*Disclaimer* I do not own Supernatural, or any of the characters, nor to I claim ownership. I'm just a fan.

Chapter Three

It was a bed. A real bed, not like the ones commonly found now a days. It wasn't just springs; it had a soft, cushiony mattress as well and soft, silky covers. The bed was made, and Castiel lay on top of the covers, not sleeping, just out of consciousness. He opened his eyes as the power that had held him under loosened its grip. He was on his back. He rolled onto his side slowly, still feeling a little out of it. He was in a room. It was a plain room, four walls, a door at the west wall, a large window at the east wall, the bed pushed [long ways] against the north wall, and nothing on the south wall. The ceiling, except for the light, was as bare as the south wall. The floor was covered in plush, deep red carpet. This all registered at the back of Castiel's mind, but it wasn't what he noticed, what he paid attention to, what made his eyes widen, what stunned him; because as soon as he rolled onto his side he realized-

his wings were back…

Castiel bolted into an upright position. His wings were back! He could feel them, he could feel the power they bore, he could feel their weight, their light, their essence, all strapped on to his back. Unsure and not ready to believe in such a miracle, Castiel tested them out. He unfurled them to their full length, stretching them out and spreading out the 'feathers'. He could feel the light reaching out in every direction, stretching out further. It was the equivalent of a human's muscles trembling during a good morning stretch. He brought them back down and folded them easily, neatly, onto his back. They were really there, and they were just as they had been before. They weren't limp, dull, dim, or withered.

Castiel was so absorbed in the fact that he once again had his wings that it took him a while to truly notice where he was. He slid his feet off the bed, his shoes sinking into the plush carpet. Still mesmerized by the power and feel of his wings, it took him a while to pay attention to his clothes. His shoes were, well, shoes, 'real' shoes, dress shoes, black and a bit shiny. They were the same shoes his vessel had been wearing when he'd first said yes. The same went for his black slacks, tie, shirt…. He was wearing everything he used to wear…that got his attention of his wings long enough for him to glance around and finally give the room a good look.

It was dawn, the sun was just breaking over the horizon, Castiel could see it from his window. He slowly stood up and walked up to the huge glass surface, it took up most of the east wall. He glanced out, looking at the broken buildings, dirty streets; the city, lying in ruins….just as he'd left it. Blinking, he backed away, thinking back to all that had happened before this point. They had been about to take down Lucifer, they'd been ambushed, Dean had… Dean! Castiel got into a fighting stance. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't have wings… he had no idea how he'd gotten here, but he did know where he had to be. He unfurled his wings, he had to help Dean. He'd figure out why he had woken here, and how he'd gotten his wings back, but first, first he had to go help Dean. His wings stretched out to their full length, preparing to take flight. He wasn't even able to flap them once. He had his destination in mind, he'd been about to test out their full capabilities, when they went limp then folded back up neatly behind his back.

Castiel struggled to unfurl his wings, but they didn't even twitch. "Leaving so soon?" said a very familiar voice, in more ways than one. Castiel turned around slowly, though he didn't have to train his vessel's eyes on the creature to know who it was. Lucifer starred at him from behind Sam's skin, leaning on the doorway. The grace was unmistakable, as was Sam's voice. "Castiel, I'm hurt" Lucifer added. "Lucifer" was all Castiel had said, trying desperately to flap his wings. "Come on, Castiel, you really think you can fly away if an archangel doesn't want you too?" Lucifer asked, shrugging off the doorway and walking forward. Castiel starred at him, starred at Sam, whom he hadn't seen since Dean had cut him out of his life, and, subsequently, out of his life as well.

"What do you want?" Castiel asked, knowing he was no match for his brother, and that if he didn't get away soon he'd never have a chance to help Dean. "I just wanted to see my brother, is that too hard to believe?" Lucifer asked. "Yes" Castiel answered truthfully, glancing around the room, looking everywhere but at Lucifer. He heard a sigh, and felt something very close to sorrow emit from his brother's grace, probably the closest he could come to the feeling. Lucifer took another step toward him, reaching out, and Castiel took a few steps back in response, pondering over how he could fight, or if he was strong enough to survive the fall out the window. He felt stronger…he no longer felt pain, or fatigue, or hunger. Lucifer looked disappointed for an instant; he then looked down at the carpet and brought his hand back down to his side. "I'm not what you think, Castiel" he said, glancing at where the carpet met with the south wall. "I won't hurt you" he finished. It wasn't hard to see Castiel didn't believe him; he wasn't trying to hide it either.

