Sam lifted his shirt to cover his mouth and clung tightly to his brother. With Bobby urging him on from behind, the three of them made a mad dash for the front door. Sam nearly slipped down the stairs, but managed to keep his footing. He reached for the door handle, but felt the heat on it and jerked his hand back. Before he could react Bobby had waved them aside and kicked the door down.

The fresh air felt good on Sam's skin, and he took a deep breath of it once they were on the front lawn. A large crowd of their neighbors had gathered to watch as the second story went up in flames just as the attic had. Sam heard the distant sound of wailing, and figured that at least one of them had had the common sense to call the fire department.

"Sam?" Dean asked, pushing his hands against his brother's chest. Sam had forgotten he was even holding him.

"What?" Sam asked, setting him down. He was feeling numb now that the adrenaline had worn off. His house was burning down. They had just moved everything in there, and it was all going to be gone before the end of the day. Sam pulled his shirt off and pressed it to his nose to stop the blood that was still dripping down his shirt.

"Where's Cas?" Dean asked. Sam looked around them. The crowds watched, but made no move to help them. Bobby had turned to leave, but he stopped when Dean had spoken. The little angel was no where to be seen.

"He- he must still be in there." Sam realized slowly.

Dean looked thunderstruck. "How could you!" The younger brother screamed violently. "He saved me and you left him behind?"

"I was worried about saving you!" Sam managed to shout back, but his heart wasn't in his words. Dean was right, he had simply forgotten about Castiel. Dean looked at him, and to late Sam saw the gleam in his eyes. "Dean no!" He shout, making a grab for his arm. Dean pushed pat him and straight back into the burning house.

He made a move to follow, but found a hand on his shoulder. Sam looked up in surprise and saw his father staring into the open doorway. John caught the last glimpse of Dean's shirt as he darted into the hallway. "I came home early." He said blankly. "I got the job." Then he let go and was running after his son.

"Stay here!" Bobby yelled at Sam, following John in. Sam stared, not even holding his shirt to his nose anymore. He wasn't particularly religious, but he started praying then.

Dean covered his mouth with his shirt like he had seen Sam do and shouted as loud as he could. "Cas! Castiel!" He listened intently for a reply. Dean could hear the roar of the fire, a crash as one of the upper rooms caved, but no angel. He felt hot, like his insides were cooking inside of him. Dean wondered briefly if his mother hurt this much, but shoved the thought to the back of his mind as forcefully as he could. Castiel was not his mother. He would save him.

Dean pressed further in, down a hallway, peeking into every room for his friend. "Castiel!" He shouted again.

"Dean?" He heard a weak voice from the next room, followed by a cough. The door was already slightly ajar, but Dean shoved it open to enter. It was a spare room, where John had set up his desk. The furniture was all upturned now, and Castiel was laying on his back in the middle of the mess, staring up at the ceiling as blood dripped slowly from his mouth.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, kneeling by his friend's side. "What happened?"

"One of the ghosts was still kicking when you guys were trying to leave. I held her off until she burned up. But I don't feel so good anymore. I don't think I can move." Castiel whispered. "I didn't have to show myself to you to save you from the ghosts." He added suddenly.

"What?" Dean asked. He had been trying to think of a way to move Castiel, and couldn't think of anything.

"I knew you were different the moment I was assigned your case. You were brave, and charming, and I just wanted to meet you. So I did. This is all my fault. I could have gotten rid of the ghosts, but I just wanted to talk to you. I'm sorry I'm such a terrible guardian." Castiel said quickly, the words tumbling from his mouth like he was afraid they would be gone if he didn't say them quick enough. "And now-"

This time Dean cut him off before he could say it. He clamped his hands down on the angel's and picked them up. "I don't care whats going to happen. I'm glad you chose to talk to me." He said fiercely. "And when we get out of here we're going to be great friends, and you're going to be an amazing angel and never leave. Promise?"

Castiel smiled up at him weakly. It would have been charming if he wasn't covered in blood. "I promise I'll protect you from now on, and never leave." He replied as calmly as he could. Castiel started to cough again.

Dean felt a s tear starting to roll down his cheek. He wiped it away with one of his hands, he didn't want Castiel to know how scared he was. Dean was just wondering if they were going to die when the door burst open behind him and John came in.

"Dean!" He shouted, scooping his son up and pulling him close in one fluid motion. Dean let out a surprised chirp when he lost a hold of Castiel's hands, but was otherwise perfectly happy to see his dad. Bobby came in behind them and carefully picked up Castiel.

"Let's get out of here!" Bobby called. His face looked black with soot. John nodded, but it quickly proved to be easier said than done. The hallway was still passable, but the front door was completely obscured by flames. John backtracked into the office, and without hesitating, kicked the window. It splintered, and another well aimed kick shattered it. Little shards of glass littered the ground where John put his feet, but he didn't seem to care to much.

John brought Dean to where the paramedic was waiting. He looked over both the boys at once as they refused to be separated again and told John that they would both be fine after some rest. John allowed himself to relax. He needed to let go of some of his fear, but ever since he had lost Mary...

Sam came to stand by his dad. He had gotten a bandage put on his nose, but it still stung badly. Since Bobby had left for good this time, he figured it would be up to him to explain everything. The fire, and maybe even the ghosts and what Castiel truly was. If he felt his father could handle it that is.

Castiel rested his head against Dean's shoulder. He was never going to let Dean get hurt again.