They were close. He kept reminding himself of this fact even though the final piece needed was the one he was most uncertain of. With just his blood they got something, a little flare that at least confirmed their suspicion but it was Dean that would have to be mixed in. He was the one Cas had fished out of hell and Sam was truly afraid with how silent everything had been that his brother really was about to burn down everything.
He tried not to think about the news of what Dean had been up to lately, the quiet reports from Gabriel that his brother had gone on a torturing kick with hell's residents on the top of his list. The idea from Cas's confession in the car about Dean's behavior before all this mess plagued him, sliding into that line of thinking whenever he saw Lucifer now instead of only dwelling on where Cas was.
Lucifer's face was a mass of red flowing into dark and violent colors and Sam wanted to say something towards that but didn't know where to begin. At least the devil's left eye could open now, puffy with the swelling still, and he knew there was pain that Lucifer wasn't talking about.
So, they set out the bowls atop the cloth with all the ancient etchings that would direct this convoluted spell that had been thrown together after they carved up three others. The idea of finding Cas, getting him home, was a constant hum in him. Close, they were close and it would be over soon.
He made himself push all thoughts of failure straight out of his mind.
"Any word on the heavenly assist?" Bobby asked as they finished. "Or just that vague not answer the shifty one gave."
Sam snorted a little, because, yeah, shifty was Gabriel's middle name. "Not yet."
"Not like anything here is going to expire." It was almost like chiding and Sam bristled under Lucifer's tone until the devil coughed a little, drinking some water to head off a full-blown fit.
Probably shouldn't wail on Satan until after he'd gotten over his first almost deadly illness, Sam thought to himself, attempting to suffocate any dread that Cas himself might have an expiration date.
The look Bobby gave the devil did cheer him up a bit.
Before he could think of something else to talk about so they weren't all standing around awkwardly, a soft sigh of wing beats filled the air.
Dean. Both archangels were there he but could barely see Gabriel as his whole focus was driven full force onto his brother. Dean had changed, a button-up deep brown shirt with a darker brown leather jacket, jeans, boots and just looking calm. Not cold or distant or displaying anything else he would associate with an angel but just all Dean looking happy to see him.
"Dean?"
"Hey, Sam. Sorry long time no see."
His brother was coming over and Sam just wrapped his arms around him when he was even marginally close enough, relieved that Dean let him, then returned it. All the secret fears that his brother might just up and kill him were evaporating slowly as Dean felt alive, seemed whole in the here and now.
Stepping back, Dean clasped a hand on Bobby's shoulder who nodded, looking relieved himself, before Dean's attention fell to Lucifer.
To Satan's credit, he turned his injured face away, not saying that Sam had just up and whooped him into the ground while he was still sick and everything. A few steps, Lucifer trying to back up without giving in to the fear to just run because Sam was fully aware Gabriel was here, watching them, and none of the humans were going to get out if it wasn't wanted.
"Let me see," Dean was saying to an increasingly panicked Lucifer whose breaths came faster and faster. "Lucifer, if I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead."
At that tone, Lucifer finally stopped trying to find a way out and allowed Dean to raise his head, Dean taking in the extensive mess of bruising and pain.
"Gonna say you deserve this for something you did at some point," Dean said, running fingers lightly over the wound patterns. "You been giving them trouble?"
"No, Michael."
Sam shuffled at the strange unspoken plea in Lucifer's voice, uncomfortable because outside of occasional whining, Lucifer had been fine. Which was a strange thing to say with Satan deciding to move in, human or not.
Lucifer's eyes slipped closed, he let out a small, lost sound and Sam realized that Dean was healing his face, probably all of him, the constant reminder of everything fading into just normal skin, the exhaustion that plagued him sliding away.
A glance at Gabriel told him that the angel was just as shocked as he was at this little turn of events.
"Let's keep it that way."
"I enjoy being fed," Lucifer responded, flippant, but there was something else under all that, Sam not missing how those eyes went to him as Dean stepped back.
"Alright, enough of that. Is this the plan here?"
Dean had gone to the table, picking up the pages of scrawl they had come up with, signaling for Gabriel to come, the former trickster muttering to himself. Sam thought Gabriel was complaining of lack of attention, which, he felt, would be normal for a being used to everyone focused on him by his own doing.
"Should work," Gabriel said. "I'll chant if you want to do the bloodletting."
It was dizzying how fast this was, Dean waving him over and Sam coming, looking at Bobby who was watching intently but the old man didn't look like he felt anything was off. Or rather, was more off than normal. So, it was Gabriel on one side, him and Dean on the other, knife in his brother's hand, and he had a momentary thought of Dean just plunging it into him and he didn't miss the little frown Dean got.
Sam really disliked mind-reading relatives, especially when it was his existence that got one of the family members of said relatives kidnapped. Or angel-napped, or whatever you would call an angel that had been absconded with.
"Ready there, Sam?" Gabriel was looking at him with a faint hint of amusement and Sam doubly cursed the lack of privacy, getting why his brother had always harped about it for so long.
