With a Whimper

There was no amount of preparation that could’ve been worked out for the afternoon Castiel breaks the wall in Sam’s mind. When he, Dean, and Bobby find Eleanor Visyak dying bloody in an alleyway moments after Castiel and Crowley drain her of most of her blood. Adam and Michael had been practicing with their graces in the backyard (Adam had moved on from healing himself and was now able to do simple things like bringing dead flowers and plants back to life) when they heard the Impala roaring into the drive like a lion. Car doors slammed and Dean’s voice carried on the wind, “Bobby, come on, help me out here! We gotta carry him in!”

Adam froze where he was crouched on the ground, a finger on a dandelion he’d just resurrected, and he looked curiously up at Michael who was judging him. They caught each other’s eyes for a split second before Adam stood up quickly and ran around the house with Michael close on his tail.

“Dean! Sam!” Adam called out as he rounded the final corner, stopping short at the sight of Dean and Bobby carrying Sam limply between them as they struggled towards the house. “What the hell happened?” he asked, mouth agape.

“Open the door!” Dean huffed as he carried Sam’s top half with Bobby holding his legs.

Adam ran to open both the screen door and the heavy wooden one as Dean and Bobby shuffled on by slowly. Michael trailed behind them, a frown perpetually etched into his face. Adam let the doors slam once everyone was inside and together he and Michael followed as Dean and Bobby led Sam down the stairs into the basement.

“Where are you taking him?” Adam asked.

“Panic Room,” Bobby said brusquely.

“Why the Panic Room?”

“Adam!” Dean snapped as he looked back at him. “We’ll explain everything later, just...go practice your grace thing with Michael some more!”

Adam’s normally pale cheeks flushed red as he stood at the top of the stairs feeling like a small child who’d just been scolded. Oh, who was he kidding? He was a small child who’d just been scolded. He was about as useful as one, that was for sure, and it wasn’t like he’d be able to help much anyway.

Useless. As per usual. Might as well be Adam’s middle name.

Adam turned on his heel and was about to try storming away a la Winchester attitude but Michael grabbed him around the shoulders and steered him back towards the basement stairs, his grip firm and unyielding.

“No. No running away,” Michael mumbled into Adam’s ear. “I know you, Adam. I know what you want to do. Go help.”

“But Dean said—”

“Since when have you ever cared what Dean says?” Michael asked with a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes. He gave Adam a little push so he had to jump down onto the top step to avoid falling. “Go on. I’ll meet up with you later. I...don’t believe I will be very welcome down there.”

Adam looked back at the archangel and gave him a pleading look but Michael shook his head 'no, he won’t let Adam get out of this so easily.' Adam had no choice but to grit his teeth and bear it as he descended the stairs, stomping a little harder on each one as he goes further into the blackness at the bottom. He could hear Dean and Bobby grunting and furniture shifting as they settled Sam into the Panic Room.

Adam rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs and stood just outside the Devil’s Trap on the floor in front of the Panic Room door (Dean had so graciously explained what the symbol meant about a week prior). He crossed his arms and watched as, sure enough, Dean propped Sam’s head up on a pillow and Bobby pulled up two chairs for them to sit on as they kept watch over Sam.

Dean glanced up from Sam’s body and caught Adam standing there. “Adam, I told you to wait.”

Adam made a noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, well, I’m not waiting. What happened to Sam?”

Dean opened his mouth to possibly tell him to fuck off but Bobby cut to the chase. “Cas broke Sam’s wall and now we can’t get him to wake up.”

Adam frowned and stepped into the Devil’s Trap before actually entering the Panic Room and standing on the other side of Sam’s cot across from Dean. “Why would he do that?”

“To distract us,” Dean said sharply. “He doesn’t want us to stop him from opening Purgatory so he broke Sam’s wall to draw our attention away from him. That sneaky son of a bitch...” Dean ran his hand over his mouth as he trailed off, unable to go on any further.

Bobby watched him with a slight frown on his face, assessing the eldest Winchester as a doctor would a patient. “Dean...I know you’re hurting,” he began slowly, “but we need to figure out what our next move is. Sam’s dam is broke on one end and on the other end we’ve got a self-righteous angel going about the wrong way to bringing peace on Heaven. In Heaven. Whatever.”

