Notes: Sorry about the day late post, life just kinda got in the way XD So this is the re-write of Ariel! So we get to enjoy epic heists and such! Sadly this story took a darker turn than I expected, but I'm going to try and fix that in the end, maybe by adding in a couple extra chapters that have nothing to do with the original script. We shall see! I just need some fun times for the crew. They've got a rough road ahead and I wanna give them some sort of break.

Disclaimer: My very fancy and expensive, Stanford educated lawyers tell me that...I own nothing and that they won't work for me again because I have no money to pay. Very tragic.

Chapter 1

To say that the last couple of weeks on the ship hadn't been a bit on the rocky side would be an outright offensive lie and Dean would punch anyone who said otherwise. The Captain was on edge to say the least. In the days after his injury, Dean had been so hocked up on painkillers and such that he was in his own blissfully unaware cloud that kept him from seeing the damage that had smeared over his ship. However, when Gabriel had recovered, he had been able to fix up Dean to the point where he only felt a twinge where he was shot and that was when the Captain's eyes were opened.

It wasn't just the fire scorched on the walls, or the mish-mosh in the engine room where Chuck was in the throes of a full examination of the ship, or even the blood stains that Dean had left behind while crawling around with his guts pouring out. It was a whole host of other things.

Sam and Gabriel were in the midst of an "I hate you so much for being so stupid, but I love you so much for what you did, but I still hate you" fight. After the pilot had been okayed by the Sheppard, Sam had dropped the doting nurse-maid façade and started reaming out Gabriel for jumping in and taking the damage like he had. And of course Gabriel was annoyed that in saving Sam's life, all he was getting in return were bitchfaces and a definite lack of hero sex-capades.

Dean was damn close to getting Anna to open up marriage counseling sessions in her zen-zone of a shuttle. It wouldn't be so bad if Dean couldn't tell how badly his little brother was suffering. The explosion and Gabe going down the way he did…it had brought up dark memories for Sam of past sufferings. Gabriel knew this, but no amount of comfort, apologies or words would bring Sam out of his funk. It would just take some time for Sam to absorb all that had happened and move on. Sadly, Gabriel wasn't exactly the most patient person.

Then there was Balthazar. The poor guy had gone through way too much in the last few weeks that everyone was amazed that he hadn't snapped and gone into hysterical fits of giggling or crying. He had doted on both of his brothers while they were recovering from the worst of the injuries, and he had done it all with a content smile. Happy to actually have both of them still alive and breathing.

That's not to say he wasn't still frazzled and frayed around the edges. He still would flinch every time he walked by the infirmary or that time Gabriel lost his footing on the stairs. The pilot had caught himself before he even fell a single step, but Dean could practically hear the other man's heart break out into a loud and panicked rhythm.

But his worst reactions by far were with Castiel. Dean's whole body would still send a shiver down his spine each time he was reminded of what Cas had gone through.

Cas was still recovering, very slowly. According to him, he still didn't even have enough mojo to heal up a paper cut, let alone heal up Dean like he had wanted to do. And the whole crew could see how drained he was just by looking at him.

It was becoming a long and arduous task to get weight back onto his slight frame, mostly because he was sleeping a lot, or he just refused to eat. His hands still shook slightly when Dean saw him fiddling with his coat or moving a chess piece across the board during one of their games, and he was still as white as paper. Dean had finally had enough of Cas' cold hands when the other man had accidentally brushed his freezing fingers over Dean's neck and the shock of temperature made even the Captain shiver. Dean immediately sought out the old box of "winter" clothes and picked out the fuzziest mittens he could find and slapped them onto Cas. Now there was even more frustration with trying to get him to keep them on. Dean was only a hairs breadth away from taping them onto Cas' wrists.

Then there was the horrific realization that Cas' back was still a big problem for him when on that one night that Dean had accidentally fallen asleep in Cas' room, he had been awoken by his roommate moaning and writhing in pain. Massages did little to help anymore besides put Cas' to sleep for a while and with Cas' continuous refusal of drugs, there was little more to do besides that. But everyone could see that it was getting worse.

His behavior was alarming everyone. Of course they understood that he was probably cranky and tired from the drain on his body and the pain in his back, and that the lack of mojo was a constant strain on his mind, but all the easy explanations did nothing to comfort them. Dean had heard whisperings around the ship as to whether Cas' mojo would come back at all. That perhaps it had all been drained away and that's why after three weeks there was little improvement. The Captain had to admit that he had been thinking the same thing, but he wasn't willing to say it out loud just yet.

And as if worrying about Cas wasn't enough, now Dean was catching up on his captain's logs only to see that they had no money left, and they were short on fuel and parts for Chuck, not to mention the low food supply and the need to re-stock the infirmary. They needed a job, and fast, but Dean wasn't sure if his crew was ready yet. In all different ways, they were each recovering from the explosion.

Chuck had chosen to finally take a break from his tinkering in the engine room to sit in the dining area for a bit before lunch. Upon entering the room he saw that his idea was far from original when he saw all of the rest of the crew had already gathered and were puttering over one thing or another.

