Title: Lost and Found

Chapter: Thirteen

~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel wasn’t cooperating. Uzziel observed that truth with only the barest bit of annoyance. Since when had Castiel ever cooperated long anyway? He was as much a poster boy of free will as the Winchester brothers were. Indeed, it was almost expected that Castiel wouldn’t cooperate, so Uzziel wasn’t going to complain about it.

He simply scrapped his plans of a ‘chance’ meeting and sent soldiers to follow Castiel. They weren’t to engage him, merely request his presence. Also expected, Castiel ran, assuming their pursuit was with malicious intent. When those grew tired of pursuit, more took their place, a continuing circuit. Eventually, Castiel would have to stop running and they would meet face to face.

The time had come to put an end to Raphael.

The many pieces Uzziel had been covertly putting into place were ready. He’d gathered his forces, made his battle plans, and persuaded the faint of heart to take a stand. He’d risked himself many times, though not nearly as often as Castiel chanced death. Castiel seemed to walk that line daily. When he believed in a cause, he devoted himself to it wholeheartedly, using every last resource available to him for his advantage.

Admirable.

Raphael wasn’t even suspicious of Uzziel, a thing that constantly surprised him. He’d thought he would be found out by now, but no, Raphael was blind to the insurrection right before him, intent upon Castiel, certain that Castiel was wearing down and even gleeful in his belief of that. He wanted Castiel beaten down, certain there was no help anywhere for him. He also wanted Castiel captured alive so he, Raphael, could have the pleasure of disposing of him himself. Raphael thought Uzziel was pursuing Castiel under his orders.

It made the task of arranging a meeting with Castiel a bit easier. However, deceit was wearing. The end of war was going to be welcome. Uzziel couldn’t wait for that moment of peace that would come.

In his mind, he made a mental list of those things he and Castiel would need to discuss when it was all said and done. There’d be questions, concerns and matters they’d need to address and while he knew it wasn’t good to assume a victory before it was there, he had to have some hope to cling to. He imagined the heaven he wanted at present, not Paradise, because that was a dead dream, but rather a return to the peaceful days right after God had left them.

Did Castiel remember those days? So few really did. Not many had hung on to the memories like Uzziel had. The hours had been orderly, angels still involved in praising God and carrying out His commands, happy in their place, not yet realizing that their Father had left them alone….

He thought that without Raphael, he and Castiel had a chance at restoring order and returning heaven to a place of shining glory. Maybe together they could shake off the dust and dirt that was staining it all and prepare it for God’s return. He had to be coming back. It’s what Uzziel thought the favor bestowed to Castiel meant. He’d favored the lowest and humbled the highest.

But there was still more humbling to be completed.