“So what do you want me to do, Bobby? Huh? You want me to just leave Sam here while we go chase Cas around like we’re playing friggin’ cat and mouse?” Dean snapped. He walked around the cot to stand in front of Bobby, shoulders tensed and slightly hunched. “We don’t even know where to start looking. He could be anywhere by now. Hell, we could already be too late for all we know!”

“You’re not,” a new voice said from behind Adam.

Adam whirled around and regarded the unfamiliar figure with a raised eyebrow. Dark pants and a matching jacket and a deep V-necked light blue tee almost made the new guy blend in with the darkness of the basement behind him, but he stepped out of the shadows and the light from the Panic Room caught his face and made his blond hair shimmer a bit. Behind him, trying to hide from view but failing because of the bulk of his vessel, was Michael. Adam frowned, unsure of what to make of this unusual situation, but judging from their surprised reactions he assumed Dean and Bobby knew who the stranger was.

Sure enough, Dean greeted him none too kindly. “Well, well, well,” he mused, walking past Bobby to survey the man up close. “Fancy seeing you here after we tried calling you time after time.” The sarcasm is nearly palpable and for a moment Adam can almost see which Winchester he got his attitude from.

The man shrugged one shoulder, clearly not bothered by the frustration that Dean seemed to be radiating. “This hasn’t exactly been the easiest week for me either, despite what you may think.” He had a hint of an English accent to his voice.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Dean asked.

The man sighed and stepped forward into the Devil’s Trap without care. Again, Adam watched him curiously. If he were a demon he wouldn’t so readily get himself trapped, would he?

“You’re asking me to betray a friend, Dean. It’s not something I take lightly...though I can see it doesn’t weigh too heavily on your conscience at all.”

Dean glowered at the man. Yeah, Adam thought to himself, There’s definitely something different about this guy. He can’t be human. If he were, Dean wouldn’t hesitate to rip his head off his neck.

But Dean didn’t make a move on the man, merely glared at him.

Bobby cleared his throat. “Why’d ya decide to come now?”

The man jabbed his thumb backwards over his shoulder, pointing at Michael. “Big Brother is always watching me. Said it was an emergency.”

Bobby looked over the man’s shoulder at Michael. “You popped up to Heaven to grab him?”

“No. I called. He came.” Michael’s answer was brusque and to the point.

The man suddenly spotted Adam and grinned widely. “And you must be the little vessel that could.” He reached forward with one hand, intending for Adam to shake it, but he did so hesitantly. “Balthazar. Angel of Heaven and all that fun stuff. I’m here to help.”

“Help how?” Dean asked as Adam dropped his hand from Balthazar’s.

Balthazar looked up at him and smiled, though it was without real humor or joy. “I know where Castiel and Crowley are, where they’re planning on opening Purgatory.”

He dug around in the pocket of his pants for a moment before pulling out a slim piece of paper on which was written an address in handwriting Adam could barely make out before Dean reached over and snatched it from him. Dean looked at the address and read it over once before glancing up at Balthazar, who held up his hands and said, “that’s all I owe you.”

“Take us there,” Dean said with just a hint of desperation in his voice, tainting his otherwise steely exterior with emotion.

“Oh, no. I’ve already done my bit.”

“Bal—”

“No, Dean.” Balthazar’s voice is firm and commanding. “I’ve already done enough damage here.” He sighed and shook his head, eyes trained on the ground. “I’m betraying a friend, as are all of you. I can’t...I can’t hurt him anymore than giving you lot this address already will.”

With that said, he vanished on the spot before anybody could say anything otherwise.It was decided several heated minutes later that Adam would stay behind with Sam in case he woke up while Dean, Bobby, and Michael went after Crowley and Castiel. Michael didn’t seem too keen on letting Adam stay behind on his own, but Dean argued with him for what seemed like hours.

“Adam’s gonna be fine here, all right? He’s hopped up on angel juice, isn’t he? He’ll just stay in the Panic Room with Sam in case the poor bastard wakes up while we’re gone,” Dean repeated, speaking mostly to Michael as he packed guns into a black duffel bag sitting on the metal table in the Panic Room.

