Some happy stuff, some sad stuff - all in the average day of the Winchesters and their favourite angel XD Enjoy!

Sam watched his brother toss and turn on the bed, sleeping off the drinking he'd been doing last night. The younger had had to walk through town looking for Dean, spent an hour searching the bars on a gut feeling the man would need a little help. He'd found his brother asleep in the front seat of the Impala in a bar's parking lot. After driving him home and dragging him into a bed, Sam had sat by his older brother for the rest of the night just to make sure he was okay. He didn't want him dying on him, choking on his own vomit or something equally as disgusting.

Stifling a yawn, Sam rubbed his eyes and blinked. He was so tired; he hadn't slept all night. He'd just started to close his eyes when the all-too familiar fluttering of feathers and wings startled him into some sort of consciousness. His sleep-deprived brain took a moment to remember what that meant. As it all fell into place, Sam stiffened, not wanting to turn around in case he saw a young woman with red-brown hair and smoky grey eyes, a smug smile gracing her lips.

No one spoke as the unknown angel stepped up behind Sam, footsteps light on the wooden floor. Dean tossed, muttering in his sleep. Then silence, only soft breathing and hearts beating.

"If that's you, Ariel," Sam said, keeping his gaze fixed on his restless brother's figure lying tangled in the blankets "Say what you have to and go."

Still just silence. Sam grew frustrated and stood up, turning angrily to face the unannounced angel. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped dead when he saw who was standing there with hands clasped behind his back.

The archangel stared at Sam, dark eyes emotionless. The younger Winchester could only stare back, wondering what this turn of events could mean for Castiel, and in turn, Dean.

"Raphael."

The dark-skinned man didn't speak, and Sam, exhausted, took a moment to muster up the ability to string a coherent sentence together.

"What's going on? Castiel..."

As Sam trailed off, Raphael filled the surrounding quietness with his own low voice, answering Sam's spoken and unspoken questions.

"Castiel is alive. He survived and is healing as we speak."

He glanced at Dean as he finished, the sleeping hunter oblivious to the news that had just been revealed. Sam stared open-mouthed, surprise and relief washing through him at tidal-wave speed.
Castiel was okay. He was going to be fine. The angel had made it.

Raphael swept his gaze around to Sam, eyes sharp and searching. The Winchester looked back, unblinking. He knew Dean would want to be awake, he'd want to know about Castiel's condition. But one look at his passed-out brother stilled that thought. He could find out when he woke. His flicker of a glance lasted only a split-second, but when Sam turned back to Raphael, the archangel was gone.

Sam slumped into the chair again, smiling to himself as he watched Dean. He was going to be pissed that he didn't get to hear the news as soon as it came, but at least he could know that the angel was going to live. At least he could rest easier now that he wasn't worrying about Castiel. He hoped Dean could stop blaming himself, but Sam knew it would take him a while.

/\/\

Gabriel had tried to snap the restraints that held Castiel to the table, but found he couldn't. It was only when Raphael returned to check on the angel that he discovered why.

"I had to make sure you wouldn't let him free to kill himself, to help him relieve the pain," Raphael said as he waved his hand over the bonds and they split in half.

Gabriel nodded, not shocked in the slightest. He knew it was a definite possibility that he might have let Castiel stop the pain he was in. Even if it meant killing Castiel and failing in his task to protect his brother, Gabriel knew he could have done it. Might have.

The archangel helped the broken, exhausted angel up off the table and sat him down on the ground.

"How do you feel?"

Castiel looked at him, blue eyes shining. Only now they weren't shining with tears of agony – they were shining with joy. Relief. Happiness.

"It still hurts, but not like it did before. And it's everywhere – I hurt all over the place," the angel said truthfully. Gabriel smiled – Castiel had never been one to lie. He glanced at Raphael, who had seated himself behind Castiel to check the progress on his wings. The dark archangel ran a hand over the wings lightly, the caked blood vanishing as his hands moved. Castiel closed his eyes and bit his lip. Gabriel knew his wings would still be sore, and even the slightest touch would be a little painful.

But Raphael was the healer, and he knew exactly what he was doing. He did his work quickly, carefully, and as painlessly as possible. When he was finished, Castiel's wings were clear of blood and shimmered slightly as he brought them around his body. With feathers, they would have created a sheet of shimmering colour to hide the angel in Heaven, or on Earth it would hide him completely from the world. But ruined as they were, they were more like a cage around the angel, the few feathers now growing almost non-existent. Castiel stared at them, swallowing and wincing when it caused pain to surge through him. Gabriel put a hand on his shoulder, and Raphael moved to sit in front of the injured angel. He placed a gentle hand on Castiel's chest for a moment.

