Disclaimer: We do not own Supernatural, any of the characters, none of it. Pretty much, we own the plotline, and that's about it.

A/N: We apologize for the delay. Legolyn went camping and had not even a single bar of cell service, much less internet. However, she didn't care, because she got to shoot a shotgun made by the Winchester company, and that totally made her entire month. She would also like it to be known that she got 4 feet of air on her four wheeler.

In more seriousness, we are sorry for how long this took. We are both busy girls with quite a few issues, as you can probably tell. But your reviews mean everything to us, so please leave a review. Even if it's bad. ESPECIALLY if it's bad. We want to fix the bad. We can't do that if we don't even know about the bad. REVIEW. NAO.

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Castiel opened his eyes blearily, clearing what felt like a hundreds years worth of dust was covering them. Gingerly, he pushed himself up off the table, which was still stained with blood. He stretched, wincing as the stitches in his back pulled.
He looked around the room. It was old, unkempt, and dusty in places. He knew where he was. This was Bobby's house, the man who played surrogate father to the Winchesters. To Dean. Cas shut his eyes for a moment, not wanting to think too hard about the older brother right now. He took a deep breath and padded barefoot towards the open door near him, peering cautiously into the next room.

The slumped form of a man was sitting on the edge of the couch, head in his hands in abject despair.
"Dean?"

Dean's head snapped up. Cas almost took a step back at the expression of anguish on his face. Abruptly, all the emotion vanished and Dean's face was smooth and unreadable. "Cas. You're awake. Good." His voice was as flat as his expression. He stood and walked over to where the angel still stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but his dark slacks. Dean met his eyes for a moment, then dropped to the floor. "Let me see."

Castiel started to protest, but changed his mind after the emotion he'd seen in Dean's face. He turned slowly, showing him his back. "Is it healing?" he asked softly.

Dean made a noncommittal noise as he viewed the damage he'd done. The skin around the stitches was red, swollen, and shiny. He probed gently with his fingers, testing the texture and the tightness of the inflammation.

Castiel whipped around, slapping Dean's hand away harshly. "Don't touch me, Dean. Haven't you done enough?" The words were out of his mouth before he'd even thought them through, and the hot flash of anger that happened when he looked at Dean faded as quickly as it came over him.

Dean stared. "Cas...are you feeling ok?" He studied the angel's face, a feeling of foreboding flooding through him. Something was wrong.

"I'm fine, Dean. I don't know what came over me." But he refused to look at Dean again. "Where is Sam? And Bobby?"

Dean shrugged, trying to brush away the feeling of unease. "Sam's asleep. Bobby's somewhere around here. I think he might be in his study." He pushed past Cas into the living room, looking at the ruined table. "Come here. I want to clean your...wounds again." He grabbed a towel and a bottle of peroxide. "I thought you couldn't get infected, but I stand corrected."

"I shouldn't be able to get infected." He added quietly, but followed Dean anyway. "...Why did you do it, Dean?"

Dean glared defensively. "I told you already. I wasn't going to leave you there to die at Zachariah's hands. And the only way to save you was to keep the poison from getting into your body." He pointed to the stained table. "Sit."

He did. "I would have rather died than be like this." he muttered darkly. He glanced over his shoulder, glaring at Dean. And not in his usual "the fate of the world depends on you and you are making unintelligible pop culture references at me." way, but something else. Something darker.

Dean froze for a moment at the look on his friend's face, but shook his head. He was being paranoid, and his guilt was making him fuzzy. "Cas, I...I can't apologize enough. I can't do anything to fix this." He looked at the ground, the towel hanging limply in his hand. "But I'm not so sorry that I wish I'd left you. I never will be." He leaned over Cas's naked back. "This will hurt. Brace yourself." He held the towel at the base of the angel's bare back and poured the peroxide down the length of one of the wounds.

Castiel jumped. "Shit!" The word exploded out of him as the peroxide stung his back, and a light across the room flickered out.

Dean jerked back. "Cas." He leaned around to look at his friend's face. Cas's expression was numb, blank with shock. "Cas, you just swore."

"It hurt." He said quietly, looking down at his bare feet. "And you swear all the time."

"Yes, I do. But I'm not an angel. Hell, I'm not even a saint." Dean looked intently at Cas. "I'm going to keep washing out the wounds. Just...keep quiet." He walked back around the table and tipped the bottle once more.

"Fine.", he snapped, staring at the wall. Anger was churning in his gut, anger at Dean, at the pain, at everyone. It was a new feeling, hot and red, and he was at a loss for how to express it. All he could do was clench his jaw and try not to make a sound as the liquid burned down his back.