Michael stood behind him, frowning, as Adam knelt on the floor on the opposite end of the room filling plastic bottles with holy water from a larger jug. “And what if Sam wakes? What should Adam do then?”

Dean shrugged one shoulder. “Bring him.”

“Bring him?” Michael repeated in disbelief. “You want Sam running around in that state of mind?”

Dean slammed the duffel bag down onto the table, making Adam jump, but Michael didn’t so much as blink. “Look, what else do you want me to say?” Dean shouted. “If I tell Adam to just stay put, d’you think he’s gonna listen? Huh?” Michael didn’t answer and Adam didn’t say anything, because everyone already knew that of course the answer was no. “So might as well give him permission to do whatever the hell he wants. He does it anyway.”

“Hey, Dean, I’m still in the room, you know,” Adam snapped viciously as he stood up, holy water in both hands. “You might as well talk to me if you’re gonna talk about me.”

Dean held up a hand. “Look, just cool your jets, corky—”

Michael had to turn and grab Adam around the waist to keep the boy from rushing at Dean. He’d dropped both water bottles on the floor – luckily they were shut tight – in his attempt to throttle his older brother. Dean backed up a step in surprise, not exactly expecting Adam to try and attack him.

“Jeez, what is with you, man?” Dean asked incredulously, watching as Michael’s grip around Adam’s midsection tightened the more Adam struggled.

“Get the fuck off me!” Adam spat, digging his elbows into Michael’s chest. It didn’t do any good; Michael could barely feel it, as sharp as Adam’s elbows were. He hadn’t quite mastered his angelic strength yet so there was no budging the archangel for now.

“Adam, calm down—”

Michael tried to speak to him as calmly as possible but Adam clearly wasn’t listening. Blood was pounding in his ears and in his memories he tasted iron and felt his stomach clench and unclench as though it were trying to shove something up his throat and out of his mouth. Blood. Bile. The stench. He remembered none of it fit the décor of the room at the time, what with something so vile and disgusting taking place in a room so pristine and beautiful.

Zachariah baiting him. Adam standing up to him, trying to fight back for Sam and Dean’s sake.

And then: “Cool your jets, corky. Sit down. We’re doing it together. Plus, you still get your severance. You still get to see your mom, okay?”

Lies. It had all been lies.

Cool your jets, corky.

Fuck. The nerve.

Adam went slack against Michael’s chest, breathing hard as he shut his eyes tight and tried to drive the memory back down. He didn’t want to deal with it, not now. They already had enough on their plate as Michael had said. The last thing they needed to deal with was some more of Adam’s angst.

Adam let out a dry sob as he tried pulling himself from Michael’s arms. “Let me go,” he pleaded, gasping for air as he did so. “Please. I just...” He didn’t finish but merely struggled a bit more before giving up again.

Michael lowered Adam back to the ground but kept his arms around him, leaning in towards his ear and burying his lips in Adam’s straw-colored hair. “Adam, what is it?”

Adam shook his head, trying to swallow down the memory of the taste of his own blood.

Dean watched, trying to keep a blank look on his face as he saw the archangel nuzzling his brother. Not exactly something he’d expected from either of them when he first heard they’d broken free, but this wasn’t the time to deal with that. There were priorities, and for now, Castiel came first above all else. Even Sam, though truth be told, as long as Adam stuck close to him, Dean was sure Sam would be fine. The question was: would Adam? That question alone reorganized Dean’s priorities. Adam was here, now, hurting. Visibly hurting.

Neither hunter nor angel had any idea what was going on inside the youngest Winchester’s nogin right now, but once Adam had calmed down enough, Michael released his hold on him. Adam straightened out his shirt and ran both hands through his hair, taking deep even breaths, before he muttered “fuck” and sat down heavily in an empty seat, elbows on his knees and head bowed.

Dean was unsure whether he should leave him alone or try to talk to him. After a moment’s hesitation he gave Michael a look and luckily the angel understood, backing out of the Panic Room gracefully to give the brothers some alone time. Though Dean wasn’t as close with Adam as Sam was, he hoped maybe just by attempting to reach out to him that they could begin to fix that. It was all about baby steps, right? At least, that’s what Dean had been taught, anyway.

