Okay, this chapter may have more errors because I'm tired and I couldn't fool-proof read it. But I had promised that I would post it tonight.

However, I hope you enjoy the chapter, and that you like how the plot is moving :)

This chapter title meaning is here: "angelsarewatchingoveryoudean . tumblr post/59131886328/a-broken-hallelujah-on-the-other-side"


.

.

Chapter 2

On the other side

.

.

.

It had been five days since they have decided to not finish the trials, Sam was still dying and they weren't any step closer to finding a cure. Cas was still adjusting to being human, he still used Dean's clothes, and so far the experience of being someone of a different species hadn't been pleasant. Dean wasn't the best of companies to have around, it was understandable but still. Castiel had observed and marveled at humans for a long time. But now that he was one, and whose experience as such was to spend all day long between books, reading at an infuriating rate, where he had to stop to go to the toilet, to eat or just because he felt too tired, he couldn't remember what he had liked so much about humans.

Sometimes, when he looked at Dean he could remember what he had loved about humanity. Why he had rebelled and sided with humans. However, when those green eyes looked at him, it was always the same, for a moment there was hope, like he had forgotten that he couldn't see Dean's soul anymore. So then came disappointment, and then, when that spark of love he thought he had seen in the other's eyes was gone, replaced by a harsh look, came anguish.

It wasn't that Dean was angry at Cas, he was just angry at himself as always. And seeing Cas was just a reminder of what a pathetic loser he was. How he broke everything he touched. Plus, every book he read without finding a solution, only added to his frustration. But Cas didn't know that, maybe only a bit, in theory. The limitation of his human body put him in a sulky mood where he couldn't appreciate the subtitles of Dean's character.

"This is pointless," he said after finishing what had to be the hundredth book, as human he couldn't remember the exact amount.

"Well, unless you can remember a way to undo what your lovely Father has done I suggest that you continue," said the hunter with a dry tone.

"I didn't say I was quitting searching," answered Cas angrily, "I was just trying to express how tired I was," he explained, "I'm going to make dinner," he finished getting up.

"What are you going to cook?" asked Dean, and that was his way of saying sorry for being an asshole.

"Something with pork, probably," was Cas answer.

"Okay," accepted Dean.

.

They ate in an almost silence. They barely talked a thing or two about the food. When it came to small talk, Cas wasn't the best. After dinner, the ex-angel went to his room to sleep, and Dean stayed in the main area. He wanted to find some peace of mind, so he reached to the kitchen cupboard where he had hidden all the alcohol that he had bought earlier –along groceries. The hunter didn't like Cas to see him drink, it scared him the possibility of the angel taking after him and him being the reason for his best friend to turn into the broken version of that future where Zachariah had sent him. So he waited for the fallen angel to not be around to lose himself in alcohol.

This time he had vodka. He thought for a second if he should bother to grab a glass, there was actually no real need for it as he was going to drink the whole thing. However, he ended up grabbing one anyway. He sat once more at the table and cursed himself, his life, everything.

He poured the vodka into his glass and then raised it into the air.

"God, if you're there somewhere, you go and fuck yourself," and he gulped down the whole drink.

He was reaching the end of the second glass, when he heard footsteps. Fuck, so Cas wasn't asleep yet.

"What are you doing up?" he reproached to the fallen angel.

"I was thirsty," explained Cas, "How much were you drinking?" questioned him the fallen angel pointing at the glass.

"Who cares?" was Dean dry answer.

"I do," said Cas, "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't care."

"It doesn't matter," continued Dean to not answer.

"It does," refuted Cas starting to get angry, "What would happen if your liver failed? I wouldn't be able to heal you. You'd die."

"Maybe that would be for the best," huffed Dean, "Anyways, that would be my friggin' problem."

"I don't see it that way," said Cas definitely angry now, "Sam needs you. I- I need you," he confessed, "Would you leave me here alone to take care of your brother, Dean?"

"Yeah, the stranded angel needs me to help him fit into society, well, sorry, little mermaid," he spatted, gulping down what was left of vodka in his glass.

"Dean..." warned him Cas.

As an answer, the hunter poured more vodka.

"Give me that," said the angel losing his patience and grabbing the glass in Dean's hand.

"No," exclaimed Dean holding hard the recipient.

They struggled for a few seconds, until Cas, who still couldn't full measure the strength of his body, applied more force than necessary. The glass shattered into a million pieces, many of them went flying around. But one of them, a big one, slashed Cas' hand. Red blood started flowing from the gash immediately.

"Damn it!" cursed Dean, taking the angel's hand between his, "Here, let me take care of that," he said dragging the fallen angel towards the kitchen.

"You see," said Cas while the hunter put his hand under the water stream, "I can't even cure something as simple as this. I cannot lose you, Dean."

