The sky was a pale blue as Bobby and Sam drove back home that morning, the last place Dean could logically be. Both of them were barely awake after driving around all night, looking for Sam's unstable brother. Bobby rubbed his eyes furiously once he parked his car in the familiar scrap yard.

"I'm too old for this shit," the old man said. He looked over to Sam, who was feeling much the same, his head leaned back against the passenger seat.

"Right now, all I want is for Dean to be home, that way I can strangle him," said Sam, stepping out of the vehicle and stretching. "Wait, do you see that?"

Bobby stood from the car, "See what?" he asked as his eyes scanned for what Sam was referring to, following behind the tall moose of a man.

"The Impala, it's been…" Sam cut off as they got closer to the black car. It had all windows smashed and broken, dents littered the hood and side panels, even a rim was busted up.

"Demolished," Bobby finished, staring with his mouth agape at the classic car. His eyes wandered over the ground, a crowbar insight. "Take a look at this," he held it up for Sam to see.

"If that's the worst thing we come across when we find him, that's the least of our worries," said Sam as he walked past the Impala, stopping in his tracks as he noticed the body of the redheaded bartender they spoke with the day before. "Bobby!" Sam pointed to the corpse, both of them staring at the angel wing scorch marks on the ground.

"Well this just went from bad to worse. Let's check inside, quick," the old man said as they hurried to the house. They stormed into the house, startled when they saw Castiel standing in the kitchen, supplies for the weapon laid out on the table in front of him.

"Cas?! You're alive!" Sam gawked, unsure of what he saw in front of him was an illusion or not. The angel was dressed in what Sam assumed to be his older brother's old dark blue jeans and black Led Zeppelin t-shirt.

"I have acquired sand from the Nile, wax from fourteen ceremonial candles, talons from a falcon that starved to death, medesium, storax oil, and lastly Osiris's crook and flail," Cas said, pointing to each item on the table.

Sam took a step forward; his eyes glued to the angel while Bobby grabbed a tumbler from the counter and poured two fingers of whiskey, taking a deep sip. "Where the hell have you been?" he asked after another swig.

"I did not mean to cause any worry. I was summoned by another angel after being pursued, which was why I did not come immediately," the dark haired angel explained.

"Have you seen Dean? Is he okay?" Sam asked hurriedly.

"Dean is doing well. He is currently resting," Castiel answered plainly.

With a small laugh, Sam ran his fingers through his hair and looked down, a wave of relief washing over him as he realized Dean was safe, "Thank god."

"I'm gonna go crash now," Bobby said as he walked out the room, stopping and turning back to the angel and tall man, "Oh, and send his ass down here when he wakes up. He's in for the ass kicking of his life," he half joked as he headed to his room, glass in hand.

"Mind telling me what happened?" Sam asked, surveying the ingredients on the table.

"I was ambushed while collecting supplies," the angel began explaining, "For fear of leading the angels back here, I had to keep them on the run. It's good you warded the Book against angels, because they figured out that it was no longer in my possession. Hex bags aren't very effective when they already know where you are."

"The angels still after the Book?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I believe the angel Abraham was leading this faction. I 'ganked' him, as you would say. I'm not sure if that will stop the rest of the angels, but I do know that it will slow them down. Since we have no more use for the Book, I will find a way to hide it again. You will have to take it out of the box before I can."

"Sure thing," Sam said as he walked into the adjacent room to retrieve the metal box with marker warding away from angels. "Can I ask… why you are wearing Dean's clothes?" he asked, bringing the book to Castiel.

"Oh right," the angel looked down at his clothes, "I was told this would be more physically comfortable than the suit. I find that I am more out of sorts in this, but I suppose I will have to get used to it."

"I see. Cas… is he really okay? He was a time bomb yesterday."

"There is no reason for your concern at this time. Dean is… sound. He was not in his right mind last night and is adamant about apologizing to you and Bobby," Castiel held his hands out for the book. The tall man handed the Book of the Dead to the angel and cocked his head to the side.

"How long have you been back?" Sam asked curiously.

"For most of the night."

Sam looked up at the ceiling and sighed, "So you're telling me, he kept his phone off all night?" He tried to hide his resentment for driving around all night, interrogating people and searching for his brother.

"I assume so, yes," Cas answered, unaware of Sam being upset.

"What did you even do all night?" he asked, trying his best to keep cool, clearly fuming.

Castiel remained quiet, remembering his charge had made himself clear that he did not want to share their relationship with Sam, although Cas still wasn't sure what to say, "Dean was very… ill. He's… been… mostly sleeping." The angel tried to survey Sam's expression, truly clueless as to how exactly he was reacting… human emotion still confused him.

With a long and drawn out sigh, Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked to the side, "But he's okay now?"

"As I have stated, Dean is well."

