Author's Note: In which Dean feels regret… I don't own Supernatural. Reviews are my lifeblood.

***Dean POV***

December 6, Early Morning

Dean was desperate. Sam – or, he corrected himself, the angel inside of Sam – had killed Kevin and left. It was a mark of how desperate he was that he called the last two people in the universe he really wanted to see. Truthfully, though, he cared much less now than he had 48 hours ago about things like ex-girlfriends and best friends who broke the "bro code."

Castiel and Ember let themselves in. "Dean," Castiel addressed him in his low voice, and Ember nodded. They were not touching or holding hands, and Dean wondered if there was trouble in paradise or if they had worked everything out. Something about their posture led him to suspect the later, however. He realized that they weren't touching out of respect for the situation, not because they didn't want to.

"We came as soon as we could," Castiel said.

"Dean, what happened here?" Ember said, looking around the room.

"After you told me it wasn't Ezekiel, I did a spell," Dean said. "But it didn't work. Whatever angel was inside Sam…" He stopped talking, then collected himself again. "He heard me planning the spell. He killed Kevin, and then he disappeared."

Ember let out a gasp. "Dean," she said, sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

It was too much, somehow. He hated her. He hated the both of them. He loved her. And he missed Sam. She had predicted this, all along! And yet she still sat across the table, helping him find his way out of another horrible decision – along with her boyfriend, his best friend.

"Sorry doesn't pay the bills, does it?" Dean said angrily. "It sure as hell ain't gonna bring Kevin back. I've lost everything! Sam's gone, Kevin's dead…" He looked at Ember, helplessly, and he knew she understood the words he refused to say: And I lost you. "We gotta find that son of a bitch," he finished.

"Dean, if the angel possessing Sam isn't Ezekiel, then who is it?" Castiel asked.

"A dead man walking," Dean said viciously.

"Sounds good to me," Ember said.

"You're gonna destroy him?" asked Castiel.

"Damn right," said Dean.

"But Dean," Castiel said. "If you kill an angel, its vessel dies, too."

"You think I don't know that? If I don't end Sam and that halo burns him out and I... God, I was so damn stupid."

"Do you remember Alfie?" Castiel asked, changing the subject, and clearly choosing not to agree with Dean.

"The kid angel? Yeah. Why?"

"Before he died, he told me the demons were able to dig into his mind, access his coding. We might be able to do that here. We might be able to bypass the angel and talk directly to Sam."

"And you think that would work?" asked Dean.

"I don't know, but I think we should try," Castiel said.

***Dean POV***

December 6, Dusk

Two hours later, Dean, Ember, and Castiel climbed in Ember's Cruze with none other than Crowley, whom Dean had kept imprisoned in the bunker's dungeon since the trials. They needed Crowley's help to dig into Sam's mind, and the price for his help was "a field trip. Dying for some fresh air. Chains on, naturally.." One of Crowley's contacts had managed to track the Impala, which Sam's angel had stolen, ultimately leading them to Somerset.

The motley crew drove for 18 hours, straight through, until finally they were able to catch up to and capture Sam. Whoever the angel was, Dean thought, he didn't have a lot of experience in fighting. As it turned out, what he did have a lot of experience in was being tortured. Dean was able to recognize when someone had known torture before, and this angel had. It had been hours, but nothing Crowley was doing appeared to be affecting the angel, aside from making him scream in pain. He continued to refuse to leave Sam's body.

Ember had left early that morning and had not returned. "I miss Sam, and I'd do just about anything for him, you know that," she had said. "But I didn't sign up for this. Call me when it's over." And she had gone to sit outside in the car.

Dean didn't blame her. After hours of watching the torture, he could bear it no more. "I can't watch that anymore," he told Castiel. They had gone further into the bowels of the abandoned building where they had chained up Sam. They could still hear the screaming, and even see Crowley, but it was not quite as graphic from here.

"I understand," Castiel said. "It's not Sam, but… It's still Sam."

"Pretty much, yeah. How are you doing?"

Castiel looked surprised. "You want to talk about me now?"

Dean was beyond caring. "I want to talk about anything that's not a demon sticking needles into my brother's brain." He looked out of a window, and he could feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "Yeah, humor me, man. How you doing?"

"Uh... I'm okay," Castiel said. He paused. Finally, he added, "I miss your friendship." He paused again, before adding, "I'm sorry. About Ember, I mean."

