16. Chapter 16

The coordinates that Gabriel had given him led Castiel to just inside a fence, which surrounded an enormous mansion somewhere in the middle of Texas. At first glance, the mansion did not look all that different from the other human dwellings that Castiel had seen while travelling with Sam and Dean, and he squashed the initial surge of impatience. He didn't have time to wander around searching for Balthazar; he wanted to talk to his brother, make him see reason if at all possible, and then hurry back to Dean as quickly as he could.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Gabriel to take care of Dean. The sincerity radiating from Gabriel's grace when he swore nothing would happen stayed with Castiel even now, clinging to the edges of his own grace like a fleeting touch. But this was a crucial time in Dean's regression, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the longer he was gone, the more risk there was of something going wrong. It would be far too easy for Dean to decide that he wasn't capable of doing this after all. Hard as it would be for Dean to refuse this, Castiel had seen both Winchester brothers do enough harm to themselves to believe he would do it.

For the time being, though, he had to focus his thoughts on Balthazar. Flying directly into the mansion would set off any sigils Balthazar might have set up to warn him of intruders, so Castiel crossed the large lawn the human way. As he got closer to the mansion, he started to believe that maybe this was where Balthazar dwelled after all. Either that, or a human with very similar tastes. The whole place was opulent and luxurious, not to mention the number of scantily clad men and women strutting around the pool that Castiel could just make out to his left. Sensing another angel's grace in the vicinity, he started to walk that way.

There was no sign of Balthazar amongst the humans - or, not all humans, now that he was closer he could detect some supernatural creatures as well. But they were all alive; not a single one was a fabricated entity designed purely to look good, the way Castiel was expecting. One of them, a woman with blonde hair, smiled slowly at Castiel and winked. When he just stared at her, she grinned and sashayed closer with a very deliberate cock of her hips. She was a human, but that didn't stop her from reaching out and curling her fingers around his tie.

"Hey handsome," she said in a low, sultry voice, pushing her shoulders back. The stance had the effect of pushing her ample breasts, barely contained in the scrap of pink material, right under his nose. "Looking for a good time?"

"Not particularly," Castiel replied. "I'm looking for my brother."

"That doesn't sound like much fun. I could show you how to have fun, you know." Her eyes gleamed. "I always did have a thing for good fathers."

That did it. Castiel's arm flew out, catching her around the neck. She screamed as she was yanked against his body, her hands flying up to pull ineffectually at the place where his elbow curved around her throat. Castiel put just enough strength into the hold to leave her a little short of breath, though he had no real intention of hurting her. There was no doubt in his mind that this was some sort of test, and that this woman had probably been told to proposition him, though why Balthazar had thought he would be tempted by this sort of thing was a mystery. Still, he didn't like the fact that she knew about Dean.

"Balthazar," he growled. "Show yourself before I lost patience."

"When did you lose your sense of humor, Cassie? Oh, wait. That's right. You never had one in the first place."

Castiel twisted, unsurprised to see his brother standing about five feet behind him. Balthazar's arms were crossed and he was pouting, though he did not seem inclined to attack. The human woman in Castiel's hold whimpered when she caught sight of him, and Balthazar's eyes dropped to her.

"Let her go."

"I should hold her hostage until you give back the weapons you stole," Castiel shot back, but he released the woman anyway. She had nothing to do with this, and he had not come here with the intention of frightening her or anyone else. He watched as she rushed back to the safety of the growing crowd behind them before he turned back to Balthazar.

"I'm not surprised that's why you're here, but I am surprised that they sent you, of all the angels, to tell me to behave. Isn't that a bit like the pot calling the kettle black?" Balthazar asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not here to tell you to behave. I just want the weapons back. Then you can do whatever you want."

