Archive of Our Own ^beta

“You’re troubled, Castiel.”

“How very observant of you.”

“Tell me about it?”

“Why? So you can find entertainment in that which vexes me?”

“Au contraire, mon ami. I assure you, it’s nothing of the sort. I mean, here we are, you and I, sharing the same body, the same headspace…I’m just looking to build upon our…intimacy.”

“Please.” 

“No, it’s true. Besides, when you’re rattling around in all your pesky anxieties and self-hatred day in and day out, it really starts to give me a migraine. So, out with it, brother. Spill.”

Castiel sighed and rolled his eyes. But he forced himself to look away from the static-filled television set before him and turned to Lucifer, who clearly would not leave him alone otherwise. 

They were in the bunker’s kitchen—at least, the kitchen as his mind had recreated it. It was the mental space he’d chosen to escape into as needed, while granting Lucifer control of his vessel. 

He didn’t devote all his time and awareness to retreating into this space; he had to monitor Lucifer’s actions, to make sure he didn’t overstep and abuse what control Castiel had granted him. But he now understood why it was necessary for most vessels to need such a mental landscape; being a passenger in one’s own body was…disconcerting. And after a time, panic and instability could otherwise take control.

The room was dimly lit and empty save the two of them, reminiscent of the many nights Castiel had spent awake and alone there while the Winchesters slept, or when they’d been away on a hunt. It had become a refuge to him, in many ways, though he had never quite considered it “home.” More like Sam and Dean tolerated his presence here, for he had nowhere else to go.

Nowhere to call home since his disobedience and actions had cost him a place in Heaven. Not fully angel any more, yet not human enough to have a place on Earth. Disallowed penance and pulled out of Purgatory. And Hell? Well, angels were never welcome there.

Lucifer sat on the edge of the table, his gaze intent but, curiously, not mocking. If Castiel didn’t know better, he’d say the archangel looked genuinely concerned for his well being.

Still, surely it was just an act. An attempt to get him to open up, only later to use against him whatever he said at the first opportunity.

Wasn’t it?

Maybe he wasn’t entirely sure any longer. It had been several months now, to the best of his knowledge, and he had to admit he was learning things about Lucifer and gaining an understanding of him he’d lacked before this experience.

For one thing, neither one of them had a place to call home.

So what did Castiel have to lose in speaking plainly when he’d already given up his bodily autonomy? Since Lucifer wouldn’t leave him alone until he was satisfied with Castiel’s answer, Castiel might as well get it over with.

“I am wondering if I have misjudged you,” he said. 

Lucifer laughed, his many angelic eyes twinkling with delight around the visage of the man who had once been Nick Flannagan of Pike Creek, Delaware. “Well, you wouldn’t be the first. And I certainly have misjudged you, brother. Back there during apocalypse numero uno, I thought you were just an irritating busy bee there to make things slightly more interesting. Who could’ve imagined all the trouble you’d cause since then, eh?” 

Castiel flinched at the direct hit. “It’s true, I cannot claim innocence, nor much of any superiority, when I have brought so much death and destruction upon Earth and in Heaven. And I am not saying I can condone the things you have done, Lucifer. But I think I can understand, now, how we were both hurt by a father, a creator, who abandoned us when we needed him the most. And that the fight for free will and to break away from the script written for us? Sometimes it must be a bloody fight.”

“It’s like you took the words right out of my mouth. Though I guess that would be our mouth right now, hmm?”

Lucifer brought a hand to Cas’s face, brushing a thumb over his lips. “It’s a rather nice one, if I do say so myself. I can see why you’re so keen on keeping this vessel, even without a soul in it any longer to tether it to this world.”

“What are you doing?” Both Lucifer’s touch and Castiel’s reaction to it left him feeling confused.

“Entertaining myself. Do you want me to stop?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Then let’s see what I can do to help you decide.”

“James! Matthew! Peter! Come in now and clean up for supper.”

Veronika Novak smiled as she heard the expected groans from her young boys, their “But mother—”s and “It’s not even sundown yet!”s doing nothing to sway her resolve.

“We eat at seven o’clock, just as we do when your father is home. If your stew is cold because you dilly-dally, then so be it. I won’t be chasing you to the dinner table.”

She knew this memory well; it was one of her favorites that she came back to time and time again. Endless times now, it must be, though she never grew tired of it. The boys would all come stomping in with more groans and belly aching, making minimal effort to be presentable for the dinner table, as young boys would do. They would sit for the meal and say grace, and not long after she passed the fresh, yeasty dinner rolls and served the gulasz wieprzowy there would be a knock at the door, unexpected at this time of the evening when families should sit for dinner. 

And she would get up from the table and open the door to find none other than her beloved husband Stanley, unexpectedly home safe and sooner than expected from his business trip to Chicago. They would embrace and the boys would come rushing up to see him for the first time in weeks. He would share gifts for each and stories of what he had seen and done in the big city, and Veronika would marvel at how fortunate she was, how blessed by God, to have such a wonderful family and all in good health.

Yes, it was a beautiful memory—and she knew it to be such. Just a moment of time relived of her mortal life on Earth. She supposed that was one of the “benefits” of having once been an angelic vessel. Not only had she been able to serve Heaven and her lord as few others ever would, but she had kept enhanced gifts of perception thanks to the remnants of the angel’s grace that had touched her soul. She knew she was in Heaven, reliving the best moments of her life, how and wherever her soul led her reflections. She saw through the firmament and understood how doorways in multidimensional space could lead her to others’ Heavens. Occasionally, she used that knowledge to visit her family members now in God’s paradise, though it could frustrate her when they didn’t share her perceptive abilities.

She could even venture further, if she wished, if she skirted around the angels patrolling the pathways of Heaven to keep all in their orderly places. But so far, in however much time had passed, she was largely content to be where she was. Periodically, she would sneak out to see the timid bookworm she had discovered a few doors away, who spent most of her time in the New York Public Library. Veronika had always loved reading, and now she had all the time in eternity for it.

She could still hear the voices of angels outside of her heavenly memories as well, though she’d come to mostly tune out their noisy, gossipy chatter. She preferred the comfort of her known world over hearing or worrying about what was happening now back on Earth. What little she’d gathered and understood sounded quite messy. 

There, now, was the anticipated knock at her door. She rose from the table, fixing her skirt before going to answer it, a smile ready on her lips as she prepared for who she expected to see on the other side.

