Title: The Good Fight (Flight Club, Chapter 8 of 8)
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Cas; Sam, John, Bobby, Gabriel, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, Balthazar, Joshua, Death
Warnings: Cursing.
Word Count: 38,000 total
Summary: John abandons teenaged Sam and Dean in Sioux Falls for the school year, where our young hunters-to-be befriend a strange boy who claims he and his brothers are angels of the Lord. Well, he's got a pretty cool sword anyway. The plot thickens when young Sammy wonders why there are so many restless spooks in the neighborhood, leading the boys to decide that calling out for pizza and Death is a wicked awesome idea. Hijinks ensue.
Notes: This is a high school AU, but since I can never do these things correctly, angels are still angels. (And some of them are still dickbags.)
“That shit smells awful!” opined Gabriel.
“It's not supposed to be fragrant,” said Bobby. “Now, you go get me some myrrh.”
“I got it,” said Gabriel, who disappeared.
“I had never seen anyone recover so quickly from a wing clipping,” said Raphael grimly. The group has adjourned to Bobby's immediately after receiving the news about Michael. The old hunter had claimed that he had a spell that would prevent any and all other magical processes in the vicinity: a kind of neutron bomb for conjuration, although sadly none of the boys had understood the clever reference.
The angels who remained in Bobby's living room were subdued.
“You sure your brother … is dead?” Dean asked Castiel.
Castiel looked at him sadly. “I no longer hear his voice,” he said. He shook his head.
“I could never have imagined this,” said Balthazar.
“It's always those two,” said Raphael. “I think it's fated. We can't escape.”
“We can sure as hell make Lucy pay,” said Bobby.
“Cas, if you can't track Michael any more, can you see Lucifer?” asked Dean.
Castiel nodded. “He is near.”
“He came back here?” asked Balthazar.
“Yeah, makes sense,” said Bobby. “The book is here, or at least he thought it was. And his souls are here. Waiting.”
“I.... I'm overdue at home. I told Sammy I'd be back by now. Way before now,” said Dean.
“Your father will be there?” asked Castiel. There was a warning tone in his voice.
“It will be OK, Cas.”
“Perhaps...” said Balthazar, catching Raphael's eye. “Perhaps Castiel and I could escort you? Just to be … safe?”
Although Dean was never sure whether the angels wanted to protect him from Lucifer or from his father, he nodded. Balthazar touched him and Castiel, and suddenly, he was in his own house.
“Sammy! I'm sorry I'm late!” yelled Dean. He looked around.
“Has he gone to bed?” asked Balthazar.
“I.... I do not think he is here,” said Castiel.
“What? Sammy!' yelled Dean, throwing open the door to Sam's room. He ran inside, and then ran to his own room, and then the master bedroom. “Sammy!” he shouted.
All turned to the sound of a truck pulling up the driveway.
“Dad. It's my dad,” said Dean. “Shit! I know what happened.”
John opened the door, and immediately had Dean in his face. “Where is Sammy?” Dean demanded.
“Dean,” said Balthazar quietly.
“What do you mean?” asked John, the smell of alcohol on his breath. “Who the hell is this?” he added indicating Balthazar.
“You took Sam!” accused Dean.
“Where is Sam?” asked John.
“You said you were gonna take him, and you took him!” shouted Dean. He lunged forward, but found himself restrained by Castiel. “Cas! Lemme go.”
“Dean. It wasn't your father,” said Balthazar.
“Are you another fucking angel?” John asked Balthazar.
“Yes, I am Balthazar Malakhim, and I-” Balthazar stopped, caught John's sucker punch and deftly wrenched his arm around in back of him. “I don't care for fisticuffs.”
“Dean! It's our brother!” said Castiel.
Dean wrenched himself from Castiel's grasp. “You think Lucifer took him?” Dean asked. Castiel nodded. “Why?”
“Dean, what the fuck is going on? Tell me now!” said John as Balthazar released him.
“Hey you guys!” yelled Gabriel as he suddenly appeared in the middle of the living room.
“Good God, is that another one?” asked John.
“Gabriel! We think Lucifer took Sam,” said Castiel.
“I know! I know! He called Raph,” said Gabriel. “Bobby sent me to get you. Come on,” he said, touching Dean and Cas, and then with a rustle of wings the three were gone.
Balthazar shrugged and reached over to John. “This won't hurt. Much,” he said. And then in an instant John was reeling inside Bobby Singer's living room.
“Bobby! What the fuck is going on!”
But Bobby grabbed John by the shoulders and put a hand over his mouth, shaking his head. Keeping a grip on John's arm, he dragged him over to where several people were now hunched over a cell phone set to speaker.
“So, it's not a hostage situation, Lucifer?” asked Raphael. He looked up nervously at Bobby.
Bobby mouthed “keep talking” to Raphael, who nodded. Bobby went to where Gabriel was sitting by a desktop computer. He leaned over the angel to view the screen.
“Of course not!” came Lucifer's smooth voice from the other end. “How silly. The little human boy is just fine. Just fine! He's just tucked away. So we can talk!”
“Well, here we are, talking,” said Raphael. “Uh. What did you want to talk about tonight?”
“I'm using a book. I'm sure it's quite beyond your comprehension! Any of you.”
“Yes, I've always been slow,” said Raphael.
“But someone took it away and hid it from me! Probably that grubby hunter.”
“Oh,” said Raphael. “How rude.”
“Uppity humans. They cannot comprehend me, do you understand? I'm just doing what's best for them!”
“Yes, Lucifer.”
“What they've done to the planet! They're going to kill it, Raphael. They're going to choke it! That's why our Father put us here! To save it! To save them!”
“Yes, Lucifer, I see. So, how can I help you? How can we help you?”
“Oh, don't patronize me, Raphael.”
“I'm not patronizing. I am asking how I can help. In your mission.”
“Yes! Someone is blocking me. I need to go forward with my plan, but there's some kind of big, tacky human spell stopping me.”
“Oh. You know who is casting it, Lucifer? Because I bet I know,” said Raphael, who suddenly cast his dark eyes at John.
“No, who is it?”
“John Winchester,” said Raphael. “The human hunter. He's here. He hates angels. He hates us all.”
There was a pause. “John Winchester. Yes. I know him. I know him well.”
John looked puzzled.
“So, Lucifer?” said Raphael. “It is very, very important that no harm come to the Winchester boy. Is that clear? Very, very important you keep him alive. As, uh, a negotiating tactic.”
“Yes, yes, he's still breathing.”
Raphael looked up in horror, but then steeled himself and continued. “So, if we can contact John, that will help you.”
“Contact him? Put a sword through his neck.”
“That won't be easy,” said Raphael. “Hunters are wily!” He looked up, and Bobby, who was still at the computer monitor, was signaling thumbs up. “All right, Lucifer? We'll try to locate John, see where he's holed up, and we'll get back to you. OK?”
“Sooner. Rather than later,” warned Lucifer. And then the line went dead.
“What did he mean?” asked Raphael, looking up with tears in his eyes. “He said Sam was OK. And then....”
“Raph, you did good, so steady,” said Bobby.
“Where is Lucifer?” asked Castiel.
“Looks like he's at your place,” said Bobby.
“Then I will go kill him,” said Castiel, who had a sword out.
“I'm coming with you,” said John.
“No!” said Bobby.
“Bobby! We don't know how much time we have!” said Dean.
“We're not goin' anywhere without a plan!” insisted Bobby.
“I got a plan!” said Gabriel. “I'm gonna go clip his fucking wings!”
“He cannot stand up to all of us,” said Castiel.
