"It's nothing."

Cas leaned his head back against the motel headboard, too weak to bother picking it up again. He closed his eyes, addressing Sam's voice over the phone. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Just jumping at shadows. Besides… you should be worrying about yourself. I shouldn't have bothered you."

Cas cleared his throat. "How are you Sam?"

"Good. I'm alright. I'm just...tired, you know. Be better when we get him back...after...after we cure him and I get done kicking his butt."

Cas smiled absently, but it faded as quickly as it came on. "I miss him."

"Yeah. Me too."

"I don't know what to do when we find him." Cas admitted.

Sam heaved a sigh. "All we can do is restrain him. Cure him. Then get back to finding a way to get that damn thing off his arm."

"Yeah…"

"How are you Cas?"

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, alright." Sam relented, knowing it wasn't the truth but not willing to call him on it. "I'll let you get back to healing. You let me know if I can help, or if this lead you have turns into anything."

"I will Sam. Goodbye."

Castiel closed the phone, losing his battle with another coughing fit.

That evening the angel left the run-down motel, heading towards the bar at the edge of town. It was weak… weaker than most leads. But someone had seen a guy with Dean's description leaving after a bar fight. When he got there, the picture didn't stir up any memories in the bartender or waitress, so reluctantly he had to leave it as another dead end.

Cas headed back towards his car, using the wall of the alleyway for support, annoyed he'd have to spend another night in that room. Rest was something he hadn't gotten used to as a human, and was even more annoying now that he was just a sick and failing angel. He wondered absently if he would live long enough to make it to the next town, to see if he could find Dean there. Or at least get a lead for Sam to follow. Try to make sure Sam could save him.

He tripped, a break in the concrete managing to send him to his knees. He sank back, his fingers brushing over the fresh scrapes through the rips in his pants. He closed his eyes against a wave of vertigo, feeling for a moment too weak to get back up.

"Just going to sit there?"

Castiel's eyes shot open and he whipped his head around to face the voice.

The demonic hunter walked casually forward, his figure coming into the broken glare of the street light. "Don't get up on my accord."

"Dean." he breathed, using the rough bricks to pull himself shakily to his feet.

"That is still my name." He moved forward, catching Castiel as he almost fell again, holding him close and steady. He studied the angel's face, looking him over. "I see you let it get pretty bad."

The low, rough voice was so nearly familiar, and it made Cas' chest ache. He leaned back as far as the hunter would let him, backed against the wall, trying to get a look at his face, to get a sense of what the hunter was thinking. "Dean… we've been looking for you."

"Yeah. Got that." Dean watched him curiously. "What is it you want from me?"

Cas' brow furrowed. "We can cure you… you don't have to be a demon."

Dean laughed, stepping back and letting Cas lean fully back on the wall. "Yeah, I'm not an idiot. I know how to cure a demon."

"Then why-?"

"Why the fuck do you think? I'm good the way I am."

"You can't mean that."

"No?" Dean stepped forward again, extending his arm. Cas flinched, but the hand that brushed the side of his face was gentle. "Thought you'd be thrilled."

Cas' expression twisted into confusion. "Why would I?"

"You never thought about it? I had what, maybe another couple years, life I led? A decade if I played my cards really well? Now I've got centuries. Millennia." He tilted his head, watching the angel's expression. "Your angel pals don't give a damn about you. They'll turn on you faster than you can blink. Sam will die. Kevin. Then what are you left with? Just you and me, baby."

"That's not-"

"What, not what you want?" Dean stepped backwards, arms spread. "Really?"

Cas tried to say something further, but he coughed instead. The force of that made him stagger, and he let himself sink back down the wall, trying to regain his balance. He didn't want to comment that he wasn't going to live long enough to see next week let alone the next century.

Dean walked forward once more, casually lifting Cas fully to his feet, rough hands holding him in place again so he didn't fall. The demon looked at Cas, emotions hidden. He bore black eyes into Cas' blue. "You're really not much good for anything right now, are you?"

"Dean… Please… go home. Sam-"

The hunter rolled his eyes. "Sam sam sam. Yes. I get it. Demon cure, blah blah." He tightened his grip on Cas' coat, abruptly yanking him off the wall and up against him, taking most of his weight. A blink and they were somewhere else. The demon kept his grasp firmly on Castiel, holding him up in the center of the room they now stood in.

Cas looked around himself, not sure where they were. There were no windows, so he guessed they were underground. The walls were unfinished concrete, somewhat industrial, and the work lights overhead hummed with old electricity.

"But like I said. I don't want to be cured. So. Good luck with that." Dean casually shifted so he was holding the angel up with only one hand fisted around Castiel's shirt. With his other hand, he reached into the inner pocket of the tan overcoat, removing the angel blade, this time tossing Cas a few feet, indifferent to the grunt of pain as the angel landed on all fours. "Now then, we have to fix your problem."

Cas made no moves to get up. "I don't-"

Dean walked over to the side of the room, flipping an industrial switch, the far lights kicking on with a buzz. Cas' eyes widened, locking his gaze on Hannah. Her hands were bound, and she had fresh blood across her face. Her shackled wrists were chained to a hook on the wall. She looked like she wanted to say something, but the gag in her mouth prevented it. Dean smiled, but it was a twisted grin, not one of warmth. "Oh, look at that. You need grace, and she's just full of it."

The realization washed over Cas. "Dean, no. Let her go." Cold fear gripped him as he started to understand what the hunter meant to do.

"Mmmh… ask nicely." Dean taunted, walking over to the bound angel, grabbing her hair back and baring her throat. "What's the magic word?"

"Dean, please!"

"Sorry. Not the word we were looking for." Castiel's blade was flicked across Hannah's neck, and the pure white energy pooled near the wound. A couple whispered words of enchantment and the grace was drawn out of the host and into a small jar that he then sealed with a stopper.

Cas looked on in helpless distress as Hannah's grace left her, and she became something akin to human. He looked up at Dean, making eye contact with the demonic hunter.

Dean held his gaze, that smile still in place as he flipped the blade around and neatly plunged it right through Hannah's chest without looking back.

Castiel closed his eyes against the sounds of her muffled struggle. The room fell silent as her life faded away.

"Enough of all that." Dean dismissed, using his newfound demonic abilities to dump the body outside before returning to be directly beside the fallen angel. He knelt beside him, wrapping one strong arm around Cas, pulling him up against his chest, supporting his weight.

Cas struggled, trying to push himself away from the demon, away from the iron grasp that held him, that cradled him close. "No."

"Don't be a martyr. She's already dead. It's not worth dying over now." Dean grasped Cas' head, holding it firmly in place as he opened the jar. The grace flowed out of the jar and into Cas, as if it was attracted to the small shreds of grace already still inside him. Dean dumped Cas on the ground, turning and walking away casually, protecting his eyes from the burning light as the grace coursed through Castiel's body, staving off his slow demise. He threw the glass vial and it shattered somewhere off in the distance.

Cas pulled himself to one knee, panting for a moment. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, taking in his surroundings with new understanding. This time he could see the glyphs around the room, the enochian warding that his senses had been too weak to see earlier. They were keeping his powers slightly muted, contained, as well as effectively trapping him.

"I figured we had a lot to chat about. Didn't want you deciding to move the party elsewhere." Dean smirked, following Cas' gaze to his new prison bars. "You understand."

"Why are you doing this?"

"What impresses me is that you honestly can't figure it out." Dean spread his arms. "Damn Cas, I knew you were stupid, but this is a whole new level."

"Let me go." Cas growled, his skin crawling as Dean kept talking like this, so brazen and biting.

Dean stopped, leaning casually against a support column and folding his arms across his chest. "Oh well, since you asked so sweetly. I'll get right on that."

Cas rose to his feet and stood rigidly in the center of the room, his eyes never leaving the hunter.

Dean looked over the angel for another minute. "When your grace isn't on it's last legs, I can see your wings." He observed flatly. "When I first woke up, nothing, but now." He imagined it wasn't truly seeing the wings themselves. But he could see the shadow of them behind him, like Cas manifested on occasion. Though where the shadow had once been full and robust, they were now a mere fraction of their former glory. They stood in tatters behind him.

The angel remained silent.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You know this is going to get really old, really fast. I just saved your life Castiel, it's the least you can do to talk to me."

