A/N: Written for the 2012 Sassy Exchange and edited for here. Much improved, I think. Based on this prompt:
Prompt 3: Anything this might inspire:
"naz" — (Urdu) "the pride, the assurance that arises from knowing you are loved; from knowing that no matter what you do, you will always be loved."
"Man, I tell ya, Sammy, it is nice for something to just be what it is for once," Dean said, tossing his duffel to the floor.
"Yeah, definitely," Sam agreed. Dean headed to the bathroom, turned on the sink and splashed cold water onto his face. Sam sat on his bed slowly, brow furrowed, wondering if it was really true. He couldn't for the life of him remember when they'd last hunted a simple vengeful spirit. No demons, no "bigger plans", no unexpected twists, no crazy hallucinations...
No angels...Sam thought morosely.
"Well I don't care what you do, but I'm gonna get me some sleep," Dean announced from the bathroom, wiping his face with a washcloth.
"Yeah, ok," Sam murmured absently.
"You ok?" Dean looked hard into Sam's face.
"Yeah man, I'm fine. Just...waiting for the other shoe to drop, y'know?"
The corners of Dean's mouth twitched into a small, knowing smile. He clapped Sam on the shoulder and said, "Hey, we got it this time. You know we did." Sam started to smile a little, feeling slightly reassured.
"Hey!" Sam yelped as Dean suddenly pulled him into a headlock.
"Can't be the big, world-saving hero every day, Sammy. Get over yourself, dude." Sam wrestled his way out of the hold and glared huffily. Dean chuckled to himself and plopped onto his bed. Then he grinned and grinned at Sam until finally he ducked his head to hide a smile of his own.
"Ok, well, I'm beat. I'm gonna actually get some sleep for once in my life. Imagine that, huh?" Dean smirked. Sam laughed and shook his head.
"I guess I'll...go to a bar or something?" Sam suggested hesitantly. Dean gave him a weird look, shrugged, and rolled over onto his side.
"Do whatever you want, you're a big boy," he said, yawning widely and conspicuously.
Sam felt a small smile tugging at his lips, grateful that Dean was choosing not to pry. He checked for his room key, gave a final glance toward his brother, and walked out into the chilly evening. The sky was a mix of ashy charcoal-colored clouds and the searing orange of the sunset blazing against them. Sam had to stare at it for at least a little while before he let his eyes fall closed, the streak of sunlight still burning beneath his eyelids. It was good to be alone for a moment, just to lose himself in stillness.
He sighed and leaned against the door of the Impala. It had been in his brain through the whole case: only an hour drive from the mental hospital. Only an hour away from Castiel. Screw it, he thought. Sam pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number with shaking hands.
"Hey, Meg? It's Sam. I'm kind of...in the area and, well..."
"Heya Sam. I had a feeling you would turn up sooner or later. Pop on over; I'll let you in to see your boyfriend."
Sam cringed at the word. Boyfriend. As though it was anything like that.
"Um, right. Thanks." He gave her an ETA and hung up quickly before he had to say anything else. He didn't feel like explaining himself to a demon right now, not to mention that there was a good amount of driving ahead of him. He was anxious to get started.
"I should warn you," Meg said as she led Sam down the eerily white, dim hallway of the hospital, "he doesn't really do much of anything. At all. But hey, makes my job easier." She grinned, stopping at last to open the door to his old room. Sam swallowed nervously. He did not know what to do in this situation. Hell, he didn't know if he should even be here at all. Meg sighed in exasperation, put a hand on his back and nearly shoved him inside.
"You've got an hour before I kick you out. Don't waste it standing in the doorway." With that, Meg closed the door behind him with an ominous click. Sam listened to the sound of her footsteps until they faded from earshot.
The room was the same as he remembered: small, dirty white, and dark. No Lucifer, though, that was a definite improvement. But now he was the one looking at the manic, huddled form on the bed – had he looked like that? – and Sam felt a horrible sting of empathy for Dean.
"Cas...?" he whispered hoarsely. The figure on the bed twitched and whirled around to face him. Sam choked back the indescribable sound of despair from his throat; Castiel was staring straight at him and somehow not at him at all. His eyes had turned a dull grey and grown wide with fear and exhaustion. Sam rushed to him, kneeling on the floor to look up into Cas' face, gripping the edges of the bed with white knuckles. Cas reeled backward to get away, trembling and shaking his head vehemently.
"Cas - Cas, it's me! It's Sam," he pleaded, "c'mon, you know me!"
"No, no, I - please, no! I - I'm sorry!" Cas gasped, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes, "It's my fault! I know and I'm sorry!" He panted heavily and his whole body shuddered, as though it were fighting to simply not fall apart.
"You should have seen this coming, Castiel. If you had only followed your orders!" Michael's voice rippled like a distant wave of thunder.
Cas pressed himself against the wall, feebly scrabbling to escape from the terrible, awesome presence. On base instinct, Sam snatched Cas' hands into his own, squeezing them tightly, and found himself in prayer.
"Please," he whispered into Cas's hands, "please Cas...there's so much that's good in you. You're an angel, you're strong, you can hold on until - until I find a way to help you, ok? You have to be alright, you just have to be..." Steady streams of hot, wet tears were flowing down Sam's cheeks now. Cas squirmed fearfully in the tight grasp.
