Long chapter that is my poor ass attempt at tying up all the loose ends. x'D

Castiel watched Benny, who sat on a rock a few ways away from him and Dean, who was on the ground, leaning on the trunks of trees and resting. Castiel did not trust the Purgatory-native; he might have saved him once, and that may have affected his feelings about him greatly, but trusting a monster was not something Castiel was going to learn to do overnight. Perhaps in a day or two… or a week… or a month…

It was difficult to judge how much time was passing. As far as any of them knew, an hour could have passed in Purgatory and it equaled to a day in the living world. The thought disturbed Castiel greatly.

Beside him, Dean elicited an audible scoff, and both Castiel and Benny turned upon hearing the sound.

Dean held in his hand what seemed to be a wallet. He turned it upside down and shook it, letting its contents fall to the ground. There was not a lot in it: a few coins, some credits cards, and several pictures. There were no bills, to Castiel's grim amusement.

"Fat lot of good those are gonna do you," said Benny, chortling lightly.

"You think I should keep it?" said Dean. "The wallet, I mean."

Benny shrugged. "Probably. Don't want the monsters here finding out we've been here. They've been on our asses since day one."

Dean grunted and started shoving the contents back into the wallet. He picked up a picture of Sam and kept it out for a while longer, staring down at it. Soon, Benny approached and asked who it was.

"My brother," answered Dean. "He's probably out there right now looking for a way to get me out of this hellhole."

"You better hope he doesn't get himself in here by trying, too."

A frown eased its way onto Dean's face and he waved Benny away. Benny clasped his shoulder before returning to his position sitting on the rock seven feet away. As Dean was slipping Sam's picture into his wallet, Castiel noticed a faint glow coming from the pile of photos. It had been so long since he had seen so much as the color yellow or orange, that it sparked something within him. He dug around the pile for a few seconds, before pulling out a photo of Aubrey.

Seeing her face after so long—after what he had done—saddened him, made him rejoice, and shamed him all at once, if that was even possible.

The photo had been taken at a beach. The sunlight caught on Aubrey's hair and turned it a beautiful shade of gold. She posed with Sam, having an arm wrapped around his bare shoulders and head tilted close to his chest. She had her face scrunched up and Sam poked his tongue through his lips. They looked so happy. Castiel presumed that it had been Dean who took the picture.

He tried to ignore the fact that she was almost completely naked in the shot, save for what people called a "bikini top" that covered her chest and looped around the back of her neck. Slowly, it became a more difficult task, until such a time came that the churning in his stomach became so hard to ignore, he practically tossed the photo to Dean, who snatched it out of the air.

Dean looked down at the photo and his face brightened immediately. He laughed, and it might have been the first time anyone had ever uttered such a cheerful sound in Purgatory.

"I remember this," he said, flipping the photo over to reveal a small text at the back. "Yeah, we took this photo at Carlsbad a few years back. God, I miss her." Then he sighed, and the sadness returned to his face. He looked up at Castiel and looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "Are you sure you put her somewhere safe?"

"She and Aiden could not be safer," Castiel replied easily. "But I would prefer not to tell you her location here, under such… unfortunate circumstances." The hunter grunted in reply, and Castiel frowned. "She will be angry with me if I ever return her memories."

"When you return her memories," corrected Dean. "And yeah, she'll be pretty pissed." He scoffed. "Hell, she might even kill you."

"I think so too." Castiel's eyebrows furrowed together and he said nothing more.

The clearing they were in was then enveloped in a companionable silence. Benny showed no signs of hearing their conversation, but Castiel was more than sure that he had been listening in. The angel was forced to presume that Dean had fallen asleep, and was just closing his eyes when Dean's voice reached his ears.

"She loves you, you know," he said. Surprised, Castiel turned to find the hunter looking ahead of them; his eyes seemed to be staring at something very, very far away, as if looking into the future. He continued, "I get that you've done some pretty bad shit, but I don't think she could ever hate you. And considering that… I don't think you deserve her." After a moment, he added, "None of us do."

