Twenty-seven
An hour of going through old books and files found the three of them weary, but not giving up yet. Another half an hour went by, and Castiel came to them both, holding a file open in his hands. "According to this," he said, talking to Sam, "we may be able to use the Grace that remains inside you to track Gadreel… if we can extract it."
"How would we do that?" Sam asked.
"Well… painfully," Cass admitted. "The Men of Letters believed that you could perform a tracking spell with extracted Grace, but they were never able to test the theory…"
Brooke came over to him, setting down her own file, and looked at the paper he and Sam were looking at. Drawn on a piece of paper was what looked to be a… giant needle—something that looked like it was meant to draw blood.
"Well, the Men of Letters didn't have a guinea pig," Sam said. "But we do."
Castiel stared at him. "You have a guinea pig?" he asked, and a bubble of excitement rose inside him. "Where?"
Brooke snorted, and glanced at Sam, who closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them again, and looked at the angel. "Me, Cass," he muttered. "I'm the guinea pig."
Castiel slowly turned away, staring off into space, and realized that Sam had been speaking metaphorically. "Oh."
He seemed so disappointed in the lack of an actual guinea pig that Brooke put a sympathetic hand on his arm, her lips twitching as she tried not to smile in amusement. W-We could get one, if you want, she said, only half-joking.
No, said Castiel. We'd have to be here all the time to take care of it, and… our lives are too chaotic for that.
###
They found the Grace-extracting device easily enough, and Sam seemed perfectly willing to go through with the procedure, but Castiel had doubts.
"Sam, may I ask you a question?" he asked.
"You just did," Sam teased.
Castiel hesitated. "Can I ask you another question?" he asked, frustrated.
Brooke snorted.
"Well technically you…" Sam stopped, realizing that Cass was never gonna get it. "Yeah, go ahead. What's up?"
Castiel cleared his throat. "Sam, the trials. You chose not to go through with them for a reason, didn't you? You chose to live, rather than to sacrifice yourself. You and Dean… you chose each other."
"Yeah, I did," Sam said, quietly. "We did. And then… Dean made a choice for me."
"What Dean did—
"It doesn't matter what Dean did," Sam snapped, moving past Castiel to head down the stairs, to the room where they were set to do the procedure. "Look, I could have put a stop to all this, Cass. I could have closed the Gates of Hell."
"Oh, Sam," Castiel said, wanting to tell him that Hell wasn't his problem.
"Dean's gone, okay?" Sam interrupted. "This is on me, now, and if I can find Gadreel… I can fix this."
Castiel stared imploringly at Brooke as Sam began to remove his shirt and sit down in the operating chair.
Brooke took a breath, stepping forward. "Sam, I don't know if you remember this… seeing as you were, uh… possessed by Lucifer, at the time, but…" She took another breath. "The one time that I expelled Castiel's Grace from my body, I died. The only reason I'm standing here right now is because Cass was resurrected and brought me back to life."
"When will you both get it through your heads?" Sam demanded, loudly. "I am willing to die if it will help. I won't let you make this decision for me!"
Brooke nodded, stepping back. I tried, she told her husband. But we should respect his wishes.
Castiel closed his eyes for a moment before accepting the old container in Sam' hand. He opened it, pulling out the device to be stuck into Sam's neck, to draw out the Grace in his body. He placed a hand on Sam's forehead, to keep his head still, and slowly stuck the long needle into Sam's neck.
Sam grunted, and grunted again as Castiel continued to push the needle in.
The angel kept a firm hand on Sam's forehead.
Brooke came around to Sam's other side and squeezed his hand.
He glanced at her. "I don't need—
"Shut up."
Castiel took a breath. "Now comes the part that will actually hurt," he said. "I'm gonna begin the extraction."
Sam stared up at the angel, waiting.
Cass began to slowly draw out the Grace in Sam's body, and Brooke saw its light slowly fill the vial in the device.
The veins in Sam's neck popped against his skin, and he strained against Castiel's hand on his forehead, and squeezed Brooke's hand subconsciously.
Brooke could feel the emotional pain that this was causing her husband, and he stopped as he stared down at the small amount of Grace inside the vial.
"Is it working?" Sam asked, his voice thick through the pain.
