Where do angels go when they die? You’re not dead dumbass, you’re thinking so you can’t be dead. But isn’t this what people think when they’re dead? You heard a baby cry, it’s probably your daughter. Wait that’s too soon. Does it work like that with angel babies? All the one he’s seen have been pretty normal baby looking.
Dean’s eyes blink open and he lifts a hand to his head. His head is killing him. Well, not killing him. His hand comes into focus. The first thing Dean notices is that it’s no longer peeling, the second thing is that his nails are neat and clean and that there are no more calluses on his palms. HIs wedding ring looks brand new.
"I’ve never held an infant before."
He jerks his head in the direction of the voice. Gadreel is holding his daughter, he can tell that from her Grace, distinctly a part of him and a part of Castiel. His voice cracks as he asks his question. “Is she okay.”
"They would not have let me hold her if she was not," Gadreel has stoicly as he gets up and places the baby in his arms. Dean almost chokes on a sob as he peels back the blanket over her hair. Tears are streaming down his face but he’s smiling widely. "Your Papa is going to love this."
"They said something about her hair being the result of all the Grace and souls flowing through and around her." Gadreel looks like he’s on he verge of smiling. Dean doesn’t know him very well but he guesses that’s rare for him.
"I hope not," Dean says honestly then laughs when Gadreel looks confused. "It’s cool!"
His daughter has a head full of hair, dark like her papa’s but framing her face the hair is a brilliant white. Dean looks up, his Grace feels whole so he knows his husband is still alive. “I need to see Cas.”
Gadreel helps him up and takes him to the next room over. Dean pretends not to care that it looks like he’s wearing a freaking toga. He sits down at the side of the bed and holds up their daughter. Cas looks out of it but he talks anyway. “Hey babe, you should wake up now. Our daughter wants to meet you. I think with her hairdo she’s asking to be named Rogue too. Wake up or I’ll do it.”
There’s no telling how long Castiel is out. He just remembers pain and the sounds of voices worrying over him. He remembers feeling cold too and so very very weak. Castiel thinks that for a moment, he might have come close to dying.
He opens his eyes for a moment and can’t see much with how blurred his vision is. ”Thank father you’re awake,” he hears a voice, Samandriel’s, speak with relief. But Castiel is so weak he falls asleep again.
The next time he wakes up, he can see the healers over him again. Or at least he thinks the blurred forms are the healers. Castiel feels warm and yet numb. Can smell smoke and burning feathers. Can hear shouting. And then he falls into unconsciousness once more.
Castiel comes around feeling warm and comfortable. He can breathe easier though he still feels exhausted and like he could sleep for days. Maybe even weeks. He can hear Dean speaking though, so he opens his eyes and smiles weakly.
"That’s a terrible name," he rasps as he blinks and looks up at his mate and daughter. It takes a few tries to clear up his vision, but he smiles a little brighter when he can see their tiny daughter in Dean’s arms.
"Never seen an angel with hair like that." He attempts to laugh, but has to stop when he feels pain in his stomach. Castiel grits his teeth lightly, but relaxes a few seconds later and sighs.
"Name her Anna Marie. That was Rogue’s name, wasn’t it? Much better than calling her Rogue," he says with a little smirk.
"Supposedly they’re pretty much the same," Dean thinks aloud then kisses kiss back firmly, tongues just barely touching before Cas pulls away to continue his spiel. Even though the kiss was short he’s exhaling audibly.
He notices that the crotch of his jeans is tight and sighs with relief when the fly is undone. Dean is fully hard now, cock pointed to the left and stretching over the jut of his hip. While Cas talks he leans down and kisses the freckle over his nipple then teases the nub with the very tip of his tongue.
Before this gets to heavy though he slides down Cas’ body, taking off his lovers’ jeans and socks as he goes. Then Dean gets off the bed and goes to the bag Cas got at the store and grabs the bottle of lube. He tosses it on the bed the resumes his previous position, straddling Cas’ hips and leaning forward.
"We both know everything would fall apart if we retired," Dean teases then kisses the underside of Cas’ jaw. His hand scoots the bottle of lube towards Cas hand as he sits back slightly to give him a knowing look. One that asks his boyfriend to work him open so he can make it worth his while.
He scoots up a little so he can kiss Cas slowly, tongue pressing in, letting Cas know that even though he intends to bottom he is not going to be passive.
Cas shimmies out of his jeans as Dean pulls them off of him and can feel the immediate relief of having the tight fitting clothes gone. Yeah, he liked them, but not when they were squeezing his erection in their tight denim confines.
"I don’t know. I’d like to have a little more faith in our fellow heroes," he teases as he reaches for the bottle of lube. He pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and lets the gel warm up for a moment
He returns Dean’s kisses, smiling a little before parting his lips to lets Dean’s tongue in. Cas runs a warm gel coated finger over the crack of Deans ass before using his older hand to spread the cheeks. While he kisses Dean, letting their tongues rub together, he rubs his finger over Dean’s hole and eases it in slowly.
Cas presses a little harder into the kiss as he pushes his finger in and out of Dean, trying to get him as slicked up as he can before he works him open. But he’s excited. It’s been a while since they’ve had sex. Not that that’s the only thing he’s excited about. But he just enjoys being with Dean. Being alone with him, even if there is a sleeping dog present, and being able to have this kind of relationship with him again.
He starts to ease the second finger in carefully and pulls back to watch Dean’s expression. Cas wants to make sure he isn’t hurting his boyfriend.
The whole world goes quiet when he feels his husband’s Grace panic then start to ebb. Dean turns just as Lucifer is cradling the back of Cas’ head and pushing the broadsword into him.
His own voice sounds foreign, effects of the souls tearing him apart. This isn’t his concern because he would rip himself apart and flay the skin from his body to keep Cas safe.
Dean’s wings spread, already starting to light and burn. It’s those burning wings that carry him, more than his feet as he moves towards Lucifer. He buries his blade into the other archangel’s spine then grips the long hair and jerks it back as the scythe is pulled from his belt.
He’s sobbing as he hooks the blade under Lucifer’s neck because all he can see is a dead husband and a brother he has to kill. It doesn’t stop him from ripping the scythe upwards so hard the weapon flies out his hand as soon as he’s cut the head off. The head hangs from it’s hair by his hand but only for a moment before he’s dropping it as well as the body.
"Cas, baby," he pleads as he wades through the water to his husband and drops to his knees. His hands are peeling and the infant Grace in him is screaming. Dean tugs the broadsword out and picks up Cas in his arms, hugging him tight.
"We have to get back," he hears Gadreel say lowly. "For the safety of all of you."
Dean doesn’t acknowledge but he’s soon bathed in white and feeling faint as his husband is taken from him. His body trembles and then he feels as if his chest has been ripped open, light pouring from it. As his body hits the floor he thinks he hears a baby crying.
Cas can feel the shockwave of power dispersing as Lucifer is killed. It rattles him to his core and distracts him from the crippling pain for a moment. But then he sees Dean above him and he cries out as the sword is pulled from his body.
"Dean," he pants softly, body shaking as he feels his strength waning. He’s afraid and he doesn’t want to die. Doesn’t want to leave his family behind and miss watching the boys and their little girl grow up. But all he sees is Dean’s face, that beautiful angelic face behind all of the cracked and burned skin and his vision starts to fade too.
Please God, don’t let him die.
He grasps Dean’s arm weakly, but they’re separated as they’re taken to Heaven. The healers try to sedate him so that they can begin the healing process. But he resists. Castiel can feel Dean’s pain and distress through their bond and hear the cries of their daughter. Even at Death’s Door, his instincts fight to protect Dean.
"Commander, stop. Stop! You’re only making your injury worse," Samandriel urges him and pushes him back to lie down in the pool of holy water. The other healers are attempting to leech away the taint that Lucifer’s sword had left behind, but it’s probably more painful than the initial stabbing.
"No. Dean. Need to. Dean needs me," he gasps through the pain, but Samandriel shakes his head and pushes feelings of calm into his Grace.
