*I had some inspiration from the Divine series, which stars our very own Misha Collins.

Castiel whether in madness or pride or under a lack of guidance- died. He was lost and friendless in his final moments. Risen by some unknown force, Castiel lost memory of everything except the knowledge that there was a debt to pay. He was rescued by a local deacon and called Emanuel. Working as a hunter and healer, Emanuel takes on the pain and sickness of others. He will either find the redemption he so desperately seeks or be forever damned. Two familiar hunters may help him, in the case that his sins were not too bloody to earn once more the trust that was broken on both sides.

-Gaperganstah

"And You Shall Call him Emanuel"

"Thou hast redeemed us, O lord, in Thy blood. And made us, for our God, a kingdom."

Death was a blessing. His blood poured out red and hot. He counted the drops until they burst forth in a wave from broken skin. The leather cut deep. One. Two. Three. Once he drowned. He could still remember how it felt to swallow the lake water in until his lungs ripped apart. His body was tired of healing itself. A snap of fingers and he was nothing but blood and the quiet peace he longer for. Silence. Nothing. Moments later he found himself aware again. He had been reborn but he must have lost something. God forgot to give him back something very important. He couldn't name what it was but it seemed that a few marbles had gotten lost down the drain.

Rebirth. He saw it happen all the time for humanity. A new dawn and a new day. A fresh start. So many ways to say the same thing. Why couldn't he have the same clean slate? Redemption was far away and the God he loved silent. The leather cut deep. He would be pure once more. He would forget and lose the evil within him until it bled out entirely. Emanuel hoped that he hadn't been too late. He prayed that by the time he flayed through rotten blackness into the core of his heart something would remain. He prayed that there was something left to save.

.

"So Sammy boy, what are you sharing with the class for snack time?"

Sam looked peeved. "Back off Dean. You wouldn't like it." Sam stirred a spoon in his parfait as Dean rolled his eyes.

"Of course. We go to McDonalds and the bitch picks out the only thing with real fruit. You are what you eat."

Sam looked pinched as his older brother's green eyes flashed a smile. He had been cheerful the past months. Disgustingly so. It was Dean's way of practically screaming that he wasn't okay. "Dude, shut up and eat your food. I need to get to the station to pull those files."

"Nerd." Dean stuffed a bite of the burger in his mouth looking disgusted. "This place sucks and the burgers literally look like shit."

Sam glanced over. "Put some ketchup on it."

Dean grinned. "The only vegetable I will ever like."

"Fruit."

"What?" Dean smothered his burger in ketchup.

"Tomatoes. They are fruits not vegetables."

The older Winchester stretched with a grin. "You would remember that. Your hero was a Fruitarian, right? Gandhi the melon muncher."

"Drop it." Sam pulled a bitch face.

"Haha alright Sammy. Cool your balls."

"That's it Dean. Drop me off at the station now. This thing is mostly sugar anyway." Sam tossed his half eaten lunch into the trash.

"But I'm not done eating!" Dean dragged his feet until Sam snatched the keys to the Impala out of his pocket.

"Dean. Get in the car. Now."

Dean gave him a shit eating grin. "Oooh so forceful. I like it Sammy."

"Don't." Sam marched ahead and Dean had to speed up after his long-legged little brother. He snatched back the keys before unlocking the front door. "Dean? Could you open the trunk for me? I need my laptop."

"Say please and you might get somewhere."

Sam huffed. "Please."

"Since when have you been the crabby one, huh? I thought that was my job. Not like you weren't always a bitch…"

"I don't know Dean. We lost Cas. You are walking around like nothing happened with that fake grin on your face…and I can't take it. Look, just talk to me Dean!"

If Sam wanted Dean to stop smiling, he got his wish. Dean's eyes darkened as he rested his hand on the trunk. "I'm doing the best I fucking can Sam. What do you want? Tears? I can't cry anymore. I don't think I even have any waterworks left. What Cas did…and now he's dead. He's dead and Bobby's dead and if I sit around thinking about all the people dead on my watch and talking about it I'm going to go fucking nutty. So shut your pie hole and leave me alone."

Sam nodded. "Look Dean, I get it."

"No you don't." Dean muttered to himself, barely out of Sam's ear shot. He noticed Sam's stricken look. He softened his tone. "Get in the car; I'll grab your computer."

"Thanks Dean."

