Never before had Castiel hated the limitation of his kind. Before, he had enjoyed the fact that they were set apart from demons by the requirement of their vessels' consent; by the fact they did not simply take what they wanted. Now, though, he was helpless; unable to act as one of his brothers held Sam hostage. Now, he and Dean were relying on Crowley, of all beings. It was a situation he found wholly unacceptable, no matter how much the demon prided himself on keeping his word.

Dean was stationary, completely still, his expression like stone. It was unnatural.

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"If, you know, you ever need to…" Dean's voice was tight, the gesture he made towards the immobile body that currently housed Sam, Gadreel and Crowley terse. Helplessness and frustration radiated from him as he slowly looked away from them to Castiel.

"You know my answer would be 'yes', right?"

Castiel found that he genuinely didn't know what to say to that. The sharp edge to his emotions had faded slightly when he had stolen Theo's grace, but he was still able to feel things much more strongly than he used to. That Dean Winchester, the man for whom he had given up everything, was willing to do that for him, to give himself to Castiel, was too much. Dean had turned down an archangel, so proud he was of his free will. Castiel had lied, had betrayed Dean, had tried to take Sam from Dean just to distract him, had almost killed them both several times over, and still Dean would trust Castiel with his body?

"Hey, what's this?"

Dean reached out and swept his thumbs just under Castiel's eyes gently. Each one caught a sparking teardrop, which he wiped on his jeans almost absently. Castiel hadn't even realised he was crying.

"It's not that big a deal," he continued, a gentle smile creasing the corners of his eyes.

Castiel swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Yes, it is," he said, his voice oddly constricted. "The trust…"

Dean slouched back against the wall and waved his hand dismissively. "It's you, Cas, and I should have said it a long time ago. Seriously, if you ever need to, none of this asking bullshit, right? You come straight in. And no more chick flick moments: we've talked about this."

Castiel felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a tiny smile. It was a familiar statement from Dean, but…

"I still have not seen a 'chick flick'," he pointed out.

Despite the tension in the room, despite the dead body sitting in front of them, opposite their battling brothers, Dean smiled properly and gave a huff of laughter. "One day, I'll show you one. Just so you know what we're talking about. What the fuck is taking so long?"

This was more familiar ground; talking about real, tangible things they could fight and potentially kill. Or, at least, they were tangible to Castiel: Gadreel's true form was likely a little less 'tangible' than Dean would like.

"I imagine that, even with Crowley's assistance, ejecting an angel is not the easiest of tasks. I expect that Sam will prevail, though, given his history."

The sudden, haunted look in Dean's eyes told Castiel that the young human had followed his train of thought. Neither of them had found it easy to see Lucifer in Sam's body, but Sam had ultimately won that battle and he would win this one too. He had to. The alternative was simply unacceptable.