AN: I know it took forever, but I didn't have access to my computer so I couldn't post. In my defense, this is the longest chapter. Three cheers for hurt/comfort and super-awesome-supportive-Dean that are coming your way in this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own it, but I don't make money from this.

Special thanks to SyNnEE for the review and for the favorite! Both made my day!

Earlier that day

Cas drove the rental car far above the legal speed, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The drive to Nebraska was many hours long, but he was determined to reduce that time as much as was humanly possible. He was coming for Dean (and Sam), and if he was wrong about what was going on, then fine. Dean could yell at him, hit him - he didn't care. He just had to make sure Dean was alive and well. If he had been taken, someone, or something, was going to die.

After 6 hours, Cas finally pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse. He killed the engine, hoping no one had heard it. This was definitely not the typical place Dean Winchester chose to hang out at. Deciding the best move was to survey the premises, Cas took a quiet, careful walk around the building. He found the Impala parked behind it. Knowing Dean had better weapons stashed in the trunk than Cas had with him, he opened it and took out one silver-loaded pistol, one salt-loaded sawed-off, and then gently closed the trunk again. He now had two firearms to go along with his angel blade and silver knife.

Cas entered the building through a side door that opened into a large room that appeared to occupy most of the structure. He stayed in the shadows to avoid being seen. He spotted two men close to the middle of the room. They seemed to be contemplating a table, and on that table was what appeared to be an array of torture devices. He saw knives and whips and hammers and iron rods that could only be used for burning... skin... Feeling anger and nausea rise up within him simultaneously at the thought of those being used on the Winchesters – especially Dean – he walked forward, abandoning the shotgun since he was sure he wasn't dealing with ghosts. "Hey!" he yelled, getting their attention.

"Crap," said one. The other just froze when he saw the anger written on Cas's features.

Hoping it was the right weapon, Cas shot the one who'd had a verbal reaction in the chest with a silver bullet. As far as he could tell, the thing was dead when it collapsed onto the ground. The other suddenly seemed to come out of its stupor and surged toward Cas, only to be met with the same fate as his partner. Cas waited for a minute, making sure that nothing else was going to come and try to avenge the fallen beings, before he turned his focus to finding Sam and Dean.

Meanwhile

Dean looked at Sam, hope in his eyes. Maybe his words were going to turn out true after all. Sam returned Dean's gaze. They both had the same thing in their eyes – hope. "You think, maybe…"

"Cas," Dean said with a nod. "Who else would it be?"

"Maybe another hunter?" Sam suggested, earning a glare. He hadn't really meant it. He somehow knew, just as Dean did, that this was Cas.

"You think we should call for him?" Dean asked, "You know, so he'll know where we are."

"Cas!" Sam called as an answer. Dean repeated him.

"Dean! Sam! Are you alright?" Cas asked from the other side of the door a few moments later.

"We're fine, just get us out of here," Dean replied.

"I'm trying," Cas said, before he finally found the correct key on the key ring he'd seen on the table outside. When he opened the door, he was completely unprepared for the sight that awaited him. Sam and Dean had definitely been through the ringer. They had innumerable cuts marring their flesh, along with what appeared to be burns. There were bruises as well. Cas couldn't be sure, but he thought he might be seeing broken fingers, and Sam might have been sporting a broken nose. He wasn't sure he wanted to imagine what was hidden beneath their clothes. "Oh my," was all he could say.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you," Dean said. He held himself back from giving Cas a hug and a kiss and everything else. This was not the time or the place for it. Then a thought crossed his mind. "What did you shoot those things with?"

"Silver bullets," Cas said.

"Good. They were shapeshifters. Or at least, two of them were. Did you see a third out there?"

"No," Cas said. "What was the third?"

"An angel," Sam said. "His name's Azrael, I think. He must be gone for now."

"Good. Now please, come with me. I need to get the two of you to a safer place. Then I intend to deal personally with Azrael. I believe the expression is 'he is a dead man walking'."

"Not so fast, Castiel," said a condescending voice behind Cas. He turned around quickly and, spotting the angel, moved between him and the two brothers."

"Please, as if you could protect them from me. I was already more powerful than you before you pawned off your grace to Metatron."

"I will not allow you to harm them anymore than you already have," Cas said tersely.

"You will not be able to stop me." There was a pause as Azrael seemed to consider something. "I wasn't exactly expecting you to figure out what was going on here, but it looks like you almost didn't figure it out in time, so I suppose I can see that as a small victory." He seemed to relish whatever it was he was seeing in his mind's eye. "You came so close to going through with it, didn't you?"

"Cas, what's he talking about?" asked a worried Dean. He had stayed silent since the angel had arrived, but something about what was being said was setting off alarm bells.

Cas, for the time being, ignored Dean. His attention, and anger, was focused solely on Azrael. "What matters is that you failed to fool me completely and you are now going to perish for your treatment of the Winchesters."

"I think not," the angel said. Fortunately for Castiel, Azrael was too busy tooting his own horn to notice the angel blade falling into Castiel's hand. When the once-angel rushed toward the now-angel, the latter was confidently expecting a desperate charge, so while he did somewhat avoid the blow, he didn't try very hard and was therefore nicked by the blade. He gave an injured yell and looked down in shock at the cut in his side. It was enough distraction for Cas to plunge the blade into his heart, effectively ending him. The angel's first mistake had been his assumption that Cas would not care enough to as hard as necessary to save his friends.

Cas immediately dropped his blade after pulling it out of the angel. Before the blade had hit the ground, Cas was kneeling between the two brothers, greatly concerned for their well-being. "Are you alright?" he asked them.

"No. Does it look like we are?" Dean asked. When Cas gave him a hurt look, Dean quickly amended with, "But we will be. Thanks for helping us out there. Sammy was getting worried we wouldn't survive."

"Shut it, Dean," Sam said. Cas found himself smiling at the perceivably harsh words, despite the situation. The fact that both brothers were acting like their normal, brazen selves bolstered his hope of making it out of the situation in one piece.

"We need to get the two of you out of here. I will drive Dean's car. It is parked out back. Would you like me to take you to the hospital?"

"No," Dean said. "We can handle this at the bunker."

"No," Cas rebutted, "we are not waiting that long. We are several hours away from there. We will find a motel room to stay at until I have administered enough first aid to satisfy me, and then we will go to the bunker."

"I agree with Cas," Sam said. "I mean, I'm just this side of needing a hospital. I can't wait until we get to the bunker to get patched up if it's going to be several hours. That's too long and too painful."

"Fair enough," Dean said begrudgingly. "Let's go."

After they had finally gotten a motel room, Cas discovered that the injuries of the Winchesters did consist of burns, bruises, broken fingers, fractured ribs, cuts, gashes, and whip marks on both boys, and a broken nose on Sam. He patched them up, the entire room in silence except for the occasional harsh intake of air. Once he was satisfied that they were properly taken care of, Cas asked if they would rather stay and rest, or go back to the bunker. To his mild surprise, despite both of them looking exhausted, they wanted to go back to the bunker.

After putting the first aid kit and everything else back into the Impala (Cas had found all the boys' belongings and their bags at the warehouse and had taken them into the motel room with them so that the brothers could change into clothes that weren't in bloody, tattered rags), Cas soon had the three of them on the road once again. Dean had claimed shotgun and was soon asleep on Cas's shoulder, making the angel smile. A glance at the back seat informed him that Sam had laid down and was snoozing as well.

When Cas got to the bunker, it was sometime after midnight. He gently aroused the two brothers and led them inside. Apparently, somehow, they had gotten enough sleep in the car that they had enough energy to talk about the very pressing matter of what had happened. It wasn't long before they were all sitting at the kitchen table with steaming mugs of coffee in front of them. "So the two of you will recover from this?" Cas checked.

"Yeah, I think we will," Sam said.

"Good."

"Listen, Cas, about what I said on the phone. I didn't mean that. I mean, I meant that I love you, and that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, but I don't want what we have to end. I only said that because they had a gun to Sammy's head and they told me that if I said the wrong thing, they'd kill him."

"I know, Dean," Cas said. "I didn't at first, but after I found you I figured it out. All the same, thank you for clarifying that. And I apologize it took me as long as it did to figure out you had been taken."

"Don't worry about it," Sam said quickly. "They were actually pretty smart, and they planned this all out so that you wouldn't know. They wanted you to live the rest of your life in misery thinking Dean never wanted to see you again. This whole thing was a revenge plot. The two shifters wanted to get back at me and Dean for killing their brother, but killing us would have been too easy an end for us. So, the way they tell it, they were going to torture both of us, especially Dean, by having your heart broken, and then physically torture us until the day we died, and they wanted more fire power so they got an angel involved and what he got out of it was you being in pain the rest of your life, because he hates you, and he hates you because he blames you for the fall of the angels."