"Dean and the fledgling are already in the ward’s care. They’re safe," the young angel reassures him and Castiel relaxes a little, allowing Samandriel’s calming influence in bit by bit. "The others are already extracting the souls and repairing Dean’s vessel."
Castiel smiles at thought and finally allows himself to succumb to the sedatives and falls asleep.
While Cas is feeding Stark Dean sits in the big easy chair by the window and pokes at his phone with his finger, looking for an art supply store. The view is incredible and he keeps getting distracted by the illuminated monuments. He has one leg slung over the other at the knee and with Cas tending to the dog and himself at ease it’s positively domestic. Yeah, he could get used to this.
"We’re in luck, there’s an art supply store a seven minute bus ride or a fifteen minute walk away, then we can jump the metro to go to the zoo." He’s kind of excited about that, remembering when Cas and he used to laze around their apartment and draw or study. The weather is just crisp enough that the animals should want to show themselves so they can have that moment again. All day.
"Well if you would let me retire we could," Dean teases as he gets up, plugging his phone into the charge then shrugging off his blazer as he goes. Stark has curled up under the desk, probably because it reminds him of his crate and is already out for the count.
Dean kneels over Cas’ outstretched legs, straddling his knees. For long couple of seconds he just looks at Cas, the metal fingers peeking out from his shirt, the relaxed expression. He’s beautiful like this. There’s a little hitch in his breathing but he recovers and reaches down to start taking off Cas’ shirt.
Once the garment is removed he takes off his own shirt and tosses both to the chair he just vacated. “We’ve never stayed in a place this nice before,” he muses. “We used to guess what it would be like when we had to pass the Waldorf Astoria. Now we know.”
"Too young to retire. Our papers might say we’re old, but our bodies probably haven’t even hit their prime yet." Cas shrugs out of his jacket and leaves it on the bed beside him when he decides it’s getting a little too warm for him.
He looks up at Dean as he straddles over him and smiles softly. The lighting’s perfect. Highlighting every beautiful curve of his lover’s face and cutting an attractive shadow under his jaw. Of course, the physical beauty doesn’t match up to the awe inspiring man inside, but it comes pretty darn close.
Cas raises his arms as Dean pulls his shirt off of him and he can already feel himself getting warmer. He’s anticipating what Dean will do and he’s excited. ”Bet the Waldorf’s still nicer,” he teases, hands settling on Dean’s hips as he rises up to kiss him. ”We can stay there next and compare.”
"We can stay at practically any place we want to now. Doesn’t mean we should, but we could." Cas smiles and unbuttons Dean’s pants, pushing them down when he has the fly undone too. "And maybe I could let you semi-retire. Part time superhero stuff so that we don’t get bored senseless by all the sand and sun we’ll have to endure in retirement."
He’s laughing again, but he’s pretty relaxed and happy. ”We could make the announcement when we get back if you’re serious about it, of course.”
Dean thinks about it as they walk out. They could probably go see another if they rushed or they could just go for a walk and enjoy be lazy. “Lets do it tomorrow. Or head to the zoo with the sketch pads and practice drawing something other than each other.”
He shrugs and takes Cas’ hand to start across the Mall. “Or both, we’re pretty much on leave until there’s some huge crisis they call us in for. I just hope it’s a long time before they do so.”
A big shaggy dog runs up to Stark and play bows. Dean looks at Cas quickly then squats to take Stark out of his vest. The puppy has been perfectly behaved all day and really should be rewarded with a little off leash time. As soon as the vest is off, Stark is returning the bow and running off in a game of chase.
He stays pretty close though. The owner of the sheep dog comes over to say hi. If she knows who they are she plays it pretty cool, making conversation about living in D.C. and where to get good food. She must because after the dogs play for around for twenty minutes she asks for a picture, with the dogs of course then leashes her dog to go on her way.
"Stark looks worn out now," Dean says with a grin as he puts the vest back on him and clips the leash to him. "We should probably go get him some dinner at the hotel and let him rest if we want to go back out. What do you say?"
