Title: In His Grace

Author: Stolen Childe

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters do not belong to me.

Rating: R

Warnings: slash, kid!fic, angst, wing!fic , strong language, H/C, mature themes, somewhat dark!fic, mention of underage sex (the character is 16 at the time), mentions of wanting harm to a child, blasphemy, mentions of het, violence

Pairing/Characters: Castiel/Dean, John Tabris(child OC), Sam, and a few surprises… Mention of past Sam/OFC, mention of OMC/OMC, OMC/OFC

Word Count: 10900+ (No idea what's going on with me…)

Summary: Sometimes being family can be the most painful thing in the world and sometimes being family can be the only thing that saves you.

Author's Notes: All right ah… this one is way darker than I ever intended to write for the John'Verse. There are elements within that may be perceived as mentions of domestic abuse (*squeaks*)… But um, it's hard to explain… I'm not intending for it to be perceived as domestic abuse but more of the epic love story of Dean and Castiel. There is nothing blatantly referred to that was not on the show. And also, I in no way approve of using foul language around a child, no matter how old they are. So the way Dean addresses John may make some people uncomfortable, but Dean is not doing it to be nasty. I used Drew Fuller as John in the image above. Many of you will probably recognize him from Charmed. He has Dean's/Jensen's green eyes and everything… It's kinda perfect.

John's Age: 7 and 17 years

In His Grace

John hunched down in his dad's old brown leather jacket. The material was somehow still holding together after three generations of use. He was not quite large enough to fill it in entirely yet, but at seventeen he still had some growing to do. He was walking home from the library because he told his father he would only use his powers if strictly necessary and his dad refused to let him take one of the cars unless it was Uncle Sam's beat up black Chevy K10 pick-up circa 1983. John thought it weird his uncle drove a vehicle the same age as him, but only judged when he was forced to drive the damn thing.

He sort of understood why he wasn't allowed to drive the Mustang, because it was a fucking Mustang, even if he would have got him in good with the kids at school (and possibly finally scored him that date with Jack Barrow from shop class). The one time he was allowed to borrow the Impala he was caught getting hot and heavy with Emma Little in the backseat and he was forever banned from it. He supposed having an angel for a father sucked more than usual sometimes especially when that angel father was tuned into to every rise and spike of his son's emotions in case he was ever in trouble. It was super embarrassing, for them both. Castiel, though, had pretty well reined the empathy thing in since John hit sixteen and the Emma Little fiasco occurred. Most awkward first time ever. John grinned a little to himself.

He shivered again as the early winter wind picked up and shot straight down his spine which caused him to alter his heading from the corner still half a block away and scoot down the alley to his left. Probably not the smartest move when all was said and done, but John didn't know that then.

"Hmm… You're the Prince of Araboth's boy… The Halfling," a wry voice muttered from John's back. The boy spun, eyes going wide, wondering how in the world the creature managed to get a drop on him. "You've certainly grown since we've last encountered one another… How is Cassiel?" The tone was not at all kind and the sneer on the angel's face sent a streak of fear down John's spine. He stamped it down however and reared back, his wings springing forward, invisible to the human eye but still physically present. John knew he had more power than an angel of his status really had a right to. It was something to do with the combined essence of the Righteous Man and Castiel's own brand of power. Even before Castiel became an archangel he had always been a fairly powerful angel, once Anael's right hand.

"It's Castiel," John sneered, even though he knew his father had many names and the name the other angel spoke was just as true.

The angel chuckled before him, "You don't remember me do you? Must I refresh your memory?" That's when it hit John, he knew this angel mostly through second hand account but he knew him nonetheless.

"Jerazol," John hissed.

It was after John's lessons for the day and Castiel was pleased to be strolling through the Eternal Tuesday Afternoon of the Autistic Man that Castiel favoured. John was enjoying it just as much. Chasing butterflies and bees and running along the impossibly green grass, barefoot in lose white shorts and a loose white tunic. John's wings were displayed proudly in Heaven, a russet-golden-brown and as soft as the down of a duckling to the touch. They were already starting to blacken a little on the tips and Castiel assumed that John would have wings as black as Castiel's when he was older, most likely flecked with gold. Castiel's own wings had been a downy silver-grey when he was John's age and now had deepened to midnight with silver-flecks. Black was not a very common wing colour and having gold interspersed among the feathers was rarer still. Castiel knew that they gold was the influence of Dean's soul in the child and the thought never failed to make him smile.

The smile faltered immediately and Castiel's wings flared out in alarm as he sensed the ripple through the air a moment before he saw the cause of it. Castiel watched wide-eyed and dismayed as they became surrounded by several renegade angels from Raphael's faction. Though their leader was gone they were still desperately seeking revenge and many of them felt that John's presence in Heaven was an abomination and a blasphemy to Their Father. They never stopped to think that Castiel would not have been given John if it was not what Their Father wanted and he certainly would not have been promoted to Archangel if Their Father was displeased. Yes, Castiel had angered him greatly when he committed his sins all those years ago, but he had made up for it over time and Their Father had forgiven him with in His infinite mercy, even if some of his brothers never would.

"Castiel, how very… stupid of you," one of the angels commented with a not at all pleasant smile.

Castiel tensed and slipped his archangel blade free from his sleeve. The other angels chuckled and with little warning moved forward and attacked. Castiel was thrown off guard for only a moment before he regained himself. Even before his promotion he was one of God's fiercest warriors which was partially why he had been chosen in the first place to rescue Dean from Hell. He was intelligent, quick, strong and cunning and he also wasn't above underhanded methods now that he had spent more time on Earth. He was just about to employ a distraction technique he picked up when he felt something shiver down his spine and moved his gaze from his attacker to turn wide shocked blue eyes to the only angel that had stayed out of the fight, Jerazol, the angel many humans evoked when they conjured.

The fight had only been a distraction! Of course they knew they would not beat him in such a manner. When the words Jerazol were murmuring were finally recognized by Castiel's battle focused mind, the small shiver down his spine turned into an outright freezing stab in his gut. Castiel dropped his blade and was across the blood darkened grass in an instant sliding in front of John and curling his massive duel-set of wings around his son just as he felt a shock slice through his body. John watched on in horror.

John could only watch as the angels attacked his papa. Papa was fighting real hard and he was real good at it, but John knew he couldn't keep it up forever. That's when Papa had stopped real suddenly and John found himself covered instantly in his father's warm comforting wings. He stayed there huddled in the darkness, clinging to his father's shirt and feeling his father's arms painfully tight around his back. John sensed the other angels disappear a moment before light hit his closed eyelids and he opened them abruptly in surprise.

