Archive of Our Own ^beta

The strong breeze whistled up at Dean from the canyon below, buffeting him as his toes curled over the very lip of the drop. He took a deep, steadying breath before dropping his head to look straight down. Almost 6000 feet below the Colorado River twinkled at him in the dying light of the day. With a deep intake of air he allowed his power to burst forth and manifest into the multiple sets of giant wings that he was finally getting used to. The newest members stretched forward instead of back and tickled at his ears. With an irritated growl he swatted them away from his head.

He hadn’t shown the third set of wings to anyone yet. Too worried about an overreaction. The freak out from the first two sets was bad enough. The massive pair of white wings seemed to have recently outgrown the shimmery blue-black lower set. And now… a smaller, golden pair had appeared at the very top of his shoulder blades. Resting comfortably in the shadow of the whites. Yet another whack-a-do development in his far from normal life. He rolled his shoulders a couple times before blowing a raspberry into the wind.

“Alrighty boys. Let’s do this thing.”

One of the smaller, golden wings flicked forward and he reached across his chest and over his shoulder to high five it. Kind of. It wasn’t like anyone else was around to do it, dammit. And he liked the little gold guys. They seemed to have a personality of their own. He had considered naming them… but that was really stepping over the line into crazy town, you know? Better to deny the urge.

Stretching all six wings as far as they could go, he tipped himself over the ledge and towards the ground… 6000 feet below. It was freefall for a few terrifying seconds before the air currents kicked up and he leveled off at steady glide. Then it was time for a gleeful ‘WHOOP’ that echoed off the rocky walls… and he was flying through the Grand Canyon. It was a constant battle to keep himself balanced in a graceful decent. He had to overcorrect several times to keep from going into a vertical dive or spiraling out of control. But it was all fucking worth it.

There were campers and visitors pretty much everywhere, but he had recently learned how to make himself invisible to people. That, or he would make them see something completely different. Sam called it a glamour… to which Dean had replied that it was time to stop fucking referencing The Craft, already. His younger brother had curled his upper lip at him before stalking away in a huff. Gabriel, however, had cackled in delight and given Dean a thumbs up.

He was pretty sure that was just Gabe sucking up to the potential in-laws, but whatever.

Anyway, “glamour” was as good a word as any, he supposed. Today the campers below would merely see a massive golden eagle soaring through the eons old crevice. He shifted aft to round one of the bends in the canyon. He was getting nearer the ground with each passing second and figured it was a good a time as any to try what he’d originally came to do. With a strained huff of breath, Dean reared all three sets of his wings back and beat them once. The strain on his shoulders was new and interesting… but it didn’t hurt. It felt possible. So he continued to push the wings down against the force of gravity and raise them high above his back in a giant arch.

Damned if he didn’t start gaining altitude. He twisted a little to the left to round another subtle bend and glanced down at the sparkling river below. This had to be one of its widest points… so he took a chance. He tucked the wings in tight to his back and dove deep. The wind was whistling loud in his ears as he rocketed towards the water below. At the very last second he spread his wings wide and beat them as vigorously as he could. His fingers barely skimmed the surface of the water before the effort of his wings lifted him up into the air. Another gleeful cry burst from his lips followed closely by the hysterical giggles of a good adrenaline rush.

“Momma! Look at the pretty angel!!!”

He whipped his head towards the bank of the river and there stood a little girl, couldn’t have been more than four, with wide eyes and an awed look on her face. Dean smiled and waved. You couldn’t always fool little kids. (Or people close to death. He’d found that out by accident. Felt so bad about scaring the little grandmother in the hospital that he’d healed her failing kidney for her. The resident Reaper had screeched at him in anger, but he’d just blown the bastard a raspberry and went back to his own business.)

“Honey, that’s a pretty eagle… not an angel.”

The girl looked so distraught as Dean began to move further away that he brought his finger to his lips and waved a hand in her direction. A crown of flowers appeared on her head from nowhere and she squealed in delight. The mother just looked completely stunned. Dean cackled and beat his wings to gain more altitude.

“Bye mister angel!”

Sending one last smile in her direction he banked right and allowed the tips of his great white wing to trail in the water leaving a little wake behind it. Several people around the area ‘oohed’ and ‘awwed’ and he figured he must have been making quite a striking image as the eagle. There was the fake camera shutter click from several cell phones which made him sigh and beat his wings again to leave the heavily populated area behind.

Boosting our ego today, Dean?

Dean laughed in delight and cast his gaze around the canyon looking for his lover.

Where are you, Cas?

There was a warm hum of affection in his mind.

Come and find me.

Grinning, he strengthened the effort of his wings and soared upwards toward the lip of the canyon. Soon enough he could make out the full glory of the landmark beneath him. He marveled for a moment at himself. How he could have been so afraid of flying in a plane, but like this … like this… he felt free. With a pull at the connection between him and his angel, Dean could sense Castiel standing at the edge of the drop about a mile ahead.

With a smirk he tucked his wings in and dove at full speed.

Dean!?

His angel appeared rooted to the spot, eyes wide as Dean barreled directly at him. Cas backed up a couple steps but didn’t actually try to escape. Within a few feet of the other man, Dean spread his wings wide and hooked Cas under the arms before he began to rapidly beat his wings again to counter the extra weight. Castiel released a startled squeak of breath before he wrapped his arms tightly around Dean’s neck and his feet locked around his calves. After battling the air currents for a few minutes to adjust for the drag of Castiel in his arms, they drifted calmly back over the canyon.

“Really, Dean?”

The younger man chuckled softly before craning his neck forward to place a soft peck of a kiss against his angel’s cheek.

“Just wanted to prove a point, Cas.”

Cas was quiet for a few moments before he pulled head back far enough to meet Dean’s gaze.

“Is that what this was all about? Proving Balthazar wrong?”

Dean shrugged a little as he doubled the strength of his wing beats and swooped up and over the lip of the canyon once again to bring them into a soft landing on the edge. After he made sure Cas was standing on his own, the younger man stretched out his wings one last time before pulling the power into himself and banishing them from sight. Castiel hadn’t appeared to have noticed the third set of golden wings during their little flight, so that was a bonus.

“He said it couldn’t be done, Cas. That angels didn’t actually use their wings for true flying anymore. I was just curious.”

With arms crossed tightly before him, Castiel raised a single skeptical eyebrow.

“Just curious? Or just happy to get a dig in on Balthazar and conveniently ignoring your responsibilities to do so?”

Dean groaned and flicked himself away from the Grand Canyon back into the privacy of their bedroom at the cabin. Cas was only a second behind him.

“Seriously, Cas? We’ve been looking for Chuck for months! Can’t I take a little break now and then?”

The older man’s shoulders hunched up tense like a nun’s in a brothel. Here it comes. For fuck’s sake.

“Dean… our Father is gone. No one has seen or heard from him in months, which in itself is not very unusual, however the fact that he is siphoning his power over to you in increasingly large doses with no clear reason is cause for alarm. He had assured you that it would be a gradual climb up to his replacement… and this seems to be the exact opposite. He is… is gang-banging you-”

“Wrong word, babe.”

“-with his powers and that could only mean that he lied to you all this time and has already decided to jump ship… or that something is wrong. Something is very wrong and he’s decided that you need a large increase of power very quickly. That possibility frightens the hell out of me. If there’s something that He can’t handle… how are you supposed to?”

Dean collapsed into their bed, wiggling down into the mattress until he was comfortable.

“Look, Cas, I know you’re worried and I get it… I really do. But I have no idea what else we can do at this point. We’ve looked everywhere we could think of. Weaseled all the info out of the heavenly host that we could… and we still ended up right where we started. With bupkiss.”

He turned his head towards his angel and with a smile, flicked Cas’ clothes off and replaced them with pajama pants. The blue-eyed angel squinted his eyes and pursed his lips, but Dean only giggled and lifted his arms toward his lover.

“Come on, gorgeous… come cuddle me.”

With an overly dramatic roll of his eyes (Dean was so proud) Cas crawled up onto the bed and settled in Dean’s arms, head rested against the younger man’s shoulder.

“I just worry that something is very wrong, and we’re not going to know about it until it is already upon us and we are overwhelmed.”

Dean snickered.

“You mean like usual?”

The angel just grunted before he snuggled down into the warmth of the human beside him. Dean hummed softly under his breath for he closed his eyes against the afternoon sunlight. Naps were the best things ever.

“We’ll figure it out, Cas. I promise. We just need to keep doing what we’re doing… and something will clue us in eventually. Even Death promised he would keep a creepy ear out for Chuck.”

Cas snorted. (It was adorable. Dean can attest the fact.)

“Death himself not being able to locate Him causes me even greater concern about the situation.”

There was silence for a few heartbeats while Dean considered that. Finally he nodded and whispered a small affirmative before closing his eyes to drift off in the warm comfort of a summer afternoon.

Sam stomped down the narrow pathways between rusted heaps of cars in the salvage yard. He could hear the lighter footsteps of another person step in behind him, but it didn’t cause him any worry, by this point he knew who it was. The answer was always the same lately.

“Honey-boo! To where are we stampeding with such aggressiveness today?”

The younger Winchester growled under his breath without even glancing back over his shoulder.

“Nowhere, Gabriel.”

With a quick shuffle of steps, the archangel caught up to walk beside him.

“Come now, darling… you clearly have a purpose. I was just hoping to be of some assistance to you.”

Sam dropped his head back to stare at the sky while he groaned in frustration.

“Gabe. I’m fine. I’m perfectly capable of wandering around on my own without any angelic tag-a-longs. If you really want to be helpful… find Chuck. Figure out what’s going on with Dean. Keep Castiel from gestating ulcers the size of a Ford Fiesta. Make Balthazar actually give a damn about someone other than himself. Do something fucking useful for a change.”

“Wow. Fuck you too, asshat.”

The sound of trotting footsteps disappeared abruptly and Sam swung his gaze to the side. Gabriel had stopped a few feet back and stood glaring at him. Sam slowed to a stop and turned back to face him. The archangel’s eyes were glittering gold and his arms were crossed over his chest. He looked pissed. Sam raised his eyebrows and gave his best puppy eyes. The older man snorted in response.

“Oh don’t give me that look, dammit. You’re being a little douchenozzle and I’m going to call you on it. You know that I’ve been doing plenty. So has Balthazar. So has everyone. I know that you two were disgustingly co-dependant for a long time… but it’s not just the dynamic duo any more. You’re not the only person worried about Deano. You’re not the only one concerned about this hazy fucking future our Father has kinda-sorta laid out from him. You’re not the only one that loves him. We all do. If you tell him I said that I will shave off your hair… but it’s the truth.

“However, stomping around like you’re the only one trying to do anything about it is ridiculous and unfair. I know you’re worried, pumpkin… but treating me like shit isn’t going to help anything. You do get that don’t you?”

Sam sighed heavily before he ran his hands down his face and leaned up against the nearest junked car.

“I know… I’m sorry, Gabriel. I know… it’s just… I don’t understand how much more this fucking universe can throw at us. Why can’t it just leave us alone? We just want a little peace and quiet.”

The shorter man slowly moved into Sam’s personal space and poked him softly in the belly with his finger.

“Oh, pookie-bear… I get that. We all do. But you need to admit to yourself that… that ship has sailed. You and Dean? You’re never gonna have a quote-unquote normal life. It’s not going to happen anymore. You had a chance once, both of you, but that’s gone now. Dean has accepted it. He understands. It only remains for you to follow in his footsteps and do the same. And yeah, it might suck balls for the most part I’m not gonna lie. But think about the amazing bit of it, too.”

Sam scoffed and turned away. Folded his arms across his chest and sought out the cabin in the distance with his gaze.

“Amazing. Right. What’s so amazing, Gabe?”

Warm fingers were suddenly gripping his chin and tilting his face back down to meet the archangel’s intense stare.

“Sam. You and your brother are privy to the inner most workings of the universe. That’s not considered amazing? People all over this planet are constantly asking why they’re here, what’s their purpose? And you know. Both of you. You are playing the part of the cautious conscience sitting on the metaphorical shoulder of the replacement for God. GOD, Sam! The two of you could have been insignificant specks in the grand scheme of the world… but now… your big brother- he of the perfect jaw line and ridiculous eyelashes- is taking over the spot of be-all-end-all. For fuck’s sake, Sam… what part of that isn’t amazing?”

The younger man could feel his face flush a little in embarrassment as his eyes dropped away from the angel’s. He nodded his head stiffly to acknowledge that he understood, before he gave a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders and spoke in a soft whispered tone.

“Sometimes I wish I was still just a speck.”

Gabriel hummed under his breath before he reached up to flick Sam’s nose softly with his finger.

“Well I, for one, am glad that you’re not. Because then I would have never met you.”

Sam blinked several times in a stunned sort of shock before he registered that the angel had disappeared into thin air. He licked his chapped lips and rubbed slowly at the spot on his nose that Gabriel had hit.

“Huh.”

And, drastically less annoyed that he was before, Sam continued on to his previous destination.

Dean stretched his arms high up over his head as he walked across the salvage yard and yawned into the cool morning air. A puff of his condensed breath billowed out before him and he shivered a little at the chill. Winter was beginning to tip-toe into the year and he honestly wasn’t looking forward to it. Most of his days were now spent with bare feet… and it just wasn’t that pleasant in the cold. He was wondering about the possibility of warming the air around him somehow when Balthazar popped into existence directly in his path.

He stuttered to a stop and blinked at the angel.

“Whoa there, Bal … a little warning next time might be nice.”

The angel shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes in obvious disregard.

“I’m afraid I wasn’t too worried about propriety, oh glorious one, as I’ve just been visited by Death. In the most literal of terms, mind you… he sought me out in the middle of Harrod’s.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips.

“Death came to you in a department store? That… sounds an awful lot like a bad 80‘s movie, actually.”

Balthazar scoffed. Loudly.

“Harrod’s isn’t just a department store you thrift shop Neanderthal… but we’re not going to get into this now. I have far more important things to be doing than schooling you on your obvious lack of fashion sense. Le Grande Mort wished to advise you that he may know something about the Father’s whereabouts.”

Those final words put a stop to the scathing rebuttal Dean was about to unleash on Annoying Angel #2. (Gabriel will always hold the #1 spot… little fucker.)

“What!? What exactly did he say?”

Balthazar sighed and swished one hand about in the air, clearing trying to emphasize something that Dean was just not getting… but who really cared anyway, right?

“He said there are whispers down below that Crowley’s been de-throned and a Knight of Hell is trying to bust my darling brother Lucifer out of the box. There was some sort of call for power amongst those of the darker ilk shortly before Father vanished. Some have even claimed they’ve seen Lucifer directly, but it’s nothing that Death said he could prove.”

