Thank you Jenjoremy for beta'ing and Gredelina1 for helping me to get this chapter written. Thank you all for supporting the story with reviews, faves and alerts.

Chapter Nine

Sam was suffering. His head was pounding with pain to the rhythm of his heart and his eyes burned with tears, but the very worst thing was the pain of feeling Dean's arm around him and hearing his words of comfort, knowing it wouldn't last. It couldn't last. Dean would have to know soon what he had done to himself and the world, and that would destroy this closeness they had now.

Another tear slid down his cheek and another sob broke from him which Dean shushed, his arm over Sam's shoulders, comfort and shame combined.

"We should leave," Cas said. "The humans will come to check on you soon and it would be easier if we weren't here."

Sam sniffed and took a deep breath. "Yeah, you're right."

He tugged the IV out of his hand and peeled away the electrodes on his chest then pushed back the blankets from his legs and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He was shirtless, and he hoped his clothes had been removed rather than cut away. Dean rooted in a locker beside the bed and handed him the shirt he had been wearing that day, or was it days ago? He wasn't sure anymore. He pulled it on and buttoned it with shaking fingers then attempted to stand. His legs didn't seem to want to support him, and Dean hurried around the bed to brace an arm under his shoulder to hold him. Again, the touch made Sam feel worse than he already did. How long would it be before Dean cringed away from him? Not long enough, that was for sure.

"Do you wish to collect the car?" Cas asked. "I can take Sam straight back to Bobby's."

Dean glanced at Sam and then shook his head. "No. I'll come pick her up later."

Sam knew Dean didn't want to leave him alone with Cas, who he didn't yet trust, and he appreciated it, but part of him wished Dean had made a different choice. If he had chosen to collect the Impala, Sam would have had a few hours stay of execution.

"Very well," Cas said.

There was a strange feeling of weightlessness that even after all this time Sam wasn't comfortable with, and then they were in Bobby's library. Sam staggered over to the couch under the window and sat down, barely hearing Bobby's hushed exclamation of his name and worried questions.

Dean tucked a battered pillow behind him and then pushed him back gently to lean on it. Sam sank back with a feeling of something akin to relief. His body didn't seem like it wanted to support him, and he was grateful for Dean's help, even though he knew he didn't deserve it. That feeling increased when Dean sat down beside him, so close their shoulders were brushing.

"You okay, Sam?" Bobby asked.

Sam nodded slowly. "I'm fine."

Dean snorted. "Sure you are."

They didn't understand. He was okay. He might be in pain and feeling weaker than he had in a long time, but he was with people he loved and who loved him. They weren't looking at him with fury or disgust as they would be soon, and that was enough for Sam to feel good.

Bobby turned his attention to Cas. "Okay, that's one question taken care of, now I have another. What the hell is your part in all this? I saw Anna send you packing, and according to Dean that lasts a couple hours, yet you were back in five minutes. You seemed to have a mighty big change of heart between visits, too. One moment you're gunning for Anna like she broke the Ten Commandments and the next you're telling her she's an angel and dropping some kind of angelic A-Bomb on the floor."

"I was not the same person on both occasions," Cas said.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "So there's two of you?"

"In a way, yes, just as there are two Sams."

Sam felt Dean's shoulder muscles bunch beside him and he watched as Dean slowly turned to the side to look at him. "What's he talking about, Sammy?"

Sam smiled at the nickname and then his features became serious as he tried to explain. "It's not quite the same. There are two physical Castiels. There's only one of me, but there's two parts."

"Not exactly making anything clearer there, Sam," Bobby said.

Sam sighed heavily. "Cas, the Castiel you're looking at, is from three years ahead of now. Me, I'm here physically, this is my body of now, but the soul inside is three years older, too."

He averted his eyes from Dean, but he could still feel his gaze on him.

"Okay," Bobby said slowly. "So, uh, why are you here? I mean, what's the deal with the return trip? You reliving the greatest hits?"

Sam laughed softly. "Not exactly."

"Didn't think so," Bobby said. "This year sure as hell doesn't make the cut so far."

"Then what are you doing here?" Dean asked seriously.

