SAVED TO SAVE

CHAPTER THREE

Castiel removed his hand and caught Sam as he toppled from the chair onto his knees. "He needs water."

"On it," Dean said, running to get a glass.

"Hush, Sam, I have you," Castiel said soothingly, touching Sam's forehead with two fingers and smiling softly at the involuntary gasp as all pain suddenly stopped all at once.

Dean returned and took over, holding Sam with one arm while feeding him the water with his other hand. After Sam had taken his fill and Dean had insisted on helping him back into the chair, Sam looked up at Castiel. "...well?"

Castiel sighed. "Your demonic source was telling the truth. You are, indeed, soulmates in the most literal sense of the word. You carry a tiny sliver of Dean's soul inside you, and there is some of your own soul missing to make room for it."

"That's why his personality has changed so much," Dean gasped, and Castiel nodded.

"But as to where the bit of soul removed to house the sliver from Dean has gone to?" Castiel shook his head. "I can't say."

"I can," Bobby said. "Like attracts like. Soul fragment's lookin' for somethin' familiar - sure bet it went almost immediately to where it would be most at home." He nodded toward Dean. "Inside there."

Both brothers frowned, then Sam spoke up. "But - he isn't any different. Not like I've been."

"Ain't he?"

"No," Sam said, shaking his head. "As a matter of fact, he's been more like himself since Cold Oak than I ever remember-"

"Boy's overcompensatin'. He can tell somethin's off, but he's denyin' it and acting like everything's just fine. Right, Dean?" Bobby asked pointedly.

Dean just swallowed.

Sam sagged deeper into his seat. "Oh...lovely."

Castiel looked from one to the other. "I must go speak to the B'Shain."

Bobby nodded. "Come back here soon as you have anything, okay?" Castiel nodded. "And, boy? Don't just be poppin' in." He tossed an old cellphone into Castiel's hands. "Call ahead."

"I will." And then he was gone.

SPN SAVED SPN TO SPN SAVE SPN

The next morning, the first words Dean heard when he woke were, "Soulmates, huh?"

He groaned and threw his hands over his face. "Sammy, I swear, if you don't shut up about that..."

"No, hear me out. I'm not talking some romantic bullshit or swearing undying fealty to you or any of that crap. But - dude - we literally - literally..." Dean could somehow sense Sam's head shaking. "Dean, we share a soul..."

Dean sighed and lowered his hands. "Yeah, Sammy. We share a soul. I've got some of yours inside me and you've got some of mine inside you and it's way too damned early to be thinking this damned deep before we've had a cup of coffee or even gotten out of bed so why don't you just drop it for awhile, huh?"

When there was no answer, he turned his head to find Sam staring at him with wide eyes and a lowered jaw. "What?" he demanded.

"Huh," Sam said, blinking and pulling up his jaw. "There's where the Ramblefish went. I was wondering why I wasn't rambling anymore."

Dean stared at him for a moment, then made a sound midway between a groan and a chuckle and got out of bed. "Forget it. Too early. I need coffee. Think Bobby'd mind if I hooked up an IV and mainlined some?"

Sam barked out a laugh. "Get downstairs, jerk! And don't forget to save some for me!"

"Bite me, bitch." But Dean was grinning as he headed down the stairs.

Some things truly never changed, and it felt good to just banter with his brother again.

He entered the kitchen to find Bobby sitting at the table with Castiel there. Dean blinked. "When'd you get here?"

"Just a few moments ago," the angel said. "I have news-"

Dean held up a hand. "Stop right there. I need coffee. I need a shower. I need Sam. I am not gonna stand here in my pyjamas and listen to what you found and then have to hear it again when you explain it to Sammy." He padded barefoot over to the coffeepot and poured two cups. He loaded one with three spoonfuls of sugar and enough milk to change it from dark brown to creamy tan. "Gimme fifteen."

With that, he headed back up the stairs.

Sam didn't even look up from the computer, he just held out a hand as Dean passed his coffee to him. "Thanks. Found us a possible hunt to tide us over until Castiel returns-"

"Scratch that. He's downstairs."

Sam looked up. "Yeah? What'd he say?"

"Nothin'. Too early, remember? Coffee, shower, dress, and we go down and hear it together."

Sam reached out and shut the laptop with a soft 'snick'. "Sounds like a plan to me."

SPN SAVED SPN TO SPN SAVE SPN

Coffee was downed in record time. Showers were taken at the usual speed. Because he took longer, Dean laid out Sam's clothes for him after he got dressed as a silent apology.

Once they were both all done in the bathroom and their caffeine levels had risen enough they were both fully coherent, the brothers headed back downstairs and found Castiel still sitting at the kitchen table.

Bobby was at the stove, finishing up a plate of pancakes. "Sit down and eat, boys."

