A/N: Thank you to everyone who's continuing to read and review! It really makes my day. ^_^

Chapter 4

Castiel blinked groggily as a current of foreign grace trickled through his vessel, suffusing healing into the abused body and dragging him back to consciousness. Zachariah removed his hand from Castiel's forehead, mouth pursed in a disappointed moue.

"It's no fun if you keep passing out," the angel said.

Castiel's head hung heavily, chin down so that he could see the jagged, bloody lines carved into his borrowed flesh. No, not borrowed anymore. Jimmy's soul had left this body when Raphael had destroyed Castiel, and his inexplicable resurrection had not returned the poor man to his mortal shell. It'd become Castiel's more and more since he'd been cut off from Heaven. And with each sigil Zachariah cut into him, chiseling out the last of Castiel's grace chink by chink, he became more fully anchored to this vessel, his true form whittled down to raw, ragged fragments. Which meant he was now susceptible to things like blood loss.

Zachariah tutted in mock sympathy. "You're becoming more and more human with each step, Castiel. Not pleasant, is it? Being reduced to a pathetic, weak, maggot. That's what you rebelled for. And now you'll end up worm food, just like the rest of the hairless apes."

Castiel didn't respond, too focused on maintaining the shallow breaths his vessel seemed to require at the moment.

"You're a son-of-a-bitch, you know that?" a different voice spoke up. Adam. Castiel had forgotten the boy was still there. "I thought angels were supposed to watch over people? But you're just monsters."

Zachariah turned slowly to face the human, who was sitting against the wall. "I'm sorry, did the maggot have something to say?" He gestured sharply, and Adam lurched forward to retch up more blood. "Yeah," Zachariah said. "Didn't think so."

"He's right," Castiel managed to rasp. "We…we were supposed to protect humanity, not…not destroy them."

Zachariah rolled his eyes. "Hey, you win some, you lose some. You and the Winchesters are the ones sacrificing everyone by denying destiny. But that's about to end. Dean's on his way and if he was waffling about saying yes before, he won't be now. Not with one brother in my grasp and the other not far behind." Zachariah grinned and picked up his angel blade again. "Now, where were we?"

Castiel didn't have the strength to brace himself for the pain as Zachariah once again began carving a sigil into his skin. Another piece of his grace cracked and burst, like a tendon snapping in half. It hurt worse each time, and Castiel lost track of how many times Zachariah partially healed his vessel just so Castiel could be conscious for each and every piece of his essence the higher ranking angel chipped away.

It seemed to be an endless loop that repeated over and over again for an eternity before Castiel sluggishly roused to find Zachariah buttoning up his blood stained shirt.

"Dean should be getting close now," the seraph said conversationally. "So I've got to get things ready."

Castiel tipped his head back with a low moan. His chest felt as though it was on fire, while his core felt like solid ice, the warmth of his essence, his grace, completely gone. When Castiel instinctively stretched his senses to try and reach it, he found nothing but a frigid void. Zachariah hadn't left a single speck.

"Buck up, sport," the other angel continued, patting Castiel's shoulder. "You'll get to see Dean one last time. Well, as Michael, that is. Don't know if he'll want to snuff you out himself or make you watch the big prize fight, but that's above my pay grade."

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut against a swell of despair and devastation. Adam had it right; angels were not as they should be. Their capacity for cruelty equally matched the demons they stood in direct opposition against. In some ways they were worse.

Zachariah raised his hand to snap his fingers, and Castiel's world dissolved into darkness.

Dean pulled up along the outskirts of the abandoned muffler factory that apparently belonged to the address he'd been given. He and Sam had driven nonstop and arrived the following afternoon. Neither would be at the top of their game going in, having only caught snatches of sleep between driving shifts, emotions and nerves frayed. Dean knew he needed a clear head if he was going to get out of this…but who was he kidding? There was no clear head when it came to his family being threatened.

Sam gazed out the windshield. "The beautiful room's in there?" he asked dubiously.

"Guess so." Dean put the car in park and shut off the engine. "Ready?"

Sam withdrew an angel blade and nodded staunchly. "You?"

A muscle in Dean's jaw ticked. Hell yes he was ready. Ready to finally give that bastard Zachariah everything the dickbag had coming to him. "Yeah."

They both exited the car and cautiously approached the old, dilapidated building. Sam hung back, as per the plan. Zachariah thought he had the trap baited and set, and Dean planned to waltz right in, let the smarmy dick think he'd won before ripping it all out from under him.

But then, when did anything for the Winchesters ever go according to plan?

Dean slowly made his way through the empty factory toward a small office in the back. He paused with his hand on the knob, exchanged one last look with Sam, and then pushed the door open. He immediately found himself in the same beautiful room he'd been held in before, back when he thought his role as the 'Righteous Man' actually meant something good. But to his chagrin, the only person he spotted was Adam.

