Archive of Our Own ^beta

Rusted springs of the old mattress Dean was sitting on dug into his ass uncomfortably as he sat flipping channels. Alternating between a rerun of Dr. Sexy, M.D. and a SyFy original movie about killer shark-bees or something. He ought to be looking up info on whatever random monster Sam had found for them to hunt, but he didn’t care at the moment. Sam was in the shower and Dean was apathetic. Wasting time.

Everyday he wondered why the apocalypse hadn’t started and what had happened to the angels. Not knowing really made it difficult to care about much of anything; honestly, it was getting difficult to even go on wondering about it anymore. Maybe today would be the day, and Lilith would bust the 66th seal and all hellfire would sweep across the Earth like a swarm of angry shark-bees. Or maybe today would be like yesterday, so he and Sam should fight another monster. Save more people who were doomed anyway.

It was good for Sam anyway, for his recovery. The routine of hunting monsters was natural to fall into, and with hunting to focus on he hardly woke up in cold sweats at all anymore. Mumbling for Ruby while Dean had to feed him gallons of water, rubbing his back and holding his head against his shoulder until he was calm again, his insatiable thirst temporarily satisfied.

The SyFy movie switched to a commercial so Dean flipped back to Dr. Sexy, who was encouraging a gaggle of nurses to admire his sexy cowboy boots while he spouted some sort of medical jargon that had nothing to do with the plot. Dean tapped the remote control against his temple, contemplating which of the nurses would get to run her hands through Dr. Sexy’s lustrous hair this episode.

Just as the doctor was about to say something compelling, the noise from the TV was drowned out by a strained flutter and a high-pitched cry, followed by a soft whimpering at the foot of Dean’s bed.

Dean crawled across the dingy covers to peer over the edge of the bed, and there was Castiel. Just the same as the last time Dean had seen the angel, in the little girl Claire Novak’s body, only now she was bleeding out all over the carpet.

She had a large gash across her collarbone, and another along the back of her arm, as well as several more superficial cuts. The wounds were losing quite a bit of blood, but they were also shining with a small amount of that hot white grace. It was so faint though, like it was hardly there at all, and Dean wondered if that wasn’t why the body wasn’t healing itself like Cas usually would have done.

“Cas?” Cas!” It seemed like it’d taken forever, but it had only been a few seconds before he was jumping into gear, bundling up the girl in his arms. She fit easily across his lap, and the action was taken without even thinking about it. “Cas! C’mon buddy, heal yourself. Why aren’t you healing yourself?” The last time he’d seen angelic grace it had been through his arm and eyelids, and still it had stung his eyes, made his skin feel like it was going to peel off like a bad sunburn. He could look directly at the light coming from Castiel’s wounds. It was no brighter than a cell phone screen.

Castiel whimpered more, like she was trying to say something, but her eyes rolled back in her head. Dean needed Cas to wake up, to tell him what was going on. Blood was pooling on her chest sticky and slick across the blue t-shirt Claire had been wearing when Castiel took her over. Dean pulled off her cardigan and pressed it tight on the chest wound. Then he grabbed the duffle that had the first aid kit, and stood up with Cas in his arms, carrying the little girl to the bathroom. Her limbs flopped uselessly at his side. The thought of how dim that grace looked plagued his mind and he gulped back the worry that Cas might already be dead. Cas couldn’t be dead. No way, ‘cause Dean hadn’t even realized until now how much he had been missing the angel.

With no free hands, Dean did his best to get the bathroom door open, but mostly he just crashed his shoulder into it, doing his best to keep Cas’ head from smashing into anything.

“Get out! What?” Sam shouted. Dean ignored him and pulled back the shower curtain. Sam scowled and looked ready for a fight until he saw the small girl bleeding all over Dean’s shirt. She was pale now, and her cardigan was sopping with red.

“Is that Cas? What happened?” Sam asked, grabbing a towel off the toilet seat and wrapping it around himself.

“I don’t know,” said Dean grimly, setting her down in the tub gently, letting the water wash the blood away. “He just popped in, bled all over the place and passed out.” Dean set the water colder, hoping that it would wake Cas up, then busied himself getting out gauze and bandages. Sam rummaged through his stuff, quickly pulling on a pair of boxers, then turned to Cas, inspecting her injuries. Shampoo suds still hung in his hair, dripping all over the bathroom when he got up to help find towels to cushion her head.

They were going to have to stitch up the nasty gash across her collarbone for sure, and maybe the one on her arm too, Dean was thinking. He had no idea how long she’d been bleeding either. He hoped she wouldn’t need a blood transfusion. If that angel grace finally kicked in, and Cas’ little body suddenly healed itself, it would be hard to explain to a hospital.

Dean leaned over to try and inspect the wounds more closely, finding where the shirt had been stabbed through to continue a tear. “They’re pretty deep,” said Sam, “but they’re clean. I think whatever did this was meant specifically to be harmful to angels.”

“This is a lot of blood,” said Dean. “I think whatever it was is harmful to humans too.”

Sam purced his lips like everything Dean ever had to say was the opposite of important, and no one should ever need to lighten the mood ever.

“Okay, you’re probably right,” said Dean, “but let’s just get it stitched up.” He grabbed a bottle of disinfectant from Sam and thought maybe the sting of it would wake the angel up. It didn’t, and Dean coughed at the fumes as he liberally wet a cloth and went over the wounds.

Sam, on the ball thinker that he was, twisted the shower to off, and Dean tried to find a good angle to sew up the gash on her clavicle. She was still bleeding, and now that the shower wasn’t washing the blood away, the wounds were getting hard to see again.

“Dean,” Sam passed him a towel. “Get in the tub and hold her so I can reach.”

“I can stitch up a damn cut, Sam.”

“Obviously,” Sam rolled his eyes, wiping more suds from his eyes, “but this is the best way to treat this injury.” He scowled his best ”stop trying to do everything yourself, Dean” face. Dean hated that face, but it was pointless and would only waste time to point out that Sam didn’t always know best, so Dean complied.

Cas was soaking wet now, and when Dean arranged her on his lap, her limp head lolling across his chest, he was relived to find she was shivering. She was definitely still alive then, despite how cold she felt. Dean wanted to rub her arms with his hands, try to get some warmth back into that small body, but that wouldn’t help Sam at all, so he held her up, angling her so Sam could stitch her skin together.

“I don’t remember Cas glowing like this, when he’s been hurt before,” Sam noted out loud. “Have you seen this?”

Dean’s cheek was rubbing against Cas’ hair, holding her head in place so it wouldn’t flop down on her chest where Sam was working. It struck him how human it felt. Soft and soaked, sticking to his skin. Dean couldn’t imagine the Cas he remembered being so human. Then again, that Cas was never unconscious in a bathtub, propped up on his lap. He tried to remember all the times he’d seen Cas hurt and bleeding.

“I don’t think so. At least not when I stabbed him when we first met. Or from any of those times he got thrown into a wall or anything.”

“Can’t be a good sign,” Sam noted, his mouth knit tight in concentration. At least Cas’ skin seemed to contain the grace once it was stitched back together. Dean shifted around in the tub so Sam could decide what to do about her arm now.

“It might be scabbing over, but I can still see it glowing a bit.”

“Even where it’s closed?”

“No, just at the edges. Do you think I should stitch it?”

“You’re the one who’s looking at it,” Dean pointed out. He was holding Cas so that she was breathing into his neck and damn, in all the time he’d known Cas they’d barely even touched. It seemed weird given how close they’d gotten, when Castiel would sneak secret notes into Dean’s dreams, and Dean would follow without question. It’d been over a month since he’d seen Cas and now this… Castiel was the strongest person Dean knew, but he also knew that he associated with angels and archangels.

What if that small glow wasn’t enough? What if it was Claire who was shivering, and Castiel was just a memory?

“I think the scab is good. On a human I wouldn’t stitch this, and it doesn’t look like the grace is going anywhere,” Sam determined, rubbing a damp cloth around the edge of the scab.

“Okay, just gauze it then,” said Dean. Castiel began shivering even more.

Sam shook his head and bandaged up the angel of the lord that looked like a little girl, while she shivered and shook on Dean’s lap. Dean kissed the top of her head and Sam didn’t say anything.

* * * *

Castiel was asleep. Sam had finished his shower, finally rinsing the soap from his hair, and Dean dug through their stuff, finding the smallest t-shirt he owned. Castiel was swimming in it, but at least it was warm and dry, as were the boxer briefs Dean had cinched up with a rubber band so they wouldn’t fall down off Cas’ tiny hips. In hindsight Dean felt a bit awkward about undressing the angel, seeing unclothed skin and fitting arms into sleeves. She was just a little girl, so Dean had no real reason to feel embarrassed. Except that she was also Castiel. At the time though, he hadn’t given a second thought. She was cold and needed to be warm and Dean had done what needed to be done.

That was about six hours ago, and Castiel continued sleeping. But Castiel didn’t sleep.

It wasn’t an ominous, coma-like sleep either. The small girl’s body would sigh and roll over, shifting back whenever she mistakenly began to put pressure on an injury. Occasionally she would attempt to cuddle with the scratchy motel blankets, and then quickly she’d give up when they weren’t comfortable.

Dean stayed up and watched. He’d missed Castiel.

The last Dean had seen her was when Sam was detoxing in the panic room, and she’d been different from the Castiel he knew, for reasons beyond the change in vessel. The angel had gotten his ass hauled off to Angel Bible Camp and come back as this world class dick, walking around in a little girl’s body. The juxtaposition of it was almost absurd. But Sam was locked up and Dean didn’t know what to do. The apocalypse was still going on without them and Dean needed an update, so he stood in Bobby’s salvage yard and screamed and screamed to a Castiel he hardly recognized… In appearance and in personality.

“Hello Dean,” a small voice smiled from behind an old junker. “What do you want?”

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?” Castiel tucked stray blonde hairs behind her ears, and it was weird talking to him… her… whatever. It was weird. She was a lot shorter now, for one.

“You were gonna tell me something. You came into my dreams; it was important.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you just got sent to the principal’s office in heaven to receive a personality transplant, but now it’s not important?”

“Dean, shut up and get to why you really called me here. What are you doing with Sam?”

“I don’t know. Can he actually do it? Can he kill Lilith?”

“Yes. But it is inadvisable. He would have to consume enough demon blood that it would change him forever.”

Dean laughed. ”It would change him forever.” He could imagine the old Cas saying the same thing, but in this new, high-pitched child’s voice it was like a melodramatic setup to a bad movie. Maybe if she had a slightly computerized sounding British accent or something the statement would have more weight to it.

Castiel scowled at him, stepping forward with her chin tipped way up so she should stare directly into Dean’s eyes.

“You would rather it was me,” said Dean. “What do I even do?” He broke off eye contact. He was lost and whining at a little girl. An all-powerful angel, but she had pink shoelaces.

Castiel sighed and didn’t look at him. “You have a role to play here Dean, yes.”

“You want me to ice Lilith.” It was a statement, but he meant it as a question.

Castiel smirked. “Do you give yourself over to the service of God and his angels?”

“What for? You didn’t answer me, Cas.”

Castiel turned and walked a few steps from Dean, looking skyward.

“What were you gonna warn me about Cas?”

“You have a destiny, Dean. I—“

“You need to warn me about my destiny?”

“Just swear your servitude to us. Everything will become clear in time, Dean.”

“No.”

“Dean.”

“No. I’m sick of you and your bosses giving me the run around. Don’t you see? They’re giving you the run around too, Cas. This isn’t—“ Dean sighed. Whatever Cas was trying to get him to promise to, he didn’t think he should do it. Probably it was the thing Cas was going to warn him about a week ago.

“It doesn’t matter, Dean. What I’m asking you to do has long been foretold.”

“What’s been foretold, Cas? It’s my destiny; I’d like some details.”

“I can’t give you that at this time.”

“Oh but you know about them?” Dean asked incredulously.

Cas said nothing.

“Then my answer’s no.”

Dean could tell Castiel was getting frustrated, and really, he was surprised the angel hadn’t fluttered off and left already. The angel bosses must’ve really made clear that this was a job that had to be done. This was important somehow to the angels’ plan, but Dean didn’t give a shit about the angels’ plan unless it could help Sam. And with Castiel so clearly unwilling to spill the goods on this destiny crap, Dean doubted “the plan” would do anything of the sort.

“Please understand Dean,” Castiel began carefully, “With your compliance, there will be no pain anywhere, for anyone. There will be paradise on Earth. All will be forgiven. You and Sam… You will be at peace.”

“Oh, and how’s that?”

“We will… You will… defeat Lucifer,” she stopped and looked up, as though worried she might be smote down any second now. Dean guessed she wasn’t supposed to tell him that. More nervously, she continued, “It’s the only way, Dean. This is how it has to be. I’m sorry that it has to end this way. We’ve been through much together, you and I, but this is—“

“No Cas…” Dean tried to rewind all that Castiel was saying, replaying it all and hearing what parts she’d left out. It was like the angels actually wanted the apocalypse to happen. Or at least for Lucifer to get out… How else could Dean be expected to kill the bastard?

So the angels wanted Dean… Dean to kill the devil. So they were going to let him out? And what, burn the globe?

“No freaking way.”

“What?”

“No way. You guys wanna dick over the planet? That’s your business. But me and Sam… People, families, that’s ours. And then it’s our job to stop you. There’s a right and a wrong here Cas, and you know it.”

Dean realized that he was sort of towering over the now much shorter angel, but she was still Castiel. Still had all this lightening sharp power, barely contained behind steely stares. She looked away, then disappeared, leaving Dean with no answers about Sam, and too many about himself.

That had been almost two months ago. Two months of helping Bobby with old cars while they worried about Sam. Two months of looking for signs of seals breaking and of Lucifer’s release into the world. Two months of forgetting about Castiel and focusing on what was in front of him. But now that it was Castiel in front of him, Dean knew that he’d missed the angel. He missed that thought that someone was looking after him, because somehow, he was chosen. That he could actually do something to redeem all the evil he’d done, even though the thought of such a task terrified him. But Castiel would’ve helped him.

Mostly he missed the guy himself, Castiel, because there was a sweetness to him. A determination to do his very best to do the very best thing, and Dean wanted to help him.

And now Castiel was asleep. Asleep and not healing her body’s injuries, and still not answering any of Dean’s questions, although that may just be do to her continued unconsciousness. She was cute, sleeping there, and it was hard for Dean to think of her as more than a little girl when she was all soft snores and tousled hair. Not big talk of destiny and Heaven, and completely lacking in that crackling power that made the air seem thin. Dean blamed that on the dimness of what he assumed to be Castiel’s grace. Would that ever get better?

