The ensuing silence was profound. It seemed to amplify the creaking of the barn door as the wind tugged at it. Dean could only stare at Castiel as the angel turned away, one hand going to his right shoulder, his fingers gripping the material of his shirt tightly. He braced himself against the car with his other hand. His whole body trembled. After a moment his head bowed, and Dean could hear muffled sobbing. Yet another indicator of just how human Castiel had become.

Dean was compelled to lay a hand on him, to give him some comfort. He swallowed past the lump his throat, tried to speak, could not. What he just learned kept him spellbound. Numb.

"He promised," Cas murmured. He slammed his hand on the hood, startling Dean. When Cas turned round, he got a good look at the anguish in his face. He drew in a sharp breath. This was a Castiel he wasn't used to. Raw, powerful emotions shone from those red-rimmed eyes. Seeing him this way was as upsetting as it was shocking.

"He promised," Cas repeated, more forcefully this time. There was anger and hurt in his voice, not unlike their meeting in the dressing room. "And he let Michael talk him into it. After all we had been through, all he had said to me and to Sam."

"Did you try to call Michael?" Dean asked in soft tones.

"Dozens of times," Cas answered sharply. He strode away from Dean now, his grip tight on the neck of the beer bottle. "I screamed for him, over and over. None of it did any good. I was cut off from Heaven. Powerless, hapless, hopeless. I had nothing."

The recital abruptly brought forth a memory of another Castiel Dean had met, one also transformed by post-Apocalyptic events. As he watched Cas pace in front of the Impala, he despaired over how both their Deans had failed them. Knew he didn't want to count himself among them. Not when he could do something about it.

"Nothing? Cas, you know better than that," he pointed out gruffly. "They told me you blew town after dropping Sam off at Bobby's. Why didn't you stay? Why didn't you help my brother?"

"Because I wasn't strong enough, Dean," Cas replied wearily. "I could be of no help to Sam, or anyone. So I left."

"Don't give me that," he told him. "You ran."

Cas sent him a sharp glance. "What?"

"Yeah, you heard me." Dean stepped closer to him. He stared into Cas's bloodshot eyes, saw the pain and regret shadowing them. "So he said yes. So he betrayed his word. I get you're angry. Hell I'd be pissed too. But do you know what Michael promised him?"

"What does that matter?"

"Everything!" Dean's voice echoed sharply in the barn. "You said Michael threatened you all. The way I see it, Dean agreed because he was keeping his promise. And instead of trying to find a way to get him back or forgive him for it, you're here with Crowley. How is that any better than what he did?"

"You don't understand!" Cas shot back. Tears had formed in his eyes, and for a moment Dean glimpsed just how broken the angel was. "Do you know what it's like?" he asked in ragged tones. "To have discovered something so wonderful, only to lose it and nothing, nothing, you can do or say will make the ache go away?"

The passion behind the question hit him like a fist to the gut. Dean licked his lips, drew in a deep breath. All he could think about was sitting up night after night, praying to Cas, begging him to give him a message, or appear. Anything to give him peace of mind.

Castiel gave a sad, fragile smile and moved past him for the cooler. "That's why I made the deal. I wanted to bring Michael here so I could set Dean free. I was starting to lose hope of it ever happening. A part of me doesn't want him to see what I've become," he confessed.

Dean could only nod. In this, their opinions were shared.

Cas paused to gather his composure. "And your Castiel?" he asked, leaning over to pick up another bottle. "He's lost to you?"

Dean snapped back to reality. "Why do you think that?"

Cas turned to face him, looking far more drained than before. "Because I can see it in your eyes. Because despite what you say about what I've done, you wouldn't do any less." He studied him for a moment, head tilted. "Does he know?"

"Know what?"

Cas's smile was wan. "I thought not."

Dean shook his head at the cryptic comment and pressed on. "You're better than this, Cas," he remarked, watching as the angel pulled open the back door and sat down. "Working with Crowley? Come on."

Cas slumped in the seat, head bowed as he held the beer bottle between his thighs. Dean leaned over the opening, watching, waiting.

"Okay. Fill me in. What's with the call girl routine?"

