Chapter Thirty-Six "The Eleventh Hour"

After Sam returned Kevin to the library, he went in search of Dean. He wasn't in his room, but Sam wasn't really expecting him to be. He was about to go down to the garage when he met Benny and Lenore in the hallway.

"How is he?" Lenore asked.

Sam sighed. "Not good. Have you guys seen Dean?"

"No, but we might have found something that will help Castiel."

"Really?" Sam couldn't help feeling a little excited. Maybe Dean wouldn't have to go find Cas' grace if the angel could do it himself.

"Cas has two pints of his own blood in the refrigerator," Benny said. "He may have been saving it for Dean, or just in case. He can probably use it now."

"He may be able to go himself then," Sam said.

"Go where?" Lenore asked.

"Heaven. Well, temporarily. Kevin found out that his grace has to be there to keep the spell intact, and only Cas—or possibly Dean—would be able to sense where it is."

Lenore nodded knowingly. "He's not strong enough to travel now, but he might be if he used the blood."

"I'm gonna go see what he thinks. Assuming he's conscious."

"We'll find Dean," Benny said.

They hurried off in the direction Sam had come from and turned as if to go outside. Sam wasn't sure when he completely lost any understanding he once had of his older brother. Maybe that was why Dean and Benny got along so well. They understood each other in a way Sam couldn't. Still, Sam should have thought to check outside. He was still operating as if Dean were human, but all that time in Purgatory and the overwhelming smells inside the bunker would certainly make Dean want to get out.

Sam tried to put those thoughts out of his head for the moment. There was nothing he could do to fix things with Dean until they actually had the chance to talk about it, but he could try to help Cas, and that was almost the same thing.

When he got back to Cas' room, Meg had taken over the chair. Her feet were propped up on the edge of the bed almost touching Cas. She had her arms crossed tightly across her chest, and she was watching him without blinking.

"Possible good news," Sam said.

Meg turned to look at him with an emotionless gaze. "Where's Dean?" she asked.

"I don't know, but Benny and Lenore found that Cas stored some of his own blood in the refrigerator. They're looking for Dean now, but we may not have to send him for Cas' grace if his blood can make him stronger."

"Will it be enough?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. I never asked how much..."

"How much Dean drank?"

"Yeah."

Meg shook her head in disbelief and turned back to Cas. "You're supposed to be the good guys."

~oOo~

The real world was like the shock of cold air after holding one's breath for years. Lenore could feel every whisper of breeze across her skin. The trees had life and sound. Birds chirped, and insects crawled, and it was all real. It took a moment for all the sensations to quiet down so she could walk straight. Even though her life before Purgatory had been miserable, she had forgotten how good it felt to be alive.

The clouds were thick enough that the sun didn't hurt as much as it normally would. It took some time for her eyes to adjust, but her layers of clothing helped keep her from burning. There was still a sense of danger as she walked through the trees with Benny, but she soon realized that it wasn't a holdover from Purgatory. It was Dean.

They found him standing along a ridge, looking out at something in the distance. He didn't turn to face them as they approached, but he had to know they were there. Lenore wasn't sure what made her do it, but she began walking faster, passing Benny, and soon came to stand beside Dean. There was nothing to look at except for more woods, which she had seen enough of. It was the tightness of Dean's jaw, the twitching muscles in his neck that caught her attention.

"There's a way to make him better," she said. "And we may need you to do it."

"I can't help," Dean said in a dead voice. "I only make things worse."

"You may be the only one who can help. There's one thing we can try first, but if that doesn't work, it all comes down to you."

"I know when you're just trying to make me feel better. I can smell it."

"She's right though," Benny said from behind them. "Cas stored his own blood, I'm assuming for you, but it might make him better. If not, then you've got to go get his grace."

Dean turned to face Benny. "You know where it is?"

"It's in Heaven. I don't know why, but Sam says you or Cas has to be the one to get it, and if we can't get him on his feet, you're it."

"This whole thing wouldn't have happened if I hadn't come back."

"Then fix it."

"It's never going to be fixed! We can save his life, but he'll never be able to get away from me. It's like you said—I can't get that taste out of my mouth, out of my head. I'm trying to control whatever this thing is inside of me, but it's winning."

"Then fight harder," Lenore said, and it wasn't just words for her. "Just because you've failed doesn't mean you get to give up."

"Not like you?" Dean asked, turning to face her.

She couldn't argue with that, but it brought up some ugly memories. Dean had to know that. He was distracting her with her own past. "Not like me," she said, pushing aside the hurt. "Because you're stronger than me. You're stronger than all of us. Saving the world, killing the Alpha—it's not gonna happen until you're strong enough to fight yourself."

"What if I'm not?"

"Then you're not," Benny said. "But there's only one way to find out."

It felt like a bit of good cop/bad cop the way Lenore and Benny kept switching between sympathy and bluntness. It seemed to be working, though, because Dean was at least talking about it. He closed his eyes and let out a long breath through his nose.

"I'll do whatever he needs me to do," he said. "But it may not make a difference."

"That's the spirit," Benny said with a sardonic smile.

~oOo~

It took a while for Sam to leave again. Castiel spent most of that time pretending to sleep, occasionally actually drifting off. It didn't come naturally, but he was exhausted enough that it became unavoidable.

It wasn't so much that Castiel didn't want Sam around, but there were things he wanted to say to Meg that just wouldn't feel right with an audience. At least, that was his impression given how often humans chose to have personal conversations privately.