Castiel didn't move another inch, he stood completely still for a long time. He stared at Lucifer until the fallen archangel sighed once more, "Look what I did for you" he said. "I gave you your wings back, Castiel, we are brothers why would-" "You fell, you rebelled, you destroyed humanity" Castiel said, inching closer to the window. He was fairly certain he was strong enough to survive the fall. "You fell" Lucifer repeated. "You rebelled. You were abandoned here, along with me, to rot among the scum left on earth. Can you blame me for trying to clean up my new home a little?" he asked. "Earth is not your home" Castiel retorted quickly, his shoulders tensing. "You cannot mean it belongs to the humans?" Lucifer said, "If I hadn't come along they would have destroyed it by now anyways. Croatoan virus or no Croatoan virus, they would have destroyed each other, and taken the planet down with them. I won't destroy the planet" he said. Castiel narrowed his eyes, sliding back another inch.

"You have fallen, Castiel, worse than that; you have been abandoned by The Host of Heaven, by your garrison. If you leave me, your powers will dwindle back down to nothing. You will essentially be a mortal. If you stay with me, you'll keep your wings, you will remain an angel, and you won't be alone" Lucifer said. "I wasn't alone" Castiel said, taking another step back, his shoe hitting the wall. This was as close as he could get, now he just had to wait for an opportunity.

"You mean the Winchester, do you not?" Lucifer stated more than asked, walking back toward the bed and slowly sinking down onto the mattress. Castiel's eyes followed him, becoming more tense the second his friend's name [er, last name] left Lucifer's lips, which was how he came to notice the trench coat lying on top of the bed, next to the wall. "How did you get that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. He'd disposed of that, a long time ago. Lucifer didn't answer his question; he just stared at the wall. "Please don't try to jump out the window" he said, causing Castiel to stiffen. He glared at him, not budging, though not making a move to jump out either. "Why do you think you are here, Castiel? Don't you think you'd already be hurt, if that was the reason I'd brought you here?" Lucifer asked.

Castiel didn't answer; he just started at his trench co- his vessel's trench coat. "How did you get that?" he repeated, glancing at Lucifer. "I heard you liked it, that you'd grown attached to it" Lucifer began, looking at the tan coat. He then switched his attention to Castiel. "I want you to be happy" he said, elbows and forearms resting on his knees. Castiel looked away, not in disgust, but in thought. "Allow me to save Dean Winchester then" he said finally. There was a pause; Castiel forced himself to look at Lucifer. "Please" he said, surprising both himself and his brother, "I just need a minute. I'll bring him back, then I'll return" he continued. He, unblinking, as always, dared add "I'll stay here, at your side. I'll never leave. I just need to do this one thing."

Lucifer seemed to think about this for a moment before he beckoned for Castiel to come forward with a wide gesture using his entire forearm. Castiel didn't budge, but he didn't have to. He felt his feet slid forward, his wings beat uselessly, barely a wind created, as they were still folded against his back. He came to a stop beside the bed, his pants' leg brushing against the bed's soft covers. He jerked back in surprise and tensed up unintentionally. Angels weren't used to being dragged around or forced like this, especially not when they could feel their full power, barely contained inside their vessel. He glanced up at Lucifer, his gaze hard, his grace swelled up inside him, ready to smite whatever dared treat him like a ragdoll. Lucifer, however, was not smiteable, at least not by Castiel. Lucifer pat the bed then, as if he knew Castiel needed a more direct gesture, motioned for him to sit. Without his consent, his vessel sat. "This is all so very, human, of you, Lucifer" he said, a voice warning him not to taunt the archangel. He was no use to Dean if he exploded.

"You see Castiel, I can't do that. I can't let you bring the Winchester back. Not only is he a terrible nuisance, but I don't want him near you. I know very which one of us you'd choose if given the chance, even though I'm your brother, and this vessel is the Winchester's brother, another one of your favorite pets, you'd still choose Dean." Lucifer said, eyes full of sorrow. Castiel looked at his hands, "No, I wouldn't" he said. "I just need to do this" he added, "He doesn't even need to know I did it, I can block the memory of his death" he looked up at Lucifer. "Please" was all he could say, his bright blue eyes wide and pleading. Lucifer swallowed, eyes seeming to pity his little brother. "I'm sorry Castiel" he said slowly, regrettably, before his hand flashed forward, gripping the back of Castiel's neck. The movement was so fast Castiel didn't have time to do anything except stiffen. Lucifer tightened his grip, his thumb pressing on to the skin just below his ear, and his index and middle finger putting pressure on the back of his head. "No" Castiel said, though feebly, before his eyes rolled into his head and his body went limp. He crumpled, his body falling over, his shoulder hitting Lucifer's chest. Lucifer caught him before he could topple forward and fall on the ground. His fingers slid up, threading through the vessel's hair and pressing to the skull. He closed his eyes and entered his little brother's mind.

*Am I a tease? I feel like I dangled Lucifer/Castiel in this chapter... but sorry, it's not that type of fic.*