A/N: So, I've had this chapter written for well over a year, and I just don't feel like it's as good as it should be, but I don't want you guys who have been with me from the beginning to think that I've given up on this story. I haven't, it's just . . . it's sorta a love/hate relationship. I apologize for the HORRENDOUSLY long lulls between chapters.

Daniel 9:9

Dean was practically giddy as he made his way toward the East Gate where he had the Impala parked, with Cas a single pace behind him. He knew he shouldn't have been so pleased with himself for worming his way through a loophole that guaranteed he get his way, but it was rare he found joy in anything these days. So he was going to enjoy himself as best he could. However, much like everything, his satisfaction was short-lived when Castiel brought up a slight issue with their forthcoming crusade.

"Um Dean, do you know how to get to where Lucifer is hiding?" He asked in a hushed tone which Dean figured was due to his apprehensiveness in mentioning something that would derail their journey.

Dean just stood there, boots stuck in the mud looking disgruntled. Cas waited for response watching the eldest Winchester, he seemed concentrated on something concealed within his coat pocket. After a moment of silent digging, Dean remove a crumpled piece of paper from the pocket and smirked once again feeling confident.

"Got the coordinates right here." He held up the thin white paper, "I'll just swing by HQ and grab a map."

He turned on his heel, this time walking towards the main building after securing the paper back into his pocket. Castiel, though, remained where he stood.

"Um, Dean," he said again.

The oldest Winchester turned to him starting to look annoyed. "What Cas, why 20 questions all of the sudden?" The hunters growing irritation was plain as day, even in the night air which made Cas hesitant. The fallen angel knew that Dean didn't like people telling him he couldn't do something. Finally he sighed.

"There's another issue with your plan." Cas was able to mutter.

Dean's brow cocked. "What would that be?"

Castiel bit his lip and looked at the muddy ground as he spoke. "How do you plan on killing the devil without my angel blade?"

The force of the hunters sudden frown was almost enough to make him sink into the wet ground. In his anger over how the vote had gone, and then his sudden excitement about going after Lucifer, he'd forgotten about the most important thing. He'd forgotten that the one instrument that was able to bring the Devils Reign to an end was still missing. Dean mentally kicked himself, what was the point of even going without it? Cas wasn't fully to blame, even if Dean wished he could throw all the blame upon someone other than himself, but he and Sam should have made sure, on top of everything, that the angel blade was always accounted for.

Dean shut his eyes and took a few long breaths. He was too riled up. He had to do something. So, he couldn't run in, guns blazing and end the Apocalypse in one night. He could however take the time and see exactly what they may be up against. There was no guarantee that the coordinates that the demon Thummaz gave them were legit, this was his chance to find out for sure whether the demon was telling the truth or not. Without so much as a "come on" the oldest Winchester took off in more of a rushed pace in the direction of the headquarters building.

The lights were still on inside of the HQ cabin as the two of them neared it. Everywhere else was quietly wrapped in the eerie silence and darkness of night. From the cascading light inside the old cabin two silhouettes lingered on the porch. One was Daryl, obvious by his broad shoulders and gnarly hair, the other was Carol's, small and petite next to the rednecks brute. Neither of them said anything as Dean and Cas reached the porch – they too were silent as the night. Their eyes followed Dean as he barged in through the screen door, breezing past them to enter.

The last time Dean was inside it had been filled with all of Rick's people and all of his own. Now everyone seem to have disappeared apart from Sam, Rick and Bobby. The three of them sat at the table talking quietly until Dean burst through the door. Whatever they had been discussing involved making a list the hunter noted as he walked past, however he didn't concern himself with something so trivial. All he needed was a map.

Sam was the first to stand pushing out of his chair as his brother marched past him without uttering a sound. The eldest Winchester ignored the look of alarm on his brother's face and began his search for a map in one of the cupboards.

"Dean, we really need to talk to you about something." Sam said as his brother removed a folded up Atlas and started making his way back to the door.

"Yeah, will save it. I'm going for a walk." He barked, sounding more upset than he meant. He wasn't sure what kind of face Sam had given him as he walked back out into the night air, he figured it was one he'd seen before. Surely riddled with a mixture of concern and anger. He knew his brother would never approve of him going off on a crusade by himself.

Daryl and Carol had gone by the time Dean returned to the porch, however his angel friend was there leaning on the railing the slightest hint of a smile on his lips.

"You still coming with me?" Dean asked eagerly bounding down the short set of stairs into the grass.

"As always," was all Castiel said as he made his way down the steps falling in pace with Dean as they headed for the old Chevy Impala.

In the darkness of the trees and sky, the ebony painted car was almost invisible. It was parked in between the Green Hyundai and Daryl's motorcycle just off the dirt road leading up to the east gate. If not for the other vehicles the '67 Chevy would have been impossible to spot. As they reached the car Dean handed Cas the map and instructed him to lay it out on the hood while he grabbed a flashlight from the glove box. Unfortunately the only flashlight he managed to find was dim when he turned it on— it would have to suffice. Dean started to pinpoint the location of Lucifer's den once he had the key piece of paper in hand and the map was sprawled out before him.

"We're comin' with ya," a low Gruff voice said from somewhere in the darkness. Cas and Dean's eyes both wondered in the direction of the voice to find Daryl and Carol approaching them.

"What?" Dean asked.

"You heard him," Carol said. " We're coming with you."