The rattling of the door brought Castiel back to consciousness, and he saw that he and Meg were alone. He had heard the previous conversation about the blood he had stored in the refrigerator, but he wasn't planning on commenting on that until Dean came back. He would be back eventually because Castiel needed him. It was just something Dean did. At the moment, that wasn't Castiel's main concern.

Meg had been keeping herself busy by staring at him and checking his bandages every once in a while. It reminded him vividly of how she watched over him in the mental hospital and why he fell in love with her. It wasn't all that sudden, but Castiel realized that was the first time he had thought it in so many words. He hadn't let himself believe it because of what they were, because they would inevitably be separated. But it was different now. He might die, and she was alive, and she had to know it wasn't all in her imagination.

"Meg?" he said.'

She sat up straighter in the chair and uncrossed her arms. "You should rest," she said.

"Yes, I've been resting. I wanted to talk to you."

"We can talk later."

"Why don't you want to talk now?"

Meg frowned as if she hadn't been expecting that. "I didn't say that."

"But it's true. You don't want to talk because you don't want to know. One way or the other, you don't want to know. You think I might die, and if I do, you'd rather not know."

Meg shook her head. "I already know. Maybe reality isn't quite what you think it is, but I've never been good at lying to myself. Other people, yeah, but no myself. You can say whatever you want. You can say you love me, but I can't believe it."

There was a sinking feeling in Castiel's chest. He couldn't understand why she would think that. "If you think—"

"I don't think; I know. No one will ever be as important to you as the one who put you here. You can't love anyone because he always comes first. I knew that before, but it's more obvious now."

"Dean needs me," Castiel said. "I can't really explain it."

"That's fine. I don't want the details. You're just gonna sit back and let him suck you dry while he plays hero. And it's gonna keep happening until you die and he hates himself, which is nothing new. But there's something I learned a while back: this world is better with you in it. I don't know what that means or why I care, but it's important. And you're throwing it away on him. He doesn't love you. He doesn't know how to love anyone. He's had plenty of chances to screw up saving the world. What makes this time any different?"

Everything Meg said was everything Castiel didn't want to think. He had to keep telling himself that Dean would save him and save everyone else. Without the angelic power he was consuming, Dean wouldn't be able to do that. But that was all beside the point. Meg needed to know that Castiel did love her. It was something completely unrelated to Dean. And something Castiel would have to prove.

"I'll show you," he said. "When I'm better, I'll show you."

"Don't waste your time on me," Meg said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms again, as if to say the conversation was over.

~oOo~

Going back to the scene of the crime wasn't high on Dean's list of stuff he wanted to do, but he knew he would have to. Especially now that there was a possibility of saving Cas and fixing all this. Somehow, even with all the power he knew he had, the thought of facing Meg's wrath still scared him a little. Maybe because he knew she was right. It seemed like she was the only person around here who was thinking about what was good for Cas. It was unsettling to think that even at his worst, everyone else still followed Dean. They trusted him and overlooked his mistakes. It was bound to get somebody killed.

Sam was coming from the opposite direction when Dean entered the hallway toward Cas' room. He was carrying a bunch of medical supplies, including Cas' blood. Dean couldn't see it, but he could smell it. His fingers twitched and for a second, he forgot why he was there.

"You okay?" Sam asked, looking curiously at Dean.

"Fine," Dean replied, hurrying to catch up to Sam in from of Cas' door.

Sam didn't press, though he must have known it was a lie. Instead, he opened the door, and they both went inside. As they did, Meg glared at Dean, but at least she didn't yell at him this time.

"I think I've got everything we need of the transfusion," Sam said.

"It won't work," Cas said, sounding surprisingly alert for someone who had collapsed a few hours ago.

"What do you mean?" Meg insisted. "If the blood loss makes you weak, then this should make you stronger."

"It's not enough to replace what I've lost. That's not why I saved it."

"We know why you saved it, but you need it more."

"I still won't be strong enough to make the trip and still find my grace. I might make it to Heaven only to fade away."

"Then Dean can go," Sam said. "But we should still give you the blood."

"No. No, he needs it." Cas looked directly at Dean as he said this.

Dean wished he could sink into the floor. "I've had enough," he said, looking anywhere but Cas' eyes.

"For a typical day, yes, but not for the trip to Heaven. Kevin said that only I would be able to sense my grace, but if you have enough of me in you, then you can too. It's the only way. If you hurry, everything will be okay."

"What part of this is even remotely okay?" Dean didn't notice exactly when his voice got louder, but he couldn't seem to stop. "Everything that's happening here is my fault, and it's not gonna stop."

"Actually, this is mostly my fault," Cas said matter-of-factly. "I'm the one who trusted Metatron and lost my grace in the first place. I'm the one who took another angel's grace. And I'm the one who made you drink my blood because I couldn't save you. Nevertheless, please trust me that this is the best way to make it right. My decisions have brought me here, so it should be my decision how the matter is resolved."

"But if I don't make it back in time—"

"You will." Cas looked over at Sam. "Give it to him."

Sam looked like he wanted to argue, but Cas had that unblinking stare going on that no one could refuse. Sam dug through his supplies and pulled out the two blood bags.

"You're sure about this, Cas?" he asked.

"Yes," Cas replied.

Meg made a huffing noise. "This is how the world ends," she said. "With everyone in such a hurry to bleed for Dean Winchester."

I meant to get a little further in the story than this, but the chapter kept getting longer, so I'll have to save the rest for next week. I promise it will be good.