"I know I'm the one who suggested this, but are you sure this is necessary?" Dean asks as he snaps shut the Enochian strap on Cas' wrist. Sam was at the bottom of the table, strapping Cas' legs to the table, he didn't seem particularly at ease either.

Sure, they knew they suggested this, but it made them feel sick to have Cas lay down on this godforsaken lab table in that never used before dungeon, a dungeon clearly designated to do more than just trap angels.

The table had Enochian straps to hold down arms, legs and even the neck. The idea alone of what might have been done on that table in the past is enough to make the brothers want to just grab Cas and drag him as far away from the room as possible.

Sometimes, it was easy to forget Cas was an angel, to not lump him in with the feathered assholes whenever they insulted them. But having him laying here with an unfocused look on his face by the fact alone that he was in this room was enough to remind them clearly.

"You can't hold me down." Castiel's voice is slurred, he sounds drunk, or drugged. "Sam fought me because of the pain…" He turns his head to look Dean straight in the eye. "I will fight you because it comes as second nature."

Castiel trusts Sam and Dean, but even if he does, he knows he will fight for more than just the pain. He will fight because of Metatron, because deep down, his whole being screamed at the idea of someone taking his grace again. Because he can still remember the wrenching agony it came with having his grace torn out of him.

But he will also fight for the simple fact that it came as instinct to fight whoever tried to steal his grace. Just like any human would fight anyone who tried to take their soul.

"Do you remember the spell?" He asks, now turning to look at Sam, there was a spell to remove grace, one that made it less… bloody…

Sam nodded, he didn't seem particularly on board with this, but it had to be done. Castiel frowned suddenly as he felt the mark on his bicep sting, something tugging at it.

"What is it?" Dean questions, noticing the grimace. Castiel doesn't answer, yet, the way he shifts his left arm and turns his head towards it gives enough of an answer.

"You are feeling it." Sam said, voice barely above a whisper, unable to hide the hint of fascination. Because if they were right about that mark and what Cas has been feeling, then that meant God was pulling Cas right now. But where? What for? Did He just want to make Cas not do this or was there something else? Why not come to them Himself?

"Alright, that's it. We are not doing this." Dean states, quickly reaching out to tear off the straps, Castiel looks at him.

"But you-"

"I know what I said, but you said so yourself, you have only felt that basically whenever you are about to get killed or might get killed. Or seriously fucked up." And that's all Dean needed to call quits on this, he wanted to make Cas not die, not kill him.

"It doesn't have to mean anything." Castiel tries as he sits up, shaking his head at the bout of dizziness, which doesn't help at all, the bunker's wards have always been pressing down on him, uncomfortable and trying to push him away, he had grown used to them, though it was also most of the reason he didn't spend much time here. But these were much harder to ignore.

"Let's get you out of here." Dean said, ignoring the angel's protests and grabbing his arm, Sam quickly went to his other side, between the two they helped Cas off the table and led him outside the dungeon, and they would be lying if they didn't say they weren't glad for this turn of events. Neither of them had been looking forward to having to drain Cas' grace.

As the three stepped out of the dungeon, Castiel tensed, the sting shifting into a burning as the invisible force yanked at him with enough strength to make him subconsciously lift his wings. Air catching in his throat and eyes widening, a power like nothing he has ever felt, calling, drawing. Demanding. Making his grace flare as something whispered through angel radio, familiar but indecipherable.

"Cas?"

Dean and Sam had halted when Cas did, he had stiffened the second the three had stepped out of the dungeon, the brothers released him after making sure he could stand on his own. Was now completely still, made alarm set in when out of nowhere his eyes lit up, head tilting as if he were listening to something. Eyes narrowing.

And then a lightbulb exploded, making the three flinch, though Castiel did more than flinch, sucking in a sharp breath as the glow from his eyes snuffed out, he grabbed both of them and yanked them with him, making the brothers stumble.

"Dude-"

"We have to go."

"What? Go where?" Sam asked, barely managing to not crash on the floor as he stumbled trying to keep up with Cas' pace. The angel stopped abruptly, frowning.

"I'm not sure…"

Sam and Dean shared a look.

