Bring it on Home (Dean/Cas, Sam/Gabriel) NC-17

[lilyleia78]

Title: Bring it on Home
Fandom: SPN
Pairing: Dean/Cas, Sam/Dean
Genre: AU, romance, drama
Warnings: slave fic in the same manner that Beauty and the Beast is slave fic
Word Count: 34697
Summary: A crash landing forces Daniel to accept a Tok'ra symbiote. Now Jack must figure out how to deal with the changes in his relationship.
Alpha/Beta: nicole_sill/moonliteknight

Bring it on Home

The first time Dean met an angel he was battered, bruised, and still bleeding from hunting a particularly vengeful spirit. The sun was just beginning to make itself known as Dean sleepwalked from the car to the door. None of that stopped him from leveling his gun at the stranger in his hotel room before Sam or John, entering the room behind him, had even seen the danger.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked. From the corner of his eye Dean could see Sam leveling his own weapon at the man. His younger brother's eyes tracked back to Dean, looking to him for cues, but Dean's gaze never wavered off of the intruder.

"Now, now, is that anyway to treat of friend of your father's?" the stranger asked, eyes shifting from Dean to the doorway. "Really, John, I thought you'd taught your boys better than that."

"Dad," Dean asked, gun never wavering from the center of the strangers chest, "you know this guy?"

"Yeah," John said shortly, finally stepping fully into the room and turning away from the scene to shut the door behind him. "He's the angel Zachariah."

Sam's gun lowered slowly, mouth gaping. "An angel?"

"I don't believe in angels," Dean snorted, gun still steadily aimed at the intruder.

Zachariah looked unimpressed. "Your belief is irrelevant. Here I am."

"Dean," John said, "drop the gun."

Dean clenched his jaw, still not looking away from the so-called angel. "Dad?"

"Just do it, Dean," John ordered gruffly.

Reluctantly Dean lowered the weapon.

"Too bad. I was hoping for a little resistance," Zachariah said.

Dean kept his gun aimed at the floor, years of unquestioning obedience preventing him from acting on the instinct that was insisting he shoot the creature in his hotel room right the fuck now. "Resistance to what?" he asked in a low growl.

"This," Zachariah answered, waving a careless hand in Sam's direction. Dean spun on his heel, spotted the ropes that had appeared out of nowhere to bind his younger brother hand and foot, and spun back around, gun coming up and firing in one swift movement.

Dean's aim was true and the bullet hit the 'angel' right between the eyes.

Zachariah didn't flinch. He looked up at his own forehead, going a little cross eyed with the effort of inspecting the wound. It might have been funny if Dean wasn't too busy being scared out of his mind to appreciate it. Before he could squeeze the trigger again, Zachariah made another dismissive motion with his hand and Dean's gun was gone - the only indication that it had ever existed a ringing in his ears and the scent of gun powder in the air.

Dean looked down at his empty hands then back up at the inhuman thing in the room with them and was only mildly surprised to find that Zachariah's head was whole and unblemished, no trace of blood or wound anywhere on him.

Zachariah clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Really, such manners. I don't know why I expected any better of you over-evolved apes." And without even a gesture this time, Dean joined his brother on the floor, bound hand and foot.

"Damn it," Dean muttered, cheek pressed to the dirty carpet, "that was my favorite gun." He flipped over onto his back, getting his nose out of the stench of unwashed feet and the filth of god only knew what.

Zachariah's smile was sudden and harsh. "Oh, don't worry, you can have it back when we're gone."

Dean stilled and smiled a predatory smile of his own. "I'm not going anywhere with you, sweetheart. I'm not the take home to Daddy type."

Zachariah smiled at him as if he were a particularly amusing dog. "Good, Gabriel likes them feisty. You might have been enough to keep him happy for awhile."

"Enough, Zachariah," John spoke up finally and Dean craned his neck back to look at his father. He'd almost forgotten that he was still there. "Let the boys go. They won't give you anymore trouble."

John said that last with a pointed look at Dean, who smiled innocently back. "I never cause trouble."

A weary "Dean" from John had Dean nodding reluctantly. John turned back to Zachariah. "We had a deal."

"I see rudeness runs in the family," Zachariah observed, waving a hand again and releasing the bonds on Sam and Dean. "Very well, a deal is a deal after all, and I am a reasonable businessman."

"What's he talking about, Dad?" Sam asked, picking himself up and then offering a hand to Dean.

John met his eyes calmly. "It was the only way, Sam. Twenty five years we've been chasing this thing that killed your mother."

"And we'll chase him twenty-five more if that's what it takes," Dean said immediately, drawing John's attention.

"But we don't have to Dean," John said, eyes bright with some emotion that frightened Dean. "I've found him, and I know how to kill him."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, excitement overriding his misgivings.

"It's a gun, Dean, a colt. The Colt. Back in 1835, when Haley's Comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter, a man like us, only on horseback. The story goes, he made thirteen bullets. This hunter, he used the gun a half-dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. They say... they say this gun can kill anything.

"Anything?" Sam asked.

John nodded, turning to Sam. "I shoot him with the Colt, and he can never harm our family or another again."

"That's great, Dad, let's get the son of a bitch," Dean said.

"The angels have the gun?" Sam interrupted, the ice in his voice dousing the fire building in Dean's belly. Abruptly Dean was reminded that there was more going on here than he understood.

"And they're giving it to me," John said, almost defiant.

"The price?" Sam asked, glaring at their father. John's expression blanked, and Dean's heart sped up in response.

"Nothing too important," Zachariah answered, clearly tired of being ignored for the family drama, "just your freedom."

The brothers rounded on the angel. "Excuse me?" Dean said.

"What?" Sam asked at the same time.

"In exchange for the Colt your Father has given you over to the service of the angels." Zachariah tossed the words out casually, as if he wasn't ripping three lives apart with them.

"You?" Dean said faintly, shock numbing him to the full repercussions of what he was hearing. "We've been given over to you?"

"Oh, no, no, no," Zachariah answered, eyeing Dean disdainfully. "I have no intention of soiling myself with you over evolved, self important humans." He sneered the word, the way Dean might sneer at Sam's taste in music. "But I have brothers who might find you amusing." His expression suggested he didn't think much more of those brothers than he did of humans.

"That's Dean," John said. Dean had no idea why that was important, but he didn't like it.

Zachariah shrugged and turned to Sam. "Might find you amusing then." The implication struck Dean like a physical blow to the chest, breaking through the numbness.

"I thought you were supposed to be the good guys," Sam said, disappointment just barely bleeding through the outrage.

"We are our Father's 'guys'," Zachariah said, "we were created to do His will, not to play nursemaid or perch on your shoulders."

"Whatever," Dean said, tired of playing with this guy, and confident with the role he now had to play - Sammy's protector. "You're not taking my brother anywhere."

