinder my loyalty and devotion. Obeying despite these haunting interrogations requires even more loyalty and devotion. Being a hammer was so much easier, in the old times...

"Look, even if you can't understand it, have Faith. The Plan is just."

"How can you even say that?" says Sam indignantly, baffled.

I turn to look at Sam's distorted face, sunken eye sockets, dark veins and shifting expressions.

"Because it comes from Heaven, that makes it just."

There is a self-assurance in my voice that I haven't experienced for thousands of years. Ever since Camael's death, to be precise. What would the Winchester brothers think if they found out that we are involved in their family's misfortune? Without my intervention, Azazel would never have set his sights on their mother. We are to blame for their misery and for the upcoming Apocalypse, as agents of Fate.

"Oh, it must be nice, to be so sure of yourselves."

Anger builds up in me as I look at Dean's disdainful face. He had been raised by his father like a soldier, almost like an Angel of the Lord. I saw it in his memories. Just like me, he has always obeyed without question - I thought he would relate.

"Tell me something, Dean, when your father gave you an order, didn't you obey?"

I can't tell what flashes through his eyes, but what he says next gives me hope.

"Well sorry boys, looks like the plans have changed."

"You think you can stop us?"

Uriel's deep voice draws the righteous man's attention off me, and I turn my head too to glare at my brother. There is a smirk on his vessel's lips and he's ignoring me, eyes fixed on Dean who's walking to him with confidence.

"No, but if you're gonna smite this whole town, then you're gonna have to smite us with it, because we're not leaving."

Look at him, look at your puny Human, Uriel's voice echoes through my head. So arrogant and threatening, as though an insect like him had the slightest chance against us. Pathetic.

"See, you went to the trouble of busting me out of hell. I figure I'm worth something to the man upstairs."

Uriel, I say directly into my brother's mind. The righteous man chose to save the town. We must obey him.

His derisory laugh rings inside my head.

He didn't order us to do anything. How long do you plan to stand here, waiting for him to say the words you're so eager to hear?

"So you wanna waste me?" continues Dean, to Uriel's apparent silence. "Go ahead, see how he digs that."

"I will drag you out of here myself."

Uriel is no longer smiling and doesn't seem amused at all. His patience is clearly running out.

"Yeah, but you'll have to kill me," Dean retorts defiantly. "Then we're back to the same problem."

I look unblinkingly at the back of Dean's head. This is so frustrating. All it would take is a few words from him to save this city, and I have no way to make him understand that.

"I mean, come on, you're gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch? Sounds to me like you're compensating for something. "

Compensating? For what? What does he mean?

"We can do this." The righteous man walks up to me with such authority, worthy of a General. "We will find that witch and we will stop the summoning."

He seems so self-assured. His eyes into mine are unwavering and his tone of voice suggests an order that won't take no for an answer. Finally.

"Castiel! I will not let these –"

Without taking my eyes off Dean, I raise a commanding hand to silence Uriel and remind him of his rank.

"Enough!" Then, to Dean, "I suggest you move quickly."

I open my wings while Dean swallows and nods, and fly away along with Uriel.

We appear in a park just a few hundred meters from the hotel where the Winchesters are staying. There is a breeze rustling through the tree leaves above us.

"One more seal lost to us," spits Uriel as he sits heavily on a bench. "That was worth dragging him out of Hell!"

I cross my hands behind my back and look down at him, but he stubbornly keeps staring ahead, his wings floating through the bench and diving into the ground behind him.

"Nothing is lost yet. They might be able to stop the invocation in time and save the seal."

Uriel gives off a dismissive sniff, when a child in disguise - as is customary at this time of year, it would seem - holds out a small orange bucket full of candy to us.

"Trick or treat!" sing-songs the chubby redheaded child.

He looks just like Rzionr Nrzfm's vessel, but younger. He's wearing some kind of see-through helmet encircling his head.

