NOTE: Castiel has broken the wall between Sam and his memories of the Cage, released the Leviathans, and promptly gone missing with no idea of who/what he really is. Dean finds Cas, who regains his memories, and they rush to save Sam who is being driven mad by his hallucinations of Lucifer. Instead of saving Sam by taking the hallucinations into himself, Cas works to find another way to save his friend, and in the process finds out more about himself and Sam's time in the Cage than he ever wanted to know.
IMPORTANT: Stretches the M rating to breaking point. Mentions of rape, torture and suicide. I've tried to tone it down as much as possible, but if you're worried, please don't read!
Chapter 1:
"He's in real trouble, Cas. It's so fucking bad. I don't know how much longer he can hold on," Dean glanced at the angel slumped in the passenger seat of the Impala, but not for more than a second because his foot was pressing the accelerator as far to the floor as it would go.
"Cas?" Dean asked sharply when the angel didn't immediately reply. Cas had been mostly silent since he'd regained his memories, probably wallowing in guilt for murdering half of Heaven, unleashing the Leviathans on the world and, oh yeah, destroying his brother's mind!
"You don't need to worry Dean. I will do everything in my power to restore your brother," Cas said softly, still staring out the window.
"Damn right you will," Dean muttered into the steering wheel. He felt Cas shrink down a bit more in his seat, but couldn't bring himself to care. He hoped Cas felt guilty. Damn guilty. He hoped the angel wallowed in his guilt until he drowned in it, as long as it didn't interfere with healing his brother. He glanced down at the speedo for the thousandth time, willing his baby to go as fast as she could. When he'd left Sam at the motel to find the 'faith healer' who had turned out to be Cas things had been, well, grim. His fingers flexed around the steering wheel.
Just hold on a bit longer Sammy, just a little bit longer.
Castiel sat in the passenger seat of the Impala as Dean explained for the thousandth time about Sam and what he needed the angel to do, as if worried Cas would refuse to help or would disappear without warning. He couldn't blame Dean, after what he'd put them all through it was a wonder the hunter hadn't killed him on the spot. Cas knew he would do whatever the brothers asked, it didn't matter what it was. If Dean or Sam needed him to walk through the fires of Hell itself he would do so, he owed them that much and more.
Cas felt for his angelic powers and sensed his wings rustle in response. Another failure, he hadn't regained his memory until Dean had pulled up at a gas station, and by that point they were so close to the motel it would have been pointless to fly them there. He slumped further against the window, the cool glass a soothing contrast to the turmoil in his mind. He'd had a lot to process since Dean had found him, but none of that mattered just now because Sam needed him. Needed him because Castiel had destroyed him, had broken the wall between Sam and the memories of his century in the Cage.
Castiel shuddered, sick with shame, and pulled his coat a little tighter around him. He'd been both touched and saddened that Dean had kept it, aware that he didn't deserve the love and concern that such an action signified.
Sam hadn't answered his phone since before Dean found Cas, so by the time they pulled up at the motel Dean was a nervous wreck and Cas wasn't much better. Without a word they got out and Dean hurried to the door, hesitating for just a moment before slotting the key in the lock. Cas trailed behind, he could tell that Dean was scared of what he would find on the other side of the door, which said more than words ever could about the deterioration of Sam's condition. Cas steeled himself as Dean took a deep breath, pushed the door open and walked inside.
Sam looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, a smile of greeting plastered on a face that was shockingly gaunt, and so pale that the only color belonged to his bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes. His hair was lank and greasy and tremors ran up and down his body like little electrical shocks. Even though Dean had prepared him Cas was still shocked at the pitiful sight the youngest Winchester made. He hesitantly moved into the room, unsure of his welcome.
When Sam saw Cas his eyes widened with shock, and terror ghosted across his face, so quickly that the angel wasn't sure he'd seen it at all.
"Hello Sam," Cas said awkwardly, then added unnecessarily, "It's me."
Sam's reaction to those four simple words was complete and utter disbelief.
"No." he said simply, and turned away.
Cas felt the rejection like a blow.
"Sam…" he started, walking further into the room. "I'm so sorry Sam. So very, very sorry." He was shocked to see a tear slide slowly down Sam's cheek at those words, as the broken man began to shake like he would shatter into a thousand pieces. "Oh Sam, what have I done to you?"
Dean reached out to Sam but he flinched back so violently it was as if the hunter had hurled a high voltage wire at his brother instead of offering comfort. Dean drew his hand back like it had been burned and shoved his hands in his pockets for good measure.
"It's ok Sam, we're going to help," Cas said as gently as possible.
Sam shook his head mutely and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"Sam, look at me," Cas coaxed, crouching down by the bed but not moving to touch the terrified hunter. "We're going to figure this out. I know this is all my fault, but I'm going to fix it. Dean and I are going to help you, I promise."