But the man standing outside her door was not her husband. It was an unfamiliar gentleman dressed peculiarly. He wore a suit and coat not of this time, rumpled and ill-fitting. He had weary-looking, hooded blue eyes, but in a blink she saw through his visage to the light within him. 

The grace.

And in that moment, she recognized him immediately. 

“Castiel!”

“Hello, Veronika.” He gave her a thin yet sincere smile. “May I…come in and speak with you?”

“Of course, it is an honor to see you again. Please, just mind the boys. They are always underfoot.”

The children chattered on and ate their meal at the dining room table, for now unaware of any divergence from the routine of memory. She led Castiel to the sitting room instead and indicated for him to take a seat. “Is this alright?”

“It is fine, thank you.”

It was curious seeing Castiel in this form, in another human vessel. When he’d first come to her, he’d been all holy fear and glory: wings so black as to block out the stars, rings of fire and eyes bright as the sun. He’d told her she was special, she was chosen, only able to gaze upon his glory because of her extraordinary family lineage and unyielding faith. 

Now, the angel was not only compressed into a human form but he seemed somehow diminished from her memory. Not so bright, not as holy. 

However, she wouldn’t dare utter such impolite words. This was still one of God’s divine servants seated before her. If he had need of her once again, she would do whatever she could for him without reservation.

Castiel looked all around, including glancing into the living room as the boys erupted in laughter, oblivious to the two of them conversing. “You have a joyful home and family here,” he said. “You had a good life, then, after your time with me?”

“An exemplary life,” she confirmed. For some, it might be hard to move on after serving one of God’s angels as she had. But the experience had only convinced her of the importance of living a fruitful and pious life. “I met my husband, Stanley, not long after you departed. Why…it almost felt as if a heavenly gift had been bestowed upon me when we crossed paths. I was keeping books at my father’s office and he was a client.

“We were married within six months and then blessed with four children—all boys! Matthew, sadly, we lost to the Spanish flu. But the others all grew to be fine and faithful young men.”

“I know. This body—this vessel you see here—is that of one of your great grandchildren, James Novak.”

“Oh!” She clutched at her breast, surprise and delight filling her at this revelation. “I hope he is serving you well.”

“He has. He…did. More than I can express my true gratitude for, given some of what he endured. His soul is now in Heaven and God rebuilt this body for me in Jimmy’s likeness. So I would not have to take a living human from their lives ever again.” Castiel paused for a moment, as if preparing himself for what he next had to say.

“However, my…circumstances are such that I have need of your help once more. Indirectly, perhaps. But I would wish for your permission before I take action.”

She did not remember him being this circuitous and evasive before. Something was clearly troubling the angel, so she assured him, “I said yes to you once before, Castiel. I would do so again, of course.”

“I would not ask you to give up the comfort of your reward here in Heaven. This peace and happiness with your family. But I would ask permission to…resurrect and borrow your physical body for a time on Earth, if I may.”

“You can do that?”

He nodded. “You were my last vessel before this current one you see me in now. And this is a sturdy vessel, to be sure, however…a recent change in my condition renders it unsatisfactory for the immediate time being. I need one possessing certain…aspects of the female sex that I currently lack.”

“A 'change in your condition’?”

“Yes.” He fidgeted in his chair in a very un-angelike, almost human manner. “Although it may be difficult for you to believe, I am—for lack of a better way to describe it—pregnant.”

Veronika sat back, confused and rather shocked at the revelation. “But…how could that be possible? Even in whatever future year you are now in outside of Heaven, surely a man—or an angel in a male body—cannot give birth to a child!”

“Not in a body such as this, no, which is why I need to, um, ‘borrow’ yours. For the duration of this pregnancy, or else I fear the infant will die—and perhaps myself along with it. At the moment, I am holding the new life securely within my grace. But I feel its need to grow, to expand, and I can only hold it in check for so long.”

He fell silent briefly, then shook his head. “How it happened, well…the child is the result of myself sharing this vessel with another angel for an extended time. For reasons which are quite lengthy to explain, but it was necessary in order to save the world.”

“I…see,” she said. Although she didn’t, not really. Not in the slightest. But she’d save her questions about that matter for some later time, as she needed to hear more about how this had happened to the angel.

“We grew closer than I could have imagined in that time together. Particularly considering the angel involved was one I once considered my greatest enemy. The child is a result of that closeness.”

“So it is not a nephilim.” She had, after all, first met Castiel on a mission to destroy such an abomination.

“Not in the sense you might recall. Although I suspect the child will have some component of humanity…the goodness that runs through the Novak family line. A physical body that will not require housing in a separate vessel to interact with humans on Earth. I believe this child to be a good thing, despite…well, despite what some might think of his parents.”

“What some might think? Are you not still an esteemed member of one of Heaven’s most powerful garrisons?” She had picked up some strange chatter on angel radio but again, preferred to tune it out.

“Sadly, I am not. Much has happened which I can explain to you first, if it might sway your decision. I will say that every choice I have made I believed to be the good and just one at the time. But they have not always been wise choices, the outcomes perhaps not always justifying the means.”

Veronika considered all of this information.

In a sense, it should not matter to her, she knew. She was in Heaven; she had her family and place in her memories here. What consequences were there to allowing her earthly remains to be put to service and use? Particularly if an angel was telling her it was a good thing, a worthy cause.

And yet she was still a woman of tradition, and of solid virtue. That was, after all, why she had apparently been chosen and marked as worthy of being an angelic vessel in the first place. 

“I will grant you permission to resurrect my body and use it to grow and nurture this child,” she decided after some consideration.

She could see relief flooding through Castiel, the way tension dropped from his shoulders and tension eased from his face. “Thank you, Veronika.”

“There is one condition.”

“I will do whatever you ask, if I can.”

“You will marry the father of this child. I will not have my body and reputation sullied as that of an unwed mother.”

Castiel looked surprised at her request, then thoughtful. “I promise to do my best to make it happen. I’m sure the father will be…amenable.”

“Good. Then it is decided. Would you stay to have dinner with us before you go? Spend a little time with the boys?”

“Considering my connection to your family, I would be very happy to spend a short time with them. Thank you.”

“Wonderful. And you will tell me more about the father of this child while we eat and how this all came about.”

She heard Castiel sigh at that, and grimace slightly as he got to his feet. “I hope that when I do, you will not change your mind.”

Lucifer might have control of the vessel, but Castiel still was aware of what was happening—at least when he chose to be. When Lucifer allowed him. 