Sam was sleeping in his bed, while Cas was in Dean’s, and Dean just watched her sleep until his eyes were bleary. He did his best to blink them awake. He needed to be here and awake when Cas woke up. Couldn’t take the chance that she’d be well enough to fly off and disappear for months on end, like she’d just dropped by for free medical care and a nap, but couldn’t stay for the free grilled cheese and interrogation.

Dean shook his head awake again. Maybe if he were sleeping in his bed, he’d notice if she woke up. The bed would shift and wake him, he thought. This was stupid, but SyFy had already played three other movies and had come back around to the shark-bees again, and if he accidentally fell asleep on the chair, he’d definitely miss it when Cas woke up.

He crawled into bed next to the angel, warily keeping an eye on her, as though she might wake up this very second. She didn’t, and Dean sunk into the blankets only to find Castiel was an impossible bed hog. She rolled over, attempting to cuddle the stupid motel blanket once more, then kicked Dean in the shin three times. And she needed her toenails clipped, holy crap. Dean might actually be bleeding.

Of course, as soon as Dean gave it up and left the bed, her legs and feet calmed, and she realized once again that the blanket was uncomfortable, pushing it aside. Dean shook his head and sat next to her, on top of the covers. He hoped she’d wake up by morning, and that as soon as the shark-bees had their rampage across the southwest cut short by some sort of nuclear attack, that the infomercials would be entertaining.

* * * *

When Castiel woke up the first thing she noticed was how the pillowcase her nose was pressed into smelled like old fast food wrappers. And a bit like Dean Winchester, but mostly fast food wrappers.

Second was the dull ache where Zachariah’s blade had sliced into the vessel Claire Novak’s shoulder. Or really, Cas revised, into her shoulder. Because she’d been cut off from Heaven, and the further she fell toward humanity, the more difficult it was becoming to hold on to the human girl’s soul. It was so ready to move on, but that wasn’t fair. Castiel knew Dean would be upset for her and her life unlived, so Castiel was too. Determined to keep her around, even if it was hard to imagine Claire was ever going to get her life back.

The shoulder wound had been cleaned and stitched and bandaged, and even the smaller wound on her arm had gotten attention from the Winchesters expert care. Castiel sat up and took in the immediate situation. Both Winchester’s were asleep, Sam on the bed opposite, and Dean next to her, holding a TV remote and sitting slumped over, as though he’d been attempting an all-night vigil when sleep had taken him. Castiel had slept through most of the night, and dawn was just beginning to peek through the slits in the curtains.

She’d been here way too long. By now Zachariah had to know of her location, and thus, the location of the Winchesters. More importantly, Zachariah would know that Castiel had made contact. She couldn’t fly away in this state; the only way out would be on foot, and then what? Castiel didn’t know.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, leaning over Dean. She was wearing one of his t-shirts and it hung baggy around her much smaller frame. The other shirt, the blue shirt of Claire Novak, must’ve been ruined. Stabbed through and covered in blood.

“Dean,” she said again, more insistently.

“Wha?”

“I grew weary of watching you sleep,” Castiel lied. They needed to get out of here, but this wasn’t the time to bring up the danger they were in. That would just lead to questions they didn’t have time for.

It took Dean a second, but suddenly he bolted upright so quickly he almost fell from the bed. He caught himself on the nightstand, which scraped loudly across the floor a couple inches.

Castiel felt a smile bubble up in her chest and couldn’t suppress a giggle. The loud sound of the nightstand woke Sam.

“Castiel, what happened?” Dean was pointedly ignoring how Cas was still smiling at his clumsiness. “You just showed up…Wha—What’s going on? What happened to you?”

Castiel looked closely at Dean, trying to meet his eyes. How could she communicate that the last time they’d spoken, Dean had been right? How could she show him that she knew that now? How had she never really appreciated before how gorgeous Dean’s eyes were, even when he’d just woken up and there was gunk caked in the corners?

“Zachariah stabbed me,” she said, matter of fact. “Under most circumstances an angel would be able to heal such wounds entirely after several hours and with much rest, but these are not most circumstances.”

“Most circumstances?” Sam asked.

Castiel glanced his direction, then looked down and began fussing with the blanket, picking pills off and dropping them into her lap. Indeed there were extenuating circumstances regarding her injuries, the least of which being how it was caused by an angel’s blade. She didn’t really want to talk about it. An angel disconnected from Heaven, she didn’t know if she’d ever heal. At best it would take days.

“We can discuss such matters soon, but we should leave here immediately. Even now I fear I’ve lingered here too long, and I regret putting you two in danger. Hurry to dress and gather your things.”

“Cas I—“

“Go. Prepare to leave. And where are the clothes that belong to this vessel?” Even if Claire Novak were never to return claim to her body, it seemed wrong to loose track of her things—the last vestiges of the girl’s barely lingering consciousness.

“Um, those clothes are pretty bloody, Cas,” said Sam.

“You’ll need to use your angel mojo on them,” suggested Dean, passing her the damp clothing.

“Yes, I worried as much.” Cas rubbed her thumb over the soft fabric of the t-shirt. She could dry the shirt and jeans, removing their stains, but it would require a lot of effort. She could still feel her skin pulling at the stitches one of the Winchesters had put there, however there was nothing she would be able to do to heal it. Even for a very powerful angel, the only thing that could heal such a wound would be time.

In the meantime, so much of Cas’ energy was spent healing that all her angel abilities were impaired. She couldn’t just fly away, and she was beginning to experience what she strongly suspected was hunger. It took a lot of energy to heal both a human body and an angel, and without her abilities she couldn’t generate it on her own. Cas’ stomach gurgled and almost felt as though it were flipping over, trying to prove how empty it was.

Sam and Dean were shoving legs into jeans and stuffing yesterday’s clothes and the med kit into duffle bags. Castiel scooted to sit at the end of the bed.

“Are you gonna angel those up and get dressed? I thought we were in a hurry here,” said Dean.

“That would be lovely. Perhaps it would be better to obtain new clothes.” Castiel looked resignedly at the jeans. There was a bright red stain of blood all down the left side of them. She wasn’t stupid about what this particular society of humanity found acceptable to dress in, and she knew that while Dean’s shirt was oversized on her, it would suffice. One would not consider her to be a very fashionable girl, but there would be no great problem.

The pants were a different matter. Someone had dressed her in a pair of Dean’s underwear, then bunched the extra fabric into a ponytail-like configuration, binding it with a rubber band. It worked to keep the clothes on, and indeed it was a great measure more comfortable to sleep in than would have been the damp, bloodied jeans, but this was not something that was going to be “okay” to wear outside. She didn’t know if she’d be able to clean the jeans. Just thinking about it was, in the past, quite enough to restore any object to it’s previous state, but clearly not in this instance. Cas had been thinking about the clothes, and how they should look, quite a lot in the past few minutes and nothing had happened.

She closed her eyes and focused on the jeans, thinking just about the stain and making it go away. The pants had gotten all wet somehow, but she didn’t bother with that. Damp clothes were wearable, would dry on their own, and not nearly so suspicious looking as a large patch of blood. Just on the bloodstain. It shouldn’t be there. Worn, blue denim goes there, clean, with no blood.

Castiel opened one eye to peek at her progress and indeed, the red was now more of a light pink color. She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating so hard her forehead hurt. She wondered if all human’s foreheads hurt when they concentrated very hard on something very difficult.

When she opened her eyes once more she felt dizzy, like maybe she accidentally hadn’t been breathing. Sam and Dean were both staring at her. “You okay?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” she said, and smiled. Or, she hoped it was a smile. She was definitely hungry now. “My jeans are cleaned enough that I can go out. Should we have breakfast?”

* * * *

Dean brought them all to a diner, of the sort that he usually stopped at. Castiel had ordered French toast and bacon, with root beer to drink. Dean stared at her from across the booth. He’d picked the boogers from his eyes now, and for all the times she’d spent staring back into them, it was a marvel she’d never appreciated their beauty the way she did now. Intellectually she’d loved everything about Dean, but this was different. They made her head feel like it was filled with bubbles. Plus, he kept looking at her. “What?” she asked.

“I didn’t know you ate, is all,” said Dean. Sam slid into the booth next to him, passing Dean a mug of coffee.

“I can eat. I… Should eat. Dean, I—“ She stopped, not really feeling comfortable with finishing the thought. The safety of the Winchesters should be the main focus, not whatever hardships lay before her. She focused her gaze instead on her fork.

“Spill it Cas. I know something’s up with you; I’m not stupid. You’re in trouble with your Heaven bunch, right?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t deny him this answer. It was obvious and it was correct.

“So why don’t you spell out the consequences for us?” said Sam, looking more demanding than puppy-dog eyed.

“The fact is,” Cas started, “is that you two, and now I, are being watched. Since the moment you and I last spoke, Dean, you have not been entirely alone. All sides have eyes on you.”

Cas watched as the Winchesters worked that out. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew this was all very dramatic, and that made her want to giggle. She didn’t. It was a weird impulse that seemed to come with this vessel. The human impulses pushing through more and more, the more human the angel became.

But all sides meant just that… All sides. The angels in Heaven, the demons in Hell, all the angels and demons in between… All sides. And with the exception of only a few, Castiel included, all of them wanted Lucifer to walk free.

The man who was capable of making that happen was sitting across from her, stirring creamer into his coffee. And the angel who had kept him from that destiny was sitting on damp pockets and wearing an oversized black t-shirt, and ravenous for French toast. The three of them were all in the same place now, and the situation was remarkably tenuous. Castiel couldn’t believe they hadn’t been attacked already.

“Who exactly is ‘all sides’?” Sam asked. “Who’s watching us?”

“Everyone. Everyone you can think of. Angels, demons… There was a larger endgame that failed to play out. Anyone who was involved in the apocalypse; they are watching you. Us.”

“Okay,” Dean thought out loud. “So everyone’s watching me and Sam. No one’s making a move…. Because… Because if they did, then everyone else would see it? Because they know that the other guys are watching us.”

“Precisely,” beamed Castiel, just as their food arrived.

Dean looked around ominously, like now that it had been said out loud, they would be attacked within the next few minutes. “Great. I always wanted to be stuck in the middle of some great biblical standoff.”

“I’m glad I could be the one to help you achieve your goals then,” said Cas, not quite sure if she was being successful at sarcasm. She was, at least, certain that Dean had been speaking sarcastically.

There was butter that came with the French toast, but it was far too much bother. Castiel was starving; she wanted to eat the food now. However, pouring most of the bottle of maple syrup all over everything on her plate took almost no time at all. She then stabbed a slice of the sweetly toasted bread with a fork and lifted it to her mouth.

It was more difficult to eat than anticipated. The fork impaled the food entirely, and it fell onto her hand, making it sticky. She lifted it to her face anyway and began to eat it.

Then it was gone. It had been so delicious and her stomach had begged for it and then she’d eaten it. All so fast. She did the same with the next piece, and then chomped on a slice of bacon before realizing the syrup had smeared all over her face. It was surprisingly sticky, and now her long blonde hairs were getting stuck to her cheeks.

“Are they watching us now?” Sam asked seriously.

“Of course. I have no way to stop them,” said Cas, but she was really wondering how humans managed to eat without getting so much of their food on their face and hands. It seemed the more she tried to be deliberate about what she did with the fork and how she picked up the food, the more syrup dripped down the front of her shirt.

“Then why haven’t… Why aren’t we swimming in angels and demons right now?” Sam wondered.

“That’s a very good question, Sam. Is French toast generally considered a very difficult food to eat?” Castiel was able to build devil’s traps, writing elaborate Enochian symbols. They had to be perfect or the trap wouldn’t work, and they were always perfect. How could consuming food be more difficult, or require more precision than that? Or maybe it was another effect of the vessel. She was becoming a human child, and now she was acting the part. It was humiliating, but eating was a rather disgusting practice when one really thought about it anyway. She tried to put it out of mind.

“No, not really,” Dean replied, wry grin on his face. The first bite of his extremely greasy egg dish (with gravy) was still on his fork. Apparently Cas’ ineptitude with eating had paused Dean mid-bite.

“I think it has more to do with how quickly you’re trying to eat it,” said Sam, looking far more supportive on the matter than Dean.

“If you tried just eating your food next time, rather than inhaling it, you might make less of a mess,” suggested Dean, finally taking his bite. Castiel didn’t point out the crumble of scrambled egg that hung on to the corner of his lip. Dean also had very nice lips, Castiel now observed. Looking at Dean made her stomach feel weird.

“I assure you, there is no French toast in my lungs,” said Cas, before realizing that had to be wrong, as even Sam rolled his eyes. “Were you more concerned about me asphyxiating on the bacon?”

Dean’s nose snuffed out sort of a half chuckle, then with food still in his mouth pointed out, “So, this whole you eating thing is new.” Castiel could see bits of chewed egg and ham mixing with slimy gravy-saliva and felt a little better about her own failure with table manners. And Dean was back on the whole angel needing to eat thing again. He was right before, when he’d said he wasn’t stupid… Clearly he’d noticed Castiel changing the subject.

But this wasn’t about Castiel, it was about the Winchesters and keeping them safe. She never would’ve shown up at all were there any other options, but she was injured and there were few other beings in existence who were actually on the Winchesters side. If she were to have died, not to seem narcissistic and maybe Cas was a little, but that would’ve been worse. Unfortunately there wasn’t anyone else Cas could turn to, and so here they all were, and Dean seemed like maybe he suspected what was the truth already, and he was just digging at Cas, trying to pry out an answer to his guess.

That he guessed that Castiel had been cut off from Heaven, and now her powers were gone, and that’s why she was doing things like eating, and not flying away immediately upon waking up. Dean would guess that. He’d met a fallen angel before; he’d believe that he could know one again.

This was only half the truth, but Dean had never seen an angel blade in action before, nor was he aware of its consequences for angels, so Castiel would have to explain that. Maybe it could be her explanation for everything.

“The weapon Zachariah used was a Heavenly sword,” Cas explained, speaking carefully and making no mention of the falling from Heaven business. Somehow she was embarrassed by the entire situation, but logically had no idea why. “It can kill angels. The same sort of weapon was used to kill Uriel. I will need time to rest and recover from the damage it has done. As it was designed to harm angels, an angel cannot simply cause a miracle to heal its damage.”

Dean said nothing in response, just shook his head and scowled, mixing his breakfast around in gravy. Castiel was certain he’d bring up this line of questioning again, but at least perhaps the matter was dropped for now.

“Are you going to eat the extra bacon?” she asked. She was still hungry.