"Traitor…" Michael hissed.
"...because I believe in you..." Sam whispered reverently. He gripped the back of Cas's neck and tugged him down into a warm, fast hug. Cas's whole body tensed in shock before suddenly falling pliant and limp in Sam's arms.
"Shh," Sam murmured, cradling Cas's head to his shoulder. Cas clung tightly to Sam's neck, burying his face into his chest and soaking his shirt as he wept.
"How?" Cas sobbed. Sam furrowed his brow in confusion.
"How what?"
"How can you say that there is good in me? That you believe in me? How can you ever forgive what I did to you?"
"I don't know, Cas. I think it's because...I understand." Accidentally hurting the ones he loved because he thought he was doing the only thing that was right? Yeah, Sam definitely understood that.
"I do forgive you, Cas. I'll always forgive you," Sam said softly. They sat in a strangely comfortable silence after that. Sam half-wondered if Cas had managed to fall asleep. He hoped so, considering how little sleep he'd gotten when Lucifer'd been in his head.
"You fool."
Cas jerked awake with a helpless cry and clutched his head between his hands.
"You think you can be absolved by him? His forgiveness?" Michael sneered, "He is Lucifer's vessel! The Antichrist! What can his forgiveness possibly be worth?"
"Cas! Cas, snap out of it!" Sam cupped his face gently in both hands and pressed their foreheads together.
"You're stronger than me, you can beat this. Have faith, Cas."
"Turning on your Father? Your brothers? Turning even on the pitiful humans you deemed your 'friends'? Do you do anything for anyone other than yourself?"
"I only did what I thought was right," Cas said even as his voice shook. He squeezed his eyes shut in shame.
"I know, Cas," Sam said comfortingly.
"You were right in one thing: almost killing Sam Winchester. You might have rid the world of a great evil."
"Sam Winchester is a good man," Cas asserted as defiantly as his exhaustion allowed. Sam pulled back and looked at him for a moment, slightly stunned. Of course he thought highly of Castiel; he was an angel, always trying to do the right thing and doing his best. Could he possibly see the same thing in Sam?
"There is good in him. I've seen his soul. Sam...shines." Cas' confidence was growing quickly while Sam struggled to conceal the tears stinging his eyes.
"And you, brother, are blind, and always have been. As I once was. But we cannot simply follow instructions until they run out and there is nothing left! We must decide for ourselves what is righteous and good and just - we have to grow up and learn to function on our own! That is the purpose of free will!"
"You doubt the word of our Father!?"
"No - I believe in the Winchesters!" Cas cried, "And in them, myself!"
All the lights in the room abruptly shattered and went dark. The sudden stillness of the room was tangible. Cas panted with exertion and blinked slowly. Michael was gone. Slowly, he turned back to Sam, who immediately pulled him into a smothering embrace.
"It isn't over yet, Sam. He won't just disappear forever," Cas said softly, voice muffled by flannel.
"But now you know you're strong enough. You can win," Sam urged.
"Sam, I don't -"
They both jumped at a sudden loud rapping at the door.
"Sam! I don't know what the hell kind of kink you guys have, and I don't care, but keep it down. You have a minute to wrap it up before I kick you out and I won't care if you're nude!" Meg called from the hallway.
"I guess I have to go..." Sam said reluctantly, trying to ignore the hot flush in his cheeks. Cas sat very still and silent, looking... Disappointed? Sam wondered. He began to stand to leave but Cas grabbed his large hand in his two smaller ones, pulling him back to his knees.
"Sam, I - thank you. For everything." Cas cradled Sam's cheek to draw him closer and pressed a reverent kiss to his forehead. Sam was overwhelmed by love for Cas at that moment - love that burned hot and freezing at the same time, so intense that it seemed to be tearing him apart from the inside.
"I love you," he blurted out suddenly, gripping Cas' hand tightly. Cas smiled down at him sadly and made no move to pull away, to Sam's relief. He reached down to hold his hand to Sam's heart, feeling its frantic beat.
"You're afraid," he said quietly, giving Sam's hand a little squeeze, "but you shouldn't be. Not of this. Love is a strength, Sam."
Sam eventually managed a weak, watery smile in response. He stayed with Cas like that for as long as he dared before slowly, unwillingly, climbing to his feet and moving toward the door. He turned to face Cas one last time, his hand resting hesitantly on the doorknob.
"I meant what I said. I do have faith in you, Cas. Remember that, ok?" he asked quietly. Cas locked eyes with Sam and nodded. Sam swallowed hard, hazel eyes nearly brimming over with desperation and helplessness. But Cas was stronger than he was. Cas could get through this even if Sam couldn't. At last he managed to tear himself away and closed the door quickly behind him before he changed his mind.
"Sam Winchester," Cas murmured fondly. He felt a surge of emotion flood his chest, one that he hadn't felt in a long time; a feeling that said everything would be alright. In his head, he knew that it wouldn't be, that it couldn't be, yet still he couldn't shake the feeling.
Everything would be alright because, no matter what, he was loved by Sam Winchester.