Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Good morning, Sam.”

Distractedly looking up at who addressed him, Sam returned, “Morning, Cass.”

The angel currently sat at the big table in the bunker's kitchen. A stack of books lay to his left, an open volume in front of him. To his right, he had already prepared breakfast while the coffee maker gurgled from behind.

To Sam, it did not look as if their friend was actually studying the book.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sliding into a seat opposite of Castiel.

“Nothing in particular.”

“Found any case?” Sam queried, cocking his head at the now-closed laptop next to the books.

“What about Dean?” Castiel asked back. “Is he up?”

“Judging by the noise coming from his room, I'd say he is,” Sam groaned and got up to cross over to the counter to check if the coffee was finished. “Great timing, Cass,” he sighed as he took the first sip of the freshly brewed beverage.

Craning his neck to look back over his shoulder, Castiel eyed the young man intently. Right at that moment, the younger Winchester brother seemed to be content with his coffee, leaning against the counter to balance himself and closing his eyes. Most recently, both boys appeared to be befallen by general exhaustion and being easily irritated .

It began in late November and got worse with progressing December, Castiel thought. The last weeks have been calm where cases were concerned. So why are they on edge? They are safe here at the bunker, actually leave it rarely between cases. A place to settle down. I do not understand what is getting under their skin.

Turning back to the book in front of him, Castiel directed his gaze at the written words without actually taking them in. He listened to Sam slurping hot coffee and the beats coming from far down the corridor. Recently, it happened more and more often that that was all they heard of Dean all day. For some odd reason, he shut himself away in his room and listened to rock 'n roll in a thunderous volume. Sam, on the other hand, spent most of his time in the library, soaking up one book after the other, simply fascinated by the knowledge that the Men of Letters had gathered.

“I will go and ask Dean if he will join us for breakfast,” Castiel declared and stood to leave the kitchen. With every step he took down the hallway, the music grew louder, and by the time he reached the older Winchester's room, he was not certain whether the hunter would even hear him knock.

After rapping on the door, he knew for sure. Undecidedly, he stood in the corridor and waited. Knocking a second time did not help. When the waiting became ridiculous, the angel was about to return to the kitchen when a thought crossed his mind: Dean would just go in.

Firmly gripping the handle, Castiel pushed the door open and entered the hunter's room without an invitation to find him lying fully clothed on his back on the bed, eyes closed, and the record player straining to play back Warrant.

"Dean?"

Of course, the rock drowned out his voice.

"Dean!" Castiel yelled but still could not rouse his friend. Fed up, the angel stopped the record player, the sudden silence being deafening.

Shooting upright to a sitting position, Dean looked around in alarm.

"What's up?" he gasped, reaching for his colt.

"I came to get you for breakfast," Castiel declared, realizing with confusion that Dean had actually been asleep despite the noise.

"Cass," Dean groaned. "You friggin' startled me."

"Breakfast is ready."

"So what?" Dean pushed when the angel did not make to move. He just stood there, staring at him. Unnerved, Dean swung his legs over the edge of the bed and followed Castiel to the kitchen.

"Morning, bro," he groused as he slid into a seat.

"Same to you," Sam replied, shoving a full mug of coffee over to his brother. "Aren't you deaf yet?"

"Nope."

Taking a sip of coffee, Dean ignored the jab at his preferring his music loud. Then, his features lit up considerably at spotting...

"Who brought the pie?"

"I took the liberty," Castiel stated gruffly. "Does the prospect of pie actually brighten your mood?"

"Oh," Dean beamed, eagerly reaching for the box, "my mood's so brightened."

Placing a generous slice of apple pie on his plate, Dean dug in.

"Claire called," Castiel told them without preamble.

"That's great news," Sam replied with forced cheerfulness, knowing that the angel would love to connect with his vessel's daughter.

"Actually, it is not," Castiel stated. "She called to let me know that she does not agree with Jody dealing with their newest case on her own."

"The sheriff would call if she needed our help," Dean threw in around a mouthful of pie.

"Judging by how Claire avoided explaining the matter, I can only assume that Jody could do with our support but does not want to impose yourself upon us so shortly before Christmas," Castiel argued.

"I don't understand," Sam came back, "She knows we're only a phone call away. Christmas doesn't matter."

“A day like any other,” Dean agreed. “So, what are we talking about?"

Only momentarily, Castiel paused at the Winchesters' declaration that Christmas did not matter before he explained, “They are investigating a series of disappearances. Jody suspects a skinwalker but is not sure about it.”

“-kay,” Dean mumbled with his mouth stuffed full of pie. “G'na ca' 'er an' ask 'bout 'he vics.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam was about to translate his brother's garbled sounds when Castiel beat him to it, “I promised Claire that we'll be on our way after breakfast.”

At that, both brothers shared a knowing look.

“I knew something was cooking when breakfast was already waiting for us,” Sam declared, reaching for a cinnamon roll.

“I don' min',” Dean mumbled before he swallowed and could finish more clearly, “I got pie out of it.”

“Which is the most important thing,” Sam groused and bit into his cinnamon roll.

“It is,” Dean declared steadfastly.

“Jerk,” Sam shot back.

“Bitch.”

Inwardly, Castiel sighed. At least for the moment, everything seemed to be as usual. Whatever had stood between the brothers appeared to be forgotten. Now that they could focus on a hunt, their differences took a back seat until the case was resolved. Despite having observed that phenomenon often, Castiel still did not understand its dynamic.

Including finishing breakfast, preparing themselves and Baby for the trip, and securing the bunker, they were on the road within an hour.

xXx

About five hours later, the Winchesters' black Impala entered Sioux Falls. Heavy gray clouds hung deep above the city, giving the impression that night came half a day early. While Dean concentrated on driving, Sam was asleep beside him. In deep contemplation, Castiel leaned in the backrest of the back seat.

“Maybe it would be wise to prepare ourselves,” the angel suddenly said. “In case we are still here the day after tomorrow.”

“Why?” Dean asked back distractedly.

“It will be Christmas Day.”

“So?”

Dean did not get what the angel intended to say. Castiel, on the other hand, was not sure how he should be more obvious than, “I intend to get a gift for Claire. We should not meet them without taking precautions.”

Stirring, Sam asked, “Precautions for what?”

“Christmas.”

“We're going to be busy with the case,” Dean argued. “None of us will have the time or even the mind for something like Christmas.”

“Definitely not in the mood either,” Sam agreed. “It's just opening up old wounds.”

Old wounds.

Castiel still was confused. Maybe even more now than he was before. Throughout the long time he had first watched humanity, he got the impression that festivities like Christmas were very important to people and were taken quite seriously. Ever since coming to Earth and meeting his charges, he came to the conclusion that rituals were essential. So the boys' lack of enthusiasm for the upcoming holiday left the angel puzzled.

Could it have to do with the time before Dean went to hell? Sam once mentioned it was the only time they did some sort of Christmas, putting up decorations and exchanging gifts. Nothing fancy, just going through the motions. Dean's last Christmas holiday. Yes, that must be it.

“Could you pull over?”

“Here?” Dean shot back.

“Yes, right here,” Castiel confirmed and Dean pulled the Impala up on the curb. The angel got out and walked back the way they came until he reached the shop he had spotted.

In the mirror, Dean watched the door.

“Do you have any idea why Cass suddenly is into Christmas that much?”

“I think it's because of Claire,” Sam shrugged and rubbed at his eyes to chase away sleep. “A family thing, you know. Something that might help him get closer to Jimmy's daughter.”

Staring at the mirror without really seeing the reflection in it, Dean contemplated his brother's words. Truth was that he could not really relate to the sentiment.

“Do you remember any Christmas we had together?” Sam asked into his musings.

“Yeah, dude,” Dean sighed. “Don't remind me.”

“Aside from that one,” Sam specified. “Did we ever have a Christmas together with Dad?”

Delving deep into his memories, Dean closed his eyes. What he saw were incoherent snippets, snapshots of events that mingled in random order:

Silver Christmas ornaments dangling from dark branches.

Stockings.

The smell of a roast.

Dad's voice.

Snowglobe.

Baseball glove.

Mom's pregnant stomach.

Happy laughter.

Anticipation.

Bells.

Candles.

Baby crying.

Dad weeping.

Fire.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Dean shook himself out of his memories and sat up in his seat.

“What?” Sam instantly queried. “What did you remember?”

“Nothing,” Dean groused. “Where's Cass? What's taking him so long?”

“Maybe he's right.”

Glowering at his brother, Dean grimaced skeptically.

“Can't hurt to treat a friend to a nice surprise,” Sam shrugged. “The season doesn't matter.”

The latter argument convinced Dean.

“Alright,” he relented. “But do you have any idea what to pick?” Eyeing his younger brother intently, he prodded, “C'mon! You're the one that got engaged and had a fiancé once upon a time.”

“You were the one with a family for a year,” Sam shot back.

“Yeah, well, Lisa knew not to expect normal,” Dean shrugged lopsidedly.

“Jess...” Sam paused. “Jess liked girl things. Perfume for example.”

“Great,” Dean scoffed. “We'll get Jody perfume, so on the next hunt, the monster can smell her ten miles against the wind.”

“Okay, not the best idea, but you get the example, right?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean kept thinking. Right at that moment, the side door opened and Castiel climbed into the back seat.

“Alright,” he said. “We're good to go.”

“Not yet,” Sam replied, and both hunters looked at the angel expectantly. “What did you get?”

xXx

“Dean! Sam!”

Genuine surprise accompanied Jody's happy exclamation. “What are you doing here? Come in!”

Waving them over to the house, she fell in step beside Dean and pushed the front door open for the brothers and angel to enter. As they crossed over to the living room, a young woman came down the stairs and joined them.

“Hello, Claire,” Castiel said solemnly.

“Hello, Castiel.”

Her greeting sounded reserved, but at least, she favored the angel who wore her father's body as his vessel with a small smile.

“Claire, look what the cat dragged in,” Jody cheered. “Dean and Sam Winchester.”

“It's really nice to see you, Sheriff,” Dean stated, allowing her to give him a brief hug. Then she turned to Sam and enveloped him in an embrace as well.

“I'm so glad that you're here,” Jody sighed, gesturing them to take seats on the sofa while sinking into an easy chair herself. “But don't you want to tell me what led you here? Are you on a case?”

“Well, actually...” Dean muttered, glancing at Claire.

Of course, Jody instantly caught the implication. “Claire?”

“Well, I did call Castiel,” the young blonde shrugged. “I got some questions. I didn't think he'd come running with the cavalry.”

“So... you don't have a case here?” Sam queried cautiously.

“Actually, I do,” the sheriff nodded. “It's just... Well, now that you're here, you could just as well have a look at it, right?”

“Sure,” Dean agreed.

“Alright.”

Jody was gone so quick, that neither brother had a chance to process. A glance at Castiel taught them that he and Claire were gone. So it was just as well that the sheriff just as suddenly reappeared, a stack of files in hand.

“These are the missing persons,” she said, spreading the manila folders on the coffee table. Opening the first, she began to report about the case that she was first working at the sheriff's office. Then she suspected a supernatural being behind the disappearances and began to investigate in that direction. In total, there were five people gone. The files contained extensive information about them, including interviews with relatives and friends that Jody had conducted.

Sighing, the brothers began to read.

They were so engrossed in their lecture that Jody startled them when she announced that she made dinner. Surprised, both Winchesters followed her to the dining table where they were greeted by Alex, Jody's second adoptive daughter. Once everyone had settled at the table, Castiel said grace.

Despite the sheriff's insistence that she did not go to any effort, the brothers tended not to believe her as the table bowed under a plethora of choices like meatloaf and different sides, fresh bread, and cheese. Over the meal, they talked about all sorts of things and ended up on the case over dessert.

“I'm not sure about that,” Sam mused. “Doesn't sound like a skinwalker to me.”

“Could be anything, really,” Dean agreed. “A werewolf, vamps...”

“No,” Jody steadfastly declared. “I can rule out vamps. Don't forget that two of the victims disappeared in broad daylight. Vamps rest during the day. I seriously doubt they were hunting then.”

“Yeah, yeah, you're right,” Sam mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“Didn't you sleep enough in the car?” Dean teased.

“A great meal, sitting by the fireside... I'm profoundly relaxed,” Sam smirked.

“I think you should retire soon,” Castiel suggested. “Start out fresh early in the morning.”

“Says the angel who doesn't need sleep,” Dean scoffed.

“I did sleep when I was human,” Castiel replied earnestly. “So I know who important sleep is for the human regeneration cycle.”

“No sense in arguing that,” Jody declared, getting up from her seat. “I prepared the guest room for you boys.”

“You still have a guest room after the girls moved in?” Sam queried with surprise.

“Well, you've got to squeeze into the office,” the sheriff shrugged, “Hope you boys don't mind sharing a bed. I figured, since you're brothers, it wouldn't be a problem.”

“We'd be happy on the sofa, too,” Dean assured.

“No, no,” Jody warded off. “It's all good. It's right next to the kitchen. The coldest room of the house, actually, that's why I have my office there, but I've given you extra blankets. So, make yourselves at home, guys. Good night.”

“Night, Jody,”

“Night, Sheriff.”

Upon entering the office, the brothers discovered that Jody had a pull-out sofa that now stretched almost to the desk on the opposite wall. Thick pillows and an old-fashioned quilt over a duvet made it look comfortable. When Sam pulled back the covers, they saw that Jody had also spread two overlays made of sheepskin over the whole bed before she topped it with a sheet.

"Old times," Dean remarked wistfully as he shrugged out of his overshirt.

"Huh?" Sam made, putting their duffle on the sideboard.

"Two brothers in one bed."

Shedding his clothes except for boxers and t-shirt, Dean sat on the edge of the bed and switched the lamp on the improvised nightstand, a bucket with a round tray atop, on.

"Which side do you want?"

"Window," Sam replied, also removing his clothes. Grimacing, he glanced over to the window that was covered by heavy curtains. Though it certainly was not open, it did not do much to keep the cold outside. “Jody wasn't kidding. It's frigid in here.”

“A little. I heard that's good for a night's rest.”

“Not when you freeze to death,” Sam chuckled wryly.

Dean watched as his brother got ready and smiled to himself. It had been quite some time since they had last shared a bed. The couch was short, so the resulting bed was narrow for two, but the pull-out was long enough to accommodate Sam's tall frame.

“Sam? Do you also have the feeling that something fishy's going on?”

“No,” Sam shook his head as he switched off the ceiling light and moved around the bed to sit down on his side. “Why? Because we couldn't identify the monster yet?”

