"Have a good day," the cashier said with a smile, handing Nadia the receipt for her breakfast order.

"You too," Nadia replied, taking the flimsy paper with her pinky finger. Her hands were already full—gripping a hot coffee in one hand, and balancing a greasy paper bag of breakfast sandwiches in the other. Dean still hadn't said much about the events from the night before, and she wasn't sure how to break the silence. She hoped the food would lift his spirits, even if just a little.

As she stepped outside the coffee shop, heading toward the street, she bumped into Anna. The older angel had clearly been waiting for her.

"How is he?" Anna asked, her tone soft, eyes searching Nadia's face.

"Not good," Nadia replied, her gaze distant as they began walking together, their steps naturally falling into sync. "But I think he'll pull through. I hope at least."

Anna nodded, sadness clouding her expression as she noticed the subtle worry in Nadia's eyes. "Have you talked to Castiel?"

"Yeah, why?"

"He came to me..." Anna hesitated, her voice lowering with concern. "He's considering disobedience."

"Is he?" Nadia's voice betrayed a hint of surprise. "I thought he'd be all in with the mission."

"He asked for help on what to do." Anna's words were careful, measured.

"What'd you tell him?"

"I told him he needed to figure it out on his own."

Nadia gave a soft laugh, though it lacked any humor. "The ol' tough love bit, huh?" She shook her head, then added, "He came to me too. Asking for help, I mean."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "What'd you tell him?"

"I told him to follow his doubt," Nadia said with a small sigh. "I'm sure he'll figure out soon enough that his buddy Uriel's a snake in sheep's clothing."

Anna's steps faltered slightly. She stopped in her tracks and turned to face Nadia fully. "Wait."

Nadia halted too, looking back at Anna with a raised brow. "What?"

"You think Uriel's involved in all this?" Anna asked, her voice quiet but urgent.

"There's no doubt in my mind," Nadia replied firmly. "The guy's been MIA since they put Dean on the job. If Dean's so important, if the angels need him so badly, Uriel should've been there to protect him just like Castiel was. I'd be hunting the son of a bitch myself if it weren't for Dean."

Anna's eyes narrowed as she thought it over. Nadia's shoulders slumped, an exhausted sigh escaping her lips. "What now?"

"If Uriel is involved," Anna said slowly, "and Castiel confronts him... he might kill him."

Nadia's stomach tightened. "Just like he tried to kill you, kill me." Her voice became quieter as the pieces of the puzzle clicked together in her mind. "Just like... he probably killed those other angels."

Anna's expression shifted, a flicker of shock passing through her. "Capturing Alastair, blaming demons—"

"It's the perfect deflection..." Nadia's voice trailed off as she processed the implications.

Anna shook her head slightly, confusion clouding her gaze. "But why? I get why he'd want to kill us. I fell, you're a Nephilim, but those other angels... why? What's his endgame?"

Nadia hesitated, then gave a small, resigned shrug. "I guess we'll find out." She glanced down at the bag of food she was still holding. "I'm gonna drop this off for the boys. I'll meet you back at the meat plant."

Anna gave a nod, her wings unfurling as she prepared to take off. "Alright. Be careful."

As Anna disappeared, Nadia continued her walk down the sidewalk, her mind racing with everything she'd just uncovered.

Nadia and Anna were righter than they knew. Castiel had already confronted his fellow brethren, seeking clarity. According to Uriel, their superiors had made the decision to halt the hunt for the demon responsible for killing angels.

As if Castiel wasn't doubtful enough already, the more he thought about it, the more he began to question the origins of the orders he'd been following. He had believed they came from his Father, but now he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

Uriel, in particular, felt like the most glaring piece of the puzzle. The same angel who had once been so adamant about Dean torturing Alastair and tracking down the demon killing their brothers and sisters now seemed content to let it all go.

It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. Castiel could feel the weight of doubt pressing down on him, but he couldn't afford to let his mind spiral into uncertainty any longer. He needed answers, something concrete to hold onto. So, he found himself drawn back to the meat plant.

