Technical note: Hover over Latin phrases for an English translation.

***

Michael stared down at the water, trying to remember why it wasn’t late afternoon. The heaven he knew was perpetually bright: filled with light and unchanging, like the moment before Lucifer’s fall. Yet now the pale glow of in between made the water glint like the ocean at dusk, deep and opaque and enigmatic beneath the faint sparkle of departing sun.

“I hear you’re getting married,” Lucifer’s voice said.

He looked to his right. His lost brother stood there, magnificent wings and the shadow of a vessel Michael didn’t know. He had no idea what Lucifer was doing in heaven, who he might have killed or tricked to be where he was now.

What retribution might be coming.

“Do you,” Michael said.

Lucifer didn’t look prepared for a fight. “I suppose congratulations are in order,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to take my advice so literally.”

Michael considered that. Marriage was a human institution, and he couldn’t imagine what kind of metaphor Lucifer was trying to convey. Nor did he have any memory of advice, literal or otherwise.

“Thank you,” he said at last.

Lucifer stood there for a long moment, and the choir continued as it had. No alarm raised or battle joined: the devil stood within the gates of heaven and heaven didn’t blink. Michael wondered if what he perceived existed here at all.

“The children are in danger,” Lucifer said.

It made no more sense than anything else, but confusion was a sign of weakness. “We’re all in danger,” Michael said. He couldn’t tell a fallen angel that their father would protect them. He was spared that uncertainty, at least.

“Michael.” Lucifer’s voice was hidden from the host. If it hadn’t been before, it was now. Michael knew that he was the only one who heard a message so odd as to be incomprehensible. “Samael will stand with me in defense of Adamel. Our protection extends to the others if they’ll have it.”

Samael he knew. Adamel he did not. He was wary of broadcasting the name through the choir for identification, given the source. “The others,” he repeated.

“The children,” Lucifer said again. “And Jesse, not that he needs my protection.”

Jesse was the antichrist. Jesse defended Adamel. Another child of hell?

Like his father, Michael thought. Not Samael.

Sam.

“You’re not the only one who’ll stand for them,” Michael said. Sam was important, Sam had children, why couldn’t he remember. He was the first archangel of heaven and he couldn’t remember his own brother.

“No,” Lucifer agreed. “But I am the most reliable.”

His word, once given, was good. If Lucifer said he would protect the children, then the only question was what he chose to protect them from. And who the children were. Why no one else’s word was to be trusted, and how Lucifer knew without having to ask.

What Lucifer was doing in heaven.

Dean.

He knew Castiel’s voice like he knew his brother’s name: not as well as he should. But he knew with absolute certainty that he needed to know it, and that was more than anything else he had. He left Lucifer on the bridge while heaven and earth shifted around him.

The reaper took one look at him and stepped back. “Not Dean,” she said.

He didn’t care about her presence the way he cared about Castiel’s wings. The flinch that shivered through them was more light than movement. Not a wound, but something worse.

Shaken faith.

“Michael,” the angel agreed. “He still wears Death’s ring.”

He looked down at his right hand. There were two rings there and neither of them was right. Neither of them was gold. His left hand was bare.

Riders, Gabriel’s voice said.

He couldn’t tell if that was a memory or not.

“Tell him what you told me,” Castiel said. His voice sounded very tired when he added, “Please.” Which wasn’t right; an angel of heaven shouldn’t beg. Especially not this angel.

“Reapers are disappearing.” The woman was familiar, somehow. She stared at him the way reapers stared at souls they’d come to collect. “They have one thing in common,” she said. “They’ve all spoken to Dean Winchester.”

“Dean Winchester,” he repeated. His vessel.

“You,” Castiel snapped. “We don’t have time for you to be cagey, Michael. If you don’t remember, just say so. This is important.”

He raised his eyebrows, amused to see irritation flush and sparkle through another angel’s grace. “You should show me some respect,” he said.

“I pulled you out of hell,” Castiel retorted. But the thread of amusement was there too, reflected back at him, and Dean took a step closer.

“I remember that part,” he said. It wasn’t entirely true. He remembered Castiel saying it, which was close enough.

“I have to go,” Tessa said. “Find out who’s doing this and stop them.”

“That’s what we do,” Dean said. He didn’t take his eyes off of Castiel.

“I expect you to come for me if I’m taken,” Tessa told him.

Dean blinked, finally recognizing her when he turned and stared. “Yeah,” he said. “Of course. Be careful.”

The corners of her mouth curled, and she inclined her head. “Good to see you again, Dean.”

“You too,” he said. “Hey, if I have this ring, can I give you orders?”

“Did not having it ever stop you?” she countered.

“So, yeah,” Dean said. “Don’t get yourself disappeared.”

She gave him a look of fond exasperation, which was probably as close as Tessa came to rolling her eyes. “Oh, thank you,” she said. “I’d never have thought of that.”

She was gone before he looked away.

“Hey,” Dean said, because Castiel was about to say something and this might be more important. “Lucifer was on the bridge. Is that normal?”

Castiel paused, but he didn’t seem surprised. He looked like he was considering Dean more than anything Dean might have said. “It’s not a frequent occurrence,” he said at last. “Nor is it unheard of. Did she speak to you?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Told me he’d defend the children.”

Castiel nodded. “We knew this,” he agreed. “Gabriel will likely stand for them as well. She says she won’t fight, but I don’t doubt her ability to defend what she considers hers.”

That was information he didn’t have, falling into a void in his mind to outline something vast and damning. “War,” he said. “You’re talking about war.”

Castiel’s grace didn’t so much as flicker. “It’s the option of last resort.”

“War,” he repeated.

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel said. His oddly human voice was quieter than it had been. “We’re preparing for war.”

Dean studied him. They must have had this conversation a lot lately, so he tried to find a shortcut. “Tell me about the children,” he said.

“Four new angels,” Castiel replied. Too smooth, too fast for it to be anything but rehearsed. So Dean had asked this question before, too. “The choir calls them nephilim, but they’re not hybrids. They’re children of creation.”

“Who created them?” Dean asked. He figured he already knew the answer.

When Castiel looked away, Dean nodded to himself. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, so we’ve got kids, we’ve got us, and we’ve got a new world order. The only thing I’m missing is the problem.”

Castiel didn’t move, but it felt like he was sighing. “I think you’ve pretty much summed up the problem.”

“Lucifer’s on our side,” Dean said, and Castiel didn’t contradict him. “Who are we fighting?”

It was enough to make Castiel look at him again, at least. “I don’t know,” he said. He didn’t look as young as he should, even when he added, “I fear we have met the enemy and he is us.”

Dean thought it was a little weird that he could remember the comic strip those words came from. “Isn’t it always,” Dean said, frowning because Cas was already pushed to the limit and nothing was happening. That he could see. Yet.

What was Cas even doing on earth? He must have been here a while if a reaper had given up on finding him anywhere else. Especially Tessa, who loved to hang around the gate with –

It was the vibration of his phone that did it. He looked at his watch, but yeah, it was way past six and he’d known that without a single thought about what it meant. “Shit,” he muttered, because he wasn’t surprised and neither was Cas. Cas hadn’t even bothered to call him this time.

“We were supposed to go out,” he said. And then, because he’d been through this confession every possible way and all of them sucked, he added, “I forgot. I’m sorry.”

Cas stared back at him, but his eyes crinkled the way they always did when he was about to smile and Dean figured they were okay. “Was that very hard for you to say?” he asked.

“Getting to be kind of a habit,” Dean admitted. He’d tried ignoring it, he’d tried bluffing his way through it, he’d even tried snapping at Cas for not reminding him. None of them made him feel any better and he was pretty sure they all made Cas feel worse.

“You’re remembering very quickly this time,” Castiel observed. He sounded like he was trying not to sound hopeful.

“Since I saw you,” Dean agreed. “Feel like I should get a tattoo, like that guy in Memento. ‘Find Cas,’ you know?”

Castiel frowned at him, and just as he opened his mouth to say it Dean echoed along with him, “You don’t understand that reference.

“Yeah,” Dean added, “there’s this movie where a guy gets hit on the head and he can’t remember anything that happens to him after that, so he writes himself notes to remind him of what he’s doing. He gets the important stuff tattooed on his skin.”

He heard Cas think, Memento, and someone from Gabriel’s garrison sent back a plot summary.

“I see.” The confused expression had already cleared, but Cas nodded at the elaboration. “That explains several comments Sam has made lately, then.”

Dean blinked. “Since when does Sam not have time to explain movie references to you?”

“He seems uncertain of my sincerity,” Castiel said. “I’m afraid close association with Gabriel has colored his expectation of angels.”

Dean would give him that. Which made him realize he hadn’t actually answered his phone, so he pulled it out. Missed call from Sam. Of course. He also had three texts from Cas, which he hadn’t even heard come in. Maybe Cas hadn’t decided not to remind him after all.

“Hey,” he said, lifting the phone as it rang. “Didn’t get your messages. Cell service in heaven sucks.”

Castiel shook his head. “It wasn’t important.”

Dean figured the chances of that being true were maybe thirty percent, but Sam picked up and Dean was in enough trouble as it was. He’d definitely told Sam what was supposed to go down tonight. Sam was way too connected to the angel network to not know what was happening.

Or not happening, in this case.

“Dude,” Sam said, before Dean could head him off. “You need to be in Maine half an hour ago.”

“We’re busy,” Dean retorted. “We’ll get there when we get there.”

“You’re late,” Sam said. “Cas called. He said you weren’t answering your phone.”

Dean was still looking at Castiel, who should be able to hear every word just fine. He shrugged, and Dean rolled his eyes. “He sent me some texts,” Dean told the phone. “I was talking to Lucifer. I’m done now, okay?”

“You’re not in Maine,” Sam said. Like that was the sum total of their issues.

“Whatever,” Dean said. “We’re going.”

“You better,” Sam said. “Is he listening?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, the corner of his mouth lifting as he looked at Cas. “He’s right here.”

“So I have to threaten you ambiguously on the off chance he doesn’t know what’s supposed to happen,” Sam said. “Don’t try to weasel out of this, Dean. I’d say something really cheesy about how it’ll make you happy, but the important thing is that if you don’t do it? We’ll make fun of you forever.

“And by ‘we,’” Sam added, “I mean people who can actually do it forever.”

Dean hung up on him.

“So,” he said, hoping he looked even slightly cool after listening to one of his little brother’s lectures. “Still have time for dinner?”

Castiel smiled.

They ate outside at some little clam shack on the coast, because summer had finally made it as far north as Camp Ellis and maybe also because the illusion of a quick exit was a tiny bit reassuring. It took Castiel a whole five minutes to say something about how weird he was acting. The sad part was, it probably took him that long because Dean acted weird all the time lately, what with garden-induced amnesia taking over at random intervals.

So Dean gave up. If a guy who ate chowder by fishing all the pieces of potato out of it first with his fingers thought Dean was acting weird, then he was never gonna get through dinner. He crumpled his napkin up and tossed it down on the table.

“Look,” he said, trying to ignore the scattering of people at the other tables. “This got off to a bad start, what with the…” He gestured at his head. “Forgetting, and all. And I know, it took me too long to get to it. We should’ve just done it the next day. But I wanted to –”

His complaints about an audience didn’t make any sense, given where they were, but he tried anyway. “You know they were all watching us, right? Everyone will know, but I wanted us to have a couple minutes to… you like the human thing, right? So if we’re gonna do this the human way –”

He probably shouldn’t be talking about humans so loudly. Since they were actually surrounded by humans. And he was going to get everyone’s attention when he stood up, because no way would they miss that, and any part of the host that cared to notice knew he was suddenly nervous: that would get the angels’ attention, which meant this plan had been doomed from the start.

“Dean,” Castiel said. He looked confused but strangely pleased, like he got something out of seeing Dean totally fall apart. That would explain a lot, actually. Since Dean seemed to do it on a regular basis.

“I think you’re trying to do something for me,” Castiel said carefully. “But I don’t know what it is.”

Dean stared at him. Half the host probably knew by now, and he couldn’t even say it.

“What are you trying to say?” Castiel prompted.

Cas had to be the only person worse at this than he was, so Dean blurted out, “Will you marry me,” only it didn’t come out like a question and it wasn’t, really, since Cas had already said yes. “I mean, I’m trying to propose, except I’m no good at it and you’re not exactly helping.”

It wasn’t fair at all. Castiel ignored it because he was a nice guy or possibly just because he thought it was true, and Dean wasn’t sure which option was more depressing. They’d just gotten their first sidelong glance from the next table over.

“This is the part where we become engaged,” Castiel said. He looked way too happy about it for a guy who’d objected to the word “husband” and made Dean call him his “fiancé” almost since the subject came up. “Officially,” he added, maybe reading Dean’s expression or maybe remembering the first conversation they’d had about it.

Dean could remember it too, he realized suddenly. He had it all back, his whole life, even the parts no one really thought about, and that was well-timed to the point of being suspicious. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought Castiel had more control over the garden than he claimed to.

“Yeah,” he said, fumbling something out of his pocket and concentrating just enough to make sure it didn’t glow to human eyes. “You know how this works?”

“I think you’re going to give me a ring,” Castiel said, his eyes on Dean’s hands.

“Yeah,” he repeated, but his throat was dry and it was getting harder to talk. He leaned forward, hoping to be quiet, but the words came out rough if they came out at all. “Okay if I kneel? I know you don’t like it, but it’s part of the… that’s how you do it. Doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

Castiel’s gaze was steady on his face again. “I trust you,” he said.

It was more than Dean knew how to take, here and now, in front of other people. He got up anyway and came around the other side of the picnic table, because this was important and he had to. He wanted to.

When he went down on one knee on the pavement, Castiel studied him curiously but didn’t say anything. People were definitely watching now. Actual human strangers, here with them at the end of the breakwater.

“Yeah, so,” Dean said. He had no idea how words were coming out. “Normally I’d tell you all the ways you’re awesome, or something, but… uh. We’d be here all night. You’re awesome, and I – I love you. You want to marry me?”

Castiel was smiling down at him, and that had to be a good sign. “Is that a question?” he asked, after a tiny pause that felt like forever. “Or a statement? Because it could have been a statement.”

“It’s a question,” Dean said. “You’re supposed to say yes.”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed without hesitation.

“Or no,” Dean said quickly, because he hadn’t meant it like that. “You can say whatever you want, obviously. You’re just supposed to answer the question.”

“I did,” Castiel told him. “I’d like my ring now.”

He held out his hand like Dean was just going to drop the ring into it. And it was his right hand, so Dean shook his head. “Your other hand,” he said.

Castiel frowned, but he offered his hand when Dean reached for it and let him turn it over. “You said yes,” Dean muttered. He had no idea what the reason was but he was going to do it. “I get to at least put the ring on your finger.”

That was enough for Cas, apparently, and he held still while Dean slid the shining band onto his ring finger. To angels, there was no hiding its luminosity. What is it? Castiel asked, but even the question was tentative. As though he knew Dean would tell him, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for what it meant.

Fate, Dean answered anyway. He’d ruined her life. At least according to her. As far as he was concerned, she’d ruined his. Somewhere in the cosmic back-and-forth, he’d come out ahead in the favor chain. She owed me one.

I find that unlikely, Castiel remarked. He didn’t push it, though, and Dean took advantage of holding his hand to pull him up when he got to his feet.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Dean murmured, and the words still sounded too loud but Cas just nodded, quiet and steady against him when he leaned in.

So, okay. They didn’t totally suck at the human thing. When they tried, or whatever.

They were maybe a little better at ignoring the scattered applause than normal humans would be. But normal humans didn’t eat the world’s crazy for breakfast, so that wasn’t their fault. They managed to ignore the choir pretty thoroughly too, and so far that was the biggest win of all.

At least, they ignored it long enough to finish their dinner. Dean gave a quick wave to the rest of the clam shack patrons – if only to make up for the fact that Cas stared at them like they were a new species, and Dean had to whisper that the applause was a kind of congratulations and could he please stop – and nothing to the host. Except Gabriel, because she deserved the SHUT UP she got for her rendition of “looking for something dumb to do…”

It was easier to eat after that. Gabriel didn’t actually stop singing, but Dean managed to ignore her. It helped that Cas was predictably curious about the ring and Dean wanted to keep that out of the choir as much as possible. They concentrated on talking like human beings, and if it sounded strange to anyone close enough to overhear, at least it wasn’t demon Sunday school.

He didn’t know how long they would have stayed there. He didn’t know if Cas would have followed him if he suggested an overnight getaway to celebrate. He didn’t know if Cas would have suggested it himself; lately he was very interested in how human he could make his angelic form.

Dean didn’t get to find out, because his phone vibrated and he knew it was Sam without looking. Cas caught his eye. “Your brother?” he said, like it was a question. Like “your brother” only meant one thing, and Dean would always love that Cas reserved the title for Sam.

“Time to face the music,” Dean said, pushing the detritus of their meal together in the middle of the table.

“If it involves hearing Gabriel sing more,” Castiel said, “I’d rather not.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “She admits listening to Bruno Mars,” he said. “You’d think that would be more embarrassing than anything we could do.”

Castiel’s expression lightened, clearly getting the intent if not the specifics. He’d stopped questioning every pop culture reference that crossed his path, and Dean couldn’t tell if it was because he recognized when they weren’t important or if he just trusted Dean to tell him when they were. He gathered their trash and went to throw it away while Dean checked his phone.

Sorry, Sam’s text said. There’s a reaper here asking for you, says it’s about heaven.

That didn’t sound ominous at all. is it tessa? Dean sent back.

Beats me, Sam’s message said a few seconds later. Jo didn’t identify it.

He didn’t get why Sam couldn’t see reapers; it wasn’t like he’d never died before. But Cas was back, and Dean had left a tip even though they hadn’t been waited on, so they were stuck with the slow process of walking away like normal people. Normal people without a car. He’d fly the Impala wherever he went if it wouldn’t draw more attention than the flying itself.

“Jophiel would recognize Tessa,” Castiel said quietly.

“Yeah, but would she think it was important to tell Sam?” Dean asked. “One reaper’s pretty much the same as another to you guys, right?”

He knew better, and the reproof in Castiel’s voice said he knew it. “I resist the generalization,” he said. “And wouldn’t Tessa simply have found you herself?”

Dean had to give him that one. She’d never been polite about butting in before. “Yeah, still. Who else is gonna risk talking to me if everyone who talks to me disappears?”

“Someone who’s already spoken to you,” Castiel said. “Or someone who’s more afraid of the news they bear than of disappearing because they delivered it.”

“Who disappears reapers, Cas?” It was a question he should have asked before, except that he knew Cas didn’t have the answer anymore than he did. “They’re not born, they don’t die, what are they afraid of?”

“Being bound to someone other than Death,” Castiel suggested. “A bound reaper healed you, once. And your Tessa was removed from the fight as part of the breaking of a seal.”

“Whoa,” Dean said, because he was learning to catch these subtle clues. “She’s not ‘my’ Tessa. She’s just this reaper I know, okay?”

“She was your reaper.” Cas looked totally calm about it, which was such a lie Dean didn’t even know where to start. “She only took the Tessa form to gain your acceptance and trust. There’s no logical reason for her to retain that form.”

“She wouldn’t be the first to decide she likes looking a little more human,” Dean pointed out. “And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t count as my reaper if she doesn’t actually get to reap me.”

“See that she doesn’t,” Castiel replied.

“Hey.” Dean reached out and caught his arm, and Cas let himself be stopped. “Yours,” Dean said. “If you’re asking. Even if you’re not, okay? Still yours.”

Cas just stared at him, and seriously, Dean had no idea where it came from. Dean lifted his hand until the ring he’d put on it was at eye level. “Never gonna change,” Dean told him.

Those blue eyes didn’t waver from his. “Forever is a long time.”

Cas was maybe the only person in the world who wouldn’t make fun of him for being this corny, but Dean still lowered his voice when he said, “I hope so.”

It was worth it for the way Cas smiled.

The rest of the night made Dean wish he could have quit while he was ahead. Gabriel had stopped singing by the time they got to the garrison, and it was nice not to have “Marry You” playing on repeat in his head but her absence made Sam pissy. The reaper’s presence made Cas pissy. And that wasn’t even the bad part.

“Hi,” said a reaper who looked enough like Tessa to be her sister. “We have a problem.”

“Who are you?” Dean demanded. He was sure Death hadn’t been on-call with his reapers 24/7. In fact, he distinctly remembered Tessa saying, He calls us. We don’t call him. The damn ring should have come with an instruction manual.

“Tessa sent me.” The reaper looked just sassy enough to be scared, which had to be an act: what the hell were reapers scared of? Hadn’t he just asked this question? “I’m Tirla.”

“Okay, no you’re not,” Dean told her. Everyone else’s pissiness must be rubbing off on him, but he thought he should get time off for good behavior when he proposed. The rest of the evening. Or at least Cas not being pissed at him for more than a couple of hours at a time.

“Reapers don’t have names,” Dean said. “And why do you look like Tessa? You’re not gonna convince me you’re some recently dead girl in a hospital. Real or not.” Except that Tessa actually had been a real person, and he was already wondering if Tirla had stolen someone else’s likeness. If he had to spend the next hour finding out what had happened to her namesake –

“Tessa said you like women,” the reaper said. “And that you’d be nicer to someone who looked pretty.”

Dean sighed, because that was freaking fantastic. “Well, Tirla, I just got engaged to Cas here. Who looks like a man, in case you didn’t notice. You’ve managed to piss him off just by being here, and that doesn’t make me real inclined to do you any favors.”

Tirla looked at Castiel, who definitely didn’t look amused. He was really rocking the jealous spouse thing lately; Dean had no idea why. He’d tried to ask, but it always came out sounding like he didn’t want Cas around. He didn’t know how that happened either, but he was learning to keep his mouth shut if he didn’t want to fight.

“I see,” Tirla said. “Tessa didn’t mention that.”

“Where is Tessa?” Dean wanted to know. “What’d she send you for?”

“She’s gone.” Tirla was looking at him again, but the sass was gone. Now she looked as serious as any reaper, if a little scared. More scared then before, maybe. Cas could do that to a person. “I was her backup. So the last thing she was doing before she got taken is my job now.”

Dean frowned. “Did you say taken?”

“She’s gone,” Tirla repeated. “She said you promised to come after her.”

Dean exchanged glances with Castiel.

“She must have been taken,” Tirla continued. “She can’t be dead, right? I mean, you’d have to kill her.”

He’d never heard a reaper babble before, and it occurred to him that if Tirla wasn’t playing it up then she was more shaken than he’d ever seen Tessa. Even at the hospital when she was pretending to be human. “I don’t kill reapers,” Dean snapped. “Who the hell is kidnapping them? What does anyone want with a reaper, anyway?”

“Control,” Sam said unexpectedly. “Over life and death. Come on, Dean, who wouldn’t want a reaper?”

“Or you,” Castiel said.

Dean looked back at him, but Castiel hadn’t moved.

“Control over you,” he said. “The reapers are Death’s army. Without them, you are weakened.”

Reapers wouldn’t work on most of Dean’s enemies, but it was probably tacky to say so out loud. “You think this is about me?”

Sam’s incredulous laugh got his attention where Castiel’s stare hadn’t. “Dean, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Sam said. “But everything’s about you.”

That was funny coming from Sam, but heaven got all up in his head before he could say it and the rest of the night went to shit. He was distantly aware of Anna appearing beside Cas, the garrison wards lighting up like a Christmas tree, and Sam’s hand going to the protection amulet he’d started wearing around his neck. The choir roared into awareness like the garden taking over and Dean felt his sword in his hand before he could think.

It was Zachariah that overwhelmed the host, words clear and inevitable, tolling like the voice of God: MICHAEL IS LOST.

“Cas,” Anna was saying. “We have to go.”

And the forces of heaven started to rain down on earth.

“Sam,” Dean snapped. “Garrison report, go. Everyone who checks in is staying, their sword for our sovereignty, I want them in the air defending earth as fast as they can fly. Anna –”

“We have to go,” she said, as calm as he’d ever seen her. “Cas can’t hold heaven alone, you have Samael. Raphael’s already forced Rachel to the gates.”

“Gabriel,” Sam said aloud. “Come back. We need you.”

“Dean,” Castiel said.

“Go.” Dean caught his arm and kissed him hard, fast, no finesse and no time to apologize. “I got the kids.”

Castiel and Anna were gone before he could turn around and he felt the main gate… jam. There was no other word for it, the entire host could feel how close the seal had come to being complete. But energy flooded the borders of heaven, making the sentries flare, and then it was gone. The door slammed shut. Heaven was closed.

Everyone but the archangels was cut off.

Maribel appeared at his side, Maia in her arms, and Dean swore. The wards were crackling, their line already under attack, and of course she’d brought Maia to the place she should be most protected. She was his kid, after all, and Maia was Gabriel’s. Sam’s garrison should be better defended than anywhere else on earth.

“Gabriel,” Sam was saying, apparently talking to no one. “Where the fuck are you?”

If Gabriel wasn’t coming, her garrison was just another fortress. A fortress on the front line, ambushed by angels that Zachariah must have been subverting all along. Raphael’s garrison, just following orders. Rebels taken back by heaven, loyal soldiers who wouldn’t follow a human. Stories Dean couldn’t worry about right now.

“It’s not safe here,” he told Maribel. “This is the first place they’ll target, and I need you out. Adamel’s with Lucifer; I need you to find him and stay with him. Take Maia.”

“To Lucifer,” Maribel repeated.

“She gave me her word,” Dean said, hoping desperately that this wasn’t a mistake. “If it gets too hot, you know where to go.”

Maribel just nodded. Sam was already coming over, reaching for Maia, but Maribel just asked, “What about Wildfire?”

“Sam, don’t,” Dean said. “Lucifer promised. They’re safer with her than with us.

“I’ll get Wildfire,” he added, putting a hand on Maribel’s head and then squeezing her shoulder. Wildfire was off the grid, grace gone and hopefully hidden by parents who were as paranoid as he was on a good day. On a bad day, they’d probably put her in angel witness protection.

“I’m not sending my kid off with Lucifer,” Sam hissed, turning a little so it looked like he wasn’t talking to Maribel. She could hear him perfectly well, but he wasn’t trying to take Maia back.

“You send your kid off with Lucifer every day,” Dean retorted. “Maribel’s got her; they’ll disappear if she makes a move. They’re safer there than here.”

All the lights went out and the air started to press in on them. Dean flung up a hand and the ceiling straightened out. “Gabriel’s not coming,” he said. “We have to go.”

Sam stared at him in the weird angel glow, and Dean forced one of the lights back on. “Or you can stay,” Dean said. “Angel fight, not your strong suit. The wards will protect you.” Probably. He should send Sam with the kids, except that Lucifer hadn’t promised to protect his brother and Dean didn’t want to know what the devil would do if she found herself standing next to Sam in a firefight.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Like that’s gonna happen.” There was a black shadow behind him, lighting glinting off the horse’s eyes.

Dean nodded, but Maribel and Maia were already gone. “Let’s go.”

He heard the windows blow out behind them. It was nothing next to the surge of power that propelled them into the fight – and suddenly, for a second that stretched into eternity, the angels were gone. Suddenly it was him and Sam, a scythe and a scale and the horses they rode. There was nothing in front of them but time, nothing behind them but chaos and creation.

Then the battle rose up around them. Michael’s grace was icy and sharp, merciless in the face of disobedience. He swung an archangel’s blade, not a scythe, but he could feel Sam’s balance pressing hot against his head. Sam was one with his horse in a way Michael could only envy, and it tempered the rage that had once split heaven down the middle.

It clarified things, just for a moment. The scope of the front turned clear and minute: narrowed to a child, a soldier, and an anomaly. “Jophiel!” He didn’t realize he wasn’t flying until he had to lean down, reaching for Wildfire from the back of a horse twice her height. Jophiel’s sword spun, but she let him haul Wildfire up behind him.

And she grabbed the nose of his mount, fearless in the face of Death. “Lose her,” Jophiel said, “and you lose this war.”

“She’s my daughter too,” Michael told her.

With a nod, Jophiel let him go.

He only saw one reaper. It wasn’t a battle to the death – it couldn’t be, not with archangels behind it. Not with their power reinforcing the lines the way it was. Every soldier was just an extension of the garrison, and this was a battle for control.

This was, as Sam said, all about him.

So Tirla shouldn’t be standing everywhere he looked. She was made manifest in a way that meant she was here to work. But no one was going to die today: not here, not if Dean could help it. And if they were, why her? Why her alone on a front that stretched halfway across the continent?

He missed the moment when his sword turned into a scythe, but Tirla didn’t. She stared with wide eyes as he bore down on her. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. It was Zachariah at the far end, he should be there, he couldn’t take Wildfire. “These souls are mine.”

“I don’t want souls,” she said hastily. “I’m not here for them.”

“Then go,” Dean told her. “This isn’t your fight.”

“Everyone who talks to you disappears,” Tirla said. “I won’t be a casualty of someone else’s war.”

He didn’t know how she was going to avoid it, but he also didn’t have time to care. “Stay out of the way,” he told her. “Wildfire. Hide.” She clung to his back as they thundered through the clouds, and by the time he reached Zachariah she was part of him.

“You know,” Dean said, glaring down at an archangel who didn’t know when to quit. “You were a lot less annoying as a bunny.”

“Dean,” Zachariah said pleasantly. Like they were meeting across a desk – again – and Zachariah was still on the right side of it. “Spoken to your father recently?”

Just like that, there was a blade pressed against his neck. “Because I have,” Zachariah growled. “He says get in line.”

Dean kicked him back, unimpressed by the flash of wings and armor. “Grow up,” he said. “Dad’s gone. You want his legacy to be our destruction?”

Zachariah sneered at him. “The fact that you believe he’s gone only shows how lost you are,” he said. “Our father would never abandon us.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Dean snapped. “You cut off everyone on earth and you’ve got the nerve to talk about abandonment?”

“A shepherd looks after his flock,” Zachariah said, with the same mix of condescension and smarm that had gotten him turned into a bunny in the first place. “The faithful are never alone.”

It was too much. The clash of swords, the fire that threatened earth, and a lecture on faith from Zachariah, of all people. He could feel the front crackling with anger, blades starting to slice through the power that pulsed between opposing armies. How the hell had he ended up out here? On the wrong side of heaven’s gate, rallying his broken followers with the promise of redemption, sword swinging even as he fell.

He trusted Lucifer now, even as he spit in Zachariah’s face.

They were going to lose this war. Maybe they’d lost before the battle had been joined. Maybe needing to fight had sealed their doom. If he went down, at least he would go down to the light.

“Dean.” Something jolted him, a beast slamming into his side, Michael’s wings uncomfortably bright against the blackness of the stallion that forced him backward. “What are you doing? The wall is coming down.”

Michael swung around. Sam grabbed his shoulder to steady him, but there was no one else there. There were alone at the end of the world, and angels were forcing grace and blood into a battle that threatened to blow up in their faces. “Where’s Zachariah?” Michael asked sharply.

“What?” Sam was watching him pour the power of heaven into the front line, forcing both sides back. “Was he here?”

“Raphael must be stuck in heaven,” Dean muttered. Fighting Cas and Anna both, and the combination should reassure him but it didn’t. Anna was too human, and Cas had never been as ruthless as he should be. Zachariah was only here because he didn’t have to be there.

“Samael?” Sam asked.

“She’s on the ground,” Dean said. With them, for a wonder. “Earth doesn’t know what’s happening yet. That’s down to her.”

“Dean,” Sam said, staring at him. “Is that –”

Dean felt Wildfire shift just before she poked her head over his shoulder. “Hi, Sam.”

“Jophiel’s going to kill you,” Sam said. “Just so you know.”

“She brought her to the fight,” Dean said. “I’m not sending her packing through that.” He didn’t wave into the clouds; he didn’t have to. No one should travel alone through a landscape torn and distorted by this much grace.

“What do we have to do here?” Sam asked. “Do we hold them? Do we push them back? I can’t see much but –” He did a thing with his hands that probably meant “whatever,” and he added, “Force. People if I get close enough. It’s pretty random.”

“Is it getting worse?” Dean asked, staring into the maelstrom.

“Yeah,” Sam admitted. “More blurry. How’d you know?”

“Angels aren’t meant to be separate,” Dean said, catching Tirla out of the corner of his eye. When he turned, she was gone again. Sticking close, but trying not to let him see her. That was gonna get old real fast.

“What does that mean?” Sam demanded.

“The longer they fight, the less they know who they’re fighting.” Dean stared clear to the other side of the struggle and he could see it happening already. An angel here, another one there, pushed back by their fellows when they faltered. Not injured. Not the way humans would see it. Just a failure of purpose in the face of fighting their own.

He could feel Sam’s dread without looking, knew he already knew the answer before he asked, “Is that good or bad?”

“They won’t turn on their own side,” Dean said. “Probably. Not yet. They haven’t, anyway.”

“Since the last time,” Sam finished for him.

They stared at each other for too long, and finally Dean said, “So, your psychic thing.”

Sam shrugged. “Beats me. Ask Gabriel.”

Dean felt a flare of anger, saw Sam’s eyes flick to his wings and knew he’d given himself away. “Yeah,” he said shortly. “Guess we’ll have to do that someday.”

“We’ll find her,” Sam said. “She’s an archangel; she can’t be that hard to track.”

“If she doesn’t want to be here, I don’t want her,” Dean snapped. They were lucky to keep Anna and Samael. Gabriel’s betrayal hurt on a visceral level, but strategically he had to appreciate the win. He hadn’t been counting on any of them.

Michael, he heard Samael say.

Yeah, I know. The archangels weren’t quiet, and it wasn’t a private exchange. He didn’t know how much heaven could hear, how much of the host was listening, or whether it mattered when the options were so limited. Anna’s garrison was undefended, and the wards, at least, were worth maintaining. Any retreat would have to take that into account.

“Jesse can do it,” Wildfire whispered in his ear.

Jesse had rebuilt the wards himself; he probably could do it. Whether he would or not was another question. “How’s he gonna feel about staking out an empty garrison?” Dean asked.

“He’ll do it if we need him to,” Wildfire said. “I’ll keep him company.”

Sam was right, Dean decided. Jophiel probably would kill him, if only because he was accidentally enabling her daughter’s first crush. He’d thought Jesse was hanging around their house a lot. Maybe they should have rules about sleepovers.

“Where is he?” Dean asked.

“With Samael,” Wildfire said. No hesitation, no doubt. Jesse wasn’t an angel, and there weren’t any angels she could have asked that he wouldn’t hear. So either Jesse had told her where he was going to be, or she had some magical Jesse-sense now.

“Dean,” Sam said, but he could already see it. Sam’s garrison pushing forward, the fires of heaven falling back. Jophiel was instructing everyone to stand, to hold, to not pursue. They watched the opposing angels go while she waited to see if Michael would countermand her order.

It wasn’t strength that did it: Zachariah’s forces were being recalled.

Hell with pursuit, Dean thought. He wanted to race them to the gate, to reach Cas before they did somehow. Because there was only one thing that would keep Zachariah from making his point: unmitigated necessity.

Cas had said he could take Raphael. Anna’s soldiers would win them them saints. Zachariah had to be bringing his angels back because without them, heaven would split open at the seams. Advantage earth.

Sorry, Cas, Dean thought grimly. You’ve got our mess coming your way now.

The breaking of heaven is everyone’s mess, Castiel’s voice replied. We are not unprepared.

Dean didn’t know why he’d thought he wouldn’t be able to hear Cas. Dude, are you okay?

It was a stupid question and he knew it even as the words formed. None of them were okay, and Cas couldn’t tell him how bad it was if there was any chance at all of being overheard. Right now it was almost a guarantee.

We stand together, Castiel replied cryptically. Strong and whole. We are, and always have been, behind you.

Dean guessed that was Cas-speak for “yeah, we’re all fine here.” He could only hope the arrival of Zachariah’s soldiers didn’t change that. In the meantime, he had to get his own back to the relative safety of garrisons where an archangel could look them over. Some of them were going to need more than just a recharge.

Call it, he told Jophiel. Make sure everyone comes home. Samael, your fallback okay?

Never threatened, she replied. It was a concentrated attack: one side of the world at a time.

Well, no one would accuse Zachariah of dreaming big. Until now, maybe. Talking to God? Protecting his flock? The guy was either delusional or way more off the rails than Dean had realized. Sure, it didn’t take much to deceive angels – Dean had firsthand experience with that – but setting yourself up as the angel pope? That was messed up.

The garrison was intact when they arrived. Windows included, so Dean assumed that whoever had gotten there first had fixed them. He sent Wildfire off with orders to find Jesse, secure Anna’s base, and avoid the battleground if angelically possible. Samael had kept the struggle from bleeding through into human space, but the aftereffects of a grace war would make the area unstable for a long time.

“Hey,” Sam said. He was frowning at the windows when Dean turned around. “Do the wards look weird to you?”

“Dean,” Sachiel’s voice interrupted. “Is it safe to commune? We need an anchor or we’re going to start losing people.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, giving the building a cursory glance. “I’ll be right there. Sam, what do you see?”

Sam shook his head. He turned in a circle, throwing his arms up as he went, and Dean actually thought he looked weirder than anything about the building. “I dunno,” he said. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

“You should eat something,” Dean said. He didn’t take his eyes off of Sam. The scales were gone, the horse was nowhere to be seen, but Sam was still wearing the ring. He shouldn’t have been able to see a fight like that, let alone participate.

Sam was shaking his head again until he caught Dean’s eye. Whatever he saw there made him stop, and Dean couldn’t tell if it was just obvious, his expression or something, or if Sam really was getting more psychic. His weird powers weren’t supposed to work on angels, right?

“Yeah?” Sam said. “You think?”

Sam was freakin’ tall and he was wearing too many layers for spring, but there was a weird gaunt shadow to his face when he moved. Could be his imagination. Could be powers Sam wasn’t supposed to have. Either way, some food wouldn’t kill him. “Can’t hurt,” Dean said. “Get me something too.”

That made Sam roll his eyes, but he grabbed another coat and headed for the door.

“Pie!” Dean yelled after him, and Sam lifted his hand without turning.

“He looks strange,” Sachiel remarked.

Dean sighed, because what he didn’t need was an angel confirming his suspicions. “Yeah,” he said again. “I know.”

“So do you,” she added. “There’s a darkness over you. Can you feel it?”

“No,” he said shortly. “What about the wards? You see anything wrong with ’em?”

“No Gabriel,” she said. “They’re dimmer without her.”

“Weaker?” Dean asked, squinting at the invisible symbols that climbed the walls inside and out.

“Not yet,” Sachiel said. “Maybe soon. I don’t know how much they’re dependent on a constant influx of power, but Gabriel always refreshed them when things got hairy.”

Gabriel’s warding had been the strongest on earth. If it was all downhill from here, they’d better take advantage of the time they had. “Communion,” Dean said. “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t easy the way it had been. With heaven closed, Michael was the only one who could channel new power into a bond that was too public to be protected. There was no “rebel radio” this time; everything they did was open to the host. The worst of both worlds, as far as Dean was concerned: no power and no privacy.

It soothed the malakhim, though, and for that he would open himself up every time.

He didn’t let them go until Sam came back with food. By then, two things were clear: Samael was way better at subtly powering a garrison than he was – he’d have to get some tips – and as usual, his connection to Cas was stronger than it should have been. It didn’t totally surprise Dean that he saw Castiel’s garrison as soon as he gave himself over to the host, but Michael wasn’t used to being someone else’s soldier.

There are archangels on earth, Cas was telling Anna. Surely their connection is sufficient.

If we cut everyone else off we’re no better than Raphael. Anna clearly wasn’t convinced, and Michael didn’t blame her. An open gate was everything they’d fought for, and to let heaven take it back… to help heaven take it back was abhorrent.

We can’t guard everyone all the time.

It won’t stop them, Anna said.

In her words was the echo of what could be: angels taken through a closed gate by archangels and trapped, cornered by one side or the other. No recourse but to run or to turn and fight when that failed. But Castiel’s vision was just as grim: with no barrier between their armies it would be up to the archangels to keep them separate, only their constant attention preventing instant annihilation.

Cas was willing to gamble on the angels before the archangels, and no one in heaven was surprised.

“Hey,” a voice said quietly.

Dean drew in a breath, and Michael opened his eyes. Sam was standing there, watching him carefully. There was a hole at his side, at Michael’s side, something they were missing. The kids were quieter than they’d ever been. The garrison felt empty.

“Dean?” Sam asked after a moment.

It was an effort to roll his eyes, but it eased some of the tension out of Sam. “Do I look like the Easter Bunny? Where’s my pie?”

“Where it always is,” Sam said, holding up the bag. “Come on. We have chairs.”

He waited until Dean was sitting in one of them, unwrapping his burger like he needed to eat, like he couldn’t make food appear in front of them without sending Sam after a thinly veiled excuse for humanity. Then he asked, “So. How’s the garden?”

Dean paused before he could take a bite. “Fine,” he said automatically. Because what kind of a question was that? What did it even have to do with anything? Except – “It’s fine,” he realized. Frowning at Sam, he added, “It’s stable.”

Sam nodded slowly, like maybe he’d been expecting that. “Cas is busy. Distracted. You think that makes a difference?”

“I dunno,” Dean muttered. He did know. It definitely made a difference; he didn’t know why Cas wouldn’t admit it. “Kind of creepy if it does, though, right?”

“You think?” Sam didn’t look convinced, and Dean wondered why they were even talking about this. “It’s him, right? And you? Kind of makes sense that it would change more when he has more to… you know. Give.”

“Why are we talking about this?” Dean wanted to know. “Your garrison’s one down.” He tore off a bite but Sam didn’t say anything, so he didn’t let it stop him from asking, “Who’s your helper this week?”

“Katahdiel,” Sam said, putting his sandwich down. “Didn’t need her much; Gabriel was being good.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, great.”

“Jo and I can handle it,” Sam said. “If Sach steps up to help with the human stuff…”

Dean put his drink down harder than he’d meant to, and Sam sighed.

“Did she even say anything?” Dean glared across the room. He was looking for Katahdiel, but there was Tirla, lurking in the corner again. “Did she at least –”

He didn’t know what he’d expected. Gabriel had said she wouldn’t fight; she’d made it clear she was out. She’d been part of armageddon once and she’d lost everything that made her different. So she’d given up everything that made her the same. She walked away with nothing and no one heard from her for a thousand years.

If she’d gone to ground for another millennium, who knew what it would take to bring her back this time.

“No,” Sam said. He glanced over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows at Dean when there was nothing there. “She was here and then she was just… what are you looking at?”

“Reaper,” Dean grumbled. “You sure Katahdiel didn’t know anything?”

Sam frowned. Dean was pretty sure he picked her to help when Gabriel decided garrisons were boring specifically because Gabriel liked her. Which meant that half the time, the angel Sam had replacing Gabriel ended up disappearing with her, and all Sam got out of it was extra – but still very fake – contrition when Gabriel came back.

“She was here and then she wasn’t,” Sam said, like he hadn’t noticed before. “No note. No obnoxious stuffed animal. I thought she was going to spring a party on you and Cas, so I didn’t really –”

Katahdiel, Dean thought. What Sam didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Gabriel say anything to you before she took off?

“No,” Katahdiel said, stepping around his chair. “She did not.”

Sam glared at him, so yeah. So much for that. “You weren’t answering,” Dean pointed out. “It was a simple question, Sam.”

“We have a rule about face-to-face communication,” Sam told him.

That explained Katahdiel’s sudden presence. “What about the phone?” Dean asked, stuffing more of his burger into his mouth. He was just setting a good example; Sam had to actually eat his sandwich for it to do him any good, after all.

“Unless it’s over the phone,” Sam said. “Does that seem weird to you?” he added, looking up at Katahdiel. “That Gabriel didn’t even say anything?”

“She usually leaves her messages with you,” Katahdiel said.

“Yeah,” Sam said, frowning. “That’s what I thought, too.”

“Okay, let’s not forget the epic sulk that ended with Cas and the kids trapped in another dimension,” Dean said. “We didn’t even do anything that time.”

“Ever since then,” Sam said. “She’s left a note.”

“That you can’t read!” Dean exclaimed. Gabriel knew how to use Google Translate, and she made sure nothing she ever wrote down could be recognized by it in any way.

“They still exist,” Sam said. “Hang on a few minutes, okay? I’m gonna check at home.”

Dean threw up his hands, but only a little because he was still holding his burger. “Take your sandwich,” he said.

Sam did, so that was something. Dean interrogated Katahdiel, finished his burger, checked in with all the kids and barely kept himself from interrupting Cas at the same time. He made sure Jo knew she was Gabriel’s replacement, and he was back to working on his pie by the time Sam came back. Gabriel’s portal system was fast, but it wasn’t flying.

“Nothing,” Sam said, throwing himself down into the chair across from Dean. His sandwich was gone, at least. “That’s weird, Dean. That’s not like her.”

“Nothing’s like her,” Dean retorted. “She deliberately does stupid things. On purpose!”

Sam gave him a look that said it wasn’t worth calling him on that. “I don’t think she left,” he said. “I think someone’s got her and we’re not even looking.”

“We’re not looking because she doesn’t want to be found.” There were angels right here that he was actually responsible for. He didn’t need another wild goose chase for someone who’d told them not to bother.

“Dean.” Sam’s expression said it all, and Dean gave up.

“Sam, what do you want me to do? Look for her? Fine, where do we start? She’s a freakin’ archangel; there’s nowhere she can’t go.”

“There’s nowhere you can’t follow her,” Sam insisted. “How hard is it to track that kind of power?”

“Hard!” Dean exclaimed. “Jesus, Sam, you think I’ve never looked for archangels before? We’re good at covering our tracks!”

“If she meant to,” Sam said. “What if she didn’t? Humor me,” he added, when Dean rolled his eyes. “Say someone grabbed her when she stepped outside. It’s happened before, right?”

The last time Gabriel had gotten snatched, Sam had gotten stabbed. “She pissed off any deities lately?” Dean wanted to know. He shrugged in the face of Sam’s glare. “It’s a fair question.”

“Other than your boyfriend,” Sam said pointedly. “No. Not that I know of.”

“That song was really annoying,” Dean said.

“You taking a month to propose was really annoying,” Sam said.

“Have your own wedding,” Dean told him. “Only don’t, because you would.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Sam said.

“Neither does Gabriel being kidnapped,” Dean said. “She’s an archangel! Who does that?”

It was Sam’s turn to shrug. “So far, a lot of people,” he said. “You get kidnapped all the time.”

“One,” Dean said. “No I don’t. And two, that was when I was human. Not the same thing at all.”

“All I’m saying is, Zachariah had a plan.” That wasn’t all he was saying, and he proved it by adding, “Why wouldn’t getting rid of Gabriel be part of it?”

“She told us this would happen!” Dean burst out. “She said, I’m not fighting this war! How much more of a message do you need?”

“She abandoned Maia.” Sam leaned forward, like this was the thing that deserved to be kept between them. “That’s not her, Dean. Push comes to shove, she wouldn’t walk out on her kid.”

“You don’t want it to be her,” Dean told him. “Look at her role models. You think this is beyond her?”

“Look at ours,” Sam said. “Would you walk away?”

“These wards will fail,” Castiel’s voice said from right behind him.

Dean almost knocked over his chair standing up. “Cas!”

Cas smiled at his relief. “Hello, Dean.”

Everything in his head was asking, What are you doing here? How did you get here? Are you okay? But he rejected every single question and reached out to grab the nearest shoulder, squeezing hard. Cas didn’t stop smiling at him, his hand coming up to rest on Dean’s arm: awkward, probably uncomfortable, and he didn’t even care. He was just glad to be touching Cas right now.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam offered. He got up too, looking from one of them to the other with a badly hidden smirk. “Want me to, uh, get some coffee or something?”

Dean was tempted to say yes, except that then Sam wouldn’t even try to hide it.

In the meantime Cas said, “No thank you, Sam. I need to speak with you both. Heaven is closed; I assume Dean told you?”

“We’re still catching up on the details,” Dean grumbled, pushing Cas toward the third chair. “Sit down. How are you here, anyway?”

“I’m well versed in how to escape heaven.” He said it like it didn’t matter, like it was just one of those things that didn’t have years of fear and pain behind it. He looked up when Dean leaned against the back of his chair. “Also, the gates don’t respond to me the way they respond to the rest of the malakhim. As you know.”

“They think you’re an archangel,” Sam said. “So you can get in and out even with everything locked down?”

“Effectively, yes,” Castiel told him. “Anael and I hold the gates, but we agreed that it would be best to restrict passage as much as possible at this time.”

“Yeah, I heard part of that conversation,” Dean said. “Anna agreed, huh?”

“Wait,” Sam said. “You’re holding the gates shut? Is that why the other angels disappeared?”

“She doesn’t approve,” Castiel admitted. “But our power is limited. We overwhelmed Raphael easily, and Zachariah recalled his forces to battle in heaven. At that point, it seemed prudent to contain the fighting as much as possible.”

“Keep it away from earth,” Dean said. “Good call.”

“You are still threatened,” Castiel told him. “We can’t hold the archangels, and they can move whomever they wish.”

“It’ll slow them down,” Dean said. “How are you guys? Are you good? Zach’s not the only one who can redistribute soldiers.”

“The shock of this will stop us all for a time,” Castiel said. “It’s too familiar, still.”

Castiel’s wings were very smooth, half there and half not as they glowed through the back of his chair, and Dean had no idea what made him think that running his hand over them would be less obvious than touching his shoulder. He’d already done the shoulder clasp, and a pat wasn’t enough in the face of… this. He couldn’t press his hand to the back of Castiel’s neck and bury his fingers in windblown hair, because Sam was watching and Dean got enough grief over their PDAs as it was.

So he stroked one hand over the curve of Castiel’s wing. It was nothing, absent and intentional and some maybe small piece of the comfort he couldn’t put into words. He felt his mouth quirk as his fingers lit up with the glow of grace.

“Dean.” Castiel’s hand clamped down on his wrist and pulled him forward. Dean stumbled into the chair, arm draped over Castiel’s shoulder while Cas scrutinized his hand. “What did you do?”

“What?” Dean stared down at the top of his head. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re not –” Castiel turned sideways in his chair and craned his neck to stare up at him, squinting in the artificial light. “It didn’t feel like an angel. Touching me. Just for a moment, I…”

Dean waited, because he could joke but Cas would look disappointed and it wasn’t worth it.

“I can’t explain it,” Castiel said at last. He didn’t look away.

“Was it bad?” Dean asked bluntly.

Castiel frowned. “I don’t know.”

“You want me to –” Dean tugged on his hand, letting Cas know he could back off.

“No.” The response was immediate, and Cas shook his head like it wasn’t worth considering. “That’s not what I meant, I just – no. Stay.”

Sam was watching them, but he just looked concerned. It meant Dean could put his other hand on Cas’ shoulder without getting mocked. He wouldn’t have done it if Cas hadn’t been so determined to hang onto him, and Sam did catch his eye. “You want me to go?”

It was a genuine offer, even if Dean would pay for it later. But Cas shook his head before Dean could, shoulders tensing under his grip. “I should be getting back. Rachel and Anael need reinforcement.”

“Cas,” Sam said, eyes flicking between the two of them. “Before you go… we were talking about Gabriel.”

Cas let go of his hand, but at this point Dean was done with personal space. If this was all he got before Castiel flew back to heaven or whatever, he was going to take advantage of it. He let both his hands settle on Cas’ shoulders and squeezed, pressing into his back with his thumbs. Sam was gonna know exactly what he was doing, and at this point he didn’t care.

“Indeed.” Cas sounded like Gabriel was some guy they’d met once, not the sister they’d been depending on to protect angel children. “I can not place her anywhere in the choir.”

Sam looked at Dean, but hey, he wasn’t gonna stop him.

“I don’t think she left on purpose,” Sam said, looking back at Cas. Dean kept rubbing his shoulders, and he could feel Castiel’s aborted head tilt. “I think someone took her tonight because they knew we wouldn’t look. I think we should try to find her.”

Castiel agreed silently, instinctively, and Dean raised his eyebrows.

“What?” Sam wanted to know.

“Cas agrees with you,” Dean said.

At almost the same time, so close the words overlapped, Castiel asked, “You don’t?”

Dean shrugged. “I think Gabriel’s doing exactly what she said she would. But if you want to look for her, I’m game.”

Sam made a face at him that Dean chose to ignore.

“If it was another archangel,” Castiel said, “someone in heaven will know.” He sounded too close to sighing for Dean to like it. “I’ll make some inquiries.”

“Thanks, Cas.” Sam trying to be sincere to Cas while glaring at Dean was kind of hilarious, especially since they were almost on top of each other. Dean tried to ignore the way his fingers tightened when he felt Cas about to stand up.

“You might try one of the goddesses,” Castiel offered, putting his hand over Dean’s again like a reassurance. “I wouldn’t invoke them lightly, but you seemed to… get along all right? With more than one of them.”

Sam opened his mouth, glanced at Dean, and closed it again. He lifted his hands in apparent surrender. “If you think it’ll help, I’ll try it,” he said.

“Dean,” Castiel said, and this time he really was getting up. “I don’t know if Lucifer would be willing to assist, or have any information worth asking for, but the children might. Gabriel is linked to the garden, in her own way, and they may be able to perceive her where we can not.”

“Right,” Dean said. He hoped it didn’t sound as sarcastic as he thought it did. Because the children Gabriel couldn’t stand were exactly how she’d choose to pass a message. “I’ll check on that.”

“Thank you for not saying that out loud,” Castiel said calmly.

Dean took the excuse to squeeze his shoulder one more time. “Thanks for not being a dick about thoughts I keep to myself, okay? Geez.”

Castiel just smiled at him, and Dean thought maybe he’d meant it.

“Okay,” Sam said, standing up. “I’m getting coffee. Good to see you, Cas.”

“And you also, Sam.” Cas didn’t look even slightly puzzled by his abrupt departure, so Dean figured that meant he was okay to be a little… closer. Or maybe a lot. Heaven was farther away than it had been that morning.

“Hey,” Dean said. “Yell if you get in trouble, okay?”

Cas turned into him, and they couldn’t be any closer without touching. “Of course, Dean.”

Dean didn’t bother trying to be cute, just leaned in and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Be careful,” he muttered afterward.

“I love you,” Castiel said, very quietly. He was still watching Dean, expectant but not as casual as he was trying to pretend. So, really? This was gonna be a thing they did now?

“Love you too,” Dean said under his breath. He let his hand brush over Castiel’s arm, and Cas’ fingers fluttered against his before he pulled away. “Still want to marry me?”

Castiel looked at him like the question was incomprehensible. “Yes,” he said.

“Okay then.” It should have been weird, but it was just…

He shouldn’t admit that it was comforting, right? Even to himself. Except it kind of was, and if that didn’t describe every stupid thing Cas did for him, he didn’t know what did. He was ready to roll with it right up until Cas lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to Dean’s fingers.

Dean just stared at him, because where did he even –

“I taught you that,” he realized. That time at the bike rally, Cas had been a Harley chick and Dean had been twenty-five. Dean had needed some gentleness, and he hadn’t been able to admit it then either. “Geez, Cas,” he blurted out. “You’re always there.”

“Yes,” Cas repeated. He probably saw it as fact, not a revelation. “Call me if you need me. I’ll return as soon as I can.”

Dean had to smile. At least Cas never knew what he was supposed to say either. “Yeah,” he said simply. He didn’t realize they were still holding hands until Cas just stood there, waiting. It occurred to Dean that if he didn’t let go Cas might not leave at all.

Tempting, but. Embarrassing. He didn’t know whether embarrassment or practicality won out, but he took a step back. Cas never looked away. He just lifted his wings and let his gaze linger until it was gone.

Take care of him, Michael thought, giving the ceiling a brief glance. Take care of all of them.

He didn’t realize Castiel had heard him until the next day. Cas always listened for him; he didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him. But when Michael got back from hell and found Cas on the porch with Maribel and Adamel, he had to stop and wonder what he’d forgotten this time.

“School?” Castiel asked, squinting at him like the answer was something he expected to read in Dean’s soul instead of hear in his voice.

Dean knew what day it was. He was pretty damn sure Cas had been in heaven last night, holding off the forces of darkness or whatever. He could feel the gates, still closed, and he could sense the garrison that should have been Sam’s weakening in the absence of the archangel that defended it.

He opened his mouth to say, Hell no, but Maribel beat him to it.

“I can’t go to school,” she said. “Who will take care of Maia?”

And just like that, Dean heard himself say, “We’ll take care of Maia; that’s our job. Stick together today, all right? If anyone comes after you, get out of the way and yell for us as loud as you can.”

“But Daddy,” Maribel said. “You need all the angels you can get here. With you.”

“And you need to do something that isn’t fighting,” Dean told her. “We’ll call you if we need you.”

She frowned, but Cas looked thoughtful and that was probably an improvement over uncertain. Adamel didn’t complain, and Dean bundled them both into the car before he turned back to ask, “You coming?”

“I have to go back,” Castiel said. “I only… I wanted to see them off.”

“Okay,” he said. He had no idea why that was important, but Cas obviously thought it was, so. “Thanks, I guess. You okay up there?”

“No,” Castiel said. “With Gabriel gone and you on the other side of the gates, Raphael is the oldest archangel in heaven. It’s causing problems for us.”

He paused with his hand on the driver’s side door. “You need me now?”

Castiel was standing on the other side, head tilted, his thoughtful expression replaced by something so sad it took Dean’s breath away. “No,” he repeated quietly. “I’m taking care of them.”

Dean froze. He didn’t get it, but he remembered thinking it, and right now that was the only thing in his head. “Cas, that wasn’t directed at you.”

“Who else do you pray to?” Cas knew what he was talking about, and that was bad. That meant that Dean was right. “You think you have to do everything, Dean. If you’ve given this one thing over to me –”

Dean slammed the door shut and Cas stopped talking. “Everyone out,” he told the kids. “Out of the car, right now.”

There was a flutter of air, and both children were standing in front of him. “Do you want to go to school?” he asked them, point-blank.

Maribel was just as matter-of-fact. “No.”

“But we’ll go if you tell us to,” Adamel said.

Dean looked at Cas over the top of the car. “What do you think?” he asked.

“I think they’re more valuable here,” Castiel said. “You’re unstable, and they ground you. I think that by trying to avoid your father’s mistakes, you’re making them yourself.”

Dean blinked. “Wow, Cas. Don’t hold back or anything.”

“I think this is the worst possible time for the garden to be taking things from you,” Castiel said fiercely. “I wish you had let me destroy it when we first realized what it was.”

The garden. Weird new eden created by Cas when his special god-light turned out to be more than just a pretty glow? Yeah, he totally had this. “I didn’t forget,” he said. “I’m okay, Cas.”

“You asked me to marry you last night,” Castiel said. “You said you loved me and it would be forever. This morning you can’t even say hello.”

Okay, yeah. That was… new.

“That’s pretty selective,” Dean said carefully, because when had he gotten the balls to say something like that to Cas? That really didn’t sound like the kind of thing he could forget. But that was what the garden did, right? It took the most important parts?

Castiel sighed like he’d heard it all before. “I have to go,” he said, and this time he sounded sullen. “At least keep the children with you. They seem to buffer the connection to some extent.”

“Fine, I get it.” Dean glanced at the kids. “No school today. Check.”

“Please be safe,” Castiel said, and it sounded like a familiar entreaty even though he couldn’t remember Cas ever having said it. “I’m sure – I hope your memory will return soon.”

“Hey,” Dean said, trying to work it out and failing. He plunged ahead anyway. “Cas. Hi. I’m coming with you.”

“You can’t,” Castiel said. “We need you here.” Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Cas shook his head like he knew what was coming.

“I don’t have time to explain,” he said, looking away. “Just – find Sam. He can tell you what’s happening.”

“I know what’s happening,” Dean snapped. “You just said me being on earth is causing problems in heaven. So let’s go.”

The glare Castiel turned on him was impressive. “No,” he said.

He was gone, just like that. Dean tried to remember the last time Cas had slammed the door in his face, but the fact that he couldn’t apparently didn’t mean anything. “Is he pissed at me a lot lately?” he asked.

“Yes,” Maribel said. “You say that’s how you know he loves you.”

Dean considered that. It sounded like the kind of BS explanation he’d give a kid. It also sounded like the kind of excuse he’d give himself, and he didn’t like that Maribel could repeat it back to him.

“That’s a load of crap,” he told her. “You know how you know someone loves you? They make stuff that’s important to you important to them. That’s it. That’s the whole secret, so next time I tell you that you gotta yell and scream at someone to show ’em you care, you tell me that’s crap. Okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“He keeps the garden for you,” Adamel said unexpectedly. “You take care of us for him.”

Dean opened his mouth to say he took care of them because they were awesome, and he got as far as “I take care of you –” before he realized what had just happened. Adamel had offered an opinion on him and Cas. He’d told Dean what he thought voluntarily, without being asked.

“Because you’re awesome,” Dean finished, but then he added, “Adamel, you got something to say?”

Adamel lifted his chin, and Dean wondered where he’d learned that. “I think you love each other,” he said. “By your own definition.”

He sure hadn’t learned to talk about sappy stuff like love from Dean. Which was stupid, really, since Lucifer wasn’t exactly a great role model and Sam had the worst track record with romance in the history of humanity. “Yeah,” Dean said. “I think you’re, uh. I think you’re right?”

There was a reason he didn’t talk about it, after all. He sucked at it. On the other hand, if he didn’t want baby angels growing up like him, maybe he had to make more of an effort.

“I should go after him,” Dean muttered. He wasn’t sure whether saying it out loud was part of “talking about it more” or if it was just a huge mistake, but at least he’d thought it. And Maribel was staring at him like she didn’t get it at all.

“He told you not to,” she said.

“Yeah,” Dean said, frowning. And the weirdest part was that there might have been a good reason. He didn’t think there was, other than Cas being pissed, but how did he know what he remembered and what he didn’t? “Is he right?”

Maribel and Adamel looked at each other, and Dean realized what he was doing. Kids shouldn’t have to take sides. That was a douche move, no matter how accidental.

“Sorry, scratch that,” he said. “Don’t… just. Never mind. Where’s Sam?”

“I don’t know,” Maribel said. “Can’t you find him?”

Dean tried, but she was right. Sam was gone. Which made no sense, except that he’d been looking for Gabriel who was also gone. And if that didn’t give Dean a bad feeling, nothing would.

“Tirla,” he said, turning around and catching sight of her just as he made a full circle. Right where he’d been looking before. “You think whatever’s taking reapers could be taking angels too?”

She stared at him. “No,” she said, when he raised his eyebrows. “The kind of power required to hold a reaper is too different from what you’d need to hold an angel. Anyone strong enough to do both wouldn’t need either of them.”

The enochian warding on the building where Tessa had been held flashed through his mind. “What if they cancel each other out?” he heard himself ask. “What if someone wants one to get the other?”

Tirla’s expression didn’t change. “To what end?”

Dean shrugged. “Beats me. Is it possible?” This part was usually Sam’s job, and he was already pulling out his phone. Just because the angel network couldn’t find Sam didn’t mean he was gone.

“It’s not unprecedented,” Tirla said, and Dean paused.

“What?”

“Death chose you,” Tirla pointed out. “To balance Castiel’s new creation. And whatever else he may be, Castiel is still… angelic.”

Cas, Dean thought. The reapers might be after you.

Stop them, was the immediate response.

Not mine, Dean protested. The ones that are disappearing. Tirla thinks someone might be trying to even out the whole life and death thing.

They’ll have to get in line. It sounded weirdly familiar, but Dean put it down to the human turn of phrase. Cas used them with more certainty when he was irritated.

The phone was still ringing, and Sam still wasn’t picking up. Dean snapped it shut and it beeped at him, which he almost ignored. Except that glancing at the display was automatic, and really, he’d manage to miss a call in that amount of time?

“Dean!” Sam’s voice wasn’t coming over the phone. Dean flinched back from a horse that was really fucking scary up close. “Answer your phone!”

“Dude, I was calling you!” Dean exclaimed. “What the hell are you doing?”

Sam looked breathless and wild and hungry. “I need help,” he said. “Gabriel’s being a moron.”

“What else is new?” The words were out before Dean even knew what they were talking about. “Wait, you’ve seen her? You found Gabriel?”

“Kind of.” Sam didn’t look at all sure. “She doesn’t think so.”

“Is she okay?” It shouldn’t be the first thing he asked, not after Gabriel ditched them, definitely not with Sam looking the way he did. Except maybe it was because Sam looked the way he did: he actually liked Michael’s obnoxious little sister, and damned if Dean could ignore that.

“No.” Sam didn’t look okay either, and Dean wondered how long he’d been… had he even slept?

He opened his mouth to tell Maribel and Adamel to go back to the garrison, but Maribel beat him to it.

“Jesse needs Adamel,” she said. “Gabriel needs me.”

Dean glanced down at her, and she added, “I was the first. I can heal things you can’t.”

“She’s not broken,” Sam choked out.

“Yes, she is.” Maribel blinked solemn little-girl eyes up at him. “Or you wouldn’t look like that.”

Dean caught Adamel’s eye and nodded. Sharply delicate wings swirled around him and he was gone, registering near Wildfire instantly. Maribel was telling Sam, “You should eat something.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, obviously distracted. “I will. Later. Dean, how’d you fix that thing with you and future Cas and the Colt? You did, right? Cas said you changed it; how?”

Dean frowned. “That wasn’t – what? It wasn’t the future.”

“Cas said it was your nightmare,” Sam said. “How did you fix it?”

“I –” Dean looked at Maribel, but she was waiting too. “I changed the ending. Did Cas say I fixed it?”

“How?” Sam demanded. “How do you change the ending of something someone else created?”

“Sam,” Dean said.

“Yes!” Sam exclaimed. “Cas said you fixed it, okay! You started a farm, he made a hammock, I don’t know! I don’t know how to do it!”

“Sam!” Dean knew better than to grab someone like Sam when he was freaking out, but the instinct to hold onto him, to keep him from flying apart was still there. “Calm down!”

Sam drew in a deep breath, burying his hands in his hair. He stared at Dean like today was the end of all days, but his voice was even when he said, “I found Gabriel. She’s at our house. In the future. Only she thinks it’s now, and I’m not real.”

“She’s hallucinating,” Dean said.

“She’s created her own reality,” Maribel said. “Like she did at the Roadhouse.”

Sam’s eyes snapped to her. “Yes! It’s the same, it’s like –” He stopped, took another breath. Took his hands out of his hair, but couldn’t seem to find anything else to do with them. “It’s like the things she used to show me about – about our kids. Except she’s not just visiting anymore. She really thinks she’s there.”

“Can she leave?” Dean asked bluntly.

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted. “I can’t – she won’t talk to me. It’s like she doesn’t even see me.”

“You think she wants to?” If Gabriel wasn’t satisfied with the world anymore, maybe she thought she could do better. Dean still wasn’t convinced there was anyone behind Gabriel’s disappearance but Gabriel herself. “Maybe this is her choice, Sam. Maybe she’s found what she’s willing to do, and she’s doing it.”

“Staying out of the fight?” Maribel guessed.

Dean didn’t like it, but it was better than nothing. “She’s not against us, at least.”

“Dean.” Sam was giving him the disappointed look, like Dean was the one walking away here. “This is what Zachariah does. To you, to me… why not to Gabriel?”

“Because Gabriel is a thousand times stronger than Zachariah!” Dean exclaimed. “There’s no hall of mirrors she can’t see through!”

“What if she doesn’t want to!” Sam didn’t look any less wild with his hair messed up and his cheeks hollow, the tinge of desperation clinging to him no matter what he did. “What if this is my fault, Dean? She always gets what she wants, she doesn’t know how to deal with –”

“Sam,” Dean interrupted. “Sam, it’s not your fault. Show us where Gabriel is. We’ll get her out, okay? If she disappears after that, it’s her choice.”

Sam looked horrified, but he nodded, eyes still wide like he’d go along with anything that got them moving in the right direction. Which was toward Gabriel, apparently. How had Sam even found her?

It wasn’t until Sam put his hand on the shoulder of the stallion shadowing him that Dean got it. Sam hadn’t gone looking for Gabriel. Famine had gone looking for War.

He’d found her at the house Gabriel had been converting, slowly but thoroughly, ever since Maia had become part of their lives. Except this was the house Michael knew… one he’d seen before Sam had even looked twice at Gabriel. This was a house with a dog, a mailbox, and a plastic kids’ pool in the yard.

“Let’s go!” Gabriel was shouting from the porch. Back into the house, which was the kind of theatrics she usually enjoyed. “We don’t have all year! What do you think this is, time travel?”

The voice from inside the house sounded so much like Sam that Dean actually checked to make sure his brother was still standing next to him. “The mountain’s not going anywhere, Gabriel!” There was a scraping sound at one of the windows, and then, more clearly: “We’d be done faster if you’d come help us.”

It was Sam hanging out the window on the end, smirking down at the archangel on the steps. He didn’t give any indication that he could see the three of them standing in the yard. “Seriously, packing is a learned skill. You might not be so bad at it if you tried it once in a while.”

“I don’t need to pack,” Gabriel complained. “Hello, archangel! Phenomenal cosmic powers, itty bitty living space!”

“Gabriel,” Sam said, only this time it was the Sam standing next to Dean who was talking. “Gabriel, come on. We need you.” He didn’t say it like he thought it would matter, and Dean glanced sideways at him in time to see him look away.

Because if there was one thing Sam didn’t expect Gabriel to do, it was listen to him.

“How much of this is real?” Dean asked under his breath. He could see Gabriel’s wings as well as any of them; it was definitely her. But the illusion of Sam was convincing too, and he didn’t have to see the kids in the house to know they were there.

“Don’t you know?” Sam’s eyes were bright and he looked helpless, but he also looked… normal, somehow. Better than he had a few minutes ago, and that didn’t make any sense. “It’s your vision, or whatever. Is this what happens?”

Dean looked back at the porch. Gabriel was staring at them.

Sam followed his gaze, and he started forward when he saw Gabriel watching. “Gabriel,” he said. “We can do this. We can make this happen, okay? But we have to do it together.”

“Sam!” Gabriel shouted. She didn’t look away, but the volume made it clear she was talking to someone behind her. “You know what they say about the man who wouldn’t come to the mountain!”

It was the Sam in front of her who answered. “You bring the mountain to you,” he said, “and it’s not the same mountain. You know that.”

“Fuck you,” Gabriel said. “Something’s better than nothing.”

She turned and walked back into the house while Sam was still staring. Dean caught his eye when he started to move, and Sam looked more than a little wild when he asked, “That just happened, right? She talked to me? I didn’t imagine that?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, when Sam actually waited for an answer. “Sounded like she was talking to you.”

Sam didn’t look appeased. “Am I nothing?” he demanded. “Is that what this is? Gabriel having a hissy fit over not getting her way?”

Dean raised an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know what you’re not giving her?”

“She’s an archangel, why does she even need sex!” Sam exclaimed. “That’s not even her real body!”

“Whoa!” Dean put his hands over his ears, taking a step back to make it extra obvious. “TMI, Sammy. I don’t need to know what my brother’s doing with my –” He thought it, but he couldn’t make himself say it. “Just don’t. Okay?”

“Fucking angels,” Sam muttered, and Dean didn’t even have to hear it. He could read the words on Sam’s lips.

“Guess not,” Dean said, taking his hands away from his ears.