"Not even if Daddy orders it?" Zachariah taunted.

Dean was proud of himself for not flinching or turning to face their father. "Fuck you," he said.

Zachariah smiled at that.

"Sam," John said behind them, "just go with him for now. There's more going on here than you know. This is safer for everyone - especially you. Once I've killed the demon I'll find another way to keep you safe. You'll be back to arguing with me in no time."

"Stop talking now," Sam said, not turning around and locking one big hand on Dean's bicep to prevent him from turning as well. Not that Dean wanted to face his father at the moment. "You are dead to me. When I get out of this, I'm coming back for my brother. Don't come looking for us, don't talk to us, don't even think our names ever again. You are no longer our father - if you ever were in the first place."

"Take me instead," Dean said suddenly to Zachariah, cutting off any retort John may have been considering.

"Dean, no," Sam said harshly, his grip on Dean's arms tightening hard enough to bruise. Dean shook him off, but otherwise ignored his little brother.

Zachariah laughed in delight. "How noble! Unfortunately, you were not part of the deal. No substitutions or exchanges. I'm afraid it has to be Samuel."

Dean felt Sam sigh in relief. "Then take me too. Think of it as a two-for-one special."

"Dean," John said, low and warning behind him. Dean ignored him as well.

"Don't," Sam said, pleading. "Don't do this. Stay here with Dad. I'll get out, and I'll come back for you. I promise."

Dean smiled at him. "And let you have all the fun? Never."

Zachariah was watching the scene with an air of vague boredom, but at Dean's words he produced a sheet of paper. "Sign here, little martyr, if you're serious. I have better things to do than watch this soap opera unfold."

Dean stepped forward and signed without hesitation while Sam looked on with horrified disbelief. Dean turned back to his family and took a breath to speak - to say what he didn't know - but Zachariah was already speaking.

"This has been far more interesting than expected. Touching, even," Zachariah said, tucking the contract back into wherever he'd pulled it from, "makes me wish for some quality time with my own Father, really. But time's up I'm afraid."

There was a sense of pressure and light and a sound like the wind rushing past, and then Dean and Sam were somewhere else entirely.

Sam and Dean clutched at each other as the world settled back into something solid. When he was sure he was steady on his feet, Dean released his brother. "So this is Heaven," Dean said, voice casual even as he visually swept the area for threats and/or something he might use to do the threatening. "Not how I pictured it."

"You've pictured it?" Sam said asked from behind him where he was pressed back to back with his brother, watching for any threats and protecting his brother's back like always. "What were you imagining?"

Dean shrugged. "Clouds, harps, boring shit. Not the conference room at the Ritz Carlton. Not this." Dean gestured around them.

"That's because this isn't exactly Heaven, handsome." Sam and Dean immediately turned toward the new arrival, a shorter man with brown hair and a wicked smirk that looked like a permanent fixture on his face. "This is more of a holding area. A green room, if you will, a place to keep you until they've figured out what to do with you."

"And who are you?" Sam asked, fists clenching at his sides even as Dean angled forward to put himself between Sam and the new threat.

"I'm Gabriel," the man answered, smile widening. "But you can call me Master."

Dean launched himself at the angel - Gabriel. Sam snatched at him futilely. "Dean," he shouted, panic making his voice high and tight. But his worry was for nothing when Dean crashed into an invisible wall several feet from his target.

Gabriel smirked so hard Dean thought his face might crack. "Angel," he said simply at Dean's glare.

"Wait a minute," Sam said, pulling Dean back to him, "Gabriel? The archangel Gabriel?"

Gabriel's focus switched like a laser to Sam. "A fan! How exciting."

"You heralded the birth of Christ and now you're a common slave owner. How the mighty have fallen," Sam scoffed, elbowing his way in front of Dean.

The smile fell off of Gabriel's face. "Time to go to your new home, Big Foot."

"It's Sam. Sam Winchester," Sam said, chin going up defiantly.

Gabriel shrugged. "Fine, Sammy boy, let's go. Say goodbye to big brother."

Dean jerked back as if slapped, hand reaching out of its own volition to grab at Sam's sleeve.

"What?" Sam asked, stepping back again closer to his brother.

"You didn't think we'd be so stupid as to leave the two of you together, did you?" Gabriel asked. The angel took in what Dean was sure were identical expressions of horror on their faces. "Oh my Dad, you did. How adorable."

Gabriel snapped his fingers and suddenly Sam was standing across the room from Dean behind Gabriel. "Say goodbye boys, Sammy and I have things to see and people to do."

"Don't call me..." Sam said, but Gabriel snapped his fingers again and they were gone.

Dean flipped the fuck out.

***

"Welcome home, Sammy," Gabriel said, arms spreading wide to encompass their new surroundings.

"Don't call me that," Sam snapped, looking around with a scowl. Everywhere he turned there were plush cushions and fine silks and little crystal bowls filled with every type of candy Sam could imagine - and not a few he'd never seen before.

"Forgive me, Samuel, no offense intended," Gabriel laughed, unaffected by Sam's foul temper.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away an impending headache. "Sam," he said, "it's just Sam."

"Sam," Gabriel agreed easily, snapping a lollipop into existence with his fingers. Why he didn't just grab some of the already available candy Sam didn't know - showing off he supposed. "What do you think?"

Sam looked around at the ridiculous rich surroundings again. Not bad, not to his tastes, but not bad. "It's not what I expected," Sam admitted finally.

"You were expecting clouds?" Gabriel asked.

Sam shrugged, "Or bars."

Gabriel laughed out loud - a pleasant, joyful sound to Sam's surprise. "In Heaven, most humans see what they expect to see. I wonder if you would have seen bars made of extra strength clouds?"

"Why don't I?" Sam asked, natural curiosity overcoming anger and nerves.

"Maybe we're not in Heaven." Gabriel raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

Sam rolled his eyes, making Gabriel laugh again. "A powerful enough angel can enforce their vision on humans and lesser angels," Gabriel said. Sam would have liked to think that he was showing off again, but it was obvious from his tone of voice that Gabriel was stating a simple fact - he was clearly more than powerful enough to enforce his vision on Sam.

Sam shifted his weight from foot to foot, but didn't say anything. Dean. He had to get back to Dean.

"Where's my brother?" Sam asked. He didn't expect an honest answer, but you never knew if you didn't try.

"Rude, protective guy?" Gabriel shrugged, unconcerned. "I imagine his fine ass was given to some other 'worthy' angel."

Sam didn't like the implications of that. He gritted his teeth to keep from lashing out. "Do you know who?"

"No idea," Gabriel said, biting into his sucker. "Don't know, don't care. Not my problem."

Sam clenched his fists, but stayed back. Even if he thought he could damage the angel - which he didn't - it wouldn't help him find Dean. "What happens now?" he asked.

