Sam couldn't remember in detail the drive to the hospital, the journey passing in a panicked haze. Every now and then Dean would send him a concerned sidelong glance, but Sam barely noticed and neither brother exchanged any words.

For once Dean had been right about driving; it was quicker than flying, especially at Dean's breakneck speed. It still wasn't fast enough for Sam though, whose whole body was screaming with pent up anxiety, making him want to jump out of the car and run. It took every fibre of his being to not fling the car door open, and by the time they pulled into the hospital parking lot, his palms were practically bleeding from where his nails had dug into his clenched-up fists.

Nothing was fast enough. The directions from the main reception weren't given fast enough, their feet pounding on the clinical hallway floors as they ran didn't carry them fast enough, the nurse turning to get the doctor in response their panicked demands them didn't rush through the sealed doors fast enough.

As they waited, winded from their short exertion through the hospital building, Dean placed a calming hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Take a deep breath Sammy. And remember, no matter how bad it seems, whatever these guys say it doesn't matter. We know things they don't, right? We can fix things they can't."

Sam nodded trying to let his brother's words sink in, before narrowing his eyes, suddenly suspicious.

"What do you know? What did Ash tell you?"

"Nothing," Dean replied quickly. "He just got the alert that she'd been admitted. No more details than that."

Sam gave him an uncertain look and Dean carried on. "Hey, he can't hack what's not online. And that's all there was on the system. The must have not typed her up yet. I swear, I don't know any more than you do."

Sam didn't know whether or not he completely believed him, but before he could pursue it any further the doctor approached them.

"Mr Winchester?" he queried, looking between the two brothers for confirmation.

"I'm Sam Winchester," Sam responded, extending a hand. "This is my brother. How is she Doctor? Can I see her?"

"Doctor Winslow," the man offered, returning Sam's handshake and nodding an acknowledgement towards Dean. "The good news is she's out of ICU and she's stable. We have her sedated for now but she's not in any immediate danger."

"And the bad news?"

The doctor hesitated.

"Let's discus this somewhere more private," he suggested, then glanced briefly at Dean. "Your brother can wait here or–"

"I'd rather he hear what you have to say," Sam interjected, and the doctor nodded.

"That's fine. My office is just through here."

They followed him through the doors and were barely seated before Sam spoke again.

"Just tell me. Whatever it is just… Just tell me."

The doctor hesitated again, looking at his hands as he gathered his thoughts.

"I understand your wife had been abducted?" He asked and Sam nodded. "That would explain most of her injuries," he surmised.

"Which are?" Sam pressed.

Winslow took a breath before speaking again.

"It seems she was severely beaten and probably held in some form of restraints. She has a shattered wrist, dislocated shoulder, fractures in her collar and orbital bones, numerous lacerations and contusions all over her body, and was suffering from severe dehydration when she was brought in."

"What else?" Sam demanded, knowing that the medic was withholding and Winslow hesitated once more before speaking.

"More concerning is the likelihood that she's sustained multiple concussions. Unfortunately, that means we can't rule out the possibility of potential long term cognitive disfunction resulting from successive head trauma. I'm afraid it's just too early to say."

Sam sat back, letting the shock of all that information sink in. Dean glanced at his brother and, sensing that Sam was still dealing with the shock, stepped in.

"But none of that is life threatening, like you said. Right?"

"That's correct," the doctor conceded reluctantly.

"So he can go see her. We can talk to her, find out what–"

"Out of the question," he stated, shutting down the enquiry midstream. "She's heavily sedated, but even if she weren't… You have to understand, she's been through a severe trauma. Psychologically speaking, we don't know at this stage where she's at. Not to mention the physical recovery, which will be a long process. She's looking at pain and most likely anxiety medication, for the foreseeable future at the very least if not long term. Her mental functioning needs to be fully assessed before we can make any certain diagnosis in that regard. What she needs right now is rest. Time to heal. Time for her mind to recover some semblance of normality."

"Doctor my son was also abducted," Sam said, his tone brooking no argument. "And he's still missing. If Jess is capable, if she knows or remembers anything, trust me, the only thing she'll want to do right now is to help me find him. Until we get him back, there is no semblance of normality."

The doctor nodded, responding sympathetically to Sam's plight. "When she was brought in, she wasn't very coherent, but despite her confusion she was calling out for someone named Kyle. I take it that's your son?"

Sam nodded. "He's six months old," he added and the doctor shook his head in compassion.

"I have an eight month old daughter myself," he shared in a soft tone. "I can't begin to imagine what you must be going through. I'm so sorry."

"We don't need you to be sorry Doc," Dean countered brusquely even as Sam was nodding an acknowledgement to the doctor for his empathy. "We just need talk to her."

"I completely understand your eagerness," Winslow appeased. "But it won't do any good. She can't answer any questions."

"Then just let me see her," Sam appealed quietly. "Please. I just… I just need to see her."

The doctor wavered a moment, before nodding in surrender.

"Only you," he relented, addressing Sam. "And I'm afraid we won't be able to wake her. Not until the morning at the very least."

"Fine," Sam agreed. "Just take me to her."

The doctor nodded, getting ready to stand, but faltered, hesitating again.

"There was just one other question I had for you. It's not urgent by any means but…"

"What?" Sam asked, his worry rising up a notch again.

"Your wife, had she… has she ever suffered from any kind of rib injury? Or had surgery on her ribs of any kind? We couldn't find any mention of it in her medical records, but I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on the matter."

The question threw Sam and he shook his head in confusion.

"What? No. No, why? What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing's wrong," the doctor placated quickly. "It's just… unusual, that's all."

"What's unusual?" Sam asked, his irritation mounting and seeping into his voice.

"The scarring," Winslow explained. "On your wife's ribs. It's quite extraordinary. I've not seen anything like it before."

"Probably just from what she's been through," Dean offered, trying to put an end to the conversation and attempting to stand.

"No definitely not. This scarring, if that's what it even is, is older. It's partially healed and seems utterly benign, but still, it's highly peculiar."

"I don't understand," Sam pitched in. "What do you mean, highly peculiar?"

"Like I said, I've never seen anything like it before. I even sent a copy of her x-rays to a colleague of mine out of state. An expert. At first glance she's been stumped too."

Sam was about to say something when Dean intervened again, this time more tersely.

"She's not a pet science project Doc. If it's not got anything to do with what's happened to her and it's not life threatening, then what does it matter?" he stood. "I think we've got more important things to worry about right now. Sam?"

Sam looked up, still processing the latest revelations regarding his wife. Dean's words seemed to break through to him however, bringing him back to the present and he nodded his assent as he stood.

"My brother's right. For now, I just wanna see her."

"Yes," Winslow responded, sounding as though he'd been mildly chastised. "Yes of course. Follow me."

He led them through the hall a short distance to a private room.

"Now I have to caution you," he warned Sam gently as all three stood outside her door. "Her appearance will most likely shock you right now, due to the swelling and bruising. But as your brother pointed out, none of this is life threatening. Remember, the swelling will go down, the bruising will fade, and her bones will heal."

Sam nodded quickly in acknowledgement, eager to see his wife.

"I'll be right here Sammy," Dean added, indicating the hall. "Take your time."

Sam nodded again but didn't make eye contact, taking a breath before entering the dimly lit room. Dean saw inside briefly and despite knowing the details, still felt shock running through him at the sight. From the quickly snatched details he got the impression of tubes and wires, of monitors beeping and IV's dripping, but most shocking was Jessica's face, grotesquely misshapen and disturbingly discoloured. Then the door closed silently behind Sam and the vision was gone.

"There are some chairs where you can wait," Winslow said to Dean, indicating to the row of moulded seats a few feet away. "And there's a coffee machine just down the hallway there."

He made a move to leave but Dean stopped him.