He stood in the empty room, his eyes scanning the surroundings with intensity. Castiel slid his finger over the remnants of the trap that had once been so meticulously drawn, the paint now washed off, leaving only faint traces behind.

His gaze shifted upward, following the slow drip of water from the pipe above. The steady sound of it echoed in the stillness. His eyes moved down, following the path of the water along the rusted metal until it led him to a faucet tucked behind a pillar.

Castiel raised his hand, squeaking the faucet closet with his mind.

"You called?" Uriel entered. "What do you say, Castiel? Will you join me? Will you fight with me?"

Uriel shook his head, a thin veil of frustration clouding his features. "Alastair was much more powerful than we had imagined."

Castiel's eyes narrowed, his voice unwavering. "No. No demon can overpower that trap. I made it myself." His fingers curled slightly, a silent echo of his confidence, the memory of crafting the trap still fresh in his mind.

Uriel didn't respond immediately, his gaze shifting away, his face betraying no guilt, just quiet contemplation.

Castiel tilted his head at him, sensing the hesitation, sensing the distance growing between them. He slowly took a few steps forward, his boots making a soft scuff on the ground as he neared his once-familiar ally.

"We've been friends for a long time, Uriel," Castiel's voice softened, but it still held the weight of their shared history. "Fought by each other's sides, served together away from home... for what seems like forever. We're brothers, Uriel. Pay me that respect. Tell me the truth."

The silence hung between them, thick and oppressive, until Uriel finally spoke, his voice colder than before. "The truth is..." He paused, and then his hand moved with a swift, practiced motion, pulling an angel blade from the sleeve of his robe, the metal gleaming with deadly precision. "...the only thing that can kill an angel..." He held the blade out, the point angled toward Castiel's chest. "...is another angel."

"You..." Castiel stammered, the words barely leaving his lips, a mixture of disbelief and hurt twisting in his gut. "You..."

"I'm afraid so," Uriel responded flatly, the malice in his voice unmistakable.

"And you broke the devil's trap, set Alastair on Dean," Castiel's voice was raw now, a mix of anger and betrayal fighting for control.

Uriel's sigh was soft, yet it carried a tinge of annoyance, as though Castiel's outrage was inconvenient, almost an afterthought. "Alastair should never have been taken alive. Really inconvenient, Cas." He rolled his eyes, as if dismissing the weight of the situation. "Yes, I did turn the screw a little. Alastair should have killed Dean and escaped, and you should have gone on happily scapegoating the demons."

"For the murders of our kin?" Castiel's voice rose, sharp and incredulous, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You did this for that? You betrayed everything we are!"

"Not murders, Castiel," Uriel shot back with a sneer, his eyes hardening as he stepped closer, his voice almost a whisper. "No. My work... is conversion." He leaned in, the words dripping with venom. "How long have we waited here? How long have we played this game by rules that make no sense?"

Castiel shook his head, his breath coming faster, his chest tight with the weight of the revelation. "It is our father's world, Uriel," he said, his words quieter now, a hint of sadness creeping in.

Uriel scoffed bitterly, shaking his head in disgust. "Our father?" His tone was laced with venom. "He stopped being that, if he ever was, the moment he created them." His lips curled into a sneer, his hands curling into fists. "Humanity, his favorites. This whining, puking larva..." His words were sharp, his hatred for humans evident in every syllable.

"With you, we can be powerful enough to—"

"To...?"

"To raise our brother."

"Lucifer," Castiel's voice faltered with disbelief. Uriel's intentions were worse than he'd imagined.

"You remember him, don't you?" Uriel's smile was laced with nostalgia as he circled Castiel. "How strong he was? How beautiful?"

The two locked eyes, the air thick with tension.

"And he didn't bow to humanity," Uriel continued, his tone turning bitter. "He was punished for defending us. Now, if you're going to believe in something, Cas, believe in him."

"Lucifer is not God," Castiel growled, his jaw tightening in defiance.

"God isn't God anymore," Uriel spat, his words dripping with contempt. He paced around Castiel once more, his voice rising. "He doesn't care what we do. I am proof of that."