Sam didn't know how to answer. Whatever he said now would be the first step in tearing him apart from two of the only people left in the world that he loved, and he was afraid of losing them. Coward that he was, he wished for just a few more days, even a few more hours, before he had to do that. There was no more time though. He could feel the withdrawal coming, curling its ironclad fist around him, taking what time he had. He had apparently spent all the demon blood he had when he killed Alastair. Soon, he would be shaking and screaming in the panic room.

"We came to repair the past," Cas said when it became obvious that Sam wasn't going to answer. "Things in our time are… damaged. We are facing foes that cannot be beaten through our usual methods, and we needed to avert them before I was forced to do something that could go terribly wrong."

"So this is your fault?" Dean asked. "You screwed up and Sam's been bounced back to clean up your mess?"

Sam shook his head, knowing it was time to speak up but afraid of what he would have to say. He looked at Cas who nodded slightly in encouragement. "No, Dean," he said. "This is all down to my screw up."

"What do you mean?"

Sam took a deep breath, wondering where and even how to begin, and then he faltered. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

"First, let me explain what happened to Sam," Cas said. "Sam killed Alastair."

"Yeah, that I remember," Dean said a little bitterly.

Cas spoke over him. "And in doing so, he put tremendous strain on the wall within his mind."

Dean scowled at him. "Wait…What wall?"

"It was blocking my memories of Hell," Sam said quietly, almost as if he didn't want to be heard. "In my time, where we come from, I've been to Hell."

Dean gasped. "Hell?"

"Not just Hell," Cas clarified. "The Cage."

"Lucifer's cage?" Bobby asked. "The thing we're supposed to be fighting to keep closed while the demons go cracking seals?"

Sam nodded and spoke in a low voice. "It happened. In our time, the apocalypse almost happened. It was my fault; I started it, and so I had to stop it." He couldn't bear to say anymore. He hadn't given them enough to understand fully, but he had admitted his culpability. That should have made him feel better, but it didn't. He still felt sick with guilt.

"Stop it how?" Dean asked. Sam noted the fact he disregarded Sam's admission, probably not believing it was true. His faith in Sam was painful to bear, though it was something he'd been striving for most of his life.

"Sam was Lucifer's vessel," Cas said, "his one true instrument for the end of the world. When the time came, he allowed Lucifer entry and then overpowered him and dragged him back into the cage. Incidentally, he also took Michael. He trapped himself inside the cage with two angry archangels for almost two centuries."

"No," Dean said, and inexplicably he was almost laughing. "There's no way Sam'd do that."

"You underestimate your brother," Cas said a little stiffly.

"I don't," Dean argued. ""If anyone can beat the Devil, it's Sam; I'm not doubting that. What I'm saying is that there's no way Sam would be able to take Satan to the cage because there's no way I'd have let him get that damn close in the first place."

"Dean, you gave Sam your blessing," Cas said somberly.

"You're saying it wrong, Cas," Sam said and then turned his attention to Dean. "It wasn't like you wanted me to do it, Dean. It went against everything for you. But it happened. I took Lucifer down, and you didn't try to stop me."

"No," Dean said again, still sounding amused. "I don't know what you're trying to prove here, but there's no way I let that happen."

Cas shrugged. "Believe it or not, that's your choice, but it happened. What matters is what happened to Sam in that time. He was trapped with Lucifer and Michael and they vented their frustration on him every moment he was there. The torture was almost more than you can imagine, and he was greatly damaged. The wall was created within his mind to protect him from those memories. It is those memories that rendered Sam unconscious when he killed Alastair, and they are what's torturing him now."

Dean looked at Sam as if searching for a sign of this damage. Sam looked away, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "It's true, Dean," he breathed. "It happened."

"Okay," Dean said slowly. "Say I believe it, I let Sam do that, why the hell was he there so damn long? There's no way I'd have let him stay there. What the hell was I doing while Sam was suffering?"

Sam caught Cas 's gaze and shook his head slightly. Dean didn't need to know about Lisa.

"I wasn't there all the time," Sam said. "Not physically. Cas pulled me out only a little while after I took the dive, but it turned out that he didn't get all of me. My soul kinda got left behind. That's why the damage is so bad."

Bobby, who had been quiet up to this point, spoke. "What does this damage mean?"