Castiel sighed. "Yeah," he said, but did not continue the extraction.
"But?" Sam asked, panting.
"I—I need to push the needle in deeper. We need more Grace in order to cast the spell."
"Okay, do it," Sam said, taking quick breaths through his nose and out his mouth, like he was giving birth.
Castiel grimaced. "Sam, if I get too close to—
"Damn it, Cass! Just do it!"
Across the Winchester's body, Castiel lifted his gaze and stared at Brooke. Brooke stared back, but gave no opinion.
After a moment, and with a grimace on his face, Castiel slowly began to push the needle deeper into Sam's neck.
Sam grunted again, and then released a strangled cry of pain and began to spasm, his hold on Brooke's hand squeezing and releasing over and over again. His legs began to kick as he cried out, his whole body lifting up off of the the chair.
Castiel quickly pulled the needle out of Sam's neck, concern flooding his mind. He had felt everything Sam had just felt, his hand pressed to the man's forehead.
"What the hell was that?" Sam demanded, gaining control of himself again.
"Your body is regressing to the state it was in before Gadreel," Castiel explained.
"Do we have enough Grace for the summoning spell?" Sam asked, clutching at the puncture wound on his neck. His eyelids were quickly taking on a red, bruised color, his voice barely above a whisper as he began to… die.
"Sam," Castiel said, trying to explain.
"Do we or not, Cass?" Sam demanded.
Castiel looked down at the vial, and a muscle in his jaw ticked. "No," he said.
Sam hesitated, still clutching at the hole in neck, then he suddenly put his hand down and turned his face away from Castiel. "Then keep going," he said.
The angel lifted his head, once more, and stared at his wife.
This time, Brooke began to slowly shake her head. We're gonna kill him, she said.
I'll… I'll be careful, Castiel murmured. If it looks like he's really going to die, I won't… He couldn't even finish the thought. Shaking his own head, he slowly inserted the needle back into Sam's neck.
Brooke stood beside the Winchester and let him squeeze the shit out of her hand. Her fingers were numb, but she didn't care. This was all she could do for him, and she wouldn't let go of him now.
A minute passed, and it was the longest minute of Brooke's life. She watched as Sam slowly began to fade, his breath growing shallower, his face pallid. He began to grow unresponsive.
"Sam?" Castiel said. "Sam?" He stopped with the device.
"Keep going," Sam ground out through a throat that was hardly functioning.
Castiel shook his head. "Why?" he asked, his tone of voice begging Sam to stop.
"We—we—we have to find Gadreel."
"Sam," Brooke said. "It isn't worth it."
"Why must the Winchesters run toward death?" Castiel asked, talking to himself. He began to pull the needle out of Sam's neck.
"No," Sam whispered, and let go of Brooke's hand to grasp the angel's. "Don't. Don't." He began to guide Castiel's hand, pushing the needle back into his neck. "Don't stop."
Brooke grimaced, turning her face away, but did not move.
"Sam," Castiel argued. "I have died multiple times, and when God resurrected me on the battlefield with Lucifer and Michael, and I saw my wife, lying dead on the ground, I… It taught me that all life is precious and must be protected at all costs. Even a life as pig-headed as a Winchester's."
"My life's not worth anymore than anyone else's," Sam breathed, barely conscious now. "Not Brooke's, not yours, not Dean's… or Kevin's."
That's what this was about… Brooke sighed, staring down at Sam, and slowly took his hand again. "Sam… Kevin's death was not your fault."
"Please," Sam begged, as if he had not heard her. "Please, help me do one thing right. Keep going."
Brooke wanted nothing more than to run out of the room as Castiel slowly began to push the needle even deeper into Sam's neck. She wanted to throw up as he started to scream. But she stood beside him, gritting her teeth, and squeezing his hand back just hard as he was squeezing hers.
Minutes passed, and the more Grace Castiel extracted, the worse Sam got, until he was no longer even capable of holding her hand. It sat loosely inside Brooke's. He began to bleed from his nose, and his left eye.
Cass, Brooke whispered, in her mind, as tears began to fall from her eyes. I don't care what Sam says. He's dying. You have to stop…
I know, Castiel replied. "Hold on," he said, gently, to Sam. "This may pinch." He pressed two fingers to either side of the needle, and pulled it out.