"Now, I go about my life like always," Gabriel said, "And you obey my every whim."

Sam glared in answer.

"Spoilsport." Gabriel pouted. "Okay, okay, just keep anyone with wings away from me, and I don't really care what you do with your own time."

"Really?" Sam asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

"Really." Gabriel turned and headed for the door. "Oh! One more thing." He stopped and turned on his heel. With a snap of his fingers, Gabriel was standing next to him again. Another snap and Sam's shirt was gone. Before Sam could form a protest Gabriel slapped a hand to Sam's chest - right over his wildly pounding heart.

"What..." Sam began, bewildered. There was a sharp blistering sensation at the point of contact and Sam was hit with a wave of emotion not his own - amusement, lust, and a bone deep sense of loneliness - and then both the emotions and the hand were gone.

"There," Gabriel said, sounding smugly satisfied, "now you're bonded to me. Don't try to escape." And with another snap of his fingers, Gabriel was gone.

When Sam gathered his nerve to look down there was an angry red raised handprint seared over his heart.

***

"Sam!" Dean shouted, running up to the spot from where his brother had disappeared. There was nothing there - no mark on the floor or spot on the wall - nothing. "Sam! Sammy!" Dean wasted more time than he cared to admit screaming at the walls before he took a deep breath and walked to the nearest corner.

There were no doors or windows, no way in or out that Dean could see, so he methodically paced the perimeter of the room, knocking on sections of the wall and moving furniture. Dean could feel the panic threatening to overwhelm him. He had no idea how long he looked and knocked and walked, but it was long enough to imagine all the ways in which he'd failed Sam.

Finally, desperate and scared out of his mind, Dean started to tear the room apart with his bare hands, screaming himself hoarse with his brother's name.

"Dean Winchester," a voice like gravel called. Dean swung around and found himself standing chest to chest with an angel. The first one that Dean believed was an otherworldly holy creature on sight. Peace and power radiated from the blue eyed man standing before him in an ill fitting suit and trench coat. In other circumstances, Dean might have called him beautiful.

As it was Dean didn't care what he looked like. He twisted both of his hands in the man's lapels and hauled him in. "Where the fuck is my brother you son of a bitch? No, you know what? I don't care. Take me to him or bring him back," Dean growled, "or I swear I will find a way to destroy every single one of you."

The angel looked at him with a mix of curiosity and sympathy, completely unperturbed by Dean's aggression. "The power to restore your brother to you is not mine," he said, "He doesn't belong to me."

"He doesn't belong to anyone," Dean said, shouting the words right into the new dick angels face, "he's a human being, not property."

"Human beings have been treated as property many times in your history," the other man pointed out. "Almost exclusively by other human beings."

"Not by me," Dean said, pushing the stranger away from him roughly. "Not my brother."

"Then why has he sold himself to Heaven?" the angel asked. Dean would have tried decking him on principle but he didn't detect malice in the tone, only curiosity. And there was a good chance it would have been as effective as shooting Zachariah had been.

"He didn't," Dean said, quieter now, tired in body and mind. "I don't know how the fuck this can be binding. I thought it was demons that just reached in to take whatever the hell they wanted."

"We are not allowed to take anything without consent," the angel said with absolute conviction, face scrunched up like Dean was speaking gibberish.

"Yeah, well, I only consented to stay with Sam. That asshole tricked me. And Sam didn't consent at all," Dean said at once, "Now, take me to my brother."

The angel studied him closely for a long time, making Dean feel like he was being searched - or maybe judged - but he seemed to be seriously considering Dean's words, so Dean endured it in silence.

"I see no mark on you," the angel said finally.

Dean had no idea what that meant. "I have no idea what that means," he said.

"It means that Castiel here hasn't claimed you yet," Zachariah said, appearing from nowhere just behind the other angel.

The angel - Castiel, Dean guessed - turned to face Zachariah, ridiculous trench coat billowing with the movement.

"Me?" He asked, and Dean thought he detected surprise in the angel's face.

"Of course, Castiel," Zachariah said, "this human is meant for you."

"I've done nothing to merit such a," Dean didn't miss the hesitation before Castiel chose his next word, "gift. I don't understand."

Zachariah chuckled - a fake sound that made Dean's skin crawl. "Such modesty. You found the very weapon that allowed us to acquire the boys. What else is there to understand? This human belongs to you."

Dean bristled. "Now, wait just one god damned..." Zachariah waved a hand and Dean's voice cut off. Dean raised a hand to his throat, clawing at his neck in search of the problem, but there were no marks that he could feel and no pain for that matter: he simply couldn't force out any sound.

"Zachariah," Castiel said, somehow radiating irritation without changing expression. "That was unnecessary."

"Once you've taken ownership, you may feel free to punish him however you see fit," Zachariah shrugged carelessly.

"I do not wish to own anyone. And Dean says his brother has not consented to this."

Zachariah retrieved a piece of paper from the ether again. "This contract - signed in his own blood - says otherwise." Zachariah held the document out for Dean and Castiel's inspection. "Recognize this?"

Dean did, and he clamped his mouth shut against a silent curse when he saw it. It wasn't like the contract he'd barely glanced out before signing. It was written in a language Dean didn't - hadn't - recognized. Sam hadn't either but their father had said is was a protection rite. One, he'd told Dean, that would protect Sam from the yellow eyed demon who held such a particular interest in him.

Sam had refused at first. He hadn't wanted to sign it until he could translate it for himself. But John had gotten pissed and Dean had asked his brother to 'just sign the damn thing'. Trying to stop a fight, always trying to keep his family from each other's throats these days, always trying to prevent his Sammy from leaving again, and look what it had cost him. He'd sold his brother to the archangel Gabriel just as surely as John had.

Zachariah smiled. "And now the little idiot is blaming himself for something his father did, just as you are blaming yourself for finding the Colt, Castiel," he said with glee. "See, he's perfect for you. Obedient little martyrs, the both of you."

Castiel and Dean glared at him in unison, earning them another grin from the other angel. Angels are dicks. Nothing but loopholes and deceit, Dean thought at them viciously. He suspected they got the gist when Zachariah chuckled out loud and Castiel turned a curious expression his way.

"Of course if you truly don't want him that's your choice." Zachariah made Sam's contract disappear. "I'm sure Michael would love a human tribute. And this one looks just his type too." Now Zachariah's expression turned calculating. "In fact, that's probably what I should have done all along. Michael does burn through them, doesn't he?"

"No," Castiel said. His voice was still calm and level as it had always been, but the command in it was unmistakable. "If he is mine to do as I wish, I wish to set him free myself."