"Oh, I had forgotten this feeling," Papa muttered and then the scariest thing of all happened Papa's beautiful wings vanished with a blaze of strange purple black light then his eyes went real dark and then John found himself suddenly crushed under his father's weight, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he slumped forward.

John clamped down on the scream in the back of his throat and then clung to his father as tight as he could, "Daddy, Daddy, I want Daddy. Daddy, I need help. Please I want Daddy."

John felt a funny feeling just then. He had felt it before of course but never this long and never this… deep. He felt a twist and a tug behind his navel, he felt his wings snap out as wide as they could reach on either side before snapping back in with a great gust of wind and then he felt like he was falling through the air, a million-million miles an hour. Before, with one shuddering halt, he stopped landing with a crash down on a soft surface the heavy weight of his Papa still over him. John snapped open his eyes and stared down the barrel of a gun, glinting silver and menacing in the moonlight.

"John!" Dean gasped in surprise. "What the… Cas?'

"Daddy," John said in a soft and broken voice the word that Dean hadn't heard in far too long tugging at his heart and gut and twisting.

"Daddy… Papa's hurt, I didn't know where else to go. He's broken Daddy, his wings are gone, you have to help," John whimpered. All Dean could do was gather his son close to his chest and murmur useless condolences while Cas breathed, fast asleep and dead to the world sprawled across their bed.

Before John really registered it happening, the stunning silver of his father's archangel blade descended into his hand from the Heavenly cash where it was stored. It throbbed with the familiar comforting power that was so purely his father.

"Hmm… well aren't you special," Jerazol commented. John was gratified to see a flash of fear in the other angel's gaze at the sight of the blade.

"Yeah, I'm not a little kid anymore," John grinned darkly, flashing too many teeth like he'd seen his dad do in the middle of a particularly vicious hunt.

Jerazol fluttered his wings distractedly, seeming to second guess himself before he made his choice and flitted closer to John grinning, "You're lucky it's you we aren't after Boy, we'll find your father. It's only a matter of time. Pass along that message for us, will you?"

As soon as the other angel disappeared John squeezed his eyes shut and focused on home. He felt the disorienting buzz wash over him and landed a moment later in the middle of their living room. His ten year old cousin Mary squeaked and dropped her book, honey curls haloing her for a moment as she scrambled back. His dad only flickered his eyes over to the centre of the room and quirked a brow.

His father looked younger than his fifty-odd years, a combination of genetics and the influence of Castiel's grace upon his human body. Though his eyes still crinkled warmly when he smiled and the age and experience shone out of green eyes identical to John's own.

"Whatever happened to only doing that in case of emergency?" Dean drawled, turning the page of the paper he was reading with a flick.

"This is an emergency," John gritted out. "Where's Pop?"

"Communing with the Holy Ghost or whatever," Dean nodded to the roof and got to his feet stretching the stiffness from his spine, the cracks and pops filling the room. John could only shake his head at the ease of his father's attitude. All in a day's work John supposed. His dad had been doing this for his entire life, less five years.

"So what's the—" John didn't let Dean finish the sentence and popped up to the roof where Castiel stood ramrod straight, arms loose at his side and eyes closed.

"Po—" he was cut off with his father holding a hand palm up towards John. John figured he was managing his garrison from afar or whatever it was archangels did and waited impatiently. Did no one care? Especially after what happened last time?

Castiel woke up feeling an odd twisting sickness in is belly and a dizzying pounding behind his eyes. That was odd, he didn't recall coming across any liquor stores recently and divesting them of their contents. But nonetheless it was the same feeling as it had that one time that he had gotten spectacularly drunk then helped to slay a whore. Good day. Castiel winced. He recalled … The last thing he recalled was… John! The battle, the spell it all came rushing back.

Castiel sat up, the abrupt movement causing his back and chest to flare angrily and a racking cough to fall free form his burning lungs as he gasped into the darkness.

"Woah, woah! Take it easy Cas, I got you, I got you," a comforting voice and then warm hands on his skin and he was slowly, gradually lowered back onto the soft mattress beneath.

"John!" Castiel shouted with no little alarm, still unable to connect his disjointed thoughts, feelings and memories.

"Cas, he's right here," Dean said gently. Castiel managed to turn his throbbing head and saw his son curled around Dean's leg, clinging tightly and sleeping. Dean was leaning against the headboard next to Castiel, bent at a strange angle as to not jostle the boy but still offer what reassurances he could to the angel.

"He's safe," Castiel stated with relief.

"He safe," Dean concurred. "He brought you here to me and then he fell asleep once I reassured him you were alive and well… But tell me Cas, what the hell happened?"

Cas smiled bitterly, "Vigilante justice."

Dean just blinked, "Doesn't really clear much up, Babe."

Castiel struggled to rise, feeling as if his entire body was being stabbed by thousands of tiny knives. Dean helped him, easing him to lean gently against the headboard.

"There are many in Heaven who are not at all pleased with me and my new found… Grace. I suppose you could say. They still feel as if I betrayed many of them and that Father should have banished me from Heaven. They think John is an abomination. The… spell they used was ancient Enochian, the oldest of the old. It binds an angel's power. They meant to cleanse Heaven of John… for lack of a better term. I managed to make it over to him just in time to take the spell myself. I fear had they succeeded… Our son would be dead," Castiel finished with a shudder and heard Dean take in a quick, sharp breath through his nose.

Dean frowned, "So you're what… Juiceless?"

Castiel smiled ironically, "To the greatest extent. For all intents and purposes I'm completely and utterly human."

Dean's eyes widened, "Cas… I'm so—"

"Dean," Castiel interrupted. "It's all right. The spell was never intended for use on an archangel and it is only my previous affiliations with the seraphim that resulted in the spell even succeeding. As far as I know, the binding will not hold. It will only be a matter of time before my Grace breaks through."

"Will they come after John?" Dean asked with a tremor in his voice.

Castiel leaned his head back and closed his eyes, "I… I don't know. And I can't protect him anymore. Dean, I'm so tired."

Dean smiled sadly, "Sleep Cas. I'll take the first watch."

Normally sitting sandwiched between his two angels would bring Dean nothing but peace and comfort, however with one completely tapped of power and the other his little boy he could only feel anxiety. The house was protected the best they were able with two angels residing in it, but if the ones who attacked John were out there still Dean didn't know what it was he could possibly do against them. He wished that Balthazar or Gabriel were still alive, at least then Dean could send up a quick Hail Mary (or whoever) and call in a favour or two to put those angel scratchings on John, if he were even capable of holding them. At least then he'd be cloaked. But any sympathetic angels were a thing of the past.