Castiel's fists clenched at his sides, an unsettling feeling crawling up his spine. "But this?" His voice shook with revulsion. "What were you going to do, Uriel? Were you planning to kill the entire garrison?"

"I only killed the ones who said no," Uriel answered coldly, as if the matter was simple.

Castiel's eyes narrowed, his glare burning with fury.

"Others have joined me, Cas," Uriel said, his voice softening as he leaned in closer. "Now, please, brother, don't fight me. Help me."

Castiel stood still for a long moment, staring at the floor, his thoughts in turmoil.

"Help me spread the word. Help me bring on the apocalypse," Uriel pressed, his tone coaxing, almost pleading. "All you have to do is be unafraid."

For a beat, Castiel said nothing. Then, slowly, he raised his head, locking eyes with his brother.

"For the first time... in a long time... I am." The weight of his words hung in the air like a storm waiting to break.

Uriel's grin widened, thinking he had won. But Castiel's next move shattered that illusion. With a swift, decisive motion, he punched Uriel so hard that the force sent him crashing through a brick wall.

Dust and debris filled the air as Uriel stumbled to his feet, shaking off the rubble with a growl. He dusted his hands off, a look of frustration flashing across his face.

With a sudden, fluid motion, Uriel was on him again, launching himself at Castiel with a fury. They exchanged a brutal series of blows, each punch landing with a sickening thud.

But Uriel was faster, stronger. With a swift twist, he threw Castiel into a pillar, sending a shockwave through the room.

Castiel hit the pillar with a sickening crack, but he didn't stay down. Blood spilled from his mouth as he pushed himself to his feet, his eyes cold with determination.

Uriel shook his head, his disappointment evident. The tension between the two was thick, the air charged with the heavy weight of inevitability. It was clear that only one of them would walk away from this.

In a flash of motion, Castiel struck, landing two sharp punches to Uriel's face. The force of the blows sent Uriel staggering back, crashing into the wall behind him. Castiel stood there, chest heaving as he kept his fist poised, ready for the next strike.

But Uriel was quick to retaliate. He grabbed a metal bar from the nearby debris and swung it with brutal precision. The bar connected with Castiel's face, the sickening sound of metal against bone echoing in the room.

Castiel staggered back, his knees giving way as he collapsed to the floor. Blood streamed from his nose, the bridge of it crushed under the blow. He gritted his teeth, fighting to stay conscious, his breathing shallow and labored.

Uriel gripped Castiel by the collar, his mouth and nose dripping blood as he sneered down at him. "You haven't even met the man. There is no will," Uriel spat, delivering a vicious punch to Castiel's face. "No wrath," he struck again. "No . . . God." A third punch landed hard, knocking Castiel's head to the side.

The sound of Uriel's next blow cut through the air, but his fist was stopped mid-swing. He was yanked backward by his collar, and before he could process the movement, he was thrown across the room with unnatural force. He crashed hard into the broken devil's trap, his breath leaving him in a stunned gasp.

He pushed himself up, fear creeping into his chest as he saw Nadia and Anna standing together, watching him with cold, unblinking eyes. Nadia's gaze locked onto him with a quiet fury that sent a chill down his spine.

She approached slowly, her archangel blade gleaming in her grasp. "You know..." she said, her voice calm, almost thoughtful. "My mom warned me about angels like you." She knelt down, meeting him eye to eye, her expression twisted in disgust. "What a waste of grace," she murmured, her lips curling in a grimace.

Uriel's jaw tightened. "You can't stop it," he spat, his voice laced with defiance. "The apocalypse. It will happen."

Nadia's eyes darkened, and a bitter smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Yeah, maybe," she said, her voice lowering. "Too bad... you won't be there to see it."

Without another word, Nadia plunged her archangel blade deep into Uriel's throat, her strength making the strike swift and sure.

The gasp that escaped him was deathly and final. His body shuddered as his light began to dim, but Nadia didn't pull the blade away yet. With a swift motion, she kicked him back, watching as his lifeless body slumped to the ground, releasing her blade with a sickening sound.

