The hunt was almost too easy.
That should have been their first clue something was wrong.
They had tracked the two ghouls to an abandoned machine shop within hours. The creatures were so busy feeding on the remains of what was apparently the missing bus driver, judging by the uniform, that they barely looked up before the Winchester brothers decapitated them.
Dean grinned at his brother over the corpses. "I got the first kill, Sammy. Means you're buying tonight."
A door banged open across the building before Sam could answer. Moments later, the smell of sulphur was overwhelming, causing them to cough and their eyes to water.
Sam stepped over the ghoul carcasses as he and Dean moved back to back, years of training and instinct melding them into a wary fighting machine.
Demons. At least a dozen, coming in from all directions.
And because they came in prepared for ghouls, the demon weapons were in the trunk of the Impala.
Sam had Ruby's Knife, only because he always carried it. Dean probably had a flask of holy water in his right boot.
But one blade and a few ounces of liquid weren't going to make much headway against this volume of threat.
Dean raised his machete, while Sam dropped his and drew the serrated blade from his hip.
There was a sound like a whistle of some sort, and all of the demons charged forward. Dean slashed wildly, not doing much more than making them angry, while Sam did manage to kill two demons before four of them piled on him at once, knocking his feet from under him and grappling the knife from his hand. Dean was pulled ten feet away, three demons turning him and forcing him to his knees, facing Sam.
"Get your hands off him!" Dean roared. "You hurt him, I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you!"
The apparent leader, wearing the meatsuit of a muscular, broad-shouldered young man with an 82nd Airborne tattoo, stepped between them.
"We only want him." The demon informed Dean, thumbing toward Sam. "Don't give us any trouble, and we'll let you go."
Sam sighed, knowing that was the worst thing they could have said to Dean.
His older brother managed to sling off one of the demons holding him and wrestled himself free of one of the other two, fighting like a wildcat until another stepped up and dislocated Dean's shoulder, leaving his arm dangling limply by his side. Another kicked him in the chest, breaking ribs with a sickening crunch. One pressed down on Dean's shoulders, leaving the man struggling to breathe due to the pain and the pressure on his chest. Blood dripped from the corner of Dean's mouth.
Sam hoped it was only from a cut, but he was too far away to tell for sure.
The lead demon turned to face the other brother. "Now Sam, we can't just let you close the gates of Hell."
The demon raised his head and took a step backwards. Dean suddenly stopped struggling, his eyes widening as they lifted to look at something behind Sam.
Two of the demons holding Sam in place fell away. Sam turned his head in time to see Cas lay his hands on the other two, smiting them as well.
The angel stepped around Sam, placing his hand on the lead demon, who fell in turn.
The demons holding Dean looked at one another, but did not relinquish their prisoner. The other demons milled around, as if unsure whether to attack or flee.
A shadow began behind Cas, of mighty wings unfurling and extending to their full height and span. The demons began to back away in fright.
Sam realized this was not Cas, their innocent, awkward, tagalong friend. This was Castiel, soldier of Heaven, and he was seriously pissed.
The demons holding Dean loosened their grip enough for the older brother to lean forward. "Sam!" he gasped. "Get down and close your eyes!"
Sam did as he was told, seconds before Castiel's grace apparently went supernova. Sam could feel a sing of power, not quite like a surge of electricity, but not like anything else he could compare it to, and a blanket of warmth dance across his back. The vibrations grew more intense, building to a near scream as Sam clapped his hands over his ears and clenched his eyes more tightly closed. Even so, he could still see light behind his closed eyelids, and could only imagine how blinding that light must be to the demons.
The demons screamed and groaned, and then as suddenly as everything began, the light and sound and vibrations stopped.
Sam felt a trickle of blood against his palm, and realized that at least one of his ear drums had ruptured.
Then a soothing hand was placed on his back, and Cas asked softly "Sam, are you all right?"
Sam raised himself onto his hands, realizing that his ears no longer hurt, and opened his eyes to a building full of dead demons.
He nodded, turning to look at Cas with renewed respect. "See about Dean."
Cas took two steps to the other brother's side, gently raising Dean to a kneeling position despite the man's hisses and cries of pain.
Sam scrambled to his brother's side, as Cas tenderly placed a hand on Dean's cheek and healed him.
Dean raised his hand, restored to movement, and clutched at the angel's sleeve.
"Cas, please don't go." He whispered.
Sam looked up as Cas looked down at Dean, his face reflecting love and longing and regret. "I must, Dean."
Dean looked up with awe and wonder and pleading and his own longing, grasped the angel's wrist with his other hand, trying to hold on literally with both hands, but with a soft flutter of wings, Cas was gone.
"Dammit!" Dean shouted, pitching forward to pound his fist on the floor. "Dammit, Cas!"
He hadn't fallen so quickly that Sam hadn't seen the pain in Dean's eyes, or heard the break in his voice on the angel's name.
Sam laid a hand on his brother's back, waiting for Dean to compose himself enough to get up.
There were two things he had suspected for a while that he now knew for certain.
One, that his brother and an Angel of the Lord were absolutely, completely, head over heels in love with each other.
And two, that both of those self-sacrificing bastards thought they didn't deserve the other one.
Sam had his work cut out for him, and it wasn't just closing the gates of Hell.