Hey guys,
So I had to call in sick at work today 'cause I woke up feeling awful but I thought, I can use this time wisely and here we are.
I swear this fic was supposed to be nicely wrapped up by now but these dorks had other ideas.
Enjoy ^_^
As they got closer to Sam, Castiel could feel himself weakening. He still wasn't entirely sure what was wrong but he had a feeling it had something to do with Asmodeus' sinister last words. Castiel suspected that in his final moments, Asmodeus had indeed poisoned his grace like he had promised. He kept that theory to himself, of course, there was no point worrying about that.
Castiel also noticed that one of those conversations that hung almost out of his hearing was much stronger, there were still others, of varying distances and volumes but this one seemed linked to Sam somehow. There was something else too, another feeling, dim and familiar, but he couldn't place it, he wouldn't let himself.
"I don't think Sam is alone," Castiel said, "although I can't tell if this is good or bad, he seems nervous, although not frightened or hurt." Mary's mouth was a thin line as she nodded, her hand snaking to her gun. Castiel almost summoned his blade but resisted. Sam's anxiety didn't feel related to the conversation but it was rather hard to tell. It was best that Mary be ready for one thing and Castiel for the other.
As they walked, Castiel caught sight of a clump of building-like structures though the trees to their left, it was too dark for Mary to see them, although there was a faint flickering of firelight, mostly hidden by the solid shapes. Castiel didn't bother pointing them out to Mary, Sam's pull was at a different angle and Castiel very much doubted that she wanted to stop and sight-see.
They finally emerged into a clearing and spotted Sam immediately, standing in front of a huge, black stone that was swarming with light that nobody else seemed able to see; he was at least a head and a half taller than every other creature in the clearing. And there were a lot of those. Mary's gun was up faster than a blink, aiming at the thing standing next to Sam, Castiel's hand was on the barrel just as fast, forcing it down as every eye in the clearing turned to them. The conversation at the edge of Castiel's understanding buzzed into a frenzy, making his head swim, but it didn't feel altogether violent.
"Mom?" Sam said, bewildered, taking as step towards them, the creatures, what had Dean called them? Krugers? Parting to let him pass, "Cas?" his eyes flickering between the two of them before settling on Mary, "How-?"
"Sam." Mary's voice was strangled, she seemed just as overwhelmed as her son. The two of them rushed together, embracing tightly, speaking so softly that Castiel chose not to listen out of respect for their privacy. Once they broke apart, Sam turned Castiel, his hand lingering on his mother's shoulder.
"Hello," Castiel said. The word felt thick on his tongue. "We found… I couldn't… Sam, I couldn't heal him." His voice cracked as a wave of loss and guilt broke over him, his knees gave out and Sam caught him, holding him up, pulling him in for a hug.
"It's okay," Sam said, his own voice wobbling, "I know, it's okay."
Castiel pulled away from the hug, from the comfort he didn't deserve and wasn't ready to accept.
"It's not," he insisted, meeting Sam's eyes, Sam looked too collected, too hopeful; he didn't understand, "his soul was gone, no trace of Heaven or Hell, noth-" He stopped, his gaze sliding past Sam, he had just felt a nudge from that other strange feeling again, it was coming from the boulder; he pushed Sam aside and stumbled up to it, the Krugers shifted around him uncomfortably, confused, but he paid them no mind, he ignored Mary too as she reached out to him, whether to stop him to help, he didn't wait to find out. He reached the boulder and touched it softly with a trembling hand.
"Dean is in here," he whispered. Something akin to pain and joy and relief and loss all rolled into one, he didn't know which one was real, or right, but he was certain of that feeling now, that one light in the thousands inside. It was Dean. He knew that soul, he had rescued it from Hell and it had saved him time and again, it was broken and cracked and flecked with darkness, full of anger and grief and pain and guilt, it was the softness of the fur of a baby mouse and the grit of gravel between the fingers. It was the most beautiful thing that Castiel knew, it was Dean Winchester.
"What?" Mary breathed, breaking the spell, Castiel whirled around, looking to Sam for confirmation, Sam nodded with a small smile, the light of hope blazing in his eyes. Mary strode up to her youngest son and punched him on the arm. Castiel moved towards them a few paces, although he knew that Sam wasn't in any actual danger.
"Ow!-"
"You should have called!" Mary yelled at him through her sudden tears, "You should have prayed to tell us that he wasn't… that he could…"
"I'm sorry." Sam said, "I didn't want to hurt you. In case it didn't work."
"How do we make it work?" Castiel growled desperately.
"We can't." Sam said with a half-hearted shrug, "either it will or it won't. They tell me it's based on strength of bonds or something." He gestured to the Krugers, then grinned, "so it's pretty lucky you guys are here. We're the three people with the strongest bonds to Dean, right? It can't hurt."
One of the Krugers stepped out of the crowd next to Castiel, it was the same one that had been standing next to Sam.
"That's the leader," Sam said, "they don't have names. They communicate telepathically, it's really cool." His eyes lit up as he said it, looking every bit the scholar he still was at heart.