Anna and Castiel stood by her side, their eyes locked on Uriel's corpse. As they stood there, the building trembled, and a bright, blinding light erupted from Uriel's body, shooting through the room with the intensity of a divine explosion.

The shockwave left his wings seared into the floor, burned into the devil's trap in an eerie, glowing imprint. Nadia, Anna, and Castiel stood motionless, watching the aftermath unfold, their faces a mix of resolve and quiet sorrow.

"Is it good?" Nadia asks Dean, watching him bite into his burger with a casual curiosity.

Dean chews loudly, thoroughly enjoying the food. He raises a thumb in approval and stuffs a few fries in his mouth, chasing them down with a cold beer.

Nadia smiles briefly, but her thoughts are elsewhere. Vanessa's warnings about angels with apocalyptic ambitions echo in her mind. Uriel's plan had brought all of that fear into sharper focus—he had converted other angels to his cause, and who knew how many of them were already acting on it. Demons were dangerous enough, but now, angels might be too. It felt like one endless threat after another.

"Where'd you go?" Dean's voice breaks through her thoughts.

"Huh?" Nadia blinks and refocuses on him.

"You dropped off breakfast, said you had to do something with Anna, and just bolted."

"Oh, uh... we went to save Castiel." She shrugs lightly.

Dean arches an eyebrow, skepticism in his gaze.

"Uriel wasn't on our side. He's the one who let Alastair loose. He killed those angels. Castiel confronted him about it."

"And...?" Dean prompts, waiting for her to finish.

"And he won't be a problem anymore. I made sure of that," Nadia says coolly, popping a fry into her mouth.

Dean pauses, setting his burger down, his appetite suddenly dulled by the weight of her words.

"Alastair told me somethin'." Dean's voice has a strained edge to it.

"What's that?" Nadia picks up another fry, chewing thoughtfully.

"He said that I broke the first seal," Dean continues, his eyes darkening. "I broke it when I got off the rack and started torturing."

"Okay..." Nadia sighs, absorbing the information. "What if he was lying?"

"But what if he wasn't?" Dean counters quietly, his eyes far away. "What if it's true?"

"Okay, what if?" Nadia shrugs. "It's not like you knew. And you're still important, Dean. The angels, they still care about you. Some of them, at least."

Dean shakes his head, a bitter smile curling at his lips. "I don't think I can, Robin. I'm not—"

"Don't you dare," Nadia interrupts, her voice firm. She grabs his hand, her grip strong as she looks him in the eyes. "You are Dean Winchester. It's never been a matter of if you can, but when you decide to do it. I know you're under pressure, but never doubt the fighter inside of you."

Dean pulls his hand away and looks off, his face creased with frustration. A quiet sigh escapes him.

"You need a break," Nadia says, her voice softer now. "We should go up to the cabin for a while, regroup if you will."

Dean typically wouldn't agree to something like that. He'd usually be itching for a hunt or a drink to numb his thoughts. But as he looks at Nadia, he feels something shift. For the first time in a long while, he doesn't feel the need to hide from her. At least not with her.

"What do you say?" she asks again, hopeful but not pressuring.

Dean nods quietly, the weight on his shoulders easing slightly. "Okay."

Nadia's relief is palpable. She smiles softly, happy that he didn't need much convincing. "Here," she says, reaching for a salad bowl. "You should see if Sam's hungry."

Dean hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering toward her. "Can you? I just... I don't have the strength for it."

Nadia nods in understanding. "Yeah, I'll do it." She knows this conversation is one Dean can't handle right now. He'd barely gotten out of his own head to talk to her; confronting Sam would be too much for him.

She heads next door to where Sam is, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts.

Dean stares down at his untouched burger, Nadia's words still echoing in his mind: "Don't ever question the fighter I know you are."

He appreciated her belief in him. But after everything with Alastair... he wasn't so sure he was the man for the job anymore.

Just as he lifts his burger to take a bite, Castiel suddenly appears in the seat where Nadia had been moments before.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asks, his voice a mix of concern and something harder to identify.

Dean sets his burger down, brushing the crumbs off his hands. "No thanks to you."

Castiel looks at him with an almost sympathetic gaze. "You need to be more careful."