"It's not so bad," Sam said quickly to reassure them both. "I mean, I remember it all, all that… stuff… but it's not like it physically hurts me anymore."

Bobby blew out a breath and shook his head. "What about mentally?"

There were no words to describe it. Sam couldn't make them understand how it felt to have those recollections bouncing around his mind. It was torture, plain and simple. It made him want to curl up in a ball and hide from the world, but he couldn't. "It's not so bad," he lied.

Bobby looked like he wanted to ask more, but Cas took pity on Sam and spoke up. "The fact is, Sam damaged himself to save the world, and you need to bear than in mind when hearing the rest of our story."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine. Tell us the rest. Tell me what was so bad that I'd let my little brother sacrifice himself."

"The apocalypse," Sam said again. "The battle. Lucifer walked free because of what I did, and I'm not making excuses, but it was because the angels wanted it, too. There was supposed to be a battle between Michael and Lucifer that was foretold long ago. The angels"—he smiled at Cas —"most of them at least, wanted it. Everyone seemed to think Michael would have won, beaten Lucifer, but they didn't know he had a backup plan. Lucifer was going to release the Croatoan virus and ruin humanity."

Dean sucked in a breath. "You mean for real end of the world?"

Sam nodded. "Yes. Do you see now? Why I had to do it and why you had to let me?"

Dean looked into his eyes for a long time and then nodded slowly. "I guess."

Sam smiled slightly. "It had to be done."

"Okay," Bobby said clapping his hands together. "So you two came back to stop it. That's great and all, but what exactly do we do? 'Cause we've been doing our damndest to stop it already, and apparently we're going to fail."

Sam and Cas exchanged and glance and Sam cleared his throat. "It's me. I did it. Lilith was the final seal, and I killed her."

"What do you mean she was the final seal?" Dean asked tensely. "You mean she was breaking it, right?"

"No. I mean her death was the final seal. When I killed her, I kicked it all into action. Lucifer was freed and the world went to the toilet from there." He looked at Dean. "I almost ended the world."

He had been expecting it for a long time, since his story began, but when Dean lurched to his feet and walked away from him, Sam felt it like a sucker punch to the chest. It was right that Dean was moving away from him, it was fair, but Sam had needed that closeness to get him through the worst of his story. How was he supposed to tell the rest, to tear apart that tenuous bond between him and Dean?"

Dean's jaw tightened. "And what was I doing while you were off killing Lilith?"

"You were trying to stop me," Sam admitted.

"No," Cas disagreed. "You were being held by the angels. There was nothing you could have done."

"That's not true," Sam argued. "When it mattered, he was free. He was at the convent in time to stop me if only I'd listened. If I hadn't been so hopped up on the blood that I didn't care about anything but revenge..."

"Blood?" Bobby said. "What's blood got to do with anything?"

Sam swallowed reflexively, fighting back the nausea born of nerves and impending withdrawal.

"Sammy?" Dean said quietly, staring down at him.

"I… I've been drinking demon blood," Sam said so quietly he was amazed they heard him. As the confession worked out of him, he gained courage. This was his mistake and he would admit it. "Ruby's blood. I've been drinking it to fuel my powers."

Bobby's face reddened as he reacted, and Dean's paled. When neither of them spoke, Sam rambled on to fill the awful silence.

"Since a couple months after Dean went to hell until a few days ago. It gives me the strength to exorcise and kill the demons. It does something to me, makes me stronger, powerful."

He should have expected it. He shouldn't have expected Dean to take it as calmly as he had last time, tricking Sam into the panic room with barely a word. If he'd been paying attention to anything but his own clasped hands, he would have seen the punch coming. He wouldn't have defended himself—how could he?—but he would have looked Dean in the eye as the punch landed on his temple, sending him into blessed, merciful unconsciousness again.

Cas caught Sam as he pitched forward in the wake of Dean's blow. He eased him back against the pillow Dean had positioned at his back and glanced over him. He was out cold, but there was no damage that hadn't already been there.

Satisfied Sam was at least close to being okay, he turned and glared at Dean. "Do you feel better now?"

Dean was massaging his red knuckles. He returned Cas's glare with force. "He deserved it."

