Hey everyone! I feel like it's been forever since I wrote S8 but once again I'm back :P So to give you a sense of where this is set it's between 8x19 "Taxi Driver" and 8x20 "Pac-Man Fever" though it's also technically partly an AU of "Great Escapist" because of a couple scenes that you will know when you get to.

I hope you all enjoy! Lots of whumpage ahead! ;P

Thicker Than Water

A Supernatural Fanfic

Chapter One

Sam stared at the blank screen of his phone, anxiously chewing a thumbnail.

It had been two days since Dean had called him.

Yes, Dean could get caught up on a hunt, and he wasn't obligated to inform Sam about everything he did, but Dean had left three days ago and he had only sent Sam a short text when he had gotten to the town that had a supposed vampire nest. Since then—nothing. Considering that Sam was sick from the Trials and Dean was the worst mother hen in existence, the fact that he hadn't called to check in on him if not just to report on the case was enough to cause Sam worry.

Something was definitely wrong.

Sam grabbed his phone again and called Dean one last time. Voicemail, just like the last twenty times.

And he'd already tried all the other phones with the same result. He knew Dean would have informed him if his phone had stopped working or had been broken anyway—that's why they had other phones after all. All of this was really just wishful thinking to keep him from the truth.

That Dean was lost on a hunt, that he was probably hurt, maybe worse, and that he never should have gone without Sam.

Sam pushed himself up from the library chair and fought off a wave of dizziness as he staggered a few steps, waiting for the room to stop spinning. He needed to go find his brother. Problem was, he wasn't even sure he could physically make it.

Sam glanced back at his phone, wondering if there was someone else he could call.

He knew who he wanted at his side—Cas. But they hadn't seen the angel since he went AWOL with the Angel Tablet. Still, Sam didn't know who else to call for help.

He snatched his phone and called Cas' number and nearly threw it across the room when he heard the automated voice saying the line had been disconnected. His anxiety sparked a coughing fit and he had to sink into a chair, grabbing a tissue as blood spattered from his lips. He took several deep breaths, trying to keep the black from encroaching on his vision and closed his eyes. He could still pray to Cas., providing the angel was even listening. Either way, this was the last hope he had right now.

"Cas," he said softly. "If you can hear me…look I don't know what's going on with you, but I need your help. Dean's missing on a hunting trip and…I can't do this alone, Cas, the Trials messed me up. I need you, please."

He opened his eyes, half hoping to find the angel standing there, ears straining for the familiar flap of wings, but the bunker was empty. Sam sagged then pushed himself upright again determinedly, grabbing his jacket from the back of another chair and heading to pack his bag and some weapons. He would find his brother himself then, even if he died in the process.

Castiel was sitting at a diner, drinking coffee when he heard Sam's prayer.

If you can hear me…look I don't know what's going on with you, but I need your help…

He had been on the run since he had left the Winchesters and Meg at that warehouse. He felt a pang at the memory of that night. Meg had sacrificed herself to get them out of there, and Sam and Dean…he had known running would confuse them, make them angry even, but he didn't know what else to do. Touching the Angel Tablet had cleared his head, broken the hold Naomi had over him and given him clarity for the first time since he had gotten out of Purgatory. All he could think about was what could happen if the other angels got their hands on the Tablet and if they had found him again so he did the only thing he could think of, and ran.

Even now he had angels on his trail, he couldn't stay any place for very long. He'd tried various methods of warding himself, but so far, he hadn't been successful. He knew that staying away from the Winchesters was keeping them safe. Knew the angels would use the brothers as leverage to capture him if they could find them, and Castiel couldn't stand the thought of that happening.

But now…he heard Sam's pleading in his prayer, his desperation. And if Dean was lost on a hunting trip, he could be hurt or worse—the angels may have even found him, though Castiel thought they would surely let him know if that was the case, unless they interrogated Dean to see if he knew where Castiel was. Either way, Castiel knew he had made his decision. He couldn't leave his friends like this. Despite the danger his proximity to them brought, there was also a danger in Sam going after his brother alone in his condition. And Dean had prayed to Castiel himself not so long ago, asking him to look after Sam. And was it not his duty anyway to keep those boys, his surrogate family, alive?

