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Sam hated Halloween.

He felt justified. There were real monsters out in the world, after all, and here people were, dressing up as if they were just there, taunting the very things that lived and breathed to eat them alive.

He opened the door to their motel room, only to immediately see the back of an unfamiliar man wearing a trenchcoat immediately within his line of sight.

"Who are you?" he yelled, raising his gun.

"Sam, wait!" Harry yelled, standing and raising a hand. "Merlin, I'd thought you were better than your brother, but apparently not by much."

Sam lowered his weaponed, chagrined. Dean was glaring between Harry and the other man. "Castiel."

"Dean," the man—angel—acknowledged. There didn't seem to much emotion in his voice, just a deep baritone. Sam's eyes widened and he couldn't help the look of awe that stole over his face, but both Dean and Harry ignored him. Castiel did too, at that.

Dean turned to look at the other man, standing in the window. "You, I don't know. Why don't you start identifying before I start shooting?"

"Apparently Winchesters do learn their lessons," Harry muttered. "I just met him myself." He held up the remains of a hex bag. "Weren't for him, you'd be witch-food, though, so I suppose that's something."

"Points for him, then," Dean grumbled. "Still doesn't tell us much at all."

"He's here to help us stop the raising of Samhain," Castiel said. "As is Master Black."

"Have you stopped it?" The other angel said, his voice much deeper, much more clipped.

"Dean," Castiel said, his voice much more urgent. "Have you located the witch?"

"Yes, we've located the witch." Dean answered with a tolerance not many received these days, but there was something in his words that alerted Harry. He stood and flitted quickly to Cas's side, standing at his shoulder and staring at Dean with piercing eyes.

"And is the witch dead?"

"No, but—" Sam tried.

"We know who it is," Dean finished, sounding more sure. He was harsher than Sam could have been, speaking to an angel, much more so.

"Well, the hex bag would imply that the witch knows you're hunters. She wouldn't have gone to this trouble for FBI agents," Harry pointed out. "I'd get cracking."

"Easy for you to say."

"It is, really. I just form words," Harry said, tapping his fingers on his wand thing. He glanced between the angels. "Look. I'm here because Samhain is one of the Seals—you swore to stop the Apocalypse, or you'd die. I swore to keep you topside. Therefore, whenever you get wrapped up in keeping one of the Seals, well, sealed, so do I. Savvy?"

"So this is about Lucifer," Sam said softly. "You don't care about Samhain, or the people dying because of the witch—you care about Lucifer."

"Lucifer cannot rise," Castiel said. "Our focus must remain where it is. The breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs."

"Okay. Great. Well, now that you're here, why don't you tell us where the witch is? We'll gank her, and everybody goes home," Dean said. So simple.

Sam could tell that Castiel wasn't going to allow him to think that simply; he thought even Dean could tell that it wasn't going to be so simple. He wondered, perhaps, if Castiel even had feelings. Shouldn't angels have feelings?

"We are not omniscient. This witch is very powerful. She's cloaked even to our methods."

"Okay, well, we already know who she is. So, if we work together—"

"Enough of this." Uriel had begun to speak, interrupting Sam, interrupting probably the thoughts of anyone in the room. His voice was deep, and powerful enough to call to attention anyone even when speaking at such a low volume.

"Who are you and why should we care?" Dean yelled. Apparently not everyone.

"This is Uriel. He's what you might call…a specialist," Castiel said. He sounded afraid of him, himself.

Harry tilted his head to one side, staring at him. "Death has his hand on you, Uriel. I feel him. He is repelled by you, and yet he must send his reapers to follow you wherever you walk." He shivered. "Why, I must ask?"

Sam stared at Black in horror, his eyes slowly drifting to the suited angel, standing with his hands clasped. He drew himself up as he prepared to answer, staring the small man down.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked, his voice hoarse.

"You—both of you, you need to leave this town immediately," Castiel answered, turning from the other angel. Harry was staring at him in horror. Why was he there? Sam wondered. If they were leaving, why was Harry necessary?

"Why?"

"Because we're about to destroy it."

Harry scrambled away from Castiel, raising his wand and his left hand with the ring around his finger toward the other angel. Both looked to be defensive reactions, and he was hissing, his face contorted. Dean spoke when it seemed that he was too furious to form real words.

"You're just going to smite the whole frigging town?" he asked, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. It was a sign of how furious Black was with the angels that he ignored Dean instead of kicking him in tender areas.

"We're out of time."

"I refuse to believe that Death agreed to this," Harry hissed. "I refuse."

"He did not." Uriel's voice sounded more displeased with that statement than he did with the fact that he was going to kill a thousand people that evening. "He refused. That is why you have seen no reapers in the area."

Harry paused. "That's why you needed me. It wasn't because of these two—it was because you wanted me to take care of the souls. You bastards."

Castiel flinched, Sam noticed, but Uriel showed nothing.

"This witch has to die. The seal must be saved."

"There are a thousand people here," Sam pointed out, his voice soft.

"One thousand, two hundred, fourteen," Uriel rattled off.

"And you're willing to kill them all?" Sam asked.

"And have me shuffle them along to the afterlife with nothing more than a pat on the back," Harry added.

Uriel shook his head. "This is the first time I've…purified a city."

"Look, I understand this is regrettable." Castiel turned to Dean.

"Regrettable?"

"We have to hold the line," he emphasized. Harry snorted. "Too many seals have been broken already."

"So you screwed the pooch on some seals and now this town has to pay the price?"

"It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion."

"War tactics," Harry muttered. "I've seen them too many times. I never thought I'd have to see them again. I refuse to accept that."

"Lucifer cannot rise."

"No, but that doesn't mean we can't try something else," Harry said, stepping to meet Castiel. "We're going to try something else."

"We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone," Sam said, desperate. "Your seal won't be broken, and no one has to die."

"We're wasting time with these mud monkeys," Uriel growled.

"I'm sorry. We have our orders."

"No, you can't do this. You're—you're angels," Sam said, shaking his head. He couldn't believe this.

"We have no choice."

"Of course you have a choice," Dean said, glaring at Castiel. It seemed he wasn't as faithless as Sam had thought. "I mean, come on, you've never, never questioned a crap order, what? What, are you both, just a couple of hammers?"

"Look, even if you can't understand it, have faith the plan is just."

"How can you even say that?"

"Have you been having tea with Dumbledore lately?" Harry accused, snapping his wand in Castiel's direction. "I followed directions blindly. Look how well that worked out for me."

Dean smirked. "Sorry boys. Looks like the plans have changed."

Castiel's eyes widened, and he shifted backward. "Think you can stop us?" Uriel asked.

"No," Dean answered, shaking his head. "But if you're going to smite this whole town, you're going to have to smite us with it, because we are not leaving."

"Plus, you know, they've got me." Harry was studying his ring. "And you kind of need me for this plan." He shrugged. "Just, you know, an FYI."

Not my best work, but I wanted to get this put up ASAP, so here you are :D Rest of this episode to be posted Saturday or Sunday of this upcoming weekend. Might continue this mini-chap/rest of it thing thought; I kind of like splitting the chapters. What do you guys think?