The two from Ricks group where in soldier mode. Not only did Daryl have his crossbow hanging from his shoulder, but also a shot gun in hand and a pistol tucked in the wait line of his pants.

Even Carol – who Dean never took as the warrior type—had a small arsenal on her as well.

"You're gon' after the son of a bitch that can stop this right?" Daryl asked. "We want in."

Dean shook his head. "This is just a bit of a reconnaissance kind of thing." He explained hoping it would lower their interest in the affair. He shouldn't have even been planning a recon mission, much less involving some of Ricks people. To Deans displeasure, Carol shrugged. "Then we'll be extra eyes."

The hunter looked the women up and down, sizing her up. She looked so small and frail next to Daryl's broad shoulders. A strong gust of wind would've been enough to make her stumble. How was he to know if she would be more help than hindrance? Dean knew firsthand what Daryl was capable of, Carol however, was uncharted territory.

"Look," Dean finally said. "I'm just not sure you guys will be any help. I already have to watch Cas' back."

Carol glowered, catching onto what Dean was implying. "Daryl can track better than either of you." She said nonchalantly before turning her cold blue eyes to the oldest Winchester. "He's also been helping Rick teach me to shoot. I can hold my own in a fight."

"She's a good shot," Daryl insisted, eyeing Dean.

Dean looked to Cas, for some kind of help, only to be given a meek shrug as a reply. A long sigh blew out of the hunters mouth, his steamy breath circling his head as it dissipated in the cool, night air. "This is my battle guys. Cas' too. We don't need to drag you into it."

That wasn't a lie. As much as he'd hated Sam's idea of the vote, he understood why it was so important. Asking others to fight for something they had no part in causing was wrong. He didn't want Daryl and Carol – or any of the people at camp for that matter— to feel like they had an obligation to stand beside him and fight the devil simply because they'd been unknowingly pulled into it. Nonetheless, the redneck and the housewife stayed steadfast.

"If you don't take us with you, we'll just follow anyway." Carol told him as she crossed her arms with a shrug.

"She's right." Daryl agreed. "You let us go with ya, we can watch each other's backs, make sure we all come back in one piece."

Dean had to give it to them. The two of them were just as stubborn and foolish as he was. Which meant he knew there was no changing their minds. With them along there were more eyes, and more help, they weren't wrong on that. It was two extra lives Dean would be responsible for and that thought was unsettling.

"Fine." Dean huffed. "You can start helping by finding this place on the map." He handed Daryl the piece of paper with the coordinates on it an pointed to the unfolded atlas on the hood of his Impala. "We're here." Dean pointed to a location a little south of Atlanta. "Fort Valley is the name of the town I think."

With the small, ratty paper in hand, he moved it into the beam of light coming from Dean's flashlight so he could read what was written on it. The redneck scratched his goatee, carefully studying the dimly lit map and the numbers he held, before pointing out a location on the east coast.

"Savannah, Georgia." He said tapping the map. There was a hint of confusion in his voice. "Why Savanah? That's gotta be three hours away. At least."

Dean frowned. "If he's after our butts so much, why the hell does he choose to make his hiding place three hours away?"

He and Daryl continued to study the map, all the while continuing to mutter how odd of a location it was for the devil to take up shop.

"Think about it though." Carol said once Dean's yammering had settled. "What's the farthest you've ever sent anyone out on a supply run?"

Dean looked at her, trying to figure out where she was going with her question. "60 miles, 70 tops." He shrugged.

"Well, like you said. The Devil wants to keep tabs on you, while also staying off of your radar."

"Her statement is very valid Dean." Cas said in agreement.

Dean just continued to stare at the creased map in front of him, as if doing so would change Lucifer's location to one that made more since to him.

"I guess. . ." he slowly began folding the map into its original, compacted form. "You guys sure you're up for this?" Dean asked one last time.

"We know what we are getting ourselves into." Daryl assured him.

An uneasy feeling was building up inside Dean again as he got into the driver's seat of the old Chevy. "I hope you're right."

XXXX

The road to Savannah had been fortunately free of demons for the first chunk of miles. The same could not be said about croats. Twenty miles out they came upon a rather impressive herd of the undead. The group parked a good ways back and watched them as they're gnarled corpses lumbered lazily on the street between the trees. For a moment they considered trying to plow through the group, but ultimately they found a detour that was much less populated with the dead creatures. Had they taken the SUV like Carol had suggested, they might have been able to work their way through. Dean's new route however proved to be the best option, despite the few minutes it added to their journey.

The trip had become much less thrilling. The car would've been silent had it not been for one of Dean's old cassette tapes playing softly akin to the quiet.

"You're name's Castiel right?" Daryl said suddenly from the back seat.

"Yes." The angel answered, turning to face the man who had spoken to him.

"You're an angel?" the redneck asked. "How come you can't just smite this prick and end the whole thing?"

Castiel frowned. "I was an angel. Unfortunately as penance for betraying my brothers and sisters, my celestial powers have been stripped from me. Even so, angels cannot smite another. We have a weapon with the power to destroy fellow angels, although it seems I have misplaced mine."

The car was quiet a moment longer and Dean eyed his friend, watching him. He knew how Cas got every time he had to talk about no longer being an angel, and how the emptiness inside him, he'd told Dean about grew each time.

"Is that why we're only going to scope out the area? Because we don't have the weapon we need?" Carol asked.