Dean brought both his hands up to rub at his face in frustration.

“Fuck. Great. Okay.”

He tugged at his hair for a moment in thought.

“Right. Bal, please go update the rest of the troop… I’m going to go summon myself an ex-King of Hell.”

The angel tilted his head back in obvious shock.

“Are you sure that’s wise? If the rumors aren’t true… he could be meddlesome for you.”

Dean turned on his heel to walk towards Bobby’s house.

“Nah. I’m not worried about Crowley. I’ve leveled up enough lately, so I don’t think he’ll be much of a threat. I’ll be down in the bunker. Sam’s going to want to come, but don’t let him. Get Gabe to lock him down somewhere. The little shit will enjoy that, I’m sure.”

Balthazar chuckled darkly before he vanished in a tinkling of feathers. Once the angel was gone Dean zapped straight down into the safety bunker under the homestead and sealed himself in. Under no circumstances did he want his pair of worry-warts barging in and disrupting what needed to be done. He settled down in the middle of the cot, a poor piece of furniture that had seen more ridiculous drama than the couch in the Kardashian’s living room.

With a deep breath, Dean released the power holding back his wings from view and they sprang from his back with a rush of light and grace. It was his natural state, now, to always want them free and on display… but he fought against that. Mostly for the sake of Sam and Bobby’s sanity. They still weren’t really used to the new additions upon his person. (Probably would be even less now with the third set having recently appeared from nowhere.)

He rolled his shoulders and fluttered the wings a bit until they were settled, then closed his eyes with a soft sigh. Concentrated on finding that oil-slick sensation that had always accompanied Crowley. It took several moments before he found it somewhere down near Tahiti. Huh. Without much concern for the consequences, Dean gave it a very un-subtle TAP-TAP in greeting… and huffed in amusement when he seemed to startle the demon. There was a wary response that boiled down to ‘what the fuck do you want?’ and Dean responded with an offer of peaceful parlay. No traps. No judgment. Just a request for words.

A split second later a faintly harried looking ex-crossroads demon was standing in the middle of the bunker, glaring balefully up at the devil’s trap on the ceiling.

“And here I thought this was to be a peaceful parlay.”

Dean hummed softly and waved a careless hand towards the ceiling.

“Cool your knickers, Barbossa, I can get you out of there no problem. I just needed a safe place with a bit of privacy.”

Crowley grunted out an acknowledgment before clasping his hands behind his back and spinning on his heel to wander about the room.

“The infamous Singer panic room, eh? It’s everything I dreamed and more. Where does he squirrel away the whips and chains?”

With a roll of his eyes Dean pushed himself up to his feet and approached the demon slowly.

“So a little birdie has informed me that you’ve found yourself on the outs in Hell. Care to share with the class?”

A sardonic grin spread slowly across the other man’s lips.

“Oh? Is this a fact gathering mission? Our resident Godling feeling anxious about the stability of the deep, dark dirty places in the world? I’m touched. Truly. Right in the hollow echo of where my heart used to be.”

Always this one with his fancy words and vague responses.

“I just want to know what’s going on, Crowley. Feel like giving a straight answer for once?”

The demon clicked his tongue.

“Concerned about me, darling? Won’t your angel lover-boy get jealous?”

Before Dean could respond, the other man had stepped right up into his space and reached forward to twirl a finger around one of the long primary feathers of his large white wing. Instead of reacting to the taunt and pulling them back, Dean arched his wings out to their full span, a rather intimidating size in the circular room of the bunker. The tips of the white pair almost touched the high ceiling, the black set spanning low and wide, horizontal to the floor. (The little golden pair were flickering in aggression like they were some kind of over-compensating Pomeranian snarling at a Rottweiler. Dean ignored that set for now.)

“Ooo… such pretty plumage.”

Crowley stepped back out of Dean’s personal space with raised hands, silently giving an air of retreat. The demon shrugged his shoulders, but Dean still remained silent and looming in his display of dominance. Finally Crowley groaned and sauntered over to plop down on the cot himself.

“Fine, enough with the impressive territorial display. You heard correctly. A royal bitch of a demon has recently popped up from nowhere and given me some… trouble.”

Dean slowly allowed his wings to fall back into a resting pose.

“Trouble how? Kicked you to the curb?”

There was a look to Crowley’s face that resembled a toddler sucking on lemons.

“To put it bluntly… yes. It’s a Knight of Hell. Abaddon. Currently embodying the meat suit of an extremely alluring red-head. No clue where she’s been for the last several centuries, but she’s back… and apparently pissed that daddy’s in a box.”

Dean blinked.

“She’s going after the box? Lucifer’s box?”

“Going. Gone. Did, sweet cheeks. I haven’t seen it for myself… but there are whispers that he’s already free. That your little Chuckie was the key to open the door and now the Morning Star is out… and Big Daddy’s in. Stuck. In a box with his brattiest archangel.”

Now Dean’s arms fell away from his chest to hang listlessly at his sides.

“Holy fuck.”

Crowley grunted.

“Nice phrasing. Very apropos.”

The younger man ignored him to begin pacing the small space of the bunker. His fingers kept clicking and snapping with nerves as he tried to consider every option available to him.

“Can you get down there incognito and check it out?”

The demon raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“I have my ways, yes… but why in the world would you think that I might be interested in cooperating with you, of all people? I have tried to kill you, if you remember… several times in fact.”

Dean waved a dismissive hand at the older man without even turning to meet his eyes.

“Please. I’d hate to do a number on your obviously over-blown ego… but you’re no longer a threat to me. You want to be the King of Hell, and that’s where I would prefer you. Rather than the alternative.”

Crowley made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat.

“The devil you know, eh?”

Dean shook his head in response, but continued to pace.

“Hoooooo-no. I know both of you. That’s the point. You… I can deal with. You’re much less devil-ier. That bastard… I’ve had enough of. He needs to stay in the box. Or get put back in if he’s truly out.”

With a look of measured consideration, the demon finally stepped forward a pace and dipped into a curtsey.

“What does my Lord Squirrel wish of me?”

Dean shot him a heated glare as he stopped pacing in front of Crowley.

“Just find out if he’s really free. I think I might have someone that can get me to the box, just not sure if he can get inside it. That’s the best I’ve got at the moment.”

Crowley cackled, but before he could open his mouth to speak Dean flicked him back to Tahiti and out of his goddamn hair. He’d never understood the appeal for all the grandstanding that these douchey demons seemed to prefer. For fuck’s sake… just come out and say what you need and move on. Nothing wrong with a little simplicity. With a sigh that bordered on a groan, Dean popped himself back over to the cabin… and into a tension filled living room.

When he arrived, Cas immediately pushed right into his personal space.

“Did you speak with Crowley? Did he hurt you? Are you alright?”

The others in the room crowded closer, but kept silent. Dean brought his hands up to frame Cas’ face and he shook his head gently.

“I’m fine, Cas. And yeah, mister stellar personality just left. He did have a lot of good information, though, and he’s willing to share it.”

Without turning away from the group of humans and angels surrounding him, Dean stretched an arm over towards the kitchen and snatched a bottle of beer out of thin air. Every time he pulled his power to do something now a days, he realized how much easier it was becoming. He didn’t really even have to focus on the outcome of what he wanted any more. It was getting to be second nature to change the world around him without even blinking an eye. Cas seemed to be the only one that really took notice of it, and Dean was pretty sure he was starting to scare his angel a little bit.

With a hum of approval, Dean leaned forward to peck his lover gently on the lips before he popped the cap of the bottle of beer and took a quick swig.

“So. According to Crowley there’s a knight of Hell named Abaddon ruling the roost right now. She may or may not have broken Lucifer out of the box and stuck Chuck in his place.”

It was deathly quiet in the cabin for several seconds before Bobby suddenly flopped back down on the couch with a loud whump.

“Well… balls.”

Dean tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement as Sam stepped up closer to him.

“Are you sure Crowley’s telling the truth? He’s tricked us before.”

The elder brother sighed and glanced back over his shoulder. His wings were gone and he had no memory of tucking them away. He paused to contemplate that for a second. It was something he had never done without conscious effort before. His wings had never been part of the things that came naturally… until apparently now, they were. Dean chewed his bottom lip for a second before he brought the bottle back to his lips for another swallow. He was powering up even faster now. Without even realizing it any more. What the hell was Chuck thinking?

“Dean? Did you-”

“Nah, Sammy… it’s not a trick. He was hiding out in Tahiti when I called him, and he seemed a little… frayed around the edges. This wasn’t normal Crowley. Something’s going on for sure. I sent him to find out what the fuck is happening downstairs. Hopefully he actually reports back something useful.”

Balthazar snorted and scratched at his stubbled chin absently.

“And until then? What’s the plan?”

Dean sighed and rubbed his fingers across his brow.

“For now? I’m going to go on a wild Death chase. See if I can find him and ask him about the box. He’s the only person I can imagine that might have the ability to get inside. Until I find him… fuck if I know. Let’s just keep on doing what we’re doing. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

He gave a mock salute before transporting himself upstairs and into his favorite pajama pants. With a final sip of beer, he tossed it up in the air and made it land in a recycling center in Northern California. Cas was just walking into to room as Dean crawled up onto the bed and settled himself face down on his belly. The soft sounds of his angel changing clothes in the room lulled him into a sleepy haze until there was a body sliding up his own and settling down on top of him. Dean grinned.

“My own personal Cas blanket. I dig it.”

Castiel smiled and Dean could feel it against the back of his neck. A soft kiss was placed on the curve of his shoulder and then Cas tucked his head in close and stilled.

“What are you thinking, Dean?”

The human gave a long, pleased sigh before moving his hand to tangle his fingers together with Castiel’s.

“Thinking this is all probably going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”

Cas nodded his head where it was pressed against Dean’s.

“I agree. Nothing good could possibly come of Lucifer escaping the box. Or Chuck being trapped inside. I know you need to find Death and see for yourself, just please… be careful. When you put yourself in danger, it agitates me greatly.”

Dean huffed a soft laugh.

“I know, babe.”

Eventually they both slid over onto their usual sides of the bed and drifted off to sleep. Dean had odd dreams about Chuck being stuffed inside a Transformers lunch box and a black humanoid shaped shadow with red hair kept trying to toss it into the Grand Canyon. When he awoke, he took a minute to stare at the ceiling of their bedroom in contemplation. He got where his subconscious was going with that, kinda… but what the fuck was up with the Transformers being involved?

He rolled over to find Castiel still sleeping soundly beside him. Turned towards Dean, but curled into a slight fetal position. Dean grinned and scooted forward to plant a kiss on the angel’s cheek. Cas didn’t budge, so Dean upped the ante and nibbled lightly along the other man’s scratchy jaw line. His lover finally stirred and made a sleepy little groan as he turned to sprawl on his back. Dean smiled before brushing the hair out of Cas’ face and then pulled himself out of bed.

Half awake and stumbling to the bathroom, he pulled power to get the shower started and warm before he even made it through the door. Then he flicked away his pajamas into the hamper and took a satisfyingly long piss in the toilet. By the time he had brushed his teeth and climbed into the steamy, inviting shower he could hear Cas moving around in the bedroom. And before he had even washed the shampoo out of his hair, the angel was stepping into the stall with him.

“Hey, baby.”

The angel grunted nonsensically before just leaning over and planting against Dean with his entire body. Dean laughed as he finished rinsing his scalp and then turned Cas until he was under the spray instead. With careful hands he proceeded to wet and then soap up Castiel’s hair, scrubbing happily until his angel finally seemed to snap into awareness and took over the job of cleaning himself.

Dean snickered a little, but his heart and belly were clenching with that warm sort of contentment that only came with super cheesy domesticity. He reveled in it, really. Doing little dorky things with Cas like making the bed or picking out groceries. Any other chore he would much rather use his power to complete it with the minimal amount of effort, but things they did together… he liked to take his time.

He left Cas to finish as he walked back into their bedroom and snapped himself dry. With other click of his fingers he dressed himself in some super soft, ratty jeans and a pale green v-neck before he transported downstairs. Gabriel was fiddling around with the stove and Dean grinned at him.

“What are you up to so early in the morning?”

Gabe shrugged and stirred something that resembled eggs in the frying pan.

“I wanted to make my sweetie-moose some breakfast.”

Dean snorted and materialized a full English breakfast from this awesome little pub he’d found on the isle in front of him. A fork appeared in his hand with a soft ‘pop’ and then he dug in.

“I can’t imagine he’s taking very kindly to all the cutesy names.”

The archangel shot him a grin of pure deviousness before shrugging a shoulder.

“I’m wearing him down.”

Dean rolled his eyes and chewed for a minute on some sausage while he considered the man before him.

“You know, Gabe… if you’re really interested… if you really want him. Just… be yourself. This over the top stuff? He don’t like it, man. My brother was always about the 2.5 kids and a picket fence. Be sincere and you’ll get him, but if this is all for show… I’m gonna rip your balls off and make you wear ‘em as earmuffs. Got me?”

Gabriel had frozen in place to listen to the words Dean had directed at him, and after a minute he gave a little twitch. With a quick glance back at the murdered eggs on the stove, he blinked and then snapped them into oblivion.

“Sam… Sam likes those cream cheese pastry things from that bakery in Smithfield, right?”

Dean grinned and nodded. Gabe was gone in an instant.

“Nicely done.”

Dean jumped nearly a foot in the air and completely off his stool. The fork that had been in his hand clattered loudly as it clanged into the dish.

“Fucking dammit! Must you always?”

The tall, darkly clad form of Death responded with a smug little hum before he planted himself in the stool next to Dean’s. Once the younger man picked his nerves back up off the floor, he resettled before his breakfast and observed the horseman give it a curious eye. Dean motioned to the plate on the counter.

“You want?”

Death tilted his head and quirked an eyebrow. Dean flicked his hand toward the granite counter top and an exact replica of his breakfast appeared. The horseman’s lips ticked upwards just barely before fork materialized in his hand and he began to dig in as well. Albeit it with lot more casual grace than Dean was displaying.

“So, what’s up, El Muerto? Why the sudden visit?”

Death delicately nibbled on a bit of tomato and then patted his mouth clean with a cloth napkin that Dean did not even see him create.

“Well… I know that your lascivious little sycophant already informed you of the things I had learned, and now I hear you have conversed with that parasite, Crowley. So I, very correctly I’m sure, assumed that you would next be seeking me out in order to discover a method of reaching that detestable little box where your unshaven, maladroit Almighty may possible be imprisoned.”

Dean blinked at the other man for a beat, fork frozen in midair. Death raised an elegant eyebrow.

“Did I … get it in one? That is what they say, correct?”

