Chapter Four

"An ass ended what?" Dean looks bewildered.

"An Ascended human," Castiel replies patiently.

"An Ascended human?" Dean repeats in frustration, "What the hell is an Ascended human?"

"A mortal, like you, who transcends and becomes a divine being," Castiel notices how uncomfortable Dean gets when he does not quite understand. He gets loud and repeats most of what Castiel says, next would be frowning, the disbelieving tone, and defensive sarcasm. These were not admirable traits but Castiel understands that sometimes humans have trouble assessing new information, especially if it is outside their sphere of knowledge or 'comfort zone' as he had heard Sam call it.

Dean folds his arms across his chest and frowns at Castiel. "Wait, you're telling me that us monkeys can become real boys? How is that even possible?" Dean's tone is incredulous.

Castiel looks slightly confused at Dean's reference, but ploughs on regardless. "I will explain. A Demon was human once, but acted with malevolence in its human lifetime. An Ascended is a human who acts with benevolence within its human lifetime. In the same way a Demon is eventually tainted by evil, an Ascended is a force driven by good. They are humans who have died but have remained as protectors and guardians, a sort of rebirth, if you like."

"You mean like the Buddhist rebirth?" Dean says, "Some sort of reincarnation deal?"

Castiel thinks and recalls what he knows about Buddhist belief to mind, he nods at Dean, "Yes, that is sort of their… deal." Castiel struggles with Dean's colourful terminology, which is laced with cultural references that Castiel does always not understand. Gone were the days where humans had a simple language and the longer time went on, the harder it was to comprehend the meaning behind the spoken word. But Castiel is always open to learning and made the effort to study the differences. "Saṃsāra is the deal you are referring to, the cycle of life, death, and suffering. They believe their holy men, Lamas, are enlightened, and that they choose to stay behind to teach and suffer, so that the rest of humankind may learn to break the cycle of Saṃsāra. This seems true of the Ascended, they help those who suffer and change the lives of those they want to come in contact with."

"You're telling me that Clarence can really get his wings?"

At last, a reference Castiel gets, or at least thinks he does, "I do not know why it happens or how, but yes, in essence these people do become powerful beings." Castiel wishes Dean could see how, what he had just said, bore so much resemblance to their own situation. Except Castiel lost his wings for Dean, not gained them.

"So, like, people like Mother Teresa could be Ascended?"

"Yes, and she is not."

"Really, not Mother Teresa?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"She may well become more in time, but as I said I do not understand the process."

"So what now? Go out there, touch base, and have ourselves a chit-chat?"

"Any meeting or efforts to talk to these beings has resulted badly, several Angels have died because of them. I am unsure why it was so lenient with me." Castiel fears that Dean will want to go back into the forest and while Castiel knows he will follow, he does not want to pass out again as he did before. He does not want to put Dean at risk; he is sure Dean would try to help him again. He surprised by a warmth that follows the feeling in his chest.

"Lenient? You're joking right?"

"I wish I were, Dean, but Ascended dislike Angels as much as they dislike Demons, and tend to smite either without any questions being asked. It allowed me to live and I can only assume this was because I have fallen and no longer connected to the rest of my brethren. Trying to contact it would be an act of suicide."

"So you only think to mention these powerful ascended humans now?"

"When should I have mentioned it?" Castiel feels confused again. Trying to anticipate what Dean might require is exhausting.

"Before now for Christ's sake."

"How am I supposed to know what information is pertinent or even interesting to you, Dean, I have millennia of knowledge, and I simply don't have the time to pick out the parts you might find relevant, even if they were within your ken." Castiel's tone drops as annoyance creeps up from inside.

"Are you saying I'm stupid?" Dean crosses his arms and glowers at Castiel.

"No, I am saying you do not have the capacity to understand everything I know or have experienced."

"That sounds to me like you're saying I'm stupid."

"No, Dean, not stupid, merely limited by your race's closed horizons."

"Oh that's just peachy, not only am I stupid, but the rest of us evolved apes are retarded as well. Way to go insult a species, Cas, really spectacular." Dean's tone is accusatory, "In fact, why are you still hanging around?"

Castiel does not understand why the frustration Dean is feeling is turning to anger towards him but he starts to resent the surly way in which Dean is addressing him. "Quite why I am spending my remaining time protecting an unappreciative Hell's spawn, who has no grasp of gratitude or indeed the lengths to which I go to keep him in the life he has become accustomed to; I do not know."

"Well, if I'm holding you back, Clark, feel free to go jump into a phone booth and save the world alone." Dean's brow furrows and his eyes light, but Castiel can see him putting up those Winchester defences.

