Author's Note:. Please comment if you like this story...I have ideas that could potentially make this almost a season long if it was filmed.

Just to note, this takes place a few months after Chuck and Amara reconcile. Mary Winchester wasn't brought back and there is no British Men of Letters to worry about. Chuck restored the angels their abilities to fly/teleport before he and Amara took off. Also, Three Meadows is a made up reservation and my knowledge of the Lakota language is pretty much based on google, so I apologize for that and any cultural mistakes I make.

Dean POV

"You know, Sammy, I'm getting really sick of getting tied up in dank old basements. It's the fucking desert, why is it so damp in here?" Dean growled, tugging with no result at the restrains that held him to the support opposite his brother. He knew they shouldn't have gone into Arizona of all places. These assholes had even gotten the drop on Cass and the angel was knocked out or worse in a friggin' converted dog cage in the corner. A dog cage! He hadn't said anything or moved but Dean couldn't see him to get an idea of his condition. Then they'd cheated and used some kind of mojo to take both him and Sam out pretty quick.

Though they still managed to get a few good shots in.

Probably why he got thrown down the stairs instead of led down. Dicks.

"I know Dean, me too." His brother looked around and sighed. "I think the damp is from whatever they've been growing in here. Ingredients for spells. I didn't recognize half of what we saw upstairs."

"Me either." He sighed and thumped the back of his head against the support. "This sucks."

"Wait, did you hear that?"

He looked to Sam and listened and heard what sounded like yelling and crashing. The hair on the back of his neck was standing up, they were using magic to fight again. Was someone coming to rescue them? Who the hell did they know around here that could give a decent fight against dicks like these? He knew it wasn't Crowley or Rowena, though they had been mentioned by the guys who'd tied them up. He doubted it was any angels considering Cass wasn't exactly well liked by his "brothers" and the angels liked the Winchesters even less. Nevermind the fact that the last most of them had seen Cass' vessel, it'd had Lucifer in it. Maybe it was Chuck and Amara? It'd been a couple months since that whole thing, could they be back? Why would they be bothering with an actual fight though?

Or was it someone worse looking to get to the brothers? Wouldn't be a first.

"Who do you think it is?" Sam strained against his restraints, trying to look around at the door. "Does anyone even know we're here?"

"Who the hell would we tell Sam? Everyone's either dead or hates us."

"Well that's being positive."

Just then, the door didn't so much as open as it was slammed across the basement by a body that had been thrown against it. That body then tumbled quickly down the stairs and land on the door that had come to rest on the ground. Dean smirked. It'd been the dick that slugged him before going back upstairs. Now, he looked beat to hell and close to dead. Good. Only thing that would've been better is if he'd gotten to do it himself.

He looked up at the doorway and was confused by who he saw. With the amount of force it would've taken to slam a full grown man into a heavy door hard enough to take it off it's hinges like that, he'd have expected someone big or built. Or someone with glowing blue or black eyes. Instead, it was a woman, an Indian from the look of her black hair and tan skin. She almost looked like a college student if one ignored the gore covered knife in one hand and the smear of blood on one cheek.

He looked to Sammy who looked just as confused, straining from where he was tied up to see what was going on. Who was this chick?

She was making her way down the stairs when the guy tried to get back up, hand to his side in pain, face in a grimace of hatred. He started saying something about the blood of the righteous in Latin, no doubt a nasty spell when the mystery woman interrupted him with a backhanded fist that made both brothers wince before she went right between his ribs with her knife. "Righteous this, asshole." She grunted with a twist of the knife before pulling it out and letting his body drop at her feet.

Dean was intrigued and a little turned on.

"Hi there. Sorry I'm late. I didn't get my invitation to the party." She flashed them a grin before grabbing a random dirty rag off a workbench and wiping off her knife. "A bit rude if you ask me."

She made her way over to them and Dean couldn't help but notice when she got closer that this chick was hot. She wiped at her face with a look of disgust, wiping the gore on her hand off on the wall. She was small but curvy and had a bit of a Tomb Raider vibe to her. Tight cargos with pockets and a holster strapped to one thigh that she put the knife in. She wore a tshirt that didn't hide her figure in the least with a button up, now streaked with blood. She managed the college student vibe but looked strong, able to fight too. A fellow hunter?