“Maybe he can,” said Balthazar. “We don't know how many souls he's absorbed, Cassie.”
“Wait!” shouted Raphael. “Gabriel! What did you say just now?”
“I'll clip his fucking wings!” shouted Gabriel.
“Bobby,” said Raphael. “I think I have an idea. Using.... Using Lucifer's vanity.”
“Then it's a winner,” said Bobby. “What is it?”
John sat out on Bobby Singer’s porch, he and Bobby loading salt ammo into shotguns. Bobby had grunted for John to help him, and then that was all anyone had said to him since the phone call.
“Salt isn’t gonna do much fucking good against, angels,” said John.
“It’s especially not gonna do good against a crazy ass angel who’s just been snacking on souls.”
“You think Lucifer is crazy?” asked John.
“I think that goes without sayin’ at this point. But, yeah, I don't think he was ever wrapped up too tight. And Cas tells me there’s a ton of warnings on those spells that gobbling souls don’t do much for your disposition.”
“Castiel,” growled John. “You trust those angels?”
“Maybe more’n I trust you right now.”
“What the fuck, Bobby?” said John, laying down the gun. “You’ve been riding my ass since I came back! They took my boy! Do you need more proof?”
“Cas didn’t take your boy, and neither did any of the kids you saw tonight,” said Bobby, not looking up from his gun.
“You got nothing to say to me?”
“John. I got a fuckload to say to you. But we got work to do, and I ain’t currently got time to kick your fucking idjit ass in the manner it richly fucking deserves.” He stopped and glared at John. “You didn’t come to Sioux Falls ‘cause of me, and it sure wasn’t to keep your boys in school. You wanted in to that house on the hill, and you knew your boy Dean would find a way.”
“That’s not…” John sputtered.
“I don’t know if Lucifer had something to do with your wife or not. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. According to his brother, Raph, he’s had it in for humankind since the beginning of time. That’s a pretty big grudge. But you throwing those boys in the middle? Your boys?”
“I didn’t think it would go this far! Do you think I would have if I knew Sam would be in danger? If I know Dean was fucking stupid enough to start … sleeping with one of them?”
Bobby didn’t reply for a long moment, but went back to loading his gun. “John Winchester. You threw a teenage boy – and not just any boy, but your boy, Dean – in with a mob of the most beautiful and mysterious and glorious and just plain fucking intriguing critters in God’s creation, who also happen to be currently manifested as a bunch of hormone-addled human teenagers, and … what? You expected everybody to just keep their hands to themselves? That was one great fucking plan, John. One great. Fucking. Plan.”
John bit his lip. He decided to try another tack. “Bobby! Don’t you care who murdered Mary?”
“Like I said, this ain’t the time. But I’ll tell you something. At some point, you gotta decide whether you wanna be husband to a dead wife, or father to two live boys. Now, shut the fuck up and load your damn gun. Before I shoot you myself.”
Lucifer was bored.
Bored bored bored.
Really, shouldn't taking over the world be a bit more … fun?
The stupid human boy had left his Nintendo in their home. That was sort of fun, but you really needed an opponent to slay in these games. He considered for a moment going to grab the boy out of where he had stashed him, just for an hour or so of entertainment. But then he decided against it. The boy was stupid, and would probably try escaping or something ridiculous like that, and then Lucifer would have to chop of his feet, or something equally tiresome.
He had been planning this for so long. Since before they were exiled here. His Father probably thought this was a big joke, trapping Lucifer – glorious Lucifer – in the pathetic body of one of those naked monkeys. But Lucifer would have the last laugh. Once he had notice of what was to happen, he had only to place the wardings against the reapers, and then let nature take its course. And then, of course, locating the book. His Father had put them only a few miles from Bobby’s Singer’s library: how fortunate!
He looked up from his game when the front door opened. His brothers? Well, that was a little weird. Perhaps they were coming around to his side? But he doubted it. They were probably coming to plead for the human. Maybe he would have them go down on their knees! That would be amusing.
He was not prepared, however, for what he saw.
Raphael and Gabriel stood before him, in all their winged glory.
“My brothers,” said Lucifer, hitting pause on the Nintendo. “Why do you do me this honor?”
Raphael shook his soft brown wings. “Brother,” he said, bowing formally. “We have thought, long and hard about what you said. We realized,” he said, looking at Gabriel, who nodded and fluffed his own light-feathered wings, “that we are angelkind. We are not like them. We should always appear to them in our full glory.”
“Well, this is a pleasant change,” said Lucifer.
“But those guys weren't buying it!” warned Gabriel.
“Yes. Um,” said Raphael. “Unfortunately, our brothers, Balthazar and Castiel, have allied themselves with the humans.”
“And they're coming!' said Gabriel.
“They have.... They have a ridiculous plan to lay siege to us,” said Raphael. “I wouldn't take it too seriously.”
“Of course not,” said Lucifer.
“But we thought to meet them, you know, in our glory,” said Raphael, giving his wings a little flap. Some stray papers scudded off the coffee table.
The three looked up at the sound several vehicles pulling in the driveway. It wasn't hard to miss, as a couple of them had their stereos at full blast.
“They drove in cars? How adorable,” said Lucifer. “The internal combustion engine. You know, it will be first on my list for extinction. When we have our glorious day!”
“Yes, Lucifer,” said Raphael.
And then Lucifer ripped off his shirt, and unfurled his glorious, sandy-colored wings. He also drew his sword, as did Raphael and Gabriel. The three stood side by side as a ridiculously motley party of humans and angels stormed inside, carrying guns and swords: Bobby, John, Dean, Castiel and Balthazar, all yelling and making a commotion.
“You'll pay for this, Lucifer!” screamed Balthazar, who was at the front of the pack, waving his sword. He lunged at Lucifer, but Raphael got in front of him, and the two traded blows.
“This is cool,” said Lucifer, thinking it was too bad Balthazar hadn’t chosen to be winged. Angelic sword fights were way more awesome than Nintendo. “Isn't it, brother Gabriel? Gabriel?”
He looked to Gabriel.
Who wasn't there.
Lucifer screamed, going down in a spray of feathers and blood. He waved a hand, and suddenly, Gabriel was wrenched off his back and slammed against the wall, his angel sword flying from his hand. Dean dropped his gun and ran to him, feeling desperately for a pulse.
Lucifer was on his feet, staring, horrified, at his clipped wing.
“You idiots!” he shrieked. “You can clip me, but I'm still more powerful than all of you combined!” He waved his hand again, and Balthazar and Raphael, who had stopped their fake fight, went flying through the air.
Bobby and John both unloaded their shotguns at Lucifer, which only seemed to irritate him.
“Are you two stupid?” he asked. He gestured, and the guns flew to his hand, where he easily bent them like balloon animals.
John was charging Lucifer with some kind of dagger, which the angel easily flicked away, and then sent John crashing into a glass coffee table. “Dad!” yelled Dean.
“I liked that coffee table!” screamed Raphael, who this time tried a frontal attack on his brother. Lucifer flicked a hand, and Raphael was down again, his nose squirting blood.
“Now for the last time-” huffed Lucifer.
And then, quite suddenly, to the soft sound of beating wings, Lucifer disappeared.
“What the fuck?” asked Balthazar, who had just leapt to his feet.
“Where did he go?” asked Bobby, who was helping up John.
“Where is Cas?” asked Dean.
Lucifer looked down, amused.
Thanks to the perfidy of his idiot brothers, he was presently flightless. And he was being held suspended by his ankle over an active volcano by another idiot brother: the stupidest of the lot.
He had enough power to kill or cripple Cas, of course, thanks to the spirits within him. But, as he was flightless, then it would just be the both of them tumbling into hot lava that was bubbling below. Which really wouldn't do either of them much good.
