Summary:

Sam and Dean managed to track down Castiel's vessel, and Dean and Liam go to pay him a visit. Sam stays behind to train with Ruby... and then makes a call he probably shouldn't have.

And then he turns his phone off.

"No way."

Dean looked up from the questionable content of his laptop and looked in Sam's direction. "You find something?"

Sam nodded, an incredulous smile crossing his features as he stared at the screen. "I found Castiel."

Dean snapped his laptop shut, suddenly alert. "What?"

"I mean, not Castiel. But his vessel." Sam motioned for Dean to come to Bobby's desk and read over his shoulder. "I took a chance and searched a few databases for people reported missing around the time you got out of Hell, figuring that was about the time Castiel took his vessel, and boom."

Dean leaned over Sam's shoulder, squinted at the screen, and cursed under his breath. "That's him, alright." Either that, or Castiel's vessel had a twin. "Who is he?"

"James Novak. He was reported missing by his wife, Amelia, the same day you got out of Hell." Sam leaned back in his chair and heaved a sigh, almost deflating as he realized they had come to yet another hurdle. "We found his vessel. Now what?"

Dean felt his own enthusiasm leave, and all he could offer was a shrug. "I don't know, man." He snorted, returning to the couch and reclaiming his laptop. "I think we should let Heaven do what it wants with him."

Sam looked at Dean with a combination of understanding and disagreement. "Whatever hand he may have had in Liam's kidnapping, he also made sure Liam was as comfortable and connected to us as possible. And, in the end, he was the one who got Liam out." He paused. "If for nothing else, do it for Liam. He feels guilty about Castiel being gone, and he's not going to stop blaming himself until he knows Castiel is safe."

Dean inhaled and then let out a heavy sigh that rumbled into a groan. "Fine." He opened his laptop and clicked the URL bar. "What did you say the wife's name was?"

"Uh…" Sam looked back at the screen. "Amelia Novak. Why?"

Dean pulled up Google and put in the name. "I'm gonna see if I can find her on Facebook. I'll just say I have some information about her husband, try to get a feel for how much she knows about the angels possessing people, and go from there."

"Huh. That's actually a semi-good idea."

Dean snorted, scrolling down the page a little before quickly hitting a problem. "Yeah, I have those every now and then. Where was he reported missing from?"

Sam looked at the computer again and scrolled a bit. "Uh… let's see… Pontiac, Illinois."

Dean nodded and added that to his search parameters. "That'll help narrow things down."

Sam got to his feet then, leaving his laptop open. "I've got to take Liam to his first therapy session. I'll leave the missing persons report up on my computer."

Dean glanced up and saw Sam standing there with his fingers crossed.

Dean wet his lips, abandoning his search for a moment. "Do you… think he's gonna be okay? I mean, it's his first kill."

"It's a kill," Sam countered, sounding more scared than angry. "Don't say it like there's going to be more."

Dean gave Sam a tired, worn-down, knowing look. "There's going to be more."

Sam wet his lips and glanced away. He didn't say anything, but he clearly didn't agree. Even if he was willing to train Liam, he wasn't willing to fully immerse Liam in the hunter lifestyle. Which, Dean guessed, was probably for the best.

If Sam could actually make it work, that is.

Dean opted for a topic change. "You think the therapy's gonna help if he can't talk about hunting or running away from his group home?"

Sam nodded. "I do, actually." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "If the therapist is any good, Liam will be taught coping mechanisms that can be applied to all kinds of things. For example… let's say he learns some ways to stop feeling guilty about what his father did to him. He could then take those skills and use them to stop feeling guilty about killing monsters."

Dean pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "Makes sense to me." He held his hands up in a brief gesture of surrender. "I trust you, man. If you think it's a good idea, I'm all for it."

"Thanks." Sam smiled slightly. "I appreciate the support." He glanced at the clock and clapped his hands together. "Well! Gotta hit the road. Text me if you find anything."