Sam glared at him, and Dean shrugged. “I get it, she’s being a jerk, no argument here. Can we go now?”

“I don’t think this is Gabriel’s illusion,” Maribel said out of nowhere.

“It is,” Sam said. “I’ve seen it before.”

“I’ve been in her pocket dimensions before,” Maribel said. “This feels different.”

That was true, as far as it went. “You think someone created it for her?” Dean asked. There wasn’t anything binding her to it; she was still choosing to stay.

“I don’t know,” Maribel said, looking from him to Sam and back again.

“But you have an opinion,” Dean said.

“Yes,” she agreed.

“So tell us,” Sam said impatiently. “I’m fresh out of ideas here.”

“I think you’ve been sent places you wouldn’t leave,” Maribel said, still looking at Dean. “I think someone knew exactly how to keep you there. I think Gabriel’s weakness isn’t responsibility, it’s belonging. She needs to feel like she’s part of something that needs her.”

“She’s been on her own for thousands of years,” Sam said. “I think she’s adjusted.”

“Yes,” Maribel repeated. “She’s been alone a long time.”

That was all she said, and Sam looked at Dean.

He shrugged. “Kid’s got a point.”

“I don’t need her,” Sam said. “That’s not even – what happened to free will?” he demanded. “Why is all of this inevitable? Don’t we get to choose anything?”

“You chose to be here,” Maribel pointed out. “You chose to come after her.”

“You could leave,” Dean agreed. “If this doesn’t matter, let’s get out of here already.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Sam said sharply, “but you’re very death-like today. I’m hungrier than I was yesterday, and that’s saying a lot. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that our powers went crazy when Gabriel disappeared.”

Dean was about halfway through the appropriate denial in his head when the whole thing caught up with him. “We need all four of us,” Dean said. “For what? For balance?”

“Does it matter?” Sam countered. “With her, we’re okay. Without her… I honestly have no idea what will happen.”

“You need her,” Maribel said.

Sam threw up his hands. “Fine, yes. We need her. If someone else is creating this, how do we stop them?”

“Maybe you tell her that,” Maribel said. “She doesn’t seem to know.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“That we need her,” Dean muttered. “Jesus, when did this turn into such a sap fest.” He pointed at Sam. “I blame you, just so you know.”

Sam stared at him. “What did I do?”

“Looks like not enough,” Dean said. He didn’t have any room to talk and he knew it, but it’d never stopped him before. “Man up and confess your undying love. We need to get out of here.”

“Dude.” Sam was eyeing him like the hypocrite he was. “She knows I love her. I don’t think that’s the problem.”

“Right then.” Gabriel’s voice drifted through the door to them, accompanied by an awful lot of footsteps and banging and cheeriness that seemed out of place in a self-imposed prison. “Here we go, everybody out!”

The kids who spilled out of the house in front of her looked familiar and not, human children Dean hadn’t met, angels he’d only seen when Michael’s grace pushed him so far forward that Cas had to bring him back. The girl had a backpack over her shoulders and a leash in her hand. The boy was dragging a backpack on the ground behind him while their obnoxious terrier of a dog chased it, trying to bite the backpack even as the boy pulled it away.

“Maybe it’s us she misses,” Maribel said. “What if it’s not Sam at all? What if it’s the garden?”

“She’s part of the garden,” Dean said, watching the other Sam follow Gabriel out onto the porch. He was holding her hand, reaching back to close the door behind them. “She has Maia; we can’t cut her off.”

“Maybe that’s not enough,” Maribel said.

The other Sam had an actual key, and he had to let go of Gabriel’s hand to use it. The moment he turned around Maribel was there, standing next to Gabriel on the porch. Reaching for her free hand.

Gabriel ignored her right up until the moment their fingers connected. Michael saw Maribel’s wings flash as Gabriel’s swept out, the clash of grace exploding between them. He couldn’t tell who had swung first, who had meant what, but Maribel’s tiny body splintered a porch pillar when she was thrown back and he shoved Gabriel into the deck without a second thought.

“We need you,” Michael growled, ignoring the power that roiled underneath him. “This isn’t your life, Gabriel. Get it together.”

Gabriel’s wings were ferocious and blinding and only partially pinned by his anger and frustration. She could force herself free. It would tear at the sum of their grace like trying to cut it out, but she could do it.

She didn’t. All she said was, “Sam.”

Calmly, evenly, like she was holding the door for him instead of crushed against the ground by his older brother. Michael almost drew back – except that this was Gabriel. Everything she did was a trick.

The Sam at the door of their house stepped forward and offered her a hand. Dean’s Sam ran up the steps and almost fell over his own feet trying to stop. He brushed up against the other Sam anyway and in an instant the illusion went staticky and invisible. Gone like a ghost that was never there.

“Why Sam?” Michael demanded. “He’s human, what do you even care?”

Gabriel turned her head, cheek pressed against wooden slats as she looked away. The power didn’t ebb, but neither did it explode. He could see Maribel sitting cross-legged in the grass, pulling a sweatshirt around her little shoulders. Unhurt. But she wasn’t what Gabriel was looking at.

Michael didn’t have to turn to guess that the other children hadn’t disappeared. “They’re not his,” he said harshly. “You don’t have to be with Sam to have kids.”

He likes me, Gabriel thought, and Michael wasn’t impressed.

“We all fucking like you!” he snapped. “You’re our sister; that’s our job!”

Gabriel’s grace roared to life, setting him back on his heels. Almost throwing him off. “He doesn’t have to!” she shouted. “He’s crazy, you asshole, he hates angels! He hates gods! The only things he thinks are funny are cartoons and websites with hit counters on them!”

“He’s standing right there,” Michael told her. Because he didn’t get it, but he definitely didn’t get why Gabriel would turn her back on it.

“He’s going to die,” Gabriel retorted. “You and your stupid war, I told you I didn’t want it! I told you I wouldn’t do it! Now I have to and the world burns either way!”

“The world only burns if we let it,” Michael said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna get in its way.”

“Yeah, on horseback,” Gabriel snapped. “Great, Death is watching out for us. I feel so much safer.”

Michael grabbed her hand. “You want someone else to wear this?” he demanded, holding it up for her to see. “You hate war, Gabriel, that’s why you have the damn ring in the first place. You bail on us now… we find a new fourth or the riders go down. Those are the only choices. And I’m not about to put that ring on Raphael’s finger.”

“You wouldn’t,” Gabriel said.

“No,” Dean agreed. “But we’re not gonna make it with three.”

She didn’t move her head, but her eyes slid to Sam.

“You saw me when we were after Famine,” Sam said, and his voice sounded steadier than either of theirs. “I don’t want to do that again.”

“You can’t guilt me into this.” Gabriel glared at him. “I’m not your brother. I don’t actually care what happens to any of you.”

Sam laughed, and Dean wondered what was wrong with him now. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work this time,” he said. “Come on. Let’s just go home, okay?”

“I am home,” Gabriel said. “Leave me alone.”

“Only one of us can be a deadbeat at a time,” Dean told her.

“Well, you’ve got that covered,” Gabriel muttered, her glowing gaze avoiding all of theirs. “Can’t even let me cower in peace, you stupid jerk.”

“Bastard,” Dean said. “You made Cas mad at me, don’t think I didn’t notice. With your stupid, ‘ooh, I’ll be a woman and Sam will like me better.’ Like he wasn’t insecure enough about the human thing. Thanks a lot.”

“Get over yourself,” Gabriel scoffed. “Cas doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing; that’ll make anyone pissy. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

“Maia didn’t sleep last night,” Maribel remarked. She was playing with a piece of grass, but her words made Gabriel freeze. Just for a second.

Then she was shoving at Dean, pushing him off of her with a very human resignation. “You manipulative ants,” she grumbled. “I hate all of you.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “If we pretend to be convinced by that, will you come with us?”

“Only if you want Zachariah to know the game is up,” Gabriel said. “What about you?” She was sitting back, braced against the porch’s unbroken pillar, kicking Dean’s knee when he didn’t move out of the way fast enough for her. “Can you – spin this off, or whatever you do? Keep it going while we’re not here?”

Dean frowned, glancing over at Sam. He got the strategic part of it. It was the rest he wasn’t so sure about. “You think that’s a good idea?”

“You kept yours,” Gabriel said darkly.

When Sam didn’t say anything, Dean muttered, “Fine, whatever. Where are you going?”

Gabriel didn’t blink. “Acadia.”

Obviously, he thought. “Get out of here,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He felt them go, felt Sam gather Gabriel and Maribel both, and there was the sound of hooves in their wake. Michael pretended to be Gabriel as long as he could, but the illusion fought him every second. It hadn’t been built for him. It wasn’t his dream in the first place, no matter what Gabriel said.

Cas arrived before he could let go, and Dean almost didn’t recognize him.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asked curiously.

It wasn’t as easy to talk as it should have been. “Trying to hold onto Gabriel’s daydream.”

Cas looked around. Just like that, the thing stabilized. All of it. Everything Dean knew about Gabriel’s vision and a few things he didn’t, couldn’t have known. They were all just there, like they existed independent of what he was focusing on.

Dean took a breath that might have been a gasp, hoping his voice didn’t sound as bad as he thought it did. “You did it.”

Cas tilted his head. “I didn’t do anything,” he said, frowning. “You should stop changing time like that. I don’t think we’re meant to interfere.”

“I didn’t change it!” Dean exclaimed. “It wasn’t even real until you got here!”

“Everything you perceive is real,” Castiel said. “It just doesn’t necessarily interact with other things that are also real.”

“Cas,” Dean said. “I’m having a crappy day. Don’t creep me out more than you have to.”

Cas just looked at him. “You’re having a crappy day?”

It probably shouldn’t have made Dean smile, but that deadpan expression looked too tired for humor and Cas was still gentle about it. “Could be worse,” he admitted. “Thanks for fixing Gabe’s thing.”

“I assume that insisting I didn’t fix it will only cause further argument.” His expression had softened and he sounded almost amused, so Dean figured he’d done something right. “So… you’re welcome.”

It was weird that being forgiven made him more nervous about what to say next instead of less. He avoided the issue as best he could. “Hey, any weird horseman symptoms lately? Sam thinks having Gabe disappear might have messed us up.”

Castiel frowned. And, okay, he could have done that better. Probably. He had no idea how, and he didn’t know what else to say that wouldn’t annoy Cas more. He tried again anyway.

“Sam says he’s hungry,” Dean offered. “And apparently I look like death. Whatever that means.”

“This is… not meant as an insult?” Castiel asked, studying him.

Dean shrugged. “You tell me.”

“You don’t look like death to me,” Castiel said. “Except in the sense that you…”

He paused, and it went on long enough that Dean raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Except that you appear mortal,” Castiel said slowly. “Why do you still appear mortal?”

Dean wanted to joke, perk of humanity, but Cas would probably get it and he wouldn’t like it. “Dunno,” he said instead. Because he knew what they were talking about: Sam had it too, the brightness of a soul in a temporary vessel. Not the steady light of grace, but the sparkle of something that would one day disappear.

“Maybe I still think of myself as human,” he offered. “You think that would do it?”

“Why?” Cas didn’t look appeased. “You’re farther from human than ever.”

Dean took that as a yes. “I chose to be human,” he said. “Maybe the identity we choose is the strongest one.” When we start forgetting who we are, he thought but didn’t say aloud.

Castiel didn’t answer. He didn’t protest, either, and Dean wondered if he’d screwed up until he realized that Cas was comparing that to family. “Yeah,” Dean said without thinking. Then, when Cas stopped looking so far away he added, “Like that.”

Instead of smiling, Cas said, “Sam has accused me of being moody lately. Is this so grave a condition that it’s made you afraid to speak to me?”

Dean stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You hesitate.” Cas looked like he thought that was all he had to say, but Dean’s silence prompted him to go on. “Before you speak to me, sometimes. You never used to do this.”

The denial was automatic, and he knew Cas heard it even when he kept himself from saying it. No I don’t.

“Yes, you do,” Cas told him.

He knew it was working when he found himself wanting to smile at Cas instead of snap at him. “You get that you just accused me of thinking before I speak, right?” When Cas only frowned, he continued, “You basically just said, ‘hey, you’re being less of a jerk lately, what’s going on with that?’”

“That was not the intent of my question,” Castiel said.

“I know,” Dean said. And he did; he probably could have done that better. But there had to be some kind of happy medium between not blurting out every single thing that came to mind and second guessing everything he said. “But that’s my intent, okay? I’m trying to… you know. Be less of a jerk.”

Cas looked like he couldn’t decide whether to make a snarky comment or worry that Dean had been replaced by a shifter. “I like that you speak your mind.”

Dean liked that he could say that with a straight face, but there was probably a more important message there. “I like it when you do too,” he told Cas. “Tell me what’s going on with you, okay? I can’t help if I don’t know.”

Cas didn’t look away. Just like before, like asking him what he thought unlocked a secret door to his brain, he said, “I miss the heaven I knew. The heaven you’re changing, rebuilding. You say you choose to be human, but I fear I’ll never know how to be anything but an angel. I worry I’m not compatible with the world you dream of.”

Dean blinked, because what the hell did he say to that? “You are,” he said. “You’re why I’m doing this, Cas. I want you to be able to go home.”

“I have a home,” Castiel said, frowning. Dean knew he meant the house. “We have a home.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We do. We got a home wherever we’re together, Cas. You’re allowed to have more than one home, you know? And I know how much heaven means to you.”

“Not more than you,” Castiel said.

“Yeah,” Dean repeated, giving him a rueful smile. “Believe me, you’ve made that clear. You’ll choose – you chose, I know that. I just think you shouldn’t have to.”

“I want to,” Cas insisted. “Dean, this was never about what I lost. All that matters to me is what I’ve gained.”

“It matters to me,” Dean said sharply. It mattered to him a lot, and he didn’t know how to say it so the words were just going to have to do. He’d never wanted Cas to lose everything he had. Dean had always had Sam: family was worth more than anything, and to see Cas without anyone was like seeing him swept up in the flood and trying to hold on.

“Dean,” Cas murmured. “You’re my family now.”

“Damn straight,” Dean agreed. “C’mere.”

Cas did, and it was easy. For once, something was exactly as easy as Dean wanted it to be. He heard car doors slamming and kids yelling out the windows and none of it mattered, because he was holding Cas and they were the only real thing in the world.

“You need help in heaven?” he asked at last.

“Yes,” Castiel said without pulling away. “But if you’re experiencing symptoms of death, we should find Sam and Gabriel first.”

“See if being together stabilizes us,” Dean muttered. He didn’t want to let go, but he had to unless they wanted to make a scene. He straightened Castiel’s shirt as he went, tweaking a couple of feathers back into place over Castiel’s shoulder. “You ready?”

“Dean.” The kids were louder than before, but Cas ignored them as he fisted his fingers in Dean’s jacket. Dean smiled, letting himself be pulled in again. It was an idyllic place to be kissing anyone, but most of all Cas: they’d been at war since before they met and there weren’t enough moments like these.

The shirt under his hands was thin, and Cas’ jacket trapped the heat of the sun against their skin. The clothes felt weird but he didn’t care, he’d fix them later. It was the closeness he wanted, the kiss and the kind of relief that came with knowing Cas was there. Still with him.

Something clicked, an electronic sound like a camera, and Dean might have ignored it if Castiel hadn’t gone still.

“Aw,” a too-familiar voice said. “Aren’t you sweet! Guess you’re lucky there’s no superstition about the grooms seeing each other before the ceremony.”

Dean drew back, hands landing on Cas’ arms as he tried to reorient himself. Cas was holding onto his coat, black suit jacket warm in the sunny summer air. His eyes were wide and they were surrounded. The Roadhouse was crawling with friends, family, people they knew and there were flowers everywhere.

“Mom wants to know if you’re gonna be on time,” Jo continued, grinning down at her camera as he turned to look at her. “She says if you’re going to keep everyone waiting after they’re seated that’s fine, but if you want the food to be awesome you’d better follow the plan.”

“Right,” Dean said. Jo was wearing a red dress with actual flowers in her hair, and she tipped the camera up to take another picture as he stared at her. “Uh, the plan is… very important. We’ll definitely follow it.”

He glanced at Cas, whose startled gaze made it very clear he had no idea what the plan was either. Which was really terrible timing, because usually when Dean forgot he could at least count on Cas to get him through it. “What’s the plan again?”

“You’re hopeless,” Jo told him. “You have ten minutes until everyone’s in place. Sam’ll be here in five: don’t hide on him or he’ll yell at me, and you delinquents are totally not my fault. Everyone else is already inside seating people. You need anything?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Two minutes alone.”

Jo gave him a suspicious look. “No fluttering off,” she said.

He held up his hand, and holy shit. There was a ring on the third finger of his left hand. He was so surprised he barely managed to get out, “Scout’s honor,” but Jo rolled her eyes anyway.

“Swear on something that’s real,” she said.

“Stand over there and watch us if you don’t believe me,” Dean said. “Seriously, Jo. We have a little problem here; we need a minute.”

“Problem?” She lowered her camera, gaze darting from one of them to the other. “What kind of problem?”

“The kind of problem we need to talk about alone,” Dean said.

“Hey!” Sam called, looming around the crowd at the doors and dodging people the way only giants could. “Jo, Jophiel’s got your flowers. You guys ready?”

Of course they wouldn’t get time alone on their –

Dean gave up and leaned into Cas, whispering as quietly as he could, “I have no idea what’s going on.”

He expected Cas to close his eyes, to be disappointed or upset or maybe even, if he was really lucky, a little amused. Dean had a sinking feeling that today was important – so ridiculously important – and he’d just lost all the lead up. He loved that garden as much as anything, but he wanted to remember his wedding day.

What he didn’t expect was for Cas to tilt his head and breathe against his ear, “Neither do I.”

Dean felt a chuckle escape, because yeah. That figured. That was just awesome.

Somehow, though, having Castiel in it with him for once made it better. He was lost, but Cas was with him and no one else seemed worried. Worst case, they asked Sam what they were supposed to be doing. Right?

“They want some time alone,” Jo was saying. “Dean says we’re allowed to stand nearby and watch them to make sure they don’t disappear on us.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “New plan. You guys should probably, uh. Join us.”

There were two huge pavilion-style tents set up behind the building, and parking out front was off the charts. Dean didn’t have to see the whole place to know how mobbed it was. Which was weird, really – did they even know that many people? He was sure this many people didn’t know Cas.

“So when you say it’s a little problem,” Jo began.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, and Dean held up a hand in Jo’s direction.

“Hang on,” he said, and Cas let himself be pulled away. “You okay?” Dean asked softly. “It’s the garden, right? This ever happened to you before?”

“I don’t know.” Cas was frowning. “It doesn’t seem familiar. But I suppose it wouldn’t, if I’ve forgotten.” Like you do went unspoken.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Dean murmured. Sam had caught up with Jo, and they were whispering to each other too. Probably not listening. On the other hand, did it matter if they were? He figured he and Cas were going to have to tell them anyway.

“Kissing you,” Cas said immediately.

Dean had to smile. “Yeah,” he said, glancing down at Cas’ suit again. He made it look damn good, and Dean was glad there’d be pictures of this at least. In case amnesia ever wiped the rest of the day too. “Me too. When, though? ’Cause I don’t remember this morning at all.”

“I don’t know,” Cas repeated. “This isn’t right, Dean. The garden doesn’t seem any different than it did before.”

“It wouldn’t,” Dean said. “That’s what it’s like; you forget and the garden is the only thing that seems normal. When the rest of it comes back… you don’t get what the garden used to be like until the rest of it comes back.”

Cas didn’t look any less perplexed. “How do you –”

He broke off before he could finish, and Dean got it. He totally understood the frustration of not knowing: what you’d forgotten, how long before it came back, whether you’d even know if it had or not. He couldn’t ask Cas, because Cas didn’t know, and they couldn’t ask the host because all signs pointed to this being their wedding day. Probably a sore subject in heaven.

“We just wait,” Dean said quietly. “It’ll come back. Pretty sure us being together will help.”

Cas was searching his gaze. “I don’t like this,” he said.

“Me neither,” Dean agreed. “But look, they’re having a party. Odds are it’s for us. Might as well enjoy it, right?”

Cas blinked, looking away at last, his eyes scanning their surroundings with a sharp curiosity that didn’t look as surprised as it had before. “For us?” he said. “Why?”

He could be wrong. It wasn’t likely; he didn’t wear a suit to the Roadhouse for nothing. And Cas didn’t wear a suit at all, not lately. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Jo this dolled up. But still…

“Sam,” he called. The two of them had stopped whispering, and Sam took a step in their direction. “What’s going on inside?”

“Uh.” Sam exchanged glances with Jo. “The wedding party’s seating the rest of the guests? Ellen is looking at her watch, trying to guess how long it’s going to take me and Jo to get you guys to the aisle?”

“Are me and Cas getting married?” Dean asked bluntly.

Sam let out a huff that was half laugh, half incredulity. “That’s what the invitations said, yeah.”

“See,” Dean said, elbowing Cas. “Party for us. We have to go.”

“What’s going on?” Sam wanted to know. “Don’t tell me the garden’s being weird again. I thought you were getting that under control.”

“Yeah, well.” He could feel Cas’ arm against his. “It got both of us this time. We’re gonna need your help.”

“Both of you?” Sam echoed.

At the same moment, Castiel blurted out, “This is our wedding?”

Dean turned his head to grin at Cas, and he was right there. Dean couldn’t not do it. He leaned in a pressed a kiss to the side of Cas’ face, sneaking an arm around him at the same time. This whole day was seriously overdue. No matter how much he’d forgotten along the way, he couldn’t be upset that it was here.

“No,” Cas was saying. “This isn’t right. I wouldn’t have forgotten this.”

“Hey,” Dean said, tightening his grip. “It’ll come back. It always does, Cas; it’s gonna be fine.”

“But how did we get here?” Cas insisted. “It doesn’t make sense, I was –” He frowned. “What was I doing?”

“Uh, you drove here,” Sam offered. “If that helps? Two days ago. We did a double stag party, girls and guys together. Dean insisted. Everyone in the wedding party stayed over for the rehearsal yesterday. How far back did you forget?”

“Don’t know,” Dean said. “I remember proposing –” Kind of, it was a little fuzzy, but he remembered putting a ring on Cas’ finger which was the important part – “But nothing about the actual… none of this.” He waved in the direction of the Roadhouse, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Figures,” Sam said. “Of course you’d forget the hard part.” But he was smiling, he wasn’t making it into a big deal, and Dean could feel Cas relaxing a little against his side.

“You remember proposing?” Cas asked quietly.

Dean looked at him again, found Cas looking back and it was all he could do not to kiss him. “Sure,” he said, letting his gaze wander across Cas’ face. “I asked if you were a diamond kind of girl.”

Cas looked down, freeing his hand from where it had been trapped between them. He stared at it for a moment, at the plain gold band that matched the one on Dean’s left hand. “I must have said no,” he said at last.

“Must have,” Dean agreed, giving in to the impulse to kiss his temple again. “Change your mind? I’ll get you one if you want.”

“Ugh,” Jo said. “I can’t even breathe with how sweet you are. Sam, how do you stand them?”

“I mostly ignore them,” Sam said. “It gets easier the longer you’re around them.”

“Hey,” Dean said. “Is that a bridesmaid’s dress you’re wearing?”

Sam gave him an exasperated look that made Dean smirk, but Jo actually answered. “Yeah,” she said, like the question had been directed at her all along. “You and Cas weren’t much help, so Mom and I picked them.”

“Technically, she’s a groomsmaid,” Sam said. “With Sach and Jophiel and Claire. You get me and Ben.”

Dean did the math and raised his eyebrows. “That seems a little unbalanced.”

“Blame yourself,” Sam said. “Someone explained to the angels that the wedding party gets paired off, and after that Sach and Jophiel were… well. They’re gonna dance with each other.”

“And no one else,” Jo put in. “I can’t decide whether I wish I know what you said to them, or if I’m glad I don’t.”

Dean wished he knew what he’d said too, but there was still something weird about it. Not the numbers, exactly, just the… people. Or something. “You sure we’re not missing someone?” he asked. He wasn’t really joking.

“Dean,” Sam said. “Have you seen how many people are here?”

“Trust me,” Jo agreed. “We’re not missing anyone.”

“Except you,” Sam added. “You think you guys can do this? We can call it off and go straight to the party if you want.”

“Sam!” Jo exclaimed. “No we can’t! Look, Dean, you said this happens to you all the time. Sucks that it happened now, but when you get your memory back you’re gonna be pissed if you don’t go through with this.”

She didn’t have to convince him. There wasn’t much he wanted more than for this to happen, for it to work, for everyone to know that he and Cas were together. For Cas to know, to be able to point to that ring on his finger and say, I’m yours. Always yours, okay?

Which actually sounded kind of familiar. Maybe he’d already said it. It must have worked if they were here today.

“I’m in,” Dean said, when Cas didn’t answer. “There’s basically nothing that could keep me from marrying this guy, so. Cas? Your call.”

“Of course I’ll marry you.” Cas sounded distracted, like it had never been in question. “I will need some guidance, however. You said there was a rehearsal? I don’t remember it. I’m not sure what’s expected of me.”

“Well, Dean wasn’t paying attention,” Sam said. “So even if he did remember, he wouldn't know what he was doing. That’s what me and Jo are for.”

“Jophiel will be standing next to you,” Jo said. “She’s memorized all of it. I don’t think you have to worry.”

“Looks like all the work’s been done for us,” Dean offered. “And I’m pretty sure there’s food after, so.”

“There’s food,” Sam said.

“And dancing,” Jo said. “Bet you don’t remember any of your dancing lessons.”

“Shut up,” Dean said. “You’re supposed to be making us want to go.”

“I want to dance with you,” Castiel said unexpectedly. “It sounds pleasant.”

“Yeah, Dean,” Jo said. “It’s pleasant.”

“Fuck you,” he said, and she smirked at him.

“Dean,” Cas said. “That hardly seems an appropriate response.”

“Oh, believe me,” Dean told him. “I was thinking a lot worse.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “So, we have to go. All of us, I mean, but Jo and I… are you guys going to be okay? You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you.”

“Sammy,” Dean said, spreading his arms out to his sides. “When has that ever stopped us?”

“Go in the front door,” Sam said. “We took out the tables and brought in extra chairs, so there’s an actual aisle and everything. Cas wanted to walk,” he added, when Dean gave him a skeptical look. “You said you’d walk with him, so. You’re walking down the aisle together.

“The rest of us are lined up inside: Jophiel and Sach first, me and Jo next, Ben and Claire last. Wait ’til they get to the front, then you come in. Try not to pull each other’s pigtails on the way down the aisle.”

“Give us your rings,” Jo added. “Mom’s gonna make you repeat the vows and everything.”

They’d already gotten married, Dean realized. That was why they were both wearing rings. He couldn’t remember a second of it, and now didn’t seem like the time to ask. Not with Jo holding out her hand for Dean’s ring, and Cas staring at the dull glint of his own before he passed it to Sam.

“When did we get married?” he blurted out. Like he’d ever known when to keep his mouth shut.

Jo and Sam looked at each other, but it was Sam who answered. “You signed the papers yesterday,” he said. “You said it wasn’t official without rings. Cas backed you up.”

Of course he did.

“That made it legal,” Castiel guessed. “So we are… already married?”

“It’s not a wedding without a party,” Dean told him. “The ceremony’s today, so the party’s today.”

“Gives you some leeway with your anniversary, though,” Sam said.

Dean brightened. “Hey, yeah,” he said. “Didn’t think of that.”

“It’s one day,” Jo said. “How hard is that to remember?”

Dean grinned at her. “You’re asking the wrong person, sweetheart.”

She made a face like she got it, and Sam asked, “Are you guys okay? Seriously. We don’t have to do this.”

“We’re doing it,” Dean said. “Right, Cas?”

“Yes,” Cas agreed.

Jo smiled. Sam didn’t look totally convinced, but Sam worried about things too much. Dean figured he could remember how many people were supposed to go in front of him down the aisle of his own wedding. He wiggled his fingers in a mocking wave when Sam paused at the door and glanced back at them.

“Finally,” Dean said, when the door closed behind them. “It’s not rocket science, right? We walk into a room, we give each other rings, we kiss. How do we mess that up?”

“I’m not familiar with this ritual.” Cas was frowning again. “I must have studied it, I –” He stopped, shaking his head. “I don’t like not knowing.”

“Sucks, don’t it?” Dean tried to be sympathetic and he mostly was. But Cas hated it when Dean forgot, and it wasn’t like it was a picnic from his end. If they could get through it together, just this once –

“I realize you’ve been through this many times.” Cas’ voice was suddenly gentle. “I’m sorry if I’ve made it more difficult for you.”

“Nah,” Dean said. “You still know me. Not the same as waking up next to a guy who might smite you by accident.”

“I suppose not.” Cas considered this, then added, “You’re very Dean this time.”

“Guess we didn’t forget much,” Dean said. Which seemed weird. Cas have never been affected before – at least not like this – and yet the garden’s fluctuation wasn’t strong enough to mess with either of their identities.

“Perhaps we didn’t forget much that’s recent,” Castiel said. “We might have lost memories from long ago without even realizing it.”

“Great,” Dean said, even as music started to come from inside the Roadhouse. “You think we’re gonna need that?”

“Would the answer change anything?” Castiel asked.

Dean turned to stare at the door. “What are they playing?”

Cas hesitated just long enough that Dean knew he was going to answer. The comfort of the choir was right there, and maybe they were trying not to draw attention today but it was just a song. “Blue October,” Castiel said. “Sound of Pulling Heaven Down.”

“Huh,” Dean said, because he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Except for one thing. “Better than Bruno Mars, anyway.”

Cas gave him an odd look. “Who or what is Bruno Mars?”

“Some kid,” Dean said. “He does a wedding song about being trashed and breaking up. It’s weird; I don’t get it.”

“Marry You,” Cas said slowly. He must have known the song, because Dean hadn’t heard him ask anyone. But he hadn’t known the singer?

“Yeah,” Dean said, just as Jo and Sach got to the end of the “aisle” and Sam and Jo started after them. “You’ve heard it, huh? What do people like about it?”

“I couldn’t say.” Cas was frowning at the door now, and Dean couldn’t resist putting a hand on his shoulder. The frown eased as Cas turned to look at him.

“Hey,” Dean said. “We must have practiced this, but neither of us remember, so. You take my arm, or I take yours?”

The frown was back. “I don’t understand,” Cas told him. “Does this have to do with walking down the aisle?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. He nodded at the door. “We’re gonna do it just like Sam and Jo, okay?” The two of them were already separating, moving to opposite sides at the other end of the bar, so he watched Ben and Claire to make sure they knew what they were doing.

Ben offered his arm like a pro, and Dean had to smile. “Like that,” he said. “I’m gonna hold out my arm like this, and you see what Claire’s doing? Put your hand through here.”

There were a lot of advantages to being able to see through walls. Castiel copied Claire surprisingly well, and Dean decided there was no point in doing it again two seconds later. So they just stood there, arm in arm, until the kids made it down the aisle and Dean reached for the door. It didn’t really hit him until he pushed it open, and the crowd of people who’d come to see them – to watch them, him and Cas, being silly and corny and in love – was right there.

Cas moved forward first. Dean hadn’t thought about warning Cas to walk slowly or even doing it himself, but Cas must have taken his advice to follow Claire to heart. He didn’t walk exactly the way she did – thank god; Dean wasn’t up to the bridal shuffle – but he didn’t stride down the aisle, either. He was slow and measured and somehow Dean found his pace and matched it.

Everyone had turned around to watch them. Smiling, most of them, some taking pictures, but everyone was silent. If they hadn’t picked a loud song he would have wondered what they were doing there. Who packed a bunch of people into a room just so they could sit there and stare at each other?

The aisle had been short while they were standing outside, but walking down it with Cas seemed to take all afternoon. And that was putting one foot in front of the other. He had no idea how the rest of them had done it, with the whole step-slide-sashay-whatever.

In all that time, he managed to recognize exactly no one in the room. Which was ridiculous, he knew that, he must know everyone here. He just wasn’t ready to have them all… staring at him. All at once, in a weird sort of blur. Wasn’t the whole point of being the groom that you got to stand there and wait while everyone watched your fiancé instead?

He was stupidly grateful when he finally reached Sam and his brother slapped his shoulder and grinned at him. It made him take a breath, it made him look at Cas, and oh yeah. Right. That’s why he was here.

Cas didn’t loosen the grip on his arm until Dean slid his hand down to put their fingers together. Which, okay, either Cas was picking up on his freakout or he was actually nervous on his own, because he squeezed Dean’s hand and didn’t let go. Dean decided he was fine with that.

“Hello, boys,” Ellen said, and she was dressed up too. Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen her looking so… whatever. Didn’t really compare to Cas in a suit. Dean figured if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was stare at Cas, and it sure beat sneaking sideways glances at the crowd the whole time.

He had no idea what Ellen said. He did hear her ask if he was listening, somewhere toward the end, and he said no.

“Sorry,” he added, when people laughed. “I’m really not.”

“Cas?” Ellen said. She didn’t sound upset. She sounded pretty much the way she always sounded: skeptical, with a hint of menace. It was Ellen’s way of showing her love.

“Yes?” Castiel replied. He was staring back at Dean, and that was good. That was familiar.

“Are you listening?” Ellen repeated patiently.

Cas didn’t look at her. “Peripherally,” he said.

Dean smirked at him.

Ellen declared them perfect for each other, possibly on the basis of their mutual delinquency – he’d have to ask Jo later – and then she told them she knew they had rings because she’d seen him and Cas wearing them earlier. Sam took the cue, but Jophiel had to be nudged by Sach, who’d probably been prompted by Jo on her other side.

It didn’t matter to Dean, because Ellen asked him if he did – which was a stupid question, she’d met him, but Cas liked ritual – so he said, “I do.” And he definitely remembered putting that ring on Cas’ hand before… it had looked brighter with the sun on it, he thought.

When she asked Cas, he said, “Of course,” and Dean laughed while Cas slid his ring back onto his left hand.

Ellen probably told them that they could kiss, or that they were husbands now – god help them – or more likely both, but it was still a little too unbelievable for Dean. He could hear noise, clapping maybe, and he could feel the weight of metal against his skin, but mostly what he was aware of was Cas. Like they were fixed points in the swirl of a dream.

He pressed a warm kiss against Cas’ mouth, and he couldn’t help whispering, “Is this even real?”

“We are,” Cas murmured. Dean felt wings caress his shoulders, and he smiled.

“Good enough for me,” he said, leaning in for another kiss.

It was good enough for him through the pictures, the buffet line, and their first dance. It was good enough for him when the reception stretched into the late afternoon, all sunny skies and mostly good music, great food and people he didn’t get to see often enough. Or at all, lately.

It was good enough for him that evening, when the rest of the wedding party hustled them off toward an actual, honest-to-god honeymoon. Or so they told him. They also told him he had planned it, and Dean didn’t have a lot of confidence in his ability to pick things Cas would like.

“You picked the island,” Cas said when Dean mentioned it.

“It reminds you of heaven,” Dean said. “That was easy.”

“You built the house,” Cas reminded him.

“You like kitschy human things,” Dean said. “Also not a challenge.”

“Christian rock,” Cas said.

Dean rolled his eyes. “That was my mistake, believe me.”

“Sex,” Cas countered.

Dean laughed. “Everyone likes sex, Cas.”

“Driving,” he said.

“You only like that ’cause I do,” Dean pointed out.

It made Cas smile again. Dean hadn’t seen him smile this much since… Well, ever. “I think you know me very well,” Cas told him. “I have no doubt that you’ve managed to find something we’ll both enjoy.”

Unless it was a locked motel room with a minibar and no phone or wifi, Dean thought the odds were against him. But he was willing to find out. He was freakin’ married. He had a husband, and the husband was Cas. Life didn’t get any better than this.