One battle and then a new day could begin in heaven like it had on earth.

~~~~~~~~~~

At first, Sam had thought the shopping mall had something to do with their possible case. He quickly concluded he was mistaken as Dean seemed to lose all interest in keeping up a coherent conversation, muttering to himself as he paused in front of various stores. Sam couldn’t recall seeing Dean behave like this…well…ever.

“What are we doing at the mall,” he finally asked.

“Jo’s birthday is coming up.” Dean stopped in front of one mall map, index finger pointing, gaze scanning the contents. He grunted and started walking again, this time a little faster.

“So?”

“I want to get her something.”

“How do you know it’s her birthday?”

“I asked her.”

“When is it?”

“April.”

Sam laughed. “Dean, today is February twelfth. Her birthday is still two months away. Are you sure it’s not Valentine’s Day that you want to get her a present for?”

“Is it….” His expression shifted to one of chagrin. “Oh, it is.” He nodded. “Yeah, that’ll work. Okay, I want to get her something for Valentine’s Day.”

“Uh-huh. She’s your girlfriend then?”

Dean stopped walking, peering into the window of Victoria’s Secret with a pensive frown. “She lets me grope her.”

“That means she’s your girlfriend?”

“We text a lot.” He pointed at one particularly slinky piece of lingerie. “Think she’d look good in that?

“You want me to picture Jo in skimpy lingerie? Are you sure you want me to do that?”

“You don’t have to picture it on her, just think about the color. You do that sort of chick stuff. Is that a good color for her?” He immediately answered his own question. “Maybe in purple, not the green. I wonder if they have it in purple.”

“So she’s your girlfriend?” One way or another, he was going to make Dean say it and acknowledge what had been building. Slowly, Jo had become Dean’s girlfriend, though Sam didn’t think either Dean or Jo had ever mentioned that word to themselves or to each other. It was what she was, however. She fit the definition and fit it well.

“What? Didn’t quite catch that….” He went into the store, checking the rack. “No purple.”

“I know you’re not hard of hearing, Dean. If someone asks who Jo is, what do you say?”

Dean caught the attention of one saleswoman and turned on the charm with a flirtatious grin. “Would you happen to have this in any other colors, maybe a purple or a navy blue?”

“I’m sorry. It only comes in green, but if you’re looking for something similar for your…wife? Girlfriend?”

Apparently, Dean’s answer was to avoid directly answering the question, for he merely grinned wider. “She looks good in purple or navy or even a pale, pale pink.”

“Well, then, we have this chemise right here,” she stepped to another rack and held up a barely there bit of lace and satin, “or perhaps a bra and panty set?” She led them to a wall at the back. “These are very popular this season and do come in a variety of colors.”

“Thanks.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do.” When the woman had stepped away, after giving Sam himself a rather blatant once over (that he returned wholeheartedly), Dean crossed his arms and gave the wall a critical stare. “Do you think it’s too weird to give her lingerie?”

“Well, as you yourself said, she lets you grope her.”

“Lingerie says something though.”

“Yeah. On Valentine’s Day it says ‘I want to see this on you for two seconds and rip it right back off you’. If you’re looking for a romantic gesture, go for it -- unless you’re not sure of her size.”

“No, I know her size. These hands are surprisingly accurate with commercial sizing.” He held up a hand, slightly cupped, eyed it, then pointed at one rack on the wall. “That’s her size right there. I’ve never been wrong.” Then, he reached for the nearest rack and pulled out a teddy. “This is her size too.”

“So buy her one.”

He frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not romantic enough.” The teddy was shoved back on the rack.

“Ro --” If those two didn’t do something soon, Sam was going to lock them in a room together and not let them out until it happened. Anticipation was fine and dandy, but this was verging on ridiculous. “What’s her favorite color?”

“She claims it’s red.”

“What is it really?”

“Pink. That light pink that’s all cotton candy and babies.”

“How do you know that?”

“Dude, did you even notice her underwear when you packed it that day last fall?”

He shrugged. “Satiny, lacy, barely there.”

“Pink. Pink, pink, and, for a little variety, pink.”

“Buy her one of these things in pink then.” Sam reached out and touched a row of silky lingerie on one rack. “Looks like they’ve got several.”

His frown deepened. “It’s not romantic enough.” Slowly, a pleased light lit his eyes and he chuckled. “Oh yeah. I’ve just got the best idea….”

That glint in Dean’s eye was just mischievous enough to make Sam groan as he followed him from the store.

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t that Dean intended to go to a mall. Not really. He was inclined to avoid them usually, but when buying gifts of a more serious nature than a few cd’s, the mall was the place to go, especially for a woman’s gift.

So what did one buy for the woman who was more than a friend, but not quite a girlfriend, yet in that gray area where they occasionally made out in dark corners, texted and called a lot, and visited often?

Okay, maybe she was his girlfriend. Really, though, he hadn’t given the word much thought until Sam started mentioning it all the time in relation to Jo. He kept asking if Jo was Dean’s girlfriend, which didn’t annoy him, it just…made him think a bit harder about their relationship than he wanted to at present. Did Jo consider herself his girlfriend? If she did, then shouldn’t whatever he got her be romantic?

But what would be romantic for Jo? Dean could still list what had been romantic for Lisa. She’d liked the standard things like chocolates (not too many because they were fattening), flowers (roses preferred, carnations as a second, or some expensive exotic hothouse flower he’d never learned the name of as a third choice), or surprise dinners at upscale restaurants. The dinners and chocolates had been few, but he’d managed to swing flowers now and then. Jo though…. What would she like? He had no doubt that she’d be polite about any of those things. She’d probably eat the chocolates and not say one word about calories. She’d smile at the flowers. However, he didn’t think she’d be any more at ease than he was at one of those fancy restaurants.

Dean imagined Jo would like the worst dive he could find just fine as long as it served that beer she liked.

He wandered the building, peering into this store and that one, absent-mindedly answering Sam’s questions while he tried to think of the absolute perfect gift for Jo. He wanted something romantic, but not too romantic in a presumptuous way; something that would say more than ‘I want in your pants’.

Perhaps Victoria’s Secret was inappropriate he decided after perusing the store. After all, he’d hate to buy her something sexy without an assurance he’d get the payoff of actually seeing it on her.

Was there a gift that said ‘I want in your pants, but I’ll respect your boundaries even if they give me blue balls’?

What would Jo like? It couldn’t be about what he’d like for her. This had to be about what she’d like. She was a woman, first and foremost, but she was also a hunter….

An idea took root and Dean knew it was perfect.