Where did you find an active volcano if South Fucking Dakota?
Well, all things considered, not the worst spot he'd ever gotten himself into.
“Castiel-”
“Where is Sam?”
Lucifer sighed, a great heaving upside-down sigh. This would be difficult. But really, not unworkable. He looked up to his brother, great dark wings arched, blue eyes blazing. Our own little angel of vengeance. How terribly cute. Lucifer cleared his mind by imagining swatting the little bastard with a giant fly swatter. Until he was just a little lump of Castiel goo.
“I was talking to Joshua about you. Do you know what he said about you?”
“Where is Sam?”
“Joshua said you might end up the most powerful of the lot of us. What do you think of that?”
As if in reply, Castiel swooped lower, closer to the magma, nearly frying off Lucifer's hair.
“Watch it!” warned Lucifer.
“Where is Sam?”
“Castiel, for once in your life, think. Our brothers, they're worthless! I mean, when Michael clobbered you the other day, did a single one rise up for you?”
“Where. Is. Sam.”
“They'd rather just sit and bitch. But you and me? We're different from them.”
“Lucifer. Where THE FUCK is Sam?”
“We get things done! We stand up for what we believe!”
“I am growing impatient, Lucifer.”
Lucifer looked up. Not a brain in this one's head. “Look, what if we do this? When we get back, no more Michael.”
“No. You killed him. Where is Sam? HE HAD BETTER NOT BE HARMED.”
“Sam is fine.”
“Where is he?”
“Once we get back, it will be you and me in charge! We are obviously the leaders, aren't we? Now, I know you must disagree with some of my methods, but I believe we can all arrive at the same place.”
“We are not in the same place. We will never be in the same place. Where is Sam?”
“Will you lay off perseverating about that miserable little human and listen to me?”
“Tell me where Sam is, and I will let you go,” promised Castiel.
Lucifer frowned. Well, it wasn't a great deal, but his hair was smoking. “I put him in that stupid cloister. Where you idiots dug up the saints bones. Now. Let me go.”
Castiel smiled. But it was not a nice smile.
“As you wish,” he said.
Lucifer barely had time to scream.
“The convent. He's in the convent,” said Castiel.
“I’m on it!” said Gabriel. And he was gone. He returned in an instant, Sam in his arms.
“Sammy,” said John.
“You OK, kiddo?” asked Bobby, as Gabriel carefully set him to his feet. Sam looked grubby but unharmed.
“Uncle Bobby!” yelled Sam, who rushed to Bobby's arms, burying his face in Bobby’s chest.
“You're OK, Sammy,” grinned Bobby. “You're OK.”
“I wasn't scared,” sobbed Sam.
“I know you weren't. Come on, kid,” he said, lowering himself to his knees so he could look Sam in the eye. “We'll take you to a doc now and get you checked out. All right?”
A weeping Sam nodded and Bobby caught his hand and led him out.
John Winchester stood behind, looking like someone had just driven a stake through his heart.
“Dad,” said Dean. He nodded at the older Winchester, and John meekly followed Sam and Bobby out the door.
Dean paused one moment by Castiel. He held his shoulder and mouthed, “Thanks.” And then he was out the door too.
“Castiel,” said Raphael, who was nursing what looked like a broken nose. “What happened to Lucifer?”
Castiel glared and gave his dark wings a flap. “I have returned him to our father,” he said.
“Are you wings smoking?” asked Balthazar.
Castiel shook out his wings. “Volcano,” he said.
“No fucking shit? You dumped Lucy in a volcano?” asked Gabriel, who was sitting propped up on a couch.
“Yes. I dumped Lucy in a volcano,” said Castiel.
“I wish...” said Raphael. “I wish I could have seen the look on the motherfucker's face.”
“Just for the record, none of us are going to chide Castiel for killing our brother?” asked Balthazar.
“Oh, fuck no!” said Gabriel.
“Murdering bastard deserved it,” grumbled Raphael. “He is always like this. You give him every chance in the world. And it always happens.”
“Well,” said Balthazar. “Well, I think we should note that Castiel is clearly fledged.”
“Oh, yeah, congrats dude!” said Gabriel. He put up his hand for what Castiel now recognized was a high five.
Castiel smiled slightly, and slapped Gabriel's hand. But then the tears came, and three angels, his brothers, gathered around him.
Dean awoke, alone in his bed.
It was a big bed. Well, a bigger bed. He and his dad had gone to get it, with not much comment from John other than to stay the hell out of the master bedroom from now on.
It had been part of a small bout of their father’s generosity. Sam had gotten a battered but nicely rebuilt laptop and way too many video games. John said it was near enough to Christmas. Both Dean and Sammy had told John that what they really wanted was for him to stick around this year, though he was kind of quiet about that. He had kind of vaguely promised to be around more often, but Dean could feel he was itching to take off again. Sammy would take it hard, Dean thought, but he was getting used to it.
The door opened quietly, and Cas crept in, clutching a bowl of … something. As it turned out, the fledging thing did make him hornier, but he also remained hungrier than usual. Balthazar had opined that he was using a lot of grace somehow, but wasn’t certain how it worked.
“Oh, did you want some ice cream?” Cas asked politely as he hopped back on the bed.
Dean pulled closer. “I want you to finish your damn ice cream and then get back out of those pants,” he said, indicating the jeans Cas had pulled on to make the kitchen raid.
“Sure,” said Cas agreeably, mouthing ice cream.
Dean lay on his back, watching his friend. He hadn't seen him for what seemed like forever, except for a few quick conversations at school. It had been just a few days, but all of the Malakhim brothers had grown very quiet and withdrawn for a time. He wasn't completely surprised when Sam caught the newspaper article about two local boys perishing in a small plane crash. Michael had been learning to fly a small airplane, and crashed into a mountain. Maybe a bit of a joke on their part, though a grim one.
Dean had been surprised when Cas had called today about coming over. There had been so many things Dean wanted to say to him, but then one thing had led to another, and they hadn't spent a whole lot of time talking.
“So, you’re fledged, right?” Dean finally asked. Cas nodded, a bit of ice cream running down his chin. Dean grinned and reached over and wiped it off with two fingers. “So if you wanted to, you could just zap out of here and zap back with ice cream?”
“I suppose so,” said Castiel.
“Or just zap it into your hand. I mean, like Gabe does?”
Castiel considered. “It seems wasteful, doesn’t it? All that zapping?” He looked at Dean for a time, even pausing in his eating. “What was it you really wanted to ask?” he said.
“Cas. You.... You dunked your brother in a volcano? I mean, like the Lord of the Rings?” asked Dean.
“I.... I understand that reference!” said Castiel, wonder in his eyes. He had spent rather a lot of time in the library these past few years.
“Heh. Probably not, actually,” said Dean, leaning back. “I was thinking of the movie version.”
“Oh. Sam is OK?” asked Cas, artfully changing the subject.
“He's fine! He was just a little shaken up. He was asking about you, though.”
Castiel nodded.
“You're gonna start walking him home again? He's got a new Nintendo game. A couple of them. Dad is kind of spoiling him.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that, Dean. What you father said?”
“About...?”
Castiel breathed out. “About going away with him.”
“Look, you don't have to worry, I'm not gonna do that! And your brother Raphael said....”
“I think you should seriously consider doing it,” said Castiel, who was now just poking at his ice cream.
“Why the hell should we do that?” asked Dean, suddenly sitting bolt upright.
“Dean, think! What if something had happened to Sam? I could not forgive myself.”
“What? You didn't take him.”