“Well, aren’t you a cake-stealing twit,” a strange voice said.

Dean raised his eyebrows, trying to remember where he’d seen the source of that voice before. She looked familiar. Someone’s plus one, maybe. They’d probably been introduced. He hadn’t been paying much attention to anything that wasn’t Cas today.

“No?” she said, tilting her head and giving him a big-eyed innocent look. “Magic-sucking draft dodger? Yellow bag of hot air? Fucking dick? Any of these ringing a bell?”

“No,” Castiel whispered.

Dean couldn’t really be offended by the litany – it was funnier than it was insulting – except for one thing. Cas looked like the world was caving in. Whoever this was, he obviously knew her. And not in a good way.

“Hey,” Dean said sharply, trying to get between them without taking his eyes off of Cas. “You got some kind of problem?”

“Oh yeah,” the woman said. “I got a pile of problems, starting with how you lost Sam.”

She was creepy, so he stepped into Cas to keep contact with him while he looked around for Sam. His brother was standing by the Impala, hopefully defending it from anyone who got any stupid ideas about cans and paint. He looked up when Dean did and gave him a well? look. Sam had the tickets. Whatever they were for. All they had to do was go over there and get in the car.

“Gabriel.” Cas sounded like she was the end of everything, and Dean tried to remember.

“Asshole,” Gabriel replied. “Enjoying your little party? I hope the world is worth it, because guess what. Turns out you two were the only thing holding it together!”

Gabriel. An archangel, Dean thought. Their sister?

“Dean,” Cas said quietly. “I’m sorry. You were right; this isn’t real. But I won’t take it from you unless you tell me to.”

His brother’s lover. A woman who should have been at their wedding, but wasn’t. Because if he remembered her, he would remember –

“The kids,” Dean said, staring at Cas. “Where are the kids?”

Cas shook his head, looking away, and Dean snapped. “You knew? You knew and you didn’t tell me? What the hell kind of head game is this!”

“I didn’t know,” Cas said, his voice barely audible. “Not until now.”

Dean knew before he finished speaking: it wasn’t shame Cas was hiding by refusing to look at him. It was devastation. Dean’s campaign to be less of a jerk had just suffered a fatal blow, and fuck, he remembered that now. He remembered everything.

He was going to kill Zachariah.

“Hey, do us all a favor,” Gabriel was saying. “Be pissed off in the real world, because it ain’t doing squat here.”

Dean glared at her, but right now he owed exactly one person. The person who had spent all day smiling like he knew what it was to be happy for the first time in his life. The person who couldn’t even look at him now.

“Cas,” he said roughly. “That was a shitty thing to say. I freaked and… and you were in the way. I’m sorry.”

Cas looked at him, and the surprise on his face was about what Dean deserved.

“Maybe I wasn’t clear,” Gabriel said. “You stay here? The world burns. It’s halfway there already, so chop chop.”

“Yeah, we get the picture,” Dean growled. “Shut up for two seconds.”

“Lucifer took Sam,” Gabriel said.

The bottom dropped out from under him.

“Yeah,” Gabriel said. “Can we go now?”

He felt Cas’ hand on his shoulder. His left hand, and a glint of gold caught the edge of Dean’s gaze. Those fingers bore down, hard and reassuring, and he heard Cas say, “I’m ready.”

If only Dean was. He lifted his wings anyway and Gabriel caught them both up in her flight. Their wedding day whispered away into nothing.

The bridge was burning. It was actually on fire, flames blanketing the road and roaring up the lines in every direction, and for a moment he didn’t know which end was which. Hellfire or the fires of heaven: it didn’t even matter if there was nothing left.

The choir was pounding inside his head. Michael had no idea how the pale shadow of its comfort in Zachariah’s illusion had been enough to convince him. Gabriel would say he wanted to be convinced. Castiel would say anyone could be deceived. But at the end of the day, he was the one who had let this happen.

Michael closed his eyes, and everything on the bridge went cold and silent. The gate at Simea’s end was barred: tall, foreboding, and sparkling with frost in the moonlight. The lighthouse at Castiel’s end twinkled among the rocks, frozen on in an explosion of silver light. Reaching for the angels above.

There were wings everywhere and Michael blessed them all. He didn’t care who they swung a sword for when it was heaven, when it was home trying to rip itself apart. He could feel Zachariah far away and he didn’t care. Raphael commanded these soldiers and Raphael would stand down.

Or Michael would take them all back.

Castiel was crouched at Rachel’s side, the glow of creation stark against the twilight as he mended her broken grace. Gabriel was at the gate. They were missing one person, one soul who had always stood beside them. The balance to their faithless weapons.

“I’m going for Sam,” he heard himself say.

It echoed in the rush of stillness on the bridge, and Castiel rose against it.

“No,” Castiel said.

Behind him, Rachel stirred. The first motion save for them, but her wings weren’t the only ones fluttering to life. Castiel held out a hand to pull her up, but he didn’t take his eyes off of Dean. Lines of grace glowed, light racing outward, infusing them one by one as the garrison knit itself back together.

Dean felt it touch him, a warm flush of power in the midst of overwhelming ice. He was sworn to Castiel since that day at the Roadhouse. But he’d belonged to Sam since the day he was born, and nothing in heaven could make that end.

“He’s my brother,” Dean said harshly. “No fucking oath is gonna change that.”

Castiel looked as impenetrable as the gate itself. “If you need me to be angry with you,” he said, “I am. If you need me to yell and swear, I will. But nothing changes the fact that you’re not going to Sam without us at your back.”

Raphael wasn’t on the bridge. His garrison was stunned. Michael’s blessing slid from wing to wing, across a patchwork of faith and loyalty that was enough to keep the archangels in power. And when it reached Raphael, he thought that maybe it wasn’t how they’d been made after all. It was just who they were.

“Here’s the problem,” Gabriel said. “And by ‘the’ I mean, the only one Dean cares about. Lucifer’s not as smart about supernatural vessels as his press wants you to think.”

Castiel’s gaze flicked to her when she joined them in the middle of the road. “Famine’s ring.”

“Bingo,” Gabriel said. “No one can get anywhere near him without losing it.”

“He’s Famine,” Dean snapped. “So what. Eat a burger, let’s go.”

“Are you stupid?” Gabriel wanted to know. “The power of the rider depends on the power of the victim. No angel can stand against the apocalypse.”

“Lucifer can,” Dean said.

“Dean,” Castiel said. “Earth is in the balance while heaven lies in ruin. Because heaven lies in ruin. To forsake one for the other is to fail.”

Their swords were gone. From one end of the darkened bridge to the other, there wasn’t a weapon in sight.

“So cover heaven,” Dean told him. Castiel had gotten his soldiers back on their feet faster than Michael could. Heaven didn’t whisper the word ‘eloh’ behind his back for nothing. “I’ll get Sam myself.”

“You won’t,” Castiel said. It was nothing less than a statement of fact. “We do this together or not at all.”

His wings swept high over his shoulders, bright and implacable under a moon that had been absent from heaven’s sky for thousands of years. And Dean had been wrong about weapons, because those were foreign feathers showing through the glow of Castiel’s grace: arrows behind his back. A bow in his hand. The power rising around him breathed another name, and it wasn’t Pestilence.

It was Conquest.

When Dean looked back, all he saw was War at his shoulder. Her sword was sheathed: this wasn’t her fight. Maybe it never had been, but she would follow them because that was what they did. This was who they were. Dean had never been good at hunting alone.

“Fine,” he said, turning back to Cas. “Let’s ride.”

Three horses thundered across the realm, the white one in the lead. All the color leached out of heaven in their wake. Icy whorls curled around wounds and weapons alike. Swords fell, and silver light like blood stopped where it had spilled. Its course reversed like a river against the tide of time, ebbing grace strengthening behind them.

There was no blue in the sky anymore, no green on the ground. But there was no red on their hands, either. The black shadows of wings burned into the landscape began to lighten, turning grey as they rode. Silver sparkled into one, then another. One wing laced with light for every hoofbeat of the white horse that led them.

Michael hadn’t followed someone else into battle since Lucifer. It wasn’t hard to remember that this was Cas; it was hard to remember that they weren’t charging into battle. He saw Gabriel veer off as the wings began to rise, fallen swords disappearing into nothingness when she passed. He saw Anael, hair the color of the sun, climbing out of ash as white as snow.

He let Castiel ride on ahead while he turned, holding out a hand to her. Anna’s wings were glowing to life, but she took a step back. “Michael,” she said warily.

“It’s Dean,” he told her. “I like the hair.”

She actually reached up, curling a strand around in front of her face. “I’m not blonde,” she said.

“You can see it too?” he said. “I thought maybe that was a human thing.”

“The color,” she said, letting her hair fall as she stared across the bleached out landscape. “It must mean something.”

“Means you’re not dead,” he said roughly. “Right now that’s good enough for me.”

“Is Cas doing this?”

Dean nodded once, and she frowned. She studied him for a long moment. He knew exactly what she was thinking, but he didn’t say anything. It was Cas. End of story.

“We can’t fight,” Anna said at last. She looked down at her empty hand. “The garrisons are quiet.”

“I think that’s Gabriel,” Dean said. “She’s figured out how to use her powers for good.”

“Dean,” Anna said. “Is this any better than what we were before?”

He stared at her, the human form he’d known so well on earth fighting to take hold again. The garrisons were quiet; she was right. All of heaven was quiet. The choir sang softly, wordlessly, and there was no emotion anywhere. There was just white, crystalizing on everything like ice.

Anael’s hair wouldn’t turn human red no matter how hard she tried.

“You’re alive,” he repeated. “Don’t know about you, but I’ll take it.”

He turned away before she could answer.

Cas was on his other side. His horse was silent, and his eyes were glowing white. It shouldn’t have bothered Michael: he was an angel, this was heaven, physical form meant nothing.

But Anna’s hair was still pale, and Dean’s scythe glittered silver.

We must seal heaven shut, Castiel told him without speaking. Raphael won’t cause any more trouble.

“No,” Anna said. “You can’t close heaven. Dean, you know. We can’t stay here.”

Castiel’s bright white gaze slid past him to land on her. Dean is mine, he said. Please leave.

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Cas,” he began.

We must leave heaven if we are to salvage earth. Cas was looking at him again, at least. Probably. It was a little hard to tell when his eyes were doing that thing. That thing like he saw everything and none of it mattered. We can not allow anything to influence it in our absence.

His heaven was static. Frozen, unchanging, saved from itself but not worth the reward if no one here had a choice. “Not even free will?” Dean asked.

Free will is a length of rope with which to hang yourself, Castiel said. You were right. I see that now. They can not be allowed to make their own decisions when their decisions lead them to this.

“No,” Dean said sharply. He felt alarm breaking through his calm, and he welcomed fear in the face of this unchanging chill. “This isn’t free will, Cas. This is what happens when you follow crappy orders.”

Castiel didn’t blink, which wasn’t unusual but was definitely unnerving when his eyes were nothing but glowing white light. My orders will be good.

“Cas!” Dean snapped. “Look at me. Look at me, damn it.”

The Cas-shaped angel on horseback tilted its head, and Dean reached out and grabbed his bow. His fingers froze instantly, a cold burn that made his grace recoil even as he yanked the weapon out of Castiel’s hand. He threw it on the ground, grateful that it let him go without taking his fingers along with it. He dropped the scythe on top of it and reached out again when Cas wavered.

His horse obligingly sidestepped the weapons and leaned up against the shoulder of Castiel’s. Legs pinned between them, he draped a wing over Castiel’s back to steady him. Those wings under his rose immediately, almost instinctively: not trapped. Just arching into a familiar comfort.

Dean relaxed a little more when blue eyes lifted to meet his. “Cas,” he repeated, just in case. “You don’t protect people by locking ’em up.”

Castiel stared at him for a long time, but it was all right. Dean could see more than just this reflected in his eyes. When Cas finally opened his mouth, all he said was, “Perhaps I should turn them all into rabbits.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, feeling relief rush out of him in a laugh. “It’s a thought.”

“Cute,” Gabriel’s voice said. “You guys are just adorable. A little heavier on the violins, I think, about halfway through I almost forgot you were having a moment.”

Dean cursed silently as he felt Cas stiffen. Gabriel related to War just fine as far as he was concerned; her constant antagonism was as bad as a kid poking a beehive. He thought she could have a little respect for the guy whose combined powers could rewrite the story of the world without anyone noticing, but of course war wouldn’t.

“Step back,” Castiel told her. “I find your presence unnecessary.”

“I find your presence a joke,” Gabriel retorted. “What do you care about conquest? You were made to follow.”

“I was made to question,” Castiel said quietly. Like he still wasn’t sure it was true, even after all this. On the other hand, he wasn’t trying to smite a fellow rider, so that was probably a step in the right direction.

“Doesn’t make you a winner,” Gabriel said.

“If you want to fight,” Castiel said. Calmly, like it was a statement of fact, and Dean remembered him offering to get angry and swear if it would make a difference: “I’ll win.”

Dean believed him.

Gabriel obviously did too, because she held up her hands. “Figure of speech,” she said easily. Like it didn’t matter.

“I don’t like it,” Castiel told her. “Don’t do it again.”

Gabriel gave Dean a surprised expression, and he tipped his head in the smallest shrug he could manage. The last thing any of them needed to do right now was piss each other off. “We’ve got someplace to be,” Dean reminded them.

“Yes,” Castiel said, turning back to him. “We do.”

He would have turned heaven over to Anna before they left, but he didn’t get the chance. They were there and then they were gone, on earth in the time it took a hoof to fall. Cas had brought them to the garrison Sam shared with Gabriel.

“Okay, stop,” Gabriel said. They stood outside, the only living things for miles around. Lucifer’s power had demolished everything except the building he was in. The walls were nothing but an extension of his presence, dark and twisted and hungry. “We are not going in there.”

It was the center of the storm, the anchor that kept grace and demonic intent from wiping out everything on the continent. The thing that balanced them. Scales that swung, tipping wildly but refusing to fall.

So far.

“Sam’s in there,” Dean said.

“Famine’s in there,” Cas corrected, staring through the walls with eyes that were too light for his face. “This storm is supernatural; it’s barely removed from the physical world. I don’t know how long Lucifer will retain the strength to hold back hell.”

“Or how long he’ll want to,” Gabriel muttered.

“So we get heaven to help,” Dean said. “That’s what threw it out of whack in the first place, right? Let ’em pull their weight.”

“Samael is occupied with Zachariah,” Castiel said. “A divided heaven can’t hold the line against hell.”

“Zachariah’s going down,” Dean said. “Sam’s helping.” He stepped through the nearest wall before anyone could stop him. All that was inside was –

Quiet. Sam stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed. Not moving.

“Dude,” Dean said. “What are you doing.” He didn’t bother making it a question.

“Trying not to die,” Sam said.

When he opened his eyes, Dean saw Lucifer looking back at him.

Then Gabriel stepped through the wall across from them. Castiel appeared beside Dean, and he distantly noted the lack of Famine-induced effects. They probably should have known that somehow. A rider’s ring didn’t work on other riders. Why hadn’t they known that?

“Found them,” Gabriel said carelessly.

“Yes,” Lucifer agreed. “I see that.”

“You can’t have Sam,” Dean told him. “Terms of the cease-fire. You know that.”

“Look around you,” Lucifer said. “This world is on the brink of destruction. I have the power to stop it. If you want me to use it, I need Sam.”

“You can’t have him,” Dean repeated. It didn’t matter what was in the balance; Sam was his and no one was going to take that away. He’d let the world burn before. He’d do it again.

“We can save the world,” Castiel said. Totally serious. “You must let Sam Winchester go.”

Lucifer smiled, and it shouldn’t have made a difference that he was doing it with Sam’s face but it did. What could have been sinister now looked sinister and inevitable. “So formal, Castiel. Do you think I don’t know him? Do you think I don’t know you?”

“Hey,” Dean snapped, because threatening Cas wasn’t any more acceptable than taking Sam.

“Yes,” Castiel said, ignoring him. “I think you don’t know us at all.”

When Dean looked at him, Castiel’s eyes were bright white and there was a glow above him that could have been a halo. Or a crown. “You will release Sam,” he said. “You won’t do it because we ask, or because Michael’s forces stand ready to invade hell. You’ll do it because Sam is and always has been stronger than you know.”

“Sam.” Lucifer emphasized every word. “Said. Yes.”

“And if you don’t let him go,” Castiel continued, implacable, “Famine will consume you.”

“I bound Famine once,” Lucifer said. “I can do it again.”

“Let me talk to Sam,” Dean said.

On the other side of the room, Gabriel closed her mouth. Dean didn’t want to think about what she might be planning. It wasn’t impossible to kill an angel without killing their vessel and if anyone knew how to do it, Gabriel did. Her shiny new pacifist kick wouldn’t survive a threat to anything she considered hers.

“Michael,” Lucifer said, wearing an obnoxious half-smile on Sam’s face. “You know it doesn’t work like that.”

“Lucifer,” Dean mimicked. Threatening his brother might not do a damn bit of good, but facts had always been able to win him over. “Wanted anything lately?”

Lucifer looked too serene as he replied, “I want many things.”

“How much?” Gabriel asked. She stared at Lucifer even when he wouldn’t turn to face her. “You wanted Sam, didn’t you? You still want him.”

Dean saw an all-too familiar impatience flash across that face. Lucifer had shifted his gaze to the side, acknowledging that the words came from behind him without risking eye contact. Looking would mean it mattered. Looking was something Sam would do.

“You crave him,” Gabriel said. “You probably couldn’t let him go if you wanted to, and guess what.” She took a step closer, barely beyond reach of his wings. “It’s only gonna get worse.”

“I’m sure you speak from experience,” Lucifer said. “Tell me, Michael. Will the host turn a blind eye to her indiscretions indefinitely?”

“Bet you feel more in control when you think it’s normal,” Gabriel taunted. “When you can tell yourself, sure, I need him like breathing, but that’s just who he is. He’s just useful like that. Everyone wants Sam Winchester.”

“He’s the only physical form I can take on earth that will let me channel the power you need,” Lucifer told the wall. He was staring between them now. “Do you want my help or not?”

“I want Sam,” Gabriel said. “Like you do. The difference is that I can walk away.”

“That is what you’re best at,” Lucifer agreed.

Dean caught Gabriel’s eye and almost missed the flicker of expression on Lucifer’s face. They weren’t Sam’s expressions, but somehow he could read it: That’s what you don’t like? Gabriel couldn’t have seen it, but her gaze snapped to the back of Sam’s head anyway.

“Sam will speak with you now,” Lucifer said, sounding disgruntled.

He let out a breath, and suddenly Sam was standing in front of them. “Hey,” he said, before any of them could react. “Dean, I’m sorry.”

Dean opened his mouth but Sam barreled on. “Gabriel, Lucifer’s wrong, don’t listen to him. But guys, big picture: someone needs to back Samael up.”

“Big picture?” Dean repeated incredulously. “Did you just try to ‘big picture’ us? You said yes to Lucifer, Sam! That’s the big picture!”

“I had to,” Sam said. “You were gone, Dean. Cas was gone. Anna and Samael were getting hammered; what was I gonna do? Stand by and watch?”

“Yes!” Dean shouted. “Yes, okay? You’re not a fucking archangel!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Sam buried both hands in his hair, staring at Dean like he’d just come back from the dead. “There’s only so much I can do, and I hate it! I’m not gonna stand here and watch you all put your lives on the line!”

“Since when is saying yes to Lucifer a battle strategy!” Dean shot back. “I don’t care if he’s your carpool or your baby daddy or your goddamn domestic partnership; he’s not the guy you want inside your head!”

Sam shook his head, letting his hands fall. “What’s another deal with the devil if it gets you back?” he asked. “I mean it, Dean. I’m not letting this war destroy you.”

He shouldn’t say this where anyone could hear. The last audience he wanted was the one he had, but they all knew already. The whole world knew except for Sam. “Losing you would destroy me,” he said roughly. “You want to get all cuddly with an archangel? I’d say that’s your business. But Lucifer fell; he isn’t – ”

“So did you,” Sam interrupted.

“He’s the king of hell!” Dean snapped. “He’s not our friend, he’s not a rider, and he’s not trustworthy!”

“But I am!” Sam was glaring at him like he wasn’t listening. “I’m all of those things, Dean! This is my choice! It’s my call, and frankly I’d appreciate a little support from you!”

“I’m not gonna support you signing yourself over to the devil!” Dean shouted.

“Look at me!” Sam threw his arms out to the sides. “Does it look like I signed anything away? Lucifer gets me when you need him! Not whenever he wants!”

“You think you can do a timeshare with the devil?” Dean demanded. “Not fucking likely!”

Sam sighed, letting his arms fall. “It keeps him away from other vessels,” he said. The fight had gone out of him and he was just resigned, now. Dean hated his stupid resigned expression because it always meant that, whatever they were fighting about, Dean had lost.

“That’s not a priority for me,” Dean said harshly. If he was gonna lose, he was gonna make damn sure Sam knew what it meant.

“Well, it is for me,” Sam said. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Dean. I’ve already decided, and there’s really nothing you can do about it. I’d like a little help, here, but if you can’t give it that doesn’t change anything.”

“Help with what?” Dean snapped. “Care and feeding of the devil?”

“Vessel control,” Sam said. “Right now, Lucifer can take over whenever he wants, but I can’t. He has to let me. It’d be nice to even the playing field a little.”

Against his will, Dean found himself looking at Cas. He wasn’t considering it, because Lucifer staying in Sam’s body wasn’t an option. But he still grimaced when Cas shook his head.

“I did not have that…” Cas darted a glance at Sam. “Relationship, with my vessel. With Jimmy,” he added, like someone had prompted him. “We did not… co-exist well.”

“I can do it,” Gabriel said unexpectedly.

“You don’t even have a vessel,” Sam said.

Gabriel rolled her eyes. “Yeah, not now,” she said. “For God’s sake, how boring do you think my existence has been?”

“Must you swear?” Castiel said, frowning.

“Oh please,” Gabriel said. “I lost count of how many times Dean damned things today, and you can’t overlook one little name drop?”

“Guys.” Sam’s voice was sharp, but Gabriel wasn’t done.

“You wish,” she countered. Her tone was every bit as forceful as his, and Sam looked a little taken aback.

“What?” he asked.

She raised her hand and pointed down at herself. “Hello! Not a guy! You’re welcome, by the way. I think I should get a little respect here.”

“Um, okay,” Sam said, frowning at her. “People. Everyone? Whatever. Samael needs help, and you can bitch – uh, complain about Lucifer, all you want, but…”

Dean tried not to be jealous of Gabriel’s ability to throw Sam off his game. “You’re coming with us,” he said.

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’m a little busy here, Dean.”

“I’m not leaving without you,” Dean told him.

“Fine, whatever, we get it,” Gabriel complained. “We’ll go.” She lifted her hand to snap just as Castiel lifted his hand to stop her.

“We will not,” he said. “Dean invariably does foolish things when Sam’s well-being is threatened, and I don’t think you’re any better. We go together, or Samael will fight alone.”

“I can’t take Lucifer’s power on a joyride across the country!” Sam exclaimed. “Have you see what it looks like outside?”

“We’re not inviting Lucifer,” Dean said gruffly. “I think the riders of the friggin’ apocalypse can turn back hell.”

Gabriel snorted. “I think you need to brush up on your lore, there, Deano.”

There was a white horse at Castiel’s back, and Dean felt something nudge his shoulder. A red horse sidestepped Gabriel impatiently. Sam’s appeared when theirs did, and wasn’t that convenient. Dean had no idea whose doing that was and he wasn’t about to ask.

“We’re done here,” he said. “Come on, let’s go. Riders up.”

It was the first time they had all charged off together. It was a blur of heat and chaos and the feeling of something hanging on harder than they could beat it back. So they rode with it, and Michael would have known it as Lucifer if he’d been able to see anything beyond the four of them. The black horse carried Famine first. Anything after that was incidental.

Gabriel was right, of course. Hell didn’t so much tremble before them as it did surge at their heels. But Zachariah fell under their hooves like the foot soldier he should have been – and that was wrong, Dean knew it was wrong, but Death didn’t care – and Anna’s garrison rallied behind Samael.

Leaving heaven undefended. This, Death noticed. Dean tried not to think about why, but Cas turned the moment he fell behind. “Dean,” he said, and his eyes were white and there was no ignoring the crown now, but it wasn’t Death he was talking to. “What?”

“Heaven,” Dean said. Lucifer stood beside Samael, and for once he and Anael managed to work together. Dean didn’t know if that was Sam’s influence or Samael’s. Either way, it would be enough to contain hell – as long as Raphael didn’t undo all their work from the other side.

“Take Zachariah’s soldiers,” Castiel said. “I’ll take Raphael’s.”

It wasn’t a terrible plan, and Dean didn’t even question his own obedience until Castiel added, “Together, we will rule heaven as it was meant to be ruled.”

Dean frowned. It was getting harder to separate himself from Death, let alone from Michael. The fact that he mostly thought ruling heaven with Cas was a great idea seemed… obvious. Why wouldn’t it be? He and Cas could do anything.

“Not your best idea,” War reminded them. “Orders got us into this, Dean-o. More orders aren’t going to get us out.”

“I’m not interested in your opinion.” Cas stared her down, the power of conquest so bright it ached. It would win. It always won.

“Too bad for you.” War didn’t seem impressed. “Tell him who you want to marry, Dean. ’Cause I’m betting it’s not God.”

The clang of a gate slamming shut echoed through the ground, low and sonorous and enough to shake the earth when a door to hell was closed. Dean frowned, finding Sam with the angels and too many swords on the ground. Anna had fallen back. Even Samael hesitated, a step behind Sam, and the way he lifted his head made it clear that Lucifer was in charge.

“Cas,” Dean whispered. He wanted someone to answer, he wanted – he just wanted someone to tell him. For once in his life, he wanted someone to tell him which choice was right. “What do we do.”

“Oh, that’s just perfect,” War snapped. “You’re a paragon of helpfulness, really. Sam!”

She had her back to the chaos of the battlefield: the only one who wasn’t watching. Dean saw Lucifer ignore the call, wings stretching skyward in a parody of angelic revelation. It shouldn’t have meant anything. It shouldn’t signal a victory none of them could claim, and it certainly didn’t say anything about his loyalties.

But one by one, the soldiers around him were going to their knees.

Gabriel turned. “Sam,” she repeated, apparently untroubled by a field of rebel angels pledging their support to the leader of hell. “Unless you want Conquest to set you and your brother against each other for all eternity, I’m gonna need some help.”

Lucifer didn’t look at her. “Sam is mine,” he said.

“That hurts me,” Gabriel shot back. “That hurts me a lot. Come on, Sam, I thought you didn’t want me hurt. Come out and help me before I fall on my sword for you.”

“She isn’t –” Lucifer began, and then Sam’s whole face changed. The impatience fell away and relief took its place, surprise and concern and everything that made Sam human. Even when Lucifer wanted to pretend he wasn’t.

“Thanks,” Sam muttered, and the single word sounded heartfelt. “Seriously, that’s not cool. Can you maybe teach me to do that faster? And on command?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you want,” Gabriel said. “In the meantime, you have angels and Cas has Dean and I have three emergency plans that I really don’t want to use. You think you can get Dean to make his boyfriend stand down?”

Sam’s gaze fell on him, and Dean felt like he was staring through ice. Like everything was going on around him and he wasn’t even part of it anymore. He was a world apart, under the water. Staring through the cold and the white at pictures on a screen.

Sam looked away, to his side – to where Cas would be. That was when Dean realized he couldn’t move. He couldn’t see Cas. He couldn’t see anyone who wasn’t right in front of him, and he couldn’t turn around to look. All he could do was stare while Sam’s wary expression came back to him.

“Dean?” he said. “What’s going on?”

“He’s feeding Cas power,” Gabriel said. “Little Castiel didn’t have enough to save heaven, so Death gave it to him. Now Dean can’t stop, and Cas is out of control.”

Silence, a familiar voice interrupted. If Dean could feel anything, he thought he would feel something bad. Horror, or despair, or just the deep resignation that came with knowing nothing he did would matter in the end. Those angels belong to Michael.

It was the voice of Conquest. He should have destroyed that bow when he had the chance. But he hadn’t, and he couldn’t feel any regret about it now. He couldn’t feel anything at all.

Except cold. He could feel cold. He didn’t think that counted.

“Michael belongs to you,” Gabriel said. Dean thought she was saying it for Sam’s benefit, but what did Sam care? “Michael’s power is your power. And I really don’t think you need any more.”

“Okay, Death I get,” Sam said. “We can definitely share power. The horsemen – the riders, I mean. But why Michael? Isn’t Michael stronger than Cas?”

Silence! the voice commanded again, and Dean flinched. The power in that voice was overwhelming, and it was only a fraction of what Castiel could do. Most of his attention was elsewhere.

“No!” Sam snapped. “Wait your turn!”

“Sam,” Gabriel said. Her tone was a warning. “Sounding a bit like Lucifer there.”

“Do you want me to fix this or not?” Sam demanded. “Michael swore himself to Castiel, didn’t he. That’s just great. You know what it takes to balance that? A garrison. A full garrison, which Michael hasn’t had since he fell, and now he’s signed up for Castiel’s. Which would be fine if Castiel wasn’t at war!”

“What are you looking at me for?” Gabriel wanted to know. “I didn’t do this.”

“You set a terrible example!” Sam shouted. He was striding toward Gabriel like he meant to grab her, to shake her, to get in her face and make something happen. “Believe it or not, the world does care what you do!”

Dean wanted to tell him to stop. He actually wanted it, even though he felt mostly apathetic, he did think that Sam hurting Gabriel wouldn’t accomplish anything. Castiel should interfere. Why wasn’t Cas paying attention?

Why did Cas only care about him?

“Well, maybe I don’t care about the world,” Gabriel said. She fell back a step, took another one when Sam just kept coming, and her wings blocked most of Dean’s view. “Maybe I just want my stupid friends to stop sacrificing themselves for each other.”

“Yeah,” Sam’s voice said. “You’re one to talk.”

And then Sam was there on one side of him and Gabriel was on the other, wings and balance and warmth seeping into Dean while Conquest roared to life. Dean could feel Castiel’s grip on heaven falling away. The icy stillness of the battlefield in front of them started to ease. Cas was dropping everything to get him back, and it was as frightening as it was flattering.

“You can’t love what you control!” Sam shouted. Dean could barely hear him over the uncharacteristic rage: anger brought on by fear, chaos out of helplessness, the lingering heat of hell. “It doesn’t work like that, Cas!”

They were protecting him, Dean realized. They had used their own argument to cover the effort to get between him and Cas. It wasn’t them he should have worried about, after all. It was Cas. It had always been Cas.

“Why do you think Dad left?” Gabriel demanded. Her wings were still stronger than Castiel’s, even after all this time. “He had to let us go, Cas. You can’t take over for him. You can’t be him. You’ll never be him!”

“Dean can!” Castiel was talking again, shouting like an honest-to-god human being, and Dean stumbled into Sam when he tried to turn. Sam propped him up but it didn’t matter; he was moving. “Dean can lead us. He can lead all of us!”

“He doesn’t want to!” Sam let him go when Dean lurched away, but he kept talking. “He’s not God either, Cas. He’s just Dean. He’s just a guy who loves us, who loves you.”

“Move,” Dean gritted, pushing at Gabriel’s wings. “I got this.”

“I can’t,” Castiel gasped. Something had broken, something between them, flooding back like Dean could suddenly feel the power Cas wasn’t using. “I can’t stop this.”

“Let me go!” Dean yelled, desperate in the face of Castiel’s sudden fear. “He won’t, it’s fine, we have to –” He couldn’t finish. Gabriel let him go anyway. Dean almost fell forward when the resistance of Gabriel’s wings disappeared, and Cas reached for him instinctively.

Dean caught the edge of an outstretched wing before Cas could take it back. “You’re fine,” he said roughly, reaching for any part of Cas he could touch. “It’s fine. You did good.”

Cas fell. Dean saw it, saw his expression crumple, knew his knees would buckle. He was too far away to hold Cas up, but no way was he going to let go. He went down on top of Cas, falling awkwardly beside him, trying not land in his lap. There was clumsy and stupid, and then there was just ridiculous.

“I hurt you,” Cas whispered. His hands clenched in Dean’s shirt, and fuck, thank everything he wasn’t pulling away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“It’s okay,” Dean muttered, pulling him closer. “You gotta trust us.”

I do, Castiel told him. I will. I can.

I know. Dean held on hard, surreptitiously looking for the bow. It was nowhere to be found. The arrows, the crown, all gone. He didn’t know if it was actually Conquest messing things up, or if it was the power overload he’d used to heal heaven. Cas looked dimmer now, at least, and Dean figured some of that stupid white was draining away.

He heard Sam asking Gabriel quietly, “What about Zachariah?”

“I hear Lucifer needs some help in hell,” Gabriel replied. She didn’t bother to keep her voice down, and Dean looked up.

They had a lot of lost angels on the ground. He didn’t know why they’d followed Zachariah, but he’d told Cas: they couldn’t expect everyone to make their own decisions just like that. They had no practice, no frame of reference, no way to know what a choice looked like or what consequences were.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Sam said.

I can’t take them, Castiel said.

“I can,” Dean said aloud. He felt Cas close his eyes, didn’t have to see it to know there was relief on his face. “I’ll take Zachariah’s rebels.”

Sam and Gabriel were staring at him. “What?” he said. “What else are we gonna do?”

“They followed Zachariah,” Sam said. “You think they’ll just line up behind you? No questions asked?”

“They went for Lucifer,” Dean snapped. “They’ll follow anyone who lets them. That’s what got us into this mess in the first place.”

“So how is you perpetuating the system going to get us out?” Sam wanted to know.

“It’s not.” Dean squeezed Cas’ feathers when he felt the grip on his shirt tighten again. Seriously, screw monsters. His clothes suffered as much damage just being around Cas as they ever had hunting. “But we can’t throw everything up in the air and hope someone picks up the pieces. We have to help.”

“Now,” Gabriel agreed.

It made Sam hold up his hands, and surrender was probably as close as Dean would get to support on this. Sam didn’t want Lucifer to have them. Castiel didn’t want Raphael to have them. Gabriel, if Dean read it right, didn’t want anyone to have them, which was about as reassuring as it got. At least she understood what was happening.

He grabbed one of Castiel’s hands, put an arm under his wings, and hauled them both to their feet together. Castiel didn’t look displeased. Sam didn’t look disgusted, so hey, he’d managed to stay below Sam’s PDA threshold. Good for him. He deliberately ruined it by kissing Cas on the cheek before he pulled away.

Sam was staring at him. “Did you actually just do that?” he asked. “Dean, that’s not even gross. That’s just cute.”

“Shut up,” Dean told him.

“Any time now, boys.” Gabriel looked bored with the whole thing.

“Wait,” Sam said. “I can’t say ‘guys,’ but you can call us ‘boys’?”

“You are boys,” Gabriel pointed out.

Dean rolled his eyes, turning toward the angels. Anna was in his face before he could take a step. He drew in a sharp breath – not for her, but for Cas behind him. It was pretty obvious that Conquest didn’t like Anna much.

She didn’t say anything. She just stood there.

It took him longer than it should have to get that it was a test, and Cas didn’t fail. He kept his mouth shut, his hands to himself, and after a moment Anna stepped aside. Her hair, Dean noticed, was bright red again.

Samael was next, but she didn’t seem aware of any danger. She stepped between Dean and the others, effectively cutting him off from the rest of the riders without anything like hesitation. “Michael. They’re not angels of heaven.”

“Yeah, well.” He was looking past her, watching wings that fluttered restlessly, too many of them ragged and unkempt. Like his. “Join the club, right?”