The human grunted in amusement.

“Very astute there, Pale Horse… so, did you come with an answer to the question I haven’t actually asked yet?”

With a distracted wave of his hand, Death vanished both plates of food before them and then immediately replaced them with two steaming cups of coffee.

“Indeed. I can you get down there, but it’s very unlikely that I will be able to get you in. However, a thorough investigation of the cage would not be remiss. Between the two of us I am sure that we would be able to determine if your dearest Daddy is within. We must move fairly quickly, though… the minions of Hell have not been sitting very idly by as of late. There is definitely something brewing in the bowels of the earth.”

Dean made a muted sound of agreement as he sipped at his, frankly, perfect cup of coffee.

“You got a real fucking way with words, bud.”

Something that was definitely a wry grin this time, tugged at the horseman’s lips.

“Indubitably.”

Dean snorted in his coffee and sent a silent call-to-arms to his angels. Castiel appeared at his side almost instantly, only giving Death the briefest of glances (as if having the Grim Reaper sipping java at your kitchen island was a daily occurrence) before he tangled his fingers in the belt loops of Dean’s jeans and tilted his head in a silent question. Dean grinned in response as the flutter of wings announced Gabriel and Balthazar’s arrival as well. Neither Sam nor Bobby were in sight, and he figured that was probably for the best. Better they not know about field trips that they couldn’t participate in.

“Oh goody, the trio of malcontents.”

Never say that Death doesn’t have a sense of humor.

Gabe angled himself a little closer to Dean with a distrustful gleam in his eyes.

“Family vacation time, boss?”

Dean nodded as he stood from the kitchen stool and stretched his arms high above his head.

“Yup. His Reapness says he can get us down to the box, but from there we aren’t sure. Is everyone ready to go right now?”

Gabriel cleared his throat.

“What about Sam?”

Dean’s gaze flicked upward towards the second floor. He could feel his little brother still sleeping soundly.

“Sam stays.”

The shorter archangel opened his mouth to argue but Dean shook his head sharply.

“No arguments. Sammy stays here. He would want to go, and there’s no way I’m going to let that happen. He did his time down there. He stays ignorant of it for now.”

The archangel obviously didn’t agree with the decision, but remained mute on the subject as the group turned to walk out the front door of the cabin. Dean led them towards a large empty space in the salvage yard towards the back that he’d been clearing sporadically of its rusted heaps of metal. Death was standing in the middle waiting for them. Apparently a stroll through the dust was beneath him. Dean smirked.

“So, what’s the plan?”

The horseman calmly materialized his cane and tapped it a couple times on the packed earth. Instantly a gaping maw opened up directly beneath them and Dean squeaked (in an extremely manly way, of course) as he and the angels plummeted down into darkness. He immediately tried to pull power in order to slow his descent, but it was almost as if something had grabbed them around the ankles and was tugging them down. With a growl of frustration Dean manifested his wings and flared them out wide. His speed slowed at once from an uncontrolled fall … to a graceful drift.

Cas, Gabe and Balthazar followed his lead an instant later and Dean realized with a shock that this was actually the first time he had seen any of their wings materialize. Castiel’s were a gorgeous black with a burgundy sheen to them. Balthazar’s were a soft dove gray, and Gabriel had three pairs. Six, honestly pretty stunning, golden wings that spanned out behind him.

The group landed one by one in a dark, dungeon-esque room. A perfect square space with four walls and a floor made of ancient looking cobblestones, grayed and deteriorated with time. There was lichen and fungus growing on the walls where water dripped down from nowhere. The room had no ceiling that Dean could see. Just an inky black darkness above them. Two rusted brass sconces were on opposite walls of each other, with flames burning a sort of sickly green color.

And in the middle, on a plain wooden table, sat a box.

Dean took a step forward, but Castiel hissed his name softly and grabbed him around the wrist. The ex-hunter only spared his lover a short glance before he went back to studying the object before them. It appeared to be a simple black metal box. Only about a square foot in size, with no obvious way to get inside. There were no locks or hinges, no top to swing open… he couldn’t even make out screws or welds. Just a perfectly square metal box.

Death stepped up to the table and eyed it curiously.

“Not quite what I was expecting, I must admit, but I suppose it is sort of elegant in its simplicity.”

Beside Dean, Gabriel took a step backwards.

“I don’t like this. It feels really, really… bad in here.”

Balthazar snorted.

“Very astute brother, dear. Why not state even more of the ob-”

“What the HELL do you think you’re doing?”

The group whipped around to find a shell-shocked looking Crowley standing at the edge of the room. He was almost vibrating with a sort of nervous frenzy that immediately put Dean ill at ease.

“Crowley? What are you-”

The demon hissed under his breath and continuously glanced about the room as if he expected Lucifer himself to pop out at him.

“I thought you were going to wait for me to get back to you. I didn’t think you would skip right the fuck down here on your merry little twinkle-toes at the first second the option became available! Are you bloody daft? This is probably exactly what she-”

A horrible screeching noise cut off Crowley’s words and bounced off the walls in a horrifying echo. Dean cried out in pain and covered his ears tightly with his hands. He turned his head towards Castiel and found everyone else in the room doing the same. The sound was like a million nails being scratched down a chalkboard. Dean could swear he felt blood beginning to trickle between his fingers.

Castiel staggered sideways in Dean’s peripheral vision and seemed unsteady on his feet.

“CAS!”

He had been sure that he screamed his angel’s name, but couldn’t even make out his own voice in the devastation of the screeching. Beside him, Balthazar had fallen to his knees, and Gabriel had streams of bright red blood pouring down from his nose and dripping off his chin. Even Crowley was crouched in almost a fetal position in the corner… and Death… had apparently booked it out of there. Fucking flip-floppy bastard.

Dammit.

Dean dropped his hands away from his ears and pulled himself up straight. With as powerful a surge as he could manage, he flared out all three sets of his wings and poured every ounce of energy he could muster into bringing a halt to the noise that was hurting his angels. The instant silence was deafening and Dean could only gape for a second when Crowley suddenly opened his eyes and hollered at him.

“NO! No, you stupid squirrel! Don’t do that!”

Before he even finished yelling, Dean had a sudden very, very bad feeling. It felt like darkness was pooling around his ankles and he tilted his head down to look when a pain like a shard of ice pierced straight through his heart. Dean screamed in response and instinctually reached for Cas, but a burst of power flew outwards from the box and everyone in the room, save for Dean, was thrown violently against the wall where Crowley stood.

“DEAN!!”

The angels were struggling to get nearer to him, and Cas was frantically calling his name. Even Death had reappeared, but seemed frozen to the spot as well. Though, if he wasn’t in such pain, Dean would have felt immensely warmed by the sight of the Grim Reaper pushing to try and reach for Dean’s outstretched hand. The pain in his chest curved sharply, almost like a fish hook latching on, and the next thing he knew Dean was being dragged backwards against his will.

Straight for the box on the table.

“NO! Fuck! NO!”

He began to beat his wings frantically and tried to dig his toes into the dirty cobbled floor to stop his movement, but nothing was working. The angels were screaming and struggling towards him in a frenzy, but Dean’s butt knocked into the table and apparently one of his wings touched the box… and that was it. There was a bright flash of light and the next thing he knew it was pitch black and silent. There was nothing. Just a heavy scent of ozone and the far away sounds of raised voices.

Both of which he recognized.

“Motherfucker.”

When Dean vanished … the room immediately settled into a calm, silent stillness. It could very well have been considered almost peaceful, if Castiel’s world hadn’t just been ripped away from him before his very eyes. He could only drop to his knees on the filthy ground as his brothers ran over to the table to desperately grab at the metal box. He hadn’t even noticed the tears streaming down his face until an embroidered white handkerchief was suddenly fluttering before him.

Cas could only glance upon the cloth in stunned stupor before Death ‘tsked’ softly and bent forward to place the handkerchief in the angel’s slack hands.

“Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit.”

With a slight turn in the opposite direction, he could see Crowley pacing back and forth in the small room and furiously typing something into his phone. Castiel wanted to rage and scream and throttle the demon into the ground… but he couldn’t move. He was numb and paralyzed and raw. A strangled sort of high pitched whine slipped from his throat that caused his brothers to both whip their gazes back to where he kneeled on the floor. Balthazar immediately trotted over and crouched before him. He grabbed Castiel’s face with his hands, wiped at the tears with his thumbs.

“Hey, hey, hey… come now Cassie, darling. Let’s keep it together, love. Now is not the time to lose ourselves.”

The younger angel’s voice croaked out from his painfully throbbing throat.

“This keeps happening. Why does this keep happening?”

Balthazar tilted his head, but before he could speak Cas reached up to grip his brother’s wrists tight.

“The universe keeps conspiring to take him away from me. I do not understand why. Why can’t we just have each other and be left alone?”

Crowley snorted from nearby, phone held up to his ear as he only half-listened to tinny voice speaking to him from the other side.

“Look, angel-cakes, if that’s what you wanted out of this little romance, you chose the wrong human being to bump uglies with.”

Castiel scowled at the demon.

“Dean is far from ugly.”

The ex-King of Hell rolled his eyes so dramatically that his head and neck took part in the gesture.

“Oh for fucks-YES, I know, I know! Dean is a pretty pretty princess! What I’m saying is that the Winchesters are super-magnets when it comes to trouble, angst and death! Present company included, of course.”

The horseman in question was bending over the metal box on the table and completely ignored Crowley’s words, so the demon continued.

“My point is, was… whatever… if you were looking for a clichéd rom-com ending with sweet love making in the grass and Unchained Melody playing in the background, you picked the wrong horse in the stable, mate. Even before your all-seeing deadbeat Dad decided to bequeath elder Winchester the whole fucking universe… those brothers had a target painted on their backs the size of Kilimanjaro. Bad things are going to happen to them, and around them.”

Castiel pulled himself slowly up from the floor and turned to face the demon.

“More times than not, you have been the bad thing happening to them, Crowley.”

The demon cackled and hung up on whomever he’d been listening to on the phone.

“Very true, darling, very true. But then… I’m a demon. And the King of Hell. It’s in my nature, hell… it’s in my job description, and believe you me I take that very seriously. You can’t fault me for doing what I am supposed to, but what about you lot, eh? Your legion of angels? You’re supposed to be the good guys, aren’t you? How have any of you enhanced the quality of Winchester life?”

Castiel took a step back and turned to share a look with Gabriel. He couldn’t be sure exactly what he saw on his brother’s face, but there was definitely a modicum of guilt there. Despite their silent exchange, Crowley continued to speak.

“Between Zachariah, Michael, Raphael … Lucifer-”

The demon’s mouth twitched into a smirk.

“-which of our species had been more damaging to that family? Perhaps you should think that over before you step up into my space, Tinky Winky.”

Gabriel finally pushed past Castiel and came chest to chest with the demon.

“Look, asshole, that’s a really great speech and all… but what I don’t understand is why you’re fucking here. That last time we saw you, you had literally just stabbed Dean in the back. So you’re not really part of this family, and sitting there playing the concerned citizen about the Winchester’s is only succeeding in making me want to find a flaming sword and melt your face off.”

Crowley raised both hands in concession and stepped back a pace.

“No need to get your feathers in a ruffle, sweetheart. I am in this purely for selfish reasons, I assure you. Dean informed me that he would rather have yours truly in charge of Hell than Abaddon or sweet little Luci. I am merely here to protect my investment.”

Crowley raised the hand holding his phone and wiggled it about.

“Thought you might also be interested to know that Lucifer has apparently just popped out of the box… as it were.”

Balthazar swore loudly and Gabriel stepped back a pace in shock. Castiel immediately turned to look at the simple looking little box on the table. Death was currently tapping at it with the knob of his cane. The horseman turned to face Cas as he approached.

“Very interesting, isn’t it? That immediately upon Dean’s disappearance into the cage… that the creature it was built specifically for should slip out?”

Castiel eyed the box and felt a horrible tug at his heart. His lover was stuck inside, and he had no idea how to free him again.

“You think this was a trap then? A lure to get Dean close enough for a swap? A trade? But how would that work?”

Crowley stepped up to the table as he tucked his phone back into his jacket pocket.

“It must have been about power, right? A big enough source of power nearby somehow triggered a trap, a spell… something, that caused a straight swap.”

Gabriel and Balthazar joined them at the table. Three angels, a demon and the Grim Reaper conversing in a circle as if an everyday occurrence. Castiel had the fleeting thought that Sam would be very entertained by this situation… and then his thought processes came screeching to a halt.

“Sam.”

As he expected, Gabriel’s head whipped towards him upon hearing the name of the younger Winchester and Castiel could only shake his head sadly at his brother.

“We must tell Sam that Dean is … Dean is trapped. He should know… and he will blame us.”

The archangel groaned and wiped a hand down his face in obvious weariness.

“Yeah, he might… but he and Bobby might be able to think of something that we can’t. They’re the ones that worked out how to put Luci back in the cage last time right? With the rings from the horseman? What happened to those?”

Death cleared his throat as he picked delicately at the dust covering the table before them.

“I may have them in my possession. However, I do not believe that same method would work a second time. I can retrieve the rings, though… if we would like to give it a try.”

Crowley prodded at the box with his index finger.

“Do we know for a fact who all is in there?”

Castiel and Gabriel spoke up simultaneously.

“Michael.”

With an aggrieved eye roll, the demon took a step back.

“Oh, fabulous, he of the supreme ego and utter lack of anything resembling a personality.”

Balthazar snorted but quickly turned into a throat clearing when everyone glanced his way.

“So, we’re saying that Dean, Michael and possibly God himself are all stuck in Lucifer’s cage? The three most powerful beings in the Heavenly Host? How are we not completely fucked here, my dears?”

Gabriel sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Okay, first order of business… can we take this box with us? Because I, for one, am not comfortable leaving it down here for Abaddon or Lucifer to come back and retrieve.”

Death made a thoughtful hum before he cautiously leaned forward and picked the box up with one pale hand, as if it weighed nothing.

“I do believe that I can transport it without issue. Where shall I take it?”

Gabriel shared a glance with his brothers before speaking.

“Take it to Bobby’s panic room. There are enough wards there that it should be safe for now. Can you meet us in the cabin after you’ve done that and retrieved the rings of the horsemen?”

The Grim Reaper flicked his hand at the archangel in a dismissively displeased manner.

“I suppose I might.”

And with that, he and the box vanished. As soon as he was gone, the room started to rumble alarmingly and Crowley whistled lowly.

“Whelp, that’s our cue to leave boys! Grab on!”

