A/N: See first chapter for the disclaimer. Title and lyrics come from "Father's Son" by 3 Doors Down, and I don't own that, either. Kudos to poestheblackcat who picked up on the CSI:Miami reference in the last chapter. :D I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please review. :D


Father's Son

Dean wakes up, looking around the hotel room from his position on the couch. Castiel is sleeping peacefully on one of the beds. Sam, however, is nowhere to be found. Dean notices that his keys are still on the table near him, so wherever Sam went, it is within walking distance.

However, something tells Dean that he shouldn't be worried about his brother. He gets up anyway, walking over to the table between the two beds and finding a note.

Dean-

Went out for a walk. Will bring back breakfast. I'm fine.

-Sam

Dean reads the note a second time before lying back down on the couch. If Sam says he's alright, then Dean has no choice but do believe him. Sleep isn't exactly coming easily for any of them right now, Castiel included, so it makes sense to Dean that Sam would choose to go for a walk.

"Baseball," Castiel says, rolling over in his sleep. "Hot dogs. Apple pie."

"Do you even know what any of that is?" Dean asks, not expecting an answer.

"Ball… bat…"

"Yeah, maybe your dreams fill in the gaps, but you have no clue what you're saying."

"Pizza."

"Pizza's good."

"I wish I were an Oscar Mayer wiener…" Castiel sings lightly.

Dean snorts back laughter. "You are so not living that down when you wake up."

Castiel curls up into a ball, resettling in his sleep and falling silent again.

"Man, I wonder what goes through your head when you sleep," Dean says softly, looking at Castiel.

Castiel snores in response.

*~*~*~*

Sam kneels in the pew, his hands folded in front of him. His head is bowed, deep in thought as another man walks in, startling Sam.

"Oh, I'm sorry, son," the priest says. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, Father," Sam replies.

The priest walks over to stand near Sam's pew. "Something I can do for you?"

Sam furrows his brow. "How do you get redemption?"

The priest tilts his head. "There are many ways."

"Praying doesn't seem enough. Nothing really seems enough."

"God is all forgiving, son."

Sam scoffs lightly. "I don't know if I deserve redemption."

"Everyone is deserving of redemption."

"Not with what… the sins I've committed."

The priest sits down next to Sam. "All sins, no matter how great, can be forgiven."

"Even in the case of murder?"

The priest arches his eyebrows and stiffens slightly.

"I'm not a murderer," Sam says immediately. "I'm not. It's just… something I've always wondered."

The priest nods. "Those who feel true remorse, who truly would never do it again if given the choice, they get redemption. Those who truly repent."

Sam exhales slowly.

"You carry a lot of weight with you," the priest says.

"I did something very bad, Father," Sam replies.

"Would you like to confess your sins? He's listening."

Sam shakes his head. "I appreciate that, Father. I've been praying to Him for a while. I hope He will forgive me and help me."

"He will, son. God loves all His children."

Sam nods, watching as the priest stands. He pats Sam on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Sam back to his prayers.

*~*~*~*

Sam walks back into the motel room a few hours later, finding Dean dozing on the couch and Castiel still sleeping. He places the cups of coffee and the breakfast on the table before taking a sip from one of the cups.

Dean wakes up as soon as he smells breakfast. "Sammy?" he says.

"Yeah, Dean," Sam replies, opening up one of the breakfast containers.

Dean gets up, walking over to the table. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

Dean looks at Sam through the light filtering through the windows, finding a lighter resolve in him. "Where were you?"

Sam shrugs, evading the question with a look over to Castiel. "Should we wake him up?" he asks, gesturing at the sleeping man.

"Mmm… Kelly Clarkson," Castiel mutters sleepily.

Dean grins. "Let him finish that dream," he tells his younger brother.

Sam shrugs with a smirk, turning around and handing Dean breakfast.

"No, they are real," Castiel mumbles.

Sam and Dean look at each other, then at Castiel.

"COLD!" Castiel screams, jumping. A second later, he settles back down.

"Are you sure we shouldn't wake him up?" Sam asks, slightly concerned.

A concern Dean doesn't share as he grins. "Nah," he says, taking a big bite from his breakfast.

Sam shrugs, shaking his head and eating his own breakfast.

"No," Castiel whines softly, causing both of the Winchesters to stop eating and look at him. "No, no, no, no, no."

"Cas?" Sam asks, getting up. Dean follows suit.

"No. No, please, no."

"Cas," Dean says, sitting beside the angel. Dean puts his hand on Castiel's shoulder, and the other man quickly moves away.

