Three

They all sat silently in the Impala, waiting for Kevin Tran's mother to appear so that they could get on with rescuing the boy. But she was taking a long time, and the more time she took, the more on edge Brooke became. And, apparently, Dean was feeling the same way.

"Where the hell is she?" he muttered.

"She'll be here," Sam replied. "Look, mile marker 96 was kind of the halfway point."

Dean fell silent for a few minutes.

Brooke, for lack of anything better to do, took her angel blade out of her coat pocket and began to play with it again, flipping it around around in her hands, but careful to keep it over her own lap, lest it fall and slice Castiel open, who sat beside her. The angel could feel her tenseness and tried to soothe it with his mind, but she too on edge for it to do much good.

"Cass, can I talk to you outside?" Dean asked, suddenly, and got out of the car without waiting for a reply.

Castiel glanced at Brooke, sighed, and then slid over and opened the door, stepping out.

Brooke did what she always did anytime someone wanted to speak to Castiel privately. She focused on the part of his mind that ran, constantly in the background—a steady stream of Enochian, like chanting. It never worked, fully, to drown out whatever was being said between Castiel and whomever he was speaking to, but it did enough. Mostly, they had simply come to a silent agreement that whatever words were meant to be said in private would be conveniently ignored and never spoken about by the other person.

Castiel and Dean were only out there for, perhaps, a minute, before Kevin's mom showed up. Brooke and Sam got out of the car, Brooke moving automatically to Castiel's side. What is Kevin's mom's name, again? she asked, silently.

Linda, Castiel said.

"You can do this, can't you?" Linda asked, coming toward them all. "You can get him back?"

"How did Crowley find you?" Dean asked, not answering her question.

"Oh," she said, with a shrug of her shoulders. "I hired a witch and she ratted us out."

Castiel and Dean shared a glance.

"A witch?" Sam demanded.

Linda rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

"Why'd you hire a witch?" Sam asked.

"To make demon bombs, of course!"

Brooke squinted at her. What? she thought, incredulously. She had never heard of a… demon bomb.

"These are Kevin's notes," the woman said, holding up a plain, black, spiral notebook.

Sam took it from her hand, flipping through it.

"You have any idea where Crowley took him?" Dean asked.

"No," she said. "But, uh… this guy might." She pressed a button on her car keys and opened the trunk, to reveal a demon tied up inside it.

Brooke stared at the demon, wanting to run away, vomit, and stab the creature to death all at the same time. The Grace in her blood began to rise as she stared at its face. She had not seen any demons in Purgatory—a curious detail to be noted—but she had seen plenty of things just as ugly.

Castiel gripped her wrist, tightly, squeezing it until her fingers tinged from lack of blood flow. Steady, he warned.

She took a deep breath, imagining in her mind's eye a time when Castiel had laughed, a time when he had smiled at her, and she felt herself calm down. And Castiel, beside her, smiled shyly at the ground, happy that thoughts of him were what calmed her.

###

They drove where the demon told them to, and Dean killed it the moment they arrived. No one complained about it.

As they slunk through the building, looking for Kevin, Brooke kept close to Castiel's side, steadying her breathing, focusing on that chanting chorus of Enochian in the back of his mind. The four of them moved down some stairs, and, upon reaching the bottom, Dean held out his hand to those behind him, warning them to hide from the approaching demon wandering the halls, guarding the place.

Castiel pulled Brooke into his hidey-hole with him, holding her against his chest. She stood in his arms, trying to keep her breathing calm when all she wanted to do was go out there and stab the demon. She trembled as she waited, fighting the rage of adrenaline rushing through her. Castiel only held her harder.

After a minute, Brooke heard the sound of the demon dying, killed by the magic blade in Dean's possession. And suddenly, she could breathe again. They moved out of their hiding place and stood beside Sam and Dean. Sam glanced around, looking from one direction to the other. He landed on the right hallway. "I'll check this way," he said, and moved off.

Dean glanced at Cass and Brooke, motioning with his head in the other direction. They followed him, silently. After a few more minutes of skulking about, Castiel murmured, "We're very near Kevin." As it was the angels' job to protect the prophets, all angels could sense the presence of one, if they were close enough. Castiel took the lead, following the invisible thread that tied him to Kevin Tran, but they were not walking for long when a demon appeared behind them.

Dean flipped the knife around in his hand and went for the creature, but was picked up and thrown into a wall. Castiel shouldered past Brooke, intent on smiting it, but the demon raised his hand again, and pushed Castiel back. He pushed Castiel back.

"Cass?" Brooke asked, stepping in front of the demon. Are you okay?

I'm fine, Castiel said—a lie. Then he moved forward again, pressed his hand against the demon's forehead, and smote him. Immediately, Brooke felt the drain of his energy. He turned away and held onto the wall, panting hard, leaning heavily, unable to support his own weight. Brooke gripped one of his shoulders, able to offer little more than moral support. She had known, since they had returned to Earth, that Castiel was still weak. But even she had not known the extent of it, until now.

Dean picked himself up off the floor and went to the angel. "What the hell's goin' on?" he asked, holding Castiel up. "You're not all the way back, are you?"