"Get out of here," Uriel snarls, glaring at him.

A threatening and crushing aura of energy erupts around him, and the human child opens large, scared eyes and runs away on his short legs.

"Calm down, Uriel."

Uriel leans back on the bench.

"Calm down? Do you plan to stop the Apocalypse by standing idly by while a seal is being broken before our very eyes?"

I look back at the dressed up Humans walking in the park and the children laughing and happily chasing each other. There is the same kind of quiet joy in the air that reigns in my favorite Paradise. And this peaceful landscape won't be burned to the ground, not today.

"The decision has been made."

Uriel scoffs.

"By a mud monkey!"

Hairless apes, monkeys, primates... Uriel clearly has no intention of ever stopping to insult them.

"You shouldn't call them that."

"It's what they are, savages, just plumbing on two legs."

I cast him a warning glance. Has he forgotten what Michael said when we all bowed down before Adam and Eve? Father created Humans in His own image. To insult them is to insult the Lord.

"You're close to blasphemy."

Uriel merely sighs, averting his eyes.

"There's a reason we were sent to save him. He has potential, he may succeed here."

No need to elaborate. Uriel knows what I mean. If Dean Winchester proves himself today, he might be able to defeat Lucifer as well. It seems to me that this is the only logical explanation. Why else would the hierarchy want to have him face this situation, this choice? The righteous man's abilities as a soldier are being tested.

I sit next to my brother who tucks back his left wing to avoid touching me. In the past, he would have patted me on the shoulder with it, or wrapped it all around me.

"At any rate, it's out of our hands."

"It doesn't have to be," says Uriel flatly.

"And what would you suggest?"

"That we drag Dean Winchester out of here and then we blow this insignificant pinprick off the map!"

I can feel my Grace freezing in my veins. Disobedience. Uriel is suggesting an insurrection.

"You know our true orders." I turn my head to look at him, trying my best not to let anything show on my face, even though my Grace is simmering in my vessel. "Are you prepared to disobey?"

Uriel stiffens and stares at me intensely, growing silent. Bright in the evening shadows, his true face looks both offended and hesitant. For a brief moment, some kind of odd exhilaration overwhelms me as I wait for an answer from my brother-in-arms, my oldest friend. Could he be dealing with the same hesitations and doubts as I am? What should I do if he happens to be in the same situation as I am? With him by my side, everything would be different. Less terrifying.

"Of course not," Uriel's deep voice rises in the silence.

I press my lips together as I watch a few children running by, while Uriel rests his chin on his crossed hands. He's staring in the distance, as though caught in a deep thought.

No. Uriel can't understand me and neither can my other siblings. The only ones who could possibly have been able to were Camael, Siosp and Anna. I'm alone.

oOo

The neon light paints the chairs and tables in red and blue. My Grace becomes fluid and I get my sensory efficiency back, making the music audible.

Soldiers passing by

Listening to the wind of change

I fold back my wings in a rustle of feathers and take a look at the counter. I slide my hand on the wooden surface, trying to assess the new information I've received from Revelations and what it entails.

The world is closing in

Did you ever think

That we could be so close

Like brothers

What has just been revealed to me confirms my belief that Adam and Eve's bloodline is definitely cursed. Abel's death may have happened thousands of years earlier, the tragic fate waiting for Sam and Dean feels unpleasantly familiar.

I understand now. Uriel was right. Dean is nothing more than a Human, in no way able to defeat Lucifer. All he's meant to be is a weapon, a vessel perfectly suited to Michael's Grace, whereas Sam ... Sam will be Lucifer's.

The two brothers are intended to fight each other and one will have to kill the other. And I know how much Sam and Dean care about each other. At least as much as Cain and Abel once did.

My hand closes into a fist on the counter.

All of this has, apparently, been planned in high places for more than two thousand years. It is only my current rank and my new position as Guardian that allows me to be informed today, since I must protect Michael's vessel for the Apocalypse to come. I am bound to be deeply involved in the impending battle.