“No, that's not it,” Dean replied, taking the duvet with him as he lay back. “It's... I don't know... The whole day felt so...”

“Domestic?”

Dean nodded.

“Guess that's because Jody's redeveloped her mother instincts now that she has Alex and Claire,” Sam mused aloud as he crawled under the covers. “She's extending it to us.”

Dean scoffed, “We're roughly the same age.”

All Sam did was chuckle. “Night, Dean.”

“Night, bitch,” Dean growled back and switched the bedside lamp off. Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, he let his mind wander. As he still could not grasp what seemed off about the other hunters' behavior, his thoughts came around to their current accommodation. At the bunker, they had moved into a room of their own respectively. In the beginning, Dean had been excited. He could not remember his first four years when he had had a room of his own, so having a place to call his own was thrilling.

Dean loved it.

Dean also loved being on the road with Sammy. Growing up traveling and hunting had welded the brothers together, had forged the bond that connected them and had helped them through all the trials on the road so far.

A smile tugged on his lips when he recalled them sleeping in the same bed, alone at their motel room, dad away on a hunt. They both had been boys and easily fit under the blankets together. Way back then, Dean had been taller than his younger brother and spooned up behind him, one arm wrapped around Sam protectively and his other hand under the pillow on his colt.

“Sammy?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you remember us sharing a bed when we were kids?”

“Yeah,” Sam mumbled back sleepily. “Why?”

Worrying his bottom lip , Dean contemplated his answer, “ Guess I've got nostalgic. Never mind.”

Hearing and sensing Sam move, he looked around and found his brother settling on his side. Just for a moment, he hesitated, but then Dean turned as well and scooted up to Sam's back. At first, he was uncertain about snuggling in closely, but as Sam did not shoo him away, he spooned up as well as he could as his younger sibling was much taller now. When he finally eased himself against Sam and put an arm around him, warmth and a content feeling spread through him.

“Night, bro,” he murmured and believed to hear Sam's smile in his breathing. Within a minute they were both asleep.

tbc...

Chapter Text

Waking up, Dean found it hard to breathe. Something constricted his chest. Due to the aches he felt, he already feared that he caught a cold overnight, but then he heard a snore. A snore from close to his ear.

Opening his eyes, Dean realized why his breathing was so labored.

His brother was sprawled out on top of him.

For a second, he was annoyed.

Then a loving smile cracked his features and out of a whim, he ruffled his younger brother's long hair.

“Huh?”

Sam stirred.

“Morning, bro,” Dean murmured into his ear, “Could you stay on your side of the bed?”

An elbow dug into Dean's stomach, making him groan.

“Oops,” Sam made sheepishly and scooted off his brother. It still was dark outside. “How late is it?”

“Something around seven,” Dean replied, reading off the fluorescent numbers of the clock above the door.

Pushing the duvet back, Sam sat up.

“You think Jody's already up?”

Instead of replying, Dean grabbed the covers and pulled them close around him. Even the short moment had been enough to feel the cold in the room. Of course, it was not so cold that he could see his breath, but it certainly was not as warm as in the rest of the house. He felt the bed dip when Sam got up and listened to him gathering his clothes and leave the room.

When Dean woke up the next time, he was alone and faint sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains without being able to chase the dark away. Dean had not even noticed that his brother did not return to bed. Turning around, he saw sports clothes draped over the backrest of the chair which told him that Sam had gone for a run. A habit that Dean was not able to relate to.

With a groan, Dean contemplated whether he should stay in bed. As he heard voices and other noises coming from the kitchen and/or living room, he decided to get up. They planned to go on a hunt after all.

When he finally entered the living room, the whole group of hunters had already gathered at the breakfast table.

“You let me sleep in?” Dean mumbled, still half asleep, as he padded to his chair.

“Looked like you needed it,” Jody declared. “We need you to be as fit as a fiddle.”

“Sorry, what?” he groused. “Who still says that?”

“Are you fit, bro?” Sam prodded.

“Sure. Just need to wake up properly. Oh, yeah! Coffee!”

Sliding into his chair, Dean picked up the big mug that Jody filled for him and took a first sip. It was hot and strong.

“I brought the rest of the pie,” Castiel remarked, cutting off a nice big slice for Dean and putting it on his plate. Then he distributed the rest to the others.

“I can fry pancakes or bacon if you'd like some,” Jody suggested.

“Both?” Dean shot back just before he took a bite of pie.

“I should've expected that,” Jody snickered and went back to the kitchen.

Over breakfast, the hunters discussed their plans for the day. Alex and Claire would, due to their surrogate mother's insistence, do more research. Castiel agreed to stake one of their suspects out with Dean, and Jody would go to surveil another potential monster together with Sam.

The team was just leaving the sheriff's house when first snowflakes tumbled down from the dark gray clouds.

“Maybe we'll have a white Christmas,” Jody enthused, turning to the girls, “Wouldn't that be wonderful?”

“Sure,” Claire sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Thrilling,” Alex chimed in, though it sounded more like chilling.

“Kids,” Jody shrugged helplessly. “No sentimental streak.”

“There's nothing sentimental about hunting,” Claire replied dryly. “A lot of snow might make it more difficult, actually, and there's a storm warning on th-”

“I know,” Jody cut her short. “One more reason why you two will stay at the library.”

Once more rolling her eyes, Claire climbed into the sheriff's car.

“Having your hands full with those two, huh?” Dean teased good-naturedly.

“Not just with those two,” Jody shot back, giving him a telling look.

“Hey!” he protested, “We're low-maintenance!”

Sam shot him an incredulous look.

The way Jody quirked her brow seemed rather skeptical.

Castiel just shook his head, “No, you're not.”

Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Dean crossed over to Baby. “What are you complaining about? Isn't feeding me with pie easy enough for you?”

Cocking his head to the side and quirking a brow in an oh so characteristic way, Castiel mused about that question before he chose to ignore it.

“Fine,” Dean shrugged, opening the driver's door. “Pout.”

“Have fun with the stakeout,” Sam called teasingly before he climbed into Jody's car.

Right.

Just when Dean sank into the driver's seat, Castiel got in on the other side. One look at the angel was enough to know that Sam might be right with his prediction.

xXx

Their surveillance did not unearth anything new.

At least, Dean learned nothing new about their suspect. Instead, he had heard everything about Claire. Once he got started, Castiel did not stop talking about his vessel's daughter until he ran out of what was news to them. Then the angel fell silent.

Dean did not mind.

Sitting in companionable silence was alright for him. He did not necessarily need to talk. Listening to music would be nice, but of course, he knew that it was too distracting. Replaying songs in his head, Dean listened and watched their target's property.

Darkness began to fall when Dean's cell phone rang and Jody was on the other end, informing him that a relative of one of the missing people was found murdered. Apparently, she and Sam were going to check out the crime scene to see whether there was any connection. Dean informed Castiel and they resumed watching their target.

“Do you see anything suspicious?” Dean groaned about half an hour later. “All that man's interested in right now is decorating the Christmas tree. He's busied himself with putting up the lights and hanging ornaments for the last three hours.”

“Are you suggesting to stop the surveillance?”

“Yeah, that's what I'm saying.”

Of course, the angel disagreed, “He might act just when we stop observing him.”

Huffing, Dean got out his cell phone and contemplated calling his brother. A blue minivan chose just that moment to pull into the driveway of the house they were watching. Holding his thought, Dean watched a woman and two children alight from the car and go to the front door. Mom let the trio in and they vanished inside the house. Lights switched on in the hallway and the kitchen and the father whom they had been surveilling all day crossed over to where his wife and the children were. Both the boy and girl were visually happy to see him, greeting him exuberantly.

“Even watching Dr. Sexy is more suspenseful,” Dean groused, turning to reach for a bag of snacks on the back seat.

“Dean?” Castiel demanded his attention. “They are arguing.”

Through beginning snowfall, they could actually watch the argument of the parents becoming heated. All of a sudden, the man snatched a big carving knife from the knife-block and turned on his wife.

“Fuck!” Dean cursed, pushing the door open. Castiel right behind him, he ran to the house. The front door did not open when he tried to charge in. As they could not afford losing any more time, he let Castiel pass. The door stood no chance against the angel's super strength, and Dean ran in, turning the corner to the kitchen. When he stormed in, it was too late.

The mother lay on the tiled floor, her chest torn by several deep stabs. Blood was everywhere. Both the father and children were gone.

“Cass,” Dean muttered, shocked. “How could that happen?”

“There was no indication whatsoever,” Castiel replied emotionlessly. “You said it yourself, the man was totally unsuspicious.”

“Yeah?” Dean snorted angrily. “But that was wrong.”

“Dean...”

“I was wrong!” the hunter went on, brushing a hand over his short cropped hair. Agitation began to build in him. “I even wanted to quit watching while you said we should stay. Now she's dead because of me!”

“Dea...”

Castiel did not get a word in when the hunter continued with his self-deprecation, “How could I be so stupid? I should've seen it despite his Christmas-loving-dad-act. Now she's dead and it's my fault. I need to figure out what we're dealing with. It's not a skinwalker, that's for sure.”

“No, it is not,” Castiel agreed, wracking his mind in order to try and recall everything he had ever read about any monster they had encountered. “Whatever the creature is, we had no chance to predict this, Dean. It is not your fault.”

“It's not?” Dean spat. “Cass, we sat on our butts right outside the house and did nothing to prevent this! We couldn't even determine what attacked her!”

Deciding that it was senseless to argue with the hunter right now, Castiel pushed past him to squat down next to the woman.

“Talking with the only witness would be helpful,” he stated dryly, reaching out for the woman to place his hand on her forehead. Sensing last remains of life in her, he called upon his grace. With an unearthly, white glow the angel's healing power flowed into the woman's body, knitting the wounds back up and restoring her internal injuries.

Groaning, she gasped for a rattling breath.

Puzzled, all Dean could do was watch while his gut churned with the realization of his failure. Despite their suspicions, he failed to notice the danger the family was in, he failed to check on the victim to see whether they could help, and he did not even pursue the monster that did this to her.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Ma'am,” Castiel queried in his low, rumbling voice, startling her despite aiming for gentle, “Can you tell us what happened?”

“My husband,” she gasped, eyes growing wide with shock. Her attempt to sit up failed until Castiel supported her. “Oh, my God! Something's wrong with Mark.”

“In which way?”

“He...” Helplessly, her eyes found his, “He spoke so... confused. It didn't make sense.”

“Can you recall what he said to you?” Castiel queried.

Haunted, she let her gaze roam all around the kitchen.

“Where are Jamie and Tempe?” she asked with rising panic. “Where are our children?”

“We are here to help,” Dean tried to assure her as he squatted beside the angel. “Anything you can remember can help us to get your children back.”

“Mark, he... he said he became part of something bigger,” she muttered, still clearly in shock. “He did not say what it was, though, just asked if we were going to join him. I... declined. Saying that he should give me more details. That's when he flipped and... Oh, my God! He grabbed a knife! He stabbed me!” Suddenly recalling the pain, she grabbed at her chest and pulled at her blouse. Becoming aware of the blood, she freaked, “Argh! What the hell? Is that...? That's mine! Mark stabbed me! I'm-”

Within a second, she lost consciousness when Castiel put two fingers against her forehead and sent her to sleep.

“She was beginning to ramble,” he told a stunned Dean. “She told us all we needed to know.”

“We could have asked if her husband has a place where he would go when he's upset,” the hunter shrugged.

“Right,” Castiel agreed, abashed. “I'll wake her back-”

“No,” Dean stopped him. “Let's see what the house can tell us about him.”

Confused, the angel stood up with Dean and followed his example when the older Winchester began to search the house.

xXx

About two hours later, the hunters met at the sheriff's office. Jody started up her computer and brought some crime scene and autopsy photos up to show the team what had happened.

“Same as our victim,” Dean said as he eyed the pictures. “Stabbed multiple times, blood splattered everywhere.”

“Thankfully, there was enough life left in yours for Cass to save her,” Sam threw in. “Late Mr. Carter wasn't as lucky.”

“Yeah, blood drained, heart missing,” Jody stated, “so we could be dealing with a vampire after all.”

“Could also be a werewolf,” Claire suggested.

“Somehow I don't think it's that easy,” Sam sighed, reaching for the mouse and pulling up another set of pictures. “Something doesn't add up. It's a waning moon, so it's the wrong time for a werewolf for example.”

“And vampires rarely feed on the flesh, only the blood,” Claire remarked.

“What confuses me is that there's no apparent connection between the two families,” Jody told them. “They live in different parts of town and seem to have nothing in common what we might usually find: the same fitness studio, same doctor, the same way to work, stuff like that. Nothing.”

“So... we should try and track Mr. Potter down,” Dean said. “He's taken his kids with him. Who knows if he won't kill them as well.”

“Did you find anything at their house?” Jody wanted to know.

“We saw pictures taken at a cabin but couldn't find out yet where they were taken,” Dean answered.

“Brought any of it?”

“Actually... yeah.” Fumbling his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, Dean opened up a shot he had taken of the framed picture and showed it to Jody.

“I think I have an idea where that is,” the sheriff stated. “Up north is a lake and a couple of fishing huts. Maybe Potter's gone there.”

“Alright,” Sam said, “Show us the way.”

“I can,” Jody nodded, “but first, we'll drop the girls off at my place.”

“Oh, no!” Claire groaned, rising from her seat, her annoyance palpable. “Why do you keep doing that? I'm a hunter now! Don't treat me like a kid!”

“You are my kid now,” Jody argued back, “and you'll do as you're told. You're not coming with us tonight. My last word.” Her gaze trailed from the young woman to the angel, “Castiel... Why don't you stay with Alex and Claire?”

Perplexed, Castiel looked from Dean to Sam and finally to Jody.

“Actually, I would assume that I was of more assistance if I accompanied you on the hunt,” he said. “Especially as we still do not know what we are dealing with.”

“Which is exactly why I'm going to feel much better knowing you're there to protect my daughters,” Jody declared. “Besides, there are still a couple of books in my collection that I haven't read yet. You could check if you can find any hint at the creature we're hunting in there.”

“Jody's not wrong,” Dean threw in. “Some of the books she salvaged are in languages that the girls can't read. We need you there.”

“If you say so, Dean.”

“Yes, I do,” Dean grinned at the angel. “You know all languages of the world, Cass. You're our secret weapon.”

Cocking his head to the side with an unreadable expression, Castiel watched the brothers don their jackets. Inwardly, the angel rejoiced at seeing the hunters so relaxed. The previous tension seemed forgotten.

The ride to the sheriff's house did not take long despite the snowflakes swirling around the cars. Initially tiny crystals had changed to big, clustered flakes that begun to settle everywhere. The windscreen wipers needed to work harder now to keep the snow away and according to the radio news, it was going to get worse.

When Jody dropped the girls off, she exchanged a long, knowing look with Castiel. Offering her a reassuring smile, the angel nodded at her.

“Take care. Be safe.”

“Thank you for staying,” Jody told him. “We'll be back as soon as possible.”

Giving her another nod, Castiel stepped back while Jody drove off, showing the brothers who followed in their Impala the way out to the lake.

xXx

“The weather forecast wasn't kidding,” Dean groused as he stared out into the thickening flurry of snow. Outside of town, with no other traffic so far, it was not hard to keep Jody's tail-lights in sight. Right at that moment, the jeep's indicator flashed before Jody turned right onto a dirt road.

“Hope my baby's up for that ride.”

They drove about a mile before the sheriff turned left this time. Only about a hundred yards further, the jeep stopped and Jody climbed out. As soon as Dean left the Impala, he pulled the fur-lined collar of his quilted jacket up against the wind that washed over him in a cold gush.

“Alright, what have we got?” Sam asked.

“First cabin ahead,” Jody stated, getting out her service weapon. Of course, she had exchanged the regular shells against silver ones beforehand. “What's the plan?”

“First, let's see if anyone even is out at that cabin,” the younger Winchester replied. “Then we'll make up a plan.”

“Right, we'll spy the place out first. Maybe we can find out further details about the creature we're hunting.”

“Or maybe...” Sam cautioned, “Mr. Potter attacking his wife actually had nothing to do with the other murder. Maybe he was depressed and attempted an extended suicide.”

“After preparing the Christmas tree?” Dean shot back, perplexed.

“That's not uncommon,” Sam shrugged. “People do the weirdest things, and trying to create a final perfect moment before taking a loved one's life seems to be high on the list.”

“Did you learn that at law school?”

“Really?” Sam scoffed. “We've got to discuss that now? Let's save the discussion about motives for when we have a hot drink in front of the fireplace, alright?”

“Fine with me,” Dean agreed, blowing warm breath onto his hands before he rubbed them together. “Tell me why we're out here again?”

“We're out on a hunt,” Sam chuckled wryly as he fell in step beside Jody while Dean followed close behind.

“Wonder whose idea that was,” Dean grumbled to himself.

Up ahead, they could soon make out the dark shape of a small house. For all they could tell, the cabin appeared vacated. They double checked to be on the safe side and returned to their respective cars.

“Good that the snowfall's lessened a bit,” Jody remarked as she opened the driver's door, “There are a couple of cabins out here.”

“Let's hurry up then,” Dean declared and marched on to get back into Baby. Sam had hardly gotten into his seat when he already put the gear in reverse and backtracked the way they came. The trail the tires had left was already blurred by fresh snow.

With Jody taking the lead, they inspected two more cabins before they were successful with the fourth. Upon closing in on the house, the hunters saw light in the windows. There were two cars, so they probably had to deal with more than just Mr. Potter.

“Alright, boys,” Jody mused aloud. “As I'm the sheriff here, maybe I should just knock and tell them that they should go back to town before the snow storm hits.”

“You mean to say that's not the storm yet?”

“Are you kidding, Dean?” she chuckled, “This is nothing.”

“If you say so.”

Ignoring his complaints, she turned to Sam who nodded at her to go ahead, “You're right. You can have a look at how many we're dealing with and whether the children are in there.”

Even though he rolled his eyes, Dean also gave her his go-ahead. They would be close by in case she needed backup. As they watched Jody walk up to the front door, he muttered, “I'm freezing my friggin' ass off.”

“Stop bitching around.”

“You've gotta talk, bitch,” Dean shot back.

“Shut up and watch, jerk.”

Eager for action, the older brother zipped his mouth shut and redirected his attention on the sheriff who just knocked on the door that opened only a short moment later. He saw Jody talk with somebody but could not tell if the man was Mr. Potter. Suddenly, there was a struggle.

Jody cried out.

Seeing a blade, both Winchesters ran toward the house, guns at the ready.

“The kids are in the house!”

Spotting an opportunity when Jody ducked, Sam fired at the man who stumbled back under the impact. Dazed, he swayed for a moment, before he hefted his knife to meet the hunters charging at him.

Seeing that the bullets only slowed the creature, Dean paused to exchange gun for blade. Sam fought with the monster now, luckily landing a punch on its jaw that threw it back a step. Using the distraction, Dean swung his weapon, cleanly severing head from shoulders.

“Whoa!” Sam cried out, clutching at his arm. “I think it bit me.”

“What? Let me see!”

Fighting a surge of panic, Dean reached out for his brother. For many creatures, one bite was enough to pass their curse on to somebody else. Pulling Sam into the light that fell out through the open door, he slapped Sam's right arm away to be able to examine the other limb. At first, he could not find much, but then, he discovered that a claw had pierced the thick sleeve and stuck in the flesh.

“Um, guys,” Jody suddenly called out. “That's not normal, now is it?” Pointing at the chopped off head, she indicated the eyes that still glared at them and lips that curled back to reveal vicious fangs.

tbc...

Chapter Text

“What the fuck?”

Both brothers stared at the severed head with shock. Aside from baring its teeth, it hissed and snarled dangerously. Without its head, its body could only twitch but not move coordinately.

“I take it you've never seen any creature do that before,” Jody remarked wryly.

“Actually... no.”

Dean just stared.

Fascinated by the still undead head, neither of the hunters noticed that somebody closed in on them from behind. With a wild roar and a blade in hand, the man lunging at them took them by surprise.

“Whoa!”

By a hair's breadth, the blade swished past Dean's shoulder. Sam intercepted the weapon arm and twisted it, trying to use the attacker's momentum to bring him down. Screaming, the man reared in the hunter's grasp and kicked at him. Momentarily unbalanced by the foot hitting his calf, Sam let go. In his stead, Dean charged at the creature. Forgoing punches, he slashed at it with the knife right away. Jody brought up her gun but could not risk shooting for fear to hit Dean.

Injured by the hunter's blade, the monster howled. Unfortunately, the wounds only slowed it down but did not stop it. Once more, Dean stabbed at it, burying his hunting knife deep into its chest. A second later, Sam was by his side. Between the two of them, they managed to decapitate it. Headless, it slumped against the wall and fell to the ground, its head lying in the snow beside it.

“For heaven's sake, what are those creatures?” Dean panted. Bending down, he drew his knife through the snow and over the trouser of the fallen but still not dead monster to clean it before putting it back in its sheath.

“Hope Cass can find something,” Sam muttered and pulled his phone out. While he waited for the angel to answer, Jody entered the cabin and crossed over to where the two young children huddled in a corner. Both hunters glanced at her as she knelt down to try and comfort the kids. “Oh, yeah... Cass? Can you hear me?”

Alarmed, Dean looked over at his brother.

“Yeah, we caught two of them,” Sam reported. “They're pretty hard to kill, though. Dean beheaded one and it's still alive.” Pausing to listen to Castiel, Sam shrugged at Dean, gesturing at the body beside them as if to say 'you tell me what's going on'. “Right, quite vicious fangs. They tried to just grab and bite us. Yeah, I'll take a picture. Just a second...” Putting the call on hold, he photographed the head of the second man who attacked them and sent the picture to Castiel. Then he waited.

“What did he say?” Dean prodded.

“He's still researching,” Sam explained, a grin tugging at his lips as he tried to imagine the angel buried in books like Bobby so often was. Quickly, the pleasant memory made his heart ache. Bobby was gone. “Wait... Yes, Cass, I'm listening... You want us to what?” Apparently, Castiel repeated his latest suggestion. “Alright...”

Snapping the phone shut, Sam forwarded, “Cass wants us to tie one of them up and then place the head back on its shoulders.”

“Great,” Dean scoffed. “What for?”

“To try and confirm his theory.”

“What's supposed to happen? Does he think it grows back to the body?”

“Actually, yes, that's what Cass believes.”

“You're kidding, right?” Studying his brother closely, Dean came to the conclusion, “No, you're not.” He groaned. “Hey, Jody! Can you give us a set of your handcuffs?”

Catching the one that the sheriff threw at him, Dean grabbed at the body at his feet and turned it around to cuff the hands behind its back. Then he leaned it against the wall. Scowling, he contemplated the wisdom of their actions. Indicating Sam to wait for him, he went to the car to get rope and tie the feet as well. Once done, he put on the heavy-duty leather gloves he had brought as well. Only then, he reluctantly moved over to where the head lay.

“I so don't want to do this,” he complained, grimacing at Sam.

“Why're you whining at me?”

“Well, you could give it a try just as well,” Dean suggested. “It was your idea after all.”

“Don't kill the messenger! I just forwarded what Castiel asked us to do.”

Grimacing again, Dean agitatedly shook his head. Throwing his hands up, he groused, “Seriously, man?”

Sam shrugged.

Groaning, Dean rolled his eyes and bent down, taking the head between both hands and turning around to the body. Carefully, he set the head down on the neck, keeping it in place...

…and watched with morbid fascination as the usually mortal wound healed itself.

Writhing in its bonds, the creature tried to bite.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean cursed.

“That's Arthur Nolan,” Jody let them know as she reappeared in the door. Assessing the man's current condition, she squirmed, trying to hide her rising agitation and failing when she muttered exasperatedly, “I didn't think... It's horrible what happened to him. He was supposed to be at his sister's in Wichita, not...”

Helplessly, she gestured at his restrained form.

“I'm part of something bigger now,” Nolan surprised them by speaking up. “Byron's just waiting for winter to pass, then we'll move on... find others who'll join our family.”

“This Byron guy,” Sam said, “Is he the one who turned you?”

“He's the head of our family. We love him. That's why Bill went to get his wife and children. We want them to be with us. Be like us.”

“I see...”

Skeptically, Dean eyed the shackled man.

“He and Potter are still alive,” Sam turned to Jody, dialing the angel's cell. “Maybe there's a way to save them. Let's see what Cass has to say.” Though the call connected, Sam had some difficulty to understand the angel as there were interferences due to the storm. Readily, he followed the others inside when they dragged Nolan into the cabin.

“So...” Sam began once he stuffed his phone back into his jacket. “Cass said they're so-called Nachzehrer. They live in packs and, according to a note in the book he got the information from, the transformation can be reversed by killing the pack leader.”

“That's great!” Dean cheered mockingly. “Did Cass also tell you how to kill the pack leader?”

“You've got to place a copper coin in his mouth before beheading him,” Sam replied dryly.

“Ah, for the ferryman, so to speak,” Jody speculated.

“So he can take them over River Jordan,” Sam nodded, reaching into his pockets. “I don't have any coins. Do you?”

“Who's got coins nowadays?” Dean scoffed, patting himself down as well. “No, nothing.”

“I have a few,” Jody threw in, producing her wallet. “The pennies are copper, right?”

“Yeah, but it should be an older one,” Sam explained. “Newer coins have a zinc core if I remember right.”

“How old should it be?” she mused, looking at the dates on her coins. “These are relatively new ones.”

“I'm not sure, but older than these.”

Momentarily at a loss, the hunters stood together in contemplation until Sam turned and began to search the drawers of the sideboard. The other two crossed over to other pieces of furniture and a couple of minutes later, Jody announced a find.

“Looks promising,” she cheered as she came out of the kitchen area, producing a whole bottle filled with small coins.

Taking her find from her, Sam pulled out the cork and shook the money out onto the dining table.

“Looking good,” he muttered as he pushed the coins around, sliding a few to the side. “Some of those are from the early 80s or even older.”

“The older the better, right?” Dean queried as he pocketed a handful of pennies. With determination, he crossed over to where former Mr. Nolan sat, asking, “So, who's your alpha? Who's turned you and when did he want to be back?”

“Screw you.”

“Why did I even bother?” Rolling his eyes, Dean used a towel to gag the Nachzehrer. Then, he turned to Jody, “You know the case best. Who would you suspect to be the alpha?”

Shaking her head, Jody sighed, “No idea. We could bring Potter in and ask him.”

Both Winchesters shared a look of trepidation as questioning Potter first included mending head and body.

“I'll go and check on the kids,” Jody declared, climbing the ladder to the bedroom under the roof.

xXx

Back at the sheriff's house, the girls were currently busy with a huge Christmas tree that Castiel had carried in for them from the garage. After fitting it with fairy lights, they opened all the boxes that Jody had hidden behind the sofa and began to pick out ornaments for the decoration while an old Christmas movie ran on the television.

“What?” Alex asked with confusion, “Not even his mother recognizes him?”

“Don't you pay attention?” Claire huffed her exasperation. “The angel made it so that George was never born, so he's got no mother.”

“Is that what you're doing, Castiel?” Alex wanted to know.

As the angel was much more interested in the movie than the girls were, he missed her curious question. To him, it was strange and confusing to see how the film's creators imagined angels to be. Though he understood the concept of revealing possible consequences as a means to teach somebody a lesson, he had trouble to get the implications for the angel.

“Hello!” Claire snickered, “Earth to Castiel!”

“Huh?”

Turning his head at hearing the girls giggle, Castiel tried to figure out whether they were laughing about the movie or him.

“Are you like Clarence?” Alex prodded. “Claire mentioned that you got no wings anymore.”

“I fell,” he grudgingly admitted. “All angels fell.”

“Why?”

“We were cast out of Heaven,” Castiel gravelly told her. “Betrayed by one of us.”

“So you once could fly?” Alex asked with innocent curiosity.

Though he got the impression that she did not mean to gloat, Castiel glared at her.

“Sore subject,” Claire murmured, pulling on her foster sister's arm. “Let's get back to the tree.”

As he did not intend to explain that he was NOT a second class angel but a warrior, Castiel returned his attention to the screen where George just was confronted by his brother's gravestone.

'Your Brother, Harry Bailey, broke through the ice and was drowned at the age of nine,' the TV angel explained, triggering George to say, 'That's a lie! Harry Bailey went to war!'

Apparently, the man was devastated, and of course, he had every reason to.

“I love when he realizes what Clarence intended to show him,” Claire mused aloud as she hung up a shining ornament in shape of a bird.

Fascinated, Castiel watched as George Bailey begged the angel and God to bring him back to life. A friend of George stopped with his police car, telling him he had searched the whole town for him. Realizing that he was alive, George ran the whole way through town, shouting at everything and everyone Merry Christmas. At his house, trouble was waiting, but suddenly a lot of townspeople showed up, collecting money for George and in the end, his bank was saved. George and his family were happy.

“This is so cute,” Claire smirked, grinning at the angel behind his back.