Castiel could only continue to pant, trying to catch his breath, but he lifted his head and gave Dean a look, then glanced at Brooke. Brooke held his gaze for a moment, then looked at Dean, who was also giving her A Look. Neither one of them wanted to risk Castiel's life in these halls, but they needed to get Kevin back.

Dean sighed, patting Castiel's shoulder, and said, "Come on."

They moved. Brooke stayed right beside Castiel, there in case he stumbled, or slowed down.

I'm fine, he told her, again.

Don't fucking lie to me, she snapped.

The tendrils of his mind that were connected to hers flinched away from her for a moment, then resettled. I'm strong enough, he corrected.

Brooke did not reply.

They made it to a locked door and Dean took out his lock-picking tools. Brooke stood there, waiting, for about thirty seconds.

"It's not working," Dean growled, as he fiddled with the lock.

"Dean, I'm going in," Castiel said, behind him.

Brooke stared up at the side of his face as he stared seriously at the Winchester's back.

Dean turned to look at him. "Cass, no. You're not strong enough."

Castiel stared at him, then down at Brooke. In his face was hard resolve. "I'm strong enough," he repeated.

"Cass," Brooke began, laying a hand on his arm—

"I will not stand by, uselessly," he he interrupted her.

Brooke heaved a sigh, then looked at Dean, shrugging. Once Castiel truly set his mind to something, not even she could change it.

"Guys," Dean began, but Brooke ignored him.

"I'm going with you," she cut in, quickly, her mind scrambling frantically against the idea of Castiel leaving her for even a moment, especially to go do something stupid and dangerous.

Castiel glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smile. "Of course you are," he said. "I don't think I'd be strong enough to keep you away."

Brooke stared at his face, then her mind settled. She took hold of his arm, and was teleported through the door, into the room with Kevin and Crowley. As she stared at the demon, the Grace in her blood whined, but she fought it down, and fought it down, keeping the insanity of Purgatory at bay. Her goal was to protect Kevin. That was all. Beside her, Castiel swayed on his feet, exhausted just from teleporting. She gripped his arm, shoring him up until he found his feet again.

Crowley stared at the two of them, smiling. "Castiel," he said. "And Whore. Fresh from Purgatory. I wish you'd called first."

"Crowley," the angel growled.

"Which Castiel is it this time?" the demon asked. "I'm never sure. Madman or megalomaniac?"

"Kevin is coming with me," Castiel said, shuffling closer to the demon, and to the boy.

Brooke moved closer, too, focusing on Kevin. Castiel was trickling information to her, letting her know what the plan was, and it mostly involved getting Kevin the hell away from the two non-humans in the room.

"I think not," said Crowley, loudly, closing in on the boy at the same time that Brooke did. "The prophet's playing on my team now."

Brooke flinched at his being so close, and fought against the urge to scream maniacally and stab him with the nearest sharp object.

Steady, said Castiel.

Brooke placed a hand on Kevin's shoulder.

Castiel stared Crowley down, slipping the angel blade in his coat sleeve down into his hand. He re-gripped it and held it up as a warning.

But Crowley had an angel blade of his own.

Brooke, too, had her angel blade, gripped in the hand that was not touching Kevin's shoulder, but she was not to use it unless absolutely necessary. Her job was to keep the boy safe. She pulled him away from the table as the two beings faced off against each other.

"So this is how it's gonna be?" Castiel asked.

"It's all very West Side Story," Crowley said, "but let's be logical." He gave the angel a once-over. "You look like hell, and I should know. You're not up for this." He smirked, all bravado.

Castiel glanced, for one second, at Brooke. Then he glowed. Of course, to her, he was always glowing. But right then, he went so bright that he was nearly blinding. Still, she kept her eyes on him, and for just a few seconds, was reminded of how awe-struck she had been the first time she had ever seen him, in all his glory, those six years ago. He had walked through those warehouse doors, and even the sight of him had terrified the demons that had been tormenting her. He had been absolutely terrifying… and wondrously beautiful.

"Maybe you can get it up," Crowley said, "but you can't keep it up."

Castiel stared at the demon, and glowed even brighter, unfurling his wings.

Brooke saw both the shadow on the wall behind him, as well as his actual wings—a galaxy of stars and planets in a velvet sky.

Crowley was truly terrified now. "You're bluffing!" he shouted, but he was squinting, turning his face away from the light.

"Do you want to take that chance?" Castiel asked, and his voice penetrated her mind, echoing with a roar like fire billowing.

Brooke stood beside Kevin, and tears fell from her eyes as she gazed at Castiel, remembering, for the first time in a long time, who and what he truly was.

Castiel lifted his hand to destroy Crowley, but the demon was quick. He ducked underneath the angel's hand and grabbed the tablet, about to teleport away.

SMASH!

Castiel brought his fist down with nearly his full might. The glass table shattered into a million pieces, and the demon tablet in Crowley's hand cracked in two. Crowley was thrown back, with only half the tablet in his hand, and vanished.

In the same moment, Dean came bursting through the door.

Brooke let go of Kevin's shoulder and made her way to Castiel. Glass crunched beneath her shoes. She cried, staring at the angel, and bent down, touching his face.