It seemed the more the angel talked the more terrified Sam got. Dean glared at Cas to shut him up but it was too late; Sam let out a broken sound and shrank back like a wild animal. Everyone froze, until after a heartbeat of tense silence Sam's face relaxed and broke into a horrible parody of a grin.
"Oh very good, very good!" Sam snickered, clapping his hands together. Dean and Cas looked at each other in bemusement and no small amount of alarm.
"Clever. You really had me going that time. 9 out of 10," Sam waggled a mocking figure at Cas, who stared at it like it was a venomous snake. "Worse than the time I thought I found the way out, not as bad as when fake 'Cas' came to rescue me."
"Sam…?" Cas asked, a terrible suspicion beginning to dawn.
"Sammy?" Dean said at the exact same moment. The hunter and the angel exchanged another worried look.
"Oh come on!" Sam mocked. "The game's over. You've been caught. Now let's get back to the physical torture please. I'm sure this time shredding the skin from my body will make you feel better about being locked in here. Where are we up to? I lost count around the ten thousand mark."
Cas felt every word of this speech like a physical blow; he looked over at Dean and could see his horror and revulsion mirrored in the hunter's chalk-white face.
Sam's eyes darkened as he watched them. "Come on. Get to it already." Another long heartbeat of silence ensued and the hunter huffed impatiently. "Well, if that's how you're going to be I guess I'll have to start the party all by myself."
With that declaration Sam was suddenly up and moving. Cas and Dean were still frozen in place, Sam's move had been too unexpected and the shock of his earlier accusations hadn't yet worn off. Consequently Cas was almost too slow to react when the distressed hunter decided to break the tableau in as decisive a way as possible. Spinning around, Sam grabbed a lamp and flung it into the full-length mirror behind the door, causing it to shatter in an explosion of silver glass. Quickly the hunter ripped out a broken shard and, heedless of the blood dripping from his lacerated hand, raised it up with the clear intention of plunging the jagged splinter into his jugular.
It took a long moment where the world seemed to turn in slow motion for Cas to shake off his shock and leap into action. The angel reacted with the speed of thought, using every ounce of his inhuman reflexes to blast the shard out of Sam's hand, leap forward and slap a palm to his forehead, putting the hunter deep into unconsciousness. As Sam slumped into his arms, Cas turned to face Dean, who was still in the process of leaping forward and had to pull up short to prevent knocking both his brother and the angel to the ground. They locked eyes above Sam's head, which was now cradled to Cas's shoulder, and shared a moment of pure confusion, disbelief, and horror.
Dean helped the angel lay his brother down as comfortably as possible on the hard motel bed, despite Cas's protest that he didn't need help. Cas supposed Dean needed the physical contact to reassure himself that his brother was ok. The angel was startled by this thought, when had he become so attuned to human behavior?
Cas shook himself out of that unhelpful line of thought; Dean had finished pulling off Sam's shoes and was clearly waiting for Cas to finish healing his brother's hand. Cas noted that Dean's own hands were shaking violently, and there were tears standing at the corners of his eyes. He gently laid Sam's now-healed hand back on the mattress and turned to face his friend.
"I wondered how he still recognized me after over a hundred years locked away," Dean said unsteadily, staring at his brother's limp form. "I mean, who remembers someone after a century of torture? I had a hard enough time after less than half that."
Cas nodded grimly. "It's because he saw 'you' all the time. Even for my family that's… monstrous."
Dean scrubbed his hands on his pants as if trying to wipe away the memory of what just happened. He took a deep breath.
"Can you heal him?"
Cas looked at Dean gravely. "This isn't a physical ailment. I can try to put the wall back up, but it might not be possible. I'm sorry Dean. I'll do all I can."
Dean drew in a shaky breath and nodded. "I know it's cowardly of me Cas, but I need to get out. Go for a drive or something. After what we just learned I'd say he's definitely a flight risk, but I don't want to tie him down. Can you watch him for me, please?"
Cas nodded again. "Of course Dean. I will watch over him."
Dean shook himself out of his frozen state and turned to go, before looking back at the angel.
"Don't let me down, Cas. Not again."
Castiel stared at the floor after his friend had gone, another wave of guilt washing over him at Dean's parting words. He knew he deserved more than just words for what he had done to the Winchesters; after all, what Sam was going through right now was completely his fault. His arrogance and hubris had led him to practically destroy the two people in the world he cared for above all others, and Cas knew he could never expect forgiveness from them. Not that he would ever forgive himself.