"Alright… just let's get the car." Dean conceded, he was still processing a lot of things, was a bit mad, a bit confused, but Cas' had left quite clear that this… pull was important, that it might be related to Him.

Castiel released them, nodding shortly.

Maybe this was what they needed. Maybe, just maybe, they might finally be able to find God or an actual clue that might help them solve this whole mess with Amara.

~

Castiel was frowning as he stared out of the window, gaze narrowed as he focused on the whispers ringing through angel radio, it was an almost… musical tune, familiar… but he can't be sure. It's calling to him, like wisps of a long forgotten melody.

It's tugging, pulling . He's sitting on the backseat of the impala, telling Dean when to change course, he can feel as the pull grows stronger. As the fire oozing from the mark on his arm intensifies, making him grip his arm.

Sam and Dean believed it to be God, Castiel begged to differ. Why do this? Why not just show up? Why the need for so many theatrics? Why allow at all for his grace to be taken if He was gonna tell him where it was? Why let any of this happen at all?

But the song… it's so familiar it makes his chest hurt. He knows this song. But from where?

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean can't help but glance at Cas through the rearview mirror from time to time, he was quiet, incredibly so, would only speak to tell when and where to turn.

Aside from that his gaze was fixated outside, he was tense and clutching his arm, right where the brothers had seen the handprint. They are quite sure that if Cas had his wings he would have already flown wherever it was he had to be at.

Dean had been driving for almost a day now, bathroom stops and a gas stop had been enlightening, Cas seemed to get restless the longer it took to get back on the road.

It wasn't until their arrival to Oregon that he changed his position, back straightening and eyes widening as he grabbed Sam's shoulder, Sam who had switched with Dean a few hours ago and jumped at the unexpected touch.

"Stop the car." The urgency in his voice was enough to get Sam doing as told, quickly pulling over, even though they were in the middle of absolutely nowhere, just a road with tons of trees on each side.

He didn't even let Sam kill the engine before he was jumping out of the car.

"Cas, wait, dammit!" Dean cursed as the angel all but ran into the forest, prompting the brothers to chase after him, and holy shit he could run.

By some miracle, they managed to not lose him, coming to an abrupt halt as they all appeared into a clearing, there was a lake, and on the other side of the lake, a cabin was at.

"Cas?" Sam calls tentatively, glancing at the angel, although he can't see his face, he can see how stiff his shoulders are.

"It stopped." Castiel said, staring at the cabin, the song had stopped, and so had the pull. He could feel something in the cabin, but he couldn't quite pinpoint whether it was human, demonic or angelic or what.

Yet, it doesn't stop him as he starts walking towards the cabin, he can feel Sam and Dean behind him. He stops infront of the door once he reaches it, should he knock? Or should he sneak inside? But the decision matters little, for the door opens.

And there he stood. The prophet.

No.

That's no prophet, that's-

"Took you long enough." The voice cuts through his mind, making his throat close and his eyes widen.

"You-"

"You should come in." Chuck cuts off, stepping aside and inviting them into the cabin. Castiel moves on instinct, tense but unable to not do as told. Sam and Dean follow after him.

As Chuck closes the door behind them, he walks over to the couch, taking a seat and motioning to the couch across from him.

Castiel and Sam move silently, sitting down, but Dean doesn't sit, he stays by the door. For a moment, there's nothing but silence.

And then.

"Uh…Chuck? Or, well, I guess we don't call you that?" Sam breaks the silence, nervous and feeling like the silence might just consume him. But no one was saying anything and he was getting seriously anxious here.

"I prefer it." Chuck says easily. Chuck. God.

"Okay, uh, 'Chuck' it is." Sam chuckles nervously. "I'm sorry. You're gonna have to, uh, give us a moment to start to process." He adds as Dean and Cas stay quiet, both staring at Chuck with indecipherable expressions on their faces.

Chuck nods in understanding.

"We didn't even know you were around. I mean, we knew about Chuck, but we just didn't know about… Chuck . I mean, I-I was hoping you were around. I-I-I prayed and I-I- but I don't know if they got, uh, lost in the spam or if–"

"Sam?" Dean cuts off, prompting him to turn to look at his brother.

"Yeah?"

"Babbling."

"Okay."

Chuck glances at Dean.