He figured Sam was at the Men of Letters bunker they had told him about in Lebanon Kansas and he made his way there, stopping several other places first to make sure he wasn't followed. He was pretty sure he had shaken the patrol that had nearly caught him the day before but it never hurt to be too cautious.

The warding on the bunker made it so that he couldn't just fly in, but he got to the entrance and knocked on the door.

As the minutes stretched out, he worried he had missed Sam and the young man had already gone off to find his brother, but eventually he heard a scraping of metal and the door opened from the inside, revealing the younger Winchester.

His eyes widened and Cas felt a pang of guilt at the surprise on Sam's face, as if he had not expected him to come at all.

"Cas, hey!"

"Hello, Sam," Castiel said as he stepped inside hesitantly. "I heard your prayer."

Sam swallowed hard and nodded, stepping aside so Castiel could get in and closing the door behind him.

"Cas, thanks; look, I know you have a lot on your plate, but I could really use the help."

Castiel frowned. "Sam, you and your brother…I still consider you my family. I will always help you if I am able to."

Sam's face slackened in relief which only made him look more exhausted. He nodded in thanks and motioned Castiel down the stairs. Castiel went ahead of him and took in the bunker for the first time. It was vast, orderly, and he could feel the warding that protected it. It was very strong and should keep just about anything that could hurt the Winchesters out…including the angels searching for him. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, it should even keep them from tracking his grace signature while he was in here. He breathed a little easier with that knowledge.

"This place…I like it. It's very secure," he complimented as he turned back around toward Sam.

The younger Winchester was gripping the end of the stair rail and breathing heavily, sagging slightly. Castiel frowned and reached out to touch his arm, afraid of him falling over.

A clash of discordant notes coming from Sam's soul washed over him and Castiel's breath caught in his throat. He looked up to meet the younger Winchester's eyes and saw the pain written in every line of his body, going far deeper than just the fever and the failing organs.

"Oh, Sam," he breathed. "You look terrible."

Sam huffed a laugh as if Castiel had said something funny as he leaned back against the rail. "Yeah, um…I did the second Trial and it…well, let's just say I may have been feeling the effects before, but now it's really throwing me for a loop."

Castiel shook his head. "Sam, you shouldn't even be leaving the bunker. You should be in bed."

Sam shook his head firmly, pushing off of the railing and marching over to a large map table in the middle of the open room and grabbing a bag, throwing a few things into it. "No. That's what Dean told me too, and he didn't come back. I'm not going to let the same thing happen to you. I can't just sit here not knowing what's going on, I'll be better once I'm doing something to actively find my brother."

Castiel, conceded with a nod. He had learned a long time ago that there was no point in arguing with the Winchesters. They were possibly the most stubborn force on the planet.

"I understand," he said. "But Dean also asked me to look after you so I hope you won't be doing anything stupid without me."

Sam actually laughed this time. "Don't worry. If I do something stupid I'll be sure to let you know." He slung the duffle bag over his shoulder and picked up some keys from the table, tossing them to Castiel. "I hope you can drive."

Castiel caught the keys and studied them briefly. "I think I can figure it out."

"Great, let's go save my reckless idiot brother."

Dean was already coming to when he hit the floor with a heavy whump, but after that he was definitely awake. He couldn't see anything past the cloth tied tightly around his eyes and he could only give a muffled grunt around the gag in his mouth. His head ached, but he still struggled as well as he could even though his hands and feet were tied.

He couldn't believe those vamps had gotten the drop on him like that. Okay, so there had been a few more than he had originally thought, but still. He was already getting rusty since his time in Purgatory.

A foot thudded into his side and he curled up defensively, ready for more blows but none came. Instead he heard several figures walking around and voices.

"This is him?"

"Yes, this is Dean Winchester."

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he felt one of the figures crouch down right next to him and then the blindfold was yanked from his head and the gag removed roughly from his mouth. Dean blinked, eyes adjusting quickly to the dim light of the room and saw a dark-haired man crouching in front of him.

Well, 'man' was being generous; Dean knew well enough that this guy was a vamp.

"Well, well, well, Dean Winchester in the flesh. I've heard so much about you," the vampire said.

Dean licked his lips to wet his mouth. "Can't say the same for you, bloodsucker."

Another kick to the back. Dean grunted and tried to flex his numb hands.