"We weren't formally invited ourselves." He quipped. She might be hot but considering the last hot chick turned out to be the polar opposite cosmic sister of god, he was keeping his cards close. There was no way to know if she was even a good guy. Good girl. Chick. Whatever.

"Fellow party crashers? Nice." She gave him a smile before looking at his bindings. "Might have been a good idea to have backup though. They warded these so you couldn't wiggle your way out or use a lockpick. Here, I can undo it." He couldn't see her face but he could hear her chanting something that almost sounded Enochian but not completely before a warm rush went over him and the bindings fell off. "There you go."

"You don't have backup." He rotated his shoulder while gently probing at his face to make sure that last punch he'd gotten hadn't broken anything. Gotta think of the goods, especially with a hot chick around.

She gave him a raised eyebrow and a smirk worthy of a Winchester. "Honey, I don't need backup."

She moved over to Sam who was giving her the same guarded look he was sure he had on his own face. She chanted again and the clank of the bindings was heard before she stood back up and Sam moved his arms so he could rub at his wrists. "Thanks."

The woman began to say what Dean assumed would be you're welcome when her eyes looked past them and to the cage that Cass had been thrown in. Her eyes narrowed, her head moving forward like that tiny movement could give her a better view and then those eyes widened dramatically. He noticed they were a light brown, almost a hazel. "Castiel? Holy crap, Castiel!" She rushed forward, dropping to her knees outside the cage, her hands yanking at the door that must have been warded too if someone like her couldn't pry it open with her hands. "Castiel, can you hear me? Dammit, what did they do to you?"

Dean shared a look of shock with his brother. Now he really wanted to know who this chick was and how the hell she knew Cass. He nodded to where the assholes had tossed their gear, namely some holy water and angel blades. Sam carefully and slowly backed up to them while Dean moved forward to where the woman had her hands over the lock to the cage and was desperately chanting, almost singing. Over the years he'd gotten pretty decent at recognizing various dead languages and thanks to the angel in the cage, the sound of the angel language, Enochian.

"What kind of magic is that? What language? You speak angel?" He needed to keep her distracted, hopefully to the benefit of getting Cass free so Sam could get their weapons. He doubted she was a demon since she seemed so concerned for Cass but then again, Meg had fallen or whatever for the angel, so anything was possible. Whoever she was, she knew enough about angels to speak their language somewhat.

"In a minute. They warded this tight." She took a deep breath before turning and looking at him. "You might want to back up."

He took a step back as she turned back to the lock, putting a hand behind himself to take the knife Sam pressed into it and tuck it up his sleeve before palming the bottle of holy water. Whatever or whoever she was, they had to be smart and not just blindly trust her because she was hot and she saved them. She might have just been mad those assholes got them before she did.

"Dean, look at her hands." Sam whispered.

He looked to see a bright light as she chanted a bit louder, again, almost singing the words. If he didn't pick out what sounded like a blend of Latin and Enochian, he'd think she was singing some Indian song. The light nearly encompassed her hands before she let out a final wail and there was a deep thrum that vibrated through the ground and the door to the cage holding Cass fell in.

She yanked the door out, sliding it across the floor with a grunt before all but crawling inside instead of getting back up just to drop back down by the angel's side. "Castiel?" Her hands moved to his face and chest, a practiced gesture looking for wounds. Not finding any, she turned and looked to them. Now instead of the badass Tomb Raider chick, she almost looked shocked, thrown off balance. "The cage is just a regular dog cage again, can you lift it off? I don't want to move him yet."

They hesitated and she noticed right away. Shit. "I'm not here to hurt any of you, especially one of the friggin' angels who isn't a complete waste of wings. Come on!"

He shared a look with Sam before deftly tucking the bottle of holy water in his back pocket and adjusting the blade in his sleeve so he didn't accidentally stab himself. He took one side and Sam took the other and they easily lifted the cage off their angel friend and the mystery woman. "What's wrong with him? How do you know Cass?" Sam asked after they put the cage down.