“Adam, what just happened?” Dean asked, opening the floor for him to explain. He leaned up against the table next to his youngest brother and crossed his arms over his chest, surveying him slowly. “I’ve never seen you like that.”

“’S nothing,” Adam lied, his voice low and exhausted. “I’m just...irritated. Didn’t get enough sleep the past few nights.”

Dean snorted. “Didn’t get enough sleep? You were about to rip my goddamn head off my neck. That doesn’t sound like a little crankiness to me.”

Adam didn’t respond or even move. Dean hesitated before trying again. “You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

“Is that a trick question?” Adam retorted.

Dean had to repress a snicker. At least the kid’s still got his killer attitude. “It’s not a trick question, Adam.” He pushed himself off the table and towered over him. “In fact, it’s a command. What’s going on with you?”

Adam looked up at Dean, eyes shadowed and tired. He didn’t speak for a moment and Dean was close to just giving up and letting him wallow in whatever misery he’d made for himself, but finally he spoke: “We never talked about it.”

“About what?” Dean asked.

“You leaving me behind that day.”

A hush fell over them, cloaking them both in heavy guilt. Dean tried to keep his face impassive but he was pretty sure he failed at doing so. He ran a hand over his mouth to try and buy himself some time to respond. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said with half a chuckle. “We, uh...we never did talk about that, did we?”

Adam watched him intently. “You’ve been avoiding it, haven’t you?”

Dean threw his arms out to his sides in confusion. “What else is there to say? I’m sorry, Adam. I really am, okay? I’m sorry you got caught in the crossfire and that you got involved in all of our shit. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, all right? You were never supposed to be dragged into this. Not the first time when you were killed by the ghouls, not the second time when Michael came for you... never.” Dean couldn’t stop rambling now; the words were just pouring out. “You were supposed to grow up and live a normal all-American apple pie life. Go to college. Be a doctor. Marry. Have the life Sam and I were never meant to have.” It hurt Dean to say the following but he knew it was something Adam had to hear. “You were John’s second chance at raising a kid the right way. And he took it, god damnit. But you were left defenseless and alone in the process. And for that, I’m sorry.”

When he was finished, he turned his back on Adam and faced the wall, trying to hide the sheen of tears that had begun to build up while he’d been talking. He wasn’t one to cry usually, but when it came to John Winchester... hell, especially John’s double life as Kate Milligan’s lover and Adam’s father, it was just tough to handle. It’d been hard for Dean to accept that John had moved on from Mary at all. Dean always saw her as the love of his life, and Adam’s very existence had always tainted that picturesque image.

Adam looked as a loss for words with his mouth slightly agape. He’d expected an apology, not a halfway rant.

Dean turned to look at him again once he’d regained his composure. “I understand why you’re pissed. Believe me, I do. We called you family and then we left you behind like you were nothing. But you also have to believe me when I say that we tried. Hell, I even tried talking Death into springing you, but it was a no go. We looked into every piece of lore we could find and there was nothing that would work.” He paused, not sure if he should admit this aloud, but then figured to hell with it. “When I first saw that Sam had been brought back, a part of me...a small part...wondered if, maybe...” He trailed off, looking at Adam sadly.

Adam shook his head. “Obviously, no. I was still down there. But I saw—” he sighed, “—I saw Cas coming down and raising Sam. Michael was still riding me but I could see it happening. I wanted to...I wanted to grab on and go with them, but I couldn’t. I didn’t have control over my body. So I stayed.”

Dean frowned and said, “Yeah, what’s with you two, anyway?”

“Who? Me and Sam?”

“No. You and Michael. I’d have thought you’d be a little... wary of him after all that time down there together.”

Adam tried to hide the blush in his otherwise pale cheeks as he looked down at the metal plated floor. “Yeah, well... we changed, you know? He changed,” he amended. “I just kind of... grew on him.”

“Growing on someone doesn’t mean you two have to start... you know...” Dean couldn’t find the word for it. ‘Dating’ didn’t sound right because the two of them would never have that kind of conventional relationship. “Getting close,” he said, choosing the words carefully.

Adam raised an eyebrow. “I think we’ve been pretty close enough already, don’t you think?”