The vampire looking down at him smiled coldly. "You wouldn't know me, I know, but allow me to introduce myself. I'm Virgil, and I belonged to the nest that you and Benny Lafitte brutally slayed a couple months back."

Dean blinked. "The vampirates?"

Another blow thudded into his back and Dean whipped his head around with a sneer seeing the huge vampire who had been responsible for bringing him here after stuffing him in the trunk of a car.

"We are all that's left of that nest now," Virgil said. He didn't sound too broken up about it. In fact, instead of grief, his eyes simply held a cold hard hatred. Dean didn't like his chances. He tried to twist his numb hands into his jacket where he had stashed some syringes of dead man's blood that his captors hadn't seemed to find yet. He took a quick look around the room. There was Virgil, and the vamp who brought him in, and then three others hovering over to one side. He knew he wouldn't have much of a chance tied like this and surrounded, but if he could at least stick Virgil with the blood, then he might be able to confuse the rest of the nest long enough to attempt an escape.

"We vowed to make you and Benny pay," Virgil finished with a shrug.

"Benny's dead," Dean grunted. He could feel the syringes, but he was having trouble forcing his numb fingers to grasp them.

"We know," Virgil said calmly. "That's why we're going to take it all out of your ass instead."

Dean finally grasped one of the syringes and held it tightly, easing it out and was just about ready to roll over and jab it into Virgil's thigh, when the other vampire shoved a boot into his shoulder, forcing Dean onto his face. He grunted and growled as the vamp reached down and twisted the vial of blood from his hand.

"Virgil," the vamp growled.

Virgil took the syringe delicately, standing up and studying it, making a tsking sound with his tongue. "Dead man's blood, Dean? Naughty, naughty. That's not exactly playing fair, now is it?" He nodded to his bruiser. "Search him. He probably has more."

The big vamp kicked him hard in the ribs again and slammed Dean onto his back, pinning Dean's hands under him as he bent and groped inside the hunter's jacket.

"Whoa, hey, watch it, you handsy bastard, I don't swing that way!" Dean growled, wriggling to make it as difficult as possible. The vampire pulled another syringe out of his inside pocket and relieved him of a small dagger he found when he yanked Dean's boots off. Dean watched helplessly as his last two plans for escape were handed over to his captor who then handed them to one of the other vamps waiting to one side who took them gingerly.

"Get him up," Virgil said to his bruiser, jerking his chin at Dean.

Dean was hauled upright, his ankles stayed tied but his hands were cut loose. He tried to struggle free, but another vamp came over and helped hold him, completely relieving him of his coat, and lashing his hands together in the front this time. Then the big vamp hauled him to the middle of the dingy room, stretching his hands above his head before securing the ropes that bound him to a hook that was attached to the ceiling.

Dean growled and tried to move, but his feet were only barely scraping the ground and the extra movement only put more pressure on his wrists and shoulders. The vamp punched him in his vulnerable stomach once for good measure, forcing the breath out of Dean with a whuff.

Virgil shook his head, snapping his fingers at the final vamp who came forward, handing him a length of chain. "You hunters are all the same, so arrogant, entitled; but you, Dean Winchester, are the worst of them all. You and your brother have hunted so many of us, and yet, ironically, you chose to ally yourself with the one vampire we all hated more than you. And then you helped him kill his family." He wrapped the chain around his hand to get a grip on it and Dean's stomach plummeted, knowing what was coming. "I wish Benny was here now to see what I plan to do with his human pet."

"I wish he was too," Dean snarled. "I'd help him gank your ass too, you bloodsucking son of a bitch."

Virgil was in his face instantly, hand gripping his jaw and wrenching his head to one side to expose his throat. Dean closed his eyes as the vampire's breath washed over his skin and he was sure he was about to feel fangs sink into his neck any second.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you, Dean. I'm going to drink you dry. But not for a very, very long time. First I'm going to make sure you suffer for every one of my kind you have killed during your pitiful human life. Before I'm done with you, you'll be begging me to tear your throat out and put and end to it. But don't expect I'll ever allow you that mercy. It's too good for scum like you."

Dean forced a smirk onto his lips, glowering into the vamp's face. "Well, now, don't go making promises you can't keep."

Virgil stepped back, wrapping the chain around his hand again then took aim and swung.