Dean capped the bottle and walked back around to face Castiel. "Until you're healed, we want you to stay here. With Bobby. Sam and I will be leaving soon, to keep hunting. Bobby'll look after you." He examined the expression on the angel's face. "Cas, really, aside from the obvious, are you feeling alright?"

"Just leave, Dean. You don't want to be here, and I do not want you here. So just get out." He glared at Dean, and for a moment, the blue of his eyes was completely engulfed in black.

Dean jumped backwards, violently enough to hit the floor. "Bobby!" he yelled. Gun. He needed a gun. Dean scrambled to his feet, his eyes never leaving Castiel.

Castiel looked at him surprised, a flash of remorse crossing his face. "Dean, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh..." He stood, offering him his hand to help him up.

Dean backed away. "Cas, I mean it, don't move." Bobby wheeled himself into the room, a sawed off laying across his lap. "Dean, what is going on?" Dean grabbed the shotgun and aimed it at the angel. "Bobby, his eyes. They turned black. My hand to God, they turned black."

Castiel paled. "My...no, that's…that's not possible."

Bobby looked back and forth between the two. Dean, standing straight with the gun pointed at his friend, a look of fear on his face. Castiel, hunched in fear and pain and confusion, holding his hands palms up and away from his body. He sighed. "Dean. Put the gun down. He's an angel, for God's sake, his eyes can't go black."

"I already possess this vessel, Dean. A demon could not have taken it." Cas shuddered at the thought. "Please." He decided Dean was right about anger. It felt a far sight better than the icy cold of fear.

"I'm not going crazy. Your eyes turned black. I saw it." Dean lowered the shotgun and stepped closer. "And it's not just that, Cas. You've been acting strangely ever since you woke up." He took a breath. "Ever since I cut your wings out." He looked back at Bobby. "He slapped my hand away, earlier. And he swore at me when I cleaned the wounds."

Bobby's eyes narrowed. "That can't be right."

Castiel was getting more and more panicked, not a pretty sight on an angel. "It hurt, and I am...I am not happy with what has been done to me. I tried to save you and you...you cut me apart!" Lights flickered all over the room, and Castiel jumped off the table. "I don't think I'm the one you should be pointing the gun at!"

Dean and Bobby both backed away. "Dean?" Sam's voice came from the next room. "Sammy, stay away!" Dean yelled, his eyes never leaving the furious angel. Sam slid into the room anyway, gun aimed at the ceiling. "Dean, what is going on?" Dean gave him a fast rundown. Sam's mouth fell open. "That's...that's not-" "Yeah, yeah, not possible, I know. Except for the part where it is." Castiel now had two guns aimed at him.

Castiel looked at one brother, than the other, confusion and terror written on his face. "Dean, please. I'm not going to hurt anyone. I wouldn't."

Dean had already realized what he was going to have to do, and his shoulders dropped in despair. He was going to have to hurt his friend again. "Dean." Bobby murmured. "Yeah, I know." Dean said. His fingers tightened on the gun. "Wait!" Sam said. "Dean, wait, I have an idea." Dean looked at him, desperate for any idea than the one he and Bobby had. Sam licked his lips, hoping Dean would go with it. "We can put him in the safe room."

Castiel looked at Sam gratefully. "Yes. Dean…yes. I'll stay in there, nothing could...I'd be alright in there." He extended his hands plaintively. "Please."

Dean's eyebrows went up at Cas's easy agreement. "Cas, you're having...symptoms...of being possessed by a demon. That room is proof against demons." He waited for the angel to understand. "If you really are...becoming a demon, you would be in unimaginable pain."

"I am NOT becoming a demon!" Glass shattered as some of Castiel's true voice slipped out in his anger.

The three men screamed in pain as the angelic voice ripped at their ears. "Cas! Please, calm down." Cas took deep breaths, trying to stabilize. Dean took a shaky step towards his friend. "Cas, all things considered...I think it's best that we put you in the safe room." He held out his hand, pleading. "Please, come with us."

He glared at Dean darkly, eyes two shades of blue darker than usual. "Thank you. I apologize for my outburst."

Dean blinked. "Yeah." He turned his back on Cas, heading for the basement. "Follow me."

Castiel slipped past Sam and Bobby, not looking either in the eye, following Dean down the basement stairs.