"Zoo sounds like a good idea. Haven’t been to a zoo in decades." Cas chuckles softly at the joke he’s made about himself as he walks out of the museum with Dean. "Gonna draw a lion or a monkey. Not sure which one yet. Maybe both."
He squeezes Dean’s hand and smiles after Stark’s been let out of his vest and leash. It’s always fun watching the transition from working dog to puppy come over Stark. And it’s nice meeting other dog owners too, he supposes. Cas hardly even mind when they’re asked for a picture because he’s glad that their dogs had fun.
"Yeah, Stark does deserve a little nap time. Though I feel like being lazy. Maybe we can order room service and have a little fun in the room tonight." He gives Dean a smile and a wink, but laughs softly as he heads back in the direction of the hotel. After following Dean around all day, he thinks he has a pretty good idea of where he’s headed.
When they’re back in their room after an extra half hour of Cas insisting he knows where he’s going, he makes takes Stark’s vest off and makes him a bowl of food and gets some water for the tired puppy. He then kicks off his shoes and flops back onto the bed, feeling pretty tired himself.
"I like being on leave. Being out of New York. Makes me almost wish we could leave more often." He doesn’t really mean it, but with the world not at constant risk of alien invasion, he thinks more travel is possible. It just depends on them and their mood.
The scythe is tucked into the belt that also hold’s Dean’s sword. Lucifer hasn’t noticed it yet or just isn’t mentioning it because he knows it’s the one weapon that can kill him. Dean won’t pull it out just yet. He will wait for the coup de grâce to bring that out.
As Cas charges Dean smells the undeniable stench of sulfur and turns to see several angels engaged with huge black snarling animals. Dean shivers. Hellhounds. It’s been years since those creatures came for him and ripped him apart as the dragged him to hell. The memories are still there though.
He’s about to let his soldiers handle them when there is a heavy weight on his back and he’s being pushed into the ground. The sound of teeth on armor clues him into that he’s been attacked by one of the hellhounds. Dean rolls over hard, pushing the hellhound off then draws his sword to go after it.
The creature backs away when it sees the archangel’s sword but Dean lunges at it. He manages to land the blade between the creature’s eyes then pulls it out and runs in the direction of Lucifer and Cas.
Metal is clanging and he can hear Lucifer taunting Cas. It infuriates him but he simply pushes his anger into swing the sword at Lucifer’s side as Cas stabs with the spear. The sword leaves a big chink in the armor. The thing wearing Sammy’s face points somewhere in the distance then at Dean. He’s confused for a moment then hears the sounds of snarling and massive feet getting closer. So the plan was to distract Dean with hellhounds.
I need help, Dean thinks, squeezing his eyes shut. The sound of wings and armor settling appears behind him then is over taken by the angels fighting off the hellhound.
Castiel ignores the hellhounds and the fighting around him, knowing that he needs to concentrate on Lucifer or he’ll die by his uncle’s hands. He’s grateful for Dean’s help though because even as strong as he is now, Lucifer is still a formidable opponent and someone surely worthy of being a great leader. If only he hadn’t fallen.
"Dean!" he shouts when his mate is distracted by the hounds. He doesn’t know why Dean’s closed his eyes until he can hear the call over angel radio, but then he sees Lucifer and he has to act fast.
Castiel pushes the spear head through the chink of Lucifer’s armor and breaks off the tip, leaving the point embedded in Lucifer’s flesh. But at the same time, the older angel had already drawn the smaller angel blade in his possession and stabbed straight through Castiel’s armor and into his stomach. But instead of pain, all Castiel can feel is fear.
Not like this. Not like this. He didn’t want to die like this.
He looks up at Lucifer and can see his smirk. ”Just like your father. Will you beg me to stop too?” Lucifer taunts and Castiel squeezes his eyes shut as the blade is twisted in him. Castiel can already taste the blood in his mouth when his uncle grabs the back of his head and pushes the blade in slowly.
"I always had such high hopes for you, Castiel. It’s sad to see your talents squandered by your love for these hairless apes."