“The movie or him?” Alex snickered.

Claire cocked her head at Castiel.

On the screen, the people were singing Auld Lang Syne and George discovered a book that the angel left for him, a note inside, thanking him for the wings. In the tree, a bell rang and the little girl on George's arm declared, 'Teacher says every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.'

“Awww,” the girls cooed.

Scowling with annoyance, Castiel focused on the movie.

'Atta boy, Clarence,' George said to himself, smiling.

Clarence? Castiel started. Wait a second, Meg used to call me Clarence.

Heat burnt in his cheeks as it fell like scales from his eyes that the demon had referred to this movie.

Dean and Sam must have known. Why didn't they explain it to me?

Reaching for the remote control, he switched the TV off. As so often, he was frustrated that he did not understand quotes that Dean used or other references to movies or series that the brothers had watched. Metatron once wanted to pass his cultural knowledge on to him, but Castiel had refused, too angry at the scribe of God for betraying him. It had been pure luck that he knew the works that led him to where Gadreel had hidden his grace.

I don't want to know what would have happened if Metatron got a hold of it.

Shaking the thoughts off, he turned to see what Alex and Claire were doing. Stunned, he took in the big tree, sparkling with fairy lights from the bottom to the top where a silver star crowned the colorful decoration.

“What do you think?” Alex asked.

“It's...” cocking his head to the side, the angel searched for the adequate term, “overwhelming.”

“Why does that feel as if it's not a compliment?”

“Guess because Castiel is unfamiliar with white lies,” Claire replied, glancing at the angel. Her insides twisted at seeing her father's face, knowing that he was not in there anymore.

“I was supposed to tell the truth, was I not?” Castiel asked back. “In its entirety, the tree is a well-balanced concoction of shapes and colors that develops a momentum in combination with the tiny lights that is easy on the eye and yet intense in its impact.”

The two young women looked at each other with utter confusion.

“I still don't know what to make of his statement,” Alex whispered.

Of course, Castiel could understand her and wondered how he could simplify his response, finally settling on:

“It's... surprisingly pretty.”

Seeing the beaming grins that lit the girls' eyes as well, he knew that he got it right this time. Inwardly, he heaved a sigh. Living with Dean and Sam, he had learned a lot about humanity, but despite his extensive knowledge, some things still went over his head.

One thing he knew for sure, though, was that the weather turned from bad to worse and that he had not heard from the hunters since Sam had asked about how to kill the creatures they were chasing. With a pang of regret, he stretched his ruined wings, knowing he had no means to get to the hunters fast in case they needed him.

“What else did Jody ask you to do?” he queried in order to distract himself. “Can I help?”

“We're going to prepare dinner next,” Claire told him. “It should be ready when the others get back.”

“If they get back,” the angel murmured to himself.

“Pardon? I didn't catch that.” Expectantly, Claire awaited his answer.

Not wanting to worry her, Castiel said, “I was just wondering what you and Jody have planned for tomorrow.”

“Oh, that's a secret,” Claire smirked. “And I won't tell you, because you can't give accidentally away what you don't know.”

“I saw a turkey.”

“Yeah, well, Jody insisted on the bird,” Claire shrugged. Noticing his discomfort, she suggested, “Why don't you put away those boxes? Then we can set the table together.”

Nodding, Castiel set to work.

xXx

After questioning Potter, the hunters now knew that they were dealing with three more freshly turned members of the pack as well as its leader, Scarlett, and her mate Byron whom she had turned decades ago. When they were going to return was anybody's guess, though, especially as the weather became worse by the minute.

“It's really turning into a blizzard,” Sam sighed after a look outside. “I bet the Impala will get stuck in this weather if it isn't already. That car isn't made for snow. We might have a chance to get back to town with the jeep.”

“It might be best to stay here,” Jody replied. “The storm's only bound to get worse. You could take the jeep while I stay with the kids, but...”

“But we won't leave you on your own with those two,” Dean cut her short emphatically. “The pack will come back. We'll wait and take them down here.”

“I'm voting for Jody taking the children back to town,” Sam countered. “They already trust the sheriff and the last thing we need is to worry about the kids when the pack gets back.”

“The kids are alright upstairs,” Jody argued. “You'll need my help against the alpha.”

“Sam's not wrong,” Dean agreed with his brother. “Right now, you might still have a chance to make it to town. We can't leave Nolan and Potter here. Taking them with us would alert the others...”

“Just as much as the car in the driveway does,” Sam cut in.

“How bad is it anyway?” Jody wanted to know and pushed past the brothers to take a look outside. When she opened the door, a gust of wind swirled a thick flurry of snow inside. Instead of throwing the door shut again, she kept standing for a couple of seconds, the flakes dancing around her into the cabin. When she finally shut the storm out, she looked at the Winchesters with trepidation. “No need to decide, boys. None of us should be driving in this storm.”

“What took you so long?” Sam queried. “Did you see anything?”

“I thought there was a light on the road,” she shrugged, “but I must have been mistaken.”

“So we're stuck here,” Dean groused. “Awesome.”

“Well, it could be worse,” Sam remarked, a grin tugging on his lips at seeing his brother's consternation. “Imagine the place was a shack without any heating.”

“Keep going, bitch, and I'll kick you out.”

“Empty threats,” Sam snickered.

Instead of continuing the argument, Dean crossed over to the fireplace to apply more wood and fan the flames anew. Soon, the fire crackled and warmed the hunters who settled on the sofa and armchair near it. The satellite TV only showed as much snow as they saw outside the window. Luckily, Sam found a pack of Uno-cards and for lack of other options, they played. Hours passed and to the brothers' dismay, Jody won one round after another.

Dean was just checking the cards for marks when Sam suddenly got up, listening intently.

“What's up?” Dean asked, instantly alert.

“I think someone's outside,” Sam told them. “Maybe it's them.”

“Alright...”

Dropping the cards and picking up their weapons, the hunters moved to the front door. Though it was unlikely that the creatures made it back to the cabin in this blizzard, they were on guard. Sam wanted to peek out the window next to the door, but it was caked with snow.

As soon as the door opened and white glistening shapes moved inside, the hunters acted, trying to incapacitate the newly turned people and taking down the woman that had bitten and condemned them to become monsters.

Two bullets from Jody's gun felled Byron. Using the moment he was stunned, Sam and Jody put handcuffs on him.

At the same time, Dean fought with Scarlett. The leader of the pack turned out to be more than a match for the hunter as she hit him so hard he staggered backward. On him in a second, she straddled his waist, pummeling him. Pausing for just a moment, she glanced around at the other threatening forces before she grabbed her intended victim and dragged him bodily out the door and into the storm.

tbc...

Chapter Text

When it became late, Castiel had urged Alex and Claire to eat. For hours, they had waited for their foster mother and the Winchester brothers to return. Of course, they saw how bad the weather became, and still they hoped that the trio would make it back.

Now, the girls lay curled up on the sofa, fast asleep, while Castiel stood at the window. Staring into the snow that swirled through the dark, he tuned out the angel radio and concentrated on the hunters instead. He knew they were alive, but due to the warding on their ribs, he could not locate them while his sense of the sheriff was strong. It would not be difficult to find her if only he knew how to reach them.

Since he had ridden along with the Winchester brothers to Sioux Falls, he did not have his car. Maybe it would not even get far in the storm that raged outside. Going by foot was possible, but it would take him like forever to make it out to the lake.

Unable to shake his unease, Castiel heaved a sigh. With every passing minute, his concern grew. At some point, he could not contain his nervous energy anymore and began to walk up and down in front of the window.

“Castiel,” Claire gently said, putting a hand on the angel's shoulder to stop his pacing. “They will be alright. Dean and Sam are experienced hunters. They can take care of themselves.”

“I know,” Castiel rumbled. “This was not part of the plan. I am concerned.”

“We're concerned as well,” she murmured, “but Jody knows her district like the back of her hand. She knows where they can find shelter. I'm sure they're safe.”

Eyeing her intently, Castiel could not find fault with her reasoning. Trying to lighten the mood, he asked, “Should not I be the one to comfort you?”

“Didn't you once say you're a warrior?” she asked back with a wink, “So you're not one to comfort others anyway, now are you?”

Castiel just blinked a couple of times. It was then that he felt a tingling in the back of his mind. The bond he shared with Dean alerted him.

“I should go.”

“What?”

Perplexed, Claire saw him stride purposefully to the hallway.

“Wait!” she called out, following him. “Where are you going?”

“I'm going to search for them.”

“In the blizzard.”

Castiel lowered his head in earnest confirmation, “Yes.”

“You're serious...”

“Claire, I'm an angel. I don't feel the cold. I don't tire. I should have gone with them in the first place.”

Seeing Claire offer him a small, uncertain smile, he turned around and left.

xXx

“Dean!”

Sam's scream echoed in Dean's ears when the pack leader dragged him out of the cabin. Still dazed by her punches, he hung in her grasp on the back of his shirt collar. Freezing cold assaulted him as soon as they were outside. His boots protected him, but jeans and shirts were quickly caked with snow and half frozen.

“You thought you could kill me?” Scarlett spat viciously over the howl of the storm. “Well, you can't.”

Unable to find a footing as she hauled him along backward, Dean draggled a furrow into the snow. His hands found her arm and he clawed at her jacket in an attempt to slow her down. Feeling her pause for just a second, Dean twisted his body around and tried to plant his feet to no avail. Stumbling forward, he fell to his knees and was pulled up again.

“You must know that my children are totally loyal to me. Given the opportunity, they will bite your friend and your brother. Turn them.”

The laughter in her voice sounded mocking to Dean's ears.

Doesn't she feel the cold? I'm freezing!

“Then they'll come to find me. They're always coming for me.”

Feeling his limbs stiffen up by the cold already, Dean wracked his mind about what to do. If he wanted to have any chance to overpower her, he had to act fast.

“What about me?” he panted. “Don't you want me for your pack?”

“You'd be a fine addition to my pack,” she sneered. “But I'm afraid that all you're now... is food.”

Awesome!

Struggling against her relentless grip, Dean did his best to get away. A powerful shove thwarted his potential escape, throwing him face first into a drift. Before he could do as much as gasp, he felt her weight on his back.

Piercing pain in his neck made him scream into the snow.

She's drinking off me!

Gunshots thundered through the howling of the wind and the weight lifted. Pushing himself up, Dean turned. Scarlett lay in the drift, stunned by the impact of the silver bullets fired from close range.

“Sam?”

“Yeah!”

He heard him, but he did not see him. The dark shape to his left? Sensing her move rather than seeing her, Dean lunged at the Nachzehrer. His hands found her neck, throttling her. How she did it, he never knew, but suddenly, he fell forward, flipping over and landing on his back. This time, she grabbed an ankle and began to run.

“Sam!”

Dragged through the deepening snow on his back, Dean could not tell whether his brother still pursued them. All he saw were flecks of white and black rushing by.

Scarlett cried out.

Gaining momentum when she dropped him, Dean rolled down a short slope. When he came to a stop and tried to stand, he slipped on ice beneath the snow. Looking around, he found Scarlett sprawled on the ground.

She might be impervious to the cold but she was not without weakness. Grabbing a fistful of snow and throwing it in the monster's face, Dean momentarily blinded her. As she attempted to wipe the snow out of her eyes, Dean took the first opening he saw to lunge at her and, reaching into his pocket, grabbed the handful of change there.

“Eat that,” he hissed as he pushed the coins into her mouth, covering it with one hand to keep her from spitting the copper out.

Craning his head back, Dean avoided her hands lashing out at him. With his free hand, he felt for the knife that he carried on his belt. It was not as big as his hunting knife, but it would have to do.

“Dean?!”

Barely audible, the call drifted through the blizzard.

Damn! He won't find me!

“Argh!”

Something scratched at his leg, tearing the jeans and his flesh.

Ignoring the pain, Dean sliced at her neck. Blood gurgled out, hot on his hand and wrist. Once more, he lashed out, stabbing, slicing, somehow trying to sever throat and spine. Suddenly, the monster beneath him went limp.

Breathing heavily, Dean knelt over her.

Then he began to shiver violently.

“Deeeeean!”

“Sammy!” he shouted back, shocked by his voice giving out. How bad was his neck injured? Trying once more, he managed a hoarse yell.

“Dean!”

His brother's cry sounded closer this time. Thankfully, he headed in the right direction. Dean could see a light amidst the snowfall.

“Sam!”

“Dean!”

Seemingly out of nowhere, he was there. Dean was so cold that he hardly felt his brother wrapping his arms around him and pulling him up.

“Wh-where's the c-c-cabin?” Dean asked, teeth chattering as the wind whipped snow into his face.

“Over there,” Sam muttered back, “First... let's get this on you.”

With some effort, he helped Dean into the coat he had grabbed as he ran out after the creature and his brother. The icy storm threatened to wrangle the heavy fabric out of his hands while he struggled to maneuver his brother's arms into the sleeves and pull the coat onto his shoulders. At the same time, he had to manage to keep Dean standing. After fumbling the zipper closed, Sam put an arm around Dean and demanded, “So... off the ice. C'mon!”

As they slithered across the lake, Dean could hardly stay on his feet. Somehow, they supported each other until they reached the bank. Once Sam got his footing, he offered Dean more help as they climbed up and back into the forest. Unfortunately, they could not find their way from there. The tracks they had made were blown away by the storm and the constant swirl of flakes made it hard to see far.

Sam knew they needed shelter.

Then and there!

Where?

Looking over a towering snowdrift they came across, the younger Winchester recalled something he had heard or read a long time ago. Grabbing his brother tighter, he steered him over to the mount of snow. Pushing his free hand deep into the drift, he felt resistance and grabbed a branch. Making a decision, he shouted over the wind, “Dean! We won't find our way back!”

“So what?” Dean groaned.

“Keep standing for a moment,” Sam demanded and quickly reached out for Dean again when his older sibling could not stand on his own. Damn!

Lowering Dean into the snow, Sam turned back around and began to dig at the drift. As soon as he uncovered a branch, he pulled on it to try and make enough space to crawl under it. On his knees, Sam used his flashlight to shine into the cavity. As he did not flush any animal, he declared it safe and turned back around. Awkwardly holding the branch up with his back and taking the flashlight between his teeth, Sam took hold of Dean and dragged him with him as he moved backward into the dark.

As he had hoped, they got out of the harsh wind.

Pulling Dean all the way in and leaning him against the tree trunk, Sam backtracked and shoveled some snow back to where they had passed.

“Wh-what are y-ya doin'?”