“Have at it.”

“Yes!” Castiel grinned, not really knowing why she’d made the exclamation, but definitely happy to eat more bacon, especially bacon that Dean had given her. She poured all the syrup that remained in the bottle over it, before eating it with satisfied smacking noises, carefully examining why bacon from Dean might subconsciously be deemed more valuable than bacon Sam gave her.

Not that Sam would ever have ordered any bacon to give away, granted, it was purely a hypothetical.

“We should probably get out on the road soon,” Sam observed as Cas started in on the last few bites of food left at the table. “Cas, when you’re done you should head to the restroom and wash up.” With that Sam stood up to pay, and Dean watched her try to unstick the hair from her.

* * * *

Back when Castiel had been using Jimmy Novak as a vessel, he had spent a small amount of time rooting around in Dean’s head. Not for anything that he found unethical, or to dig up private information, but in order to enter one’s dreams, there has to be some level of psychic connection. So Castiel was aware of how humans felt when they were attracted to one another, especially since, for all intents and purposes, Dean Winchester seemed to be quite attracted to him.

Castiel knew that Dean could be attracted to either males or females, but for whatever reason, he only engaged in sex with females. Except for in his dreams, which Castiel had found out the hard way. Dean had had him wearing cowboy boots and nothing else.

In the present she flushed thinking about it, then wet a paper towel with cold water from the bathroom sink. She’d never washed up before, not with water anyway, and had doubts that it would be able to cut through the syrup on her face and hands. It seemed to be getting stickier by the second.

For a while after the accidental peek into that particular dream, Castiel paid a bit more attention to what Dean was thinking about him. He wasn’t attracted to Dean in any way… He was an angel, and while he loved Dean, the man’s physical form was hardly of any interest. But Dean found Castiel’s form interesting, and that was… curious. Castiel had been curious about it.

This past curiosity was serving Cas well now, as she dipped further and further into experiencing humanity. Her angelic traits were fading fast, but with the injuries on top of it, she was closer to being all the way human than she’d ever been. She had no powers beyond that of an ordinary human. Over the next few days they would return as she healed from the injuries.

And then they would fade away again, at the same pace they had been before.

Happily, Castiel discovered that despite her doubts, the syrup did wash off quite easily from skin, although getting it out of her hair was somewhat more a challenge. As it was dry and no longer very sticky, she decided it would be easiest to tuck her hair behind her ears and ignore it.

This really wouldn’t make her look very pretty, and Dean would be around. For some reason this fact motivated her especially to want to look pretty. It seemed like this could be some indication that in a now human form, that wasn’t functioning like an angel, and was complete with human thoughts and hormones… This seemed like a logical thing for a person to think when they were attracted to another person.

But Castiel didn’t want to have sex with Dean, she was very sure, and Dean had never wanted to dress nice or make his hair look good for Castiel, so maybe this was wrong. Definitely Dean would have no attraction to Castiel now, in her current vessel, but somehow the ten-year-old’s hormones didn’t seem to care, and still reacted to Dean’s eyes and lips however they wanted. As always, Castiel found Dean to be a fascinating person and she desired to be around him and know more about him. Now however, the thought of spending time with Dean made her stomach tickle and jump. She didn’t know what to think of the matter, and mostly she just wanted to tell someone about Dean. To talk to someone who might share a similar infatuation and discuss the way Dean made her want to giggle.

It was all very ridiculous, but the desire for such a connection was almost overpowering. It occurred to her then that Anna didn’t even have a way to contact them. She might know, if she was in the right place at the right time, if they were about to be attacked. It would be ideal for them if she could give them an advance warning. For the first time, Castiel understood why Anna had insisted upon taking the risk of going to an electronics store and purchasing a phone.

* * * *

Considerably less sticky, and with a plan in place to ease some of the tension of their situation, Castiel bounded out to the Impala. Sam and Dean were already out there waiting, Dean in the driver’s seat and Sam standing by the passenger door. Castiel grinned at him, then got in the seat behind Dean.

“Dean, I need to borrow your cell phone.”

“What for?” Dean turned to face Cas with an expression like Cas had broken the phone already. Castiel didn’t mind. Dean was over protective of his people and of the things that connected him to his people.

“I need to text someone,” Cas explained dully, aware that she was coming off as rather petulant, but unable to stop herself.

“Who?” Dean’s tone grew more hot tempered, which was most definitely at fault of Castiel’s attitude, and still she found herself being irritated with Dean. It was fascinating. She would happily have explained the situation in its entirety, if she could. The fact that doing so was unwise also irritated Castiel. Of course, she wanted to talk to Dean.

“I might remind you, Dean, that we are under surveillance.”

“Right,” he said, then leaned over to dig in the glove box, retrieving what Castiel knew to be John Winchester’s old phone.

“Here’s my phone; text away,” he winked. Castiel really couldn’t get over Dean’s genius. Now if anyone were savvy enough to try to trace her message, they would be looking at the wrong phone account. Not that anyone but Sam would ever be clever enough to figure out the name Dean’s phone was registered under anyway.

Carefully she typed Anna’s phone number into the recipient box, then sent the message:

Use this number to contact im grounded for now c

It was difficult to figure out the symbol system, and Cas gave up on capitals and punctuation. Anna would understand the message, and besides, she should be watching them. She would know Cas had sent a text.

Castiel sighed and flipped the phone shut, passing it back to Dean, who put it in his jacket pocket like it was his usual phone. Then he steered the car down the back roads, turning up the radio. Castiel settled in in the backseat, ready to get some more rest, and to work on digesting her first meal.

* * * *

Castiel wasn’t quite awake, she didn’t think. That is, her eyes were closed and she felt asleep, except for she was starting to become aware of her surroundings. She was in a car—the Impala, and classic rock was playing softly, mingling with snores that must belong to Sam Winchester, because Dean was driving them to Bobby’s.

Bobby’s? How did Castiel know that? Dean always thought it best to go to Bobby’s, so maybe she just deduced this plan, but it was more of a knowledge than a guess. She could feel Dean’s decision and determination to get there. Perhaps her ability to read thoughts and enter consciousnesses had returned? If that was the case, then they were almost certainly headed towards Bobby’s salvage yard.

Castiel sat up. Yes, she was awake. “Dean, we cannot go to Bobby’s.”

Dean almost swerved off the road, and Cas was immediately sorry for surprising him. “Jesus Cas, I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. Didn’t you hear me? Turn around; we cannot go to Bobby’s.”

“Of course we can. He’ll be happy to see us. We always go to Bobby’s.”

“Exactly. It’s the last place we should be going. I know you think we should hide, but by moving around we will keep our enemies on their toes. We are always being watched, but without a consistent location, it is difficult to plan any sort of ambush.”

They already have a plan of attack for Bobby’s. Castiel could hear the words forming in Dean’s mind before he said them. “You think there’s already an attack plan for us at Bobby’s?”

“I know there is. Several, actually, with many contingencies in mind to handle the opposing forces.”

Shit.

Castiel couldn’t shut out Dean’s mind working out the situation no matter what she did. She felt like she should close her eyes, but there was no way to close off his thoughts… there weren’t any eyelids for it.

How did she know where I was going? Dean wondered, before asking, “How did you know we were headed there anyway? You were asleep. Do angels have some sort of psychic sleep where they know what direction they’re headed?”

Dean’s thoughts were still working that all out while he spoke them, and he absolutely refused to think the exact same words as he spoke. It was very noisy.

Castiel sighed and flopped back onto the seat. “I wasn’t able to read thoughts, but the ability returned to me as I was asleep.”

It was a good sign that her powers were coming back. If Zachariah or some other angel were to pop in on them, Cas would be able to sense it right away. It was just annoying that this was the very first thing to return… The ability to control her other abilities was not online yet, so to speak.

“Don’t read my mind,” Dean practically growled, and Castiel flushed. She agreed now, given that she herself did not want Sam and Dean to know everything about her, that this was a violation.

“Of course not. It was not intentional. I was asleep… I didn’t have the awareness to turn it off.” She did not mention that she could still hear everything Dean was thinking, or that she was aware Sam was dreaming about crocodiles learning to drive cars.

Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter and was very frustrated. Castiel could feel the emotion coming off him in waves, and at first she assumed it was because of her. But then the thoughts filtered in, and Cas was relieved to find this wasn’t the case. He wanted to go to Bobby’s, but moreover, if they didn’t go there, then where should they go? They needed to make hex bags so they could hide, but if they didn’t go to Bobby’s, they wouldn’t have all the supplies for it. Oh, and also it was pretty annoying to think a ten year old might know his thoughts. That was just icing on the cake.

Castiel was frustrated for Dean at all of this. How could he even sort through all of these thoughts? She’d felt doubt before, but at least that was only at one subject at a time. Dean’s entire mind was a mass of doubts and worries, and beneath it all so much caring and kindness that it overwhelmed.

Meanwhile Castiel simply wished for more food. She’d liked the sweet flavors of breakfast, and already her stomach longed for more. There were lots of kinds of foods though, and maybe Dean would take them to get something else. She didn’t feel like now would be a good time to ask, however, so Cas just kept quiet.

* * * *

Castiel watched the lines in the road flick past outside the window, satisfied in knowing Dean had no long term plans, but knowing he did intend to keep driving throughout the day. Then, as it approached nightfall and time to find sleeping accommodations, he planned to turn and backtrack, weaving in a different direction to somewhere no one could have planned for them to be.

Sam’s dreams were fading as he woke, and he was finding the window uncomfortable against his face. It was speeding up his waking process. “Where’re we going?” he asked his brother.

“We’re going to get ice cream.”

Sam glanced back at Cas, mildly suspicious. He assumed Castiel had requested a detour. Dean, Cas now realized, had decided to pull off into a small town based on her desire for sweets. He was frustrated and didn’t seem to know why he was compelled to go for ice cream, but he was fairly certain that Castiel would want strawberry flavor.

She did want strawberry flavor.

So apparently she was also projecting her wants upon others, making them do as would best be in her interest. That wasn’t good at all; how would she turn that off? Usually such things would be something to “turn on”. This wasn’t even something that Castiel had used as an angel save for when she was in Hell to keep demons from detecting her there. It wasn’t something that should even really work on humans, since it was hardly of any use to an angel. If a human were to, for instance, agree to become a vessel, it must be of their own will or it wouldn’t count.

“I apologize Dean,” Cas said, not sure if making a confession was a good idea, but she felt it was even more unethical to keep it a secret. “I was unaware I was engaging in this sort of thought transfer. I didn’t even realize I was capable of it.”

“Seriously?” Dean felt nauseous at the invasion of his mind. Not only were his thoughts not entirely private anymore, but also they weren’t even his thoughts. Castiel was immeasurably guilty.

“I cannot be appropriately apologetic, I know. Unfortunately the ability to suppress my other abilities does not seem to be within my reach yet.”

Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head like he was trying to shake Castiel out of there. “Seriously?” he asked making exasperated noises. Castiel was disproportionately dismayed. Her emotions seemed under the impression that this was flat out the end of the world. Obviously this wasn’t the end of the world! Castiel had prevented the end of the world… That’s why she was in all this mess now with her angelic abilities zigzagging all over the place! And yet… It really, really seemed like nothing could ever be worse right now. Supposedly this must be a human thing.

In Castiel’s opinion it was getting to be a bit too much. She was really beginning to wonder that Anna had ever willingly signed up for this experience.

At least Dean had for some reason kept them on course to get ice cream. They were now driving down the wide streets of a town that apparently catered to vacationers taking a break from their time on a lake to visit town for a day. There were souvenir shops, a bakery, and tiny bookstores.

“Isn’t that bad?” Sam asked. “Your powers, couldn’t you accidentally smite an entire state or something?”

“No,” Cas giggled nervously. She wasn’t sure why she kept giggling, but more and more it was becoming her reaction to almost every situation. Even as she was gaining angelic traits back, was she somehow delving further and further into humanity? This was the first time Castiel had spent any time with humans since being cut from Heaven. “Perhaps someone could be mysteriously healed as we pass by.”

“Nothing big though, eh?” asked Dean.

Castiel blushed, not at all wanting to answer why. Castiel’s abilities to do anything “big” had faded since before dropping into the motel room yesterday. And they would never be coming back. “No,” she whispered. “Nothing big.”

“There’s a load of wash in the trunk,” Dean pointed out, chuckling at his own witty suggestion. Castiel liked that. It lightened the mood of the awkward situation. “Crusted on monster guts and everything. It’d be awesome if you could take care of that.”

“I’ll do my best,” Cas said, smiling shyly at the rearview mirror. The flip-floppy feeling in her tummy had returned.

“So,” Sam interjected more seriously. “Does that mean you’re healed then? Should we remove the stitches, or do those get angeled out?”

“No Sam. Unfortunately the only thing that will heal my injuries is time. Oh, there’s an ice cream place!” Cas pointed out the window at a hole in the wall ice cream shop with a large, wooden, pink ice cream cone out front. With sprinkles. It appeared to be packed with touristy patrons.

Dean was weighing in his mind the long line and how long they would inevitably be in town if they stopped here. But he conceded and agreed, pulling the Impala into a parallel parking spot a couple blocks up from the shop.

It was a hot day, with a bright blue sky, and people smelling like sweat and sunscreen as they milled around on the steaming sidewalks. No one was in a big hurry, most of them window shopping and watching over kids who browsed the candy cigarettes and fake dog poop. All the shops had the doors wide open, inviting the window shoppers inside and allowing peeks at teenagers in short shorts, spending too long at the registers, trying on mood rings.

Castiel kind of wanted a mood ring, but Dean was on mission toward the ice cream place, and even if part of him felt a pull to go back and buy a ring for Cas, he was now ignoring it, recognizing it for what it was. He wasn’t about to be a victim of mind control. Not unless he got ice cream as a prize anyway.

Castiel hoped that he didn’t know she wanted the jewelry. She didn’t want him to think she was a stupid girl, and she was pretty sure he would for wanting something so frivolous, even if it was really cool and changed colors. He probably already thought she was stupid for leading them to stop for ice cream. Ugh, Cas wanted to bury herself. Why couldn’t she have wanted to stop for pie at least?

Sam looked over at her, and put a long arm around her shoulder, smiling reassuringly. “Dean’s going to like you no matter what you ever do,” he said.

Oh no, Sam knew what she was feeling now? Castiel’s face was hot, and it wasn’t just from the sun. But of course Sam was just as likely to be the recipient of Castiel’s whims as Dean was, she was just inexplicably focused on Dean, so hadn’t even thought of Sam.