The demon reached his arms out towards the angels, and Castiel reluctantly took hold of the man’s forearm. He only had time to see his brother’s reach out and do the same before they were spinning in a vortex of darkness and smoke, only to pop up a second later in the middle of Singer Salvage. When they released the demon’s arms, Crowley made an over-the-top presentation of wiping the non-existent dirt from his jacket sleeves. They were all startled by the slam of a screen door, and Castiel turned to find Sam Winchester storming towards them with an alarming angry look on his face.

“Where the hell have you been? I woke up and everyone was gone! No note or - why the fuck is Crowley here? And… where’s Dean?”

Castiel instantly felt a punch of pain in his chest and raised both hands to cover his face. He could hear Sam still demanding answers and Gabriel trying to placate him with calming words and promised explanations, but Castiel just wanted to be near Dean. So he turned silently and slowly made his way towards the panic room beneath the Singer household. Even if he could do nothing more than just sit there and watch the box, he hoped at least that Dean would be able to tell he was near.

Sam watched as Cas turned away in silence and made his way towards Bobby’s house with a heavy droop to his shoulders. A sick twist of anxiety stabbed him in the gut as he watched the angel go. Slowly he turned back to Gabriel, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“Gabe? Where’s my brother?”

The archangel’s eyes were somber and serious, which made Sam start shaking his head in instant denial. He pointed an angry finger at the angel, his voice came out shaky and vehement.

“No. NO! Don’t you dare tell me that something happened to him. Don’t you fucking DARE! You are supposed to watch out for him! You’re supposed to PROTECT HIM!”

Gabriel flinched at Sam’s raised voice and Balthazar was studying the ground with a guilty moue on his lips. Acid was currently bubbling inside Sam’s gut, trying to make its way up into his throat. He felt like he might hurl his breakfast into the nearest rusted out shell of a car. He was fighting back the burn of tears when Crowley stepped forward into his line of sight.

“Look… Moose… it honestly wasn’t their fault. Dean just-”

“WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE!?”

The fear and rage and denial and everything else building up inside of him burst forth as soon as the demon began to speak.

“The last time we saw you, you were trying to kill my brother! So what the HELL do you think you’re doing here now acting like you’re concerned? Like you fucking care? Huh? What possible fucking reason do you have to stand there and include yourself in this discussion? Oh, I know why you’re here. I know that you have an agreement with Dean. But don’t for a second think they you have equal footing here. That you have the right to interrupt me when I’m speaking with my brother’s angels. My friends. Now shut up and step the fuck back.”

Crowley raised both hands in a placating gesture and mimed zipping his lips closed and throwing away the key. Sam sneered at him before turning back to Gabriel.

“Gabe? Where’s Dean?”

The angel walked up to Sam and grabbed the taller man’s arms gently.

“Look, Sam… we’re not sure what happened okay? One minute Dean was there with us, then he accidentally touched the box… and we’re pretty sure he got sucked inside.”

Sam blinked.

“The box? THE box? As in the cage for Lucifer? You all went down to check out Lucifer’s box, the one that I was once stuck inside I might add, without me?”

Balthazar cleared his throat softly.

“Dean didn’t want you to go, pumpkin. I don’t think he wanted you to see it. I think he was worried it would upset you.”

Pulling himself up to his full height, Sam laughed a little hysterically.

“Upset me? It upsets me more being left behind. Dean should know that.”

Balthazar nodded.

“I’m sure he does, but he made the call, Sam. What’s done is done. The more important thing is that we’re pretty sure that Dean, Michael and Father are all stuck inside… and Crowley has intel that Lucifer is out.”

A spike of fear went straight through Sam at the thought of having to face the devil again, but he didn’t interrupt Balthazar.

“Death was supposed to bring the box to Bobby’s super secret room in order to protect it. We were hoping that you and the old coot might be able to find another way inside. The rings of the four horsemen should be on the way, as well.”

Sam gathered himself together with a deep breath before he nodded a couple times and turned toward the Singer household.

“Okay. Okay, yeah… let’s go.”

Gabriel’s hands slipped away from his arms, but Sam purposefully caught one before the angel could step back and twined their fingers together. They walked the full way to the panic room hands held tightly between them.

Dean sighed heavily as he thumped the metal wall before him with his fist, and then spun around to try and gauge the direction of the voices he could hear in the distance. They were raised, but not really in anger… seemed more like frustration. As he meandered toward them (why the hell should he rush, he was stuck in the fucking box) Dean observed his surroundings.

Not that there was much to detail really. Or, you know … anything at all. Just the same kind of metal walls that had made the outside of the box, only on a much larger scale. The ground was soft at least. Felt like it might be piles of powdered ash. It squished between his toes and clung to the bottom of his jeans. There was a dim, hazy light illuminating the area around him, but he couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from. Nothing was definable in the gray haze. No objects or landscape, just fuzzy darkness.

He made a soft sound of disdain, but continued to walk. And walk. And walk and walk and walk. But nothing ever got any clearer. Neither the surroundings nor the voices in the distance. They were still on the edges of his hearing, like he hadn’t been moving at all. Dean narrowed his eyes in suspicion before he slowly brought his hands together in front of his body and pulled enough energy to create a softball sized ball of light. The glow it created only made everything that much more hazy and difficult to see through. Almost as if he was standing in the middle of a dust storm.

Which gave him a potentially stupid idea… but he was going to try it anyway.

“What’s there to lose?”

With a small grunt, Dean manifested his wings and let the ball of light slip away to nothingness. Careful to shield his eyes with both hands, he began to beat all three sets of wings vigorously in tandem, all the while making sure he kept his feet on the ground. It only took a few moments before there was a whirlwind of air kicking up all around him and attempting to spit particles in his eyes. The dust storm of ash slowly seemed to thin around him, and the voices grew louder and clearer, until he could finally make one out.

“Dean? Dean!! Keep it up. We’re almost to you.”

He nodded rather than swallow the mouthful of dust he would get if he’d spoken out loud. It was only a couple seconds more before a small hand gripped at his elbow.

“That’s good, Dean. You can stop now.”

When he slowed his wings to a stop and pulled them tight to his back the air around him settled. Leaving the return of the dark grey film, but also two familiar figures standing to his side. Chuck smiled up at him when Dean breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well there you are, you little shit.”

Chuck grinned and opened his mouth to speak, but there were suddenly large hands pushing into Dean and a growling visage shoved in his face.

“You will show our Father some respect.”

Dean could only blink as he again stared into the eyes of the long lost brother he and Sam had once never known about.

“Adam?”

The other man snorted and raised a sardonic eyebrow at him.

“No, Dean. There is no Adam here.”

With a sigh, Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

“Michael. Douchiest douche to have ever douched. Where’s Adam?”

The archangel pulled a corner of his lip up in anger and started to step forward, only to be halted by Chuck’s hand planted in the middle of his chest.

“Dean, Adam’s not here. I sent his soul back up to Heaven. That’s one of the reasons why I came down here in the first place.”

Dean nodded at Chuck’s words, but didn’t take his eyes off of Michael.

“What are the other reasons, Chuck? To save this asshole?”

“Yes. I figured that since I was giving all the other angels a second chance, Michael and Lucifer deserved no less.”

Now that caused Dean to whip his gaze over to the All Father.

“Lucifer? You were going to give Lucifer another chance? At what? The Apocalypse? World Domination? Fucking us all over? You would give him a chance to redeem himself… and not Cas? I know you’re just messing with me right now, Chuck. You damn well better be.”

Michael was suddenly in Dean’s face, an arrogant sneer smeared across his lips.

“You dare to question Father’s judgments? Castiel is a sniveling, weak traitor. He-”

Dean grabbed the angel by his lapels and slammed him down, hard, into the ashy floor. All three sets of his wings flared wide in a display of aggression, and Dean’s voice rumbled out low and deep.

“That’s my angel you’re talking about there, dickbag. I suggest you watch your tone.”

Michael appeared to be too stunned to respond, his eyes were locked on the wings spread out behind Dean, especially the third little golden set. Chuck made a sort of happy squeak from behind him, and then there were hands stroking along the long white feathers of his most prominent pair.

“These are a new addition! I’m sorry I missed out on these. Oh! Look at the third set! Already! You’re progressing faster than I’d ever hoped!”

Dean pulled himself back up to a standing position with a single beat of the black set of wings and Chuck damn near giggled.

“Yeah, Chuck… you actually missed a lot. There was a lot of shit I really could have used some advice on.”

The shorter man shrugged his shoulders and smiled warmly.

“You’ve done fine on your own. I didn’t want you to be too dependent on me. When I go this time… I’m going to GO, Dean. When it’s your time to take over, you won’t be seeing me again. I’ll be in the wind, and I’ll be gone. But look at you! So impressive already! Three sets! And look at the little golden pair… so cute.”

Chuck cooed at the wings, causing them to flutter about in excitement. And Dean to consider face-planting himself in the dirt. Ash. Whatever. Michael had risen from the floor himself, arms crossed and desire to smite anything that moved clearly painted across his face. Dean gave him his sweetest, most mocking smile before turning back to Chuck.

“So lemme guess, Pops. Surge of power got you sucked in here?”

The deity tilted his head in an agreeing gesture and pursed his lips.

“For the most part. I was gathering a little power to hop in for a visit, hopefully sort everything out, but something happened and I couldn’t get back out. There was a spell trying to drain my grace into a vessel on the outside of the cage, so I simply… redirected it towards you.”

Dean scratched at his chin while he processed what Chuck said.

“There was a different vessel? Taking your grace?”

Chuck nodded.

“But only for a little bit. Once I realized what was happening it was pretty easy to direct it towards you. That’s where I’ve been slowly siphoning it, anyway.”

Tucking his wings close into his back, Dean turned to pace to and fro for a couple moments before speaking again.

“That was probably the surge that leveled me up so quickly. But, before that… the other vessel… I bet that’s where Abaddon came from.”

Michael and Chuck both stiffened their spines at the name. Dean raised an eyebrow at their reaction.

“Yeah? Know that one, do we? Crowley said it was a Knight of Hell, currently occupying a fiery redhead. You think maybe that was what sucked at your power for a bit? Something to awaken Abaddon? Like a “break in case of emergency” spell that someone had obviously put on the cage?”

Chuck cleared his throat and rubbed at his eyes.

“Possibly… or really, likely, if I had to guess. If Abaddon just appeared out of nowhere so suddenly and it coincided with me getting trapped in here, I would hedge bets on it.”

Dean nodded.

“So, lemme throw out a wild guess here. When I got sucked in here, did Lucifer disappear? Had he been in here with you before?”

Both Michael and Chuck gave a weak grimace, but it was the archangel who answered.

“To a degree, yes. Lucifer isn’t … my brother isn’t really who he was before. I think being shoved back into this prison for a second time really broke something inside of him.”

Dean crossed his arms.

“You two were fighting it out when we sent you down here, so what happened?”

Michael sighed heavily before turning slowly around to stare at the emptiness that surrounded them. Dean pursed his lips for a second, then flicked his wrist behind them and three comfortable looking black armchairs suddenly popped up from the dust. Michael’s head cocked back at their sudden appearance before he turned to eye Dean warily, but Chuck only grinned proudly.

“Well done, Dean! You seem to really be getting the hang of this!”

The younger man smiled as he hid away his wings and moved to settle into one of the chairs.

“Wish I could grab us some beers, fellas… but it feels like I can only make stuff out of the ash in this place.”

Chuck nodded in agreement as he settled into his chosen seat.

“Got to admit, I don’t actually need food. But I’ve been starving all these years.”

Dean hummed softly under his breath, remembering all too clearly the slow passage of time in a place very similar to this.

“How long has it been for y’all?”

Michael spoke up this time as he slouched back into his own chair.

“For Lucifer and me it has been nearly 2000 years.”

Dean choked. He could feel his eyes bulging in their sockets, but didn’t interrupt as Michael continued.

“I think Father has been here for 50 or 60?”

Chuck only nodded in response, so the archangel continued.

“I’m sure you remember the strange passage of time in Hell. It’s very similar here, I’m afraid. My brother and I… we continued to battle for many years after we were sent to this place, but after a while we just… began to talk. There was nothing else to do in this void. So I listened to what he had to say, and in turn he listened to me. We had once been very close, my brother and I, and I think we were working out some very important issues. But then Father arrived and my brother… changed.”

Chuck steepled his fingers together across his chest and spoke up when Michael paused.

“With the knowledge now that my arrival here somehow triggered a spell or summoning to set Abaddon free, perhaps that is what affected him. All I know is that in the decades I’ve been down here, he never once stopped ranting and raving about uppity demons and the proper running of Hell. Now I’m beginning to wonder if he had made contact with the outside somehow, and didn’t let us know.”

Dean grunted and tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair thoughtfully.

“Do you think he was complaining about Crowley? Or Abaddon? Because Crowley has been ousted from Hell. Crowley said she came in and turned everyone against him, so he fled. Makes you wonder if she promised all the demons the return of Lucifer and that’s how she gained favor? Then she must have started spreading the rumors that Luci was out so that they would eventually get to someone who would tell me. In this case Death overheard some demons and when he told us he could get us down here to check it out, we came right away. Fuck, that was dumb.”

He had to stop speaking because Chuck was grinning at him ridiculously, and Michael was staring in shock. Dean shifted in his seat.

“What?”

Michael cleared his throat before speaking slowly and clearly.

“You have the horseman of Death as an ally?”

Dean cackled.

“Yeah, man… dude’s pretty chill. We spent some time bonding over fried foods and he offered to help me out sometimes. I gave him a couple feathers. Not sure why he wanted them. Seemed to fangirl over that a bit, honestly. Was odd.”

The archangel made a strange choking sound as Dean had spoken. Chuck just snickered under his breath.

“Seriously, what?”

Michael shook his head and gave him an odd sort of side-eyed glance, so Dean ignored him.

“Anyway, Cas, Bal, Gabe and I came down with Death to see the box… but then Crowley showed up and started hollering about how this was probably exactly what she wanted. Then I had to pull some power to stop this fuck-awful noise that erupted… and BAM. Here I am.”

The angel was gaping at him again, and Chuck’s shoulders were beginning to shake with the laughter he was obviously fighting off. Dean snarled.

“Seriously, dude, WHAT?”

Michael blinked once and opened his mouth to speak, froze like that for a few seconds, and then closed his mouth. Repeated once or twice. Finally spoke.

“Balthazar and Gabriel?”

Dean nodded.

“They’re… they’re with you?”

Dean shrugged.

“They’re my archangels. Along with Cas. Chuck gave ‘em to me.”

Chuck was covering his mouth with one hand, but you could still see the crinkled evidence of his smile around his eyes. Michael threw his hands up in the air in a fit of pique.

“You gave him two of my brothers? Just … Gabriel? One of your original archangels? I don’t understand what is going on here! Are you going to give me to this swaddled upstart as well?”