He’d had no consideration of doing this until Lucifer had proposed it in the Cage to fight the Darkness. And with no time to spare, no time to waste, he had said “Yes” before he could even contemplate the downsides more than fleetingly.

The havoc Lucifer might cause if left unchecked.

How his friends, Dean and Sam, would react. He knew they would see it as a grave betrayal, perhaps even greater than when he’d partnered with Crowley to find Purgatory in the war against Raphael. 

But he told himself the very fate of the universe mattered far more than his personal relationships. If the Winchesters felt the need to throw them both into the Cage after this was over, so be it—at least the boys would be alive to do so.

And Lucifer might be stronger than Castiel—he was an archangel, not weakened and ravaged by Leviathan, not reprogrammed by Naomi, not tricked and used by Metatron. But he did not understand humanity the way Castiel did; he did not share his love for it borne from time walking the Earth not as a servant of Heaven, not as a vengeful child of God, but as one who had discovered the beauty of true free will and choice in the service of saving souls, not damning them.

Castiel believed that could become useful. At least he hoped so. But right now, Lucifer had barely been “topside” for more than a week, exploring the world while hunting down signs of Amara, and their first confrontation with another angel had not gone well at all.  

“You didn’t have to kill him,” Castiel said, hating to see yet another angel dead at his hands—this time, with a snap of his own fingers under Lucifer’s control. The other angel’s vessel had been vaporized, leaving only a mist of blood, not even any wings burned into the ground to show he had fallen.

“Oh please, Cassie! You see the way they look at you. At us! Buncha weak-willed pencil pushers practically afraid of their own shadows. You’re gonna tell me after everything they’ve done to you, you still give two shits about what happens to them?”

“I am just tired of all the death. All the killing.”

“That’s why you can just leave it all to me now, old chum. Your hands are clean.”

“No, they aren’t. They never will be.”

Castiel wanted to have a genuine conversation, but Lucifer was already stomping off through the park toward the exit. Which maybe wasn’t the worst decision, in case the angel had sent out any kind of missive or alert on angel radio before being exploded. “Look, there is no love lost between myself and most of the angels who remain alive and protecting Heaven today,” Castiel continued. “But with the threat of Amara looming to destroy all of Creation…should we be weakening our side any further than it already is?”

Lucifer stopped and huffed out an exasperated breath. “Y’know, I hate to say it, but you’re probably and very annoyingly right.”

“Thank you.”

“I mean, I shouldn’t be wasting the cannon fodder when they could be useful for that later on.”

Castiel groaned. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Close enough.”

As they moved along, Castiel wondered why Lucifer wasn’t just flying off to…wherever he intended to go next. What was up with this whole lounging about in the park, feeding the birds deal anyway (besides it being the kind of thing Castiel liked to do when he had a quiet day or needed somewhere peaceful to think.) They were approaching the park’s playground where a group of young children were running around, frolicking about on the various slides and swings as their parents watched them.

Castiel found his feet stopping, Lucifer observing the happy families at leisure and relaxing. For a moment, he grew tense; he had seen Lucifer wipe out entire towns during the Apocalypse. Would he lash out here and now against these innocents to punish Castiel for criticizing him earlier?

Instead, Castiel sensed confusion from the archangel. A touch of what he perhaps identified as…longing, even.

“You know why I hate them, Castiel?” His tone of voice was softer, missing its usual sarcastic bite.

“Why?”

“Because they’re allowed to have all of…this. Things father never allowed us to have or to know. No relaxing, no ‘downtime’ to have fun and play and…love. Heck, most of those birdbrains upstairs don’t even understand what love or any other emotion is! But you and I, well…that’s what makes us different. Why we could never fit in. We came to know these things on our own. You embraced it. I wanted to destroy it.”

“And now…what do you want to do now?”

“I…I think I want you to shut up and go away for a while.” 

Before Castiel could object or speak again, he found himself shoved back into the mental cage of the Bunker’s kitchen, static on the tv.

It was all right, though. One small step at a time.

He would teach Lucifer to value human life, even if it killed him in the process.

Castiel cleaned the dirt and grime of over a hundred years off his skirt, brushed his now significantly longer hair out of his face, and took stock of his new—well, newly recovered—human shape. 

Rebuilding Veronika’s body had taken a bit more effort than when he’d done similar for Dean Winchester, given the time that had lapsed since her death. But he was stronger now than he had been in several years. His grace had been replenished through sharing his other vessel with Lucifer, despite all they had suffered together at Amara’s hands. Chuck had touched them with the light of God to heal the damage she’d caused, during their uneasy detente at the Bunker.

Perhaps that touch, too, had been the spark that had ignited this new life within him. With Chuck gone who-knew-where now with his sister, he might never know. 

Castiel now possessed enough grace to rebuild organs and flesh from the withered scraps that remained. DNA provided the blueprint to knit cells together and recreate a body suitable for the angelic grace that was Castiel’s essence that he then poured into it.

He could feel the strength of the Novak's bloodline in this body, much like when he’d first possessed Jimmy. It welcomed him like a glove, the way only one of an angel’s true vessel lineage would. And even without a soul to share conscious space with, he felt the lingering presence of Veronika in his presence.

He sent a blessing Heavenward once more in gratitude for her consent to this cause and mission. He hoped he was correct that this body would be strong enough to hold both his and the growing angelic infant’s grace, though whether it could survive the birth itself would be another matter. Human mothers never lived past the birth of a nephilim, and this child could be even more, well…explosive, given the combination of powers he would possess. But that was also why he took an “empty” vessel for this purpose versus that of a living human female. He would not cause one death just to bring a different life into existence.

This body would take him some getting used to, having been in his other vessel for so long now—certainly longer than he’d ever kept any vessel in the past. But he could already feel the infant grace settling into place within it, peaceful now instead of confused, limited and stressed, recognizing it as a space to grow healthy, to thrive.

His familiar, Jimmy-shaped body lay lifeless on the ground beside the excavated gravesite. He’d left just enough of his grace within it to keep it in a state of stasis until he returned to it. No offense to Veronika’s body and the service it would now provide to him, but he’d borrowed it for this specific task at hand, and would return it to proper rest as soon as he could. He’d bring the Jimmy-vessel back with him to the house he’d found to call home these next few weeks or months, however long gestation would take. It was a quiet, small, and isolated vacation home on a lakeshore in Washington state, not particularly populated or well-maintained. The real estate agent had let him lease it for the summer (for a “steal of a price,” she’d insisted, though he reassured her he had no intention of stealing anything) and an option to negotiate a long-term lease in the fall. He had mentioned his “sister” would be the one primarily using the house, in case there were questions about who the mysterious woman in residence was. 