Dean shook his head vehemently in denial while Zachariah sighed as if Castiel was just such a disappointment that he almost couldn't bear it. "I can't allow that, Castiel. Dean's presence here is an unexpected gift from our Father. He has a purpose here even if you lack the imagination to see the potential." Zachariah paused, and the calculating look on his face made Dean shiver despite himself. "No, I should have given him to Michael in the first place. Don't bother your pretty little head with it any longer - we'll just be on our way."

Zachariah reached one hand Dean's direction, but Castiel stepped between them. "I will take him. He was given to me."

Zachariah's attention shifted back to Castiel and he scowled at him. "Now you're just being contrary. You'll never move up the ranks like that, Castiel."

"That is out of my hands, Zachariah. I wish only to serve our Father in any way He will allow."

Dean was beginning to reconsider his position on demons. At least you knew where you stood with them. If asked Dean would say he didn't believe in God. But if He existed Dean didn't like the idea that he was nothing more than a slave owner.

"My Father has been absent for a millennia, Dean," Castiel said, eyes still trained on Zachariah, "I cannot say how he would feel about this situation."

"Is that dissent I detect in your voice, Castiel?" Zachariah mocked. "Don't grow a conscience on me now." Castiel bowed his head in a gesture of subservience that Dean didn't believe for a minute, and Zachariah sighed again. "Fine, he's yours. Be sure you complete the bonding and keep him from annoying me or our brothers any more than he already has."

Between one moment and the next, Zachariah was gone.

Castiel's shoulders drooped briefly before he turned to Dean. "I... " he began, then seemed to think better of it. "Let's go home." He pressed two fingers to Dean's forehead, and there was that disconcerting rush of sound and air again.

Dean stumbled into the new location, landing on his butt on a soft green carpet. He opened his mouth to protest, but of course nothing came out. Ouch, asshole, he thought in Castiel's direction.

"My apologies," Castiel said at once, reaching for Dean's forehead again. Dean tried to duck but the angel was too quick for him.

"Hey," Dean complained. His hand flew up to his throat. "Hey," he repeated, just to be sure he could. Then, refusing to be grateful, he grunted "Warn a guy next time."

Castiel nodded and held out a hand to help Dean up. "My apologies again."

"I don't like people - things - anyone messing around in my head," Dean said, needlessly defensive in the face of Castiel's graciousness. Not wanting inhuman things to mess around in your head was a perfectly normal reaction. Just because angel protocol was a little different there was no reason for them to ignore the wishes of their guests.

Captives.

Slaves.

Whatever.

Dean ignored the offered help and stood up himself.

"I did not.... 'mess around in your head'" Castiel said. Dean had to stifle an inappropriate urge to laugh at the stoic angel trying out his slang. "I 'messed around' in your body."

"Yeah, well stay out of my body too," Dean said, stepping back as he said it, just then realizing that they were standing too close for comfort.

Castiel continued to stare at him as if he was simultaneously the most confusing and the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. "If that is what you wish, I shall allow you to heal in the usual human manner in the future."

"Damn right you will," Dean said. "I earned everyone of these bruises and cuts." Dean swept a hand down his body to indicate the many aches and pains he'd acquired over their last hunt, only to discover he didn't actually have any more aches and pains.

A quick check of himself revealed that his missing voice wasn't the only thing Castiel had healed. His inspection revealed only perfect healthy unblemished skin. "What's this? Healing me up so only your marks are on me?"

Castiel blinked at him blankly. "We do not hurt people for no reason, Dean. No harm will come to you here."

Dean went from annoyed to blind rage in the space of a heartbeat. "Yeah? What about taking away my brother? I think that's plenty harmful. You can't just take away someone's family. Family. That word mean anything to you? Cause Sammy's mine and I want him back."

Castiel accepted Dean's tirade with no reaction that Dean could discern. "Do you know the name of the angel who has your brother?"

"What? Why?" Dean asked.

"I cannot reunite you with your brother if I don't know where he may be located."

Dean hated to look a gift horse in the mouth but history had taught him that if you didn't you were just asking to be bitten. "You'd do that? Why?

"Because you wish it," Castiel said at once, as if the answer were the obvious.

Dean snorted. "I wish we weren't freaking angel slaves, you gonna fix that?"

"You are not my slave, Dean." If Castiel could feel irritation, Dean was certain he was feeling it now judging by the dangerous way his eyes were flashing. "But you heard Zachariah. Heaven has a reason for bringing you here, and it is not my place to question that decision."

Dean shook his head in denial. "I don't want my freedom unless Sammy's comes with it, but I sure as hell can question whomever I like. Take me to whoever's running this freak show." Dean crossed his arms over his chest, gearing up for an argument.

But Castiel only shook his head. "I can not deliver you to Zachariah after I insisted that you be given to me. I fear that he would carry out his threat and give you over to Michael."

"Is that supposed to frightened me?"

Castiel hesitated. "Michael is the second eldest of us all - beautiful and glorious. But he has changed since the Morning Star's fall," Castiel said thoughtfully. Then he leveled his gaze at Dean. "Yes, I think he should frighten you very much."

Dean couldn't suppress a shiver at the absolute conviction in Castiel's voice, and he quickly changed the subject. "Not that this impromptu tour of prisons of the afterlife hasn't been a blast - even though it hasn't - but where the hell - heck - are we now?"

"This is my home," Castiel said.

Dean looked around immediately. The room he was in looked exactly like any hotel room in a million different little towns he'd stopped in over the years.

"You live in an angelic hotel room?"

Castiel looked around the room and frowned. "I pulled the image from your memory. Is it not correct? You can change it if you like."

A closer inspection showed that, sure enough, the room was a perfect match for the one he'd been sharing with Sam and Dad for their last hunt. Dean shook his head. "No, it's great," he answered. Castiel's frown disappeared so Dean guessed he'd never heard of sarcasm. Dean rolled his eyes, but he had bigger concerns. "It'd be better if my brother were in it."

Castiel cocked his head at Dean, brow furrowing. "Did you see who claimed him before I arrived?"

"Yeah, little man with a big mouth."

"That could describe any number of my brothers," Castiel said.

Dean laughed in surprise, although Castiel's straight face meant he was probably serious. "This one called himself the archangel Gabriel."

Castiel's confusion cleared but he looked resigned. "Then I have no idea where he may be located."

"Excuse me?"

"Gabriel does not like visitors. At least not from his brethren. Only a handful of his closest friends know how to contact him." Castiel's head tipped to one side thoughtfully. "I'm surprised he accepted your brother at all."

"I guess that means you're not one of his friends," Dean said.

"No," Castiel answered simply, but something in the hard line of his jaw and the ice in his eyes said there was a story there.

"Great, my brother's being held captive by an antisocial angel." Dean turned around and walked a few paces away from Castiel.

Castiel watched him and then followed behind him until he was back in his personal bubble . "I assure you that he is safe. Gabriel is not the most conventional of my brethren, but he will not harm your brother needlessly."

