Hey guys! This is a shorter chapter, and it's probably going to make you angry... but I promise, I'll make it up in the next one. Lots of good things planned for the future :) Thank you for all of the amazing comments on the story, I really appreciate the kind reviews! Enjoy!

Chapter 4

"This is getting ridiculous, Gabe. They're not even getting along anymore," Sam insisted in a hushed tone, leaning in close across the kitchen table. He motioned at his brother and Castiel, who were sitting rigidly on the couch in the next room, not speaking. "Look at them! Poor Cas, just give him his freaking grace back already. God knows I'd be sick of Dean after a few hours, much less days."

"All couples fight, Sammy." Gabriel wagged his finger in the hunter's face. "Just give 'em time."

"I'm not kidding, Gabriel." Sam's voice deepened and his hazel eyes darkened, warning signs to the archangel.

"Neither am I! Look, I'm trying to get them closer together, and dragging them apart because of a little tiff over Dean's alcohol issues isn't going to help."

"It's not a 'little tiff', they've been like this for the past two days! I swear, if you don't tell him by tonight, I will."

"What exactly do you want me to say? 'Oh hey, lil bro, I've been hiding your grace from you for the past week so you could get it in with Dean but since you've both got your heads too far up your asses to fuck already, I'll just give it back.' You see how ridiculous that sounds? I can't –"

"You what?"

Neither Sam nor Gabriel noticed the figure standing in the doorway of the kitchen until he spoke, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open in shock. The empty beer bottle dangled dangerously from Dean's tensed fingertips, threatening to slip through and shatter on the floor.

"Shit," Sam cursed under his breath, jumping up from his seat at the table and putting his hands up defensively. "Dean, it's not what you think –"

"It's not?" the older Winchester spat angrily. "Because what I think is that for some godforsaken reason, you're holding Cas's grace hostage. And I sure as hell hope I'm wrong about this part, but for a second it actually sounded like you were trying to set us up. With each other." He set his jaw and clenched his fists, his left hand gripping the beer bottle so hard Sam worried he would break it. "What the actual fuck, Sam."

"Dean, listen to me for a second, okay?" Sam rushed out. "I just wanted to... I didn't... I mean –"

"Sam had nothing to do with it," Gabriel suddenly announced, getting to his feet as well, waving an arm through the air and stepping in front of Sam. "It was all me. Swear."

"Why?" Dean's tone was low and even, but as Sam watched from over the archangel's shoulder, he knew it was just the calm before the storm.

"Because he's my little brother, and I'm allowed to pull shit like that," Gabriel chuckled easily, as if it was all a big joke and he wasn't about to be ruthlessly ripped to shreds by Dean any second. "Look, man, it's all for your benefit too, if you'd just –"

"Don't you dare tell me it's for anybody's fucking benefit!" Dean shouted, throwing the bottle at Gabriel's face with deadly accuracy, and it smashed into pieces against the archangel's cheek, leaving a tangle of red gashes. "Cas is in pain! I've been doing everything I can to help him, thinking you assholes were actually trying to help out too, but no, you're sitting in here playing fucking matchmaker instead! This isn't a game, okay? Cas is part of my family, and fuck all if you two are going to make his life a living hell for a couple of laughs, and your own fucking benefit!" He reached out and grabbed whatever was in his reach; a lamp, a couple of empty glasses, and a plate that still had pizza crust on it from a few nights ago, all of which crashed against Gabriel in quick succession during his rant.

Dean marched up and got right in Gabriel's face, staring down at him with fury burning in his bright green eyes. He was breathing heavily and his cheeks were flushed red with anger. "Give. Me. The grace," he hissed.

Gabriel just laughed. "Back off, pretty boy, you made your point. I'll give it to him myself."

"No!" Dean yelled, catching the archangel by the throat before he could move away, keeping their faces mere inches apart. "Give it to me, now!"