"That's right." Dean told her. "And don't go blaming Cas." He eyed the gray haired woman through the rearview mirror.

Conversation lulled as they continued down the dark road, passing through a city. It wasn't until Dean pulled off the road and circled back that words were spoken once more.

"What is it?" Daryl asked, looking out the window.

"That was a guns and ammo outlet." He told them as he turned the car around.

"You sure you wanna take the time to go through this?" Carol asked in a tone that suggested they shouldn't.

He parked the car out front and kicked open his door as he spoke. "We'd be fools if we passed this place without a look." He pulled a gun from under his seat in the car and slid the magazine out to check its contence. "We'll just make it a quick stop." He tossed the pistol across to Cas before getting out.

Carol did the same with the handgun she had strapped to her leg, and Daryl readied a crossbow bolt once they'd gotten out. Dean went right to work finding each of them a bag to carry and hopefully fill with valuable loot. The redneck took the orange backpack he was handed and approached the dirty glass doors, frowning.

"Doors chained." He gave the linked rope a few tugs, before rubbing the gritty glass door with his sleeve to peer inside.

Dean quickly threw open the trunk of the old Chevy, propping open the false bottom with sawed-off shot gun. He rummaged through the equipment inside for a moment until he found what he was looking for.

"These should do the trick." He said show casing a set of bolt cutters.

Carol folded her arms and smirked. "Is there anything you don't have in there?"

"This ain't the first time I've broken into a place, sweet heart. Sammy and I used to do it all the time."

For a moment Dean thought back to the good old days. Breaking and entering used to be such a thrill in a sense. Then, he and Sam were breaking in, risking themselves, in order to save someone from something far more fiendish than the person would've even imagined. Now all breaking and entering was, was a way to ensure his own survival, which to him was far less noble.

With Daryls help, he and Dean easily snapped the chain keeping them from going inside. With a ching, the metal rope coiled on the cement ground, and they tossed the bolt cutters back into the trunk. They all got in formation as they prepped to go in, Daryl at the lead, Dean at the rear – weapons drawn.

The scene that greeted them as they entered the weapons dealer was not one they had been expecting. It was dark, but with their flash lights scanning the ground it was easy to make out the large number of people lying still upon it.

"What the hell. . ." Daryl mumbled under his breath, stepping around the mangled corpses.

"They all just gave up." Carol said solemnly. "See." She pointed her flashlight to the smudged, bold hand writing on each of the walls.

"Daniel 9:9?" Dean asked confused as he read the word.

"The Lord our God is merciful and forgiving, even though we have rebelled against him." Cas said softly.

Dean watched his fallen angel friend carefully. He may not have been one to read The Good Book, but he did understand the power it's words had over Cas. There was no doubt Castiel would interpret the invisible words as part of his penance.

"Cas you okay?"

The angel seemed lost within himself for a moment, staring off at the word, but looking at something much farther away.

"Cas?" Dean tried again.

"I'm fine. . ." the angel uttered quietly. It wasn't just the words that seemed to have shaken the angel, but the people lying at his feet as well.

"We should split up." Carol suggested a second later. "There's a supply house or something towards the back. You wanna help me Cas?"

The angel nodded. Dean however scowled. "He's not a very good shot. Maybe you and Daryl should go."

The gray haired woman shook her head. "Don't worry. I'll watch his back." She gave Dean a reassuring smile and tugged Cas by his coat down a nearby hall.

Dean's brotherly instinct kicked in as he watched the two of them walk out of site. Maybe he was just being paranoid. It was just Cas wasn't the best at protecting himself. Carol he trusted, but still hadn't seen how she handled herself in a sticky situation. Daryl seemed confident that she could hold her own, and it wasn't like he didn't know what he was talking about. He just always need to know that Cas and Sam were okay.

As he stood in the middle of the store, gazing almost longingly in the direction Castiel had disappeared, Daryl began truing over bodies to search them for anything useful.

"Don't worry. She'll keep an eye on 'im." He told Dean, pocketing a pack of cigarettes he found on one of the corpses. "You're angel friend is in good hands."

Dean sighed, "I hope so."

Anything that happened to Cas would be his fault. If not for him, Cas would still be the powerful angel that pulled him from Hell and there wasn't a thing Dean could do to give him back that ability. The best he could do was to look out for him now that he was human.

XXX

The storage area that Carol lead him too ended up being more offices. There was a long hall, with doors to separate rooms, spaced out evenly. The area was untouched by the massacre in the room adjacent and it put Castiel a little more at ease not being near the people he'd failed. Both of them walked in silence for a time, Carol carefully watching their surroundings and the angel watching her. The first room they entered had little to nothing of value concealed within the desks and file cabinets and without so much as a sound they moved on to the next room.

"So." The woman began, as they walked. "You're an angel."

Her question seemed more like a statement, to which Castiel nodded once. "Was an angel. I haven't been one for a long time now."

Saying it out loud physically pained him, and his mind wondered back to the wall in the other room.

Carol considered the fallen angel for a moment, her blue eyes measuring him up as they stood in the long hall. "None of us are what we once were." She turned into the nearest room and began systematically checking the cabinets.

Cas followed a few steps behind, frowning at her cryptic response.

"You going to help?" She asked when she realized he was just standing in the doorway. "Or am I going to have to search by myself?"

Cas blinked out of his train of thought. "Apologies." He knelt, and went through a few cabinets as well. There was nothing of real use. A few empty containers and trash, interspersed with mice droppings.