~~~~~~~~~~

“We could use some muscle on this one,” Ellen observed, going over the file they’d put together again. “Why don’t you call one of your cousins, invite him along?”

Gwen shook her head. “I don’t know, Ellen. I think we can handle it by ourselves.”

“Sweetie, how old am I? Like it or not, we need muscle on this one -- male upper body strength. As fit as you and I are, we just don’t have the physique and I hate to let this slip by without being taken care of.”

She wasn’t understanding Gwen’s reticence in inviting her cousins along. By now, Ellen had heard quite a bit about the two men and was wondering when she’d get a chance to meet them. They sounded like good young men, solid in experience and work ethic.

“They’re probably busy.”

“Won’t know unless you call,” she responded in a reasonable tone, watching Gwen’s expression carefully.

Resignation slowly crossed her features. Gwen was weakening, perhaps thinking of the pulled muscles they’d both suffered from after that last job in Texas. “I hate to interrupt their road trip is all. They’ve been reconnecting lately….”

Ellen had heard all about that road trip and how the two men had decided they needed to take some down time for awhile after all they’d been through. It was a sensible decision. Hunters sometimes needed large chunks of downtime to deal with the crap they went through on a daily basis. “You really think they’ll say no to a paying gig?”

Amusement glittered in her eyes. “No, they won’t say no to being paid.” She sighed and reached for the folder. Laying it before her, she scanned the contents. “I’ll call tonight after we finish up interviews. Might as well have all the facts and be sure of them before I talk to them.”

“Then let’s go talk to the next witness. Sooner we get done, the sooner we can get a full team together.”

There was something familiar in those words that niggled at the back of Ellen’s brain and she heard the whisper of a man’s voice saying, “Allies are hard to come by and I can’t think of anyone better to have with us on this than you two.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d heard a phantom voice. Usually, it was a woman’s voice that spoke to her, the whispers barely there, almost too low to be heard. The first time she’d heard it, she’d thought Gwen was talking to her, but it hadn’t been Gwen at all. It was a piece of forgotten life. Had to be. Fragments of memory teasing her consciousness.

While Ellen waited, there were no more whispers at present, and she put the folder away before following Gwen outside to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dean wasn’t listening to reason and it wasn’t the first time, Sam reflected. As soon as he’d realized what Dean had planned, he’d tried to talk him out of it, having terrible visions of Jo royally pissed off.

