No One's POV

"Okay Cas, spill. What did she want? Who is this chick anyways?" Dean promptly demands directly after the second angel disappears.

Other than Cas, in his opinion all angels were feathered, spineless, dickheads that only cared about themselves. He did not trust this angel and he definitely didn't trust her intentions; her timing was too suspicious to be anything but bad news, at least in his opinion.

More than that, it was something about her presence itself that made him uneasy, more than uneasy. Though he generally hated the presence of any other feathered assholes, other than Cas, most other angels simply annoyed him, but her presence put his entire body on edge, agitated in a way that his hunter instincts screamed at him to do something.

"Spill?" Castiel questions, clearly confused. "There is no spil-"

"I mean- never mind, Cas. Just, what did she want, Cas?" Dean sighs, waving his hand off, too impatient to explain the human idiom to his angelic friend.

"There is nothing to worry about, Dean. Commander Sariel has offered to help, to aid me in the war against Raphael. She is an ally. With her the war can be won. She will set Heaven right, as it should be." Castiel replies, his expression turning light, hopeful, and encouraged by what he had just said.

"Okay, fine. So this 'Commander Sariel' chick is an ally. But what can she do? She is only one angel. Raphael is an Archangel." Dean is clearly skeptical and cautions; you could say it was his hunter instinct to not trust the supernatural, or his past experiences. Either way, the last thing he wanted was Castiel to get himself into trouble because he trusted someone he shouldn't have, Castiel was family after all.

"You do not understand, Dean. Commander Sariel is the most powerful and highest ranking angel of Heaven and of all the celestial bodies. There is none higher nor more powerful than her, even the Archangels could not rival her strength and might. She leads and commands the Seraphim, the highest ranking and most fierce angels in our hierarchy. Their power and might is incomprehensible and incomparable. As a fledgling, I heard stories of their great battles, quests, and heroics. If she is willing to fight in this war, her legion will follow without fail." He says with strong conviction, seemingly awe struck and reverent as well.

"Okay, so Commander Sariel is super powerful and badass, practically a legend, blah, blah. I get that. But do you really know her intentions, Cas? I mean if she is as powerful as you claim, what's to say she won't suddenly turn and try to take Heaven for her own gain once Raphael is out of the picture?" Dean points out, Castiel's supposed "reassurance" not really reassuring Dean at all; in fact it was doing the exact opposite.

"You do not need to worry, Dean. I assure you, Commander Sariel's intentions are good. She only wishes to see Heaven restored to its former glory. To right the wrong of the Archangels. Heaven will be as it once was." He replies without blinking and without thought; as he once had when he had been under Michael's thumb.

"Okay, she may say that, but how do you really know that, Cas? What happens after the war is won?" Dean continues to push for more information. "What does that mean? Heaven will be as it once was?"

"I just know, Dean. She told me of her intentions. She is a Seraphim. She will help to restore Heaven and right the wrongs of the Archangels. What else do I need to know? It is not my place to question her." He says solemnly, his words striking an unnerving chord in Dean's mind. He was acting once again like a mindless soldier, never questioning his orders, not thinking for himself. What had she done to him?

"Cas, man, why are you acting like this? What did she do to you man!? Did she do some angel mojo and brainwash you? This isn't you, Cas! Since when do you say 'it is not my place to question her'? I swear to God, I'm going to find her and stick an angel blade so far-" Dean begins to rant a bit aggressively only to be cut off by Castiel, in return, aggressively pushing him against the wall, expression hard and unforgiving, blue eyes ice cold.

"Do not threaten Commander Sariel, Dean. It would be unwise to do so in my presence again. I am only sharing this information with you because I thought you would be pleased to hear it. I was wrong." He states, his grace now blazing through his eyes.

"Okay- okay. I- I'm just concerned about you okay? This isn't you." Dean emphasizes the last part as he remains pinned under Castiel's weight, choosing not to struggle, it wouldn't do much anyways, as an angel, a Seraph, Cas was a thousand times stronger, despite his vessel's less than strikingly strong looks.

"There is nothing to be concerned about, Dean. I am fine. This is good news. I must leave now, I have other business to attend to." Castiel only says, now stepping away.

"Cas-" Dean sighs, worried and a bit disappointed, but in a blink of an eye and flutter of wings Castiel was gone, Dean's body dropping with a light thud from the wall.

"Damn it!"

Contrary to what people believed, Hell was not burning fiery pits of damnation or fire, sulfur, and brimstone, it was actually more of a temperate temperature, demons weren't complete monsters; that was not to say Hell wasn't… Hell… But, under Crowley's reign, it was must more civilized and smooth running, he was a business man after all; he liked order, direction, a little civilized sophistication.

Castiel had been to Hell more than he cared to admit, particularly once he had agreed to work with the new King of Hell to open Purgatory and secure the souls to win the Heavenly Civil War; it wasn't something he particularly enjoyed, the deal or working with Crowley, but desperate times called for desperate measures… Or… That was what Dean often said. And, well, Castiel had been pretty desperate, despite all his power it still hadn't been enough so far to fight against Raphael.

The new discussion he had just come from with Sariel, High Commander Sariel, an angel that he himself had only heard of a few times in his younger years as a fledgling, a bed time story, a myth, a legend greater than he, gave him a glimmer of hope for the future of Heaven that he hadn't had previously.

"Well hello there, Castiel." Crowley turns to look at the Seraph. "What brings you to my little nook of the world?"

"I have something to discuss with you, Crowley." Castiel answers, his tone direct, but despite his tone, he fidgets slightly under Crowley's gaze, his wings twitching ever so slightly as if to display his discomfort.

"Well then." Crowley offers back, dusting off his hands from his work and turning to look at Castiel. "Let's hear it…" Crowley gestures.

"Our deal to open Purgatory must end." Castiel promptly responds.

"Wait a second, Giraffe-" Crowley protests.

"That is all I have to say." Castiel moves to leave.

"Now, wait just a bloody second!" Crowley demands, his tone impatient. "You can't just say something like that without a good explanation." Crowley protests. "We had a deal."

"Yes, we did… But now I no longer need your assistance." Castiel answers plainly, turning back to look at the King of Hell.

"And why is that?" Crowley growls, annoyed at Castiel's lack of explanation. "If you have something to say… Say it. Plain and simple."

Castiel once again seems to fidget, wings twitching slightly behind him; Castiel was unsure if Commander Sariel wanted her presence to be known yet.

"What, bee in your bonnet, Castiel?" Crowley questions, his tone slightly sarcastic, yet at the same time almost concerned; Crowley, despite his status as the new King of Hell, the former King of the Crossroads, and in general, a demon, he wasn't actually heartless. And, despite also being in general, on opposites sides of the Seraph and his two menaces in plaid, he had come to respect them, and dare he say care for them in his own sort of way.

"Because I have found assistance in the Heavenly Civil War elsewhere." Castiel asks. "I do not need to explain myself to you, King of Hell… The deal to open Purgatory is over."

"Well…" Crowley huffs, dusting off his hands and jacket of imaginary dust. "I suppose that changes things."

"Yes." Castiel answers.

"I suppose cleaning up your messes won't be too much of a loss for me." Crowley says with a nonchalant shrug. "And, this alliance, of sorts, was bound to end sooner or later…" Crowley adds.

"I suppose I should wish you good luck with your new… Whatever it is you're doing… We weren't totally awful to work with, Giraffe." Crowley offers.

"Yes… Well… You too. Good… Luck…" Castiel offers awkwardly, his tone stilted as if he doesn't completely understand human customs before disappearing.