A small noise came from the bed and the angel turned to look sharply at his sleeping charge. No human should have been able to fight the unnatural sleep Cas had put Sam into, but it looked like that's exactly what the hunter was doing. Cas could see his eyes roving around under his eyelids, and his lips trembling as if he was trying to open his mouth to scream.
It soon became clear that Sam was going to wake up and Cas didn't want his presence to scare the hunter into another attempt to take his own life. The angel made the snap decision to remove himself from Sam's perception and only reveal his presence if Sam tried to run. Cas didn't look too closely at his more selfish reason for going 'invisible'; he couldn't bear to see that look of pure horror and hatred on his friend's face again.
Once he was sure he was alone Sam's eyes popped open. He knew rationally that Lucifer was watching him, but he couldn't see him right that second and that was a blessed relief, one not often afforded in the Cage. He also knew it made no sense to run, after all he was trapped not only in the cage but also in his own mind, but he couldn't shake the instinct. Fight or flight still applied, even in Hell.
Sam sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. He'd been so certain this time that it was real. Obviously Lucifer had spent the first hundred years of his imprisonment just warming up. After all, what's a century in the scheme of eternity?
Just as he thought that happy thought Lucifer showed up on Dean's bed.
"Where have you been?" Sam snapped, not at all happy to see the monster but needing to know why he hadn't shown up immediately, like he usually did. Any change in routine was suspicious, and to be treated with caution.
"Here, Sammy. I'm always here for you, you know that," his tormentor said in a sickening parody of concern and love. Sam just grunted. Standing invisibly behind the bed Cas watched his friend converse with thin air and narrowed his eyes.
"Are you happy I figured it out, or did I spoil some big plan of yours?" Sam asked casually, pulling his boots on. Lucifer grinned lazily.
"I knew you'd figure it out eventually," he shrugged. "Did it cause you pain?"
"Of course," Sam said matter-of-factly, stuffing clothes into his bag to give himself something to do with his hands except strangle the smug bastard sitting on his brother's bed. That course of action never ended well.
"Then I am satisfied," Lucifer stated, smiling again as he settled back on the bed. "Out of curiosity, what gave me away?"
"Castiel," Sam said. The angel jerked backwards at hearing his name, thinking somehow Sam could see him. When he realized Sam was just talking about him to his hallucination he relaxed a little. Until Sam finished his sentence.
"He was too concerned, you know? I know Cas has never really done more than tolerate me. Boy with the demon blood and all that."
Castiel felt sure his heart had shattered into a million pieces, despite the physical impossibility of such an action. The guilt and grief he felt at those words caused him to sway on his feet and he nearly revealed himself, nearly showed himself to Sam to tell him he was wrong, so very wrong. But he stopped himself, because this conversation was too important to miss, it gave too much insight into the direction the hallucinations were pushing his friend.
"Why is it still going?" Sam asked finally, stopping on his way to the door to ask his tormentor the question that had been hanging between them. He didn't want to know the answer, but he needed to know.
"Oh my dear, stupid boy," Lucifer smirked, "because it isn't over yet, of course." With that he snapped his fingers and was gone. Sam stared at the place he had been for a long moment, then turned towards the door and walked right into Castiel.
Sam looked at the angel in confusion for just a second, before leaping backwards with all the strength he could muster.
"Oh no," he whispered brokenly, scrabbling even further away. He knew what this was. The blue eyes of the angel bored into him as he tilted his head to the side in that achingly familiar gesture.
"Sam…" the gravelly voice said as Cas reached tentatively towards him. Sam shrank back until he was in the corner, trying in vain to make his large frame into a smaller target. The angel moved another step forward and Sam began to babble, words pouring out of him in a hopeless attempt to distract Lucifer and put off the inevitable.
"I wondered when you were going to pull out this card," he sneered with a bitter laugh, staring straight at 'Castiel'. He saw the angel's brow furrow in confusion; Lucifer was really going all out on the realism this time. But of course he was, that was the only way he could make this work and truly break Sam, really destroy the last shreds of sanity he still hopelessly clung to.
"You know, it was bad enough when you raped me wearing my brother's form," Sam continued, as calm as if he was talking about the weather, or some other ordinary, mundane thing. "Of course, it didn't work as well as you hoped, I knew it wasn't him. On no plane, in no reality, no matter the provocation would the real Dean do that to me. But Cas, who the fuck knows what Cas is really capable of?"
Sam was looking straight into the angel's eyes as he said this and saw him shudder beneath the weight of those words. A smidgen of doubt about the falseness of this reality treacherously planted itself in his mind, but he squashed it ruthlessly. Of course this wasn't real, if he let himself think that again it would unravel his mind even quicker, bring Lucifer his satisfaction even sooner. And every second Sam could defy that monster's wishes was a moment he would take, with glee.