"Daddy?" John stirred against his leg and blinked as he raised his head.

"Hey Buddy," Dean said.

"Daddy… I'm sorry I got Papa hurt," John sniffed. "His wings are gone and I… I didn't mean to do it." Hearing the hurt in John's voice and hearing him call Dean 'daddy' again were doing odd things to Dean's emotions.

"John, it isn't your fault. Papa was protecting you, that's his job and that's my job. I would have done the exact same thing, jumped in front like that. You didn't ask those angels to attack and you certainly didn't bring it on so you can't be sorry for something you didn't do. Cas and me? We're your parents Kiddo, protecting and loving you is what we're here for. Don't feel sorry for us doing that."

"But Daddy… Who's going to protect you and Papa?" John scooted closer and basically crawled into Dean's lap.

Dean had to swallow past the lump in his throat, "John, we'll protect each other and Uncle Sam too. You don't have to worry about a thing."

Now, ten years later, all John could remember was that horrible sinking pain he had back then every time he reached for the comfort of his father and only felt a cold, hard wall. He shuddered at the memory, shivering in the cool air on the roof and waited until Castiel was done, or tried to.

"Po—" another infuriating hand and John growled low in his throat. He muttered a few Enochian curses and stomped his feet against the cold.

"John," his dad had come out to the front yard and shouted up, "just come back inside. He'll be done when he's done."

"I'm not leaving him unprotected up here," John snapped back, scooting to the edge of the roof. His precarious perch on the edge sent a spark of anxiety through his dad's eyes.

"Dad, relax, I got wings in case you forgot," John rolled his eyes.

"Don't get smart with me," Dean glared up. "Just tell me what the fuck is going on."

"No, when we're all here. Did you call Uncle Sam?" John asked.

Grumbling Dean waved a dismissive hand and disappeared back into the house.

John spun around and nearly fell off the edge of the roof when he felt the warm weight of his father's hand on his shoulder. He was caught easily before he could topple down and peered into his father's warm blue eyes.

"It's very sweet you wish to protect me John, but I assure you I do not require it. Now what is this about?" Castiel asked lowly, gaze flickering over his son's face, tracking over the wavy chestnut hair, freckles, the spark in his green eyes the straight nose and square jaw. A perfect mix of Dean and Castiel.

If possible, over the years, his father had become more serene, he was more angelic now, in the classical sense, than John had ever recalled him being and he never failed to settle John's many fears and anxieties. John let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes before speaking.

"We should all be together for it… This… It's hard. I keep… Let's go inside and wait for Uncle Sam," John managed.

Mary glared suspiciously at her cousin and uncles, pouting in the corner as she waited for her daddy to get here. She knew something was up and knew she would be sent away the moment Daddy got home.

"Keep that up Mary Jessica, and you'll burn a hole in the carpet," Uncle Dean remarked. John had been pacing the floor for the last ten minutes ever since him and Uncle Cas came back inside. Uncle Cas was sitting at the table calmly sipping a cup of tea while an old musty book was open in front of him, not at all concerned.

Mary heard the tinkle of keys in the lock and rose to her knees on the couch, leaning across the back of it and waiting for Daddy to appear in the doorway. Daddy held it open, ushering and almost seven year old Jasper ahead of him, the small stern boy placing all his concentration into carrying the large brown paper bag.

John came over and took the bag from his little brother ruffling his black hair before grinning down at him, "Jass, can you go upstairs with Mary for me? I gotta talk to Dads and Uncle Sam."

Jasper nodded, before saying quietly, "Okay." Wide piercing blue eyes moved to stare expectantly at Mary. Mary rolled her eyes and grumbled about being treated like a baby before taking her small cousin's hand and dragging him up the stairs.

"All right John, now spit it out. What the fuck, Dude?" Dean glared, all patience used up.

"Dean," Castiel chastised.

John let out another shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair, "I was confronted by Jerazol on my way home."

"What?" the Winchester brothers snarled while his father merely raised a brow.

John had barely left Castiel's side since the boy had brought the angel home. He moved carefully around with his father as Castiel shuffled to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Dean watched with sad eyes as Cas winced, swallowing the cool liquid. His entire body seemed to be one large concentration of pain and Dean wandered if he ever really would recover.

Castiel eased himself down next to Dean on the bed looking thoroughly exhausted, slumping bonelessly and resting his head on Dean's shoulder closing his eyes.

"Papa…?" John whispered, scooting over to the bed and raising a hesitant hand.

Castiel opened tired blue eyes, "Yes Angel?"

"Are you… I mean… Is there anything… Papa! I'm so, so sorry this is all my fault!" John sobbed and flung himself at the weakened angel. Dean couldn't help but notice Castiel's wince at having the whole weight of a seven year old thrust against him but Cas just grit his teeth and raised shaky arms.

"John Tabris, this is not your fault and I will not have you saying that again. Do I make myself clear? It was Jerazol and the others and I swear the moment I regain my strength they'll pay." Dean couldn't help but agree. They would pay fucking hard.

"John, we are at a much more advantageous position now than we were back then. You needn't worry," Castiel said, knowing exactly what was going through his son's mind.

"Yeah, Kiddo, we're cool. The bastard shows up, your father will give him a good beating and then we can all go on with our increasingly boring lives," Dean shrugged.

"But Dad! What they did to him last time!" John protested, not understanding why everyone was being so flippant about all this.

"John, it wasn't the first time I was without power. Yes it was painful, more physically than anything, but I had no fear I wouldn't get it back. I know it was very traumatic for you, I do understand. You had me with you for the first seven years of your life. Linked. Then to have that removed so suddenly… I can't imagine. When I lost the voices of the Host it was slow, gradual. To be deafened suddenly… I am sorry for that. But it will not happen again," Castiel said firmly. "I will not allow myself to be surprised by Jerazol or the others again and we'll protect you."

"It's not me I'm worried about! Jesus fucking Christ!" John exploded running both hands through his hair and turning his back on his parents and silent uncle. Thunder clapped outside and the sky lit like a beacon.

"John Tabris!" Castiel hissed, eye flickering outside and thoughts soothing the Host.

John turned around and glared at his parents before throwing his head back and arms to the side, "Yeah! Well fuck you too! You stupid bastards! Leave my family alone!"

"John, come on Man," Dean soothed. "Believe me, if anyone gets it, I do. I know exactly how you feel right now Johnny, I do. Just chill out though, all right? You keep this shit up and you're going to scare your brother."