“You can’t expect to fold them into the flock,” she insisted. “They didn’t follow Zachariah simply because it’s in their nature. They followed him because he enforced his orders.”

Dean didn’t want to know what she meant by that, but he did. As soon as she said it, he knew. Which was unusual for Samael, half-removed from the host at best, but she wanted him to have this. To understand.

“I won’t force anyone to follow,” he said. He lowered his voice for whatever good it would do. “I’m only offering them a garrison. A real one, if they want it. We can do this together.”

“Angels of earth exist because we don’t all believe that,” Samael told him.

“Angels of earth exist because of people like Zachariah,” Dean snapped. “There’s more than one way to follow. I won’t throw anyone out for doubting.”

Samael held her ground. “You cast Lucifer out.”

“Lucifer’s behind me,” Dean said.

Samael didn’t move. “Against your will.”

He felt his wings stiffen, remembered Gabriel saying you think you can get whatever you want by growling and flashing your wings, and he took a breath. A wholly unnecessary, weirdly reassuring breath. Even Cas did it now, when he was upset. When he didn’t want to be. It looked pretty on him.

“I claim as family,” Dean said carefully, “every angel in creation.”

He’d said it once, and he saw Samael recognize it. It didn’t stop her from asking, “Even Lucifer?”

He barely kept himself from saying, especially Lucifer. She probably heard it anyway, but it didn’t undermine his point. That he could tell. He just nodded, and she let him go.

He didn’t expect them all to swear. Maybe that was the human part of him – the rebellious part, Castiel would say. They could do whatever they wanted; why hand over their allegiance just like that? But Michael offered, and they accepted. Every last one of them.

Castiel didn’t tip his hand until the oath began, and it took Michael two whole words to understand what he was doing. I pledge…

Dean couldn’t stop him. He shouldn’t want to stop him; Cas had tried to do it before and it had twisted back on them. Archangels had never pledged to each other, and they were the only ones who could do it. But here was Castiel, reciting along with the rest of them.

Allegiance to the sigil of Michael, he said, and Michael reached out.

Castiel was at his side faster than walking. Michael had to smile. “Showoff,” he muttered. Cas didn’t kneel. He didn’t even have to be prevented from kneeling. The garrison bond was still there, warm and powerful and confident under the label of “loyalty,” and it was impossible to ignore.

“Yes,” Castiel said, not bothering to speak softly. “You are.”

Dean elbowed him, smile widening when Cas gave him a baffled look. Like he had no idea what that was for. “I accept your allegiance,” he told the angels. “And hey, your loyalty may be a little hit or miss, but I get that. So. You can get up now.”

You are the most loyal person I know.

The reproof came from Cas, of course. He hadn’t even bothered to keep it quiet. Everyone had heard, and no one questioned. If Cas was allowed to be irreverent now, the host really had accepted him as an archangel. Michael was caught a little off guard by that.

By the non-reaction of the host. Not by Castiel.

Back at you, he told Cas.

It would always be worth it to see Cas smile.

“Well,” Gabriel said. “Didn’t know you could do that.”

“Do what?” Sam asked.

“Samael,” Dean said. “Your garrison’s in the best shape right now; can you isolate Zachariah?”

Her garrison had been protected by Lucifer until the very end, when Anna arrived to reinforce them. “Yes,” Samael said. She didn’t ask for specifics, why or how long, but it was still clear that her answer was agreement. Not acknowledgement of an order.

“Cas just joined Michael’s garrison,” Gabriel told Sam. “Little weird, seeing how Michael’s already a part of his. Never been done. But hey, gay love. Breaking boundaries and all that.”

“Gabriel,” Dean said. “Where are the kids?”

He wasn’t looking for an actual location and Gabriel didn’t give him one. Dean could sense Maribel, but only barely, and none of the others. What he got from Maribel told him that the silence was intentional. They were off the grid, and they would stay that way until they got the okay from every one of their parents.

“Safe,” Gabriel said briefly. “They have help.”

The wild flicker of awareness Gabriel shared didn’t narrow it down much, but it did answer Dean’s next question: where was her garrison? Sam had sent them away before he invited Lucifer in, which was no less than Dean expected. They’d stayed low. Not all the fighting was front line. If humanity had avoided the effects of a resurgent hell, it was because of Sam and Gabriel’s garrison.

Cas would be proud, Dean thought.

“You guys okay?” Sam asked. “Gabriel said you got caught in the…” He waved his hand, and Dean raised an eyebrow. “Vision quest,” Sam finished awkwardly.

“Vision quest?” Dean repeated. Gabriel’s description. It had to be. He could make fun of Sam, or he could look at Cas, and until he tried he thought he could do both. But he saw the expression Cas wore before he frowned, covering his disappointment with confusion so fake that Dean wanted to apologize for it.

“Cas,” Dean said, and Cas actually looked away. If it was bad enough that his human face could betray him, Dean was gonna say no. They weren’t okay. “We’ll fix it, Cas. We’ll make it happen.”

He had to promise, even if Cas just nodded like it was the sort of thing you said. “Of course, Dean.”

“Look at me.” It was a little harsh, but he wasn’t good at this.

Cas did it anyway, and Dean told him, “We’re gonna get married. Okay?” Cas just looked at him, and he didn’t know what else to say except, “We are.”

He really wasn’t good at this.

Cas nodded again. This time he said, “I understand,” and Dean hoped that was true.

“So, yours was less fun,” Sam said carefully.

Would have been better if it was real, Dean thought, but he didn’t say it. “We’re here now,” he said. “Could’ve been worse.”

“It was a very effective trap,” Castiel said. He was still looking at Dean, and yeah. Dean got the message. “I understand why Gabriel couldn’t leave.”

“Yeah?” They were all staring at him now, but it was Sam who asked. “You wanted to stay too?”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Very much.”

“Anna,” Dean said. He didn’t take his eyes off of Castiel. “Cas is gonna need to be on earth for a while. Any chance you could help Rachel out upstairs?”

He could hear Anna suddenly next to him. “Just me?”

“Depends how your garrison is doing,” he said. “They up for another rotation in heaven?”

There was the briefest pause, and Dean felt every member of Anna’s garrison check in. Status, and maybe something more. “Yes,” Anna said. “We can do that.”

“Thanks.” He meant it and he knew she understood. Not an angelic order, but a human request for help. She was doing him a favor. “I appreciate it.”

Leaving his newly minted garrison, Gabriel’s lack of one, and Sam’s uneasy balancing act with Lucifer. Which hinged on what? Lucifer’s word? Sam’s strength of character? Michael’s wrath if he fell?

“Michael will need a base of operations,” Castiel said. “Yours needs a guardian in your absence.”

“Dean is welcome there,” Anna said. “And you, of course. Don’t redecorate while I’m gone. It’s not polite.”

“We won’t,” Dean said when Cas didn’t answer. Cas just stood there, like he didn’t see how conversation with other people had a point. “We’ll keep it warm for you.”

Her lips twitched, and he knew she wanted to smile. All she said was, “Use your own bed.”

Dean let her have the last word, because some things were more important.

“Sam,” he said. “Gabriel. You have a garrison to clean up. And we’re borrowing Jophiel.”

“From where?” Gabriel asked.

“From you,” Dean said. “We. Me and Cas. We’re borrowing her; we’ll give her back when we’re done. Don’t let Lucifer do anything funny. See you soon, bye.”

It was Castiel’s mouth that quirked at this, and Dean thought Cas was on to him now. “What are we borrowing Jophiel for?” he asked. Like he already knew.

“Temporary babysitting assignment,” Dean said. “She’s so good at it. I thought she could watch our renegades for a little while.”

“While you do what?” Cas prompted.

“We,” Dean said, “are going to talk to Ellen. I don’t know about you, but I’m putting in my vote for an outdoor wedding. I don’t want to be confused about what’s real and what’s not.”

The tiny smile on Cas’ face bloomed, becoming real and honest in the time it took to draw breath. “I’m already confused,” he said. He looked pretty damn happy about it. “But I don’t want to wake up again.”

“Wow, Cas.” Dean grinned back at him. “That was actually kind of romantic.”

Cas tipped his head. “It’s also the truth.”

Dean knew him well enough to understand that it probably hadn’t been intentional. But wasn’t the truth romantic enough? Wasn’t it, in this case, more romantic?

When had he started wanting romance, anyway?

Ellen would ask the same thing, so Dean was lucky she wasn’t up when they arrived.  The Roadhouse was dark under a sky full of stars, but it took the silence of an empty bar to make him look at his watch.  “Damn,” he muttered.  That made four nights in a row.  “We should be in bed.”

Castiel didn’t answer.  Dean wanted to explain, to remind him why it was worth convincing their friends that at least one of them kept a vaguely human schedule.  He even opened his mouth to start with “y'know, the night belongs to lovers,” before he thought better of it.

For all his power, Cas looked weirdly fragile right now.  Like he wasn’t sure what to hold on to.  Like he wasn’t sure there’d be anything there at all if he reached out.  Dean wasn’t going to push him over the edge by complaining.

“Ellen is asleep,” Castiel said abruptly.  “Should we wake her?”

Not, “should we come back,” or “should we leave a message,” or even “when will she be up?”  The fact that Cas asked meant he wanted to do it.  The fact that he asked first meant he knew he wasn’t supposed to.

“Let’s wait,” Dean said, pulling out a chair.  “We gotta figure some stuff out anyway.”

Cas looked wary and distant in a way that had nothing to do with the faint white glow still clinging to him.  He took a seat, though, so Dean was going to count that as a win.  “Heaven will expect you to lead your garrison from there,” Castiel said.  “It will balance our existing numbers, at least.  Three garrisons on earth, and three in heaven.”

“Cas,” Dean said.  “The thing with Conquest.”

He looked away immediately.  “I’m sorry,” he told the floor.

“Yeah,” Dean said.  “Me too.  I’m sorry we got split up, and I’m sorry we weren’t there for you.  You think that’s all it was?”

Cas didn’t answer.  Dean could tell he was confused, which was at least a step up from afraid, and maybe embarrassed, which was better than lonely.  He didn’t look as bright as he should, even with the extra power.  Dean thought he should be able to tell why, but he couldn’t.

Dean leaned forward, rapping his knuckles on the table in front of Cas.  “Hey,” he said, as gently as he could.  He wasn’t good at gentle.  “Talk to me.”

“I forced you to submit.”  Castiel didn’t look up.  “You told me to trust you, but I don’t know how you can trust me.  Not after something like that.”

Dean had to smile.  It must have been more obvious than he thought, because he got a sideways look for it.  So Cas was only pretending not to watch him.  Nothing new there.

“Cas,” he said.  “You let me off for way worse than that.  You said you’re sorry; that’s good enough for me.”

Cas gave up the pretense, folding his hands on the table as he stared back at Dean.  “Since when?”

“Since always,” Dean said.  Even if that wasn’t totally true.  “Since I get how hard you try, okay?  This isn’t easy; we’re not gonna get it right the first time.  We go the mat, we get back up, and we try again.  That’s what we do.”

“What if we can’t get back up.”  It had to be a question, but Cas sounded so flat that Dean reached out and put a hand over his.

“You tell me,” he said fiercely.  “You can’t get up, you tell me.  And I help you.”

“You misunderstand me.”  Cas hadn’t looked away.  “You told Sam that losing him would destroy you.  Sometimes I’m not sure you realize you’re not the only one with such a weakness.”

Dean stared at him.  

“What if you go down,” Cas said.  “And you don’t get back up?”

The worst part was, the first three things that sprang to mind were all jokes.  Dean was a terrible person.  Especially because he could feel Cas’ right hand under his, and the ring there was warm against his palm.  Dean looked down, lifting his fingers briefly to study it.

Cas had done that on purpose.  He hadn’t leaned forward to mirror Dean; he’d done it to make his hands more obvious.  The green ring they’d stolen from Pestilence had warped, the shape changed and the color drained away.  It was a white stone now, in all its biblical glory.

Dean curled his fingers around Cas’ right hand and pushed it aside.  Just enough to free his other hand, which Dean lifted and placed on top.  Cas’ engagement ring shone in the darkness.  The single strand of fate was brighter than gold had been in their wedding vision, and for a moment it covered up the white.

“When I went to hell,” Dean said.  He felt Cas’ hands tighten under his, knew how important that time had been to Cas and how hard it was for him when Dean wouldn’t talk about it.  “Before I went to hell,” he said, “me and Sam pretended like it wasn’t gonna happen.”

Daddy, Maribel’s voice said.

He closed his eyes.  Hey, kiddo, he thought.

That must have been enough, because he got a flicker of fine and later and he figured they had about two minutes.  Cas had heard it too.  He was already pulling away.

“Wait,” Dean said, opening his eyes.  “Pretending didn’t work out well for either of us, so look.  Maybe I’m gonna die.  Maybe you will.  Maybe none of us will, who the fuck knows.  But whoever gets left behind does what they have to do, okay?”

Cas was staring at him, anguish right there in his gaze, and yeah, Dean felt bad for doing this to him.  But the only thing worse than talking about it was ignoring it, because ignoring things meant you were alone with them.  At least talking meant there was someone there to listen.

“You do what you gotta do,” Dean told him.  “But I want to see you again, okay?  So don’t do anything so bad I have to come and break you out.”

“Of hell,” Castiel said.

“Of wherever,” Dean said.

The look he got for this was conflicted.  Cas was upset and bewildered and the light around him was still too dull.  But he was very clear when he said, “The promise of your rescue is not much of a deterrent.”

That made Dean grin, and he knew it was at least half relief.  “Hang in there, Cas.  We’re gonna be okay.”

Cas’ expression softened.  He didn’t look happy, but there was something like wonder in his voice when he said, “I’ve never heard you say that before.”

“Yeah, well.”  He didn’t have to ask, because Cas was right.  He tried not to lie about stuff like that, as a general rule.  “Guess I’ve never had the proof sitting right in front of me.”

Cas frowned, and of course he didn’t get it.  “How am I proof that anything is okay?”

“I’m okay,” Dean told him.  “When I’m with you.”

Cas was thinking about it too much.  Dean could see him looking back, probably categorizing every moment they’d been together and weighing the good against the bad.  Dean figured it was fifty-fifty, given what they’d been through, but that wasn’t the point.

“Cas,” he said.  “Cas, it’s not a numbers game.”

“Then what is it?”  Those blue eyes could hold all of heaven and they were still impatient.  “You’re very reassuring for someone who doesn’t know any more than I do.  I don’t understand how you can be so calm!”

“Cas, I’m freaking out all the time,” Dean told him.  “You get used to it after a while.  There’s stuff we can’t do anything about, and there’s nothing we can do about that.  Okay?”

“It’s not okay,” Castiel said.  “Heaven is closed, hell is open, and earth is overrun with fallen angels.”

“And we’re okay,” Dean insisted.  “Right now, you and me are sitting here together.  And we’re all right.  We can’t do anything about the rest of it until I know you believe that.”

Cas slumped in his chair like he was suddenly human, like he hated everything and it wasn’t even worth fighting anymore.  Dean would have been more alarmed if he’d never seen Cas sulk before.  “I want to marry you,” Cas muttered.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean agreed, trying not to smile.  He couldn’t not do it.  Just the thought of marrying Cas was still wild and a little unbelievable in his mind.  It made him smile every time.  “Good.  Me too.”

“Immediately,” Cas said.  “I’m tired of waiting.”

“You’re thousands of years old,” Dean said, because he couldn’t stop smiling and maybe distracting Cas would keep him from feeling like a fool.  “It’s only been four weeks.”

Castiel glared at him, and Dean knew he shouldn’t laugh but he did.  “Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed quickly, in an effort to make up for it.  “That’s a really long time.  It, uh… it takes a while to plan a wedding, you know.”

“So why are we not planning it?” Cas wanted to know.  “Would that not advance our objective?”

Daddy, Maribel said again.

Yeah, come on, Dean thought.  Out loud he said, “We’re planning it right now.  The kids are gonna be in it, right?  ’Cause they’re on their way.”

“You promised –”  Castiel barely paused as Wildfire climbed into his lap.  “All the children that they could be in the wedding.”

“Here, Daddy.”  Maribel handed a bundle of blankets to Dean and walked around the table with Adamel.  By the time they’d circled the entire thing there was a couch waiting for them and a fire in the fireplace.

Ellen didn’t have a fireplace, and Dean almost said something.  But they’d been hiding all day, probably fighting when they weren’t, obviously on their own since Lucifer and Sam made their stupid deal.  They were all still alive and apparently unhurt.  That got them a long way.

“Hi Father,” Wildfire said quietly.  “Jesse’s with Mama.  Is that okay?”

“What about Maia?” Maribel asked.  “Will she be in the wedding too?”

“Sam says couches are more comfortable than chairs,” Adamel said.

Dean caught Cas’ eye, and they both smiled at the same time.  Well, Cas didn’t exactly smile, but his eyes lightened and he might as well have.  “That’s okay,” he agreed, not taking his eyes off of Dean.

“Sure,” Dean added.  “Maia can be in the wedding.”

“Perhaps we should move to the couch,” Castiel said.  “Since one has been provided.”

“Can we share the couch?” Dean asked, looking over at Maribel and Adamel.  The huge couch they’d made dwarfed both of them.  It would probably have a great view of the fire if they moved the table.

“Of course,” Maribel said.

“We made it for you,” Adamel said.

“Are you ready?” Castiel asked Wildfire, and Dean had to smile.  Some lessons stuck better than others.  When Wildfire nodded, though, Castiel scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the couch.  His wings swirled over his shoulders, but he walked the whole way.

“What about you?” Dean asked the little ball of grace in his arms.  “You want to go sit with the family?”

He tried not to look as surprised as he felt when he got a distinctly happy feeling in return.  “Are you talking to me?” he asked the blanket.  Angel or not, it was disconcerting not to see a face, so he tweaked one of the corners to let some of the glow out.

The blanket shifted even after he let go, and he stared at it in surprise.  He saw Maribel sitting up on the couch out of the corner of his eye.  “Did she move?” Maribel asked.  “She never moves when I hold her.”

“I can’t tell,” Dean admitted.  He figured, what the hell, and he pulled the top of the blanket all the way back.

Two tiny wing lines defined the center of the glow.

“Dude,” he said.  That was all it took: the rest of the children were all around him, peering over his arms, and he felt the rush of grace at his back when Cas landed behind him.  “She’s an angel baby,” Dean said, staring at the light.

“Yes,” Castiel agreed.  “She is taking on the form of those around her.”

Creepy, Dean thought, but he managed not to say it aloud.  He felt Cas’ hand cup the back of his neck, and he smiled.  Sorry, he thought, as privately as he could.  It is, though.  I stand by that thought.

“Like a human child,” Maribel said.

Dean blinked.  “Sorry?”

“Human babies grow into small humans,” Maribel said.  “Just like Maia’s growing into a small angel.”

Instead of being created in that form, Castiel thought.  To nudge Dean in the right direction, maybe, or just because he didn’t want to give voice to the reality of it by saying it aloud.  He had created something alive.  Something that grew.  Angels couldn’t do that.

That’s not entirely true, Castiel reminded him.  Gabriel has a dog.

Dean turned around.  Well, he craned his neck as best he could, trying to stare at Cas from a seated position without throwing off any of the kids.  “That’s why you look different,” he blurted out.  “Your sparkly God-light is gone.”

Castiel just stared back at him.

“You feel different,” Maribel said.  Uncertainly, like she wasn’t sure she was supposed to.

“You feel tired,” Wildfire said quietly.

“Me, or him?” Dean asked, but when he looked at them it was pretty clear who they were talking about.

“Father,” Maribel said.  “He’s not as warm.”

Dean didn’t like the sound of that.  “All right, everybody onto the couch,” he said.  That was their solution last time, right?  Last time, he’d – 

No, Dean realized.  Last time they’d been on the couch, and Gabriel had made him take Cas somewhere else.

To heaven.

“Dean.”  He felt Cas’ hand slide down to his shoulder, squeezing hard.  “I’m all right.  I’m only drained from the fighting.  From the – from heaven.”

Dean wrapped Maia back up and stood, careful with the kids hovering so close.  “You want communion?” he asked bluntly.  Cas rarely initiated it, and Dean wouldn’t force it on him.  But Gabriel’s entire garrison had needed it after the opening skirmish, and Cas must have burned out everything he had to put heaven back together.

Cas didn’t answer.  It was probably the “want” that made it hard, and times like these, Dean should be able to remember that.  “Would communion help,” he said, nudging Cas in the direction of the couch.  Wildfire had taken his hand, pulling him with her when Cas hesitated.

“We could do it with just us,” Maribel offered.  “If you don’t want to see heaven.”

Dean tried not to think about what that meant.  He didn’t know how the kids even recognized what they did as communion.  He wondered if Cas had made them able to do that on purpose.

“Sit,” Castiel said quietly.  Dean felt a tug on his wing, urging him forward.  “I don’t know either,” Cas added.  “If that helps.”

Dean took the place next to Cas, Maribel scooting her feet back to give him room before moving in to lean on his shoulder again.  Adamel was on the other side of Cas, and Wildfire was still in his lap.  “Not a lot,” Dean said, shifting Maia against his other arm to give them more room.

“What don’t you know?” Maribel asked.  “If communion would help?  It would make you warmer.  That would help.  But so will we, so it’s a good thing we’re all together.”

Dean swept a wing around her without thinking, wrapping her in the same grace they were trying to feed Cas.  Maribel melted into it, happy and reassured.  It was human, maybe, that she babbled when she was nervous, but she didn’t say anything when Cas answered more honestly than Dean would have.

“Dean was wondering about your ability to, as Gabriel would say, selectively commune,” Cas told her.  “He is curious about its origins.”

“Yes,” Maribel agreed, curling further into Dean.  “Me too.”

Dean could feel Adamel and Wildfire nestling little wings into Cas, grace warm and sweet where it combined with theirs.  He and Cas shared grace without thinking, now, and when he tried to remember when that had become so natural he found he couldn’t.  Not because the memory was missing.  Just because it was something that had lasted a little longer each time, until he couldn’t tell when deciding to do it had become deciding not to do it.

Like blinking when you fall asleep.  The understanding came from one of the children, bringing with it the moment when you stopped letting your eyes close and started trying to keep them open.  It made Dean smile, and Wildfire smiled back.

Only if you’re trying to fall asleep, Dean thought.  He wasn’t directing it at anyone in particular, but Wildfire nodded so he figured they’d all heard.  He expected heaven in the back of his head, but it still sometimes surprised him that his kids could hear everything he thought.

“Someone please move that table,” Castiel said aloud, rescuing Dean from the embarrassing track his thoughts were inevitably headed down.  Geez, it was like Cas knew him or something.

“Why?” Dean asked, shifting his wing against Cas’ until the leading edges lined up.  Grace hummed between them, and Dean smiled.  It might not be communion, but it felt damn good and it was nice to know Cas felt it too.

“Because I want to look at the fire.”  Cas knew what he was asking.  He was deliberately ignoring it, and Dean hoped he was only teasing instead of trying to avoid the question.  “The table is in my way.”

“And you can’t move it because?” Dean prompted.

“I can move it,” Castiel said.  “But I’m tired, and I’d rather not.”

“I’ll do it,” Adamel offered.  He waited, though, and the table didn’t disappear until Dean nodded.

“Thank you,” Castiel said.

Dean was going over everything Cas had done since they’d torn heaven away from Conquest.  He didn’t like the conclusion he was coming to.  “Cas,” he said slowly.  “Can you fly right now?”

“Yes.”  The answer came without hesitation, but then Cas added, “I’d prefer not to,” and Dean knew.

“You don’t have anything left,” he said.  He wanted to pull away and stare at him, to make sure his eyes were still blue and his wings were still on fire.  But Dean would have noticed if they weren’t, and it was probably all the support that was making Cas feel as good as he did.  He wasn’t about to take that away.

“Of course I do.”  Cas seemed perfectly calm now.  “I have you.”

Like Jophiel when she ran herself all the way down, evening out only when Sach appeared to prop her up.  Cas still thought of himself as fallen.  He acted like he was cut off from the rejuvenating force of heaven.  He just had more power to lose, so it took longer for him to fall apart.

Cas had to understand.  He had to know exactly what Dean was thinking.  Dean said it anyway, because he didn’t want the kids to misunderstand.  “You have all of us.  You have heaven, Cas.”  If he didn’t believe that, Dean didn’t know how they were going to convince the rest of them.

“You’re setting kind of a bad example,” he added, because Jophiel wasn’t the only one who’d learned her independence from Cas.

“I’m only doing what I know,” Cas said.

“Cas,” Dean said.  He tried to be careful, because he knew that tone, but his “careful” didn’t always come out the way he wanted it to.  “You need communion.”

“No,” Cas replied.

“You’re running out of angel,” Dean told him.  “I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s people out there who want your head.  This isn’t a great time to be flashing the ‘low battery’ warning.”

So he sucked at careful.  Sue him; this was important.

“I took over heaven,” Castiel said.  “Opening myself to its judgment now would be more dangerous than any depletion.”

Dean rolled his eyes.  “I think you overestimate their judgment.  I take over heaven all the time and they love me.”

“If they do not judge me,” Castiel said quietly, “there is a very real possibility that I will judge them.”  He extended his right fingers without lifting his hand.  “I still wear this ring.  I don’t need any more power.”

Conquest might try to take heaven back.  He had drawn down Michael’s power until he couldn’t move, taken Cas’ power until he couldn’t fly, and Dean hadn’t forgotten how normal he’d made it all sound.  How good, how right it had seemed to rule everything they could see.

If Conquest was tempted by the power of communion, with the force of a million angels behind it, there was no telling how far they could go.

“It’s scary,” Dean said at last.  “I get that.  I don’t like being out of control any more than you do –”

“Dean, I said no!”  Cas was stiff against him, his wings cold and dull.  “Let me be.  Please.”

Dean curled Maia into one arm and slid the other free, nudging Cas’ shoulder to make him lean forward.  “C’mere,” he said.  Cas shifted until Dean had enough room to put his arm around him.  Dean didn’t say anything else, but Cas did eventually relax and Wildfire resettled herself against his chest.

The cold of his wings warmed sluggishly.  Cas was forcing it, and Dean wanted to tell him to stop.  Faking the temperature difference to mimic an infusion of grace didn’t do anyone any good.  But Cas stubbornly kept it up, and Dean kept his mouth shut, and when Cas dropped his head onto Dean’s shoulder there was a tiny rush of relief.

You’re right, Cas thought, and all of them could hear it.  I’m no good to you like this.

“Yes, you are,” Dean said.  Neither of them moved.  “You’re great, Cas.  Powered up or not.”

All of the children agreed, even Maia, which made Dean wonder how much she could understand.  Maybe she was just imitating everyone around her again.  Or hey, maybe she just loved Cas; that would make sense.  Who didn’t?

“Perhaps with the children,” Castiel said quietly.

“You want to commune with the kids?”  Sounding supportive wasn’t Dean’s strong suit, but at least he tried not to sound disappointed.  It was better than nothing, right?  Just because he couldn’t share it didn’t mean it wasn’t good for Cas.

“You can come too,” Adamel said, from somewhere on the other side of Cas.  “You’ll make it stronger.”

“I can’t –”  Dean shook his head, Cas’ hair brushing against his cheek.  “I can’t do the thing you do,” he said.  “It’s all or nothing for me.”

“Not for us,” Maribel said.  “We can take you both.”

Going somewhere.  It was travel to them, not awareness.  It was – the garden?

“Yes,” Castiel said.  “That is acceptable.”

Instead of opening up, stretching out, there was the strangest sense of everything falling in.  The darkness of the room, the flickering of the fire, the warmth of wings and hands and the pressure of another heartbeat against his chest.  They all wound inward, closer and closer until he opened his eyes and it was exactly the same.

Cas was pressed against his shoulder on the bench in front of their playground, Maia and Wildfire snuggled in between them.  Maribel was already moving, sliding off the bench and darting across the sand.  She glowed, here, bright in a way she wasn’t on earth.  Her wings were open as she ran.

“No,” Castiel murmured, lifting his head to watch.  “Jophiel isn’t the only one.”

“Did you know they could do that?” Dean asked.  He didn’t know why he kept his voice quiet: any of them could hear him.

“No,” Castiel repeated.  Wildfire scrambled off of his lap when he shifted, looking after Maribel and then back at him.  When Castiel nodded, she followed at a slower pace.  “But it was a reasonable assumption.”

Dean eyed him skeptically.  “It was?”

“Our communion led us here,” Castiel said.  “If they can share theirs amongst themselves, I would expect them to be able to arrive here independent of the host.”

“And bring us along for the ride?” Dean wanted to know.

Castiel was quiet for a moment before he admitted, “That surprises me.”

There wasn’t anywhere to go from there, so Dean just sat there and listened to Castiel relax by increments.  Being in the garden had always reinforced his memory.  No reason it couldn’t bolster Cas’ strength.  He tried not to think that this wasn’t real communion, because the kids did it, and the kids were real.

He did look over at Cas occasionally.  He glowed like he was in heaven, but he didn’t sparkle with the mark of God.  That touch of divinity had waxed and waned since he first pulled Michael’s grace from hiding, but it had never disappeared entirely.  Not until now.

“Perhaps I overstepped,” Castiel murmured.  He was slouched so low on the bench that he could tip his head back and rest it on the uncomfortable wooden slats.  Except that they rounded beneath his neck, easing the pressure and making him smile as the back of the bench curled over on itself.  His hand found Dean’s knee and squeezed.

“Maybe you just used it all,” Dean said.

This made Cas exhale something that could have been a laugh.  “Dean, I created a garden of eden.  A new world from nothing, filled with inanimate things that have since come to life.  I don’t think healing a few soldiers of grace would do what that could not.”

“A few?” Dean repeated.  “Try all of them.  You basically turned back time.”

“Here I started time,” Castiel said.

“Heaven’s a lot bigger than the garden,” Dean told him.

Castiel closed his eyes.  “You helped in heaven,”  he said.

“I’m helping here!”  Dean broke off when he felt the blanket in his arms shift, weight a little heavier on one side than the other.  “Hey, don’t piss me off,” he said.  “You’ll wake the baby.”

Cas was smiling again, face turned toward the sky.  “Sam says that too,” he said.  “I think it’s more likely that she’ll simply mimic your frustration.”

“Same damn thing,” Dean told him.  “Look, god or not, I don’t care.  All I care about is you.  How you’re doing, if you’re safe, all that stuff.  So if this is what you need, good.  But if there’s something else, tell me.”

“I need you to let me avoid communion until I’m strong enough to handle it.”  The smile had faded, but Cas hadn’t opened his eyes.  “I think you believe I’m representative of the fallen, and that saving me will somehow save them.  But when humans stand before the gate, they are each only responsible for themselves.  For their own thoughts, and actions… their own choices.”

Cas turned his head then, opening his eyes and looking straight at Dean.  “Perhaps we too must save ourselves.”

It obviously meant something to him.  Cas was trying to tell him something important, and all Dean could hear was, I don’t need you.  He tried to breathe, because no one was saying that and this wasn’t about him.  Still, Cas knew what he was thinking even if he was waiting for Dean to answer.  He couldn’t exactly lie.

“Cas,” he said.  “No offense, but other people are crap at saving themselves.”

It must not have been the wrong thing to say, because it made Cas smile: real and honest and everything Dean wanted.  “I didn’t say you couldn’t help,” he said.

Dean wasn’t going to question that.  It didn’t keep him from being curious.  “How come you tell me stuff when I ask that you’d never say otherwise?” he wanted to know.  “You’re allowed to just say what you think.  Perk of free will and all that.”

“I do say what I think.”  Castiel seemed more amused by this question than anything, but it was probably the smile.  “I say what I think all the time.  The answer just makes more sense after you’ve asked the question.”

“Okay, whatever, you don’t have to practice being mystical and all-knowing on me.”  The sad thing was that Cas would make an awesome god.  Dean was pretty sure there were songs about it.  But as much as he joked around with the ishim, he wasn’t about to encourage it as an actual career choice.

“No one else would believe it,” Castiel said.  He rolled his head back to look at the sky, and Dean was pretty sure that was a pretend sigh.

“Liar,” he said.  Just to make sure.

Cas didn’t smile this time, but his expression was pleased.

They sat there for some time.  Adamel sat with them, though he didn’t say anything.  Dean watched Maribel and Wildfire play, angel acrobatics mixed with human movement, and he wondered if Maia would walk or fly first.  He wondered if Cas knew.

He wondered where Cas had gotten his fondness for children.

“The road is an infinite loop,” Castiel remarked out of nowhere.

Dean glanced at him, but he was still staring up at the sky.  Dean looked over his shoulder.  The road behind them was quiet, but Cas was right.  It did eventually curve back on itself.  He shrugged.  “I wanted to be able to drive forever?”

“Did you?”  Cas turned to look at him again, like maybe that was the answer he’d been looking for.

“I guess,” Dean said with a shrug.  “I don’t even know what it’s doing when you’re here.  I got nothing when you’re gone.”

“That is clearly untrue.”  Cas lifted his head enough to look around before glancing back at Dean.  “It seems very well-integrated to me.”

Dean smiled.  “You’re a little biased, man.”

“As I should be,” Cas agreed.  “When do you expect Ellen to wake?”

Dean laughed, because this was the kind of stubbornness that totally worked for him.  “She gets up early,” he said.  “We could just go back later.  From here, I mean.  How are you doing?”

“Better.”  Cas didn’t even pretend he didn’t know what Dean was asking.  “This is all – it all came from you and me.  To be here is comforting.”

“Less lonely?” Dean guessed, his gaze flicking to Adamel and back.  It was one of many reasons he didn’t like to see Cas keep himself separate from the choir.  The younger angels weren’t made to be alone.

“Yes,” Cas admitted.  “It will be enough, I think.  To pass as fully powered if anyone asks.”

Especially with Michael there to reinforce him.  Dean wasn’t stupid; he knew how Jophiel stayed on her feet, and Cas wasn’t afraid to use Michael’s name as much as his power.  “Don’t let anyone make you prove it,” he warned.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas repeated.  “I remember how you passed as Michael.  That lesson has been helpful to me many times since.”

“Oh, hey, a teachable moment,” Dean said with a smirk.  “And I didn’t even know it.”

“Consider this another,” Castiel said.  “Tell me about weddings.”

“You must have seen weddings before,” Dean said, but he saw Adamel sit up, turning a little to face him, and he wondered if this was for Cas or the kids.  “Hell, you saw our wedding.”

“And I remember little of it,” Castiel pointed out.  “You assured me that the real wedding would be different.  So anything I did see is not useful.”

“Sure it is,” Dean said.  “Lots of stuff about weddings doesn’t change.  I mean, I’m no expert, but everyone dresses up, right?  And they all get together and take pictures of each other.  And there’s food and flowers and stuff.”

“How should we dress up?” Adamel asked.  Softly enough that maybe no one would notice he was speaking.

“Guys wear suits,” Dean told him.  “Girls wear dresses.  Mostly.”  He thought about Gabriel, and then he thought about Maribel.  “Sort of,” he added.  “Wear whatever you want as long as it’s nice.”

Except that wasn’t any better, so he said, “We’ll help you.  Ellen’s good at that stuff; she’ll know.”

“She and Jo picked the colors,” Cas remarked quietly.

Dean knew what he meant.  “Yeah, we shouldn’t let them do that.”  The red had actually been pretty cool, but they didn’t need anything else to remind them.  “You got a favorite color?”

The answer wasn’t exactly a surprise.  “I like all colors.”

Dean reached out and tugged on the sleeve of his dark blue shirt.  “Whatever, Mr. I Wear Blue All The Freakin’ Time.  Blue and… I dunno.  Green?  That okay?”

Cas studied him curiously.  “Are we supposed to choose two colors?”