"That's not what I asked," Cas said.

"No," he admitted. "It didn't make me feel better. That's probably 'cause there is nothing that can make me feel better about Sam turning himself into some kind of vampire junkie."

Cas noted the use of Sam's given name. When emotional, Dean usually referred to him as his brother, as if staking a claim made things easier for whomever he was talking with to understand the stakes. It felt to Cas that he was casting aside that claim with the name. Cas was glad Sam wasn't conscious to make the same connection. He was already suffering enough, and he would soon be suffering more.

The problem was that Dean's anger was directed at the wrong version of his brother. The one of this time, the Sam who was full of intoxication and arrogance at his abilities, needed the punch. He needed to see the anger and the accusations to bring him from this path. The Sam Dean was angry with now, however, was not that person. He was the one who already knew what a huge mistake he was making but did it anyway for the greater good. He was the Sam who had paid his dues by spending over a century in the Cage, who had gone there willingly for the world. The other Sam was not accessible at the moment though. He was held within Sam, inferior to the soul of the future, damaged but full of knowledge and strength. The Sam of this time hadn't yet had the experiences that had strengthened him to that extent.

Sam would soon be waking, Cas knew, and before he did, there were things he needed to say and do. He looked at Bobby, sensing he would be the better of the two choices for this conversation but not doubting Dean would make himself heard, too.

"Bobby, there are decisions to be made," he said. "Sam is going to start the withdrawal process soon, and the very best place for him is here, more specifically in the panic room, but if you cannot bear his presence, I'll take him somewhere else for the process. Would you object to us remaining here?"

Bobby didn't even take a moment to consider his answer. "He's staying."

"Thank you," Cas replied.

"Why the panic room though?" Bobby asked. "Is he going to try to escape to get more?"

"No," Cas said, no trace of doubt in his tone. "This Sam will not."

Dean looked a little confused. "This Sam? How is he any different than the Sam that's supposed to be here? How do you know he's not jonesing for his next swig of demon bitch blood already?"

"I have no doubt he is. He will not act on that need though. He knows better." Cas tried to find a way to explain his earlier thoughts about the two versions of Sam. "Essentially, the Sam you see before you now is a stranger to you. He has lived through events and years that have changed him from the man you know now. We intervened at the point of Samhain's raising. That is when Sam became a different person."

"Is that supposed to be a defense?" Dean asked. "Because Sam said he took his last swig a few days ago, and that was long after Samhain. If he's so different, why the hell was he drinking the damned stuff still?"

Cas thought this was a conversation that Sam and Dean should have alone, but at the same time he thought it might broker some understanding from Dean, so he said, "Because of you, Dean."

"Me!" Dean's eyes were wide with incredulity.

"Yes, you. Sam knew that Alastair was going to come, and he wanted to be strong enough to kill him. I sincerely believe that is because of you. When we lived through these years last time, Sam harbored immense hate for that demon because of what he did to you. I am sure that, knowing his chance was approaching, Sam made a conscious decision to drink again in order to kill him."

Dean's eyes were wary and angry, a contradiction to the emotion Cas expected from him given his explanation. He had hoped it would soften Dean at least a little. Then Dean spoke and he understood.

"What Alastair did to me? What does Sam know about that?"

Cas looked at him sympathetically. "He knows everything. You were a lot more open with Sam last time. The things you suffered and did are known to him." He looked pointedly at Bobby. "And others."

For a moment, Dean looked like he wanted to vomit. He swallowed hard though, pushing down the emotion and desire, and nodded. "Fine. Sam knows what happened in the pit, and I get that he wanted to kill Alastair, but that's no excuse for him starting on the blood in the first place."

"No," Cas said. "It isn't, and I cannot make excuses for that. It is a conversation you need to have with Sam when he is able. He has a story to tell. I don't think he will attempt to excuse himself, not now, but he will explain."

Bobby cleared his throat and their eyes snapped to him. Cas could see the confusion and questions in his face and knew Dean was going to suffer through an interrogation at some point soon, but for now he only said, "This withdrawal, if we're not locking him down to keep him from running, what are we locking him down for?"

