A/N: Here ya go! Sorry if there seemed to be a lot of mistakes towards the end 'cause I was rushing to complete this. If you find any mistakes or whatever, feel free to drop a review and I'll try to correct as soon as possible. Anywayss, as usual, i hope you enjoy this chapter and REVIEW! :)

Castiel was breathing harshly, as was his brother who was leaning heavily towards him. With a grunt, they staggered towards the couch and he gently dropped Lucifer onto the soft cushions. Both of them were exhausted. The hunt had taken a lot from them (after all, they were now mere mortals) and what little energy they had left was drained out if them as they made their way back home on their feet, Castiel dragging and half-carrying his unconscious brother the whole way.

Castiel went to the kitchen to get some wet towels. He also got a small kitchen knife and placed it in boiling water. When he was certain that the knife was as sterilized as he could get it to be, he made his way back to the couch. It was relief that Lucifer was not awake because Castiel was sure that the pain would have been unbearable if he was conscious. Lifting his brother so that he could take a closer look at the wound, Castiel winced in sympathy. There was a lot of blooding, spreading a crimson red through his shirt. Peeling off the clothes slowly,he reached for the towels and dabbed gently at the blood soaked skin. Soon, the white towels were stained pink and most of the blood had been wiped off. Castiel gave a sigh of relief, the wound was not too serious and the bullet had not gone in that deep. Grabbing the knife, he slowly dug the blade in, twisting and turning to lodge out the bullet. It took a few tries and each time he pressed deeper, Lucifer gave a groan of pain and Castiel felt his guilt take root and grow.

It was all his fault, Lucifer was injured because of him. If only he had reacted fast enough, had moved out of the way in time, then Lucifer would not have gotten shot at while trying to save him. Balthazar was right, he was not ready for a battle and his foolishness had gotten his brother hurt. A wave of guilt washed over him and Castiel was so overwhelmed by his thoughts that he had failed to notice that his vessel was emitting a faint glow on the darkness of his room.

"Castiel!" the sharp cry jerked him out of his deep thoughts. He turned worriedly to his brother, only to find Lucifer staring at him, eyes wide in shock.

"What are you doing?" he gasped.

Castiel followed his line of sight and gave a gasp of his own. His hands were placed over the wound on Lucifer's chest and they were burning brightly. In front if his eyes, the wound began to heal itself, nerves and tissue growing back together until the skin that formed looked unbroken and new.

" How did you do that?" Lucifer demanded, voice laced with curiosity.

"I do not know, I was simply-" Castiel suddenly gave a yelp.

He felt a stinging pain growing in the left side of his chest which turned to a burning agony that just kept growing. His vision was turning white as the pain overtook him. Grasping the hem of his shirt, he rolled it up and saw a dark bruise forming on his chest, an the exact place where Lucifer was shot. The blood vessels around the bruise was a sickly blue, a shocking contrast to his pale skin.

"Are you okay?" Lucifer asked in concern as he looked at the bruise.

Castiel nodded shakily. "It hurts terribly but I will be fine."

He could see the unasked questions forming on his brother's lips and was glad for the sudden distraction as their front door slammed open.

"A waste of time..."

"Didn't even turn up..."

"I knew going on the hunt was foolish..."

Castiel could hear the annoyed grumbles of his brothers from the hallway and a few minutes later, they had crowded into the living room. By then, he had pulled his shirt back on and Lucifer had quickly scrambled to hide the towels and knife under the couch.

Michael's eyes widened in concern as he took in the sight of Lucifer's blood soaked shirt.

"What happened?" he exclaimed, gesturing towards it. "All that blood, are you hurt?"

Lucifer shook his head and immediately blurted out, "It's not my blood!"

Michael's gaze then fell questioningly on Castiel who followed his brother's lead and shook his head.

"Alright, what the hell is going on?" Balthazar demanded.

"It's just demon blood," Castiel lied.

At Gabriel's raised eyebrows, Lucifer launched into a recount of the entire night, omitting the part where he got shot.

Michael looked horrified at the fact that Castiel and Lucifer had gone on such a dangerous mission on their own while Gabriel whistled and Balthazar patted Castiel on the back. "Wow, Cassie! You sure showed those demons that you're one hell of a badass."

"They don't need to know we screwed up a bit." Lucifer whispered in a voice low enough only for Castiel to hear.

"You mean how I 'screwed' up" Casteil whispered back, staring guiltily at his lap.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and addressed his brothers. "I take it your night wasn't so eventful?"

"Oh it was eventful alright, but not the way we wanted it to be." Gabriel replied in an annoyed voice.

"What happened?"