Castiel nodded his acknowledgement and focussed his attention on the Kruger, who seemed to be trying to subtly move over to Sam, probably to communicate. Castiel considered the conversation in his head, searching through the different threads and eventually found one that match the Kruger's specific aura. He tapped at it politely with his grace, the Kruger's head snapped back to him in a heartbeat. A moment later, it allowed him access. They swapped questions and knowledge back and forth quickly, both of them far more practiced at this form of communication than Sam had been, Castiel was amused at how simultaneously arduous and intriguing Sam's meticulous care in choosing each thought had been for the Kruger. The Kruger found the concept of angels fascinating, just as Castiel pressed to know more about the process of Dean's soul returning. The Kruger also asked if all grace felt as his did, he replied that they did not, each was unique, but his had been recently compromised so felt less like it should.
It was only when Mary coughed awkwardly that Castiel realised they had been silently staring at each other for a solid few minutes. They broke their connection and Castiel felt the conversation snap back to something separate from him, the leader turned back to the others, relaying the wealth of information it had just received.
"When the moon is at it's highest point." Castiel told Mary, "they believe the moon itself chooses who to bring back, who will benefit the group most. It seems that there is something that helps to keep their population numbers steady. After their final death, their stones are inhabited by new souls. They are born fully developed, but must learn their skills through the connection. I think it has to do with the stones themselves, perhaps they cause the connection, a specific type of radiation perhaps." He paused then, Sam was nodding, interested, but Mary rolled her eyes and glared up at the moon, as though daring it not to choose her son.
"Whatever it is, we haven't been exposed long enough to be able to rely on Dean coming back later." Sam said, "I think we get one chance at this. It's got to happen tonight."
Castiel nodded, that made sense, any radiation that Dean had picked up was surface level, it hadn't gone deep enough to keep him in stasis for very long without degrading his soul entirely, it was only luck he had been exposed enough to even leave a pebble. The strength of his mental connections also seemed to be a factor, and with all of them here there was no better chance.
So they waited in silence while the moon inched its slow way upwards. A lot of the Krugers were tense around them, some of them seemed curious, others wary, some seemed to feel duty bound to stay, but many got bored of waiting and vanished back into the trees. Soon, there was only a select few, then fewer, then even the leader decided to leave, whether to give them privacy or because because it had other duties to attend to it didn't say. When the moon was almost there, Mary grabbed Sam's arm.
"Whatever happens," she said, her eyes fixed on the boulder, "we go home tonight."
Sam swallowed hard but nodded, "Yeah," he said, "okay."
Castiel said nothing, keeping his eyes on the swirling light of Dean's soul. Please, he thought, though he wasn't entirely sure who he was praying to. Every part of him was on edge, straining with tension. Just… please.
The moon hit its zenith and not a breath left the lips of the three watchers. Mary held her youngest son's arm tightly, Sam moved his other hand to grip the shoulder of the coat she was still wearing, Castiel felt so taut that he could snap at any second, his teeth clenched. He blinked away the dizziness that muddled his brain, he was shaking, his grace vibrating uncomfortably, threatening to turn to nausea again, but he kept his eyes on Dean's soul, memorising its every blemish and scar.
The minutes passed in thick silence and the moon shifted in the sky, moving on, away from hope. Eventually, Mary dropped Sam's arm and turned away, tears fell down Sam's face but he didn't otherwise move, not quite yet ready or able to give up. Castiel moved back to the boulder, it wasn't a conscious decision, just a longing, a need. If this was to be Dean's true death, he didn't want the Hunter to think he was alone.
The world tilted beneath him as he stumbled forward but he persevered. When he finally knelt before the boulder, he reached out a hand and placed it on the unyielding stone, closest to where Dean's soul had drifted. He sent out a pulse of grace, the effort left him weak, his fingers slipping on the rock, his arm trembling.
You're not alone, Dean, he thought, I'm here.
Dean's soul looped closer to where his hand rested, and the two almost touched, separated only by stone. Castiel felt a bolt of presence. Warm and comforting. It felt like Dean, it felt like home. In that moment, he knew that if Dean asked him to, if he was capable of asking anything in this disembodied state, he would stay here forever. If he could provide even a small measure of comfort to Dean's soul he would stay until his grace disintegrated, until the poison inside of it took him over completely. Dean would not be left alone to fade away, the man who had taught him what home meant, what family meant. The man who had accepted him for his flaws and his limitations and still relied on him for help. The man to told him when he was wrong, who trusted him to make the right decision, who made him want to try harder, to be better. The man who had shown him what it was to truly love someone, with every fibre of his being.
The soul didn't ask, and after a few seconds, it floated away from the point of contact, deeper into the main hub of souls, Castiel kept his gaze trained on it, though his eyes had blurred, the feeling of Dean pulled away, getting smaller. It hadn't worked, the radiation that had kept him here was fading, Dean was leaving, to go somewhere Castiel couldn't follow.
"No!" He yelled, slamming his hand down against the hard stone. "No! Dean, come back to me, please!"
He didn't know how long he sat there, searching for Dean's soul, the one that was now missing. His cheeks were wet, his insides were numb and that was so much worse than any outburst of emotion. He had lost people before, he had grieved for his siblings and his friends, but it had never felt like this.
"Cas,"
"No." His voice was a void, emotionless and cold, he recognised the voice, it was the voice he had had nine years ago, before he had learned how to question, how to think, before he had learned the wonder of humanity, before he had come to know Dean Winchester.
"Come on Castiel, we have to go."
"I can't."
"Sam, get him up."