"For dual reasons," Cas said. "One, because it is protected from demons, and I have no doubt that when Lilith learns of his current predicament, she will send her lieutenant to undo all the good we're attempting to do by freeing Sam and taking him away where he can be manipulated or forced in to imbibing the blood. The second reason is that I thought it would be easier for you both. If he is to remain here, as I believed you would prefer, he would be less… disruptive in the panic room."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "Disruptive?"

Cas sighed. "Sam is going to be very unwell in the coming days. Compare heroin withdrawal with a caffeine addict denied coffee and you will get a vague idea. Sam will suffer. He will hallucinate and have psychic seizures that will propel him around the room. He will scream and shout and beg." Cas shrugged, not impassive but at a loss for a way to adequately explain what was coming. "Sam is going to go through hell. I didn't think you would want a front row seat to that knowing there isn't a single thing we can do to help him."

Sam groaned and stirred. Dean's narrowed eyes fell on him and he said, "Okay. Stranger or not, reformed or whatever the hell you want to call it, I can't face him right now knowing what he's done. I'm going to go pick up the car."

Cas nodded. He had expected as much. He only hoped that Dean would use the time away to work through some of his anger, because by the time he returned, Sam was going to be in no state to deal with it. Or perhaps he would be so battered and bruised by the withdrawal that he wouldn't even notice it. Cas hated himself a little for hoping that would be the case.

Sam's eyes opened just as Dean slammed the door behind him on his way out. Sam blinked blearily and brought a hand up to his head. He looked around and his eyes fell on Bobby for a moment before he fixed his gaze on his knees.

"How are you feeling?" Cas asked solicitously.

Sam shook his head without looking up. "It's coming on now. I guess it's time for us to get out of here."

"You're not going anywhere!" Bobby said. His harsh tone softened somewhat when he continued. "You're better off here where we can take care of you."

Sam looked up at him, clearly startled. "You don't have to do that, Bobby. Cas can take me somewhere else."

"I bet he can. He can zap you off God knows where and we'll never see you again if he gets a mind to."

"I would never…" Cas started, but Bobby spoke over him.

"I don't know you. Sam might, but the Castiel I've had contact with so far has had the boys jumping through hoops while giving them no real answers. Not to mention the fact that you knocked me out first time we met. You got Dean back, and we owe you for that, I'm not forgetting, but I don't trust you. You might be Cas rather than Castiel, whatever the hell that means, but it's going to take more than a hour's talking for me to believe you're on our side when Sam himself said the angels wanted the apocalypse, especially when you're sporting a halo, too."

Cas understood Bobby's perspective—he didn't know him, they had never fought together—but it rankled. "Fine," he said curtly. "Don't trust me, but you must do one thing for me; do not trust me in this time either. The Castiel you have met before now cannot be trusted. He is still a loyal son and will not stand with you… yet. A time will come when he will, but it is not that time."

Bobby snorted. "No problem. I distrust most people on sight anyway, angels are no exception."

Cas was satisfied. He didn't know what the angels would do when they learned that Sam was coming off of the blood already, but he thought they would act swiftly in one direction or the other. Sam was their one hope at freeing Lucifer. Last time, he had been sent to free Sam from the panic room, and Sam and Ruby had done the rest. This time Cas was sure Sam would remain in the panic room even if he was shown a means of escape, but they had to be careful regardless. He had originally thought that the demons were the greatest risk to their plan, but now he realized that the angels were just as much a problem if not more. He would have to be exceptionally careful and observant in the future.

"If we're staying, I better get down there," Sam said. "Things are getting a little… hard."

Cas could see that. He was not yet sweating and wracked with tremors, but his hands were slightly shaky where they were clasped in his lap. "I will help you get situated." Cas said.

Sam got to his feet and, after taking a look around the room as if searching for something, he made his way down the stairs.

The cot that Sam was lying on in the future was outside the panic room, leaning upright against the rough brick wall. Cas picked it up and carried it into the panic room. He set it down in the very center, far from anything that Sam might be able to injure himself on. He covered it with a sheet from the bed hanging from the wall and a pillow, ready for Sam if and when he needed it. Sam rooted in one of the chests near the door and pulled out the leather restraints.

"It is not time for them yet, Sam," Cas chided.