"Met the Winchesters," Raphael replied curtly.

Castiel looked up and his ears perked. The meeting couldn't have gone well, the Winchesters hated the angels and expressed their opinions on them openly with their fists.

"Ah, so you met my Sammy!" Lucifer smiled. "How is he?"

"He is not your Sam," Castiel snapped.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at him, "You mean like how he's not your Dean?"

Castiel's ears burned up as he looked down. "Not anymore," he muttered to himself, too soft for anyone else's ears.

"Dean and Uriel were really excited to see other, they punched, kicked screamed..." Gabriel said

Castiel's brows furrowed in concern. " Is Dean alright?"

Uriel scoffed, "I hope not. I gave him quite a blow, he sank down to his knees, could hardly stand on his own legs."

Michael frowned at his brother. "You should not have done that."

Uriel ignored him and smiled proudly as Zachariah patted him on his back.

Much more was being said and there was talk about going out somewhere special to have breakfast the next morning but Castiel wasn't really paying attention. His thoughts were drifting off to Dean, concern clouding his mind. An idea was forming in his head and he mulled over it.


Later in the night, when everyone had retired for the night and gone to bed, Castiel slipped out of his room silently. Feet padding softly on the carpet, he left through the back door without any noise. Turning back to make sure that know one had seen him, Castiel quietly walked. His chest was still hurting quite badly but that wasn't his primary concern.

Trudging in the dark, Castiel arrived at Bobby's salvage yard. From a distance, he could make out the new angel proofing sigils that decorated the fence, gates and front door. For a moment, Castiel was worried that he would not be able to pass. However, it seemed that his weakened grace an mortal body allowed him entry and for once, Castiel was glad about it.

Once inside, he found Dean sleeping on the couch and Sam asleep at the table. As he got got closer, Castiel could see how badly the meeting with his brothers had gone. Dean's nose was a bloody mess, stuffed with tissues that were soaked in red. The bridge of his nose was bent at an odd angle and was bruised a dark blue. But that wasn't the worst if it. Castiel's heart clenched painfully at the sight of his hunter, wrapped in white bandages. He could tell that Dean had injured his back and judging by the amount of blood that drenched his dressing, Castiel could only assume that it had hurt tremendously. He took a tentative step towards and sank to the ground so that he was at eye level with the sleeping hunter. Castiel knew that he had promised himself that he would never come back, he would spare the Winchesters the pain of looking into the eyes of the one who betrayed them all. But Castiel could not simply just stay away. They were after all Sam and Dean, the two people who had stood by him when his whole garrison turned him away. They were the family that he had fought for and now that there was even the slightest chance that he could help them out at least a little bit, he was not going to turn it down.

Castiel's fingers shook as he reached towards Dean. Using the his fingertips, he ghosted over Dean's cheeks an finally rested on his nose. Remembering what he had done back on the mansion, Castiel mimicked the feelings that had ran through his mind. Concern, guilt, fear, the overwhelming sense if helplessness and the burning desire to make everything alright. Castiel's eyes closed shut tightly in concentration and within a few moments, even behind closed eyelids he could sense his body light up. In fascination, he watched as the bruises faded away and healed back. This time, the pain that Castiel felt was not unexpected. Instead, his eyes watered but he did not let a single sound escape his lips. Seating himself beside Dean on the couch, he then placed his hands slowly on his back. He did the same as he had done before and clench his fingers through the pain. Finally, the job was done and Castiel felt a small burden lift off his shoulders. It wasn't much, but he would take up any opportunity to help his friends.

With a very stiff back, Castiel turned to leave. However, he stopped in mid step as he heard a small whimper in the darkness of the room. Thinking that it was Dean, Castiel quickly turned around. However, it was the other Winchester. Sam was stirring restlessly in his sleep, cowering against something that could only be his hallucinations. At first glance, Castiel had though that his brothers had also hurt Sam but when he looked closer, Sam didn't look physically injured. Just tired, dark circles forming around his eyes.

It was probably not one of the wisest thing he had done and thinking back, he should have though over it but the instinct of protecting a friend took over Castiel and the next thing he knew, he was standing beside Sam, hands on both sides of his head.

"I should never have broken your wall, Sam." he muttered bitterly at himself. "I know you can't hear me, but I am truly sorry I did this to you."

Fingers grazed Sam's forehead and within a second, Castiel doubled over in pain. His head felt as though it was going to split open and images kept flashing through his head. Pictures of fire and pain overwhelmed his vision. The room felt suddenly too hot and the air too thick to breath. He felt as though he was back in hell except it was worse. This was in his head and he couldn't escape from it. Hands grabbing his hair, Castiel accidentally let a shout of pain escape him.