Sam's strong arms were surprisingly gentle as they slid under his shoulders and heaved him to his feet. They held him for longer than was strictly necessary, Castiel could feel the understanding in that half-hug.
"I know," Sam murmured, and Castiel knew that it was true, "I'm sorry."
"I never told him."
"You didn't need to." Sam said softly, "it's going to be okay."
"He's gone." Castiel whimpered, fully aware and ashamed at how pathetic he had become, how quickly he had lost his composure; this was just too much, his head was pounding, his grace rebelled inside of him, his legs could barely support him and he would never see Dean's face again. He doubled over, vomiting onto the dirt, Sam cried out in shock and let go, he crumpled like a discarded puppet, his whole body heaving, he felt his grace being expelled, he tasted the foulness of corruption as it left his body, ceasing to be a part of him. He couldn't recall it to himself. The grace that was left was barely enough to keep him fuctional, he knew instinctively that he would not become human when the last of it was gone, he would simply lose himself. His body would forget that it was anything but an inanimate object and his grace would scrape his insides clean and what amounted to his soul and would be burned away. Right now, he couldn't bring himself to care all that much.
Sam's arm was on his back, rubbing gently. Once he was done, Castiel sat back, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet once more.
"I'm sorry," he said, "you're right, we need to go." He hated the dead tone of his voice but ironically, his head was clear despite his wooziness. He needed to see Sam and Mary safely back home, and he would protect them for as long as he could. Dean would have been disgusted with him if he did anything less.
Xxx
Sam stayed close to Cas as they turned to leave the clearing, in case he fell. The angel's skin was pale and clammy and his eyes had an unfocused, glassy look to them that seemed to be more than just grief. Angels didn't get sick; this was a point Castiel had made every time he or Dean had been laid up with a cold, grumbling good-naturedly while he tended to them, fetching them tissues and heating up tins of soup. Whenever Castiel was ill, something was very wrong. Not that plenty wasn't already wrong. The broken sound of Cas' begging as he pounded on the boulder had shattered the illusion of hope that he had been gripping so tightly to. Castiel would never have given up if there were even the slightest chance to save Dean. Watching the man who was usually so calm and in control lose it like that had twisted his heart and stabbed it home that Dean wouldn't be returning with them. Mary walked ahead of them, her back stiff, resolutely strong. Sam knew that she was waiting for a safe place before she would let herself feel what she needed to; she was like Dean in that way, except that Mary would allow him to help her the way Dean never had. He was perturbed by how functional he was, but he had spent the better part of the past two days processing his grief, this final blow felt more like closure than anything else.
Suddenly, they were all thrown forwards in a blast of orange light. Sam only just managed to throw his hands out in time to stop himself breaking his nose on the ground, he scrambled to turn over, to find the source. The boulder was glowing. Then, with a sound like an avalanche, it split open, pebbles spilling to the ground. The three of them regained their footing and as one, stared in awe at the supernova of light.
One pebble out of the hundreds that littered the ground began to glow. The light formed a skeleton, then sinew, muscle and organs, tissue and cartilage, threaded through with a map of veins and arteries, then skin and hair and even, inexplicably, clothes.
Dean lay there, eyes closed, looking all the world like he was just midway through a blink while looking up at the stars. Then his eyes snapped open and he gasped. Jumping to his feet, looking down, testing his right arm, confused.
"Dean!" Sam yelled, he was the first to reach his brother, he flung his arms around him, making him stumble backwards at the unexpected force. After a few seconds of bewilderment, Dean returned the hug, slapping him on the back with a half-amused huff,
"Hey, little brother, it's okay Sammy, it's okay." He said, his voice softening as he noticed Sam's desperate grip and the way his shoulders were shaking, Sam didn't care, Dean was back, it had worked. He pulled back and held Dean by his shoulders just to look at him, to take in his face, make sure it was the same. It was.
"Don't you ever jump of a cliff to avoid getting eaten by a dinosaur again. Do you understand me?" There was no true anger in his voice, only relief, only love. Dean chuckled and the sound wrapped around him like a child's favourite blanket.
"You realise how insane that sounds, right?" He asked, grinning.
Sam huffed, barked a laugh and nodded, pulling Dean in for another quick hug before Mary reached them. As Sam stepped back, Dean turned to her, Sam noticed that she looked a lot more hesitant to believe in this than he had been. Her steps were slow and measured and her eyes were guarded. Sam smiled, her and Dean were so alike in some ways.
"Mom?" Dean whispered, awed. "Jack saved you?" He blinked, "why are you wearing Cas' coat?"
"It's cold," Mary said defensively, "and he did, a while ago now. We've been trying for months to find Kaia, to open up a new portal-"
Dean cut her off, enveloping her in a hug. Something seemed to break and she folded into him.
"I thought I'd lost you," she whispered, so softly that Sam almost couldn't hear. "I thought we'd have to go home without you. I'm so sorry, Dean."
"Hey," Dean murmured, "I'm sorry. I gave up on you too. I'm just glad you're okay."
Mary's face was wet with tears when she pulled back. She placed a hand on his cheek, running her thumb over his cheekbone. Dean leaned into the touch. Sam smiled at the sight. Their family was whole again. Well, almost. Mary's hand dropped as Dean's eyes slid behind her, to where Cas was still standing on the edge of the clearing.