Dean smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You need to learn how to manage a damn devil's trap."

"That's not what I mean," Castiel replies, his expression growing more serious. "Uriel is dead."

"Yeah," Dean mutters. "He was working against us. Nadia told me. Is it true?" He looks directly at Castiel, unable to shake the nagging questions.

Castiel gazes at him with furrowed brows, processing his words. "Yes," he admits reluctantly. "When we discovered Lilith's plan, we laid siege to Hell. We fought our way to you before you—"

"Jump-started the apocalypse," Dean finishes bitterly, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his face with both hands.

Castiel stands, his disappointment palpable as he looks at Dean. "And we were too late."

Dean stands abruptly, turning his back to Castiel, frustration simmering under his skin. "Why didn't you just leave me there then?"

Castiel doesn't flinch. "It's not... blame that falls on you, Dean. It's fate."

Dean turns back, confused and angry. "The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it," Castiel continues, his eyes piercing. "You have to stop it."

Dean looks at him, eyes narrowing. "Lucifer? The apocalypse? What does that mean?"

Castiel doesn't answer immediately, his gaze distant as if he were weighing something. Dean's patience snaps.

"Hey!" Dean barks, frustration clear in his voice. "Don't go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch. What the hell does that mean?!"

"I don't know," Castiel says, his voice steady but filled with resignation.

"Bull," Dean spits, shaking his head.

"I don't, Dean," Castiel insists, his eyes locking with Dean's. "They don't tell me much. I know... our fate rests with you."

Dean laughs bitterly, his voice cracking. "Well, then you guys are screwed." His hands shake as he runs them through his hair. "I can't do it, Cas. It's too big. Alastair was right. I'm not all here. I'm not— I'm not strong enough."

His voice breaks as the tears begin to fall, his mask of bravado crumbling. "Well, I guess I'm not the man either of our dads wanted me to be." His shoulders tremble as the weight of the moment sinks in. "Find someone else. It's not me."

Castiel watches him for a long moment, silent and unmoving. Then, with a quiet sigh, he flies away, leaving Dean to wrestle with his inner turmoil.

Meanwhile, Nadia walks into Sam's room with the salad.

"I hope you haven't eaten yet," she says, her voice light but careful.

"I haven't, thanks," Sam replies, his tone wary as he looks up at her. He remembers their last confrontation all too clearly—her hand still stings from where she hit him yesterday.

"This isn't an apology," Nadia says before he can speak, reading his mind. "Just because we're at odds doesn't mean we don't take care of each other."

Sam nods, not quite sure how to respond. "Right, thanks."

A heavy silence hangs between them.

"Listen," Nadia says after a beat, "Dean and I are going to head up to my parents' cabin for a few weeks. I think he could use a break."

Sam looks thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

Nadia shrugs, trying to keep the mood light. "You're welcome to join us..."

Sam chuckles, shaking his head. "Now you're just being polite."

"I am," she admits with a laugh. "But, hey, you're welcome."

"No, I'm good. We'll catch up in a few weeks," Sam says, pulling the Impala keys from his pocket and tossing them in the air. Nadia catches them effortlessly.

"What are you gonna do?" she asks, already knowing the answer.

Sam smiles wryly, tossing the keys again. "We're hunters, Nadia. There's always something to do."

Nadia nods thoughtfully. "Good point. Well, we'll see you later then."

"Wait," Sam says, stopping her just as she's about to leave. "Back when Dean first saw me... doing my thing... and after our fight, we had that case with the Rugaru. I remember you telling me that you envied me for trying to turn my curse into something good."

"Yeah," Nadia says softly, her eyes lowering. "I was empathizing with you. At the time, I was ignoring what I was... stuffing meds down my throat. I looked up to you, I guess. But that doesn't mean I ever agreed with your habit. It's not exorcising demons that's the problem—it's the pieces of you that die every time you drink from Ruby. The demon blood is killing you, Sam. I just... I hope you get help before it's too late."

Sam watches her leave, anger bubbling up from deep within. He throws the salad across the room, frustration and guilt gnawing at him.