Dean nodded without a verbal reply, turning his attention back to his screen. How do I know which Amelia is the Amelia I want…? He tried typing in 'James' along with the wife's name, but he still got a lot of results. James was too common a name, and really, Dean didn't even know if the guy went by James or Jim or Jimmy or something else entirely.

Like Sorzie.

Dean pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and started making various noises, clicking on a few pages before going back to the search bar for another try. On a whim, he typed in 'Amelia Novak Castiel.'

Hold up.

Dean leaned forward slightly, squinting at the top result. It looked like a blog that belonged to someone named Amelia… and she had the name 'Castiel' in the text of some of her posts.

Jackpot.

Sam was surprised when his phone rang a mere twenty minutes into Liam's session. Thankfully, it was a little, private practice, and there was no one in the waiting room but himself.

"Hello?" he answered, still keeping his voice down.

"I found her," Dean replied, and he actually sounded excited. "She had a blog, and in it, she wrote about her husband communicating with an angel he called, 'Castiel.' She thought he was totally crazy, so I doubt she knew anything useful about the angels, but she at least knew her husband thought they existed."

"Do you know where she is?" Sam glanced at the door to the room where Liam and the therapist were, and then he stopped. "Wait, did you say she had a blog?"

"I haven't found an exact address, but she's definitely from Pontiac. And yes, she had a blog. It looks like she updated every other day or so, but she hasn't made a post since… about five days after Castiel took Liam to the cabin. That was almost five months ago."

Sam could hear Dean moving around in the background, probably already packing up to go to Illinois. "Do you think something happened to her?"

"Well, the demons know Castiel. If they figured out who the vessel was, it makes sense that they'd want to pick his brain and see if he knew anything about what the angels are up to. Maybe Amelia and Claire got caught in the crossfire."

"Claire?" Sam echoed, scratching idly at the fabric of his jeans. "Who's Claire?"

"Daughter." Dean moved around some more. "She's about Liam's age. Amelia wrote about her, mostly. Some kinda Mommy Blog."

Sam crinkled his nose. "Weird." He couldn't imagine posting all of his parenting troubles on the internet for the world to see. Or even all of his good parenting points for that matter.

"So, you think something happened to the whole family?"

"I don't know, but we're gonna find out." Dean paused. "I figure we should leave ASAP, so swing by to pick me up, and we'll hit a drive-thru on the way."

Sam bit his lip, hesitating. "Actually…" He inhaled, bracing himself for Dean's reaction. "I was thinking maybe you could take Liam to Illinois without me? So, uh, so I could train with Ruby some more?"

There was dead silence on the line for a full five seconds.

Sam rubbed his face. "I know you aren't big on the whole demon blood thing, but with everything going on with Liam, I haven't been focusing enough on my training, and if we want to get rid of Lilith—"

"Yeah, I know. I've heard the spiel." Dean was silent for a moment, and then he sighed. "Fine. Do what you have to do. I'll take Liam to Illinois."

Sam tried not to be discouraged by Dean's lack of support. "I think it'll be good for both of you. Most of the time, we're both around, and Liam defaults to me because I'm the safest interaction for him. Maybe you two can stop off somewhere and do a little bonding."

Dean didn't say anything for a long moment, but he sounded a little less confrontational when he spoke again. "Yeah, okay. That's a good idea, I guess."

Sam smirked to himself. Success. "Okay. So, we'll be back in about an hour, and I'll give Liam and Baby to you, and you can be on your way."

"Sounds like a plan."

Sam went to hang up the phone, figuring that was the end of the conversation, but he stopped short when he heard Dean's voice again.

"Hey, Sammy?"

Sam crinkled his brow. "Yeah?"

"Be careful. Okay?"

Sam allowed a soft smile to pull at his lips, and he tilted his head back to rest it against the wall. "I will. I promise."

"Good."

Two seconds later, the line went dead, and Sam hung up on his end as well, a smile lingering on his lips. Because maybe Dean wasn't supportive of Sam's actions, but he was still supportive of Sam. Dean still cared, and that was enough for Sam.