Wearily, Chuck sat down across the table from Meg, who was aggressively cleaning several of her guns. Too tired to produce the normal nervous feeling he got when Meg a gun in her hands, the mechanic just slumped at his seat and watched the game of Mah Jong that Anna, Bobby, Sam and Gabriel were playing together.

An odd smell from the kitchen drew his attention and he turned to glance at Balthazar who was stirring something in a pot at the stove. Chuck hoped that whatever was in that wasn't lunch for everyone.

Dean and Cas were over on the couches where the Captain was trying to get a fidgety Castiel to take his turn for the game they were playing. Obviously Cas wasn't in the mood and kept glancing away to stare at the wall or reaching his hands around his back to rub away at the pressure. Dean still seemed to be determined to distract his friend and snapped his fingers sharply and slapped the dice in the other man's gloved hands.

"Boy, what the hell are you cooking?"

Bobby's sudden question snapped everyone's attention to Balthazar as he stood at the stove. The posh man rolled his eyes, "Exactly what you told me to cook. I followed each direction to a T, and with our limited resources, I'm actually somewhat impressed with myself."

"Stew ain't supposed to smell…or look like that," the preacher grumbled and got up from his spot at the table to inspect the meal.

Exasperated, Balthazar tossed the spoon down into the stew causing some drops to fly out and mess up the counter top, "You told me that it would be a little thick, that this way would hold the most colories."

Bobby wrinkled up his nose, "Right. That certainly will fatten him up if those blobs there are fat deposits like I think, and hope, they are."

"Excellent. Cassy dear, I need you to come over here. I've made up a special lunch for you," Balthazar called across the room.

Cas turned his head slightly away from the wall to glance at the stove before sticking out his tongue and turning back. Dean saw this and sighed heavily, "Cas, you need to eat something."

"The sacrifice of the food was admirable, but unnecessary. I am unsatisfied with the offerings and therefore the drought will continue," he stated hotily and finally tossed to dice across the board with perhaps a little more force than necessary.

"Cassy, please…"

"Did you know cows spend approximately 18 hours a day chewing? That sounds very tiring."

"Castiel…," growled Gabriel from the table. His elder brother's tone seemed to be enough to finally get the petulant Cas to get up from the couch and move over to the counter, a snarl upon his face.

Balthazar held up a spoonful of the thick brown goop and Cas stared at it like he could smite it with his gaze.

"I don't want any."

"Cassy, you have to eat. It's good. It tastes like…," hesitantly Balthazar took a taste and immediately schooled his features to hide the horrendous distaste, "…it's good?" He headged.

From over at the table a loud and obnoxious snort came from Meg, "Smells like crotch."

"Meg," scolded Bobby, just as eager to get some sort of food into the young man.

She shrugged, unaffected, "Well, it does."

The crew shook their heads and went back to whatever they were doing while Balthazar continued his quest, this time trying shuttle noises as he moved the spoon up to Cas' lips. Unable to watch the middle Novak's struggling, Dean pulled up a chair at the table next to Sam and Gabriel.

As she lay down her next tile, Anna brought up a new topic, "So Captain. It's that time of year again," she started.

Dean groaned. He knew what she was talking about, "Already? Didn't we do that last year?"

The Companion giggled, "Well that's the funny thing about yearly things…they come every year. So do we know the nearest core planet?"

Sam and Gabriel exchanged pondering looks, "Um, I think Ariel is the closest one. It's maybe two days from here." guessed Sam. This seemed to please the Companion and a few others in the room.

Ariel was a well known core planet. It was often likened to being the ancient "New York City" of Earth that Was to the new universe. It was an entire planet covered in enormous gleaming tall skyscrapers and modern buildings, luscious green parks, and was lead in everything modern, be it science, fashion, medicine, or education.

An idea sparked for Gabriel, "That's great! I haven't been there since I was a teen," eagerly he turned to Sam, "You and me, we can go on a legitimate romantic outing together. I know you'd like that. We don't even have to go someplace fancy. We can just go to one of the parks of something. Feed the pigeons. Climb trees and drop stuff on people who walk by."

Sam didn't look the least bit interested, "Yeah, sure. Feed the pigeons. Then we'd probably get the firing squad for littering."

Gabriel tried again, pulling his seat closer, "Oh, come on. It's not that bad."

Sam turned to face him, his expression completely serious, "It is. It's a core planet. It's got sensors, and where there aren't sensors, there are feds. And are you forgetting that said feds might just be looking for your mug in every corner?"

"I can wear a hat and sunglasses like the celebrities," he turned to Anna, begging the Companion for some help, "Anna, you've been there. Could you please tell Sammy about the fun he's missing out on?"

She smiles and glances over at the younger Winchester, "Ariel's actually quite a nice place. There are some beautiful museums, not to mention some of the finest restaurants in the Core."

Gabriel screwed up his face in distaste, "But…not boring, like she made it sound. There's ah…um…" he looked to the others for help.

Floundering Bobby racked his brain for more, "Uh, there's hiking."

"Yes!" shouted Gabriel enthusiastically.