The All Father sighed happily and leaned back into his chair. His hands fell into his lap to pick at his ever-present housecoat.

“No, Michael. You and I … and Raphael and Lucifer… our time is done. We’ve been around for too long. Made too many mistakes. When I retire, you three are coming with me. We are going to rid this world of our manipulations and family issues. Bequeath it to the next generation. See if they can do better than we.”

Dean glanced down, a little sheepishly, to watch his toes wiggle around in the ash.

“Not Gabriel?”

Chuck outright laughed at his question.

“Oh, no. Gabriel has a new purpose to his existence. A reason to stick around.”

The younger man lifted his gaze back to meet the deity’s and grinned.

“Wouldn’t happened to be a ridiculously tall, broad shouldered, shaggy-headed one, would it?”

Chuck just grinned in response. For his part, Michael just blinked at them both.

“But for now. What do we do? We’re stuck here.”

Tilting his head upward, Chuck made a thoughtful hum in the back of his throat.

“I wonder about that. Can’t you feel him, Dean?”

Dean cocked his head to the side, but closed his eyes and concentrated. There was a warm presence hovering just outside of his sphere of influence that brought a smile to his face.

“Cas.”

Castiel couldn’t stop running his fingers softly along the edges of the box. Couldn’t stop thinking about his lover stuck inside who knows what kind of prison, unable to free himself. Unable to return to his home and those that loved him. Loved him so much that they couldn’t find it within themselves to be parted from him. Even for a second.

“Can you hear me, Dean?”

The angel listened carefully for a response, although he wasn’t really expecting one.

“We shall find a way to release you, I promise. There are far too many important things you are meant to accomplish. Being trapped inside a cage is no place to fulfill your destiny.”

He sighed and traced a heart-shaped pattern into the flattened metal surface. Gabriel had finally pulled Sam away for a while to get some rest. Bobby and Balthazar were hunting through the older man’s spell books upstairs, and Crowley was glob-trotting, trying to gather information. At least that’s what he claimed anyway.

“How are you doin’, sweetheart?”

Castiel raised his head to meet Sheriff Mills’ gaze as she walked into the panic room. She offered him a warm cup of coffee, which he gratefully accepted.

“Don’t you think you should get some rest, Cas? You’ve been down here for days.”

He only shook his head in response.

“I feel like it’s important not to leave him, Jody. I want him to somehow sense that I am nearby. That I am not going to abandon him.”

Jody laughed softly and sat down beside him on the worn cot.

“Oh, honey. Dean knows that. That boy loves you with every fiber of his body. He knows that you’re worried about him. He knows that you and the boys are going to do everything you can to get him out of there. But I bet he also wants you to get some rest and look out for yourself when he’s not here to do it. What do you think he would say right now if he knew you were runnin’ yourself ragged?”

Castiel rubbed his fingers across his throbbing temples and down the bridge of his nose.

“He would threaten to knock me out and tie me to the bed. And then make a very lewd and innuendo-laden comment to go with that suggestion on the very next breath.”

Jody grinned.

“You know him too well, Cas. Tell you what. I’ll sit here with Dean. You go and take a shower, put on some clean clothes… then come back and take a nap on the cot with your man, okay?”

The angel smiled fondly at the woman before nodding his head. He was gone with a soft shuffle of feathers and Jody sighed as she glanced at the box propped against a flat pillow on the cot.

“You better hurry back, kiddo. Your family is losing it around here.”

The box mocked her with silence, so she stuck her tongue out at it… and then wondered if hanging around with hunters and angels was going to make her just as batty as them one day.

Sam was pacing back and forth in his room and tugging at his hair. Gabriel watched him for a few more minutes before he groaned loudly and flopped back onto the younger Winchester’s bed.

“Sam. Sammy. Please, for the love of Chupa-Chups… get some sleep.”

The younger man shook his head, but was too busy chewing on his fingernail’s to respond. Gabriel rubbed at his throbbing skull and wondered exactly how it was that archangels could possibly get migraines. He was pretty sure it had to do with Winchesters. All of them. Even the adopted ones.

“Honey-boo… I’m begging you here. You’re driving me nuts.”

Sam stopped abruptly in the middle of his room and flailed his arms about.

“How the fuck am I supposed to sleep, Gabe? Dean and Chuck are in that damn cage and the Devil is apparently roaming about once again! He could be anywhere-”

“Maybe he went down to Georgia!”

Sam groaned and covered his face with both hands.

“Gabe-”

“He was lookin’ for a soul to steal.”

The younger man huffed out a soft laugh behind his hands and Gabriel used his distraction to snag at Sam’s belt loops and drag him closer to the bed.

“He’s in a bind, cuz he’s way behind and he’s willing to make a deal.”

The angel flopped back down into the middle of Sam’s bed, pulling the younger man with him and forcing Sam to straddle the angel’s waist. When Sam’s hands dropped away from his face, he was blushing so pretty, not meeting Gabriel’s eyes but staring instead at his own thighs spread obscenely wide. His voice was a stuttered whisper when it came out.

“G-Gabe.”

Gabriel grinned as he ran his hands down those muscular thighs.

“Yes, pumpkin?”

Sam shook his head once, long hair falling into his face at the motion.

“I can’t… not now with Dean…,”

With a heavy sigh the angel moved his hands back up to pat at Sam’s ridiculously firm stomach.

“I’m not trying anything, Sam. I just want you to lie down and relax for a little while, okay?”

The younger man nodded a little stiffly (no Gabe, bad Gabe, don’t think about stiffly… ignore stiffly) and tilted sideways to fall off the angel and towards his pillow.

“I’m not sure I actually can.”

Gabriel hummed and scooted up the bed to plaster himself against the human’s side and carefully tucked Sam’s hair behind one ear with nimble fingers.

“I can make you sleep for a little while. I promise for only a couple hours, and then I’ll wake you. Unless something happens and then I’ll wake you sooner.”

Sam blinked up at him.

“Promise?”

With a fond smile the angel nodded before he touched the pads of his fingers against the younger man’s forehead gently, and then Sam was instantly in the land of nod. Gabriel groaned and grumbled as he flipped himself over to occupy the other side of the bed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why don’t you just rip my heart out of my chest and crush it in front of me, Sam? Fuck!”

He turned to watch the younger man snuffle in his deep sleep and had to fight the tears that were trying to well up behind his eyes.

“You’re no fair, you know that, right kid? So fucking pretty, and smart, and … tall. God, you’re so fucking tall! I just want to climb right up you like my own private jungle gym, you indecently gorgeous bastard. What’s up with Winchester genes, huh? Ridiculous. Swear to fuck.”

The angel closed his eyes for a couple seconds before they popped back open again.

“You know that I’m ridiculously in love with you, right? I mean… you have to realize that right? That I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass?”

He paused with a considering smirk.

“I mean, there are other things that I would dearly love to stick up your ass… but smoke isn’t one of them. Unless that’s a kink you’re into. It’s probably not, but if it was, I wouldn’t judge. And I’d do it. I would probably laugh at you after, though. Fuck… I really want to learn your kinks. You have to have some right? Giant monster man like you? Oooooh… wall sex. We could TOTALLY do wall sex.”

He shifted to his side so he could lean into the younger man’s space and whisper into one of his perfect little ears.

“I totally want to have the wall sex with you, Sam Winchester.”

For his part, Sam snorted softly in his sleep and Gabriel grinned in response.

“I’m totally accepting that as a ‘yes’, just so you know.”

He flopped back into his original position and attempted to catch some shut-eye as well. He only opened his eyes to watch Sam sleep once or twice. Or maybe a dozen. Shut up, you don’t know.

Dean was curled up in a gigantic king bed he’d created from the ash, trying to get some sleep, when a weight shifted the mattress and he turned over to find Michael sitting there staring down at him. With a raise of his eyebrows Dean twisted over onto his back and eyed the angel.

“What’s up, Mikey?”

The archangel rolled his eyes at the name, but shifted a little anxiously once or twice in silence. He turned to eye the bed where Chuck was currently sawing logs for a second before turning back to Dean.

“I guess… I want to give you an apology.”

Shock made Dean sit up on the mattress and eye the angel with skepticism.

“Why?”

Michael huffed.

“I’m not sure, really. Maybe for getting your brothers involved in this mess. For contributing to it in the first place.”

The angel shrugged.

“I’ve spent a long time down here with my brother, Dean, and I think we both learned some things. I have realized that I am tired of all the fighting, and I really believe that he agrees with me. I think he will go along with Father’s idea of retirement. He does not regret what he did so many years ago, but perhaps he is ready to let it go. Move away from the anger and the hatred.”

Dean chuckled.

“You’re trying to tell me that Satan is really a good guy, deep down inside?”

Michael smirked and tilted his head to the side in acquiescence.

“Perhaps not good, per say, but he was an angel once. He loved our Father more than any of us… and he was right, in a way. When you think about it now. Look at what humanity has become. It’s filthy and angry and judgmental. Father’s precious humans have become murderers and hypocrites. The world now… is not what we imagined back then. Sometimes I think we should just be done with it.”

Dean shook his head a couple times before he leaned back against the headboard and grinned.

“A little harsh there, Mikey. You can’t judge all of humanity by only the worst bits of it. Are there some epically douchey assholes out there? Sure. Every corner of the globe is infected with total fuckwits that make life harder for those around them. But you can’t judge an album by that one track that fucking blows, man. You gotta listen to the record as a whole. There are some gorgeous songs on there, too. Songs about beauty, and love, and fighting the good fight. Standing up for your neighbor, defending a stranger, teaching a child. Sure, that one nasty track is all about death, destruction and hate… but sometimes… you just gotta skip that one. Ignore it. Give the rest of the album a chance. Because it can be pretty amazing, dude. Change your life kinda spiritual stuff.”

The angel gave him a mocking scoff and Dean snapped his fingers at him in response.

“I’m telling you, man… listen to the music. Like Zeppelin’s Ramble On… that’s my religious experience right there.” Dean closed his eyes and recited,

“Leaves are falling all around,
It's time I was on my way.
Thanks to you,
I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay.
But now it's time for me to go.
The autumn moon lights my way.
For now I smell the rain, and with it pain, and it's headed my way.

You gonna tell me that those aren’t the words of a prophet or a fucking saint? People who can create perfection like that? That the men who wrote those words deserve to be smited away with the rest of humanity? If you really are… then I think you need to spend a little more time among humanity, rather than looking down from your perch and judging it. Then maybe you can come find me, and we’ll debate on the merits of your Father’s creation, okay?”

The angel was eyeing him curiously as he finished speaking, but simply nodded his head in response and stood from the bed to wander back to his own sleeping area. Dean sighed as he scooted back down into a comfortable position. Right before he closed his eyes, he turned toward the bed that Chuck had settled into and was startled to find the other man staring at him. Dean raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders in a silent question, but Chuck only smiled enigmatically at him before turning over and going back to sleep.

Huh.

“Wake up you ridiculous little winged gerbil!”

Castiel nearly fell off the cot to the floor. He glanced around the room in total confusion before the frantic waving motion of Crowley’s hands clued him in to the demon standing in the doorway. Ah, yes… devil’s trap. The ex-King of Hell was unable to pass into the room of his own free will. Castiel blinked at him several times before standing up to slowly move towards the entrance.

“What is it, Crowley?”

The demon looked a little harried and disheveled.

“I need you to rally Moose and the gang. Something big is going down and I’m thinking everyone would like to be in the know.”

Castiel nodded and swished a dismissive hand at the demon.

“I will gather them. Go wait for us in the yard.”

Crowley grumbled and spun on his heel.

“Well hurry the bloody hell up. I haven’t got all day!”

Castiel slammed the bunker door closed on the demon’s retreating back. He checked all the sigils and protections in the room quickly before giving the metal box one last lingering look, and then transported himself to the room he shared with Dean in the cabin. As he changed and cleaned himself quickly, he threw out a loud ‘all hands on deck’ alert to his brothers, asking them to retrieve Bobby and Sam in the process. It was probably less than a minute all told, but when he snapped to existence in the yard the others were mere seconds behind him.

Crowley threw his hands up into the air.

“Well it’s about time!”

Gabriel groaned when he saw the demon.

“What are you doing here? Why do we have to put up with you so early in the morning?”

The demon sneered at the angel for he crossed his arms on his chest and raised one very judgmental eyebrow.

“I just thought that you lot might be interested to know that there is apparently a civil war going on in Hell at the moment.”

Four different voices erupted at the same time with dozens of shocked questions. Castiel rubbed at his eyes for a moment before he cleared his throat loud enough that everyone silenced around him.

“A civil war between whom? Can you please be a little more specific?”

Crowley nodded and began to pace a little back and forth in the middle of the dirt yard.

“Well. From what I hear… Lucifer wasn’t too pleased with Abaddon and the way she broke him out of the cage. He started ranting about traditions and propriety and the greedy whores of today’s demon youth, I’m assuming he meant me with that one… brings a tear to my eye really, and demanded that Abaddon release his Father and Brother from the cage. Apparently, there had been some major family counseling going on in the little box that he wasn’t happy being pulled out of quite yet.

“Half of Hell thinks he’s gone mad or soft and they’re backing Abaddon. The other half believes him to be the one true King of Hell and so they’re following along blindly with him. He demanded the box be brought to him last night… and what do you suppose his reaction was when he learned it was no longer there?”

Castiel grimaced and glanced to Gabriel.

“I double checked and strengthened the wards just now… no demon should be able to sense its presence here, much less be able to break into the panic room.”

The archangel nodded in agreement and shared a curious look with Sam.

“I’m more worried about whose side do we take here? I mean… Luci was pretty set on ultimate death and destruction the last time he was up here. How can we believe that he’s changed his tune? And Abaddon’s a wild card. We know absolutely nothing about her.”

Castiel chewed at his bottom lip and continued to glance back at the Singer household every now and then. He was anxious being so far from Dean, and worried about what could possibly be going on inside that box.

“I just wish we could communicate with Dean… or Father… ask them what we should do.”

“I may be able to help with that.”

Everyone startled at the sudden voice, and Castiel whipped around so quickly he almost lost his footing. Death was standing directly behind him, looking calm as could be. One of his hands held on to his cane, supporting his weight, and the other… was twirling the four rings of the horseman, connected just as they had been the last time Castiel had seen them. Right before they had opened up the entrance to the very cage they were now trying to break into. Sam shifted his feet in obvious nervousness.

“I thought… I thought that wouldn’t work again.”

Death hummed quietly under his breath and nodded his head.

“No, it won’t. Not for the same purpose as before… but it may allow me to enter into the box by myself.”

