Thank you so much Jenjoremy for beta'ing and Gredelina1 for supporting and encouraging. Thank you all for reading and reviewing.
Chapter Ten
As they walked to the kitchen, Castiel watched Jack in his side vison. He wasn't saying much, but he was smiling widely. Castiel thought that he was proud of his part in what was happening now. At last, he had found something to be truly proud of. Sam was healing because of him, and Mary and Dean were happier, too. That was something Jack could take pleasure in.
He was proud of him, too. Had it not been for him, Sam would be dead without chance of return, as Castiel was powerless to heal injuries from an archangel's blade on his own. Jack had done something incredible, sharing his power so effectively. The instinct for an angel was to hold power, not to share it with another. It was Jack's human side that enabled him to do it, as he had a human's compassion and fight.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
Jack shrugged. "Tired. But I feel good, too. Like I really helped."
"You did. Without you, Sam would be dead. YOU must be exhausted though. That last time you gave me so much. You need to eat and then rest."
"What if Sam needs us?"
"Then I will wake you. But I don't think he will. He is stronger now. The best way you can help is by being as strong as you can be for next time we can heal him."
"Dean spoke to me," he said quietly. "He thanked me. I think he likes me now."
Castiel smiled. He had thought something had passed between them as Jack had come back looking so much happier before, and he hoped Jack had interpreted the situation correctly. If anyone had a right to Dean's affection it was Jack. He had saved Sam and that was everything to Dean. He was also a good person. Perhaps now that Dean wasn't so blinkered by what had happened before, he would build something with him. That would mean everything to Jack, and it would be good for Dean, too.
They reached the kitchen and Castiel walked in ahead of Jack. "Would you like a sandwich, too, or something more substantial?" When there was no response he turned back and saw Jack standing frozen in the doorway. "Jack?"
"Sam!" he gasped.
Castiel brushed past him and set off at a run at the same moment Mary's screams reached him. "Castiel!"
He raced through the halls into the bedrooms and skidded at Sam's door, holding the frame, and rushed inside.
Mary was standing back from the bed, her hands on her face and Castiel's name ripping from her. Dean was with Sam, leaning over him and putting his hands on his chest only to pull them back again with a look of horror. "No, Sam! You can't do this to me! Not again!"
Sam's chest was not moving and his heart was still in his chest. The water-like flow of Sam reaching was absent. There wasn't even a sense of him in the room. He was gone.
Castiel pushed Dean to the side and Dean seemed not to notice. He became aware that Castiel was there only when, reaching for Sam, he touched Castiel's back. "Cas! Help him! I couldn't. His chest."
"I will," Castiel said. Forgetting his limitations, needing only to bring his friend back, Castiel reached for Sam and laid a hand over his forehead and sent his grace into him. It didn't work. He had so little to give and Sam was gone completely. It was more than that even. It was like he was blocking him, too. Castiel just wasn't strong enough. "Jack!" he shouted.
"I'm here," Jack said, appearing at his side. "What can I do? Tell me what to do?" There was desperation in his voice.
Castiel looked at him. He was almost white and his eyes red and wet. He was obviously exhausted. He probably had nothing left to give. But Sam was gone. He had nothing left. They had to try as Castiel couldn't leave him like this another minute as Jack regained his strength, let alone hours.
"Give me what you have," he said. "Dig deep and give me everything you can. It's the only chance we have for him now. We have to save him." There was desperation and panic in his voice. This was Sam. His friend, his family, and he needed him back.
Jack put his hand on his shoulder and he felt the power flooding him. It was the same as when he had taken in the Purgatory souls. It gave him a heady rush of power. It made him strong. How did Jack remain so humble when he had this in him?
He placed his hand on Sam's forehead again, and let Jack's power flow into him and utilized it for his own healing ability. Light poured from his palm into Sam, and he reached for him as he usually reached for him. He found Sam, but it was not easy to pull him back into his body. If there was a real world approximation of what was happening, it was that Sam was kicking and punching to be free.
"No, Sam," he growled. "You will do this. Do you understand me?"
The fight against him weakened and Castiel used the advantage to drag Sam back and into his body. There was a thud behind him as Jack's hand fell from his shoulder, and Sam's white lips parted as he coughed.