“That gift is not romantic for a woman, Dean.” Sam took a drink from his glass.

“What are you talking about? It’s very romantic, especially for a woman hunter. Trust me, Sam. She’ll love it.”

“Lingerie is romantic. Candy and flowers are romantic.” He pointed a finger at the bag sitting on the table. “That is not romantic. It’s a buddy gift. It’s the sort of thing you give Bobby for his birthday, not Jo on Valentine’s Day.”

“You’re wrong, Sammy. I’ve got her figured out.” Dean tapped his temple. “I know how her mind works.”

Sam rolled his eyes and sat back so their server could set their food on the table. “I can see it now. Romantic setting. Handing Jo a pretty gift wrapped box. Her opening it. You being thrown out in the snow for giving her a buddy gift.”

“You have to understand, Sam. Jo’s different….” His glance strayed to the left and to a pretty woman standing at the bar.

“What would Jo say about you ogling that woman?”

He studied her a long minute. “She’d say her boobs are too small, but that she’s got a pretty face.”

“Oh, you think she’d say that, huh?” He raised his brows and cut his chicken in several pieces.

“I know so.”

“Prove it.”

Without a pause, Dean took out his phone and took a picture of the woman. He added a message and held it out to Sam. The message said ‘what do u think?’ Dean sent it.

“You actually sent that.” Sam shook his head. “I can’t wait to see what she says.”

Dean set his phone on the table and reached for his silverware, cutting his steak and pouring a liberal application of steak sauce over the pieces. “As I started to say, Jo’s different. I don’t know what it is, but ever since we got her back…I keep thinking about her. She’s something….”

“Special?”

He didn’t agree or disagree, his expression indicating however that he strongly agreed. “And it’s not that I can’t stop thinking about her either. I can. I just want to think about her.” His phone buzzed and he picked it up. After a minute, he held it out. “I won’t say I told you so.”

Jo’s reply was exactly what Dean had predicted. ‘Boobs 2 small. Pretty though.’

The phone disappeared back into his pocket.

“Okay. So you know her well.” He decided to push on in the logical end of the conversation, see how Dean reacted. “Where are you going to go with it? I mean, Jo isn’t one for a few nights and then you leave her. You know that. She wants more, Dean. Do you want to give her that? Are you willing to?”

To his surprise, Dean’s reply was almost immediate. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t want to make the same mistakes I made with Lisa.”

Sam sighed, pushing a piece of broccoli about his plate with his fork and debating how to say what he wanted to say. Bluntly was probably best. He thought a part of Dean still didn’t understand how incompatible Lisa had been with their world. Not only had she been a civilian, she’d been a civilian who hadn’t wanted anything to do with their world, least of all with Sam in Dean’s life. Jo didn’t have that problem. She accepted all of Dean, not just the bits she wanted to see. “It’s impossible to make the same mistakes with Jo because she’s not Lisa. She doesn’t have a child and she’s not a civilian. She’s a hunter, raised to know about it all. Jo knows the life, the risks, everything.” He speared one broccoli floret with his fork. “Frankly Dean, you couldn’t pick a better woman than Jo. You want a woman who gets you? She’s right there waiting. What are you waiting for?”

Dean sat back in his chair, staring at him, a strange expression on his face.

“If you want a woman who’ll meet you halfway and give as good as she gets, that’s Jo and I think you’d have to be stupid to let her slip away again. I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“You’ve gotten vocal.”

What sense was there in being discreet about it? Jo wasn’t going to wait around forever. Sure Dean had her now, but if he didn’t make a real move soon she’d move on. She wasn’t going to not live life. Dean had to make up his mind. “Calling it as I see it.”

He shook his head. “Maybe I don’t intend to let her go.”

“Don’t wait too long,” Sam cautioned.

Dean’s gaze slid to the bag. “Oh, I won’t.”