Dean stepped around Mary who walked over to stand by Sam instead. He reached for her hand and squeezed, they were both still shaking. Dean's smile turned to a frown as he looked at Cas, Sam couldn't blame him, the angel's face was gaunt and paler than any human had a right to be, let alone an angel, contrasting oddly with his dark hair, which stuck up at odd angles from the wind. He half-leaned against a tree as though he didn't trust his body to support him, and the look on his face was one that Sam couldn't define. Like he had just had to confront something painful, like he was staring directly into the sun and knew he would be blinded, but what he witnessed was worth it.
"Hey buddy," Dean said, as though approaching a frightened dog, "you came."
"I had to bring you home," Cas said, his voice raw and gravelly, Sam didn't think he'd blinked since Dean had solidified, he pushed himself away from the tree, swaying slightly, Sam could tell that it was only sheer force of will keeping him standing. "I had to try."
"Thank you." Dean said solemnly, his own voice imbued with emotion, placing a hand heavily on Castiel's shoulder, "I knew you heard me."
"You're a moron." Castiel said suddenly, "you found Jack and you didn't call me? Granted you would have just been calling Asmodeus but still, you should have tried to include me in something so reckless and stupid as travelling to another world. Had I been able, I would have helped, you know I would have helped."
"Wait, back up a second, Asmodeus?"
Castiel shook his head and smiled, it was a genuine smile, but Sam thought there was something off about it.
"It doesn't matter," he said, glancing over at Sam and Mary, as though asking them not to interfere, Sam exchanged a look with his mother, who shrugged.
"Dammit, I can't even be mad at you. You're alive." Castiel said the last two words with such wonder, like they were the most beautiful and precious descriptive words he could think of.
"You can't be mad at me, huh?" Dean said, huffing a laugh, "damn, Cas, are you okay?"
"Not particularly. But I am still processing, so give me a moment." His look settled back into that familiar intensity, with something deeper under the surface, it was the look he only ever used on Dean. "Let's start this over. Hello Dean, I'm glad you're alive."
"Dork," Dean muttered, using the hand on his shoulder to jerk the angel forwards into a hug. Sam could only see Castiel's face, it was scrunched tight and looked so vulnerable that Sam realised that his friend's current condition, whatever it was, was serious. But for whatever reason, he had chosen to try and hide it from Dean. After a few seconds, Castiel turned his face slightly to bury into Dean's neck.
"Missed you, Cas," Dean breathed, so low that Sam barely caught it. He looked away, worried, hoping that whatever was going on with Cas could be fixed quickly.
Dean then pulled away quickly with a glance over his shoulder as though he had just remembered they weren't alone, as though he was afraid that they would notice something. Sam rolled his eyes when Dean wasn't looking, his brother was always far too jumpy in moments like this, too eager to pull away, so concerned about being judged that he would rather hold in everything he was feeling, no matter what he actually wanted, there was so much that Dean left unspoken because he was being observed and Sam always worried that one day the habit would destroy him. He already burdened himself with so much guilt, he didn't need added regrets too.
Together, they left the boulder with its spilled treasures behind, although Sam insisted on diverting through the Kruger village, giving Dean an abridged explanation and saying that he wanted to say goodbye. Dean rolled his eyes but agreed, tensing as the Krugers approached, clearly fighting the impulse to draw the blade that Sam had handed back to him. The leader grimaced at Dean and raised its hand but Dean shied back. The Kruger nodded instead and withdrew, turning briefly to Cas for what he assumed was a few last-minute questions. Then it placed its palm on Sam's head, Dean like a coiled spring beside him.
We are glad he returned, it said, we wish you well.
Sam repeated the sentiment back and added good luck with those other tribes. You know, misunderstandings can be fixed if you can find other ways to communicate.
The Kruger let out one of those guttural laughs, perhaps we will try. It said with resolve. Goodbye.
Then it removed its hand and stepped back, the eyes of all the Krugers that weren't in their homes following them as they left, back in the direction of the beach.
Sam almost wished they could have stayed longer, or at least that they had a way to stay in touch, check in. There was so much more he wanted to learn. But as they reached the river, he felt a peace settle on him. He was glad to be going home.
Xxx
"Well, this is freaking weird," Dean said as he stared down at his own body, the skin tinged blue with splodges of purple bruises. "Gross. I'm glad I haven't got that busted arm anymore."
"Getting back up on that cliff would have been a bit trickier if you did," Mary agreed. She had been walking almost in step with him the whole time, finding small excuses to touch him, a smudge of dirt on his brow, a stumble that meant their arms brushed. Dean didn't mind, he figured it was a lot to take in, he knew from experience how it didn't feel quite real when someone came back from the dead unexpectedly, contact was needed, proof that they were solid, he understood, he felt it too. He hadn't really been expecting to see her again either. But she looked so small, engulfed in that coat. Dean couldn't help but smirk as Mary stepped into the river, the bottom half of the coat was already ragged, Cas clearly couldn't keep it clean when he wasn't wearing it.
"You're gonna have to do the laundry when we get back, Cas," he joked, nodding at the muddy coat, now getting half a thorough soaking as Mary waded across, the water reaching her waist. Cas smiled at him, though the smile was pained. He'd noticed Cas lagging behind the whole way back here, almost seeming to deliberately keep out of his view as much as possible when he turned his head to check on him.
