Castiel didn't know exactly what he expected to find when he followed the altered cellular signal from Heaven to Sam, but he knew what he found wasn't it. He knew a confused and uncertain young man looking for answers in a voicemail message wasn't it.

"Sam, it's time. Are we doing this or not?"

Ruby sounded impatient.

"Give me a minute to think."

Sam sounded confused; cornered, almost.

"Sam—"

Ruby was less than sympathetic.

"Give me a minute, Ruby!"

Sam sounded frustrated.

"Better think fast."

Ruby sounded fed up.

And Castiel wasn't ready for that. He had expected Sam to be head-over-heels in love with the plan to drink as much demon blood as possible; intoxicated by the thought of how much power he was about to have. Castiel expected to find something he could take back to Dean as evidence; something that made him feel justified, something the proved there was nothing salvageable about the human race, something that proved the necessity of the Apocalypse.

There was only one thing Castiel had said to Dean that was confirmed by his excursion, and that was how much pain there was on Earth; yet even that tore his own allegations against the planet to pieces. If Heaven was supposed to bring about paradise, they were doing it all wrong.

Castiel watched Sam's will crumble as he listened to the falsified message from Dean. He watched tears well up in Sam's eyes; watched the Boy with the Demon Blood struggle not to cry over a few harsh words from a brother he had viciously fought with not twenty-four hours earlier. Castiel watched Sam's head tilt down slightly—the shame, the self-loathing, the utter worthlessness.

There was so much pain in his eyes, but it wasn't the fault of Earth, and the suffering caused by demons was minimal when compared to what the angels had done. They were the ones who ostracized Sam and pushed him toward Ruby, they were the ones who altered the message on his phone, they were the ones who—

No. It was Castiel. Castiel was the one who let Sam out of the panic room. Castiel was the one who held the hand of someone so eager to serve God and threw their flaws back in their face. Castiel was the one who threatened Dean with the ultimatum of a dead brother, who put a wedge between them before they had a chance to repair the damaged parts of their relationship. Castiel was the one who refused to take Dean to Sam, to let Sam see how much he was cared for and loved despite it all. Castiel was the one who chose not to warn either of them about what really lay ahead, what their roles in the oncoming war were supposed to be.

It was Castiel who reached out and grabbed Sam's hand before he could put the phone away. It was Castiel who shed the barrier keeping him invisible so Sam could see him. It was Castiel who looked into those glassy, broken eyes and pleaded with as much sincerity as he could muster,

"Please, Sam. Forgive me."

"Castiel!" Sam startled, but he didn't pull away, and there was no anger or disgust or indignation in his eyes; only shock and fear. "What—what are you…?"

"This is my fault, Sam." Castiel silently implored him, searching Sam's eyes and taking the painful guilt it caused without complaint. "I let you out of the panic room. I refused to let Dean come to you, and I—"

"Dean?" Sam tensed, looked at his phone, and then looked back at Castiel. "What do you mean you refused to… let him? Is he being held somewhere? Is he okay?"

Castiel felt a knife burrow into his chest. His brother's safety is his priority, even in this state. "Dean is not wounded; he only wants to see you. If I only…" He shook it aside and held Sam's hand a little tighter. "That is not the message Dean left you."

Sam blinked, looked at the phone again, and this time he had a bitter smile when he looked back up. "I think it is."

Castiel shook his head. "No, Sam. It was manipulated."

"He pretty much told me the last time we saw each other that he wa—"

"Despite what happened, you still listened to the message, and the words still caused you pain, because you still care. You will always care, and if the day comes when you go your separate ways indefinitely, it will never stop weighing on your soul. You know this. You know, Sam, and you know Dean is the same. They wanted—we wanted to cut you off from Dean, because we knew if you were cut off from him, you would go to Ruby. If Dean was around, we knew you would go back to him, eventually, every single time. That is how strong your bond is."

Sam almost looked over his shoulder but stopped short, almost as if he was afraid to see whatever was behind him. "You were pushing me to…? I don't understand. I thought—I thought me drinking demon blood was a bad thing. You were going to kill me if I didn't stop."

"Which you didn't, yet here you are. Did you think we didn't know, Sam?" Castiel shook his head. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he felt so disgusting, so putrid, so slimy, all the way down to his core. "Lilith isn't going to open the final seal, Sam. She is the final seal. Lilith dies, and it's the beginning of the end."

Sam looked down at his phone for a long time, thousands of emotions—none of which Castiel recognized—flashing across his features. Sam didn't know what to do, and after what Castiel said, he didn't know who to trust anymore.

"I can get Dean." Castiel knew it would be hard, and it wouldn't end well for him, but he could do it. He had to, if it meant fixing the mess he had such a large hand in. "I can find a way. Please, just talk to Dean."

Sam blinked rapidly, overwhelmed. "I…" He looked over his shoulder and tensed up slightly. "Ruby's gone." He started to turn in a circle, growing slightly more frantic. "Is she going after Lilith herself?"

Castiel shook his head. "There's a reason they needed you, Sam. She isn't powerful enough to do this." Though she may be sounding an alarm. "I will check on her once Dean is with you." Well, that was a lie. "Tell me you will talk to Dean."

Sam kept looking over his shoulder, but then he slowly looked back at Castiel. His eyes wandered down to the phone in his hand, and then he carefully extended it. "I want… I want to hear Dean's real message."