"What if I want to keep the weapons? I'll have you know it was a lot of bloody effort to take them in the first place. The only time Virgil ever leaves his post is to go suck up to Raphael. Do you know how long I had to stand around listening to him sing about Raphael's virtues before he finally left?" Balthazar grimaced and held his hand up. A wine glass appeared in his hand and he drank deeply with a theatrical shudder. "It was traumatizing. I consider those weapons my reward for my patience."

"Well, Raphael considers those weapons a way to restart the Apocalypse," Castiel answered. "Gabriel isn't the only one who has been looking for you. What do you think will happen if Raphael finds you first? You know as well as I do that you're not strong enough to kill an archangel. He'll smite you, take the weapons, and launch an attack against Gabriel. And if he wins, he'll open up the cage again."

Balthazar shrugged. "I'll be dead by then, so I won't care."

"Balthazar!"

"Look, Cas. Raphael is a coward. He backed down the instant you and Gabriel went to heaven. I have a hard time believing he cares enough to put that much effort into restarting the Apocalypse."

"You've been on Earth, cut off from heaven, but it's the truth. Raphael's loyalty to Michael runs deep." Castiel grimaced as he spoke. It was the same sort of loyalty that all of them were supposed to have in regards to heaven and their Father's plan, and a little part of him felt wrong for speaking against it. Yet time spent with the Winchesters had taught Castiel that that kind of blind loyalty could be dangerous.

But that was not something he had the time to contemplate now. "Michael wanted the Apocalypse to happen, which means Raphael is dedicated to freeing him from the cage so he can wreak havoc. Right now, he and Gabriel are evenly matched and Raphael won't challenge him. But if he gets his hands on those weapons..." Castiel let his voice trail off meaningfully. There were some weapons of heaven that could harm, if not kill, even an archangel in the right hands.

There was a hard look in Balthazar's eyes. "Much as I'd like to believe you're here because of heaven, I expect the real reason is because of your little nestling. Scared that Michael might come calling for him after all?"

Castiel tensed, his angel blade slipping into his hand. "The Apocalypse will destroy the world as we know it," he growled, forcing himself to keep his temper under check. "And I know you, Balthazar. You left heaven because you wanted to live in the human world. You wanted a life of... indulgences." He cast a pointed glance around at their audience. "Are you expecting me to believe that you would be content with throwing that away? Or do you expect that one of those weapons would be enough to stop Raphael if he came looking?"

Judging by Balthazar's slight wince, Castiel's guess was correct. Castiel took a step forward, keeping his angel blade ready but holding his free hand out imploringly. He didn't want to fight with his brother. At one time, he and Balthazar had been very close. They'd spent years together, watching over the Earth or fighting against the demons. He just hadn't understood Balthazar's fascination with the Earth until he went to hell and rescued one particular human.

"You are right," Castiel added. "Part of the reason I'm here is because of Dean. He is my nestling, but I have always felt the urge to protect him no matter what the cost. But you are my brother. I would grieve for you, if you were gone."

"That's a very human sentiment," Balthazar said softly, looking troubled.

Castiel met his gaze. "Is that bad?"

For a long time, Balthazar was quiet. He sipped at his wine glass again, emptying and refilling it in the blink of an eye several times. Long after the time when a human would've collapsed on the ground, drunk, he finally sighed. "You always did have an annoying way of making too much bloody sense."

Relieved that Balthazar didn't seem interested in fighting, Castiel sheathed his blade. "Give me the weapons. I will return them to Gabriel, and he will take them to heaven where they belong. They will remain out of Raphael's reach; he won't dare go against Gabriel without the power to back it up. None of us will have to worry about the Apocalypse and the rest of our brothers and sisters will leave you in peace."

"Now that I find hard to believe. There's been an endless parade of angels outside my door for the past month."

"Maybe if you'd actually talked to one of them, they would have gone away sooner."

Balthazar quirked an eyebrow and chuckled. "Earth has been good for you, Cassie," he observed, sounding approving. "Care to join me for a drink before I allow you to take my hard earned work away?"