So now the first things he’d needed to take care of were complete: he had a place to stay that he could make safe for what could be a powerful birth, and an even more powerful child. A place that he could fortify with sigils and Enochian magic to keep the child safe from those who might wish it harm. He had a body suited for seeing this pregnancy through to term, hopefully successfully.

Now, he just had to find what had happened to Lucifer and convince him they should—in fact, they had to—get married to satisfy the promise Castiel had made.

He had a feeling that Lucifer would be all too thrilled at the prospect. If only because it put Castiel in such an awkward position.

Truth was, Castiel was worried and wanted to find Lucifer, anyway. The fallen archangel needed to know—if he couldn’t sense already—what had come from their union of grace in the fight against Amara.

But more minor, practical matters had to take precedence first. Castiel needed to adjust his clothing to something better suited for this time period, and the work ahead.

He envisioned what he’d become comfortable in for so long now, but adapted to his current physique. It might do well for him, as his waistline expanded to make room for the child. 

Dark leggings, a simple button-down blouse, and a tan jacket not unlike his trench coat replaced Veronika’s corseted, lacy dress. A silky blue hair tie kept his long tresses up in a loose bun so as not to get in the way.

The heeled black shoes he constructed might need to go as this pregnancy progressed, but for now he liked how they gave him a bit of his former (human) height back—the slight difference in perspective had been disconcerting to him.

This felt much more comfortable, as he’d suspected it would. With that complete, he picked up his Jimmy-shaped vessel, unfurled healed wings, and took off for the lake house. Preparations there, and then he could see about finding Lucifer.

And hopefully staying out of the Winchesters’ sights until things settled down again, too. As much as he cared for the brothers and Mary, he had a feeling they wouldn’t quite understand where fate and the choices he’d made had now led him. 

“What do you mean, you’ve got to go? Go where?” Dean demanded, anger flaring in his emotive eyes. Anger, along with a copious helping of hurt, the latter which made it that much harder for Castiel to do as he needed. Dean always thought Castiel was abandoning him just when things were coming together, and as usual there were reasons for it now that Castiel simply couldn’t explain.  

“I need to find Lucifer. I may have a lead. In…Cleveland,” he lied. He hated lying to them because he wasn’t particularly good at it.

Dean shrugged, at least not noticing his fabrication. “All right, then. We’ll get Baby loaded and come with you.”

“No. Dean, Sam…your place right now is here with your mother, Mary. She needs both of your help in getting used to being in the world of the living again. Lucifer is out there because I freed him from the Cage. He is my responsibility. I will take care of him.”

Sam raised his objections more gently than Dean did, but his words were no less pointed. “Cas, forgive me for saying this, but if you find him…I don’t think you’re strong enough to fight him on your own.”

“I’m not looking to fight him. I just…I want to talk to him.”

“Yeah,” Dean snorted. “’Cause that’s always worked so well for us in the past.”

“I’ve shared a vessel with him, Dean. I know him in ways you don’t.”

“I was his vessel, too,” Sam objected. “In the Cage. I suffered things I don’t think even you can understand, Cas. How can you…how can you think you can have any kind of rational conversation with him?”

“I think I understand quite well, thank you,” Castiel countered. “In ways that only another angel fallen from God’s graces ever could.” 

“Now you’re defending Lucifer? Really?” Dean asked., throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. “Well, you know what? Go on, go do whatever it is you’re gonna do. You’re right, mom deserves our attention right now.”

And I don’t.

Dean didn’t have to say the last out loud, but his attitude certainly conveyed that message.

So Castiel left the bunker, before he might say anything else to burn further bridges with the brothers he’d once considered his best and only friends. It hurt, but he had to do what he knew to be right and necessary.

The Winchesters didn’t need him the way the child he carried needed his parents. The way Castiel needed Lucifer.

Castiel spent most of the following week preparing the lake house and adjusting to his current condition as best he could. He’d never quite grasped the concept of “nesting” before, but now he understood better why Dean had become so taken with the Bunker upon discovering it. This small house, barely more than a cottage, had come to mean something special to Castiel as he prepared it for this child. He wanted it to be a suitable home for this new life to be welcomed into the world. 

Using a combination of grace and his own physical labor, he cleaned the dusty floors and windows, painted the walls in bright colors suitable to what he’d read a child would enjoy. He tended to the grounds outside and used a “magic” credit card once given to him by the Winchesters to buy furnishings to complement the basic ones already provided by the property owner. 

He communed with the growing infant, sensing his pleasure at the work Castiel was doing. The child wasn’t communicating back in full “words” or complete angelic dialogue yet, but Castiel could feel when he was content or anxious, happy or curious. That curiosity often followed when Castiel thought of or talked about Lucifer, to which Castiel would tell him, “Soon, little one. Prdzar el. I will call your father to meet you soon.” 

And now that he had done all that he could do on his own, he was ready to do just that, and to fulfill his promise to Veronika. 

He could send a call out on angel radio to try to reach Lucifer at any time, of course. But Castiel worried about being overheard by any of the other angels; he did not need them intercepting his message and finding out where he was, or anything about his current condition. He feared they would come after the child, consider him an “abomination”—especially given his parental lineage. God alone created angels; nephilim were to be hunted and killed, and a product of two angels, conceived in a manner never experienced before? 

Castiel figured they consider him even more dangerous. 

So he would do this the “human” way instead, with an angelic summoning ritual and spell. It would force Lucifer to appear to him unless he was too severely injured or completely disconnected from the host for some reason. Castiel hoped neither would be the case as he gathered the items for the spell, herbs and holy oil, and then drew the sigil in the dirt outside the home. He lit candles and burned the materials in the summoning bowl, and then called out in Enochian:

Light bringer, one of the four that liveth forever,

I invoke you to show yourself before me.

After a pause he added: “Lucifer, it is Castiel. I have need of your assistance. It is a matter of utmost importance for us both.” 

For a moment, it appeared there would be no answer. Then Castiel heard the thunderclap of archangel wings and turned to find Lucifer standing behind him, the arms of his vessel crossed and the familiar smirk of Nick Flannagan on his face.

“Castiel,” he said, eyes roaming up and down Veronika’s body. “You’re looking…shapely.”