"I'm sensing some hostility here." He speaks, making Dean meet his gaze.

"Here's the thing, um… Chuck… and I mean no disrespect." Dean's quick to add, raising his hands in a peace gesture. "Um… I'm guessing you came back to help with the Darkness, and that's great. That's, you know- it's fantastic. But you've been gone a long, long time. And there's so much crap that has gone down on the Earth. For thousands of years. I mean, plagues and wars, slaughters. And you were, I don't know, writing books, going to fan conventions. Were you even aware, or did you tune it out?"

"I was aware, Dean." Chuck admits, he had just chosen to not intervene, not much at least, but he would rather let them get it all out now. He owes them that, plus, it gives him a chance to explain some things.

"But you did nothing. And again, I'm not trying to push you off. You know, I don't want to turn into a pillar of salt."

"I actually- I didn't do that." Chuck feels the need to point out.

"Okay… People- people pray to you. People built churches for you. They fight wars in your name, and you did nothing ." Dean states, feeling anger start to swirl in. Frustration.

"You're frustrated. I get it. Believe me, I was hands on. Real hands-on for, wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created… that they would grow up, but it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being over involved is no longer parenting." Chuck sighs, he needs them to understand this. "It's enabling."

"But it didn't get better."

"Well, I have been mulling it over. And from where I sit, I think it has." Chuck states, because it was true, humans had grown, had become stronger, much more resilient.

"Well, from where I stand, it feels like you left us and you're just trying to justify it." Dean bites out, unable to keep the pain from leaking into his voice, he was angry, wanted nothing more but to scream at Him.

But he was also in pain, a part of him felt betrayed, to hear He had always been aware but did nothing.

"I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don't confuse me with your dad."

"You are right, you are not. But you are his." Dean snaps, throwing a look at Cas, he still remembers how learning that God didn't give a fuck had affected the guy, he had believed in God more than either Sam or him had, had been so insistent on finding Him…

He had believed that he could find Him, and that once he did, God would stop it all. Even now Dean was yet to see Cas get as upset as he had done that time.

"You said you left us for our own good, fine. But what about them? Were you also aware of what they were doing? To Earth? To each other? To him? Some of them were good, he is good, and you what? You just let them die?" Dean states, because some angels had been alright despite all, Samandriel, Balthazar, Gabriel, hell, even Anna before Naomi fucked up her mind and turned her into a Terminator. Or Tessa before Metatron did who the hell knows to her.

And God had done shit.

"I… was also aware, yes. It pained me to see them, but I hoped that by giving them space, they would find a way to learn to be more than just soldiers."

"That's-"

"Bullshit." Sam and Dean made a double take at the unexpected choice of words from Cas.

He was glaring at Chuck with no ounce of fear at all, and Dean wasn't sure whether to be proud or scared for his friend's life.

"I didn't understand before when Raphael told me, but after hearing some of my siblings after the fall, after seeing what I saw… I think I now understand what he had meant then."

Or at least some part of it.

"Most angels don't know what to do with free will. They have no idea how to be anything but soldiers, when given the choice to do more than just that, they become lost, and without the right guidance… they become angry, desperate…"

Castiel can still remember Hael, she had been willing to try , but the idea of doing so alone… she had not been able to bear it, and with it, she became desperate, angry. Because as Raphael had said once, angels were born to follow orders, not think for themselves.

He also knows from experience how terrifying it can be at first. To be free and not know what to do with that.

"Angels were born to follow orders, since the beginning of time that's all angels have done, follow orders, they weren't allowed to do anything else, and those who tried… they were punished." And Castiel for a moment had become the very thing he had fought once.

Daniel and Adina had wanted to do just that, live their life here, to be free from Heaven , and both had died for it. And Castiel had let it happen. Had even tried to get them to go back to Heaven, when he himself was literally just like them.

"Expecting them to just learn to be anything else by themselves…" He curled his fingers into fists, anger curling around his stomach, he was highly aware he should not be speaking like this to God. But he could care less about that, even less after hearing His words. All the suffering his siblings had caused, to both humans and each other, those who died unfairly, the Apocalypse, the Leviathans, Metatron…

He could have stopped it all, but He didn't.

"You might be God, but if that was your reasoning behind leaving Heaven, you are not just stupid but also blind."