"It's complicated but pretty much the same way you know him, I'm guessing. I'm what you all would probably call a hunter. I'm also guessing that if you two are with him then you must be the Winchesters. Small world." She sounded a little sad and something else. Jealous? "As for what's wrong with him? I think it's a spell. One the ancients created to try and trap angels within vessels, making it so they burn through and are forced to move on. A way to dissuade anyone who might agree to being a vessel." She gave them a look. "You weren't the first to realize that a good number of angels are pretentious douchebags. That's been known since everything began. I'm going to try something but I'm guessing you want to make sure I'm not a demon or a monster first."

She stood, with a noticeable tender look to Cass before rolling up her sleeve, revealing a tanned arm with a few scars but nowhere near as many as a regular hunter would have. Dean barely remembered all the stories behind all of his scars, let alone the ones lost to angel healings and returning from the dead and being a demon however briefly. "A hunter with no scars?"

"I know healing spells and you aren't the only ones who've had a little angelic boost from time to time. Wouldn't exactly be able to keep a low profile if I looked like I'd walked out of hell on a regular basis. Come on, give me a slice with that angel blade you have tucked up your sleeve and then you can either splash me with the holy water in your pocket or I can drink it. Your choice."

"How did..." Sam asked baffled. Not just did she know the ways of identifying and that an angel blade was as good as either iron or silver, but she knew about the damn blade up his sleeve and the water in his pocket! He looked to Sam who just shrugged. No use in denying it.

"You wouldn't be the famed Winchesters or the adopted sons of Bobby Singer if you didn't arm yourselves the second I had my back to you. It's alright. Go ahead."

Dean let the blade drop like he'd seen it drop from Cass' trenchcoat so many times and cut her forearm quick in case this was a trick. The only sign of pain she showed was a clenching of her jaw. Sam used his own bottle of holy water and simply poured it over the wound. No reaction.

"I'm human, boys. Well mostly. Like I said, it's complicated. I'm a friendly, okay? Now I'm going to help Castiel and I need you not to freak."

"Wait a second sister, why would we freak?"

"Because you tend to shoot first, from the stories I've heard. Now let me help him."

Another look with Sam and Dean nodded, stepping back and wiping the woman's blood from the blade. A friendly who wasn't entirely human, who knew Cass and knew who they were, was some kind of hunter and spoke the language of angels? He was getting a headache. Or the concussion was setting in.

What he hadn't expected was for the woman's light brown eyes to start glowing. They didn't go the bright blue that Cass' did when he "flapped his wings" as Dean liked to say whenever the angel made extra use of his powers, but they were definitely glowing. Sam pointed out something that almost looked like the shadow of...wings?

"Are you a freakin' angel?"

"No, just bound with one. Now shut up and let me work." She all but growled out, her voice having a faint echoing sound. This time, she put one hand on Cass' forehead and another on his chest. This time there was no singing or chanting. She murmured something and then both her hands glowed bright and the thrum happened again.

Cass gasped, his eyes shooting open and bright blue. It worked.

He moved to sit up but the woman put both hands on his chest. She looked a little winded from whatever she had done and briefly closed her eyes "Easy, Castiel. Careful."

His eyes dimmed to their vessel normal blue and his more than normal look of confusion took his face. "Briathos?" He sounded genuinely puzzled.

"No sweetheart. Not entirely. It's me, Gwen Dancing Bird. Do you remember me?"

He blinked at her before his eyes widened in recognition and he surprised both brothers by yanking her into a strong hug. "I do remember you, little one. I've known you before you were you." He had a soft smile on his face, one of his hands cradling the back of her head. He almost looked content with his eyes closed that way.

Ok, alright. Dean was having just about enough of not knowing what was going on. He was just about to say something when Sam put his hand on his arm and shook his head. Fine. He'd wait. For now.

The woman, Gwen whatever, laughed and hugged him back with an easy affection. "Scared me for a minute, old man. Come on, let's get you out of here and somewhere more comfortable." She turned and looked at them, Cass' arm still around her shoulders, his eyes looking at her like he couldn't get enough. "Let's go upstairs, okay? I'll explain."

"Yeah you are definitely going to do that." Dean grumped, not liking this situation at all. He hated being in the dark about the few people in this world he was close to. How come Cass had never mentioned this woman to them? Why was he so happy to see her yet he never talked about her? "Cass, you alright buddy?"

