Dean thought he'd never seen something so breathtaking as when Cas opened his eyes to the light. He scooped up Cas's head, peppering tiny kisses on his forehead, vaguely aware of the fact that he was doing it in front of the other angels and his brother. Cas smiled up at him and Dean returned the gesture, feeling relief washing over him. The time to care what anyone thought was past; They'd been to hell and back and Dean knew it was a miracle he held his angel in his arms. Alive.

And so he took a minute. Stole it, even, as the group of people around them watched on. He brushed Cas's hair back and laid a calming hand on his chest while he looked into his upside-down stare.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, you fucking got that?" he said, blinking back tears. He couldn't even manage to sound angry.

Cas smiled, placing his hand over Dean's and squeezing it before sitting up slowly. Dean draped an arm over him protectively prompting Cas to go slow. Cas nodded in thanks and then stood, his knees buckling for a moment before he steadied himself with Dean's support. Dean helped Cas don his bloody shirt, tie and jacket, like trying to piece him back together again.

"Castiel," Rebekah started, her face shadowed with regret. But Cas held up a hand, cutting her off. Still, it was Naomi he looked at when he started talking.

"It's my turn to talk," he said, his voice low and confident, even as he leaned weakly against Dean's torso. Dean felt his anger gaining momentum again as he viewed Naomi, and he moved to say something, to do something, but Cas held him back with a look. And he stayed. He knew he needed to let Cas handle this on his own. If there was anything the last few days had taught him, it was to trust the angel. Implicitly. It was a half formed thought, mostly because Dean didn't want to admit to it, but he realized there had been a lack of trust between them for a long time now. The fact that both of them had sought out Crowley before each other solidified that in a way for Dean.

Dean glanced up at Sam, feeling a sense of gratitude for his brother in that moment, because he'd done what neither he nor Cas had been able to until now. He knew Sam well enough to know his brother wouldn't have sat guarding the angels at the entrance to heaven if Cas hadn't asked him to. He felt sure it killed Sam to wait and hope for the best—because Dean knew it would have killed him. And at that moment, Dean felt a sense of gratitude. It was like Sam was showing them both all along what it looked like to put faith in the people you cared about. And Dean wondered if that wasn't what he'd been missing all along.

Dean was pulled away from that thought as he looked at Cas. The angel's eyes were fixed tightly on Naomi's as he looked at her.

"It's my turn," Cas said again, letting go of Dean and taking a slow step until he was standing firm in front of her.

"We," Cas gestured from Naomi to Rebekah to the angels imprisoned in the fire, "are a broken race. We're cycling through the fate's designs like they own us. Punishing ourselves," he looked to Rebekah, "Punishing our desires," he said, glancing at Thomas and Sarah. And finally, his gaze rested Solely on Naomi, "And punishing each other," he said, his tone sad.

He grabbed Dean's hand, lacing his fingers inside of it: "And I'm done."

Cas then let go and walked stiffly and slowly to the house, turning on the hose. He sprayed down the holy fire with a tired face, the motion deliberate; one small, last act to save the angels.

He then made his way over to Rebekah and placed a hand on her cheek. She looked up at him, surprised.

"It's ok," he said gently in a gesture of pardon, then reached up with his other hand, pulling her head forward, placing a delicate kiss on top of it. And then, he moved to Naomi, softly doing the same.

He walked back to Dean and Sam, and stopped to survey the skyline. The sun was starting to come up, peeking through the trees in thin beams, beckoning the start of a new day. He couldn't help but feel that he finally had family behind him and in front of him as he turned to look back at the angels once again.

"What do we do now?" Naomi breathed timidly, her hair blowing slightly in the wind. And Cas couldn't help but think the angels in front of him looked beautiful as the light started to pour over them.

And Cas smiled. Really smiled. Genuinely. "Forgive yourselves, and live," he said.

Then Cas walked to the Car between the two men beside him, feeling safe. Feeling whole. He left the angels behind him knowing something had started. Something had changed. He had acted as a sort of sacrifice, in a way, providing a fresh slate for those brave enough to take it. They were strong. They would be ok. Still, he knew it probably wouldn't be the last time he would encounter the angels, but he hoped that just maybe, he'd started an epidemic of sorts. A growing sense of momentum in freedom. A new world. But the thing that let him leave, the thing he realized that allowed him to finally walk away, was that it was their choice. And it wasn't his reign any more, or his job to control or decide for them; it was time for him to go home.