"Not sorry enough to let her alone, I suppose," Dean said.

"No," Castiel said slowly. "Not… not that sorry." He paused, then added, "You told me you were over her."

"I -..." Dean cut himself off. He had been about to say, "I am," but he supposed that was both more confusing and completely untrue. "Dude, you really don't get humans," he said finally.

"I think I'm starting to," Castiel said after a pause.

Both men were quiet for a minute. Then Dean said, "If you hurt her, I'll kill you."

"I understand," Castiel said.

Silence, again. Then Dean said, "It never would've happened if I hadn't kicked you out of the bunker."

Castiel nodded. "You thought Sam's life was at stake."

"Yeah," Dean said, "I got played."

Castiel sighed, looking at Dean. "I thought I was saving Heaven. I got played, too."

"Maybe we're both a couple of dumbasses," Dean said, smiling at his friend weakly.

Castiel smiled back, his smile a bit more wide than Dean's. "I prefer the word 'trusting.' Less dumb. Less ass."

Suddenly, they heard Crowley yell, "Laverne! Shirley! Get in here!" They rushed into the other room, only to find Sam unconscious.

"Pinhead's out cold, but watch this," said Crowley. He moved two of the needles stuck in Sam's left temple.

The angel sucked in a breath and began to speak in Enochian. "Zir noco iad Gadreel. Zir noco iad Gadreel."

"What's he saying?" asked Dean.

"His name. Gadreel," Castiel answered.

"Does that mean something to you?" asked Dean.

"Well, it's why I've never seen him," Answered Castiel. "He's been imprisoned since the dawn of time. Gadreel was the sentry who allowed Lucifer into the garden." Dean could tell Castiel was very angry.

"My, my. A celebrity," said Crowley.

"Wait, the garden? Like, Eden? Adam and Eve? Fig-leaves garden?"

"It's his fault – all of it!" Castiel exclaimed, letting his anger get the better of him. "The corruption of man, demons, hell. God left because of him. The archangels – the Apocalypse. If he hadn't been so weak, none of it would have happened. Castiel had grabbed Gadreel by the jacket and begun to shake him. "You ruined the universe, you damn son of a bitch!"

Dean grabbed Castiel quickly. "Cas! Cas! Hey!"

"Dean, he-…"

"I get it," Dean said, worried for his friend. "But you've got to chill. Go find Ember, and bring her back here."

For the next half hour, Crowley continued to probe needles into Gadreel's head. Ember had returned, but looked as though she might leave again at any moment. She and Castiel were holding hands, now, and Dean found that he barely even care.

"What's taking so long?" Dean snapped finally.

"Other than the fact that I'm trying to unravel a living, multidimensional knot of pure energy, not much," Crowley said sarcastically.

Finally, Gadreel gasped in a breath and opened his eyes. "It won't work. You will never find your brother. Go ahead. Poke and prod. I can sit in this chair for years and watch you fail over and over again. I've endured much worse than this, Dean. So...much...worse. And I have all the time in the world."

"Shut up!" Dean cried, reaching his limit. "All right. Plan "B." Cas, you've got to possess him."

"What?" said Ember and Castiel at the same time.

"Do it now! Get in there, tell Sam what's going on, and help him kick that lying son of a bitch out!"

"Uh, Dean…" said Ember slowly.

"I can't possess a vessel without permission," Castiel finished for her.

Suddenly Crowley cleared his throat.

"No. Not happening," said Dean.

"Don't be daft. Demons can take what they want. I can burrow into that rat's nest of a head. I can wake Sam up. Just call me plan "C."

"You can't –…" protested Castiel.

"Have either of you got a better idea?" he asked, but both Castiel and Ember stayed silent.

Finally, Ember said, "I suppose it can't get much worse. Sam's in chains. If nothing else, one of them will kill the other off, Gadreel or Crowley."

"What about the angel?" Dean asked.

"I'll work fast," Crowley said.

"And if he finds you?"

"I'll run. I'm not dying for you lot. Of course, if I do this, you're gonna have to..."

"Take off the leash. Yeah, I know."

"And it stays off. I save Sam, I leave here a free man. Do we have a deal?"

Dean didn't like the idea, but he knew Crowley always held up his end of deals. He looked at Ember for advice, or possibly for comfort.