It was more than enough for Sam.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." Dean picked up a Wendy's chicken nugget. "Observe." He used the nugget to scoop some chocolate Frosty from his cup like a tortilla chip, and then he put the whole thing in his mouth.

"Ew!" Liam's face twisted up in disgust. "That's gross!"

Dean chewed for a few seconds and then spoke around his food, holding out the Frosty cup. "Don't love it 'til you try it."

Liam's face was still twisted up, but he hesitantly grabbed a chicken nugget and approached the cup. "Are you sure you're not tricking me?"

Dean swallowed his food before replying. "Dude, it's literally the best thing ever. Just trust me."

Liam gave the food a wary onceover, and then he dipped his nugget into the Frosty the way Dean had. He gave Dean a final, suspicious look and took a bite. There was a brief second of tasting, and then his eyes lit right up.

"What did I tell you?" Dean grabbed another nugget, dipped it, and put the whole thing in his mouth. "It's Heaven on Earth."

Liam double-dipped—not that Dean minded—and put the rest of the nugget into his mouth. "This is so good!" He chewed a bit, covering his mouth. "How is it this good?"

Dean held up a finger, grabbing some fries and dipping them in the same way. "Do not question the deliciousness of a chocolate Frosty. Embrace it and move on."

Liam laughed and grabbed another nugget.

For about three minutes, there was nothing but silence and enjoyment of fast food, but then Liam slowly began talking.

"So… we're going to see this guy who was Castiel's vessel, but… it's not actually Castiel?"

"You got it." Dean sucked the salt from his fingers and wiped his hands on his jeans, turning the keys in the ignition. "We're gonna see if he knows anything about where Castiel is or what the angels are doing with him."

Liam nodded solemnly, finishing off the last few french fries and putting all of their garbage back in the paper bag. "Do you really think he'll know something?"

"He might." Dean turned to look behind them, putting the car in reverse and backing out of the parking space. "I don't know whether or not vessels can see what's going on when they're possessed. We'll have to ask James and see what he remembers."

Liam hummed softly and nodded, going quiet for several seconds. He pursed his lips, tilted his head, thought for a second, and spoke again.

"What else can you dip in a chocolate Frosty?"

Dean didn't know why he expected anything less than a massacre where Heaven and Hell were involved. Yet, somehow, he had been holding out hope for finding James Novak and his family alive and well in their little cottage in Pontiac, Illinois.

"Hasn't anyone noticed them missing?" Liam asked, poking his head through the door Dean had opened. "Ew." He drew back and covered his mouth and nose. "That's nasty."

Dean offered a heavy sigh and a nod. "Yeah. That's the smell of old blood."

"Are they… are they dead in there?"

"I don't think so. Dead people have a different smell." Dean shouldered the door open and cautiously entered, one hand resting on his firearm. "Wait a sec."

Liam waited obediently by the door.

Dean looked down first, noticing the large pile of mail accumulating behind the door, and then he looked around the house. It was chaos, with an overturned recliner and a broken coffee table being the most notable things. Dean turned his body slightly and cleared the kitchen next, noting it was relatively in order; though, it looked like dinner had been interrupted.

"I think we're good." Dean relaxed a little, letting his hand fall from his gun.

Liam nodded and stepped inside, pushing the door shut behind him. "So… now we investigate?"

Dean took another look around as he nodded. "You got it, buddy." He walked over to the living room and immediately found a large bloodstain behind the overturned recliner. Either Heaven didn't want Castiel escaping and going back to his vessel, or Hell saw an opportunity to get a foot in the pearly gates.

"More blood over here, Dean."

Dean stopped and turned in a circle, feeling a brief surge of panic when he didn't immediately see Liam. "Where are you?"

"I think it's the master bedroom." There were footsteps, and then Liam poked his head around the corner of a nearby hall. "This way."

