Castiel wanted to break into a gallop when he saw the small wooden cabin. It looked similar to Robert Singer's, only smaller. There were shoddy glass windows, covered in dust and webbed with fissures, a door that didn't close correctly, and a thatched roof with a short stone chimney. Dean suddenly reached into his pants pocket and fidgeted until he found whatever it was he was looking for. He pulled his fist out, and then twisted until his hand was resting over his opposite shoulder, gesturing for James to hold out his hand. Castiel did so, and felt himself gape in shock when Dean dropped his blue brooch into his pale hands. He had completely forgotten about it. Even if he had remembered it, he probably would have just assumed that the brothers had stolen it.

"Figured you'd want that back. Seems valuable," was all Dean said. Castiel quickly fastened it to the collar of his shirt and nodded in thanks.

They only moved a little closer to the house before Dean and Sam stopped their horses. Castiel was about to open his mouth when Dean dismounted. He looked to Sam for confirmation before the two nodded in silent understanding. Then Dean slowly approached the house. He didn't even head toward the door. He walked cautiously around the perimeter of the property, sword drawn, and posture defensive.

"What is he doing?" Castiel couldn't help asking.

"Checking to make sure there's nothing deadly waiting for us. Just because inside Rufus's house is safe doesn't always mean the outside of his house is." Sam made a very good point. Castiel was silently grateful that these men had decided to help him. They may have been rude and aggressive and unfortunately common, but they'd helped Castiel in a time of need; he decided if they should ever come into the kingdom, he would allow them certain immunities. He thought of which privileges he could allow with his stature.

Dean shook him from his thoughts with a loud curse. Sam looked concerned before Dean shouted that everything was fine but they had a bit of a problem. Then the younger brother rolled his eyes and sighed. He prodded Ford forward, and Castiel followed on Baby. They both dismounted and joined Dean on the front step. He was grumbling to himself and held a shred of parchment in his glove.

"Can you believe this?" he waved the note in Sam's face.

"Wh-what? Dean, sto-" he grabbed the thing from Dean's hand, "Gimme that!" He shook the parchment straight and began to read.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Dean scrubbed his hands through his hair and groaned in a frustrated manner.

" If you get this you pansy-ass princess, It's because you're late and I'm busy at the market. There's something hanging around these parts of the woods and I wasn't ready to handle it. " Sam shifted uneasily before continuing, " I suggest you haul ass back to the city if you plan on meeting your sister. There's food in the cabin. Good luck, Rufus… P.S. Don't die. " Castiel joined Dean in a groan. Sam rubbed at his eye before turning to his brother. "Dean…"

"No," Dean pointed angrily at Sam, "don't you dare."

"Dean…"

"Sammy, I swear to God, if you say it," he threatened.

"Dean, I told you this was-"

"God damn it Sam!"

"We should have left him with Bobby while we went after it."

"Yeah, well Bobby's keeping an eye on it and would have contacted you if he'd seen anything."

"Unless he couldn't find it," Sam pointed out. Castiel stayed quiet. How on earth was he going to get back to Celeta in time? If the brothers decided to abandon him, he wouldn't blame them; but he had no way of getting out of the forest. He looked over the tree tops as the sun finished setting. He supposed that if he could get them to draw a map for him, he could make it back to the city after spending the night at Old Knight Turner's, but that might take a day or two and then what? He'd be a day early. He couldn't stay in the Between Woods, he didn't think he could handle the anxiety every creak of the floorboards would cause or the rustle of the bushes would instill. Castiel was not made for that. He was the type to spend his days in endless search of information. He preferred strategy and tactics to the actual battlefield. He was about to ask the arguing brothers about the map when a growl silenced all three of them.

Castiel recognized that sound.

His feet froze to the ground, his eyes open in terror as the brothers quietly drew their swords. Castiel felt his breathing quicken and his heart rate pulse frantically. He was not ready for this.

"Hey, Blueblood, get your sword out, would you?" Dean whispered from right behind him. "It might not do you any good, but it'll make me feel a hell of a lot better." Castiel struggled to get the blade from its sheath. He let out a shaky breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Sam and Dean stepped slowly down off the porch and on to the ground. The growling grew louder. Castiel wanted to tell them to come back, to shout that it was dangerous. Finally, the beast showed itself. The same smoking scruff and smoldering eyes. It snapped its hellish jaws in a show of dominance and resumed growling. Its body faded in and out of Castiel's sight, like it didn't want to be seen, but it was more solid than before. Sam stood still only a few paces from where it hunched on its claws. The light around his head increased as he drew up more energy for his magic. His eyes held a fear that told Castiel he had never seen such a creature and had no clue where to begin in terms of attacking it. Dean on the other hand kept whipping his head around, looking for the creature that had Sam locked to the ground.

"Dean," Sam ventured almost inaudibly. Dean must not have heard him so he tried again. "Dean!"

"What? Where is this sonofabitch?"

"It's right there. I've never…"

"Where?"

"Right there. You don't see it?" Sam's voice edged on panic. Castiel saw what remained of the four arrows that had slowed the creature down half a week earlier. They were only four small stakes of wood amongst the mess of wiry black fur covering the beast. Dean's boot came down on a brittle branch in the darkness and everything went to hell.