Bobby stepped forward towards the reaper and laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Can you pull Dean back out with you?”

The horseman made a curious noise as he pursed his lips in thought.

“I’m not quite sure, but if we can at least establish a form of communication… that would be satisfactory for the moment, wouldn’t you agree?”

Sam, Bobby and Castiel all nodded vigorously in response.

“Very well then. I shall return.”

With that, the horsemen dropped the joined rings on the ground and the gaping, sucking hole to the cage opened up in the middle of the yard. Sam took a quick step backwards and even Castiel could feel the anxiety and fear rolling off the younger man. Gabriel snatched up the hunter’s hand in a tight grip and that seemed to calm him a little. Castiel watched the entire exchange from the corner of his eye as he continued to concentrate on the angel of death before them. Calm as can be, the horseman simply stepped forward into the abyss and was instantly sucked away. The hole closed up directly behind him, but unlike last time… the joined rings were not waiting for them on the ground to be retrieved.

Bobby took a couple steps forward in the ensuing silence before he pulled the dirty, old baseball cap from the top of his head and rubbed at his hair.

“Well…dammit.”

Castiel waited for a few seconds more before he transported himself directly down into the bunker. The box was in the same place as he’d left it. A seemingly non-descript hunk of metal resting against the side of the pillow on the old army cot where the angel had been asleep. He sighed wearily and sat back down beside it. Slowly all his other companions filtered into the room after him. Save for Crowley, who perched himself in the doorway and glared at them in disdain.

“Shall we have a tea party?”

Balthazar had several choice words in response to the demon’s mumbling, but Castiel ignored them in favor of keeping his gaze steadfast on the box beside him.

It had already been a couple months inside the cage and Dean was starting to get a little worried. Granted, he understood that time moved differently between here and home, but he hadn’t thought it would take this long for someone to get him out. He worried, too… about Cas not taking care of himself. About Sam thinking that he was gone for good. About Gabe and Bal staying with the family to take care of them. Bobby’s health. Jody’s dangerous job.

There wasn’t anything else to do, really, besides think and worry and listen to Michael ramble on at Chuck. Fuck, the dude was such a dweeb. At least the open hostility had stopped, but it was all ‘Father this’ and ‘Father that’ all times of the day. Jesus. No wonder Chuck had bailed on the little prissy pants. Dean would have smote him years ago, but whatevs… not his kid. Not his angel.

He was currently building a replica of the Impala out of ash to entertain himself. Not sure why he hadn’t thought of it before really, it was fucking awesome. Once his fake Baby was finished he was going to sit inside her and pretend he could hear his music playing and that Sam was in the seat beside him sleeping. He’d tried to make some ash statues of Cas and Sam at one point, but they’d just been too dark and Michael Jackson-creepy for his tastes… so he’d let the ash flutter back in a cloud to the floor.

Dean sighed as he worked on creating the exact right muffler for his baby.

So fucking bored.

He glanced over at Chuck and Michael. He was pretty sure they were in a deep, existential conversation about the future of the bumble bees and how mankind is fucking that shit right up. Dean agreed, obviously… but he already had plans for that. He was totally making bees indestructible when he got out of here. In fact, there was a lot of shit he’d been thinking about in his captivity. First order of business… bees. (He figured Cas would really appreciate it… plus… food. Important shit, that.) Next order of business… trees. They need more. Dean likes breathing air. Figures it’s pretty important. So he needed to take care of that, too.

As he finished the Impala’s hood, he surreptitiously glanced at Chuck again. Wondered what else he could get away with before Chuck got all preachy about the way things are done. Fuck that. Really… if Dean’s gonna be God, and Chuck is all about the ‘new regime’ and ‘youth taking over’ … then Dean was gonna be a God that people would be proud to follow. He was going to make that world a better place in any way he could. Even for the people that didn’t believe in him. No skin off his back.

Dean tilted his head as he made sure to get the rear view mirror just right. He wondered if he could disband the Westboro Baptist Church. Should only take a single visit, right? Hello fellas, I’m God… by the way have you met my male angel lover? God’s bisexual, you fuckers! BOOM! Take that! He snickered at his own thoughts as he tweaked the steering wheel to make it perfect.

When he was about to lean forward through the car window and work on the dash… as sudden wind whipped through the darkness and scattered the Impala to bits before him. Dean huffed in annoyance, but then froze when he could barely make out a figure moving towards him in the haze.

“Chuuuuuuuck… Mikey… get your little feathery asses over here!”

Michael instantly began to sputter and bitch about appropriate phrasing and respect, blah blah blah, but Dean just tuned him out as he concentrated on the form. It slowly, slowly took the shape of a person and Dean stepped back in caution. He felt his companions move close to him just as he could finally make out exactly who approached them.

“Holy fuck!!! You asshole!”

With a smile splitting his face, Dean launched himself at the Grim Reaper and tangled him into a hug. For his part the horseman stood perfectly still with a long-suffering look on his countenance. Dean smacked him happily on the back several times before taking a step away and grabbing the man by his spindly shoulders.

“It’s really fucking good to see you, man! I’d offer you food… but all we got is ash, and I promise you it doesn’t look very appetizing. Not even sure what it’s made of really. Could be the bodies of the innocents for all we know. Or unicorns. Anyone’s guess.”

Okay, so he was rambling. Sue him. He couldn’t really help it. It was just such a relief to see someone besides the two boring fuddy-duddies behind him. Plus… Death was from outside! Maybe there was an escape plan a-brewing.

The horseman cleared his throat and attempted to wipe some dust from his suit in distaste. Hah! Good luck buddy… this shit didn’t come off. Dean knew. He’d been trying for months. Everything on his person was currently a shade of ash. Even his hair. (Don’t even ask about the private bits, okay. You don’t really want to know.)

“As much as it delights me, truly, that you seem so pleased to see me… I would ask you to please refrain from any… hugging… in the future.”

Dean cackled at the deadpan tone, and simply shrugged his shoulders in response. He turned back to glance at his companions. Michael had a sort of dumb-struck look to his face, and Chuck looked about as enthusiastic as Sammy at a classic rock concert. Oh… right… God and Death didn’t really get along very well, did they? The horseman had mentioned that before. Dean turned back to the reaper and grinned.

“How did you get in here? Can we get out the same way?”

Death was eyeing the surrounding nothingness with speculation.

“I’m not sure about that yet. I used the rings to get inside because there is a matter of much import that we needed your, and your predecessor’s, opinion urgently.”

Chuck finally stepped up to stand beside Dean.

“What’s going on? Is it Lucifer?”

The reaper snorted with disdain.

“Indeed. It appears that he was none too pleased at the way things have been handled since he was returned to the cage, and instead of welcoming Abaddon’s assistance… he’s declared war on her. Hell has been divided between two factions, and your insolent oldest whelp is demanding the box be brought to him so that he may set you free.”

Dean crossed his arms tightly and rolled his shoulders.

“Okay, well… that’s… not too bad, I guess.”

Death tilted his head in consideration.

“I don’t suppose it would be… had your little Castiel not squirreled the box away to a place where no one but he and your other angels could get to it. So now the Morning Star is ripping the underworld apart looking for this very cage as we speak. Your group, as a whole, is uncertain to which action they should take. Crowley has heard demons gossiping that Lucifer has had a change of heart… but should we trust that and side with him? Or is it all a trap?”

Dean grunted and turned to raise an eyebrow at Chuck.

“Dude, I have no answer for this. Thoughts?”

Chuck was sort of staring off into the middle distance in silence. It was several moments before he spoke.

“We need to get out of this cage. Hell needs to be set right. This can’t continue as it is.”

Dean rolled his head back in exasperation.

“Well, duh, Chuck… but we’ve been stuck in here for months trying to get out. How is a little bit of news from home going to change this?”

The smaller man grimaced.

“Because there was something I was holding back suggesting until desperate times called for it.”

Dean’s arms dropped away from his chest and he gaped at the other man.

“I’m … not going to like this, am I?”

Chuck shrugged his shoulders and gave him a nervous smile.

“Um… probably not?”

Sam was pacing the bunker with Gabriel following right in his footsteps. He’d already chewed his fingernails down to nubs, and Gabe was slapping his hands away every time he tried to tug at his hair. Death had been gone for nearly an hour and Sam was trying to convert that to the time the horseman had probably spent in the universe of the cage. What the hell was taking so long? What could possibly be going on inside the box that couldn’t be resolved instantly out here?

He spun suddenly on his heel to walk in the opposite direction and slammed right into Gabe who immediately grabbed at his elbows and forced him to still.

“Sam, you’re making me dizzy. Balthy is about to staple your feet to the floor… and I think you’ve made Crowley cry.”

“Oh, fuck you, you little twit.”

Gabe ignored the demon and began to rub his hands gently up and down the (holy shit nicely) muscled arms of the younger man.

“You need to calm down, big guy. Give the creepy horseman of death a chance to do what he can do. We’ll start to worry if he isn’t back by tomorrow, okay?”

Sam shook his head frantically.

“No, you don’t understand… a month out here is like, ten years in there. So that’s, what… average of thirty days to ten years which basically means three days here is a year in there? So that’s seventy-two hours to twelve months, seventy-two divided by twelve is six… so he’s been gone for one hour out here but it’s been six months in the box, Gabe! He’s been in the box for six fucking months! What the hell could be happening inside that would require that amount of time? I need to know if my brother is okay. I need to know what he wants us to do! I need to-”

Not really knowing what else to do to bring a halt to the ramble, Gabriel’s hands shot up to snag Sam’s head and yank it downwards so he could smash his lips against the younger man’s. All the talking in the room ceased around them and Sam’s eyes shot impossibly wide as he stared at Gabriel from mere inches away. When he felt the hunter’s tension start to ease, the angel released him and pulled his lips away. Sam blinked at him for several seconds before he seemed to come back to himself and lick at his lips. Gabriel smirked and shrugged.

“I like this method of shutting you up. I may have to try it again. Often. Across a variety of horizontal surfaces.”

“Oh, please… can I just go down to Abaddon now? Ask her to put me out of my misery?”

Several voices resounded around the room simultaneously hollering at Crowley to shut up, when another voice spoke up from behind Sam.

“What a lovely get-together we seem to be having. Shame I missed it.”

Sam spun around and opened his mouth to demand (or… politely request… he wasn’t crazy) an explanation as to the length of time the reaper had been gone… when he realized that the horseman wasn’t alone. A sheepish looking Chuck and an arrogantly stanced Adam (no… no obviously not Adam, Michael then) were flanking the reaper and nearly filling the room to capacity. Sam took a cautious step forward.

“Chuck! You’re … here!”

The shorter man smiled warmly and moved forward to wrap Sam into a tight hug. For a couple seconds the younger man forgot all about Chuck being anything but a simple prophet and friend and clung tightly to him. When they released each other, Sam immediately glanced around the room to spot Dean… but his brother wasn’t there. Castiel was still eyeing the box forlornly.

“I don’t understand… Chuck… how are you out here? Is Dean still stuck inside?”

Chuck smirked and slapped Sam playfully on the arm.

“It’s a bit of a long story, and we really haven’t the time. Right now… we really need to get that box to Lucifer.”

Dean sat in the re-created ash Impala and marveled at the stillness of the place now that he was alone. With nothing but the sound of your own breath and heartbeat to keep you company… he could only imagine how easy it would be to go insane inside this place. He fiddled with the fake radio of his fake Baby… even though there was no music coming from the speakers. Something golden flickered across his hands and he moved his gaze to look at it.

Little sparkles of power were shimmering across his skin like sunlit waves on a white sand beach. His skin was clean and pure, not a trace of the dusty ash remained on him. He sighed softly and created little tracks of lightening between his fingers as he wiggled them. He sure hoped that Chuck knew what the hell he was doing… because everything felt weird. Odd and strange and … more… than he was used to.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not following what you’re trying to tell me here, Chuck, because you can’t actually be saying what it is I think you’re saying.”

The older man smiled warmly and patted Dean on the side.

“Why not? I’ve been steadily leaking my grace into you the last year… consider this just a big sort of… level up right before the last boss battle.”

Dean groaned at him.

“Man… you know I’m not the gamer. That’s Sam’s shit. I’m just not sure if I’m ready for this much at once. And what about you? You’re saying that you’re going cold turkey? That gonna work for you?”

Chuck grinned and shook his head.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m made of Grace. I wouldn’t exist without it… so I’ll always have enough still with me to do what I need to do.”

Dean tilted his head to side-eye Michael standing passively beside him.

“And Fortunate Son, here? He gonna be okay with all this?”

Michael rolled his eyes like a dramatic teenager before he crossed his arms tightly and sneered in Dean’s general direction.

“Father wishes me to retire… so I will retire. I, for one, have no problems following the commands set forth to me by the Almighty.”

Dean blew a raspberry at the angel.

“Kiss ass.”

The Grim Reaper spoke up from where he had been dallying off to the side, using his cane to trace out swirling designs in the ash at their feet.

“If you don’t mind, gentlemen, please remember that time passes much quicker on the outside of this box than it does within. I have already been gone for far too long in comparison and any number of things might have happened in my absence.”

Dean groaned as he planted his feet shoulder width apart and steadiest himself.

“Well let’s try and get this over with then. Crazy fucked up plan that it is.”

He released all of the power already held within his grace and allowed his wings to burst forth in a spray of light and wind. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the reaper’s eyes widening upon noticing the third set of golden wings high on Dean’s shoulders.

“I’ll get you one later.”

Death grinned devilishly and nodded his head.

“If we survive this, remind me to harass you endlessly about the feather fangirling, big guy.”

Now the horseman just rolled his eyes and settled into the ash armchair Dean had created for him. Before he could say anything else, Michael stepped up right in front of Dean with a glare of indifference on his vessel’s young face. Dean had a worrying thought suddenly.

“You’re sure Adam’s not in there any more, right? He’s not going to feel anything? Or be stuck in here?”

The tension on the angel’s face softened somewhat and he shook his head.

“I promise you, Dean Winchester, that Adam Milligan has departed this body and is residing in Heaven with his mother and your father.”

He couldn’t help the loud cackle that burst forth from him at those words.

“Oh man… if he’s with dad and his mom and MY mom is there too… my old man is gonna have some harsh love thrown his way from some very strong-willed women.”

Dean shook his head in humor.

“Man… wish I could witness that.”

Michael tilted his head in confusion for a moment, but seemed to let his curiosity go for now.

“If this works… you will be able to see them whenever you want, you know.”

Dean blinked a couple times.

“Well. Yeah, maybe. Not sure if I’ll be ready for that particular reunion any time soon, though.”

Before the other man could say anything else on the matter, Dean lifted his arms and held out his hands, palms up, toward the angel.