Dean followed Liam's lead into the back room and found another, larger bloodstain on the floor. Oddly, there didn't appear to be any signs of a struggle in the bedroom. If this all came from the same person, whoever it was is definitely dead. He frowned at the sight of a tan overcoat lying on the bed.

"Well, this looks familiar," he muttered, grabbing the jacket and feeling around the pockets and sleeves. "So, he gets home, takes the coat off… goes downstairs to have dinner, and sometime before bed, he's attacked." Probably his wife and kid, too.

Huh?

Dean pulled two pieces of folded paper from the right jacket pocket. He dropped the overcoat and unfolded the first paper, an incredulous sort of smile pulling on his lips when he saw Liam's artistic flair on the page.

"Hey, look." Dean held the paper out toward Liam, trying to draw his attention away from the bloodstained floor. "Castiel hung onto your drawing all this time."

Liam gingerly took the paper from Dean, and it put a little smile on his face, so Dean considered it a success.

Now, what's this? Dean unfolded the second paper, squinting in confusion when he saw his own handwriting.

"…Sammy and I aren't looking for you because…"

"…we're looking for you because we…"

"…down here doing everything I can…"

Crap. When Dean wrote the letter, he hadn't even realized he was using present tense words. They weren't supposed to be looking for Liam, they were supposed to be tucking their tails and obeying, and Dean basically plastered the word disobedience on his own forehead.

But Castiel covered for him. Not to trick Sam and Dean, because he never told them about it, and certainly not for Heaven. Castiel covered for Dean because…

What? Because he cared? It didn't seem like he cared.

But clearly he did, at least to some extent, or he wouldn't have covered for Dean. He wouldn't have kept Liam's picture. He wouldn't have tried so hard to get Liam home.

"Where's Castiel now?" That was Liam, and the quiet, tentative tone told Dean Liam was expecting the worst.

"I don't know, buddy." Dean let out a sigh and refolded the paper in his hands, tucking it into his breast pocket and grabbing the coat from the bed. "But he's not here, and this scene is old. Somebody's going to come looking for the Novaks eventually, and we don't want to be here when they do."

Liam nodded affirmatively, folding the paper in his own hands and putting it in his pocket. "Okay. Let's go."

Dean tousled Liam's hair and headed for the door. "Sounds like a plan, little man."

Dean wasn't even halfway through his first step when the phone rang. Dean looked at Liam, who looked back at Dean and shrugged.

Dean ventured into the kitchen, following the ringing noise until he located a landline on the kitchen counter. Dean looked at Liam again, and then with a 'screw it' sort of expression, he grabbed the phone and answered.

"Novaks."

"Hi, Mr. Novak, my name is Felicity, I'm with Saint James Medical Center. Do you happen to have a relative by the name of Jimmy who has been missing?"

Dean's face screwed up in confusion, but he decided to roll with it. "Uh—yeah, actually. How did you know?"

"We think we may have found him. He gave his name before he passed out. He's about six feet tall, mid-thirties, with black hair and blue eyes." There was a brief pause and some clacking on the other end of the line. "Does that sound like your Jimmy?"

"That sounds exactly like him," Dean muttered, a little speechless. He gave Liam a thumbs up, and Liam's eyes brightened hopefully. "You said, uh, you said he only gave his name. Is he unconscious now?"

"Yes, he's currently in a coma. He was collapsed on the side of the road and gave his name to the person who called 911, but he was unconscious by the time paramedics arrived. Thankfully, there's only a few Novaks in the phone book." Felicity sounded entirely too cheerful given the circumstances. "He isn't in intensive care, and the doctor thinks he'll make a full recovery."

"Do they have any idea why he's comatose?" Dean asked, both to play his part as a concerned friend and to get information about where Castiel had been for the past five months.

"Well, there's a limit to how much I can share over the phone, but I will tell you he had a lot of superficial wounds. It almost looked…" Felicity cleared her throat. "Um, anyway, he had also been laying outside for a while in the cold rain. But, again, he's being treated, and they expect a full recovery."

