Disclaimer - Don't own a thing.

Chapter 4 - And We All Fall Down

Dean slept, albeit lightly. For the first time in months he had been settled in unbroken sleep for nearly two hours. It was a new personal record. He awoke to what he thought was the faint sound of rustling feathers, glanced around the empty room, his heart in his mouth. Just as it was every time he woke up in the middle of the night thinking he'd heard Castiel.

Fooling himself into thinking just for a moment that the last two months hadn't happened.

He'd dragged himself off of the sofa and glanced at the digital clock beeping where his head had been. 00:24 blinked back at him. He slouched off to the kitchen for a glass of water, (or a slug of whisky might be more effective), trying not to wake Sam, for whom it was even more rare to get some measure of seemingly peaceful sleep.

Dean had opted for water, the whisky may help him to pass out quicker, but it would do his mind no favours. Everything seemed muted drunk and conscious, but his dreams were a lot more vivid through alcohol induced sleep. He knew from experience. He took a sip, and lowered the glass to the counter. Just as he set it down there was a thick thudding, of dead weight hitting the hardwood floor, and for a second he looked stupidly at his own hand holding the glass, wondering if that had been him.

He whirled around, greeted with the sight of Castiel, huddled on the hardwood just outside of the doorway, groaning. Sam had jolted awake and looked to Dean for some indication of what the hell they were meant to do.

"Go get Bobby." Dean yelled, crouching over Cas who was desperately heaving himself to his feet using the wall as a crutch.

"Dean…" Sam replied hesitantly, obviously not loving the idea of leaving Dean alone with Cas.

"Sam. Go." Dean said flatly, resolve thick in his voice. And Sam did. Dean turned back to Cas, hands grasping the lapels of his trenchcoat to drag him to his feet. Shit, he felt thin through that coat. "Cas look at me, Cas. Are you okay?"

Castiel looked up, and for a moment he smiled, actually smiled. Dean hadn't abandoned him, sure it had felt like it, but if there was one thing Cas had learnt in his time among humans was that forgiveness was a beautiful thing. Sam had raised Lucifer. Bobby had sold his soul to Crowley. Dean had forgiven them, they were family again. Cas had still had doubts, even in his impulse flight down here, but now he knew he could do this. He had to do this… for Dean.

"I'm sorry," he choked, a shimmer darted from his shoulder, and he winced for a second, but set his jaw and stood stronger now than Dean had seen him before. The rippling air bashed against the wall, singeing the wallpaper there, and sped through the half open window. Dean's eyes widened in horror as he realised these shimmers in the air were the souls escaping through Cas. Punching holes in him in a bid for freedom. Castiel read his mind, his eyes turned soft and comforting for a moment, "I've got them Dean. Now I can put them back."

Bobby and Sam's footsteps sounded down the stairs, hammering into the room. Cas' gaze fell on Bobby,

"I need your help," he started, and when the two hunters just looked at him in disbelief Dean stepped towards them.

"We've gotta crack Purgatory again," he announced, "Cas is uh… Cas is putting them back." Dean tried to keep the smile out of his voice, but this was the best he could have hoped for. It was hard to keep from grinning. In fact, he wondered why they weren't all happier about the situation. Maybe Castiel's battered form was still casting a dark shadow over everything.

Castiel handed a jar of blood to Bobby, a grimace on his face as he continued to battle the war raging inside him,

"Hurry." Dean said shortly, who knew how much longer Cas could restrain the souls. The wind blew strong, wailing through the loose window panes as Bobby rushed to the desk; retrieving a piece of paper covered in words he'd hashed out after hearing the ritual and a sketch of the sigil drawn from memory. 'Maybe the months of obsessing over the ritual had been worth it after all,' Dean wondered idly.

Sam frowned.

"Wait, didn't you need the blood of a Purgatory native last time?"

Castiel nodded, he grabbed a knife from the assortment on the table behind him, always stacked with books and weapons, pulled up his sleeve and dragged it across the underside of his arm. Of course, the souls had been in himso long now, they'd consumed him almost. Dean couldn't help but shudder, the bruises on Castiel's body had worsened if possible over the past months, now he could see they trailed up his arm, blotchy but clear like paint splatters. Blueish black veins were prominent, Christ, his arm looked like a frigging roadmap. Bobby returned just in time, catching the blood in a pewter bowl, mixing it with the virgins blood.