"I see," Cas said.

Sam looked at Cas and Dean. He was pretty sure they had more they needed to talk about. There was nothing else for him to say tonight. Not to mention he was utterly exhausted despite the coffee he had just finished and his previous energy of five minutes ago. "Well, I'm bushed. I'll see you two whenever we all wake up again. 'Night."

"'Night, Sammy," Dean answered.

"Good night, Sam," Cas said.

Dean looked at Cas. "Let's get to our room," he suggested. Cas nodded and allowed Dean to lead the way.

After entering the room, Cas closed the door. He looked at Dean closely. He was so glad to be seeing the hunter again after so long. He really had missed him.

"What?" Dean asked, having noticed Cas staring at him.

"Nothing," Cas said. When Dean raised a doubtful eyebrow, Cas said, "I just missed you is all."

"I missed you too Cas. And I was worried about you."

"You were worried about me? You were the one who was captured and tortured," Cas said, amazed at the wonder that was Dean Winchester.

"I know, but I knew that they were gonna make me call you and tell you it was over from day one, and I was so scared of how you would react. I knew it would upset you and I just hated that."

"I think I understand," Cas said, and it was true. Whether Dean wanted anyone to realize it or not, he had a pretty soft heart under the tough exterior, especially when it came to his boyfriend - or his brother.

"Well," Dean said after a pause, "I am exhausted, so why don't we hit the sack?"

"Of course," Cas said. He began undressing, as did Dean. Normally Dean would sleep in pants of some kind and no shirt, while Cas slept in a t-shirt and boxers, but tonight they wanted to have as much contact with each other as possible, so without verbal agreement they both stripped down to just boxers before moving to get into the bed.

Cas hadn't thought anything of getting undressed – it was part of a daily routine – until suddenly Dean was grabbing his left arm and turning it so he could get a good look at— Cas cringed. He knew exactly what was happening and all of a sudden he wished he'd never taken off the trench coat. At least he still had the bandage… for now.

Dean had been preparing himself to collapse onto the softest mattress he'd ever slept on when something on Cas's left wrist caught his eye. Exhaustion forgotten, Dean reached forward quickly and took firm hold of Cas's arm with his good hand (only the fingers of his right hand had been messed with and he had a strong enough left hand) before Cas could pull away. There was a bandage there, on the underside of his wrist, and suddenly the cold hand of fear wrapped its fingers around Dean's heart and pushed his stomach down to his toes.

"Cas…?" Dean asked. "Tell me this isn't what I think it is," he pleaded.

Cas couldn't find words to tell Dean. He wouldn't do what Dean was asking, because that would be lying, and he and Dean had promised each other that there would be no secrets or lies between them ever again. He also couldn't tell Dean the truth, because he was afraid of what Dean would do – would he falsely blame himself? Get angry at Cas for being so weak as to come so close to giving up on life? Get angry at him for being stupid enough to believe what Dean had been forced to say to him? Leave him for any of those reasons? He somehow knew Dean would be able to figure out what he had done, but he wouldn't willingly bring that down on himself. So he stayed silent but left his arm limp in Dean's hand and didn't try to fight him.

Sighing, realizing that Cas had decided not to say anything, Dean gently removed the bandage, making a mental note to re-bandage whatever wound this was. Once the bandage was off, Dean took a close look at what had been lurking beneath it. He saw three cuts, going lengthwise up his arm. The third was shorter than the others, and none were deep enough to be severely life-threatening, but they were deep enough that Dean was pretty sure they would scar. The gravity of those cuts suddenly hit Dean, making him feel as if he were going to hit his knees any second. He looked into Cas's bright blue eyes, but those beautiful eyes ran from Dean's, pointing themselves toward the floor, and Dean knew what Cas was feeling in that moment – shame.

"Hey, look at me," Dean said, putting a gentle hand against Cas's cheek. Cas obeyed, but he was so tense it was almost as if Cas was expecting a blow from Dean. "I'm not gonna be mad, but I need you to tell me something. How did these get here?" When Cas remained silent, Dean said, "I need to know. I promise I won't be mad. Just tell me what happened."

Knowing Dean would not relent – not on this topic, not now – Cas took a deep breath before diving into an explanation. "I lost track of time after they made you call me. I barely ate and barely slept. One day, a little less than a week after the call, I woke up on the floor and realized I had just had a dream about you. For some reason that made me feel so desperately hopeless. A weight seemed to settle onto me. I thought of how I would never see you again. I thought of how, as an angel, in heaven, I always had one mission or another I had to take care of. Then, after I rebelled, I had you and your brother. I was either looking out for you, or fighting with you, or doing something with the two of you. Now both the missions of heaven and my time with you and your brother were over. I didn't see how there was anything left for me. I suppose maybe I wasn't thinking clearly in that moment. Or maybe I was. It's all… foggy now. Well, regardless of what was going on inside my head, I went over to my bag and took out a knife. I began cutting along my wrist with the intention of going over it deeper later on, in order to end my life. I was on the third cut when I thought of how odd the whole situation was. That was when I got suspicious and decided to track your phone just in case you were actually in danger." Deciding he had supplied sufficient information, Cas stopped.

Dean took a deep, shuddering breath after hearing Cas explain this. Cas had been minutes away from killing himself. Surprisingly enough, Dean didn't blame himself, for once. The only ones he blamed were the monsters who had done this to them all.

Apparently, Cas took Dean's silence as a bad sign, or maybe he just broke down. Either way, he started sobbing. Dean had only seen Cas cry on very few occasions, and every time it made him hurt for the man, deep down inside. Knowing just what was needed, Dean moved forward and wrapped his arms around the smaller man. Cas instinctively leaned into Dean, allowing the taller man to hold him. Dean whispered soothing words into Cas's ears. "Hey, it's ok. It's gonna be ok, babe. I'm right here and I'm not going to leave you. I love you, Cas, and I always will. That will never change. Not ever. Shhh."

They stood there in the middle of the bedroom for a time. Neither knew how long it was. Finally Cas had cried himself dry and he pulled away from Dean just enough to look into his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, so quietly that Dean barely heard it.

"No, don't ever be sorry for this, or anything that has happened over the last month," Dean said firmly.

"So you don't hate me?" Cas asked, looking up at Dean with wide blue eyes that almost reminded Dean of a five year old kid in that moment.

"No. I could never hate you. I love you way too much for that. I'm upset that you were in a place dark enough to do this to yourself, but I don't blame you for it any more than I blame you for me and Sam getting taken. I'm just glad you didn't go through with this," Dean gestured to Cas's wrist, "and that you found us when you did. Do you understand, I mean really understand?"

"Yeah, I think so," Cas said. "Thanks Dean."

"For what?" Dean asked, unsure.

"For being so incredible," Cas said with sheer honesty in his eyes.

"Don't mention it. It just comes naturally." After a pause, Dean said more seriously, "Promise me something…"

"Anything," Cas said.

"Promise me that you will never hurt yourself like this again. I don't know if this is something that just came up out of the blue because of that call I had to make, or if you've thought about doing it before and this tipped you over the edge, but if for whatever reason you ever feel like you want to do this again, tell me, ok? I don't care what I'm doing or if I'm with you or not, but you get in touch with me and you talk to me, got it?" Dean had to keep his voice from shaking as he said the words.

Cas nodded. "I had thought of hurting myself before, but I had never crossed that line, and as you said, this 'tipped me over the edge'. If I ever do feel like I wish to do this again, I will contact you."

"Alright, now that that's settled, let's get this bandaged up again and get to bed." Dean took out the first aid kit that he kept in his duffle and sat Cas down on the bed before sitting beside him. After providing the necessary first aid, Dean put the kit away before laying back on the bed beside Cas. He pulled the covers over them both before wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. All three inhabitants of the bunker slept better that night than they had in a month.

AN: I hope you enjoyed the final chapter. The epilogue is coming soon! I've already written it so expect it in the next week. Reviews are the best! I need to know how I'm doing! Just to throw this out there, if you ever want a good song to make you cry (this kind of stems off of this chapter), look up 'Why' by Rascal Flatts. It doesn't have much of a happy ending (it does, but it doesn't) so if you want something to make you feel better, look up 'Sound the Bugle' by Bryan Adams. It has a happy ending. Not to spoil anything. I guess that's all I have to say, and it only took close to 4,000 words. :)