The future's in the air

I can feel it everywhere

Blowing with the wind of change

Uriel was right about this too. The summoning of Samhain marks one more step to Lucifer getting free. The Winchester brothers failed in their mission, for even though Samhain was finally sent back to Hell, the seal was broken.

I didn't get any clues and I still don't know what the hierarchy was expecting from Dean in this test. Was he supposed to choose to save the seal, or the town? And why even test a mere vessel? I once again fail to understand the orders I get...

The only order they gave me was to send a warning to Sam Winchester, who used his demonic powers to stop Samhain, even though we forbade him to use them.

I take my hand off the counter and snap my fingers to switch on the bar lights. There is some smoke in the air, but no one is there. The jukebox is quietly sizzling as I breathe in. It smells like blood, beer and peanuts.

Take me to the magic of the moment

On a glory night...

I ignore the music and lean against the counter.

Htmorda, Uriel, Zedekiel, come over here immediately.

I didn't even think of using the regular terms to summon my soldiers. I am fully aware that the Winchesters will go to Heaven when they die and that their sorrows will be greatly compensated, yet I can't help but feel sorry for Dean. Did I raise him from Hell only to throw the curse on his family? so that he could watch helplessly while Sam dies at his own hand, unless Lucifer murders him first with Sam's hand?

"Castiel? That's an unusual place for a meeting."

Along with a flutter of wings, Htmorda's deep voice covers the music as he walks into sight, looking at the bar with narrow black eyes. Curly and thick on his squared face, his beard cannot hide the metal rings piercing his lip, nose and ears. The chain dangling from his belt makes a clicking sound with each heavy step. Next to him appear Uriel, then Zedekiel who brushes back a blonde lock of hair behind his ear.

"The meeting room 1050 has been booked for the entire year by Brap's division," I explain, staring at my three soldiers.

Finding out in the schedule boards that my meeting room was occupied was hardly a surprise to me. I remember Anna mentioning on several occasions that some division heads, and specifically Brap, were trying to anger her in similar ways. Never mind. I don't need this room. Between the Apocalypse and my soldiers dying, I have bigger things on my plate and won't allow myself to be distracted by this childish nonsense.

"From now on, we will use human Paradises to meet up."

Htmorda frowns and takes a skeptical look around.

"And who does this Paradise belong to? I see no Humans here."

"We're in the Paradise of a hunter close to the righteous man, recently deceased."

"Oh!" Zedekiel cracks a smile. "It's Ash, right? I hear he's giving a hard time to the section in charge of the Axis Mundi and managing Human Paradises. They keep finding him snooping around in places where he shouldn't be. Even once in the Eden Garden! I guess he's still wandering off."

"Zed, always the gossiping one, striving to collect and spread dirt all over Heaven. You just can't help yourself, can you?" Uriel chuckles, his voice dropping lower still. "I sure hope you know how to hold this tongue of yours on some occasions and on some issues."

Zedekiel's smile wavers under Uriel's icy gaze, and I decide to break up their eye contact filled with unspoken words. I don't know what happened between those two, and I don't care.

"I have brought you here to tell you what I have just learned from Revelations. The seal of the summoning of Samhain has been broken."

Uriel crosses his arms and sneers.

"I knew it! I knew it all along, Castiel, your monkeys are not –"

"And Sam Winchester used his powers," I cut him short. "Zedekiel, you will give him a warning. The hierarchy is clear on that, he must no longer use the abilities of Azazel's blood."

"I can do it." All eyes turn to Uriel who's smiling coldly, radiating confidence and power. "And Zedekiel is fine with this," he adds dismissively.

"It's a mission that requires tact," I object tentatively. "You'd need to be calm and patient."

Uriel raises an eyebrow, looking offended.

"And you think I can't do that? Don't you trust me, Castiel?"