Cass stood with a little help and then straightened himself out. "Yes, Dean. The spell they used on me is what you would call a whammy." He paused and his shoulders slumped a little. "Please don't look at me like that. You can trust Gwen. All will be explained. Are you alright? Sam?"

"We're okay, Cass. We were worried about you."

"Thank you. Let's get out of this basement."

Gwen POV

Gwen let the taller brother lead the way upstairs with Castiel right behind her and the other brother behind him. She couldn't blame Dean for not trusting her but she was surprised at just how much anger he had within him. He was very protective of Castiel and his brother, she could see that. It was something he got from his father and from Bobby. Had all the stories she heard been true? What happened to that boy she'd briefly met so many years ago?

Then again, she wasn't the same girl she had been then either.

She was a bit in shock realizing that the people she'd managed to rescue were the infamous Winchester boys. It'd been a long time since she'd seen them but they'd managed to amass quite the legend among fellow hunters, angels, demons and everything in between. From releasing Lucifer to stopping the Apocalypse, to being declared dead more than once and more. And she had rescued them. A nice coup for her.

"Gwen, you're bleeding." Castiel's voice stopped her as they entered the kitchen, one room that wasn't damaged by the fight with the warlocks. It looked like a typical kitchen in any house in the country. A table and chairs near a window with light green curtains and the usual counters and cabinets and appliances. Her instincts told her that whoever the house belonged to wasn't the men she'd killed and they probably weren't going to be around to reclaim it. "Let me."

"No, Castiel. I'm fine." She gave him a gentle smile before moving to the sink to rinse the cut again and dab it dry with a paper towel before putting her hand over it and chanting under her breath, causing it to heal enough so it wasn't open and bleeding anymore. She preferred to let her body do most of the work of healing when she could. "Sit down, let your vessel rest."

"Enough. Who are you? What are you?" Dean interrupted, his voice serious and stern even as Castiel made a point of touching him with his fingertips and healing him. He'd taken a seat at the kitchen table, the chair pushed back so it was against the wall, giving him full view of the room and what could be seen out the window. He probably didn't even consciously do it. He silently gave Castiel a nod before the angel went and did the same to Sam and then took a seat. How many times had he healed them over the years?

Gwen sighed deciding to address the giant tatanka in the room. "I understand your distrust, Dean. Believe it or not, we've actually met before. You too." She looked up at the taller Winchester. Sam had been through just as much as Dean if not more from the stories she heard and yet she didn't feel the anger coming off of him like it did from Dean. Why? "Last time I saw you though, I didn't have to look up at you. You grew up well, Sammy."

"Don't you call him that." Dean snapped, his eyes hard and narrow. He was still protective of his brother who now was bigger than him. Not a surprise. Her mother had commented on how protective the older brother was, even all those years ago when they were still children.

"Dean! Would you just stop?" Sam admonished with a tired tone. So he was the more reasonable one? "I'm sorry, I don't remember you."

"It's not surprising. You were maybe 8 or 9 when we met." She looked to Dean who had a furrowed brow. "Bobby and your father brought you boys on a hunt to the Three Meadows reservation in Montana for a Wendigo. Was around 1992 I guess maybe later?" She looked back to Sam, or more exact, looked up at him. "You were so interested in life on the Rez. It was different from anything you'd experienced. You were constantly asking questions about a culture you weren't taught about at all in school. You all but gorged yourself on my grandmother's fry bread."

It was something to see his eyes light up with recognition. "Oh my god, I remember! She was a small and sarcastic as hell and she liked Wheel of Fortune. Your grandmother...she was a medicine woman?" He was a little hesitant at the end, no doubt hoping he wasn't being offensive.

Gwen nodded, impressed with the way he leapt logically to the conclusion. "That's as good a word for it as any. She wasn't in the fight anymore, my mother had taken it up but she still had enough power to protect you while the rest of us went after the wendigo." She looked to Dean. "You insisted on being able to help. Your father...he wasn't..."

"Dad was having a bad time then. It was around '95." Dean's voice was gruff and bitter, as if he'd apologized for his father so many times that it was wearing on him. And as if he didn't think his father had the excuses he thought he had.