"If you think you don't need the help, then I'll leave. And as for holding me back that would imply that you are keeping me here, which simply isn't the case." Castiel knew Dean was the only thing keeping him here, but somehow admitting that feels wrong.

Dean looks dumbstruck for a moment, mouth gaping, he recovers quickly enough to say, "Help? You call what you have done, help? You and your kind have interfered and caused the apocalypse, gee what do you do to people you don't help?"

"My brethren were wrong to do what they did, including ordering me to raise you from the fire of your own making. How short your mortal memory is, though you certainly made an impression on those poor souls you cut into, I am sure they remember you." The step too far is taken and Dean's fist lands squarely in Castiel's face before he has time to regret the words he has uttered. Castiel stands, physically unharmed, and looks at Dean who is clearly hurt and angered by his words. He does not try to defend himself.

Castiel does not drop his penetrating gaze, "That anger you feel for me now, is your own guilt eating away at you, the violence, is the shame fighting to be heard." Dean raises his fist again, but it is half-hearted. He shoves Castiel away. Castiel watches Dean crumble at the edges of his machismo. Dean sits down heavily and pulls out his bottle of comfort. He opens it; and swallows long, hard gulps.

Castiel watches Dean drink and an uncomfortable feeling blooms in his chest. Seeing Dean in obvious pain is hard to watch but Castiel understands something that Dean does not; he is not alone. Castiel is surprised by the depth of his want to make Dean feel better although there is little he can do. What Castiel does know, however, is that Dean needs to get out of the rut he has allowed himself to fall into. Dean would call it tough love; Castiel has heard the phrase when Dean talked about Sam, but now he understands what it means.

"Oblivion is not preferable to life, Dean," Castiel states.

"Oh yeah, says who… you? What do you know about living?" The alcohol has dimmed the brightness in Dean's eyes and Castiel feels something in his chest drop. Dean's self-pity is sickening to him.

"I have existed for a very long time, Dean, seen many things."

"And you call that living do you?"

"Yes."

Dean laughs a nasty mocking laugh, "You have no idea what it is like to experience life. When have you ever felt happiness or misery, unless you've been ordered to inflict it on some poor sap?"

The truth Castiel knows is that he has only felt those things in recent times.

"Some poor sap like you, Dean? Would you prefer I left you where I found you?"

"The truth is you only pulled me out of there because you got ordered to. And that threat just doesn't cut the mustard anymore, chuckles; you couldn't throw me back even if you wanted to."

"And why is that, Dean? I rebelled, I lost my connection to all I have ever known," Castiel feels an overwhelming anger surge up, burning inside his chest. "I gave everything, everything, I had to give to you, and I did it in spite of your womanising, your deals with Demons and your descent into your self-made Perdition. I may have been ordered to pull you out, but I chose to mutiny and it is I who choose to remain and help your ungrateful soul." Castiel turns to leave but stops and settles his ancient unwavering, stare upon Dean. "You are right about one thing, Dean; I never knew what misery felt like until I met you." This time Castiel leaves without breaking stride or looking back.

***

Dean sits still, perching on the end of the bed. He feels a deep sense of loss inside, the pit of his gut is churning, and he just wants to run away. He takes the bourbon out of his jacket, unscrews the cap, and places the rim on his lip. The vapour wafts up from the shaft and he smells the comfort he needs, except Castiel's cutting concourse is reverberating around in his head and somehow, this makes the normally reassuring smell, unpleasant.

He has been here before, self-sabotage being a forte of his, watching someone - who gave a crap about his shitty self – walk away. At times, he wondered why he pushed people away, even Sam, but at other times, he knew exactly why. The crux of the matter is that Castiel scared the bejesus out of him. He still, after all this time, cannot understand why Castiel is here helping him. Dean wakes up most days expecting never to see the Angel again, to find that he has, at last, gone to find something better than the Winchester take on life. And each day that Castiel turns up Dean is glad to see him, relieved that he has one more day at least. He has become accustomed to Castiel's friendship and in Dean's book, that's pretty damn rare. But his attachment to the Angel frightens him; it's the fear of never seeing him again that really yanks Dean's chain. Castiel had died once and whether Lucifer, Daddy, or whatever cosmic force, had seen fit to bring him back, Dean was grateful. He had not liked the feeling when he'd found out Cas had been ganked by his fellow dicks with wings.

It was that feeling that sent Dean into his dark place. It was the reason why he pushed Castiel away rather than reaching out, as he had wanted. Dean fights what he feels and forces it downwards. He will not acknowledge it.