Though it would have hurt him in any other situation, Dean's words sent an odd feeling of serenity through Castiel's bones.

It was true: no one deserved to have such a wonderful being such as Aubrey, except perhaps for another Phoenix. If that were to happen, then they could live their years as equals. But the only Phoenix left was Aiden, and Castiel very much doubted that Aubrey would settle for a child. "Could she, then, for an angel?" he asked himself, and then discarded the thought from his mind.

However, he could not help but to remember what had happened the last time he had seen the girl: she kissed him, and he kissed her back—albeit much more heatedly than she. In his millennia on earth and in heaven, he had never felt such peace, such happiness, and, in the same way, such longing. Longing for the girl he had come to admire and adore; longing he felt when he was elsewhere, apart from her, but similarly when they were together as well; longing that could only be tamed by touching her, or kissing her, in the most intimate of ways. He had not known that angels could have such strong feelings for any being other than their own, for love and lust was all but alien to them, but it seemed that his time with the Winchesters had changed him.

For a moment, it frightened him. That perhaps his new emotions for Aubrey would result in him becoming an outcast to heaven. But then he remembered where he was, and that fear would only attract hordes of monsters to their location. He forced himself to forget about his musings and focus on the moment at hand.

Dean spoke: "Returning her memories… do you think that would make her life better or worse?"

Castiel was a bit surprised that he had returned to their previous topic, but did not argue.

"Neither," he replied earnestly. "If she is to return to hunting, more monsters will see her for what she is within short spans of time. At least then, she would know why they are after her and how she can defend herself. Yet if she were to remain where she is, completely devoid of knowing what she is, she has no means to defend herself if ever a monster were to come walking past. The extra protection on her and Aiden would only delay the inevitable."

"We'll get her back, then." It sounded like a question more than a statement.

Castiel nodded. "We'll get her back."

Dean was quiet for a moment, and then he stretched his arm out to the angel. "Here," he said. "You should have this." Castiel looked down and found another photo in his hand. It depicted the same scenery, and it was still of Aubrey, but Sam was nowhere in the shot. She was smiling—a broad, flashing grin—that had Castiel's stomach in knots.

He glanced up and asked, "You're sure?"

Dean shrugged. "I have enough pictures of her for myself and Sam. You don't have any."

Grateful, Castiel took the photo and stared down at Aubrey's face. As Dean reverted back to leaning against the tree, Castiel tucked the photo into his coat's pocket. He leaned back but found that he did not need to rest anymore. His will had been restored, and he swore to himself that he would see Aubrey again, in the flesh… yet the thought of the portal being human-friendly troubled him.

He looked at Dean, who had dozed off. I will return to her, yes, he mused grimly, but I will see him returned first.

"You're sure this is the right place?" asked Dean from across the table. Sighing, Castiel fixed him a half-hearted glare, to which the hunter responded by rolling his eyes and pursing his lips, but otherwise looking away. He grumbled, "Fine."

Sam shifted beside him and then took up the menu. "Well, it took us almost eight hours to get here, and I'm starving. Dean, what do you want?"

For a while, Dean was content with just looking around the restaurant with crossed arms. He was pouting, which Castiel had found was a sign of him being upset. Eventually, however, his eyes flickered down to the menu in his brother's hands and he nodded, saying, "That burger looks pretty good."

"You want some fries with that?"

He only grunted in reply.

Sam looked to Castiel. "How about you, Cas? You want anything?"

"Just water," the angel replied. Now it was his turn to glance around the restaurant.

The place was packed, bustling with activity. Placed by the walls were booths with dark blue cushions. Sam, Dean, and Castiel sat in one of these at the left side of the restaurant, beside the floor-to-ceiling windows. Outside, they could see cars drone by lazily, the pavement illuminated by streetlamps far above them. At the far right of the restaurant was a black stage, similar to the color of the smooth, shiny floor. A band was set up on the platform, and they languidly played their instruments, creating ideal background music for the atmosphere of the lively restaurant.