John snapped his mouth closed any protests that were hovering there lost with those words. He nodded and slumped down on the couch, falling into moody silence.

Dean just shook his head as he gazed at his teenager. All of Castiel wrath and all of Dean's surly attitude, it was a wonder they house was still standing after all these years of three angels, a prepubescent little girl and the two Winchester brothers living under the same roof. He was just glad that Jasper took after Castiel more than any of them. He was so much easier than John had ever been. Though, granted, John was raised on the road with two stumbling idiots for parents and a clueless uncle, Dean wondered half the time how they managed.

Jasper was raised quieter, with the benefit of experience behind all three and John was ten years older and surprisingly helpful. He was an expert in Dean and Castiel. Mary was just a female Winchester, and that was enough said. Dean couldn't help but grin at the little handful Sam somehow managed to land himself with. But if there was ever any better outcome of a drunken, morose fumble in the dark, Dean dared anyone to find it. Mary was good for Sammy and Sammy was good for Mary. Even if the kid had been clueless when the infant was thrust upon him by that stripper who gave a tight smile and a dismissive wave nine months after their one night stand. Planning a very long lecture to his shell-shocked little brother about the merits of protection and of not sleeping with strippers, Dean ushered Sam down to bed to process the sudden change of a lifetime and preceded to spoil the as of yet unnamed baby girl rotten. She was unceremoniously Christened Mary Jessica hours later and with blonde wisps of hair and startling then blue eyes, Dean thought Sam chose perfect.

Regardless though, John was still John and John had always been a demanding little brat who could pout with the best of them mixed in between angelic grins and moments of shocking sweetness and Dean wouldn't have his first born any other way.

"John," Dean tried hesitantly coming over to sit next to his son.

"What?" John snarled, green eyes flashing and Dean had the sudden disorienting thought of staring into a mirror.

"What did Jerazol say, John? Any indication of what he wants?" Dean asked calmly.

"Nothing beyond telling me that they're coming after Papa," John whispered, broken and reminiscent of his seven-year-old self. Dean sighed.

"They're gonna come after Papa," John whispered, later on when Castiel was sleeping once again. Dean held his son on his lap, the television was on flickering blue against their faces but they weren't really watching it.

"He'll be okay," Dean said, though he wasn't entirely certain of it himself.

"Daddy, you don't know that for sure," John answered. "I know you don't. He not strong like he was he vul…val…vener… venerable now."

Dean smiled despite himself, "I think what you're looking for is vulnerable, and yes, I know, but we'll figure something out. We always do… You know though, venerable works too, when it comes to your Papa. Castiel is one of the most venerable beings I've ever met."

"What's that mean?" John asked, leaning more heavily against Dean's chest.

"Respected, admired," Dean offered, "and it still holds Johnny, no matter what form your father's in. He's venerable and that alone means you don't have to worry. He has very good friends, in extremely high places and he's going to get better. These bad guys who hurt him won't get away with it for long. You'll see."

"No truer words."

At that Dean tensed ramrod straight standing up quick as a flash and tucking John down behind the couch. When he caught sight of what was before him, Dean gasped.

"Apparently The Word isn't what it used to be," Castiel sighed, "if Jerazol can just come back like this. I think my not so humble companion and I are going to have to have a chat once I return to Heaven. I hate seeing you like this John."

John looked up and over where his father was standing in his slouched posture, eyes sad, John leaned his head back against the couch and sighed, "Just give me a plan and point me in the right direction and I'll feel better."

"I don't think we really need a plan," Sam offered hesitantly, three sets of eyes lasered towards him. "Look Cas is kick ass, John's no slouch and Dean and I can handle an angel blade when push shoves, you know? So I say we just get Jasper and Mary tucked up safe and wait it out. I mean unless we have an entire legion raining down on us it shouldn't actually be a problem. We're all older and wiser now… still dumb as posts what with some of the crap we take on... But we handle it. Cas, you have more guys on your side than ever, right? What with that friend of yours safe and secure where he should have been twenty years ago so Jerazol can't have that many companions to help him out."

"Sam is correct, unless Jerazol has an archangel on his side, between John and I we should be able to lay waste to whatever attempts they make. I will not be caught in a trap again, that's for certain," Castiel declared sternly.

Dean let out a breath, "Okay but what if—"

"DADDY!" Mary's scream rent the air and in an instant the two men and the two angels were on alert. Castiel and John disappeared with a gust while Dean and Sam pounded up the stairs, Sam wide eyed with panic and Dean not fairing much better.

"Holy shit…" Dean muttered.

"So true Kiddo, I am the Holy Shit, ain't I? Miss me? That lost guppy look on your face sure seems like you did," floppy brown hair, sparkling whisky eyes and a wide irreverent grin.

"But you're…"

"Little more than celestial dust? Yeah, well, things change. And I've always kinda been one of Daddy's favourites, why do you think he let me frolic down here amongst you belly crawlers for so long, huh? Turns out he got tired of running things solo again, and called me back from the nether. Gabriel and his big horn are back in business, Baby! And, my first task is as follows…" the small man grinned.

"Daddy… who…?" John asked peeking up over the edge of the couch to the angel behind it.

"This is Gabriel," Dean said a little dazedly.

John's eyes widened and he scrambled right over the couch stopping in front of the archangel and looking up into his dancing eyes. "Woah…" John whispered in awe.

"Hey there Munchkin, it's real great to meet you! I've always been a bit of a fan of your dad and uncle and Cassie is one of my favourite little Bs. You're something pretty special, you know that?" Gabriel was crouched in front of the child angel, smiling gently at him in a way Dean would never have thought the false-Pagan god would be capable of.

"You… you're… you're one of the first. You've seen God! Daddy! This Gabriel the Archangel can you believe it? Everyone was saying he was dead, that Lucifer killed him, but Daddy!" John gushed, running back and forth between his father and the being in the middle of their living room. "Daddy! Papa's gonna be okay now! Right, Sir? You're here to help him?"

Gabriel winced, "Wow there Sprout, don't start in on the Sirs, you're making be feel old… well… older… Man, I actually forgot how old I am… Now if that isn't a weird feeling. So where's Castiel, Dean? I outta take that little brat over my knee for the whole Holy Oil incident but I think he's been through enough."

John's eyes were comically wide as he gaped up at his father, "Papa trapped Mr. Gabriel in Holy Oil?"

"Well… it was more your Uncle Sam and I," Dean grimaced, "but yeah, your Papa got most of the blame for that little incident… Sorry Man."