"Alright," Sam did his best to drop the subject, instead turned his attention to the spell supplies on the table. He looked over each of the items, some in vials or bottles, while the crook and flail sat in a cross. "So this is from the Osiris?"

"I am certain of it. It is quite humorous that the weapon to kill Isis comes from Osiris," the angel said, smiling to himself.

"How… how is that funny?" asked Sam, looking down at Cas with his eyebrows knit together.

"Osiris and Isis are husband and wife," Castiel began, "She resurrected him after he was murdered, a long and arduous task. Now, the weapon to destroy Isis comes from her husband… that is… hilarious."

"I think the word you're looking for is coincidental," Sam's voice lightened up towards to the awkward angel.

Castiel hummed in thought, "Perhaps. Sam, you look ill. You should rest."

"Yeah, Bobby and I were out all night. I'm going to sleep right after I check on Dean," Sam said as he walked past Cas.

"I realize I should have found you and Bobby when I came back. I'm sorry for my mistake," Castiel said to Sam's back.

"Cas, I was mad and I actually still kind of am… but I know you didn't mean any harm. It'll be fine," Sam answered earnestly before climbing up the stairs to the second floor; the wood boards creaked under his gargantuan figure.

On the landing, Sam stood in front of the cracked open door, the sight of Dean asleep in the untidy bed brought Sam to sigh in relief. The way Dean looked so relaxed, lying on his stomach; his long sandy hair was spread over the pillow and cascaded over his feminine face. For just a moment Sam didn't worry about rogue goddesses, angels out to kill them, or if Dean was going to drink himself to death. All he saw was his brother(sister) sleeping peacefully, and everything melted away. With a small smile, the younger brother backed away from the door and went back down the stairs, deciding to let Dean sleep and that he needed some of his own.

Still standing in the kitchen, Cas took a sip of coffee, his face wrinkled up at the bitter taste, "I don't see how this is appealing. It is quite unpleasant."

"Are you drinking it black?" Sam asked dropping down to the couch, his gigantic legs stretched out. He noticed just how sore he was from running around all night and how significantly drained he was. With his eyes closed, he kicked off his boots and rubbed his sock covered feet together.

"I suppose it is a dark brown, but not black. Should it be darker?" the angel asked after he took a second sip, his face still in the same expression.

"No, black means you didn't put anything in it. Try some cream and sugar," answered the moose of a man as he began to drift off to sleep.

"Cream and sugar," Cas said to himself as he searched the kitchen for the sugar, finding a clear jar full of the white grains. He grabbed a spoon from the silverware drawer, spooned in several scoops of sugar, and stirred it loudly. The angel looked into the fridge and surveyed over the contents until he spotted the cream. Castiel brought it over to his mug and began to pour in a generous helping of the cream to the dark coffee… too generous. The coffee and cream began to spill over onto the countertop before Cas realized, accidentally spacing out at first. He was brought out of his thoughts by the feeling of liquid running over his foot. With a jump, Cas looked down and saw the countertop and floor covered coffee. "Oh, oh…" he let out as he began to scramble for a hand towel. Dropping to his knees, he began to mop up the spilled coffee with the green towel until it was completely soaked and he was merely pushing around the liquid.

From behind the angel, he heard someone clear their throat, causing Cas to pop up from the ground and spin around to face Dean leaning against the doorframe. Dean's hair was ruffled and his grey shirt was loosely hanging, barely covering the navy blue boxer-briefs. The sight of Dean from his sex hair down to his slender legs caused the unfamiliar tightening in the angel's pants. "Having trouble?" Dean asked with his voice quiet so as not to wake his sleeping brother.

"I uh…" Cas stumbled with the sopping wet rag, dropping it to the floor with a splat, "I am having difficulties," he stated.

"Let me help you," Dean said as he sauntered forward, stopping in front of the angel and looking up at him. The room was quiet, besides the rhythmic snore of Sam asleep in the adjacent room. With ease, the green eyed man cleaned up the mess the angel had made on the floor and counters, a smile on his delicate looking lips. But Cas knew better, how much those lips could do. A shudder erupted through him as he thought about Dean's beautiful lips, how they looked the exact same from when he was a man. So full and pink… and all the things they were capable of. "You alright, Cas?" asked Dean as he stood from the ground, the wet rags in hand. He placed them in the sink and took a sip from the coffee making a face of disgust. "Whoa," he let out a cough, "How much sugar did you put in here?"

"Six spoonfuls. Is it too sweet?"

"Way too sweet."

The angel took a sip himself and made the same face, "I'm still trying to become accustomed to making my own coffee. It is quite a process."

Dean took the mug from him and set it down, "Want me to make you coffee? Show you what to do?"

"I would appreciate that," Castiel answered with his usual graveled voice.