Sam folded his long legs into the passenger side of the Impala as Dean took in a deep breath. He rubbed a hand tiredly across his eyes. Oh yeah. Sammy's laptop. He unlocked the trunk with trepidation, knowing what else resided inside. Castiel's dirty trench coat lay folded neatly in the corner. He hadn't washed it. Old blood smeared into creases and mud twisted into the fabric itself. Dean fussed with the collar briefly. He heard the car door open and nearly jumped before quickly pulling out the laptop. He slammed the trunk shut as Sam quietly shut his own door. They drove in silence.

Dean dropped his brother off at the station. Sam fixed his tie and stepped out of the Impala into the gray day. Drops stuttered on the windshield and rushed to melt into still warm asphalt and concrete. Sam hurried across the road to the station and his shiny black shoes barely missed a growing puddle.

"I'll pick you up in a few hours Sweetie, call me!"

Sam gave Dean the finger and carefully shut the door behind him. Dean sat quietly in the car for a moment, listening to the engine rumble lightly. He drove to the motel they were currently staying in and leaned against the Impala. He unlocked the trunk and pulled out the trench coat, eyes darting to the side. He ashamedly held the coat to his chest and hurried under the roofing above the sidewalk. A key fit easily into the door. He barely waited for the click before stumbling into the room and gently placing the trench coat on the bed. The mini bar was nearly empty and Dean sighed at its contents. Cheap wines. Tequila? Damn he was screwed. He needed that drink and a tiny bottle of tequila wasn't going to cut it. Dean moved over to the bed and crawled into the corner against the cool wall. Goosebumps rose up on his skin and he pulled the coat over his body.

Blue eyes. He began to dream of blue eyes. He felt calm. In his sleep Dean absently pulled the coat closer around him and in his dream it was Cas that was gently tugged closer. Cas smiled sadly. Dean wondered why.

"Cas?"The angel tilted his head to the side questioningly, the strange smile remaining. He didn't respond.

"Cas." Dean planted a kiss on messy brown hair and trapped smaller hands within his own. He ran a thumb over the soft skin. "Your hands are cold."

Castiel smiled lightly at Dean as he began to grow paler. He shivered and Dean looked into his deep blue eyes. "What's wrong? Cas. Tell me what's wrong, this time…this time I'm listening."

Relief spread through the angel's face and he gripped Dean's hands tightly. He opened his mouth to speak and took in a heaving breath, eyes wide. He backed up against the wall as his lips began to go blue and darkness creased under his eyes. His slender hands clutched at his throat.

"Cas! Cas stay with me damn it, Cas please stay with me!" Dean pulled the angel against his chest as he felt his icy body go still in his arms. Water soaked through the trench coat and dark hair was plastered to Castiel's pale forehead. "Cas-"

Dean felt himself wrenched back into the dingy hotel room. He clutched at the trench coat desperately as a chill racked through his body. Rain pelted at the window but Dean could still hear the frantic beating of his own heart. He didn't stop the tears this time. They ran down his face and he choked on sobs as sat with his legs dangling off the bed, the coat in his arms. The dream had returned. Castiel. Dean would spend nights living in dreams that would never come true.

Castiel would come to him, beautiful and vibrant. Dean would try to reach out to him, to get the angel to talk to him. He would welcome any word from Cas. But he remained silent. Every dream Dean would kiss his soft mouth and run his hands over a body that did not protest to his touch. He whispered apologies. He whispered words of love. Castiel would give him that small smile before the nightmare forced him to the ground only to suffocate in Dean's arms. The phone rang and Dean answered it tiredly.

"Yeah?"

"Dean, it's me. Come pick me up, I found us a case."

Dean ran a hand over his stubble dotted jaw. "Okay Sammy. But aren't we on a case right now?"

"Yeah Dean, which I was researching. What were you up to?" Silence. Sam waited until he realized that Dean was simply pining for his angel. He hadn't slept much of late; Sam hoped he hadn't woken his brother up. Dean's voice was thick with something that could either be exhaustion or grief. "Never mind Dean-"

"It's okay Sammy. I'll get back in gear." Dean tried to clear any trace of emotion from his throat.

"Look man, maybe you need a break from all this. Hunting?" Sam shook his head. "Dean we don't get to be happy in this sort of life. Step out of it for a while…I think you need to stop all of this for a while."

Dean sat tiredly on the bed. "Sammy, you know me better than that. I don't know how to be normal anymore."

"You never did. Since when have you ever been normal?"

Dean chuckled. "You too bitch. Alright. I'm on my way. Brief me in on the way back."