“Come on, Mikey, let’s do this thing. Gimme your juice.”

The archangel grimaced (presumably at the word choice) but placed his hands lightly on top of the humans’. He cleared his throat and nodded once in the direction of the All Father.

“Very well. My grace is yours.”

There was an eerie stillness for a few seconds before a roaring wave of pain and light crashed over Dean’s entire body and he whited out for a moment. When he came to, Michael was kneeling on the ground before him, panting harshly through his mouth and slick with clammy sweat. Dean tried to bend forward and offer assistance, but he realized quickly that he was frozen in place like a statue. He couldn’t even blink his eyes or open his mouth to speak.

He was about to delve into a full blown freak out over the matter, when Chuck stepped into his line of sight and smiled at him warmly.

“Don’t worry. It’s okay. Your body is just adjusting to the rapid increase of grace. I’m monitoring it carefully. I’ll let you recover for a bit before we move on to the next step.”

The older man smirked suddenly.

“On the plus side… you should see your wings now. You’ve got a fourth pair.”

If he had been capable of movement or speech, Dean might have screeched at him about that. How the fuck many sets of wings did he need anyway? They were going to be so cumbersome soon that he wouldn’t be able to use them for anything fun anymore.

Then he wondered what color this set was.

“Silver.”

Chuck with the fucking mind reading.

Dean closed his eyes for a while and allowed himself to slip away into his thoughts. The drumming of new power in his veins wasn’t painful, per say… but there was definitely an awareness of it. Of the rapid growth in strength. An innate knowledge of new abilities. He’s pretty sure that he could move a mountain now, literally. And there’s this burning itch in his right hand that tells him, when he’s ready, that he’ll be able to summon his very own angel blade. One that is wide and heavy like a broadsword… and burning with a cleansing fire.

He felt a little righteous fury, too, truth be told. The need to slay the enemies of his Father and reprimand the weak and faithless.

“Fuck’s sake, Mikey… I think you infected me with your personality like a bad STD.”

From somewhere nearby he heard Chuck laugh softly and Michael growl at him weakly. It hit Dean then, truly, that the archangel Michael didn’t exist anymore. He was just a human being with the face of Dean’s little half-brother. All his power was now coursing through Dean’s veins and prepping him for the BIG plan that Chuck had cobbled together.

They were all so fucked.

****************

Castiel carried the box that still held Dean inside like it was a delicate spun-sugar statue. He was too nervous about the fact that Dean’s life was literally resting in his hands at the moment. The angel wished that he could whisper to the metal sides and know that his lover could hear him, but he was too embarrassed by the thought to inquire it of his Father. He turned to glance at the group of beings that flanked him as he walked slowly down an abandoned street towards a crossroads.

His Father and Brothers were to his left, a demon, a horseman and two human hunters to his right. Such an odd little family that had circled itself around Dean Winchester. Castiel’s gaze returned forward and his steps slowed. They had arrived. The crossroads were innocuous and obviously forgotten completely by the world around. Surprisingly enough, Crowley had insisted they use the same location he and Dean had battled so many months previous.

“More of an echo of power there now, lovelies.”

That had apparently been explanation enough for his Father, and so here they stood. Castiel cut a sideways glance toward Michael. His once powerful brother was a shell of his former self. All that remained was a small spark of grace that held him inside the vessel once known as Adam Milligan. Sam had questioned the archangel extensively about Adam whereabouts, to which Michael had exploded with agitation, ranting about Winchesters and their annoying ability to pester. That seemed to set Sam at ease some. Castiel supposed it was proof enough for the younger man that his brother was still himself, even locked up tight in Lucifer’s cage.

When he stopped walking, Sam came straight up to Castiel’s side and settled himself at his shoulder. The angel supposed that it was an obvious showing of solidarity. Balthazar, Gabriel and Bobby immediately did the same and Castiel fought back the urge to smile. Wondered if Dean had any idea how much his family of choice loved and supported him. The angel felt another presence at his other side, and was a little shocked to turn and find the angel of death standing so close to him. He hadn’t really believed Dean when he had explained that the Grim Reaper had ‘firmly entrenched himself in Camp Winchester’ … but the proof was there. It made Castiel wonder what it was that the horseman saw in Dean’s future. He definitely hadn’t seemed this invested in the current God’s dealings.

“Okay, boys… are we sure this is how we want to go about doing this?”

Castiel turned towards Crowley and was not surprised to find the demon backing away from them. Father sighed in resignation as Michael snorted derisively in Crowley’s general direction.

“You only have to do your part, Crowley, and then you can scamper away. You’ve made your deal with Dean, and you know he won’t go back on it. But if you double cross us in any way, I can’t guarantee the amount of angelic wrath that would be directed towards you.”

The demon cackled a little maniacally.

“Oh, trust me, mate… I’ve danced with the Winchester fanclub often enough. I have no doubts.”

With those last words Crowley flickered out of sight and Sam spoke up beside Castiel.

“Alright, so things are in motion. What now?”

Castiel turned towards his Father and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Chuck smiled at him and gestured towards the center of the crossroads.

“Go put the box down, Castiel.”

Fear clenched at the angel’s heart for a moment, but he turned to do as his Father requested of him. It felt wrong to place the metal box on the ground and step away. It physically pained his chest to not have his hands upon the cage that held his lover tight. A small whine of distress left him as he stepped back towards his brothers. Balthazar responded to it by butting his shoulder up against Castiel’s and giving him a reassuring grin.

A loud crack of thunder made them all jump. (With the exception of Death, Castiel doubted that there was much that could catch the horseman unawares.) Blackening clouds began to form and billow towards them, blotting out the sun and dropping the temperature instantly. There was another clap of thunder and then a snap of lighting… and suddenly Lucifer was standing in the middle of the crossroads idly staring down to the box at his feet.

Castiel gasped and moved to step forward, but Balthazar held him in place. In his periphery, he could see Gabriel doing the same to Sam. Lucifer was once again wearing the vessel he’d had prior to Sam, however the poor soul’s body was even more deteriorated now. Flesh on his cheeks haven fallen away, and bone poking through here and there on his arms and fingers. Castiel heard Sam’s nervous swallow beside him, felt his brother Gabriel stepping protectively in front of the hunter.

“It’s such a small little thing for the enormity of what it is, don’t you think?”

The voice was fairly… pleasant. Calm and rational. Not at all like the last time Castiel had been near this particular brother, regardless of what vessel he had currently been occupying.

“I must confess… it’s a bit of a letdown visually after having detesting it and fearing it for so long. Just a bit of junk.”

The Morning Star lifted a heavy boot-clad foot to rest on top the metal box.

“So disappointing.”

He started to lean forward as if to crush the box with force and Castiel lurched towards him, but Balthazar’s arms held him tight.

“NOOOO!!”

Lucifer, surprisingly, froze… and raised his eyes to meet Castiel’s. The angel’s heart was hammering between his ribs in fear as the Devil smirked.

“Oh? Is there someone still left inside, then?”

Castiel heard himself whining in distress, but could not keep the noise from bubbling out of him. Lucifer opened his mouth again to speak, but was interrupted when Michael and the Father stepped out from behind the group of angels. Chuck’s lips were pursed with disapproval.

“That’s enough of that.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened and his back straightened in surprise.

“Michael… Father. I knew you weren’t inside the box, but I couldn’t sense you here-”

The fallen angel’s eyes narrowed suspiciously in Michael’s direction.

“Brother… what have you done?”

Michael crossed his arms tightly against this chest and tilted his head back just enough so that it appeared he was looking down his nose at his brother. Lucifer visibly bristled.

“I have done as Father requested of me. Will you do the same?”

The devil’s gaze returned to the box where his foot still rested, but the look on his face was much more contemplative this time.

“You gave it up… for Winchester? The little piss-ant with the martyr complex?”

Sam was growling very disrespectful and violent things under his breath, but Gabriel was keeping the younger man calm and controlled for the most part. Bobby had his arms crossed and was sneering in the general direction of the devil, and Death’s features were twisted in a subtle look of distaste. Castiel took a deep breath and straightened himself within Balthazar’s grip.

“The Righteous Man who has saved the world numerous times with his brother, including besting you, and has since become the Chosen to lead the Heavenly Host upon Father’s departure. That is what you meant to say, is it not?”

Beside Castiel, Balthazar snickered and patted him once on the back before releasing him from his hold. Lucifer’s eyes were full of delighted intrigue. A tiny smile lifted the edges of his mouth.

“Oh, Castiel… the little soldier speaks up. Did I disrespect your man?”

Before anyone could respond to the Devil’s taunt, the ground shuddered beneath their feet. Even Lucifer froze as a ripple of power and rage washed over them all. Chuck groaned and took a couple steps towards the center of the crossroads.

“We don’t have time to bicker. You know why I wanted you here. You know what I’ve asked of you. Are you prepared to do it?”

The ground quaked and screeched in protest as large fissures began to split the earth around them. Lucifer considered their Father for a few seconds before he slowly nodded his head in response. Chuck smiled warmly at the fallen angel and Castiel could have sworn he heard Michael sniffle a little from the other side of Balthazar.

One giant fissure cracked open right at the edge of the crossroads and immediately huge plumes of demon smoke began to pour from it. As it touched the ground, one by one, demons began to pop up as if out of nowhere. Hundreds and hundreds of them. Eye’s glittering black and faces filled with malice. A dark shape wove between the hordes of demons, just out of sight, but the smooth voice reached them easy enough.

“Well, well, well … quite the little family reunion we have here, isn’t it?”

Lucifer groaned and crossed his arms loosely before himself.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake… I was really hoping to have gotten away from this bitch and her self-righteous mutterings about proper demonic behavior. As if I didn’t create demons to begin with!”

A tall, imposing female suddenly stepped out into the open. Her bright red lips and red hair stood out in contrast to the swirling black mass of demons behind her. She wore a fitted red satin dress and a string of black pearls around her neck, and Castiel considered that she would have been quite lovely if it wasn’t for her true demon face shining through the vessel’s flesh. This was obviously Abaddon.

“You are a disappointment as King! Just as was that floundering fool of a crossroads demon that had infested Hell in your absence.”

Lucifer sneered at her, but didn’t speak up as Abaddon continued.

“Hell has fallen into disarray and disgrace. I worked hard to free you from your prison so that you could once again take up the mantle and return us to glory, but you have gone soft in your captivity with your fool family. It is time… for a regime change.”

With barely a flick of her hair to signal them, the demons descended upon them. Castiel released his grace to bring his sword to his hand and killed the first demon that came in range. He edged himself back towards his Father and Michael, worried about his brother’s new human state. His brothers delved quickly into the fight, as did Sam and Bobby, and slowly their group backed together to form a tight ring.

Castiel was so focused on defending his portion of the protective circle, that he hadn’t really paid attention to the fact that they were slowly backing towards the crossroads and Lucifer. The devil himself was snarling and dispatching demons with his bare hands, the metal box of the cage securely on the ground between his feet. It bothered Cas more than he could rightfully express that he was now apparently on the same side of the Fallen Son, and that same once-angel was currently protecting the one person Castiel couldn’t live without.

In a moment of distraction, Cas felt a demon slip by him and raise a blade to plunge it into his back… when suddenly Death was there. The horseman merely tapped the demon with his finger and vessel and all disintegrated into dust. Death turned toward the angel for a brief second with a disapproving ‘tsk’ before he returned to his casual stance beside the Father.

More and more demons were pushing in on the small group from all sides and Cas could feel his brothers tiring around him. Bobby was already hunched over and panting heavily inside the circle, surprisingly being supported by Michael. A rush of air split the space between Castiel and Sam. It was followed by a bright bloom of pain in the angel’s shoulder. He cried out in shock at the same moment Sam screamed in agony and a fresh waft of iron and copper filled the air. To Sam’s other side, Gabriel roared in anger and thrust forward to impale the demon who had injured the younger Winchester. Castiel could only spare a brief glance to assess the damage. There was a deep gash along his upper arm that had shredded his jacket and was bleeding at a fairly alarming rate. A quick tick up of his gaze showed Sam with a mirrored injury beside him. This fight was not going as well as they had hoped.

A near-deafening screech of pure malice caused angel and demon alike to flinch. It would seem as though Lucifer and Abaddon were battling head-to-head very nearby. Castiel took a sudden blow to the belly and stumbled back into Michael and Bobby. The former archangel gripped him tight at the elbow and whispered frantically in his ear.

“Just a few more moments, brother… do not give up.”

Castiel could only nod and weakly throw himself back into the fight. As he plunged his angel blade deep into the throat of the demon that had tried to gut him a sudden, unbidden, image popped into his mind. Dean. With his beautiful wings arched out behind him as he had flown so gracefully through the valley of the Grand Canyon. Castiel pulled all his grace into himself and with a cry of rage and a burst of power he manifested his wings and spread them wide. A surge of energy shot through him and his wings seemed to crackle with lightening at his back. The demons nearest him vaporized when the feathers touched them.

The battle fell silent for a few seconds before Gabriel gave a ‘WHOOP’ of excitement. Beside him, his brothers manifested their own wings and cried out in delighted surprise when they seemed to spark with power and destroy the demons on contact, just as Castiel’s had done. Gabriel’s three sets of golden wings crowded Sam back into the protective circle and soon only Dean’s three angels, with their wings spread wide, were the outer circle. Out of nowhere the Father’s voice rang out across the crossroads.

“Lucifer! Open the box!”

Castiel was afraid that his fallen brother would ignore the demands of their Father, and then all of this would have been for naught. However, only a moment after Chuck’s outcry there was a rending screech of metal… and the world exploded into light.

Sam was gasping for breath as he leaned up against Bobby, temporarily protected behind that massive halo of gold that appeared to be Gabriel’s wings. He was gripping his upper arm, warm blood pouring through his fingers.

“Sam! You okay, kid?”

He could only nod mutely at Bobby, still too busy trying to catch his breath from the demon free-for-all. He glanced up at the older man to make sure he wasn’t harmed too seriously. He, Bobby, Michael and Chuck were inside the tight circle that the angels and the horseman created. (To be fair, though, Death was just standing there twirling his cane. No demons were even coming close to him.)

He strained to catch sight of Lucifer and Abaddon. They were locked together in battle, faces both contorted with snarls and black blades in their hands. Obviously both were desperately trying to detach their opponent’s heads from their shoulders. Sam tried to see the box at their feet, but wasn’t able to make out anything past a couple sets of scuffling demons. A hand suddenly gripped his elbow but before he could turn around, Chuck cried out from behind him.

“Lucifer! Open the box!”