"It is," Sam said. "It's better if you put them on me now rather than have to wrestle me into them later."

Cas didn't argue, though he wanted to, because this was Sam's choice. However he chose to handle what was coming for him was his decision to make. He would soon have very little control over anything in his suffering, so Cas let him take what he could now. He merely waited as Sam lay down on the cot and placed his hands at his sides. Cas quietly fixed the restraints in place and looped them around Sam's wrists and ankles. Sam locked eyes on him as he moved around him, something unreadable in his expression.

"Thanks, Cas," he said quietly.

Cas frowned in confusion. Why was Sam thanking him for tying him down?

"For staying," Sam clarified. "For not cringing away."

"Thank you, Sam," Cas replied, "for what you have risked. I promise you I will do all I can to make this as easy for you possible."

Sam smiled grimly. "That's nice and all, but you and I both know there's not a damn thing you can do." He turned his head and fixed his eyes on the ceiling. "This is my punishment."

At first, Cas stayed with Sam. He fed him sips of water and encouraged him to rest while he could. Sam didn't seem to gain any comfort from Cas's presence. He turned his head away from Cas and fixed his stare on the door, as if waiting for someone to walk through it at any moment. Cas hoped that he was doing something useful being there, so he stayed as long as he could. Unfortunately, that wasn't nearly long enough. Only a few hours after strapping Sam down, two hours after Sam last spoke, it started.

One moment Sam was lying on the cot, waiting for his unknown someone, and the next he was staring at a point over Cas's shoulder, his breaths coming in pants. Cas could stand only five minutes of Sam's torment at invisible hands, reassuring and knowing he wasn't being heard, before he slipped from the room like a coward and swung the heavy door closed behind him. It was only minutes later that the screaming started inside the room.

Bobby raced down the stairs at the noise, his favored old pistol gripped in his hand, ready to fight and protect. He skidded to a stop when he saw Cas's stance—standing outside the door with his arms crossed—and asked, "What the hell's happening to him?"

"Withdrawal," Cas said. "He is hallucinating."

"What? Hell?"

"Quite possibly. He has never spoken to me—or to my knowledge anyone else—of what the process entails for him. It's easy to imagine though, given my knowledge of the experiences he has had, that Lucifer at least is making a visit. Perhaps Michael, too."

Bobby shook his head dolefully. "What can we do?"

"There is nothing to do but wait for it to be over. Last time it took two days, this time it will probably be longer."

"Days!"

Cas nodded. "Last time it was after only one occurrence of drinking the blood, a slip influenced by Famine. The first time he went through this, he escaped in the middle of the process. That is how he was able to kill Lilith. I don't know how long it would have taken had he stayed."

"How the hell did he escape?" Bobby asked, his eyes fixed on the thick iron door.

"He had Heaven's help," Cas said.

Bobby cursed.

"This time will be different," Cas said confidently. Even if Heaven did try to intervene, Sam would not let them ruin it all. He would be strong enough to stay in place until help could come. Cas had faith.

Bobby stayed with them as long as he could bear, but Cas knew when it became too much, and he didn't comment when Bobby mumbled about food and running the phones and fled up the stairs.

Long hours passed of Cas just standing alone outside the room. At times, Sam would cry out again, and Cas guessed one of the archangels was with him. Other times, he was quieter, speaking to someone who wasn't there, sounding distressed but not pained. There were also periods of silence but for the rustling of Sam's clothes as he shifted restlessly.

In was in one of these moments of quiet that Cas heard the distinctive rumble of the Impala's engine coming along the road and then shifting to the packed dirt of Bobby's land. He listened as the car door opened and closed and then Dean's steps crossed the porch and entered the kitchen. Bobby greeted him sleepily, and Dean grunted a response.

"Where's Cas," Dean asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm when he used Castiel's truncated name.

"With Sam," Bobby answered.

Dean mumbled something and then Cas heard his heavy tread crossing the room and coming down the steps to the basement, followed by Bobby. As Dean's sight settled on Cas, his expression shifted into something accusatory and confrontational. "Still here then?"

"I am. I will be here as long as Sam needs me to be."