"Well I'm not going to let you do it," Cas retorted, "you'd probably pour bleach on it or something and completely ruin the fabric."
"Only deliberately." Dean tipped him a wink and the angel huffed a laugh, "come on, you first." They had agreed to cross the river in single file, in a strong current it was the safest option. Sam was already on the other side, waiting for them at the mouth of the cave, Cas hesitated.
"You should go first," he said, "you're only newly resurrected, your muscles might not be at their full capacity. If you should fall I'd rather be able to grab you quickly."
Dean raised an eyebrow, the response was too quick, too well-reasoned, even by Cas' standards. But he shook his head and began to cross the river anyway. The current was pretty strong and at its highest point the water came up to his hips. It was shockingly cold. But Dean was in a pretty good mood and the water was rejuvenating. He actually stopped to splash some on his face. He caught Sam rolling his eyes good-naturedly. Then, when he was almost at the beach on the other side, he heard a splash. He glanced back to find Cas on his knees in the water, which now reached his neck. His hair was plastered to his head, he had clearly been fully submerged for a second in his fall. Dean ran back to him, or, shuffled as quickly as he could, Cas had only been a third of the way through the river although Dean was sure he had heard his feet hit the water only a few seconds after his own. Cas was halfway to standing by the time Dean got there, though he seemed to be struggling against the current. That was definitely weird, Cas should have been able to coast through this thing.
"There was a-uh some weed," Cas said by way of an explanation when Dean reached him and grabbed his arm to steady him, pulling him up the rest of the way, "my foot got tangled,"
Dean frowned. "Don't lie to me Cas, you made me watch too much Attenborough. Weed won't take root properly in a current like this."
Cas' wide eyes looked like a rabbit in headlights.
"I wasn't aware I had to defend my clumsiness," Cas said, defensively, walking on, his steps slow and shuffling as he swayed, buffeted by the current.
"You didn't. Clearly you felt like you had to. So what's up? You're acting weird."
"Can we not have this conversation in the middle of a river? You're going to catch a cold."
"At least I'm not going to drown." Dean called after him as he started wading again.
"I can't drown, Dean, I don't need to breathe." Cas replied.
Dean grumbled, noting Cas' unnaturally straight posture, the way he dipped every so often as though he had briefly lost his footing. Cas was hiding something. But he made a good point, perhaps the middle of a river was not the best place to talk. The water was very cold, and the air was barely warmer. He was shivering by the time he reached the other side, Mary immediately gave him Cas' coat. Insisting he put it on, it was the only reasonably warm piece of clothing between them.
He felt ridiculous, but it was warmer than just his flannel. Sam smirked and turned away quickly, Mary nodded satisfied, noticing his shivering recede. It smelled pretty good too. Like the crackle of electricity after a lightning storm and heavy rainfall on earth. Cas leaned against the rock wall of the tunnel casually, waiting for the others. But his eyes softened when they looked at him in the trench-coat. It was a strange look, and Dean couldn't pinpoint the emotion behind it exactly, amused probably, the coat definitely did not suit him. Give him a good old flannel any day, far more manoeuvrability. He flapped the arms experimentally and grimaced but strode past Cas into the tunnel, patting him on the shoulder as he did so.
They got to the rocky outcropping without incident although when they emerged, the chill wind hitting them after the calm tunnel, Dean swallowed hard and refused to look down. The trench-coat whipped around him and he closed his eyes for a second, trying to dispel the nausea, although there was something behind it too, something that he never usually felt when he was up this high; a sense of power that he was pretty sure came from the smell of lightning clinging to the coat, he wondered if that was how Cas felt during a storm, he often found excuses to go out in them, something that Dean had never really understood, just putting down to one of Cas' quirks.
He turned back to face the cliff wall and watched as Sam easily pulled himself up. Beanpole. Dean gave Mary a boost and she grabbed Sam's outstretched hand, then, as though jumpy at the thought of being alone with Dean in case he tried to talk to him again, Cas went next, although he refused the offer of a boost. He jumped instead, grabbing hold of Sam and allowing himself to be hauled up, although when Cas placed his own arm on the cliff top to push himself further over, Dean thought he noticed a tremble in the angel's arm, but it could just have been a trick of the light.
Dean shook himself and took his own leap of faith, Sam making a few wisecracks about how heavy he'd gotten before he too was safely on top of the cliff. He subtly shuffled away from the edge before getting to his feet, but took one last look at the view. It wasn't half bad. Trees stretched for miles, cut through by slices of rivers and clearings. The sun was only just peeking out over the horizon, the sky a pale blue-grey. He felt a bittersweet kind of goodbye welling in his chest. He wouldn't miss this place, not exactly. Especially not this cliff, but the world itself had been a respite for a time. Hunting and killing, no need to think. It probably wasn't healthy but he could think of worse things than a life like that, just surviving, no need to worry about the state of the world at large, just your own little pocket and how you could keep on chugging. The others reached him and they headed back into the forest, Cas taking the lead. He and Jack were talking through prayer, apparently, Cas could follow that pretty easily, especially with the portal open.
About half an hour later, Dean noticed Castiel's ramrod straight posture and frowned.
