Chapter 2
A/N: Thanks to all of those who read, and especially to those who reviewed! (Special props to angeleyenc and cold kagome!) This is my own take on what should have happened at the end of season 4 and into season 5. Now here is my caveat – I haven't seen Season 5 yet (GASP!) so that means that if I accidentally do something that Kripke did, I'm sorry – but that would mean my brain works like his (scary). I don't own any of it and I'm not making any profit, but I do love reviews!
"One brother to break the first seal, and one brother to break the final seal."
"Put him here boys," Bobby pointed to a cot set up in the middle of the living room. Piles of books had been pushed to the far corners and Enochian sigils drawn in white chalk covered the walls.
"Thanks for doing this Bobby," Dean laid the unconscious angel down on the cot and stepped back to give him some space. He looked so weak, so human, lying there. Bobby pulled off his trucker hat and ran a hand through his hair.
"So this is Castiel," he paused, "the Angel."
"Yup," Dean walked to the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer from the fridge. He cracked the top off with the bottle opener on his keys and tossed the cap in the trash. Sipping the Budweiser, he savored the taste of hops. It had been a long car ride.
Sitting on the arm of a chair, Dean stared blankly at Castiel, "Do you know how to heal him Bobby?"
"Hell kid, this is uncharted territory for me. There isn't much lore on angels needing to be healed by humans." Bobby shook his head, "We're pretty much in the dark here."
Sam stood in the door to the living room, hesitant to enter. Last time he had seen Bobby, he had been raving mad from withdrawal. He had sorta clocked Bobby on the head with a shotgun so he could steal a car and run off to Ruby. It wasn't exactly a shining moment in Sam's life. Bobby finally seemed to notice his presence crowding the entryway.
"Get your ass in here," Sam slowly walked towards him and Bobby grabbed the boy in a tight embrace, "You're my family, boy!"
He pulled back and motioned his head towards Dean, "I kept trying to explain it to that knucklehead over there; that you hold on to your family, no matter what kind of shit they put you through. I'm just glad to see it finally penetrated his thick skull."
"Thick skull, my ass" Dean muttered to his beer. He knew Bobby was right.
That forced a small chuckle out of Sam's lips and Dean grinned at him. They might be alright after all; then the smile fell from Bobby's face. He got real close to Sam and said, "But if you ever pull that kind of stunt again, knocking me out with my own gun, you're gonna get what's coming to you."
The chuckle died quickly at Bobby's words, "Yes, sir."
"A little rock salt in your pretty little ass and that will teach you to mind your elders!" Bobby laughed and broke the tension, "Now let's eat."
He pushed both boys towards the kitchen, "When Mister High-and-Mighty wakes up, he can tell us what he needs. We can't do much for him till then."
Castiel didn't wake up for 24 hours after they got to Bobby's. As Sam and Dean grew more worried, they tried to distract themselves by preparing. However, trying to prepare for an onslaught of evil angels is harder than it looks. Bobby and Sam spent most of their time reading the few books Bobby had on angels (without much luck) and Dean finished covering the rest of the house in demon and angel repelling sigils. They weren't taking any chances.
He spent the afternoon setting wards at the edge of the property, hoping it would alert them if any angels grew close. He rolled the sleeves up on his flannel shirt, being out on Bobby's property alone didn't help his worried mind and all he could think about was Sammy.
Dean and Sam still hadn't talked. Their fight in the honeymoon suite was on constant loop in both of their minds, yet neither had said a word the entire car ride, or since arriving at Bobby's. Neither wanted to confront the other and chance destroying their shaky truce.
Bobby could feel the tension, it was as thick as Southern style gravy on country-fried steak, but he knew better than to get too far into the Winchester boys' business. They'd either figure it out or shoot each other. One or the other.
As the afternoon wore on, Sam felt himself become more and more distracted. He had read the same page in this particular book about six times now. Nothing was sinking in anymore. He watched the dust motes in the late afternoon sun; swirl around in the air currents. Life used to be so easy. Travel across the country with his brother, kill demons and sleep in crappy motels. With angels and hell and demon blood, everything had gotten complicated. The lies Ruby told him, mixed with the truths Dean had shown him and Sam felt that everything had become muddled in his brain.
Finally Sam couldn't stand it anymore; he stood up from the table and shut the book with a thud. Bobby hardly glanced at him, engrossed in some equally thick tome. Castiel didn't move a muscle. Stretching his lanky legs, Sam walked towards the stairs. Dean had come in a few minutes earlier and had mumbled something about a shower.
Walking up the stairs towards their room, Sam took a deep breath before opening the bedroom door.
Dean sat on the bed, his clothes covered in sweat, dust, and grime. He was trying to work up the energy to go into the bathroom and shed the offending garments. He looked up when Sam walked in the door and quickly realized he should have gotten in the shower faster. Damn his procrastination.