"It was after the death of a fellow hunter. That much I understand. It's never easy to lose a friend. He didn't want our help and we didn't exactly want his. It was far from our first time dealing with something like that but he was adamant on taking on the creature by himself and wasn't very diplomatic."

"Jo's father?" Sam spoke up, getting a nod of affirmation from Dean. That must have been the hunter who died. "What do you mean not diplomatic?"

Gwen sighed. "Words were said, threats given. He calmed down after I knocked him on his ass for insulting my father's memory and threatening my mother." She didn't like to think about that night because it put such a stain on the memory of a man who ended up saving so many lives as a hunter and training two men who'd do the same on a near global scale.

Sam looked shocked and a bit impressed while recognition came over Dean's face. "Oh shit. I can't believe I forgot that."

"Yeah. I remember thinking you were so brave when you stood up to him. But the way he knocked you aside and the things he said." She shook her head. She understood the man was racked with guilt for the death of his friend but it was far from an excuse to be an asshole on someone else's turf or cruel to your child who idolized you. "I was sorry to hear of his passing. He was a good man, troubled but good."

"Dad hit you, Dean?"

"Come on Sammy, wasn't the first time and it wasn't the last. I was being a punk, trying to show off for the girl." He stood up from where he'd been sitting and held out a hand. "Sorry for being a dick. Thank you, for helping us. Then and now."

Gwen smiled and took the offered hand before pulling on it and hugging the gruff hunter. A handshake simply wouldn't do. He stiffened at first but relaxed a little and hugged her back awkwardly. It made her sad that his instinct was to pull away. "You wouldn't be a good hunter if you weren't on your guard. I'm glad I was here to help." She turned and gestured to Sam who'd been leaning against the wall. "Come down here so I don't have to embarrass myself by stepping on a chair to hug you please."

That made the younger hunter smile, a smile that reached his eyes much more easily than it did his brother's. He leaned down and she hugged him, her mind flashing back to when he'd been smaller than her and so eager to learn. His hug wasn't as stiff either telling her that Dean had a much harder time with trust and affection than his brother.

"Okay. Good. The energy in the room is so much better now." She took a deep cleansing breath before opening up the fridge and finding what she hoped for, namely cold bottles of water in among the harvested spell ingredients. These people had been busy. "Here. Castiel, drink for the sake of your vessel, after that spell."

The angel nodded, taking the offered water while she tossed bottles to the two Winchesters. The Great Spirit certainly had a strange way of bringing their lives back together. "Yes, thank you." She ruffled his hair and gave him a smile, the little girl in her excited to see her friend again. The older part of her having so many questions that she wasn't entirely sure she wanted the answers to. He was quiet and she wondered how much of that was him trying to figure out how to explain it.

"Okay, Gwen, we know who you are now, at least how we first met. How do you know Cass?"

She took a seat at the table and took a long drink before answering. "Easy. Castiel was my guardian angel. Well, for a Lakota it was more of my guardian spirit, but tomato, tomato."

"Wait, what?" Dean looked confused. "I thought this was your first vessel?"

"It is Dean. When we first met I told you there are people who have the ability to see and hear my true form. Gwen is one of those people. Like a prophet of the lord must be protected, so many of these individuals are paired with angels to help them adjust to...the extra perception." He took a drink of the water.

"So you've seen Cass without a vessel and you still have your eyes?"

Gwen grinned. "A few times. It's hard to explain. My family comes from a long line of what you would call hunters but it's much more than that. We're able to perceive more of the world around us and learn from very early on how to use our gifts to help and protect others. Castiel usually spoke to me without form or as a form of weather. Remember when I asked if the wind blew because you flapped your wings?"

Castiel nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. His eyes, the eyes of his vessel anyway, were bright.

"What kind of gifts?" Dean asked with a suspicious tone.

"True sight for one. I can see the real faces of demons, angels, you name it. Ghosts are easier for me to perceive and auras too. I can do what you would call magic, white magic. It's more about using the energy of the land and the elements than anything else." She shrugged, pointing out essentially the tip of the iceberg. "Stuff like that."

"Is that how you were able to revive Cass before and beat up those dicks? I'm guessing they were witches or wizards or something."