"Well, I've got nothing. How about you?" Carol asked with a kind smile.

Cas shook his head, still unsure about the woman. He sensed there was something more to wanting him as a companion than just to rummage through empty rooms in silence. He took a turn at measuring her up in hopes to unveil the shroud that kept him from reading her.

She stood in the room, quietly, as if she wanted to say something more. Cas hoped she would. Instead, however she moved to the door. "On to the next place."

He waited until they were in the next room before voicing his observation. "Is there something you want to say to me?"

Carol paused mid-search, her back stiffening. Cas waited patiently until she turned to face him. "I do. I just don't know how to ask."

Cas sat on the counter, propping his elbows on his knees and letting his hands hang between them. "I find that, sometimes, talking aloud helps get my thoughts in order." He told Carol, encouraging her to say what was on her mind.

With a slight nod, Carol leaned against the wall across from where Cas had perched himself and crossed her arms. Her eyes locked on the ceiling as she thought. "Before, I used to pray every day. My husband was a… Well, I guess there's no point sugar coating it anymore. He was a royal jackass. Abusive, alcoholic, and he didn't get any better once the world ended. The only reason I stayed with him was because of my daughter. At least, that's what I told myself. The real reason was because I was never strong enough to leave him. So I prayed for strength. Or a miracle to come and rescue Sophia and me."

"I'm sorry. Angels don't like to interfere and-."

Carol held up a hand and stopped Cas's interruption. "That's not what I'm asking. I don't blame you for my life. When my husband was finally killed by the walkers, I felt relieved. I felt like a prayer had been answered." She half-smiled, this time her gaze falling to the floor. "I wasn't really any stronger, but I was free. Even at the end of the world, my daughter and I were going to have a chance at a new life." She paused and Cas wondered if that was the end, but then she continued. "And then my little girl was taken from me." A stray tear slipped down her cheek but she wiped it away quickly. "I couldn't help thinking that if I had been stronger I could have protected her. Maybe she would still be alive if I was what I needed to be from the beginning. But I wasn't and she's dead."

Castiel wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to say that he blamed himself for what had occurred. It was his role in the events leading up to the Devil's victory that would haunt him forever. Even though we have rebelled against him, the verse echoed in his mind. But he could sense that his sympathy and guilt was not what Carol wanted to hear. Instead, he stood and moved to place a hand on her shoulder. "I may not be an angel, and I may not be able to see heaven anymore, but I know that Sophia is there and she is happy. She is reliving her happiest moments free from terror and pain. And she'll be waiting for you when the time comes. I promise you that."

Carol searched the striking blue eyes as if she was looking for a lie hiding behind them. Cas however held his gaze steady, somehow knowing he'd spoken true. She put a hand to her mouth as a wave of emotion took hold and she pulled the fallen angel into a tight hug.

At first, he was shocked and simply stood there limply, but slowly he put his arms around her and returned the embrace.

"Thank you," she whispered, silent sobs shaking her shoulders even though her voice was steady.

For a while they stood there, Cas not wanting to be the one to end the moment. She pulled away and quickly wiped at her eyes, a smile returning.

"We should probably get back. Don't need those boys worrying over us."

Cas managed a smile back. "Yes, Dean is not the most patient person."

A light laugh escaped his companion as they walked back to the room where the guys were waiting on them. "That is one thing Daryl and Dean definitely have in common."

XXX

Dean started doing as Daryl, checking the dead for valuable supplies before truing focus to the surrounding display cases and cabinets. There wasn't too much on the bodies apart from a few knives and the occasional handgun. Hopefully the surrounding shelves would be more lucrative.

With a grunt, Dean moved another body, flipping it over. As he did, the once prone corpse jolted to life, snarling sickly as it reached its dead fingers out, desperate to grasp the lose fabric of the hunters open jacket. Dean hollered, pulling himself away as fast as he could, fighting to unsheathe the blade at his side. The creature lurched forward, crawling across the mangled bodies around it. The gray flesh on one side of its face was shedding off, revealing its grotesque jaw. Dean managed to get his fingers around the handle of his machete just as the Croat was inches from his face. In an instant, a bolt from Daryl's crossbow pierced the creature through the eye, stopping just short of Dean own. The dead man crumbled limply back to ground in a mess of distorted flesh.

Dean's heart was racing, and he wasn't sure if it was because he'd almost become Croat food, or the fact the Daryl had almost inadvertently shot him. The red neck reached out a hand, helping Dean back to his feet.

"Thanks ah. . ." he motioned to the dead creature. "For ah. That."

Daryl pulled the bolt, and kicked the Croat attached to it back to the floor. He grunted and shrugged in response as he cleaned off the bolt with the rag from his back pocket. "So he's for real huh?" he said switching subjects. The redneck sauntered over to a display case housing two rifles and kicked the glass out with is foot to claim them.

"Who?"

"Cas. Err whatever his name is. Bein' an angel."

Dean wondered over to a nearby ammo cabinet and began scavenging through it as he spoke. "Yeah. Like he said, he used to be. But when Sam and I chose this mess, his power kinda went kaput. Gone. The rest of the angles high tailed their feathery asses back to heaven and wouldn't take Cas with them. He thinks it's his fault, but Sam and I are the ones really to blame."