"Whatevs. Over it. Wouldn't have helped you two chumps out back when the whole Pagan Powwow thing was going down, if I hadn't been. Besides, you guys saved the world, you pretty well get the Awesome-Hat for that one. God knows I love this little mud-marble," Gabriel waved it off.

"Cas is down the hall," Dean said, nodding in the direction.

"Cool. You're gonna wanna shut those pretty greens of yours Dean-o, things are gonna get real shiny in a minute," Gabriel flashed another grin and with a wave popped away.

John and Castiel both had angel blades in hand when Sam and Dean made it down the hall to Jasper's room. Mary was huddled in a corner, hazel-green eyes wide as she took in the three unfamiliar angels standing menacingly in the center of the room. Sam rushed to his daughter the moment he saw her and gathered her up in his arms hushing nonsense into her ear, while keeping one eye trained ahead.

"So…" Jerazol mused, the smarmy grin of his vessel flashing in the dim light. The man was attractive in a dark blue pinstripe suit that looked custom made. He had sandy brown feathery hair and deep brown eyes, a different vessel than the one that he had when he visited them ten years previous.

"Jerazol," Castiel growled stepping forward threateningly.

"No, no Castiel. That will not do, you honestly don't believe I would come here unprepared now, do you?" Jerazol stepped aside and revealed that an angel in a pretty female vessel had been crouching behind him, holding Jasper. The child's mouth lax and eyes closed, looking so like death that a lurching sickness crawled over Dean's entire body.

"Don't you fucking hurt him!" Dean snarled bounding forward only to be stopped by his older son's steel strong arms. Dean glared at the boy and cursed his strength and was grateful for it all at once. It was an unsettling moment though, when one realized their seventeen year old son could break them in half or destroy them with a thought.

"See Dean, that all depends on the angel on your shoulder here. It's a trade really. I take my pound of flesh out of dear little Jasper or I kill Castiel. We all know the only way I would succeed in hurting His Grace," Jerazol sneered, "is if he allowed me to, but I will have no trouble whatsoever killing your sweet little one here. Not quite the prodigal that Johnny-boy was, is he? No angel manifestations yet, as I gathered… Well, except for the wings." Jerazol leaned down to the unconscious child and ran a hand through the invisible feathers at his back. Dean's stomach crawled and he struggled against his son's arm, even though he could feel the tension coursing through John and his power pinging into the room. The boy was barely holding himself in check.

"What's to stop us from destroying you right now, and ending this whole thing," Castiel said dangerously.

"Well, you're good, of course you are. I'm not going to deny that, but you're a little under-matched here. The minute you kill me, my companions will be able to take out at least one of your pet humans. So who do you want to risk here, Castiel, your life or theirs?"

Dean was able to see the white-gold burn of Grace even from behind his closed eyelids once Gabriel had knocked down Castiel's wall. Dean opened his eyes the minute the warmth faded away and took John in his arms running down the hallway with him. He sucked in a breath when he entered their bedroom, to see far more angels in it than he expected or ever wanted.

"So you do you want to risk here Castiel?" a man, Jerazol Dean guessed, in the centre of the group was musing, he had black wavy hair and smooth leather brown skin, black liquid eyes glinting maliciously. A musical lilt to his borrowed voice belying his viciousness, "You give up your grace and the child's and you live happily ever after with your little pet human or you keep it and I get the boy. He's an abomination Castiel, a nephillim of old, he'll turn eventually. I'm actually doing you a favour."

Gabriel was leaning against the windowsill behind Castiel looking bored as he dug under one blunt manicured nail.

"No," Castiel gravelled out, voice low, raw and dangerous. "He's nothing of the sort. He's a remarkable creature, one that none of us have ever before witnessed. He is the Latest and Most Perfect Creation of Our Father and you commit blasphemy with your words. He was given to Dean as a gift, a reward for his work. But above all, he is my son and I will not have you speak of him in such a way."

Dean cheered internally while at the same time looking for a way to get the hell out of dodge because Cas looked like he was about to go nuclear at any moment and Dean didn't want to stick around to find out if The Righteous Man could survive an angel death canon.

Dean was just gathering John up again and backing towards the bedroom door when the heavy wood slammed shut behind him. Dean jumped and blinked, cursing under his breath.

"You stay here," Jerazol sneered. "I greatly appreciate collateral." Castiel's gaze flickered over to Dean, the steely determination wavering. Apparently Castiel didn't want to run the risk of Dean getting caught in the inevitable blast either and reined in the crackling energy that had been jumping around the room.

"Well, that was fun, good show Kids. A little cliché, but whatever, angels aren't exactly known for their creativity. So here's where the climax occurs… and no, not a fun one, sorry boys. This is where I jump in to save the day and you all owe me a big favour. Capiche?" Gabriel grinned bounding away from the windowsill.

"And who are you?" Jerazol raised a bored eyebrow, seemingly not at all impressed by the small man. Dean blinked, he supposed angels couldn't always recognized one another. Well Jerazol was certainly in for a surprise.

"Yeah, I think I ran off before you were born. Don't really know you much either, heard the whispers of course. Always heard the whispers. You were never anyone's favourite, though ol' Raph apparently had a soft spot for you. But anyway, I'm back now and duties are duties. Oh woe is my life… Oh, right, you asked who I was…" the archangel grinned, "Gabriel, pleased to meet you and I don't appreciate lesser creatures stomping all over my Castiel and his family. You get me? Daddy says you're grounded." Gabriel's eyes flashed darkly and with a whoosh and a flash that had Dean once more shielding his gaze, the other angel was banished from their presence. Gabriel brushed his hands together and turned around grinning.

"All right, day is done. I've cast out the cankers. I'll just be off now, but Johnny, you ever want anything, you give me a call. Give it three more years or so first though, all right? Everyone has to deal with an interesting revelation first." With that obscure comment Gabriel winked and fluttered out of sight.

The interesting revelation came later that year when Sam stumbled through the door, a pink bundle clutched tight to his chest and what John wanted turned out to be a baby brother three years after that.

Now though, John stood on the flip side of the situation ten years later fighting to hold back his dad while shooting anxious glances at his father. Jasper, his Jasper was hurt and alone and in so much danger and John should have known better than to worry about his parents when he had his vulnerable baby brother that he should have been worrying about instead. How could he have been such an idiot? Of course Jerazol wasn't stupid enough to attack an archangel flat out. Of course he would have gone for the weakest link in the chain. The weak spot of them all: family.