"Partly. I'm able to use magic a bit more easily than most. And please, call them warlocks or anything else. I love Harry Potter too much to refer to them as wizards. What they were doing here was dark magic. Dark enough to panic a psychic friend of mine into begging me to come down here. When I sensed an angelic presence, I knew something bad was going down."

"Cass called you Briathos when he woke up. What does that mean?" Sam asked with the same curious nature he'd had as a boy.

"When the heavens were closed and the angels fell, my people and I were able to help shelter more than one that had been hurt in The Fall." She remembered nearly the entire Rez fanning out to try and get to where they thought they could find one. "One of the three that had survived had been Briathos. She was a warrior angel, known for fighting demons. One of my friends served as her vessel while she healed and we worked together to protect the Rez and all we could during that chaotic time."

She saw Castiel's head drop and reached out, touching his hand. It was strange in a way to see him in a vessel but at the same time, it suited him. The trench coat was a particularly nice touch. "It wasn't your fault, Castiel. Bria knew that, quite a few angels knew that even if they didn't admit it. If the Scribe hadn't used you, he would have hurt someone else to get what he wanted." It had broken her heart when Bria and a few other angels had told her of what had happened to Castiel since she'd last seen him as a child. She was glad to see that he'd gotten his grace back.

"Too many angels died and were killed because I blindly trusted Metatron. That is my fault."

She sighed. "And many of those angels did nothing to do what they were meant to do, protect and serve humanity. You've sacrificed more than they ever did or ever will and for the right reasons."

"So what happened to Briathos?" Dean questioned. She couldn't help but notice him give the angel a quick supportive shoulder squeeze. Good, Castiel had friends.

"The Darkness came. She said was looking for her brother, but really she was just seeking souls that burned brighter than most to assist her power." Gwen took a deep breath. "She tore through the Rez like she was Custer. We lost nearly twenty people including two who were vessels for the other two angels we'd been harboring. My mother..." She swallowed, the pain still sharp after many months. "My mother distracted her so Bria and I could do a spell to try and expel her from the Rez." She pushed away the memory that haunted her, watching that black dress wearing, washitu looking thing holding her mother by her throat after her failed attack before consuming her soul and then throwing her so hard against the tribal post office that it killed her instantly. To others it had looked like a beautiful woman but what she saw was just literally Darkness.

Now Castiel put his hand over hers. "Your mother was a brave woman to do such a thing, Gwen. I'm sorry."

Gwen nodded, taking a deep cleansing breath. To die in defense of the Rez, of her family was not a bad death, she knew that. She'd almost followed her mother to the Happy Hunting Grounds minutes after she'd been killed. "She really was. The Darkness took her but Bria and I were able to expel her with a blood sigil. We nearly killed ourselves doing it. Her vessel, my friend Angela, was almost completely destroyed and I was in a bad way. Angela was already gone so the only way to save both of us was the Inatake Ritual via Blessing Way."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Iho inyu tate inatake ile." She said easily in Lakota. "It means Behold the anointed bond of wind and light."

At the still confused looks of the brothers, Castiel spoke up. "To save them both, Briathos melded her being with Gwen's. Instead of using Gwen as a vessel, she melded her grace with her very cells to save them both."

"In a way." Gwen said softly, missing being able to talk to Bria. "She sacrificed herself to save me. I have a sense of her and some of her memories and gifts. But she's not a conscious part of me." She paused. "It's why my eyes are lighter. I used to have dark brown eyes, Bria lightened them up I guess."

"Wait, you can do that?" Dean said incredulously. "That doesn't break some stupid angel law about mixing with the monkeys downstairs?"

Castiel sighed, apparently used to Dean's blunt way of speaking. "It's not law so much as just how things are meant to be. Most angels would not approve. I, however, see it as a noble action of a brave angel."

"You said memories too? Like what?" Sam interrupted, apparently intrigued.

She smirked. It was one of the stranger aspects of the whole thing. "I have a vague memory, believe it or not, of dinosaurs. Totally ruined Jurassic Park for me. And the pyramids when they were brand new. If you think they are something else now, you should have seen them then."

"Do you have wings?"

"Dean!" Sam said exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.

"What? We saw a shadow when you were healing Cass. Do you or do you not have wings?"