“Beats me,” Dean said.  “Jo said red and white, right?  So probably.  It’s probably some secret wedding thing.”

“We should ask Ellen,” Castiel said.

Dean rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, I’ve been saying.”

This time it worked, though.  Ellen didn’t seem surprised to see any of them, but she did forbid them to explain anything until after she’d had coffee.  “I don’t need to know,” she said, ignoring the fireplace.  “I’m not joking.”

As usual, that meant all the kids wanted coffee too.  Ellen didn’t seem inclined to stop them, and Cas didn’t know why it was a problem, so Dean was left trying to explain why kindergarten angels shouldn’t drink coffee.  Again.  None of them argued, and somehow that made it worse: they just accepted that they couldn’t have coffee because he said so.  Perversely, it made him want to throw up his hands and pour them some damn coffee.

Ellen rolled her eyes when he grumbled, but she gave them juice instead.  She also made Cas tell her what they were all doing at the Roadhouse at five in the morning.  This turned out to be the fastest way, because he said, “Dean and I would like to be married as soon as possible.  Dean has suggested we consult with you on aspects of the ceremony.”

“As soon as possible, huh?”  Dean could feel her staring at him, so he was careful not to look.  Whatever, he’d proposed.  Eventually.

“Well,” Ellen said, apparently giving him up as a lost cause.  “How soon is possible depends on how much help I’m gonna get.”

“We’ll help,” Dean told his coffee cup.  “Me and Cas, we can… uh, do the setup and takedown.”

Ellen scoffed.  “No way,” she said.  He looked up in surprise, and she added, “It’s your wedding; you’ll have enough on your minds.  What about your boy, the one that likes Sam?  You spare him?”

It actually took Dean a second to get it.  In his defense, it wasn’t like she didn’t know Gabriel’s name.

“Gabriel?”  Cas got it faster than he did, probably because he didn’t have the gender confusion working against him.  “No, that’s not a good idea.”

Right.  Because Gabriel had been married, and they’d brought up enough bad memories as it was.

“Sach?” Dean suggested.  “You think she’d want to help?”

“Yes.”  Cas didn’t hesitate.  “She is skilled in areas such as these.”

“We can help,” Maribel interrupted.  “Too.  We’re very good at manipulating environments.”

“Yeah,” Ellen said, frowning at the fireplace.  “I see that.”

She hadn’t even heard what Adamel had done to Australia.  Dean was just as happy to keep it that way.  “Thanks,” he said, hoping to head off details.  “That’d be great.  Just remember to do what Ellen says, okay?  This is her place, and she knows what she’s talking about.”

“Better than you,” Ellen agreed.  “So, you thinking next weekend?”

Dean exchanged glances with Cas, who nodded.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Yeah, next weekend would be great.”

Ellen was staring at him again.  “Okay, I was kidding,” she said, putting her coffee mug down.  “You’re not.”

“No,” Dean said.  “We’re not.”

He knew Cas was smiling without having to look.

There was a long moment of silence, and then Ellen said, “So tell me about this wedding you want to have.”

He and Cas were about as good at planning a wedding as Ellen was.  Which was to say, Ellen had at least been to weddings, including her own, and Dean had interviewed people who had gone to weddings.  Cas was the most useful, because he actually had opinions and a weirdly successful strategy of asking the children what they thought.

It took almost half an hour for Dean to realize it wasn’t just the children.  Cas was reading Dean’s mind and answering Ellen’s questions the way Dean wouldn’t.  If he had opinions, they were mostly about what Dean thought was cool and useful and what he thought was stupid.

“Dude,” Dean blurted out.  “It’s your wedding too.”  Which was a really strange thing to say.  He had a surreal moment where he thought maybe they were both in some alternate universe where stuff like this happened.

Again.

Then he decided the fact that he assumed Cas would be in that kind of universe with him was probably a good enough reason to shut his mouth and keep going.  “Seriously, you’re just saying what I’m thinking.  You don’t have to do that.”

Ellen was looking from one of them to the other while the kids made flower chains on the floor.  Actual flower chains, Dean had checked, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask why.  “This a private conversation?” Ellen wanted to know.

Dean waited, because what did he know?

“No, of course not.”  Cas sounded surprised, and Dean tried not to smile.  Of course he didn’t think it was a private conversation: Ellen was here, so by definition it wasn’t between the two of them.  It might not even occur to him to wonder whether it should be or not.

Dean figured that answered the question as much as anything.

“Then speak up,” Ellen told them.  “You want my help, you’re gonna have to talk to me.”

He was pretty sure he didn’t, actually.  If Cas was going to keep doing it for him.

“Dean.”  Cas sounded carefully impatient, which was some trick.  “This is a human ritual.  Not only am I unfamiliar with the intricacies of the activity, I am equally unsure which parts you will value and which you will not consider.

“Until Ellen asks,” he added, “at which point your visceral reaction is clear to me.  If you will not voice it, I will.  But I have few such reactions of my own.”

Dean held up his hands.  “As long as you’re cool with it,” he said.  “I’m cool with it.”

Wildfire looked up before he heard Jophiel, quiet through the choir but unmistakable in her urgency.  Michael.  Unspoken was the rest of the message: this was a problem, he should come, she couldn’t handle it without him.  There was no sense of danger, imminent or otherwise.  Just her conviction that he would want to be where she was if he knew what was happening.

“Just a second,” he said, for Ellen’s benefit.  “Cas?”

Cas’ certainty that it was the soldiers, the malakhim who had just pledged to Dean, came through without a word.  “You should go,” he said.  Then he added, “I should go.  This is not a priority.”

“This is a priority,” Dean insisted.  Not because it was more important, but because he couldn’t let that go.  “We’re gonna make this happen, Cas.”

This time, Cas actually smiled at him.  “I believe it,” he said.

Dean heard the echo of I need to know you believe that in his words, and he nodded.  “Okay,” he said.  “Good.  Ellen, I’m sorry –”

“You have to go,” she said.  “Got it.  You want me to keep the kids?”

Dean almost said no: they were through the worst of it, hopefully, and the kids had proven they could take care of themselves. But then Cas said, “If you wouldn’t mind,” and Dean raised his eyebrows at the unexpectedly appropriate politeness.

“Be my pleasure,” Ellen said with a smile.

Just because they can doesn’t mean they should have to, Cas said silently.

Dean stared at him for a long moment, even after Cas turned to the children and asked them to stay with Ellen.  Told them, really, but he phrased it like a request.  He told them that The List was temporarily suspended, and they should only surrender themselves to the custody of a parent or a guardian assigned by a parent.  He told them to the go to the garden if they were endangered.

That made Dean think of Sam, and garrisons that were no longer safe.  He reached for Gabriel automatically.  He got an impatient no change that could have been worse.  It wasn’t any better, but it could have been worse.

“I’ll be in heaven,” Cas was telling him.  “Call for me if I can help.”

Dean managed to get it together enough to nod.  “Yeah, same to you,” he said.  Because Cas had been some kind of father figure from the day Maribel had climbed into Dean’s lap and stole his pie.  Right?  Cas had always been looking out for them, doing the best he could.  Protecting them from anything that threatened them.

But maybe Dean hadn’t realized how much of a dad Cas was until right now.

He let Jophiel know he was coming and he might have been there before it registered.  Jesse wasn’t with her anymore.  The rest of Zachariah’s former angels were.  They looked sadly out of place in Anna’s student lounge, although Dean was pretty sure there wasn’t anywhere on earth they’d fit in better.  They hadn’t come out of hiding for humanity.

Jophiel’s wordless agreement combined with relief that he understood, and Dean wanted to smile.  He hadn't figured that out. He’d gotten that straight from her.  His mind was still on Cas, seeing Cas disappear as soon as he left, wondering what reception he’d find with Rachel, hoping Anna knew better than to antagonize someone wearing a ring of the apocalypse.

Imagining the baby in Cas’ arms.  Trying to remember what he’d looked like at their wedding reception when he couldn’t stop smiling.  Planning way too many excuses for prying Cas away tonight.

“This garrison belongs to Anael,” he said.  “We’re based in heaven.”

The command to follow was unyielding.  Instinctive.  Being Michael didn’t mean he forgot – not this time – it just meant he could do everything.  All at once.  He understood Jophiel’s warning.  He felt the reluctance of his own rebel angels.  He wanted Cas, he worried about the kids, and he tried to figure out how the hell to keep Sam safe even as he reclaimed a garrison that had been disbanded decades ago.

The dome lit up from the inside.  Michael’s sigil sparkled on the water.  Heaven held four garrisons: more than half its original number, the force of the malakhim strong and growing again.  Reinforcing the voice of the choir.  

Probably scaring the shit out of rebels who weren’t used to being surrounded.  They might have been quietly judgmental on earth, Jophiel’s practical recruitment strategy a far cry from Zachariah’s grandiose promises, but they couldn’t have expected absolution to be so fast.  Or so thorough.

Long before Cas fell, Michael thought, there was the first rebellion: allowing a nickname.  When he fell, he embraced it.  Even after the host had welcomed him back, he clung stubbornly to the name he’d made his own.  Michael understood the power of personal identity in a way few others could.

So he turned to the nearest angel and held out his hand.  “Hey,” he said.  “I’m Dean.  What do you want us to call you?”

They all gave angelic names, or variations of them.  But they also shook his hand – a human gesture if there ever was one – and they did answer.  They recognized not only his authority, but the nature of the question he’d posed.

It was a start.

Three days later, his phone registered nine missed calls, six voice mails, and 42 texts when he landed outside Sam’s place.  It was the first time he’d left heaven since introducing his garrison, and if only three days had passed on earth he thought he was doing pretty well.  Cas had been in heaven almost the entire time, though he’d stayed away from Michael’s garrison.  He’d done it reluctantly, Dean knew, and the rest of heaven had done it deferentially.

The deference was thorough enough that Anna turned up on earth a day after she’d left, all of her angels in tow.  She took back her base and turned Jesse loose, which as far as Dean could tell meant he’d spent most of his time with the other kids.  Not with Lucifer, or with Sam, or even with Samael in Australia.

It made more sense when Dean realized that Becky knew not only the children, but also what it meant when they were all gathered somewhere and left alone.  She and her apparently vagabond fans were keeping Ellen in business, and they’d taken it upon themselves to entertain the kids while their parents were absent.  They were disturbingly good at it.

Somewhat to his surprise, Jophiel was still with him.  She had stayed with Michael’s garrison the entire time.  Even now she was in heaven while Dean took a time-out on earth, and if she wasn’t careful he’d find a bribe Sam would take and keep her forever.

First he had to find Sam.  He was listening to his voice mail while he banged on Sam’s door, because yeah, he could walk in, but who knew what Sam and Gabriel were up to lately.  First they were dating, then she wasn’t his girlfriend.  They slept together but they didn’t have sex.  Sam told Dean he loved her and he told Gabriel he hated her.  They shared a house and a kid, but Gabriel didn’t look willing to fight for it and Sam was currently hosting her brother.

He wasn’t walking into any of that without a little warning.  The first voice mail was from Sam anyway, thanking Dean for taking off and kidnapping Jophiel in the process.  The second was also from Sam, warning him that he was promoting Sachiel and no, Dean couldn’t have her for wedding prep.

Gabriel appeared on the porch before Dean got to the third message.  “He’s not here,” she said.  “Lucifer has him doing couples’ counseling with Rebecca.  Well, threesome counseling,” she added.  “This state needs more poly therapists; we should start a program.  How to Date Married People.  I think it has potential.”

It was just as easy to keep listening to his messages, so Dean heard Jo tell him that if he cared about wedding music he’d better call her back.  At the same time he told Gabriel, “If the kindergarten teacher’s still sane, she probably needs counseling.  Did she freak out on the kids?”

“I don’t think she was ever sane,” Gabriel said.  “There’s something wrong with that woman, because she’s fine.  She got possessed by Lucifer and she’s perfectly fine.  Doesn’t that strike you as a little odd?”

Dean frowned at her.  Yeah, it was weird, but last he knew Gabriel liked the kids’ kindergarten teacher.  She’d kept Sam from saying yes for a whole month and a half, and for Gabriel it was all about Sam.  So why the –

“Couples’ counseling?” Dean repeated.  

Sam’s third message told Dean that Lucifer had to go to hell, so he was leaving Gabriel in charge of the garrison.  “She’ll fight,” Sam’s voice said in his ear.  “She’ll fight if she has to, if you need her to.  Just… make sure you need her to.  Okay?”

There was a long pause, and Dean watched Gabriel stare at him.  Obviously listening while Sam’s message said, “Don’t break her, Dean.”

“He went to hell?” Dean said.  “You didn’t think that was worth mentioning?”

Gabriel shrugged.  “What were you gonna do?  Fly down here and kick Lucifer out?  Pretty sure you tried that already, and look where it got us.”

“Why are they talking to Rebecca.”  Sam was all right, or Gabriel wouldn’t be this calm.  Hell needed Lucifer.  Earth needed Sam.  Shared possession was doomed from the beginning, but Sam would never let someone else say yes when he could stop it.

“Why do you think?” Gabriel asked, rolling her eyes.  “She likes Lucifer.  Demons don’t faze her, and she’s freakin’ amazing with angels.  Her brain is like some idiot savant wandered in and cleared out everything except peace and love and the ABCs.  She can’t be corrupted if there’s nothing in there to mess up.”

Bobby had left a message for him yesterday: fifteen seconds of bitching, but it got his point across.  “You idjits couldn’t plan a wedding to save your life, and I had to hear about it from Ellen?  Don’t expect a dowry.”

It distracted Dean enough that he almost forgot to make fun of Gabriel.  It was her expression that did it, though, and he smirked at her while he let the last message play.  “Sounds like a threesome isn’t gonna cut it.  Didn’t anyone tell you not to let Sam get counseling without his wife?”

“If Lucifer gets her killed,” Gabriel said, “who do you think Sam will blame?”

“If it gets him out of Sam,” Dean told her, “I don’t really care.”

Lisa had left him voice mail.  He wasn’t sure that had ever happened before.  He was sure that Ben shouldn’t spend so much time on the internet, because seriously, Becky’s “Supernatural” forums were not kid-friendly.  Of course she’d posted about the wedding, and of course Ben had figured out that it was real, and now Lisa was calling with congratulations and so many apologies that he didn’t even realize Ben wanted to come at first.

“I promised him I’d ask you,” her message said.  “It was the only way to keep him from calling you himself.  I’m sorry, Dean; I know we’re not part of your life but he worships you, he really does.  He thinks he knows you from those books and the internet, you know?  So now I’ve asked.  If I don’t hear from you I’ll tell him it didn’t work out.  Stay safe, Dean, and I mean this: be happy.  Okay?  Okay.  Bye.”

Gabriel was complaining about how stupid he was, which was appropriate, but Dean hung up and scrolled through to Lisa’s number.  He didn’t know what to say, but she’d called more than 24 hours ago.  That was a long time to wait for an answer about something that was probably only a few days away.

He should really catch up with Cas at some point.

Cas, he thought.  Hi, I love you, when’s the wedding?

Sunday, Cas replied immediately, and Dean grinned.

“Why am I even standing here?” Gabriel wanted to know.  “I have a garrison to run.”

Her wings whooshed around her in a typically dramatic way, and Dean rolled his eyes.  Lisa’s phone went to voice mail, which was fair, so he said, “Hey, Lisa, it’s Dean.  I’ve been out of touch for a few days.  The wedding’s this Sunday; I want you guys to come if you’re free.  Don’t make travel plans.  I’m gonna call you back with details.”

It didn’t occur to him until after he’d hung up that there was a reason Cas and Anna were on and off these days.  Hey, he thought.  Can I invite Ben and Lisa?

They’re on the guest list, Cas told him.  I can review it for you, if you wish.  Ellen has a copy as well.

There was a guest list?

That’s awesome, Dean decided.  You doing okay?  Gabriel seems pissy; should I be worried about Sam?

I’m fine, Castiel said.  My garrison would benefit from communion.  If you have the time.

There was an obvious pause, and Dean tried not to think about what that meant.  Cas was asking for something.  Dean could do it.  Simple as that.

Sure, he said.  Let me see Sam first.

Of course.  Cas felt surprised and grateful and Dean tried not to smile when he thought Cas might not be so afraid of communion if he was there.  He was thinking that because Cas thought it, and it didn’t make any sense but Dean wasn’t going to argue.  I believe he’s with Rebecca Milliman.

So was Lucifer.  Dean didn’t have to ask when the devil opened the door and Rebecca’s face stared out at him.  “Hello,” she said with a small smile.  “Would you like to come in?”

“Sam here?” Dean asked bluntly.

“Nice to see you too,” Lucifer said, stepping out of the way.  “I notice heaven’s open again.”

“Yeah, funny thing about fugitives,” Dean said.  “They don’t like being trapped.”

“Oh, are we fugitives now?” Lucifer asked.  She looked amused.

Dean wasn’t going to play that game.  He found Sam in the kitchen with an armful of blankets that had to be Maia, and suddenly the conversation on the porch made more sense.  “Okay,” he said.  “Now I see why Gabriel was pissed.”

“Hey, Dean.”  Sam looked up, and he was smiling too.  If Sam and Lucifer were cooing over Gabriel’s baby, then they really had brought on the apocalypse.  “Everything okay upstairs?”

Dean stared at him.  “That’s it?  ‘Everything okay upstairs’?”

“Considering I’m holding an angel baby who’s learning everything about how to interact with the world from the people around her?”  Sam’s smile stayed firmly in place.  “Yeah, Dean.  That’s it.”

“That’s convenient,” Dean grumbled.  It wasn’t the worst argument.  “You know Gabriel’s freaked about you playing house with Lucifer, right?”

Sam’s eyes went to something behind him, and he didn’t have to look to know Lucifer was standing in the doorway.  “If I’m playing house with anyone, it’s Gabriel,” Sam said.  “Lucifer’s just trying to keep us alive.”

“Us?” Dean repeated, not turning.  “Who’s us?”

“Me,” Sam said.  “You.  The kids.”  He got up, shifting Maia a little higher in his arms.  “Look, if you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“Yeah,” Dean said.  “You know what, I do have something to say.”

He turned around.  Lucifer was leaning casually against the doorframe, watching Sam as closely as Dean had been.  Her cute teacher face wore the same expression Sam’s had when he asked if they wanted help.  “Stay the hell away from Sam,” Dean told her.

She held up her hands, mottled wings ragged and ferocious at her back.  Huge and terrifying and barely contained by an unassuming young woman.  Dean wasn’t sure which of them would die if they ran out of track, but he had a bad feeling that he was the underdog.  

“Well, I need to go,” Sam said from behind him.  “So.  Thanks, I guess.”  His tone made it clear that he wasn’t talking to Dean, but Dean looked at him anyway and Sam added, “To Rebecca, too.”

“Of course.”  Lucifer made it sound like switching vessels, helping angels, those were just things she did.  Because she was such a class act.  “Rebecca is also appreciative.”

Yeah, Dean thought.  Sure she was.

“Okay,” Sam said.  He made it awkwardly around the table, but he paused before he got to the door.  “Dean?  Coming?”

It was clearly not a question.  Dean followed him out, giving Lucifer a warning look as he passed.  She returned it with a serene smile that made him think maybe Gabriel was right.  No face should have that many calmer-than-thou expressions.

He got some small amount of satisfaction from slamming the front door behind him.  “You’re pretty buddy-buddy with the devil there.”

“Dean.”  Sam didn’t try to make the Maia argument again, but he shifted her closer in one arm as he turned around.  “We shared a brain for three days, okay?  That kind of thing… gives you a different perspective.”

“Yeah, well, I shared heaven with her for thousands of years,” Dean snapped.  “And what do you know, she still left me to rot in hell.”

“I’m not defending the devil!” Sam exclaimed.  “I’m just saying, she didn’t drop the ball this time.  And Rebecca seems… weirdly okay with it.  You wanted her gone,” he reminded Dean.  “She’s gone.”

“For how long?” he demanded.  “You said yes once.  What’s it gonna take to make you do it again?  Not such a hard decision the second time, right?  I mean, she let you go once!  Why not roll the dice again!”

Sam sighed, toying with the edge of Maia’s blanket with his thumb.  “What do you want me to say?  I won’t do it?  There’s nothing worth that kind of risk?  I’ll never put my life on the line for you, never watch the stuff that’s coming for you and try to get in front of it?”

“I want you to say you get what just happened!”  Dean glared at him.  “You got out of your deal, Sammy.  That doesn’t happen.  Not for free.  Not ever.  I wanna know you understand the consequences, and I want you to think about it!  Don’t just do it because that’s what we do, okay?  If you’re gonna do it, do it because it makes sense.  Because you used your brain.”

Sam stood there, quiet for a long moment.  Unreadable except for the expressions on his face.  The ones that said he hadn’t expected that, that Dean had surprised him, and maybe it wasn’t the worst surprise in the world.  “Okay,” he said at last, and Dean threw up his hands.

“Thank you,” he said.  “Can we go?”

He expected Sam to snark back at him, to roll his eyes at least.  But all he got was a shake of the head, like Sam hadn’t even been thinking of that.  “Uh, yeah,” he said.  “Yeah.  Let’s go.”

Famine’s horse came out of nowhere when Dean spread his wings, so he waited for Sam to go and he followed him.  It should probably worry him that Sam and Cas both seemed to think he was acting strangely.  Except neither of them was complaining.  Did that mean whatever he was doing was good?

If it shut Sam up and it made Cas smile, he figured it couldn’t be all bad.

Gabriel waved the door open for them when they got there – for Sam, probably, but Dean took advantage. She was pretending to ignore them, which worked for the five seconds it took Sam to walk over and push Maia into her arms. “She wants you,” he told her.

“She has standards,” Gabriel replied.

“Lucifer says hi,” Sam said.

“Couldn’t care less.” Gabriel turned away from the table with Maia, keeping her eyes on the baby as she said, “You want separate bachelor parties?”

Dean glanced at Sam, because even for Gabriel it had to be a little early to start planning Maia’s wedding. Sam only shrugged. So Dean asked, “Me and Cas?” Just to make sure.

“No, you and Sam,” Gabriel retorted. She lifted her gaze from Maia long enough to roll her eyes at Dean. “Where have you been? Who else is getting married this weekend? The state of Nebraska is gonna run out of flowers and you won’t even notice it happened.”

“We don’t need separate parties,” Dean said carefully. “All our friends know each other.”

“Can you imagine Cas at his own bachelor party?” Sam was grinning at him, so he must not be breaking Gabriel. Since when did she agree to have anything to do with the wedding? “He’d probably drink Ellen under the table.”

“Wait,” Dean said, as a terrible thought occurred to him. “Does this mean no strippers?”

Gabriel snorted. “You’re going to a bachelor party with your husband-to-be and you want to know if there’ll be strippers?” She didn’t even pause long enough for Dean to frown. “Of course there’ll be strippers. I’m planning it. Half the entertainment will be naked people, and the other half will be watching Cas try to fix everyone’s self-esteem.”

“Don’t torture Cas,” Dean said automatically. “He’s nervous enough already.”

“He’s really not,” Gabriel told him. “You know he went and applied for a marriage license yesterday? All by himself. For future reference, he can forge your signature really well. The notary thing didn’t surprise me, but signing for you… that was pure sass.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Who told him how to apply for a marriage license?”

Sam waved. “Not actually that hard, Dean.”

Dean pointed a finger at Gabriel. “Don’t let her turn this into a circus,” he told Sam.

Sam scoffed. He’d clearly been spending too much time around Gabriel. “You love a circus,” he told Dean. “If it’s not depraved, it’s not a bachelor party; isn’t that what you always say? There’s no one better than Gabriel to plan it.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel said. “Your opinion means so much.”

“I gotta go,” Dean told Sam. “Kids okay? You need anything?”

“No, we’re good here,” Sam said. “The kids are fine. Becky and Charlie are taking them to school, and they switch off with Emily for afternoon field trips. It’s probably the most human exposure they’ve ever gotten.”

“Don’t worry,” Gabriel added. “It’s fixable.”

“Maribel’s been spending nights here,” Sam said, giving Gabriel a dirty look. “With Maia. But she misses you guys.”

“Yeah, we suck as parents.” Dean didn’t need to be told, but there was only so much he could do. Right now keeping them safe was more important. If he had to drag heaven kicking and screaming back from civil war to do it then he would. “At least we come by it honestly.”

He took off before he could see the look Sam would give him for that. He did hear his brother yell, “Use the door!” but if that was all Sammy had then he’d gotten off easy. He must be trading on pre-wedding goodwill.

He didn’t bother announcing himself at Cas’ garrison. He just barged in, because hey, he didn’t mind when Cas did it. He didn’t get yelled at for that either, so maybe it was okay or maybe the whole wedding thing was getting him more points than he realized.

He played it safe by not pushing communion on Cas, who took it anyway, and wow, his day really was looking up. Even if Cas was crying afterward, again, and fuck, Dean was the worst boyfriend ever because he had no idea what to do. Heaven hadn’t retaliated. Conquest hadn’t taken over. The choir was ragged but continuous, and the host would heal.

So what did Castiel need?

Home. The voice in his head was familiar, and he thought it was funny that Cas would curl into his thoughts after bothering to manifest something as human as tears. Love. I need certainty, something I can be sure of. The choir reminds me of what it was like to have that.

“You still have that,” Dean said, frowning at him. He didn’t mean to. Cas was answering the question he hadn’t asked, and he should be glad. It happened rarely enough.

“I have you,” Cas told him. “It’s not the same as having orders.”

He definitely meant to frown this time. “Do you want orders?”

“No.” Cas was calm and sure, tears disappearing even as Dean watched. Hey, if there was one thing Dean was good at, it was annoying people out of whatever mood they were in. “But I remember what it was like to believe in something so completely. To know truth without question.”

He hesitated then, and Dean got that Cas didn’t mean him when he added, “This is… much harder.”

“Yeah,” Dean said with a sigh. “Sorry to drag you into it.”

“I’m not.” Cas was staring at him, and yeah, annoyed was the right word. “Good things do happen, Dean. No one said they would be easy.”

“Yeah?” Dean repeated. He could feel a smile trying to sneak its way out. “This a good thing, then?”

Cas tilted his head, and he was so totally faking the thoughtful expression. “I suppose it depends who you ask.”

“You,” Dean said, stepping closer. “I’m asking you.”

“This is the best thing,” Castiel said without hesitation. “For me.”

Dean couldn’t hide his smile anymore. “It’s a sad day, Cas,” he said. “When someone thinks I’m the best thing that ever happened to them.”

“I didn’t say ever,” Cas told him, and Dean laughed.

“Attaboy,” he said, reaching up to pat Cas’ cheek. “I’d ask if you want to come sleep it off, but Sam says we’re neglecting the kids and if we’re both gonna leave heaven at the same time we better make sure Rachel and Jophiel are on a first-name basis.”

Castiel just looked at him, and Dean grinned. “You know what I mean.”

He got a small smile in return. “More often than I used to,” Castiel said. “Yes.”

It turned out that Rachel and Jophiel knew each other better than he’d expected. Cas seemed to take it in stride, and yeah, they were both friends of his so maybe it seemed normal to him that they’d get along. But Dean was suspicious of their easy camaraderie until it occurred to him they were both strategists. Successful strategists, who managed precarious garrisons in the absence of unpredictable and very non-traditional archangels.

No one did that without knowing who their allies were, and Jophiel hadn’t been gone from heaven so long that she couldn’t recognize a soldier like Rachel when she saw one.

“You worried they’ll take over while we’re gone?” Dean whispered. They stood just outside the light spilling from Sam’s garrison on earth, and there were two kids and a baby inside. All asleep.

“I wish they would,” Castiel murmured. He was probably joking about as much as Dean had been: mostly, but not completely. “This is not a responsibility I ever sought.”

Dean snorted. “Tell me about it.”

Castiel didn’t, so he figured that was one more thing Cas understood now that he might not have a few years ago. They stood there in silence for seconds that stretched into minutes, watching the garrison strengthen. Incrementally, infinitesimally, the blight of Lucifer’s stand still fading as new growth appeared.

Other buildings were faint in the shadows: Sam’s house, Gabriel’s barn, Dean and Castiel’s home base. Places that weren’t really there, linked by portals Gabriel had created solely so Sam could come and go as he pleased. Before Famine. Before the rider’s ring that gave Sam access to any place on earth.

“Adamel and Jesse are with Anna,” Castiel said at last.

Dean nodded, distantly aware that Cas had called her by her chosen name again.

“Sleeping,” Castiel added, and Dean smiled.

“Yeah,” he said. “Where’d they get all these human habits from, anyway?”

“I couldn’t say.”

Dean turned to look at him. “Well, hey,” he said. “All the cool kids are doing it. You wanna?”

Castiel eyed him like maybe Dean shouldn’t push it. “All the cool kids?”

“All the people we like,” Dean said. “Some of the people we like. It’s just an excuse to do something we want to do, really.”

Cas wore a small smile, and Dean thought he’d understood after all but he wasn’t complaining about the explanation. “Sleep?” he asked.

“Or something,” Dean agreed, reaching out to pat the nearest wing. “You look like you’d be okay with a little feather love, there.”

He pulled the wing Dean was touching over his shoulder, inspecting it like it wasn’t his own. “Do you mean grooming?” Castiel asked. “Or is that a euphemism for something else?”

He still asked, Dean thought. Even though Dean had been so good about not propositioning him in public or other obviously obnoxious ways. He still asked.

Almost like he wanted the answer to be yes.

So Dean said, “Do you want it to be?”

Cas lifted his head and looked Dean in the eye. “Yes.”

“Then yeah,” Dean said, because he wasn’t stupid. “It totally was.”

He got a smile for that, and Cas wasn’t stupid either but he let it lie. It was only afterwards, when Dean had stroked the underside of Cas’ wing into submission and tugged at the leading edge thrown over him like a careless arm, whispering, “Can I?” that Cas turned his head and stared at him across the pillows.

“You really were talking about grooming,” he said. The words sounded faintly accusatory.

“I was,” Dean admitted. He didn’t know how else to say, I thought you might cry again if communion happened by accident, or even, I figured you had enough other stuff on your mind, without sounding like a jerk. “The sex was awesome, though. Thanks for that.”

“Did you not want it?” Castiel asked, frowning.

“I want it anytime you do,” Dean told him. “Seriously, Cas. You’re allowed to ask for it.”

“I didn’t ask.” The frown had smoothed out, but he was still studying Dean with an entirely typical intensity. “I just assumed.”

“You’re allowed,” Dean said. “I’ll tell you if it’s a bad time. I promised, remember?”

“You promised to tell me if something I did was too arousing.” Castiel’s wing twitched a little and resettled, giving Dean access to more of the long feathers on the leading edge. “So that I could touch you without fear of transgression.”

“This is the same thing,” Dean insisted. He pressed his fingers into a glow that cast no shadows, and the expression on Cas’ face softened further. “You don’t have to magically know what I want all the time,” he said. “I can tell you. That’s kind of what I’m here for.”

There was a quiet moment while Dean ran his fingers through misaligned feathers and quirky currents of energy. They smoothed out under his hand, curving and bright, the symmetrical overlap felt as much as seen. Cas watched through half-lidded eyes.

“That’s why you wish I would tell you things without being asked,” Castiel said at last.

Dean paused, trying to make the connection in his head.

“So that you may act without fear of causing pain,” Castiel said. “So that you may be assured I will stop you before some unintended slight goes too far.”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said. This part he understood. “Definitely stop me if I’m pissing you off.”

“And you?” Castiel asked. He pushed the bend of his wing into Dean’s hand and extended it, effectively pushing the hand away. “Will you stop me if I go too far?”

“Yeah,” Dean repeated, staring back at him. “I will.”

The wing under his hand relaxed, pulling in and away. “Thank you,” Cas mumbled, and the words were half-buried by the pillow as he rolled with the movement of his wing. “You may groom my wings now.”

“Oh, I may?” Dean said with a laugh. “All right then. Can I sit on you?”

Cas grunted in a way that was probably yes, so Dean rolled over and climbed onto his back. It wasn’t the most efficient way to care for wings as big as Castiel’s, but it was the most fun. He stayed there until he couldn’t reach anymore, and Cas was so relaxed he didn’t even protest when Dean slid off to comb his fingers all the way down to the ends.

“Dean,” Cas murmured, when Dean was way down at the end of his other wing. Almost done, and he knew as soon as Cas spoke that he’d been trying to ask this for a while. He looked up and found Cas watching him again. “Why don’t your wings stay smooth?”

He curled his fingers into grace and light. “I don’t know,” he said. “’Cause I’m a rebel, I guess?”

“No,” Cas said. “I mean…”

And maybe Cas spent too much time with humans, because he trailed off and didn’t finish. He pulled his wing away from Dean, though, gently and with a little waft of air that was probably intentional. “Look,” he said. He didn’t lift his head from the pillow, but his wings spread with an impressive flare and Dean smiled. “Mine are perfect,” Cas told him.

“You’re welcome,” Dean said with a laugh. “I think so too.”

“But yours aren’t.” Now he did sit up, one wing arcing over Dean’s head as he turned around. “I could spend all night on them and in the morning they’d be just as disheveled as they look now. It’s aggravating.”

Surprised, Dean let his smile fade. “Cas, it’s not your fault. That’s just what they do.”

“They shouldn’t,” Castiel insisted. “They should respond to my grace as mine respond to yours.”

“Oh, they respond,” Dean said. “Believe me, most of the continent knows they respond.”

“But it doesn’t show.” Castiel wasn’t happy about it, and if Dean knew how to stop joking he would. “You look like any newly fallen angel. All the time. Nothing I do can change it.”

“Cas.” He hadn’t realized it was a big deal, but obviously it was. “You know how I brush my hair?”

This got him another frown, and he figured it served him right for having to tell Cas he deserved to not be pissed off all the time. The stuff Cas got upset about was never the stuff he expected. Almost never.

“Of course.” Cas acted like it was a stupid question, but Dean leaned over and scrubbed his hand through Cas’ hair anyway. “It’s less effective with mine.”

Dean scoffed, eyeing the adorable bedhead he’d managed to make worse. “It’s effective,” he said. “Trust me.”

“I don’t know what this has to do with your wings,” Castiel said, though he sounded like he’d already conceded the fight.

“This is what I do to my hair,” Dean said, demonstrating on his own hair this time. “You ever think maybe I just like my wings ruffled?”

Cas was staring at him with a look of deep skepticism, and Dean relented.

“I do it on purpose,” he admitted. “I didn’t know it bothered you. I would have said something if I’d realized.”

“You do it on purpose,” Castiel repeated.

Dean shrugged.

“Of course you do,” Castiel said with a sigh. “I don’t know why I didn’t ask before.”

“Can I make it up to you?” Dean offered. He’d obviously done something wrong, even if he wasn’t exactly sure what it was. Maybe it was not noticing that Cas was upset, but hadn’t they just covered that? Some things had to be said. The answers made more sense after you’d heard the question, and all that.

“You could hold me.” It was quiet and not quite tentative. Like Cas sensed this was an uncomfortable thing to say aloud, but he didn’t know why and he didn’t want it to be, so he was ignoring it. Mostly.

Dean reminded himself that he’d done way cornier things without thinking twice. Just because Cas asked for it out loud didn’t make it embarrassing. “I think I’m getting out of this one easy,” he said, crawling up the bed to sink down beside Cas.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Cas murmured, turning into his embrace.

Dean shifted until his arm was where he wanted it to be, then he leaned in and kissed the top of Cas’ head. “Neither did you,” he said. “We’re in this together, man. All of it.”

Cas hummed contentedly, grace and throat vibrating as one.

It was good, and it was warm, and Dean didn’t question anything else until there was light in the room again. There were also more wings than he thought there should be. There was a body pressed up against his chest and another one at his back. He checked to make sure he was at least half-covered before he moved.