"I did not wish to be saved that way."

"Get used to it, sunshine. Because until we find a more permanent solution, you're getting force fed a top up whenever it runs low."

"Why?"

"Because you're mine." Dean pushed himself off the post, walking towards the seraph. He watched with a look of amusement as Cas took a half step backwards from his approaching figure. "And you don't get to just check out of this shit show because you're too squeamish to hack it." His voice had an edge to it, something that hadn't been present when speaking earlier.

Castiel regarded him carefully. "You care what happens to me?"

"Don't be an idiot." Dean stopped right in front of Castiel, just shy of touching him. His imposing figure was matched by the angel's unyielding stance. "I'm still me."

"No. You aren't."

"Oh no?" Dean's mouth flicked back into a coy grin, his head tilting to the side in question.

Cas didn't break eye contact, his expression dark. "Same memories. But the mark has corrupted you. You aren't the Dean Winchester I loved."

The hunter's lips pulled into an amused grin. "I'm something new. But I can hear your heartbeat. You're intrigued."

Cas finally looked away, taking a step back, suddenly uncomfortable with the proximity.

Dean hissed a short laugh. "Oh now you're squeamish."

"Dean, please stop."

"Stop? Is that what you really want?"

Cas closed his eyes. He flinched as a hand extended, brushing against the side of his face. He repressed the urge to lean into it. He didn't expect this. He had been certain his grace would burn out before he ever again saw the hunter. His instincts were split between desperation for Dean and revulsion at the twisted thing he'd become. He was surprised when he felt himself pulled into an embrace.

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, holding him close for a moment. He worked through an unexpected rush of emotions himself, surprised by how relieved he was to see Cas upright. His mind had been turning since Crowley mentioned the angel's grace. He felt warm as Cas tentatively wrapped his arms around him as well.

Dean shifted, pulling back enough to cup his hand around the angel's chin and pull him up to meet his lips. Castiel's eyes widened for a moment, but against his better judgement he let them flutter shut and gave in.

The demon felt that rush, that electricity from contact with the angel, even stronger than before with the renewed grace flowing through him. He let the sensations wash over them, surprised at their strength. The sensation rivaled the call of the mark, the electricity nearly indistinguishable from the feeling of holding the blade. He slipped an arm around Cas, pressing him closer.

Cas dug his hand into the fabric of Dean's over-shirt, fighting a mental war with himself on whether or not to move away. He tried to hold onto the pain knowing what the hunter did to keep him alive. Of seeing Hannah's face. But it was hard when he was close, and warm, and so very Dean. He didn't resist when Dean pushed him backwards until he was pressed up against the support column.

Dean snaked a hand around Castiel's shoulders. The other slipped under the overcoat and suit coat, coaxing them off the angel's shoulder, Cas moving his arm to assist. Once down to the final layer, Dean pressed their bodies even closer, his arm wrapping around Cas' back.

Castiel only hesitated a moment before reaching up and pushing the hunter's over-shirt off. He could feel Dean loosening his tie and slipping it from his neck. His mind was reeling, his emotions giving him whiplash after all that had happened that day. He ran his arm up behind his head, slipping his hand through the demon's hair before running his hand down the back of his neck.

Dean pressed back into the touch, the electricity following that sensation. He moved his hand across the angel's collar bone, pushing him back against the column, his lips straying from the angel's mouth.

Cas closed his eyes, feeling the hunter lean in to kiss his neck. He closed his eyes, finally managing to push through this haze and take control of the situation. He put one arm across the demon's chest, pushing him up and off him. "Stop." He warned.

Dean tensed, his eyes black as he stared at the angel, breathing heavily. He put his hand back against Castiel's neck, but he was once again pushed off.

"Enough." Cas stood straight, pushing the hunter's arm out of the way and walking out from his cornered position.

Dean growled, turning abruptly and taking a few steps away. He stopped and turned to level a dark look at Cas. After a second he jerked his gaze away, and in a blink he was gone.

Castiel watched after where he had disappeared from. He staggered backwards, the conviction fading and leaving him shaky in its wake. He leaned back against that support column again, this time letting himself sink to the ground. He took a deep breath and leaned his head back, trying his best to ignore what just happened.