A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who's stuck through this so far, but especially the people who've been reviewing :) For someone who doesn't get paid to write, getting feedback is the best payment I could ask for!

So now we've seen what happened in the prologue through Cas's eyes. But meanwhile, back with Sam and Terry...

CHAPTER 9: Find a Reason to Hold On

"I don't like this," Sam growled for the twentieth time as he once again looked out the window of the hotel the four had been staying in. There was no logical reason to be checking the parking lot for Dean and Cas – the angel wouldn't fly them to the parking lot, he'd fly them into the room.

But it was already three in the morning, hours passed the agreed time to meet up, and no Dean or Cas. So where were they?

"Neither do I," agreed Terriel, standing in the center of the room with his usual look of intense concentration. "You've tried to reach your brother?"

"I've called every cell phone we have!" the hunter snapped. "Three times! I left him a message on all of them! He never takes this long to call back. He knows we have to check in regularly when we're split up. That was his rule to begin with, so where are they?! Terry, can you hear Cas on Angel Radio?"

With a sigh, Terriel closed his eyes, the crease between his brows deepening as he concentrated even harder. Sam watched him with a worried glare, waiting to hear some good news, waiting to hear that Cas and Terry were still in communication and all the cell signals had been knocked out or something…

…but the other angel just shook his head in obvious frustration.

"No," he replied with a frown. "I've been calling out to him since we left Oregon, but he hasn't answered. This isn't like Castiel."

"Terry, something's happened to them. We need to find them, now. I'm not losing them, Terry, I'm not!"

Sam was going out of his mind, pacing back to the far wall and then hurrying to the window again to check the parking lot. Just in case. There was nothing, and he ran his hands anxiously through his hair. The angel was watching him, still frowning.

"If they aren't answering, they've most likely been captured or killed," he pointed out, which was NOT HELPFUL.

"They haven't been killed!" shouted Sam, his heart quaking at the mere thought. "They can't be dead, you don't understand, I can't lose them, Terriel!"

"Sam-"

"NO! I can't do this without them! We need each other!" Sam had rarely been so frightened. Knowing Dean was in trouble was always bad enough, but this not knowing was even worse. He didn't know where Dean or Cas were, he didn't know what was happening to them, he didn't know how long he had before it was too late, and he had no idea where to start.

All he did know was that the first time he'd lost Dean for an extended period of time, stuck in the Trickster's time loop, he'd turned into a sociopathic killing machine.

The second time he'd lost Dean, he'd turned into a delusional blood-drinking junkie and ended up releasing Lucifer in the first place.

Dean was his brother, and Cas was as good as, and they kept each other human. Sam could not lose them now, not now! They were a family, they needed each other, and if he didn't get them back then Sam didn't know what he would do!

Terriel didn't say anything for a moment, as Sam ran his hands through his hair again. The hunter gave himself a shake and exhaled sharply. He needed to focus. He needed to do what he was best at, and think. Dean and Cas's lives might depend on it, because they WERE alive.

They had to be.

"Ok," he muttered out loud, voice a little stronger but still shaky. "Ok… Terry, where did you hear from them last?"

"Eastover, South Carolina," the angel replied instantly, pointing to a colored spot on the map of vessels that was spread out on the hotel wall. "Castiel told me they were going to check one more place after that if the twin brothers were safe. I never heard if they were."

"Ok. We need to go there and pick up the trail. Can you-"

They were flying before Sam had even finished the question. He stumbled slightly on the landing, from the sheer velocity of Terry's flight; the angel must have been as worried as Sam was himself. By the time the hunter had found his footing, the stench of blood and death hit his nostrils, and he blanched.

"Oh, God, is that…"

"Yes." Terriel's voice was hard, and Sam whipped around to see him… and the two bloody corpses that was sprawled on the living room floor, illuminated in the dark by pale moonlight through the window. The angel looked furious and saddened, shaking his head. "Martin Gibbs," he announced, standing over one of the bodies. "Barachiel's vessel. Another powerful one. This other human was possessed by a demon. I can still smell the sulfur."

"Does this Barachiel have any connection to Jareb?" Sam asked, squatting down next to the vessel's body. The throat had been slashed – definitely killed by a demon. The same demon who was dead on the floor beside him?

Terriel was silent, and then softly replied, "None that I know of." There was a sound of crackling electricity. Sam looked up to see the lamps on the table nearby flicker, then he saw Terriel's clenched fists.

He frowned. "Terry?"

"We're supposed to protect them," the angel hissed, eyes growing dark. "Not sell them out to demons. Why is he doing this?!"

"We'll ask him when we find him," Sam muttered. A better question at the moment was, had Dean and Cas been here before or after Martin and the demon were killed? The hunter straightened, hurrying to the wall to flip the light switch, flooding the room with light. His quick eyes took in the scene, and he gasped.