Summoning the remaining of his grace once more, Castiel covered himself from the eyes of any ordinary human and ran through the door and out of the house. Whether he was running to avoid being caught or running away from the hallucinations Castiel wasn't sure, he just knew he had to get away from there.


"Dude what the hell happened!"

Dean woke up with a start. Sam was pointing incredulously at his face.

"What? Did it get worse? Do I look horrible?" Dean asked, fingers flying towards his face.

It was then that he realized that something was wrong. For one, his back wasn't hurting at all, even when he had moved his arm wildly when he had woken up. Neither did his nose twinge in agony as he gingerly touched it.

"Look!" Sam shoved a small mirror towards him. He stared at his reflection. His nose had completely healed, without the bruises. In fact, it looked as though it had never been broken on the first place.

"Hang on," Dean ripped out the white bandages that covered his back. He looked over his shoulder and sure enough, his suspicions were confirmed. His back was smooth, without even the hint of a scar where he had been stabbed at.

"What the hell man? What sort of mojo did you do?" San accused.

"I didn't do anything!" protested Dean.

Sam shook his head. "Well whatever it was or whoever did it, it's really powerful."

Dean nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I don't even have a scar!"

"That's not what I meant." Sam looked at his brother meaningfully. "My hallucinations are gone too."

Dean rolled his eyes. "That's 'cause you're awake, doofus."

"Dean, you don't understand! My hallucinations were always with me, especially while I was conscious. I couldn't sleep for more than two hours and Lucifer would be yelling in my head to get up. He's haunting me wherever I go, even in my sleep. Except, except for last night. I actually had a decent six hours of sleep and when I woke up, he was gone."

Deans eyes widened. "But that-that's a good thing right?"

"No," Sam sighed in frustration. "Nothing ever really good happens to us without a price. And now with the angels suddenly back in the picture, I'm really worried."

"Yeah man, I get it. I don't trust them and I'm pretty sure they're brewing something big." Dean looked up at his brother. "What do you think we should do?"

Sam looked uncertain and hesitated a bit. "I was thinking that maybe we should.. get a hold of Crowley?"

Dean stood up abruptly. "What?! No way man! Are you crazy?" Dean couldn't believe his ears. What was his brother thinking? There was no way they were going to repeat the mistake of getting the help of that demon, not after what happened the last time.

"C'mon Dean! He's the only person who'd know what's going on. And if the angels are involved, I'm pretty sure he'd want our help too!"

Dean wanted to shake his head, disagree to the absurd and stupid idea, but he didn't. They were running out of leads, be it on the Leviathans or the angels and they really needed all the help they could get.

That was the reasoning he gave himself as Sam quickly gathered the ingredients needed to summon the demon. Dean helped by scraping of some of the demon warding sigils off the walls. With the flick of a match, they looked around the room, eyes searching.

"Hello boys, looking as charming as ever, I see."

Both boys turned around, weapons raised.

"I was thinking of dropping by," Crowley said.

Dean took a threatening step forward. "What do you know about the angels?" he growled.

For once, Crowley looked confused. " I though you could enlighten me about that actually."

"So you're telling me you know nothing about why they returned? Or how my hallucinations have suddenly disappeared?"

Crowley strolled towards them. "Why they returned, I have no idea, but I plan on finding out. As for you and your brother's magical recovery, I'm surprised that you boys haven't figured it out yet. Then again, intelligence wasn't your greatest asset, was it?"

Sam narrowed his eyes. "If you know something, just spit it out already."

Crowley sighed in exasperation. "Who else would go all Florence Nightingale on you but your pet angel?"

"What the hell do you mean?" Dean asked, confused.

"I'm talking about dear ol' Castiel, coming back from the dead." Crowley smirked.

Dean's heart pounded loudly and he could feel all the blood rush through his veins. No, it can't be...

"No," he shook his head not believing a word.

"I knew about the angels long before you and your brother did. I've been looking for that punk for a long time now. Once I get my hands on him, he is minced meat." Crowley smiled maniacally with a cruel glint in his eyes.

"Shut up, you're lying" Dean all but growled, fingers gripping the knife in his hands tightly.

"If you don't believe me, ask your brother," Crowley shrugged. "Heard that Castiel came here first and was chased away by Sam."

Dean felt as though he was going to going to throw up. He turned and glared at his brother. "Is that true?" He spat viciously at Sam.

Sam's heart was pounding loudly in his ears. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth and his mind raced with a million different possible lies. But faced with the accusing glare of his brother, he could only nod as he swallowed down thickly on the lump forming in his throat.