That probably had something to do with human emotions too, and she once again wondered if she might not be finding Dean attractive. Or maybe it was just because Dean was the one who kept acting upset. Sam still had his arm around her shoulder though, and likely would pick up on this idle curiosity, so she quickly did her best to stop thinking about it.

“How do you know?” Castiel asked, before realizing Sam too had powers that Dean didn’t approve of, and yet Dean had stuck by Sam’s side through everything.

“You popped in yesterday,” Sam said, “and Dean came alive again. He’s been more focused since you’ve showed up than I’ve seen him since we went to go get you and found Jimmy instead.”

“He doesn’t even know where we’re going.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re going nowhere with purpose.” Sam tugged Cas’ shoulders closer in sort of a hug that didn’t interrupt their walking. Cas smiled, liking the gesture and feeling quite affectionate towards Sam. And she was glad she hadn’t let him out of the panic room that night, not just because it saved the world, but because it saved Sam too.

The ice cream shop was indeed very crowded. Cas and Sam joined Dean where he was already saving them a spot in line. And no wonder this place was so busy, Cas thought when she caught sight of the ice cream list. There was every flavor she could think of, and three different options for cones. Or you could get your ice cream in a dish, but after observing the selections of several customers, Cas decided that she definitely wanted a cone. A waffle cone. She wanted ice cream that looked just like the wooden ice cream cone on the sign.

Finally they made it to the front, and Dean ordered for Cas, knowing already exactly what she’d want. Then he got himself something chocolate with lots of candies imbedded in it, also in a waffle cone, and Sam ordered a dish of an ice cream that had chunks of raspberries. They made their way out to the street and continued down the sidewalk away from where the Impala was parked, heading toward a park.

The park was busy with more people, several of them fishing in a stream that cut through the space, or feeding ducks. Castiel saw a patch of willow trees where no one was sitting, and thought that an ideal place to be, sitting between the tree and its low hanging leaves, letting them hide them like a beaded curtain. She didn’t have to say anything; the brothers already knew where she was headed.

It was ideal, sitting under the tree. Pink ice cream melted down her wrist, but it wasn’t as sticky as the syrup, and in this case it wasn’t a case of her being inept with a fork, but simply that the sun melted the food faster than she could eat it. Dean was having a similar problem, although he was a bit faster at catching the drips, so it wasn’t embarrassing at all.

Sam finished his ice cream first, then lay in the grass, his hands behind his head. The sun dappled shadows over all three of them, and truly Castiel felt as relaxed as Sam Winchester looked.

Until something sunk in her stomach. Cas looked around trying to find the source of her sudden dread, but everything was pristine, a sunny, cheerful park. It couldn’t be Zachariah. Not even he would be quite this brash to actually show up at a public park. No, he’d wait at a motel room, then kidnap both Winchesters with the snap of a finger and keep them hostage on opposite sides of the country. If he showed up, everyone else would too, just to keep him from getting away with it. And sinking feeling or not, Castiel would notice someone if groups of angels and demons were showing up.

So maybe it was nothing, but something just wasn’t sitting right in Cas’ stomach, and it wasn’t the ice cream—that was delicious. If Lilith showed up, she’d be here to kill Sam. With the apocalypse not going off according to plan, she seemed to be of the mindset that she may as well live a little longer. Zachariah had every intention of tracking her down and making her play her part too, and she likely would if pressed. And then again maybe not. If she showed up alone it was probably to kill Sam. That would derail the apocalypse for at least another twenty years or so.

Or maybe it was Ruby. Once she thought of it, Castiel realized that this felt exactly like the duplicitous soul of the demon encroaching into her consciousness. Ruby wanted to feed Sam demon blood, so in all likelihood she wanted the same thing Zachariah did. But at this point there was no real reason for her to be involved. Ruby had alienated herself from every demon in Hell, so she wanted the glory. She wanted to be the one to make Sam do it, and to be there when the cage opened.

The good thing was, no one really cared about Ruby, and she wouldn’t kill Sam. The bad thing was, she wouldn’t hesitate to kill Cas or Dean. And she seemed to be right on the other side of the willow tree.

“What’s wrong?” Dean looked concerned at her stricken face. Cas flicked her eyes toward the tree and Dean made to get up to investigate.

“No, don’t,” Cas said, her eyes wide as her mind scrambled for a plan. She knew full well Ruby was here to kill her, and without any angel powers she felt useless. She didn’t even have any weapons. Save for her fists, which she had no experience using and really, wasn’t sure how strong this body was without a full strength angel in it.

“What? Is something wrong?” Sam wondered. And then Ruby stepped out from her hiding place.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Dean’s mind seethed, and Castiel’s thoughts echoed that sentiment exactly. She put on her most stoic face and did her best to appear completely unfazed by this situation, despite the way her vessel’s heart was hammering against her ribs.

Ruby didn’t spare her so much as a glance, instead keeping her eyes glued on Sam.

“Ruby?” Sam asked, perching himself up on his elbows, his eyes all wide and innocent as he approached her.

She broke into a wide grin, as if nothing could be more normal. Like they had an appointment or something. “Sam! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Oh god, Sam, I hope you’re okay.”

The words were false, but they fell from her lips so truthfully. Sam wanted to believe them.

“You left me.” Sam’s voice was small, and Cas could feel how fragile he felt. But he was also angry. Angry and lost and he still somehow cared for the demon, but he wanted her to hurt the way he had.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I couldn’t find you. Not until that angel was using its powers, and then I felt that and found you. It’s all gonna be okay now!”

Castiel narrowed her eyes, hiding how she was maybe a little nervous. There really wasn’t anything to do but watch this play out. Dean was kicking himself for leaving the car fully stocked with weapons and not bringing a single one with. Castiel tried to let him know via her thoughts, that it was okay. Not his fault.

Dean would never believe that any of this wasn’t his fault. He was considering his options as well as Cas was considering hers, both of them trying to figure out Ruby’s plan here. How was she planning on convincing Sam to go with her? No doubt she would just pin them both to the tree if it came to it, and they tried to stop Sam from going with her.

“You left me. Now you show up in the middle of some random park? Dragging Dean and Cas into your messed up scenario,” Sam glowered.

Ruby rolled her eyes, but somehow they didn’t lose an ounce of their sincerity. “I know, Sam,” she said earnestly, “and I’m sorry about your little… family picnic, or whatever this is. But how else could I talk to you?”

“My phone number never changed you know.”

Ruby’s demeanor faltered for just a second, and Castiel could watch her brain scrambling for a lie to cover this. It only took a second.

“Mine did. My phone smashed and I lost your info. Sam I was looking for you, I swear!”

Sam got up and stepped toward her. He was very deliberate and calculating with each stride that brought him closer to the demon. Castiel knew she should keep on trying to stay out of others’ heads, but she really couldn’t, and in this instance it was fascinating.

Ruby was focused on Sam. She could visualize him walking away with her, getting into her car, finding some demon to kill and drink the blood. Sam didn’t know any of that, and was being led by his emotions. Castiel was convinced that he would go with her.

“Ruby, just get out of here,” he said finally, his jaw set.

“Come with me Sam,” her eyes pleaded and Sam was drawn into them.

But they weren’t her real eyes. “No,” said Sam, and Ruby’s eyes flashed ink.

“I won’t leave you again, I promise. You can have as much as you want. Forever, Sam.”

“Get the fuck out of here Ruby,” Sam was seething. He never wanted to see her again. He also wanted to see her always, and to pick up where they’d left off after he’d last seen her. He wanted to hold her close to him and for them to be a part of each other. He wanted to feel like he was doing good, and to feel good, and he missed so much.

His thoughts and emotions were much more confusing than Castiel’s, and once again she really wished she could just shut them all out. Thank God her emotions weren’t so complicated at least.

Sam missed Ruby so much and he punched her.

The demon’s head flung back, then she cracked it upright again, blood dripping from her lip. And Sam was overwhelmed by something that Castiel didn’t recognize. She’d never felt anything like it, and while Cas was new to emotions, she was pretty sure this wasn’t a common thing.

It was sharp and dull, and all encompassing. There was nothing else in the world and it was right in front of Sam’s face.

“Sam!” she shouted, bolting up and running toward him. “Sam, it’s okay. She needs to go now.”

Ruby turned to Castiel and then she was in the air, flying out of control until her head hit something with a thunk.

* * * *

The world blurred back into Castiel’s vision, and she realized she was still sitting underneath the willow tree. Some ducks swam passed in the pond next to their spot, and Castiel watched them go by as the world came back into focus. Her head was propped up on Dean’s overshirt, she realized, but Dean was sitting a few feet away, talking to Sam.

Castiel sat up, then scrunched up her face as she realized her skull was throbbing.

Dean turned to her immediately. “How’s your head?”

Cas gave him a look that said he was stupid just for asking, so Dean decided to explain that she’d gotten tossed headfirst at the tree, but she’d be fine. And apparently Sam had thrown Ruby out, or scared her off or something. Her demon powers didn’t work against him, of course.

Sam was quiet though.

“That’s it. No more stops for fun,” said Dean. “C’mon let’s get back to the car. We can put an ice pack on your head.”

“No need,” Cas pointed at her head, her hair even more a tangled mess now than it was before. “Angel healing powers are back.”

The sidewalk was still hot, but the window shoppers were starting to dwindle as the sun sunk lower in the sky. As they reached the Impala, Cas could now fully understand on a real and human level, why the Winchesters thought of this object as home. It was safe, and an enormous relief to return to. She collapsed into the backseat, exhausted from all the excitement, angelic healing, and psychic trickery. Poor Dean Winchester. He just couldn’t escape from traveling companions with supernatural powers they couldn’t fully control.

* * * *

It was dark when Castiel next woke up, but they were still driving. The car was quiet, with the radio turned low and the sounds of breathing the only things keeping the space from complete quiet. Tall pine trees lined the road, illuminated starkly in the car’s headlights as they past. It was eerie.

Castiel wondered if, after what had happened that afternoon, Dean was still sticking to his original plan. Maybe he’d be too worried to stop at all, or have come up with some alternative idea to obtain the supplies for hex bags. To her surprise, the information didn’t just spill off of Dean in an uncontrollable stream of thoughts and carefully measured emotions as it had before.

Dean wanted Cas to stay out of his head, but she had to know, was she gaining abilities or losing them? Cautiously she pried at Dean’s consciousness and immediately knew that, no, his plan had not changed. There was a town up ahead and when they reached it Dean would make an abrupt turn south.

Dean was also more emotional than before. Perhaps since he thought Castiel was asleep, he was being less guarded? Whatever the case, it was overwhelming. Cas had only peeked for a second, but she got it all. The man missed so much.

He missed the way things used to be with his brother, and the love he had for those times and those memories was huge. Castiel knew that this was a common thought in Dean’s mind. In the past year as he got to know Dean, he was often missing Sam, despite the fact that Sam was just one motel bed over, or sitting right beside him in the Impala.

Following that there was anger at Ruby, but that was nothing new or particularly interesting. He blamed Ruby for a lot of his sadness.

But most overwhelming, especially since the feelings were in the forefront for Dean, was the great fondness he felt for Cas. Without Sam’s trust, Dean had jumped head first into trusting Castiel. And now there was so much affection that when Cas felt it, it caught in her throat. Dean missed the way things used to be between him and Cas, and what Sam had said earlier was true—since Castiel had disappeared Dean had been drifting. He knew there was this great big apocalypse going on, but even his connection to Sam wasn’t enough to keep him going.

Probably because his life with Sam was changed too. Nothing was how it used to be. And yet, while Dean missed the old Castiel, he was quickly attached to how she was now. He wanted to hug her and stroke her hair, and get the syrup out of it, and keep her safe. It was comforting.

And it was definitely different from how Dean had felt about her before yesterday. Back when she was in Jimmy’s body and Dean felt a mix of fear, affection, and desire. Now it seemed boiled down to just affection. And quite a bit of worry. He had so much affection and the thought that she might have been hurt today almost made him sick.

It was similar to the dread Jimmy had felt for his daughter during the final moments of his life. Castiel took care to check on the child’s soul once more, always concerned that it might slip away while she rested. With her abilities regaining, all seemed well for now.

Castiel rode in the backseat and didn’t say anything. Watching the trees slip past the window until finally Dean pulled into a motel for the night. He turned to Sam.

“Paper, rock, scissors for who has to share a bed tonight.”

Sam stuck out a fist without even looking at Dean, and shook it in the air three times before choosing “rock”.

“Aw crap,” said Dean, then turned back to Castiel. “You better not be a bed hog tonight, because I’m driving and need my sleep, got that?”

Castiel nodded and a small smile played across her lips. She was stuck staying with the Winchesters, but things could be worse.

* * * *

Sleeping arrangements were cramped but cozy, and everyone was for the most part comfortable. Until in the middle of the night when Sam awoke, thrashing around in his blankets before getting up and pacing the room.

“Sorry Cas,” sighed Dean. “We were past this, but then...”

Castiel rubbed her eyes and sat up to watch as Dean put his arms around his brother, who was possibly sleep walking—Cas wasn’t sure, and led him back to sit on the side of his bed. He rubbed his shoulders. “I’m gonna get you some water Sam. Do you want some water?”

Sam pulled an arm back and hit Dean across the head.

“Okay Sammy,” Dean tousled his hair. “You just look after Cas and I’ll be back in a sec.”

Sam dropped his head into his hands and began scratching at his forehead until Dean returned from the bathroom with the ice bucket full of water. “Here ya go, Sam.” Dean held the bucket up to his brother’s lips, and with the other arm held Sam close to himself.

Other than that, things were uneventful. The days were spent driving, eating fast food, Castiel learning that some fast food made her sick. Nights were sleeping, and sometimes helping Sam. The second time he had one of these episodes Castiel went to fetch the water, allowing Dean to stay with him the entire time. It was hardly anything, but it was the first time Castiel felt helpful since she’d arrived.

They were packing up to head back out on the road on the fourth day, when Sam suggested Castiel needed a shower.

“I do?”

“Yeah. You smell like… All the fast food you’ve been eating. And like you got sick twice. And like you’ve been sleeping next to Dean’s smelly ass for three nights.”

“Hey!” said Dean. “At least I’m not the one who hasn’t showered in… ever.”

Castiel was used to these things being automatic. She never needed to wash, because her body never even got the chance to become dirty. Human body functions weren’t necessary with an angel present, and while her body did become dirty in the first day she was with the Winchester’s, by the time she’d regained her abilities it was back to normal.