"What?" asked Terriel, turning as Sam raced back to the corpse of Martin Gibbs. "Sam?"

"Dean!"

Sam swore in frustration as he picked up the nickel-plated Colt .45 from the pool of Martin's blood, grimacing when it stuck slightly in the congealed mess. This was Dean's gun. There was no way, absolutely no way, that he would leave it like this.

"DAMN it!" Sam snarled, standing back up and looking around frantically for any other clues.

"Sam, this is good," Terriel pointed out, also looking around. "Whatever went wrong, it happened here, but look; Dean's body isn't here. I see no wing-marks, so Castiel is alive as well – or they were killed somewhere else. Whatever happened, they were both alive when they left here."

Figure this out, Sam, the hunter thought, closing his eyes and holding his hands up as he tried to visualize what might have happened. Terriel had fallen silent, apparently giving him a minute to think.

The gun had been laying in the pool of blood. Sticky. Old. Martin had been dead for a while, and the blood had been there before the gun. Dean had found Martin and must have gone over to check the body. The demon… had still been there? Had come back? Dean had been taken by surprise, because he hadn't used the gun; the magazine was full.

Not that normal bullets would do anything against a demon, but Dean carried that thing like a safety blanket, and he would have used it to slow the demons down while he called for Cas.

Called Cas…

Sam opened his eyes, this time squinting down at the demon. He rolled the body over, instantly noting the burned out eye-sockets. Death by angel.

"So either Cas killed him," Sam muttered, half to himself, "or maybe Jareb did. Was he dead or alive when Dean got here?"

"Martin Gibbs was killed seven hours ago," Terriel informed him after taking a deep inhale. "The possessed man has only been dead for five, and that's a little after Castiel contacted me last."

"So Cas is probably the one who- wait, you can tell that by… smelling?" Sam couldn't help but blink, turning back to the angel in surprise. Terriel returned the look, confused.

"Well… yes. Can't you?"

Sam stared at him for a second, then turned back to the scene, shaking his head. Wow. "So it was probably Cas who killed this one. But the whole point was to get one alive, so he must have had no choice."

"Then Dean was in danger," agreed Terriel. "I've seen Castiel when he's around you two. The bond is remarkable, truly remarkable. I believe you're right, Sam. I believe Castiel did smite this demon, but more must have come. The demons, and possibly Jareb himself, must have taken them."

"Yeah, but where!? And…" Sam trailed off, turning slowly back to Terriel as he finally saw what should have been blatantly obvious. His eyes narrowed, lips pursing slightly as he repeated, "Martin was killed… seven hours ago."

"Yes, or thereabouts. I suppose the odor of putrefaction may not be as clear to your senses yet, but you can smell the intestinal bacteria beginning to-"

"But the demon was killed five hours ago," Sam cut him off with a raised hand. He really didn't want to think about what Martin's intestinal bacteria might be doing or what that smelled like.

"Yes." Terriel paused, studying the hunter carefully. "Why, what are you thinking, Sam?"

He was thinking that this wasn't good, that's what he was thinking. Sam closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he groaned. "Damn it… Terry, this was a trap. Martin was already dead, so why was the demon hanging around two hours later? They were waiting for someone to come."

It also meant that Dean and Cas had been in the enemies' hands for five hours now, and Sam didn't want to think about that. Besides, it still didn't tell them where any of them were now. Terriel couldn't hear Cas, and the angel would have certainly been calling for help, which meant he was blocked – or killed elsewhere.

No, he didn't want to think about that either.

"But they wouldn't have known any of us would be coming to this vessel in particular." Terry's eyes lit up suddenly, and he straightened. "Which means, there were probably multiple traps set."

"So there might still be some demons sitting around for us to grab…" Sam saw where Terry was going with this, and a grim expression settled onto his face. "And they would know exactly where Dean and Cas would have been taken."

So they would just have to find one.

Dean felt like his body was on fire, like he was just one massive black and blue bruise. It hurt just to lie there, but it hurt even worse to move. Every time he took a breath in, it felt like his broken ribs were jamming right through his lungs - which was a very real risk. It took everything he had not to hiss in pain as Cas wrapped torn strips of his shirt around Dean's still bleeding wrists.

"I'm sorry..." Cas whispered again, voice catching as he kept clumsily winding the strips of cloth. Dean just shook his head, watching the angel work. They were still surrounded by the fiery ring of holy oil. On the other side were at least a half dozen demons ready to replenish the oil if it burned too low, occasionally hurling taunts or insults their way but mostly ignoring them.

"S'ok... 'm fine," Dean whispered back, which was a complete lie. Dean was far from fine, but he knew Cas. The angel wasn't talking except to say he was sorry, over and over, and he wasn't looking at Dean. He was falling to pieces, just like he had after Zachariah. Dean wanted nothing more than to convince him that it wasn't that bad in spite of how shaken he truly was, and he tried hard to stay calm.