The kid was slumped on the floor against the back wall, chin stained red with blood. Son-of-a-bitch, Dean was going to make Zachariah pay. But where the hell was Cas? There weren't any other doors leading to additional rooms. Dammit, Dean needed to get them both out, but he couldn't dawdle, and so would have to deal with Adam first.

"Adam, hey. Hey." Still on guard for an angel to leap out at him, Dean crossed the room. His heart stuttered at the sight of blood on the floor, and a set of empty chains hanging from the wall where he remembered an ornate painting had been before. Had that been where…? Dean wrenched his gaze away and hurried over to kneel beside Adam.

The kid jerked awake with a gasp, eyes wide and bewildered. "You came for me," he blurted.

Dean pulled one arm over his shoulder to haul him up. "Yeah, well, you're family."

"Dean," Adam grunted. "It's a trap."

"I figured," he responded, bracing Adam against him. They turned toward the exit, only to find Zachariah standing in their way.

"Dean, please," the smarmy angel grinned. "Did you really think it would be that easy?"

Dean stared back at him, cold and unwavering. "Did you?"

Sam swept inside, angel blade raised. Yet an instant before he could drive it into Zachariah's back, the angel spun, blocked the blow, and swung Sam's arm down to knock against the table. The angel blade clattered to the floor. With a flick of his hand, Zachariah then sent Sam flying backward into a lattice screen where he crumpled to the floor.

"Sam!" Dammit, that had been their one shot at the element of surprise. Dean thought about lunging for the angel blade himself, but he was still supporting Adam.

Zachariah turned back to face them. "You know what I've learned from this experience, Dean?" He paused for a beat. "Patience." Without breaking eye contact with him, Zachariah waved his hand toward Adam, who suddenly doubled over as fresh blood started gushing from his mouth. Dean tried to brace him, but the kid dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach in abject pain.

"Adam?" Dean whirled back toward Zachariah. "Let him go, you son-of-a-bitch."

"I mean, I thought I was downsized for sure," the angel said, ignoring him. "And for us, a firing…pretty damn literal." He chuckled and leaned back to recline against the table. "But I should have trusted the boss man. It's all playing out like he said… You, me, your hemorrhaging brothers." He turned his fist back toward Sam, who curled in on himself and started coughing up blood.

Dean's jaw clenched. This was not how he wanted it to go.

"You're finally ready, right?" Zachariah asked, standing up again and boring his eyes into Dean.

His heart hammered in his rib cage as he glanced back and forth between his two brothers. Dean couldn't let them down. Didn't want to let them down. There was still a way out of this…and he was gonna take it.

"You know there's no other choice," Zachariah pressed earnestly. "There's never been a choice."

"Stop it," he whispered, then stronger, "Stop it right now!"

Zachariah paused. "In exchange for what?" he asked expectantly.

Dean shook his head, voice strained with emotion. "Dammit, Zachariah. Stop it, please." His jaw quivered. "I'll do it," he muttered. His gaze met Sam's, who was gaping at him in stunned disbelief. Dean wished he could tell his little brother everything would be okay.

Zachariah lifted a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry. What was that?"

Dean's throat constricted. He could do this, had to… "Okay, yes. The answer is yes."

Sam's expression went slack with horror. "Dean."

Dean ignored him, couldn't be distracted by the disappointment in his eyes. "Do you hear me?" he continued. "Call Michael down, you bastard!" Dean glanced at Adam, whose gaze was pleading more than anything else as he choked on his own blood. Just hang on, Dean silently urged.

Zachariah still seemed skeptical. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"Do I look like I'm lying?" Dean snapped. He met the angel's stare head-on. This was it, his last card to play. Time to make it count.

Zachariah blinked back what looked like close to ecstatic tears as he turned and began speaking something in Enochian, probably to summon the archangel. Though the words were gibberish, the low, guttural tone sounded like a death chant right before a human sacrifice. Dean's gaze drifted to Sam's then, his little brother writhing in pain. Yet despite that, Sam's expression held only confusion. He still believed Dean wouldn't do this, wouldn't say yes, despite all obvious evidence to the contrary. Dean found himself momentarily in awe of his brother's faith. And it gave him the strength he needed to stand firm.

The room started to vibrate.

"He's coming," Zachariah said.

Sam stared at Dean in question…and Dean winked, finally allowing his facade to crack. Zachariah thought he'd won; he was in for a rude awakening.

Dean flicked his attention back to the angel, demeanor staunch and resolute like he'd flipped a switch. "Of course, I have a few conditions."

Zachariah turned back around, for the first time looking taken aback. "What?"

"The few people whose safety you have to guarantee before I say yes."

The angel shrugged. "Sure, fine. Make a list."

"Sam and Adam get to walk out of here—with Cas."

Zachariah blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Dean said. "I want Cas. Now."