Daryl stood there next to the broken display case, in silence as he listened. It was too dark in the store to really tell what he was thinking, but he seemed to be somewhere else. "So why'd you do it then?" he finally asked. "If you knew what would happen, why'd you go against everything?"

Dean tossed a couple boxes of ammo into his duffle bag. "If we'd gone along with what Heaven and Hell wanted, I would have become the archangel Michael, and Sam would have become Lucifer. Then we would've had to fight until either he or I were killed. So maybe it was selfish on our parts, but I couldn't imagine killing my brother." Dean was fuming. It wasn't Daryl he was angry at, it was the idea of what had so cruelly been thrust upon him and his brother.

Daryl was quiet again. What Dean had said seemed to have struck a nerve with him as well. He turned back to his task of looking for valuables, keeping to himself for a time. He stopped again, his head falling and finally looked across the way to Dean. "I don't blame you." He said softly.

Suddenly the weight on Dean's shoulders lightened ever so slightly hearing him speak those four words. Daryl was the first person, not in the Winchester loop to tell him the way things were, were not his fault.

"Merle maybe a jackass." Daryl continued. "But he's my brother, I wouldn't have done it either."

Dean looked at him and wondered if it would be too much to press him a little more. He'd been intrigued with the Dixon brothers since he'd met them both. Daryl's wall had come down slightly, enough so Dean could understand him a bit more.

"If you don't mind my asking." Dean started, hoping not to scare him back into his shell. "Why is your brother the way he is?" The differences between Daryl and Merle Dixon were few, but evident enough the question was still worth asking.

Daryl pried open another cabinet, finding two pistols and threw them in his orange backpack along with the two rifles from earlier. "He's more like my ol' man than me. Merle don't wanna admit it neither, but he is." He paused a moment, tapping his thumb on the wood shelf in front of him. "Hell. I wasn' far from bein' just like 'im. Took gettin' separated from him to realize I don' wanna be like them."

Dean almost laughed to himself. "Sounds like Sammy." He absentmindedly tossed a few more boxes of ammo into his bag as he reminisced. "He never took to hunting like I did. I'm like my dad, Sam, he wanted a normal life. He went away to college, had a girl, was gonna be a big shot lawyer but I roped him back into huntin'" Dean paused a moment lost in his own thoughts. "I guess what I'm trying to say is I get it."

A while later when Cas and Carol returned to the main part of the armory, Dean and Daryl were sorting through their findings at one of the counters. Thankfully they'd managed to scrounge up more than trash and rodent droppings.

"Good to see you two found some useful items." Carol said. She seemed a little shaken and was doing her best to regain her composure. Daryl almost immediately picked up on her uncertainty and he gently placed his hands on her shoulders.

"You all right?" With a finger softly under her chin he raised her head so her eyes met his own. A small smile touched her lips and she nodded.

Dean strode over to Cas, giving Daryl and Carol some space. "What happened?" he asked the fallen angel.

"She wanted enlightenment." Castiel explained. "She lost her daughter, and I let her know she is safe and happy in heaven."

Dean shifted uncomfortably at the word heaven. "Is it true?"

Cas nodded, watching Carol and Daryl. "Yes, Dean. I believe it is." He paused for a moment more, then turned his gaze back to Dean. "What about you two?" he eyed Daryl pointedly.

It had been no secret the hunter and the redneck could get under each other's skin at times, but upon returning to them Cas could sense a shift in their conjoined auras.

Dean shrugged lightly. "We're good."

Cas waited for him to say more on the matter, but much to his annoyance, Dean went back to the counter to gather what he and the redneck had found without saying anything further about what he and Daryl discussed.

"Better take off." Daryl suggested. "We've still got a bit of a drive to make and not a lot of night cover left."

No one argued with him on that. Each of them grabbed their findings and loaded all in the truck of the Impala, before taking off to find the devil.

XXX

The four survivors stood among a large grove of trees on a hilltop overlooking an old, rundown factory. The building itself was under impressive and in shambles at first glance. Dean however didn't doubt that if Lucifer was inside, it would be heavily guarded with both demons and croats.

The devil was in a vulnerable state. His vessel was dying, which meant he couldn't use his full power without harming himself as well. That gave them an advantage. Their disadvantage was that due to Lucifer being in the predicament he was, his minions would be that much more ample.

"There's a herd of walkers down along the inside of the perimeter fences." Carol said using the scope of her gun to scan the area.

"There's demons at all the entrances too." Dean noted handing his set of binoculars to Daryl so he could assess what they were up against. He peered through the lenses and shrugged.

"We can take down the walkers without too much trouble."

"I thought we were only here to see what we are up against?" Cas reminded them sounding concerned. "We don't have my angel blade."

"Cas is right," Dean sighed. "This was strictly recon. Going in now would be suicide."

Daryl was noticeably put off remembering the terms of the mission. "Fine. So how you plannin' on getting in when we finally this angel blade thing?"

Dean reached out in gesture for Daryl to hand him the binoculars back and peeped back at the factory with them, as if he was searching for an answer to the question.

"Maybe we should check all the way around." Carol offered. "The sun will be up soon. Now's a good time to do it while we still have the cover."

That was really their only option, Dean thought. They couldn't go in, and setting there seemed like the trip was a waste of time. If they had any luck left they might find a lax in Satan's security. It wasn't likely, but it was their best chance at getting in when the time came.