“I'm closing the door so to speak,” Sam replied, sitting next to his brother and putting the flashlight down on the forest floor. Patting down Dean's coat, he searched for gloves. Pulling them out of the pockets, he took Dean's hands between his own and blew warm breath on them before he began to rub them for warmth. He could feel his brother trembling with the cold. Once he thought it was enough, he put the gloves on Dean's hands.

“S-s-sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm... not sure, but... I think she... scratched me.”

Sam cursed.

Picking up the flashlight, he first shone at the branches they cowered under and found a place where he could hang up the lamp. Then he searched for any wound and first discovered the bite mark on Dean's neck. Cursing, he examined it closer. As it did not bleed anymore, he kept searching for the scratch his brother mentioned and that turned out to be a claw mark on Dean's thigh. It did not look too bad but Sam still wracked his mind about how he could treat it. He also had to warm Dean up or he would be going into hypothermia.

Knowing that his brother's clothes were caked with snow, he unzipped the coat again and urged Dean to shrug it down to see how bad it was, to see whether the snow melted and soaked his clothes.

“What...?”

“Shut it,” Sam demanded, brushing away snow from his shoulders. “Out of the coat.”

Of course, Dean did not want to and struggled, but Sam was having none of it. Once he got the stiff-frozen over-shirt off as well, he wrapped his arms around his brother and rubbed his back and shoulders for warmth before he helped him back into the coat. Neither was an easy task within the confines of the comparatively small space underneath the tree's branches that were weighed far down by snow.

Shaking out the shirt, Sam contemplated whether he could use it for bandaging the scratch. Producing his knife, he cut it up and wrapped a long strip around Dean's thigh to make a pressure dressing.

“S-s-sam-m-my...”

Hearing the pitiful moan, Sam pulled Dean against himself, murmuring to him, “I know, you're cold. I'm cold, too. But here we're safe for now. No storm... and the whole tree's covered with snow. That should give us some protection.”

“Like an igloo.”

Startled by the chilling female voice, Sam reached for his gun.

“Easy, Samuel.”

“Billie...” Dean coarsely ground out, recognizing the voice and shivering all the more in the presence of the reaper. In the shadows beyond the cone of light, they merely made out eyes and teeth of the dark-skinned woman.

“Get away from him!” Sam demanded angrily.

Clicking her tongue at him, Billie chided, “Oh, you Winchesters. Always out for trouble. Always bending the rules. I'm fed up with it.”

“You won't take Dean,” Sam hissed. “Once the storm is over, I'll take him back to town. So you will keep your scythe off him.”

“Who said I'm here for him?” the reaper retorted.

Sam choked.

“Nothing to say, Sammy boy?” Billie snickered.

Groaning with the struggle to sit further up, Dean tried to get between the reaper and his sibling, warning, “Don't you dare touch my brother.”

At that, Billie just could laugh.

“That's the Winchester boys to a T,” she chuckled. “Oh so protective of each other. Sacrificing for each other...” her voice became a furious hiss, “defying the natural order. I'll rejoice on the day when I will finally come for you.”

For a second, her words confused Sam as they struck him as odd in this situation where she virtually just had to wait until they froze to death. Holding her glare, he realized what was wrong.

“You didn't come to get either of us,” he said, “You're not mad at us, at least not now.”

Scoffing, Billie sarcastically came back, “Now aren't you a smart Alec?”

“Your hands are tied...”

“Someone ordered me to stand down,” she groused and spat, “See you on your final day, Winchester.”

For a moment, both Sam and Dean thought she was gone, releasing a breath of relief before an eerie sound put them back on edge, “Merry Christmas.”

This time, it seemed like she really left.

Exhaling in an anxious rush, Dean moaned tremulously, “Sh-sh-she scared the c-crap out of-f me. Why's she g-got to show up when it's NOT our time?”

“Guess she just likes to mess with us,” Sam shrugged. “Her idea of payback for cheating Death before.”

“It's so not funny.”

“Certainly is for her.”

Dean did not buy that. “And what did she mean with s-someone told her to s-stand down?”

“That doesn't have to concern us now.”

Unzipping his own coat, Sam squirmed around to get even closer to his brother. Turning Dean became awkward when they needed to tangle their legs, but then Sam pulled him close to his chest in order to share his body heat. Fumbling with the coats, he managed to push the respective zippers together.

Pays off that we both got the same model, he thought with relief as he closed the coats and put the collars up. Dean's icy cheek rested against his own and he turned his head to blow his breath on his sibling's skin. Maybe it's wishful thinking or imagination, but I think it's less cold in here.

“Sammy,” Dean muttered tiredly, his anxiety making his voice waver a little. As much as he tried to snuggle up to his brother, he failed. Gratefully, he felt Sam closely put his arms around him. “I'm sorry, Sammy.”

“What for?” the younger Winchester asked with confusion.

“For being such an ass lately.”

Sam chuckled.

“I mean it, Sammy,” Dean groused, “I don't even know what's wrong with me. I just feel... weird.”

“How so?” Sam wanted to know, deeply breathing in the scent that was so much Dean and that mingled with the smell of resin.

“I'm... I'm not sure. Maybe it's putting down roots? Does that make sense?”

“I think it does,” Sam nodded, “Though I'm not sure why it should affect you now. We've spent a couple of years at the bunker after all.”

“I could only imagine that it's got to do with the trials we've been through,” Dean contemplated. “I mean, we've almost constantly been on edge, often left to work cases or fight Heaven or Hell... Most recently, we've spent a lot of downtime at the bunker.”

“Yeah, I think that makes perfect sense,” Sam told him, ruffling his short hair. There still was some snow in it and he brushed it away.

“I want Cass...”

Smirking to himself, Sam thought about the plaintive remark. It almost made Dean sound like a child. What exactly his brother meant remained unclear, though. Somehow, Sam doubted that he just asked for the angel's company.

Nestling up to Sam, his head in the crook of his brother's neck, Dean murmured, “I love you, bro.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” Sam replied with a teasing edge to the insult.

“Bitch.”

xXx

At the sheriff's house, Claire tried to concentrate on the book resting in her lap. Beside her, Alex was sleeping, and she wished, she could do the same. Knowing that Jody, Dean, and Sam were out there, likely caught in the blizzard, she worried. As a result, she merely stared at the book instead of reading it. Though she believed she made it through both pages, she could not tell at all what they were about.

In addition, there was Castiel.

Despite his assurances that he would not suffer from the cold in the blizzard, she could not help her concern growing at the thought of him wandering the storm. Or maybe it was the fact that Castiel worried for the others. Blizzards could be deadly. Each year, several people died because they got lost in the storm. Drivers whose cars got stuck and did not hold out in their vehicles froze to death.

Her imagination pushed pictures of Jody and the brothers into her mind as they stood rigid as ice statues in the forest, frozen in motion like the victims of the Snow Queen in the Narnia movies.

Shaking her head violently, she tried to banish such thoughts.

“Wha's up?” Tiredly, Alex rubbed at her eyes. “Are they back?”

“No.”

“How late is it?”

Instantly alert, Alex sat up.

“Early morning,” Claire replied, glancing at the clock on the satellite receiver. “Almost five.”

“Oh, my God. Did you hear from them? Are they safe?”

“Nothing yet,” Claire shook her head. “The phones are down.”

Groaning, Alex got up and padded over to the dining table to get herself something to drink. As she was on her way back, a bell that hung on the Christmas tree jingled softly.

Smirking at her foster sister, Alex remarked, “What did they say on the movie? Every time a bell rings...”

“...an angel gets his wings,” Claire finished the line. Secretly, she hoped that was true. As it was, all they could do right now was wait until the storm was over. “C'mere,” she said, holding her arm out invitingly and Alex crossed over to scoot onto the sofa and snuggle up to her.

xXx

Out in the blizzard, Castiel walked as briskly as the storm allowed. Wind and snow whipped into his frame and face and he pulled the trenchcoat tighter around him. Though he did not actually feel the cold, it seemed to tire him this time. The way was long and he had not even made half of it yet.

Night is drawing to an end and I am still of no help.

If there was one thing that Castiel hated it was to be helpless. Where humans felt it in their guts, he kind of felt it in his grace that something was wrong. Though he did not hear either of the brothers praying to him, he just knew that they were at risk.

It was right then that the tingling in the back of his mind intensified with Dean calling out for him. A moment later, his sense of yearning turned into words.

'Cass, where are you? If you can hear me, please get us home.'

Dean's in danger!

Despite the storm, Castiel fell into a run that turned out to be more a jog hindered by snow. By now, he had reached the forest and blazed a trail through the drifts where the dirt road to the cabins meandered through the woods.

Not for the first time that night, he mourned his ruined wings. Once upon a time, he would have soared above the dark clouds and the flakes obscuring his vision now. With his flight feathers that were longer than his vessel's arm, his wings had been magnificent, shimmering like diamonds on the velvety, blue sky that was about to turn into night.

Castiel would have been able to search the forest in no time.

A surge of grief coursed through him and he subconsciously called out to his father in Heaven to hear his prayer.

Driven by fear for the Winchester brothers, he plowed on through the snowdrifts.

“Argh!”

Sudden pain in his back made him cry out. Agony pooled between his shoulder blades and he sank to his knees. Deep dove his hands into the snow as he doubled over, head bowed, and groaned through clenched teeth.

Pain wrecked him, so intense that it almost made him black out.

tbc...

Chapter Text

Cowering on hands and knees, Castiel's vessel recalled how pain made him gasp for breath, pant and writhe against the tendrils of agony spreading from the point of origin through his whole system. Even though the angel did not actually need to breathe, he went through those motions in order to deal with the hurt.

Only slowly, the pain subsided, but when it did, Castiel felt something else:

Weight.

A growing weight where the bones recently had felt way too light.

Too light because the feathers that once grew there were burnt.

My feathers!

Hardly daring to hope, Castiel concentrated on how the sensation in his back changed. He did not need to look around. For millennia, he knew the feeling of full-grown wings. Now he sensed return what he had sorely missed.

Opening his eyes, he noted that his whole appearance shone with grace, melting the snow beneath him. About to stand up, he realized that that hardly was appropriate. Remaining on one knee and foot, he bowed his head.

“I humbly thank you, Father.”

Actually, he did not really expect God to answer, so he was surprised at hearing him in the back of his mind.

“You earned it, Castiel. Your wings are courtesy to my sister, though.”

“Amara?”

Stunned, the angel did not know what else to say.

“Yes, Castiel,” she replied. “You may look up.”

When he lifted his head, she stood right in front of him, her black dress billowing in the wind that still howled around them but that neither of them felt.

“Thank you, Amara.”

“You're welcome, Castiel,” she said. “You're Dean's best friend. He gave me all I ever wanted, so it's only just to repay him... starting with giving you your wings.”

Apparently, his confusion could be clearly read off his features, because she laughed softly.

“I honestly like you, Castiel,” Amara stated, “I can see now why my brother values you so much. Dean needs you. He will always need you. And I'm sure that eventually, you both will find what you are looking for.”

An all too human flush colored Castiel's cheeks.

“You are cute when you're embarrassed,” Amara chuckled. “I don't want to keep you, though. Go! Use your wings and find them!”

Castiel did not need to be told twice. Inclining his head, he once more thanked her. Then, he spread his wings wide and flapping them twice, he was gone.

xXx

“Dean!”

Sam's scream still rang in Jody's ears when she punched one of the pack members. Knowing that they could put him back together, she pulled out her hunting knife and cut off his head. Then she knocked one of the two out that fought with Sam, and together, they wrangled the last one down. Quickly, they tied him up with tape.

“Oh, my God,” Sam panted as they got back up. “She's got Dean!”

It all happened so quickly. One moment, they had been sitting at the fire, playing cards, and the next, Sam was grabbing both his and Dean's coats, his weapons, and stormed out the door despite her yelling after him that he should stay.

As she could not afford to waste time, she turned to the fallen Nachzehrer and tied him up as well. To be sure, she checked on the prisoners again before she took the severed head to put it back on its body. It still was disconcerting to watch how it healed back together.

“Sheriff?” a young, wavering voice echoed down from the attic.

Of course, the brawl has woken the kids, she thought ruefully.

“We're all doing fine,” Jody assured them. “Go back to bed.”

“Daddy?” the little girl whimpered.

Right, one of them is their father, Jody admonished herself. They must get scared seeing him tied up.

“Your father is alright,” she assured them. “I'm protecting him. Stay upstairs. You're safe there.”

The little girl, Tempe, was crying and her brother pulled her into a hug to shush her. Seeing their anxiety, Jody did not find it in herself to leave them on their own.

“Alright, I'll come and get you down,” she assured them. “But I need to make sure it's safe down here. Understand?”

“Yes, sheriff,” the boy muttered, squeezing his sister.

“Alright...”

While Jody once more tested all bonds, though, she noticed something different about her captives. The eyes of Mr. Nolan seemed to clear and he looked up at her with obvious confusion.

“Sheriff Mills,” he muttered. Attempting to move, he noticed his ties, looked frantically around and saw the others. “What happened? Why are we bound?”

“What do you remember?” Jody asked back, surprised that he suddenly seemed to be back to his senses. Though Sam had told them that killing the alpha would revert the others back to human, this was the first time she observed it.

“I... was on the way to my car,” he replied. “Then... nothing. How did I get here? And who tied me up?”

“The bonds are for your own safety, Mr. Nolan,” Jody informed him. “You were... in a manic state. Once I'm certain you're no danger to yourself or others, I'll release you.”

“Did that happen to me, too?” Mr. Potter asked.

“Yes,” Jody nodded, taking two steps back so she could face the whole group at the same time. Struggling for an explanation, she told them, “It happened to all of you. I don't have all the information yet, but it looks like you were... poisoned. Also, we're currently trapped in this cabin due to a blizzard. As soon as I'm able to contact our station, I'll get backup and everything will be sorted.”

Her gaze drifted to Byron. According to what they had learned about him, he had been turned decades ago, and she was curious whether he remembered anything of the years since then, or if he was hurled back into his last memories before he was bitten. Now was not the time to question, him, though. She made a mental note to make sure that he was taken care of separately, interviewed by herself and maybe one or both Winchesters.

Thinking about them, she wondered whether they were alright.

The storm's bad. I should have stopped Sam from going after the alpha. Inwardly, she chuckled wryly. I wouldn't have stood a chance in hell. Dean's his brother after all.

Feeling confident that the worst danger was over, she allowed the children to come down from the attic. As soon as they reached the bottom of the ladder, they stormed over to where their father sat on the floor, still tied, and threw themselves at him.

Right at this moment, another person appeared in the cabin, his arrival announced by collective startled noises.