Castiel looked up at him as the brothers sat. "But I thought we were going to talk."

"Trust me," Bobby said, "they can listen and eat at the same time. Go ahead, Feathers, start the story."

"My name is Castiel," the angel said. "Not Feathers."

"Fine," Bobby said as he put the pancakes and syrup on the table and swiped at Dean's hand as he tried to grab one before the plate had come to rest. "Whatever you say. Feathers."

"Don't feel bad," Sam smiled. "That's just Bobby's way. He calls us 'idjits' every day."

"I don't feel bad," Castiel replied, an eyebrow raising as Dean put a pancake on a plate and put syrup on it before sliding the plate to him. "And what am I to do with this?"

"Eat it," Dean said, his mouth full.

Castiel's head tilted in that strange, birdlike way. "But I have no need of-"

"Eat it, Feathers," Bobby interrupted.

"But I-"

Sam turned his head, looking him in the eyes. "Castiel. Eat it."

Castiel's jaw closed with near-audible click and he picked up his fork. A few moments later, they were treated to a soft smile. "This is pleasant."

Bobby nodded. "Glad you like my cookin'." He sat down and got himself a pancake off the stack.

After a few more moments of inhaling the stack, Sam asked, "So were you able to talk to the B'Shain?"

"I was, indeed," Castiel said before his tongue darted out - apparently without his conscious intent - to chase an errant drop of syrup that had tried to make a grand escape from the corner of his mouth. "I was most... disheartened... by their response."

"So it's no, then," Sam sighed, and the mood in the room plunged.

Castiel set his fork down onto his empty plate. "It's a... provisional ... no." He finished the mug of coffee Bobby had set at his place and - following Dean's example - used the back of his hand to wipe the liquid from his lips. "I am to return to them in a few days."

"Provisional?" Dean asked, frowning. "What's provisional about no?"

"The B'Shain feel that you are asking for their help out of ignorance. They wish you to be made aware of everything you are actually requesting of them. Once you know all the facts, you are to decide if this is still the course of action you wish to pursue. I will deliver your answer to them and everything shall move on from that point."

"Just answer this," Dean said, gesturing with his fork. "Am I gonna live and is Sammy gonna be able to stay with me?"

"If you go through with this plan with the B'Shain?" At Dean's nod, Castiel noded as well. "Yes."

Dean spread his hands. "Then I know all I need to know."

"The B'Shain feel otherwise, Dean," Castiel said patiently. "And that's why I'm here, now. I'm to make you aware of all the ramifications of this choice."

"Then make me aware of them," Dean said. "My decision won't change."

"I wouldn't be too sure," Castiel replied. "Tell me what you think you know."

Sam chuckled softly at that, and Dean glared at him before he began. "I know that they're the Removers and that they have the ability to make it so that I somehow survive the hellhounds and my contract. I don't know how."

"I have some theories," Sam said. "They can somehow mask Dean from the hellhounds. They can shield him or protect him."

"Except they're called Removers," Bobby put in. "So it stands to reason the B'Shain will somehow remove the contract from Dean."

"No," Castiel said. "They won't remove the contract from Dean. They will remove Dean from the terms of the contract."

Dean waggled his hand back and forth. "Same difference."

"No, Dean," Castiel said. "It isn't."

Sam's eyes went huge. "You're not talking about masking him or hiding him, are you?"

Castiel didn't answer.

"Castiel?" Sam demanded. "You're not talking about hiding Dean at all!"

Cobalt eyes locked onto jade as Castiel answered at last. "No. I'm not. They will not hide him from the hellhounds. They will remove him from their perceptions. Completely."

"Permanently?" Bobby growled.

"Yes," Castiel said, though his eyes didn't move from Dean's. "Permanently."

Bobby said, low and dangerous, "Get outta my house and away from my boys."

"Bobby," Dean snapped.

"Dammit, Dean, he's talkin' about killin' you!"

Castiel turned to look at Bobby. "I am not. The B'Shain are not going to kill Dean."

"Then what are they gonna do?" Bobby growled. "Because 'permanently' sounds an awful hell of a lot like killin'!"

"Dean," Castiel said, returning his gaze to the older Winchester, who now sat ramrod-straight in his chair. "The B'Shain do not intend to kill you or harm you in any way. They will merely remove you from the terms of the contract."

"How are they gonna do that, huh?" Dean demanded. "Hellhounds will be able to find me no matter where I am if this contract holds!"

Castiel shook his head. "No, Dean. Not everywhere."

Sam interrupted, "What do you mean?"

"The hellhounds will be able to find you anywhere on Earth that you go." Castiel's head tilted slightly. "So, the B'Shain intend to remove you from Earth."

CONTINUED...