The only thing that could’ve changed was her continuing to lose her connection with Heaven. Now even the simplest of tasks was out of her reach. Was it over? Was she completely cut off now? The process had started slow at first, but accelerated as time went on. How would she be able to tell when there was no further left to fall?

“I will go make use of the shower,” she said, before Sam promised to take her for clothes shopping later.

“Really?” asked Dean. After the incident with Ruby, he didn’t want to linger in any place they didn’t have to. “She can have another of my shirts.”

“It seems necessary, Dean. Yeah,” said Sam, and something about the way he said it seemed to settle the matter. Which was how, an hour later, Castiel found herself browsing through racks of clothing at a brightly lit WalMart store.

“This is nice,” said Sam. He held up a pink shirt with pictures of purple ladybugs and polka-dot ribbons.

Castiel frowned. That shirt seemed far too childish. But oh, here was one that was blue, with green swirly designs on it. They were kind of like flowers, but swirlier. It reminded Cas of a garden silhouetted against the sky. She liked it.

“I like this one,” said Cas.

“Okay, so blue is more your style then, huh?” Sam noted, putting another pink shirt back on the rack. Dean was busy looking through jeans, picking out pairs that were marked as the same size as the pair Castiel was wearing. He said she would have to try them on before they purchased any.

“But if they are the same size, shouldn’t they be the same size? Shouldn’t we know they fit?”

“In theory, but alas, the world is a terrible place,” Dean said, dropping what had to be at least eight pairs of pants into her arms and smiling. “Go in and see what fits.”

“I’m now questioning if perhaps my superiors in Heaven weren’t correct. Perhaps this world wasn’t deserved to be saved.”

Dean chuckled. “That was a joke, right?”

“Yes, I meant it to be. Was it funny?”

“Go try on the jeans, Cas.”

Two pairs of jeans, five t-shirts, two plaid over shirts, underwear, socks, and a pair of pajama bottoms later, Sam finally said they had enough clothes and could leave the store.

“Finally,” said Dean. Castiel agreed with the sentiment. The WalMart felt a bit like a giant cave with fluorescent lighting, and was so large it was easy to forget there was a world outside the building, or that sunshine existed at all. All the while announcements advertising big deals on paper towels played from the speakers overhead, loudly enough to drown out conversation.

It was not unlike some corners of Hell Castiel had visited during her search for Dean.

As they made their way to the checkout, Dean kept grabbing things off the shelves. Food items mostly. “Jeez Dean, you trying to give us diabetes now?” asked Sam after the third package of cookies was dropped into the cart.

Dean shrugged.

If Castiel had found the rest of the store unpleasant, it was nothing compared to the checkout counters. The noise of the annoying advertisements was all but drowned out by the loud beeps the registers made. Customers were all milling about, waiting in lines and trying to maneuver carts, and no one seemed in a good mood save for Dean, who was still happily putting candy and soft drinks into the cart.

Magazines and gum lined the checkout aisles and… Who was that? Castiel was drawn to one of the magazines—one of the ones with a bubbly font and hearts on the cover, clearly meant to cater to younger customers. Customers of the age of Claire Novak, and now, apparently, Castiel.

“Who is Justin Bieber?” she asked, staring at the magazine.

Dean raised his eyebrows. Sam laughed a little, then bit his lip.

“Is he a comedian?”

“No,” said Dean, now also laughing. Justin Bieber sure was hilarious for someone who wasn’t a comedian. And he was so… cute? Scratch the butterfly feelings Castiel had felt for Dean before. Clearly that was because he was one of only two attractive people around. Just the mere photograph of Justin Bieber was enough for Castiel to feel her breathing pattern change. Perhaps her body’s reactions were greater now that she was so much closer to being human? So human that she had to shower and change clothes. It didn’t really matter, for the fact was that Justin Bieber was easily the most interesting person on the planet.

“I need to get this magazine,” she announced, and put it in the cart same as Dean was doing with all his junk.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean plucked the magazine from the cart, holding it like it was a snotted tissue. “You can’t just put anything in the cart. The cart has standards.”

“Oh Dean, come on,” said Sam. “She obviously has a little crush. It’s adorable. Let her have her magazine.”

“I do not have a crush,” Castiel whispered, refusing to make eye contact with Sam. Honestly he might be correct, but that was just… It was scary. She didn’t want to be that human yet, because she’d never come back. She’d never be an angel again.

“Yeah, but… Bieber? Really? Our angel has Bieber Fever?”

Sam sighed. “Maybe we should all just take a moment and face it that Castiel is a ten year old girl.”

Castiel fumed. She was not! She was using a ten-year-old girl as a vessel, but she was an angel of the lord!

“I’m not a little girl,” she told Sam, glaring up at him all-knowingly.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Then why have you been eating food, having to use the bathroom, needing to purchase clean clothes? I don’t recall angels doing any of those things.”

“The angels you’ve met in the past hadn’t recently been stabbed!” Castiel said a bit too loudly. The woman in front of them in the queue turned to give her an admonishing look.

“Cas,” Dean said, and he was speaking in his comforting tone he used when Sam got up in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry, but we’re not stupid. Angels can fall, right? If that’s what’s happening here, just tell us, okay? We’re not gonna kick you out of the club.”

Castiel’s neck grew hot and she didn’t know if it was embarrassment or anger. “These inquiries fall under the category of None of Your Business,” she stated firmly, then turned to walk out to the car, leaving the Winchesters to pay. She hated it. Storming out really lacked all style when one didn’t have wings. Getting out to the car took forever.

Castiel had never wanted to use her angelic powers and spy on someone more. There was no doubt that the Winchesters were talking about her right now. To drop in unseen and listen to the conversation would be ideal, but of course, as soon as she felt she really needed that ability it was gone.

It seemed like Sam and Dean had been in the store forever, but this must be another being human thing, and even the perception of time was screwed up. Eventually the brothers came out to the car, plastic bags filled with Castiel’s new clothes and Dean’s snacks. Dean got in and tossed a few bags into the back beside her. “We’ll stop for food in a bit and you can change into some of your new clothes,” he said. But Castiel observed that there were at least five more bags of stuff. No wonder they’d taken so long! They’d gone back shopping without her.

Sam got in the car, then twisted around in his seat to face her. “So Cas,” he started, “If there’s one thing that Dean and I are experts in, it’s what it’s like to be a kid stuck in the back of the Impala for days on end.”

Dean pulled a stuffed animal out of a shopping bag and placed it in Cas’ lap. It was a dog, and it was wearing a sparkly dress and had angel wings. “This just reminded me of you,” he said. “I don’t know why.”

Castiel was silent, and gulped back a lump in her throat. She wasn’t sad because of the dog, or its angel wings. She was glad to have Dean.

“I don’t know how much you like to read, or if you’ll get carsick,” said Sam, “but I found this book. You might like it. It’s a science fiction book, for kids. See, they live in space.”

Castiel took the paperback volume, flipping it over and back, inspecting the cover. It was fiction, and she wasn’t really sure if she was interested in fiction. Maybe now that she was human she would find made up stories to be more interesting. In any case, it was nice of Sam to think of her and purchase a gift. “Thank you, Sam. It looks very nice.”

“Okay, reading’s good and all, but it’s also important to make sure you’ve always got a steady supply of snacks,” said Dean, to absolutely no one’s surprise, and he tossed over an entire bag full of chips, cookies, candies, and something called Fruit Roll Ups. Also in the bag was the Justin Bieber magazine. Castiel pulled it out excitedly, letting the snacks fall to the floor.

“Doesn’t he seem like the most interesting person?” she asked. “I wonder what he does to be famous.”

Sam shook his head, and pulled out yet another bag of presents for Castiel. “He’s a musician Cas. He sings songs, and lots of girls your age like him.”

“They go apeshit over this guy. We found a nest of changlings like a month back, and one of the kid’s rooms was plastered in posters.” Dean shuddered. “He’s eyes followed me around the room. It was creepier than the changling kid.”

“And you agreed to get the magazine anyway?”

“Yeah, whatever. But we are not playing that ‘Baby, baby, oh’ shit in my car. I’m drawing the line.” Dean started the car.

Sam was still fumbling with something in the front seat, so Castiel leaned over to see what it was. “I got you a portable CD player,” Sam explained, biting at a package of double A batteries that didn’t want to open. “Dean won’t have to hear it if you want to listen to Bieber. Besides, this is way more age appropriate than having a crush on Dean.”

Castiel’s skin prickled with embarrassment and she sat back down. “I do not have a crush on Dean,” she said emphatically. At this point she felt the statement was true. Who could have a crush on Dean when they had a Justin Bieber magazine to look at?

* * * *

Castiel couldn’t sleep. Sam was sleeping soundly in the next bed, and Dean was snoring in her ear, with his arm curled above her head on her pillow, but it wasn’t his snores that were keeping her awake. She just felt alone. It was so cold all of a sudden and she felt panicked.

Dean’s snores stopped, and he leaned over her to click on the lamp. Castiel realized she was hyperventilating and sobbing, and her hair was tangled in her face, and she couldn’t… Dean wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. Gently he tucked her hair back so he could see her face, and he started running his hand up and down her arm in a soothing motion. “What’s wrong? Cas, can you tell me about it?”

She struggled to catch her breath, but she still felt so terrifyingly alone, the aloneness so all-consuming that she scarcely remembered where she was. Even though Dean’s body was warm against hers, she was cold and empty. She could feel it on the inside, there was a space inside of her, and then she knew. Claire Novak had gone.

“It’s Claire,” she gasped. “She’s gone.”

Dean tucked her head into his chest, holding her there while she sobbed, smearing tears and snot across his shirt. After several minutes Dean said, “You’re just going to have to live the most you can in her place, Cas.”

“She died,” said Cas. Her voice sounding as shocked as she felt. She’d fallen completely and couldn’t hang onto Claire’s soul anymore. “She’s dead.”

It was generally considered uncouth to take a child for a vessel, but it certainly wasn’t unheard of. Angels didn’t have any emotion regarding the human life, it was just sort of a general thing… Based on the values of human cultures. Castiel had hoped to only possess Claire for a short amount of time. The year or so until the apocalypse ended, and then she would be free to live in a new world, unburdened by free will.

The fact that she was gone now was all Castiel’s fault; all the result of decisions the angel had made. She could almost comprehend the levels of guilt Dean Winchester constantly seemed to feel.

Cas looked up at him, and where a tear and traced down his cheek. Then Sam got up again, pacing and mumbling and tearing at his hair.

“Cas?” Dean squeezed her tight. “Go get some water, okay?”

She nodded and got up, heading to the bathroom. She still felt empty and hollow inside all the while she and Dean helped Sam stave off his craving for demon blood. She shivered as Dean soothed him back to sleep, but she was able to get up. She got more water when they needed it, and she could still be helpful, if only just a little bit.

When Sam was finally asleep again, Dean clicked out the lamp. Castiel didn’t have anyone to hold on to anymore. No soul to watch over and make sure she stayed where she was supposed to be. She shuddered again with another sob, and Dean hung on to her instead.

* * * *

“Okay, that’s enough moping,” said Dean. “Get up, let’s get the show on the road.”

The sun had been up for at least three hours, but Cas had no desire to extricate herself from her blankets. She buried her face in her pillow. “’M not moping,” she mumbled. She felt that, all things considered, she was perfectly reasonable in not wanting to sit in the car all day. Blessedly, she felt no emotions about it and it was a nice change. Just let Zachariah find them, she didn’t care.

She liked not feeling anything. The emotions of humanity were complicated and misguiding and led Castiel to doubt her every impulse. Now though, she didn’t doubt anything. It was a bad thing that Claire Novak had left this vessel, and there was no doubt that Claire had way more claim to the body than Castiel ever would. It was bad that Castiel had come to the Winchesters—they were no longer saving people from monsters while they attended to her.

Castiel was just a collection of bad things. And she didn’t care. She felt blank and she liked it. It was easier.

From outside the muffled sounds of her pillow, Cas heard the motel door slam and Sam’s large feet clomped across the room to stand next to the bed. He didn’t pause to talk or reason with her, just pushed her so she rolled over and was looking at the ceiling. “I got you stickers,” said Sam. “But I left them in the car, so you better get up.”

“I don’t want stickers,” said Cas, and it was worse now, looking around the room and talking to Sam about things she could have, tempting her into feeling sad again. “Go away, Sam.”

Sam sighed and got up, glancing helplessly at his brother. He was nice for wanting to help her and be kind to her, but she didn’t deserve it. She hated Sam at the moment and wanted him to go away, so she glared at him. Then glared at Dean too, for good measure. Maybe they would leave her here for Zachariah and go on and live their lives.

Dean looked unsure of what to do, but told Sam to bring the bags out to the car. Good, get out of here. But Dean didn’t follow his brother, instead setting his pillows up so he could sit up on the bed. He pulled Castiel onto his lap and held her like an infant. Castiel elbowed him in the ribs and punched his shoulder.

She just wanted him to leave. She wished she could leave. Being human sucked. She couldn’t fly away, disappearing from Dean’s arms like she’d never been there. And hitting and kicking did nothing. Dean was an adult and Cas was stuck as a child. She pulled up her legs and kicked her heel into his leg for good measure. At least, she could admit that lashing out like this was a distraction from the whole Claire situation.

She wanted to pretend that letting Claire Novak die wouldn’t have bothered her this much if she were still an angel. That it was just that she was a human now that made her so upset.

“So, Justin Bieber, huh?” Dean asked, the question coming out of nowhere. It was enough to make Cas stop and look into his eyes. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest and knew he was just grasping at anything to make Cas feel better. Too bad Cas didn’t want to feel better.

She glared at him again, then tried to squirm off his lap. She figured she’d lock herself in the bathroom until Dean ditched her here. But Dean held her tight and she couldn’t escape.

“Tell me why you like him,” Dean suggested.

Cas refused to answer for several minutes, but Dean just kept looking at her, willing her to think about anything in this world that made her feel happy. Anything that let her forget about the apocalypse, and to feel like a ten year old kid. Finally she gave in.

“Sam says many children my age find him irresistible. I suppose I am now susceptible to human impulses.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I figured. Ever since you wanted ice cream and a mood ring.”

Cas scowled at him again and squirmed around trying to get free. “I don’t want a mood ring Dean. Just leave me alone.” She’d give anything to have her wings back. She wanted to hug herself around Claire’s soul again and feel grounded in this body and not alone. She wanted to go back in time and let Sam out of the panic room so none of this would happen this way. She wanted Dean to let her go, and she scratched at his face and elbowed him in the ribs again, anger bubbling at how ineffectual she was.