"Now it was a pretty stupid thing of Gabriel not to kill me when he had the chance, but favoured though he may be he was never the brightest bulb in the bunch, was he?" Jerazol smiled. "Though of course, perhaps he was just following orders. Whatever the case, I am not going to be lenient this time. You destroyed Raphael, Castiel, you rebelled, you fell, you've committed sin as you lay with this human. You do not deserve to live, regardless of what you may think. I know Our Father would have punished you had He been able. Punished you properly. However, for whatever reason, He could not and you flout His Word and Authority at every turn. Creating these things you call children. Claiming they are God's Gifts to you. But you tell me Castiel, what have you done to deserve such kindness from Him?"

Castiel deflated then, slumping in the folds of his overcoat and staring down at the silver-flecked blue of the carpet at his feet, "I have done nothing to deserve His kindness, but He found it within Him to bestow it upon me. Perhaps, I gained His Favour through mere happy accident as His gifts were intended for Dean. I have worked hard to atone for my sins, and I assure you being with Dean is not and never has been one of them, Brother. I realize how many I have committed and what pain I spread and though He brought me back He did not bring me back as I stand before you now. Years I existed, half of what I was before He Graced me once more with this power and strength. Had He removed my Grace entirely or I from this world, the punishment would have indeed fit the crime but He did not. He chose to give me one more chance. For whatever reason, for The Lord does indeed work in mysterious ways." Here Castiel flickered a small smile over at Dean who groaned and rolled his eyes.

"So I now give you a solution Brother. It is a simple one. As Our Father is All-knowing and as Our Father's Word is The Word, you release my son to his father and I go with you. We have one chance each, one moment. If I succeed in killing you then what has occurred is right. If you succeed in killing me as you claim Our Father wishes, then you will succeed regardless of the difference we have in our abilities and strengths. In an effort to be fair, the first strike will be your own. Then everyone gets what they want, don't they? If you succeed, my child is safe and well and I'm gone from this world. If I succeed then I never need lay eyes upon you and your filth again," Castiel finished with a dangerous gleam in blue eyes belying his resigned tone. Dean wanted to argue, to fight to throw up his hands and demand justice be done here, but he had to have faith that Castiel knew what he was doing.

Jerazol mulled the proposition over for one tense agonizing moment before he nodded grimly, "Very well. I need not fear, for I am right. I accept your terms Castiel. Your human may retrieve the boy." At Castiel's steady nod Dean rushed forward in an instant and took his unconscious son out of the female angel's arms. She released him easily enough and Dean backed hurriedly away.

"I will bring along only one of my companions and you may bring along one of your own, to bear witness," Jerazol said.

"I agree. John, will you come with me?" Castiel asked. John nodded readily, and a word of protest hung on Dean's lips once again but he bit it down at a look from his angel.

"I will bring Ashriel," Jerazol said. The woman nodded and rose the two male companions that had remained silent through the entire exchange disappeared with a flap of wings.

"Go to Jerazol, I will meet you shortly. I need a few moments to… make my goodbyes," Castiel said quietly.

"Very well. If you default Castiel, I know where to find you."

"I will not default," Castiel glared and Jerazol and Ashriel disappeared.

"Cas…" Dean said hesitantly when the angel turned resigned eyes on him. Dean was still clutching Jasper close to his chest, feeling the softly beating heart and easy breaths, the motion and sound reassuring him when the worst possible thing could happen in mere moments.

"Dean, don't worry," Castiel said with a smile. "I am not going to die this night. And not for many, many years to come. I promise. I'll return as soon as I am able. I love you," Castiel said, brushing a tender kiss against Dean's lips and then dropping a healing kiss on their young son's brow. Jasper's eyes fluttered open and he blinked up at his parents.

"Daddy, Papa, what's…" Jasper murmured.

"It's okay Jass," John said gently, brushing a few stray strands of thick hair from his baby brother's brow.

"Okay," Jasper nodded, easily taking John's words at face value. Always ready and willing to believe what his big brother said to him. Dean shot a look at Sammy, who was still huddled with the gently crying Mary against his chest and they gave one another watery smiles.

"We should go," Castiel said quietly.

"See you on the flip side, Dad," John grinned with a wink.

"Take care Brat," Dean grinned back. "You die, I kill you. You know the drill."

"Yeah, yeah, play me the other one. Night Jass, see you later. See you Uncle Sam," John sent a jaunty wave over at his uncle and cousin and Dean watched as he lifted a few feet off the floor, hovering and waiting for Castiel. Castiel nodded, smiled at Dean and Sam, brushed a tender hand along Jasper's forehead and then with a gust and a flutter John and Castiel left the room.

When Castiel didn't come back that night, and neither did John, Dean got worried. When it was three days later and Jasper and Mary were asking where Castiel and John were, Dean got terrified. He called and prayed to both of them, whispered words into silent nights as he kept vigil every moment at his sleeping son's bedside, holding the child's hand in hopes that the Grace he shared with the other two men in Dean's life would carry his words up to the heavens or beyond or wherever it was that John and Castiel had gone. But nothing worked, he heard no tell-tale flutter of wings. Saw no cocky grin from his son or gentle smile from his angel. Felt nothing but a dull ache thrum through his chest and he could only watch as Jasper wandered around the house, lost confused and utterly terrified to be without his big brother because Jasper had never before been without John.

"Daddy," Jasper whispered crawling off his bed and over to Dean's lap where the man sat hunched and sore in the chair he placed there.

"I know Jass," Dean whispered hugging the boy to his chest feeling small hands curl into the well-worn T-shirt he had on.

"Daddy, it's been five days," Jasper whispered again, his voice steady and dull.

"I know Jasper," was all Dean could say again. "I know."

"Daddy, I can't—"

"Jasper!" Dean cut in before the boy could finish that sentence. He didn't want to hear it, he couldn't hear it. Because sure, maybe he wasn't a celestial being like his children and their father but he was still inexplicably linked to them all and he could feel that strange hollowness too in the centre of his heart, that leak of whatever it was that was slowly trickling out of them, because he had been feeling it for far too long and was having hard time ignoring it now. That's why he cut in harsher than he intended and would not let Jasper finish that sentence.

"Okay," was all Jasper whispered instead. That always ready, always willing 'okay.' That simple two syllable word that Jasper never failed to utter because his parents and his brother had never steered him wrong before and it was so easy to just listen and to just agree and just say 'okay.'

Dean heart flipped and his teeth clenched and he felt guilt bubble, "Jass… You don't have to… You don't have to do that all the time."

"Daddy?" Jasper asked.

"Jass, you don't have to agree all the time. Like that. We're not always right, we… You can have your own thoughts," Dean tried haltingly to explain this to a not even seven year old child and knew he was failing miserably.