Dean nodded slowly, making an 'uh' sound to cover his thinking time. Superficial wounds could be torture, and that could be either Heaven or Hell, but being left on the side of the road sounds like neither. "Uh, okay. Well, we definitely wanna get there ASAP, so where are you guys at?"

"2500 West Reynolds Street. We're here in Pontiac."

"Perfect." Dean was already inching toward the door. "We're leaving now."

"Alright. If he wakes up, is there anything you want me to tell him?"

"Just tell him Dean and Liam are coming to see him. He'll know who we are." And then, as angry as he was with Castiel, he added, "And tell him everything is gonna be okay."

"I can do that for you."

"Thanks. Okay, bye."

Dean hung up the phone and looked at Liam, immediately trying to ease the worry he saw in those wide, blue eyes. "He's okay. I mean, he's in rough shape, but the doctor thinks he's gonna be fine. He just… hasn't woken up yet."

Liam didn't look reassured. "He's in the hospital." He looked down at his feet, shame washing over his features. "This is all my fault."

"Hey, hey, hey. No." Dean tossed the phone onto the counter and knelt down in front of Liam. "This is not your fault. Not at all. Castiel made a choice. He knew what the consequences would be and he did it anyway."

"Because of me!" Liam shouted, tears welling up in his eyes.

Dean wet his lips. "Liam, you didn't make him do anything."

"But I kept saying I wanted to go home!" Liam cried, dragging his arm over his eyes. "And I was miserable, and I kept having dreams, and he felt bad, and that's why—"

Dean shook his head, interrupting. "No, buddy. No. Your reaction was normal. You shouldn't have been kidnapped in the first place." He put his hands on Liam's shoulders, squeezing them. "He got himself into the mess, and he had to get himself out of it."

Liam dropped his head, his voice choked with tears. "He wouldn't have kidnapped me if I wasn't important to Sam and you, and Sam never would have taken me if I had just pretended to sleep!"

Dean shook his head. "Woah, buddy, slow down." He rubbed Liam's upper arms. "Sam adores you."

"Sam feels bad for me!" Liam shot back, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. "He only came back for me because I said I wanted to sleep and not wake up, and I only did that for attention, and now everyone's getting hurt, and it's all my fault!"

Dean was pulling Liam into his arms before he could finish. "No, no, no, no, no. No." He shook his head, rubbing Liam's back. "Liam, buddy, we love you. Do you have any idea how many sad stories we've heard? How many people we've felt bad for? We're hunters. We walk away from all of them." He kept rubbing circles on Liam's back, holding him close, not knowing what else to do. "Sam didn't adopt you because he felt bad for you. He adopted you because he wanted you. Because he looked at you, and he saw something special."

Liam sobbed into Dean's shoulder, gripping Dean's shirt in his fists.

"Castiel helped you for the same reason. He saw something special in you, something that helped him realize what he was doing was wrong." Dean stopped rubbing for a moment to wrap the arm around Liam and give him a hug so tight he was almost afraid the little body would break. "None of this is your fault, Liam."

"Then why do I feel this way?" Liam cried, pressing his face into Dean's neck, hot tears dampening their skin.

"Because, buddy, feelings… they lie. They lie a lot. Figuring out how to tell when they're lying is just a part of growing up." Dean sighed, lifting Liam from the floor and letting little legs wrap around his waist. "I wish I had a better answer for you. I wish I could make you stop feeling like this."

Dean started making his way out to Baby as he spoke, because he really didn't want to get caught in a bloody house with a kid that wasn't his.

"Look, Lee… let's pretend it really is your fault for a second. Because it's not," Dean put as much emphasis into the word as possible, "but if it was, you don't beat yourself up over it." Dean opened the passenger door and put Liam in the seat, crouching beside the car with a smile. "You make it right. That's what a Winchester does." Or at least, that was what Winchesters tried to do.

Liam reached up to wipe his eyes. "Okay." He sniffed. "I'll try."

Dean smiled and tousled Liam's hair, hoping Liam's relief was genuine. "I'll help you out if I can."