"Sam…" Cas begged, hands curled in his trench coat, real distress evident in his tone. Sam stared back with all the hatred and loathing he could muster. How dare Lucifer take this form, how dare he defile Cas's memory in such a way?! As the angel stood there, indecisive, the hunter gave in to his fear and shut his eyes. For the first time in over a hundred years, Sam prayed.
"Cas, I know you can't hear me because you're dead. And I'm in the Cage. But I wanted to say goodbye. There's no coming back from what's about to happen. But I know it's not you doing this to me. And if it was, so be it. I would give anything to you. Be anything for you. I love you, Castiel. I will always love you. Goodbye, my Angel."
Castiel didn't know what to do. Sam had worked himself into a state and wasn't allowing the angel anywhere near him. He kept his hands curled in his clothes in order to reduce the threat Sam felt, but every time he moved forwards the hunter's face twisted with such pain Cas thought his heart would break anew. And then Sam revealed what had happened to him, how Lucifer had worn Dean's form and done something appalling, something unspeakable, unforgivable. Cas felt himself fill with a rage so white-hot he thought he might burst into flames.
And then, and then, Sam prayed to him. Sam still had faith in him, after all the pain he had inflicted, after all the damage he had done. Sam still believed. In him. Not only that, Sam loved him. Sam, who had given his very soul to protect the world, loved him! At this revelation Castiel felt his Grace, already roused by his earlier rage, burst to life within him.
As Sam finished his prayer he scrambled up, determined to take whatever came next on his feet, not cowering like a child. As he opened his mouth to get out one last scathing remark, he noticed the angel's expression. The look on Cas's face was nothing Sam could put a name to, it was completely inhuman, something ancient and beautiful and terrible that was usually hidden below the surface. Sam felt his face go slack in shock, and then suddenly the angel was all white, glowing so brightly it hurt to look at him. Through the brightness Sam could see only Cas's piercing blue eyes, and the shadow of an enormous pair of wings that encompassed the entire room. He breathed in deeply, feeling the angel's grace reach out to him, and oh, he knew the feel of that grace. There was only one being in the world it belonged to, and it certainly wasn't Lucifer.
"Castiel!" he whispered, falling to his knees.
The angel let the light inside him die out as he looked down at the awestruck hunter, who was still on his knees, gazing at him with an expression that contained so much wonder that if Cas had needed to breathe it would have taken his breath away.
"It's really me, Sam," he said, holding out a hand to help the youngest Winchester to his feet. Instead of getting up, Sam clutched Cas's proffered hand and pulled him to his knees, grabbing the angel's face in his hands and staring at him with an expression that Castiel couldn't name, but that made him want to cry. He knelt there passively as Sam ran his fingers over his face, through his hair, fisted his hands in his trench coat. Eventually the hunter seemed satisfied and pulled Castiel to him in a rough hug.
"Thank you," he murmured into the angel's ear, tears evident in the thickness of his voice. Cas put his arms around the hunter and gingerly hugged him back, trying to comfort without confining.
Sam released Cas and sat back, staring at him again until suddenly a shadow crossed his face and he let out a dismayed groan. Cas immediately sprang to his feet, on high alert, his angel blade appearing in his hand without conscious thought. When the angel found no obvious danger he looked down at his charge inquiringly.
Sam looked back up at him with abject misery.
"I'm sorry, Cas," he whispered. Cas looked at him in confusion. What could Sam possibly have to be sorry for? If this was a human movie, Cas would certainly have been cast as the bad guy in this scenario.
Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Those things I said, I wasn't in my right mind, ok? I never wanted you to know… what happened. I never wanted that. Please… please don't tell Dean."
Cas felt his throat close and tears well up in his eyes for the third or fourth time that day. He reflected bitterly that life had been so much simpler when he'd been a 'proper' angel. He mutely held out his hand again and this time Sam did use it to help himself up. He was so weak it took him a few tries to get to his feet. Cas felt an irrational stab of anger.
"You listen to me, Sam Winchester," he ground out. "I won't tell your brother, but you are never to apologize to me again. For anything. This is my fault, not yours. If you were to take an angel blade and cut out my heart, I would not expect an apology. It would be no more than I deserve."
"Oh, Cas," Sam breathed out, and Cas knew the hunter was about to make excuses for him, was about to try and make him feel less guilty. The angel couldn't deal with that right now, couldn't deal with anything approaching forgiveness, so he held up a hand to stop the flow of words. Sam wisely fell silent.
"Now," Cas said sternly, "lie down. You might not sleep but the evening's events have put too great a strain on your heart. You need to rest."
Sam nodded obediently and lay down, his eyes never leaving the angel's face, as if afraid he might disappear. Cas sat on a chair beside the bed, determined to stay by his friend's side and watch over him, for the rest of his life if necessary.