Sam groaned in pain. "Cass, what the hell?" he asked, weakly, turning his head to stare up at the angel.
Castiel pressed two fingers to Sam's forehead, pushing his head down against the seat, and healed his wounds.
Brooke stepped back, breathing heavily. Thank God. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering, terrified by how close Sam had come to death. A death that they had almost caused, on purpose.
"Cass!" Sam yelled, sitting up, suddenly full of energy. "What the hell was that?"
Castiel stood before Sam, feeling more right with himself than he had in days. "I've healed your wounds completely," he said.
"And the Grace?"
"Well, whatever Grace was inside you is gone, now. What's left of Gadreel is in here."
Brooke turned back to them, seeing her husband looking down at the glowing vial. "We'll just have to try the spell with what we have." He carefully placed the vial back into the old metal container.
"Damn it," Sam whispered.
"Sam," Castiel said, quietly, and then he turned and his voice was loud and powerful. "I want Gadreel to pay as much as you do. But nothing is worth losing you."
Brooke stilled, her shivers subsiding as she witnessed Castiel, speaking to Sam.
"You know, being human… It didn't just change my view of food. It changed my view of you. I mean, I can relate, now, to how you feel."
"What are you talkin' about?" Sam asked, grumpily.
Castiel gave the Winchester a sad smile. "The only person who has screwed things up more consistently than you… is me. And now I know what that guilt feels like."
Brooke's heart broke for her husband for, perhaps, the thousandth time, and she moved around Sam and went to him.
Automatically, he pulled her against his side, holding her, but continued to speak to Sam. "I know what it means to feel sorry, Sam. I am sorry."
Sam nodded, the fight seeming to have gone out of him. "I know."
"You know," Castiel continued, "old me—I would've just kept going. I would've jammed that needle in deeper, until you died. Because the ends always justified the means. But, what I went through…" He smiled a little, turning his head to look back at the peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the table. "That PB&J taught me that angels can change, so… who knows? Maybe Winchesters can, too." With a smile, he picked up the container holding the vial of Gadreel's Grace and walked away, to prepare the locating spell.
Brooke followed after him. Sam took a long time in getting up off the chair, so Castiel took a moment to focus on Brooke.
He placed his forehead against hers, murmuring softly, "You know, you taught me, more than anyone, that angels can change. That I can change." And he pulled her to him, holding her against his chest, softly running his fingers through her hair.
Brooke stood in his arms, exhausted from even watching Sam go through the hell he'd just endured, and wishing, suddenly, to be far away from here—somewhere beautiful and warm, with only her husband. You may have screwed things up a lot, she said, too tired to speak aloud, but you try harder than anyone I know to fix it all. To fix everything. Even if it whatever broke wasn't your fault. She took a shuddering breath. Please believe me when I tell you that you are deserving of love. She looked up into his face, blinking back sudden tears that made her face ache. I love you so much, she whispered, clutching his face in her hands, desperately.
He stared down at her, concern in his eyes, and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. I love you too, he said, and kissed her, gently.
…
The spell did not work. Brooke, Castiel, and Sam stared down into the bowl of ingredients, and Brooke, though she didn't know what was happening, could feel Cass' disappointment, which meant he had to know that the spell had failed.
"I'm sorry," he told Sam. "I'm afraid there wasn't enough Grace. We'll have to find Gadreel another way."
Sam leaned down against the table, sighing heavily. "It's all right, Cass," he said, after a moment. He cleared his throat. "You, uh… you were right. You were right about everything."
Castiel nodded, standing beside the Winchester brother.
Sam stood up and hugged him, quite suddenly.
Castiel stood, awkwardly, not reciprocating the hug. His eyes traveled over to where Brooke was standing, his thoughts scattering in the wind. W-What—
Brooke tried to think back… She didn't think Sam had ever hugged him before, and Cass had never really considered the two of them close enough for this sort of thing. She smiled at her flustered husband, shaking her head, slowly, in amusement.
"Now's the part where you hug back," Sam told him.
Brooke snorted, trying to hold in laughter.
