He awoke slowly, which in itself was odd. Castiel could recall just a few incidents since the beginning of time where he lost awareness. It seemed that all of them had been since his introduction to the Winchesters. Of the many sensations he had experienced since his alliance with the humans, this was not one he would like to repeat.

He felt the weakness of his vessel like no other time. There was pain of partially healed bones and what he believed to be stitches across several wounds on his chest and lower arm. Why he would have such a barbaric procedure done to him was a mystery... it was all very unpleasant.

What was not unpleasant was the other sensations he encountered...the musty smell of old books and papers mixed with salt and alcohol-an unusual mixture, but familiar. He knew this place-he was at Bobby Singer's house, and he was strangely comforted by that thought.

He wished to know why he was in this state but his thoughts were strangely disrupted. He remembered a call from Sam-they were on the way to a warehouse that was the center of some serious demon activity-and were wondering if he could join them. He was in the back seat of the Impala before the younger Winchester had disconnected the call.

There was a battle, and he felt a familiar presence in the room. Before he could whisk the brothers or himself to safety, Dean was unconscious, and Sam was being restrained by no less than three demons. Castiel was engaged by a small army of possessed humans-and one of his own kind. The sword that he had gained possession of after Uriel's death was forcefully removed from his grasp and then plunged into his vessel's stomach-not a kill shot, but an intensely painful reminder that even angels were not truly immortal.

Elyon working with the demons had been a surprise-but Castiel realized now that it made sense. Lucifer had his followers-and it seemed logical that he would place some of them in charge of his demon army. Although they had been instrumental in his release, Lucifer did not regard their ability to accomplish his end goal without constant supervision.

Castiel shifted slightly on the couch, injured flesh issuing protest and bringing new memories into focus. Being "reminded" of his duties when he was forcefully recalled to heaven was a lesson in cruelty. His fellow angels were able to inflict horrors that would make most demons long for the warmth of hell fire. Strangely though, the torture of his human vessel was worse-perhaps it was the presence of his vessel's true owner writhing in agony yet unable to escape the physical assault -or the fear of what may occur if the true goal of his abuse was realized. Elyon was hoping Sam's guilt at seeing his friend assaulted would encourage him to agree to be Lucifer's vessel.

The angel's desire to prevent this outcome gave him the strength he needed to help free Sam and Dean. How he managed to transport all three of them to the Impala was beyond him. It had drained him more than he could have comprehended, but it had worked. The fact that he was apparently laying on Bobby Singer's couch seemed evidence of this. Too tired to open Jimmy's eyes to verify this information, he searched with his mind for confirmation.

He felt nothing.

He could not feel the presence of anyone-in this room, this house or the surrounding environment. He could not feel his grace-the essence that made him an angel-and he could not feel his wings. He could only feel the weight of his vessel's body laying on a flat, soft surface.

This frightened Castiel more than he could have imagined. The shock of it all bringing him fully awake and bolting upright, his eyes opening widely to see what his grace could not. The sudden movement aggravated his injured vessel, injuries that should already be healed. They seemed more painful than when they were actually inflicted. He gasped, holding in a scream of agony as Jimmy's awareness registered the painful injuries as well.

Castiel heard footsteps behind him, instinctively reaching out to sense the approaching being. He was met with a wave of dizziness instead of awareness. When he could not read the others soul, his blind panic sped up his breathing. He could not control his vessels reaction to this shock-mainly because in reality it was directly his own.

Sam had just started to pour himself some coffee in Bobby's kitchen when he heard movement in the other room. Castiel had been out for almost two days, and the three humans had been taking turns watching over him, not sure how to treat the injuries of a celestial being. He put the mug down and walked towards the living room, increasing his pace as he heard Castiel groan.

As he entered the room, he immediately realized something was wrong-Castiel was looking around, frantic eyes searching for something, one had holding onto his injured side. When he saw Sam enter the room, he instinctively recoiled slightly, fear dancing across his face.