“My brother did! My brother tried to hurt you! Do you know how powerful we are? How dangerous?” Cas was glaring at him.
Dean felt like he'd been slapped. He couldn't believe he was hearing this.
“It might be safer for your family-” Cas started.
Dean took a breath. He wound up. “OK, Cas, you know something? Stop right there! And right now! Because you know what? You're a fucking rerun. I've heard this same fucking story my whole life. From my dad. 'You stay back here, Dean, you'll get hurt.' Well, fuck that! I am sick and tired as fuck of being dumped! You got me! You're stuck with me! And.... And I'm a hunter, so even if you try and run away, I'll fucking hunt you down! You'll never, ever get rid of me! You hear?”
Castiel paused, obviously only a fraction of the way through a well-prepared speech. There were tears in his eyes. “I didn't really want you to go,” he whispered. “But I thought I should....”
“OK, it's settled, it's done, and we never mention it again!” announced Dean.
“Well...” Castiel started to say, but then Dean was shutting him up definitively with a kiss. Dean grabbed the bowl and set it down on the floor.
Cas leaned over and grabbed the bowl back. “I just have a little more in the bottom!”
“You’re still hungry, huh?” asked Dean, who was already fiddling with Cas' pants.
“Uh-huh. Joshua says I’m going to be powerful.”
“Wait. Joshua?” asked Dean, who was suddenly distracted again. “You mean your older brother, Joshua?”
“He was just talking to me in my dream. We can visit each other in our dreams. Had I told you that?”
“More weird angel stuff? OK,” said Dean. “So, what else did Joshua say?”
“Well,” said Castiel, considering the dregs of his ice cream. “He agrees with you, that I should keep you guys as my friends. He says my weaknesses will be my strengths. I didn’t know what that meant, it sounded like something weird Balthazar would say.”
“Huh,” said Dean. It did sound weird. Maybe Sammy or Bobby would know?
“I asked if he was going to come back. You know, since Michael and Lucifer are gone? Raphael doesn’t really wanna lead the family, you know. He wants to write depressing poetry. But Joshua said we’re going to have a sign. From our Father.”
“A sign? What kind of sign?” asked Dean.
“No clue,” said Castiel. “Do I look like a prophet?”
“You look … like an angel,” said Dean, who moved in to kiss him as Castiel very carefully held the bowl upright. “But you taste like Rocky Road.”
“This is really good!” said Castiel, pointing to the bowl. “Would you mind if I had just one more bowl?”
“Cas!”
Then Castiel’s cell phone rang.
“Whatever it is, ignore it!” pleaded Dean as Cas wriggled over to answer it. Cas listened in silence for a long moment.
“Dean,” said Castiel.
“WHAT?”
“I think we have the sign.”
“Weird to think I just shot the little bastard the other day!” grinned Bobby, who was hefting a very cute, sandy-haired baby. “Are you a cute little devil? Yes you are!” he laughed as the infant cooed.
They were all standing around the Haunted Mansion: three angels who resembled teenage boys, three humans, and two gurgling infants.
“So these could be my little brothers?” asked Sam, who was rubbing the tummy of the dark-haired kid that a stunned looking Raphael was holding.
Dean and Castiel looked at each other. “Uh. Well, sort of. I guess,” said Dean.
“I’ll show them how to play Nintendo!” promised Sam.
“Can't we give them away to gypsies?” whined Gabriel.
“Naw, I don’t think so,” said Bobby.
“What about the fairies?” prompted Gabriel. “I bet the fairies would take ‘em!”
“Take your little brothers?” laughed Bobby. “I think fairies are little smarter than that.”
“Shit,” said Gabriel.
“Raph,” said Bobby, “what you guys used to do, you used to get nannies and a lot of help from the town. You want me to take some calls?”
Raphael, who was looking drawn and utterly confused, nodded. “I will need a babysitter. As I have … a date?”
“With who?” asked Dean immediately.
“Um,” said Raphael. “A girl who came to my poetry reading? Denise Hess....”
“Not Denise Hesselbacher?” asked Dean.
Raphael leaned over towards Dean, being careful to shield the baby's ears. “She smells like vanilla!' he whispered.
“A redhead!' laughed Dean. “Good going, dude.”
Raphael nodded, and bounced the baby.
“This is crazy,” said Dean. “So this is the message from your dad?” he asked Castiel, who shrugged.
“The messenger is still here,” offered Raphael.
“Oh, yeah!” chuckled Bobby. “You kids gotta meet the guy.”
Dean and Cas looked at each other. “Where is he?” asked Castiel.
“Out in back,” said Raphael. “Smoking. With Balthazar.”
Dean and Castiel proceeded to one of the mansion’s back yard patios. Indeed, Balthazar was out smoking with a winged angel. The guy was a skinny bastard, even skinnier than Castiel. He looked over from where he was chatting with Balthazar and asked. “What’s this? More brothers? Wait, you aren’t an angel.”
“Uh, no, I’m not,” admitted Dean. “I’m Cas’ friend.”
The angel got up and extended a hand, keeping his cigarette away. He had odd, shiny wings, and shiny eyes as well. “Sorry, my boyfriend won’t let me smoke, so I bummed a Marlboro from Balthy.”
“So, you’re a heavenly messenger?” asked Dean.
The angel grinned and blew smoke. “Yeah, I’m a heavenly fucking messenger. What do you want, kid?”
“Well, how ‘bout a message?” said Dean. Castiel nodded.
The guy shook his wings a bit, as if this amused him. “Yeah, I got a message. ‘This time, don’t fuck it up.’”
“Wait, that’s what He said?” asked Dean.
“I’m paraphrasing. Now, me, I might steer clear of calling the little guy Lucifer this time. Maybe that’s your problem. Call him Stanley or something,” suggested the angel, shaking out his wings.
“The angel, Stanley?” asked Dean.
“I am Stanley, angel of the Lord,” tried Castiel.
“Works for me,” said the angel. “Now, I gotta wing. Thanks for the smoke, buddy,” he told Balthazar. And, with a soft rustling sound, he was gone.
“Angels are different from what I thought,” said Dean as Raphael emerged, still holding the infant version of Michael. The rest of the household wandered out behind them.
“What were we supposed to be like?” asked Castiel.
“Well. I pictured more harps.”
The baby Michael squirmed in Raphael’s arms, holding its chubby little arms towards Dean. “Oh, uh, me?” Dean asked. Raphael shrugged and handed Michael over to a very uncomfortable Dean. “So, uh,” Dean told him. “Sorry about the whole dying thing, Mike. That must’ve sucked.”
The baby gabbled and then slumped into Dean’s chest, drooling and emitting a soft baby snore.
“Aw!” said Balthazar, who dabbed at the infant's chin with the small towel he had thrown over a shoulder. “You’re a natural.”
“Hey, it likes me!” said Dean. “So, cool. Hey, little guy. We’ll teach you how to do an oil change. And how not to be a dick!”
Bobby laughed. “Might be a couple more things he needs, Dean.”
“Like what?” asked Dean. Lucifer, or was it Stanley, still in Bobby's arms, let out a burp.
“How to order pizza?” suggested Sam.
“I’m hungry,” said Castiel, rubbing his stomach.
“You’re always hungry,” groused Gabriel. “Maybe we can trade you to the gypsies.”
“Gabriel, you are … a fart knocker!” Castiel told him.
“Dick wings!” said Gabriel.
“Cherub breath!” countered Castiel.
“And that’s how you get along with your brothers,” Dean told the baby, giving it a little smooch on the top of the head. Babies were kind of cool. And they smelled nice.
But baby Michael was asleep. Dreaming sweet dreams. Of pizza and oil changes to come.