"What's up, Cas?" Dean asked, loudly. He ignored the look that Sam and Mary shot at each other. Cas stopped and turned, there was a slight sheen of moisture to his brow and he cleared his throat before replying,
"Jack thinks the portal is getting smaller," he said grimly, we're still a few hours away, we should hurry."
"Well alrighty then, let's hustle," Dean said, quickening his pace to walk next to the angel. Sam and Mary hurried too, although they lagged a little behind, Sam clearly choosing to keep Mary company rather than lengthening his stride. Cas' posture didn't change and his pace didn't waver, but there was a sheen of dampness to his face that Dean wasn't sure could be blamed on his recent dip in the river, he was also paler than usual, and he seemed to be struggling with the punishing pace he set.
"What was that you said about Asmodeus before?" Dean asked quietly, "what's he got to do with anything?"
Cas sighed, "that's where I've been for the past few months," he said, "after I left to find Jack, Lucifer showed up, having escaped apocalypse world with a fraction of his grace, he's back at the bunker now, in the dungeon by the way, and Asmodeus tracked him while we were talking and he captured the both of us. Any calls you received, all except the first, were from him, imitating my voice."
Dean glanced over at Cas, frowning, "what did he do to you?" he demanded.
"It's a long story,"
"Yeah? Well we've got some time to kill,"
"No," Cas said, "we really don't. We shouldn't waste our strength on discourse. When we're back on Earth, I'll explain everything."
"That's bull," Dean said, "and since when did you and Lucifer talk? He killed you. Didn't I tell you not to do anything stupid?"
"Trust me, I was wary," Cas said, sounding tired, "but when we get back I think you should hear him out. It seems that the Michael of that world is using their Kevin to try and break through to ours. It's a whole thing."
"Right." Dean said sarcastically. They walked in silence for a few more minutes, Cas seemed glad. Dean was just playing his words over and over in his head.
"So Asmodeus was calling us, pretending to be you, and I fell for it?" Dean said. Cas' mouth was a thin line as he nodded.
"How did I not realise?" The question was directed mostly at himself, but Cas answered him anyway.
"It wasn't your fault, Dean. Asmodeus was very convincing."
"Yeah, but he wasn't you."
Cas turned to look at him, surprised. "You weren't to know."
"I've known you for nearly a decade, I should be able to tell when it's a fake. Like when Lucifer possessed you, I knew something was wrong but I just didn't know what until Sam told me."
"Stop." Cas said exasperated, "You can't blame yourself for Asmodeus' plan. Even if you had guessed that something was off, would you have stopped your search for Jack? The answer to that should be 'no' by the way," he added with a stern look, "you had another mission, you didn't need to worry about me."
"I always worry about you, Cas!" Dean burst out. "When you go off on your own on some noble calling I always worry. You're family. You know that."
Cas said nothing and Dean fumed silently. Not that Cas really could have done anything different, but he hated when the angel tried to act as though he was separate from them, like he wasn't really part of their team. That wasn't how Dean felt at all. Sometimes, Dean felt like Cas was the only person who truly knew him. He had seen that wretched creature down in Hell and he had saved him anyway. And he hadn't left, although he knew that a part of Dean was still that creature, would always be that creature, he had stayed. And that meant something, at least to him.
But when he glanced at Cas' face, the expression there was so sad, so lonely and so bittersweet that Dean felt his anger change, it was still there, but it simmered more to concern, and at that moment, Dean wanted to help his friend rather than yell at him. He shrugged off the coat and held it out as they walked, repressing a shiver. Cas looked over, frowning,
"I don't feel the temperature, you need it more."
Dean shrugged, "you look weird without it."
Cas' lips twitched in a smile and he accepted the coat, slipping it on and fixing the collar where Dean had had it turned up against the wind. As he smoothed the fabric down Dean nodded appreciatively.
"Better." He said.
Cas grinned at him, and his stride was a little stronger after that.
Xxx
Castiel grimaced with the effort of maintaining his place at the front, he was very carefully trying to keep placing one foot in front of the other without looking like he was concentrating at all. The coat helped hide the occasional tremor that would sweep through him, though it did nothing for the nausea, which was building again. He forced it down, he wouldn't lose control in front of Dean, he didn't want the Hunter to see him like that. He didn't really have a plan for when they got back to the bunker but he knew he didn't have much time left. Over half his grace had already been vomited up and he knew he would have to rid himself of more soon. His eyes both wouldn't focus and seemed too sharp at the same time.
He navigated mostly by sound, keeping a constant stream of chatter with Jack that would only occasionally fade out or flicker in clarity. Castiel blamed the shrinking portal, he blamed the distance between universes and Jack seemed to accept these answers, but Castiel knew that it was him. His remaining grace was barely able to keep the connection open and he knew that if one of the others were to injure themselves now, healing them might shut down his ability to hear prayers completely. But they were getting closer, they were almost there, Jack said that the portal looked very small now, but suddenly it was in front of them.
Castiel almost sagged in relief as he saw the golden light of the portal. Dean let out a whoop and raced forward, laughing about how he was going to raid the kitchen, Mary followed with a bemused sort of affection, like she couldn't quite believe they'd made it. Sam hung back for a second, touching Cas' elbow to stop him.
"You need to tell him Cas" he said, "and you need to tell him soon,"
"Tell him what?" Castiel asked defensively.