Suddenly, Castiel finds himself on his back in the reflecting pool, angel blade still in his stomach and he can’t move. He’s paralyzed by the pain that comes over him as the immediate fear ebbs away, though the fear of his impending death still lingers.
Dean effects a pout when Cas says they have to be heroes still. There’s really no argument to be made against it. They are both completely capable of the jobs so there is no real reason for them not to. Plus, Dean isn’t sure what he’d do without the current role he filled. It was just so exhausting pretending to be freelance.
"Deal," Dean agrees about dropping the shop talk, "but when I finally retire I’m just going to sit around at the beach and do nothing. Probably wear socks with my sandals."
He smirks and follows Cas into the Peacock Room. There’s another male couple in there, standing shoulder to shoulder. Dean nudges Cas’ shoulder with his own then teases that he’s going to redo his bedroom to look like this. He gives the two guys a smile as they make the circuit of the room. Both look at each other like they are not quite sure if they recognize the pair. Dean winks at them as they move on, giving Cas’ ass a pat.
"Feels good to be able to do that," he says with an apologetic tone. Dean’s not that sorry. Cas has a great ass and they’re allowed to do all the things hetero couples are allowed to do. Even if it’s a little obnoxious when either do it.
"Every time we’re sent on a mission out of the states, we should stay a while and visit," Dean whispers to Cas in front of huge screens with paintings of Mt. Fuji. "What do you say?"
Cas shakes his head and looks up at Dean with disgust. ”I was brainwashed and frozen for seventy years and I still know that wearing socks with sandals is a fashion crime.” He fakes a shiver, but then chuckles and elbows Dean playfully.
While walking with Dean in public, he’s not exactly expecting to have his ass pat. So he can’t be blamed for jumping or squeaking in surprise. Or for hitting Dean’s arm. But he does calm down after a few seconds and deflates into a little smile. ”Give a guy some warning,” he says with a shake of his head.
He rests his head on Dean’s shoulder for a moment and bats his eyelashes at him before pulling away with a laugh. It does feel good being able to do things that couples do in public. And it feels even better knowing that they don’t have to be afraid of getting arrested either. Persecution still might come, but he’ll take that over jail time.
"So, what? We should immerse ourselves in the cultures we’re admiring?" he asks to clarify and then gives a thoughtful hum. "It sounds like a pretty good idea. I’ll probably make it my personal mission to buy sweets from every country we visit though. Just to have souvenirs, of course."
Cas looks down at his watch and blinks as he sees the time. ”It’s getting pretty late. Think we should ty to squeeze in another exhibit before we go?”
Earth shattering consequences. Literally. There’s a good chance they could do just as much damage as Lucifer and the Croats did. The only way to stop it was to take the battle to Heaven. Though it would do them well to repair things for the humans, a show that angels are going to return to their original purpose.
Dean takes the few moments to mentally prepare himself. He nods once when Cas brings the Lance of Longinus. It’s superstition, the only weapon that kill Lucifer is Death’s scythe but doesn’t want to have an argument with his husband in front of their soldiers. Superstitions were dangerous, they got people killed and made them put faith in objects and stories instead of themselves.
There appears to be a meteor shower as they descend down to Earth. It takes a moment for Dean’s own Grace to recognize the little beacons of light as the Graces of those who had been trapped in Michael’s prison, heading down to meet their vessels. He smiles then orders Gadreel to rally who he can to start purging the Croatoans. It saddens him that the infected cannot be saved.
Lucifer was a showy bastard so Dean is not surprised at all when he feels the pull of Lucifer’s Grace in the Gardens of the Villa Éphrussi de Rothschild. He lands near the reflecting pool, jumping slightly when he sees his reflection. A hand comes up to touch the cracking skin. Cas was right of course, archangel Grace and all those souls were too much for one vessel to handle. Regardless of whether he was Michael’s intended vessel.