Castiel nodded in greeting. “Lucifer. I am relieved to see you well. I also observe that I’m not the only one who has recovered an old vessel.”

“Pfft, this old thing? Yeah, suppose so. Crowley made it for me, pretty sweet, huh?” He turned around in a full circular motion so Castiel could see it all. “It’s new and improved, even! Won’t start falling apart on me like the O.G. Nick. So if I can’t have Sammy—and don’t worry, I’m leaving the Winchester bros alone, scout’s honor—this’ll do quite fine. Unless you wanna loan me your other body again,” he finished, waggling his eyebrows. 

“No.”

Lucifer shrugged. “Suit yourself. And I was starting to appreciate it so very much. But I gotta say this one’s got plenty to admire, too.”

Castiel appreciated the compliments, but not the distraction from more pressing matters at hand. “Why would Crowley, of all people, have done that for you? After the way we—you—treated him until his escape and reclamation of Hell?”

“He thought he could keep me on a leash. You see, he rebuilt good ol’ Nick’s body but tried to install some ‘fail safes’ in it. So I couldn’t hurt him. Hah! He forgot I’ve still got plenty of demons in low places loyal to me. But enough about little old me. Do tell, Cassie, what’s with the body swap?”

“Can’t you see why it was necessary?”

“No.”

Castiel huffed and rolled his eyes. He couldn’t tell if Lucifer was being serious or willfully dense just to annoy him. “Look with your angelic eyes, not your human ones. What do you see?”

Lucifer’s eyes flared red for a moment and Castiel could practically feel them scanning through his body and into his grace, his trueform. And then he stepped back, looking as shocked as Castiel had felt when he first realized what was going on. “Why, you’ve got a bun in the oven!”

“More precisely, I have our ‘bun in the oven.’ From what I have determined, this is a side effect of sharing a single vessel. And why it is not an encouraged practice, besides the fact that most humans could not tolerate that much grace within them.”

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle—or actually, a baby daddy!” He let out a hoot of delight and Castiel barely had time to brace himself before the archangel had swooped in to lift him off his feet in a delighted embrace.

“Please put me down before I vomit on you.”

“All righty then.” Lucifer obliged quickly. “Morning sickness already?”

“Research informs me it is worst in the first trimester. Although how closely my pregnancy with this child will mirror a strictly human one, I have no idea. He seems mostly angelic but with an innate human form as well.”

“He? Oh, I bet he’s gonna be a bruiser, just like his daddy! Or one of his daddies, or…should I call you mommy now?”

Castiel shrugged. “Gender is irrelevant to me. This exchange of vessels is only for the necessity of proper nurturing of the child.”

“Whatever floats your boat. So…knocked up and on the run? I guess that’s why all the angel and demon-proofing around this place? Took me a while to home in on where you were at when I heard the dulcet tones of your foghorn voice summoning me.”

“Yes. I imagined neither Heaven nor Hell would be particularly pleased with this news. Nor have I informed the Winchesters of why I needed to depart their company for the time being.”

“Yeah, well, I’m tellin’ ya, you’ll be better off without ’em. Good thing I’m here for you, though. While I appreciate the hard work you’ve put into protecting this place, it is a little…shabby-chic for the son of Satan. Heir to the Throne of Heaven and Hell. Let me set you and the little one up in a real palace worthy of the precious cargo you’re carrying and I’ll—”

“No,” Castiel interrupted him. “I like it here. The child likes it here, too. And I want him to understand and appreciate simplicity and modest human joys, not just excess.”

“You would.”

“That said, there is a leak in the northeastern corner of the roof I have not been able to find and fix properly. If you can lend a hand to that and help with some other repairs…”

“Fine. Done.” Lucifer snapped his fingers. “What else?”

“There is one more crucial matter we must discuss.”

Lucifer spread his arms. “Lay it on me.”

“You need to marry me. Before the child is born.”

It took a lot to surprise or shock Lucifer. Yet he now stood before Cas, mouth open and all of his many angelic eyes blinking rapidly. “I need to do what?”

“It is a promise I made to the soul of this vessel. She believes strongly in the sanctity of marriage, and I made a promise to her in exchange for the resurrection of her body.”

“And she’s been dead for how long now?”

“Irrelevant. Will you assist me?”

“Of course. We’re gonna be a family now, Cassie! Well, more so than ever, I suppose. So if you won’t let me set you up in a more elegant domicile for my baby—”

“—our baby—”

“—then let me at least make preparations for a wedding suitable for, well…me!”

Castiel put his hand on his stomach and felt the contented energy there. The child was pleased, sensing Cas’s relief and the presence of his other parent. “Thank you,” Castiel said. “Just, nothing too excessive. A modest ceremony would be fine and indeed preferred.”

“I promise I won’t break the bank. Or too many bankers in order to get what I need to do this right.”

“Lucifer, please don’t—”

“Gotta run, got a wedding to plan. My wedding, hah! Imagine that!”

Lucifer was off again in a burst of wings and light, leaving Castiel to sigh and only be able to pray that the archangel—for once—would not go overboard.

“Fat chance,” he mutterred to himself.

Castiel had suffered torture at the hands of countless demons and fellow angels in the past. The leviathan had torn him apart from the inside out. The very archangel now sharing his human body had once atomized him with a snap of his fingers.

But none of that was quite comparable to having the sister of God tormenting him, determined to bring him to the very edge of destruction repeatedly while trying to get God’s attention. If not for the archangel’s grace enveloping his own, shielding him from the worst of the assault, he’d have long since been wiped out of existence.

“Come on, brother, come out to meet me in a fair battle! Before I destroy your favorite!” Amara cried out to the Heavens, to God, her own true voice full of wrath and anger. “Lucifer refuses to call upon you himself, so I will not stop until there is nothing left of the one you used to lock me away.”

Castiel heard his human voice screaming as she blasted his body once again with her power. Lucifer’s screams were even louder, rattling the ground, threatening to topple the entire structure they were bound within if she did not stop soon.

Her attacks were unlike angelic smiting, nor the suffocating smoke or tearing claws of a demon. No, her energy was that of pure chaos; Castiel could feel the edges of his trueform wavering. He felt like barely a hummingbird of grace in the shadow of Lucifer’s mighty eagle after days of this torment. But he still tried to lend what strength he possessed to help fight her off, thinking of the world beyond that they needed to protect and save before she destroyed it all.