"Yeah, what if he thinks it's needful?"

Castiel's head cocked to the side, birdlike, and he frowned. "If his soul is half as bright as yours, why would it be needful?"

"You need your angelic vision checked," Dean said. Castiel opened his mouth, his already familiar confused expression in place, and Dean waved him off. "Nothing, I don't know. I'm too tired to think right now." Dean rubbed his forehead, exhaustion overtaking him as he spoke.

"Then you must get some rest," Castiel said at once.

Dean didn't want to rest: he wanted to find his brother. On the other hand, years of hunting had taught him that sometimes you had to take care of yourself in order to do any good for others. And there was nothing Dean could do right now. Obviously he needed to get away from Castiel and find this Gabriel somehow, but the first step was getting Castiel to leave him alone.

"You're right," Dean agreed. "I think I'll get some sleep." He flopped down on the nearest bed and closed his eyes. After a few minutes of silence he reopened them. Castiel was still standing where he had left him, staring at Dean. "You gonna stand there and watch me sleep for eight hours?"

"Yes," Castiel answered.

"You can't do that." Dean glared to emphasize the wrongness of the idea. "It's creepy. I'll never be able to fall asleep like that."

"Oh," Castiel said, looking somehow disappointed. "Then I shall depart for now. Pray for me if you need anything. I'll come at once."

Before Dean could tell Castiel how likely that wasn't, Castiel was gone. Dean closed his eyes again, sure was in no danger of actually falling asleep without his gigantic brother on the other side of the room. But apparently his body's exhaustion and years of sleeping anytime, anywhere, and (sometimes) with anyone served him well and Dean fell asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes.

***
After hours of wandering aimlessly around the huge house, Sam finally saw his captor again. "Bedtime, Sasquatch!" Gabriel announced, appearing once again from thin air.

To his great pride, Sam managed not to jump or react in anyway. "Is it?"

"Yep. Wanna join me?" Gabriel waggled his eyebrows in a disturbingly suggestive way.

This time Sam did react, taking a step back and mentally assessing his surroundings for escape and weapon options.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Relax, big guy, I have no intention of forcing you." His already familiar smirk made a reappearance. "Trust me, I have plenty of willing candidates."

Sam snorted.

Gabriel's grin just grew larger. He snapped his fingers again and Sam found himself standing in a large foyer in front of an ornate door - the first exterior door Sam had seen all day. But escape at that moment was definitely not an option. Even without Gabriel standing next to him, the large room was packed with wall to wall people - men and woman of varying ethnicities and ages.

"What's this?" Sam asked, apprehension making his tone sharper than he'd intended. "More angels?"

Gabriel shifted slightly, putting himself between Sam and the crowd. "Angels, fae, a few minor deities. These are the few, the hopeful, my potential bed warmers for the night." He turned his back on them to face Sam fully. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

"No," Sam said firmly.

Gabriel shrugged. "Your loss." He turned back to the crowd and picked someone - a tall, leggy blond woman - seemingly at random. "You, with me," he told her. She cast a superior look to the now dejected looking crowd and made her way across the room to them. By the time she reached Sam and Gabriel the others had filed out the door.

Gabriel ignored her, turning his attention back to Sam. "There's servant quarters right next to my room." He snapped and a trail of glowing blue lights appeared on the floor, leading up the grand staircase. "Just follow the lights." Without turning his head, he wrapped an arm around his conquest's waist. "Feel free to watch," he said, "I'm quite the showman." And with another snap, Gabriel and his companion were gone.

***

Sunlight streaming in through the windows woke Dean sometime later. "Sam, shut the damn curtains," Dean muttered, groping for a blanket to pull over his head. His brother didn't answer, not so much as a grunt in protest to being woken up. "Sam," he repeated, louder this time.

Before his brother's name had finished forming a second time it all came back to Dean in a terrible rush - the dick angel, the separation, Castiel.

And Gabriel. Dean's eyes snapped open even as he pushed off the bedclothes. He had to find Gabriel to get his brother back.

Dean climbed out of the bed to inspect the room more closely. There were two doors at opposite ends of the room. One of them led to a small bathroom, cleaner than any hotel bathroom he'd ever seen, and functional. Dean attended to his morning business and then tried the other door.

It revealed an empty parking lot. Dean paused for a moment to wonder at and mourn for his beloved Impala and then stepped outside.

Beyond the hotel there was an entire town for Dean to explore. An entirely empty town. If it was some weird ass representation of Heaven, then Heaven was possibly the eeriest place Dean had ever seen. Buildings stood vacant, parks abandoned and quiet, houses unlocked and unoccupied. The town didn't even feel abandoned - it felt like a stage, a prop waiting for someone to come fill it up. There weren't cars in driveways or clothes hanging in closets when Dean let himself into a few of the houses. It was downright creepy - and Dean had a higher standard than most for the definition of creepy.

Eventually, the light fading fast and with nowhere else to go, Dean returned to his hotel room and collapsed back onto the bed. Ignoring the emptiness in his stomach reminding him of exactly how long it'd been since he'd eaten, Dean fell into a restless sleep.

Dean's next few days passed in a bored blur. He continued to explore the empty town, but less and less as the emptiness wore on his nerves, leaving him feeling increasingly lonely and melancholy when he couldn't afford the distraction. He drank a lot of water from his bathroom sink and spent increasing amounts of time sleeping, dreaming of more and more implausible ways out of the nightmare in which he kept waking.

Castiel never reappeared. A fact for which Dean was initially grateful, but by the third day he wondered if the lack of company was a sophisticated torture. Dean was hungry and bored and hungry and pissed at John and pissed at Sam and did he mention hungry? He took to muttering obscenities against his captor under his breath just to hear something besides the muffled tapping of his boots against the floor as he paced.

On his third day, and three billionth circuit around the room, Dean spun around and literally ran into a brick wall - or rather something that felt like a brick wall. "Ow, damn it," Dean said, arms pinwheeling in an effort to not fall on his ass. Castiel reached out with one hand and steadied him easily.

"You are in need of something." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, my brother," Dean said.

Castiel nodded. "Yes, but you are also in need of something I can provide," he amended. "You are uncomfortable - in pain."

"Damn right I'm uncomfortable," Dean growled, ignoring the implication that he was hurting. "Going a couple days without food will do that to you. Not to mention sleeping on that torture device you call a bed."

Castiel tipped his head, eyebrows inching together in the universal sign of confusion. "Why have you not envisioned a more comfortable sleeping space then?"

"Envisioned? What is this fantasy island?" Dean asked.

"No, it's Heaven." Castiel's sincerity would have been hilarious if Dean wasn't too hungry and tired to appreciate it. "It's shaped by your perceptions and desires."

"So you're saying the hotel room and the creepy empty town are all figments of my imagination?"

Castiel's head tipped slowly the other direction. "Of a sorts. I chose this setting from your memory. I thought you would be more comfortable in familiar surroundings, but you are free to change what you see."

Dean blinked at the angel. "What do you see?" he asked.

"Heaven," Castiel answered, arms making a sweeping motion to gesture to the space around them.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Right, of course." Experimentally, Dean closed his eyes and tried imagining the Playboy mansion. When he opened them again there wasn't a Bunny in sight. "Didn't work," he said, glaring at the angel before him.

Castiel's shoulders flickered restlessly, but the rest of him remained impassive. "Perhaps you didn't really believe in your vision."

"Great," Dean said, "All it takes is faith and trust."

"Precisely," Castiel agreed.

Dean closed his eyes and tried for something a little less ambitious. When he opened them he double beds in the room had changed to a single huge fluffy king size he'd seen in a display home once. Dean threw himself across the bed with a sigh. "Awesome. So, do I just wish my food into existence too?"

Castiel looked away as if reprimanded. "Forgive me," he said, "it has been a long time since I've walked on Earth. I had forgotten how often humans need food." He stretched a hand out and sandwiches, chips and a jug of water appeared on the room's small table.

Dean sat up. "Nice. Next time maybe some burgers and pie."

Castiel nodded. "As you wish." He looked over his shoulder at the door. "I've also compacted your vision to this dwelling. Beyond the door is now only the rest of Heaven."

Dean glanced from the door to the angel. "It locked?" he asked.

"I've sealed it," Castiel said with a nod. "No one can get through unless I will it. You are safe here."

"Well, thank you so much," Dean said, giving into the temptation to investigate the food his angel master had conjured for him.

"You're welcome," Castiel answered - sarcasm still clearly lost on him. He hesitated. "In the future, I would prefer it if you would ask for help instead of cursing me."

Dean grinned through a mouthful of turkey sandwich. "No promises. Asking for help and being polite are not my strong suits."

To his surprise, Cas smiled back cautiously. "I believe that about you Dean Winchester. But I also believe in the power of change. Please endeavor to do so."

Dean chuckled in surprise. "Right."

"Do you require anything else at this time?" Castiel asked.

"My..."

"Besides your brother?"

Dean thought about it for awhile. "You get cable up here?" he asked with a nod to the blank television.

Castiel glanced in that direction with a look of concentration before nodding. "Yes, I believe the television should be able to tune into your viewing desires."

"Great." Dean used the remote that had appeared on the table to flip it on. "Alright, Raiders of the Lost Ark. This one's a classic."

"Is that supposed to be the Ark of the Covenant?" Castiel asked, squinting at the TV.

"Yeah," Dean said, turning to watch Castiel, "Wait, are you saying you've never seen it?"

Castiel shook his head. "Television did not exist the last time I walked among my Father's creation."

"Dude, that's unnatural. Take a seat, we're gonna marathon Indiana Jones and start your education."

***

Dean wasn't even aware that he had fallen asleep until the feeling of being watched woke him. Dean jerked awake, flipping over to find the source of his unease.

"Castiel? What're you doing?" Dean asked, stretching lazily. A quick glance at the clock told him he'd gotten a solid eight hours, even if he didn't remember drifting off.

"Waiting for you to wake up," Castiel said.

Dean laughed. "You gotta get a life man."

Instead of answering Cas said, "I brought donuts and coffee. My garrison leader assures me it is a traditional human way to break your fast."

Dean sat up quickly. "Your garrison leader is a genius. And if there's a custard filled in there you're forgiven for the early morning stalker routine," he said, making grabby hands at Cas.

Cas stared at Dean's hands for a moment, puzzling out what Dean wanted. Cas sighed and shook his head before handing over the bag, but Dean thought he saw an amused twinkle in his eye.

"I have matters to attend to this morning," Cas informed him. "Is there anything you are in need of? That I can provide," he added hastily.

Dean, lost in a sugar and caffeine high, waved him away. "I'm good. Just gonna lay here and watch some jailbreak movies. Look for some pointers."

Cas nodded - the joke lost on him - and fluttered off.

***

Somewhere in the middle of Dean's second viewing of Shawshank Redemption, there was a soft rustling sound and a slight change in air pressure and Castiel appeared before him, blue eyes scowling down into Dean's own. "You're hungry again!" Castiel accused.

Dean eyed Cas silently for a long moment before he shrugged and settled back further into his pillows. "Eh, I could eat. But I can always eat."

"I asked you to call on me when you are in need," Castiel said. And the damn angel actually pouted at him, as if Dean's refusal to be a demanding prisoner was hurting Cas's feelings.

Dean ignored the ridiculous sense of guilt rising in him and folded his arms across his chest. "I only need one thing from you, and you've already said no."

Castiel's shoulders fell dejectedly at that statement, and he sank slowly onto the edge of Dean's bed. Although he held himself unnaturally straight and stiff, Dean couldn't help but think that Cas looked weary and sad. Dean didn't like the look on him.

"Dean, please believe me. I cannot return you to your brother," Cas said.

"Can't? Or won't?" Dean asked.

"I cannot oppose the wishes of Heaven, Dean. I requested permission to reunite you with your brother just this morning and was again offered the chance to pass you on to Michael. Like you are a disobedient dog who needs a firmer hand." Castiel's face twisted in distaste. It made Dean feel perversely better to know how much the angel abhorred the idea of giving him away. "I was told that it is safer for everyone if things remain the same as they are now."

"Did you ask why?" Dean asked.

Castiel looked up at him, surprise widening his eyes. "I did not. Angels are not meant to question orders," Castiel said.

Dean sighed and shifted to sit next to the angel, his knee nearly brushing against Castiel's. "Sometime you have to question a stupid order, Castiel. What if the other guy made a mistake?"

Castiel scowled at him. "Angels do not make mistakes."

"Oh yeah? You forget to feed me on purpose then?"

Guilt clouded Castiel's eyes and then understanding cleared them. "Yes, I see your point. I will ask why it is safer to keep you separate. Perhaps there has been a misunderstanding that we can clear up so that you may be reunited with your family."

Dean snorted: Winchester luck didn't really work like that. But he appreciated that Castiel wanted to try so he didn't say anything further. "Ask later. Right now you're getting me a bacon cheeseburger and some key lime pie."

Castiel stood and disappeared, reappearing almost instantly next to the bed. He held up a greasy sack. "As you wish."

Dean grinned and snatched the sack out of his hands. "Smells great, Cas."

"Cas?" Castiel asked, nose wrinkled adorably.

Dean shrugged. "It's a nickname. Castiel's a mouthful."

Cas considered his words for a moment and then nodded. "I believe I like it."

"Awesome. Good for you," Dean said, sitting down and digging into his food. Cas stood above him, watching him eat. Dean held up his burger. "Want some?"

"Angels do not require food."

Dean laughed. "It's not about requirement, Cas. Sometimes it's about enjoying yourself."
Cas still looked uncertain. "Come on," Dean cajoled, "at least have some fries and we'll watch some Star Wars."

Cas stared at Dean for a very long time before nodding. "I believe I would enjoy watching movies with you again," he said, sounding surprised for some reason.

Dean shifted again until he was propped against the headboard and patted the space next to him. Cas eyed the bed dubiously for a moment and then settled into the spot stiffly, still clad in his trench coat and jacket. Dean grinned at the sight. "Tomorrow bring a large pizza and a whole pie. We'll split them while you tell me how your visit with Zach's goes."

Castiel nodded and stared into Dean's eyes again with that beautiful unnerving gaze. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean had no idea why Cas was thanking him, so he shrugged. "Original trilogy only tonight - I don't think you're ready for Jar Jar Binks."

Cas nodded again, but didn't look away until Dean broke their staring contest to call up the movies.

***

There was a large plate of pancakes waiting on the table when Dean woke up the next morning. And although some instinct left him feeling like the room had recently been vacated, there wasn't an angel in sight. Cas was a fast learner.

Dean flipped through the seemingly endless number of stations on the TV for a few hours, but there was nothing on he hadn't already seen. Not surprising, he supposed, if the programming was being pulled from his memory.

He helped himself to some leftovers for lunch and then burned all the calories off with a workout, something he didn't usually need or want, but he was going a little stir crazy with nothing to see or do all day. He found himself looking forward to dinner just as much for Cas's company as for the news he might bring.

When Cas finally showed up he had a pizza, a pie, and a frown.

"What's up, Cas?" Dean asked, taking the steaming pizza box from Cas's grip. He peaked inside the box and scowled. "Is this veggie lovers?"

"I was told that the human body requires fruits and vegetables for a balanced diet," Cas said.

Dean cast a worried look over at the pie. "Yeah, you find Sam already and start taking tips from him?"

Castiel set the pie down - banana crème from the look of it. "No, I have been researching."

Dean rolled his eyes. "A pet manual on the care and feeding of your human? Cause that's kind of insulting."

Castiel loomed over where Dean was sitting. "My garrison leader has once again been most helpful. Perhaps if you'd just tell me what you need I could avoid offending you in the future."

"Yeah, yeah, I promise not to attempt to starve myself. S'not really my style anyway." Dean said, taking a large bite of his pizza. It wasn't too bad really, even rabbit food could be improved with sauce and cheese. Dean pushed the other chair away from the table with one foot. "Sit, pull up a slice."

Castiel did as told. Dean handed him a slice and Cas sniffed it before taking a small bite.

"You like it?" Dean asked, smiling at Cas's thoughtful expression while he chewed.

"It is not unpleasant," Cas said.

Dean snorted. "Get some meat on the next one and you'll see how pleasant it can be."

Cas nodded and took a larger bite. Dean regaled the angel with his favorite pizza toppings as they finished off the rest of the pizza together. When there was nothing but crust left, Dean finally asked what he'd been avoiding since Cas had shown up looking confused and worried. "So, did you get to talk to dick face?"

Castiel frowned. "Zachariah?"

"Yeah, that's what I said," Dean answered, unapologetic.

"Yes. It was most unhelpful," Cas admitted.

"Tell me."

"I asked, since you were given to me to do as I please." Dean glared at Cas, but the angel ignored him, "if I could not help you or offer protection so that you may be returned to your brother. Zachariah's only response was to laugh and dismiss me."

The pizza that Dean had just eaten sat like a lump of lead in his stomach. He didn't know why he was surprised: he had never thought Cas's little talk would work anyway. "And Sam?"

"I do not know, Dean. Zachariah refused to answer any more questions, and he grew angry. He would be a powerful and dangerous enemy if we push him too hard."

"It's more dangerous to remain in the dark," Dean argued, standing up.

"I do not believe your brother is in any peril, Dean. If Zachariah had wanted him dead he could have killed him outright, not given him to Gabriel. To my knowledge no one knows where Gabriel resides now, making your brother's position and safety more secure than your own."

"What happens to me isn't important! Only Sam matters," Dean yelled, frustrated with Cas's inability to understand this simple basic fact of his life.

"Not to me," Cas answered quietly, catching Dean's gaze with his own. "And I do not believe Sam would be happy to have his freedom at the cost of his brother anymore than you would."

Dean stared back for a long time. Cas's eyes held a determination and sincerity Dean didn't think he could fight. And at any rate, Cas was right. Sam would be pissed if Dean got himself killed.

Dean sat back down and pulled his chair up to the table until his feet bumped Cas's and forced himself to take a deep breath. "So what's the alternative, Cas? How do we figure out Heaven's plans and/or find Gabriel?"

"I have other brothers. I will demand they tell me what they know."

Dean bit his lip in order to keep his smile from turning into full fledged laughter. Cas was just so earnest and determined. It was kind of cute. Dean pulled the pie box closer to himself and grabbed a fork. "You know, we have a saying back home about catching flies with honey."

Cas frowned. "Why would we want to catch flies? How would that help?"

Dean rolled his eyes and scooped up a bite of pie. "It's an expression. It means you can get more information by doing a little sweet talking instead of getting all smite-y on them."

Cas's head tipped. "You wish me to sweet talk Zachariah."

"God no," Dean said with a shudder. "But he can't be the only one who knows what's going on. We should talk to some of your friends. Have them over for dinner or something."

"Angels do not require…"

Dean interrupted, "I told you, it's not about requirement. It's about pleasure - having fun. And more importantly, getting information."

Cas nodded slowly, something thoughtful in his expression. "There are a few of my brothers to whom I could speak."

"Great, invite them over, parade me around like a good little show dog and see if it stirs up any gossip about me or Sam."

Cas scowled. "I do not wish to parade you around like an animal."

"Trust me, it's not my idea of fun either, but if it'll get us what we need." Dean shrugged.

"I believe I can invite my brothers over to meet my friend without degrading you in the process," Cas said.

Dean stopped eating, fork half way to his mouth. "Friend?"

Cas shifted in his seat, a strangely human gesture of discomfort, causing his knee to jostle Dean's leg. Dean didn't move out of his way. "We are friends, are we not?"

The thing was, Dean wasn't so good at friends. His line of work didn't allow the kind of time or openness friendship required. There was family and there was everyone else. But. He thought maybe friend was a good word for what he and Cas were becoming. "Yeah," Dean agreed finally, "we are. Pie?" he offered.

Cas's answering smile was the brightest thing Dean had seen in all of Heaven.

It took a few days of deliberation (Castiel) and food planning (Dean) over their nightly meals but eventually Cas announced that they would have a guest for dinner.