Zachariah didn't respond for a prolonged beat, but then his lips twitched. "Fine. I was done with him anyway." The angel snapped his fingers, and there was a puff of air as Castiel appeared, only to immediately collapse face first in a heap.

"Cas!" It took every ounce of Dean's strength not to rush to the angel.

Sam, however, crawled the few feet across the floor to reach Castiel and turn him over. His clothes were oddly intact, given the length of torture Dean had imagined based on the phone call. But then he noticed the blood seeping through the dress shirt. Dean's hands furled into fists.

"There, now everybody wins," Zachariah said.

Sam shot his brother a look bordering on panic, and it broke Dean's heart to see a flicker of doubt.

"I'm not finished," he said, voice low and dangerous. "Most of all…Michael can't have me until he disintegrates you."

Zachariah quirked a bemused look. "What did you say?"

"I said…" Dean took a step closer. "Before Michael gets one piece of this sweet ass…he has to turn you into a piece of charcoal."

Zachariah let out a disbelieving laugh. "You really think Michael's gonna go for that?"

"Who's more important to him now? You…" Dean cocked his head. "Or me?"

Zachariah surged forward and grabbed a fistful of Dean's shirt. "You listen to me. You are nothing but a maggot inside a worm's ass. Do you know who I am?" He gave Dean a rough shake, but the hunter didn't even flinch. "After I deliver you to Michael?"

"Expendable," Dean spat.

Zachariah snorted. "Michael's not gonna kill me."

"Maybe not." But then, that'd been Dean's hope from the beginning. He slipped out his angel blade, ready to savor this moment. "But I am."

He rammed the blade up through Zachariah's chin into his skull. The angel's mouth flew wide with a startled gasp as light started bursting out of it and his eye sockets. His garbled cry and swelling nova added to the vibrations already shaking the room, and then he exploded, throwing Dean back against the wall. The room kept shuddering violently, even though Zachariah's body now lay sprawled out, arching, blackened wing prints seared across the wall and floor.

An ear-piercing noise descended from above, along with growing white light. Okay, maybe Dean hadn't thought that one quite all the way through. Story of his life.

Dean scrambled to Adam and pulled him up. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, come on." Dean ran to Sam and Cas next. Sam coughed as he attempted to haul Castiel off the floor. The angel was completely out, leaving him a dead weight in Sam's arms. Dean ducked in to help. They dragged Cas to the door, and Dean tossed a frantic look over his shoulder at Adam, who was gaping at the glowing ceiling. "Come on, move it!"

They stumbled outside, Dean struggling to keep both Cas and Sam upright. He didn't hear the door slam behind them over the increasing jet engine, but then Adam's shouts broke through.

"Help! It won't open!"

Dean let go of Cas, the unconscious angel and Sam basically falling to the ground together, and turned back. Light was blazing through the cracks in the shanty, and when Dean grabbed the doorknob, it seared his skin. He jerked his hand away, staring helplessly as Adam kept yelling for help. For Dean.

He tried pushing against the door again, but it sizzled upon contact. "Hold on, we'll get you out! Just hold on!"

Adam had stopped shouting.

"Adam! Can you hear me?"

The light slowly began to fade, fizzling out until the warehouse grew dark, still, and silent. Dean approached the door again, rapidly tapping the knob to see if it still burned. "Adam?" He burst inside, only to find a ransacked, abandoned office. Adam was gone.

Dean simply stared. Had the kid been vaporized, or…had Michael settled on second fiddle after all? Either way, Dean had failed to save him. He looked over his shoulder at Sam and Cas. Sam was half-sprawled on the ground, one arm still clutching his stomach while the other supported Cas's head. Two out of three, Dean thought bitterly. Was that what this whole fight would be? Who else would he have to lose before it was over?

"Dean," Sam gasped, pushing himself up straighter with a grimace. There was an urgency in his gaze, and Dean had to acknowledge that they needed to get out of there before the angels came back. Before Michael…

Dean swallowed hard as he reluctantly turned his back on the office. It felt like turning his back on Adam. But the kid was beyond help now, and Dean still had two others to look after.

He helped Sam get his feet again, then the two of them hauled Cas up. Dean hated how hurt the angel looked, and wished he could kill Zachariah all over again. But Cas was alive and back with them, and that was something. The angel would recover.

They staggered outside to the Impala where they deposited Cas in the backseat before the brothers slid into the front. Dean started the engine and gunned it out of there.

A/N: I know some of you were hoping Zach would suffer a lot more before he died, but I feel like the canon version was quite powerful.
Okay, here's the plan: Wednesday I'm posting another 11x18 tag, but it's a lengthy two-shot. So I'll post its second half on Friday instead of this story, which means the next chapter for this will post next Monday. It's not the worst cliffhanger I could leave you with for a week, though Dean is wrong that Cas is gonna be okay... ;)