Castiel was pushed aside as Mary and Dean crowded Sam's bed, touching and reassuring him and themselves. They were whispering Sam's name with obvious heady relief. Mary was crying but Dean seemed beyond tears.
Castiel moved back and looked for Jack. He was lying on the floor, holding himself up on his elbows. He was almost as pale as Sam, and his eyes were wide and reddened. He was wrecked. Castiel reached for him and helped him to his feet. Jack swayed and then seemed to get his feet under him again.
"Can you walk?" he asked.
Jack nodded. "I'll be fine."
"I'm going to take Jack to his room, and then I will come back," he said. "Watch him. Sam, be strong."
Mary nodded vaguely, her attention still on her son, but Dean didn't even seem to hear him. Castiel placed his hand on Jack's elbow and guided him out of the room on unsteady legs and to his bedroom.
He helped Jack onto the bed and encouraged him to sit back against the headboard. Jack leaned back, but he didn't seem to relax.
"Would you like something to eat now or would you prefer to rest first?" he asked.
"I should eat," Jack said. "I think I burned everything I had. My stomach hurts."
"I'll get you something." Castiel made to leave but Jack caught his hand.
"Can we talk, Castiel?" he asked.
"Of course."
Jack moved over and Castiel sat on the edge of the bed.
It seemed to take Jack a long time to get his thoughts together to ask his question. "What just happened, Castiel?"
Castiel sighed. "Sam's heart failed. I had thought it was a risk with the damage he sustained. We had healed as much of it as we could, but that combined with the damage to the rest of his body was too much."
"Yes, but what happened after. Why was it so hard?"
Castiel had hoped he would not have noticed what he felt trying to bring Sam back. He should have known it was a false hope. He had the same amount of luck as the Winchesters. He didn't want to explain it to Jack though, so he hedged. "I think it was because we were both so tired already. We had so little to give to him that it was harder than before."
Jack tilted his head to the side. "Are you lying to me?"
Castiel frowned. "What makes you think that?"
"Your energy changed and your voice was different."
"You are very perceptive." Castiel was disappointed that he had been uncovered, but impressed by Jack. He had managed to lie to Sam and Dean for months when he had been working with Crowley, but they hadn't realized for a long time, and they were professional liars. Jack was so new to life and yet he saw it.
"Why are you lying?"
"I don't want to upset you," he said. "It is perhaps better than you not know."
"Perhaps, but I feel like I need to know. I was very scared when it happened, and I don't want to let it happen again."
That was fair, Castiel thought. He didn't want Jack to be scared, and he thought the truth would scare him, but he did need to know. He certainly had the right to.
"Sam fought us," he said. "That is why it was so hard."
"He was dead though. How could he fight?"
"Because it was Sam's soul we were fighting with. A soul is the purest energy, and that makes it incredibly powerful. The soul did not want to be returned, so we had to overpower it. I could never have done it alone."
"Sam didn't want to come back?" Jack asked quietly. "Why not? Why wouldn't he want to be with Dean again?"
"I don't know. I am not lying now. I believe something has happened to him. Perhaps he believed he is still in the Cage with Michael. I understand him not wanting to come back if it was to more pain, and even awareness as he felt it now would be incredibly painful with his injuries. We won't know for sure until Sam wakes." He spoke firmly. "Jack, you cannot tell Dean and Mary about this."
"They can't know he didn't want to come back," Jack said thoughtfully. "Because it would hurt them like it hurt us?"
"Exactly."
"But what if it happens again? I don't have anything left now. I won't be able to help."
Castiel had considered the same thing. He was scared Sam would fail and they would be forced to wait until he and Jack had replenished their energy to help him. The hours that would pass would be agonizing to them all.
"We have to hope it doesn't happen and you must rest as much as you can now so you will be ready sooner. Sam must fight alone for a while."
"Do you think he will?"
"I don't know," Castiel said honestly.
"He's not reaching more. I felt it cut off earlier, before the screams, and it hasn't come back. Do you think he is scared again?"
Castiel considered. He would have liked to lie and say that was what it was, but Jack would know. "I think Sam might not be reaching because he feels defeated now and doesn't want to be here," he admitted. "We need him to wake and see that he is home and who is here for him to make him work to stay."
"Okay," Jack said carefully. "I'll rest and I won't tell them anything."