"Watch it."

"Or what?"

A sudden throat clearing cut all tension in the air, making all heads turn to the staircase, where a very unexpected someone stood at.

"Gabriel?" Sam exclaims in surprise and shock, unable to believe what he was seeing, the archangel was supposed to be dead, they saw it. He shouldn't -

But he is alive. Wearing honest to God pajamas with candy patterns and looking like death warmed over, but alive.

"Yeah, I'm alive, you can stop the waterworks now." He says, smiling and waving at them, though his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, he looks like he might just drop dead down the stairs.

"You shouldn't be wandering around." Chuck states, tone displeased, Gabriel scoffs.

"Wouldn't have to if you stopped talking so fucking cryptically. You told me to bring him here, I did. He's telling you the same thing I told you before you decided to go buy milk. Don't you think it might be worth mulling over if several people are telling you the same shit instead of pulling a fit?"

Yeah, Sam and Dean had to give it to them, or archangels were built differently or these two just had zero survival instincts. Though what Cas said… he did have a point, and somehow, it gave them a new understanding regarding angels.

And Cas was right, if Chuck had wanted angels to be more than just soldiers, why the hell leave without a word? How the hell had He expected things to go fine by just disappearing and saying nothing? That wasn't how things worked, even less regarding creatures who were, for what Cas said once, created as how they were even now, they never got to be anything but stuck up soldiers.

Not a child, not a teenager. Nothing. Just ancient wavelengths or whatever with one purpose. Obey.

Meanwhile, Chuck frowned, he hated to admit it but… Gabriel and Castiel might have a point, he hadn't stopped to think about what his absence might cause, he had seen the angels as mankind, he had thought that while there would be chaos, death and violence, that it would eventually help them grow, change. Some had, but the others had killed them all, rejecting change.

And while he told himself that pain was a part of evolution… it pained him to see his children fight and kill each other. Never wanting to change. Just see who got to grab the throne and rule the rest over. When they fell, he tried to save as many as he could, he thought that maybe this time they would be able to grow.

They didn't. They got worse. Killing each other by tons and dragging reapers and even humans into their war.

Maybe he had been doing this all wrong…

"I will think about it. Now return to your room." Chuck states at last, Gabriel scoffs at him, expression growing displeased. But Chuck wasn't about to argue on this, Gabriel was still extremely weak and should not be walking around or out of bed at all. He didn't wake him up so he could go around straining himself.

"I'm going, but not because you asked me to, you are not the boss of me." Gabriel said, which was true, just because dear old dad decided to save his ass from Asmodeus didn't mean Gabriel was about to be like Michael and kiss the floor he walked on. Plus, he felt like shit, going back to bed didn't sound that bad.

Even if he wanted to stay, because finding out Castiel was little, ankle bitter Cassiel was certainly not what he had been expecting when Chuck woke him up from the 'charging induced coma'. When he first met Castiel, he had known something was off about him, he didn't recognize him, that for starters, which had been weird in itself, Gabriel knew every single angel in Heaven.

But there had also been an odd familiar feeling about him… it's the reason why Gabriel hadn't wanted to give him back. Something about him had just struck him as too familiar to let go.

Now knowing what he knew… of course Castiel was Cassiel. Only Cassiel would ever be willing to break every rule under the sun for humans. Choose humans over Heaven and any other biblical bullshit the angels decided to throw.

Meanwhile, the Winchesters and Castiel watched Gabriel disappear upstairs once again.

"How is he alive? He was dead, we saw it."

"Gabriel was never dead, he's always been very… skilled at tricks, maybe Lucifer taught him, but you know what they say, the student always surpasses the teacher." Chuck said, a hint of pride and amusement in his voice. "A Prince of Hell had him, I managed to pin his location just recently, he's been healing ever since."

"Healing?" Gabriel looked perfectly fine to Sam. A bit too pale, but fine.

"His grace, it was being siphoned. I can give angels their grace back with a snap of my fingers, but archangels are much more complex, especially if their grace is split, which is theoretically what happens when you siphon their grace. He shouldn't even be awake, but I needed him awake to bring you to me." Chuck states, glancing at Castiel on the last remark.