A bitter smile tugged at Cas's lips. "A stipulation of my contract. I tag souls for Crowley by any means necessary. Sometimes I just spend an hour or so talking to clients. Other times it's just sex. There are the demons that find intense stimulation when I attempt to smite them, there are the ghouls that like to take a piece or two from me." He showed the inside of his right arm, revealing bite marks. "And every one of them enjoys taking advantage of this vessel's flexibility. Dean did too."

"Right. Of course he did," Dean commented, glad Cas's head was bowed so he didn't see his tight smile. "And the play?"

"Crowley's idea," Cas responded with a shake of the head. "He likes to let everyone know what helped him get to where he is now. Tweaking the noses of Lucifer's supporters, I suppose."

"He still has some?"

"Most of them are dead. The ones left are either in Hell or here."

Dean nodded. "I get it. So what did Crowley want from you for this deal? Angels don't have souls."

Cas twisted open the beer, tossed the cap onto the floor. It clattered among the others already littered there. "I gave him half my Grace."

This statement caused Dean's brows to lift. "But I thought your mojo was drained."

"It regenerated slowly. By the time I decided on this course I had more than enough for the agreement. I can still use some of my powers, but I'm nowhere near as strong as I could be."

Dean turned away, his hand at his mouth. He stared at the wall, the demon wards painted all over it. He was briefly reminded of the very first time he saw Castiel, pushed back the hollow ache in his chest. "Crowley got you for ten years, right?"

"Yes."

"And what happens after it's over?"

"I don't know. Unless I die before my time is up, if and when I see Michael again."

Dean sent him a curious glance. "I thought you said you couldn't see him."

Castiel looked up at him. "There's a rumor that the angels are going to come here. Never before has Heaven sent envoys to Purgatory. No one knows why, either. It's my hope that Michael will be among them. I'll approach him, we'll have words and he'll kill me. Yes," he added with another bitter smile. "That's how it will happen. How I want it to happen."

Dean had to look away from the resignation in Cas's eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets, a muscle working in his cheek as he went over the facts. This hollow, fatalistic Castiel was as different from the one he knew as could be, but the truth was it still hurt to see him like this. Especially because he feared finding his friend in a similar, defeated mindset.

"Who says you have to die when you see Michael again?" Dean murmured. At feeling Cas's eyes on him he turned and nodded, a slight smile touching his lips. "You want to get that son of a bitch out of Dean, don't you?"

Cas's throat flashed as he swallowed. "Yes," he whispered.

"Then let's figure it out. You, me, Sammy, and the rest, because I'll be damned if those flying monkeys get away with screwing the people I care about."

For some moments Cas simply stared up at Dean, as if unable or unwilling to believe his statement. Then the shadows retreated from his face, and he gave Dean such a warm, endearing smile he was actually embarrassed.

He extended his hand. "Come on, buddy. Looking at you like this is depressing the hell out of me."

Castiel laughed softly and gripped Dean's hand, allowing him to assist him to his feet. Before Dean turned away Cas touched his shoulder. He looked into the angel's eyes, felt his breath catch at the warmth, admiration, and affection he saw.

"Thank you," he murmured. "For everything."

It took a moment for Dean to regain his composure, for that look had undone something within him, and he managed a half smile. "Let's wait until things are back to normal- or about as normal as they can get here- before you start thanking me." He slung a companionable arm about Cas's shoulders and started for the doors. "Now we just gotta get back to Bobby's and-"

"I can't go any further than this barn, Dean."

He sent him a surprised glance. "What do you mean? Crowley got this place surrounded by holy fire or something?"

"In a manner of speaking," Cas replied. "The contract I signed also placed a binding spell on me. I'm not strong enough to break free."

Dean frowned. Typical Crowley. Then again, it looked like he was making a killing with Cas's 'talents'; it only made sense to keep him on a leash.

"Is there anything that can break it?"

Cas bowed his head. "If I was at full power I could. I'd need the half he's holding."

"All right then," Dean stated with a smile. "We just gotta get it back."

"How? Ah," Cas amended with a thoughtful nod. "You're going to steal it."

"You got it. We're gonna need some help, though." He reached for his pocket, fully expecting to find his phone. When he grasped nothing he scowled. "Dammit. You got a phone, Cas? Don't think calling for Gabriel will-"

"Oh ye of little faith," Gabriel announced, and Dean whirled round. The archangel leaned against the barn door, smiling like he always did. "Oh, to that obvious confusion on your face," he went on, gesturing toward Dean. "Sammy had me keep an ear out for you, just in case. So, did you two kiss and make up, or is this a bad time? Seeing as to how you're so difficult to see without an appointment," he said, directing the remark at Castiel. There was something in his tone that bordered on disapproval.