The cap goes back on and the drink remains untouched. Dean tosses the bottle on to the bed. He still feels tired, yes because of the booze, but more because he was mentally exhausted. He checks the time and sees is that Sam has been gone for two and a half hours. Nothing new there, so Dean lies down on the bed and attempts to sleep off the rest of the drink. He lays awake for ten minutes before he realises he is lying in the bed Castiel slept in, he gets up, goes over to his own bed and lays with his back to Castiel's bed.

Dean drifts into a dreamy borderland, between reality and his own subconscious. At first, it is a pleasant place filled with comfort and women, mostly from porno's he'd watched the day before and one girl he saw in the reception of the motel, wearing skintight jeans. He drifts in and out of various scenarios, limit only by his own imagination, which weren't saying much so the plot is pretty simple. But then, it gets colder and he finds himself alone. He sees the woods that he carried Castiel through and glimpses the Angel through the foliage. Dean follows but Castiel is always just out of sight. He starts to run and branches whip his face, but Dean ignores it in his desperation to get through to Castiel. Dean feels like he is running through the air but finally he reaches Castiel and he grabs hold of him. Castiel looks at where Dean's hand grasps him and smiles, a small warm smile. He looks up into Dean's eyes, his gaze is bright with feeling, and he reaches up, strokes Dean's face whilst leaning in to touch Dean's lips with his own.

Dean wakes with a start and flails his arms wide, knocking his gun and bottle off the bed stand. The bottle smashes and the smell of booze floats up to Dean, who is panting from the sudden wake up call. His eyes are wide, he feels his heart is beating faster than normal and there is a gnawing feeling in his stomach. He sits up and grabs his gut, twisting his hand in an effort to make the feeling go away. He rubs his eyes and tries to make the vision in his head crawl back into the dark place it came from. Dean gets up, avoids the broken glass, and starts stripping off his clothes: a shower being the order of the day. A very cold one.

In the shower, Dean tries to visualise a naked woman, any naked woman. But his fear and repulsion at his dream just keep thrusting through. How he has dreamt such a thing, Dean cannot understand, and he tries to reason that it must be the lack of any male, who he wasn't related to, being around. Bobby was practically their father, so he didn't count. At the thought of Bobby, Dean almost hears him calling Dean a 'whiney she-bitch'; he can see the look on Booby's face. He is simply confused at having such a close friend who wasn't Sam and after the row they had, Dean reasons he simply doesn't want to lose his friend. Ok then. Next step would be bury the dream, find Cas, find a way to say he is sorry without actually saying it and everything could go back to normal.

Dean opens the shower door and steps out only to see Castiel standing there looking at him. Dean jumps back into the shower, slips, but manages to keep standing.

"Dude! I have told you before… Boundaries, boundaries!" Dean curses under his breath and reaches out for the towel. Castiel just stares at him. "Towel, for the love of…" Dean trails off as Castiel gives him the towel, still silently watching. Dean stares at him angrily, "Out!" Castiel blinks and walks out the room. Dean gawps at the closing door in disbelief, this person was supposed to be his friend, yet he drives Dean nuts. He towels off and dresses quickly, thinking how annoyed he is that Castiel saw him naked. But even with his clothes on, Castiel could see his very being, naked. This thought makes Dean feel small and vulnerable, and he reacts in the only way he knows, with anger, resentment, and possibly more violence.

Castiel is standing by the door when Dean emerges. "I have told you many, many times, when Sammy and me go into the little room to wash and whatever, you stay out! It's a small but pretty damn important rule!"

Castiel nods slowly, "I understand, Dean, I am sorry I forgot you like to cleanse and defecate in solitude, but I needed to tell you I have a message from Sam," He holds up his cell. "Sam has gone to the forest to examine the runes, alone. He is in great danger."

At the mention of Sam's name and the word 'danger' in that same sentence, all thoughts of anger towards Castiel dissipate momentarily. Dean does a quick bit of mental arithmetic, discovers Sam has been gone five hours and it most definitely is dark now. He picks up his phone and sees no message. Sam would have checked in by now if he had changed his plans or something had come up. Why hadn't Sam messaged him? In fact, now he came to think on it, why had Sam messaged Cas at all? As far as Sam knew, Cas was still in dreamland. He walks over to where his gun lies on the floor, amidst the broken bottle and puddle of brown liquid. He sees Castiel note the broken bottle, but thankfully, the Angel remains quiet.

"Sam should be back by now, we are going to have to go look for him," Dean knows he'll have to save the who, what, and why, for later. He doesn't notice that he says 'we' instead of me.

Castiel frowns, "Dean, if I go with you, I don't know if I will be able to remain conscious or even survive in the presence of this creature."

"So don't come, I can get Sam on my own. Won't be the first time I have hauled him out of a bad ass situation, your free to do as you please, as you so eloquently pointed out before." Dean grabs the keys to his car and walks out slamming the door, just as Castiel had done to him earlier; see how he likes them apples.

***

Sam is starting to think that he has wasted his time. The light is starting fade and the trees are casting long, scary looking shadows that dance around the leaf littered ground. The air has cooled though and Sam is happy he is not sweating out of every pore. He sips the bottle of water he brought with him and glances about, hoping to see a glimpse of the girls. If he could avoid the search effort that would be just dandy as well, he really didn't want to have to explain what he was doing up here.

Still, being here is better than watching an Angel sleep, he thinks. The contrast of being out of the stuffy motel room, within the woods is rejuvenating to Sam. He is aware that this is the second time he has been in the woods alone, he is finding that he seeks out time for himself more frequently these days, being around his brother is just a little more exhausting these days. He doesn't even want to think about the consequences if Castiel stays unconscious, it just turned his mind around in circles and he is left back at the beginning again.

Looking up through the darkening canopy, Sam knows he must leave empty handed or he won't be able to return to the car. He turns around and starts to venture back. He sees a light in the east and follows it, it bobs erratically, Sam thinks it might be a torch of some kind being held pretty low down. The light is intermittent and casts around as though someone is looking for something. Sam considers it might be one of the search and rescue team, but without knowing for sure Sam risks getting a little closer to confirm.

After a few minutes he starts to catch up and he can see it is a young blonde girl, she is carrying wood. Up ahead he can see the outline of a wooden building, small and shack like, possibly a hunters rest. He hangs back and watches her going inside, shutting the door carefully; he creeps up to the single window and peers in. The other girl is lying in a cot and seems pale, clearly ill, or injured. Sam looks for someone else but cannot see anyone. He reaches out to open the door but then feels coldness spread over his skin like ice water; he freezes and slowly turns. A young man stands behind him, his eyes a ferocious blue, his expression intense and entirely focused on Sam. Sam lifts his hands up in a submissive fashion and turns to face him properly. The man leans forward and looks directly into Sam's eyes; to Sam it feels like he is looking into his very soul, Sam stays still. After a moment, he backs away from Sam and opens the door, he waits until Sam realises that the door is open for him to enter. Not knowing what else to do Sam walks through the rickety door.

Inside, the blonde girl looks at Sam in surprise and looks questioningly at the blue-eyed man. The man merely points to a chair and Sam sits. Again, Sam is subjected to the intense stare but the cold feeling has gone, Sam tries to keep the man's steady gaze but he cannot, and eventually, he has to look away.

The blonde girl approaches Sam with a cup in her hand and throws it in his face. Reacting quickly, Sam puts up his hands but is soaked by the cold water in the cup. Immediately Sam's mind jumps to the obvious conclusion, that these people have had contact with Demons and have some knowledge of how to deal with them. He starts to understand their fear and seclusion.

He looks at the blonde girl who splashed him, he puts out his hand in greeting and tries honesty, "Hello, my name is Sam, and I'm not a Demon, I am a Demon hunter."

The girl looks toward the dark haired man and when he nods, she takes Sam's hand and shakes it, "I'm Magda, this Kayleigh," she points to the girl lying on the bed. Sam looks at the man and Magda says, "We don't know his name, but he helped us, he doesn't speak much."

Even though he isn't looking at the guy, Sam can feel the gaze boring into the back of his head. The way that felt reminded him of Castiel, but he hoped this being, whatever it was, couldn't see him that clearly. Sam fears what might be glimpsed deep down inside. "What's wrong with Kayleigh?" Sam kneels down beside the cot assessing what is wrong with her, but can see no visible signs of damage.

"A Demon was inside her, but he saw what was there and made it leave. She hasn't woken up since, but he said she would get better." Magda looks over to her friend frowning.

Sam stands and runs his hand through his hair, "I can get help, or if you like I can take you to safety."

The man shakes his head, "No."

"Why not?" Sam replies.

"We must wait."

"What are we waiting for, exactly? We need to get Kayleigh to a hospital."

Sam watches as the man looks up and Magda says, "He is waiting for the light to come back."

"What light is that, Magda?"

Magda thinks for a moment, "When the black stuff inside Kayleigh was hurting her, the man came with the light and made it go away. But the light was bright and I had to look away. It was pretty."

Sam has little time to comprehend the nature of what Magda has said before the shack is drenched in light from the outside. Through the one window, the light cuts like a laser and momentarily blinds those within. Sam hears the door open but can do nothing about it, and he can't look into the radiance, it is too bright.

***

A/N: Delay in getting this one out due to Essay, but finished in the end. Chapter five should be out within two weeks, or less if I get more free time. I hope you have enjoyed this addition, let me know what you thought or just even that you've read it :) Thanks.