Castiel saw her tears and reached out to touch her. What is it? he asked.

She shook her head, smiling. I had forgotten, she said. The strength in you. The… vastness of you.

He stared up at her from the floor, his eyes very serious. Penetrating.

I'm not afraid anymore, she said.

###

"That was a bonehead move, back there," Dean reprimanded them both, as he riffled around in the trunk of the Impala. "You could have gotten yourselves killed. Why didn't you wait for me?" He slammed the trunk closed.

"Well, we didn't get killed," Castiel said. "And it worked."

"And if it didn't?" Dean asked, staring at the angel.

"It would have been my problem," Castiel replied, finally looking back at Dean. He glanced down at Brooke. "Our problem," he corrected.

"Well, that's not the way I see it."

Castiel turned to fully face the Winchester. "Hey, everything isn't your responsibility. Getting me out of Purgatory wasn't your responsibility—

"You didn't get out," Dean snapped, looking at Brooke, too. "So, whose fault was it?"

"It's not about fault," said Castiel. "It's about will." Castiel tilted his head, gazing at his friend. "Dean, do you really not remember?"

Dean scoffed. "I lived it, Cass. Okay? I know what happened."

"No," Castiel said, gently, shaking his head. "No, you think you know. You remembered it the way you needed to."

"Look, I don't need to feel like hell for failing you, okay?" Dean stepped closer to the angel, looking him in the eyes. "For failing you like I've failed every other godforsaken thing that I care about! I don't need it!"

Castiel glanced down at Brooke for a moment, weighing his options. He sighed. "Dean, just look at it," he said, lifting his hand to Dean's forehead. "Really look at it."

Brooke stood calmly beside her husband as the memory of that day played in Dean Winchester's head.

When it was over, Dean opened his eyes again, and stared at them both incredulously.

"See, it wasn't that I was weak," Castiel explained. "And it wasn't that Brooke was weak. I was stronger than you. I pulled away, and Brooke chose to stay by my side. Nothing you could have done would have saved me, because I didn't want to be saved."

Brooke took a breath and held Castiel's hand.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean demanded.

"It's where I belonged," Castiel said, growing emotional. "I needed to do penance. After the things I did on Earth, and in Heaven, I didn't deserve to be out. And I saw that, clearly, when I was there. I…" He turned away. "I planned to stay all along. I just didn't know how to tell you."

Dean stared, his mouth a grim line. He looked somewhere between angry and depressed.

"You can't save everyone, my friend," Castiel told him, gently. "Though, you try."

Dean shook his head, glancing down at Brooke. "You were right there, with me," he said to her.

And she realized, then, that he felt just as guilty about leaving her as he did leaving Castiel.

"My place is beside my husband," she told him, squeezing Castiel's hand. "I am just as guilty as he is. I kept his secrets, I allowed him to open the doors to Purgatory. I allowed him to shatter Sam's Hell Wall. I stayed to do penance, just as Castiel did."

Dean stared at her, then back up at Castiel, his lower lip quivering.

"Hey," said Sam's voice, behind them all. "Everything okay?"

Dean did not answer.

"Yeah," Castiel replied. "Just, uh… setting a few things straight."

Sam began to say something about the tablet, when Brooke's head went: Blip!

Or, was it Castiel's head that had done it? Brooke squeezed her hand, expecting to feel Castiel's fingers in her own, then looked down. When had she let go of Castiel's hand? She did not recall doing so.

What the hell was that? Brooke asked.

Castiel glanced at her. I… don't know, he said.

"Guys, you okay?" Sam asked.

"I—I'm fine," said Castiel. "We're… fine. And, yes, we're with you, if that's all right." He turned to Dean.

Dean looked at them both, glancing between angel and human, and nodded.

Castiel shouldered past Sam and Dean, and Brooke followed. They went some distance away, and then Castiel turned to her. Are you all right? he asked.

Yes, I'm fine. I just… you felt that, too, didn't you?

He squinted at the ground, massaging a temple with his fingers. Yes, I felt it… I don't know what it was.

Brooke thought back, to when they had both lost their memories and assumed the identities of Ruth and Emmanuel. Every time they had tried to recall a memory from their pasts, it had caused pain. Headaches would form.

Maybe it's like that, she mused. Talking about Purgatory started to trigger a memory? Of how we got out, I assume. But maybe we're not ready to remember…

Castiel nodded. That… makes sense, I suppose. If that's the case, then we shouldn't try to force it.

No, she agreed. The memories will come, in time.

There was a pause, and Castiel reached out and cupped her face in his hands, bringing his forehead down to touch hers.

What is it? she asked, surprised at his sudden gentleness when she had said nothing to bring it on.

He smiled at her. You remembered.

Remembered?

You remembered me. Me, from… the beginning.

He played the memory in her head, of himself walking through those warehouse doors, destroying the demons who had been tormenting her, burning through the rope that had held her to the chair.

She returned his smile. You were beautiful, that day. You are beautiful. I had simply forgotten how strong you are…

Castiel closed his eyes for a moment, seeming to drink in her presence. Then he bent down, and kissed her.