"Okay," Jasper said quietly. "Okay Dad."

Dean hugged his youngest closer as tears burned and maybe if a few trickled over. It was just because it was dry in the room. Jasper clung just as tight back, but no telling dampness filtered into Dean's thin shirt. The child's eyes were dry.

Castiel stumbled out of the nether very suddenly, into the familiarity of their living room. He reached to his side to catch John as he tumbled down, almost collapsing on the ground save for his father's sure grip on his arms. So brought forth the third Winchester he raised from perdition. This time, Castiel could only bring the boy close and hug him tight and John, seventeen and nearly taller than him now clung back, sobbing gently on his shoulder. Pure relief.

Castiel stood there, while his son cried and wrapped the boy in his arms and multi sets of wings and closed his eyes, probing into John's mind and putting the last horrifying months as far back in a box as he could. This he had been unable to do for Dean for Sam but Castiel would toss himself right back into the pit if he couldn't do it for his boy. John eased then, relaxed the tension fading from his slender body and he finally pulled away a gruff cough slipping out of his throat and ran a hand through his hair. Castiel squeezed his son's shoulder and smiled tightly before releasing the boy entirely.

"How long as it been… here?" John asked, disoriented and Castiel couldn't blame the child being off-kilter.

Castiel contemplated for a moment, "About six days."

"Jesus," John whispered then rolled his eyes at his father's quelling glare before flashing a cocky disarming grin that had Castiel smiling back out of habit.

"How are you?" Castiel asked, suddenly serious, eyes flitting over his son looking for any sign of injury, no matter how small.

"Ah… good…" John answered, seemingly confused then he narrowed his green gaze, "You do something?"

"Yes, but it's for the best. I… I couldn't live with myself if you retained what you were witness to. I'm so sorry John, I had no idea…" Castiel could only shake his head.

After a chase that took days, Castiel finally found the thread of Jerazol's Grace and he almost sent John rocketing back home the moment he felt where it was leading him but John stubborn and refusing bound his own Grace to Castiel's and the only way Castiel could send his son away is if Castiel went with him. John was never to have seen this place, witnessed the torment and devastation that went on down in the depths and bowels of the Earth.

"God can't touch us here," Jerazol growled once they found him, surrounded by demons and the empty vessel of Ashriel at his back, wings scorched in death on the stone beneath their feet. Castiel could only blink at the betrayal, it was all too much. To be here now, with his son it was worse than had Jerazol just killed him outright.

Surrounded by vermin and out of the healing power of Their Father's Grace the battle was hard and drawn out, but Castiel in the end was the victor. The flash of Jerazol's wide brown gaze still scorched over Castiel's mind as he struck the Judas down with his angel blade and saw the holy light flare out of him and cleanse their little spot in Hell. A strange and twisted thing; purity amongst evil yet vile with the taint of blood but still somehow more holy than anything else around.

A moment after Castiel heard the rattles and groans and saw the approach of the darkness, he gripped John, dazed and injured, tight and flew fast from their contaminated Perdition before coming to a relief filled stumble into the living room where they now stood.

"We should go see Dad," John said sheepishly. "I sure he's pissed."

"Yes, that is not outside the realm of possibility," Castiel answered wryly. "The wrath of a Righteous Man be as the hand of God himself."

"Yikes," John shuddered.

"Come John," Castiel said, offering a hand.

John stepped back, holding up both his own, "Maybe you should go first. Alone. Calm him down."

Castiel smiled wryly, "I think you've a much better chance at that than I. Your father won't hesitate to berate me to his full extent but with you there there's a greater likelihood of him taking it easy."

John swallowed, "Right…"

"You two are both chicken shits," an angry voice muttered lowly from the direction of the stairs where Dean stood three from the bottom arms crossed and drawn, weary eyes flashing.

"Hey Dad…" John began.

"Don't you fucking 'Hey Dad' me you little shit. What the fuck happened?" Dean snarled.

John flinched, "Ah…"

"Dean…" Castiel tried.

Dean snorted, "Yeah cuz that'll work. Just spit it out and then we can get over it."

"Jerazol led us to Hell," Castiel said then braced himself for the verbal vitriol which would undoubtedly follow.

"Yeah, don't sugar coat it or anything," John hissed.

"Regardless of how I relayed the information the response would remain the same," Castiel gritted back, giving his eldest a sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye.

Dean just stood there blinking very slowly before he fled up the stairs and a slamming of a door followed in his wake. Castiel and John stood blinking at each other at the unexpected reaction.

"Oh shit," John said. Castiel couldn't even find it in himself to berate his son for the curse because he felt the exact same way.

"Um, perhaps you should try and go to bed John. I think maybe you're initial suggestion was correct. I should speak to your father alone," Castiel said grimly. John nodded slowly.

John wasn't an idiot and he knew his parents' relationship wasn't perfect, they had their share of knock-down, drag-outs and perhaps in a conventional household John would be afraid but theirs had never been a conventional household and no one ever really got hurt. He had heard the stories of the time that his father had beat his dad to a bloody pulp because he was going to say 'yes' to Michael. Or the time his dad had clocked his father in the jaw for being a dick. And the time his father locked his dad in Uncle Bobby's panic room and the subsequent banishment his dad performed on his father in a fit of anger and rebellion. He heard how they had been just a short time before John had been born when his father had made a deal with the very devil that his dad wanted to destroy.

When he was older he had heard the raised voices and snarls and shouts and cries from where he was and there were arguments about pointless things. But Dean and Castiel only really knew one way to argue and perhaps that came from them loving each other so much it hurt and didn't know what to do about it. They were dysfunctional and woefully co-dependent and any psychiatrist and psychologist worth their salt would have a field day on them but they were John's parents. John's family and with them was the safest John had ever felt and the most loved he had ever been. So even though he knew he'd probably have to do that muffled in cotton trick with Mary and Jasper tonight, John nodded and stepped around his father heading to his basement bedroom.

"You'll be okay?" John asked.

"Of course," Castiel replied with a smile.

"I should kick you out on your ass," Dean said, the moment Castiel had found him and crossed the threshold of Jasper's room. Dean was sitting with Jasper against his chest, in their old rocking chair and staring out the window.

"Yes, I imagine you have a banishing sigil painted on our bedroom door at this very moment," Castiel replied.

"Yeah, I'd have to get Jasper and John in lockdown first though, but it's there," Dean said, his voice rough. Castiel was absurdly grateful for the presence of their young son because then at least Dean would stay relatively calm. Castiel wanted nothing more than to go over and sweep Jasper up in his arms and not let go, but Jasper was Dean's at the moment and Castiel would not intrude when Dean needed their still innocent child so much.