Bobby stormed over to the largest barest expanse of wall, tearing away a picture frame that hung there and quickly copied the sigil onto the wall paper using the reddish black mixture, Sam helped and picked up the ritual, began to chant. This is going too well, was all Dean could think. He could see the urgency in Castiel's eyes, could see how much it was killing him to hold the souls in until the timing was right. But there was something more than that, he could see something like… fear? Regret?

Castiel's legs gave way and a sickening crunch sounded as a soul ripped straight out of his chest. He clutched his arms around himself, staggering up, back to his feet. Dean was at his side instantly, watching as not one, but five or six of the shimmering forms ripped through the house, stronger in numbers, tearing out a window and letting the gail blow into the front room. A light was forming in the middle of the sigil as Bobby stepped back. Sam continued to chant, also taking steps back, pressing himself against the far wall. The light grew slowly until it was around the size of an average door, it's brightness framing Castiel and Dean as they stood silhouetted in it's path.

Dean felt a soft grip on his bare arm, feather light and he turned towards Cas. In that moment the realisation hit him like a ton of flying bricks. Cas wasn't going to live through this one, and the son of a bitch had known that all along.

No wonder he hadn't been happy about this; Dean had put it down to the pain the souls were causing him. But now he thought about it, he remembered with renewed understanding, the shock and almost pity looks Sam and Bobby had shot their way while performing the ritual. Of course it was going too well. Of course this had been too motherfucking easy. He felt like the biggest idiot for not realising, but of course, there was no way he'd have gotten his Cas back, not permanently; It didn't work that way.

"I'm sorry Dean." Castiel muttered, all too quickly, and before Dean had time to register he'd darted forward, pitching into the portal of swirling blue light. Dean just watched, stunned with tears stinging his eyes as Castiel looked back at him, finally letting go of the souls which burst out of him, tore him apart from the inside. The clothes on his back came away in shreds, as did the skin and flesh and bone, from his fingers, his shoulders, his face. After what seemed like an eternity of watching this, but must have only been a few seconds, the masses of soulsclouded the vision of Castiel with their shimmering aura and the portal snapped shut on them all.

It was only when the portal shut and they were plunged into darkness that Dean realised that at some point all the lights had blown out. He was glad it was dark, glad that neither Bobby or Sam could see his face, slick with tears and grief. He stumbled to the sofa and sank into it wordlessly.

No one said anything for a long time, Sam silently fetched candles placing a few around the room, and Bobby after checking that Dean and Sam were okay, a couple of questions that mostly went unanswered by Dean, disappeared upstairs.

Dean glanced at the clock. It was 00.43. It had been twenty minutes. Twenty minutes was all it had taken, for his entire situation, entire perspective to be turned upside down and smashed to pieces again.

Sam stood before him, obviously stuck for words, and trying to think of the best thing to say.

"Dean, I'm sorr…"

"Don't." Dean stammered, surprised a little to hear the waver in his voice. "Just don't Sammy. I can't do this now."

Sam nodded, just to hear his brother speak was a relief. He patted Dean on the shoulder, squeezed and walked back to his side of the room. Gathering his sleeping things, he silently moved into the hall. The least he could do was give Dean some privacy. Give him some time alone to register what had happened. Sam knew his brother well enough not to go upstairs though. Privacy was one thing, but his brother completely alone in his grief, that way lay stupid decisions and demon deals. No, the hall was fine.

Dean lay back, mind whirling in circles for almost an hour. The silence in the house was deafening, and all Dean could think was that he just wanted to fucking scream now. Go outside, kill something and fucking scream the whole goddamn town down. Another hour passed in stifled quiet as the candles wavering light died down and Dean decided that that was just what he'd do. He couldn't stay here.

He pulled on a pair of jeans, making his way through the darkness and to the door when he heard a stirring. And not one coming from the hall way or upstairs. He turned, pulling his gun and easing off the safety. Careful to make no more noise as he crept back into the dark front room.

NOTE - SO I WROTE THIS VERY EARLY THIS MORNING. We're talking around 2.30. So I apologise for any mistakes, I did have a quick proof read this morning but it's hot outside and I think the sun is frying my brain. Anyway hope you enjoy. Just one more chapter to go, but I think this whole thing might lead into my own AU. SO AWESOME TIMES.
Anyway, hope you enjoy. Review to be the Castiel to my Crowley.
(Because I ship them now. =u=)