"Good," Castiel said. "I will get you something to eat so you can, and then I will go back to Sam. Come when you're sure you are ready, not before. You need to be at your fullest strength just in case."
"In case we he gives up again?"
Castiel swallowed down the ball of misery in him. "Yes. In case of that."
Castiel stayed with Jack while he ate, leaving only when he placed his plate on the bedside table and lay down to sleep. He slipped from the room and eased the door closed behind him.
Dean's room was in the first hall and Sam's the second, only a few doors down from Jack. He wondered if Jack's position had been chosen, close to Sam but distanced from Dean, intentionally. He guessed it was, as Dean would surely not have wanted Jack close then, but Sam would have wanted to be within reach if he was needed. That was an aspect of Sam's nature that he appreciated; he was caring and open. Castiel just wished he was so open now when they needed him to be more than ever before.
He knocked on the open door before entering. Sam was the same, pale as a sheet and unmoving, but Mary and Dean seemed calmer now. Mary was sitting on the bed beside Sam, her legs under her and her hand brushing Sam's hair back. Dean was in the hard chair beside the bed, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees. Mary looked up at him as he entered, but Dean's eyes remained fixed on his brother.
"How is he?" Castiel asked.
"Can't you tell?" Dean asked tonelessly.
Castiel assessed his friend. His pulse was fast and not as strong as Castiel had hoped. His breathing was shallow as, even in unconsciousness, his body tried to relieve the pain of his injured chest. His color wasn't good, and there was an infection building in the wound on his right shoulder. There was nothing Castiel could do for that yet, but he would make sure to take care of it with his next application of grace.
"He's stable," he said.
"He seems warmer," Mary said, tracing her son's cheek with the back of her hand. "He was so cold before."
Castiel chose not to tell her that the warmth was the lingering grace in him. If she had found something to comfort her and give hope, he would not take it away. They needed all the comfort that they could find.
"We thought that before," Dean said disapprovingly. "Look what happened then."
"Feel him. He is warmer," Mary said.
"He's not awake though," Dean said. "I can't work out if that's a good thing or not anymore."
Castiel frowned and Mary explained. "He was awake, Cas. Only for a few seconds. He spoke even."
"That's good," Castiel said. "He is fighting to come back." At least he had been.
Dean sat up and looked at him. "Yeah, it's awesome. He spoke. He said enough to tell us we weren't real and then he died again. I'm pretty sure that means he's not fighting that hard."
Castiel's heart sank. He didn't believe they were real. It was not that unexpected really, as when he had gone into the Cage, he had believed Dean and Mary to be in the apocalypse world. He had only known Jack was alive still, and he hadn't been there. After what Michael had done, it was not a shock that he would draw that conclusion.
"He looked right at me, Cas, and said I wasn't real. It was just like before."
Castiel remembered the absolute horror of the moment he had found Sam hooked up to the ECT machine, the absolute defeat in his eyes and his exhaustion when he'd said Castiel was not real, just another tortuous byproduct of his ruined mind. Sam had been dying in front of him, and he had been almost completely crippled by the guilt of knowing it was all his fault.
Of course Sam had fought against coming back. He had thought he had lost his mind again. For a man like Sam, with a mind like his, that was one of the worst things that could happen to him, possibly only eclipsed by the loss of his family. He would sooner give up his life than suffer that again.
"We will have to convince him otherwise," he said. "When he wakes, we can talk to him and explain. Dean, you will be able to reach him. You have before."
Dean shrugged. "Once."
"Once is more than either your mother or I have achieved. We must be gentle though. Not force the truth on him."
"Why not?" Mary asked.
Castiel couldn't tell them the truth—that Sam had died and fought not to come back to this world and they could not risk it again, so he lied. "Because he has been through so much we should not stress him more than necessary. We must be gentle."
Mary nodded, appeased, and turned her attention to Sam again, soothing him. Dean looked a little suspicious though, and Castiel was nervous, but the draw to his brother mattered more to him in that moment, and he didn't question.
"I will get you something to eat," he said.
"Thanks, Cas," Mary said distractedly.
Castiel forced a smile as he turned to leave. They did need food, and it was something useful he could do for them, but it was born of selfishness, too. Knowing what he did about Sam, remembering, he needed a little space, too.
So… He's back again. He fought not to be, but he is there again. That counts as a success, right?
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx