A/N: For an anon on tumblr. Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading!

"Everything Ends"

Sam rubbed his chest, still a bit sore from Rowena's blood spell. He'd recover, though. So would Dean, who got it worse in that beating. But it was worth it, since they secured Rowena as an ally. They'd left her in Oregon with her promising to do a spell to help them locate Gabriel, so that was something. At least they now had a decent plan.

Sam pulled out his cell and checked one of the apps. He let out another breath of relief. "Cas's phone is back on Earth."

Dean immediately perked up at the news. "How far out is he?"

Sam checked the GPS coordinates. "He's in town." He made the map bigger and squinted. "Uh, looks like he stopped at the liquor store."

Dean's mouth quirked. "Good. Saves me from having to make a run."

Sam rolled his eyes. His brother always did prefer his ice packs served with beer.

It was another hour before they rolled into Lebanon. Sam kept fiddling with his phone. It was probably too soon to hear from Rowena. He vaguely wondered why Cas hadn't texted to let them know he'd made it back safely, especially since he knew how worried Dean had been about him going upstairs. Idly, Sam checked the GPS again, and frowned when he saw that Cas's phone hadn't moved from its previous location.

A trickle of trepidation wormed through Sam's gut. "Uh, Cas's phone is still transmitting from the liquor store."

Dean glanced over, brow furrowing. "What?"

"Maybe he accidentally left it there?"

Dean's expression darkened. "We can swing by and check."

He didn't say he was worried, but he didn't have to. Sam could see it. After all, it wasn't that long ago Cas had gone dark at a bar, and when the Winchesters had arrived, they'd found the place trashed with demons lying in wait. They'd let themselves be fooled once that Cas was okay; they weren't making the same mistake twice. Asmodeus was dead, but there were other enemies out there. Which was the only reason Sam didn't just try calling Cas right then. Besides, they were close.

Dean pulled the Impala into the small lot of the liquor store. The car Sam had last seen Cas using was sitting right out front, and Dean parked next to it. Sam tried to keep himself from panicking just yet, though he noticed both him and Dean had their hands drifting toward their concealed weapons as they got out of the car and approached the door. The "Closed" sign was up, which was unusual for this hour.

Sam exchanged a tense look with Dean before pulling at the handle. Despite the sign, the door wasn't locked. They ventured inside.

Sam's gaze immediately snapped to where the store clerk was slumped on the ground in front of the register counter. There wasn't any blood, and Dean knelt down to check the guy's pulse. He gave Sam a clipped nod to indicate the dude was alive.

Clinking glass sounded from the back of the store and Dean straightened, posture coiled. With another shared look, the two of them crept down one of the aisles. Sam furrowed his brow at the liquor bottles strewn across the floor, about a few dozen or so. They looked empty.

He and Dean rounded the corner, and pulled up short in stupefaction at the sight of Cas sitting on the floor, one leg drawn up and an arm resting on his knee, a bottle of vodka dangling in his hand. There were seven more scattered around him. He didn't seem to even register their arrival, and lifted the bottle to take a swig.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean blurted.

Cas lolled his head up toward them, blinking dazedly for a moment before returning his gaze to his lap. "What does it look like?" he said roughly.

Sam gaped at him. Cas had partaken of beers with them before, but had always said they did nothing for him. This didn't look like nothing.

"Are you drunk?" Sam sputtered.

"Not completely." Cas took another drag. "Yet."

Sam's brows shot up further, and he flicked a bewildered look at his brother.

Dean was frowning at Cas. "Your trip to Heaven go that well, huh?"

Cas let out a derisive snort and knocked back another swig. "The angels can't help us. They can't even help themselves."

Sam quirked a confused look at him. "What does that mean?"

"It means Heaven is dying," Cas growled. He pushed himself to his feet with effort, swaying and then catching his balance against the refrigerator doors. "There are nine angels left in all of Creation."

Sam's jaw slackened. Wait, what?

"Nine?" Dean repeated dubiously. "What, as in—"

"As in one less than ten and one more than eight," Cas snapped. He sagged against the fridge door, expression crumpling. "I'm a member of an endangered species."

Sam was having trouble processing that. Nine angels left…anywhere? "How is that possible?" he breathed.

"Well, when I took in the Purgatory souls, I decimated about half of my own kind," Cas said scathingly. But for all the vitriol in his tone, Sam could tell it was completely directed inward. "And then there was the Fall that killed dozens more, and the faction war."

"Whoa," Dean interjected. "Those last two weren't your fault."

Cas's eyes flashed darkly. "Of course they were. I trusted Metatron. He used my grace to cast the angels out. My brothers and sisters were lost and confused and scared."

"That doesn't justify them murdering each other," Dean countered.

"Yes, well, I was told they learned it from me." Cas's shoulders slumped, and he started to slide down to the floor again.

Sam just stood there, unsure what to do. The only other time he'd seen Cas this hammered was way back in the first Apocalypse days. Cas had been a surly drunk then. This time he seemed slightly more unhinged.

"I'm sorry, Cas," Sam offered. "Is there anything that can be done?"

"Gabriel might be able to help," he said bitterly. "Though we've seen how reliable he is. And we need his grace to get Jack and Mary back, so even if by some miracle he decides to help us with that, he won't exactly be strong enough to keep Heaven from collapsing and all the souls being thrown down to Earth."

Sam's brows flew upward. What? Shit…like they didn't have enough to deal with.

Dean shook his head. "Okay, well, getting hammered isn't gonna help things, either."

"It's never stopped you," Cas muttered.

Dean rolled his eyes and stepped forward, reaching for the vodka. "Look, Rowena's gonna help us track down Gabriel, so we need you sober, man."

Cas jerked the bottle out of reach and staggered to his feet again. "Leave me alone," he snapped. "What are you even doing here?"

Dean huffed. "We were worried about you. For good reason." He gestured at Cas's drunken countenance.

"You're the last person who should be passing judgement," Cas retorted, and started to knock back another swig, but Dean stepped in and grabbed the bottle.

"I know from experience that this doesn't help as much as you think it will."

Cas tried to yank the bottle back. "I'm not limited by mortal constitution, so I'm fairly certain that I can eventually get there." He glowered at Dean, who didn't back down. The air almost seemed to crackle between them as they engaged in a silent tug of war over the bottle.

"Cas," Sam put in, hoping to diffuse things. "We'll help you figure out how to save Heaven. I mean, Gabriel's grace can recharge. There's gotta be a way to save both Mom and Jack, and then you and Gabriel can go upstairs to fix things there."

"I can't go back to Heaven."

Sam frowned.

"Wait, those asshats aren't blaming you for this, are they?" Dean demanded.

Cas averted his gaze. "No. Not- not directly. I don't know."

Sam's mouth turned down further at the slight tremor in Cas's voice. He knew the angel well enough to recognize when he was uncertain and when he was guilt-ridden. Neither of those quite fit the sense Sam was getting at this moment.

"Cas, what exactly happened when you were up there?" he pressed.

Cas relinquished the vodka bottle to Dean and staggered away from them. "Please just leave me alone," he said quietly.

"Not a chance in hell," Dean growled. He set the bottle on a shelf and closed the distance Cas had put between them. "What happened?"

Cas squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. "Naomi's alive," he whispered. "She's up there, running things again."

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before his eyes widened. "Wait, Naomi the bitch who was controlling you after Purgatory?"

Cas flinched at the words.

Sam mentally reeled back. Shit, no wonder Cas wanted to get as drunk as possible. Finding out one's tormentor was alive and out there…it shattered every sense of security and stability one had. Sam knew that all too well from when he'd discovered Lucifer had gotten out of the Cage—twice. It still terrified him, knowing the Devil was out in the world somewhere, that if Lucifer found him, he could hurt Sam in all the ways he knew and feared.

Dean reached out and grasped Cas's arm fervently. "Did she hurt you?"

Cas shook his head. "She didn't do anything to me."

Sam's heart clenched. Not this time. But because she was content to toy with Cas, or because he'd gotten away?

"She told me about Heaven, how they need Gabriel. I…I wanted to kill her," Cas said brokenly. "I wanted to kill her, but I can't, because Heaven is dying and if it loses even one angel, that could be the end." He let out a reproachful sound. "And I will once again be responsible for destroying everything."

"We won't let that happen," Sam immediately said. "We'll figure it out, just like we figure everything else out."

"Yes, because we do such a good job at that," Cas muttered.

"Yeah, but we try," Dean rejoined. "And that's always been enough. No matter what comes after."

Cas dropped his gaze. "Everything ends eventually," he said solemnly. And with that, the last of the fight seemed to drain out of him, and he sagged.

Dean moved in to grip his arm more firmly. "Come on, let's get you home."

Cas didn't put up a fuss as Dean started to guide him down the aisle. Sam stepped in to brace Cas's other elbow when it was clear he couldn't walk in a straight line. They got him out to the Impala and laid him down in the backseat.

Dean walked around the car, but stopped at the driver's side door. Sam paused with his hand on the passenger handle.

"Dean?"

His brother gave himself a small shake. "How many times do we have to fight the same bad guys?"

Sam swallowed. "I don't know."

Dean shook his head in clear frustration. "Some things never end," he muttered, and climbed in behind the wheel.

Sam glanced into the backseat where Cas was laid out in a drunken stupor. No, everything came to an end at some point. Someday, they would have saved the world without having to save it again from some major fallout. Someday, there would be peace when they are done. That's what Sam had to keep holding onto in order to keep fighting.

Everything ends. But sometimes it's to make room for something better.