Sam’s phone rang. It was Gwen and when she was done talking, he told her, “I’ll come. Dean’s busy with something. I’ll leave in an hour or so, be there in a couple days.” He hung up. “There. Looks like fate’s giving you a clear shot at Jo. Gwen wants me to meet up with her and her hunting partner in Massachusetts and work a job. I’ll head out there, you go to Jo, and don’t be stupid.”

“Well, don’t you just have it all planned out. Going to hand me a box of condoms next and tell me to be safe?”

Drawing out his wallet, he pulled out a twenty, flicking it across the table. “Here. Buy some condoms and be safe.”

“You’re getting to be quite the smartass, Sammy.”

“And you love it. Eat your steak, Dean. I have a feeling you’re going to need your strength.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel waited, blade drawn. It was time to take a stand and if he went down, then so be it.

He was going to go down swinging.

Angels appeared. Three, six, ten and more until he was surrounded. Angel after angel appeared, some he recognized and others he didn’t. They didn’t attack immediately and he wondered what they were waiting for. Slowly, the throng parted, revealing the figure walking towards him.

The angel’s vessel was tall, with brown hair and craggy features, his stride confident and slow. It was Uzziel. He stopped a few feet away and slid his hands into his pants pockets, his coat pushed back. It was a casual pose, one that intimated how at ease he was with the world. His brows rose.

“What, no greeting? Hello, Castiel.”

“Uzziel.” His glance darted to the angels surrounding him and back at Uzziel, still surprised there’d been no attack thus far. He would have thought they’d fall upon him quickly and use his death as a paving stone for Raphael’s new world.

“One of us should say something trite and cliché here, like ‘I’ve been waiting for this moment’.”

“You just did,” he pointed out.

“So I did.” Uzziel gestured at him. “Are you really planning to fight us all with one blade?”

“If I have to.”

He smiled. “You have mettle. I like that.” Uzziel sighed. “So what happened, Castiel? You were following me like a good little tracker, heading right towards the meeting I had planned, but then you decided to become difficult. I had to come after you.”

“You led me to a dead angel.”

Uzziel waved one hand. “He needed dealt with. If I hadn’t, he would have carried tales to Raphael and I can’t have that.” Taking a step closer, he gestured between them. “We can’t have that.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’ve worked very hard to help you and he can’t know I’ve turned one-third of his army against him until it’s too late. You’ve one-third behind you already. With our forces combined, we’re more powerful than he is. Our two-thirds of angels will fell the final third and Raphael will be no more.”

“Then who rules the heavens? You?” A sliver of hope grew inside him. He’d heard whispers that someone close to Raphael was planning to defect, but he hadn’t dared to hope it was true. This had to be a cruel joke.

Uzziel laughed. “Hardly. We, you and I, act as Stewards for God’s return -- that role a few of us were supposed to do to begin with. We watch over what remains, but there’ll be no ruling, merely an effort to organize the way our Father would want.”

“Why? Why join me?”

“Because the price is too steep. If Raphael has his way, there’ll be no one in Paradise because we’re all dead and gone. It’ll be an empty place. Don’t know about you, but I’d rather enjoy Paradise than be a part of the dust that makes it up.” He stepped closer still and Castiel raised his blade, the point nearly touching Uzziel. “You have God on your side, Castiel. It took some doing to get others besides myself to see it, but the evidence is overwhelming. You are favored and there are many who’d rather be with one favored than with another steeped in bitterness who cannot see the hope standing before him. I don’t know why you found favor, but I will stand by you and finish this once and for all. Maybe when He comes home, you can put in a good word for me and my own.”

To Castiel’s surprise, Uzziel knelt in front of him.

“Brother. I’ve come to join you and hereby lay my forces at your feet.”

The angels also knelt and Castiel saw that there were even more there than he’d thought there were.

“Command us.” There was no deceit in Uzziel’s gaze or manner.

He swallowed hard, suddenly realizing that if this was true and real, the end of the war could be far closer than he’d dared to dream.