He spots Lucifer sitting at the end of the reflecting pool under an umbrella in a pool chair, one leg crossed over the other. Lucifer is wearing that stupid white suit that Dean will never let Sammy hear the end of if they survive this. Dean had thought that he would see a demon’s face under his brother’s skin but the legend’s are true. Lucifer is beautiful.
"I see you did my dirty work for me, Dean," Lucifer says cooly and turns a champagne flute in is hand. "Thank you, I figured when I let Kevin live he would lead you right to the entry to Heaven."
He stands and puts the champagne flute down and steps towards Dean, clothes changing to the regalia similar to what the two other archangels are wearing. “Did you know that’s my sword?”
There’s a tug at the broadsword strapped between Dean’s wings then it appears in Lucifer’s hand. “Thank you for bringing to to me.”
Castiel descends to Earth with Dean and the others. The sight of the angels without vessels descending alongside them is a sight to see though. He’s never seen anything like it and, honestly, he hopes he never has to see it again. Knowing that they are bringing war to a already ravaged Earth saddens him.
While Dean councils Gadreel, Castiel guides Samandriel’s garrison. They will support Gadreel, of course, but they must also rid the planet of the demon menace. No demon will be allowed to linger on the surface of the planet while they fight with Lucifer.
After Samandriel has taken the reins and begins to command his troops on his own, Castiel joins Dean in the garden. Seeing the reflection pool under him, he frowns and knows Dean’s already seen himself. How the souls and Michael’s Grace are slowly tearing him apart. He’s not sure how he ever managed to contain the souls all those months without bursting at the seams like Dean is now.
Lucifer turns his gaze on Castiel next, but the younger archangel simply stares at him and frowns. This seems to amuse the angel in Sam’s body and Lucifer laughs. ”You brought that thing with you? You know very well that that spear won’t work against me. It’s a crutch for the humans. Something for them to use to slaughter one another.”
Castiel’s wings bristle, but he clutches the spear tight. ”It gave our brothers and sisters hope to believe in the lie that the lance will bring them victory. And though it might not be able to kill you, it can hurt you,” Lucifer.”
Since Dean isn’t making the first move, Castiel decides that he will and he flies straight at Lucifer, thrusting the spear at the older being. He’s quick to recover when he misses though and moves out of the way of Lucifer’s sword. Castiel is moving fast, charging more of his Grace into the spear to empower it and make the blow he deals to Lucifer’s back stronger when he swings the pole around.
Dean freezes, realizing his mistake when Cas says he’s been sewing. He thinks hard, trying to figure out a way to recover. “No, no! I guess I wanted it to honor you. So that one wouldn’t have your art in it because ti would be about you? Or maybe that means that you should have your art there too…”
Yeah, Winchester, when in doubt ramble and make no sense. Always a good plan. Not to mention that he feels like shit because he never thought of the angel of death reference. To him, Cas had always been larger than life and gorgeous. But when Dean was mad at him back in the thirties he would draw him with devil horns and a little pitchfork. So drawing him with wings would, according to Dean logic, be the opposite.
"I didn’t even think about the angel of death thing, I’m so sorry. I never followed along much in Catechism and…" Dean is depressed and doesn’t know what to do to recover. "I’m sorry, Cas, I promise I was painting you thinking of you as the guardian, sexy kind of angel."
He looks at Cas sheepishly, lips skewed to one side of his face, begging for forgiveness with his eyes and body language. Dean gives a little grin. “How fancy, hand painted dog bowls, we could probably retire with that idea. And how perfect for us. Technically we’re in our nineties so we’re well within our rights to retire, but physically we’re in our late twenties so we can actually enjoy it.”
Cas stares at Dean for a moment, but smiles quietly and shakes his head. ”I don’t mind. It’s what I am. What I do. Did.” He shrugs, feeling certain that despite the route he’s taken now, Turner will sooner or later ask him to head back into the shadows. It’s all he’s really good for anyways. Doing the dirty work that Captain America can’t do.
"If Father O’Donoghue heard you talk about sexy angels, I’m sure he’d cuff your ears," he says with a chuckle, showing Dean that he’s not offended at all. He’s learned to accept this truth, even if he knows his talents have been used for evil purposes in the recent past.