As a waitress hurried past, not being able to stop at their table for she had already written down an order, Castiel eyed the markings on the bright burgundy walls; signatures, he came to realize. They seemed to glimmer beneath the dim, colored lighting of the restaurant.

Sam wrapped his arms around himself even though it was considerably warm. Castiel caught Dean throw his brother a concerned look before the sound of a child's laughter cut through the dull noise of the restaurant. At first, he did not raise his head to acknowledge the sound, thinking that it was normal in such a place, but then Dean swatted at him from across the table and nodded at something behind him, wide-eyed.

Curious, Castiel glanced over his shoulder and frowned at what he saw.

A family of three sat two booths away from them. The father, with dark hair and kind eyes, wiped a smear of chocolate off his son's cheek. The mother watched with a smile on her face, her hand on the boy's head.

Castiel's eyes narrowed. Over the course of a year, Aiden had grown considerably taller, and his face had matured, but Castiel could see that he was still a child by human standards. He looked away before arousing suspicion from Greg or Lorraine, but he once again heard the high chortle of the boy, making him frown.

"You put them in the same damn city?" Dean hissed.

"They aren't supposed to be here," doubtfully said Castiel. "I hid them several miles farther from here. If they came here, it must have been for the fame of the restaurant, not because of Aubrey."

"Fate works in mysterious ways," said Sam.

Dean shook his head. "Yeah, she's also a bitch, last time I checked." Sam grunted in agreement but said no more.

The light tinkling of a bell caught Castiel's attention. His ears perked up; he did not look behind him, for he already knew that the tinkling had been caused by the front door being opened. In front of him, Sam and Dean stilled and seemed to stop breathing all together. From the counter at the front of the room, a woman hollered over the noise of the restaurant, "You're so late!"

"I'm sorry!" was the reply, and Castiel froze at the familiar voice.

He whirled around and saw her standing there, garbed in her usual casual attire, with a coat dangling from her arm.

"She cut her hair?" Dean quietly exclaimed. For a moment, Castiel was afraid that Aubrey had heard, but she only closed the door behind her and strode across the room to the counter, where a woman with copper skin met her. Still astonished, Castiel was barely able to remember that he could use his heightened senses to hear what they were saying.

Pursing his lips in concentration, he listened in.

"Christ, Jules," said the unfamiliar woman. "Alan's going to have your head."

Aubrey scoffed. "Come on, Skye. I'm his most valuable waitress." From the corner of his eye, Castiel watched as she slipped a golden orange apron over her head and then pinned something onto her chest. "And I have a performance next weekend. He couldn't possibly kill me."

"He could hire someone."

"That's… true."

"Stop talking to me and start waiting tables." 'Skye' nodded to the initial direction of Castiel, making him hold his breath. "Some cute guys came in a few minutes ago, haven't ordered yet."

Aubrey grinned. "Aw, did you save them for me?"

Skye then gave her a hard push, and Aubrey stumbled away, laughing. Her peals of amusement sent an odd sensation through Castiel's body. He retreated back into himself, pulling away from the lure of his hearing, and looked evenly at Sam and Dean.

"She's coming to take our orders," he told them. "Act natural."

The older Winchester scowled. "What? Why?"

Castiel gave him an expectant look, which he returned with a glare, but otherwise did not argue further. Sam proceeded to place his elbow onto the table and lean against his hand, somewhat awkwardly. Dean straightened up on his seat and cradled his jaw in his hand, already staring at Aubrey, who was nearing them. Castiel remained as he was.

By that time, Aubrey was standing beside their table with a wide smile on her face, holding a notepad and a pen in her hands. On her chest, there was a rectangular pin that read 'Jules'.

"Hi, I'm Juliet, your waitress for this evening, but you can call me Jules." She tapped the pin. "What can I get you today, boys?"

For a few seconds, it was just them staring at her with mouths agape. She raised an eyebrow and looked to Castiel, seemingly for an answer, but he could provide none. He only looked away. She cleared her throat. "Uh…"

"Sorry, sorry," said Sam, shaking his head slightly. "Could we have, uh… the double cheeseburger?"