"Fine, fine, calm down," Gabriel relented, putting up his hands in surrender. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small glass cylinder on a chain, glowing dimly from within. "There, ya happy? Will you let me go now?"

Dean snatched the chain with his free hand, glaring at him mercilessly and tightening his fingers around the archangel's neck, though it had little to no effect except for a slight gagging sound that came from his throat. He then took a step back, but he didn't have any intention of just letting Gabriel go.

His arm trembled with effort to refrain from punching him; connecting his fist with the archangel's jaw would only result in a broken hand. Instead, he wheeled around and socked his brother in the face in one fluid motion, stunning both Gabriel and Sam, who doubled over from the impact and let out a pained groan.

Dean turned to face Gabriel and narrowed his eyes. "You stay away from Cas," he growled, "or I'll kill you." Glancing at his brother, he added, "Both of you."

The venom that dripped from his voice practically paralyzed Sam; he had never been on the receiving end of such fierce anger from Dean before, and he hoped never to experience it again. He had no idea when Dean had gotten so protective of Castiel, and it might have been endearing if it wasn't so completely terrifying.

Dean whirled around, grace in hand, and came face to face with a pair of startled blue eyes, filled with confusion. Castiel stood in the doorway of the kitchen, head cocked to the side.

"What is going on?" he asked in a low voice.

"Castiel, lemme explain," Gabriel started, but Dean cut him off.

"Shut the hell up!" he snapped. "You've done enough explaining."

"Dean, calm down," Castiel urged, placing a hand on his chest. Green eyes immediately flashed up to meet blue. "Tell me what happened."

"He had your grace the whole time," Dean cried angrily. "He was keeping it from you. And Sam knew about it, too!"

Castiel's eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand."

"Look!" Dean held up the small cylinder that contained Castiel's grace and thrust it into the angel's face. It looked like blue mist, swirling around and emitting a soft light.

It took a moment to sink in, but when it did, Castiel's eyes glazed over and his expression hardened, returning to the stoic look he always had as an angel but had somewhat lost during his short time as a human. He gently took the grace and cradled it in his palm.

In a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, he shattered the tense silence that had fallen over the room. "Gabriel... is this true?"

"I'm sorry, Castiel." There was no point in denying it, or explaining it; the archangel knew that his brother could forgive him, but only in time. Definitely not right now. And definitely not with Dean planted firmly by his side, seething with anger.

"That's all you have to say? You're sorry?" the older Winchester gritted through his teeth.

"I am too, Cas," Sam added, hand on his aching jaw. "I wish I knew how to explain, but we –"

Castiel raised a hand to silence him, but said nothing, just looked away and slowly walked out of the room. When the front door clicked shut, signaling his exit from the house, a collective breath was let out by all three men remaining in the kitchen. Dean shot an icy glare over at Gabriel and Sam before hurrying after him.

Gabriel turned to Sam, eying the blood on his mouth with concern. "You want me to fix that?"

"Nah, leave it," the hunter sighed. "Dean'll just get more mad if you mojo it away."

"More mad? Is that even possible?" the archangel scoffed.

"He has a right to be," Sam pointed out. "I knew it was a bad idea, and now that it's all out in the open... That was a pretty shitty thing to do," he admitted, looking at the ground and shaking his head.

"But now those two morons will never realize their undying love for one another," Gabriel groaned with a smirk.

"Gabe, shut up, this isn't a joke anymore!" Sam snapped impatiently. "Dean's pissed off, God knows how Cas has gotta be feeling right now, and to be honest, I feel pretty awful too. This was your stupid idea and now I'm stuck in the middle of it so I'm not really in the mood to laugh about it."

The words hit Gabriel hard, like a punch in the gut. He knew Castiel would forgive him, and Dean he couldn't really care less about, but Sam? He never meant to hurt Sam, and knowing that he had instantly made him more remorseful than he had been in his entire life. If he thought he needed to right this wrong before, it was even more urgent now.