Whirling around, Jody found...

“Whoa! Castiel! How did you get here?”

“I tuned in on you,” he replied in his gravelly voice, looking around for the brothers. “Where are Dean and Sam?”

“The alpha, she took Dean,” Jody explained. “Sam followed them.” If she did not know better, she could have sworn she saw panic reflect in the angel's eyes. Only reluctantly, he took in the current situation at the cabin, looking each of the captives over.

“These persons are no danger,” he finally declared. “I do not see any trace of wrongness. We can release them.”

“Good to know,” Jody sighed and just turned to Potter and his kids when the bonds of all captives opened and fell away. Perplexed, she realized that Castiel had to be responsible. Knowing that time was of essence, she asked, “Are you going to search for the boys now?” but the angel was already gone.

xXx

In the thick flurry, Castiel searched for the Winchester brothers. A human would have gotten hopelessly lost, incapable of seeing much through the swirling mass of snow. Flying at a speed that made it appear to others as if he teleported, simply appearing at his destination, Castiel could cover a lot of ground as he flew in a spiral fashion around the cabin. Ultimately, his angel senses picked up on the alpha's trail when he reached the forest's boundary.

Consequently, Castiel found the Nachzehrer's body out on the frozen lake. Knowing that it was not wise to leave it for anybody to find, Castiel picked up the body to take it back to the cabin. His arrival startled everyone, especially given the corpse he carried.

“Castiel!” Jody called out indignantly and vigorously strode up to him. Taking him by the arm before he could drop the body, she steered him to the door. “Here,” she declared, putting her car keys on the creature's stomach. “Stash her in the trunk or something. Just take her out of here! Now!”

When his puzzlement kept him from reacting, she opened the door and shoved him out into the storm that began to rage stronger again.

So Castiel crossed over to where the sheriff's jeep parked and found only a mound of snow. Frowning, he put the body down and lifted a hand to will the drift away. As if a huge hand wiped over it, the mass of snow swept off the vehicle, Castiel opened the trunk and put the body in quickly.

With a flap of his wings, he returned to the lake. Standing on the spot where he found the alpha, Castiel contemplated, in which direction the brothers might have turned.

Of course, it made the most sense to walk back to the bank, but had they been able to determine where they had to go?

“Dean!”

Pausing to listen, he strained his ears but heard nothing but the howling wind.

“Sam!”

Once more, he strained his ears.

Nothing.

Taking flight, Castiel resumed his search.

Being an angel, flying fast was not his only ability. To him, the short moment he needed to spiral out from where he found the alpha appeared much longer. As a result, Castiel could scan the forest thoroughly for any sign of the missing hunters. What he could not change was the ever-thickening snow flurry that forced him to fly close to the ground. Otherwise, not even the angel could see enough to try and detect any trail.

Where are you?

Concern tightened Castiel's chest.

They cannot have gone too far in that blizzard. I need to locate them fast or they will freeze to death.

Approaching the bank, he heard a prayer within his mind.

Sam!

Slowing down to hover over the edge of the lake, Castiel felt the storm catch in his wings, making it hard to stay above a certain spot. His angel senses allowed him to find a trail beneath the snow where the brothers had clambered off the ice. Fighting against the wind, Castiel managed to land there. At once, the sensation became stronger.

By foot, the angel traced the path Dean and Sam had taken.

'Cass, I know you can't fly, but... we're lost. If you know any other way to get out here... we could really do with your help right now.'

Right! He does not know about the grace Amara bestowed on me. Hold out, Sam! I am on my way!

Unfortunately, prayer only worked in one direction and Sam could not hear him.

If Amara wants to repay Dean for what he has done for her, she should mark him and Sam in a way that allows me, and only me, to find them.

Sighing inwardly, he plowed through the snow drifts. Now he could sense the brothers more strongly. They had to be close by. All he could see were snow-covered trees and thick snowflakes that would rob everyone but the angel of his breath.

“Sam!”

xXx

“Dean?” Sam murmured, nudging his brother's cheek.

With trepidation, the younger Winchester noted that Dean did not respond. Apparently passed out, he leaned against Sam who would have panicked if he could not feel his sibling's regular breathing. Holding him close with both their coats zipped up together, he could sense the rise and fall of Dean's chest against his own body.

Sam had been joyed to find his own scarf where he had stuffed it into the sleeve of his coat when he had hung it up in the cabin. Doing his best to protect his brother from the icy cold, he had pulled the fur-lined collar up and wrapped the scarf around Dean's neck and head, only leaving his nose and eyes out.

At least we're protected from the storm. In the wind, the felt temperature is even lower. Maybe I'm mistaken, but I think it's less cold in here now.

Still, chilliness seeped into him from below. His jeans did not much to protect him from the cold soil they were resting on. Roots made the seat uncomfortable. Both were small downsides compared to being exposed to the blizzard.

“Cass, I know you can't fly but... we're lost,” he muttered the prayer to himself. Hugging Dean even closer, he went on, “If you know any other way to get out here... we could really do with your help right now.”

Taking comfort in his brother's closeness, Sam rested his cheek on top of Dean's head. How much did he wish he could sleep. It had to be in the early morning by now. Why did they not try to get some rest when they were at the cabin? They could have stood guard in turns.

Yawning, Sam fought his tiredness. As long as he sensed Dean breathe, it was alright that his brother slept, but they could not afford that he dozed off as well. In sleep, they could both freeze to death without regaining consciousness before.

“Sam!”

At first, Sam believed to have misheard. The snowdrift covering the tree they took shelter under muffled every sound, even drowning out the howl of the storm. So Sam really was not sure whether he actually had heard something. Only when the shout was repeated, he lifted his head to listen intently.

Yes, there it is again.

“Hello?!” he yelled back. “We're here!”

Feeling Dean stir, he turned to his brother. Despite his shouting, Dean did not wake.

“Sam!”

The soft yet gravelly sound made Sam look around to see...

“Cass!”

“I am so glad to see you,” the angel stated with undisguised relief. Concern darkened his blue eyes as he took in Dean's unconscious form. “How is he? How are you, Sam?”

“We're... Cass, how did you...? I mean...”

“In order to comprise an otherwise lengthy explanation,” Castiel muttered, reaching out for the brothers with both hands and resting his palms on their foreheads.

Sam wanted to respond, but before he could do as much as open his mouth, he felt a quickly passing nauseousness. All of a sudden, the support of the tree trunk was gone. Instead, there were steadying hands, and when he opened his eyes...

“Cass! Are we back?”

“At Jody's house,” Castiel replied, squatting beside them and grabbing the zipper of the combined coats to undo it.

Recognizing the office and the guest bed, Sam stammered, “But how...?”

“Amara,” Castiel cut his question short. “Help me, please. I know that Dean would certainly dislike me using my mojo to undress him and we need to warm him up.” Glancing at Sam, he added, “You as well.”

“So you... got your wings back?” Sam hedged. Using his teeth, he tried to remove his gloves. Strangely, he felt even colder than before, his stiff fingers unable to assist the angel in freeing Dean from his clothes. All he managed was to awkwardly push away his own coat. Aside from that, he could only watch and shudder with cold.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Castiel murmured, fully concentrated on the hunter in his arms. Upon discovering the wound, he laid his hand on Dean's thigh and called on his grace to heal him. Shifting his gaze to Sam who sat slumped over, hugging himself and shuddering violently, Castiel reached out for him as well.

Closing his eyes, Sam relished the sensation that coursed through him. Castiel's healing touch did not chase the whole cold away, but it restored his feeling in hands and feet and his ability to function.

“Thanks, Cass.”

“Don't mention it,” the angel replied, focused on Dean again. Examining him closer, he discovered frostbitten hands and feet and beginning pneumonia. Directing his grace at him again, he healed those up as well.

It did not take long until the older Winchester stirred.

“Cass?”

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel replied in a voice that was an unusually deep rumble, even for him. “Let us get you in bed.”

For a long moment, nothing happened except Castiel taking Dean around the shoulders and under his knees, but when the hunter caught on to his exposed condition and to what Castiel said, he called out with shock.

“What?!”

The sudden outcry made the angel falter with astonishment because it sounded panicked. Dean's green eyes bore into him with suspicion.

“Cass, am I naked?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied honestly, not seeing the problem at all.

“Why the fuck am I naked?!”

Unimpressed, the angel answered, “We needed to get you out of your clothes. They are frozen stiff.”

“C'mon, bro,” Sam chimed in, pushing the covers back so Castiel could lower Dean onto the mattress, “I'll be with you in a moment.”

Still scowling, Dean allowed the angel to tuck him in. Watching Sam leave the room, he asked, “How did you find us?”

“Sam prayed to me,” Castiel answered truthfully. “I was already searching the area after Jody told me that the alpha took you, but it was Sam who led me to you.”

Now that he was more alert, Dean could see that he misunderstood the angel's intention and smiled up at him. “It's good to see you.”

Returning the smile, Castiel stated, “It was a good idea of Sam to crawl under the tree for protection.”

Dean sighed.

“Yeah. Billie said the same.”

“Billie? As in the reaper Billie?” Castiel queried with rekindled anxiety.

“Yeah,” Dean groused. “But apparently, she only stopped by to tell us that she wasn't there for us.”

The door opened and Sam reappeared, both girls in tow and a grain pillow in hand.

“Here,” he said as he crossed over to the bed and pulled the covers up just long enough to shove the pillow in. “That's better, right?”

“That's friggin' hot!” Dean cried out.

Sam laughed.

“What's so funny?” his brother complained.

“It's good to hear you curse,” Sam explained. “That means you're alive.”

Still scowling, Dean sank back in the pillows. To be honest, it was good to feel some warmth seep back into his body.

“Castiel? Where's Jody?” Claire asked.

“The sheriff is alright,” the angel told her. “She still is on the job. I will go and help her wrap the case up as soon as these two here are settled.”

“Okay,” Alex sighed a breath of relief. Directing her question to the hunters, she asked, “Do you need anything? More blankets? Food? Something warm to drink?”

“Tea and water will be fine,” Castiel declared.

“Hey! I'd rather have some whiskey,” Dean complained.

Turning his head to shoo the girls away to do as he asked, the angel stated impassively, “I am aware that you would prefer strong liqueur, but in your condition alcohol is not advisable.”

“Didn't you heal me?”

“I did,” Castiel confirmed flatly, “You still need warmth and a good night's rest, as well as sufficient fluids.”

“Why, don't you sound like a doctor!” Sam chuckled, shedding his t-shirt. Then he removed his jeans and crawled under the blankets.

“Sammy, you're frigid,” Dean gasped when his brother accidentally touched him.

“And you're not?” Sam shot back. “By a hair's breadth, we both would've ended up as snow sculptures.”

“Nobody wants to see that,” Dean groused.

Quirking a brow, Castiel followed the exchange. To him, the banter was music in his ears. A light knock on the open door made them all look over to Claire.

“I took the liberty to prepare something else,” she said and crossed over to the bed, two huge, steaming mugs in hand. Seeing the hunters eye the drinks suspiciously, she smirked, “I'm sure you'll like it.”

Curious, Dean scooted back to lean against the headboard and Sam followed his example. When Dean took the offered mug, he could not help but quirk a skeptic brow at it.

“Hot cocoa with marshmallows... awesome.”

“Thanks, Claire,” Sam said as he accepted his own mug from her.

None of them noticed the angel's deep scowl, but their noses told them that Claire had spiked the drinks with a dash of liqueur. Smiling at each other, the brothers clanked their mugs together and took a first sip.

“Claire...”

“I'll get you the water now,” she declared and headed out instead of waiting for whatever Castiel had to say.

Of course, the angel followed her., but not without looking back at his charges and see them happily nurse their respective cocoas. When Castiel entered the hallway, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the unexpected newcomer.

“Hello, brother.”

tbc..

Chapter Text

“Gabriel.”

To say that Castiel was astonished was an understatement. For all they knew, Gabriel was dead. To see the archangel now, leaning nonchalantly against the wall of the hallway, was as unexpected as it was extraordinary.

“The one and only,” Gabriel smirked, pointing at his younger brother, “I never thought you to be that scheming.”

“Actually, that is your domain, brother.”

“Touché...” Gabriel drawled, making a throwing gesture as if to dismiss the fact, “You're more the strategist, though. So what are you up to?”

“You already know,” Castiel growled, “or you would not be asking.”

“I do,” Gabriel grinned lopsidedly, “And if I had not been indispensable until recently, I'd be offended that I'm not invited to your little holiday conspiracy.”

Of course, Castiel did not take the bait.

“Indispensable?”

“Yeah...” Gabriel somewhat squirmed under his brother's scrutinizing gaze. The archangel sure did not want to explain himself. “I was... indisposed, so to speak.” Forcing a grin that could not fool his younger sibling, he cheerfully stated, “But I'm here now, so what's your plan, Cassie?" Gabriel wanted to know.

"For now, I have to go and help Jody," Castiel replied. "Could you keep an eye on the house while I'm gone?"

"Do I look like a guard dog?" Gabriel scoffed.

"What do your looks have to do with your capability of keeping the house safe?"

"Oh, little brother, you really need to work on your social skills," the archangel chuckled. "Yes, I'll stay. Do what you've got to do and be back as soon as possible."

"Shouldn't take long," Castiel remarked, "with my wings restored."

"Yep," Gabriel smirked, tapping two fingers at the back of his head to indicate his angel radio, "Aunt Amara let me know."

"She seems to be busy these days."

"Well, she was gone for very long. Sure has got to make up for lost time."

"Anyway, brother. Thank you." Before he left, though, Castiel once more returned to the brothers' room.

Stepping up beside their bed, he fondly asked, "How are you?"

"Better," Dean replied. "Almost warm again."

"Good." Skeptically, Castiel looked at the empty cocoa mugs.

"It wasn't much," Sam answered the angel's unspoken question about the hard liquor. "We're fine. Thank you."

"You should rest," Castiel told them. "I'll help wrap up the case."

"Right! Jody!"

Reminded of the sheriff who still was stuck in the blizzard, Dean already pushed back the covers to get up and help her.

"No, Dean," Castiel insisted, pushing him back down with a hand on his shoulder. "You need to rest. I'll take care of everything."

"But, Cass..."

The angel was having none of it, tucking him back in and lightly brushing his hand over the hunter's forehead. Dean closed his eyes and was asleep.

"Cass?"

Sam's confusion was understandable but irrelevant as Castiel sent him to sleep with a gentle touch.