Just when he was sure that they could take no more—that she must have finally decided to destroy them both for good—the assault ceased. Lucifer focused through one human eye not swollen shut as she smirked at them.

“You will break. Soon,” Amara promised, her voice now silky and cold as she caressed his sweat-drenched cheek. “And I will have my revenge on my brother and the world, the humans, he abandoned us all for.”

“Maybe you should go have a Snickers bar,” Lucifer croaked out, Castiel tasting blood in his mouth. “No one’s themself when they’re hungry. Though maybe you were just born to be a bi—ow!”

She slapped his face before he could finish, then slipped away to wherever she went when not trying to burn the grace out of them both.

Castiel found his consciousness being dragged back to the bunker. Lucifer slumped down across the kitchen table from him, pale and bloodied, looking as bedraggled and beaten as Castiel felt.

“Well, that was fun,” Lucifer said. He coughed and raised his hand to his mouth, then grimaced. “I think I just swallowed some lung.”

“Are you alright?”

“No, not in the slightest. But, I’ll survive to see another day. You?”

“Same.”

“Thanks for the help.”

Castiel tried to shrug, but even that minor effort in his head was too much to manage right now. “It was insufficient. Barely anything.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I could feel you holding me steady, offering support against her. Who would’ve thought it’d ever come down to this, eh? You ’n me, down in the trenches together, fighting side by side.”

“It will not matter much if this does not end soon. We will both perish.”

“Yeah, well…maybe that’s not the worst thing that could happen.”

Castiel frowned. “How can you say that? We’re not even talking about just the end of Earth and the death of humanity. Amara wishes to wipe it all out of existence! No souls, no afterlife…nothing.”

“There are worse fates than nothingness, Castiel. Try spending millennia in a locked cage with no one but your own self for company. Not even anyone to torture or share the suffering with until Sam, Adam, and Michael came along.” Lucifer snorted. “None of ‘em were the most stimulating company, either.”

“I concede that must have been horrific.”

“Dad’s sense of justice has always been extreme. I mean, if he loved humanity so much, why’d he let Hell come into being the way he did, hmm? His favorite creation, and he’ll allow the corruption of so many souls, let them wither and turn to smoke just for one poor decision, or making a shitty deal. So maybe that’s why I sympathize with Amara—to some degree, anyway. We both got locked away by God. And then he just fucked off anyway instead of watching over the creation he supposedly cared so much about.”

Castiel shook his head. “I have no simple answers for you. I have questioned much myself.”

“Ah well.” Lucifer rolled his neck. “I wonder if she’ll leave us alone long enough so I could recharge the batteries a bit. Take a nap.”

“We can go to one of the bedrooms here. Lie down for a while if it’ll help.”

“Will it?”

“Probably not very much.”

“Well, anything’s better than nothing.” Lucifer fell silent for a moment, looking at Castiel. He then reached across to take Castiel’s hands in his own, the touch warm, the appreciation in his eyes surprisingly sincere. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Are we, like, having a moment?”

“I am not sure I understand what you mean.”

Lucifer chuckled and shook his head. “Ah, Castiel. You’re actually kind of cute when you’re clueless, you know that? C’mon, let’s go have a cuddle.”

Castiel saw nothing of Lucifer for the week that followed. That might have given him pause, or reason to think Lucifer was getting “cold feet” about the idea of marriage. However, packages arrived daily full of baby supplies, everything from a fancy stroller to an elaborate “Bounce and Play” which took Castiel most of a day to figure out how to assemble. Bulk boxes of diapers came after that, and then crates of stuffed animals and other toys until the nursery room was nearly full to bursting.

“While I thank you, I do not believe we should spoil the child to such excess,” Castiel communicated via phone when Lucifer at last called to check in on the status of his gifts.

“Nonsense. Nothing’s too much for my kid. Or my baby mamma. Still feeling like tossing the cookies all the time?”

“No, that has thankfully passed. As I suspected, this pregnancy is advancing far quicker than a normal human one.” Castiel placed a hand on his quickly swelling abdomen. “Where are you, anyway? We need to move forward on the marriage if I am to keep my promise to Veronika.”

“Just finalizing some arrangements today. Don’t worry, I’ll be there to sweep you off your feet for the wedding of the century soon!”

“Must you turn it into such a production?”

“Absolutely. Just give me another day or so and everything will be ready to go.”

Castiel had no choice, he supposed. So he kept simply working on the house and communing with the child growing within him, imagining how his life and purpose in existence were about to change so dramatically in the very near future.

*

Two days later, in the early morning hours, Castiel heard a knock at the front door. Assuming it was yet another delivery, he got up and went to answer, mentally trying to figure out what on Earth he could still possibly need for the baby.

Instead of the mail carrier or a delivery truck driver, however, Castiel found a nervous-looking cherub. “C-Castiel?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes.”

“By command of Lucifer—who threatened to disintegrate me if I didn’t comply—I am here to deliver an invitation to you. To apparently your own wedding. Do you accept?”

“Uh, yes, of course.”

“Oh, thank God.” The cherub exhaled with relief and handed over a cream-colored envelope sealed with red wax. Castiel opened it and read the text, which proclaimed:

Lucifer, Last Standing Archangel, Light-Bringer, Morningstar and All Around Badass

Requests the pleasure of your company

At his marriage to

Castiel, Angel of Thursday, Outcast of Heaven and Molotov Cocktail Enthusiast

Saturday, the Fifteenth of April

Two Thousand and Seventeen

At Two o’clock in the Afternoon

The Devil’s Bridge, Torcello, Italy

Dinner and Sacrifices to follow

Castiel frowned, thinking. “Two o’clock in Italy, that’s…”

“…In ten minutes, yes sir. Ma’am. Sorry, I’m not sure which you prefer.”

“Uh, either is fine. But I…nevermind,” he said, first looking to the kitchen where his coffee remained barely touched. He’d wanted to just get this done with, so he’d best not complain now that Lucifer was ready.

“Do you need me to escort you there?” the cherub asked.

“No, I know the location.” Torcello was an island in the Venetian lagoon. The first lagoon island settled after the fall of the Roman Empire, in fact, by those fleeing the mainland after Attila the Hun destroyed cities and settlements in 452 CE. Castiel wondered if there was any significance to the location beyond the name of the bridge, though he knew the island to be sparsely populated today and not popular with tourists beyond those avid to explore history.

“Good, because I have other guests to collect.”

“Other guests?”