“When we stop tonight, I’ll watch Bieber videos on YouTube with you,” Dean offered. This was a significant offer coming from Dean, who would sooner shove bits of glass in his ears than listen to a Justin Bieber song. “If you want, that is.”

And then she felt tears prickling at her eyes again. She cried quietly, her breathing even and calm while the anger ebbed away. Dean held her close for a long time, until he finally whispered to the top of her head, “We should probably get a move on.”

“Thank you for buying me that stuffed dog,” Cas sniffed. “It’s very nice.” It was out in the car, and Dean intended to carry Castiel out there whether she wanted or not, she realized. But she would hug her arms around the stuffed toy and make the object her entire world. If she couldn’t escape the situation the way she would have as an angel, the best she could manage was to escape in the manner of a child.

“You like it?”

Cas chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“I was worried it would make you sad. Y’know, since you’re not an angel anymore. But then I figured the dog was never an angel, and she’s got wings. You can be whatever you want.”

“Thank you Dean.”

“You… You could name the dog after Claire,” Dean suggested.

The suggestion renewed Castiel’s rage and it pounded against her ears. Her jaw clenched and she looked back at Dean with pure venom. “No. Claire Novak is not a stuffed object meant only to pacify me. She was a person and she never should’ve been allowed to die.”

Dean gasped. “I know,” he said. Then just as she was expecting, he carried Cas out to the car where Sam was waiting behind the steering wheel.

“I’ll drive,” he said. “Unless you want the distraction.”

“No,” said Dean, and he slumped into the passenger seat looking exhausted.

Castiel threw the stuffed dog out the window and into the parking lot, before slumping over, feeling just as tired as Dean looked.

* * * *

“Cas,” Dean’s voice filtered through the fog of sleep. “Cas.”

Castiel awoke in the back of the car, snuggled up against the door using a dirty shirt as a pillow. A green soldier toy filled her entire field of vision.

“Cas!” Dean was practically shouting now.

Castiel rubbed her eyes awake and propped herself up on an elbow. “What is it, Dean?”

“You,” he paused for some sort of dramatic affect, “just got a text.”

Dean flashed the phone in her face, but it was difficult to focus on. She grabbed his wrist to hold the phone steady. The text read: Singer Salvage Yard. Hurry.

“Who’s it from?” Dean demanded.

“Wha?”

“It’s from whoever you contacted with this phone. Who is it?”

“Oh.” Castiel weighed the advantages of saying the name aloud, still worried about being overheard. But if she said to hurry, she might be in trouble. “It’s Anna.”

“Anna? She’s alive?”

“Yes,” said Cas, hoping that this was the correct answer. “Oh at least I’d assume so. How long ago did you receive that message?”

“Five minutes?”

“It would be incredibly useful if I could still fly us to Bobby’s,” Castiel noted grimly. “We best be on our way.”

“You want us to go to Bobby’s now?” asked Dean. “I thought that was a trap.” But Sam was already pulling the car to the side of the road to turn it around before Cas could even start to reply.

“It is, but Anna would not tell us to go there without good reason. Perhaps it is a trap that is now set.”

Dean gulped at that, and Sam pulled out his phone. “I’m calling Bobby.” Castiel unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned forward to listen in on the call. She still felt numb and sad in a way that she’d never have been able to comprehend as an angel, but the prospect of seeing Anna gave her renewed energy. There was a purpose to her actions right now.

“Hey, buckle up!” Dean scolded. “I don’t need to get pulled over ‘cause you’re halfway in the front seat. And if we crash…”

“Shut up, Dean,” said Cas, her eyes focused on the trilling rings from Sam’s phone, the sound muffled by his head.

The phone rang for what seemed like forever, and it seemed like no one was ever going to pick up, when finally, “Hello. One of the Winchesters I presume. And how’s our dear Cas?” Zachariah’s voice smirked through the line.

“Oh my god. Where’s Bobby?”

“Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam. You’re sounding well.”

“What did you do with Bobby?”

“I’ll be seeing you soon,” said Zachariah, and then the phone clicked dead.

* * * *

Sam considered his brother to be the faster driver, so he’d insisted they switch places in the car. Now they were racing to South Dakota as fast as Dean’s foot could drive them, but for the first time Castiel was hyper aware of how slow car travel was. It was confining and definitely nothing like flying, but when there’d been no particular destination in mind, it wasn’t a real inconvenience. Especially when it had offered her the ability to rest and heal while still remaining on the move.

Now however, crawling along the surface of the planet like this was torture. Castiel wondered if Anna was also at Bobby’s, or if she were merely watching the situation unfold and thought Cas and the Winchesters should know about it.

“She has a bit of a bird’s eye view on the whole situation,” Cas was explaining. “Or at least, I assume she still does.”

“What does that mean?” Sam asked. “Has she fallen like you did?”

“She has been ‘on our side’, yes, and Heaven removed her from her duties. Although being in a mature vessel, the process has gone slower for her.”

Sam had his arm slung over the seat and was gaping at her. “You couldn’t have told us all this before?”

“No.”

“We’re being watched, genius,” said Dean, punching him lightly in the arm.

“Yeah,” Castiel lowered her eyes. “Sorry about that. I wish I could’ve revealed more, but that would have only sped up the situation.”

“Maybe that would’ve been good,” Sam suggested. “We could’ve been going into a fight when you still had your angel powers, y’know.”

Castiel’s heart ached. “Yes, perhaps. I’m sorry, Sam,” she said, sitting back in her seat. She put on her headphones, turning up the CD loudly, retreating from the situation, missing the days when she could’ve disappeared entirely and flown away until she was ready to talk to Sam and Dean again. For now, the warbling in her headphones would have to suffice.

The book Sam had given her sat next to her on the seat. He’d said it would help pass the time in the car, but also, Sam gave it to her, and she was angry with Sam. It was stupid to be angry with him, but that didn’t seem to matter. She glared at the book and swatted it to the floor, then turned to face out the window, watching fields and farm houses go by.

You know you love me, I know you care. Just shout whenever, And I’ll be there…

Finally the car passed a sign reading “Welcome to South Dakota”.

“Okay,” said Dean, then waited for Castiel to take her headphones off. “We should have a plan. I know Zach and the bunch’ll hear whatever we say, but we can’t just drive up and get shot.”

“Zachariah will not shoot to kill either you nor Sam,” Castiel assured. “He will have no qualms about taking my life, of course, but you two are only at risk of injury and relocation.”

“I…” Sam hesitated, looking at Dean. “I hate to say this Cas, but maybe you should make one of those anti-angel wards on the seat back there.”

“In the car?” Dean challenged.

“We can’t go in with nothing, Dean. We’ve got nothing against him and we know he’s there. This is practically a suicide mission.”

“We’re not giving up,” Dean frowned.

“I didn’t say that,” said Sam, and while the brothers argued pointlessly over things they actually fully agreed on, Castiel reached into a canvas bag behind Sam’s seat and grabbed a knife. She gulped, holding it up to her forearm. Unlike when she was an angel, this was going to hurt her actual form. She had been able to feel it before when her vessel had been hurt, but it wasn’t the same as hurting herself.

* * * *

As if right on cue, little droplets of rain began to speckle the windows just as the Impala rumbled into Bobby’s yard. It was eerie quiet. There was no sign of Zachariah, or any sign that anything had changed. Other than the fact that they’d talked to Zachariah himself, there was no reason to think the hunter wasn’t inside, drinking and researching. But Castiel had a heavy feeling in her gut. She didn’t feel like Zachariah was here. Something was completely wrong.

She bit her lip and glanced at the banishing sigil drying on the back of Dean’s seat. Dean wasn’t happy about it, but like this was the first time Dean had blood get on his upholstery. He was over reacting because a little blood messing up his car was easier to confront than Zachariah, and whatever the angel had been doing with Bobby. Castiel worried about Anna though. If they had to banish Zachariah to save themselves, Anna might be sent off as well. If she was here anyway.

Dean stopped the car, but no one moved for several minutes. “I guess they didn’t hear us arrive,” Sam said hopefully.

“Yeah, I guess not,” Dean agreed. He opened his door and the sound seemed to echo for miles. With the door open, the stillness from outside snuck into the car, making the small hairs on Castiel’s arm stand up. It was like not a molecule was moving, save for the raindrops falling in increasing amounts. Castiel shivered, despite it being humid and sticky, but she opened her own door all the same.

Leaving the car would mean leaving the relative security of the blood sigil. Unconsciously Cas hugged her arms around herself, and missed the stuffed dog she’d left behind.

“Guess we go inside then?” offered Sam.

Dean nodded, holding the demon-killing knife at the ready, like it would do anything in this situation, and got out of the car. Apparently they had all assumed Zachariah would greet them as soon as they arrived, one of his stooges standing a few feet behind with a knife to Bobby’s neck.

Instead there was just… No one. The rain started to poor down now, and the air grew cooler. Castiel grabbed one of the long sleeved shirts Sam had brought her and pulled it around her shoulders. It was soaked through immediately upon stepping out of the car, her tennis shoes slipping in the mud.

Castiel doubted that Sam and Dean had ever been so cautious in approaching Bobby’s house. They kept their footfalls slow, trying not to let the boards on the steps and the porch creak. Wherever Zachariah was, they didn’t want him surprising them.

Dean’s shoulders instinctively relaxed, however, as he stepped through the threshold. “Bobby?”

He got no reply and continued in through the library room. The house was just as silent as outside. Motes of dust floated through a beam of light from a lamp that’d been left on, and that was the only thing Cas could see moving. The pattering of rain on the windows was the only sound.

“Hey Bobby,” Dean tried again, only to have the house respond with more quiet.
“Zachariah?” tried Sam. All three of them tensed waiting for a reply, or for the angel to flap in right in front of them, making casual asides as though he wasn’t the bad guy. Castiel felt limp with relief when nothing happened.

“Okay, you check upstairs,” Dean directed he brother. “Cas ‘n’ I’ll take the kitchen and basement.”

Unsurprisingly, no one was in the kitchen either. Castiel grabbed one of Bobby’s kitchen knives from the drying rack. “I think I should put up another sigil,” she said. “Just in case.”

Dean grabbed the knife from her hand. “Use my blood this time,” he said, then cut into his arm before there was time for argument. “Here,” he presented his bleeding arm to Castiel. “I don’t know how the sigil goes, exactly.”

“Maybe you should learn,” said Cas. “I’ll draw it slowly.”

Dean nodded and Castiel tentatively wiped two fingers through the cut on his arm. His blood was slick and warm across her fingers. She wished that she’d be able to heal his arm, once the sigil was made. They should’ve used her blood, but of course, she still had a scab healing on her own arm that she couldn’t heal. It was scary, how vulnerable she was. Zachariah could pop up any minute, and he’d be out to kill her. He wouldn’t screw it up a second time.

“Okay, that’s it,” Cas said, smearing Dean’s blood to form the last bit.

Dean grabbed a towel off the counter and pressed it to his arm. “Okay. So now if we run into Zachariah in the basement we just need to run up here and get rid of him.”

“I’ll leave it to you to distract him then,” Castiel smirk. She was only half joking. If Bobby were here, he’d either be sleeping and Sam would find him, or he’d be in the panic room. If Anna’s warning were anything to go by, Dean and Cas would find him down there. And that’s where Zachariah would be too.

In the basement, the door to the panic room was closed and locked from the inside. “Bobby?” Dean pounded on the iron door with his palm. “Bobby it’s me. What’s going on?”

Again, they were met with no reply, and Dean pulled open the slat in the door to peer through the window. It was well below Castiel’s eye line, so she could only guess at was he was seeing. Hopefully it wasn’t Bobby in there making all that silence. She hoped he wasn’t pinned to the wall or eviscerated or any number of awful things, with Zachariah standing center.

Dean sighed and closed the window. “He’s not here. It’s empty.”

Castiel breathed a sigh of relief.

“C’mon. Let’s go see if Sam had any better luck.”

It occurred to Castiel then, that having Sam go off alone wasn’t a particularly good idea. It was easy to get lulled into the sense of security that Sam and Dean felt just by being in the familiar house, so often a refuge of safety. But out of all of them, Zachariah would want Sam the most.

Sam clomped loudly down the stairs and met them in the den, and once again Castiel felt relief wash over her. She’d lost track of how many times she’d been holding her breathe out of worry today. The house felt like a more peaceful quiet now that they’d checked it through and hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary, lack of Bobby aside.

“Maybe Bobby just went out to the store?” Sam suggested hopefully.

“What about the phone call?” Cas questioned, looking all the way up into Sam’s eyes. The feelings of “not right” weren’t as pronounced in the house, but there was no way everything was okay.

“I know, I know. Just…. If Zachariah wanted us here, where is he? How do we know he did anything to Bobby at all. Maybe he just hacked the line?”

“And it’s just a coincidence that Anna contacted us in the same day?” Cas said. “She’s been in hiding. She wouldn’t do that.”

“I’m just being optimistic Cas.”

“Yeah, well don’t be,” she glowered at Sam. “We are in the middle of—“

“Hey,” Dean put a hand on Cas’ shoulder, pulling her closer to him, and held up his other hand for Sam to stop. “Not really a good time to let close quarters and travel frustrations get to you. Now no offense Sam, but I agree with Cas. We need to find Bobby, because Zach was here. The panic room was empty and locked from the inside. Plus we never would’ve made the call without Anna’s text, so she might be in trouble too. We’ve gotta find them, however we can.

“Should we check the yard?” asked Castiel.

“Looks like,” Dean agreed. “I think we should stick together this time.”

“Hold up,” Sam stopped them. “We’re here now. We can make the hex bags.”

Coming here and being able to hide behind Ruby’s magic had never been a feasible option before, so Cas hadn’t actively wished for it. But now that this plan was being put into action, it was amazingly comforting. She’d been trying to hide from Zachariah and Raphael for months. That they suddenly wouldn’t be able to see her… There was some kind of emotion about it. It was choking at her throat, whatever it was. It was greater than just relief. Dean and Cas sat on the couch in Bobby’s den watching Sam root around in his drawers and shelves for everything he’d need to recreate Ruby’s super-hide-and-seek-from-angels-and-demons-alike hex bags. Dean popped the top on a bottle of cream soda and passed it to Cas.

“Cheers,” he said, raising his own bottle, his with beer in it.

“Dean, why don’t you help me find some of the stuff on this list?” Sam asked.

Dean grumbled and Castiel knew he hated using anything from Ruby to their advantage, despite the fact that her knife still sat across his lap. He always felt like these remnants of Ruby would turn around and poison them, just as the demon had poisoned Sam.

Cas got up and clinked her bottle against Dean’s. “’Spose he shouldn’t need to mess around with Ruby’s stuff all on his own, Dean.”

