Chapter Twenty-Five:

Things were looking down, at least from Castiel's perspective, and quite literally. He had just finished talking with Dean and was now standing on the edge of the third floor stairs.

When Benny had shoved Cas away to save him from the onslaught of the guards, Cas had managed to stay on his feet and duck out of sight for awhile. As the minutes grew, he found some strength in his limbs returning - not enough to be helpful in a fight, but enough to search for Dean. Soon, he had gotten away from the fray altogether and found a staircase. It was as likely a way as any to go, and though it was daunting at first, using the railing as support proved to be quite helpful.

It was slow-going, but the thought of seeing Dean again sustained him. If they were reunited, Cas felt sure they could weather any storm, even one as volatile as Chuck.

He was nearly to floor three – with no clear thought of how to find Dean except to go on – when he had heard the sound of the shattering glass. It was coming from the hallway off the nearest landing.

He knew in his heart that fate had guided him to this spot. Shattering glass was a sound of purpose and action, a sound of a bullheaded and resourceful Dean Winchester. Cas practically flew up the last few steps and through the hall, stopping at a room which he guessed to be the most likely source of the noise.

He shoved his shoulder hard against the door, and a moment later he heard Dean's voice calling out, demanding to know who was there. Cas's spirit lifted knowing Dean was so close by. The two exchanged short greetings, and the hunter then quickly explained the situation to Cas. They would have to meet on the grounds and make a run for it, he said.

Cas felt a heaviness return to his heart. He'd used up a lot of energy getting to this point, and had placed a lot of stock on reuniting with Dean in person. But still, there was no other choice. He agreed to the plan and left the door, walking back to the stairway. His legs were feeling weak and shaky again, and his breathing was coming hard.

Cas braced himself against the handrail and began his descent. Each step was careful. He was afraid he would not be able to correct himself or catch himself if he started to fall.

He made his way down the first flight of stairs in this horribly slow fashion, and then the real trouble started. He felt a sensation of pins and needles start in his feet and progress upward. His body needed to rest...but no, he needed to move! Dean was waiting.

Cas was halfway down the second set of stairs when his fear came true. He overstepped by a few inches and his foot failed to find the next stair. Gravity took over and his grip slipped off the rail, arm flying out instead to brace for impact –

Two bodies emerged from around the corner on the even floor below , two sets of arms grabbed onto him before he could tumble any further. He saw a flash of red hair and then he was being set straight up and supported on each side. His whole body now was starting to feel numb, but he managed to turn his head to look at one of his rescuers.

"Charlie?" he questioned, upon seeing the woman beside him.

"Hiya, Cas," she said.

Then he turned his head to the other side and found a pair of dark determined eyes staring hard at him.

"Hello, Castiel," said Kevin. "I've been looking for you."

Cas tilted his head and squinted at the former servant of Azazel. "Why?"

Kevin carefully released his grip on Cas, and Charlie instinctively braced the former angel to compensate while Kevin dug around in his pocket.

Then the young man pulled out the vial of swirling grace.

Cas suddenly felt a pull towards that energy, as if his own internal being was striving to reunite with the vial's contents. But it couldn't be his, it couldn't be –

Kevin turned the vial slightly, and it was then Cas saw the truth of it upon the label:

His own name was staring back at him, in fine cursive letters.

Chuck had searched much of the castle for Amara, and yet the only things he found were signs of general battle and havoc. Some of his best guardsmen lay dead in the halls, and when he found Azazel in the same fashion, he was blinded by rage.

He cared not for the Count and had no grief for him, only bitter disappointment that Azazel had failed him as much as the rest. He kicked the Count's unmoving legs in a fit of petty anger.

Chuck closed his eyes and forced himself to think properly. Amara was free, but she had no hope of recovering her powers without a witch. Therefore she must be fleeing even now, out of his grasp.

Fleeing. Of course.

He cursed himself for being so stupid. The castle was no use to him, and it was the grounds he must search now.

He snapped his fingers.

Benny, Sam, and Dean had just made it back to the main gate when Prince Chuck appeared directly before them.

A thousand things seemed to happen at once: Dean made eye contact with the Prince and reached for a weapon only to remember in horror that he had none on his person. At the same time, Benny released the reins of the horses and his mouth grew sharp with fangs. Sam unsheathed his sword.

Benny and Sam stepped forward, shielding the unarmed Winchester. They glanced at each other in silent communication, and then without warning, they rushed Chuck from either side.

Prince Chuck merely sighed and snapped his fingers. The boys were thrown back by the unseen force and fell away into crumpled heaps upon the ground.

Dean growled with frustration, rage burning in his chest like wildfire.

The horses all scattered and ran, except Baby who pawed the ground nervously, looking wild and scared.

Then Dean, driven to the edge, leaped towards the Prince without much of a plan in mind. He didn't care that he didn't have a weapon, he was going to punch Chuck in his stupid, smug face.

Prince Chuck was too fast or powerful or both. The second Dean was in reach, his hand shot out to grab Dean by the throat.

The grip was tight and getting tighter. Dean gasped and his fingers scratched uselessly at the back of Chuck's hands.

"Where. Is. Amara," demanded Chuck, eyes glinting dangerously.

Dean was stunned. He had no intention of giving Chuck any information, but this was the one question he couldn't answer if he wanted to. The Queen had escaped apparently, but where was she now? Was it possible she had fled on her own, and now they were left in this mess?

But Chuck seemed to think Dean knew the answer, and it was quite possibly the only thing keeping him alive.

"I'm not telling you anything," Dean choked out.