Though his instinct was to rush back to Dean as quickly as possible, Castiel found himself seated in a plush chair with a glass of expensive whiskey in his hand. Balthazar reclined across from him with a glass of champagne. The alcohol was good, sharp with a burn, though it didn't make Castiel feel anything now that he was no longer in danger of falling. He licked his lips slowly, tasting the remnants of the liquor, and noticed Balthazar watching him with an indecipherable expression and roiling grace.

Neither of them spoke as the hours passed. Occasionally Balthazar would reach out tentatively, brushing strands of Castiel's grace with his own. Castiel always responded to the touch, but he did not offer to let their grace come together the way he once would have. He was too mindful of the fact that he was nursing Dean, and, jealously, wanted only his grace to be a part of that. Whether Balthazar understood or not, he made no comment. But he didn't try to push for more, either.

"Gabriel needs angels he can trust," Castiel said quietly, when the sun was kissing the horizon. "The two of you were close once. Perhaps you should rethink this life of seclusion."

"I don't want to be a pawn."

"And Gabriel is the one angel who would never make you one."

"You speak so highly of him now. I thought you hated all of the archangels."

"Hate is a strong word," Castiel replied, smiling faintly as he finished the last of his whiskey and stood. He could never accurately explain to any angel or human what had transpired between him and Gabriel during those late nights towards the end of the Apocalypse, when Dean was crying from nightmares and Sam was too scared to sleep for fear he'd see Lucifer. The desire to protect even when the odds were against you was a bond that ran too deep, smoothing over past transgressions and paving the way for something unbreakable.

"And now you sound like him, too," Balthazar grumbled, though there was no heat behind the words. Holding his hands up, he summoned what looked like a fragment of grace. In reality, Castiel could feel the power of heaven emanating from the ball of white light. He took it carefully.

"Thank you."

"Be careful, Cas," Balthazar said.

"I will. Think about what I said." Castiel spread his wings, flying to three different locations to confuse anyone who might be following him before he landed on the steps of the cabin, feeling a deep sense of relief that he was finally home. He opened the door quickly and froze.

Dean was passed out on the couch, still wearing the pajamas he'd been dressed in earlier. He was lying on his back, head tipped to the side to face Castiel. His shirt was rucked up to show his tummy, which was noticeably distended over the top of his pajama bottoms. His face was smeared in the remains of a sticky substance and crumbs, and he was still clutching a plate containing a half eaten piece of pecan pie in one equally sticky hand. There was a fork on the floor in front of the couch.

"Hey bro," Gabriel said, and Castiel turned to look at him in disbelief. Gabriel had an empty pie plate on his lap, but the sugar didn't seem to have done him much good. He looked exhausted. And frazzled.

"What happened?" Castiel asked, torn between amusement and exasperation.

Gabriel flicked a finger at Dean and shook his head. "And I didn't even have to change a diaper or give him a bottle yet. You're insane for doing this."

Castiel laughed. He couldn't help it. He stepped forward, letting the door close and lock behind him, and carefully handed the weapons over to Gabriel, who rose to take them. "It's not that bad. You're just not used to dealing with this Winchester in particular."

"He ate two pies," Gabriel said, with the sort of numb horror of someone who has seen something they can't un-see.

"Two pies? Honestly, Gabriel!" Castiel gently tugged the plate out of Dean's hand, hoping to get him to bed without Dean waking up. Unfortunately, Dean woke immediately at the loss of his pie, his face screwing up into what - had it been anyone else - Castiel would've said was the start of tears. He set the plate aside and hefted a squirming, half asleep Dean into his arms.

"He was hungry!"

"You're lucky he didn't make himself sick," Castiel scolded him, though inwardly he was relieved and he could tell that Gabriel knew it. He firmly patted Dean's back, pleased when the hunter belched against his shoulder and then subsided with an embarrassed, sleepy whimper. If a tummy ache and a fussy baby was the worst of Gabriel's baby-sitting exploits, then Castiel considered them all lucky.