With Daryl at the lead, navigating them all through the thin cover of trees, they scouted the factory's surroundings. Every few minutes they'd stop and use the binoculars and gun scopes to look for their loophole.

The small group of them were nearing the back of the facility when Cas tapped Dean on the shoulder. "Dean." He said softly. "There is another variable in play we have not yet discussed."

"Yeah? And what would that be?" Dean quipped falling in stride with the fallen angel.

Daryl and Carol's pace was faster by a step or two, but Dean kept them within eye sight as he slowed to talk with his friend.

"Lucifer's vessel." Castiel said. "We still don't know who it is, but a thought occurred to me. His vessel has to be a younger sibling."

Dean was slightly lost. " What makes you think that?"

"You and Sam. Sam is your younger brother and was the devils true vessel the first time around. If it runs with bloodlines, than there has to be an older sibling available for Michael. He may not need Sam anymore but the pattern has to stay the same."

Dean stood idle, possessing what Castiel had just told him. It that was how vessels for archangels worked than he could eliminate a large number of people back at camp. He started running through the siblings he knew of back home. He doubted very much that the vessels would be children, so that eliminated Judith and Carol, as well as a few other kids. There was a set of twins – they may have been born the same day but one still had to be older than the other even if it was just by minuets. Then there was Beth and Maggie. Beth was the younger, and in Deans mind even she was too young to be a vessel. That left Daryl and Merle. Daryl was the youngest in that pair, different from his father, unlike his brother, and suddenly Dean was very aware that Carol and Daryl were no longer in his sight.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean started running in the direction the two were walking.

"What?!" Cas, confused raced after him.

Dawn was breaking on the horizon when Dean found Carol waiting alone by a large boulder.

"Where's Daryl?" Dean asked sternly, looking around.

"He saw that security booth down there and went to check if there were blue prints or a layout of the facility inside."

Dean gritted his teeth. "We need to get him, and leave immediately."

"What's wrong?" she asked, concern flooding her voice.

Cas caught up, out of breath asking the same question.

"Daryl might be in trouble and we need to get him out of here right now."

The blue security booth that the redneck had volunteered to loot was just down the small hill and all too near the chain-link fence that circled the facility. Ironically, there was no one keeping watch from the old booth as far as they could tell, but it was still far too close to danger than Dean wanted to get.

"Why is he in trouble?" Carol asked as the three of them snuck down to the small building.

Dean ignored her, focusing solely on the mission at hand. He never should've let them tag along, if they were back at camp then at least he would've known they were safe.

"Daryl." Dean said in a hushed holler, as they neared the booth. The small blue building remained silent and he tried again. "Daryl, damnit, answer me."

Again, the booth was silent. Dean felt sick. This was his fault. He'd left them out of sight and now Daryl was gone.

"Dean." Cas said as they moved to look inside.

Next to a rolled up blue print was a tattered, red rag. Carol shoved herself around Dean and picked up the ratty fabric, clutching it close to her chest. "This is Daryl's."

Dean bent of over, unrolling the blueprints as he retrieved them. "Looks like he found what he was looking for." Angrily he kicked a metal filing cabinet. "Son of a bitch!" Why had he not thought of it sooner? Why had it taken so long? Cas even thought of it before he had, and now it was too late.

"Why did they take him?" Carols voice was hard and stern.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "I think, he's Lucifer's vessel."

Carol looked as though someone had just punched her. "What?"

"He fits the type." Dean admitted. "Youngest sibling, rebellious of his father. . ."

"Why did you let him come if you knew?" She was visibly mad, and scared, but her anger seemed to be at the reigns. Her blue eyes pierced him to the bone, their heavy leer making him feel even worse.

"I didn't know until a bit ago. Had I known, I never would have let him come. You have to trust me on that."

Her composure fell a little and Dean took that as a sign she did trust him.

"So what do we do?" she folded Daryl's rag and put it in the back pocket of her pants waiting for a response.

"Get back to the Impala." Cas suggested. "Standing here only makes us a target, and soon we'll lose what's left of the night."

The three of them trekked back around to where the old Chevy was waiting for them by the road, walking faster than they had before. They would be of no help to Daryl if they got themselves taken or killed and the clock was really ticking. Now that Lucifer had what he needed they had to race against time to save their friend. Dean could only hope that Daryl resist the devil long enough for them to do what needed to be done. Old Lucifer still couldn't use a vessel unless he had consent. Cas assured them that rule still proved true. While that didn't make anyone feel better about the situation, at least it bought them time. By the time they made it back to the Impala, the sun was well into the sky. As they stood there, the same question still lingered in Dean and Carols mind; what were they going to do next.

"You guys go back to camp." Castiel instructed as if he'd read their inner monologue.

"And what are you gonna do? Stay here?" Dean scoffed.

"Yes."

"Like hell you are."

"Dean, I have to do this." Cas told him.

The hunter frowned. "Don't pull that stupid penance crap. As far as I'm concerned Heaven ain't worth it!"

Castiel stayed steadfast, his blue eyes locked with Deans. "This isn't about penance this time. I need to do this because I haven't been as much help as I should have with you and Sam. This is my fault for not seeing it sooner. I'm sorry I got your friend involved with this." He turned to face Carol. "You and Dean go back and bring the others. I'll wait and see if anything changes. If he gets free, it's best he's not out here alone and we'll be right behind you."