Aubrey tilted her head slightly. "Americans… Did you come here for vacation?" She scribbled something onto the notepad.

"Yeah, you could say that." Dean laughed.

"Beef or chicken patty?"

Sam looked to Dean, who offered a shrug. "Is there a way to get both?"

Aubrey grinned. "Extra pay."

"That's fine. And then, uh… two beers and a glass of water for Cas here." His gaze turned expectant, perhaps thinking that Castiel's name would spark a memory or two within her brain. But Castiel had made sure that the second wall he placed within her mind was strong. She only nodded and smiled.

"Cas…" she mused. "Cool name."

Castiel, not knowing what else to say, ducked his head and muttered, "Thank you."

His statement was met with a laugh. "Alright, is that all?"

"Could you put some fries in there too?" said Sam.

"Right…" The tip of her pen flew across the pad and then she smiled at them. "Five minutes, 'kay?"

"Gotcha."

They watched as Aubrey turned around and walked back to the counter, where she knocked on a metal grate on the wall. The grate opened up to reveal a dark-skinned man in chef's clothes. She handed the order to him and the grate closed again. She walked back out from behind the counter and was looking to be taking more orders from the table behind the hunters, when suddenly Castiel noticed Aiden jump out from his seat. Greg and Lorraine walked to the front door, and as Aiden was passing by, Aubrey reached out and ruffled the boy's hair. Aiden complained loudly, but sounded amused, and poked his tongue out at Aubrey before following his parents out of the restaurant.

Oddly nervous, Castiel turned back around to face the looks of exasperation on Sam's and Dean's faces.

"You screwed up," said Dean, and he could not help but to agree. He only hoped that Aiden was not a regular, otherwise, his scent combined with Aubrey's would surely bring monsters hounding to the doors.

"Okay, how exactly are you gonna do this again?" said Sam, placing his forearms on the table and leaning forward. "Just give her memories back so she can completely uproot her life here—like that's normal?"

Castiel frowned. "Well… that was what I was planning." Dean threw his hands up in exasperation and Sam pursed his lips, making the angel scowl in frustration. "What would you have me do then? Explain to everyone she knows that 'Jules' was never a real person?"

"I want you to fix your friggin' mistake," Dean retorted sharply.

"How?"

"Figure it out!"

The angel glared at him for a long while, not being able to find the right words, only because perhaps there was no more to say. Dean was right; he had to fix his mistake. But Castiel, for all he knew, could not think of a decent solution for smoothly pulling Aubrey out of London. He really did want her back, though, and so he retreated into a thoughtful silence.

As he was deep in thought, Aubrey came by with a tray and placed two beer bottles on the table, along with two stout glasses with cubes of ice and a separate, taller glass filled with ice water. She smiled briefly before walking away again.

Castiel found himself staring after her with a small smile on his face. He was not brought back to himself until Dean gave his shoulder a rough swipe, to which he looked at him in question. "Fix it," was all he said.

Five minutes, right on the dot, Aubrey returned to their table with Dean's double cheeseburger and a plate of French fries. She placed a red bottle that read "Ketchup" at the front, and then said, "Holler if you need anything else, yeah?" Sam nodded. She turned but, before she even took a single step forward, she glanced over her shoulder and at Castiel.

With a hint of a smirk, she winked before resuming on her brisk pace to another table. Castiel's eyes widened and he tried to blink away his surprise yet found it almost impossible.

From across the table, Dean scoffed and took a large bite out of his burger. Through a mouthful of food, he said, "Same old Aubrey… except for that accent."

"Yeah, the accent's new," Sam agreed.

"Friggin' distracting."

Castiel frowned and turned his head, watching Aubrey chat with Skye. He noticed that their eyes would often flicker to him, and once, to Dean, before they began laughing quietly.

"Don't stare," Dean suddenly said.

"Why?"

His gaze turned steely. "Just don't, alright?"