Sam stopped and stared at his brother, "Dean, we need to talk."
"And I need a shower," Dean pushed off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Sam put a hand out and stopped him by touching his shoulder. "I mean it Sam, can we do this later?"
Sam looked momentarily crestfallen then steeled his resolve, "No Dean, it needs to happen now. How can you not want to talk about this?"
"The same way you can ignore my need for a shower apparently." Dean rolled his eyes and looked at his little brother again. "Oh no Sammy, not that."
Dean was lost as soon as he looked at Sam; the puppy dog eyes always got him.
"C'mon man, that's not even fighting fair!" Dean sighed and sat back down on the bed.
Sam sat opposite him on his bed, "I'm sorry."
Dean was incredulous, "You're sorry? I was right this whole time; about Ruby being a bitch, about the psychic powers and you're sorry?"
Sam winced, he had been hoping the conversation would go a bit better than that, "You're right Dean, this is all my fault. What more do you want from me? To grovel at your feet? I'm sorry."
Dean's fury weakened when he realized Sam was being truly sincere, "Oh Sam, it just seemed so obvious, I couldn't understand, hell I still don't understand, how you couldn't see it for yourself."
"Yes, Ruby was a bitch who lied to me and got me hooked on this," Sam swallowed, "demon blood. I can't take any of it back now, I can only ask for your forgiveness." Sam's eyes grew cloudy with tears and Dean's heart softened a bit more. This was his little brother, the man he went to hell for. How could he hate him?
"Then I'm sorry too Sam," the words came out a Dean's mouth at barely more than a whisper.
"What?" It was Sam's turn to look mildly surprised.
"I'm sorry I told you I never wanted to see you again," Dean spoke a bit more strongly this time. It took a lot for him to admit he was wrong. "As soon as those words came out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. We can get through this Sammy; we've been through hell and back, literally. Why not this too?"
Sam smiled through his silent tears, "Sure thing Dean." A small shudder wracked his body.
"You okay?" Dean figured their emotional reuniting had exhausted poor little Sammy, so he was surprised when Sam said, "Just craving a bit of… you know."
"Shit, Sam," Dean rubbed his hands on his dirty jeans, "what are we going to do with you?"
Both boys laughed humorlessly, "Know any demons we can drain?" Sam attempted a joke.
Dean stood up from the bed and said, "We'll figure it out Sam. I'm gonna grab a shower, you go tell Bobby we made up and he can stop tiptoeing around us now."
Sam wiped the tears from his cheeks and smiled at Dean through reddened eyes, "Sure thing, bro."
Dean leaned his forehead on the cold tile wall and let the hot water stream down his back. The heat soothed his sore muscles but did nothing for the headache he could feel forming behind his eyes. What were they going to do about Sam's "drug addiction"? Cold turkey hadn't gone so well last time, perhaps they could wean him off of it slowly, though Dean didn't like the idea of keeping a demon around so Sam could feed on it. He shuddered, that was kinda gross.
Suddenly there was shouting from downstairs; Dean was jolted out of his reverie. He grabbed a towel from the rack and his shotgun off the floor in the bedroom and raced out the door still soaking wet. A bright white light filled the living room.
"Sammy!" Dean roared, "Bobby!" he skidded down the stairs, his bare feet sliding on the slick wood. Of course the angels decide to attack when he's in the shower. Stupid angels.
He careened around the corner of the banister and into the living room. The shotgun was cocked and aimed towards the middle of the bright light. Shotgun shells might not do much against an angel, but Dean sure as hell wasn't going to go down without a fight!
"Dean!" Sam shouted his name. Dean looked over in surprise to see Sam standing with no weapon in his hands; he glanced at Bobby who was next to Dean. No weapon. "Dean, it's Cas! He's awake."
The bright white light faded and Castiel stood in the middle of the living room, looking as if nothing had ever happened. His overcoat was whole again and there were no bloodstains covering his white shirt.
Castiel looked at Dean who was standing in a puddle, in the middle of the room, wearing only a Kelly green bath towel, holding a shot gun cocked and ready. He gave Dean an eyebrow, "Well that is one way to greet a fallen angel."
Dean looked down at his glistening chest, and towel that was quickly slipping from around his waist and let out a tiny shriek. Bobby and Sam cracked up while Dean ran back upstairs; Castiel simply observed.
"He really does scream like a girl," Bobby said to Sam.
"I told you; you should have come earlier when he was infected with ghost sickness," Sam chuckled, "it was classic!"
"Now I'm real sorry to have missed that," Bobby said ruefully.
"Can we get to the matter at hand?" Castiel had bigger problems than Dean's soprano-like tendencies. "The angels will be tracking me as we speak."
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