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Cas; Sam, John, Bobby, Gabriel, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, Balthazar, Joshua, Death
Warnings: Cursing.
Word Count: 38,000 total
Summary: John abandons teenaged Sam and Dean in Sioux Falls for the school year, where our young hunters-to-be befriend a strange boy who claims he and his brothers are angels of the Lord. Well, he's got a pretty cool sword anyway. The plot thickens when young Sammy wonders why there are so many restless spooks in the neighborhood, leading the boys to decide that calling out for pizza and Death is a wicked awesome idea. Hijinks ensue.
Notes: This is a high school AU, but since I can never do these things correctly, angels are still angels. (And some of them are still dickbags.)
“That shit smells awful!” opined Gabriel.
“It's not supposed to be fragrant,” said Bobby. “Now, you go get me some myrrh.”
“I got it,” said Gabriel, who disappeared.
“I had never seen anyone recover so quickly from a wing clipping,” said Raphael grimly. The group has adjourned to Bobby's immediately after receiving the news about Michael. The old hunter had claimed that he had a spell that would prevent any and all other magical processes in the vicinity: a kind of neutron bomb for conjuration, although sadly none of the boys had understood the clever reference.
The angels who remained in Bobby's living room were subdued.
“You sure your brother … is dead?” Dean asked Castiel.
Castiel looked at him sadly. “I no longer hear his voice,” he said. He shook his head.
“I could never have imagined this,” said Balthazar.
“It's always those two,” said Raphael. “I think it's fated. We can't escape.”
“We can sure as hell make Lucy pay,” said Bobby.
“Cas, if you can't track Michael any more, can you see Lucifer?” asked Dean.
Castiel nodded. “He is near.”
“He came back here?” asked Balthazar.
“Yeah, makes sense,” said Bobby. “The book is here, or at least he thought it was. And his souls are here. Waiting.”
“I.... I'm overdue at home. I told Sammy I'd be back by now. Way before now,” said Dean.
“Your father will be there?” asked Castiel. There was a warning tone in his voice.
“It will be OK, Cas.”
“Perhaps...” said Balthazar, catching Raphael's eye. “Perhaps Castiel and I could escort you? Just to be … safe?”
Although Dean was never sure whether the angels wanted to protect him from Lucifer or from his father, he nodded. Balthazar touched him and Castiel, and suddenly, he was in his own house.
“Sammy! I'm sorry I'm late!” yelled Dean. He looked around.
“Has he gone to bed?” asked Balthazar.
“I.... I do not think he is here,” said Castiel.
“What? Sammy!' yelled Dean, throwing open the door to Sam's room. He ran inside, and then ran to his own room, and then the master bedroom. “Sammy!” he shouted.
All turned to the sound of a truck pulling up the driveway.
“Dad. It's my dad,” said Dean. “Shit! I know what happened.”
John opened the door, and immediately had Dean in his face. “Where is Sammy?” Dean demanded.
“Dean,” said Balthazar quietly.
“What do you mean?” asked John, the smell of alcohol on his breath. “Who the hell is this?” he added indicating Balthazar.
“You took Sam!” accused Dean.
“Where is Sam?” asked John.
“You said you were gonna take him, and you took him!” shouted Dean. He lunged forward, but found himself restrained by Castiel. “Cas! Lemme go.”
“Dean. It wasn't your father,” said Balthazar.
“Are you another fucking angel?” John asked Balthazar.
“Yes, I am Balthazar Malakhim, and I-” Balthazar stopped, caught John's sucker punch and deftly wrenched his arm around in back of him. “I don't care for fisticuffs.”
“Dean! It's our brother!” said Castiel.
Dean wrenched himself from Castiel's grasp. “You think Lucifer took him?” Dean asked. Castiel nodded. “Why?”
“Dean, what the fuck is going on? Tell me now!” said John as Balthazar released him.
“Hey you guys!” yelled Gabriel as he suddenly appeared in the middle of the living room.
“Good God, is that another one?” asked John.
“Gabriel! We think Lucifer took Sam,” said Castiel.
“I know! I know! He called Raph,” said Gabriel. “Bobby sent me to get you. Come on,” he said, touching Dean and Cas, and then with a rustle of wings the three were gone.
Balthazar shrugged and reached over to John. “This won't hurt. Much,” he said. And then in an instant John was reeling inside Bobby Singer's living room.
“Bobby! What the fuck is going on!”
But Bobby grabbed John by the shoulders and put a hand over his mouth, shaking his head. Keeping a grip on John's arm, he dragged him over to where several people were now hunched over a cell phone set to speaker.
“So, it's not a hostage situation, Lucifer?” asked Raphael. He looked up nervously at Bobby.
Bobby mouthed “keep talking” to Raphael, who nodded. Bobby went to where Gabriel was sitting by a desktop computer. He leaned over the angel to view the screen.
“Of course not!” came Lucifer's smooth voice from the other end. “How silly. The little human boy is just fine. Just fine! He's just tucked away. So we can talk!”
“Well, here we are, talking,” said Raphael. “Uh. What did you want to talk about tonight?”
“I'm using a book. I'm sure it's quite beyond your comprehension! Any of you.”
“Yes, I've always been slow,” said Raphael.
“But someone took it away and hid it from me! Probably that grubby hunter.”
“Oh,” said Raphael. “How rude.”
“Uppity humans. They cannot comprehend me, do you understand? I'm just doing what's best for them!”
“Yes, Lucifer.”
“What they've done to the planet! They're going to kill it, Raphael. They're going to choke it! That's why our Father put us here! To save it! To save them!”
“Yes, Lucifer, I see. So, how can I help you? How can we help you?”
“Oh, don't patronize me, Raphael.”
“I'm not patronizing. I am asking how I can help. In your mission.”
“Yes! Someone is blocking me. I need to go forward with my plan, but there's some kind of big, tacky human spell stopping me.”
“Oh. You know who is casting it, Lucifer? Because I bet I know,” said Raphael, who suddenly cast his dark eyes at John.
“No, who is it?”
“John Winchester,” said Raphael. “The human hunter. He's here. He hates angels. He hates us all.”
There was a pause. “John Winchester. Yes. I know him. I know him well.”
John looked puzzled.
“So, Lucifer?” said Raphael. “It is very, very important that no harm come to the Winchester boy. Is that clear? Very, very important you keep him alive. As, uh, a negotiating tactic.”
“Yes, yes, he's still breathing.”
Raphael looked up in horror, but then steeled himself and continued. “So, if we can contact John, that will help you.”
“Contact him? Put a sword through his neck.”
“That won't be easy,” said Raphael. “Hunters are wily!” He looked up, and Bobby, who was still at the computer monitor, was signaling thumbs up. “All right, Lucifer? We'll try to locate John, see where he's holed up, and we'll get back to you. OK?”
“Sooner. Rather than later,” warned Lucifer. And then the line went dead.
“What did he mean?” asked Raphael, looking up with tears in his eyes. “He said Sam was OK. And then....”
“Raph, you did good, so steady,” said Bobby.
“Where is Lucifer?” asked Castiel.
“Looks like he's at your place,” said Bobby.
“Then I will go kill him,” said Castiel, who had a sword out.
“I'm coming with you,” said John.
“No!” said Bobby.
“Bobby! We don't know how much time we have!” said Dean.
“We're not goin' anywhere without a plan!” insisted Bobby.
“I got a plan!” said Gabriel. “I'm gonna go clip his fucking wings!”
“He cannot stand up to all of us,” said Castiel.
“Maybe he can,” said Balthazar. “We don't know how many souls he's absorbed, Cassie.”