"I've come up with a plan, if that helps." Dean gestured to Castiel with his half-eaten burger and nodded. The angel continued, "We could stay here for another week or two and become 'regulars' as you would call it. Then Aubrey wouldn't find it at all weird if we start asking about her life. If she's gained many new friends, then we will help undermine their connections. If not… we could always make up a story." Upon seeing the doubtful expressions on their faces, he sighed. "I know that it is a rather crude solution, but it will be necessary if we are to get Aubrey back. You do want her back, right?"

Sam leaned back in his chair and said, "We might as well book a cheap hotel, then—come back here tomorrow for dinner?"

Dean grunted in reply but said nothing.

The hotel they booked was cheap enough, considering the difference in currency. They were barely able to pay the price for staying a week.

Nevertheless, they always made sure to return to the restaurant Aubrey was working in—"The Vertigo Lounge"—for dinner every night. Dean always had burger and a beer, whereas Sam sometimes had the same, but sometimes he had pasta, or salad, or something else. But the beers never left, and Castiel never ordered more than a glass of water. Despite this, Aubrey always brought to their table a large bowl of bread, giving Castiel an expectant look.

He made sure to be nibbling on one of the loaves whenever she looked over at them or passed them by.

After the first week there, plus a few more days after that, Aubrey started saying to Dean and Castiel whenever she was going to take their order, "Usual?" and Dean would always nod his head. She did not do the same for Sam, however, for his orders varied, but they soon understood that she was warming up to them.

Whenever they could, and as casually as they could, they would ask her things about her personal life—if she had any siblings, how long she had been working as a waitress, who her friends were—even though they already knew the answers to most. And it was through this strategy that they found just how intricate Castiel's spell had been.

When he had first sent her and Aiden's family to London, he had already weaved lies of their existence into the minds of everyone he was sure they were going to meet; for Aubrey, her co-workers in the restaurant; for Aiden, Greg and Lorraine, their landlord and Greg's boss.

After a night of pondering on it, Castiel came to the conclusion that the spell could easily be erased, but that he could again place it onto the strangers who had come to know Aubrey as their waitress so that they would not ask for her.

Castiel confronted Dean about this and explained to him the situation. In the end, a roguish smile made its way onto Dean's face and he said, "Can you do it tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Then tomorrow it is. I think I've had enough of England anyway."

Yet somehow, Castiel was able to convince them that it would be best if the spell was done at nighttime, when the restaurant was most packed.

It was a Saturday night, and Castiel's prediction had been right. They were barely able to make their way to their usual booth without bumping into any burly men. Dean plopped down onto the cushion first, and then Sam, and finally Castiel, who patiently slipped into the booth.

"Good idea, Cas," said Dean, and he sounded genuine.

Castiel nodded in acknowledgement before turning his head and scanning the restaurant for Aubrey. He spotted her on the stage across the room, sitting on a stool with a guitar positioned on her lap and a microphone stand in front of her. She did not have her waitress' apron on and was wearing dark grey jeans and a dull red blouse. Sam and Dean followed his gaze and frowned in confusion.

The older of the two muttered, "What the hell?"

Aubrey tapped the microphone, catching the attention of the rest of the people in the diner, who all turned to catch a glimpse of her. She smiled cheekily.

"Assuming you all saw the sign outside; it's a Saturday, meaning vocals night. So we weren't able to call up any popular bands and such, but lucky for you guys, I'm actually a wonderful singer." There was a faint cacophony of catcalls and cheers from the diners, which made her chuckle. "Anyway, without further ado, sit back, relax, finish your dinner, and enjoy the music."

And as several of the diners looked away to return to their food, Castiel did not look away from her.

She began strumming the guitar, and after only a few notes, she was singing.

"Now that he's back in the atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in his hair, he acts like summer and walks like rain, reminds me that there's time to change…"

Several cries broke out from the diners in recognition of the song, and she acknowledged them with a serene smile.

"Since the return from his stay on the moon, he listens like spring and he talks like June… Tell me, did you sail across the sun? Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded, and that heaven is overrated?"

Across the table, Sam and Dean shared a light laugh.

"Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star—one without a permanent scar? And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?"

Castiel pursed his lips.