Dean huffed a laugh. "Yeah, 'cause what Sam needs now is an angel standing guard. That'll really help him. Thought you said he wouldn't try to escape this time."

"I don't believe he will," Cas said. "And I am not here merely as a guard. I am here as his friend. I didn't leave him."

Cas felt no regret for the accusation. Dean had been gone hours, longer than it took for him to collect his car, and from the scent of liquor on him, he hadn't merely spent the time driving. While Sam had been suffering, Dean had been drinking, and though Cas knew he could have done nothing had he been there, it still rankled. This Dean was all wrong. He had less reason to accuse Sam for his failings than he had last time—knowing that Sam had paid his dues—and yet the two times Sam went through this previously, Dean had stayed.

"You wanted me to stay and hold his hand?" Dean asked belligerently.

Cas didn't bother to answer him. An argument with Dean would achieve nothing other than a further gulf between them, and they were on the same side, even if Dean didn't realize it.

Inside the panic room, Sam began to shift restlessly again. The cot squeaked as he moved. Cas knew what was coming, as he was aware of the pattern now, but he didn't warn Dean.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Sam howled with pain. It was a drawn out cry that seemed to seep the color from Dean's face the longer it went on. As it trailed off into a sob, Dean swallowed and shook his head as if he could shake away the feeling, too.

"It sounds like he's dying," he said quietly.

"He isn't," Cas said. "That's not to say he won't."

"What d'ya mean?" Bobby asked, pushing past Dean and facing Cas closer than he would usually stand.

"I mean that Sam's body is under tremendous strain at the moment," Cas said. "We have feared for his life each time he has gone through this."

"You mean it could kill him?"

Cas nodded.

"Then what the hell are we doing?" Bobby asked. "Let's get him out of there."

"And do what?" Cas asked. "Feed him more blood? Sam would never take it."

"But…" Bobby faltered.

"Sam made his choice," Cas said. "He doesn't want the blood. I don't believe he wanted it before, but Alastair was too great a foe to be left alive. Now that he is eliminated, there is nothing great enough to make Sam drink again."

Dean, who had been watching their conversation in stony faced silence up till then, spoke up. "He'd rather be dead than addicted." It wasn't a question. It was a confirmation of what he already knew of his brother.

"Yes, this Sam would rather die that follow that path again"

"But if it kills him," Bobby said weakly.

"I would save him," Cas promised. "But it would complicate matters further. The angels would know of his death the moment he entered Heaven and they would know another angel brought him back. So much of what Sam and I are doing here is against the will of Heaven's plan, and if they knew that I or any other angel had turned renegade, their intervention would be swift. My presence here must remain secret."

One part of Cas's speech seemed to have stuck in Dean's mind. "You'd save him?"

"Yes."

Dean nodded his satisfaction and turned away and walked up the stairs again. Bobby watched him go and then moved to stand beside Cas. He crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the wall. Cas knew he wouldn't stay long, he was almost asleep on his feet, but he would stay as long as he could, not for Cas but for Sam.

The sun had risen and set again when something changed other than the phases of Sam's withdrawal. Cas was standing outside the panic room when he felt another angel's approach.

Cas had expected this visit for some time, and he only hoped that his repeated warnings and explanations to Dean and Bobby would work when they faced him again. On soundless feet, he hurried up the stairs and into the library, making himself visible as he did. Bobby and Dean were sitting at the kitchen table with a glass in front of each of them and an almost empty bottle of whiskey in the middle of the table.

Dean opened his mouth to speak when he saw him, but Cas pressed a finger to his lips and spoke in a whisper.

"I am coming, the other me, and I am going to have questions. Answer them as best you can but make no mention of me. Understand?"

They both nodded and Cas slipped into a corner and hid himself from sight.

The other Castiel appeared in the middle of the room and forwent a greeting in favor of asking, "What is happening here?"

"Drinking party," Dean said in a slightly slurred voice. "Want some?"

"No," Castiel said stiffly. "What I want is the betrayer. Where is Anna?"

Bobby shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. Someone knocked me out, and when I come round, Anna was gone. I figured you angels had her."

"We do not. It must have been the demons."

"Pretty impressive demon getting in the panic room," Dean observed.