“Wait!” shouted Raphael. “Gabriel! What did you say just now?”
“I'll clip his fucking wings!” shouted Gabriel.
“Bobby,” said Raphael. “I think I have an idea. Using.... Using Lucifer's vanity.”
“Then it's a winner,” said Bobby. “What is it?”
John sat out on Bobby Singer’s porch, he and Bobby loading salt ammo into shotguns. Bobby had grunted for John to help him, and then that was all anyone had said to him since the phone call.
“Salt isn’t gonna do much fucking good against, angels,” said John.
“It’s especially not gonna do good against a crazy ass angel who’s just been snacking on souls.”
“You think Lucifer is crazy?” asked John.
“I think that goes without sayin’ at this point. But, yeah, I don't think he was ever wrapped up too tight. And Cas tells me there’s a ton of warnings on those spells that gobbling souls don’t do much for your disposition.”
“Castiel,” growled John. “You trust those angels?”
“Maybe more’n I trust you right now.”
“What the fuck, Bobby?” said John, laying down the gun. “You’ve been riding my ass since I came back! They took my boy! Do you need more proof?”
“Cas didn’t take your boy, and neither did any of the kids you saw tonight,” said Bobby, not looking up from his gun.
“You got nothing to say to me?”
“John. I got a fuckload to say to you. But we got work to do, and I ain’t currently got time to kick your fucking idjit ass in the manner it richly fucking deserves.” He stopped and glared at John. “You didn’t come to Sioux Falls ‘cause of me, and it sure wasn’t to keep your boys in school. You wanted in to that house on the hill, and you knew your boy Dean would find a way.”
“That’s not…” John sputtered.
“I don’t know if Lucifer had something to do with your wife or not. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. According to his brother, Raph, he’s had it in for humankind since the beginning of time. That’s a pretty big grudge. But you throwing those boys in the middle? Your boys?”
“I didn’t think it would go this far! Do you think I would have if I knew Sam would be in danger? If I know Dean was fucking stupid enough to start … sleeping with one of them?”
Bobby didn’t reply for a long moment, but went back to loading his gun. “John Winchester. You threw a teenage boy – and not just any boy, but your boy, Dean – in with a mob of the most beautiful and mysterious and glorious and just plain fucking intriguing critters in God’s creation, who also happen to be currently manifested as a bunch of hormone-addled human teenagers, and … what? You expected everybody to just keep their hands to themselves? That was one great fucking plan, John. One great. Fucking. Plan.”
John bit his lip. He decided to try another tack. “Bobby! Don’t you care who murdered Mary?”
“Like I said, this ain’t the time. But I’ll tell you something. At some point, you gotta decide whether you wanna be husband to a dead wife, or father to two live boys. Now, shut the fuck up and load your damn gun. Before I shoot you myself.”
Lucifer was bored.
Bored bored bored.
Really, shouldn't taking over the world be a bit more … fun?
The stupid human boy had left his Nintendo in their home. That was sort of fun, but you really needed an opponent to slay in these games. He considered for a moment going to grab the boy out of where he had stashed him, just for an hour or so of entertainment. But then he decided against it. The boy was stupid, and would probably try escaping or something ridiculous like that, and then Lucifer would have to chop of his feet, or something equally tiresome.
He had been planning this for so long. Since before they were exiled here. His Father probably thought this was a big joke, trapping Lucifer – glorious Lucifer – in the pathetic body of one of those naked monkeys. But Lucifer would have the last laugh. Once he had notice of what was to happen, he had only to place the wardings against the reapers, and then let nature take its course. And then, of course, locating the book. His Father had put them only a few miles from Bobby’s Singer’s library: how fortunate!
He looked up from his game when the front door opened. His brothers? Well, that was a little weird. Perhaps they were coming around to his side? But he doubted it. They were probably coming to plead for the human. Maybe he would have them go down on their knees! That would be amusing.
He was not prepared, however, for what he saw.
Raphael and Gabriel stood before him, in all their winged glory.
“My brothers,” said Lucifer, hitting pause on the Nintendo. “Why do you do me this honor?”
Raphael shook his soft brown wings. “Brother,” he said, bowing formally. “We have thought, long and hard about what you said. We realized,” he said, looking at Gabriel, who nodded and fluffed his own light-feathered wings, “that we are angelkind. We are not like them. We should always appear to them in our full glory.”
“Well, this is a pleasant change,” said Lucifer.
“But those guys weren't buying it!” warned Gabriel.
“Yes. Um,” said Raphael. “Unfortunately, our brothers, Balthazar and Castiel, have allied themselves with the humans.”
“And they're coming!' said Gabriel.
“They have.... They have a ridiculous plan to lay siege to us,” said Raphael. “I wouldn't take it too seriously.”
“Of course not,” said Lucifer.
“But we thought to meet them, you know, in our glory,” said Raphael, giving his wings a little flap. Some stray papers scudded off the coffee table.
The three looked up at the sound several vehicles pulling in the driveway. It wasn't hard to miss, as a couple of them had their stereos at full blast.
“They drove in cars? How adorable,” said Lucifer. “The internal combustion engine. You know, it will be first on my list for extinction. When we have our glorious day!”
“Yes, Lucifer,” said Raphael.
And then Lucifer ripped off his shirt, and unfurled his glorious, sandy-colored wings. He also drew his sword, as did Raphael and Gabriel. The three stood side by side as a ridiculously motley party of humans and angels stormed inside, carrying guns and swords: Bobby, John, Dean, Castiel and Balthazar, all yelling and making a commotion.
“You'll pay for this, Lucifer!” screamed Balthazar, who was at the front of the pack, waving his sword. He lunged at Lucifer, but Raphael got in front of him, and the two traded blows.
“This is cool,” said Lucifer, thinking it was too bad Balthazar hadn’t chosen to be winged. Angelic sword fights were way more awesome than Nintendo. “Isn't it, brother Gabriel? Gabriel?”
He looked to Gabriel.
Who wasn't there.
Lucifer screamed, going down in a spray of feathers and blood. He waved a hand, and suddenly, Gabriel was wrenched off his back and slammed against the wall, his angel sword flying from his hand. Dean dropped his gun and ran to him, feeling desperately for a pulse.
Lucifer was on his feet, staring, horrified, at his clipped wing.
“You idiots!” he shrieked. “You can clip me, but I'm still more powerful than all of you combined!” He waved his hand again, and Balthazar and Raphael, who had stopped their fake fight, went flying through the air.
Bobby and John both unloaded their shotguns at Lucifer, which only seemed to irritate him.
“Are you two stupid?” he asked. He gestured, and the guns flew to his hand, where he easily bent them like balloon animals.
John was charging Lucifer with some kind of dagger, which the angel easily flicked away, and then sent John crashing into a glass coffee table. “Dad!” yelled Dean.
“I liked that coffee table!” screamed Raphael, who this time tried a frontal attack on his brother. Lucifer flicked a hand, and Raphael was down again, his nose squirting blood.
“Now for the last time-” huffed Lucifer.
And then, quite suddenly, to the soft sound of beating wings, Lucifer disappeared.
“What the fuck?” asked Balthazar, who had just leapt to his feet.
“Where did he go?” asked Bobby, who was helping up John.
“Where is Cas?” asked Dean.
Lucifer looked down, amused.
Thanks to the perfidy of his idiot brothers, he was presently flightless. And he was being held suspended by his ankle over an active volcano by another idiot brother: the stupidest of the lot.
He had enough power to kill or cripple Cas, of course, thanks to the spirits within him. But, as he was flightless, then it would just be the both of them tumbling into hot lava that was bubbling below. Which really wouldn't do either of them much good.