"That you're dying." Sam's eyes were sad and concerned. "You need to tell him so that we can find a way to fix it, together. Lying to him and sneaking around will take time I'm pretty sure you don't have. And I won't watch him lose you again. I can't. So you need to tell him, as soon as we get back, okay?"
"I-" Cas didn't know what to say, he was overwhelmed, he often forgot just how observant the younger Winchester could be, "I don't know how, Sam. There might not be time to fix it. We might be talking days. If I tell Dean and it turns out I can't be saved, he'll blame himself."
"You think it won't destroy him to know that the last thing you did was lie to him?" Sam's voice was harsh but his eyes were kind. "Does Jack know?"
Cas shook his head, "it was Asmodeus' last act, specifically to make Jack suffer."
"Cas," Sam said, exasperated, "you can't keep doing this. You're important to us, okay? We care what happens to you and we want to help. You have to let us."
"But-"
"-Come on." Sam took him by the elbow and steered him through the portal, where the other were waiting, Dean looking antsy. As soon as they stepped onto the wooden table, however, Dean nodded and turned in the direction of the kitchen.
A few seconds later the portal vanished and the group in the war room dispersed. Mary left to take Kaia to Jody's. Jack wanted to catch up with Sam and Castiel stood alone in the war room. He slowly lowered himself into one of the chairs and sighed, willing the nausea to vanish.
His grace swirled inside him, there was far too little of it, even a basic healing would use more than he could afford. And who knew what it might take with it. He had no excess grace to spare, anything he lost now would contain something important, memories perhaps, or his ability to manifest his wings, or his knowledge on how to use his vessel. He contemplated that for a moment. Would he leave the vessel before dying, he wondered, or would he remain until the last second? He would seek freedom, he decided after a moment. It would be nice to feel a true angel again, if only briefly.
Dean shook him out of his morbid thoughts, planting a beer on the table in front of him.
"Of course, the first thing you do after living in a forest for months is find alcohol," Castiel said sternly,
"Shut up, Kaia ate all the chips so I had to make do. I'll make us all a proper dinner later, vegetables and everything, happy?"
"We're home." Castiel said, leaning back in his chair. "Everything's alright."
"Liar." Dean tapped his beer against the one he had brought for the angel, "drink up and talk to me."
Castiel took the bottle but didn't drink, he wouldn't be able to burn it from his system and he didn't think that something even mildly carbonated would help with his already peaking nausea, then he thought on Sam's words and placed the beer back on the table. He looked at Dean for a moment, his face was worried, open, like it rarely was. He just wanted to know. He had earned that much at least. Even if it made him angry and throw things. Sam was right, it wasn't fair to keep him in the dark about this. If the roles were reversed, Castiel never would have forgiven Dean for the lie.
"While I was in Hell, Asmodeus implanted a sliver of his self into my grace." Castiel began, returning his gaze to the beer bottle, "Lucifer explained that it meant he could use me as a spy, see into my mind, all my thoughts and memories, every prayer you sent," he glanced at Dean then, ashamed at the breach in privacy that Dean hadn't even known about, "Asmodeus could see and hear it all. Which didn't gain him much until he let me go. Without me realising, it had grown, and rooted itself inside my grace so that it could actually control my actions. It led me to find Jack, to forget about the reasons why I shouldn't and Asmodeus had me trap him in a circle of holy fire." The words were bitter on his tongue. "I betrayed him and I put him in danger. The boy I'd sworn to protect." He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"The kid seems fine." Dean said, his eyes boring holes into the side of Castiel's face, "I'm asking what happened to you?"
"Jack defeated Asmodeus. Probably killed him although I'm not certain. But before his influence left me it… well, it seems to have poisoned my grace." He forced himself to meet Dean's eyes at that, they were wide with horror. Castiel smiled softly at him, "I've been ill for the past few days, losing my grace. There isn't much left now and the next time I expel it, it's likely to take parts of me too. All I have left is what's keeping me able to move and think. Beyond that… I'm useless."
Dean's face had set into something akin to anger, but Castiel saw beyond that, he saw the fear and the pain and he hated that he was the cause.
"You're telling me you're dying?" Dean's voice shook.
"I'm being… erased from existence." Castiel said. He didn't need to say it. It wasn't kind to say it. But it was true, and now wasn't the time for lies. "I won't go back to the Empty, or to Heaven or Hell, I'll just be gone."
"How long?"
"I don't know. I might be able to hold it off for a few days but…" he trailed off, letting the silence speak for itself.
"Dammit." Dean said with quiet intensity, standing, his chair falling backwards with a clatter, then again, louder, "DAMMIT!"
"Dean-"
Dean leaned towards him, a threatening finger pointed at his face,
"No, Cas. We are going to fix this okay? I just got you back. I can't go back to that place."
Castiel frowned, confused, "Dean, my illness has nothing to do with that universe. You don't ever have to go back."
"That's not what I meant." Dean closed his eyes for a moment. "I won't lose you again, okay? I need you."
The words sent a trickle of warmth down Castiel's spine. It was heartbreakingly beautiful, watching Dean care. The way his jaw clenched and his throat bobbed with words held back, either angry or painful, he would never know. The way his green eyes blazed with passion, with fear and righteousness, exposing the soul beneath. Castiel's breath caught with the sight and he felt his own throat tighten. He was sorry to have caused that expression, but it meant so much that Dean thought him worthy of it.