"Now that he's back from that soul vacation, tracing his way through the constellation, he checks out Mozart while he does Tae-Bo, reminds me that there's room to grow… Now that he's back in the atmosphere, I'm afraid that he might think of me as 'Plain Old Jane told a story about a man who was too afraid to fly so he never did land'. So tell me, did Venus blow your mind? Was it everything you wanted to find? And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?"

He began to doubt the strength of his spell, for it seemed that she could remember everything that had happened, considering her song choice, but not once did she look to him with the familiar knowing glint in her eye.

"Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken, your best friend always sticking up for you—even when I know you're wrong? Can you imagine no first dance, freeze-dried romance, five-hour phone conversation, the best soy latte that you ever had, and me?"

It was a long, continuous part from the song, complete with both low and high notes. Someone cheered in approval from Aubrey's right side, and she gave the man a sideways glance, smiling widely.

Her voice dropped and her strumming of the guitar became slower, gentler, as she continued in a softer tone: "But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet? Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day and head back to the Milky Way? Tell me, did you sail across the sun? Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded, and that heaven is overrated? Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star—one without a permanent scar? And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself? Na, na, na, na…"

Several diners sang along cheerfully, swaying to the music. Aubrey grinned but the song had to end eventually, and it did with the most transparent lyric Castiel ever heard so far: "And are you lonely, looking for yourself out there?"

Then very subtly, the strumming pattern on the guitar changed, becoming a different song altogether—slower, and seemingly more melancholic.

Aubrey closed her eyes as she sang the first strains of the song, "Honey, why're you calling me so late? It's kind of hard to talk right now… Honey, why're you crying? Is everything okay? I have to whisper 'cause I can't be too loud."

Dean nearly spat out his beer. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, cursing under his breath. Castiel looked at him questioningly, and Sam hissed, "I thought you erased her memories!"

Castiel frowned. "I did."

"Then why the hell is she singing this?"

"Am I supposed to know this song?"

Glowering, Sam retreated into a grudging silence as Aubrey's voice cut into their atmosphere once more. Her strumming increased in intensity.

"Well, my man's in the next room. Sometimes, I wish he was you. I guess we never really moved on. It's really good to hear your voice saying my name. It sounds so sweet coming from the lips of an angel. Hearing those words, it makes me weak… And I never want to say goodbye, but, boy, you make it hard to be faithful"—she stopped strumming, and the echo of it accompanied her voice—"with the lips of an angel."

Castiel froze. More catcalls erupted from the diners, but they were silenced as soon as she began singing again.

"It's funny that you're calling me tonight… And yes, I've dreamt of you too. If Skylar was singing with me, it'd be bad. Yes I'm pretty sure she sounds like a pig." Aubrey chuckled as Skye came bounding up to her from the counter to swat the back of her head. Laughter burst forth from the audience, and they clapped as Aubrey stood up, but otherwise kept the guitar with her and continued the song in the proper way.

"Well, my man's in the next room. Sometimes I wish he was you. I guess we never really moved on."

She tilted her head and looked at the side while she sang, scanning the crowd with her eyes. When she reached Dean, Sam and Castiel's table, her gaze lingered there. A smile played on her lips.

"It's really good to hear your voice saying my name. It sounds so sweet coming from the lips of an angel. Hearing those words, it makes me weak… And I never want to say goodbye, but, boy, you make it hard to be faithful with the lips of an angel." This time, the intense strumming remained, and she looked away from Castiel to concentrate on the guitar. He never knew she could play.

"It's really good to hear your voice saying my name. It sounds so sweet coming from the lips of angel. Hearing those words, it makes me weak." Just as the power started draining out, it returned again twice fold. "And I never want to say goodbye, but, boy, you make it hard to be faithful… so hard to be faithful…" Her eyes screwed shut as she strained her voice.

Then her strumming stopped, and she opened them again, resting her gaze on Castiel. "With the lips of an angel."

