Sometimes you read things in other people's stories, and while you respect their opinions, you do not necessarily agree with them... and that is what inspired this little piece. So I guess you could say I wrote this to console myself. Now I feel better :) And I hope you'll like it too, and if not, than at least respect my opinion. And reviewing is always good, too! :) Thanks Red for the quick beta.

Disclaimer: All I can say is IF I did own'em, Dean would have never gone to Hell and Sam would smile more often.

Angel to Angel

On Christmas Day two angels watched two men. The shorter of the two was fussing about the amount of the snow that had fallen on his ‘baby’ overnight, while the taller one was watching the other with unabashed amusement, tossing an odd comment in here and there, seemingly just to rile the other up.

“I don’t understand,” the darker of the angels, Uriel, admitted, his face was darkened with more than the color of his skin, “he is an abomination. Why the subterfuge? Why not just dispose of him and be done with it?”

“His brother has been given a second chance to save him.” The other angel’s voice was patient, but toneless.

“A second chance to save a devil, Castiel?” Uriel snorted. “It makes no sense. He is tainted.”

“As are all men,” Castiel spoke softly, “but he is no devil, he is loved too fiercely to be such.”

“Lucifer is loved,” the other angel pointed out as he watched the taller of the two men toss a snowball at the newly cleaned car. The aim was deliberately low to avoid damage but the effect on the other man was immediate. It was a good thing the taller man had such long legs, it gave him benefit when running in the snow.

“Do not compare Sam Winchester to Lucifer.” It was perhaps as strong a warning as Castiel could give. “The devil is loved, yes, but he does not love back.”

Uriel snorted and watched as the shorter man caught up and pulled the other down. The two men scrabbled in the snow, wrestling in a fury of long limbs and a leather jacket.

“Our Father is not interested in blood, Uriel,” Castiel continued, “but in the choices that are made… and the reasons behind them.”

“Which is why we need to finish him now!” the other angel persisted. “His choices are not good. Sam Winchester needs to be put down before he can become the darkness he is meant to be.”

Castiel turned his attention away from the men and looked at his companion. “That is not our decision to make. Our Father has faith that the boy can be saved, that his heart is good.” His eyes sought out the shorter man who had come out on top and was now taking great joy in rubbing the other’s face in the snow. “And I have faith he can be too.”

“You put too much trust in Dean Winchester,” Uriel followed his gaze.

“Maybe,” Castiel admitted, then shrugged, “But I have been told to… Just as you have been.” He gave the other angel a pointed look.

Uriel held the gaze, then shook his head, “His life is for nothing.”

“No, Uriel,” he denied, “not for nothing.”

“I wasn’t talking about Dean…”

Castiel watched the Winchester brothers as Sam finally hollered ‘uncle’ and Dean pulled him out of the snow. He kept a firm grip on his brother’s arm as Sam leaned over to brush himself off, then smacked the younger man on his back and grinned widely as they walked back towards the car. The angel tried to imagine a world in which Sam Winchester had never been born but knew in such a place he’d never recognize Dean. They had shaped each other as much as the world around them.

“Neither was I.”

And then they were gone, two puffs in the air, unnoticed and unmissed.

The End