They hadn’t been under the sheets when they fell asleep, had they?

“Kids,” Dean said, easing onto his back to make sure they were who he thought they were. “We gotta talk about what a closed door means.”

“Your door is open,” Wildfire’s voice said.

Dean craned his neck, and sure enough, their bedroom door was cracked open.

“Cas,” he said. “We gotta talk about closing the door.”

There wasn’t the slightest movement from the body pressed up against his, and he tried not to think about how he’d gotten used to sleeping so close. Cas’ eyes didn’t open, but his voice didn’t sound sleepy when he said, “The door was closed.”

Dean tipped his head a little further to frown at Wildfire. She stared back at him.

At least the kids were on top of the covers, he thought. He still wasn’t sure how he and Cas weren’t, and it was sad that his standards were so low, but they were just kids. Lonely kids who missed their parents, probably at least as much as Cas missed home. Cas had it back and he still cried. The kids had them and they still lied.

“We’re terrible role models,” Dean muttered. Like anyone didn’t know that.

“You are,” Castiel agreed without lifting his head.

It made Dean smile, and maybe that was all he was going for because Cas opened his eyes and looked at him. “I love you anyway,” Cas told him.

Dean laughed. “Thanks,” he teased. “I’m glad my life is a forgivable sin.”

“Your life is a great blessing,” Castiel said. “Like my own, and those of the children.”

“Okay,” Dean said, because what else did you say when someone had that kind of conviction? “How about the blessed ones get some breakfast while you and I get dressed. Everyone okay with that?”

Maybe the kids felt bad about the door thing, or maybe they just didn’t want to rebel too openly. Whatever it was, something made them all shuffle off the bed and out the door. They didn’t look nearly dejected enough to win sympathy from someone who had grown up around Sam’s epic sulks.

Dean waited until they were gone to ask, “They wake you up when they came in?”

Cas just lay there staring at him. It was a good look for him. “I wasn’t sleeping, Dean.”

“Of course you weren’t,” Dean said. He waited, but Cas didn’t relent.

“So,” Dean said at last. “Breakfast?”

It was waiting for them by the time they reached the kitchen. The kids might be taking lessons from Gabriel, but they had to have gotten their habit of eating in the kitchen from Dean. He felt sort of absurdly proud about that.

The rest of the day was a weird mix of actually working, pretending to parent, and fielding ever more bizarre inquiries about the wedding. Friday was mostly the same, except that it also involved worrying about their bachelor party. Gabriel being in charge of it didn’t make Dean feel any better. Cas asked him about the ritual of the thing four separate times, and finally Dean had to tell him that it was a stupid tradition he couldn’t justify.

For whatever reason, that was the answer that made Cas stop.

And as soon as he stopped asking, Dean felt like a jerk. “It’s just a party, Cas.” He’d already tried that explanation and it hadn’t worked, but he still thought it was the best one he had. “Everyone gets together and has a little fun. God knows we need it.”

“I’m not good at having fun,” Cas told him, too seriously. “What if I… affect the mood of the party?”

“You will,” Dean said. “By making it better. Look, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to stay. Hell, I may not like it by the time Gabriel gets done with it.”

“So attendance is not mandatory.” Castiel sounded uncertain, and it was clearly a question.

“No,” Dean said. “Well, yeah. One of us should be there to get it started. But any good party is self-sustaining.”

“I see,” Castiel said. It was clear that he didn’t.

“The point is to go and get drunk,” Dean told him. “To be irresponsible. Getting married is supposed to be, you know. A commitment. This is like… the opposite of that.”

“The opposite of commitment.” He was frowning, and Dean gave up.

“Cas,” he said, as calmly as he could. He waited until Cas looked at him again. “I don’t know how to explain it any better. How about you just come and see for yourself?”

They didn’t end up having a choice. They were late, which wasn’t Dean’s fault – although it might have been Castiel’s – and Gabriel came all the way to heaven to get them. Dean was ready to get yelled at, snarked at, mocked or just generally made to feel guilty for whatever they were missing.

He wasn’t ready for Gabriel to slap a metal pin on the front of his flannel, another one on Cas’ shirt, and announce to thin air, “Three to beam up. Let’s go, Scotty; we don’t have all night.”

Dean looked down to see something suspiciously like a Starfleet communicator stuck to his shirt. Then the world dissolved into gold sparkles, which everyone should know was mixing generations, and what appeared in its place was a very convincing version of Ten Forward. Including the bartender.

“Next Generation transporters were silver,” Dean told Gabriel.

“Tell it to Cas,” Gabriel said. “Next you’ll be complaining about the Orion slave girls.”

“Dean!” Sam sounded unnecessarily cheerful for someone who was interrupting his search for Orion women. “Congratulations, man. Also, the music? Not my fault.”

The room was full of people he knew, some of whom he wouldn’t mind seeing naked but none of whom were green. As far as he could tell, the only music playing was REO Speedwagon. “What’s wrong with the music?” Dean asked.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “Never mind.”

“You know what you’re walking down the aisle to?” Jo asked, sidling up to him while Cas did a decent impression of a nervous bodyguard on his other side. “First dance? Second dance? Any of that?”

“Thought you were handling it,” Dean said, giving Cas the eye. “Cas, any closer and people are gonna think we’re the same person.”

“You actually trust me to pick the music?” Jo said skeptically.

“Sam.” Dean elbowed Sam, who was trying to get Cas a drink, and nodded in Bobby’s direction. “Good job.”

Bobby was heckling Ellen’s form for darts, and Dean was sure Ten Forward hadn’t had a dart board. They were both ignoring the rest of a considerably younger room, especially the part where Emily and Becky were laying out cup pyramids flat on one of the tables. Dean saw Chuck watching awkwardly from one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, so he figured that answered the question of why Becky had been invited.

“Well,” Sam said under his breath. He’d glanced in the direction of the dart game, but now he was pretending to stare off into space. “I said no weapons, but you try getting Ellen to go anywhere without something sharp and pointy.”

“I meant getting him to come,” Dean muttered. “Didn’t think you’d be able to drag him away from that network of his.” Bobby had been trying to turn his isolated hunter contacts into some kind of white pages for months, and lately he wouldn’t leave his home base unless Rufus was there to take over.

“Yeah, it’s like he’s thrown himself into some kind of cause,” Sam said. “He’s so caught up in it he doesn’t have time for anything else. I mean, who would act like that?”

Dean was nodding before he caught on, and he frowned at the look Sam was giving him. “You got something to say?”

“Yeah,” Sam told him. “Lighten up.”

“It’s the fate of the world,” Dean grumbled. “It doesn’t take vacations.”

“Dean,” Sam said. He put his hands on Dean’s shoulders and turned him around until he was face to face with Cas. “Lighten. Up.”

The expression on Cas’ face was very serious. He didn’t say anything, but he was obviously waiting for the word from Dean. The word to clear out, maybe, to get back to work. To do anything but stand around and enjoy himself.

“Right,” Dean heard himself say. “So. We need drinks.”

“I’ve been saying,” Sam agreed. “Jo, you want anything?”

“I’m good,” she said. “Any stupid drinking games you want to avoid? ’Cause it looks like Beer Pong is first on the list.”

“There’s no such thing as a stupid drinking game,” Dean told her. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Cas, who frowned at this, but he could hear her scoff.

“We’re not playing Spin the Bottle at a bachelor party,” Jo said. “Or Seven Minutes in Heaven, because we wouldn’t see you again for the rest of the night. But if this means you’re okay with Coming ’Round the Mountain, then it’s so on.”

“We have to already be drunk for that,” Sam cut in. “Start with Beer Pong. And I’m not playing Never Have I Ever with Cas, just so you know.”

“Get us drinks,” Dean told him. “You’re so much more fun wasted.”

“You know he’s an angel, right?” Sam was smirking at him. “You’re not gonna be able to drink him under the table.”

“Watch me,” Dean said.

It was worth it to watch the frown disappear from Castiel’s face.

It was only barely worth the pounding in his head the next morning. Being less than human did have some benefits, though. He managed to will his own headache away, and he let Cas kiss the lethargy out of his body. He picked up his phone long enough to text Sam, to make sure someone had offered to kill his hangover for him. Sam might be a happy drunk, but he definitely got carried away.

Dean had no idea where his little brother got that from.

Sam sent him a picture in return: Dean, with a green-skinned woman in his lap.

Dean backed out of the message before Cas could see it, but yeah, he remembered that. He also remembered unlabeled alcohol, something very green, and confiding to the bartender that Cas was way better for him than he had ever been to Cas. Probably everyone who saw them together knew that, but sometimes it still felt like a guilty secret.

Like Sam could read his mind, the next message was a picture of Dean leaning across the bar to whisper in Guinan’s ear.

“What did she tell you?” Castiel murmured.

He sighed, letting the picture linger until the screen went dark. “She said if I love you, I gotta respect the people you love.”

Castiel hummed approvingly. “That’s good advice.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean mumbled, burying his face in the pillow until he couldn’t breathe. When he lifted his head again, he had another text from Sam. “Doesn’t he have anything better to do?”

“Do you?” Cas sounded amused.

This was a picture of Dean, Jo, and Becky standing in front of the windows with their arms around each other and their hands arranged in a Vulcan salute. The sad part was that Jo was laughing the hardest, while Dean and Becky looked stupidly proud. He was trying to remember where Gabriel had been during that part of the evening. He couldn’t.

“Probably,” Dean said after a moment. When he realized that he couldn’t just lie in bed with Cas and look at embarrassing pictures all day. “I gotta pick up some people for the wedding tomorrow. Check in with Ellen about food, make sure she doesn’t let Gabriel do anything too ridiculous.”

Cas ran his hand down Dean’s arm, tapping the phone gently before twining their fingers together. “I believe Gabriel’s judgement has been sound so far.”

Dean smiled when he heard Cas’ phone vibrate. “It was a good party, right?”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed. “I assume Sam is now sending me pictures of my activities.”

“There better be one of you playing Never Have I Ever with Becky.” Dean rolled over on his back and pressed his shoulder into Cas’ chest. “That was hilarious.”

“We seem to have had divergent experiences.” Cas made no move to look at his phone, even when it vibrated again. “Jo told me to ask you something. ‘Does he really not care about the music,’ she said.

“At our wedding,” Castiel added, like it might not be clear.

“’Course I care about the music,” Dean said. “That’s why she’s picking it.”

Cas had let go of his hand and was now tracing his fingers across the muscles in Dean’s chest. One at a time, but systematically, like he was identifying each of them as he went. “You feel that Jo’s taste in music aligns with your own.”

Dean lifted the hand farthest from Cas and made a seesawing motion. “Close enough,” he said. “How am I supposed to pick, anyway? I don’t know what to play at a wedding. I mean, unless you want to – do you want to pick the music?”

“I don’t believe I’m well-suited to such an activity.” Cas’ phone vibrated again, and Dean wondered if someone was actually trying to get in touch with him. Who used that phone, anyway? Other than Sam? Anyone?

“You didn’t think you’d be any good at the party, either,” Dean reminded him. “And you were awesome.”

“The company was mixed,” Castiel said. “The standard for appropriate behavior was low.”

Dean laughed out loud, because that probably described every party he and Sam had ever been to. “Okay,” he said, still grinning. “Fine. Don’t take a compliment.”

Cas continued his exploration for several long minutes. Dean thought it might be worth it to just lie there and pretend he’d fallen back asleep. Until finally Castiel said, “I should go back to heaven. I’m wary of leaving Raphael alone for long.”

Dean sighed. It only sucked because it was true. “I don’t like leaving any of them alone,” he muttered.

The silence was less peaceful then. “Perhaps we should inquire after Zachariah,” Castiel said at last.

“Samael knows what she’s doing,” Dean said. Then he thought about that and changed his mind. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe we should.”

It was a part of his day he didn’t really want to give up, but it wasn’t the worst thing that happened. Partly because Samael really did know what she was doing, and for once, what she knew was exactly what they needed. And partly because Cas’ expression when Death himself interrupted their impromptu dance lesson, an hour before the wedding rehearsal was supposed to start, was one Dean never wanted to see again.

“One could wish,” Death said conversationally, “that you would pay more attention to my reapers.”

Cas tried to step forward but Dean saw it coming. He put out an arm to block Cas’ movement and Cas seemed surprised when it actually stopped him. “You don’t pay attention to your reapers,” Dean said.

Death smiled a little. It wasn’t a friendly expression. “No,” he said. “The correct answer is, ‘they’re my reapers now.’”

“But they’re not.” Probably not a great idea, arguing with Death. Wasn’t the first time. Wouldn’t be the last unless he lost. Dean was careful not to look at Cas. “You’ve been kidnapping them.”

He got a raised eyebrow for this. “So part of your stupidity is an act after all. How wonderful for you.”

“I’d like them back,” Dean said. The ring felt heavy on his right hand. Bargaining with Death was a dangerous game, no matter how lucky he’d gotten in the past.

“Good news,” Death said enigmatically. “They like you.”

He turned around and walked away, opening the door like anyone else. He didn’t pause to shut it, though, and it still closed behind him. Precise and a little bit distracted, the way Death always seemed. Like he was watching something far away – something much more important than anything in front of him could possibly be.

When Dean looked back at Cas, Tessa was standing behind him.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

Castiel spun, and it might have been fun to see him startled if Dean didn’t know how freaked out he was. Cas held his ground when he saw Tessa, but Dean knew he was pissed. Dean wasn’t sure who had taught Cas to act angry when he was afraid, but he had a bad feeling that someone close to him had led by example.

Someone really close to him.

“Your creation is back in balance,” Tessa said. “Congratulations.”

“The garden,” Dean said.

She nodded once, but it was Cas who held his attention. Some of the fake anger was turning to revelation. “You haven’t forgotten,” he murmured. “Because the garden has stopped growing.”

Dean frowned. It felt plenty alive to him. “What do you mean?”

“You yourself observed that my power is depleted,” Cas said. His tone was quiet, so that even if Tessa couldn’t help overhearing it was clear she wasn’t meant to. “Restoring heaven took what might otherwise have gone to the garden.”

“Yes,” Tessa said, ignoring the glare Castiel gave her for speaking. “That didn’t go over well, actually. You’re lucky you did it under the guise of Conquest, or Dean would be out a ring right now.”

“Wait,” Dean said. “You think he’s less dangerous as a horseman?”

“Death thinks you are,” Tessa said. “You’re welcome.”

Dean exchanged glances with Cas. He would have sworn he could feel a reaper move – at least one that close to him – but when he looked back, Tessa was gone. “Seriously?” he said aloud. “This is what we do now? Make cryptic statements and disappear?”

“Dean,” Cas said. He was still quiet, but it was more relief than caution. “Disappearing is hardly the worst she could have done.”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not afraid of Tessa.”

“You’re not afraid of many things you should be,” Cas told him, but he was smiling. Just a little, just enough that Dean’s irritation eased. Tessa was all right, after all. Death had come and gone and they were both still here. And hey, if Cas was right about the garden then maybe Dean didn’t have to worry about forgetting what they were doing this weekend.

“We were dancing,” Dean said abruptly. “We have like ten minutes before Sam starts harassing us about being ready, so. You wanna try again?”

Castiel sighed. “Are you certain this is a required part of the wedding?”

“Yes,” Dean said. “You can read my mind; how can you not know when to move your feet?”

“It’s less a matter of when and more a matter of where,” Castiel said, frowning.

It occurred to Dean that if Cas really was reading his mind, that might be part of the problem. “Don’t copy me,” he said. “My left foot forward is your right foot back. When my right foot goes back, your left foot goes forward. It’s like fighting only less fun.”

That made Cas smile again, and Dean decided that his entire purpose this weekend was to make Cas do that as often as possible. If he could make Cas smile more than he had in their shared hallucination, he’d consider it a win. Even if it was just because this one lasted longer – that was the same thing, right? It still counted.

Sam arrived on schedule. Probably. Dean wasn’t really paying attention, but when he checked his watch, it was later than he’d expected. “Anybody know what we’re doing?” he asked Sam.

“Quick run-through,” Sam said. “Where to line up, when to come in, that kind of thing. Ellen’s got her angel-friendly staff on dinner and it’s almost ready, so.”

“So it’ll be fast,” Dean said. “Great. Let’s go.”

The sky was overcast but the air was warm, and the lack of sun made it feel a little later than it was. Like an actual summer evening. There were folding chairs set up out back: nice ones, but normal-looking, with a single aisle down the middle and an elevated platform at the front. There was a big canopy set up with tables underneath, even though Dean was pretty sure they were eating inside tonight.

It all looked a little boring, if he was being honest. Which he wasn’t. It was supposed to be boring, right? This was just a thing that people did. They fell in love, they got married, they went on with their lives. It was about them, not the decorations or whatever.

“I believe Gabriel is planning to surprise you,” Castiel murmured in his ear. “This is not what it will look like tomorrow.”

“This is fine,” Dean said. “Nothing wrong with this.”

“You know what’s really scary?” Sam said, like he wasn’t listening at all. “Watching Gabriel and Ellen plan wedding decorations. They don’t even argue, they just try to… one-up each other. Everywhere.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, looking around at the simple backyard setup.

“It’s a rehearsal,” Sam told him. “You’re lucky Gabriel let us have an aisle tonight. I convinced her the hilarity of watching you walk down it would be worth the preview of what’s to come.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, glaring at him.

Sam just grinned. “Anytime.”

“Sometime today, boys!” Ellen yelled from the direction of the platform. She and Bobby and Jo were gathered there with Jophiel and Sach, while the kids went from one row of chairs to the other by climbing over the backs.

Someone at school must have taught them The Ground Is Lava, Dean thought.

“Aren’t we missing someone?” he asked, following Sam and Cas around the near edge of the chairs.

“She’s picking up our babysitter,” Sam said.

“If you invited Lucifer to the rehearsal dinner,” Dean began.

Sam just rolled his eyes, so hopefully it went without saying. Dean decided to roll the dice. “Becky?”

Sam shrugged. “Emily’s busy, and she likes the animals better than kids anyway. Charlie’s actually pretty good with her, but she’s out tonight.”

Excuses, Dean thought. Sam liked Becky these days. She’d probably been his first choice.

“Okay, listen up,” Ellen said. “We have half an hour. Dean, your family’s on the left. Castiel, yours is on the right. Are the kids gonna stand with you or sit down?”

Dean glanced at Cas, who just looked back at him. “Sit,” Dean said. It wasn’t like they were going to fill up an auditorium with their audience, anyway. The kids might as well get chairs.

“So they come in before the wedding party,” Ellen said. “You want them to come in single file, or pair up?”

That one he knew without looking at Cas, and he wondered if this was what Cas meant by his “visceral reaction.” Cas didn’t want them to walk alone. And yeah, Dean got that.

“Pairs,” Dean said aloud. “Maribel and Adamel? Wildfire walks with Jesse?”

Sam blinked at that. “Jesse?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Jesse. Whose side do we put ’em on?”

“First pair goes left, second goes right,” Ellen said. “That’ll put Wildfire with her parents, anyway.”

“Yeah, about that,” Sam said. “How serious are you about groomsmen with bridesmaids?”

Dean had no idea where he was going with that. “Considering one of the groomsmen is a woman?” he said. “I’m gonna say, not very.”

Bobby snorted, but he held up a hand in surrender when Sam looked at him. “I didn’t say nothin’.”

“I mean, do you want me to walk with Jo,” Sam said.

For a second, Dean was still lost. Why was Jo walking? When he looked at her, she had earbuds in and she was fussing with her phone. She waved, though, so she was obviously paying attention.

“If couples are to walk together,” Castiel said reluctantly, “Jophiel should walk with her partner.”

Dean’s eyes snapped to him. Right, Jo, of course. “Did you just call Sach her partner?”

Now they were all looking at him like he was the crazy one.

“Yes,” Castiel said.

“You’ve never said that before,” Dean told him. “Even when I specifically asked.”

Cas opened his mouth, but for once he just stopped. “No,” he said after a moment. “I suppose not.”

“Okay,” Sam said, glancing at Ellen. “So Jo and Sach will follow the kids in, and then me and Gabriel? Is that good?”

“No,” Bobby said. “Now you got two couples going right, one right after the other. You gotta alternate.”

“Sam, you and Gabriel go after the kids,” Ellen said. “The angels can follow you. Jo, are you cueing people with music?”

“Yeah.” Jo lifted her chin, but she didn’t take the earbuds out. “The procession is gonna be, um, ‘City On Our Knees.’” She was staring back at him, Dean realized. Like she was waiting for him to complain?

Dean shrugged, and Jo added, “It’s gonna go to ‘All You Did Was Save My Life’ for Dean and Castiel.”

No one said anything, and when Dean looked around, it wasn’t just her. They were all looking at him.

“What?” he demanded. “I don’t care.”

“Thank you, Jo,” Castiel said. “Those sound like excellent choices.”

Dean cleared his throat, shooting her a sideways look. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Thanks, Jo.”

“You haven’t even started yet?” Gabriel’s voice broke in with no small amount of mockery. “How long does it take a bunch of people to walk down an aisle?”

“Oh my gosh, can I watch?” Becky exclaimed.

“If they ever do it,” Gabriel said. “Why are we all still standing around?”

“Waiting on your sorry ass,” Ellen retorted. “Everyone inside. Kids!” she shouted, pointing toward the back door. “That means you!”

The kids were all standing there with them, suddenly, like they hadn’t covered the intervening distance at all. Even Jesse. He could fake flying when he wanted to, and apparently hanging out with angel kids made him want to. “What are we doing?” he asked.

“We’re just gonna do a run-through,” Sam told him, a hand already on Adamel’s shoulder. “We’re gonna go inside and pretend it’s tomorrow.”

Jesse looked around. “Gabriel said there would be more flowers.”

“Not you,” Gabriel was telling Becky. Pretending to ignore the rest of them, Dean guessed. “You go sit down. Sit across the aisle from the old man, there.”

“Watch who you’re calling old,” Bobby snapped.

“Dean likes flowers,” Sam agreed, putting his other hand on Jesse’s shoulder.

“Shut up,” Dean said.

“Inside!” Ellen pointed again. “You want dinner, you better get this show on the road!”

“First in, last out,” Sam said cheerfully, pulling the boys along with him in such a way that it forced Dean toward the door. “You too, Cas. Jo? Sach?”

Each of Cas’ friends had one of the girls with them. They all piled through the door in a group that was kind of a mess, but Sam seemed to know what was going on. He left the door open behind them and sorted the kids out. “Adamel,” he said. “You and Maribel are gonna go first, okay? When Jo changes the music, you’ll walk out like this. Gabe?”

“Yes?” Gabriel was sitting on one of the counters, banging her heels like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“Help me demonstrate,” Sam said. “C’mere.”

“Say please,” Gabriel countered.

“Please,” Sam said without hesitation.

Gabriel shrugged, sliding off the counter and pushing her way to Sam’s side.

“This is the music,” Jo was saying, after she disconnected her earbuds and cranked her phone up as loud as it would go. It wasn’t very loud, but Maribel nodded like she understood. “Mom’s gonna walk to the center of the platform when it starts, okay? So if you’re not sure, just wait for her and go when she does.”

“Okay,” Maribel said.

Dean leaned over and whispered to Castiel, “Why are we making the littlest kids go first?”

Cas turned his head just enough that he could whisper back without taking his eyes off of Maribel. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “Is that unusual?”

Dean shrugged, watching Sam try to explain that they should walk “calmly.” Not too slowly, not too quickly. Gabriel was rolling her eyes, reminding Sam that any of them could prompt the kids if they got off pace. To which Sam retorted that he couldn’t, so maybe she wanted to give the instructions.

“Okay, okay,” Dean said, raising his voice. “Break it up. Me and Cas are the only ones who get to fight today. Sam, how ’bout you and Gabriel go first? Then Jo and Sach can follow you, and the kids can follow them. That way everyone goes however fast you go.”

“Perfect,” Jo said. Before Sam could answer, she yelled, “Mom! We’re changing the order!”

“Unless I have to walk I don’t care!” Ellen yelled back.

“We’re starting the music!” Jo shouted. She pushed something on her phone and held it up, not that anyone except whoever was standing right next to her could hear it. “That’s your cue, Sam.”

Sam looked at Gabriel, who just clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m not hanging on your arm,” she said. “I’m the pretty one; I have to arrange my flowers.”

She wasn’t holding any flowers, and Dean couldn’t see Sam’s expression. But he took her arm without protest, waiting to move until she stepped forward with him. Dean debated mocking them, but he wanted to eat sometime today. Probably wasn’t worth it.

“Wait ’til they get to the aisle,” Jo was telling Sachiel. “Then you can start.”

“Will we be holding flowers?” Sachiel asked, smiling a little.

“I honestly have no idea,” Jo said. “Let’s go with yes.”

“Right,” Sachiel said. She actually poked Jophiel, telling her, “I think you’re the pretty one. So I’ll take your arm.”

“Should I walk as Gabriel did?” Jophiel asked.

“Yup.” Sachiel looked very pleased. “First you’re second to Michael and now you’re imitating Gabriel. This is a good week for you.”

“Okay, go,” Jo said. “Walk about the same speed, if you can.”

“Are we next?” Maribel wanted to know.

“You sure are,” Jo told her, smiling. “You’ll probably be holding flowers too, okay? So you’ll be holding them in front of your stomach, and Adamel’s going to put his arm through yours – yeah, just like that. That’s good.”

“Should we wait until Jophiel and Sachiel reach the aisle?” Adamel asked politely.

“Yes,” Jo said. “Yes, you should. Just walk how they walk, okay?”

“Okay,” Adamel agreed.

“What should we do when we get to the other end of the aisle?” Maribel asked.

“Just go sit down,” Jo told her.

“Next to Bobby,” Dean added, because he wasn’t sure they’d been listening while they were trying not to step on the ground. “Turn left at the end of the aisle and Bobby’ll show you where to sit.”

Maribel nodded, and then Jo was ushering her and Adamel through the door.

“Not sure you guys are gonna be able to go arm in arm,” Dean said, watching Jesse offer Wildfire his hand. She took it, looking much too small next to him. On the other hand, it wasn’t awkward to see them hand in hand, and it did leave her with a free hand for flowers if she wanted them.

“That’ll work,” he said, and Wildfire smiled up at him.

Surprised, Dean smiled back. “You guys turn right, okay? When you finish walking down the aisle, you’re gonna sit on the right side. Where Becky is tonight.”

“Okay,” Wildfire agreed.

“We know,” Jesse said.

Dean held up his hands, because a pre-teen antichrist was almost as cute as it was disturbing.

“You’re all set,” Jo said a moment later. “You’re the last ones before Dean and Castiel, so your music’s gonna end when you sit down. Go ahead,” she added, when Jesse just stared at her.

He did, making sure to keep his steps small enough for Wildfire to keep up. Dean watched them go until Jo turned to him and Cas. “So are you really okay with this music?” she asked. “I figured we could do some classic stuff while people are arriving, but you probably want to be able to hear yourselves think the rest of the time.”

“I requested the absence of Blue October,” Castiel added. “And Bruno Mars, but Jo assured me that was never an option.”

“No,” Jo said, giving him a sideways look. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Jo, it’s fine,” Dean told her. “Whatever you pick is great.”

“He does care,” Castiel remarked, out of nowhere. “I asked, as you requested. Dean said it’s because he cares that he put you in charge of the music.”

“Really?” Jo looked from one of them to the other, then shook her head. “I mean, yeah. Of course. So do you want it to be live? Because Gabriel says she can make live music happen.”

Dean shrugged. “It’s not a big deal,” he said.

“Yes,” Castiel corrected. “Live music would be preferable.”

“Nice,” Jo said with a grin. “This is gonna be the best wedding ever.”

Dean pointed at her. “Don’t make me so embarrassed I never speak to you again,” he warned her.

“You always talk to me,” Jo said. “Because I’m awesome. Here’s your music,” she added, before he could protest. “The kids are sitting down. Go.”

Dean actually didn’t recognize the song, but he was distracted by the realization that offering Cas his arm had just made him the girl. Woman. Whatever. He wondered if Gabriel had done that on purpose. Then he told himself he was being ridiculous; no one cared who was holding whose arm.

“Is the way we hold our arms important?” Castiel murmured.

“No,” Dean said, putting his free hand over the one on his arm. “You ready?”

“Dean.”

Right, because Cas was a walking lie detector now, and if Dean didn’t cut it out Cas wasn’t going to believe anything he said. “It’s really not,” he said. “I promise.”

Cas just nodded once. “Then I’m ready,” he said.

“Little faster, guys,” Jo said.

Dean took his hand off of Cas’ to give her the finger.

“Real mature, Dean,” Jo told him.

The walk wasn’t as excruciating as it could have been. It would probably be worse tomorrow, with whatever Gabriel was planning and however many people they’d managed to con into coming. They couldn’t really know enough people to fill those chairs, could they?

“Hey,” he said under his breath. “Are there any normal people coming to this wedding?”

They were turning down the aisle when Cas said, “Define normal.”

“People who don’t know you’re an angel,” Dean said.

“Yes,” Castiel said.

He should have asked for that guest list when he had the chance.

“Smile!” Ellen called from the platform. “This ain’t a funeral, boys. There’s gonna be people with cameras. You might as well look like you’re enjoying yourselves.”

“Are we enjoying ourselves?” Dean asked. This time he didn’t bother to keep his voice down.

“Given the absence of tedious subterfuge and violent destruction,” Castiel said, “I’d say the experience is more pleasant than our usual, yes.”

It made Dean laugh, and he felt the grip he had on Cas’ hand relax. “That’s a pretty low standard there, Cas.”

“Only when I’m not with you,” Castiel said.

Everyone had heard that, which was his own fault, but Dean had no idea what to do with it so he just kept talking. “Oh, so doing terrible stuff with me is better than doing good stuff with anyone else?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied.

He really should have seen that coming.

“I hope those aren’t your vows!” Jo called down the aisle after them.

“I hope you’re going to be invisible during the wedding!” Dean shouted back.

“I’m unclear on how that would help,” Castiel said. “You’d still be able to hear her.”

“Or you could just not talk!” Dean called. “That’s Cas’ suggestion.”

“It is not!” Jo yelled. “Castiel likes me!”

“Everyone shut up,” Ellen said, as they finally came to a halt in front of her on the platform. “Come up here, one on either side. Stand with your… whatevers.”

“You’ll have to stop holding hands,” Sam said helpfully.

“Shut up,” Dean said. He felt Cas’ arm slide out of his, but Dean caught his hand before he could let go. “It’s my wedding; I can do whatever I want.”

“We’re gathered here today,” Ellen said, “to witness the stubbornness of Dean Winchester and the sarcastic patience of Castiel. They’ll probably make each other very happy, and all the rest of us miserable. Who’s carrying the rings?”

Dean raised his eyebrows at Cas, who just pulled his ring off and offered it to Dean. “Jophiel has yours,” he said, when Dean didn’t take it.

“You got me a ring?” Dean blurted out. It was probably one of the dumbest things he could have said, because of course Cas had gotten him a ring. They were getting married, it was their wedding, he was going to need a ring. But Cas? Getting him a ring? Somehow he hadn’t connected the two in his mind until now.

Cas was looking at him strangely. “Wasn’t I supposed to?”

“Yeah,” Dean said quickly. He tried to remember what it had looked like in their shared vision, then he tried not to. They’d done the Iowa thing there before, not after, so he’d already had his ring by now. But Cas’ ring hadn’t glowed there. It wasn’t like it was real or anything.

“Make sure you give that to Sam before the ceremony,” Ellen said, when Dean finally remembered to take Cas’ ring. “We’re not going through this in front of a hundred witnesses.”

“I’m not sure I want Sam tempting Fate,” Dean muttered, wondering why a hundred people would care. Did he have to hand it over? “Can’t I just carry it?”

“Dude,” Sam objected. “I’m your best man. It’s my job to carry the ring.”

“Well, don’t wear it, okay?” Dean frowned at the ring, then at Sam, who was giving him the same look of indignant denial that he used whenever he was trying to pretend he wasn’t hiding a dog. “I’m serious, Sam.”

“Why would I wear Cas’ ring?” Sam demanded.

“Because it’s a magical ring, and you just would,” Dean snapped. “So don’t.”

Sam held out his hand. “I won’t, okay? I’m not going to go around wearing your fiancé’s wedding ring.”

Dean dropped it into his hand, and there was a flash of light the moment it touched Sam’s palm. Glitter rained down over his fingers, and Dean reached out to take it back. “Okay, yeah, I’m just gonna hang onto that,” he said.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, shoving it back at him. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Well?” Dean asked. He turned his frown on Cas, because who even knew what Fate had against Sam these days. There were just too many things to choose form. “Do I get my ring now, or what?”

“Do you want it now?” Castiel seemed uncertain for the first time, but Jophiel was already handing him something and Dean was definitely going to win this argument.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “’Til death do us part and all that, except not really. Gimme my ring.”

“Normally I’d ask that part,” Ellen said dryly. “Dean, do you, and Castiel, do you?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “A lot.” He held out his hand.

“I do,” Castiel said carefully. He slid a silver-white circle onto Dean’s finger, and Dean didn’t wonder what it was made of until it touched his skin. It echoed of something… unearthly.

“Cas,” he said, staring at it. “Is this from the moon?”

“Partly,” Cas admitted. “Do you like it?”

“It’s from the moon,” Dean repeated. Not just the moon, either. Cas wasn’t kidding about that.

“He likes it,” Sam said. “You’re never getting it back. We may have to skip this part of the ceremony entirely.”

“Sammy,” Dean said.

“Yeah, it’s from the moon,” Sam said. He’d been smiling ever since Dean said “moon” for the first time, so Dean figured he hadn’t known beforehand. “I got that.”

“This is awesome,” Dean told Cas. “You’re the best husband ever.”

“Not yet he isn’t,” Ellen said. “Tomorrow I’ll pronounce you husband and husband, but I suppose there’s nothing I can do to keep you from kissing each other now.”

There really wasn’t. Dean got to keep his ring, though, on the basis that Cas shouldn’t get to wear his if he didn’t. Cas didn’t have a problem with it, so everyone else could just shut up.

It was from the moon.

Ellen made them all practice filing out on their way to dinner, but there was food waiting at the end of it so it could have been worse. Plus he and Cas got to go first this time, so that was cool. The kids followed them, then the rest of the wedding party, and Bobby informed them that he was claiming next-in-line privileges as the father of the bride.

Ellen offered to be his aisle escort. Dean gave up on bitching as soon as he realized that complaining would mean he had to assign Cas bride duties. By process of elimination or something. Besides, Bobby and Ellen were talking and Sam wasn’t actively laughing at him, so maybe it was a small price to pay to keep the peace.

He should have known better. Jo toasted “the bride” three times during dinner alone. Sam was unreasonably interested in Dean’s opinion on bouquets. Becky wasn’t even joking when she asked whether or not he’d be throwing anything after the ceremony.

On the other hand, Maribel asked why they were calling him a bride when he obviously wasn’t, and that forced Sam to explain that they were stereotyping a gendered perspective on the wedding ceremony for the sole purpose of making fun of Dean. It sounded worse when he put it like that, and Dean smirked when Sam actually apologized to him.

“Don’t piss off the real women in the room,” Dean told him.

Sam didn’t make the mistake of looking at any of them. “Quit while you’re ahead, Dean.”

For once, he did. And when Rachel called for Cas less than an hour later, Jophiel volunteered to go in his place. It let them have dessert, anyway. Cas followed her once they were done, but Dean stuck around to hang out with the kids and harass everyone who was still working on the wedding. Which was literally everyone.

Gabriel had even put the kids to work by the time Cas came back. As soon as he arrived Sam told him to get Dean out of the way, and he didn’t try to be quiet about it. Cas seemed to take him at his word. It hadn’t occurred to Dean that they might not want help – Gabriel was taking the “surprise” part of the wedding very seriously, which should probably make him nervous – but Cas was perfectly willing to disappear them both when prompted.