It was just like taking care of Sammy as a kid - if he stayed calm, Sammy would stay calm, believing there was nothing to fear.

Unfortunately, Dean's lie was less believable when he was suddenly consumed in a violent attack of coughing. He retched, rolling over quickly as bright red blood spilled from his mouth. Great... he was probably bleeding internally. If he wasn't so exhausted, that would really worry him.

"Dean, I..." Cas broke off, his shaking hands knotting the makeshift bandage inexpertly. Dean realized dizzily that they really should have taught him some basics of human first aid; he'd never needed to learn such things as an angel.

Too late now.

"Cas, I'm-" But another spasm of coughing took over, and Dean couldn't stop the agonized gasp as he felt a sharp pain in his chest and froze. Shit. If he wasn't careful, this coughing and retching really was going to make him puncture a lung, and then he'd really be in trouble. Laying back on the ground, breathing heavily, Dean settled for gripping the arm of Cas's trench coat for a moment before letting his hand fall.

This was bad. Internal bleeding was serious, and if Dean died from his injuries before they could escape, what would happen to Sammy? And then, Sam was going to have his hands full trying to keep Cas off the ledge... and who would be taking care of Sam, if Cas couldn't keep him from that very same ledge? That thought terrified the hunter more than the idea of dying ever could; hell, it wasn't like he'd never died before.

So, he'd just have to hold on and be sure to not die, no matter what. He had to stay awake, because as long as he was awake, Dean could force himself to stay alive. If he closed his eyes, he might not ever open them again.

Right. Eyes open. Stay alive. He could do this.

For Sammy, for Cas, by God he could do this.

Cas went disturbingly quiet after that; from Dean's fetal position on the floor, he could see Cas sitting beside him, but he was so still and silent that he could have disappeared completely. The angel's head was bowed, eyes closed in defeat. Dean wanted to say something to him, but he was still trying to hold as still as possible, and what the hell was he going to say, anyway?

Nothing was going to comfort Cas, not right now. That had been one of the most terrifying moments of Dean's life, bent over a crate, so damn vulnerable, and Lucifer whispering such horrifying things in Cas's ear. But only part of that fear had been for himself; the other part had been for Cas, and what would happen when the angel eventually realized what he'd done. Dean couldn't have lived with the guilt, if the positions had been exchanged, and he doubted Cas could have either.

It was hard to focus on his surroundings with so much pain throbbing throughout his entire being. Only years upon years of extreme stubbornness and will power kept him conscious at all, fighting to stay awake and alive for his family. For over an hour - or was it five? Or maybe it was only a few minutes? - the two stayed just like that, silently fighting to emotionally and physically hold themselves together.

"So. Here you are."

Neither Dean nor Cas moved when Jareb stormed into the darkened basement and came to a stop outside of the burning holy oil. The other angel crossed his arms and glared at the two, though his focus seemed to be on Cas alone. The beaten human wasn't even spared a glance, as Dean watched him through half closed eyes.

"Castiel," Jareb sneered, shaking his head. "I still remember how highly spoken of you used to be. You used to be strong. You used to be a fighter, a warrior! Now look at you. You've been reduced to this?"

Dean wanted to tell Jareb to shut up and go away, but he didn't have the energy. He thought he felt Cas shift slightly behind him, and knew with enraged dismay that the angel was probably going to take all this to heart.

"You're a disgrace, Castiel," snapped Jareb, not waiting for an argument – not that Cas was likely to give one. "You know, even before I realized how wrong we all were about Lucifer, I still had to acknowledge that at least when he fell, it was in defense of angels! He was fighting for us, angels like you and me! But you? You sold yourself out to these things! For humans, Castiel! Where's your pride?! We're in the middle of a war, and you pick a side that isn't even a side! You turned your back on our brothers and sisters, and for what? Them?"

"Leave me alone," Cas whispered back, and Dean was horrified at the hollowness he heard in that broken voice. Lucifer had broken him, Dean could tell even as he himself faded slightly towards unconsciousness and then clawed his way back to alertness. He had to stay awake, for Cas's sake.

"You are alone! Look at yourself, really look! What do you have?! The fleeting regard of some lowly humans who ruined the Earth our Father made in the first place! Your grace is all but gone, and you've got the stink of demon filth all over you! I'm surprised you can even use those wings to fly, I'm astounded they'll even pass to the ethereal plane at all after you let those demons put their hands all over them!"

There was a moment of silence, and Dean thought Cas was going to ignore the other angel. He was enraged, or as enraged as his exhausted state would let him be. For one thing, mentioning Cas's wings at all was going to earn him a death warrant; insulting those wings, even more so.

But that wasn't even what hit Dean the hardest. Fleeting regard? That was how Jareb would describe it? He would take the bond the Winchesters shared with Castiel, the bond that had knitted them into an odd but fierce family, and call it "fleeting regard"? Dean would die for Cas, kill for Cas, and the angel had gone through hell - literally - to save him. Fleeting regard?

Moving hurt like a bitch, but Dean slowly rolled himself a full inch closer towards the angel, trying to reach out and grab his sleeve again. He needed Cas to know that Jareb was wrong. Cas knew that, right? He couldn't find Cas's arm, and the movement of rolling even that much made another wave of dizziness wash over him. Dean wondered vaguely how much blood he'd lost, seeping slowly out of his bruised innards.

"Why... why are you doing this?" Cas's voice was so full of pain and betrayal, and it broke Dean's heart. Jareb was not so moved.

"Because it's what's right! I will bring Heaven down! Because unlike you, I'm not afraid to seek vengeance, and unlike you, I'm strong enough to achieve it! Do you know what's happening in Heaven, Castiel?" demanded Jareb, ignoring Dean and his hateful glare. "They're torturing us, controlling us!"

"Jareb… please… Lucifer will betray you."

There was a rush of air, as though Jareb had just drawn his wings up, and Dean inadvertently cringed. But Jareb wasn't attacking, just getting on his rant.

"Lucifer is the only one who understands! What is wrong with you, Castiel?! Heaven has hurt you, too, I know they have! How can you just sit back and do nothing? You're a disgrace! You're not an angel, Castiel, you're nothing! You're a coward, if you refuse to fight for me! I had to survive pain and torture at their hands-"

"That's what this is about? That's it? We have all had to survive pain," Castiel cried out in anguish, and Dean could definitely feel him shaking now. "What gives you the right to kill innocent humans because of it?"

There was a beat of silence, and Dean tensed up, which only added another thousand jolts of pain to his already aching body. Jareb was going to attack, he just knew it… but the holy fire was a barrier, of course, and the angel couldn't get in any more than they could get out. Good thing, too... because Dean was going to make Jareb pay for his words. Cas was many things, but he was no coward. He was no disgrace. Dean couldn't even sit up at this point, but God help Jareb if he got close enough, for saying that!

Fury rose through Dean's foggy mind, mixed with terrible fear - not fear of Jareb, not anymore. Fear that Cas would believe the cruel words, which were completely untrue. Fear that he would listen to Jareb, instead of the Winchesters, and think he actually was a disgrace, or a coward. Even worse, think that they thought so, too.

And yet... there was a glimmer of hope. One single solitary ray of hope: even now - even now - Cas just couldn't seem to help but stand up for humanity. He was broken, so broken, but he wasn't completely gone. He was still in there somewhere, Dean just had to stay alive long enough to pull him back.

"Lucifer has offered you the chance to have everything you want," Jareb finally replied, his voice full of ice and fury. "And you've thrown it back in his face. You disgust me, you're worse than the other angels. They're just too blind to see what's happening, but you're worse because you do see it, you're just too afraid to do what has to be done. You're too weak! If you aren't with me, Castiel, then you're against me."

"You're blind, Jareb," Cas whispered. Dean was starting to lose focus on the conversation, the pain starting to shroud his mind in an oncoming veil of unconsciousness. "You speak of Heaven controlling you, but Lucifer is controlling you, too. You've done nothing but trade one master for another."

There was a harsh laugh. "Never fear, brother… I'm a free angel. Lucifer will help me have my revenge, and that's where it ends."

There was another rustle of movement: Jareb turning on his heel, storming away. Dean could see his retreating form through the flickering light, before his eyes fell closed. He heard Cas's broken voice, murmuring to an angel who wouldn't hear.

"No… that's where it begins."

Very true, Dean thought distantly, as the edges of his mind turned grey and began to disappear. The blackness was pulling him in, soothing and restful at last... he began to surrender, lulled by the sweet nothingness.

"DEAN! Dean, PLEASE, please open your eyes! Dean, no... wake up, you HAVE to wake up!"

The hysterical plea ripped through the darkness, and Dean forced his eyes open against the exhaustion and desire to sink into that long, long rest. Right. He was staying awake, he remembered now. Cas was the one calling him, leaning over him with true terror in his eyes. Dean didn't know how long his eyes had even been closed for, but Cas was gripping him like he was clinging to a lifeline, and Dean gave him a weak smile.

Right. He had to stay alive. For his brothers. For a second, their eyes connected at last, and Dean nodded. For you, Cas, he thought dizzily, seeing the self-hatred and hollow blankness in the angel's gaze. He wanted nothing more than to kick the angel's ass for even thinking Dean was going to leave him alone here for something as trivial as death. For you and Sammy... I'm here...