Where did you find an active volcano if South Fucking Dakota?
Well, all things considered, not the worst spot he'd ever gotten himself into.
“Castiel-”
“Where is Sam?”
Lucifer sighed, a great heaving upside-down sigh. This would be difficult. But really, not unworkable. He looked up to his brother, great dark wings arched, blue eyes blazing. Our own little angel of vengeance. How terribly cute. Lucifer cleared his mind by imagining swatting the little bastard with a giant fly swatter. Until he was just a little lump of Castiel goo.
“I was talking to Joshua about you. Do you know what he said about you?”
“Where is Sam?”
“Joshua said you might end up the most powerful of the lot of us. What do you think of that?”
As if in reply, Castiel swooped lower, closer to the magma, nearly frying off Lucifer's hair.
“Watch it!” warned Lucifer.
“Where is Sam?”
“Castiel, for once in your life, think. Our brothers, they're worthless! I mean, when Michael clobbered you the other day, did a single one rise up for you?”
“Where. Is. Sam.”
“They'd rather just sit and bitch. But you and me? We're different from them.”
“Lucifer. Where THE FUCK is Sam?”
“We get things done! We stand up for what we believe!”
“I am growing impatient, Lucifer.”
Lucifer looked up. Not a brain in this one's head. “Look, what if we do this? When we get back, no more Michael.”
“No. You killed him. Where is Sam? HE HAD BETTER NOT BE HARMED.”
“Sam is fine.”
“Where is he?”
“Once we get back, it will be you and me in charge! We are obviously the leaders, aren't we? Now, I know you must disagree with some of my methods, but I believe we can all arrive at the same place.”
“We are not in the same place. We will never be in the same place. Where is Sam?”
“Will you lay off perseverating about that miserable little human and listen to me?”
“Tell me where Sam is, and I will let you go,” promised Castiel.
Lucifer frowned. Well, it wasn't a great deal, but his hair was smoking. “I put him in that stupid cloister. Where you idiots dug up the saints bones. Now. Let me go.”
Castiel smiled. But it was not a nice smile.
“As you wish,” he said.
Lucifer barely had time to scream.
“The convent. He's in the convent,” said Castiel.
“I’m on it!” said Gabriel. And he was gone. He returned in an instant, Sam in his arms.
“Sammy,” said John.
“You OK, kiddo?” asked Bobby, as Gabriel carefully set him to his feet. Sam looked grubby but unharmed.
“Uncle Bobby!” yelled Sam, who rushed to Bobby's arms, burying his face in Bobby’s chest.
“You're OK, Sammy,” grinned Bobby. “You're OK.”
“I wasn't scared,” sobbed Sam.
“I know you weren't. Come on, kid,” he said, lowering himself to his knees so he could look Sam in the eye. “We'll take you to a doc now and get you checked out. All right?”
A weeping Sam nodded and Bobby caught his hand and led him out.
John Winchester stood behind, looking like someone had just driven a stake through his heart.
“Dad,” said Dean. He nodded at the older Winchester, and John meekly followed Sam and Bobby out the door.
Dean paused one moment by Castiel. He held his shoulder and mouthed, “Thanks.” And then he was out the door too.
“Castiel,” said Raphael, who was nursing what looked like a broken nose. “What happened to Lucifer?”
Castiel glared and gave his dark wings a flap. “I have returned him to our father,” he said.
“Are you wings smoking?” asked Balthazar.
Castiel shook out his wings. “Volcano,” he said.
“No fucking shit? You dumped Lucy in a volcano?” asked Gabriel, who was sitting propped up on a couch.
“Yes. I dumped Lucy in a volcano,” said Castiel.
“I wish...” said Raphael. “I wish I could have seen the look on the motherfucker's face.”
“Just for the record, none of us are going to chide Castiel for killing our brother?” asked Balthazar.
“Oh, fuck no!” said Gabriel.
“Murdering bastard deserved it,” grumbled Raphael. “He is always like this. You give him every chance in the world. And it always happens.”
“Well,” said Balthazar. “Well, I think we should note that Castiel is clearly fledged.”
“Oh, yeah, congrats dude!” said Gabriel. He put up his hand for what Castiel now recognized was a high five.
Castiel smiled slightly, and slapped Gabriel's hand. But then the tears came, and three angels, his brothers, gathered around him.
Dean awoke, alone in his bed.
It was a big bed. Well, a bigger bed. He and his dad had gone to get it, with not much comment from John other than to stay the hell out of the master bedroom from now on.
It had been part of a small bout of their father’s generosity. Sam had gotten a battered but nicely rebuilt laptop and way too many video games. John said it was near enough to Christmas. Both Dean and Sammy had told John that what they really wanted was for him to stick around this year, though he was kind of quiet about that. He had kind of vaguely promised to be around more often, but Dean could feel he was itching to take off again. Sammy would take it hard, Dean thought, but he was getting used to it.
The door opened quietly, and Cas crept in, clutching a bowl of … something. As it turned out, the fledging thing did make him hornier, but he also remained hungrier than usual. Balthazar had opined that he was using a lot of grace somehow, but wasn’t certain how it worked.
“Oh, did you want some ice cream?” Cas asked politely as he hopped back on the bed.
Dean pulled closer. “I want you to finish your damn ice cream and then get back out of those pants,” he said, indicating the jeans Cas had pulled on to make the kitchen raid.
“Sure,” said Cas agreeably, mouthing ice cream.
Dean lay on his back, watching his friend. He hadn't seen him for what seemed like forever, except for a few quick conversations at school. It had been just a few days, but all of the Malakhim brothers had grown very quiet and withdrawn for a time. He wasn't completely surprised when Sam caught the newspaper article about two local boys perishing in a small plane crash. Michael had been learning to fly a small airplane, and crashed into a mountain. Maybe a bit of a joke on their part, though a grim one.
Dean had been surprised when Cas had called today about coming over. There had been so many things Dean wanted to say to him, but then one thing had led to another, and they hadn't spent a whole lot of time talking.
“So, you’re fledged, right?” Dean finally asked. Cas nodded, a bit of ice cream running down his chin. Dean grinned and reached over and wiped it off with two fingers. “So if you wanted to, you could just zap out of here and zap back with ice cream?”
“I suppose so,” said Castiel.
“Or just zap it into your hand. I mean, like Gabe does?”
Castiel considered. “It seems wasteful, doesn’t it? All that zapping?” He looked at Dean for a time, even pausing in his eating. “What was it you really wanted to ask?” he said.
“Cas. You.... You dunked your brother in a volcano? I mean, like the Lord of the Rings?” asked Dean.
“I.... I understand that reference!” said Castiel, wonder in his eyes. He had spent rather a lot of time in the library these past few years.
“Heh. Probably not, actually,” said Dean, leaning back. “I was thinking of the movie version.”
“Oh. Sam is OK?” asked Cas, artfully changing the subject.
“He's fine! He was just a little shaken up. He was asking about you, though.”
Castiel nodded.
“You're gonna start walking him home again? He's got a new Nintendo game. A couple of them. Dad is kind of spoiling him.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that, Dean. What you father said?”
“About...?”
Castiel breathed out. “About going away with him.”
“Look, you don't have to worry, I'm not gonna do that! And your brother Raphael said....”
“I think you should seriously consider doing it,” said Castiel, who was now just poking at his ice cream.
“Why the hell should we do that?” asked Dean, suddenly sitting bolt upright.
“Dean, think! What if something had happened to Sam? I could not forgive myself.”
“What? You didn't take him.”