"How could you let him see that place Cas? I mean my God, how irresponsible can you be? Why even bring him along in the first place?" Dean glared, finally turning away from the window though his voice was still soft and calm and almost gentle in the night. Castiel was not stupid enough to think it was for his benefit.

"I know. It was… foolish," Castiel flinched at how inadequate that word was.

"You know Mary hasn't left Sam's side for a moment? She's been crying herself sick for days, having nightmares about what happened. Mary Cas the one innocent, pure creature that we have left in this family. Sam's furious that the angels came in here," Dean continued.

"Yes, I imagine he is," Castiel agreed quietly.

"He thinks I should send you on a timeout for a while," Dean replied.

"I see," Castiel nodded.

"He doesn't even know about Hell yet," Dean added.

Castiel swallowed, "Oh, yes, he wouldn't would he…?"

Castiel chose not to bring up that it was Sam's idea in the first place to batten down the hatches and let happen what would happen. Of course that was with the one condition that Mary was nowhere near whatever would happen. Castiel also chose not to mention that they had all been dallying in dealing with the situation and completely ignoring John's insistence that they do something. Pride and overconfidence were again their downfall. Castiel closed his eyes. Bringing any of that up would only seek to incense Dean and that was not at all what Castiel had any intention of doing. Castiel was the biggest, the strongest the oldest and Castiel would take the blame if he must.

"I'm not sure if I'll tell him," Dean whispered.

"Dean, I'll go if that's what you want," Castiel said quietly.

"Okay," Dean said.

Castiel winced and nodded before moving hesitantly forward, "Just let me see Jasper for a moment, please Dean."

Dean looked like he was about to deny the request but he nodded and stood from the rocking chair handing the youngest over to the angel before leaving the room without another word. Jasper awoke the minute Castiel's Grace tingled over his skin and Castiel felt a small element of regret for that but he was also glad he could say a proper hello and ultimately a goodbye to the sweet boy he hadn't seen in months.

"Papa, what's wrong?" Jasper asked, blurrily rubbing a blue, blue eye.

"Um… I made a poor decision and unfortunately I won't be here for a little while. But you'll have your brother and father here. All right?" Castiel said quietly.

"But…" Jasper frowned. "I don't…"

"I know. It's difficult for you to understand, but if you ever need me Jasper, call me down. I promise I will be there in moments."

"I need you now though. Why are you going away?" Jasper frowned more deeply.

"I need to," Castiel said. He would not blame Dean for this, not to his son, Castiel could never do that to Dean.

"Go to sleep. I'm safe and well and so are your brother and father. Everything will be fine," Castiel assured. He carried Jasper over to his bed and tucked him under the sheets dropping a kiss on his forehead.

"Papa!" Jasper said urgently as Castiel took a step back causing the angel to stop instantly.

"Yes Jasper?" Castiel asked.

"I couldn't feel you or John. I… I couldn't tell where you went. I didn't know who to ask why I couldn't. Am I broken?" Jasper said eyes liquid with tears. "The other angel, the one who had me said I don't have angel powers like John did… Is that why I couldn't feel you when you went away? Because you were away and I don't have powers?"

Castiel felt his heart twist and squeeze and shatter into tiny sharp shards in his chest. His stomach rolled uncomfortably as he swallowed down the devastation he felt rolling off of his son. Who needed him so much right now but Castiel couldn't stay. Dean had told him to go. Damn you Dean Winchester.

"Jasper no, you aren't broken, you aren't at all. John had his powers early for whatever reason John had his powers early. Perhaps it was how we lived or my own growing and fluctuating abilities. Perhaps it is because Gabriel brought you to us rather than Our Father. It makes you no less special or important to us Jasper and you will have your abilities when the time is right for you to have them. John was an anomaly, most young angels' powers do not manifest until the equivalent of 7 to 9 human years. You're not even seven yet. You have plenty of growing to do." Castiel smiled and knelt on the floor at his son's bedside, "And Jasper, I feel you, strong and bright and burning, cradled in my Grace. You are just as much an angel as John is and you are just as loved. Don't ever, ever doubt that. Now try to sleep my Sweet Angel. You've had several rough days." Jasper nodded and shut his eyes, settling further into his sheets and mattress.

Castiel leaned forward and pressed another kiss to Jasper's forehead sending a thread of Grace to ease him to sleep. Castiel stepped back and took one more moment to watch his son before he flexed his wings.

Very suddenly a warm, solid body slammed into his back curling strong immoveable arms around his chest and pressing firmly into the skin. The embrace was tight enough to bruise had he been human.

Castiel started and made an abrupt landing on the roof before he could drag Dean up through the burning veil and accidently into Heaven.

"Dean!" Castiel gasped, hands coming up and fluttering to rest over Dean's hands clenched tightly in his jacket.

"Cas, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Dean whispered against his back. "I was just scared. I… John told me what he did. John told me what you did."

"Dean?" Castiel ventured.

"He told me he wouldn't let you do it alone and bound his Grace to you and the only way you'd be able to get him out of there would have hurt you both and then he told me that that's all he remembers because you took everything else away. I thought… I was afraid he'd have to live with what Sam and I have to live with and I was so angry for you taking him there. But you didn't on purpose and we were the ones who fucked up, right? We didn't listen to John and we could have prevented what happened if we listened. Sam and I… we thought too much of ourselves, thought no one would come here or dare to challenge you. So I'm sorry. I just… I thought you died Cas. I thought you and John died and left Jasper and me alone. I thought you left me alone again."

Castiel closed his eyes tight and grabbed tight onto Dean's clenched fists and leaned back into the warm reassurance that was this amazing man at his back. He could read the anxiety and fear in him as if it were his own. He could feel the overwhelming relief that everyone was safe and under one roof again and he could feel Dean's guilt rolling off of him in stomach twisting waves and Castiel settled and stretched out and pressed. Dean gasped as he felt the threads and wisps curl around him and over him and through him and then he felt Castiel turn in his arms and the smaller man seemed to stretch out and fill the entire universe in an instant then warm, black feathers shot through with silver where shadowing the moonlight and resting around him like a lover. Dean felt both sets of massive black wings curl around him and ease whatever tension he had felt wiping everything away in a moment.

Dean glanced up and saw Castiel large and profound and holy before him and shuddered into the heat and warmth and love that echoed there.

Dean nodded and shut his eyes and Castiel smiled.

The End