He gives Dean an arched brow at the idea of making hand painted dog bowls. He’s not sure how well they would fare, but their names alone would probably attract customers. ”Well, if we move out of the tower we could find a place and get a kiln set up. Maybe make more than just some fancy dog bowls.” Cas can’t deny that he is amused by the idea of them retiring and just working pottery all day.
"We can’t retire just yet though. People need heroes looking out for them. And why let our talents go to waste? Not to mention our good looks." Cas blows a kiss Dean’s way and then laughs softly. Charlie’s probably had a worse influence on him than any of the other Avengers feared.
"Alright. Less talk about retiring, more geeking out about your precious art," he teases and walks ahead of Dean with Stark following close behind.
Dean frowns as he hears the apprehension and confusion in the angels’ voices. He doesn’t want to leave anyone helpless but really humans are going to need them more. The angels have abilities whereas the humans would have to rebuild everything from scratch. Or very nearly.
"How about we help you guys pick out leaders?" He side eyes Cas quickly then smiles. "But if you’re hellbent on following us we could use your help right now."
Dean drops to sit on the edge of he dais, not wanting to take the throne for obvious reasons. Some of the other angels immediately drop to sit on the the steps leading up to it, eager faces looking up at him. “You guys know what I need to do next and I’m going to need help. So anyone that wants to help is welcome to come along.”
Every angel nods. Dean thinks about it for a minute, chewing on his lower lip. Lucifer could use Michael’s death to take over Heaven and if that was true then they were in serious trouble. He presses a hand over his heart, then starts explaining the plan. A third will go with Cas and himself because Croats were easy targets. The remaining will stay here in Heaven to defend it. He leaves it to Samandriel and Hael to choose who stays, telling them to pick the best warriors.
He’s never seen two angels looks more confused. It’s funny but Dean doesn’t allow himself to laugh. They look at each other for a minute then Hael rattles off a few names, Samandriel calls off a few as well. Dean smiles at them then looks around. He picks a few angels, looking for those that seem to shy to volunteer. Those were the ones that would need a confidence boost and disintegrating demons tended to have that affect.
His broadsword is brought up to him as he gets up, steadying himself on Cas, smiling the whole time. “I’m fine, just the kiddo is acting up with all her new roommates.”
"We can deliver her here after your mission is completed," Hael speaks up confidently. Dean wants to disagree but this will be the safest place for him and it might give the angels the push they need to attempt self government.
"I can’t wait to meet her," he says with a nod then looks at Cas. "Ready?"
After being reassured that everything is fine, Castiel extracts the swords from the corpse of his uncle, claiming Michael’s sword as his own, and sheaths them in his Grace. The mess and the throne are cleared away with a thought and then he takes the chance to sit down and have a pow wow with the angels.
It’s easy to see what Dean’s thinking, but there aren’t any here that Castiel would think would follow Lucifer. He was worse than an Usurper. Lucifer was the father of lies and the one who stole Eden from them and the humans. Burned paradise to the ground because he could not obey their father.
He doesn’t voice any of this though and watches with a careful eye as Samandriel and Hael select the warriors who will stay behind. Castiel thinks they would be good choices for an angelic council, though that discussion will have to wait til another time.
"Always ready," he answers with a smirk and gives his wings a stretch when he’s standing again. "This battle could have earth shattering consequences if we let it drag on for too long, so we’ll need to kill Lucifer quickly."
"Those who will be coming with us to Earth, I suggest you find your best armors and weapons. This will not be an easy battle."
Castiel blinks out of the room for a moment but is quickly back with an ancient looking spear in his hand. Gasps of ‘the holy spear’ can be heard, but Castiel ignores them and infuses the weapon with his own Grace. ”This relic guarantees victory to the wielder. If you really want to kill Lucifer, I think it’s best we bring this along with us, don’t you think?”
After their army returns, armored and ready for battle, he lets Dean lead the way to the battlefield and whispers a prayer that their victory will be swift and devastating to their enemies.