But the cherub was gone before Castiel could get further answers. Castiel made sure to lock up and, after just a quick sip of his coffee, unfurled his wings and took flight.

*

He landed at the foot of the bridge, a simple stone structure crossing the island’s small canal. Nestled amidst farmland and a few old homes, today the bridge was decorated with colorful floral displays, red rose petals scattered everywhere. A violin quartet on the opposite side of the canal played “Summer” from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. Castiel squinted upward in the afternoon sunlight to find Lucifer standing proudly at the top of the bridge, a nervous-looking young priest beside him.

Lucifer wore a simple yet refined outfit: dark slacks paired with a chestnut-brown tunic top. He’d combed his hair neatly and now had a short beard, which made his vessel look more mature and stately.

It was curious; Castiel rarely found himself swayed or fixated on romantic thoughts or ideas. Even when he’d fallen human, his urges for companionship had been more about discovering the pleasures of mortal sexuality than seeking a partner to “love,” like the way always talked and written about in the media that Metatron had downloaded into his consciousness.

What exactly his feelings were for Lucifer at this time, he was not entirely certain about. A part of him still resisted seeing the archangel as anything other than the adversary. Yet they had been through an experience together that no one else could understand, nor have shared. Two angels joining their grace in one vessel had been unheard of before, and it had given Castiel something he hadn't quite realized he’d been missing until then.

A feeling that someone actually saw him for who he really was. And didn’t hate him for it, or want to reprogram him to fall back in line.

“Castiel, cat got your tongue?” Lucifer called, waving to him to step up on the bridge. Castiel did, as the quartet switched to playing the Bridal March.

“Hello, Lucifer.”

“Hey, hot stuff.”

“So. Why did you choose this place?” Castiel asked.

Lucifer shrugged. “Well, you gotta admit, Devil’s Bridge? The name is pretty cool, even if the legends about it are bunk. I never made any pact with any witch on this island since, you know, caged up for millennia and all. Was probably just some run-of-the-mill crossroads demon with delusions of grandeur. But anyway, I thought it was fitting, and the restaurant right up the way makes some kick ass risotto for our reception guests. Plus, it’s a perfect starting point to take a little honeymoon sojourn in Venice, don’t cha think?”

Castiel looked all around. “Who are these reception guests of which you speak? I see no one here except the priest and the quartet.”

“Right, right.” Lucifer snapped his fingers. Suddenly, there were no longer just the three of them on the bridge but a small gathering of grey-suited individuals at the foot of the crossing, right where Castiel had first landed.

Castiel recognized them all.

Naomi. Dumah. Kelvin. Joshua.

Some of the highest ranking of the remaining angels in Heaven. Some of the few who remained alive today.

“Lucifer, what is the meaning of this!” Naomi began harshly as she stepped forward, the quartet falling silent. She then paused and frowned. “Castiel?”

“Yes.”

“What is the meaning of this?!”

“You’re here to witness the beginning of a new era on Earth—but more importantly, I’d say, in Heaven, too,” Lucifer explained. “You see, this fine little lady with me is pregnant with my child.”

A gasp went through the crowd of the fifteen angels assembled, blades drawing down from sleeves even as Lucifer raised his hands to stop them. “Ah ah ah—don’t you try anything. You know I can disintegrate you as quickly as I popped your feathery asses down here. None of you are even a fraction as strong as I am, and I know you’re all getting weaker by the day.” He paused, focusing on Naomi. “Heaven’s dying, isn’t it? Don’t deny it; I could feel it when I was up there myself.”

“If it is, then it’s the fault of you two right before us now,” Ishim said with a sneer. “Castiel, how is it you can carry such an abomination when once you stood at our side, dedicated to killing a nephilim? I knew you had fallen low, but to lie down with Lucifer? Did you actually switch vessels just to make this happen?”

“This happened because of our sharing a vessel, something no one ever warned us could take place. At least not that I can remember,” Castiel said, casting a narrowed gaze at Naomi.

“And you can shove any thoughts about killing this kid out of your minds if you don’t want me to strip what’s left of your broken wings clean off,” Lucifer growled at the other angels, his eyes flashing red. “Besides, he’s not really a nephil. He’s…something no one’s seen before. And he’s mine and Cassie’s and I just so happen to believe he’ll be the only chance we have to save Heaven at this point. Because of the power he’ll posses. If you all don’t believe me, ask Naomi. She knows how bad things are upstairs, don’t you?”

All the other angels turned to Naomi, who was clearly displeased at having the spotlight forced upon her. “I hate to say it, but Lucifer is correct,” she admitted. “With God gone and so few angels left, we barely have enough grace and power to keep all the souls of Heaven safe. We grow weaker by the day, and yet…I can sense the power of the child Castiel is carrying, and it seems stronger than even an archangel alone.”

“But surely we cannot trust the great deceiver!” Miriam protested. “And nephil or not, the child is still…unholy! Unnatural!”

“But we may need more children like it if our kind is to survive,” Naomi countered. “If…Lucifer and Castiel’s little ‘experiment’ with vessel-sharing worked, perhaps we will all have to take part in the same, in order to boost our numbers once more.”

“Hey now, before you all start talking about swapping grace and getting nasty like that, there’s going to be some game rules,” Lucifer objected.

Naomi grimaced. “Such as?”

“No one touches Castiel. Or the kid.”

She rolled her eyes.“Fine. Agreed.”

“You can keep on keepin’ on with all your bureaucratic work up beyond the pearly gates. But I will be the one in charge of things. At least until our kid is mature enough for the job.”

“But—”

“You guys need the juice of an archangel and you know it. So. Shall we get this show on the road? I gotta get this poor priest back to Santa Maria degli Angeli before his evening Mass, or he passes out from distress.” Lucifer patted the wide-eyed, nervous man on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, signore. I’ll wipe your mind of all of this before putting you back, and there’s only a five percent chance of permanent brain damage when I do so.”

“I agree. Let’s get this over with so I can assure Veronika my promise to her has been kept,” Castiel said.

“Oh, one last thing!” Lucifer held up his left hand while fishing in his right pants pocket. “In honor of tradition, I thought I should point out that here today, we have something old—that would be me, of course. Something new—the child of our union, the likes of which have never been seen. Something borrowed—your current vessel, of course. And last but not least, something blue.”