Carol softened under Castiels sad gaze. It was obvious the angels mind was set. Dean would never forgive himself if anything happened to Cas. To some extent he understood why Cas felt he needed to stay behind, and if he couldn't be there to protect him, Dean was sure as hell gonna make sure he had a small armory on him.

Dean opened the trunk of his car and removed the duffel bag filled with weapons for any type of monster and handed it to the fallen angel. "Here. You know how to use all this stuff."

Cas almost smiled. "Thank you, Dean."

The hunter let out a long, heavy breath and pulled his friend into a tight hug. "You better be here when I get back."

Even Carol pulled Cas into a quick embrace, and kissed him on the forehead. "Be safe."

Cas lugged the heavy duffle bag over his shoulder and assured them he would keep out of sight and look out for their friend until they returned.

XXX

The Lord God is merciful and forgiving.

The verse echoed in Cas's mind as he walked back to where he and Dean had found Carol waiting alone. He listened to the birds chirping overhead, seemingly uncaring about his presence. They flitted from one side of the path to the other only to get lost among the few brown and golden leaves still clinging to the branches above him. This place really is beautiful, he couldn't help but think to himself, appreciating the sunlit patterns covering the forest floor. Seldom did he stop to take in the beauty of the planet God had made. His time with the Winchesters had taught him a great deal, but an appreciation for nature had not been one of those things. His love of nature had grown within him after the apocalypse, he often sought solitude among the trees to help him cope with what had happened. For a while, he enjoyed working in the garden with Ellen back at camp when they first arrived, it wasn't until things went downhill and Croats started popping up all over the place he had replaced the hobby with drinking.

He reached the large rock at the top of the hill and he looked out to the factory. Things were eerily quiet. There wasn't even the slightest trace of any malicious being residing inside the buildings walls. With a deep breath, and a tug on the strap of the duffle bag Dean had given him he slowly trekked down the grassy incline, careful not to fall.

Near the security booth Daryl had vanished from sat a disheveled concrete bench. It was partially covered in damp moss and the white paint was starting to chip away from it. Nonetheless the old bench sturdy enough to hold him— sitting beat standing— and it offered a good vantage point for milling the yard beyond the chain-link fence if a heard of Croats or demons showed. Or if by chance Daryl made an escape.

The ones we failed to protect. In a way, Daryl was just another name added to a long list of victims. What made it worse was, this time it was more than just a name. He was a friend, and ally and most likely the new vessel for Lucifer. In truth he had sent Dean and Carol for help without him because he didn't want to get in the way. He knew he was more of a burden to Dean without his celestial power, the least he could manage was to sit and keep watch. He was good at that. Keeping an eye out for their friend also gave him time to sit among nature and think.

A sigh escaped Cas' lips and he let his head hang. How do I fix this?

For the first time in a long while, Castiel thought about praying. He had long ago given up on communicating with Heaven in any way. Not that he thought he wouldn't be heard. Those devout in religion were correct in assuming all prayers were heard, they just weren't heard by God. It was angels who listened. Angels that Castiel had failed. Angles he had betrayed in the name of two boys.

Merciful.

The canteen he'd clipped to his belt, now sloshed as he took a drink. The water dribbled down his chin as he drank, the droplets falling onto the fabric of his shirt and he wiped it away. It had taken a while for him to get used to human necessities, but he had learned quickly the importance of hydration. He needed to conserve water. There was no way to tell exactly how long Dean would be. It had taken them three hours just to get to the old factory, and there were plenty of opportunities for him to be waylaid between Croats and demons. Not to mention having to round up people for a rescue mission, get supplies and come up with a plan. No doubt Rick's group would be more than willing now that one of their own had been taken.

Forgiving.

Castiel sensed the presence before he could tell who or what it was. One of his leftover abilities. A symptom of residual grace. He maintained a forward gaze, watching the factory yard as he was supposed to. Slowly he moved his hand over to the pistol secured to his leg. He dared not to turn, people often found it unnerving if he appeared to be alert to their presence before they were aware of him.

"Well son of a gun," the elder Dixon brother exclaimed when he noticed Cas. "Looky who we have here. Didn't expect to see you this far from home sweet home."

The ex-angel glanced at the single handed man before returning his gaze to the factory. "I could say the same about you. This is quite far from camp."

Cas didn't much care for Daryl's older brother. Not after he'd threatened his friends and given him a bloody nose a while back.

Merle seemed to notice the angels displeasure and he chuckled as he stepped closer. "Well, I don' exactly like bein' cooped up. Anyone can tell ya that. I just thought I'd do a little huntin' is all."

Cas hummed in thought, noticing a small group of croats slowly shuffling around the furthest corner of the factory. Something was agitating them, "Hunting animals?" Cas didn't move his sight away from the herd of the dead.

"You doubtin' me?" The man's false smile completely disappeared. "'Cause I don' think you have the right to doubt after all the shit you and your people lied 'bout. In fact, I don' think I believe the whole story. I'm beginnin' to think somethin' else is goin' on that you're not tellin' me."

Cas turned his unblinking scowl to the man behind him, taking notice of his lack of kills from his so called hunting trip. "I can assure you, we have told you the truth."

"Right," Merle scoffed. "So then why don' you tell me what yer doin' out here."

"I am watching out for your brother." Castiel turned back to watching the Croats as they shuffled closer. He was growing tired of the distraction Merle was causing He'd given himself a job and he didn't want the pig headed Dixon brother to screw it up.