As Dean grabbed another mug and began to explain how much sugar and cream one should put in coffee, the angel watched him buzz around the kitchen, his voice faraway as Cas merely stared at Dean's beauty. With a grin, Dean handed the angel a new mug with coffee, prompting him taste it. Cas took a small sip and this time thoroughly enjoyed it, "This is rather pleasant." Castiel placed the mug on the counter and reached out for the man, pulling Dean close to him. Surprised by the sudden contact, Dean's wide green eyes met Castiel's before the two began to kiss with Dean's back against the closed fridge.

It was a sweet 'Good morning' kiss, the kind Dean usually tried to avoid… but with Cas, he couldn't explain. He'd always tried to leave as quick as possible, get away and go separate ways. Except now, he didn't want the angel to leave. After last night, the thought of Cas leaving made him feel ill. For a brief moment, he wondered if this was love, but quickly squashed it. There was no way Dean Winchester, woman or man, would fall in love so easily. Not after he'd run from it for so long. So he pushed the thought away, yet still fell deeper into the sweet and gooey kiss, Cas's hands running through Dean's long hair.

"Yes, reasonably satisfying," Castiel murmured as he broke the kiss still playing with Dean's honey brown locks. He couldn't help but think of the night before as he looked down at Dean. The angel now understood why humans so heavily sought after sex; the emotional and physical connection it forges is indescribable. The way Dean called out his name… his full name sent warmth through his body. He saw it clearly now: Dean arching his back, his eyes locked on the angel's shock blue. "Castiel," Dean let out in a breathy moan as he hit the peak of his ecstasy. It played over and over again for him, a slideshow of the angel's first time, and Dean's as a woman.

"Cas, you're freaking me out," Dean interrupted the angel's reverie. "You're just staring at me," he said as he looked up at Castiel.

"You're very beautiful," Cas said in a low voice.

Dean's cheeks were stained in a dark red, "Did I accidentally put crack in your drink?" The angel knew that his charge was attempting to deflect the compliment with a joke, a classic Dean Winchester move. As Castiel leaned down to kiss Dean on his forehead, a shrill ringing forced their attention to a phone laying on the table, aside the spell supplies. The angel reached over and handed it over to the light haired man.

The number was unfamiliar Dean noted before he flipped it open and answered. "Hello?"

On the other end, there was a deep sobbing with indistinguishable words between the crying. Dean waited for the woman on the other end to calm down.

"Who is this?" he asked, looking at the angel and shrugging.

"Can I speak to A-A-Agent Bonham?" the voice weakly asked.

"You're talking to him."

"I'm-I'm sorry. You sound like a woman over the ph-phone," she continued speaking, "You said to call if something happened. It's Amanda, Amanda Draves."

Dean's face fell as he made the realization to who it was on the other line. One of the women they had interviewed about the sudden pregnancies, the pregnancies caused by Isis. "Tell me what happened," he said as gruffly as his feminine would allow. There was more sobbing from Amanda, her voice breaking and hitching. "Amanda, you gotta take a deep breath. I can't help you unless you're calm."

She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly until her voice was no longer shaking. "I went into the nursery, and she was there."

"Who was there?" Dean asked, Cas's face going somber as he began to put it together.

"Isis… she took my baby!" Amanda screamed, crying once more.

"Damn it, did she say anything to you?" Dean leaned against the angel, feeling terribly tired and defeated all of a sudden.

"She told me it was for Osiris, that she needed my baby. I tried to stop her, but she just disappeared."

"When you first summoned her, did she say anything to you?" Dean asked, watching his angel pick up the damned Book of the Dead and began to flip through the pages. "What are you doing?" Dean mouthed at him. Cas ignored him as he continued to look through the Book.

"Isis said she wanted to help… how do you even know about that?" Amanda asked.

"Never mind that, I need you to call the other women, see if the same thing has happened to them. Call me back when you find anything, alright?"

"Alright," she answered lamely.

Dean snapped the phone shut with a deep sigh.

"With Bobby's reference, I can translate the texts. This sounds familiar," Castiel answered without looking up from the book and translation key.

"What looks familiar? Share with the class," he said, however Cas continued to ignore him as he began translating. Throwing his hands up in frustration, Dean stormed off to his room upstairs, despite his loud footsteps still left his younger brother snoring on the couch. With a huff, Dean got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, grumbling to himself as he shoved his feet in his boots. "Isis, I hate that bitch… can't wait to ice her." With brush in hand, Dean ran it through his slightly tangled hair until it was completely smooth. He grabbed a hairband from the nightstand and put his hair up in a simple ponytail, his blood boiling as he became more and more enraged at the bitch of a goddess. He went back down to the first floor, his face red in anger.

"Dean, I know why Isis took the children. They're a part of a spell," Cas said as his charge came in the room, his voice grave. "Isis is going to sacrifice them."

{Chapter End}