“My brother did! My brother tried to hurt you! Do you know how powerful we are? How dangerous?” Cas was glaring at him.
Dean felt like he'd been slapped. He couldn't believe he was hearing this.
“It might be safer for your family-” Cas started.
Dean took a breath. He wound up. “OK, Cas, you know something? Stop right there! And right now! Because you know what? You're a fucking rerun. I've heard this same fucking story my whole life. From my dad. 'You stay back here, Dean, you'll get hurt.' Well, fuck that! I am sick and tired as fuck of being dumped! You got me! You're stuck with me! And.... And I'm a hunter, so even if you try and run away, I'll fucking hunt you down! You'll never, ever get rid of me! You hear?”
Castiel paused, obviously only a fraction of the way through a well-prepared speech. There were tears in his eyes. “I didn't really want you to go,” he whispered. “But I thought I should....”
“OK, it's settled, it's done, and we never mention it again!” announced Dean.
“Well...” Castiel started to say, but then Dean was shutting him up definitively with a kiss. Dean grabbed the bowl and set it down on the floor.
Cas leaned over and grabbed the bowl back. “I just have a little more in the bottom!”
“You’re still hungry, huh?” asked Dean, who was already fiddling with Cas' pants.
“Uh-huh. Joshua says I’m going to be powerful.”
“Wait. Joshua?” asked Dean, who was suddenly distracted again. “You mean your older brother, Joshua?”
“He was just talking to me in my dream. We can visit each other in our dreams. Had I told you that?”
“More weird angel stuff? OK,” said Dean. “So, what else did Joshua say?”
“Well,” said Castiel, considering the dregs of his ice cream. “He agrees with you, that I should keep you guys as my friends. He says my weaknesses will be my strengths. I didn’t know what that meant, it sounded like something weird Balthazar would say.”
“Huh,” said Dean. It did sound weird. Maybe Sammy or Bobby would know?
“I asked if he was going to come back. You know, since Michael and Lucifer are gone? Raphael doesn’t really wanna lead the family, you know. He wants to write depressing poetry. But Joshua said we’re going to have a sign. From our Father.”
“A sign? What kind of sign?” asked Dean.
“No clue,” said Castiel. “Do I look like a prophet?”
“You look … like an angel,” said Dean, who moved in to kiss him as Castiel very carefully held the bowl upright. “But you taste like Rocky Road.”
“This is really good!” said Castiel, pointing to the bowl. “Would you mind if I had just one more bowl?”
“Cas!”
Then Castiel’s cell phone rang.
“Whatever it is, ignore it!” pleaded Dean as Cas wriggled over to answer it. Cas listened in silence for a long moment.
“Dean,” said Castiel.
“WHAT?”
“I think we have the sign.”
“Weird to think I just shot the little bastard the other day!” grinned Bobby, who was hefting a very cute, sandy-haired baby. “Are you a cute little devil? Yes you are!” he laughed as the infant cooed.
They were all standing around the Haunted Mansion: three angels who resembled teenage boys, three humans, and two gurgling infants.
“So these could be my little brothers?” asked Sam, who was rubbing the tummy of the dark-haired kid that a stunned looking Raphael was holding.
Dean and Castiel looked at each other. “Uh. Well, sort of. I guess,” said Dean.
“I’ll show them how to play Nintendo!” promised Sam.
“Can't we give them away to gypsies?” whined Gabriel.
“Naw, I don’t think so,” said Bobby.
“What about the fairies?” prompted Gabriel. “I bet the fairies would take ‘em!”
“Take your little brothers?” laughed Bobby. “I think fairies are little smarter than that.”
“Shit,” said Gabriel.
“Raph,” said Bobby, “what you guys used to do, you used to get nannies and a lot of help from the town. You want me to take some calls?”
Raphael, who was looking drawn and utterly confused, nodded. “I will need a babysitter. As I have … a date?”
“With who?” asked Dean immediately.
“Um,” said Raphael. “A girl who came to my poetry reading? Denise Hess....”
“Not Denise Hesselbacher?” asked Dean.
Raphael leaned over towards Dean, being careful to shield the baby's ears. “She smells like vanilla!' he whispered.
“A redhead!' laughed Dean. “Good going, dude.”
Raphael nodded, and bounced the baby.
“This is crazy,” said Dean. “So this is the message from your dad?” he asked Castiel, who shrugged.
“The messenger is still here,” offered Raphael.
“Oh, yeah!” chuckled Bobby. “You kids gotta meet the guy.”
Dean and Cas looked at each other. “Where is he?” asked Castiel.
“Out in back,” said Raphael. “Smoking. With Balthazar.”
Dean and Castiel proceeded to one of the mansion’s back yard patios. Indeed, Balthazar was out smoking with a winged angel. The guy was a skinny bastard, even skinnier than Castiel. He looked over from where he was chatting with Balthazar and asked. “What’s this? More brothers? Wait, you aren’t an angel.”
“Uh, no, I’m not,” admitted Dean. “I’m Cas’ friend.”
The angel got up and extended a hand, keeping his cigarette away. He had odd, shiny wings, and shiny eyes as well. “Sorry, my boyfriend won’t let me smoke, so I bummed a Marlboro from Balthy.”
“So, you’re a heavenly messenger?” asked Dean.
The angel grinned and blew smoke. “Yeah, I’m a heavenly fucking messenger. What do you want, kid?”
“Well, how ‘bout a message?” said Dean. Castiel nodded.
The guy shook his wings a bit, as if this amused him. “Yeah, I got a message. ‘This time, don’t fuck it up.’”
“Wait, that’s what He said?” asked Dean.
“I’m paraphrasing. Now, me, I might steer clear of calling the little guy Lucifer this time. Maybe that’s your problem. Call him Stanley or something,” suggested the angel, shaking out his wings.
“The angel, Stanley?” asked Dean.
“I am Stanley, angel of the Lord,” tried Castiel.
“Works for me,” said the angel. “Now, I gotta wing. Thanks for the smoke, buddy,” he told Balthazar. And, with a soft rustling sound, he was gone.
“Angels are different from what I thought,” said Dean as Raphael emerged, still holding the infant version of Michael. The rest of the household wandered out behind them.
“What were we supposed to be like?” asked Castiel.
“Well. I pictured more harps.”
The baby Michael squirmed in Raphael’s arms, holding its chubby little arms towards Dean. “Oh, uh, me?” Dean asked. Raphael shrugged and handed Michael over to a very uncomfortable Dean. “So, uh,” Dean told him. “Sorry about the whole dying thing, Mike. That must’ve sucked.”
The baby gabbled and then slumped into Dean’s chest, drooling and emitting a soft baby snore.
“Aw!” said Balthazar, who dabbed at the infant's chin with the small towel he had thrown over a shoulder. “You’re a natural.”
“Hey, it likes me!” said Dean. “So, cool. Hey, little guy. We’ll teach you how to do an oil change. And how not to be a dick!”
Bobby laughed. “Might be a couple more things he needs, Dean.”
“Like what?” asked Dean. Lucifer, or was it Stanley, still in Bobby's arms, let out a burp.
“How to order pizza?” suggested Sam.
“I’m hungry,” said Castiel, rubbing his stomach.
“You’re always hungry,” groused Gabriel. “Maybe we can trade you to the gypsies.”
“Gabriel, you are … a fart knocker!” Castiel told him.
“Dick wings!” said Gabriel.
“Cherub breath!” countered Castiel.
“And that’s how you get along with your brothers,” Dean told the baby, giving it a little smooch on the top of the head. Babies were kind of cool. And they smelled nice.
But baby Michael was asleep. Dreaming sweet dreams. Of pizza and oil changes to come.