"Why not just bring me with a snap of your fingers? I thought God was supposed to be able to do anything." Castiel said, voice flat, though there is anger behind it, he's angry, and he doesn't even know why he is so overwhelmingly angry, but there's also pain, and a suffocating hint of betrayal he can't for the life of him decipher.

Because this is God, God who just let all the suffering happen, and for what? Growth? All those innocents who were caught in the crossfire of his siblings' fights, the wars… it made his blood burn. Innocent people had died. Innocent, good and loyal angels had died.

And for what? For nothing.

"I can do so, doesn't mean I should." Chuck states, leaning back against the couch with his hands crossed over his chest, at their looks, he sighs. "You might be nothing but a far cry from who you once were, but as long as you have the slightest wisp of power in you, that tiny wisp will, in a way, remember me, and you already saw what happens when I try to grab you against your will."

Castiel frowned, hand instinctively reaching up to touch where the mark was at. Confusion swirling around his chest.

"Are you saying you can't make him appear before you?" Dean asks, not quite sure he was understanding this, how would that even be possible? Cas said so himself, wasn't God supposed to be able to do, well, anything?

"I can, but he would rather die fighting me than come to me when called. Though I guess that's on me."

"I don't understand…" Castiel couldn't see any reason why he would fight against God. He couldn't understand.

He tensed when Chuck stood up, hands clasped behind His back.

"You were supposed to be a watcher, zero interference, Lucifer and Michael were warriors, Raphael was a healer and Gabriel my messenger. I needed a watcher. That didn't go over well, you have always had a very… strong attachment to humanity, strong enough you wouldn't even think twice to go behind my back and go against my word."

Castiel was quite sure it was obvious how much his shoulders were drawn, and while the humans couldn't see it, he was 100% sure God could see his wings bristling at His every word.

"Every time I brought you to me, every time you would fight me, let's say you developed a very aggressive intolerance to my power whenever I tried to summon you." Castiel was proud at how well he did at not flinching as God came to stand before him, eyes burrowing into him, though while He looked serious, something about His gaze…

Yet, he didn't look down, he held His gaze, he would never back down, he didn't understand what He was saying, but he didn't need to to understand he's always had his mission clear. It wasn't his fault God apparently disagreed with the very mission He gave them.

And Watcher? Well, Castiel couldn't say he was surprised at his past self, he would never sit back and do nothing when he could change things and protect people.

"It's not that Amara was stronger than me. She might be powerful, but the angels belong to me, if I summon one away from her, they will come to me. I just couldn't grab you because you didn't want to come with me. Had I pulled harder, your reticence against my summoning would have ended up unnecessarily hurting you."

Castiel frowned at that. And this time, he did flinch when unexpected hands reached out to grasp his shoulders. Chuck said nothing, just held his gaze, and Castiel found himself holding it just as unwavering, for some reason, he wasn't afraid, even if the idea of God touching did make him nervous.

But he wasn't afraid.

Meanwhile, Chuck stared at Castiel, this angel who never quite bent to his will, which good. He created him to love mankind more than him. And he did just that. Always willing to sacrifice himself for them without a second thought, even if that meant giving his life or breaking every rule under the sun for that.

And alright, many angels had completely forgotten about their initial mission. But Castiel never did, even when Naomi tried to change him. He always went back to square one. He always fought back.

Archangel, angel, seraph, it didn't matter what Castiel was, Castiel, Cassiel. His essence would always remain untouched, unreachable, steady. That crack in the chassis Naomi had spoken of was nothing but the very thing that made Castiel stay himself.

Because at the end of the day, Castiel would always be his perfect creation, the one and only who would never truly struggle to know free will, for his soul would always make sure to put him back on the right track, one where he makes questions and makes choices no other angel would.

He was all he ever wished the rest of his angels would become. Free. His own person. Not a puppet waiting to see who moves the threads this time.

Chuck would deal with Amara, yes. But this time around, he would make things right, he wouldn't run from his mistakes, he wouldn't pull the easy solutions. He would make sure to make things different this time, he would make sure no one had to die or suffer anymore because his pride might get hurt or he didn't want to deal with anything too troublesome.

Only this way would he be able to have everyone he loved safe.

Only this way would he be able to save everyone.