As the final strains of the guitar ended, the diners applauded Aubrey's performance. For a while, she kept her gaze on Castiel, and her eyebrows furrowed together, as if in confusion… It was the same look she had whenever she was trying to remember something. He held his breath, and remained like this until she turned away.

She removed the guitar strap from her shoulders and positioned the guitar so that it leaned against the wall. "Last song of the night, folks," she said into the mic, removing it from the stand. Men suddenly began walking up onto the stage. Castiel started, thinking that they were going to attack Aubrey, but they did not, only merely took their places behind her and with their instruments. Without a word, they started up a song, complete with drums and everything.

"I do hope you enjoyed the performance tonight, no matter how mediocre it might have been." A man cheered from behind Sam, making him flinch. Aubrey smiled. "But for this final song, I need everyone's support here. Sing along if you know it, alright?"

It came to Castiel's attention that the band was playing the kind of song Dean would be blasting inside the Impala, what he called "rock" music. Castiel had never understood why the genre had been related to a stone, but decided long ago that he was better off not understanding many things.

Hopping off of the stage, Aubrey began singing: "He's got a smile that it seems to me reminds me of childhood memories, where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky."

Dean put his burger down and perked up in recognition of the song, now facing Aubrey with newfound interest.

"Now and then, when I see his face, he takes me away to that special place. And if I stared too long, I'd probably break down and cry.

"Oh," she sang, drawing out the word, and smiling widely when a good amount of the diners sang along with her. "Sweet child of mine… Oh, sweet love of mine." During the brief lapse of the lyrics, she danced along to the music, trotting up to one table and another and twirling one of the people there. Yet just as she was bringing the mic back up to her lips, she noticed Castiel there.

Now, Castiel was wholly aware of the color of his vessel's eyes. And it seemed Aubrey had taken note of this as well. "He's got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain." As she sang, she strolled up to him and leaned down, shaking her head playfully. "I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain."

Then, she faced Sam and Dean. "His hair reminds me of a warm, safe place where, as a child, I'd hide"—she ruffled Sam's hair, eliciting a surprised "Woah" from Dean—"and pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by. Oh, sweet child of mine… Oh, sweet love of mine. Guitar solo!"

A man appeared behind her and tapped her shoulder. She turned just as he started whipping his head back and forth in a crude rhythm, timing it to the beat of the song. Dean laughed out loud, and Sam smiled, while Castiel watched on in confusion. Aubrey mimicked the movements of the stranger and soon they were in sync with one another.

"Oh, sweet child of mine!" the audience sang in replacement of Aubrey. "Oh, sweet love of mine."

Aubrey tersely stopped bobbing her head and brought the mic to her lips. "Oh, sweet child of mine. Oh, oh, oh, oh, sweet love of mine…" She was still laughing when the band finally ended the song, and the diner erupted in applause and cheers. She turned and bowed to the majority of the restaurant, spreading an arm to the side. "Thank you, all! Have a good night!"

Castiel made a split second decision, before she could walk off and delay their plans again. He placed a hand on her shoulder and made her turn. Her eyes widened questioningly as she said, "Hey, what is it?" He moved his hand so that it was on her head and, concentrating, closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, he saw that her eyes had glazed over.

Sam and Dean shot to their feet, looking at her in concern. "Did you do it?" asked Dean. Castiel nodded once just as Aubrey blinked.

Her eyebrows furrowed together and she frowned at them. "Cas?" The confusion was clear on her face, and then, like a tidal wave, the rage settled in. In a split second, she had brought her fist up and punched him square in the jaw.

He recoiled, more from surprise than pain (though it still throbbed agonizingly.) Several people that were sat close by them turned, shocked, but the fire in Aubrey's eyes was not doused. Her hand wrapped around his forearm none too gently and she started dragging him to the front of the restaurant.

Not knowing what to do, Castiel glanced over his shoulder and at Sam and Dean, throwing them a pleading look. They had a brief exchange before slipping out of the booth and following after him and Aubrey, who were crossing the small hallway behind the counter and to a door.