Dean also hadn’t considered the possibility that Cas wouldn’t take them back to the house. Well, maybe he had expected heaven. That would have been practical, right? If there was any chance of the garrisons leaving them alone long enough for an actual honeymoon, the last thing they should do was try to stretch it.

They landed on a night-dark beach beneath familiar stars. It was definitely earth, and it was definitely theirs. It just wasn’t a place either of them had been recently.

“Wow, Cas,” Dean said. His voice sounded too loud even with the roll of the ocean so close. “Way to be romantic.”

“You’ve always thought so.” Cas looked away from the stars to stare at him instead, and Dean thought he did that every time. “I’m not immune to its appeal.”

Dean smiled. “I meant the timing, but yeah. The place too.”

“I think we should swim,” Castiel said, and Dean’s smile widened.

“Yeah,” Dean said. He thumbed the ring on his left hand to make sure it was still there. “We totally should.”

The night was awesome. The only problem with their island was the time zone, which meant they had to drag themselves out of bed when it was still dark to go get married. To fill the room with light, to check each other’s clothes, to steal kisses that might have lasted longer if they weren’t supposed to be somewhere else.

At a wedding, Dean reminded himself. Their own wedding.

Totally worth it.

Gabriel hadn’t been kidding about the flowers. The inside of the Roadhouse was overrun. It had nothing on the outside, plants and green things clinging every available surface, blossoms dripping from vines and collecting between leaves like they’d been growing there for years. There was a trellis at the end of the aisle, statuesque swords crossed to form the arch, and the platform at the other end had been turned into a vaguely royal-looking dais.

The canopy had transformed too: from canvas to translucent color, casting shadows like stained glass on the tables below. The chairs looked more solid – more comfortable, probably – and the aisle was better defined. Even the grass on the ground looked healthier.

Gabriel had turned the whole thing into reality based on a few half-formed pictures in Dean’s mind.

Dean turned away. He couldn’t watch the kids climb on the chairs again, safe and too serious and maybe happy, the girls in dresses he’d never seen before and the boys in bright colors to match. No one even bothered telling them to get down, because kids were allowed to do shit like that. He couldn’t look at the flowers and the light and know that they weren’t even worried about rain today. He couldn’t go back inside, because they’d want to know what he thought, and he really couldn’t talk to anyone right now.

All he could do was stare at the stupidly green grass and wonder how much of heaven could see this if they knew where to look.

“Dean?” Cas sounded too careful, concerned and trying not to show it. “Is there something missing?”

Dean shook his head. No. Yes, but no.

It was all exactly how Cas must have known he’d pictured it.

“Are you troubled?” Cas asked, more quietly.

Dean heard the door bang behind him. He shook his head again, because “no” might be a lie but he meant it. He could feel his eyes getting hot, and fuck if he was going to cry over his own damn wedding.

Cas didn’t say anything else, just stood there while people continued to move between the building and the canopy. No one tried to come over and talk to them, congratulate them maybe, so Dean figured Cas was doing some sort of creepy stare of doom whenever someone looked like they might. It was good. Cas had a lot of practice.

“This is… nice,” Dean managed at last. His voice was hoarse, and he tried to clear it but it just sounded worse when he muttered, “Mom would have liked it.”

He felt Cas’ dawning comprehension. “Of course,” he murmured. “It’s customary to have family with you on a day like this.”

“I do,” Dean said. He sounded bad, which sucked, because it was fine. Nothing anyone could do about it. “I’ve got family, Cas. I just – it just makes me think, you know? That’s all.”

“Of course,” Cas repeated. That wasn’t the sound of understanding, but he didn’t get confusion from Cas either. Just a strange sort of patience, combined with protectiveness. Cas would stand there with him all day, and if Dean asked he’d probably keep everyone else away through sheer force of will.

Dean took shameless advantage of it for another two minutes. Maybe more. If Cas was gonna let him stand there and get himself together, then Dean was gonna do it.

He saw Cas nod once and he figured Sam had shown up. Probably hovering behind him, making worried faces at Cas. “Sam there?” he said with a sigh.

Cas’ eyes flicked over his shoulder again. “Yes,” he said.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice said. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean reached out and put a hand on Cas’ arm, squeezing a little before he turned around. “This is real nice, Sammy.”

“Yeah?” Sam looked from him to Cas and back again. “We can change it. If you want something else, I mean, most of the guests aren’t here yet and we could –”

“Sam,” Dean interrupted. He stared at Sam until he stopped talking. “I mean it. This is nice.”

This time, Sam smiled. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, it is.”

“Dean believes your mother would approve,” Cas said from behind them.

He froze. He couldn’t even think, but afterwards he figured that was all right because Sam just smiled and said, “I’m glad.”

Dean managed to find enough words to say, “Tell Gabriel thanks.”

“Tell her yourself,” Sam said with a laugh. “She’s been working on it non-stop.” He said it like it was easy, like talking about it was just something they did.

Like weddings were a thing they could have.

“She didn’t do it for me,” Dean said. He didn’t dare look for Gabriel, because if he saw her he would see everything she’d lost. And that wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. But Gabriel did it anyway, so Dean could only assume she had someone to impress.

“You, Cas…” Sam shrugged. “Same thing, right?”

“You,” Dean said. “Not Cas. Not me. She’s doing this because it’s important to you.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s your wedding, Dean.”

“It’s your future,” Dean said.

“Whoa, hey, my ears are burning,” Gabriel interrupted. Her wings flared huge and restless behind her, but to human eyes she’d just appeared next to them without warning. Dean wondered when the “normal” guests were supposed to arrive.

“This looks like a truly adorable family reunion,” Gabriel was saying, “but I’d like you both married and out of my hair as soon as possible. Go find Ellen; she’ll tell you what to do.

“Sam,” she added. “I need your gigantic personality to placate the guests when I tell them to get out of the building. They’re in the way and they’re supposed to be outside anyway. We need to station someone at the door to redirect people.”

“I’m on it,” Sam agreed, heading for the back door.

“Not you!” Gabriel called after him. “Just clear the building. Put someone chatty on the door!”

“What,” she said, when she caught Dean looking at her. “Is Ellen invisible? Check her rooms; I think she and Jo were going to do each other’s hair or something.”

“Gabriel,” Dean said. “Thanks.”

“Whatever,” Gabriel said. “It’s not like I care. I’m just trying to get on Sam’s good side.”

Dean paused, but she was gone before he could answer. So he told Cas, “You know, I believed that until she said it.”

“Yes.” The fact that Cas didn’t need any more explanation than that meant Dean was probably right. “She seems to encourage existing beliefs in an effort to keep people from asking questions.”

“Because she has to tell the truth?” Dean frowned after her. “You think she’d answer if we asked, straight out?”

Cas considered this for a moment. “I think she already has,” he said at last.

Dean let out his breath in a huff that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess she did.”

They found Ellen in the kitchen. Of course. She told them that their job was to get out of the way, which was probably why Gabriel had sent them to her in the first place. The benefit of Sam clearing the main room, though, was that they could both hang out there without being seen by guests. Dean told anyone who asked that they were there to entertain the kids, which was only marginally true, but it kept them from being hustled away from the activity.

When the music started up outside, Dean went back into the kitchen. Jo hadn’t been kidding when she said “classic.” Someone out there was playing Zeppelin, and he wanted to see it.

Apparently the wedding party was supposed to show people to their seats. He watched Sam and Jophiel and even Jesse walking people down the aisle. He wondered who had the seating chart, and if Jesse had used some kind of special antichrist power to memorize it, or if someone was giving him instructions when Dean lost sight of him. He watched the canopy empty out as everyone who was helping started to take their seats. He watched Charlie shepherd the angel kids back toward the Roadhouse, and he felt Cas step up behind him.

“Hey,” Dean said without turning.

“Hello,” Castiel said, his voice quiet in Dean’s ear. They were both looking out the window now, Dean having been told in no uncertain terms to get out of the door or make a new one. The music was honest-to-god Metallica, and he was ready to give Jo stereo privileges in the car from now on.

“So we’re gonna get married,” Dean said.

“I believe that’s the goal, yes.” Cas sounded amused, and Dean would bet that he was smiling. He’d add that to his tally.

“Oh, hey,” Charlie said, glancing around as she got the door open. She looked like she was counting kids as they crossed the threshold. “Sam’s not back yet, but I gotta go sit down. Are you guys okay in here for a few minutes?”

Dean honestly wasn’t sure which of them she was asking – him and Cas, or the kids – but the kids probably wouldn’t answer if they weren’t sure. So he said, “Yeah, no problem.”

“Thank you,” Cas added, because somehow Cas had become the guy who remembered these things. Maybe it was all those conversational lessons with the kids.

“Sure,” Charlie said. She flashed them a grin before she ducked out. “Congratulations.”

Sachiel was next, and Jesse showed up a minute later. They helped answer kid questions while Dean tried not to freak out about the fact that he wasn’t freaking out. He was about to get married, right? He’d never thought it would happen. With anyone, let alone an angelic soldier from the lower ranks. He was pretty sure he should be in full crisis mode by now.

Gabriel came in from the front door, took one look at him, and rolled her eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking,” she said, “stop it. We don’t have time for Winchester drama.

“That includes Sam,” she added loudly, like Sam could actually hear her. Gabriel had stopped bitching about not being able to read his mind only to start talking like she could. Like she was magically communicating with him somehow. Dean hadn’t decided yet whether it was weird or stupid, but he wasn’t ruling out both.

Jophiel arrived just before Sam, her eyes seeking out Castiel. They nodded to each other, and Dean figured that was the library equivalent of “good luck.” Sam looked breathless when he closed the door behind him, but he grinned at everyone like he was the one getting married and it made Dean smile without meaning to.

“Okay,” Sam said. “Everyone’s here. Ellen’s ready. What about you guys?”

Dean looked at Cas, who nodded again. “We’re good,” Dean said.

“Still not a guy,” Gabriel muttered.

“Adamel?” Sam asked. “Maribel, Wildfire, Jesse? You ready to go? Why don’t you line up, okay; I’m gonna call Jo and tell her we’re ready. Gabriel?”

“You’re gonna call her?” Gabriel gave him a skeptical look.

“No drama,” Sam told her, and Dean blinked.

“Hey,” Sam said, already talking into his phone. “We’re good here. Whenever you’re ready.”

There was a pause, and he grinned again. “Got it,” Sam agreed. “We’re listening.”

Gabriel was holding flowers she hadn’t had before. They looked like the ones Jophiel had, though, so Dean assumed they were the right ones. The kids had different bouquets, which he thought was adorable but didn’t plan to share.

Sam cracked the door so they could hear the music better. Gabriel leaned against the wall on the other side of the door, crossing her arms like she wasn’t holding anything at all. “Congratulations,” she told the ceiling. “Or whatever.”

“Break a leg,” Sam said, smiling at them.

“Yeah, you too,” Dean said automatically. He watched Sam pull the door open the rest of the way, Gabriel push herself away from the wall like it was the hardest thing she had to do all day, and somehow they both stepped out on the same foot.

Sam’s hand slid through the crook of Gabriel’s elbow on the second step, and Dean heard him murmur, “You look nice,” as they walked away.

He kind of wished he could hear Gabriel’s answer, but Jo and Sach were standing in the doorway, waiting for Sam and Gabriel to reach the aisle. “Good luck,” Sach said over her shoulder, and Cas answered for them both.

“Thank you,” he said, adding, “for everything,” in a way that made Dean’s mind fill with falling and fear and the friends you didn’t know you had until they were standing up beside you.

“Anytime,” Sach told him.

She and Jo stepped through the doorway, and Maribel and Adamel took their place. They weren’t as smooth as the adults, which was the only convincingly kid-like thing they did: being less graceful in their human forms. Their wings fluttered around them in a way that made them look anxious until Cas stepped away from the window to put his hands on their shoulders. He knelt down, putting his arms around them, and Dean heard him whisper, “I love you.”

They wrapped tiny arms around him, and Dean wanted to look away but he couldn’t. He could feel the telltale prickle behind his eyelids and there was no way he was walking down the aisle with tears in his eyes. But he couldn’t stop watching. Wildfire had let go of Jesse’s hand to hug them all herself, and Dean wished he could have a picture of them doing that forever.

“It’s your turn,” Castiel said quietly, and he let go of the oldest children. Maribel and Adamel held each other’s hands this time, not locking arms the way the adults had, and they looked less nervous when they scooted out through the door.

Cas kept his arm around Wildfire as he stood, lifting her with him as easily as anything. Neither of them said anything, just watched Maribel and Adamel until they had almost reached the aisle. Dean could see Sam and Gabriel lined up on the left side of the dais, with Jophiel and Sachiel walking to the other side. He could see the back of Bobby’s head in the front row. There was a redhead across from him that looked suspiciously like Anna.

Dean should have looked at that seating chart himself, but it was too late now. Wildfire was leaving with Jesse. Cas was turning to him, and he had to stop looking for people he knew but he couldn’t. He hadn’t recognized anyone in the vision they’d had of their wedding day.

“Bobby,” Cas murmured. “Claire. Amelia. Chuck and Becky are behind them. Emily, Charlie. Lisa and Ben. Anna is opposite Bobby, with Aramel and Isithiel. Hanathel is behind them, and Katahdiel. Rachel is on the aisle.”

Dean closed his eyes, because yeah. He could see them.

“Thanks,” he muttered, and when he opened his eyes Cas was smiling at him again.

“Where are we going on our honeymoon?”

Dean took a deep breath, trying to smile back. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Soon, I hope.” Cas offered his arm to Dean, who stepped up to join him in the doorway. Everyone outside was already looking. They were mostly turned in their chairs to watch the wedding procession anyway, and the fading music probably tipped them off.

“Yeah,” Dean said under his breath. “Soon as we get through this.”

“You’ve never suffered from performance anxiety before,” Cas remarked. The opening chords rang out across the transformed space and this time Cas put his hand over Dean’s. “You looked at me as you walked in the room, like the Red Sea you split me open…”

“Funny,” Dean said, but when he stepped forward Cas was right beside him.

“You somehow knew these wings were stolen, all you did was save my life”

“Someone has to be,” Cas said, surprising him by continuing to talk as they headed – slowly – toward the aisle. “I’m told we’re supposed to smile. It’s not your usual expression, so I’m trying to help.”

“It’s working,” Dean told him. And it was. If people were going to take pictures, they might as well take pictures of the two of them talking instead of staring. “You smile less than me, though. I should be trying to make you laugh.”

“Just being with you is enough,” Cas said. It came out very deadpan.

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted,” Dean said.

Cas didn’t miss a beat. “They’re not mutually exclusive.”

“You pulled me out of that flatline, put the heartbeat back inside”

Dean squeezed Cas’ arm as they turned under the trellis. “Did you listen to this song before?” he asked, quieter now that they were closer to actual people. The audience could hear them as they walked. Assuming they were louder than the music.

“All you did was get me through, I owe every breath to you”

“No,” Castiel replied. “I head it yesterday, when Jo played it at the rehearsal. I like it,” he added, and the unsolicited opinion was enough to make Dean smile all by itself.

“Yeah, well,” Dean said. “That’s good enough for me.”

Jesse and Wildfire were taking their seats in the front row, and Ellen hadn’t been kidding. People actually were taking pictures. It wasn’t so hard to smile after all. Everything felt kind of weird, but that was probably because he was walking arm-in-arm with Cas while a lot of people stared at them.

It didn’t feel like a blur. He could hear every word of the music, except when Cas spoke, and he could make out faces and feel the unevenness of the ground beneath his feet. This was happening. It was really happening, and time was passing, and he could feel it.

He saw Jared’s aunt and uncle from school, and Tamara from Ellen’s cadre of hunting buddies, and he wondered what kind of small talk they’d managed as total strangers. He was walking down the human side of the aisle. It occurred to him that the angel side must have been even more awkward. Who fell for what, and when: not exactly casual conversation.

“You’re not smiling,” Castiel murmured.

Dean couldn’t help it. He laughed. “You stopped joking,” he said. “I got distracted by honeymoon plans.”

“If that’s true,” Cas said, “then I think your plans are bad.”

“That’s what you get for reading my mind,” Dean told him. “The mystery is gone, Cas.”

“I assure you,” Cas said, “I remain as baffled by your behavior today as I was when I first met you.”

“Ditto,” Dean said.

They were both smiling when they reached the end of the aisle.

“This story’s been told a million times, but it’s different when it’s your life”

They stepped up on the dais at the same time, but Dean let go of Cas’ hand because Ellen had lectured him about playing to the audience. Or letting the audience see them. One or the other.

“I won the lottery tonight”

The music was getting quieter, and he wondered what the normal members of their audience thought about it. Did people do that at weddings these days? Play regular songs while the couple walked down the aisle?

Ellen had a mic that she wasn’t using when she told them, “You’re still wearing your rings.”

Dean just stared at her until he saw Cas move out of the corner of his eye. Their rings. Right. They hadn’t taken them off and swapped them.

No one in the audience laughed as they traded rings, but it was possible they just didn’t know what was going on. Ellen smiled indulgently at them, and not in that “I’m going to kill you later” way, so that was something. Maybe they were allowed to screw up on their wedding day.

“Good morning,” Ellen said, and this time the mic was on. “We’re glad to see so many of you here. We’ve all come today to watch Dean and Castiel marry each other. I think I speak for everyone when I say that it’s about time.”

This did prompt a rustle of laughter. It was soft and quickly silenced, like the audience wasn’t sure it was allowed to participate. Dean would just as soon they made some noise, so he wasn’t standing in front of them like a museum exhibit, but maybe that was what people did at weddings. Stared at you like you were under glass.

“I’m going to do a brief reading,” Ellen was saying. “It’s from the Song of Songs, which you may also know as the Song of Solomon. I’ve been asked to do the reading in Latin – thank you for that, Castiel – so I hope you can forgive my pronunciation.”

Dean tried not to grin, but it was a lost cause. Ellen’s Latin was actually pretty good, but she didn’t usually have this kind of audience. He wasn’t going to complain: he knew which part Cas must have picked, and hearing it in Latin would mean fewer people understood it.

“Pone me ut signaculum super for tuum,” Ellen said, "ut signaculum super brachium tuum.”

She wasn’t bad at all, Dean thought. Those exorcisms were good for the accent.

“Quia fortis est ut mors dilectio, dura sicut infernus aemulatio,” she said. “Lampades ejus lampades ignis atque flammarum.”

Love burns like the fires of heaven, Dean thought. Not the best omen for the day, but he couldn’t argue with it. None of the angels reacted. It was just something humans had written down, after all. Not a prophecy.

Not if he could help it, anyway.

Heaven doesn’t burn like love, Castiel told him. Love burns like heaven.

And to Cas, that made all the difference. Dean wanted it to make the difference for him, too, but hey. He wasn’t exactly in the habit of describing love. Even in Latin.

Especially in Latin.

“Love is the light of heaven,” Ellen said, and Dean raised an eyebrow. She didn’t pause. “Don’t give me that look, Dean. We’re all here today because of love, and I figure you boys know a thing or two about heaven. So tell me that you’ll stand beside this man as long as it takes and I’ll believe you.”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said, when she was obviously waiting for him to answer. They hadn’t gone over this part. “I will.”

“Castiel,” Ellen said. “Will you stand up for him in the face of whatever comes?”

It was a ridiculous question after everything they’d been through, but Cas didn’t hesitate. “I will,” he said.

“Then if you want to turn and face each other, we’ll talk vows,” Ellen said with a smile.

Dean didn’t have to turn very far. He was good at staring at Cas, though. They had a lot of practice with that.

“I know I don’t need to tell you that marriage isn’t about promises,” Ellen said. “It’s about following through. It’s about getting up every morning and doing your best by someone else. It’s a choice you make every day. So, Dean –”

It was weird that this was what made him nervous. After everything else. Having to speak in front of everyone… to Cas, who he’d barely even introduced to most of them, because he was just there. He couldn’t remember when it hadn’t been a given that Cas would be wherever he was.

“Repeat after me,” Ellen prompted. “I, Dean, choose you, Castiel –”

“I, Dean, choose you, Castiel,” he repeated, and it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. Ellen must have dropped last names so it wouldn’t be so obvious that Cas didn’t have one. Dean thought it sounded fine.

“To have and to hold, from this day forward,” Ellen said.

“To have and to hold,” Dean said, watching Cas smile at him. “From this day forward.”

“For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer.”

“For better or for worse,” he repeated, smiling back. Had he told Cas he wanted traditional vows? He must have. Either that or Cas had read his mind again, which, honestly, he was starting to really like. “For richer or for poorer.”

“In sickness and in health,” Ellen said. “In joy and in sorrow.”

“In sickness and in health,” Dean agreed, fingers twitching as he reminded himself not to reach out. Damn Sam for making him self-conscious about the hand-holding, but maybe it was weird to start in the middle of his vows anyway. “In joy and in sorrow.”

“To love and to cherish for the rest of our days.”

Cas was reaching for him, and Dean caught his hand without hesitating again. He should have known Ellen would get around the whole “death do us part” thing. “To love and to cherish,” he said, squeezing the hand in his. “For the rest of our days.”

“This is my solemn vow,” Ellen said.

Dean didn’t take his eyes off of Cas’ face. “This is my solemn vow.”

There was a pause before Ellen continued, “Castiel, if you could repeat after me: I, Castiel, choose you, Dean…”

Castiel didn’t pause or trail off at the end. He just stopped, as though that was all there was to it. “I, Castiel, choose you, Dean.”

“To have and to hold,” Ellen said, and Cas walked through the rest of his vows with the same certainty and determination. Cas was, after all, the reason they were together – not just literally, but figuratively. Dean couldn’t imagine standing here today if Cas hadn’t pushed it.

The way he said, “This is my solemn vow,” made Dean think of wings in the darkness and everything Cas had done long before they’d known each other well enough to promise.

“And you got a couple of rings there, as a symbol of those vows,” Ellen said, not like she expected them to stop looking at each other. “You want to get those out?”

Dean had a panicked moment when he couldn’t remember which pocket he’d put the ring in, and it was a very long three and a half seconds. Cas looked amused, so Dean knew he hadn’t missed it. But Ellen just kept going.

“These rings are a reminder of your promise,” she told them. “Remember they’re not the promise itself, and they sure ain’t the follow through. Let wearing them remind you of how you mean to live.”

Ellen nodded to him, and Dean figured that was his cue. They probably should have spent longer on the rehearsal. Cas was just standing there, so Dean held up his ring and crooked a finger at him. Cas stepped into him instead of holding out his hand, and Dean grinned, fumbling their hands together anyway.

“I love you,” he whispered, and Cas must have figured out what they were doing because he looked down at their hands and let Dean slide the ring onto his finger. The way he had at the clam shack when they got engaged.

They probably could have practiced this part too.

“Now you put mine on me,” Dean murmured.

Cas took the hand Dean offered and managed to get his totally awesome ring on the right finger. “Should I say I love you?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet enough that maybe only Ellen heard him.

It made Dean laugh anyway. “Your call,” he said.

“I love you,” Cas replied, very seriously.

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled, and they were so close anyway that he could breathe into Cas’ hair without leaning much further than he already was. “I know you do.”

“That looks like how they mean to live to me,” Ellen announced. “So congratulations, boys, we’ve witnessed your vows and we’re gonna hold you to them. By the power vested in me by your families and the people gathered here today, I pronounce you husband and husband.”

Dean turned to smile at her, Cas’ hands still tangled with his between them and their heads almost touching. Thank you, he mouthed. She’d hit all the high points. They definitely owed her for this.

Ellen just rolled her eyes. “You can seal your vows with a kiss,” she said.

She didn’t have to tell them twice. No sooner had he turned his head than Cas was pressing in close, mouth on his, with an enthusiastic kiss that made Dean laugh at how inappropriate it was. He lifted a hand to Cas’ face and tried again, trying to convey a little more tender and a little less filled with lust.

We should have practiced this, Cas thought at him, and he let himself be guided.

Nah. Dean kissed the corner of his mouth once more before moving his hand to Cas’ shoulder and pulling away. We don’t need any practice.

Ellen’s mic was off for the moment it took her to interrupt. Quietly, and only after they’d stepped back, so maybe they hadn’t gone too overboard. “Cas wasn’t sure if you’d want to sign the papers now,” she said. “As part of the ceremony. You can wait until afterwards if you want.”

He failed at reading Cas’ expression but he got the gist. “Can we do it now?” he asked. “I’m good with that. What about you?”

Cas nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I’d like that.”

“Sam?” Ellen said.

Of course Sam had everything. He even knew where to set it so they could write halfway legibly, which meant that he’d practiced more than they had. Best little brother ever, Dean thought.

While they were signing, Ellen asked under her breath, “You want to be introduced before you walk back down the aisle? Married couple, happy couple, Mr. and Mr. Winchester?”

Dean stopped what he was doing and stared at the paper for a long moment.

Cas didn’t say anything either, until Dean looked up and their eyes met. “‘The married couple' will be fine,” Cas said, still watching him.

“We should have talked about this,” Dean said. Was it insulting to offer? Was it stupid not to?

Searching his expression, Cas just said, “We can do it after the ceremony.”

He had to. He had to at least get it out there. “Cas,” Dean said, and maybe his voice was a little rougher than usual but this was a weird time. “Name’s yours if you want it.”

“I do,” Castiel said quickly. “I want your name.”

“Done,” Ellen said. “Let’s go, boys, time’s wasting.”

It wasn’t until he was watching Cas sign that it occurred to him to wonder about the “State of Iowa” seal. They weren’t signing it in Iowa. He was pretty sure states had laws about that kind of thing. He opened his mouth without thinking, and Sam caught his eye just in time.

Sam shook his head, giving Cas a significant look. It’s fine, he mouthed.

Dean raised his eyebrows, but the message was clear enough.

Sam and Jophiel signed too before Ellen waved them all back into line. Sachiel had held Jo’s flowers for her, and when she handed them back Gabriel mimicked the action with her own flowers on the other side of Sam. Sam almost took them before he caught on, pulling a face that made Dean roll his eyes as he turned back to Cas.

“It’s my honor to present the newly married couple,” Ellen said, voice loud enough that Dean thought maybe she didn’t even need a mic. Maybe it just sounded that way to him when she said: “Mr. and Mr. Winchester.”

Sam lifted his hands, and as soon as he started clapping everyone else followed suit. Dean didn’t even hear the music at first, coming up underneath the sound of applause, but he felt Ellen’s hand on his shoulder. “That’s your cue, boys,” she said. “Congratulations.”

Cas’ elbow bumped against his arm. Dean looked down in surprise, then hooked his arm through Cas’ when he realized what was being offered. The music was very live, and he probably didn’t want to know how Gabriel had magicked it up. But someone started singing as soon as he and Cas stepped forward:

“If we gotta start somewhere, why not here? If we gotta start sometime, why not now?”

“Hey,” Dean said, giving him a gentle nudge. He didn’t think he could coordinate kissing while they walked, and with his luck this would be the one time that pushing Cas hard was actually effective. “Nice to meet you, Winchester.”

“Likewise,” Castiel replied, very serious. As though it made sense to him, as though he knew what it meant and he’d wanted this all along.

“They’re taking our picture again,” Dean said through the roughness in his throat. “I should say something funny.”

Cas smiled at that, but it was at least as much happiness as it was humor. “I don’t think you have to,” he said.

“Smile’s all I’m after,” Dean agreed. The grin on his face was probably way less dignified, but hey. It was one day. He was allowed.

“Tonight’s the night for the sinners and the saints”

He felt more than heard Gabriel prompting the children to get up and follow them. Just Wildfire, at first. She would take Jesse’s hand. It was still strange and bittersweet to hear Gabriel talking to the kids at all.

“Two worlds collide in a beautiful display: it’s all love tonight”

They turned left at the end of the aisle, away from the Roadhouse this time. Ellen had been very clear that they were getting at least some wedding pictures that didn’t have her bar in the background. They were supposed to meet the rest of the wedding party on the other side of the canopy.

It could have been chaos, but somehow the separation was just enough: the wedding party gathered, kids included, and the guests lined up for the buffet. Dean was fine with other people eating before him if it meant he had to talk to them less, and Cas had – correctly, to Dean’s surprise – observed that the less orderly the process of food distribution, the easier it would be for the angels to pass without comment.

A lot of people on heaven’s side of the aisle weren’t planning to eat anything. That was cool, they weren’t here to put on a show. The guests could take it or leave it as long as they didn’t outright antagonize each other, and so far, everyone seemed to be getting along okay.

Not because they had such stellar taste in friends, Dean thought. Mostly because everyone was too scared of someone else to ask too many questions. The hunters made sense. The angels made sense. But what the normal people were thinking, he really had no idea.

They were probably scared of Ellen.

“Okay, so,” Jo said, appearing at his side. “Just to warn you, we got you a cake.”

“What are you, the master of ceremonies?” Dean eyed her skeptically. “How did you get to be in charge of all the good stuff?”

“My charm and winning personality,” Jo told him. “You were supposed to be circulating, and I was going to rescue you. But you’re not, so you might as well come cut the cake.”

Dean considered this, found the logic sound, and looked around for Cas. “Hey!” he called, when he saw Cas – his new husband – on the other side of the buffet line. “Time for cake!”

Cas looked from him to the table and back again. “I understood we were expected to eat food that isn’t dessert first,” he said.

“That’s a lie,” Dean answered. “Come on over here.”

It wasn’t pie, but it was delicious. He and Cas got to be first in line for this, and Dean took full advantage. He could only imagine how many pictures there were now of the two of them feeding each other cake.

Sam must’ve taken fifty percent of them, he thought. The kid had gotten a digital camera from somewhere and he was pointing it at everything. Dean wouldn’t be surprised if they were watching home video of all this twenty years from now.

“You have two choices,” Sam said, still staring at his camera screen. He was grinning, so what he was seeing probably wasn’t anything Dean wanted to know about. “You can go around and talk to people at every table, or you can start dancing and give them something else to do.”

“Cas?” He was right there when Dean turned around, and Dean still said, “Sam says we can either –”

Cas didn’t even wait for him to finish. “Dancing.”

Dean tried not to smile, but it was a lost cause. “Dancing, huh?”

“It’s the lesser of my two weaknesses,” Cas said with a straight face.

It worked, because Dean laughed. “Cas, even the things you’re bad at, you’re good at.”

“I’ll tell Jo,” Sam offered.

Dean waved after him as he headed off, then rested his hand on Cas’ arm instead. “You know what song we’re dancing to?” he asked.

“Yes,” Cas admitted, after a moment’s hesitation. Before Dean could say anything else, he added, “I’m going to hold the information ransom for knowledge of our honeymoon destination.”

Dean grinned. “That’s a bad ransom, Cas. The song’s gonna start any minute.”

“So will the honeymoon,” Cas countered.

It wasn’t the worst argument. But it was the first chance he had to disappoint his husband, and Dean was suddenly reluctant to reveal the secret. What if it wasn’t cool to an angel? Cas liked weird, earthy things. He liked things that humans liked. But he’d seen a lot, and maybe this wouldn’t even mean anything to him.

“Dean,” Castiel said.

That was it, just his name, and every other time he’d said it reminded Dean that this was nothing compared to some of those. Husband or not, it was still Cas. It was still the Cas who knew everything Dean could do and agreed to marry him anyway.

“The Grand Canyon,” Dean blurted out. “You know I’ve never seen it? I thought it would be cool to go, uh… together.”

“Yes,” Castiel said without hesitation. “That sounds like an enjoyable journey.”

Dean eyed him suspiciously. “Yeah?”

Cas’ expression was happy and unconcerned, maybe amused by Dean’s doubt. “I’ve never seen it from the ground either,” he said. “And I’m… aware of what the trip represents to you. I can think of no better way to celebrate.”

A break. That was what it represented, what it had come to stand for in Dean’s mind. The time when they could step back, let go long enough to do something for themselves.

He’d always thought he’d be taking Sammy. Probably under protest, dragging him along because this was one of those things a person should see. A guy traveled all over the country, he should be able to say he’d been to the Grand Canyon.

But Sam had his own “to see” list now. Dean knew perfectly well Gabriel was working her way down it on their days off. And Dean should probably do something he wanted to do even if he couldn’t justify it as learning experience for his little brother.

“I want to go with you,” Dean said.

Cas nodded, but the music was fading and Jo’s voice came over the sound system before he could answer.

“Hey, everyone,” she said. “Dean and Cas have offered to get this party started with their first dance as a married couple. So you might want to gather around, take as many pictures as possible, and remember this song to embarrass them with later.”

Dean tried to frown, but he couldn’t. “I thought we decided no speeches,” he said. “Who let her make a speech?”

“The person who handed over the microphone,” Cas said.

“We gotta stop letting them do that,” Dean told him.

Cas held out his hand instead, and Dean smiled at the same courtesy he’d offered Cas when they were practicing the day before. Some things were just ingrained. For him, at least – Cas had to have consciously chosen the gesture.

It opened with a drum and a guitar, so right away Dean didn’t hate the music. He took Cas’ hand and let himself be guided in. “I hope you like this song,” Cas murmured.

“You pick it?” Dean asked, putting his other hand behind Cas’ back.

“No,” Cas said. He sounded uncertain, and Dean didn’t get it at first. “Jo asked me to ‘approve’ it.”

“Let’s go down to the fields tonight, where the grass grows round our knees”

It was folksy, maybe a little country-sounding. Gabriel’s band made everything upbeat. Dean wondered how it was usually played.

“Lay down in the silver light dripping through the trees, broken halo in my hand and distance in your eyes”

Cas squeezed his fingers, and that was when Dean knew. His body moved without thinking: the end of shuffling his feet and the beginning of a deliberate step into Cas’ body. Cas moved back the moment he moved forward, but that wasn’t what it was. The uncertainty wasn’t for the dancing. It was for the song.

Cas was worried about the song letting him down the same way Dean worried about their honeymoon plans.

“The past is gone, good luck, so long, cross ourselves and hope to fly”

“Hey,” Dean murmured in his ear. “It’s a good song.”

“No roadmaps, no signposts, no north star, no lifeboats…”

“Do you like it?” Castiel insisted.

“No cavalry coming in sight, but we’re all right”

“Yeah,” Dean said, letting Cas step forward in succession even though it meant giving up the lead. If Cas had some idea of where they were going, Dean would let him choose every time. “I do. You made a good call.”

“Let’s feel small in the world tonight beneath a giant sky”

The pressure on Cas’ last step was less, and Dean was ready to move forward again when Cas reverted to the basic box step. At least half the time. Unless Cas decided they needed to visit the other side of the tent.

Which they probably did, Dean thought with a sigh. Cas was beaming, and he might as well get as many pictures of this as possible. Plus, if Dean picked the direction, he got to lead.

“Forget for once who’s wrong or right, just let it all go by”

The other side of the tent wasn’t any better. Sam was there, for one thing, and he grinned at them over his camera. Dean tried not to catch anyone’s eye, but he couldn’t not-look at everyone and they were surrounded. There were moments in the midst of colored light and flowers when looking at Cas was the only realistic option.

“It’s not too late to believe that fate was always keeping us from harm”

There were more moments when looking at Cas was the only desirable option. Getting to hold him in front of everyone was rare and strange, but looking was easy. He looked, he breathed, and he ran his fingers over the trailing edge of Cas’ wing as subtly as he could.

“No voices to guide us, no angels beside us, no shaman, no mystical light”

Cas didn’t bother to whisper. He seemed to think it was normal to interrupt their first dance to ask, “When can we leave?”

Dean laughed out loud. “Congratulations, Cas,” he teased. “I think you got this human thing down.”

“No cavalry coming in sight, but we’re all right”

He could hear Cas smiling when he said, “I have a good teacher.”

“We’re all right”