It had felt good to Dean, being able to let himself go like that last night, if only for a little while. But now Team Free Will had more pressing concerns to deal with, namely the legion of angels that had fallen from the sky. The trio had decided to track down any of the fallen angels they could find, seeking answers about how to restore the angels to their rightful place and close the gates of heaven.
Sam and Dean sat down across from each other at the small table, debating their next move, as they had done many times before when preparing to hunt supernatural beings. This time, Castiel lingered nearby, sitting on the couch and listening to their conversation.
"I've got it," said Sam eagerly, "there's something we can try. It's going to take some time, but I know there's a spell we can use to find angels on earth. And we have just what we need for it too. We need an angel who's lost their grace." He looked pointedly at Castiel, who fixed his gaze off somewhere in the distance in embarrassment.
"I'm afraid I won't be of any use," said Castiel, sadly, "my abilities as a human are greatly reduced from my abilities as an angel."
"You're still just as important as you were before," reassured Dean, "and you can still help us. It's just that you're different now." He turned back to his brother, trying to hide his bashful look with a more serious, skeptical one. "What's the catch, Sam?" he asked. "There's always a catch with this kind of thing."
Sam pawed through the book in front of him, and then stopped when he saw that he was at the right page. "There's no catch, Dean," he said, "but it does say here that there's one other thing we need to complete the spell first."
"Oh yeah? And what would that be?"
Sam stared at him from across the table. "We need someone who has the mark of an angel. We need you, Dean."
"The mark of an angel?" sputtered Dean, who was clearly confused. "What kind of nonsense-"
"I understand," put in Castiel, and turned to Dean before he could continue speaking. "In certain cases once a human has been touched by an angel, the human in question can be placed under the charge of the angel. A mark is left at the point of contact to seal the bond and make it permanent."
As if in answer, the handprint burned into Dean's shoulder that served as the only reminder he wanted to have of the months he'd spent in hell so long ago began to throb. In that instant, he understood.
"Cas," he said, "can I talk to you for a second?"
Sensing that his brother was in one of his moods, Sam got up and left the room, with the excuse of not feeling very well. This earned him several concerned looks from Dean, but Sam brushed it off and wished them luck, with a slight smirk on his face. Seconds later, when they were alone, Dean glared at Castiel.
"All this time and you never told me I'm bound to you for life?" he said, voice raised slightly. "I never asked for this, Cas."
"I never said you did," said Castiel defensively, "but Dean, please listen to me. It was the only way I could get you out; I didn't have a choice either. I'm sorry if you feel that way, I just...thought you'd feel differently about it."
"I don't mind that part," said Dean, "it's just that I wish you'd told me sooner. You know you don't have to keep any secrets from me."
Cas looked over at the open book on the table, which was right where Sam had left it. "Are you sure you want to do this, Dean?" asked Castiel.
Dean had a determined look in his eyes. "Yeah," he said, "now come on; help me out here, Cas. I can't do this on my own."
The ancient, foreign words of the spell rolled off of Dean's tongue easily as he read from the book in front of him. He stood with Cas in a room that they had deemed fit for the casting of the spell. In that moment, with Castiel by his side, Dean felt the familiar cocky confidence he felt whenever dealing with the supernatural. But this time he felt it even more strongly, as if their strange bond was somehow amplifying his feelings.
Suddenly, Cas let out a soft gasp before his eyes went wide and he crumpled to the ground, holding his head as strangled cries left his throat. Dean stopped mid-chant, glanced over at him worriedly and upon instinct moved closer and bent down to where the fallen angel lay. Castiel's eyes were becoming glassy, his face nearly frozen into a contorted mask of what seemed to be pain.
"Cas? Are you alright? Talk to me, buddy! No, no, I can't lose you..."
"Dean," said Castiel, his teeth clenched in pain, "it hurts...make it stop..."
Dean began to panic. "Cas? I...I'm so sorry..."
Castiel lay still for a moment, then another, then several more before his eyes fluttered closed. A bit shakily, Dean reached out towards the former angel, not wanting to believe that his worst fears had finally come true.
Finally, Cas opened his eyes again. Dean immediately beamed and reached his arm out towards Castiel. To his surprise, a strong hand gripped his arm tightly as Castiel sat up.
"Cas?" questioned Dean. "Did the spell work? What-"
"It did," said Castiel, "but...you're not going to like this, Dean."
Dean looked at Castiel curiously. "Why not? What are you talking about?" he asked.
"The angels...they're angry at me for what I've done. There's nothing more we can do."
"Are you sure?" asked Dean. "There has to be something..."
"There is one thing that I learned, though," said Cas, "my grace was the final element needed to open the gates of Heaven."
"So you're telling me that was why Metatron took it in the first place?" asked Dean.
"Yeah," said Castiel, firmly. "I learned it from the other angels."
Dean suddenly grew tired. He knew that that night, he and Sam would have to brush up on their research about the fallen angels and
how to send them all back to heaven, not to mention keep them there, where they belonged. Normally this wouldn't have bothered him, but Dean had realized that he would rather spend the night making sure that Castiel was okay after the trauma the spell must have caused him.