"Hey Doc, who brought her in?"

The doctor shook his head. "We don't know. She wandered into the ER, but she must have been dropped off by someone. There's no way she walked here."

"You mean because of her injuries?"

"Well that, and the fact that, other than the blood, her clothes were practically dry. It was raining last night when she came in. Someone definitely brought her here."

"But no one saw who?"

"I'm afraid not."

"What about her clothes? And personal effects. Where are they?"

"The police took them. That reminds me, the detectives will probably want to have a word with your brother."

"You called the police?"

"Well yes. Given her injuries, obviously we were suspicious. And when we notified the police, they informed us of the open missing person file on her."

"And there was no sign of Kyle? You're certain about that?"

"As certain as I can be in a busy ER. She certainly didn't come in with the child, so I have to assume she was left here alone. I truly am sorry you know," Winslow said again in a sincere tone. "But I assure you, she will receive nothing but the best medical treatment whilst in our care. Both you and your brother can rest assured of that… Now if you'll excuse me…"

"Sure Doc," Dean nodded, realising there was nothing more to be gleaned from the man. "And thanks."

He made a move towards the chairs as though about to sit, waiting until the doctor had disappeared from the hall before quickly straightening up. He sent a message to Ash tasking him go over the hospital CCTV footage and intercepting the police report, though he suspected the man would have already been working on that before Dean had even instructed him to.

"Cas?" he called out in a hushed voice as soon as the message was sent. "We could use your help. We've got Jess. She's hurt."

This time he barely finished speaking before the angel appeared by his side.

"Dean," he greeted, his low gravelly timbre somehow seeming even more serious than usual. "How is she?"

"Pretty bad shape Cas," Dean admitted, even though he knew the angel had most likely already scanned her through the hospital walls with his x-ray angel radar vision, or whatever the hell it was. "She's sedated for the moment," he added.

"That's probably for the best," Cas surmised. "And the child?"

Dean shook his head. "Don't know."

"How did you find her?"

"Didn't. She was brought to the hospital sometime last night."

The angel looked perplexed. "Brought? By who?"

"Don't know," Dean repeated again, then sighed wearily. "Another thing I don't know. Ash's going over the footage but I doubt there's gonna be anything useful. They've covered their tracks pretty damn well so far," he shook his head again. "Damnit Cas, what the hell is going on? I feel like I'm playing catch-up in someone else's game and I don't even know the rules. Who's doing this? What did they want with her? What do they want with Kyle? Who are they? Is it Lilith? Or is it someone or something else? And if it's to get to me, why aren't they making a move? None of it makes any sense."

"I agree," Cas consoled. "It is puzzling."

"Tell me you at least found out something in Heaven," Dean asked, hoping for anything that would shed some light on what was happening.

The angel shook his head in response, but something about his manner seemed to intensify as though troubled. "Nothing good, and nothing of worth," he said at last simply. "Heaven has no answers as to what happened. There have been… other things that they have been occupied with. I'm sorry."

Dean sighed. "How bad is it?" He asked pessimistically, assuming Cas had meant that the other things Heaven was busy with referred to Lilith, knowing the answer would be bad no matter what. "How many Seals are left?"

"Not many. Perhaps just a handful."

"Maybe this is all just to get my attention," Dean scoffed morosely. "Lilith's way of keeping us distracted so she can finish it."

"Perhaps," Cas responded in a clipped tone and Dean gave him a look.

"You know it wouldn't hurt you once in a while to be a little more open and sharing during these deep conversations of ours. I mean Jesus Cas, it's like pulling teeth with you sometimes."

Castiel paused.

"I'm unclear what relevance orthodontic surgery has to the linear depth of our conversations," he said after a moment of quite consideration, before becoming more serious. "And I am not the messiah Dean," he added as an afterthought. "I thought you knew that."

Dean stared at him blankly for a moment, not knowing which part of that sentence to begin responding to first, his head shaking in exasperation before he gave up trying entirely.