"No, no, no," Castiel repeats, pleading in his sleep.

Sam and Dean share a 'what the hell' look.

"Cas, wake up," Sam says, kneeling on the other side of Castiel's bed.

"No," Castiel whimpers, pulling his knees into his chest.

"Castiel, wake up."

"Please…"

"Cas," Dean says, his voice full of concern.

"Dean?" the angel sleepily whimpers, still in the depths of the nightmare.

"Yeah, Cas. It's me."

"What are you doing here? You need to go back."

"It's just a dream, Cas." Dean leans forward, putting his hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Wake up."

"No," the angel whines.

"It's okay," Dean gently reassures. "I promise. Just open your eyes, and it'll all be gone."

Castiel opens his eyes, waking up fully. Sam stays behind Castiel as the angel sits up and pulls his knees into his chest.

Dean keeps his hand on Castiel's shoulder, just watching the angel. After giving Castiel a moment to compose himself, Dean asks, "You okay?"

Castiel simply nods.

"What the hell was that?"

"Bad dream," Castiel simply rasps, pulling his knees closer to his chest.

"Yeah, I got that. What was it about?"

Castiel says nothing, looking down.

"You can tell us," Sam says gently. "It's okay."

Castiel shakes his head, giving the boys the inclination that Castiel hasn't only absorbed their eating habits, but also their stubbornness.

"You sure you're okay?" Dean asks.

Castiel nods, finally settling back against the pillows and relaxing.

Dean moves his hand off Castiel's shoulder. "Breakfast is on the table if you want it."

Castiel nods again, moving toward the end of his bed and getting up. The Winchesters share a look before Dean shrugs and stands up, following Castiel to the table. Sam slowly follows as well, watching Castiel.

Castiel sits in one of the chairs that doesn't have food in front of it, taking the final take out container and a set of plastic utensils. He silently picks at the food in the container under the ever-watchful eyes of the Winchesters.

"Angels do not give humans enough credit," Castiel says quietly, pushing a bite of eggs aside.

"Yeah, we know," Dean says casually, smiling lightly.

Castiel doesn't acknowledge the joke, taking the final cup of coffee and taking a sip from it. "Remember how you asked me if I would become an angel again if I had the chance?" Castiel asks, looking at Dean.

"Yeah."

"I would, only to escape the nightmares."

Dean looks confused while Sam looks sad. "You'd rather feel nothing?" Dean asks. "Feel empty? No emotions? No free will?"

Castiel looks up at Dean, who is somewhere between confusion and annoyance.

"You'd rather go back to having a holy stick up your ass than have emotions? You'd give up food?"

Castiel watches silently.

"Look, nightmares suck, but even if they're flashbacks or memories, they can't hurt you anymore. Getting beat up sucks, but it also can teach you a lesson, even if it's how to dodge or what you're doing wrong in a fight. Being a spineless, soulless son of a bitch, though… is it worth losing human relationships? Emotions? Loyalty? Support? Love?"

"Is being human really all that great?" Castiel shoots back angrily. "You can die!"

"Angels can die too," Dean counters patiently. "Unless you already forgot about your brothers and sisters you've lost in this fight."

"You know I have not," Castiel remarks darkly.

"So, what's so much better about being an angel and feeling nothing?"

Castiel sighs, closing his eyes and pushing his container of food away. He stands up, throwing on some shoes and a coat.

"Where are you going?" Sam asks.

"I need some air," Castiel replies, grabbing a key and slamming the door behind him as he walks out.

Sam and Dean both turn away from the door to look at each other before turning back to their food, knowing that following him wouldn't help.

This is something he needs to reconcile for himself.

*~*~*~*

"I thought you might be here."

Castiel opens his eyes, his gaze meeting Anna's as she stands in front of him. She sits down next to him on the bench, tucking one of her legs underneath her. They are the only two in the park this morning, with most people off living their lives, not knowing that they're on the verge of death.

"It is good to see you," he says softly, pushing thoughts of the Apocalypse aside.

"You too," she replies, smiling lightly.

"Even better to know you're still alive."

She shoots him a light look. "You're the one who sent me up there."

Castiel sighs, looking down. "I was… following orders."

She lets her gaze go back to normal. "I know."

He nods, resting his forehead in his hands while his elbows rest on his knees.

"Being human isn't as easy as you thought, huh?" she asks, slightly amused.

"No," he admits softly before looking at her.

All amusement leaves her face as she rests back. "Ask me."

"Do you regret going back?"

"Yes. But, the regret fades, just like the rest of the human emotions. Especially with the retraining."

He sighs, frowning slightly. "I'm here to be punished."

