Chapter 22 -- Messages in Broken Bottles

The American Dream

Driving through rural America with no clear destination was never something Dean really liked. At first it was fun, going to town to town, saving people. Hunting things, the family business. John Winchester would drag his boys behind him as he obsessively tried to track the thing that killed his wife, and in a way killed him. John Winchester died the same day his wife did. His trauma would cause him to turn his older son into a child soldier and his younger son into a mix of martyr and bait. Dean would never, ever, forgive his father for that.

But now, now it was almost romantic in essence. The road trip of finding yourself, except he had already found himself. So the fairy tail continued, an almost happy ending. Driving his Baby from town to town with his brother and their family. Lyn with his awe inspiring view of the natural world, who almost couldn't drag his gaze away from the fields and forests they pasted. Castiel who (once the Impala was expanded inside, whoooo boy that was a day) would sit quietly next to Dean, holding his hand, playing with the radio and whispering poetry and stories to Dean during rare moments of silence. (And wasn't that a kicker, Ladies Man Dean Winchester had a boyfriend, angel-friend? Permanent Romantic Partner, with the capitals and everything, Dean had never been happier) Gabriel could never sit still like the others so he'd pop in and out of the car as the trip continued. Changing between being draped over Sam's lap and poking at the others in the car he would chatter, hand out snacks and food, and then abruptly pop out to get something he wanted or to just to stretch his legs.

So here, here in the car that had once been a prison Dean found that the drivers weren't a chore anymore, they were fun. He found a bit of the American Dream here, maybe not the white picket fence, two and a half kids and the dog. But now he had something similar. A brother he loved who was in love and happy and safe. A romantic partner who kept him honest and probably healthier. And a new brother who he could dote on without him complaining, which ironically Lyn was technically the older brother in all ways. But in human ways the kid was like…18. Adult enough to take care of himself and definitely make his own decisions, but someone should probably still keep an eye on him. And last but not least Bobby, the grumpy old man who was more of a father to the Winchester boys then John ever was. So now Dean had his own slice of apple pie Americana.

Castiel found that he enjoyed Earth and humans more than he ever thought he would. Of course thanks to One and his Father he had never held the same disdain for humans that his brothers Urial and Zachariah had for them. Dean had opened his eyes even more, showing Castiel what it meant to love someone, and to find himself, a definition of himself that was more than just a foot soldier for heaven. He learned that he liked the taste of honey, and that bees were perhaps the more hard working mortal creature. That Dean's eyes would change color like the sea and that Dean's smile was most honest when directed towards the flock. That Dean's hands were the best to hold and that he could make Castiel feel so small when he was in Dean's arms.

Castiel wasn't sure what to make of all these things, he just felt so happy, so content, all the time. Given that happiness wasn't something angels really expected to last Castiel was anxious for the other shoe to drop. For his happiness to be taken away again. As if sensing the stressful road his thoughts were heading down Dean reached over and took his hand. Dean glanced over, a smirk half formed on his face, "All good Cas?"

Castiel smiled overly wide as his love, "Yes Dean. Everything is good."

"I'm glad then," Dean's hand was warm in Castiel's grasp, and his green eyes glowed with the sun and the goodness between them.

Horizon

The flock had stopped for a lunch break when Lyn felt it. A whisper of angelic grace that brushed up against his conscious. Strangely, it wasn't familiar. No angel in recent memory held this kind of grace. Lyn wandered away from their picnic area near the side of the road. HIs flock watching curiously, and then slowly following. The sense of grace lead Lyn to a magnificent Oak tree in the center of a wide field. It was growing beautifully, full green leaves, thick trunk with dark brown bark, the issue was, it was radiating grace. Like an angel, which shouldn't be possible. Unless, unless...Lyn was filled with such a profound sadness so suddenly his flock jumped up and raced toward him. His angelic brothers had tears in their eyes, a mirror to the ones streaming down Lyn's face.

Dean spoke first, a desperate almost angry tone, "Lyn! You ok? What's wrong?". His hands flapped around as he waved them, clueless on what to do to help.

Lyn turned to look at the elder Winchester, big, fat, salty tears spilling at an increasing pace from his eyes, "They tore it out, they were so desperate to cut themselves off from heaven they tore it out."

Dean stopped his failing and cupped Lyn's face in his hands, wiping the tears roughly from Lyn's cheeks, "What? An angel tore what out?"

Lyn's voice was a mournful wail that tore itself from his throat, "Their grace! They tore out the definition of themselves! Their very nature!".

Castiel's and Gabriel's faces crumpled even as they moved forward to comfort the most sensitive of their flock. They understood, of course they did. Gabriel denied his grace for so long, waded through countless years of crippling pain, so he wouldn't be found. Castiel might have not personally experienced falling from heaven, but he had mourned for those who had. Those who couldn't go on after the war, who had lost too many of their garrisons, their flock, and so chose to tear themselves apart so that they wouldn't feel how alone they were now. What Lyn was feeling from tree probably didn't help either, it was playing a feedback loop of what the angel felt as they fell.

Lyn walked toward the tree with his hand raised, touching the trunk gently. Drawing his magic forward Lyn called the grace to join him, cradling it gently to his soul. Soothing it's wailing, giving it a place to rest and be loved. It shuddered suddenly, and then seemed to relax, calming down. Gabriel hugged Lyn around the waist with one arm, "Do you think we should fine them? See if they want to return to heaven?"

"You can do that? Give a fallen angel back their grace?" Sam despite the sadness seemed curious about the semantics.

Castiel, replied with a kind of bittersweet melancholy, "Yes. It's rare however, angels once they fall are separated by a great distance from their grace and are usually are reborn as humans with little to no memories as their time as angels. If they manage to find their grace then they can become an angel again and return to the heavenly host," Castiel's tone turned sad, "But usually they do not, and their grace is found by demons and used in the most foul of ways."

Dean reached over and clasped Castiel's hand in his own, sending his boyfriend a small comforting smile. "Well we can try to find them? It's not like we have a hunt lined up, and family is important. We know that more than most people."

Lyn breaks into the conversation, drying his eyes with his shirt sleeves, "I think we should, no angel is truly meant to live without their grace."

Sam and Gabriel agreed with the other three. "Lyn, do you know which angel this grace belongs to?" Sam looked over Gabriel's head to meet Lyn's gaze.

Lyn nodded, pulling his sleeves down over his hand in a strangely childlike motion,"Yes? and no. I know which angel this grace belongs to because and angel is their grace. But I have no way to identify a human which this grace created after the angel fell. I can attempt to scry them, see who they became. But it's unlikely that I'll find them."

Gabriel shrugs, "We have a while judging by the state of the tree. It's still going strong so the human this angel became is still alive and well. It'd only start to decline when they return to heaven, or hell, without their grace."

Castiel doesn't share the same optimism, "The last angel to fall from Heaven was thousands of human years ago, so we can't determine who the angel used to be using time as a judgement."

The group falls quiet for awhile. Lyn breaks the silence. "Anna. Her name is Anna."