A/N: I feel just awful that I haven't updated this in a long time. I'm so sorry guys :( I had plans for where I wanted to take this story; it just wasn't playing out the way I wanted it to.

Please enjoy :)

The drive lasted no longer than an hour before the stupid, noisy, teal blue car pulled through the trees and left them all in a clearing of a small house. It looked about the size for three, maybe four people, and Castiel found himself wondering just what the brothers did.

Sam pulled the green duffel bags out from the back of the car and then, after slight hesitation, opened the angel's door. "You okay?" he called to Castiel. "You look slightly lost."

Castiel turned his eyes on the taller of the men, studying Sam's features. Although Sam's face was firm and steady, he looked tired and worn out, even stressed. "Something is bugging you," he stated matter-of-factly. "You are stressed and tired."

Dean turned and looked back at them, appearing confused himself at this new news. Sam just chuckled and replied, "Jobs will do that to you, Cas. Come inside; we have much to tell you."

Castiel slowly got out of the car and used the tip of his sneaker to burrow slightly into the mud. He had never really been anywhere besides the bar. He had never seen an area like this, for as long as he could remember. The slamming of the car door broke him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Sam shrug at him and motion him onward.

Castiel turned and followed Dean as the older brother made his way towards the house. The wood was painted a dark shade of brown; the roof even darker. It was perched on top of a slant, remaining upright and groaning at the slightest breeze. The trees around them creaked as they shifted; the whispering leaves a telltale sign of some wind.

Dean opened the door and gestured towards Castiel. The angel slowly stepped past Dean and walked into the entry way. The door lead instantly into an open room, containing a counter, sink, refridgerator and, farther back, a small table, couch, and TV. Sam and Dean followed him inside, Sam shutting the door and making his way over to the table to dump the bags on top.

"Do you live here?" Castiel couldn't help blurting as he stood in the entry way, unsure of what to do.

Dean chuckled softly. "Sort of. It's our friend's house. He no longer lives here, so we sort of took it from him. It's kind of like a retreat place, somewhere where we can stay if we need to."

"Oh." That made sense... Sort of.

"You can come in and sit down," Sam called to the angel, forcing Castiel to look up. "You don't have to just stand there."

"Yeah, Cas, buddy," Dean agreed as he reched into the refridgerator and pulled out three beers, one which he tossed across to Sam, who caught it with ease, and another which he held out to Castiel. "This is sort of your place now."

Castiel was slow to take the beer, but he supposed that this couldn't hurt him. Sam and Dean both managed to twist their tops off and took simultaneous sips. Castiel looked down at his drink and twisted his off, noticing that his came off a lot simpler than what the others had made it look like.

But looking down at the bent and misshaped cap in his hand, he realized finally that he might possibly be a little stronger than he realized. He slipped the cap into the trench coat pocket and took a long sip.

It left him gagging and coughing as the burning liquid sizzled down his throat. He practically spit the rest out onto the wooden floors of the house. Dean was at his side in an instant, thmping his back gently and laughing as he joked, "Don't choke on the liquor, Cas."

Sam wandered over, worry evident on his features, like it was well hidden on Dean. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Castiel straightened, struggling to breathe, and looked at the disgraceful brown bottle. "What is... this?"

Dean laughed harder. "It's alcohol, Cas. Didn't you ever sneak some working at that bar?"

"No..."

Sam glared at Dean. "Would you like some water, Cas?"

Slowly, still choking, the angel nodded and followed Sam to the refridgerator, where he handed him an unopened water bottle. "This'll taste better, I swear," the younger Winchester promised.

Castiel took the water and sat down on the couch. At first, it seemed lumpy and uncomfortable, but he grew settled to it and slowly sank back into it and watched the brothers walk around and work on whatever it was that they did. Closing his eyes, he couldn't help but listen in to their hushed conversation.

"I found something," Sam said quietly. "Northern Minnesota: couples hiking go missing."

"What are you thinking?" Dean replied, sitting down across from Sam. "Maybe vampires?"

"I was leaning more towards wendigo," Sam shrugged, flipping some loose hair off of his face. "Possibly an evil demon, who knows? There's nothing more here, besides the fact that the bodies never turned up anywhere."

"So, wendigo, then," Dean sighed and leaned back. "Should be simple."

"But what are we going to do about him?" Sam hissed, and Castiel knew that the conversation had drifted towards the fact that he was with them now.

"He's an angel," Dean responded. "He can fend for himself, Sammy."

"He doesn't even remember his first name, Dean. How can you be so sure that he'll remember how to use his powers? Or let alone what we're hunting?"

"He doesn't have to know anything," Dean responded. "We'll just tell him what we tell everyone else: that we're FBI agents and we're looking into something."

"I guess, but it's just that..." And then Sam trailed off. Castiel could feel the shift in attitude in the atmosphere. Suddenly, Sam was terrified and Dean was alert. Castiel opened his eyes and sat up, looking over at the pair.

Sam was sitting straight up at the table, eyes wide open and far away, as if he were seeing something that no one else could. Dean was alert, waving his hand in front of his brother's unmoving face. "Sam? Sammy?" he called, fear laced into his words. "Sam!"

Castiel could only watch with slight curiosity and a lot of confusion as Sam never responded, just kept staring off and flinching now and again, looking more scared than ever.

"Sam?" Dean called, loudly this time. "Is it Lucifer?"

Lucifer.

Castiel felt his body grow rigid and stiff. Suddenly, he could tell that he looked just like Sam did at the moment, but he couldn't tell why he was like this.

And then it all came to him.

Lucifer.

Lucifer.

Lucifer, the archangel, God's favorite. Father's favorite. Rebellious. Evil. Devil.

He was looking down as Michael warned him about the dangers. "There is an evil angel down there, Castiel. His name is Lucifer. He is the devil. He must never be released."

"Why?"

"Because if he were to be released, the world as you see it now would cease to exist."

Castiel's eyes flew open and he was left staring up not at Michael, but at Sam and Dean. Sam seemed to have snapped out of his trance and he was staring nervously down at the angel. "Cas?" he asked. "You with us?"

Castiel sat up, ignoring the now evident pounding in his head. Dean looked at him curiously. "Dude, Cas," he explained, relieved. "You scared us. You just collapsed and started twitching!"

Castiel ignored him. "Lucifer," he stated firmly.

Sam flinched and shut his eyes.

"What about Lucifer?" Dean asked stiffly.

Castiel looked at the both of them. "He's my brother," he said, and Sam and Dean looked at each other with wide eyes.

Thanks for all your reviews! In case you don't know what house I'm talking about, it's Bobby's replacement house, the one they're in after his burns down. I don't really remember where it was located or what it specifically looked like, so if it's different, I'm sorry.

Reviews? Love you all :)