Chuck sighed. "We'll see about that, Dean," he said, and then, from nowhere, a blade appeared in his hand, while the other remained clenched on Dean's throat. The god brought the point of it to Deans's face, against the skin of his cheek.

Dean closed his eyes and braced himself for pain and torture, but then a crashing sound off to their right made his eyes snap open again.

The castle's main gate had been smashed to smithereens. Light was spilling out onto the dark grounds and someone was silhouetted against it.

Dean squinted to get a better look and what he saw made his heart beat rapid-fire in his chest.

It was Cas.

But it was Cas as he'd never seen him before.

His eyes were glowing, a radiant unnatural blue shining from their sockets. And on his back, great black wings were unfurling outward. They were massive and powerful-looking.

On his heels, two smaller figures could be seen exiting the castle behind him, but Dean could hardly take his eyes away from Castiel.

"Oh hell," said Chuck, and he was shocked enough to release his grip on Dean's neck. He turned to face the angel instead.

Cas lifted a hand and flicked his wrist. Dean suddenly felt a tug on his back, as if he was being reeled away like a fish on a line. It was gentle enough that he was able to stay on his feet, and then he understood. While Chuck had let go of him and was distracted, Cas had taken the opportunity to put distance between him and the god.

He was protecting Dean. Again.

Dean looked around – he was now next to Sam and Benny. The vampire was sitting upright, but the giant lay still on the ground. Benny saw this and crawled over to his companion. Dean was torn between helping the two men and watching out for Cas, who was approaching Chuck with even footsteps.

"You will not hurt Dean Winchester," said Cas, in a gravelly, booming voice that resonated for all to hear. "You will not hurt anyone again."

Prince Chuck stood his ground, but Dean had to tear his eyes away from the scene when he heard a nearby voice cry out.

"Oh no, Sam!"

Two people were running towards them from the castle. Dean braced himself for a fight, but the concern on their faces made him think that they were perhaps friends, not foes.

Benny seemed to confirm this when he said, "Charlie? Kevin? What are you doing here?"

"We brought Castiel his grace, but never mind that now! Is Sam alright?" Charlie asked, clearly distressed.

"Unconscious," grunted Benny. "But we will all be a lot worse if Castiel can't hold Chuck off."

Dean looked back at Cas and Chuck, fear spiking through his heart. Cas might be an angel again, but Chuck was a god of immense power. Was there really any chance?

Prince Chuck appeared to be having the same thoughts. He stood nonchalantly across from Cas, an eyebrow raised in apparent amusement.

"So little Castiel got his wings back and thinks he can play on my level. Angels are a dime a dozen, if you've forgotten. Nothing compared to me."

Like Cas's voice, Chuck's words carried over the castle grounds, almost as a warning.

"Your conceit will be your downfall, Chuck," replied Cas calmly.

Prince Chuck scowled. It was an ugly, pitiless look. He snapped his fingers.

Cas fell to his knees, clutching his stomach in sudden debilitating pain. He groaned aloud in anguish.

"Cas!" Dean yelled. He made to run towards the angel, but Charlie had grabbed one of his arms to hold him back. He attempted to shake her off, but she clutched him even tighter.

"Wait, wait, you idiot! I'm not stopping you, just, take this!" She shoved a sword into his hand.

He clutched the weapon around the handle. Dean spared her a grateful look to convey his thanks, and then took off again towards Chuck and Cas. Benny surged forward as well, anger and restrained grief for Sam spurring his need to fight.

Charlie and Kevin took Benny's place kneeling over Sam, checking his pulse and fretting helplessly. The giant was getting paler by the minute.

Chuck was ready for both Dean and Benny. He snapped his fingers once more, and both gasped and bent double just as they reached Cas, who was also still kneeling in the clutches of pain.

"This wasn't how I wanted this to go!" railed Chuck. "This was supposed to be epic! A war with devastating casualties and destruction, a reflection of the futility of mortal and semi-mortal beings – demons, angels, man. Now it's just me, a god, getting rid of three losers. That's not new! What's interesting about that story?"

As Chuck spoke, his rage grew and the pain the three were suffering intensified to unbearable levels.

The sword dropped from Dean's hand. His vision was getting fuzzy around the edges.

I guess this is it then, he thought sadly. He hadn't saved Cas or himself, and now Benny and probably the others were caught up in it as well. He wondered if maybe Sam would live to fight another day, but that didn't seem likely, either.

It was a sad thought upon a million other sad thoughts.

"Dean."

Cas managed to speak through his pain, and Dean forced himself to stay conscious and look towards the angel. His angel.

They caught each other's gaze. Cas's eyes were no longer the glowing supernatural blue – they had faded back to their normal color, but no less beautiful than ever.

Like the sea before a storm.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I failed."

"No," Dean coughed out. "Not to me."

He reached, near blind, feeling out for one of Cas's hand. He found it after a moment, and the angel interlocked their fingers together and gave Dean's hand a faint squeeze. Somewhere that felt distant now, Prince Chuck was still ranting.

But Cas was with him, here in the end and that – that gave him comfort and peace.

Dean's head swam and his vision dimmed to almost nothing and then—

A woman's voice, close at hand, rang out across the grounds. There was power and strength in every word; not a hint of fear could be detected.

"That's enough, Chuck," said the woman.

Suddenly Dean's pain was gone, a mere ghostly ache of itself remaining. He turned his head and saw a hooded figure silhouetted near the open gate.

Dean was too overwhelmed to think properly. Who? – he thought.

He didn't have to wait long for the answer.

The woman pulled off her hood.

Her hair fluttered in the wind, and she looked formidable and otherworldly against the dark horizon.

Queen Amara had arrived.