Sam and Bobby fell in behind the angel, like guards. It made Cas itch to turn and look at them, but he kept his eyes on Dean's back. They trooped down the stairs and through the darkened basement. Dean reached the safe room door, marked with holy symbols, and Cas repressed a shudder. Then he realized what he'd done. Dean unlocked the solid iron door and stepped inside. Cas stayed rooted to the outside. "Cas?" Dean poked his head out the door.

"I don't want to go in there." he said quietly. Something about it terrified him, repelled him. He told himself it was the lack of sunlight, green things, running water, things angels needed and held dear, but Dean's words, and the conviction behind them rang in his head. 'Demon...'

Dean's jaw tightened. This only confirmed what he already feared. Cas was changing. Cas wasn't holy anymore. He stepped out of the room and placed his hand on Castiel's elbow. He let out a long sigh. "Sam?" Sam came up and grabbed the angel's other elbow. "Get him in there." The brothers tightened their grip and pulled.

Castiel pulled against them, but only with minimal effort. The moment he passed through the door, he collapsed to the ground, whimpering. "Something is not right.."

Dean and Sam let go, allowing him to completely crumple to the floor. Sam backed out of the room, unsure of what to do. Dean crouched down and touched Castiel's back, on the unbroken skin between the wounds. "...Cas?"

"Dean..." Castiel looked over this shoulder at him, eyes wide and terrified. "Help me." They were solid black.

Dean lurched away so fast he tripped over the doorsill. Cas let out a horrific screech and tried to leap through the door, but Dean kicked it shut. Sam twisted the lock, sealing the angel inside the demon-proof room.

"Dean! Dean, let me out! Please don't leave me in here!!" Castiel screamed through the door, and Sam looked at his brother, stricken. "What do we do now?"

Dean pulled himself to his feet, staring at the door. He could see Castiel's eyes through the slot in the door, his eyes still a shiny, beetle black. "I'm sorry, Cas. We have to keep you in there until..." he swallowed. "Until we find out what's wrong with you." He took a breath as though to say something else, then flipped the small door shut, shutting off all contact. He could still hear the angel's screams through the metal. "Come on, Sam."

Sam looked from his brother to the door. "You're just gonna leave him in there?!"

"Yes. I am. You got a better idea?" Dean turned to his brother. "Castiel has black eyes. He is cursing, swearing, acting out violently. Do any of those things sound angelic or holy to you??" Dean took a step closer to Sam. "Or possibly, do they sound demonic? What exactly do you propose we do with our little demonic angel?"

"We fix him. Make him angel again. However possible, Dean, it's our fault he's in there. It has to be his wings, that's what did this."

Dean dropped his head. "Yeah. I know. It's my fault." He shut his eyes for a moment. "So, how do we fix him?"

Sam huffed a frustrated breath. "Uhm...another angel? Zachariah, maybe? He started all this, maybe with the right threats, or bargains, he would..."

Dean laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Funny, Sam. Yeah, Zachariah, the one who tried to kill Cas in the first place, just yesterday, in fact, and you want to ask him to save Cas now?" He snickered. "Funny."

"What about Anna, maybe she knows something, or hell, I don't know, Raphael?" Sam looked at Dean, hard. "We can't just leave him in there, Dean, we can't."

Dean shook his head. "Sam, I don't know if you noticed Zachariah's face when he saw Cas, but I sure did. And if wingless-angel-making pissed that bastard off that much, can you imagine how Anna or anyone else would react?" He looked around, almost afraid. "Sam, they would smite me right where I stand. We can't leave him in there forever." He sighed. "But we can afford to leave him for a while. Just until we figure out what to do."

"You know..." Sam stepped discretely out of punching range, and looked at the wall. "There's always Lucifer.."

Dean stared for a second. "Not only no, Sammy, but hell no. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Sam held up his hands. "It's just a thought. We're running low on options here."

"We are not that desperate, Sam, and I'm telling you right now, we will never BE that desperate." Dean was getting angry now, his hands bunching into fists.

Sam paused a moment, letting Cas's cries of pain and helplessness waft through the door. "That doesn't sound desperate to you, Dean?"

Dean's face pinched in pain at the sound of his friend's terror, but he set his jaw. "Cas would never, NEVER even think of going to Lucifer for help. And the fact that you are, Sam, makes me wonder about you." He held his brother's eyes, challenging.

Sam stepped closer to his brother. "Do not turn this on me, Dean. You're the reason he's in there in the first place!"

Dean rocked back as though Sam had hit him. He blinked and took a breath, then turned and walked back up the stairs to where Bobby was waiting. He could feel his brother's eyes burning into his back, and Castiel's screams tore at his ears as he left them both behind.