"Daryl's here?" Merles tone shifted, and his piercing eyes scanned the area.

Cas hesitated. He had never been good at delivering news of any sort, much less bad. "Uh, your brother. Yes." He frowned, as he stumbled over his words trying to find the right ones.

"Where's my brother, huh? Thought you wasn't keepin' secrets no more?" Merle took a step forward, his eyes narrowed.

"Daryl, we think, was taken by the demons we have reason to believe they are holding him in the factory there."

The Dixon brother stared open mouthed between Cas and the factory. "They took him?" He waited for Cas to give a slight nod. "What the Hell're they hidin' in there?" Anger was seething through him. His hand was balling into a fist and his jaw clenched tight.

Suddenly Cas wasn't sure how he should answer. He took a shot at lying. Sam and Dean made that work all the time. "I don't know what you mean."

Merle forcefully grabbed Cas by the front of his shirt, startling the fallen angel. "Listen. I know there's somethin' in there yer boy is interested in. I found the coordinates when in his pocket when I stole the knife. So you best be tellin' me what it is and why they took my baby brother." He shoved Cas back to the bench.

"Knife?" Cas frowned.

Merle pulled out Ruby's knife and spun it in his hand expertly. "What's in the factory?"

He hesitated at first, unwilling to give information that could further jeopardize the mission, but finally relented, knowing the man wouldn't give up. "The Devil." He admitted. "We think your brother is his next vessel."

"What?" The bullish man furrowed his eyebrows.

"The demons have reason to believe Daryl could replace the current body Lucifer is inhabiting." Cas explained.

"You tellin' me my brother is goin' to be a meat suit for the Devil?"

Cas nodded slightly. "That is their plan."

"And you let them take 'im?!" Merle made a sudden move and trapped Cas's between the knife on his arm and Ruby's knife in his hand.

Cas swallowed, feeling the cool blades against his skin. "We didn't see them take him. He wondered off by himself, by the time we knew he was already gone."

Castiels explanation only seemed to more fuel to the fire.

"But you left him. That's on you." He pressed the blades closer to Cas's throat. "I don' see no rescue mission goin' down. Just you sittin' here enjoyin' the sun."

"Dean and Carol." Cas said quickly, "They went back for reinforcements. We couldn't just barge in there and-"

"Sounds like excuses to me." Merle's jaw clenched. "Well, I ain't waitin'. I'm goin' after my brother."

Cas couldn't think of a worse idea to have. Merle may have had the brute strength and some kind of weapons training, but he was no hunter like Sam or Dean.

"You should really wait until Dean gets back, you don't know what you're up against," Cas stammered.

The man's eyes narrowed even more. "I don' think they know what they're up against. Daryl's my blood, and I'll fight like hell to get him back." He lowered the knives on Cas' throat "I can't have you tryin' to stop me either." Before Castiel even had a chance to steady himself after Merle'd let him go, Daryl's brother punched him across the face with the hilt of Ruby's knife. The force of his hit knocked Cas sideways and before he met the ground his head collided with the concrete bench and everything went dark.

XXX

Dean was more than eager to get back to camp with Daryl captured and Cas left alone. His stress level was at its highest. His foot was heavy on the pedal as he pushed the Impala to her limits, racing almost against time itself. The empty streets stretching out before him were a blessing. By some marital they'd stayed clear for their hasty return. This time no tape played as the two rushed back to their safe zone, only silence and the roar of the Chevy's engine echoed around them. Every once and a while they'd catch each other's gaze, both knowing what the other was feeling.

"What the?" Dean pressed the brakes hard enough, Carol had to brace herself against the dash and the screech boomed louder than the engine. They sat staring at the familiar green SUV in front of them as it too skidded to a quick stop.

Dean watched as his brother, Rick and Michonne got out of the Hyundai. Sam looked less than pleased and Dean didn't blame him at all. His whole recon mission had been selfish, and now he was paying for it. Sam was yelling at him even before he got out of the old Chevy. Dean wasn't about to argue this time, there was no time.

"Sam." He said as calmly as he could. "You can be pissed at me all you want but we've got bigger problems."

XXX

There was no telling how long after his attack it took Cas' blue eyes to blink open. However long it was it had given Merle enough time to disappear. Glancing around, though his blurred vision he could tell that the herd of croats had moved on, and thankfully no demons were within eye sight. Cas winced as he sat up, using the bench as an anchor for support. His head was ringing. Gingerly he felt first his cheek, then his temple. Hopefully, any bruises that formed would blend in with the stubble and grime of his face. He would already have a hard enough time explaining the new circumstances to Dean.

Even though we have rebelled against him.

Much to his surprise, the pistols and bullets were still in their holsters, though the canteen was gone. Along with the bag of weapons Dean had left him. He groaned as he stood, feeling more pain in his shoulder. Apparently he'd hit more than just his head when Merle had punched him. He rolled his shoulder getting himself used to the discomfort so he could press on. The fallen angel pulled out a pistol and carefully checked the bullets like Dean had taught him. A million things were about in his ringing head as he stood there, idle for a while as the sun beat down upon him. Castiel took one final moment to collect himself before beginning his walk around the fence in search of Merle or Daryl. He still had a job to do.

Even though we have rebelled against Him.

This time the birds were silent as he walked along the wire fence. His eyes strayed to the clouds above. Even his own soldiers? Even me?

A/N: Sorry the end is so choppy.