A/N: Howdy everyone. Hope you're all hanging in there. This is going to be quick because I am without a charger and my laptop is about to die. I swear, one day my update will not be super chaotic. Anyway, this is the chapter for episode 11x23, Alpha and Omega. I loved this episode, I loved writing this chapter, and I hope you all love it too. Please let me know in the reviews what you thought. Much love!

Blessings and Curses

Ba-da-bump…ba-da-bump…ba-da-bump…

"Sam?"

With a sharp intake of breath, Sam pulled himself from his dazed reverie and stopped drumming his fingers on the table.

With a sniff, he subtly dashed at his eyes and managed to pull a small smile onto his face. "Hey Cas. How're you feeling?"

Castiel sat gingerly next to him at the bar, turning his back on Crowley, Rowena and Chuck complaining about the news program on the big screen TV. "Like my insides have been shoved through a meat grinder. I am sure you recall the sensation," he groaned in reply, settling into the bar stool.

Sam nodded with a grimace. Though he had been soulless for much of the year following his rescue from the Cage, he could recall the feeling of charbroiled organs that would sometimes flare up. "I'm sorry, man. I wish you hadn't been forced into accepting Lucifer, but I appreciate that you took the chance. I…I didn't have the guts to go through it again."

"Nor should you have, Sam," Castiel murmured gently. "You already saved the world. This time was my turn…or so I thought."

Sam sighed sadly and turned his head to examine the wood grain of the bar. "Yeah…me too." He caught Castiel's puzzled look out of the corner of his eye and sighed again. "The Mark…last time, Dean took it because I was so angry with him that I told him our brotherhood didn't matter anymore. This time, I wanted to take it to show him that it did matter. That, this time, it was my turn to save him."

Castiel nodded heavily and turned to face the bar as well, his fingers idly tracing a pattern onto the wood. "Dean does do the majority of the saving on our Team Free Will, doesn't he? And when he cannot save us, he seems to punish himself."

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, that's Dean. You know, all he wants is a day at the beach together? Toes in the sand and drinks in our hands while we listen to the waves and fish or whatever people do at the beach. But…but he can't get out of his own way sometimes, you know? If he hadn't argued with me, I could've taken the Mark and…"

"Sam," Castiel interrupted gently. "You know the Mark would not have worked. Amara is too powerful, too angry to be contained. As terrible as it is, this is the only way."

Sam huffed, holding onto his anger despite feeling it slowly drip away like water drips down an icicle during a spring thaw.

"I…I know. But why does it always have to be Dean, Cas? Why is Amara so fixated on him? I get that he had the Mark but…"

"Sam, look around you. God, The Former King of Hell, and an incredibly powerful witch are gathered because Death put a soul bomb in your brother. Perhaps you and I had a hand in gathering them, but, if we are honest with ourselves, it is mostly Dean's doing. For some reason, powerful beings such as these, as well as the monsters you hunt, they connect with Dean. He…" Castiel paused, searching for the right words. "He brings out the best in everyone."

"I know that, Cas! I do!" Sam begged. "But…but…" Sam's eyes welled up with tears and he turned away to try to hide them, but his friend was too keen and observant to let those tears slide.

"But?" he questioned gently, no judgement in his tone, for which Sam was thankful.

"But he's my brother, Cas," Sam whispered shamefully. "Why do I always have to lose him?"

Castiel sighed, leaning forward on the bar and gazing at the bottles of liquor behind it. It was a place that Dean would have enjoyed. Well, he enjoyed all establishments that offered grease laden food, copious amounts of liquor, and scantily clad women, but Castiel stood by his original assessment. Dean would have enjoyed their choice for the location of his memorial. However, Castiel could not grieve for his friend now. Not when Dean had charged him with the most important task of all: caring for Sam.

"You know," Castiel started carefully, keeping his eyes trained down. "I can recall Dean asking Bobby a very similar question when you were preparing to take on Lucifer."

Sam looked up. "Really?"

Cas nodded gravely. "Dean was petrified of the notion of losing you. And when the time came, he turned to Bobby for advice. And Bobby asked him this very question. 'Are you afraid of losing? Or of losing your brother?'" Castiel sighed deeply and met Sam's gaze. "I think we both know his answer to that question. To Dean, living without you is the most terrifying thing he has ever faced. Most likely, he believes that you will not be subject to those same feelings."

Sam was already shaking his head. "No…he knows how much I…he knows how…damnit, Cas! He knows what I would do to bring him back."

Castiel nodded. "I know you believe so. And perhaps we can all see it as well. But we both know Dean is blind to all of his strengths and focuses only on his faults."

"And now it doesn't matter. He's gone to blow himself to holy hell to save us again. And nobody will ever know it."

Castiel placed a grave hand on Sam's shoulder. "We'll know it. Other hunters will know it. Monsters will know it. Heaven and Hell, witches…we'll all know it. And Dean will know it as well. Because he will have died as he lived. Protecting you. Saving people, hunting things. Correct?"

Sam smiled half-heartedly. "Yeah, Cas. I guess you're right. Doesn't take away the sting though."

Castiel nodded. "I don't know if anything ever will, Sam. That is both your blessing and your curse."

Sam nodded. "Thanks, Cas. Honestly. I'm glad you're here."

Castiel nodded to him, a similar half smile on his face. "I will be here for as long as you need me, Sam. Dean made me promise."

A small, quick laugh escaped Sam's mouth as tears flooded his eyes again. "Of course, he did."

Castiel, unsure of what to do with such emotion, turned to scan the bar.

Chuck sat at a table, wrapped in as many blankets as possible, face wan and colourless.

"He looks terrible," Castiel murmured, wondering how he could possibly mourn his father and his brother in the same day. However, that was his blessing and his curse, and he would bear it with the pride of a Winchester.


A/N: Much love and I will see you next week! 3 more seasons of chapters left!