Sam hurried through the rain as it pelted his hair. Dean tried not to laugh as his too tall brother nearly biffed it in a mud puddle. He locked the car. Sam ran over and yanked on the cold handle. "Open the door Dean!"

Dean pretended not to hear him. He looked puzzled for a moment until his gaze met up with one of Sam's rarer forms of bitch face. This one could almost kill. Dean unlocked the door. "You look like a soggy puppy dog."

"Yeah and you look like an asshole." Sam slammed the car door. Dean grinned at Sam but his brother saw the effort behind his bared teeth. "Or a shark."

Dean pulled the Impala away from the sidewalk and turned onto the road. He pushed a new cassette into the player as he glanced over at his brother. "So?"

"So what?"

"What was so important that you wanted to come home without me dragging you out of there? Did you spend that whole time at the station?"

"No, there was a library."

Dean itched at his nose. "What did you forget your library card?"

"No. One of Bobby's old friends called."

"Yeah? What did he want? Is he reading up on the town history for us?"

Sam shook his head. "He's gotten some weird messages from hunters around the area."

"Weird? Aren't all messages from hunters weird? If you ask me, they are some freaky sons of bitches."

"It's about this new hunter."

Dean grimaced. "If this is about Garth I don't want to hear about it. That big-eared kid takes a shit on my nerves every time I see him."

"His name is Emanuel." Sam turned down the radio.

Dean leaned over and turned the volume back up. "Isn't that Jesus' fancy name?"

"I'm surprised you got that. Yeah. Emanuel, it means "God is with us."

Dean snorted. "Well he isn't. God exited the building long before our sorry asses showed up on this planet."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Focus Dean. This Emanuel is a healer. Bobby's buddy has eye witness accounts that he healed a blind guy."

"So it's probably someone messing with reapers again."

"Maybe."

Dean stared at Sam for a moment before fixing his eyes on the road once more. "Aww damn it Sam. You aren't believing this, are you?"

"I don't Know Dean. Look, we've seen strange stuff. Maybe this Emanuel is just an angel or something."

The air went cold in the Impala. Dean stared ahead, eyes dark and hurt. "Since when have we known an angel to be anything but a cold hearted son of a bitch? They don't just go around healing people. And we don't know any angel named Emanuel."

"Alright!" Sam put up his hands in defense. "I get it Dean. Can we at least check this guy out? Who knows… he may be able to real thing."

Dean nodded. "How's your noggin, by the way?"

"I'm okay Dean."

"You're not. Don't lie to me about this again Sammy."

Sam shrugged. "He's still there. It's not all the time. Sometimes I am back in control and other times I hear him in the back of mind."

"Well, we will check out this Emanuel. He fixes you and my hat's off to the guy. Where's he at?"

Sam eyed Dean. "He lived near the warehouse where we opened Purgatory."

"Great. So he's probably a monster."

Sam was relieved that the subject of Castiel dying in the lake next to the warehouse was ignored for the moment. "He could be. Let's just give him a chance before we decide anything."

Dean nodded slowly. "Tell Satan to shut his pie-hole until we kick his ass out."

"Okay Dean." Sam smiled and shook his head. He hoped that Emanuel could cure the two of them. Dean's heart and his mind. It was time to take the yellow brick road and see if the wizard had real magic up his sleeves.

They took a detour to grab a quick dinner before the engine softened into a purr in front of an old looking church. The steps were chipped and the roof looked seconds away from collapsing. Stained glass peeked out of dust and grime ate its way through once fine craftsmanship.

Sam stepped out of the Impala and glanced around. "Place looks creepy."

"Nah, just old. "

Sam pulled out flash lights from the trunk and passed them around. "What is Emanuel doing here? The place looks dark and like it hasn't been used in years. "

Sam looked pinched. "Are you sure he's here?"

"Buddy of Bobby's says he saw him go in there before. He was keeping tabs on the guy. I guess he's in there every Saturday night."

"Wonderful. See Sammy, I knew the son of a bitch was some kind of nut job!"

"Calm down Dean. We haven't even met him."

Dean shrugged, pistol in hand. "Sammy, you got the holy water?"

"Yeah."

They walked up the steps and formed a single file line through the creaky wooden doors. The building smelled musty. It was just as worn in the inside but a hint of beauty still remained. Sam looked impressed at the heavily lacquered ceiling as Dean glanced around each pew suspiciously.