Dean nodded and gulped down half the contents of his bottle. Castiel was eager to help Sam and finally be hidden.

Making the hex bags didn’t take long, Sam already being familiar with Bobby’s supplies. He even made a couple extra, in case they ran into Bobby or a fallen Anna. “Here,” he handed one each to Dean and Cas. Castiel shoved hers in her pocket and smiled.

* * * *

If Castiel had thought the mud was bad before, she was longing for it now. As it turned out, slipping in the mud was vastly preferable to sinking into it and sticking. Sam and Dean seemed to be having no trouble with their boots, but her shoes were clearly not meant for the terrain. Castiel wiped her hand across her eyes, trying to keep rainwater out. It was pointless searching for anyone out here. She could barely see three feet in front of her, and besides was so focused on taking her next step without her shoe coming off, that she’d never see anyone even if they were out there.

“Maybe….” Cas looked up and realized she needed to catch up to Sam and Dean. Stumbling forward she started again, “Maybe we should text Anna again. Ask if she can be more specific about where to look.”

Dean nodded, also wiping water from his eyes, and ducked into the nearest garage. Except the back third of the garage was completely smashed, and the car that had been inside was turned on its side.

“Whoa,” said Dean. “Holy crap.”

“Bobby, you in here?” shouted Sam. They couldn’t step in too far without stepping on rubble.

Dean held out a hand in front of Cas’ chest, keeping her from moving forward. “Careful you don’t step on any nails Cas,” before he called out as well. “Bobby!”

“Dean?”

It wasn’t Bobby. The voice was smaller and female.

“Anna?” Castiel questioned at the pile of rubble, her face lighting up.

“Castiel?” the pile asked. “I can’t believe you’re still okay.”

“It’s me Anna,” she said, and ducked under Dean’s hand. “Where are you?”

“I’m stuck,” she said, as Cas rounded the sideways car and saw her. She was lying on her back halfway outside, her long red hair tangled in a mud puddle. The real problem was her legs were still inside, under a bunch of fallen down roofing materials and the driver’s side window of the car. “I think the car’s on my leg.”

Castiel nodded.

“I guess this means you’re not an angel anymore either, huh?” said Dean.

She lifted her head and smiled sadly at him. “Yes. Unfortunately this time the fall was not exactly voluntary. Better this than being dragged back to Heaven though, as I’m sure Castiel can attest.” Castiel bit her lip. She wasn’t quite sure on that yet. “So anyway, who wants to get this car off me?”

Castiel, Sam, and Dean tried to find a grip on the roof of the car, Castiel’s finger finally digging in at the gap between the roof and the door. Sam and Dean’s larger hands gripped at the top of the window. Dean counted to three and together they pulled up. Castiel gasped at the effort. Cars were amazingly heavy, as it turned out, for objects that were mostly hollow inside. Still, somehow they managed to lift the vehicle a couple inches, which was more than enough for Anna to slide out.

Dean ran over to her side to help pull her into relative dryness of the garage. “We might need to go to the hospital for this one,” he said, frowning at her leg. “I’m sure it’s broken and will need to be set.”

“It’s not that bad,” Anna insisted. “A hairline fracture maybe, but I can hack it until we have time. I’m assuming you noticed how Bobby isn’t here.”

“We have,” said Dean. He picked up some kind of tool that had a sharp end and began carefully cutting open the fabric of Anna’s jeans, revealing a calf that was mostly covered in deep purple bruises. Sam started going through the pile of fallen roof, looking for a piece of wood that could be used as a splint, careful not to move anything that supported what remained of the garage.

“Yeah, well Zachariah took him. I found out about his plan and popped down here, and yeah, I know… I said I wasn’t an angel,” she said, looking sideways at Sam, who’d stopped to give her a quizzical look. “I popped down here knowing I’d never be able to fly back up. It was sort of a crash landing, and that’s why Zachariah found me.”

“Did you knock down the garage?” Castiel wondered.

“No, that was all Zach. I started to draw a banishing sigil and he flipped the car on me, then busted out the back wall where I’d been drawing it. Then he took Bobby and left. He was the one who forced me to text you, by the way. I’m sorry I led you into a trap.”

“That’s okay,” said Castiel, feeling fairly useless, as the Winchesters seemed to wordlessly know what to do in a medical situation, and she was just left guessing. She moved to sit by Anna’s side. “If you hadn’t texted us, we’d never have found you. You could’ve died under that car.”

“More important,” said Dean, who was now cutting the fabric he’d removed from Anna’s jeans into strips. “Do you know where Zach took Bobby?”

“Yes. But you should know, he wanted me to tell you. He could’ve set off his trap here, but I guess he doesn’t want Ruby to try and involve herself, so instead he left me to deliver a message.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a trap, it’s Bobby. We’re going to go get him.”

“Yeah, I know. He took him to Van Nuys.”

* * * *

The main problem with what Zachariah had done was that Castiel could see so few holes in his plan. The place in Van Nuys was a box with removable doors depending upon Zachariah’s whim, so no one could get in the box unless the angel wanted them there. Added to that was the fact that they had no weapons that could harm Zachariah aside from a banishing sigil, but that was fairly useless since then they’d only be trapped in the room until the angel returned.

“He calls it his ‘Green Room’,” Castiel explained. Anna was sitting sideways in the backseat of the Impala, with her splinted leg lying across the seat. The configuration left little room for Castiel to sit, but there wasn’t much they could do about it. Dean was speeding toward California as fast as his car could go, and it’d do no good to complain about awkward seating arrangement. “I know he made it awhile ago, but I didn’t really know what for. Presumably it has something to do with the apocalypse.”

“Lilith has been off my radar for days now,” said Anna. “Presumably he’s been keeping her there as well. As you guys know, she was having some minor second thoughts about this whole thing. She does enjoy living I guess, or whatever she does that she counts as living. Anyway, either she’s hiding deep, or Zach’s got her there too.”

“So we’re looking at angels and demons and we’ve got nothing. That’s just awesome.”

“Well,” Anna grinned, “not exactly nothing, Dean.”

Cas turned to her, scooting her whole butt around on her corner of the seat so she was facing sideways toward Anna. This was more comfortable. “Why? What do you have?”

Anna reached behind her and pulled a gleaming blade from beneath her shirt. “Zachariah knew that I’d have an angel blade, so of course he took mine off me. But what he didn’t know was that I also had Castiel’s.”

She handed the sword back to its rightful owner and suddenly the world seemed a lot less bleak. They could make a plan now. They could hurt Zachariah, even kill him. The freefall toward the apocalypse could end today. Or tomorrow, actually, given how unbearably slow car travel was, but still. Castiel turned the blade over in her hands, feeling the weight of it. It seemed heavier now that she was human. The high pitched hum of the its power imperceptible, but somehow in her chest she could feel it still there. The power that could kill an angel, striking through its grace with a combustible force that caused glowing white creation to collapse in on itself before exploding outward.

The next few hours were spent debating the merits of several different plans, all of which sounded insane and suicidal.

“We can’t all just rush in at once, Dean,” Anna rolled her eyes. “The Green Room is inside a warehouse in an old muffler factory. Zach’ll have several angels guarding the room; you’ll never even make it inside.”

They argued more until Dean had another suggestion. “We go in teams then. Sam and I will go in with the sword, then the girls sneak in behind us and put up a banishing sigil. I’ll fight ‘em off until you get rid of ‘em.”

Castiel shook her head. “I don’t think Sam should go at all. This is a trap, remember? This trap was set for Sam.”

Dean started to argue, but Cas talked over him. “Especially if Anna’s right and Zachariah already has Lilith.”

When Castiel had last spent time in heaven, part of the proceedings intent on convincing her that the apocalypse was necessary involved a detailed summary of how and where Lucifer would walk free. Because of how they hadn’t been truly alone all this time, Cas hadn’t yet explained this exactly to the Winchesters. Now that they were hidden by hex bags, she launched into the lengthy explanation.

“So if Zachariah gets both Sam and Lilith in the same location, he can fly off with both of them to Maryland,” she concluded.

“Wow, oh my God, Dean,” said Sam. “I’m so sorry. I… I’ve felt that Ruby was bad news since I got cleaned out, but,” he stopped to swallow back his emotions. “I had no idea.”

“It’s okay. We got you clean. It’s done. No more demon blood,” Dean said with classic resolve.

“I’m just sorry Dean. I didn’t know.”

“Anyway,” Anna interrupted. “We still don’t have a plan.”

“We’ve got a long drive ahead to figure one out,” said Dean. “I need to think on this new information a bit. Why don’t you guys get some sleep? We’ll talk when we’ve all got our heads in the game.”

“Let me know when you want to switch drivers,” Sam said. It was unspoken that they weren’t going to stop for sleep or for anything that might take longer than a bathroom break.

Castiel lay back, stretching herself out next to Anna so she could get some sleep. No one slept.

* * * *

Somehow by the time they were crossing the California border, they had all agreed upon a plan. There were holes in the plan, and Castiel wasn’t sure if it was a very good plan, but it seemed the least flawed thing they could come up with. After a bit of arguing, it was settled that they needed to stop for food and to stretch their legs before Operation Rescue Bobby could be set in motion.

Ten minutes later Castiel was in her familiar spot in the backseat, only she was looking at the back of Anna’s head. Since her leg was still broken, she’d been designated as the getaway driver. The toast Castiel had eaten sat in her stomach like a brick. She was just about to say something about her second thoughts when Dean (sitting next to her) clapped his hand on her shoulder and the car rumbled to a stop. “Ready to go, kid?”

Castiel gulped and nodded and got out of the car.

To Castiel, the first part of the plan seemed the most risky. That worried feeling in her gut worsened as she watched Sam and Anna drive off. Sam was to enter the warehouse on his own, banish the angels inside, and bet back in the car before Zachariah could find him and whisk him away. He would have no back up, because Dean and Cas would be confronting Zachariah, and that part had to be a two man job.

This would never work.

Dean put his arm around Castiel’s shoulders and pulled her into his side. “Hey, this is gonna work.”

“What if we never see Sam again?” Castiel’s voice hitched in her throat.

“Sam’ll be fine,” Dean said, like if he said it enough it would become true. “Now c’mon. We’re gonna be late for the party.”

Castiel reached up and grabbed Dean’s hand in hers, and together they walked the rest of the way to the Green Room, hiding behind their hex bags and the buildings. Finally Cas saw the building where they were headed, the Impala idling outside.

Suddenly a scream from inside the warehouse tore through the air. Cas dove behind the corner of the building, keeping her back flat to the wall. The scream didn’t sound like Sam, but...

What if it was Lilith? What if it was Lilith being transported away along with Sam and now he was clear on the other side of the country? Castiel was starting to suspect Zachariah might’ve chosen this location for his Green Room based on how it was about as far away as he could get from Ilchester, Maryland.

But then came the blessed slam of a car door, and the roar of the Impala speeding away, kicking up rocks behind her. It sounded like Sam had actually done it. Castiel’s heart began to pound harder, and maybe she never actually thought this leg of the plan would work, so she hadn’t put a lot of thought into she and Dean actually having to do anything.

Tears were pricking at her eyes and she kind of wanted to throw up. They had to rescue Bobby, she knew this wasn’t debatable, but now some long suppressed, cowardly part of her kind of missed the plan where she and Anna sat around drawing sigils while Sam and Dean were the ones who actually had to go into the Green Room. Who were they kidding? They were all humans and they actually thought they could go up against angels? This was ridiculous.

She gulped and rubbed her hands on her jeans. Her sword was tucked safely in the sleeve of her shirt, so her elbow couldn’t bend normally, but it was nice knowing it was there. Safely hidden until the moment they needed it.

“Cas?”

She looked up at Dean. He was putting on a brave face for her benefit, but Dean Winchester was terrified. He was scared of what he might find inside, if Bobby might already be dead. Scared of what Zachariah would do with him, for Castiel assured him that the angel wouldn’t kill Dean… That they still “had work for him”.

Dean was scared of what might happen to Cas. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek and tucked her long hairs behind her ear. “We’re gonna be okay, Cas. I’m gonna look out for you, got that?”

Cas nodded, and then she was grabbing Dean around the middle, pulling herself around him for a hug. Her face smashed into his t-shirt, and the feel and smell of it reminded her of her first days where she was reliant on the Winchesters, wearing Dean’s smallest shirt everywhere. Dean held her in the hug tight for a short while, but both of them knew those angels wouldn’t stay banished forever.

“When this is all done, I’m gonna buy you another Justin Bieber CD, okay?”

Castiel smiled and wanted to laugh, but she was too nervous and shivered instead. She took a deep breath, willing the oxygen to fill her with courage. With Dean’s hand on her back, they walked into the warehouse.

* * * *

Inside was dark and empty. Sam had indeed been successful at his part of the plan. In the center of the large room, someone had built a box. Castiel knew that Zachariah had total control over everything inside that box. Where there was a door visible on the outside, the same door probably didn’t exist on the inside. He could change how large the interior was at a whim… It could be bigger on the inside, or it could be smaller. Bobby could be sitting inside a box no larger than a refrigerator. There was no guessing what they would find inside.

Dean opened the door, these concerns not on his mind, and Castiel had no choice but to follow him.

Castiel blinked at the brightness of the room. The size parameters of the Green Room were in fact similar to how they appeared on the outside, and Zachariah had decorated the place with lavish paintings and sculptures. And a harp. Because Zachariah liked to think he was hilarious.

Half the space was taken up by a large devil’s trap, in the middle of which sat a very small girl in a pink party dress. This was easily the youngest vessel Castiel had ever seen Lilith take. She couldn’t have been more than four years old. She was pouting and stabbing a fork into the floor repeatedly.

And on the opposite side of the room, in a chair with ornate carvings and plush cushions, sat Bobby Singer. He looked at least as grumpy as the demon trapped across the room, if not more so. “I can’t believe you idjits. We’re you not aware that this was a trap? Get out of here before that son of a bitch comes back.”

“Bobby,” relief swept over Dean’s face.

“We’re happy you’re alive,” Castiel said helpfully.

“Well, well, well, isn’t this a touching reunion,” Zachariah sneered from over by the food tables. “I assure you Dean, I’ve been treating your hunter friend very kindly.”

Dean turned and reeled on Zachariah. Castiel was meant to hang back while Dean drew his attention away from her, not giving the angel time to strike. Quickly she slunk back underneath a table filled with beer, roasted chicken, and peach pies.

“Let. Bobby. Go,” Dean demanded, daring to get right up in the angel’s face until Cas was safely hidden.