On his true face, his three purple eyes are staring at me intently. For a second, I remember my agony after being attacked by Camael, Uriel's arms around me, and these very same eyes filled with worry.

"Of course I do," I finally say, averting my gaze. "Zedekiel, you may go."

There is something I can't read in Zedekiel's face as he glances at me... is that pity? The next moment, he is gone, and I turn to Uriel.

"Uriel. You will handle Sam Winchester, but don't even think of laying a finger on him."

Uriel merely nods, spreading his wings behind his back. In one flap, he vanishes, leaving me alone with Htmorda whose human face makes him look surly.

"I guess I'm here to get back to my station with the righteous man."

"No."

I step away from the counter and walk over to the jukebox which keeps playing music, then come to a halt, joining my hands behind my back.

"All resources need to be focused on protecting the seals. Also, due to some new... information... I am now officially Dean Winchester's Guardian."

"Officially?" Htmorda narrows his eyes. "That had not happened since..."

"I know."

He was about to say Camael's name. Under the circumstances, hearing that name is the last thing I want. Dean's fate may be regrettable, but I would never...

I shake my head in frustration to chase away these thoughts.

"These are the orders," I firmly say.

"And orders are orders."

Htmorda says these words automatically before flying away in a silky rustle. There's only music now, and me.

Becoming the Guardian of Michael's vessel is a mission I should probably see as a great honor. A career opportunity, as Zachariah would put it. Instead, a sadness I haven't experienced since the Neanderthals went extinct invades me. This aching pain adds to the doubts plaguing me. Doubts I can't share with any of my brothers. They wouldn't understand. They just can't.

I can't tell anyone, ever.

oOo

I appear in a flap of my wings in the park, standing near the righteous man who startles when he sees me standing right next to the bench he's sitting on.

"Fuck!"

I fold my wings while Dean sighs loudly, rolling his eyes, and walk to a bench next to his to sit down too. From the corner of my eye, I see him gazing at the activity in the park. His face relaxes and fills with serenity. I look at the fallen leaves on the ground, listening to the birds chirping above us, the trees rustling and children's voices playing in the distance. This gentle late autumn atmosphere reminds me of my favorite Paradise. But the doubts weighing on my Grace and thoughts about the broken seal keep me from fully enjoying this beautiful scenery.

"Let me guess," Dean's voice rises. "You're here for the 'I told you so'."

"No."

The truth is, I have no official reason to be here other than my new mission as a Guardian. I have no information to share with him. I don't know why I came to him in the first place.

This is a bad idea. A very bad one. The doubts plaguing me more and more with each passing century are not right. And to reveal them to a mortal instead of requesting a rehabilitation like I should have done thousands of years ago would be a mistake. But...

I don't know what to think.

"Well, good, cause I'm really not that interested."

"I am not here to judge you, Dean."

The harsh behavior I had to display in order to get the reaction I was expecting, as well as our previous altercations, probably gave Dean a very bad opinion of me, judging by the mistrust in his voice. But now I can finally talk to him with no imposed objective to achieve.

"Then why are you here?"

I look away nervously. Having an honest conversation with a Human is very disconcerting, but I believe that the righteous man deserves to know the truth. Or at least, the tiny part of the truth that I have not been ordered not to reveal to him. That's the least I can do, considering the tragic fate awaiting him. There is nothing forbidding me to tell him his role in the summoning of Samhain, and yet I can feel dread crawling inside of me.

"Our orders –"

"Yeah, you know, I've had about enough of these orders of yours –"

"Our orders," I insist, "were not to stop the summoning of Samhain, they were to do whatever you told us to do."

Dean frowns and leans over to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Your orders were to follow my orders?" he asks incredulously.

I nod and try to explain from the little information I have received.

"It was a test, to see how you would perform under... battlefield conditions, you might say."

"It was a witch, not the Tet Offensive."