"Yeah."
He applauded himself for shaving off the little remark he wanted to make, didn't need to start a low-key fight here with Cas still trapped somewhere.
Bobby and Lucifer were by them as Gabriel started the chant, Dean cutting his own hand for blood before taking his. He winced a little as he felt the blade slice, his hand held out over the bowl that was filled with things barely pronounceable and trying not to think about the blood factor. He was surprised to feel warmth bloom in him as all the pain floated away, his once stiff fingers earned from beating on Lucifer normal again and he glanced at Dean.
A spark, a bright flame, and then nothing, both archangels watching, and Sam wanted to shake at least one to spit out if this had worked.
"Need a plan now –"
"It worked?"
He couldn't help but cut Dean off, needing to know if they had something to go on.
"Got a location, Sam," Dean told him, putting a hand on his shoulder to calm him, or maybe to keep him from just running out the door to get there. "Don't want to just burst right in there, just yet."
"Guessing from the level of power already used," Bobby said, watching them, fingers drumming on the table. "Don't need any more angels in the flypaper."
"Thank you for that." Gabriel managed to look annoyed, shaking his head. "Thinking we need a diversion."
Sam followed his gaze, noticing Dean did too, finding his eyes falling on an increasingly uncomfortable Lucifer.
"Do you want to keep being useful?" Dean asked him.
"If I die, Michael, I swear I will find a way to haunt you."
"Wouldn't expect less."
~x~
On his knees again, pain past breaking, he looked up at the noise and was startled to see Lucifer, radiant and whole in the room with them. The demon was too, half panicked in his movements as he rapidly stepped back under Lucifer's cold gaze.
"Master, you're – you're – "
"Very much here, yes." Lucifer waved a bored hand, Asmodeus not looking up. "I see you've been busy."
Castiel had many questions over this but kept still, staring up as his fallen brother look him over. A flash of something in those eyes that Castiel wanted to call rage but Lucifer kept his temper, not showing as though he felt anything towards him.
"I thought you had been lost."
"Then you were foolish," was Lucifer's response, his withering look kept the demon in check, eyes down, as Lucifer began to walk. "Tell me of this little project you have."
"I desired –" the demon stopped himself, trying to find words and Castiel knew he did not want to admit that this had begun as an attempt to free himself of the marks from Lucifer's punishment.
It was strange to agree with his fallen brother over something, yet this demon was foolish.
"Yes, yes, you desire. Got that part. Keep it moving."
Cold looks from Lucifer kept the demon's eyes constantly staring at the floor and Castiel noticed that Lucifer was up to something in his walking, that he was leaving something that the demon was too cowed to realize.
"I merely wished to better myself for you."
Lucifer let out a sound Castiel thought almost undignified, disbelieving in so many ways, Asmodeus growing more uneasy.
"Let's pretend that's the truth. What's all this?"
"I found a way to drain them, to make their power useful."
"I see."
Lucifer was behind him now, Castiel sensing he was crouched down and he did not know if it was to place what he needed to, or if it was to look more closely at his wounds. Seeing the demon begin to look up, he acted as though Lucifer had put him into great pain, those yellow eyes riveted on him and he knew the demon would not be able to resist the pleasure gotten from his suffering.
"And this great power you've been harnessing, you plan what with it?" Lucifer asked after a minute, having moved again to the far side of the room from the sound of his voice but Castiel did not dare look in case it drew the wrong attention.
"To free you."
"Of course you were. Can't say I'll be sorry to see you go."
Before the demon could answer Michael was there, hand around the thing's neck, Gabriel beside him, the feel of his brother's warmth a comfort he had feared he would never feel again. And Michael – he was whole, his light radiant here as he watched his oldest brother open his wings, his grace burning the twisted creature far past ashes and he felt relief settling in him that none of his brothers would be put through this pain again.
"Cas."
It was hard to see him look like that, Michael struggling, the depth of sorrow for his suffering, and Castiel wanted to tell him it was alright but knew it was a lie.
Gabriel was standing now and the two walked a little, taking in the symbols that decorated this room, Lucifer crouching in front of him, looking again like a human. It must have been an illusion cast on him, most likely Gabriel due to his skill at such a thing to slip Lucifer in to disarm the room to take the demon down in one swift course. Clever as it was cruel and Castiel was tempted to give his fallen brother a thank you for risking his own life, even if it has most likely been under pressure.
"You dying is going to make him moody," Lucifer told him, amazingly sounding as though he was the one wounded party and Castiel sensed there was more to this but kept it to himself.
"It's not as though I can help such a thing."
"Don't think he's going to see it that way."
"Then help him."
Lucifer let out a low laugh at the sharp tone used. "You missed the part where he tenderized my face with his fists."
Castiel frowned at this news, wondering if his brother was exaggerating as he looked fine and even in his fraying state he knew not that much time had passed. A glance over to where the archangels stood arguing between themselves and Castiel was stunned, noticing at last that Lucifer did not carry any signs of his long illness either now.