"My brother Uriel will be joining us tomorrow," Castiel announced over fried chicken and salad. Dean had been dismayed when Cas developed a taste for green leafy food, but Cas also thought apple pie was the best pie in the world, so Dean forgave him.

"Yeah? That's awesome, Cas. What's he like?" Dean asked.

"I believe you will like him," Cas answered, experimentally scooping some salad up on the same fork with his pie. Dean wrinkled his nose in disgust. "He is very amusing."

"An angel with a sense of humor?" Dean said. "This'll be fun."

Angel humor apparently loses something in translation. Dean thought to himself the next night as Uriel's stone cold face looked past him to the dinner he and Cas had painstakingly laid out.

Dean had conjured them up a larger table with actual dishes, and Castiel had brought the food exactly to Dean's specifications. Pizza, burgers and, at Cas's insistence, two kinds of salad.

Uriel was looking it all over with an expression that suggested he was smelling something rotten, instead of a medley of the best food ever invented. "What's the meaning of this Castiel?"

Dean looked at Castiel nervously, but Castiel was watching Uriel. "We thought you would like to join us for a traditional human meal."

"Angels do not require human sustenance," Uriel sneered. Dean began to wonder exactly what Cas saw in him. And, more importantly, why he thought Dean would like him.

"I have been told that it's not always about requirement, Uriel. Sometimes it's about pleasure." Uriel turned a blank expression at Castiel. "I have enjoyed it," Cas added.

Uriel looked at him doubtfully before sitting down at the table. Castiel took the seat across from him at the round table at once. Dean hesitated. He and Cas hadn't discussed what his role would be here. He didn't know if he should serve them or excuse himself or…

"Dean, please sit down so we can eat," Cas said, answering Dean's internal struggle. Dean shrugged and took a seat between them, scooting it a little closer to Cas so he could see Uriel better.

"So, Uriel," Dean began, "what do you do for fun?"

"Follow my Father's orders," Uriel answered.

Dean checked Cas's face to see if this was one of Uriel's hilarious jokes, but Cas was nodding as if that was a perfectly normal answer.

"Okay." Dean cleared his throat. "Followed any good ones lately?"

"Yes," Uriel answered shortly.

Dean wracked his brain for another topic of conversation, but Cas cut to the chase. "Uriel," Cas said, "have you heard anything regarding Dean or his brother, Samuel."

Uriel turned his disgusted expression from his slice of pepperoni pizza to Castiel. "Thankfully little. The younger human is an abomination, and the elder is un-evolved. I imagine our superiors find them in need of supervision and guidance."

"Now wait just one damn…" Dean snarled.

Uriel spoke over him. "I am surprised you have not yet initiated the bond," he said to Castiel. "Is Zachariah aware of this transgression?"

Dean didn't know what they were talking about, but he'd been spending enough time with Castiel to know that the contrition in his expression was completely insincere. "I have been very busy, Uriel, but that is no excuse. I will do so at once."

Uriel nodded and stood, "I do not believe I am enjoying this 'meal.' May I be excused, Castiel?"

"Of course, Uriel," Cas answered at once. "I will see you at the garrison."

Uriel nodded and took his leave.

"Well, that was a complete disaster," Dean said, shoving back from the table in disgust. "And you have really horrible taste in friends."

"Uriel is a good angel and has been a good friend to me. He has not walked the Earth in many millennia. I believe his 'people skills' are 'rusty'," Cas said.

Dean laughed, a little bitterly. "That's one was to put it."

"I will chose our next dinner companion more carefully," Cas offered. He stood as if to leave. "Do you have need of anything before I go?"

Suddenly the idea of Cas leaving made Dean feel incredibly lonely. He usually stayed longer, and Dean hated Uriel a little more for cutting their time together short. Dean heard himself saying, "Yeah, I need something."

Cas's head tipped slightly to the left. "What is it?"

Dean thought quickly. There were many things he'd like, but they all boiled down to the same thing. "Something to do, Cas. I'm going out of my mind here I'm so bored."

Cas's head tipped even further. "Bored?"

"Yeah, I got nothing to do all day." And no one to talk to, but Dean didn't say that part out loud.

"I see," Cas said. "What do you usually do to stay busy?"

Dean shrugged. "Clean my guns, sharpen my knives, work on my baby." Cas nodded, but Dean was on a roll now. "Torment my brother, hustle pool, drink myself stupid, hunt."

Castiel considered Dean. "There would be no point in care of weapons or your vehicle up here. They are completely useless in Heaven."

"Hey now," Dean said warningly, "my baby is not useless. She's saved my life more times than I can count, and she's never, ever let me down."

"The only thing in creation that has not," Castiel observed. Dean's head jerked up and he opened his mouth to object, to defend his family. But after a moment he snapped his jaw closed without saying a word. Cas wasn't exactly wrong.

"Perhaps..." Cas began.

Dean jumped on the word eagerly. "Yeah, got something for me to do?"

Cas looked like he was already regretting saying something, but he pressed on, "Would you like to accompany me to the garrison tomorrow?"

Dean frowned. "Angels have jobs?"

Cas was nodding. "In a manner of speaking. All angels have an assignment - a purpose for their creation."

"Yeah? What's yours?"

"I am a warrior of Anael's garrison and the angel of Thursday. Recently I have been retrieving items of value to Heaven."

"Like the Colt," Dean guessed. Cas nodded and his shoulders shifted in a restless motion - the only sign that he was still harboring some guilt about that. Dean didn't blame the guy for his situation. Cas was just doing his job, it wasn't like he set out to screw over the Winchesters.

So Cas was a warrior retriever angel of Thursday. Warrior sounded cool, and retrieving stuff was probably angel-talk for Indiana Jones-style adventure but angel of Thursday? What the hell was that? "Angel of Thursday, huh? What's that entail?"

"I help those who were born on a Thursday or pray for help on a Thursday."

"Isn't that a lot of people?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Cas answered, and Dean decided he really didn't want to know any more about how the whole angel thing worked.

"Okay, so what exactly would I do at your…" Dean tried to remember the word Cas had used, "garrison?"

"Observe," Cas suggested.

It said something about how desperately bored Dean was that he didn't immediately decline with a hearty 'hell no'. "Will Uriel be there?" he asked instead.

"He works under me, yes," Castiel said. "But there will be others there as well: you need not interact with him at all."

A thought - dangerous and appealing - bloomed in Dean's head. "You gonna zap me there with you?"

Cas appeared to think about it for a moment. "No," he said finally, "I believe you would enjoy walking? It's not far, and would give you a chance to see Heaven. I know you have not yet explored beyond our little pocket here."

That fit with Dean's plans very well indeed. "Yeah, okay. Tomorrow can be take your human to work day."

Castiel looked pleased, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Dean almost felt bad that he never intended to make it to the garrison.

Part two
Masterpost