I look down and fail to hold back a smile. Yes, Dean Winchester is truly special. Most Humans would not have survived just one tenth of what he went through on Earth or in Hell. I suppose that's the least we can expect from Adam and Eve's descendant and the most powerful Archangel's appointed vessel.

"So I failed your test, huh? I get it. But you know what?" The righteous man is staring straight ahead, at the children playing and people strolling by. "If you would have waved that magic time-traveling wand of yours and we had to do it all over again, I'd make the same call."

With these words, he casts a defiant and sharp look at me.

I can hear in his voice the echoes of Camael's last words to me, and it stirs up a combination of longing and fascination in me. Dean may have lived only a few decades and broken the first seal that pushed the world into chaos, but there is wisdom in him, in a way I can't quite fathom. Everything seems so simple and clear when he voices his views on a situation.

Dean seems to misinterpret my silence and pursues with even more conviction, as if he were certain of my disapproval.

"'Cause see, I don't know what's gonna happen when these seals are broken, hell I don't even know what's gonna happen tomorrow. But what I do know is, that this, here? These kids, the swings, the trees, all of it is still here because of my brother and me."

"You misunderstand me, Dean, I'm not like you think. I was praying that you would choose to save the town."

"You were?" he asks dubiously.

How should I explain? If this situation had occurred a long time ago, back when the Neanderthals were living, I would hardly have cared at all if I had been watching a thousand Humans being obliterated.

"These people..."

I lean over too to watch the Humans walking in the park. A mother is holding a very young child by the waist as he takes his first steps, and a little girl who was running falls in the grass, rising back to her feet with a wince. I haven't had much time to observe the Humans living on Earth for the past two millennia - initially because of the interdiction to go to Earth, then because I lacked time after my promotion to the head of the Garrison - but they are still as beautiful, complex and fascinating as ever.

"They're all my Father's creations. They're works of art."

I repress a sigh, determined to share my thoughts with the righteous man. His uncanny wisdom and insight might help me to have a better understanding of the situation.

"And yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken and we are one step closer to Hell on earth, for all creation. Now that's not an expression, Dean, it's literal." I look at him intently as I say these words. "You of all people should appreciate what that means."

Dean looks down, and for a moment, I can see a vulnerability written on his features that reminds me what it felt like to hold his frightened soul in my hand while I was dragging him out of Hell. And it is probably this moment of sincerity filtering through his usual mask of self-confidence and arrogance that makes me want to unveil myself too.

"Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?"

"Okay."

"I'm not a…" I have to force the words out of my throat. Words that I have never spoken out loud, that I have kept buried deep inside myself for thousands of years. "… hammer, as you say."

The righteous man simply looks at me as I try to utter the most shameful and despicable words that an Angel of the Lord can possibly say.

"I have questions, I… have doubts."

I can almost feel the anathema ringing in the air and through my Grace. Suddenly, words flow from my mouth more easily at Dean's lack of judgment or shock. An Angel would have been appalled to hear me say this, and this quiet acknowledgement unravels something in me.

"I don't know what is right and what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here." I already broke the most important rule by voicing my doubts, I should at least warn Dean of what awaits him. He deserves to know. "But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make. I don't envy the weight that's on your shoulders, Dean. I truly don't."

For me, basically, this is just a repetition of what I have been through many times throughout my life. With the difference that I am now in Anna's position for the responsibilities, and in Camael's for the mission of Guardian. Facing this Apocalypse will be much worse for the Winchesters than it will be for me.

I share a long look with Dean, trying and failing to stifle back my compassion. When he averts his eyes, I turn myself invisible and gaze for a moment longer at the life the Winchester brothers have preserved.

One last moment of quiet before going back to a war that is already lost.

One last moment of peace before Hell on Earth.

oOo

In the next chapter

"Why are you defending him, Castiel?"

"He's under my protection. I am his Guardian."

"No... There is more... You like him."

[Author's note: The song in the second last scene is Wind of Change by Scorpions.]