Gibbs was at his side in a heart beat, helping to lay Tony on the floor on his back. He pressed a hand over the bleeding wound, then looked up at Dean. "Get Castiel. Get him here, now!"

"Cas!" Dean called, looking up for a moment. "Cas, we need you now!" he said, then looked back down at his friend, laying a hand on the top of Tony's head, trying not to completely freak out. Tony's eyes looked pleadingly at his, then to Gibbs', and back. "Cas'll be here," with a shaky voice, Dean tried to assure him. "It'll be okay. Everything will be okay."

"I...know," Tony managed to squeak out, then he looked to Gibbs, who for all intents and purposes, seemed to be focusing hard on stopping the blood flow that was coming freely from Tony's chest. The look of concern and fear, which the older man usually did a damn good job of not showing, was as evident on his face as anything. Though pain blossomed greater in his chest and it was getting harder and harder to breathe, Tony wanted nothing more than to comfort his friends.

He reached his hand up until he found the sleeve on Gibbs' arm and held onto it, forcing Gibbs to meet his eyes. "I'm...I'm gon'...gonna be...okay, b-boss," he told him.

Gibbs swallowed against the nerves, nodding, "Yeah. Yeah you are, DiNozzo," he replied, gripping onto Tony's hand with his free one. "You're gonna be fine," he willed himself to believe it, then glanced up at Dean.

Dean stood and began pacing, "Cas, we need you here! Come on!" Why the angel wasn't there yet, he couldn't imagine. But he was starting to slightly freak the hell out.

"D-don't be m-mad at S-Sam," Tony squeezed Gibbs' hand, riding a wave of pain, so he could continue. "Woul-wouldn't have done it...He wouldn't...It w-wasn't h-him," he coughed, and blood poured from his mouth.

"Don't talk, Tony," Gibbs told him. "Just hang on."

"N-not sure I...can," Tony's breaths were quick and shallow; blood still making its way down his cheek.

Gibbs looked desperately at the hunter that continued to pace and call out for Castiel. He tried not to think about the feeling of warm blood oozing from between his fingers where they lay tight against the wound on Tony's chest. He looked to the still figure that lay strapped to the cot, and thought about what Tony had asked of him; not to be angry with the man. He knew that wasn't Sam. Not really. And he hadn't been going for Tony. Tony had stepped between them. That knife was meant for Gibbs...and Tony had saved him.

He looked back down at his agent, realizing that he was now still under his hands. Tony's eyes were closed. There was no rise and fall of his chest; no heart beat felt where his hand pressed against his chest. Gibbs felt the stinging in his eyes as he slowly pulled his hand away from the wound, looking at the lifeless face of his friend.

The memory rushed back to him of a few year prior when he'd watched Tony die in his arms. The feeling was just as strong now, even though there was hope for this to be reversed. But there was still the nagging questions at the back of his mind: would Castiel come back? Would he save him? What if Castiel didn't come back? What if he couldn't?

Dean stopped pacing when he looked over and saw the devastation on Gibbs' face. Tony was no longer struggling. And though that should've been a good thing, for the time being Dean felt his heart tear. Tony and Gibbs had been a rock for him this past year. Tony...Tony had been like a brother to him. Dean honestly didn't know if he'd have made it this far without him...

He watched as Gibbs carefully lifted the upper-half of the agent's body from the floor and held him to his chest, with a lost look on his face. Suddenly he hated himself; hated that he was putting them through this again. He shouldn't have come here; shouldn't have put their lives in danger...

"Godamnit, Cas, come on!" he shouted toward the ceiling.

"I was unable to return until now," Castiel's voice sounded across the room. "Crowley was suspicious of the sudden disappearance of one of our major assets."

"Why didn't you tell me Sam was dangerous?" Dean asked angrily. "You should've zapped him to sleep or something! Look what he's done!" he motioned to Tony.

"I..." Castiel's brows knitted together, "I apologize. I was unaware that he would attempt something like this."

"He said he'd found a loophole to keep from getting his soul returned to his body," Dean replied. "He tried to kill Gibbs, but Tony stood in the way."

"Then he was not successful," the angel told him as he made his way to the agents; Gibbs laying Tony back down with a bit of relief that Castiel had finally showed up. He placed a hand on Tony's head, and like every other time, suddenly everything was right again. Tony sat up, feeling slightly strange and disconnected at the events of the last several minutes.

Castiel turned to Sam's prone body. "What happened to him?" he asked Dean.

"I beat the crap out of him. That's what," Dean replied. Castiel reached down and healed Sam as well, and the younger hunter began to wake up.

"Well," Death's voice sounded by the stairs, and all eyes were suddenly on him. "It's good to see I'll be returning Sam's soul to a healthy physique." He made his way toward the cot while the rest of the men in the room moved away cautiously. Castiel moved with them, giving Death enough room to do what he needed.

Sam was fully awake now, looking wide-eyed at the figure that sank down beside him on the cot. "No," he protested, then looked to Dean with pleading eyes. "Dean, you know what this could do," he told him. "It could mean the end of me! I could be a vegetable! I may never wake up!"

Death looked over at Dean who was fighting an internal battle, knowing this wasn't truly Sam speaking, but it was so hard to determine the difference when he looked and sounded essentially the same. He glanced at Death, meeting his eyes, "Do it."

"No! No, please!" Sam begged, pulling uselessly against the restraints.

"Now, Sam," Death said as he opened the case he set on the cot, "I'm going to set up a barrier inside your mind."

"No...don't touch me..."

"It might feel a little...itchy. Do me a favor," he said as Sam glanced to Dean, then back to Death, "Don't scratch the wall." Sam's wide eyes and panicked breath made Dean start to feel a bit afraid. "Because trust me," Death continued, "You're not going to like what happens."

Sam looked back to Dean, "Please...don't do this..." Dean remained silent, watching as Death picked up the brilliant ball of light from the bag. Sam looked at it in terror, then back to Dean. "No...you don't know what'll happen to me. Dean, please!" Death moved the light toward Sam as the hunter continued to try and argue a way out of it.

Death pushed the soul into Sam, and Sam screamed and arched up off of the cot at the pain the transplant entailed. Dean watched, slightly horrified and instinctively saddened to watch and hear his little brother in such pain...

*~.~*

The three men waited upstairs as Castiel checked Sam who was unconscious in the basement. Death had left after placing Sam's soul back into his body and setting up the barrier. Now, Dean paced the floor in front of the basement door.

Castiel came up moments later. Dean stopped and turned to him. "Well?"

"His soul is in place."

"Is he ever gonna wake up?"

"I'm not a human doctor, Dean."

"Would ya take a guess?" he asked frustratedly.

"Okay. Probably not."

"Well, don't sugar-coat it," he looked at the door.

"I'm sorry. Perhaps returning his soul wasn't the best course of action..."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Dean asked incredulously. "You said it needed to be done! That it was a mistake to have brought him back without it!"

"When I felt his soul," the angel told him, "It felt...as if it had been skinned alive. Perhaps killing him would've been a better solution."

"Hey, screw you!" Dean shouted. "That's never the solution!" Castiel looked at him with saddened, regretful eyes, before quickly leaving. Dean stood there, forcing down the bile that rose in his throat...

TBC...