"Oh," said Castiel. "Right. Uh… sorry." Slowly, stiffly, he patted Sam's back.
"There ya go," Sam said, laughing. He pulled back from the angel, patting him on the shoulder, and then patting him on the cheek, something that he and Dean did to each other a lot. He turned to Brooke, opening one arm. "You too?"
Brooke laughed and hugged him, like a normal person. Watch and learn, she told Castiel. I would think you'd had enough practice, hugging me.
Cass cleared his throat, wanting to get off this topic. "As far as I'm concerned," he began, "Metatron is the key to fixing everything that's wrong. I'm gonna find him." He patted Sam on the shoulder in a friendly manner, and then turned away, with one final thing to say. "You know, Sam… we could use all the help we could get to find Gadreel and Metatron." Call Dean.
Sam looked up at him across the table. "We got this," he said. No.
Castiel pursed his lips, but said nothing more, and walked away. Brooke followed.
###
"So," Brooke said, later, in their room. "We're goin' after Metatron?"
"That's the plan," Castiel replied. "That is… if you're… okay with it." He glanced up at her.
She smiled and went to him, wrapping her arms around him. "I wouldn't have expected anything less from you. Always trying to fix… everything." She closed her eyes, preparing for the exhaustion of whatever their next move was going to be.
He heard her thoughts and rested his chin atop her head. "We don't have to leave right this minute," he said, softly. "We can take another day, if you want."
"What would we do with another day?" she asked.
He pulled back from her, cupping her face in his hands. "Anything you want."
"Anything?" she repeated.
He pressed his forehead to hers. "Anything."
Her mind spun for a moment, and then she tugged on his hand and pulled him down onto the bed. "No sex," she said. "But lay down."
He removed his coat and obliged her, lying beside her on the bed.
She rolled onto her side, and he did the same, so that they faced each other. "Tell me something you like about yourself," she said.
He blinked at her, surprised. "Um…"
She placed a hand on his cheek. "Anything. Anything you like about yourself."
He stared at her with those blue eyes, and then closed them, his mind shying from hers.
"No, no, Castiel," she whispered. "Hey. Look at me."
Slowly, he opened his eyes again, and there was unspeakable pain in them.
She moved closer to him so that their foreheads touched, and held his face in her hands. "Just tell me… one thing. Anything. Humor me."
He took a shaky breath, and said, slowly, "My… my sense of loyalty."
"Good," she said, immediately. "That's good."
"Although, it seems it's usually misplaced," he followed up.
"No," she said, her voice harsh. "This is not a hate-fest. You stick with what you like about yourself. You will not speak badly about yourself, not here. Not right now. Not with me. Do you understand?"
He took another shaky, slow breath and placed a hand on top of hers. "Yes, ma'am," he said, with a small, watery smile.
She gave him a moment to compose himself, then said, "Tell me another thing you like about yourself. It can be the smallest thing. Don't think so hard."
"I…" He paused, closing his eyes. A tear rolled down the side of his nose. "I like the color of my eyes."
Brooke felt her own eyes watering, but pulled herself together. This time, she would be the strong one. "Yeah?" she asked. "Me too."
He released a short laugh.
"What else?"
He began to shake, horribly, but gripped her hand over his cheek, hard, and kept his composure. "I like that I make you feel safe," he said, his voice a little stronger.
"What else?" she repeated, gently. "Keep going."
"I like that I changed. That I… I feel things more. I like that I… wasn't a complete disaster as human." Another small laugh. "I like that I was able to calm down baby Tanya, when she was crying."
"I like your singing voice," Brooke said, teasingly.
He smiled, then, a genuine smile. "I don't think it's self-hating to say that my singing voice is awful."
"What are you talking about?" Brooke asked. "You sound wonderful." She smirked at him.
"Should… should I keep going?" he asked, a little nervously, but his voice was growing stronger.
"Yes."
And he did. Sometimes, it was a little like pulling teeth, but at the end of ten minutes, he had said another fifteen things he liked about himself. It was a start. It was the start of a kind of healing, plugging the little holes in Castiel's heart that had appeared over the years. Brooke was only sorry it had taken her so long to see how much pain her husband was in, and that she hadn't started doing this sooner. Still… It was better late than never.