"I'm gonna fix this," he reassured the hunter determinedly. "Don't worry. I made this mess, and I'm gonna clean it up."

"Cas... Cas, wait!" Dean called, running after his friend, who was walking quickly away from the house. He slowed down enough to let the hunter catch up, but he didn't turn around. "Are you okay, man?"

"Please leave, Dean," Castiel pleaded.

Dean placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back so they were face to face. When he saw the tear rolling down Castiel's cheek, his eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Cas... I'm so sorry."

Castiel closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath. "Don't apologize for something that isn't your fault."

"What can I do?" Dean asked, earnestly wanting to help in any way he could.

"Leave me alone," Castiel replied weakly, jerking his shoulder away and letting Dean's hand fall back to his side. He noted the look of hurt on the hunter's face, but saw him nod once in acquiescence and shut his eyes again, waiting until he heard footsteps crunching in gravel, creaking on the old wooden porch and then finally the front door of Bobby's house banging closed.

Dean leaned back against the door after he got inside, taking a deep breath and trying to calm his racing heart. He heard a faint shattering of glass and then saw the beginnings of a blinding light filtering in through the front windows before shielding his face with his forearm. By the time the light faded and he glanced back outside, Castiel had disappeared.

He ran a trembling hand through his hair. So many emotions were coursing through him, he couldn't even think straight. Red hot anger, confusion, loss, hurt, betrayal, all at once, clouding his mind and his vision. He was beyond furious with Gabriel and Sam, and Castiel was gone.

With a heavy sigh, Dean heaved himself up off the door and stumbled into Bobby's study to fetch the bottle of heavy duty whiskey the old man kept stashed in his cabinet. He slumped down in the chair and drank straight from the bottle, relishing the burn as the alcohol ran down his throat. Head leaned back against the chair, bottle settled securely in his lap, he set to work trying to forget how to feel anything at all.

A loud crash and the sound of swearing made Sam's head jerk up from where it rested on his arms. He rolled his eyes and stood up from his seat at the kitchen table, wandering over to the window and glancing outside. Barely visible through the darkness was a pair of jean-clad legs peeking out from underneath a beat up Chevy where Dean was hard at work. Sam tried to warn his brother that fixing up a car without any daylight wasn't such a great idea, but Dean brushed him off and continued on anyway.

It seemed as though that's all he had been doing since the fight; staying out in Bobby's salvage yard, tinkering with some piece of crap car, binging on beer and whiskey and whatever else he could get his hands on. Sam tried more than once to talk to him in the past three days, but Dean wouldn't have any of it. Instead he refused to acknowledge his brother's existence, focusing all his efforts on totaled cars and alcohol. Although Sam hated to see his brother running himself into the ground like that, he resigned himself to just letting the man have his way rather than pressuring him into a conversation; after all, he blamed himself for Dean's anger.

If Dean felt bad, Sam felt terrible. After the fight, both angels had disappeared, leaving the younger Winchester all alone and unable to handle the situation with Dean. He didn't have any kind of explanation that wouldn't just make everything worse, and besides that, he knew that keeping Castiel's grace hidden was a dick move even if it had been for a good reason. He just wished he knew how to get through to his brother and make him understand that he didn't have bad intentions; hell, it wasn't even his idea in the first place!

With a sigh, Sam turned away from the window and made his way downstairs to the panic room. He kicked off his boots and tugged off his jeans so he was just in boxers and a thin t-shirt. After a brief second of hesitation, he slid down onto his knees beside the bed and clasped his hands, lacing his fingers together. Eyes shut tight and brow furrowed, he bowed his head and strands of golden brown hair fell across his face.

"Gabriel... if you're listening, wherever you are... I need help, man. I don't know how to make this right. I..." He cleared his throat and desperately fought the tears that were threatening to escape from behind his closed eyelids. "Tell Cas I'm sorry. And whatever I need to do, I'll do it. I just want to fix this. I want... could you just... come back, Gabe. Please come back."

Sam choked out the last words before drawing in a jagged breath and wiping at his eyes. No wonder Dean teased him so much about being such a girl – he was crying over his own prayer. He rolled his eyes at himself as he stood to flick off the lamp and flopped down onto the bed, pulling the sheets over his broad shoulders and burying his face in the pillow. Thoughts of Gabriel dancing in clear ocean water, lounging on Bobby's couch, and gazing at him with honey colored eyes soothed him until sleep slowly took him over.

From a dark corner of the panic room, the archangel stood invisible, watching over his sleeping hunter. Not rushing to Sam's side at the first mention of his name, not holding him close and comforting him, not gently wiping his tears from his reddened cheeks, just standing there and watching and listening to that heartbreaking prayer had to be the hardest thing that Gabriel had ever done. He knew it was better this way, that he couldn't be there for Sam, not now, but it still pained him more than anything in his entire life.

Gabriel knew he was growing too attached. He needed to stay away, regain his composure, get himself under control. But as his hunter slept, he decided he could remain a little while longer to give them both a sort of peace, if only for a few short hours.

Dean slid out from underneath the car he was working on and wiped his greasy hands on his jeans before reaching for the bottle of whiskey by his feet. He hadn't stopped drinking in the past 72 hours, but rather than being completely shit-faced he was in more of a permanent drunken haze.

There was so much in his head to sort through that it overwhelmed him, so he just pushed everything to the back of his mind and busied himself with distractions. He knew he was going to have to face it all eventually, but he wanted to put it off as long as possible. So he avoided Sam at all costs, he fixed cars, and he drank.

Running a hand through his spiky hair, he got to his feet and stumbled a little in the direction of the house before leaning unsteadily against a busted up car door and doubling over, retching violently. After heaving up what felt like his entire insides, Dean wiped his mouth with his t-shirt and sank down to the ground, hanging his head between his knees.

He didn't hear the engine of the truck pulling into the yard, or the door slamming shut, or the heavy footsteps marching toward him. His head jerked up and hit the car behind him, hard, when he heard the gruff voice above him.

"What the hell happened to you?" Bobby asked incredulously, just the faintest trace of concern in his voice. He reached down and pulled Dean to his feet, steadying him with a calloused hand on the hunter's shoulder.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean slurred, attempting a smile.

The older man grimaced and tugged Dean by his elbow toward the house. "What, d'ya drink a whole liquor store? God dammit, I leave you kids alone for a week and you're a hot mess," he griped. "Where's Sam?"

"Sam," Dean scoffed. "Prob'ly stickin' his nose where it don't belong, s'what he's good at."

Bobby rolled his eyes and struggled up the porch steps and through the front door with Dean. "Better not puke on my floor, you hear me?"

Dean mumbled something unintelligible in response and Bobby tossed him down into a chair at the kitchen table, thrusting a glass of water and a couple of pills into his hands, which he downed quickly. He had barely finished the water before he was yanked up again and pushed toward the stairs. "Shower and sleep," Bobby commanded, eliciting another mumble from Dean.

The hunter slowly made his way up the stairs and into the bathroom, clumsily stripping out of his clothes and putting the water on, turning the nozzle to cold so he wouldn't fall asleep in the middle of his shower. He stepped in and hissed as icy droplets trickled down his bare skin, scrapping soap altogether and just standing under the spray until he felt the spinning in his head slow down a little.

Shivering, he turned off the water and reached for a towel, briefly rubbing it through his hair before wrapping it around his waist and padding into the makeshift bedroom. Without bothering with the lights, he tugged on a pair of sweatpants and tossed the towel into the corner, finally collapsing on the bed and rolling onto his back, stretching out his limbs and taking up the entire space. Tucking his arms behind his head and settling into the mattress, he hummed contentedly for a moment and felt himself beginning to drift off to sleep.

However, he was instantly jolted awake when a low, gravelly voice vibrated through the darkness.

"Hello, Dean."