Lucifer took out a blue choker necklace with a cameo pendant in the middle, carved to reveal a delicate portrait of Castiel’s current form. Castiel bowed his head to allow Lucifer to fasten it around his neck and then stepped back slightly to observe how it looked. “There. Why it brings out the blue of your eyes,” he said with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a ring for you, too.”

“I have no need of decorative jewelry. But…thank you.”

“All right.” Lucifer clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly. “Lets’s do this. Father? I think it should all be the same old, same old from here on out.”

The priest drew a deep, shaky breath and began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of…God?”

He turned nervously to Lucifer, who shrugged and said, “Close enough.”

“.…to unite this…angel and archangel…in uh, holy matrimony. Marriage is a sacred and joyous covenant, which should be entered into revenantly. Husband and wife should give to each other companionship, comfort, and support in times of prosperity as well as in times of adversity. Marriage has been guarded and esteemed through the ages for…”

The recitation went on and on, the standard marriage dialog and vows as much as was possible given the rather unique circumstances. And as odd as the situation might have seemed, Castiel began to understand why Veronika had wanted this stipulation for their arrangement.

There was something to sealing their union in this formal way. A sacred way. Castiel’s grace burned stronger within him as he envisioned a future with this child who had brought about such an unexpected union—one which, against all odds, might actually lead to the salvation of this world and the heavens, not the apocalypse as originally destined.

“…Lucifer and Castiel, please face one another. Lucifer, repeat after me…”

The final vows were exchanged, rings not made of gold but forged of angel blade placed on each other’s fingers.

“…In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Lucifer, you may kiss your bride.”

The quartet launched into a spritely rendition of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March, and at the sound of muted applause from the gathered angels, Lucifer leaned in close and said, “So, my dear, how does it feel to be the bride of Satan?”

Castiel declined to answer in words. Instead, he offered an example of what he’d learned from watching the pizza man and the babysitter some many years ago.

“Now, I am very well aware that angels do not require sustenance from food, and neither do souls in Heaven. I still insist you at least try a piece of the Easter bread, if not a bowl of my borscht.”

“I am afraid it will only taste like molecules to me, even in Heaven,” Castiel declined as politely as he could. “However, I’m sure Jack would like to try a taste. Wouldn’t you, Jack?”

The bright eyed, golden blond babe in Castiel’s lap nodded and smiled up happily at him as he grabbed a chunk of the sweet, eggy bread in his small fist. After taking a taste, his eyes lit up so brightly they glowed and his wings puffed out such that he almost lifted right up into the air. “Mmm!” he mumbled in approval, crumbs dribbling out of the corners of his mouth.

Veronika laughed in response. “Well, to have such appreciation for this food, he must have some of the Novak blood in him after all.”

“Along with my devilish good looks and ability to charm the ladies,” Lucifer put in, winking at Veronika and then reaching over to ruffle the child’s hair.

“I am quite certain Jack has inherited the best qualities of both of his divine parents, along with enough humanity to guide him to make good choices in life. To be good,” Castiel said. “And to, perhaps, guide us all down a more righteous path.”

“Let us hope so,” Veronika agreed.

Jack’s birth had taken place two months after the wedding, a relatively peaceful experience given both Lucifer and Castiel could use their grace to ease the child into the world. Castiel had chosen the name, wanting something simple and non-angelic to help keep him “grounded” in the face of the tremendous power he possessed.

He was a bright and cheerful boy, eager to absorb all the knowledge about the world that he could. There could be a fiery edge to his tantrums, but they were quick to burn out whenever Castiel soothed him. He enjoyed watching the insects and animals outside their home on the lake, as well as the daring flights Lucifer would take him on to show him the rest of the world from up high on angel wings.

This was his first visit to Heaven since birth, to be formally introduced to the other angels, as well as to meet Veronika. And even those angels who had been most appalled at Castiel and Lucifer’s union had to admit the child radiated light and goodness. For the first time in many years, Heaven was filled with hope.

“How will you be spending your time split between Earth and Heaven, now that Jack is here?” Veronika asked.

Lucifer shrugged. “We’re not entirely sure. Right, Cassie?”

“That is correct. Although I am fond of the home where Jack was born, we are worried about the future of what was once our original home. Heaven.”

“What’s wrong with Heaven?” Veronika asked.

“Everything!” Lucifer supplied, launching into an explanation of their current situation. “I felt it the first time I stepped foot in those corridors since getting kicked out by dad. There’s almost no juice left to keep the lights on. Certainly with no archangels takin’ care of business.”

“And since I caused such a loss of angelic life in our civil war, and then the fall. When Metatron tricked me into causing the angels to fall, it was because he promised we were going to close the Gates of Heaven. Lock up all the angels here, where we belonged, leave Earth and humanity alone. Humans sort out their problems, we sort out our own. I’m thinking that it could be a good idea to do that for real this time.”

“Ya think?” Lucifer put in.

“Not by force, but by choice. Either stay here and help us help Heaven or fall back to Earth and do good there. But no more fighting, no more wars.” Castiel looked at Jack, this miraculous child who was the product of such unexpected unity. “I want him to finish his accelerated childhood on Earth so he can hopefully understand humanity and his human side better. But then, I think, we would do well to return permanently to the domain of our kind.”

He would miss the Winchesters and their time on Earth, but he would one day see them again when they crossed the boundary between life and death for the final time. And until then, he would work with Lucifer, Jack and the other remaining angels to repair the damage done to Heaven and make it the paradise it should be.

“Is there anything we can do for you in thanks for how you have helped us?” Castiel asked of Veronika, as they prepared to depart.

“Just promise to stop by now and then, share more updates on the work you are doing, how young Jack is growing up.” She glanced over with a smile at the new photograph resting on her mantle. It was from not long after Jack’s birth; Castiel was still in Veronika’s body, holding the child, while Lucifer proudly lifted both off the ground with a wink and a smile. “More photos would be nice, though I’ll have to explain to Stanley and the boys that it’s my curiously identical cousin in Europe, her husband and child.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem; Castiel is quite the shutter-bug with the camera phone,” Lucifer explained.

“I am unfamiliar with your modern technology, but I will assume that is a good thing.” She kissed the boy on the cheek and smiled as he reached out to grasp her finger in one small, sticky fist. “Goodbye, little one.”

“Buh bye.”

“Alright, Castiel, Jack my boy, let’s head home,” Lucifer said with a clap on the back and a gentle caress.

“Yes. Home.” Castiel very much liked the sound of that. Wherever that might end up being, down the line, he knew Lucifer and Jack would be there at his side.