The wolf creature lunged forward only to meet Sam's blade with its teeth. They sparred for a moment before jumping apart, Sam cursing under his breath, the creature pacing angrily and growling. It suddenly lifted its head to the air and sniffed. It turned towards Castiel and began growling terribly.

"What the hell?" Dean asked trying to edge his way to his brother. "What's going on?"

"D-dean," Castiel stuttered from the porch, "That's the thing that-"

"Are you freaking kidding me? It's coming after you again? Where the hell is this thing, Sam?" Sam pointed his sword at the beast and Dean began hedging his steps, gaining a little more on the wolf. It had started towards Castiel on the porch, but Dean didn't seem too keen on letting it get there. He listened carefully to where its low rumble was and suddenly lashed out, striking the creature once, right on the neck. It jumped at him, stumbling backwards at the quick weight change before slashing at Dean with its huge grimy paws. It only landed one blow before Sam was on it. He stabbed at its flanks and managed to draw a little more blood. The thing shrieked in an unearthly manner, and Castiel watched as it flickered in and out of perception. He stumbled carefully off the porch, sword held defensively in front of him. While Sam and the creature fought it out, Castiel tried his best to keep quiet in the dark and make his way to Dean.

"James, get your ass inside, would you? You're gonna get killed," Dean said as he used his sword to prop himself up. Castiel ignored him, and began scanning Dean's chest for the wounds the wolf had been sure to leave. There were two lines of blood seeping through the white sleeve of his shirt, but he didn't seem fazed. He ran to help his brother, pushing Castiel back towards the house.

The prince hated feeling so useless. If Gabriel were here, the beast would be dead by now. Castiel stepped towards the battle unconsciously. He felt his jaw clench. He was useless. He'd always been useless. He was the only member of his family without magic. He remembered his father's look of disappointment when the teachers had told him that his son was an anomaly. The mages had told him that was how these things worked: you traded magic for sanity within the family line. And now he would die, along with these brothers who'd given up their valiant hunt to help him on his way.

Sam was desperately trying to hack away the jaws that had his arm in their grip. Dean was stabbing the beast's flank wildly as he shouted Sam's name. The creature turned and roared at Dean. Its form smoked in a slow contrast to the action around it; the haze was hard to make out in the dark. Now Sam took up the stabbing while Dean parried each snap of the jaws with his sword. Castiel didn't know how he knew it, but something in Dean's posture told him that he was going to fall. It must have been the way his body leaned backwards as he retreated, or the way his steps sped up and erratically lost control.

He didn't know how it happened, but the last clear thought he had was that he owed these men his life and he wasn't about to let them die.

Dean had figured he was done for the moment he'd felt the putrid breath of whatever it was he was fighting float into his face. It smelt like burning bodies. That didn't mean he was going to lie down and take it. He slashed at it and waved his sword at it until the stinking blood that welled out of each slice covered the beast's head and showed just how ugly the thing was. He felt a little better about the battle once he could see where the thing was aiming for, but that didn't help his balance much. He could hear Sam's grunts of exertion and the sound of metal on flesh. The pain in his left arm was starting to catch up with him, but he kept moving. Just out of the corner of his eye, he noticed James standing near the porch. Poor guy would probably end up dead too at this rate. Dean almost felt bad, but he had more pressing matters at hand, particularly a large slobbering wolf the size of a donkey that was currently trying to take Dean's arm off.

He knew his steps were getting less precise. The beast was trying to close distance, lunging forward and snarling, then biting and screeching. His feet sped up. He was trying not to trip over any misplaced branch that would end his life, but it was difficult to multi-task and his weight was shifting further and further into his heels. He was going down. It was only a matter of time. He prepared himself for the end when it happened.

A hand grabbed his right shoulder, but it burned like the sun had moved and taken up residence up in his skin. The hand flung him to the forest floor harshly. When Dean opened his eyes, he almost believed he was dead. There was no way…it was impossible. James stood there in front of the beast with a hand on its disgustingly mutilated face. A bright blue light went off. It would have blinded Dean if he hadn't covered his eyes in time. He uncovered them when he heard a whimper and a thump. He gasped at the sight before him. Standing motionless in front of him was James, looking at him, his eyes glowing white and two enormous wings of light splayed out behind him. The dark night enunciated his glowing halo. Sam knelled a few paces behind the dead, burnt out body of the creature, now fully visible. Dean searched for words he could not find. Then James's glow began to falter, and he stumbled. When the lights faded from his body completely, he collapsed. His knees fell to the ground, he swayed, and then he laid face in the dirt.

The brothers stood and waited. They were silent for a long long while before Dean finally rushed over to James and flung his limp body over his shoulder and rushed into Rufus's home. Sam picked up the three swords that lay abandoned in the forest debris and followed his brother inside. He found the two in Rufus's room, James spread out on the bed, Dean sitting watching him with his elbows propped on his knees, his fingers laced under his chin. They kept quiet for a moment before Dean spoke.

"What the hell was that."