The hunter raised his eyes from the wounded hand, and locked them with the blue ones from the fallen angel. He knew it, of course, there's so much an Angel of the Lord can do for you without you getting the message. But hearing the actual words...

Sadly, the adrenaline that he got when Cas accidentally cut himself, had cleared much of the buzz from his system. So his tongue and inhibitions weren't loosened enough for him to say everything that he wanted to say.

"Wait there," he said when he broke eye contact, "I'll grab the First Aid kit."

He bandaged the fallen angel's hand, and attempted to leave, but the ever lasting stare of Cas hold him in place.

"Dean," whispered the ex-angel.

"All right, all right," conceded Dean in defeat, "I won't drink again," he promised, "that much," he added under his breath.

"Dean!" exclaimed Cas who had heard him.

"Hey, there are so many things I'm willing to give up, and beer is not one of them," said the hunter on his defense raising his hands in the air.

The ghost of a smile appeared in Cas' lips.

.

By the next morning things hadn't looked up much. Yes, things with Cas were better, after last night there was a certain easiness, like they understood each other better, there was less of an edge. However, a solution for Sam still wasn't appearing. By midday, frustration was gaining the upper hand once more.

Dean was learning against a bookcase, reading another ancient book -the Men of Letters had a vast collection. When he reached the end of the book, and he was still as close to helping Sam as he was when he started, he slammed it against the bookcase.

"Damn it," he exclaimed, startling Cas.

Thanks to the movement a book that was lying on the top of the bookcase fell down, hitting the hunter in the head.

"Damn it," he cursed again.

Cas, who had gotten up to check upon Dean, stayed kneeled on the floor reading the book that had fallen.

"What are you doing, Cas?" asked the hunter once he noticed that the former angel hadn't got up.

"Look at how the book fell," said Cas, "it was opened at this page," he pointed.

"What does it say?"

Cas got up with the book and stared reading the text that had gotten his attention.

"The one who sacrificed everything once won't do it again. He needs the blessing of the Father, the tears will come from the tree of His flesh, and the tears shall be the blessing," he read, "And look, it has an enchantment written in Enochian."

"So do you thing this it?" asked Dean with a hint of excitement, he didn't want to let his hopes to get up, but it was too late.

"I think so..." said Cas in a whisper.

"And what about the tree?" inquired Dean.

"I don't know," answered the ex-angel, and he was truly sorry, "I know that the tears means that we need to get the nectar of the flower of the tree, but I ignore the species of the tree."

"Well, that's just great," grunted Dean, "So we're back to square one then."

"I apologize, Dean."

The fallen angel gave the hunter his best puppy-eye look, the worst past was that the damn bastard probably didn't even know he was doing it.

"No, Cas, damn it, sorry," begun to stutter Dean, "I didn't mean to bark at you. It's just- I can't- not anymore, Cas. I can't hold it anymore," he cried.

The former angel remained in silence for a few seconds. He wondered if he should blatantly lie and say that everything was going to be all right. Even though he had gotten better at lying compared to how he did it at the beginning, he decided against it. He didn't want to lie to Dean ever again, he still remembered all the damage that lying had brought to their relationship.

"I am here and I'll help you with it," he said.

Dean looked at his best friend in the eyes, tears shinning in his. He saw the sincerity in them and he found that which had brought them together in the first place those many years ago. The hunter smiled.

.

"Okay, Garth, call me if you find anything," Dean said before hanging up, "Nothing on here. You?" asked the hunter.

Cas extended his arms towards the man, holding the laptop in his hands.

"I can not make this device to cooperate with me," he said.

Dean took the computer and sat besides Cas. Gulping down, he ignored how Cas got extremely close to him so he could look at the screen too. After he unfroze the machine, he typed some keywords on Google, but the results he got weren't helpful at all.

"Try to be more specific," suggested Cas.

The hunter turned around when the other spoke and was startled by the close proximity of those blue eyes that stared at the most inner depths of his soul.

"Damn it, Cas! I'm a hunter, not a botanist," he complained.

"I know," replied Cas not catching the reference.

Dean just shook his head.

"Forget it," he said trying not to think how close those kissable lips were.

After several unsuccessful tries, Dean found what seemed to be a very complete glossary of all the species of trees of the world, he was about to close the tab but Cas stopped him.

"Something may trigger my memory," he explained.

So Dean left Cas with the computer, after all, now all he had to do was read and scroll down, and went to take out a couple of beers from the fridge. He returned to the table and offered one to the fallen angel. Cas looked at him doubtful.

"I don't know if it would be advisable for me to drink alcohol when I need the full capabilities of my vess- my brain," corrected himself Cas, and lowered his look at the full-on-the-face reminder of his humanity.