Zachariah remained unmoved, speaking calmly to the raging Winchester, as though he were having a casual talk about the weather. “I’d love to get rid of your hunter, Dean. He’s been such a grump and doesn’t go with my décor at all, wouldn’t you say?”

Dean didn’t say anything.

“But I’m afraid we have a problem. See, I need your brother. And you’re going to tell me where he is.”

“I don’t know where he is.”

“Pesky Winchesters and their hex bags,” Zachariah began to pace around the room. “I really ought to kill that demon when we’re done here as thanks for teaching you how to do that. But… here we are. Now I can’t see your brother anymore, but I know he’s more or less alone. Easy pickings.”

“I’m here for Bobby,” Dean said, his face a careful deadpan.

“What I need from you, before I can give you your hunter back, is Sam’s location. Where were you planning to rendezvous?”

“Nowhere. We didn’t think that far ahead.”

Dean was supposed to have continued getting in Zachariah’s face, eventually backing him into wherever Castiel had chosen to hide. However, with him now pacing around the room, Dean couldn’t figure out how to make that happen. Castiel hoped he would just by chance walk past her.

“Bull. Where’s Sam.”

“I’m not telling you,” Dean growled.

“Oh,” Zachariah raised his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure you will.” He snapped his fingers and Bobby began to groan, clutching at his abdomen.

“I’m afraid your friend might’ve contracted a parasite or two or sixty.”

Across the room, Lilith laughed, watching with delight as Bobby began to cough up blood.

“You,” Dean raised his fist, his knuckles meeting the angel’s cheek with a clang. Dean grimaced in pain, and held his hand gingerly. “Fix… Fix him. Let us out of here.”

“It only gets worse the longer you don’t cooperate,” Zachariah warned and waited a beat. He snapped his fingers again, and suddenly Cas’ head was splitting in half. It was like her skull was a being broken into chunks with a jackhammer. She touched at her ears, positive that blood must be gushing out from them, but found nothing was. The agony broke a strangled cry from her throat, and she fell from her hiding place under the table.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Dean. I thought that girl was your responsibility now. What did you let her do that gave her such a severe cerebral hemorrhage?”

“Leave Cas alone!”

Lilith giggled again, and got up to stick a finger in the frosting of her birthday cake.

“I’d estimate her lifespan at only minutes. And I can fix her, only… I still need to know where you put your brother.”

Castiel’s head felt like it weighed about a thousand pounds, and when she looked around she saw bright yellow spots of light. It was hard to see through them and find exactly where Zachariah was in the room, but she couldn’t wait anymore. One more threat and he might kill Bobby. He wouldn’t hesitate when he also had Castiel as leverage. It wasn’t the plan, but she needed to go to Zachariah. She needed to kill him now.

Dean saw what she was doing as soon as she managed to crawl from her hiding space. Sitting still had been agonizing, but moving was worse. Her head was throbbing so terribly she wasn’t quite sure if she was moving her limbs or not, and just had to assume her legs were standing like she was thinking for them to do.

Dean tried to keep Zachariah’s attention, stepping close to him and narrowing his eyes only a couple inches from the angel’s face. “Okay Zach, we didn’t have a planned rendezvous, I swear. I was just gonna call him after. Let me just get out my phone.”

Zachariah looked at Dean, scrutinizing his offer.

“He’ll never succeed anyway,” Lilith smirked. “Zach, you stupid angel, why do you think I took this vessel? There’s not enough blood in it to open the door. You’re going to kill me now? You’re wasting your chance!”

Zachariah wheeled around and saw Castiel. Was she standing upright? Was she close to Zachariah, within striking range? He was just a shadowy blur behind all the black and yellow spots that made up most of her vision. She was dizzy, and if she just went to sleep she’d be less dizzy…

Crack!

Pain swept up from her leg into her gut which churned, and she must’ve been standing before, because she could feel her leg give out beneath her, bones grinding together. Castiel gulped back her nausea and rubbed her eyes. She was lying flat on her back, staring at the clean white ceiling, and it should’ve been bright, but everything was dim.

Dean’s voice was muffled now, all Cas’ senses shutting down, but at least that meant the pain in her head was less sharp than it had been a moment ago. “Damn it, why do I want to listen to you? You want me to tell you where Sam is, fuck off!”

She was so dizzy, but adrenalin had kicked in regarding whatever Zachariah had done to her leg. She suspected it was broken; she could hear the bones. And then a well polished shoe stepped not two inches away from her eye, and vision muddled or not, it was close enough that Castiel knew exactly where Zachariah was standing.

She would have to stand if her blade was going to hit its target.

Swallowing hard, Castiel pushed herself up with one arm, letting the sword slide out of the other sleeve. The smooth metal was cool against her skin, and when the handle fit into her palm her vision cleared.

The sword was meant to kill angels, so Castiel didn’t expect to be met with such resistance when it met Zachariah’s spine. But it was bone, and Castiel had to stand on her toes to thrust the blade through his neck.

The moment it happened the explosion of grace knocked back onto her butt, broken leg folding beneath her with a sickening crunch, the force of the angel’s grace knocking the breath out of her. The sound of Zachariah’s grace simultaneously imploding and exploding rocked against her ears until she could hear nothing, but someone was by her side, holding her tight. The muddiness of her vision had returned, but it was Dean’s familiar t-shirt rubbing against her cheek.

They were rocking together, back and forth, Castiel across Dean’s lap. Dean was saying something, she was sure. She could feel the vibrations in his chest, but he seemed to get farther and farther away. Still, his arms were strong all around her, keeping her safe.

* * * *

“You want me to tell you where Sam is, fuck off!” Anger pounded in Dean’s ears, guilt clutching at his chest. He could hardly breathe. Bobby was in a bad way, but he’d probably be okay. But Cas… Tears prickled his eyes. She was down for the count. Dean had no choice. There wouldn’t be the element of surprise, and Zachariah would probably kill him before he’d have a chance to stand up, but he had to take the sword from Castiel. He had to try to kill Zachariah, then maybe he could get Bobby and Cas to a hospital before it was too late.

Bobby was sweating profusely and he groaned again. There wasn’t time for the old hunter right now. Dean stepped toward Castiel, but Zach moved with him until he practically stepped on her.

It was all over before Dean knew it. Cas stood up somehow, and then that sword was exploding in Zachariah’s neck.

“Shut your eyes!” Dean screamed to Bobby, taking his own advice. Zachariah’s grace concussed around the walls of the room. When Dean removed his arm from his face, he could see the imprints of Zachariah’s wings arching all the way across the floor. They cut across the devil’s trap. Lilith grinned, then the little girl’s body went limp.

But Castiel had done it. Her brain was exploding and her leg was broken and still the former angel found it in herself to finish the job and save them all, despite her broken human body.

Dean rushed to Castiel’s side. Her leg was basically on backward, and the angel’s grace seemed to have gone right through her. Dean remembered Alistair saying once, that only and angel can kill another angel. “Castiel,” he kissed the top of her head, holding her in his lap. “Cas you did it. You’re better than any angel, Castiel. You’re a little girl and you saved the whole world.”

Castiel’s breath rattled in her chest. Her organs were starting to shut down. Her brain was almost already gone.

Dean’s tears soaked into her long hair. He rocked her back and forth like the motion could keep her alive. “I’m going to buy you every stupid Bieber magazine and we’re going to go for ice cream everyday. Cas…”

Bobby put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dean. Really.” Bobby looked terrible. He needed to go to the hospital.

“Don’t go,” he sobbed into Castiel’s shoulder.

Bobby hobbled over to the little girl Lilith had been wearing and gathered her up in his arms. “Dean, I’m no expert, but I’ve been here at least a day. Zachariah’s minions have gotta be comin’ back pretty soon.”

Dean nodded and silently picked up Castiel’s body. He tried to hold the broken leg in place so that it looked okay. He was so tired. It would never be okay.

Bobby was saying something. “What?”

“Where’s Sam?”

“Oh. He’s at a donut shop about four blocks over. We… We were gonna walk, but her leg’s broken...”

“I’ll call him,” said Bobby. “Don’t worry, I ain’t walking.”

* * * *

“Get up Dean,” Sam smacked his shoulder with something, but Dean refused to open his eyes to see what. He grumbled and rolled over.

“C’mon, Dean. Bobby wants his couch back. And I made bacon. Nothing says life is worth living like fried strips of pig!”

Dean could smell the bacon, and his stomach was growling, but he was too stubborn to offer his brother a response. Then Sam started throwing books at him.

“Ow ow, hey! What’re you trying to kill me?”

“I found us a hunt,” Sam said brightly. “Now come on, you’ve sat around here enough. Eat your breakfast and I’ll show you. I think it’s a shifter, maybe a skinwalker?”

Dean rubbed the sleep from his eyes and followed Sam into the kitchen, but all his muscles still felt like they were on the couch. Bobby had sent them to keep an eye on his place and help man his phones, while the hospital in California kept him for over a week. He’d returned yesterday.

“I’m not really hungry,” Dean decided, swiping four slices of bacon and grabbing a beer from the fridge. He didn’t feel like talking about shapeshifters right now, and Anna would be more than happy to eat the rest of the bacon. She was human again and thrilled about it, her leg healing slowly but surely.

“Dean,” Sam scolded, but he was already walking down the porch toward the car lot. The sun was high overhead and glittering off the old windshields and side mirrors. Dean walked all the way to the end of the lot, munching on bacon. Castiel had been as annoying as hell, like having a kid sister and a know-it-all angel all wrapped into one. But it was so quiet with her gone.

For two weeks she’d been at his side almost every second, save for breaks to the bathroom. She’d kicked the back of his seat while he was driving. Her arm had flopped across his face when they were sleeping. She’d eaten his food. She’d told him he was wrong about something every five seconds and wouldn’t stop listening to Justin Bieber. She’d had a crush on Dean himself for all of a day, and it was probably the cutest thing that had ever happened to him.

She’d kept Zachariah from unleashing Lucifer and Hell on Earth. She’d saved all of them; even the little girl Lilith was possessing turned out to be fine. Traumatized for life, but she’d live. Her parents wouldn’t believe a word of her story, and then they’d send her to Kindergarten next year, just like all the other kids.

Dean wondered if he would’ve sent Castiel to school. She was human, so they would’ve had to come up with some kind of identity for her, but she had knowledge accumulated over millennia. They could’ve pretended to home school her, but maybe she would’ve wanted to go. To meet the other kids and paste pictures of pop stars on each other’s notebooks.

It didn’t merit thinking about, but Dean couldn’t stop thinking about it. She should’ve lived. If only there had been one angel who was on their side. Someone to come in and heal her. It wasn’t fair that Castiel had saved Dean from Hell and rebuilt him entirely, and yet he couldn’t protect Cas for even a month.

“Hey Dean,” someone said behind him.

“Bobby’s back now,” Dean said without turning around. “He can help you find what you want.”

“I wanted to find you.”

The man walked around to where Dean could see him.

It was Cas.

But it wasn’t Cas. The man in front of him was back in his trench coat and backwards tie, walking around looking like Jimmy Novak. His stupidly blue eyes sparkled when he grinned at Dean’s slack jawed expression.

“Castiel? You’re… You died.” Dean’s breath caught in his lungs, aching with hope that this could be real.

Castiel nodded.

“That was you that died.” He needed reassurance of this for some reason. The person he’d held in his arms was a ten-year-old girl.

“You kept me safe, Dean,” he said, and then did that adorable thing where he tilted his head just a little bit, and this was definitely, definitely Castiel. His eyes looked at him with more trust than anyone had had for him since Sam was eight.

Dean bit his lip, and looked away from Castiel, only realizing now that their eyes had been locked on one another. “I got you killed.”

“That depends upon how you look at it. Maybe you let me save you.”

Cas, who he never imagined getting to see again. Cas. But he wasn’t Cas Cas. He was that guy who Dean loved like a great friend. Like if Bobby were actually pretty mind blowingly attractive and full of cosmic angel power.

But he wasn’t the little girl. The Castiel who loved syrup and kept devising ways to get Sam to buy her Lisa Frank stickers and who kicked the back of his seat even in her sleep. He wasn’t the child Dean had grown to love the way he loved Sam, and his heart ached at that.

He searched those blue, blue eyes for a spark of what he’d begun to find familiar now. Searching for some quintessential Cas, even if he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. And Cas smiled. The way he’d never done before he’d fallen, and a smile Dean had never seen on this face. The grin split across his face the same was it had just before the little girl Cas was about to giggle.

Dean wanted to cry the way his heart pounded with relief and couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to touch the guy, if only just to prove he was real. This was Cas, his Cas, standing right in front of him, saying ridiculous things in that way that made them sound so incredibly important and it was Cas. And he’d always been the same Cas, just now complete with a whole new set of experiences. Dean grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug. And surprisingly, Castiel’s arms reflexively wrapped around Dean. It was like they’d hugged before, but also like they hadn’t. Like meeting a new person and already feeling you’d known them all your life.

Dean was concerned suddenly, and pushed Castiel back, holding him at arms length away. “You don’t still have the hots for me, do you?”

“I’m an angel again. I don’t have ‘the hots’ for anyone.”

“Good,” said Dean, super relieved. Because, fine, the Jimmy vessel was hot, and Dean would’ve done filthy things with Castiel had the angel ever wanted, but now? Dean shook his head. He was completely uninterested. He still wanted to take Cas out for ice cream and order extra sprinkles for her… him.

“Wait. You’re an angel again?”

“I just came back to get my Bieber CDs, actually.”

Dean chuckled and wrapped his arm back around Castiel’s shoulders. He didn’t want to let go of him. He didn’t want to take the chance that he’d never see him again. He wanted to watch Disney Channel with him for hours on end until Sam got fed up and made them go to bed.

“How?” Dean asked.

Castiel’s eyebrows knit together. “I don’t know. I know this body was rebuilt, but Jimmy’s soul has remained free, as has Claire’s. I know both of them would prefer her body stay at rest. And I know I was a human when I died, so my soul died like a human soul. I awoke in the nearby woods and was again an angel. I do not know how or why.”

“Maybe it was a reward?”

Castiel laughed. It was weird, because Cas laughed all the time, but Dean had never heard him laugh as a grown man. He missed the shrill giggling of his Cas. “I’m glad to see you have hope again, Dean.”

“Hey, Sam made about a shit ton of bacon inside. You want some?”

“Do you have any maple syrup?”

Dean smiled and kissed Cas on the side of his head above his ear. “As much as you want,” he said. And no way that the Castiel Dean knew was gone, because he was right there next to him.

THE END.