"Just… Just forget it," he said, shoulders sagging in a defeated gesture. "Can you fix Jess or not?"

"Of course."

"That's something at least. Sam's in there with her. Best wait till he's done."

As if on cue, at that moment Sam exited Jess' room to join them in the deserted hallway. Dean instantly straightened, his bravado and confidence slipping back into place as effortlessly as he slipped into plaid shirts in the mornings.

"How is she?" he asked, though he already knew.

Sam looked up to meet his gaze and it twisted Dean's heart to see his brother looking so ashen and haunted, so clearly shocked.

"She's… She's not good. She got worked over pretty badly Dean. I…" But he couldn't finish the sentence.

"I can help with that," Cas said, stepping forward just as Sam noticed him standing a step behind his brother.

"Who are you?" Sam asked, instantly on guard.

"Relax," Dean reassured. "This is Cas."

"Cas?" Sam repeated, remembering the vague conversation in the Roadhouse.

"Hello," Cas said, the greeting sounding awkward and crooked somehow as he said it. "I'm here to help. I'm a–"

"Friend of mine," Dean spoke up, cutting him off. "He's here to help with Jess' injuries."

Sam shook his head not understanding. "You're a healer?" he asked. "I thought you were a psychic?"

Cas sent a quick confused glance towards Dean before answering Sam's question.

"I can heal," he clarified by way of response.

"And you just happened to be in the neighbourhood?" Sam pressed, suspicions still running high.

"I gave him a call, asked him to meet us here," Dean supplied.

"I don't remember seeing you call anyone," Sam commented. Then he turned to face Dean fully. "And what was all that crap in the doctor's office? What're you not telling me?"

"What're you talking about?"

"Cut the crap Dean. I know how you act when you're covering things up. You know more than you're telling me. I think you have done since the moment I came to you. What the hell was he talking about back there? What's wrong with Jessica's ribs?"

"Did he say there was anything wrong? You heard him yourself, it's old and it's not life threatening."

"And yet you seem to know about it," Sam shot back incredulously. "I mean, you must do, coz you're sure as hell not curious about it. Random scarring? Seriously?"

"If you're referring to the warding on her ribs, I can assure you it poses no danger to her health," Cas offered, interjecting before Dean could stop him.

Sam looked stunned.

"The what?" he demanded.

"Cas, not now," Dean said, but Sam instantly overruled him.

"No, exactly now. What warding? What the hell are you talking about?"

"The warding on her ribs. I placed it there, at your brother's behest."

"You did what?" Sam stared at Cas before turning to face his brother, his shock causing him to momentarily forget is anger. "Dean what the hell? Why the hell would you mess with my wife's ribs?"

"Not just your wife," Cas supplied, aiming to be helpful. "You've all been warded, including your children. But not your dog. I thought that unnecessary."

"Oh for God's sake Cas! Just shut the hell up!" Dean hissed.

"You wanted me to be more open and sharing," the angel responded, seeming genuinely confused and somewhat hurt.

"Yeah with me not…! Look just go in there and fix Jess."

"You're not going anywhere near my wife," Sam said, moving to step between Cas and the door to Jess' room. "Jesus Christ Dean," he said, running a hand over his face, looking as though he were about to throw up. "What the hell have you been up to? What have you got my family mixed up in?"

"Nothing," Dean replied quickly, earnestly "The warding was for your protection."

"Protection? Protection from what?"

"From being possessed or tracked by demons," Cas supplied, again receiving a berating glare from Dean.

"Oh my god!" Sam stammered, shaking his head and looking at his brother in disgust.

"Sammy, calm down. It's nothing that–"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Sam shot, cutting him off. "Why the hell would you go around behind my back and do something like that?!" he demanded, voice rising as he aimed the accusation at Dean. "Without even asking me. You had no right!"

"Look I get it," Dean calmed, raising his hands to appease his brother's mounting ire. "You're stressed, you're angry. I get it. What's happened to Jess– you're right to want payback. But I'm not the one you need to be pissed at."