Doing human things with Dean was misleading. There were moments when he forgot about the Fall, about Purgatory, about most things and he was back to after he rebelled against Heaven and he was with Dean trying to teach him human things, like when he tried to get him laid. In those blissful moments everything was fine and felt right. It was these little reminders that ruined his mood and got him down.

"One won't hurt," said Dean offering him the bottle.

When Cas grabbed the bottle, he understood everything that Dean was not saying out load, it was in his eyes.

Half an hour had passed when Dean's phone rang.

"Hey, Garth," he answered, "Found anything?"

"Oh, yes," replied the other hunter, "I did."

"So, what's it?" asked Dean anxiously.

"First, let me tell you that what I did was genius. Hear me? G-e-n-i-u-s," bragged Garth.

"Okay, okay, you're a friggin' genius, now, spill," said Dean with little patience.

"Ibira pitá," said Garth.

"Eevy- what?"

"Ibira pitá," repeated the hunter, "it means red tree in guarani because of its red wood and pita in Assamese means father."

"The hell?"

"The blessing of the Father blah blah the tree of his flesh. Father, pita and his flesh red tree."

"Oh," said Dean, "are you sure is that one?" he added a little calmer now -and dumbfounded.

"Ask your angel," replied Garth.

"Cas, Ibira pitá means something to you?" asked the hunter.

The fallen angel remained silent for several seconds, thinking about it.

"Yes..." he finally said slowly.

"You're welcome," said Garth and hanged up.

It had been after two hours of intense research of somewhere to get the plant or the flower or the nectar or something, but as fate will have it, best result was a website that had a week of waiting for the delivery. The nerves were starting to get to Dean when there was a knock on the door. Massaging his temple, and gun ready in his back pocket, Dean went to open the door.

"Special fast delivery for Dean Winchester," said a mailman.

The hunter stayed shocked for some good ten seconds.

"Yeah, it's me," he said then.

"Sing here," instructed the mailman, once Dean signed it the man gave the hunter a small package, "Here you have. Have a good day, sir,"

The mailman went away whistling and Dean got back inside the the package in his hands. He showed it to Cas and opened it. There was a small card that read, "You owe me, -G" and a small flask with the inscription "Flower extract: Ibira pitá".

"We have it," whispered Dean.

"I'll perform the spell," said Cas taking the flask, "We're going to cure Sam, Dean, he's going to be all right."

Dean looked at him with tears in his eyes.

"I hope so," he said.

.

The were sit at both sides of Sam's bed. Dean had been instructed to not touch Sam till the spell ritual was done. So before Cas started with it, he whispered to his little brother.

"Hold on, Sammy, we're going to make you better," he said and Sam twisted on the bed reacting to Dean's voice, "Cas?"

"I'm going to proceed now," informed the fallen angel to the hunter, "This'll be over in a minute, Sam."

Opening the flask, he distributed some of the flower extract on Sam's forehead with his thumb, and started speaking in Enochian. As the spell progressed, Sam started shaking more and more. Finally, when Cas seemed to be over with the enchanting, the big hunter stopped trembling abruptly and laid lifeless on the bed, as if he was dead.

"Cas! Is he okay?" but the ex-angel remained in silence, "Cas!"

The angel's suddenly extended arm stopped him from touching his brother. The spell was not over apparently. Cas said a last word in Enochian and threw the rest of the flask's content over the sick hunter's face.

Sam gasped.

"Sam!" screamed Dean, grabbing his brother who had arched in the bed.

"Dean?" asked the hunter sitting up with his brother's help, he was confused, like he was coming back from a long half-sleep state where somethings happened around him in a blur.

"It's all right, Sammy, you're fine now," Dean comforted his brother.

"What-? Ho-?" said the youngest man taking in his surroundings, and then he noticed the fallen angel sitting at his side, "Cas?" he asked confused, because why he wasn't wearing his trenchcoat? And where those his brother's clothes?

"Yes, Sam, it's me," answered the ex-angel calmly.

"What-? Oh," he said as the memories came back to him, and now everything made sense.

He remembered his brother holding him while they saw the angels fell, about him crashing down at the Bunker's door, a faint memory of his brother screaming his name, putting him in bed, feeding him, about Cas feeding him, the fallen angel and Dean giving him a bath...

"You took care of me," he said to both of them, "Thank you."

"Well, if you want to thank us then next time you want to close the gates of Hell on your own, don't. Or I'll kill you, bitch," reproached him Dean.

"No, you won't jerk," laughed Sam, pulling his brother for a hug.

Time later, after he was dressed and had eaten something, Sam approached Cas.

"Thank you for taking care after me, Cas, really," he said, "you didn't have to."

"Sam Winchester, you're my friend," begun Cas, "you don't have to thank me..." he trailed off, "Besides I- I owe you. For what I have done to you."