For a long moment, the angel stood and watched the brothers sleep. Then, he was gone with a flap of his restored wings.

xXx

Dean woke to comfortable warmth and Sam's scent in his nose. When he opened his eyes, his brother lay close beside him, sprawled out prone and a pillow bunched up between his arm and head. In a way, he was a mirror image to Dean who still snuggled under the blankets and into his own pillow.

With a contented sigh, Dean relaxed and was about to go back to sleep when he felt a tingling at the back of his mind. It was the tell-tale sensation of somebody watching. Instantly, he suspected that Castiel was once more sitting or standing beside their bed and watching over them. Over the years, Dean had managed to teach him the meaning of personal space, but observing them sleep was a habit he could not break.

Torn between ignoring the angel or telling him off, Dean studied his brother's face instead, catching himself doing just the same. Groaning at his own failure, Dean stretched and turned around on his other side, intend on going back to sleep. Noticing a figure astride a chair right next to the bed stopped him.

“Hello, bitches.”

There was no mistaking the naughty welcome or the flaming red hair.

“Charlie?” Dean blurted out, sitting up. “Am I dreaming or dead?”

“Neither one nor the other,” she replied with that infectious grin of hers.

“But...”

“I was just waiting here,” she snickered as she got up from her seat. “You should wake Sam, get up and dressed. I'll let the others know that you'll join us soon.”

“The others?” Dean muttered at her retreating back. Quickly, she was out the door, leaving him to wonder whether her appearance had been real or just a dream. From somewhere else in the house, he heard indistinct murmur and other sounds of activity. Delicious scents wafted into the room.

Right, it's Christmas.

Prodding his brother's side, he woke Sam.

“What's up?”

“I was told we should get up,” Dean let him know, glancing at the clock above the door. Almost six. For just a second, he was confused. “Um, I take it it's early evening already.”

“You mean, we could just stay in bed until morning?” Sam chuckled softly.

“Do you smell that? I bet Jody cooked a Christmas turkey.”

Sam smiled at Dean with a fond memory, “I once had a real, whole turkey. For Thanksgiving.”

“I remember from your Heaven,” Dean sighed. “You were with your foster family.”

A pang of sadness hit him when he wondered for just a moment if it would not have been better for Sam if he had stayed with said family. He could have had a normal childhood, gone to school, graduated from college, become a lawyer. Sam could have lived the life he deserved. Instead, he had gone to Hell and back just like Dean had. Maybe worse.

“Hello?” Clicking his fingers in front of his eyes, Sam tried to catch his brother's attention. “Where are you with your thoughts?”

“Huh?” Shaking his musings off, Dean replied, “Far away, Sammy. Dwelling on the past.”

“We should get ready,” Sam suggested. “We don't want to keep Jody waiting.”

“Nope,” Dean agreed. “Because then we'd have a very disgruntled sheriff on our hands.”

“Not just the sheriff.”

Both brothers startled, looking at each other with surprise before they turned to the door. There, leaning against the doorcase, was someone they believed to be dead.

“Gabriel!” Sam called out, pushing the duvet back and standing in the bed. Climbing over his brother, he got down and crossed over to the archangel only to stop in his tracks right in front of him, uncertain about what to do as a welcoming hug seemed too informal. “Is that really you?”

“No tricking this time, Samshine,” Gabriel assured him, pulling him into a one-arm hug. “I'm real.”

“Where have you been?” Sam queried anxiously.

“Indisposed.”

Sam waited, but apparently, that was all the archangel was prepared to share.

“Well, you can tell us later.”

“How about never?” Gabriel shot back. “I didn't tell Cassie either.”

“We thought you were dead,” Dean stated as he pushed the duvet back and sat up on the edge of the bed.

“Well, at first, that's exactly what I wanted,” Gabriel shrugged, but then his mischievous grin faded, “Then... I wished you knew I survived.”

Sam had a bad feeling about this.

“So... where have you been?” he asked, “And when did you come back?”

Glowering at the prodding Winchester, Gabriel let go of him and took a step back.

“None of your business,” he replied evasively.

“So bad, huh?” Dean teased, but the look in his green eyes betrayed his flippant remark.

For a long moment, Gabriel held his gaze before he avoided it by casting his eyes down.

“Yeah, so bad,” he admitted. “Dad and aunt Amara took me in for a while. Actually, she's the one who told me I should come to visit tonight.”

“Amara.”

The brothers shared a suspicious look.

“Do you happen to know what she's up to?” Dean asked cautiously.

“No,” Gabriel shook his head, “but no worries, Deano. I'm sure her intentions are good.”

“Yeah,” Sam scoffed, “Just like sending the trickster.”

“Oh, c'mon, Samshine,” the archangel complained, “You aren't still holding a grudge about my killing Dean over and over again?”

“Well, actually, Dean should be your bigger concern there,” Sam dryly came back.

“I didn't take you for so resentful!” Gabriel groused. “I mean, glasshouses and so on...”

Now it was Dean's turn to scowl at the archangel. Then he noticed something that piqued his attention in a different way, and that was how Sam eyed the trickster intently. Also, whenever he thought Sam was not looking his way, Gabriel did the same with Sam.

Startled, Dean dug into his duffel to get out fresh clothes and hurried out to the bathroom.

“What have I done now?” Gabriel moaned, rolling his eyes.

“Nothing, Gabe,” Sam assured him. “Dean's just being... Dean.”

“Okay...”

Once more giving Sam a once over, Gabriel asked, “And what about you, Samshine? Am I detecting interest there?”

At that, Sam was certain that he blushed violently if the heat in his cheeks was any indication.

Gabriel smirked.

Threading a hand in the hunter's long hair, he encouraged him to let him close. As the archangel leaned in for him, though, he had to stretch and pull Sam a little down so their lips could even meet. When they did, it sent sparks of joy and confusion through the younger Winchester. Stunned, he did not reciprocate at first, but then he tentatively kissed back.

“Promising,” Gabriel murmured when he finally backed off. “And don't look so freaked out, Samantha. You know all angels are genderless.”

All Sam could do was gape.

xXx

“I have a weird feeling about this,” Dean muttered as he shrugged into his green shirt. “Remember how insistent Cass was about going to Sioux Falls in the first place?”

“He was concerned about Claire.”

“You really believe that, Sam?” Dean challenged. “I bet Jody's in on it... if it wasn't actually her idea in the first place.”

“How so?”

“I don't know, Sam,” he groaned. “She's a better actor than Cass after all. But remember what she said at the cabin?”

“No,” Sam mused, trying to recall what Dean meant. “She's said a lot of things.”

“Arthur Nolan,” Dean reminded him, “Jody said he was supposed to be at his sister's in Wichita, not bitten by a monster in Sioux Falls.”

“So?”

“So... so Jody pretended he was missing? Made up a case to get us here?” Seeing Sam about to object, he argued, “Seriously, there also were inconsistencies in the reports she showed us. The sheriff seemed pretty stunned when we figured out that we actually had a case. ”

Sam scoffed. “If she did... and I'm not saying I believe she did... then I'm sure she had a pretty good reason.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sam insisted, “because seriously, Dean. If she would've called and just invited us for Christmas, would you have gone?”

For a second, Dean just stared at his brother incredulously before he admitted, “Probably not. What about you?”

“Not without you,” Sam declared.

With a sigh, Dean leaned against the sideboard. Grimacing at his brother, he asked, “You think they screwed us over?”

“For our own good?” Sam came back dryly. “Yeah, I think that's what they did. The hunt was coincidental.”

“We almost froze to death,” Dean groused.

“True, but we were meant to be here, having eggnog, I bet.”

Snorting with displeasure, Dean tried to deal with his brother's apparent cheerfulness. Somehow, Sam seemed to take all this in stride which was disconcerting. After everything they had been through, Dean would have thought that his sibling would be more cautious and suspicious.

“And what about Charlie?” he pushed. “She's dead, Sam. Cass can't have pulled that one off.”

Thoughtfully, Sam scratched the back of his neck.

“He said that it was Amara who gave him back his wings,” he finally replied. “Apparently, she had her hands in Gabriel's return as well. Maybe she's also brought Charlie back.”

“Why?” Dean shot back heatedly. “Why should she do that?”

“I don't know, dude. Good things do happen.”

“Not to me.”

The return came so promptly that Dean had to be truly convinced of it which took Sam totally aback. Stepping up to his brother, he gently put his hands on his shoulders.

“You don't mean that, do you?”

Looking up at Sam, Dean's eyes shone with unshed tears. His gaze became unsteady, drifted away from his brother and he tried to turn aside as well.

“Hey,” Sam insisted. “Look at me, bro. You're not serious about that, are you?”

Dean squirmed, still avoiding to face Sam.

“Nah...” he drawled, only to take it back, “Yes... I don't know.”

Sam was still wracking his mind about how to reply when the doorbell rang. Excited voices and bouncing footsteps echoed down the hall. Then they heard Claire welcome whoever arrived on their threshold and urging somebody inside. Judging by the excited voices, the others greeted the newcomer warmly.

“We should go and meet them,” Sam stated, nudging his brother's shoulder. “C'mon.”

Unwillingly, Dean followed him to the living room where the others had already gathered in the sitting area, some lounging on the sofa, others standing beside the coffee table. When the brothers entered everyone looked around at them.

“Hello, guys.”

Perplexed, both Winchesters looked at the newcomer, his lanky form clad in jeans, quilted vest, and baseball cap. They knew only one guy who ran around like that.

“Garth!”

Sam stepped forward first, accepting the hug in which the younger man wrapped him up instantly. His brother reacted more reluctantly but still did not avoid the embrace which was a good sign.

“Sam. Dean,” Garth's wife Bess greeted, shyly extending her hand. “It's nice to see you again.”

“Same to you, Bess,” Sam declared.

“See? It was a good idea to invite them,” Claire threw in.

“Still takes some getting used to,” Jody shrugged. “You, being a werewolf. I hope you don't take that personal, Garth.”

“Actually, it's somewhat weird being here among so many hunters,” Garth replied, taking Bess' hand as she scooted closer to him. “Still, thanks for the invitation.”

“I still can't believe you're here,” Sam said. “It's been too long since we've met. How are things going for you?”

As they spoke, Sam, Garth, and Bess wandered over to the dining table, sitting down there while Alex provided each of them with a glass of eggnog. Still standing in the middle of the room, Dean felt surprisingly awkward despite being in the company of good friends. Actually, he liked to think of most of them as family.

“Smile for me,” Charlie's cheerful voice startled him.

Dutifully, Dean forced his lips into a small smile.

“Not quite convincing yet, but I'll accept it as a good start,” Charlie said with a wink. “Beer or eggnog?”

“Beer,” Dean replied, grateful that at least that decision came easily.

“What's wrong, Dean?” Charlie prodded as she stepped up to the cupboard where the beverages were arranged. She uncapped a beer and pushed the bottle in his hand. “Is it because I'm back?”

“No, Charlie,” he sighed, “No, it's good to see you. C'mere.”

Wrapping her up in a tight embrace, Dean reveled in her warmth and the scent of her hair. Closing his eyes, he lost himself in her hugging him back enthusiastically. Before he knew it, a single tear trickled down his cheek.

“I love you, little sis,” he murmured close to her ear.

“Love you, too, Dean,” Charlie replied, also sounding a little choked up. “Come, let's cuddle on the couch.”

“Cuddle?” he scoffed.

“Yeah,” she smirked at him, taking his arm and dragging him to the sofa. “Even big boys are allowed to cuddle. C'mon.”

Laughing softly, he let himself be maneuvered down in the cushions. Charlie dropped into the seat beside him, shifting close, and leaning her head on his shoulder. Putting his right arm around her slender form, Dean held her against him. Inside, his emotions were coming to a boil. Though he felt grateful to Amara for bringing Charlie back into his life, he could not help but suspect a ploy. God's sister was up to something and he was pretty sure that it would not be good. That's what his gut told him anyway, and so far, he could always rely on it.

Well, mostly.

Sipping at his beer, he furtively studied the others who sat or stood talking until he noticed someone was missing.

“Where's Cass?”

“He said he needed to pick somebody up,” Gabriel supplied. “I'm sure he'll be right back.”

Scowling to himself, Dean accepted that information. Right then, the doorbell rang and he reflexively stood, reaching for his weapon that he did not carry.

“Hey, there! Easy, cowboy,” Jody chided, heading for the door. “First, let me check who's there. If they're dangerous, I'll shoot them myself.”

Accepting her words, Dean still followed her into the hallway. For a second, he felt as if he had never seen the place before. Glancing sideways, he noticed that the hallway was longer than it had been when he came from Jody's office.

“What the fuck?”

Confused, Dean was about to go and retrieve his weapons when the voice answering Jody at the door piqued his attention.

“Kevin?”

Too stunned to think about his actions, Dean shoved the sheriff aside as he strode up to the door, staring at the young man of Asian descent who had died on his watch, killed by Gadreel who had possessed Sam back then.

Finding support on the door jamb, effectively blocking the entrance, Dean stood and could not make up his mind about what to do next.

“I didn't allow God's sister to bring me here so I could freeze on your threshold,” Kevin muttered.

Dean felt shoved from behind and stumbled out into the cold. It was already dark again and thick snowflakes were softly tumbling down.

“Come on in,” Jody told him and Kevin followed her inviting gesture, pausing just inside the door to turn to the hunter.

“Dean. No need for you to freeze either.”

Shaking off his rigor, Dean made two quick strides forward and briefly hugged the prophet.

“Kevin, wow. I can't believe you're here. You said something about Amara. Do you know what's going on?”

“She just told me she wanted to bring me back to life,” Kevin replied. “I disagreed and we compromised.”

“Compromised?” Dean prodded. “What do you mean? Are you going back?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't belong here anymore, Dean,” Kevin explained. “I know that now. I agreed to come and spend the holidays with you and Sam. Then I'll go back to Heaven.”

“But...”

As nobody had bothered to close the door, all three of them heard and saw the car pulling up in the driveway. Due to the headlights, they could not make out who was driving. When the engine was killed and the driver alighted from the old Pontiac, Dean's jaw dropped. First, he did not want to believe it, but nothing, from the boots over jeans to sweater and baseball cap, could deny who they belonged to. Meeting the sparkling eyes in the weathered, bearded face of the older hunter, Dean tonelessly muttered, “Bobby.”

Then he darted forward, throwing himself into the older man's embrace.

“'tis good to see ya, boy,” Bobby groaned, choked by the Winchester's hold on him.

Dean hardly heard him. He also did not pay attention to the other two figures getting out of the vehicle. All his suspicions were momentarily forgotten. Right at that moment, Dean just marveled at holding his surrogate father in his arms and feeling him hug back. He did not even feel the cold.

“What's up?”

Sam's voice finally made Dean look back over his shoulder. Eyes wide with wonder, he mouthed and gestured at his brother what he could see himself. A second later, his younger sibling barreled into them, throwing his arms around the grizzled hunter.

“Bobby!”

“You're squeezing me, you idjits,” Bobby groaned through clenched teeth but tightened his own hold on them even more. Sensing them quiver, he let go and took a step back, demanding, “Let me look at you, boys. Apparently, you're doing great. Except for the cold that is. Inside, everyone!” With that, he waved at the other two who came with him and it was only then that the brothers noticed two women they also did not expect to see.

“He's right,” Ellen sternly ushered them on, “Let's get inside first.”

Taking each of the Winchesters by an arm, she marched to the front door and pushed them through. Then she let Jo and Bobby pass before she followed and shoved the entry closed just a second before she got tangled in the boys' arms, both hugging her enthusiastically. Sam also pulled Jo into their embrace.

“I still can't believe it,” Sam muttered. “What's happened?”

“That's what I'd love to know, too,” Bobby groused. “One minute, I slouched in my armchair in heaven, reading a book and minding my own business, when that woman walked in and told me that I was to be a gift.”

“Amara,” both brothers announced, letting go of the women.

“Actually, she didn't introduce herself,” Bobby all but grunted. “Just asked how I felt about spending a couple more years with you, hunting, or whatever. Well...”

“Amara's God's sister,” Sam explained. “She was released from her prison when we removed the Mark of Cain off Dean.”

“Whoosh?” Kevin made in unison with the respective gesture over his head.

“Long story,” Dean warded off, “My demon days are long over.”

“You've been a demon?” Jo blurted.

“Yeah.”

“How about we take discussions of any kind to the living room?” Jody suggested to the whole gathering. “Instead of standing in the hallway. C'mon. Warm yourselves up, have a drink... the turkey will soon be done. Girls, how about giving me a hand?”

As if on cue, the flutter of wings startled everyone but Gabriel. Recognizing Castiel, Claire and Alex went with Jody to the kitchen. The others kept their attention on the angel, especially as he did not come alone.

While Sam paused reluctantly, Dean stared for a second incredulously before he charged at the newcomer with a joyous grin all over his face.

“Hey, brother,” Benny muttered, returning the bear hug Dean wrapped him up in just as fiercely.

“Benny,” Dean all but sobbed. “How did you get out of Purgatory?”

“Wait,” Sam cut in, “Let me guess: a tall, dark-haired woman in a black dress?”

“Yeah,” Benny confirmed. “How'd you know?”

“Let's say, you're not the first she visited,” Dean replied, taking a step back, but still keeping a hold on the shoulders of his friend whom he had relied on during his year trapped in the monsters' afterlife.

“She must be an extraordinary being,” Benny stated. “I told her why I should stay and... well, she made me an offer I could not refuse.”

“What kind of offer?” Dean asked, suddenly uneasy. Maybe Amara did have an agenda after all.

Instead of an answer, Benny reached up to his face and pulled his upper lip back to show his teeth.

Scowling, Dean took a closer look. Then his eyes widened in surprise.

“She made you human?”

“Yes.”

Stunned, the former vampire watched mixed emotions play across the hunter's features.

“C'mon, Dean. That's awesome. I'll get to live a real life.” His gaze drifted to Sam. “I'm not a threat anymore. No need for anyone to hunt me down.”

“But still,” Dean muttered, studying his friend intently. “It's been a part of you for so long.”

“I can do very well without sucking on blood bags,” Benny scoffed. “Actually, I've heard something about a turkey? Sounds delicious.” Sniffing, he added, “Smells delicious.”

“Right,” Dean laughed. “It's Christmas day.”

“Exactly,” Castiel threw in. “Which is the reason why Amara chose this day to present you with her gesture of gratefulness.”

“She's grateful?” Dean muttered.

“Of course,” Castiel returned, cocking his head to the side, giving his charge that look he usually got when he did not understand. “You set her free. You reunited her with her brother. You gave her back her family.”

“She told me so before she left with Chuck,” Dean mused aloud, “but... I didn't think... I don't know what I thought. This is...” Looking around at all their friends gathered around them in the relatively small space of the hallway, he shook his head incredulously. A grin cracking his features, he went on, “awesome... and unbelievable, and...”

“Dean,” Sam murmured, leaning toward him, “I think I know why Billie was so pissed.”

“Yeah,” Dean beamed, locking his gaze with Charlie who grinned right back. “Because Amara is awesome.”

Dean did not care that tears of joy ran down his cheeks. Still holding Benny, he put one arm around his brother's shoulders. The Darkness found the light within herself and gave him back the people he called family in exchange for him reuniting her with her relatives. Despite seeing them all right with him, he still could hardly believe it was true. For the first time in a long time, or more likely ever, Dean felt happy.

“Yeah, I know,” Sam murmured, squeezing his brother's upper arm. “It's hard to believe. It's a miracle.”

“It's a gift,” Dean told him with conviction. “Let's celebrate. Merry Christmas, everyone.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Castiel calmly hushed close to his ear.

Craning his neck, Dean looked at his best friend. Somehow, the angel seemed to glow tonight, almost as if his grace was giving off a shine. Maybe that was because he had his wings back. Dean was so happy for his angel. Part of him wished he could touch those wings, let his fingers run through the flight feathers and hear Cass moan with pleasure.

Shocked by his own thought, Dean pushed it away and joined the others that began to move back to the living room. Upon entering, though, everyone paused at finding just another newcomer to be present.

Lounging in the chair at the head of the table, a glass of scotch in hand and a smug smile on his lips, was the King of Hell.

“Hello, kids,” he greeted jovially. “Am I in time for the roast?”

“Crowley,” Sam uttered, almost making it sound like a curse.

“Dear Moose,” Crowley chided, “And here I thought you'd be happy to see me.”

Stepping up in front of the group of humans, Gabriel snarled, “And here I thought a self-respecting demon like you would avoid Christmas like the pest.”

“My dear Archangel,” Crowley replied, sipping at his scotch, “A pagan holiday usurped by the Christians? What's not to love?” Lifting his glass he toasted, “To Moose and Squirrel who once more saved the day.”

“So what?” Dean spat, “You're just here for the scotch?”

Holding up his tumbler to look at the swirling liquid, Crowley smirked, “And the turkey.” When he turned to the hunter, his gaze fell past him on the seraph and his eyes widened, “Oh, Feathers! You're looking marvelous all plumed up. Seeing you and all the others here, I think my foster daughter must have had a field day.”

“She's not your foster daughter,” Castiel hissed back.

“Easy there, Feathers,” Crowley soothed. “I'm sure Amara wouldn't mind. She's lived with me for a while after all. She's called me uncle, as a matter of fact.”

Snorting, Castiel stepped forward with the intention to argue, but then he paused. Glowering at the demon, he let him be.

“What about you, kids?” Crowley prodded, making an inviting gesture at the dining table. “You want to eat standing in the entrance?”

“Certainly not,” Jody declared, stepping up right next to the King of Hell. “Do you intend to cause trouble?”

“Me?” Crowley chuckled innocently. “Not at all. It's Christmas. I'm all for a festive dinner with my friends.” With his latter words, he smirked at the Winchester brothers again. “Dean, my bestie, you believe me, don't you?”

Having everyone's attention focused on him, Dean felt responsibility weigh him down. Thanks, Crowley, for making me the bad guy. Glowering at the King of Hell, he decided.

“Just ignore him, guys. He's an attention-whore, so he'll leave when we don't pay attention to his antics.”

“Squirrel! Why so hostile?” Crowley chuckled. “I'm as tame as a kitten, and if push comes to shove, you'll still have your archangel. Right, Gabriel?”

“Crowley,” Dean groused, waiting until the demon faced him, “Can it.”

Opening his mouth to argue, Crowley froze at the death glare the hunter shot at him. Smiling jovially, he just gestured at the chairs around the table.

“Well, then,” Jody said. “Take a seat everyone. Do you all have enough to drink?”

“Yes, Jody, we're good,” Sam replied as he sat down to Crowley's right.

“I've got my beer,” Dean stated, taking the seat to Crowley's left. “Charlie?”

“Oh, no,” she rushed to say, shoving somebody else in his direction. “You've got to sit with Castiel.”

“I don't have to sit next to Dean,” Castiel stated with confusion.

“Right,” Dean agreed.

“But his brother's sitting right opposite as well,” Charlie said, maneuvering Castiel into the seat and dropping down in the chair beside him. “I'm good here. And we can still talk, right?”

“Right,” Dean sighed, though he felt strangely gleeful to be so close to his angel.

“You're both idjits,” Bobby groused as he sat at the other end of the table. “But it's your kind of crazy, and we all love you just like you are.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Sam chuckled.

“We love you, too,” Dean replied, happily watching everyone else sitting down as well.

Then Jody and Claire came in with the first bowls. At once, Jo and Ellen jumped back to their feet to go and help them. Quickly, they brought all the sides to the table. Baked potatoes and dumplings along with gravy, red cabbage, Brussels sprouts, and green beans wrapped in bacon, cooked pears and cranberry sauce made the table bend even before they presented the perfectly browned turkey.

Rising from his seat, Crowley gave everyone pause.

“Allow me to carve the bird?” he asked, holding out his hand to receive the knife.

Jody hesitated before handing it to him.

“Thank you, lovely sheriff,” the King of Hell smiled. “Now, who'd like a piece of the drumstick?”

The End

Chapter Text

Epilogue

Way after midnight, Sam finally excused himself and headed to bed, leaving Dean and Castiel to be the only ones left in the living room. Encouraged by his big brother, the seraph had shed his suit jacket and tie. Now he leaned in the corner of the couch, Dean resting against him, his legs pulled up on the seat. The hunter idly played with his tumbler before he downed the rest of his scotch. They sat like this for quite a while and Castiel began to feel comfortable.

“I'd love to see them, you know,” Dean suddenly said with a hint of jealousy.

“What do you mean?”

“Your wings,” Dean sighed. “Crowley could see them, right? He called you all plumed up.”

Quirking a brow, Castiel had to admit he was right.

“Yes, Dean. He can perceive my angelic grace just like I can perceive that he's a demon.”

Dean sighed.

“I wish I could see your true form. I'd love to know what you really look like.”

“Believe me, it's not as spectacular as you seem to think,” Castiel softly told him, strangely finding his hand trail from the backrest to Dean's shoulder.

“Maybe not for angels,” Dean shrugged which pushed him against Castiel. Somehow he liked that. “I get, though, why you don't want to burn my eyes out. Actually, I like my eyes. I want to keep them.”

“Good.”

Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Dean prodded, “I'm still overwhelmed by what Amara did. She... well, she said she wanted to give me something akin to what I did for her. I suspected it was about my family. Dad. Or mom. But...” fighting a lump in his throat, Dean confessed, “she gave me the people I call family. All the friends who fought and bled with us. It's more than I could ever hope for. More... more than I deserve.”

“You deserve all the happiness in the world, Dean Winchester,” Castiel earnestly told him.

Dean chuckled.

“Cass, did she tell you to tell me that?”

“No,” the seraph replied. “I'm serious. You deserved this gift. Are you happy, Dean?”

Taking a moment to contemplate that, Dean nodded.

“Yes. Yes, I think I am happy.” Coming back to his original subject, he said, “I'd be even happier if I could see your true self. When we've first met, you pulled off that light show and cast the shadows of your wings on the warehouse walls... Why aren't they visible anyway?”

“Well,” the angel murmured, “that's got to do with my current appearance. While I'm in a vessel, my wings are on another pane of existence. You can only see the shadows my grace casts of them.”

“And if you tried to change that, you'd burn my eyes?”

Contemplating the question, Castiel hesitated.

“I never considered trying to align my wings with my vessel,” he finally explained. “I don't know if that's possible. Sure might take an effort.”

Dean sat up, turning around to look at Castiel.

“Are you considering it now?”

“No.”

Huffing, Dean elaborated, “Could you give it a try for me?”

“The consideration or actually attempting it?”

“Cass...”

His long-suffering groan resulted in Castiel doing his head thing, cocking it to the side and giving the hunter that look of utter confusion. Dean groaned all over again with frustration and jumped when the angel stood so suddenly that he could feel a slight draft. Still, he did not intend to stop the seraph from crossing to the space between dining and sitting area. Biting back any comment, Dean tensed expectantly.

The bright shine of Castiel's grace was familiar to him as were the shadows of the wings. Even those were a spectacular sight as they now were fully feathered. Dean felt his mouth go dry, though, when he watched the air around his angel beginning to blur. At first, the effect appeared like that of a mirage. Seeing Castiel close his eyes with the effort, Dean suspected that he would not make it.

Consequently, he was all the more taken aback when he heard the distinct flutter of feathers and two gusts of wind washed over him.

Wide-eyed and gaping, Dean stared at his friend. In his wildest dreams, he could not have imagined what he saw. A couple of times, he tried to speak, but all he managed was a poor imitation of a fish gasping for air on dry land.

“Magnificent,” it finally burst out of him.

Castiel smiled.

To Dean, that smile was the most wonderful thing he ever saw. Aside from the wings that spread from Castiel's back and eluded all his attempts to find words for them.

Magically drawn in, he stepped forward and lifted his hand. For a moment, he hesitated, but as Castiel did not object, he reached out and tried to touch the unearthly wings. Stunned, he found that they felt like actual feathers. So he let his hand run along one of the giant flight feathers. His other hand came up to bury his fingers in the softer, shorter plumage at the top of the wing. Curling his fingers, he ruffled them a little.

Castiel moaned.

Grinning madly, Dean did it again.

“You should stop that,” Castiel hoarsely declared.

“Why?” Dean asked with a mischievous grin, looking around at his angel. Standing so close, he could see fluffy plumage along his neck. Unable to just ignore that fact, he reached out for it and let his fingers run over them.

Castiel closed his eyes.

“Is that good?” Dean teased.

“You really should stop that.”

“You're repeating yourself,” Dean chuckled, once more caressing the feathered neck. Hell, is that sexy!

Startled by his thought, Dean swallowed a lump in his throat.

“I told you, you should stop,” Castiel snarled, the guttural sound far from angry but filled with lust.

All of a sudden, Dean felt himself wrapped in arms and wings, uncertain whether he still stood on solid ground. Not caring, he reached up to curl his fingers in Castiel's hair and pull him into a kiss. Moaning against the angel's lips, Dean reveled in the soft touch, but only when the seraph kissed him back and his world dissolved in fierce emotions.

With the flutter of wings, they both were gone.