"And you can go swimming in a bioluminescent lake," added Chuck.

Gabriel continued to nod encouragingly, but Sam wasn't even looking up from the tiles he held in his hands, "I don't care if it's got sunsets twenty-four hours a day. I'm not setting foot on that planet."

"No one is setting foot on that fancy rock. I don't want anyone leaving the ship. Come to think of it, I don't want anyone looking out of the windows or talking loud. We're going there to drop off Anna, and that's it," stated Dean firmly.

Dean watched as his whole crew deflated, but he wasn't about to give in and let them all dash through the streets together holding hands and bumping into each and every fed along the way. There hadn't been any fresh waves in the last couple months of wanted posters for the two younger Novaks, but Dean was far from comfortable letting even peak their heads out of the ramp for some fresh air. Especially when Cas was in such rough shape, and the rest of them were still shaken from their last adventure. Hell, Dean was even concerned that Meg might get snatched up for some charge or another and then Dean would have to bale her out with all the money he didn't have. It was just too damn risky, and Sam knew that too. There was no way that either Winchester was about to let the Novaks out of their sight or off of this boat.

Meg grunted at the news and turned her attention to her favorite knife and set about to cleaning it, starting by licking up the sharp end. Cas watched her actions from across the room, his eyes growing dark.

Chuck had turned his attention to Anna, "So, how long are you going to be planetside?"

She seemed to think it over a moment, "Shouldn't be more than a day or two."

Balthazar has completely lost Cas' attention at this point and has decided to just let his little brother continue to stare at the wall for a bit and joined the others at the table.

Nobody noticed as Cas' dragged his attention away from the panels to stare at Meg.

Dean snorted, "Big stop to renew your license to companion…Can I use companion as a verb?" he joked.

She smirked at the Captain, "It's Guild law. All Companions are required to undergo a physical examination once a year."

Meg hocked loudly and spat on her knife again.

Gabriel glared at her, "Could you not do that while we're…ever?"

She glared right back, looking straight into Gabriel's eyes as she spit on the knife once again, getting a very large glob on it. Gabriel stares appalled and then finally looks away.

With nobody paying attention to him, Cas wanders slowly over to the cutlery bin and traces his fingers over the knives in the drawers.

"Two whole days in a hospital? That sucks! And here I thought you had the best job in the world," said Balthazar sounding shocked.

Cas drew out one of the knives.

"It's not so bad as long as the doctor has warm hands. I just hate the gowns that we have to wear. It's a big deal for me to go from wearing silk to basically wearing paper."

"Oh, yeah. And I hate how they open in the back. I mean, I appreciate a good breeze now and then, but usually it's in private company."

"Dude, I just hate the needles. Are you going to be getting any shots? Wait, don't tell me. I don't want to know cause it'll probably give me nightmares."

Cas walked over to the wall that he had been staring at for the last hour and drew the blade over the inside of his arm, drawing up a thick line of blood. He places the knife down on the floor next to him.

"You're such a wus, Chuck. Nothing wrong with needles."

"There is plenty wrong with them! Their too sharp, and the not good kind of shiny, and they hurt!"

Dipping two fingers into the pooled up blood, Cas began to draw.

"I don't even mind the needles that much. Just as long as I have a lovely nurse there. Oh, how I love women dressed in white…"

A soft muttering drifted into Dean's ear over the conversations of the rest of the crew. He figured that Cas was probably upset again or his back was hurting, so the Captain turned to check on him, but instead of seeing Cas staring at the wall where they left him, he was painting on the wall with something that looked sort of black from where he sat.

Dean slowly got up from his seat and walked over, internally praying that whatever substance Cas was using to paint didn't stain walls.

He stopped just behind Cas' shoulder to glance at the growing design, "Um, Cas? What are you painting?"

Cas didn't turn around to answer, just kept painting, "Sigils. To ward off the evil that approaches. This should keep them from coming on the ship."

"You're worried about the feds?"

Cas paused mid-stroke, "There are things worse than the feds." Then he pulled his fingers back when they ran out of paint and dipped them into something Dean couldn't see before continuing. Dean looked closer at the symbol on the wall, noting the odd markings that reminded him of those old Greek letters his dad had shown him once. He moved up closer to inspect one in particular when he caught scent of something coppery, and then he saw how the black markings when spread thinly turn to a dark red, a blood red. That's when he noticed the bloody knife on the floor.

He grabbed Cas' shoulder and spun him around, zoning in on the blood now dripping down Cas' arm and staining the cuff of his sleeve, "What the fuck, Cas!?"

The rest of the crew heard the shout and turned to see a frantic Dean grabbing a towel and slapping it over the wound.

"It's necessary to make it work, Dean. I'm always happy to bleed for the Winchesters."

"You don't ever have to bleed for us!" Dean snarled and grabbed Cas roughly, pushing him towards the infirmary, "Gabriel, Bobby. I'm going to need your help," he shouted back to his confused crew. Then he stormed out dragging the still bleeding Castiel behind him.

whooo! First chapter done! Review if you like! :)