Gwen couldn't help but smile a little and could see a twinkle of amusement in Castiel's eyes. She appreciated Dean's blunt but simple question. "I don't have wings like Castiel does. I can move pretty quick though, tapping into the angelic part or aspect, whatever you want to call it. Almost like teleporting across short distances but not. It takes a lot of out me. I try not to use it if I can help it. Brings the wrong kind of attention." She tilted her head and did the opposite, to get a glimpse of her old childhood guardian beyond his vessel. "Speaking of wings, yours have seen better days, old man."

That was putting it very lightly. She reached out and touched them very gently, able to thanks to her simple ability to be able to perceive them. Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion and she knew it was because to him, it looked like she was running her hand over the thin air just above Castiel's shoulder. She wondered if it was an unusual feeling for him or if he liked it like Bria had. She'd explained that it was the angelic version of affection.

Castiel shrugged, turning a little to almost push his wing into her hand before sitting back. She noted that it was a comfort to him and filed it away mentally for later. "It's been a difficult few years. They look better now than they did a few months ago."

Better? They could look worse?

"Is it true...the Morning Star had your vessel?"

She noticed that Dean's face closed at the mention of Lucifer while a side glance at Sam saw a flash of fear but then a practiced neutral expression. She'd heard of how they'd adverted the Apocalypse and Sam being thrown into hell from Bobby. She couldn't blame him for still having that gut reaction now. She didn't want to even imagine what he'd experienced as Lucifer's vessel and then being trapped in the cage with him.

"Yes, it is true. He was cast out by Amara. By The Darkness. I have been endeavoring to locate him since."

"I wish I could help but I haven't heard anything to be honest." She took a breath. "You were the ones who stopped her? Was she killing the sun?" She remembered how she hadn't even cared at that point, she'd been in such mourning for her mother, Angela and the others the Darkness had taken. She'd blamed herself for not stopping The Darkness before she'd taken so many lives. It was amazing to think that the two boys she'd known all those years ago had saved the world or possibly existence from the sound of things.

"No, she nearly killed Chuck, that's what was killing the sun." Dean said cryptically. "They reconciled and that brought everything back to balance."

"Chuck? Who's that?"

"Chuck Shurley. Well, you might know him as Carver Edlund." Sam explained. "Or as god."

She turned completely in her seat. "What in the name of the Great Spirit are you talking about? What does the guy who wrote those Twilight like books have to do with anything? What do you mean god?"

"God was using Carver as an alias. We managed to convince him to take on his sister, The Darkness and she nearly killed him and then they reconciled. It was a whole thing." Sam tried to explain. "It's complicated."

"Wait, the bitch that killed my mother is the sister of the Great Spirit? I mean god, whatever? What about all the people she killed? That just got forgiven?"

"Gwen, please." Castiel put his hand over her arm again to get her attention. "Amara didn't kill your mother in the sense that she ceased to exist. All the souls she took were released to where they were destined to go. I assure you, she's in heaven."

"And Angela? And the 17 other people she killed on the Rez? What about what Bria had to do? I nearly died because of a brother sister spat?"

"If it makes you feel any better, I nearly had to be a suicide bomber to try and take Amara out." Dean spoke up after an awkward bit of silence, scratching at the back of his neck in an unconscious anxious tell. "Had a couple hundred thousand souls right here, was going to blow her out of existence. Hell, over the last few years Sammy and I nearly died more than once because of the angels and their little family squabble. Supposed to be the vessels so Lucifer and Michael could duke it out."

Gwen put her hand to her head. All this talk of the bitch that killed her mother and friends like she was just some kind of regular job type monster made her queasy. "This is giving me a headache."

"Why don't we get out of here then? We'll get rid of the bodies tomorrow. Are you already staying somewhere?" Sam spoke up. "We came right here around dawn."

She turned to the younger man. "Pretty much the same as you guys. My friend Dane called me almost in tears begging me to come down here to stop a blood sacrifice that would split the heavens or something like that."

"Thanks again, for that." Dean spoke up. "Should we come back here later, poke around and see what we can find?"

"Sounds good to me. I think with Castiel's help, we can ward the house so no one thinks to try and check it out or anything."

Castiel nodded. "Of course."