"Aren't you?! You went behind our backs Dean! Behind my back! To do God only knows what and for all I know, everything that's happened is because of what you did!"

"I told you, it was for your protection," Dean reiterated, his own frustration now growing.

"You had no damned right Dean!" Sam yelled.

"No, I had a responsibility!" Dean shouted back, unable to withhold his irritation any longer. "What? You thought that just because you left the hunting life nothing bad would ever follow you out? I did what needed doing to keep you safe."

"You had no damned right!" Sam shouted again, frustration and anger causing him to shake.

"I did what needed doing," Dean repeated defiantly. "I won't apologise for that. And it's done so you can either take it or–"

Sam's fist made contact with Dean's jaw so quickly and with so much force, it sent both men keeling over. Dean shot out a hand to the wall to steady himself and stop from falling, while Sam was left bent over, hands resting on his knees, breathing hard. He looked back at Dean, unable to stem the feelings of betrayal and rage that were coursing through him.

"How could you Dean?" he accused, voice barely above a whisper. "I trusted you."

"It was for your own good," Dean maintained unrepentantly, rubbing his jaw as he straightened.

"I don't need you interfering in my life," Sam spat bitterly as he straightened. "You were the one who wanted to carry on in Dad's footsteps, remember. Not me. I left that life."

"Oh, you left that life? Really?" Dean shot, smiling humourlessly. "Then why d'you take on all those charity cases? Huh? The ones no one else will touch, the ones that always seem to have something unexplained about them."

Sam looked shocked.

"How long have you been spying on me?" he demanded.

"Long enough to know that you never really left. You talk the talk but you don't walk it. You've kept your foot in. All those hours you've logged giving pro bono legal advice to people who don't think anyone will believe them, who don't know how to explain what the hell they've been through. Oh but you know, don't you Sammy? You believe them. Cos you know what's out there. And you thought what? You could dabble on the side, just dip your toes in, and then not track the dirt back home with you."

"Shut up." Sam told him. He shook his head. "You've been spying on me. And you've been interfering with my family. How do I know this hasn't all been your fault?"

"The warding on your ribs would not have caused your wife and son's abduction," Castiel interjected, speaking up again, having seemingly recovered from Dean's earlier rebukes. "If anything, they were placed there to prevent such a thing from happening."

"And who the hell are you anyway?" Sam demanded, turning his attention to the stranger in the trench-coat. "Why are you here?"

"I told you," Dean answered for Cas. "I called him. He's here to help."

"I don't want any more help from you or your friends Dean."

"I can heal your wife's injuries," Cas offered.

"I don't want whatever hoodoo magic you're selling to come anywhere near my family again."

"I don't use hoodoo magic," Cas replied.

"Fine! Channelling the spirits, mixing potions, chanting in Latin, whatever brand of sideshow freak you are, just stay the hell away from us."

"Dean," Cas said, turning to the older Winchester as if silently petitioning him to make a decision. "We're wasting time."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed, then shook his head in resignation.

"Fine," he said, acquiescing. "Cas isn't a sideshow freak," he told Sam.

"I don't care what he is," Sam spat back.

"He's an angel."

Sam stared blankly at Dean before remembering that Ash had said something similar. "Is that some kind of code you and your hunter buddies use? What? I'm supposed to know what that means? Well I don't and I don't want to. I told you I don't care."

"And I told you, he's an angel."

"Right," Sam scoffed. "Because angels are real."

"We are."

"Just do the wing thing," Dean said to Cas in a worn-out tone. "Just show him."

"I told you," Sam repeated, voice rising. "I don't care."

The words had barely left his lips when the lights in the hallway began to flicker intermittently, slowly at first, then with greater frequency, seeming to converge directly overhead. Then the light above them burst, sending a shower of sparks raining down on them and Sam instinctively ducked his head. It was then that he noticed the shadow on the wall behind Castiel and even as he watched, the shadow seemed to darken and grow tall, as though Cas were moving despite standing perfectly still. And then, before Sam could question it, the shadow unfurled a pair of incredibly large wings and as they spread out across the wall, it seemed to Sam they were encompassing the entire breadth of the hallway. Castiel's eyes flashed a steely, incandescent blue, almost sheer white, and his stature seemed to lengthen and grow, even though he was also somehow physically unchanged and completely still. He seemed to tower above them, and Sam felt a deep, primal, instinctive wave of awe and terror surging through him at the sight.

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord." Castiel said, his voice like his eyes, suddenly piercing right through Sam. "Commander of Heavens armies. Loyal servant to the Word and Will of God." His shadow seemed to flex its wings and the light above showered another cascade of sparks over them. "And I assure you Sam, I mean you or your family no harm."

Quicker than it had appeared, the shadow receded and everything, other than the now fused hallway lights, returned to normal, as though nothing had happened.

"Oh my God!" Sam breathed, unable in that moment to fully process what he'd just witnessed.

"No," Castiel corrected. "Servant of God."

"Yeah, he's a little on the spectrum," Dean said. "You get used to it."

"Used to it?" Sam echoed, still shaken. "An angel."

"Yeah."

"An angel… How–"

"It doesn't matter. The main thing is he can help Jess."

That kicked Sam's brain back into gear a little.

"Help Jess? You mean heal her?"

"Yes."

"How?" Sam asked, despite everything still unable to completely let go of his misgivings when it came to trusting others, angelic or not, with the safety and wellbeing of people he loved. "I mean… will it hurt her? Will she feel anything?"

"Might be easier if you just show him Cas. Sam, give him your hand."

"My…? What? Why?"

"You're a pencil pusher Sammy. And even though you still punch like a girl," Dean reached out and grabbed Sam's hand before the younger Winchester could pull it away. "Yep. You've gone soft. It's already started to balloon."

It was true. The knuckles where they had made contact with Dean's jaw bone seemed slightly swollen and pink, and Sam became aware of the mild throbbing ache that had already begun spreading through the bones, an ache that, amidst the shock of seeing an angel, Sam had momentarily forgotten about. Dean held the hand out to the angel who took it gently in his own.

"Trust me," the angel said to Sam as he placed his palm gently over Sam's knuckles.

There's was a slight white glow. Sam didn't know quite how to describe the feeling, except that it felt like the glow had entered his hand somehow and was radiating through his knuckles, not in an unpleasant way at all, but almost as if he could feel some sort of energy irradiating and gently warming his hand. Barely a second later, it was over and Cas let go.

Sam flexed his hand gingerly, turning it over to examine it fully. The pain along with the swelling had completely vanished, the mild residual warmth the only trace that anything had happened. If anything in fact, Sam would have had to admit his hand felt better than new.

"All right," he said slowly, yielding. "Okay. Heal her. Please."

"Okay well work fast," Dean instructed, glancing down the length of the hall. "I'm betting that little firework display probably caught someone's attention."

Cas nodded in agreement, then paused.

"You understand that while I can heal her physical injuries, including any brain injury, without consequence, her psychological trauma is not something that can be dealt with as easily. That will most likely need to be left to heal with time."

"I understand," Sam responded.

"I could however wipe her memories if you wish? That would go some way towards helping her."

"No." Both brothers responded instantly and in unison. Sam sent Dean a quick glance, a fractional measure of trust returning at hearing his brother's instinctive and genuine response.

"Just deal with the physical," Dean told Cas. "But leave the swelling on her face for now," he added and Sam turned to him, ready to protest.

"It'll raise too many questions if that's healed," Dean explained quickly, anticipating his brother's reaction. "Hopefully the meds will keep her from waking up." He turned back to Cas. "Just fix the bones and the cuts and whatever. And the pain too. Get rid of that. We can deal with the rest soon as we get her out of here."

Cas nodded and disappeared, and Sam blinked at the empty space where the angel had been.

"You wanna move her?" he asked Dean after a beat, the question sounding a little incredulous.

"Safest thing to do is get her out of this place and back to the Roadhouse. You're gonna have to sign her out though."

"And you think moving her all that way, driving back with her, you think that'll be safe?" Sam pushed, still unconvinced.

"Cas can transport her instantly," Dean replied, and again carried on before Sam could respond, anticipating his brother's imminent protests. "It won't hurt her. And you can call Bobby for confirmation that she's there. It's the safest place for her. Plus, she'll be with the kids." He added, knowing that last detail would most likely be the one that would convince his brother.

"Fine." Sam agreed finally, not censoring the displeasure from his voice but not knowing what other options were available to him. He couldn't stay there with her, while Deanna and Eric were somewhere else, no more than he could leave her there alone and return to them without her. It was an impossible situation with only one possible outcome that worked in their favour, an outcome that Dean had already seemingly planned.

The brother's stood in silence for a moment until Sam spoke again.

"So… an angel?" he said tentatively, the realisation still feeling unreal to him.

"Yeah, it blows your mind," Dean responded, somewhat flippantly, the reticence and dismissal in his tone already returning. "Listen. The other thing is the police. They were called when Jess was admitted. And they wanna talk to you. We'll probably need to deal with them before we leave."

But Sam shook his head. "It's not a problem. I can take care of it with a phone call."

"Really?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

"Yeah." Sam said, pulling out his cell and stepping away. "Local PD's got no jurisdiction here anyway."

"Well look at you," Dean said, pursing his lips and nodding in approval, unable to hide the fact that he was mildly impressed. "Counsellor Sammy."

"It's Sam." Sam said frostily into the phone, both as greeting to whomever had answered the call and as warning to his brother, giving Dean a look before stepping away and taking the rest of the conversation out of earshot.

The formalities took a while to sort out. Winslow was clearly not impressed with their decision to have Jessica discharged, but Sam threw his professional weight around in a formidable fashion, and after some mildly veiled legal threats, the hospital relented. They walked out with Jessica in a wheelchair under the disapproving gaze of the doctor and other medical personnel. When they were safely out of sight, Cas reappeared, instantly remedying the remainder of Jess' swelling and facial wounds.

"Get her to the Roadhouse Cas. And stay with her till we get there," Dean instructed, ordering the angel as if he were commanding an underling.

Sam felt a little perturbed by his brother's manner, but the angel seemed to take no offence from the older Winchesters tone. He cocked his head to one side though, giving Dean a peculiar look before raising his hand slightly towards Dean's jaw where it had suffered Sam's fist.

"Would you like me to–?"

"What? No, I'm fine." Dean dismissed, annoyance covering his embarrassment at having his injury brought to light. "Just get her back, and keep them safe."

"I won't leave her side," the angel intoned, his steady deep voice seeming to grow somehow more serious as he said it. "I give you my word."

Dean appeared settled at that, and before Sam knew what had happened, both Jess and the angel had disappeared. His heart twisted and dropped at the sudden and abrupt departure, his eyes left staring at the empty wheelchair where mere seconds ago his wife had been seated. The loss caused by her sudden absence again, so soon after she had just been returned, stabbed at him. It was the only thing he felt through the numbness right then, but Dean gave him no time to indulge the hurt.

"Let's go. Sooner we move, sooner we get back."

Sam didn't respond, merely climbing into the Impala by way of consent, moving as though on autopilot, and the car pitched up gravel before he'd even closed the door, speeding them away into the dead of night.


tbc

Thank you for reading.

Thank you in particular to Kathy, Shazza19, Long Live BRUCAS & MewWinx96. You guys are genuinely awesome and I truly appreciate your comments, feedback and encouragement. Thank you!


Next update might be late, as the next chapter needs a lot of fixing. Possibly mid to late next week. I know that's longer than usual, I'm sorry. I will update as soon as possible though!