He stiffened a little, looking more like the Castiel Dean knew. "You don't have any right to judge my actions, brother. I did what I felt I had to, just as you did."

The skin tightened around Gabriel's eyes, the only indicator that Cas had scored a hit. But then he gave a smooth smile. "Fair enough. I assume you called for me because you got Cas to help us with our plan?"

"Yeah, about that," Dean commented, a brow lifted. "What's the plan?"

To this Gabriel looked intrigued. "What? I didn't tell you? I thought asking about my horn would have been a clue. But then I remembered which Winchester I was talking to."

Before Dean could retort Cas gave a small sound of surprise.

Gabriel pointed at him. "See? He gets it."

"What?" Dean demanded irritably.

"He means to sound the horn," Cas said quietly. He met Dean's questioning gaze. "Doing so will bring about the end of the world."

Dean's eyes widened, and he shot Gabriel a swift look. His heart hammered in his chest. "You wanna start another Apocalypse?"

"Not me, Dean," he responded with another smile. "Sam."

"The Apocalypse."

Sam sat on the hood of the Impala, watching Dean pace back and forth. Every now and then he glanced at the doors where Gabriel and Castiel waited outside.

"The Apocalypse, Sam," Dean repeated sharply, and Sam's gaze went to him. "What the hell are you thinking? Didn't one Apocalypse screw this place over? Why kick start another?"

"I know you think it's crazy-"

"Damn right I do!"

Sam made a helpless gesture. "But look at it. It's not right. And, and with the angels letting you go it's time to do something about it. Fix it, like we were supposed to."

At this Dean halted mid-pace. "What?"

"You remember, don't you, Dean?" Sam managed, his voice wrought with emotion. His lower lip trembled, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. "I was going to trap Lucifer in the cage. I couldn't do it at first because he was too strong, but I wasn't giving up. I fought him tooth and nail, just like Bobby told me. But something went wrong. I failed."

Dean had to avert his gaze, unable to look at Sam's distress. It hardly mattered it hadn't been his actions that resulted in this world; the guilt, the shame, haunted him.

"No, Sam," he murmured. "You didn't fail. You didn't," he repeated at seeing Sam shake his head in his peripheral. He heaved a sigh. "There's something you should know about me, Sammy. I'm not...I'm not your brother."

Sam furrowed his brow. "What? Dean, don't joke about that," he chided.

Dean shook his head, offered a sad, helpless smile. "I wish I was joking," he said, then proceeded to explain. Sam listened, wide-eyed and silent but for the little intakes of breath as the truth sunk in. When Dean finished he ventured for the cooler, flipped it open and withdrew the last two beers. As he turned to present one to Sam, he glimpsed Gabriel peering through the doors. His expression was unlike anything Dean had ever seen on him, not even when he defended Kali against Lucifer.

Sam wrung his hands between his knees. Again Dean couldn't get over how vulnerable he looked. "...all that- it's true, huh?"

Dean twisted the cap off. "Yeah," he said softly. He offered it to Sam. There was some hesitation before he accepted it. "I'm sorry, Sam. That son of a bitch Michael's still got his hands on your brother."

Sam's nod was almost imperceptible. He took a small sip, lowered the bottle to rest at his knee. He tapped the opening with a finger. "Then we have to get him back. He'd do the same for me. You'll help, won't you?" he asked. "I know it's not your world and all but-"

Dean smiled, laid a hand on Sam's shoulder, gave it a little shake. "There's no way in hell I'm blowing this popsicle stand without sorting things out. I can't leave you and Cas like this. I won't."

When Sam smiled, tears rolled down his cheeks. He hopped off the hood to draw Dean into his arms. They held fast to one another, Dean patting his pack as he murmured reassuring words. After a time he drew back to inspect Sam's face. He nodded to his questions, wiped at his eyes. Gabriel and Castiel returned, the former heading directly for Sam. As Gabriel drew him to the side Dean looked to Cas. He watched him with a mixture of joy and wistfulness.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," Cas said, smiling sadly. "I was just reminded of something he said to us, once. That same spark is in your eyes. It's like I can believe anything."

