Chapter 1
The blood was still dripping down his face. It rimmed his eyes and slid down his checks to his scruff covered jaw. The once white collar of his shirt was now a dark brown from the drying blood, thick and stiff against his neck. The stain was starting to spread further down, past his shoulders to his chest.
The blood unnerved Sam at this point. Two months of watching his friend shake and rage in the dungeon and the blood still rattled his core. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that it seemed never ending or the fact that Castiel was completely oblivious to it.
"We're looking into it, Cas." Sam said, forcing confidence. "Dean thinks he's got it. We'll have this taken care of soon." Castiel didn't seem to hear the words. He raged, striking out at the magic that bound him. The force should have hurt him, but he didn't slow or stop. The attack-dog curse Rowena had placed on him had turned him near rabid. That rabid need to get through the angel warding to bring Sam down was all that kept Castiel from realizing that the words Sam said were the same the Winchesters had been saying for 2 months.
When they'd arrived home from the Doppelganger hunt in California, they'd found Cas standing in the bunker, blood dripping from his eyes and coating his hands. He had been lucid for a few minutes. Enough to ask for help before he lost himself to the curse again. He ran up the stairs to where the hunters stood. He'd lost the fight, but not by enough. Both brothers were sporting bleeding cuts, black eyes, and bruises. It didn't faze them, it never really did. They took the subdued Angel down to the basement dungeon and placed him inside a devil's trap painted on the floor. Sam spent an hour painting Enochian warding around the devil's trap making it function as both a Demon's trap and an Angel trap.
Then it was to the library. They'd scoured books, files, and video of the Men of Letters. There was nothing. None of the witch files or spell books even scratched the surface of what was needed to help Castiel come back to himself. If he'd been human, he'd have died within hours of the spell, but the Angel grace in him kept him moving. Sam hated to see it, and Dean refused. He'd started avoiding the basement within days of Castiel being kept there. Sam had watched him pour over books until his frustration forced him out continue the quest for Rowena, the only witch who seemed to know this spell.
Sam could only watch the rampaging image of his friend for a few more minutes.
"I'll be back, Cas. Hang in there." He said with a furrowed brow before heading out. Dungeon door closed with a whoosh of air and heavy clunk that Sam felt in the pit of his stomach. Closing his eyes, Sam took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. He gathered his resolve, using it to set his shoulders back and his jaw tight before heading back to the library.