"If you don't keep our deal, your reputation will be toast, you know," Ember commented. "You can't kill all of us."

"I'm aware of the risks, half-demon," snapped Crowley. "I see this as a win-win situation. Everybody leaves happy." Ember sighed, and nodded imperceptibly to Dean.

"Cas, burn off Sam's tattoo," Dean commanded.

"Dean," the angel protested.

"Do it. Do it," Dean said again.

Castiel did.

"If you mess with Sam, if you try anything –…"

"I keep my bargains," said the demon. "Besides, I don't want to be inside your brother any longer than I have to. I'm not one for sloppy seconds."

"When you find him, say "Poughkeepsie." It's our go word. It means "drop everything and run," Dean said.

"Fine," answered Crowley. "While I'm gone, hands off the suit."

Gadreel glared at Crowley. "I will destroy you."

"Eat me," Crowley snapped. And with that, a cloud of red smoke shot out of Crowley and into Sam's mouth.

***Sam POV***

December 7, Late Night

Sam felt horrible. There wasn't a joint or a bone in his body that didn't absolutely ache. He wasn't sure if this feeling was left over from the trials or the torture that his body had endured at the hands of Crowley over the last several hours.

Sam had gathered, even through the pain, that Crowley had stayed behind at the abandoned warehouse to deal with Abaddon, who was baring down upon the warehouse with at least two of her cronies. It was nearly two hours, therefore, before Ember and Dean both felt safe enough to stop their respective cars and gather to discuss what had happened.

Castiel healed Sam, and he felt better afterward. His head felt clearer than it had in months, he realized with a start.

"You feel better?" Castiel asked.

"A little, yeah," Sam answered.

"That angel was in you for a very long time," Ember said, looking at him closely.

"It'll take time to fully heal you," Castiel said. "We'll have to do it in stages."

Castiel and Ember grasped hands then, and walked away to a respectful distance. Sam understood – they were watching his confrontation with Dean. If the brothers decided to go separate ways, neither brother would be stranded.

"All right, let me hear it," said Dean.

Sam was angry. It occurred to him that this must have been how Dean had felt when he had opened the door for Lucifer – completely and utterly betrayed. It occurred to Sam that for the past few months, he had wondered why Ember had broken up with Dean, but this was clearly the answer. "What do you want me to say – that I'm pissed?" he asked. No words could describe it. "Okay. I am. I'm pissed. You lied to me. Again."

"I didn't have a choice," Dean said.

"I was ready to die, Dean!" Sam exclaimed, trying to calm himself but not having any luck.

"I know. But I wouldn't let you, because that's not in me," Dean responded.

"So what?" Sam asked. "You decide to trick me into being possessed by some… psycho angel?"

"He saved your life."

"So what?" Sam asked. "I was willing to die. Do you not understand that? And now… Kevin…" His eyes began to fill with tears, despite his best efforts.

"No," Dean said fiercely, "That is not on you. Kevin's blood is on my hands, and that ain't ever getting clean. I'll burn for that. I will. But I'll find Gadreel. And I will end that son of a bitch. But I'll do it alone."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" asked Sam. What he felt, however, was hopeful. He realized, suddenly, that he wanted nothing more to be away from Dean in this moment.

"Come on, man. Can't you see? I'm... I'm poison, Sam. People get close to me, they get killed...or worse. You know, I tell myself that I-I – I help more people than I hurt. And I tell myself that I'm – I'm doing it all for the right reasons, and I – I believe that. But I can't – I won't... Drag anybody through the muck with me. Not anymore." Dean looked pleadingly at his brother.

"Go. I'm not gonna stop you," said Sam numbly.

Dean's face fell, but he did not protest. "But don't go thinking that's the problem, 'cause it's not!" Sam yelled. More than anything, he realized, he was sick of Dean's constant need to protect him – this need which had gotten Dean sent to Hell, and started the apocalypse, and sent him to the cage, and caused Castiel's need to take over Heaven, and released the leviathans, and sent Dean to Purgatory." Taking decisions into his own hands and then making shitty ones, he thought to himself, remembering one of his discussions with Ember after their break-up.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked.

If Dean couldn't figure it out, it wasn't worth Sam's time. "Just go," he said.

And so Dean slowly walked to the Impala, leaving Sam to stand in the rain with the couple that should never have happened.