Dean wandered down the center row and let his hand trail over the pews. He remembered sitting in one of them with his mother and father on Sundays as he and Sammy ran Hot Wheels cars over the seats. The bibles tucked in the pockets once supported the artistic designs of the brothers to keep them from tearing the paper. The door opened behind them and Sam pushed Dean down behind a pew. They hid under to rotten wood as quiet footsteps echoed. Dean risked a glance.

The man was covered in blood. Gashes bit out pale flesh and red pooled at the man's feet. His head was bowed and he stumbled and fell. A sob caught in his throat as he half crawled towards the altar. He raised his head and Dean nearly cried out. Blue eyes. Messy dark hair and a full, unsmiling mouth had haunted Dean's dreams for weeks. There he was. Castiel.

His old friend raised himself up and he filled a chalice with wine as red as his own blood. A metal cross was clasped in his shaking hand as he sunk down in front of the altar. He smeared blood across his and marked a single red line next to rows of others. His voice was hoarse and his words barely came out in a whisper.

"O Lord, my iniquities have overwhelmed me; they are like a heavy burden, beyond my strength. Noisome and festering are my sores, because of my folly. Turn your gaze from me that I may find respite, ere I depart and be no more."

He bowed his head and a pale hand clasped the chalice. "The blood of Christ…forgive me…" he began to shiver and slumped over. Dean was there the moment he fell.

"Cas, Cas hang in there." Blue eyes looked questioningly at Dean.

"The cup…"

Dean held him awkwardly for a moment looking frantically about him. "I don't know what you mean…"

"Please." Blood soaked them both to the skin.

"I-I don't-"

"Out of the way Dean!" Sam shoved Dean aside and forced the chalice against a bloody mouth. "Drink it up…erm…the blood of Christ." Sam dug around the altar and found bread. He ripped off a chunk. "The body of Christ."

He forced down a small piece until it was coughed back up. Sam tried again and covered the angel's mouth. Castiel flailed against Sam. His hands gripped weakly onto the larger man's shirt as he began to calm down. He shuddered. The brothers looked in a mixture of horror and awe as the bloody lacerations began to close.

"Cas? Why didn't you just mojo yourself back together?"

Dean swallowed and watched for the familiar curious head tilt. Yup, there it was. "I don't understand. Who is it you are speaking of?"

"Cas. Oh damn it. Jimmy is that you?"

There it was again. "Jimmy?"

Sam knelt by him and helped him up. "Erm…Emanuel?"

The brunette nodded slowly. "Yes, I have taken on that name."

"Cut the crap Cas. What is with all this? A new start?"

Cas, or Emanuel smiled softly. "I believe so. I must have survived some sort of ordeal a few miles from here. It is unclear how, but I found myself wandering near the lake…unclothed and without memory of who I was."

"So who named you Emanuel?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes and looked thoughtful. " ." He shrugged. "The deacon of the church found me. He brought me back to health through holy sacrament."

"Like what just happened? Did your holly roller buddy also tell you how you magically heal yourself and other people. Did he tell you about what you really are?"

Cas smiled. "Magic? I do not believe so. I know that I am a sinner. I do not know what I have done, but my dreams tell me that I deserve the punishment. I do not heal the sick. I take on their ailments upon myself instead."

"So some poor bastard got attacked by Freddy Kruger?"

"Attacked by whom?"

Dean sighed. "It seems that you are still behind on your movie collection."

"We know each other?" Castiel looked at Dean, puzzled.

"Never mind that now. Who hurt you?"

Castiel tugged on a loose piece of carpet on the altar steps. "I did. By sinning I make atonements for what I have done. I cannot die as long as I return here before midnight of the Sabbath. I carry other's burdens until I am healed to begin again."

"Wow. Look, we need to find a way to get you out of here." Sam glanced at Dean. "Maybe he's stuck in a time loop? Like when Gabriel pulled that on us?"

"Gabriel? The archangel?" Castiel seemed bemused.

Dean led him away from the altar. "It's a long story Cas."

"Cas? That is a strange name." Dean placed a hand between his shoulder blades.

"Let's get you cleaned up and get you some new clothes. You still look pretty rough." Castiel nodded and by the look on Dean's face he wanted to both strangle and kiss the angel.

Sam eyed his brother. "Ready Dean?"

Dean nodded. "Cas?"

Castiel opened his mouth to respond when a man came running into the room, his hair a mess and worry distorting a handsome face. "Please, Emanuel?" Castiel nodded slowly to him. "I need help, it's my daughter, she's dying."

"Of course. Excuse me, I thank you for your help." He nodded to Dean and began to follow the man.

Dean gripped his hand. "No you don't Cas. "This time, we are doing this together."