Sam was unsure what to do with this reaction-it was reminiscent of their first meeting and caused the younger Winchester a slight pang of guilt. He stopped moving and put up his hands in what he hoped was a calming gesture.

"Hey Cas, easy...don't move too much yet. You're okay, you're safe...we're at Bobby's..." Sam motioned around him, indicating the room. "Dean is sleeping upstairs, and Bobby down the hall. Did you want me to get one of them..." he trailed off, feeling a little embarrassed.

Castiel shook his head slowly, a new wave a dizziness the result. "I can not feel anything, Sam..." the angel replied, his voice rougher than usual.

Sam was unsure what the angel meant by that phrase. It seemed evident by the lines on his face that he was feeling too much. "Cas, I'm not sure I follow..." He said, slowly lowering his hands. It seemed to Sam that something other than his demon tainted blood was the issue right now.

Castiel looked around the room again, then at Sam, clearly trying to put into words something that could not be explained. "I can't feel anything...anyone...just myself." His voice trailed off, his eyes imploring Sam to understand the depth of his loss.

Sam took in a sharp breath, suddenly grasping the angels meaning. "Oh god-Cas-it's not you! Its these..." He took a step to the right, taking a knife out of his hand to scrape some paint off the floor. "We didn't know how to protect you..." he tried to explain, rushing his words to reassure the angel.

As Sam broke the sigils the world overwhelmed Castiel. He could feel Bobby down the hall, not quite asleep, but unaware. He could feel the remnants of a nightmare on the edge of Dean's mind upstairs. He could even feel some animals outside, scurrying amongst the relics in the junkyard.

And he could feel Sam. The young man was staring at the angel, guilt warring with sadness at what he realized they had done to their friend.

Castiel smiled slightly, the relief he felt expressed in his words. "That is much better...thank you."

Sam sat heavily on the arm of the couch furthest from the angel, a hand rubbing across his face. "We weren't sure how to help you, Cas...you were barely breathing..." he shook his head slightly,staring at the wards they had painted around the couch Castiel had rested on. "We figured the sigils would protect you from the angels until you could protect yourself. Really should have thought that one over a little better..."

"This is not your fault, Sam. My separation from Heaven's powers has had some unusual side effects." Castiel made eye contact with the young man. "You meant me no harm, and you were correct...in this state, I would not have been able to defend myself."

Sam sighed, willing to accept the angels words. "Do you need anything? Food, drink...first aid?"

Castiel raised his arm slowly, looking at the stitching across it. "It appears that I have already received first aid."

A sheepish grin appeared on Sam's face. "Yeah, that was, uh...Bobby's doing. Something about you bleeding all over his rug or something."

Castiel nodded slowly, not really understanding. How could he be blamed for the actions of his vessel while he was unconscious?

Sam was standing now, pleased to see that Castiel seemed to returning to his awkward staring. "I'm going to grab my coffee...you sure you don't need anything?"

He considered for a moment, feeling the frailness of his vessel. The injuries were still healing, and the energy expended on just the last few minutes left him drained. "All I believe I need now is rest." he stated, feeling a little unsure how to actually accomplish such a simple thing.

Sam smiled, seeing the mild confusion cross Castiel's face. This he could help with. He walked back over to the angel and made a motion for Castiel to lay down. He pulled the blanket over Castiel and smiled reassuringly. "Okay, so this is called sleeping...you've seen us do it plenty of times, but its harder in practice. The most important part...close your eyes and let your mind relax."

Castiel did as instructed, and was mildly surprised by how easily Jimmy's body feel back into this routine. "Thank you Sam...you are a good friend." he murmured, sleep already taking his tired vessel.

Sam, taken aback by this unguarded moment, felt the blush rush to his face. "Thanks Cas...you too." Retrieving his coffee from the kitchen and the book he was reading from the table, Sam sat nearby to keep his post. His mother always believed that angels were watching over her sons-apparently tonight it would be one of her son's turn to watch over them.


Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed...as always reviews are most welcome.

~km