Score one point for Milligan. Dean tried not to roll his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. You two aren’t exactly—”

“We’re not here to talk about me and Michael,” Adam interrupted. “And even if we were, I’d say it’s none of your business. We’re talking about you and me and Sam and what kind of fucked up family dynamic we’ve got going on here.”

Dean rounded on Adam. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Adam stood up from his chair at last and faced Dean. “Y’know, Sam talked this great big speech about family and how we gotta stick together because we’re all each other has. And then you two go and leave me behind to get my ass ridden for fucking decades in Hell.”

“You were right behind me,” Dean hissed. “I thought you got out with us. It’s not my fault you were too busy looking up at your future boyfriend as he came down—”

Adam shoved Dean backwards into the wall and for a moment Dean could’ve sworn his eyes had turned completely white. It was a damn good thing Adam didn’t have his archangel strength flowing because otherwise Dean was pretty sure he’d have dented the wall, if not gone straight through it with the force Adam had tried putting behind the shove.

Instead, Dean grunted with the force of the impact and reached out to grab the collar of Adam’s shirt as though grappling for a lifeline.

“What are you gonna do? Huh?” Dean’s voice was challenging, a ‘come hither’ to fight, for Adam to use him to take his frustration out on, to hit him. “Come on, man. Hit me if it makes you feel any better. You get a freebie – I won’t even hit back, I promise.”

The look in Adam’s eyes screamed ‘yes.’ He wanted to punch Dean right in his stupid Winchester face. It would be a hell of a lot less of a punishment than Adam felt he deserved, but still, it would release a lot of the tension and frustration he’d been feeling for years in the Cage. But before he could even decide if he wanted to actually hit his brother, Sam groaned behind him. Adam turned, dumbstruck, as before his eyes Sam began to convulse, shaking and twitching like he was being electrocuted. Dean’s hands dropped from Adam and he was at his brother’s side in an instant.

“Sam? Sammy!” Dean shouted, lightly smacking his cheek with the back of his hand. “Come on, Sammy, snap out of it!”

He didn’t even notice Adam slipping out of the Panic Room behind him.Michael hadn’t gone with Dean and Bobby quietly, but eventually they convinced him that Adam would be safest in the Panic Room anyway. And yes, he was allowed to bring Sam to the address Balthazar had given them, if Sam were to wake up while they were gone. Like Bobby had said – they’d need every helping hand they could find.

With everyone gone, having driven away in the Impala to save whatever bit of Michael’s grace he would’ve had to use otherwise, Adam had nothing left to do but keep a close eye on Sam. Bobby had been nice enough to bring Adam some of the books from his seemingly endless library upstairs so he was keeping busy by flipping through dusty tomes filled with images of all sorts of creepy creatures. He wasn’t really reading the text so much as he was just looking for a way to pass the time.

Sam wasn’t too difficult to take care of. The first few minutes he just laid there in his comatose state breathing normally with his eyelids occasionally twitching from the nightmares behind them. He stiffened on occasion but whenever Adam got up from his seat to check on him, his body would relax and he would go back to his peaceful breathing.

Adam had just opened his third book to flip through the pictures when he heard Sam groan. He looked up from the top of the large volume and saw that Sam was starting to sit up, eyes clenched shut and one hand to his forehead.

“Sam!” Adam dropped the book on the ground in his rush to kneel by the cot. “Sam, take it easy, man. You’re all right.”

“A-Adam...?” Sam tried opening his eyes but the light burned and he turned his face away from the ceiling, hunching over to protect himself. “Damnit...”

Adam nibbled on his bottom lip before he spotted a small towel folded up on the metal table. He checked to make sure Sam wasn’t about to fall over sideways out of the cot before he scrambled to grab it and use it to wipe his brother’s sweaty forehead, making sure to press gently in case it was tender. Sam winced but didn’t pull away.

“How’re you feeling?” Adam asked as he wiped the last of the sweat from his temple.

Sam shook his head slowly, eyes still shut tight and fingers massaging his forehead like he had a migraine. “Like I just got bashed in the head with a sledgehammer...”

“Sounds pleasant.”

Sam finally opened one eye to look at Adam. “Not funny.”

“Never said it was.”

Adam took the towel back and tossed it onto the table as he stood up, arms crossed as he looked down at Sam (that was a weird height change) and spoke. “Dean, Bobby, and Michael went after Cas while you were out of it. They’re gonna try and stop him opening Purgatory.”

That got Sam’s attention way better than Adam had thought it would. He swung his legs over the side of the cot and grabbed the hem of Adam’s shirt. The Winchesters were grabby today, it seemed.

“We have to go help them,” Sam wheezed a little breathlessly.

Adam stepped backwards, gently removing Sam’s death grip on his poor shirt. “All right, calm down. We’ll go help them. Balthazar gave us an address. But you really should rest before you go running off—”

Too late. Sam had already launched himself out of the cot and grabbed the handwritten address off the desk before pushing the heavy metal door open and making a beeline for the stairs. Adam had to run just to catch up with his longer strides.The wheel was spinning too quickly.

Adam and Sam couldn’t reach the warehouse in time to stop Castiel, no matter how much pressure Sam put on the gas pedal, no matter how many traffic laws they broke to get there, no matter how hard Sam tried stabbing Castiel through the chest with the angel blade they’d brought from Bobby’s home weaponry stash. Their presence didn’t do any good, didn’t change the course of events that Castiel had set in motion long ago.

Raphael died. Michael screamed.

And Castiel declared himself God.Michael had tried convincing Castiel to change his mind, that together they could perhaps convince Raphael not to continue down the path to the Apocalypse, but Castiel would have none of that. He was adamant, headstrong and shortsighted. Dangerous.

When Castiel killed Raphael with the snap of his fingers, Michael almost rushed the angel who stood there, believing he to be taking up their Father’s mantle. He almost tried to kill him, despite the fact that somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that Castiel was a changed person and that he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Michael as well, if given the chance.

But when Michael made a move to rush Castiel, to try to kill him and possibly die in the effort, the world halted with the call of his name: “Michael! No!”

Michael stopped himself, looked for the source, found himself in those blue eyes, was saved.Sam, Dean, and Bobby opted to go in the Impala and drive the seven hours back to Sioux Falls despite Michael’s offer to zap them back there two at a time and then return immediately for the car. Dean wouldn’t have it for the sake of the Impala, and even if he gave the thumbs-up, Bobby said it was a bad idea in Michael’s weakened state for him to pop back and forth so often. He didn’t want Michael to use up any more grace unless it was an emergency; even though it would take another titanic event to come anywhere near completely depleting Michael of his grace, Bobby didn’t want to take any chances. With Castiel temporarily out of commission while he ran around playing God, Michael was their only usable weapon on the battlefield against demons and Hell and whatever else came for them. Adam was still only learning, barely out of his diapers.

Adam, instead of sitting through another awkward semi-family road trip back to Bobby’s, tagged along with Michael as he popped them both into Bobby’s kitchen (at least he was given permission to bring the two of them back there). Michael leaned against the wall and Adam almost instantly collapsed into the nearest chair, emotionally and physically drained.

They remained quiet for a few hours, with Adam occasionally moving to and from the fridge to grab slices of cold leftover pizza and Michael silently raiding Bobby’s bookshelf for something random to read. The only noises were the sounds of each other’s breathing as the seconds and the minutes ticked by on the clock hanging on the wall above the table. Adam stared at it absentmindedly on occasion, hypnotized by its rhythmic movement, not really zeroing in on one particular spot, when Michael finally spoke: “I couldn’t save him.”

Adam tore his gaze away to look at him. “What?”

“I couldn’t save Castiel,” Michael mumbled again, green eyes fixated on the ground. “I tried my best but it was for nothing. I couldn’t save Lucifer, and now I couldn’t save Castiel.” He looked up at Adam, anger disappearing from his eyes, replaced by sadness and confusion. “Why can I not save my brothers from falling?”

Adam got up from the chair and reached out to Michael with one hand, drawing him in by the shoulder and wrapping his thin arms around Michael’s neck. Michael froze for a moment and Adam was suddenly worried that maybe he’d gone too far. After all, Michael was always the one who initiated their every physical contact; what if that was to protect himself from uncomfortable situations like this? But soon Michael melted against Adam and his arms were around his narrow waist and his face was buried in the crook of Adam’s neck, finding a comfortable spot despite Adam’s bony shoulder.

“You tried your best,” Adam said. It was a poor apology, and an even poorer excuse, but it was all he could think of saying. He wasn’t sure if Michael was the type to accept comfort or if he was more of a ‘Dean’ in that he’d always be blaming himself for everything no matter what anybody else said.

As it turned out, being one of the many sons of God made you a ‘Dean.’

Michael shook his head, still with his face buried in Adam’s skin. “No. I did not try my best. If I had, Castiel would not have opened Purgatory and absorbed all those souls. He would be here, safe, or better yet in Heaven where he belongs.”

“Cas was doing what he thought was right,” Adam said, knowing he was treading on dangerous and unknown territory. He wasn’t sure whether or not saying these things would piss Michael off but he was willing to come to Castiel’s defense if that’s what it took. “He knew Raphael was too powerful and he knew you wouldn’t take up the challenge unless he provoked you.”

Michael sighs shakily. “That still does not make him right.”

“But it’s what he believed was right. He did the best he could with what he had. Just like you did, when you tried to stop him the first time.” Adam started rubbing soothing circles on Michael’s back, trying to comfort him in a way he remembered his mother doing when he was younger. “There was no stopping him, Mike. He was too far gone already.”

Adam could feel Michael’s frown buried into his shoulder. “I should have found a way... another way...”

Adam pulled away from the hug slightly so he could use one hand to lift Michael’s chin so their eyes locked. Blue met green in an electric moment and Adam enunciated every word: “You need. To stop. Blaming. Yourself.”

And without really thinking why or what was to be gained out of doing so, Adam pulled Michael’s face closer and closed the gap between their lips. His heart was racing at such an erratic pace that for a moment he thought the poor thing was just going to give out altogether. But then Michael’s hand wandered up from his waist up his stomach and chest to cup the back of his neck gently, moving against Adam’s lips with such finesse and tenderness that it made Adam wonder if Michael had been thinking about new techniques since the last time this happened, and his heart began to calm itself.

Suddenly Adam found himself turned around completely, now with his back against the wall instead of Michael’s, their lips still locked together. The archangel’s hand on his waist was tight and Adam was sure he was going to bruise there but he didn’t really give a shit right now.

Michael pulled away breathlessly, panting a bit to catch his breath. He pressed his forehead against Adam’s and asked, “why did you do that?”

Adam couldn’t stop the smirk that crossed his face. “Because I figured it was the only way to shut you up.” He tilted his head and kissed him again, quickly. “And because I knew if I didn’t, you wouldn’t.”

Michael growled – literally growled – a little before pulling Adam back and crushing their lips together again, this time more aggressively than the first time, if that was even possible. Adam couldn’t help but moan a little into the kiss before Michael pulled away just as quickly as he’d started.

“Th-This isn’t right,” Michael stammered, but his grip didn’t loosen. “I shouldn’t...I mean, we shouldn’t...”

Adam caught the whine that almost broke through his lips; instead, he sighed and tried to press himself closer to Michael, trying to touch any part of him he could reach: arm, chest, hand, neck, shoulder, anything. He just needed to feel that Michael was there with him in that moment and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

It was fucked up, without a doubt, the way Adam felt about Michael given what they’d been through. It shouldn’t be like this. Adam should be trying to get as far away from the feathered fiend as possible. This was the angel who’d taken him as a vessel despite the grey area and the unclear lines that had been drawn. This was the angel who’d ridden him right into Hell, the angel who’d left him to Toretan whether he’d known it at the time or not.

But the more Adam thought about it, the more he began to realize that what he’d applied to Castiel also applied to Michael: he’d just been trying to do what he thought was right. How could he condemn Michael for the same thing he’d just defended Castiel?

“Listen,” Adam said, trying to make his voice as authoritative as possible, though he wasn’t so sure how he could possibly manage that, as a human speaking to a friggin’ archangel. “I’m not good with the whole ‘romantic declaration’ thing, but I can give it a shot, okay?” When Michael frowned, Adam plowed on in an attempt to reverse it. “There are a lot of ‘shouldn’ts’ running around right now. We shouldn’t be out of the Cage. I shouldn’t be alive. I shouldn’t be an archangel. You shouldn’t be turning into a human. Castiel shouldn’t have opened Purgatory. Sam shouldn’t have to struggle with his wall being torn down. Dean shouldn’t have to rely on beer to get him through the day.” Adam cupped Michael’s cheek in his hand, running a thumb over his cheekbone gently. “What’s the harm in adding one more ‘shouldn’t’ to the mix?”

Michael closed his eyes, drinking in the warmth of Adam’s hand, tilting his head slightly to the side so he could press more of it against his face. He remained like that for a moment or two and Adam was almost dying with the tension. He’d dealt with rejection before, of course, but this... this would be different. This was already different, in more ways than one. Adam wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle Michael saying no to him when he only now just realized he’d already said his yes to him years ago.

After another moment of Michael’s silence, Adam finally added, “Look. There will never be another you, and there will never be another me. Are we going to make this happen or not?”

That was all it took for Michael to reel Adam back in for another kiss, a gentler one where he tasted every inch of Adam’s lips, melting back against him and pressing him back into the wall. Adam’s hands wandered to Michael’s hips where his long fingers hooked around his belt loops and drew him in closer, trying to get him as close as possible before—

“Hey!” Dean’s voice ripped the air apart around them.

Michael jumped away, gasping a bit in surprise while Adam barely had time to remove his fingers from his jeans before they were ripped off.

The elder Winchester stormed into the kitchen, eyes shadowed by a mixture of rage and pain. “Are you two fucking kidding me?”

“Dean, wait, calm down.” Sam appeared behind him, one hand reaching out to grab onto the back of his jacket, but Dean moved away too quickly and Sam swiped at empty air.

“No, Sam, I will not calm down!” Dean roared, stepping into the space left between Adam and Michael. He looked from one to other as if trying to figure out whom he should be yelling at. He took the safer route and rounded on Adam. “This is what you do? Cas is off doing God knows what – don’t smirk at me – and Sam here is barely holding it together, and you go off and hook up with Buttercup over here?”

Before Adam could respond, Michael said, “humans deal with grief in different ways, Dean. It’s not uncommon for someone to find solace and comfort in the presence of someone else and try to hide their anguish.”

Dean turned on his heel. “Don’t even get me started on you. You have no say in this. You’re not a part of this family!”

“I thought blood didn’t make you family,” Adam snapped. “Or did that only apply to Castiel because you’re so fucking in love with him?”

This time it was Dean’s turn to shove Adam into the wall and it took all of Adam’s self control to keep his wings from flaring out in defense mode, which Michael had taught him a few days ago. Adam’s spine cracked with the force of the push; no doubt Dean wasn’t holding back because he knew Adam couldn’t die from it, the bastard.

“Dean, stop it!”

Sam grabbed Dean by the shoulder and tried to pull him away but all Dean did was shrug his jacket off and aim a punch at Adam’s face. Adam shut his eyes, his face screwed up as he prepared for the blow, but instead he felt the floor fall away from his feet and the rush of cool air against his skin and through his hair. There was a strong hand gripping his forearm and the pressure didn’t release until he felt himself stop moving. When the wind died down and Adam felt his feet touch something solid again, he opened his eyes slowly.

As he predicted, they weren’t at Bobby’s house anymore. Michael had grabbed him and transported him somewhere else to keep Dean from hurting him and to get them both away from the ever-present Winchester drama.

It was nighttime here and they were standing side by side in the middle of a snow-covered field, their feet sinking a few inches into the white powder. Adam wrapped his arms around his torso in an attempt to warm himself up (he could see his breath in the night air). Without saying a word, Michael sidestepped behind him and wrapped his arms around Adam, hugging him tight to his broad chest and kissing him on the shoulder so gently that Adam couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Where’d you bring us?” he asked.

Michael sighed into his shoulder. “I wasn’t sure at first...everything happened too fast and I had to make a split-second decision. But...” he trailed off as he forced Adam to turn around and face him, never letting go of him in the process. When they were nearly nose-to-nose, Michael motioned his head behind him. “Take a look for yourself.”

Adam peeked over his shoulder and at first, he didn’t see what the big deal was, but as his eyes adjusted to the combination of the colorless sky and the bright snow, he slowly began to make sense of what he was seeing and gasped at the sight of his old home in Windom.