She rolls her eyes. "Only Zachariah would think being stuck on Earth with Sam and Dean Winchester would be a punishment."

Castiel chuckles softly.

"Did it ever occur to you that your nightmares are more of Zachariah's punishment?" Anna asks.

"Yes," he replies softly.

"If you do survive the Apocalypse, and if everything does end, he'll stop those nightmares. He'll have no more reason to punish you."

He drops his head back toward his chest. "I rebelled. That deserves punishment."

She shakes her head. "Having to live through the Apocalypse as a mortal is enough of a punishment. Every angel knows that."

He nods, sighing.

"Believe me, it's more fulfilling to be human. To feel love, and trust, and loyalty. Everything Dean told you."

He looks back at her again. "Why did you go back, then?"

"Because Alastair and the demons would've killed every human and demon in the room after sending the angels back to Heaven. I had no choice."

He nods again, frowning slightly.

"You'll have your choice if you live. I know that. And, I hope you make the right choice."

Castiel exhales in response, closing his eyes. When he opens them, Anna is gone, and Castiel is alone in the park yet again.

*~*~*~*

Castiel walks into the motel room, finding Sam reading and Dean watching TV. The Winchesters look up as Castiel closes the door.

"You okay?" Sam asks first.

"I'm fine," Castiel replies, his mood decidedly less troubled than it was when he left. He sits down on Sam's bed, next to Dean. "I'm sorry."

Dean shakes his head. "It's fine," he says. "You're still new at the nightmares thing."

Castiel nods.

"What was it of?" Sam asks softly.

"You would not understand," Castiel explains to the younger Winchester while shaking his head slightly.

Sam purses his lips. "What do you mean?"

"You have never been to Hell."

Dean cringes slightly, a movement Castiel notices but doesn't acknowledge. Sam doesn't even notice, choosing instead to nod at Castiel's assessment.

"We need beer," Dean says, getting up.

Sam furrows his brow at the sudden proclamation, but watches nonetheless as Dean fishes through his wallet.

"I'll get it," the younger brother says after sharing a quick look with Castiel.

Dean shrugs, handing Sam the money and watching as the younger man grabs the keys and his coat and leaves the room.

"So, why did he want to get out of here so badly?" Dean asks.

"Awkward?" Castiel suggests with a shrug. "He was the only person in the room who had not been to Hell."

"That what your dream was of?"

Castiel tilts his head to the side and back. "The angelic version of it."

Dean scoffs.

Castiel knits his brows together. "Do not dismiss it so easily. Do you know what happens to an angel when they get too close to the human they protect?"

"This?" Dean asks, gesturing at Castiel.

"They get reminded, not so subtly, of who they really serve," Castiel says. "It is excruciating. It is exactly like Hell."

Dean glares. "How much time have you spent in Hell?"

Castiel glares back. "How long do you think it took me to find you? Do you think it was just like blinking and flying in there to grab you and throw you back into your body?"

Dean shrugs.

"It took us 15 Hell-years to find you," Castiel explains, letting go of the glare. "Fifteen years of watching souls get tortured, fighting demons, trying to get to you. It was not easy. It never is easy to get a soul out of Hell."

"How many times have you had to do it?" Dean asks, genuinely curious.

Castiel shrugs. "Five or six. Except the other souls had orders to go straight to Heaven, not go back into their body on Earth. Which, by the way, was also not easy to do. Those Hellhounds did a number on you."

"Yeah, I know. I was there, remember?"

Castiel frowns at Dean's bitterness. "I'm sorry."

Dean shrugs. "So, your dream was about Angel-Hell?" he asks.

"More or less," Castiel replies.

"Why was Kelly Clarkson there?"

"Who?"

Dean looks at Castiel, finding nothing but confusion in the angel's features. Dean laughs, shaking his head. "Man, you have no idea who or what you're talking about in your sleep, do you?" he chuckles.

"I talk in my sleep?" Castiel asks.

Dean grins. "Oh, yeah. And you say some of the funniest things."

"Such as?"

"You were singing the 'Oscar Mayer Wiener' song."

"What's that?"

Dean smiles. "A commercial jingle from the 90s."

"1990s?"

Dean looks at him. "Did they have commercials in the 1890s? Or 1790s?"

Castiel considers that. "No," he says, before glaring at Dean. "Shut up."

Dean smirks.

Maybe I'm just crazy
Or the devil got inside
Either way, my soul is gone
And I'll end this all tonight

One hand throws the whiskey
And the other throws the gun
As he cries out to the Heavens
"I am not my father's son!"