Liam offered a weak smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, and Dean got the idea Liam had once again submitted because someone insisted, not because he believed what was said. As soon as a new thing happened, he would blame himself for it, and then the blame from all his previous 'mistakes' would come rushing back.

What I'd do if I ever met his parents… But Dean couldn't think about that. It wouldn't help Liam, and it wouldn't help them all be closer as a family. Onwards and upwards.

"You ready to go?"

Liam offered a small nod.

Dean tousled Liam's hair and then stood up, shutting the passenger side door and walking around the front of the vehicle. "Hospital, here we come."

"So, Cas is comatose with torture wounds and pneumonia, but they're expecting him to wake up soon. I think Lee and I are gonna find a motel and hang around here for a little while."

Sam shifted by the window, peering out as he spoke into the phone. "Alright." He glanced over his shoulder, flashed a smile, and then looked back out the window. "Listen, Dean… Ruby and I were talking…"

Dean didn't say anything, but Sam could sense the wall going up.

"She has a lead on where Lilith is going next."

"That's nice." Dean didn't sound impressed or open-minded. "Why does that matter?"

Sam wet his lips and tried to stay as non-oppositional as possible. "Dean, I know we had been hoping for more time, but… I've been training, and I'm getting good, and if we have the chance—"

"No. No way." To Sam's surprise, Dean didn't sound angry. He sounded worried; terrified, almost. "No, you're not ready. Okay, Bobby and I were holding you back, and I get that that's our fault, but you haven't been practicing enough. You can't go after Lilith. Not without some backup, and I can't help you right now."

"I'll have Ruby with me, Dean," Sam tried. "I wouldn't go into a fight like that alone."

"No," Dean insisted. "It's not safe." Dean lowered his voice. "You've got a kid now, Sam. You can't afford to take any chances with this."

"But Dean," Sam huffed out an incredulous little laugh, "it could be over."

"Sam, I said no." Dean heaved a sigh, and Sam imagined he was running a hand through his hair. "Not yet, okay?"

Sam wet his lips and nodded faintly. "Okay." There was no point in arguing. "Okay, you're right. It's too soon."

"Yeah." Dean didn't say anything for a second, and then he heaved a little sigh. "We'll get her, Sam. It'll all be over soon, just… just not yet."

"I know. I was just getting impatient. We'll wait." Sam pressed his lips together. "I'll talk to you and Lee later tonight, okay?"

"Okay. I'll keep you posted on the Cas situation."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

Sam pulled his phone away from his ear and sighed, snapping the device shut.

"No go?"

Sam turned slightly and looked at Ruby, not missing the warm thrum that coursed through his veins from the blood she had given him. "Dean's never going to give me the green light on this."

Ruby put her hands in her pockets and looked at Sam expectantly. "Then what do we do?"

Sam looked at his phone for a few seconds, and then he shook his head. He shoved the phone into his pocket and grabbed his jacket from the back of the motel chair. "Where are we headed?"

"Ilchester, Maryland."

Sam put his jacket on and gave it a few tugs to adjust it. "Let's do this."

"You sure?" Ruby asked, pulling her hands from her pockets and taking a few steps toward the door. "If Dean finds out—"

"I said let's do this." Sam strode past her and grabbed the door, swinging it open and letting himself out. "Come on."

"You're the boss."

Sam didn't say anything to that. He certainly didn't feel like the boss; he felt like he was cornered and out of options. He felt like he was tired of waiting for Dean not to get cold feet, and then he felt bad for thinking that way. He felt like a dad who wanted to raise his kid in a safe, happy, demon-free environment, and he felt like a dad who was running out of time.

He shouldn't have done it. He knew he shouldn't have done it. He could feel something—possibly Dean's years of influence—nagging at the back of his mind, telling him he shouldn't have done it.

But when Ruby asked him which way to turn out of the parking lot, he didn't tell her to go to Bobby's. He told her to go to Ilchester.

And then he turned his phone off.