Chapter Nineteen

Sam and Dean were thinking of nothing more than the beds that were waiting for them and maybe a beer before. They were tired and Sam was still sore around the throat from his encounter with Roy. Their thoughts were of comfort and family not leviathans and fights. All that changed the second they turned the corner and saw Bobby flying through the air to collide with a stack of cars.

Dean slammed the brakes on and they both jumped out of the car, racing towards Castiel and the man that was gripping him around the throat.

"I've never tasted angel meat before, but I'm really looking forward to it," the man said. Then he did something unspeakable. He pulled back a fist and plunged it into Castiel's stomach.

They both cried out in unison as they ran forward. "No!"

The man dropped Castiel and he crumpled on the floor with a thud.

"Winchesters," the man said.

Sam didn't think, he just reacted. He picked up the sword from the floor and swung it through the air, chopping off the man's head. There was no sense of satisfaction as his head fell to the floor, just an overwhelming anger and sadness that blotted out all else.

"Lucifer!" Sam bellowed the name. He wasn't sure if he was calling for comfort or help or a miracle. All he knew was that he needed his angel there. He dropped to his knees beside Castiel and touched his cheek. It was cool to the touch and devoid of resistance.

Dean stood back, his hands covering his face as if he couldn't bear to see what had happened.

Bobby struggled forward on unsteady legs and dropped down opposite Sam; between them lay their fallen angel. But it wasn't their angel, not anymore. There was no grace in the body now. It was an empty vessel: the body of an ad salesman from Pontiac, Illinois.

Dean broke his silence with a muffled sob. "No, no, no, no, no." He moved forward and knelt at Castiel's head. "Cas, wake up!" he demanded.

Tears dripped down Sam's face onto Castiel's coat, leaving small droplets on the fabric. From the shoulders up, Castiel merely looked as if he was sleeping. It was below that the damage was obvious. Black goo soaked the fabric of the coat and oozed down to the ground.

There was a fluttering sound, and then a sharp indrawn breath. "What happened?"

No one was able to answer Lucifer; they were too consumed by their grief.

Lucifer knelt next to Sam and laid his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam turned and threw himself into his arms, tears streaming down his face. They had a second to embrace before Sam was shoved away. Lucifer got to his feet, towering in his anger, but Dean didn't care. All that matter was that his friend was dead and this was the one man that held even a sliver of hope for his resurrection.

He gripped Lucifer's shirt. "Fix him! Now!"

His words seemed to reach Sam and Bobby and they turned their eyes from the corpse between them and looked at Lucifer.

"Can you do it?" Sam asked hopefully.

Lucifer breathed out a heaving breath. "I don't know."

Dean shook his head jerkily. "Raphael said it. He thought you were the one that brought Castiel back last time. So do it! Fix him!"

"Please, Lucifer," Sam said, choking on his words, "please try."

Lucifer looked into his pained lover's eyes and nodded. "I will try. Step back."

Sam and Bobby scrambled to their feet and stepped back. Dean didn't seem able to obey, so Sam took his arm and tugged him back gently.

"Cover your eyes," Lucifer said, kneeling beside Castiel.

Though they all obeyed, they couldn't protect themselves from the piercing white light that spread around Castiel and Lucifer. There was an indescribable high-pitched noise, like light made voluble, and then a gasp.

Their eyes snapped open and they saw Castiel sitting up and drawing heaving breaths. Lucifer supported him with a hand at his back and he spoke softly in enochian to Castiel. The only one among the three that understood it was Sam, and he knew that Lucifer was calming Castiel.

"Cas?" Dean asked doubtfully.

Castiel looked up at him and nodded. With Lucifer's help, he eased himself to his feet and wiped a hand down his blood-soaked front.

Sam choked a sob, and Lucifer stood and took his into his arms. They whispered to one another, each comforting the other.

"You okay, Cas?" Bobby asked tentatively.

Castiel nodded and stepped closer to his friend. "I am well." He raised a hand and gently swept it over the gash at Bobby's temple. The cut disappeared.

"What did you…? How did you…?" Bobby was rendered incomprehensible.