Gabriel had never heard Raphael sound surprised. Even when he'd fallen from Heaven, Raphael hadn't been shocked like the others. He'd known it was coming, sooner or later. But now, Gabriel distinctly heard the other archangel gasp.

"What did they do to you?" Raphael asked quietly.

Castiel tried to speak, but his throat pained him too much. He'd already achieved a miracle by speaking to Gabriel earlier. So Raphael tried a different tactic. He leaned forward, and Castiel did the same until their foreheads touched. Both closed their eyes, and the blonde archangel watched as the healer curled his massive dark wings around the pair and shielding them from view.

A minute passed before the angels leaned back and Raphael folded his wins tightly against his back. He laid a hand on Castiel's throat, removing it a second later with a nod. Castiel nodded back and Raphael stood, gesturing for Gabriel to follow. The archangel did so, curiously dreading to know what Castiel had told the healer.

Once they were out of earshot, Raphael stopped and turned to Gabriel with a stormy look upon his face.

"What did they do to him?" Gabriel asked.

"In order to force him to reveal his wings, they tortured him. When conventional human techniques failed to produce a result, they tried more satanic rituals. In the end, they poured flaming holy oil down his throat."

Raphael's voice was rough with anger, and Gabriel's own fury ignited with ferocity. He could imagine the scene – the blonde ordering her henchmen to hold back Castiel's head, pour the flaming oil. He could picture her watching with nothing but greed as Castiel writhed in pain and his wings thunderclapped into visibility. Literally – a sound like thunder echoing through the building as agony shot through the angel's body, forcing his wings to become visible.

"I wish I'd killed her slower," Gabriel growled, his own wings flashing out and beating the air in anger. Raphael calmed him with a strong hand on the blonde's shoulder.

"Do not worry about what you cannot change. Just stay with Castiel, help him heal."

Gabriel nodded, too angry to speak. He turned away from the healer and walked back to his brother, collapsing to his knees beside him.

"I am so sorry," he said, staring into Castiel's eyes. There was no anger there; just regret. The injured angel leaned forward and touched his forehead to Gabriel's and spoke to him through his mind, connecting with his brother so closely it was almost as if they were one.

It was not your fault. You aren't to blame.

Yes I am. I should have realised sooner and saved you quicker.

I still lived. I will live. It doesn't matter either way.

How can you not hate me after I almost got you killed?

It had nothing to do with you. If anything, I am happy that you came at all. No one else was coming – only you had the understanding to know I was in danger.

I failed you.

Only if I had died. But I am here, do not worry anymore.

They tortured you. They put you through all that pain. The holy oil...

I knew someone was coming. I knew you were coming.

I didn't even know until it was almost too late to save you...

When will you learn, Gabriel, to just be quiet?

When there is nothing left to apologise for.

Then I should hear silence, as there is nothing.

Gabriel broke away, leaving Castiel disorientated for a moment. As Gabriel moved to stand, his brother grabbed his wrist to stop him. The archangel took one look at the pleading in Castiel's eyes and fell back onto the ground with a sigh. He could never leave his brother like that.

Wasn't your fault...

/\/\

When Dean awoke, sunlight was playing across the bed from the window in the far wall. He blinked blearily, his head spinning and pounding like a jackhammer was working inside. He groaned, sitting up as he tried to remember what had happened last night.

Bar. He got drunk. That chick who looked like...

It all flashed back to him so fast he nearly fell back on the bed. He groaned again, rubbing a hand over his face. The last thing he remembered was sitting behind the wheel of the Impala. Looking around, he realised he was in the motel room. How had he gotten back? If he'd driven, he was one lucky son of a bitch not to drive himself off the road.

"Dean?"

The hunter glanced over as he heard his brother's voice. Sam was curled up in a chair, now stretching as he woke up fully. He was looking at his brother with half-worry, half-relief. Had something happened last night to make Sam look like that? Or was he just still too drunk to know what he was talking about?

"Jesus Sammy," was all he got out before he realised he didn't know what to say. For once, he was lost for words. He must have drunk too much.

"You okay?"

"Will be."

Silence. Dean did his best to stop the world spinning until Sam decided to speak up again. When he did, Dean nearly fell back onto the bed again, though not from dizziness or disorientation this time.

"Raphael turned up last night while you were out. Castiel made it."

"He made it? He's alive?" It was too much for his brain at the moment to comprehend.

"Yeah. He's gonna be okay," Sam smiled.

Castiel was going to be okay. Dean had been waiting to hear those words for days. And now that he'd heard them, a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He hadn't killed Castiel. He might have been the cause of all this, but he hadn't killed the angel. Castiel would probably want to kill him, but he didn't care.

Castiel was alive, and that was all that mattered.

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