"For what you've- Wait" Are you talking about the thing with the Wall?" Sam inquired him, when the fallen angel gave him the affirmation by remaining silent, the hunter continued, "Then no, Cas. You don't owe me anything. That's done and gone and it's in the past, okay?"

Cas stared at Sam in the eye, making sure that the man was truly forgiving him.

"Okay," he said when he was sure.

Then Cas gifted Sam one of his barely-there smiles. Sam smiled back with a huge grin, he knew that these smiles were mostly for Dean, so he truly appreciated it. Patting the fallen angel on his shoulder, he went to get his laptop.

"Dean! What have you done to my computer?!" he shouted angrily.

"Hey, it wasn't me!" shouted back Dean from one of the rooms of the Bunker, "It was Cas!" he accused.

"Cas!" complained Sam, and started the slow task of repairing his computer.

.

He was getting old for this stuff, thought Gregory, if he didn't know that the only way to leave the hunter job was with his flesh burning in a bonfire, he would have hung the towel a long time ago. He wouldn't complain though, at least this time his job didn't require running, blood or anything like that. It was just about taking a few people that at first sight just seemed crazy and give them a place to live. A damn ex-angel asylum. When Garth first called him and told him everything he thought that the boy had gone nuts besides just dumb. However after meeting the first few fallen angel, he changed his mind. They were human, but there was just something about them that spoke about the power they once had. And if a hunter knew something, was to trust his guts.

"All right, pal," he said to the newest angel that had found, "you should be fine here. It's not a five-star hotel, but at least you have beds a shower room and there are others like you," he said.

The fallen angel, an apparently Indian man in his thirties, remained in silence. Gregory sighed, and led to the old storage room, now filled with beds, where the other angels where.

"Here," he said and opened the door.

The room had five others supposed angels. The new guy looked around him suspiciously, now he couldn't tell between friend and foe. He might had met these angels before but he couldn't know it now. If he did knew them, it hadn't been recently as he didn't recognize any of the vessels that were now their bodies. Only after Gregory closed the door, one of them, a forty something year old woman, spoke.

"Who are you?" she said in Enochian.

"Immanuel," he answered smiling in Enochian too, good way of testing if he was truly an angel.

"Hi, Immanuel," she greeted him, "I'm Elisheva."

"Elisheva..." he whispered, she was well known in his garrison, she was to be respected.

"I hope that you don't take this personal," she stated, "but we need to know where your loyalties are," her tone was gently, but Immanuel could recognize the threat in her voice.

"I can't stand this mud-monkeys," he confessed, "treating me like their equal. I just want to kill them."

"We will, my dear, but not yet," smiled Elisheva, "so far we need them until we can learn to go unnoticed by the humans. And then," she said, and suddenly her smile was gone and all the hate she had came through her face, "we need them to tell us where the Winchesters are."

"The Winchesters?" Immanuel asked confused, "Why would we want anything to do with them again?"

"Because," said Elisheva slowly, "Castiel will surely be with them."

"Oh," exclaimed Immanuel, and a dangerous spark appeared in his eyes, "Good."

"Come we have a surprise for you," she said, now speaking in English.

Elisheva led Immanuel through the beds towards the end of the room, in the last one, a red haired woman was sat. Her eyes stared at nothing and she seemed to be whispering something to herself.

"Who's she?" he asked, something akin to fear and disgust in his face.

Elisheva got close to the woman and spoke into her ear with the sweetest and scariest voice she had.

"Naomi, why don't you say hello to our brother Immanuel?"

Naomi didn't seem to have heard her.

"What happened to her?" asked Immanuel scared.

"Metatron messed with her before the Fall," explained Elisheva, "She isn't very useful now. Save when she speaks," and the angel's creepy and evil smile returned to her face, "Oh, she is so useful when she speaks. And always cooperative, aren't you, darling?"

Immanuel knew then that even if he didn't want to it was best for him to always please Elisheva.

"So what are we going to do?" he asked.

"First, we find the Winchester and Castiel and then we torture Castiel through her weakest point. He will pay for his action with that he loves the most," said Elisheva, "The Winchester's death will be slow and painful."

.

.

.

.

.

.


Okay.
First, I hope that you noticed the little foreshadowing I did. There were three things that happened that are forshadowing. If by any chance you tell me what they were, I'll give you a cookie.
Second, this chapter ended more on the happy side that what I originally intended. However, things will get darker.
Third, the angel's names were based on Manuel and Isabel, (I choose them because of the -el) and what you have is the original Hebrew name.
Fourth, about the tree. I didn't want it to be a tree that is in latin america, specially in Argentina, something that you may understand why after reading next chapter.
Fifth, I fell asleep and I'm posting this in the morning.