Dean laughed a little to cover his embarrassment. "Well, we still gotta find out if it's really Michael that's going to visit."

"Balthazar was the one who told me. He has promised to keep an eye out."

"Good ol' Balthazar," Gabriel remarked as he joined them, Sam at his side. "Did he happen to tell you where my horn is?"

"I do not know its whereabouts, but I will ask him about it. I can't promise it will be recovered soon," Cas explained.

"Then maybe I should have a talk with him." There was a glint in Gabriel's eye. It faded when Sam squeezed his shoulder. Once again he smiled, as nonchalant as ever. "Okay, kids. What's the plan then? We can't do anything if we don't have the horn or a way to send Michael back to Heaven."

"You guys head back to Bobby's and fill them in on what's happening. Leave the rest to us," Dean said, nodding to Cas. He smiled, softly.

"What are you going to do?" Sam asked, worry creasing his brow.

To this Dean smiled. "I'm going to Purgatory. Crowley's got something of Cas's that he needs back if this plan is gonna work. And we need to get Balthazar on our side."

Gabriel saluted them. "Good luck with all that. Until tomorrow night, boys. Let's go, Sammy," he said, reaching out to circle him by the waist. Sam let out a little surprised sound when Gabriel slapped him on the ass before he grinned and snapped his fingers.

After they had gone Dean looked to Cas. He nodded, and without a word touched his shoulder. They vanished in an instant.

They reappeared in Castiel's room at the club. Dean cast a wary glance about as he stepped further in. "Is it secure here?"

"Yes." Castiel watched Dean peer into the bathroom, the walk-in closets and free standing wardrobe by the door. When he spoke his name Dean turned. "It's not going to be easy to steal my Grace back. Even I don't know where he keeps it."

"Knowing Crowley, it's in his office or something." There was a brief pause. "He has an office, right?"

"On the top floor. I don't know where. He most likely has it concealed and protected from angels."

"Good thing I'm not an angel then," Dean remarked, a glimmer of humor in his tone. Cas smiled, recalled his Dean responding in similar fashion and felt the ache of missing him all the more.

After Dean had made a successful sweep of the rooms he started for the bed, checked himself at the last moment and sat on the sofa instead. As he tipped his head back Cas became aware of how weary he was.

"When was the last time you slept?" he questioned, coming round to stand behind the sofa.

Dean's laugh was brittle. "You know what? I honestly can't remember. Just running on empty this whole time," he explained, rubbing at his neck.

Cas didn't miss the pained wince. He was reaching for him before he even realized what he was doing. At his touch Dean started, but did not draw away.

"You can still heal? Oh," he said, seemingly surprised by his own reaction as Cas started to massage his neck. Little by little, his shoulders relaxed. "Hey, that's actually...um. Nice."

"I've learned a few things during my time here," Cas explained quietly. Already he could feel the knots smoothing away beneath his administrations. Dean made a soft sound of acknowledgment.

Cas's hands swept up and down the length of his neck, his fingers brushing against the back of his head to feel the softness of his hair. Dean had started to lean into the massage, his eyes closed and a look of contentment on his face. It took all of Cas's restraint not to lean over and nuzzle his brow, plant a kiss on the top of his head.

After a time Cas lowered his hands. He could still feel the warmth of Dean's skin on the underside of his palms, curled his hands into fists to hold onto it.

"Is that better?"

"Yeah, thanks," Dean said with a wide grin as he flexed his neck, rolled his shoulders. He turned on the sofa, bringing first one leg up, then the other, yawned as he leaned back. "Figure there's time to grab forty winks?" he questioned, his voice already drowsy.

"All right. I will wake you before Balthazar arrives," Cas promised, though he wasn't sure Dean heard him. It seemed the moment his head hit the arm rest he was out cold. A few seconds later he started to snore, very softly.

Castiel gazed down at him, his heart heavy with sorrow and regret at recalling how long it'd been since he last saw his Dean asleep. The last time he woke up next to him. With a sigh, he circled the couch and made not for the bed, but the nearby chair. There he sat down, his arms wrapped around his upright knees as he settled in to keep watch over Dean. When the memories started to unfold in his mind, he didn't stop them.