Castiel smiled. "I believe I have been brought back better than ever before."

He looked at Lucifer who nodded. "Welcome back, brother."

Dean had watched the interaction in silence, trying to wrap his mind around what he had just seen. It wasn't easy; his every instinct shouted that Castiel was dead. On leaden feet, he stepped forward and reached out a hand to touch Castiel's shoulder. Castiel smiled at him knowingly, and held out a hand to Dean. Dean wasn't satisfied with a handshake. He threw his arms around Castiel and gripped the back of his coat. Embarrassed, they broke apart and Dean gripped Castiel's collar. "Cas, man, don't ever do that again."

Castiel smiled. "I will do my best."

Bobby cleared his throat. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I could do with a drink."

"I was wondering, Castiel, if you felt up to a trip home?" Lucifer said.

Castiel's eyes widened. "Heaven?"

Lucifer nodded. "Only if you feel ready."

Castiel nodded energetically. "I am ready."

Lucifer pressed a kiss to Sam's temple and then there was a rustling sound as Lucifer and Castiel disappeared.

They watched the place they had been for a moment, as if waiting for them to appear as fast as they had vanished, but no one came to join them.

Bobby retrieved his baseball cap from by the car where it had fallen and put it back on. "So, how's about a drink?"

Dean shook his head. "I'll be right back. I just need a minute."

Sam nodded his understanding. He knew that his brother needed solitude to come to terms with what had just happened. He wasn't one to vent his emotions in company.

They watched Dean disappear around a stack of junkers and then headed back into the house.


Bobby set a bottle of beer down on the table in front of Sam and then took a seat opposite.

"You okay?" he asked.

Sam shook his head. "Not even remotely. That was something else, Bobby."

"It was Cas," Bobby said.

"Exactly. It was Cas. I knew the leviathans could kill angels, but I never imagined it would be Cas. He's the only one I didn't worry about. He's supposed to be forever, and we nearly lost him."

Bobby stared down at his beer. "It was a shock to all of us. Poor Cas. That's the second time he's been shot down only to be dragged back. It's got to be wearing on him." He gave Sam a covert look. "You can relate, I bet."

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I guess."

Bobby gazed at him and Sam avoided his eye. He didn't want to talk about this. Unfortunately, Bobby either didn't sense that or he didn't care. "So, what is it like, being brought back?"

Sam sighed heavily. "It's different," he said evasively and when Bobby nodded, he went on. "When Jake killed me, back in Cold Oak, I don't know what happened to me after I died. I don't remember anything between seeing Dean running towards me and then waking up in the cabin. After I was shot…" He raised his head to look at Bobby in the eye. "It was harder. I remembered."

"And what do you remember?" Bobby leaned forward in his seat, his curiosity overpowering.

"Heaven."

Bobby blew out a breath between his teeth. He seemed to be struggling against something, as if he wanted to know more but was scared to ask.

Sam gritted his teeth and continued. "It was perfect. The most peaceful place I had ever known then. There was none of the pain or trouble or guilt that I was feeling alive."

Bobby looked sad. "And then you came back."

"Then I came back, and everything was painful and overwhelming again."

"Do you think it was the same for Cas?" Bobby asked.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. Who knows where angels go when they die? I like to think they have their own heaven, somewhere they get to rest, but I don't know. I guess we could ask him."

"Do you regret it?" Bobby asked quietly. "Coming back?"

Sam shook his head. "Never. I would never have known Lucifer's love if I hadn't come back. I would have left Dean feeling immeasurable guilt for what happened. It was the right thing for me to come back then."

"It was the right thing to come back then," Bobby said. "What about this time? Do you regret coming out of the cage?"

Sam grimaced. "No, I was thinking of Cold Oak. If I hadn't come back that time, if Dean hadn't made the deal, the world would have been better off."

"Maybe," Bobby said. "But it wouldn't have been a better place for the rest of us left behind."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "The apocalypse was a good thing?"