"Learn to care about something outside of yourself, Lucifer."
There was a look as though Lucifer planned to argue with that, and Castiel knew at one point, long ago, Lucifer had, but fell silent as the archangels returned.
"We can move you somewhere better for this, Cas." Michael's voice was gentle. "It doesn't have to be here."
"Sam."
"Cassie, he's not going to understand –" Gabriel stopped, looking at him, face tight in a way that was unbecoming of him.
"Get him."
A hesitation, then Gabriel was gone at Michael's command, taking Lucifer with him as Michael came forward, kneeling, not disturbed by the blood that marred the floor all around him.
"He wanted you, to do this to you."
"I'm so sorry, Cas." Michael's voice broke, Castiel leaning into his touch, his brother's eyes an endless sea of grief that had no promised end in sight.
All this time to think about what he wished to say when he knew the obvious and it almost left him at seeing his brother so distraught, knowing he was blaming himself. Castiel wanted to give idle words of hope that did not exist anymore.
"I died already," he said, watching that grief deepen. "I was given borrowed time and I do not regret it."
"Cas, man, don't –"
"I may not have known your true name when I first found your soul in hell, but your essence was enough. Who you are, I would choose to do it all again to see you like you are. This thing would have always sought you out, it is not your fault."
Michael leaned forward, forehead touching his own. His hands bogged down in chains and his ebbing strength yet he managed to reach out, taking his brother's hand.
"Little brother," Michael whispered to him, his grace filling him with comfort even if it could no longer heal the damage of a form forever fractured.
He wished he could speak of fair, convince Michael that this was fair, but it was not as Gabriel arrived with Sam, Michael releasing him some.
The child's eyes were horrified. Nothing Gabriel said would have prepared him for this and Castiel himself had only seen a handful of angels that were in states close to his since his creation, each one a memory seared into him at their pain. It was not a vision he wanted Sam to have of him but he had learned that leaving in silence did not help, Sam's own regrets still great of never saying goodbye to his brother before the hounds of hell tore that flesh to nothing.
Michael was helping Sam, getting him past the pure shock, the child coming to him, eyes wide, tears present yet most likely not felt at this time.
"You shouldn't have those out," Sam said, voice weak, trying for any words to ease this.
"I heard you, Sam," he said when the man was close to him, where Michael had been a moment before. Castiel knew both his brothers had their eyes on him now. "Any of them would tell you that is impossible but I heard you. I've been waiting to see you."
The agony in him was so strong that it felt like he would be torn apart simply since he insisted on still existing but he pushed it back for a little longer. Sam looked like he wanted to touch him but was afraid, eyes all over him, all the wounds, his body rendered close to a human and his clothing long since discarded as it had been in the way of a blade.
All those long hours were he listened to Sam, thinking of the words he wanted now were not forgotten as he found some final strength.
"You can touch me," he said, watching the caution used to do so, knowing that he looked like only pain. "He wanted to strip me of everything, have me tell of you and our family all in the name of power yet I heard you, my one comfort through all of this."
Sam looked like he wanted to say something, anything, but Castiel already knew where the man's mind was – it was on the idea that all he loved was always killed horrifically in front of him again and again. That he was the one responsible for all the devastation that his life was filled with.
"I want you to live and to pray to me, Sam."
Michael was staring at him with a look that he would call incredulous and Sam just looked lost.
"You'll be dead," Sam got out, his eyes dropping.
"If I can hear you in this place of utter desecration where too many of my brothers have died before me, then I have faith that I will always hear you."
It was the truth, it was the faith he had left, no matter how irrational it may be to others. It was a faith borne in these walls and he refused to let it die here with him.
Sam was shaking his head, his control slipping as it gave in to the reality in front of him and Castiel took his hand.
"Isn't – can't we –," Sam's voice growing frantic, unwilling to let go, Gabriel laying a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"Kiddo, he's in agony. Every second is like dying."
Despite his binds, he got Sam to come forward more, Michael getting him to place his head against his shoulder, arm around him, as Sam began to be overcome with grief. Gabriel's hand on his face and he looked up for a moment, his once lost brother's face pained.
"Stubborn little angel," Gabriel murmured, something fond in his tone that Castiel had finally become skilled enough to pick up on.
"Pray good things to me, Sam," he whispered to the man who shook his head, fingers pressing into him.
Michael moved closer, expanding his form to be able to hold both him and Sam as Gabriel went behind, careful hands upon his wings.
"This will be quick," Michael said.
They were waiting and he let his eyes close, nodding before Michael shattered his bindings.
He would have cried out from the pain if the air around him hadn't been so wondrous to finally feel. They were outside in the sunlight, free, finally free, and he wrapped his arms around Sam, feeling himself unwind faster and faster now. Whether it was just outside that place or ten thousand miles away, was no concern to him, as he tilted his head up, taking in the smells of earth one last time.
With his family beside him, he felt peace as death came.