"Right." Dean said, straightening up, "let's go deal with the Devil."
Xxx
"Dean," Cas' voice called after him as he strode out of the war room, but he ignored it, he heard a muffled curse and the sound of a chair toppling over as Cas scrambled to follow him but weakened as he was, Dean knew he wouldn't be able to catch up. He burst through the dungeon doors, and shut them behind him, sealing himself in with Lucifer. The archangel raised an eyebrow as he leaned casually against the wall.
"I'd say I was glad to see you but we both know-"
"-I hear you want something from us," Dean said, cutting him off. "I hear it's big, apocalypse big."
"Uh, yeah?" Lucifer said, seeming unsettled by whatever he saw on Dean's face, "so here's the thing, Mich-"
"I'm thinking we're gonna sit this one out." Dean said, casually, "I really don't need to hear the brief."
Lucifer gaped at him.
"You?" he said, "you are gonna sit back and let the world burn?"
Dean shrugged.
"Why?" Lucifer asked, tone suspicious, "I thought you cared about this dirt-ball."
Dean half-smiled, it was a humourless thing.
"Because I don't have a single goddamned reason to help you."
"Saving the world isn't reason enough? All those humans? Screaming, fire, war?"
"Been there," Dean said, "done that." He kept his voice calm, measured. "This particular mess has nothing to do with me."
"Listen kid, you don't seem to be understanding me here-" He was cut off once more as Dean slammed him to the wall, arm hard against his windpipe.
"Call me 'kid' again, go on, I dare you." He growled. Then, smirking at the choking sound Lucifer made instead, he dropped him. Lucifer rubbed his neck.
"Jeez," he said, "what crawled up your ass?"
"Your favourite freak did something to Cas, and you're gonna tell me how to fix it. Otherwise, I'mma carve me up an archangel." Dean slowly slid the blade out of his belt, "I hear you're powered down."
"Not that much, sunshine." Lucifer said, "I'm still a warrior."
"And I'm still what Alastair made me." Dean said, his voice low and dangerous. He noticed with satisfaction the flicker of fear behind those normally amused eyes, this wasn't the game Lucifer was used to playing.
"If your angel croaks, slicing me open won't bring him back."
"No," Dean said, then he smiled, "but damn will it be fun." He let himself think back to all he had learned in Hell, under Alastair's command, under his knife. He remembered the parts he didn't like to think about, the parts where he hadn't been screaming but laughing, the parts where he had loved what he was doing. He let those parts show now.
Lucifer smirked, though it was fleeting.
"I'm loving the theatrics Dean, but they really aren't necessary. I'll help you if I can. I mean… quid pro quo I guess. I help you with Castiel and you follow that little hero complex of yours and help me save the planet, deal?"
"When you've done your part I'll consider it." Dean said.
"Great. So what are his symptoms?"
"He's sick. He says he's losing his grace." He forced his voice to remain even, emotionless.
Cas' pale face swam in his vision, the way he had tried to hide his shivers, the way his walking had been too stiff, concealing the weakness of his legs. The look on his face when Dean had entered the war room, already so distant, so accepting.
"So Asmodeus poisoned his grace. Nasty."
"How do we fix him?"
Lucifer shook his head thoughtfully, "Grace is hardy stuff, Dean. It's hard to truly damage, and all superficial scrapes heal quickly, it also normally only takes seconds, a few minutes at most to almost completely replenish itself if it's used to extremes."
Dean waited, arms folded, his teeth clenched together.
"But one of the gifts I gave Asmodeus was a substance to turn a grace against itself and the angel it belonged to. To merge the two together, and cause it to rot. You see, angels aren't their grace. Their grace is most powerful and effective when used by them, true, and using another's grace feels… pretty gross. But if an angel loses their grace, even if it's destroyed, they merely become human. The spark of them lives on. Not quite a soul, but similar. But Castiel can probably feel what's happening by now. He's not just losing his grace, he's losing himself. It was an experimental poison I'd planned on using on Michael at one point. But I never did and decided to pass it on instead. I'd apologise but…" he shrugged, "C'est la vie."
"And the cure?"
"Never tested, only theorised. You need to separate his self from his grace. The poison will burn out the grace but if the self is intact then Castiel will live. He'll be human but he'll live. As long as the self is intact. There's no way to restore any memories or powers that he's lost."
"Not good enough." Dean growled, "how do we save the grace too?"
"You can't." Lucifer said, simply. "Unless you can separate some untainted grace from the poisoned stuff. But you won't find any. The poison spreads quickly. There's nothing pure angel about Castiel now." he huffed, "but I guess it's been like that for a while now, hasn't it?"
Dean's blood turned to ice in his veins. Cas would be human? Why did that thought disturb him so much? Cas hadn't minded being a human so much, had he? He had done well, finding himself a job, helping him on that case. And he would actually be with them this time. Dean still felt guilt churning in his gut whenever he thought about the look on Cas' face when he had told him he couldn't stay. Human was better than dead. But it was also a major, and permanent step down from angel and Dean didn't wanna put his friend through that if there was another option.
"So how do we go about separating it?" He asked, keeping his face neutral.
"Well, you're probably gonna need my son."
So there you go, the curveball I ran into. I can't wrap things up until we know what's going on with Cas, right?
What do you think? All feedback is love.
Love Tibbins xx
