Title: Recrudescence

Author: ghost4

Disclaimer: Not mine. SO not mine.

Author's notes: Plot! OMG! o0. It's been so long!

Thanks goes to Miki, as always. The best friend/chat-buddy/cohort-in-fic/cyber-twin around. ;)

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. It was appreciated. You have no idea how much.

As always, any comments, good, bad, or indifferent, are more than welcome.

No one knows what it's like, to be hated,
to be fated to telling only lies.
But my dreams, they aren't as empty
as my conscience seems to be.
I have hours, only lonely.
My love is vengeance
That's never free.
No one knows what it's like, to feel these feelings
like I do.
And I blame you.

~ The Who – Behind Blue Eyes

Castiel was…tired.

Angels don't suffer fatigue… but even so, he ached with shear exhaustion. As much as he wanted to keep moving, offering Dean more time, eventually he simply couldn't. He had to…rest.

How the others would sneer at him, at his weakness. But there had been too much energy expended over too brief a time. He'd never completely recovered from his time in the cage.

He shuddered again, even now, remembering the creeping sensation of that strangely coherent cold that had crept over him. The way it had dug into him, into the flesh of his host, into his own celestial body – the way it had looked for openings into his very self.

Nausea stirred sluggishly in Castiel's stomach. It was wrong. That whole place was wrong. And Lucifer had survived there, in that empty chaos, in that raging stillness, for so very long….

Was it any wonder his elder brother was insane?

Castiel walked along the beach, wrapping his arms around himself. The sun was sinking, its light setting the sea on fire. Africa was beautiful at sunset.

He would have to retreat to Heaven to heal. And he needed healing. His back burned and throbbed from the near-miss of the grabbing hand. Something had torn through him, and his 'wing' felt…wrong. His head ached from the cage. From keeping a soul from disintegrating. And his powers were exhausted from fighting the influence of the Colt to heal Samuel. He should go home, where he could recharge, where his siblings would care for him.

But he owed the Winchesters too much to stop. Wherever this led them, so he would follow.

Even if it delivered him into the hands of his enemy.

"Hello, Raphael."

The archangel manifested behind him – silent as a shadow, powerful as a storm. "Castiel. You are good at knowing where we all are. I had forgotten."

Castiel shrugged. "It is my gift." The ocean was, for this moment, as much light as water. It humbled him.

"It is a valuable gift. None could be lost when you watched over them," Raphael praised. Castiel was not fooled. Raphael had never offered praise to any save those he wanted something from. "But now you are the one who is lost. Help me help you, little brother. Let me find you."

Castiel sighed, turning his back to the beautiful mystery of the sunset, wondering if it would the last thing of beauty he would ever see. "I know where I am, Raphael. And though I may not know where this path leads, I know those who walk with me. Their number does not include you."

"So you admit that you would choose the animals over your brothers? Not even an animal, but that…thing. That half-blooded freak? That abomination? You would truly pick him over freeing Michael?"

"I would pick the ones who have always done their best to help others. How long has it been since any of our kind could make that claim?"

"You think the idiot beasts help?" Raphael almost purred. "They deal with demons and sell their souls like cheep trinkets. How can they help anything?"

"They sacrifice," Castiel responded calmly. "They give up everything for each other, for people they don't even know. They fight to stop the pain and fear and suffering of others. They bleed to keep others whole. And, yes, they make mistakes. They loose faith and hope and get lost sometimes. But they own those mistakes – and they do their best to make it right, no mater the cost. When have we ever done the same?"

Raphael's eyes glimmered in the dusk. "Tell me, little brother, did you own your mistakes? Do the Winchesters know the part you played? Do they know what you did? All that you did, before you turned traitor on our Father's plan? On Michael?" He stepped closer. "And have you asked yourself what they will do when they find out?" The promise of the words was blatant.

Castiel closed his eyes. He was so tired. He sank into the sand, in effect kneeling before Raphael, though he faced the side, where he could see the ocean. "Which is why I can not listen to you anymore, brother. I followed orders, and damaged two souls irreparably. That could not be God's will. That is not right. And I will not follow so blindly again."

Raphael's features twisted, his beauty souring as he became only anger and hatred once again. "God is dead, Castiel. And we are alone. As we have been for a millennia. And I will save our brother and finish our Father's great work. You will not stop me. Now, I'll give you one chance. Give me the rings, and I will spare you, for a time at least. Do not, and I will take them from you, tearing you apart bit by bit until I find them."

Castiel smiled, soft and amused. "And, if I don't have them, Raphael?"

Raphael's eyes glittered. "Adiel said that Dean Winchester had the rings, and would not give them to her. Then you flew from his side, running as hard and as fast as you could. Why would you do that if you did not have the rings?"

The smile turned into a smirk. "Dean Winchester was loathe to give them to anyone, including me. But he knew, if I ran from you hard enough, you would chase – like any predator. He knew you would assume I carried the rings. The 'idiot beast' outthought you, brother."

Raphael's eyes widened as the truth of Castiel's words hit him. The archangel threw back his head and shrieked. Lightening cracked the clear sky, striking the ocean and the beach – boiling water into steam and melting sand into glass.

Castiel watched impassively until Raphael had finished. Raphael stalked over, leaning over him. Castiel could see the first of the evening stars glimmering behind Raphael's shoulders.

"Winchester still has the rings?"

Castiel wondered vaguely if he was about to die. He was somewhat surprised that he felt so little fear. "If he would not give them to me, then he would not part with them."

Raphael's aura flared and spit with his anger. "I will kill him, and that monster he calls brother. And then I will free Michael, and this mud-hole will end." Raphael's eyes flickered at Castiel. "But you, I will spare for now. You will live to see the end of all things. You will weep for the loss of all you cared for. And then, when you are broken, then I will send you to meet our Father."

Raphael was gone as quickly as he had appeared, fading into the growing night.

Castiel closed his eyes, taking a long, steadying breath.

Then opened his hand, revealing the four rings, clutched in his palm.

He'd never lied. Raphael would have tasted the lie as soon as it crossed his tongue. So Castiel had never lied. He never said that he didn't have the rings – Raphael had assumed…just like Dean had said he would. "Don't try to hide them until after, Cas," Dean had instructed. "That bastard will check every place he sees you stop. So just run. Run until you can't. Then let him think I have the rings. That I never gave them to you. Just ask him what would happen if you didn't have them, and he'll do the rest."

Dean had known – known that if Castiel ran, Raphael would follow, giving him and Sam time to hide. He had known that Raphael could be manipulated. Had taken the risk that Castiel would stand strong when faced with his brother's fury.

Dean Winchester had trusted him. Dean had faith in him.

But then again, Dean had no idea what Castiel had done, to him – and to his brother.

Castiel looked over the ocean, cool and dark and fathomless now that night had fallen.

But the stars were pretty. Distant, but lovely just the same.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Dean's number.