Aubrey's relentless pace did not waver. They burst through the door and walked out into a dark, isolated alleyway. Sam and Dean followed through the door soon after, panting. Before Castiel was able to say anything, Aubrey pushed him against a wall and held him there with a firm hand, at arm's length. Her voice adopted a hard tone.

"I remember now," she said. "You don't have to explain anything. You brainwashed me and took me here without my consent."

"You would never have approved," Castiel weakly argued. "It was the only way I could keep you safe from Crowley and the Leviathans, as well as Dick."

She frowned, then, and the pressure she was applying on his shoulder lessened. "If that's your version of a dirty joke, it's not funny."

Sam and Dean took the opportunity to jump into the conversation, quickly giving the details of every event that had happened during the last year and a half. Castiel saw Aubrey's face morph into one of both sadness and anger at how long she had been separated from them; though he did not fear for himself. What he had done was wrong, but he still was not going to apologize.

As the Winchesters recounted tales of the Leviathan and Dick Roman, Castiel stared into Aubrey's soul and found the burning flame within very much intact. And it was as beautiful as ever—with the form designed similarly to the layers of a real fire, and her wings shining exuberantly like rays from the sun—but it had dimmed slightly, most probably because she had not used any of her Powers for so long. Her Phoenix-self had remained dormant for the better part of two years.

Then it occurred to him: she still did not know anything about the things she could do, her Power; perhaps one or two small modules there, but not all. He made a mental note to speak to her all about it as soon as he could.

He watched as her soul flickered when Dean explained the details of Bobby's death, his coming-back, and his ultimate downfall; then again, when Sam told her of Dean falling into Purgatory with Castiel.

She expressed her grievances and took a short while to lament Bobby's passing, but then everything afterwards was short accounts of hunts; then finally, they told her how they found her and their plan on how to uproot her life in London.

Once they were finished, Aubrey said, "Thank you," and then faced Castiel. She looked him up and down with a scrutinizing gaze, making him uncomfortable. "You're still an angel."

"… Technically, no, I am a seraph now—a higher form of heavenly being."

"All the same," she replied. "Like I told you before, I'll do my best to let you off easy. No grudges. We succeeded in what we wanted to accomplish anyway, right?" Unsure, he nodded. "But now… what's gonna happen to Aiden?"

"They have sigils on their ribs, now, and Greg and Lorraine have an anti-possession blessing that I gave. I also placed a spell that would alert me if anything ever happens to them, be it an attack by a monster, demon, or angel. I will know."

Glumly, Aubrey acknowledged, "They'll stay here."

Castiel nodded. "Yes."

For a while, they were all quiet. Castiel did not mind. He relished in the fact that Aubrey's memories had been returned to her—that she again remembered what they shared—but he also could not help but to ponder what she would do. Did she still hold the same feelings she did two years ago? Or had that dissipated due to her anger with him?

It was Dean who finally broke the silence. "Alright, come on, let's get out of here. We can talk more on the way back to America." He nodded to Cas. "Do your angel mojo in there and let's go pack up at the hotel. I wanna be out of here by tomorrow."

He walked back into the restaurant, tugging Sam along with him. Castiel made a move to follow when he felt Aubrey squeeze his elbow. Suddenly, her warm breath was fanning his ear. She said, "I hope you haven't forgotten where we left off before, because I plan on continuing as soon as possible."

In recognition of her words, he froze. She pulled her head back and chuckled lightly, walking up the steps first. Before she strolled back into the restaurant, she threw a lighthearted smirk over her shoulder and at the angel.

As the door closed behind her, obscuring her from view, Castiel felt heat rush up to his ears and most likely across his face as well. Huffing, he trailed her through the doors, feeling the familiar pang of longing settle on his chest, which was worsened by the fact that he could do what he wanted with her now—and that she favored his ideas.

Spitting Fire is over! Part of me is happy and part of me is sad.

One thing's for sure though: the ship will NOT sink! I'll put up a oneshot or two every now and again just for the fun of it, because hell will freeze over before I fall out of love with Cas HAHAHA

Thanks to everyone who stuck around! Have an awesome life (?) HAHAHA

Okay bye now