Castiel nodded and met Sam halfway, taking the hunter's hand with a gentle nature that had been absent the last time they made such contact.

Castiel placed his hand on the phone briefly and then released it, looking at Sam and waiting for him to play the message. It took a moment of indecision—during which, Castiel began to empathize with Ruby's frustration more than he would ever admit—and then Sam pressed the necessary buttons.

"Hey, it's me. Uh…" Dean cleared his throat. "Look, I'll just get right to it. I'm still royally ticked off... and I owe you a serious beatdown. But... I shouldn't have said what I said. You know, I'm not Dad. We're brothers. You know, we're family. And, uh... no matter how bad it gets, that doesn't change. Sammy, I'm sorry."

Sam stared at the phone, hands trembling, eyes watering more than they had from the first message. He took a deep breath and blinked rapidly, glancing away as he ground out his response.

"I want to talk to Dean."

Castiel felt a surge of relief. "I'll get him."

Sam swallowed hard and nodded, distracted, and Castiel used that to his advantage. He reached out and touched Sam's side, ignoring the subsequent cry of pain.

"I've carved Enochian sigils into your ribs," Castiel explained. "They will conceal you from demons and angels alike, so you must wait here. I will not be able to find you otherwise. Once Dean is with you, run."

Castiel didn't wait for Sam to reply, instead flying back to Dean with all the speed he could muster. He landed just as Dean was reaching for a cheeseburger.

Castiel grabbed Dean by the shirt and dragged him across the room, pinning him to the wall. He covered Dean's mouth with one hand and used the other to pull out a knife, waiting until he received a submissive nod to drop his hand.

Castiel put the blade to the skin of his own forearm and cut deeply, pocketing the knife and pushing Dean aside. He began to smear his blood on the wall, drawing as quickly as he could, his vessel panicking in ways he didn't fully understand.

"Castiel! Do you want to tell me what exactly you think you're doing?"

Castiel drew faster, throwing the last two symbols onto the wall before pressing his hand to the blood seal. He looked at Zachariah and watched with nothing short of horror in his eyes as his fellow angel was forced from the room in a blaze of white light.

There was no going back. Not after that display.

It doesn't matter. Castiel dropped his hand from the wall, vaguely aware of sluggish trails of blood traveling down his arm. "He won't be gone long."

"Cas…" Dean regarded him cautiously. "What are you doing?"

Castiel stopped then, meeting Dean's eyes and feeling a simultaneous flicker of shame and relief as he admitted, "Something I should have done long before now."

Dean shook his head, confusion clear on his face. "What… changed your mind?"

Castiel didn't have the luxury of pausing for effect. "Sam."

Castiel reached out and touched Dean's ribs, carving the sigils exactly like he had for Sam and regarding the resulting yelp with just as much disinterest. "This will help protect you. Sam can explain." He reached out with two fingers.

"Hey, wait, what do you mean Sam can explain?" Dean grabbed Castiel's wrist—as if that could actually stop the angel—and stared with concerned shades of green. "Where are you going?"

"I told you, Dean. Zachariah won't be gone long." Castiel glanced upward, half expecting the ceiling to cave in right then and there. "And he won't be alone when he comes back. This is for the best."

"Wait a second—"

"Find Sam. Don't kill Lilith. And Dean?" Castiel stared at him for a moment, and then light started to flood the room. He was out of time. "Thank you."

"For wh—?"

Dean was gone before he could finish.

Castiel allowed himself a moment of sorrow—he was never going to see Dean again, and he was never going to learn more about the human world he had steadily become so enraptured with—and then a moment of fear—because one of his biggest brothers was materializing in front of him, and it wasn't going to be pretty—and then he shoved it all down into the deepest corner of his consciousness.

"Castiel."

Castiel squared his shoulders and met Raphael's gaze unwaveringly, ignoring the very human reaction of a pounding heart in his chest. His vessel apparently had no problems embracing the fear Castiel refused to admit existed at all.

"You aided Dean Winchester in his escape."

Castiel gave a single nod, sharp and decisive. "I did."

"You sent him directly to his brother." Raphael spoke with supercilious disinterest, but there was rage hidden in those tones that Castiel was all too familiar with.

Castiel only gave another nod. "Yes, I did."

"You shielded him from our sight."

"I shielded them both." Castiel didn't blink, didn't avert his eyes, didn't falter in the slightest.

Raphael looked angry, but there was a smooth arrogance blended in, and his tone was ever-level as he gave his reply. "We will find them. One way or another, be it Heaven or Hell who gets the job done first, we will find them." He paused, a faint smirk pulling on the corner of his mouth. "You, of course, won't be around to see it. You'll die here, today, for your treason. Just be sure you go knowing how utterly futile your rebellion was, little brother."

Castiel couldn't help but think back to the warning he had tried to make Dean understand.

"We will all be hunted. We'll all be killed."

Castiel allowed a smirk to pull at his own lips.

Maybe it was because he was quoting the Righteous Man, or maybe it was because he knew, for the first time in a long time, he was doing the right thing, but an inexplicable peace settled over him as his lips began to move.

"If there is anything worth dying for… this is it."

Author's Note: Moving forward, it can be assumed Heaven attacked and killed Lilith (never understood why Sam had to be the one to do that anyway), thus the Apocalypse still started, Castiel was still brought back by God, and it still lead to the rest of the series as we know it.