Sam only had the chance to see the devil turning towards their little group for a second before he was out of sight. He tried to raise his head to see more when hands came from behind him to cover his eyes and push him towards the ground. He could feel Bobby receiving the same treatment beside him and then Michael was leaning against him and whispering frantically in Adam’s voice.

“Keep your eyes closed! Don’t open them! No matter what happens!”

He opened his mouth to demand a reason… when the world exploded into a horrible white-noise.

Dean’s head fell back with a soft ‘thunk’ against the fake interior of fake-baby.

“Booooooooored.”

He could sense there were several things going on outside the box, but he was stuck inside and unable to do anything about it. It was driving him freaking nuts. He just kept clicking his fingers and tapping them along the ash console in a weak imitation of music. (He couldn’t get the ash to compact enough to create a decent thump.)

A power surge practically exploded on the outside of the box and he shot to his feet. The ash impala crumbled back to powder around him as the feeling of his angels grew stronger and clearer. The battle was still muted into background noise… but he had a greater sense of Cas, Gabe and Bal. He wondered what in the world they could have done for that to happen.

“Come on. Come ooooooooooooooon…”

Dean bounced anxiously on the balls of his feet. He just wanted to be out there. He knew the plan. Understood the concept. Didn’t like the reality. Didn’t like his family fighting out there with him stuck inside this fucking box. Agitation was creeping up his spine like a cancer. He’d sensed worry, fear and pain leaking in from those he held closest to his heart, and being stuck inside this cage had him fit to burst.

“COME ON, ALREADY!”

He started to pull power. If they weren’t going to release him from this box soon he would fucking escape it himself. He pulled and pulled and pulled. The power from the cage itself added to the grace already thrumming through his veins. The ground beneath his feet began to rumble and shake. Clouds of ash began to swirl around him like dust-devils through a field. Dean released his wings and felt them explode from his back in a fury of light and power. He was gritting his teeth with frustration, silently begging for it to be time already.

Come on, Chuck! Let me out!

Almost immediately after thinking those words, there was a horrible screeching sound that echoed from all around him. There was a dark feeling… something blood red and angry that he quickly realized felt like Lucifer, and then a crack in the box appeared. It wasn’t visual. There was no dramatic rending of metal with a light shining through, something just… changed. And the cage was broken.

“Fucking finally!”

Dean let himself surge. Not in any direction in particular, just … outward. He felt the box strain against him for a mere instant before it shattered into a million fragments. Then the life force of the earth was flooding back into him and opened himself up fully and allowed it. Old asphalt and dirt bit into his bare feet but he ignored it as the world white-washed around him and his power continued to build. He couldn’t halt the surge he had released and felt his grace continue to grow exponentially. There was only white noise in his ears and a sense of heaviness… of weighted girth that he couldn’t understand.

Dean opened his mouth to speak and released a lion’s roar instead. It bellowed from his chest and he could feel the echo of it deep in his bones. Through the white haze of his grace he could make out the trees bend and shake at the power of his voice. Although… they seemed awfully small to be trees, on second thought.

DEAN.

He blinked his eyes and tilted his head questioningly.

Chuck?

His wings flared out behind him, all four sets full grown and massive now, feathers fluttering in agitation. He couldn’t make out enough details beyond the white. He couldn’t see his family.

CALM YOURSELF. CLEAR YOUR SENSES. AND PLEASE DON’T STEP ON US.

What?

Dean attempted to do as he was told. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, concentrating on the sudden stillness and silence around him. When he opened his eyes again… he could see far into the horizon… but everything looked so… small. Tiny and delicate. The trees around him were like toy miniatures. He tried to say ‘huh’… he’s pretty sure that’s what he meant, but instead a deep rumbling growl split the air and the ground trembled under his feet. He looked down.

And that was a fucking eye-opener right there. Because down… was WAY down. He could make out his family and the demons surrounding them, but they were nothing more than ants to the size he was apparently at that moment. The battle had come to a frozen standstill as he stared down at the crossroads below. There was this strange knowledge, that if he only turned his head a certain way, he would be able to see much clearer. He listened to the instinct. It felt as though his face actually shifted. Then he was staring out from new eyes. Ones that could see every detail, every hair on Sam’s head so far below him.

His brother was being shielded below by Bobby and Michael. All their eyes squeezed tightly shut for some reason. Balthazar was staring up at Dean, mouth gaped open and a completed stunned look on his face. Gabriel appeared much the same. Beside him, Castiel had tears freely flowing down his dirty, blood-flecked cheeks. But the angel didn’t seem sad. Dean cocked his head to question his lover’s tears, but this time when he tried to speak the high-pitched cry of an eagle flew from his mouth. Sam and Bobby immediately covered their ears and Dean worried that he’d hurt them somehow.

Dean. The demons. Abaddon. Set things to rights, remember?

He remembered. With a blink of his eyes and the flick of a wing, all the demons below him vanished back to Hell. Abaddon stood alone, mouth agape and staring up at Dean in obvious horror. He chirped at her. A simple sound that (to him) was an obvious ‘fuck you bitch, how you like me now?’… but he doubted she could actually understand him. After considering her for a moment, he flicked a wing and sent the Knight of Hell hurtling back into the Dark Ages. She would probably have a fabulous time. All those lovely plagues and witch burnings.

With Abaddon’s disappearance, the people still at his feet seemed to calm and unwind a bit. Dean’s gaze turned back to the horizon, his new eyes showing the towns, the people, and the roads all around him. Stretching out into infinity. He tipped his head back to glance Heavenward and was shocked at the view he beheld. The planets and stars and galaxies were all right there for him to see. Twinkling against the ink black sky of space… and he wanted to go. He wanted to go see so badly. Wanted to soar through that infinity and touch the stars. He lifted his great wings in preparation to beat them downwards and to leave this silly little planet behind.

No! DEAN! NOT YET!

That pesky voice buzzed in his brain like a tiny little moth. He screeched at it in dismissal. It didn’t understand how he was needed in the Heavens, in the stars. The time for fanciful moths was over.

DEAN! NOT YET! THINK OF SAM! THINK OF CASTIEL! YOUR FAMILY!

He paused. Family? Turned his gaze away from the sky and back to the scattered group of people at his feet. The angels were watching him nervously with disbelief as the humans remained tightly sheltered beneath them. The horseman of Death and the Morning Star stood at the fringes of the group, obviously curious but visually indifferent. And the All Father was staring at him with an intense scrutiny narrowing his eyes.

It’s not time for you to go up there yet, Dean? Remember? I promised you decades yet.

Something familiar and aggravating was poking at his mind. A memory trying to pop up and reacquaint itself. Of a cabin with a spiral staircase and a comfortable bed with pale orange sheets. Home, he realized suddenly… goddammit that’s HOME. With a monumental amount of effort, Dean began to pull the grace back inside himself and tuck it away. Almost immediately the ground began to rush toward him at an alarming rate. With a final tug, he released the manifestation of his wings and stumbled forward… only to be caught up instantly within Castiel’s arms.

“Dean!”

His head was throbbing with a mix of pain and vertigo, but Dean had no problem winding his arms tightly around his angel and gasping out a sigh of relief.

“Cas.”

Gabriel was chuckling softly as he helped pull Sam to his feet and Dean released the tension from his shoulders when he could see that his brother was safe and sound. When he pulled back out of Cas’ arms, Dean rubbed at his temples as he turned towards Chuck.

“What… the fuck was that, Chuck?”

The smaller man grinned and lifted a single shoulder with a shrug.

“Just a bit of true form character bleed. You were thinking about heading up to the host.”

Dean groaned.

“True form. Fantastic. Did I look like an idiot?”

Lucifer and Death let out matching snorts of amusement, which had them eyeing each other distrustfully, but Castiel’s face lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“Dean! You were so beautiful! There must have been a dozen faces! A lion! An eagle! A zebra! I think one might have been a German Sheppard… but perhaps it was a wolf. A wolf would be much more regal. So I’m sure it was a wolf. Although German Sheppards are very noble animals, as well. And your halo! It was the largest I’ve ever seen, even larger than Gabriel’s in true form!”

There was a muffled shout from nearby that sounded awfully similar to Gabe muttering about size not mattering, but Dean was too enamored with watching Cas’ eyes light up with wonder as he babbled on about what Dean had apparently looked like. He could feel the fond smile on his lips, but just couldn’t seem to tamp it down.

“And your wings! Four sets now! So lovely!”

Finally a loud groan of disdain brought a halt to Cas’ verbal stampede, and everyone turned slowly towards Lucifer. The fallen angel was standing in a slouch with his arms crossed tightly and his head dropped back in what, for all intents and purposes to Dean, looked like an overly dramatic pout.

“Could someone please put out the gay little angel’s Winchester boner? If I have to listen to another minute of this drivel I may just kill everyone here on principle.”

Chuck sighed and opened his mouth to speak, but Dean had already taken a step towards the Devil, a snarl of distaste marring his face.

“What was that, asshat? It was hard to make out over all the whining you do.”

Lucifer growled and dropped his arms to his sides.

“I said that your little fanclub is a joke. Your whole fucking family is a joke. Sam was worth something once, but now he’s just another sad little meat-sack waiting to be snuffed out. Overrated and worthless. Just. Like. His. Big. Brother.”

Dean was up in the devil’s face before anyone could blink an eye.

“Don’t you tempt me, you son of a bitch. Chuck is willing to give you another chance cuz he’s trying to redeem his failings as a Father-”

“Wow. Thanks, Dean.”

“- but I am the fucking big dog on campus now, you rotting sack of shit. I am in charge. And you don’t have to like me and my family, but you’re going to fucking respect us, and you’re going to keep your mouth shut. Or I swear to fucking … ME… that I will literally turn you into an asshat. A hat… made out… of asses. Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?”

Lucifer was just grinning happily at him when Dean finished. He responded to the end of the tirade with an indifferent shrug and a wink. Dean narrowed his eyes at the fallen angel and brought up a finger to jab threateningly in his face.

“Made out of asses.”

Then he spun on his heel and stalked back to Chuck.

“Buddy, wherever you’re planning on going with these two… you better get … because I cannot promise I won’t wipe him off every plane of existence if he snarks at me one more time.”

The smaller man only smiled before wrapping Dean up in a tight hug and patting him on the back a couple times.

“I’ll get them out of your hair. Don’t worry. And I’ll be back to check on you in a couple months. You think you can finish the clean up from here?”

Dean scoffed and tugged lightly on the ex-deity’s ear.

“Please. I got this. Go set the family up somewhere nice… and as far away from me as possible.”

Chuck winked at him before turning to say his goodbyes to the rest of the group. Michael stepped up to Dean cautiously after a moment.

“I was wrong about you, and I’m sorry for that.”

Dean clicked his tongue as he shook his head.

“Water under the bridge, Mikey. Don’t even worry about it, just keep your brothers in line and watch out for Chuck. We’ll consider it squared.”

The former archangel nodded his head and moved to step away.

“Oh! And maybe check out some Zeppelin while you’re on your permanent siesta.”

Michael laughed before nodding his head and moving to stand beside Lucifer. Dean felt someone step up to his side and was surprised to find Death standing next to him when he turned his head. The horseman only nodded slowly in deference before flashing a tiny smile and disappearing into thin air. Dean shook his head in amusement. When he turned his attention back towards Sam, Bobby and his angels, Dean clucked in disapproval when he noticed the plethora of scrapes, bruises and slices that decorated his family.

“Look at you guys, can’t take you anywhere, I swear.”

With a quick flick of his wrist Dean healed their wounds and cleaned up their clothing.

“Whaddaya say we get the fuck outta Dodge? I have a mighty need for a burger, a beer and some pie.”

He turned to give Chuck and Michael a wave and a smile… but they had already disappeared from the crossroads. Lucifer along with them, thank fuck. Dean made a soft sound of amusement under his breath before he turned back to find Castiel standing before him with an utterly exhausted look upon his face.

“Can we go home now, please, Dean?”

Dean grinned as he leaned forward to peck a kiss on his angel’s lips.

“You got it, babe.”

And home they went.

Cas was tucked up close to him in their bed, still naked and warm from their earlier bout of sexy-fun-times. The angel was twirling his fingers around the strands of Dean’s hair and softly humming some made up tune under his breath. For his part, Dean was creating little sparks from the tips of his fingers and watching as the miniature fireworks popped and fizzled into nothingness. Castiel shifted close enough to place a warm kiss to the side of Dean’s neck.

“How do you feel?”

The younger man shrugged his shoulders and dropped his hand to his stomach. He turned his head to meet his angel’s gaze and smiled softly.

“Pretty good so far. There’s just so much of it humming below the surface of my skin, you know? Sometimes I feel like I’m going to split at the seams but then I feel Chuck tinker at it a little bit from wherever he is… and it settles down.”

The angel made a soft sound of agreement as he gently trailed the tip of his nose across the line of Dean’s jaw.

“I have every confidence in your ability to do the impossible and make this power your own. You will be a wonderful God. Caring and fair and unwilling to shy away from strong changes that need to be made.”

Dean grinned at his lover and gave him a contemplative side-eye.

“Yeah, maybe. I know Chuck didn’t want me to go crazy with the power or anything… but there are some things that have got to change, Cas. Shit just ain’t right anymore. Too many people are using religion to kill and conquer. I know I can’t change everyone… but I can try. Create some new prophets… GOOD ones… and some Saints. Maybe a couple miracles here and there to grab people’s attention. Convince the really worthwhile preachers still out there to step away from the big fancy churches… give their sermons under a tree in the park, you know? Way it ought to be.”

Castiel’s fingers trailed lightly down Dean’s face until they were carefully tracing the shape of his lips.

“Do you think people are ready for that?”

Dean sighed.

“Probably not. But I’ll do what I can. That was Chuck’s whole reason behind all this, right? To give it another chance? A strange attempt at modernizing the Heavenly Host for this day and age? I’m just not sure how I’m going to do it all without fucking everything up.”

The angel chuckled.

“Dean… I’m sure there are going to be things that you mess up, but as long as you learn from them… and find a better way… I’m sure no one will judge you for it. This is an unprecedented event. Something that was never foretold by anyone. It will probably be two steps backward for every step forward for quite some time. The biggest concern you should have… is that you don’t give up, and you don’t allow it to change you from the man I love.”

Dean twisted sideways until he was lying on his side facing Cas. Their faces were barely a hair’s breadth apart.

“Just promise to keep me human. Promise to keep me sane.”

Castiel smiled, bright at the sunlight streaming through the curtains, and place a soft kiss on Dean’s lips.

“That is a promise I will never break. I swear.”

The sort of ex-human, kind of new Lord-on-high smiled right back at his angel with a mischievous wink.

“Gonna hold you to that one.”

Cas made an adorably amused face at him.

“I’m counting on it.”

The End.