"Lilith is more powerful that you can imagine," Castiel said dourly. "Your human methods of repelling and trapping will not work on her."

"Then I guess it's game over," Dean said. "The demons won this round."

Castiel nodded and then frowned as a howl of agony ripped up through the floorboards. "What is that?"

"That? That's Sam," Dean said, blinking blearily in a good imitation of intoxication.

"What has happened to him?"

"That's a long story," Dean said. "Grab a seat and I'll fill you in."

Castiel made no movement to sit. He merely stared down at Dean who sighed.

"Fine, stay standing. See, here's the thing, while I was in Hell, doing Hell things, Sam was topside running with a demon. I don't know exactly how it happened, what she said to him, but Sam went and got himself hooked on a new habit." He looked at Castiel darkly. "Demon blood. Turns out he's been sipping down the stuff fresh from a vein, Ruby's vein to be exact. It's what you might call the fuel for his ability to pull demons. Neat, huh?"

Sam chose that moment to scream out in pain again.

"Why have you locked him up?"

"Because we're drying him out," Bobby said. "Why do you think? We're getting the foul stuff out of him."

Castiel shook his head impatiently as Sam's pain became more and more audible. "You will kill him like this."

"Know much about it do ya?" Dean asked. "Seen many people dry out from demon blood?"

"No, of course not."

"Then you don't know what's going to happen," Bobby said reasonably. "He could be fine."

"The man I hear doesn't sound like he will be fine."

Dean took a swig from the bottle and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Better dead than addicted."

Bobby nodded his agreement, and though Cas himself knew it was for show and they didn't mean it, it still made him want to reveal himself to argue against them. He stayed in place though, silent and hidden, as the other Castiel attempted to argue.

"You will lose your brother, Dean, is that what you want?"

"That down there isn't my brother," Dean said. "That's an addict. He hasn't been my brother since I got out of Hell. He's been a demon's bitch. He won't be my brother again until the damn stuff's out of him."

"This is very dangerous, Dean."

"You think I don't know that?" Dean asked angrily. "We both know, but we also know it's the right thing. Sam isn't Sam like this. He's a monster."

With no warning or word of explanation, the Castiel of this time took flight and left.

For a moment, neither Dean nor Bobby reacted, and then they seemed to come to the same realization at the same time. They both breathed Sam's name and ran from the room. Cas wasted no time walking; he flew to the panic room directly. Sam was alone though. He was straining against the restraints and crying out alone. Wherever the other Castiel had gone, it was not here.

Dean yanked across the bolt on the door and hurried inside, looking around. He couldn't see Cas, as he was still shielding himself, and his wide, alert eyes whipped past Cas twice before he shouted his name.

Cas made himself visible and said, "He's not here."

"Then where the hell is he?" Dean asked.

"Possibly seeking revelation," Cas said. "Having failed to persuade you to free Sam, he will go to his superiors for guidance."

"And what'll they tell him?" Bobby asked.

"I can't be sure," Cas said evasively.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "Take a guess."

"I imagine they will order Sam to be freed," Cas said. "The timing is not correct, because the seals have not all broken yet, but they will likely keep him somewhere, keep feeding him blood until it is time for Lilith to die."

"But you said Sam wouldn't drink again," Dean said. "He'd rather die."

Cas looked apologetic. "I don't believe they will give him a choice, Dean."

"We need to know," Bobby said. "If they're coming for him, we have to move him. Protect him somehow."

Cas was considering the same thing. He could take Sam somewhere safe and ward it against angels. He could carve his ribs again, blocking him from angels' senses. He could do that and more to protect him, but it would reveal that there was a renegade angel at work. It would complicate things, but as long as he evaded them, their plan could still succeed. The important thing was that Sam not kill Lilith, nothing else mattered more than that to either of them.

Decision made, he said, "I will follow. Stay with Sam and keep him protected. You know the banishing sigil. If needed, use it."

He didn't give them a chance to answer before he spread his wings and took flight away from them.

So… Sam's suffering, Dean's hurting and Cas is frustrated as all hell. I didn't want to cover the withdrawal time from Sam's POV as I've done that before—Stairway to Heaven—and I don't personally enjoy scenes like that. Hope that didn't disappoint too many of you.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx