Squishy hugs to Gredelina1 for beta'ing and to SandraEngstrom2 for all the help outlining. Thanks also to all of you that reviewed the first chapter. I really appreciate the support.

Chapter Two

Dean didn't know how long he stayed like that, crying and calling to a brother that couldn't reply, but eventually the numbness faded and the burn of anger and pain replaced it. He turned slowly and fixed his eyes on Rowena, ignoring her son completely. "Get him out," he said slowly, carefully, menacingly.

Though it was Rowena he'd addressed, it was Crowley that answered. "No."

"What?"

"No can do, Squirrel."

"Get him out!" Dean shouted.

Crowley shook his head. "We can't."

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I get that it's dangerous—"

"Suicidal more like," Crowley interjected.

"—but that is my brother in there."

"It's not happening," Crowley said.

Dean turned away from him and fixed his desperate gaze on Rowena. "Help me."

"You know I would…" she said, "but Fergus here has promised me a slow, painful death if I do."

"It's Sam," Dean said, careful to keep his tone even.

"I know, and I know what a twisty turny codependency thing the pair of you have—Fergus lent me some dear wee books—but I can't do it."

Dean grimaced. "Please."

"Oh, please?" Crowley said. "That's a completely different matter. I didn't realize you were going to say please. Go ahead, mother, end the world again because he said please."

"Hush, Fergus." Rowena slapped his arm. "I would love to be the one to bring the Dark Prince back into the world"—she shivered a little at the name—"but I have limits. Almighty leader of the Mega Coven I might be, I am still human."

"Mega Coven?" Crowley scoffed. "That's the daftest name I've heard since brainless over there dubbed him and his screwy family Team Free Will."

Rowena and Dean both ignored him. "You're saying you can't?" Dean asked.

"I'm saying I would be stupid to try. There's a chance Lucifer would be grateful, I suppose, and he might even let me live, but there's a good chance he won't." She glanced at Crowley. "And I think he's serious about the slow and painful part."

Crowley nodded. "I am."

Dean shook his head and turned back to the cage. "What do I do?"

"I suggest you find another hapless woman to bed down with," Crowley said smugly. "Maybe she'll have a son you can pretend is yours. Just because it didn't work out last time…"

"It didn't?" Rowena asked.

Crowley grinned. "Had his pet angel wipe her memory like an Etch-a-Sketch." Anger roiled in Dean and he started toward the demon, poised to attack. Crowley wasn't done, however. "Face it, Dean. You lost Lisa. You lost Ben. And now you've lost Sam. You need to carve out a new life alone, because like it or not, he's not coming back this time."

Dean had no clear memory of leaving Hell past lurching toward Crowley while Rowena clucked sympathetically and insincerely beside him. Perhaps he'd been knocked out by Crowley to make manhandling him easier. Perhaps Rowena had done some witchy hoodoo to make him forget. Perhaps his mind was just too full of the agony of Sam to let him think of anything else. One moment he was there, ready to kill, and the next he was behind the wheel of the Impala, powering along the interstate. He gasped and the car swerved into the wrong lane for a second before he took control again. He corrected and ignored the people leaning on their horns in protest at his driving.

He had no idea where he was and could see nothing familiar, so he decided his next course of action had to be getting his bearings. Simple tasks were the key. He needed to know where he was so he could get back to the bunker. That was simple. When he was there he'd have the wealth of all knowledge the Men of Letters ever accumulated. He could attack the stacks and find out all there was to know about Lucifer and the cage. He would find a way to get Sam out on his own. Not so simple maybe, but he would do it. He had to.

Getting his bearings turned out to be easier than he had thought. A few minutes down the road he realized he was on the Lebanon road. He had apparently made it almost all the way home. He wasn't sure whether he should be shocked or grateful that he had driven so far without being aware of it. Having a direction now helped. He sped slightly and took the turn that would lead him to the bunker.

Though it was hardly the first time he had gone into the bunker knowing Sam wouldn't be waiting on the other side of the door for him, he still felt a pang of pain as he entered and saw the cavernous room empty and quiet.

His footsteps echoed as he walked down the stairs. He wished for noise: Kevin's voice shouting about the pizza getting cold. Charlie's blind happiness at them all being together, no matter the circumstances. And Sam. The silent communication that would pass between them as their words spoken aloud were casual. Most of their concern and care was nonverbal. Only injury and death making them open up and really talk about how they felt. It was so messed up. When he got Sam back, he would say all the things he usually communicated in a glance—I'm glad you're okay. I worry for you. I care.

He would say it all and more just as soon as he got his brother back.

There was a clock on the wall of the library in the bunker. It had always annoyed Dean. It ticked too loud and when the hour came round it chimed. Dean hated it. Sam loved it. It reminded him of some college or childhood memory that he would never tell Dean about, which probably meant Dean would have made fun of it. Dean threatened to shoot it off the wall so many times it was now a joke between them.

Its ticking was driving Dean insane.

He didn't even realize he was going to do it. One moment he was bent over a book on Angel lore, wishing the damn thing would shut up already, and the next his gun was pointed at the wall and the clock was in pieces on the floor.

"Dean! Sam!" A voice shouted from what seemed like a long distance away. Dean barely heard it.

He walked towards the fragments of the clock and bent to pick up a jagged shard of the glass face.

"What are you doing?" Castiel's confused voice came from behind him.

Dean straightened and turned to face him, his hands fisting. He felt the sharp sting and then the warmth as the glass cut into his palm and the blood flowed.

"Dean!" Castiel lifted his palm and uncurled his fingers from around the glass shard. The blood flowed faster for a moment, and then Castiel ran his hand over the cut and it was healed.

"Cas," Dean said quietly. "What are you doing here?"

Castiel look at him unbelievingly. "What happened to you?"

"Sam," Dean said mournfully.

Castiel looked worried. "Where is he?"

Dean turned away. He couldn't bear to say it. He didn't want to make it real.

Castiel took his shoulders and shook him roughly. "Dean! Where is Sam?"

"Gone."

"Gone where? Has he left again?"

If only. That would have been better, for Sam to have left him behind because he was pissed about something. Dean could have made it better. He could have found Sam and apologized. He'd have sat him down and made him listen and he would have said sorry until his throat was raw if that was what it took to make it right again.

"He's…" Dean swallowed down the nausea, took a breath, and forced out the words, "with Lucifer."

Castiel took a step back. "What?"

"In the cage. Not the cage, I don't think. Just a cage. But Lucifer is there. He's trapped. We messed up."

He chanced a glance at Castiel and saw the horror dawn in his eyes. "No! How? Why?"

"Sammy's been praying. The first time was in that hospital just after the Darkness was released, and he had a… vision, I guess. It was kinda crazy. He's been praying more and seeing more ever since. He sees Hell. His Hell. He thinks it's God."

"God is talking to Sam?"

"He thinks so. I don't think it can be though, as I don't see what good it would do for him to be back in the Cage. We thought it was the only way. He thought God was telling him Lucifer was the answer to the Darkness, so I… I backed his play, Cas. We went to Rowena, and I don't know how it happened, but somehow he's in there again."

"You went to Lucifer," Castiel growled. "You went to Lucifer!"

Dean bowed his head. When it was said aloud, it sounded as insane as it really was. But when Sam was talking to him, so earnest, saying this was what God wanted him to do, Dean had started to believe, too. They were desperate.

Suddenly, Castiel's hands were fisted in Dean's shirt and he was shaking him. "You idiotic, independent, stubborn… Why didn't you tell me?"

"You'd have tried to stop us."

"You should have been stopped!" Castiel shouted.

Dean's own anger came to his defense and he shoved Castiel away. "You should have been here! Why weren't you here?"

"Because I was trying to stop others in my family doing idiotic things! The angels got it into their heads that they could actually pose a threat to The Darkness if they were to attack en masse. I was trying to stop them."

Dean didn't even ask if it had worked. He was past caring about The Darkness. His brother was in Hell. There was nothing worse than that.

"You should have been here," Dean said again, eyes fixed on his feet. He knew he was being unfair. Castiel could have had no idea what they were planning. He possibly couldn't even have stopped them if he had known. Dean had never liked the plan, but he'd gone along with it, hadn't he? He had let Sam call the shots.

Castiel drew a breath and then he asked in a measured voice, "What exactly happened?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "I wasn't there."

"You weren't… Why weren't you there?"

"We got a clue on Amara, so I went after it while Sam stayed with Rowena and Crowley. And then, when Sam called, I was… distracted. I thought it would be okay. I never thought he would do it without me. I'd told him not to."

"You told him not to?" Castiel scoffed. "This is Sam, Dean. Did you really think it would make a difference that you told him to wait? And what did you even think would happen if you did find Amara?"

"She was killing people, Cas!"

"I am aware. What I want to know is what you thought you could do about it."

Dean had no answer to give. He hadn't known it was Amara when he'd followed the lead to the church, but they'd both thought it was. He hadn't had a weapon, and yet he'd known he had to see her anyway. And then, when Sam had called, he'd ignored it, and then he'd kissed her. Had Sam already been in Hell when that happened? Had Sam been trapped with Lucifer when Dean had been kissing The Darkness?

He retched.

The show of weakness seemed to steal Castiel's anger. He sighed heavily and laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, gently this time. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"What am I going to do?" Dean asked in a moan.

"We are going to find a way to get him out of Hell," Castiel said simply.

"Can you do it?" Dean asked. "I mean you did last time."

"I cannot. Last time I had the full power of Heaven behind me. I had my wings. I do not have that anymore," he said apologetically. "We will find a way though."

Dean looked up at him, desperation in his eyes "We have to do it fast, Cas. His soul…"

Castiel nodded and Dean knew he understood. Castiel had taken the experience of Hell from Sam, but he hadn't taken the damage. Sam's soul was already close to ruined. How long could it sustain in the cage with Lucifer again?

"We will," Castiel said with certainty. "We will find a way." His voice became a whisper Dean wasn't sure he was supposed to hear. "We have to."

So… I know there wasn't any plot progression in this one but these are things I felt needed to happen. I will get to the plotting and planning next time.

I did intend to have some Sam/Lucifer time in this chapter, but it just didn't feel right. It's partially written though, so it might find a place in the story later.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx