Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. I do not own any of the characters, barring any OCs, in this story.

"Yeah, thanks Bobby. We'll see you in about twelve hours," Sam said, hanging up the phone and handing it to Castiel to store in the glove box. He sighed tiredly, looking back at his brother in the rearview mirror for about the twentieth time since leaving the tiny town of Ada.

It hadn't taken long after deciding to head back to the motel for Sam to repack the bags, clean the room a little, and get the three of them back on the road. He had brought Dean inside to relax on the bed while he and Cas were gathering up all the weapons and toiletries, too shaken by what had just happened minutes ago to willingly leave him in the car on his own. Dean protested at first, but when it became apparent that both Sam and Castiel planned on mother-henning him, he gave up, knowing he stood no chance against two sets of puppy-dog eyes.

Now the older hunter was stretched out in the backseat once again, covered with a thin blanket and settled comfortably on top of two fluffy bedspreads and pillow that Sam had swiped from the room. He was still in a great deal of pain; even after Castiel's minor patch-up job, he still had a lot of vivid bruising around his neck, as well as an incredible amount of soreness in his chest thanks to enduring Sam-strength CPR. But the two cloth-wrapped ice packs he held against his neck were at least helping keep the throbbing to a minimum, and the painkillers his brother had pushed on him were gradually starting to take effect.

By the time they turned onto the highway that would take them out of Ada and back toward Sioux Falls, he was already starting to fall asleep.

"You okay, Dean?" Sam asked some ten minutes later when they hit a small pothole, making Dean grunt softly as his already abused body protested the slight movement. "You need another blanket or anything?"

"'m fine, S'mmy," Dean muttered, not even bothering to open his eyes. "'m sore, not dyin'."

Sam winced. "That isn't funny."

"Yeah, well, now y' know h'w I feel every time a mons'er tries t' wring your giraffe neck." His words were starting to slur with exhaustion and Sam shook his head, smiling when he looked back and Saw the way Dean was curled up under the blanket, cuddling with the pillow like it was the best friend he'd ever had.

"Alright, alright, true. Just go to sleep, jerk."

"Bisshh…"

He was sound asleep and snoring not thirty seconds later. Neither Sam nor Castiel said anything else for the next half hour or so, instead just listening to the sounds of Metallica and Black Sabbath playing through the Impala's speakers. It was awkward, Sam thought, sitting beside Cas in the front of the Impala instead of his brother. The angel wasn't terrible company, of course, but he was more Dean's friend than Sam's; that, and he really didn't seem interested in speaking when he could stare, unblinking, out at the scenery for twelve hours at a time.

Surprisingly though, it was Castiel who broke the silence a few minutes later.

"Are you alright, Sam?" he asked quietly, still looking out the window despite obviously paying attention to the younger Winchester.

"Huh? Uh, yeah, I'm fine," Sam answered distractedly, not sure exactly what Cas was asking. "I didn't really get tossed around like you and Dean did, so –"

"That isn't what I mean." The angel had turned around now, his blue eyes intense and focused as he stared fixedly at Sam. "You're still finding ways to blame yourself for all of this, aren't you? To make everything that's happened even before today your fault?"

Sam said nothing for a while, fingers clenching around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, and then sighed. There was no way he could lie to Castiel; he might as well indulge him.

"You know what? Yeah, I am. Because in case you hadn't noticed, I'm the one that let Lucifer out; I'm the one who unleashed the Four Horsemen on this planet and then managed to fall off the demon-blood rehab wagon the second Famine came around; I'm the one the demons are all trying to recruit for the Devil; and I'm the reason a demon attacked my brother and he almost died right in front of me today. So yeah, I'm finding it hard to make any of this anyone else's fault but mine."

"Sam…" Castiel sighed, staring out the front window as he thought of how best to phrase what he was thinking. "You have made mistakes in your life, and you've done things that before, as a blind supporter of everything my brothers said, I would have considered unforgiveable. But you aren't the only one at fault, not for any of it.

"You thought you were doing the right thing, just like Dean did, and I did, and my brothers and sisters did. But if you'll remember, I was the one who failed to save your brother from Hell in time, and I was the one who did what I thought was best by letting you out of the panic room. None of us knew what the right thing was until it was too late; some of us still don't." His eyes drifted skyward, obviously thinking of the other angels, who had all played the three of them so badly in the last year.

"That still doesn't make anything I did okay."

"No, it doesn't. But you were a victim here as much as anyone else, and I need you to understand that. You need to learn to forgive yourself for the things that you had no control over, or the fact that Dean and Bobby and I are all trying to help you to stand against Lucifer will be pointless. We can't protect you from yourself, Sam; you have to let us in, and let us assist you."

Sam turned briefly to stare at the angel, eyes wide in disbelief at what he was hearing. Was Castiel, the socially awkward demon-smiting Angel of the Lord who had originally threatened to eliminate him simply for being allied with Ruby, honestly trying to comfort him right now?

"I have faith that you're a good man," Cas continued, as if he had read the younger hunter's mind. "If perhaps a bit misguided. Just remember that you aren't alone in this fight; you have Dean and Bobby, and even me, and we will be there to help whenever you need it. You can do this, Sam. I have faith in you."

The young hunter smiled, then, the first genuine smile he'd given in a long time, and nodded to the angel.

"Thanks, Cas. That's… it means a lot."

"You're welcome, Sam. Now, as Dean and Bobby like to say, I think we should 'end this chick-flick moment before we both start growing lady parts.'"

Sam laughed at the way Castiel quoted the two older hunters, as if parroting words in some foreign language he'd never spoken before. He could practically see the quotation marks falling out of the angel's mouth.

"You got it."

He pressed down a little harder on the accelerator, leaving Valerie Sanders and Ada and Alse Young even farther behind them as the Impala flew down the highway toward the only real home the Winchesters had ever known. His talk with Cas hadn't solved everything, not by a long shot, but he was feeling happier right now than he had in a long time – maybe since before he had freed Lucifer from the Cage. And with that new happiness came a fresh sense of determination. He was going to stop Lucifer and the Apocalypse; his family and friends were counting on him.

"I'm going to put that son of a bitch back in Hell where he belongs," Sam thought, gripping the steering wheel so hard his that hands started to shake. "Or if nothing else, I'll go down trying."

A/N: Alright, everyone. That's all I've got for this story. Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, and left reviews for this fic. It really means a lot that people have stayed interested in it for almost a full year. I hope you enjoyed this last little bit, and I ask that you please leave a review if you can find the time.

Thanks again, everyone. Zana Zira, out!