"No," Bobby said and then sighed. "You made a lot of mistakes, but you did a lot of good, too. Sam, you tamed Lucifer. Hell, you saved the world. Besides, imagine what would have become of your brother if he hadn't made that deal." Sam opened his mouth to object but Bobby spoke over him. "See what happened to him when you followed Lucifer into the cage. Imagine years of that. Think of the damage he could have done."

"It wasn't his fault," Sam said defensively. "I did that to him."

Bobby raised his hands. "I'm not blaming him. I'm not blaming either of you. You had to be with Lucifer, I understand that, and Dean had to go off on his own. If I blame anyone, it's me. I should have seen what you were going to do and I should have kept Dean here."

"If you'd know what I was going to do, would you have tried to stop me?"

Bobby considered for a moment and then shook his head. "No, but I would have made sure you went about it different. I'd have made sure you spoke to Dean first."

Guilt twisted Sam's stomach. If he'd spoken to Dean, made sure he was okay first, things might have turned out differently. Dean might not have gone on his two-year rampage.

Bobby took a swig of his beer and looked at Sam curiously. "What you thinking?"

"I'm thinking it's my fault. Our last hunt was Rhode Island…"

Bobby set his beer down and watched Sam as he ran his finger through the condensation pooled on the tabletop. "Rhode Island. Dean told you?"

"No, Raphael did. When we were in that prison and Raphael was… hurting me, she told me all about Dean's time alone. She seemed to enjoy it."

Bobby cursed. "I bet she did. So you know it all."

"I know more than I wanted to," Sam said. "This last hunt was an Arachne again. Dean made a mistake last time. The victims didn't die; they were changed. One of them came back after Dean and we had to take it out." He looked at a spot an inch above Bobby's head. "He had a wife."

Bobby's eyes widened and Sam knew he understood. Dean had made a woman a widow.

"He thought he was doing the right thing," Sam said. "It was a mistake."

"No judgment here. I know he did."

Sam drained his beer and set it down. "It's my fault Bobby. That woman and her husband, it's all because of what I did."

"And the Arachne was innocent?"

Sam looked up and saw Bobby was smiling.

"The way I see it, you blame yourself, and Dean blames himself, and neither of you are seeing the truth. You did what you had to do, and Dean did what he had to do. Everything that happened after that was supposed to happen." He shrugged. "You couldn't have known what would happen."

Sam was about to argue against, but at that moment, the door swung open and Dean stepped inside. His eyes were red, confirming Sam's theory that he had wanted time alone to process what had happened, but he was composed.

"Awesome, beer!" Dean said, crossing the room and snagged three from the fridge. He handed one to Sam and Bobby each, and then sat down at the table. He looked from Sam to Bobby and asked, "What did I interrupt?"

Sam forced a smile. "Nothing important. Bobby was about to tell me about his last hunt."

"Yeah, I was." Bobby filled them in on the Portland hunt that started with a dead ballerina and ended with dead leviathans.

"So this Borax stuff," Sam said. "It hurts them?"

"Damn near burned the guy's face off," Bobby said. "I say we stock up."

Sam nodded but Dean was frowning. "So, leviathans, creatures that predate angels, can be hurt something that housewives clean their floor with? You know that makes no sense right?"

Bobby chuckled. "You make a good point, but the stuff works. I figure we should just be grateful and go shopping."

"I guess so," Dean said doubtfully.

"You said one was helping you," Sam said. "What's the deal there?"

"He wanted to eat his boss," Bobby said. "We put the nix on that and chopped off its head. Not before we interrogated it a little."

"Find out anything good?" Dean asked.

"You could say that," Bobby said. "Apparently, according to this guy George anyway, Dick's master plan is to cure cancer."

"Why the hell would they do that?" Dean asked.

"Don't know, but I guess we have to find out," Bobby said. "They can't be doing it out of the goodness of their heart."

Dean leaned back in his chair and cracked his knuckles. "I wanted to kill them all before, but after what they did to Cas and this screwy news about curing cancer, I say we make killing Dick our top priority."

Sam and Bobby nodded their agreement, though neither of them had any idea of how to do it.


So… Cas is back and he's fully powered again. That'll come in handy.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx