Dean squeezed Castiel a little harder before releasing him. Castiel was in awe with how that human gesture affected their bridge. Even after Dean had taken his arms away from Castiel, the bridge was strong, alive. He looked around. They were both on Chuck's kitchen floor. "I still can't believe you're alive, Cas. Even Zachariah left you for dead. That dick, I sent him into next Tuesday. For killing you."
"Next Tuesday?" Castiel asked, confused. "How did you do that?"
"I did that mojo thing with the blood on wall. You know, that you taught me."
"Oh. You didn't really mean next Tuesday. You sent him back to the angel realm."
Dean laughed heartily. "Oh yeah, I sent him back to somewhere alright. You shoulda seen the look on his face. Priceless. We could make a Mastercard commercial out of it." Then he frowned. "I wish he would stay there. We probably have to worry now about Zachariah getting wind of the fact that you are alive."
"Probably, yes," Castiel said quietly. He noted to himself that he knew that a Mastercard was a credit card, but he had no idea why Zachariah's face would make a good commercial for it. Dean often said things that Castiel didn't completely understand. He tried to get up off the floor. He felt very disoriented. He saw there was broken glass around him. A minefield for human skin. He tried to find a spot where he could safely set down his hand to steady himself. And then realized it was a rather odd thought for him to have. To feel concern for his human skin.
"Are you hurt? Can you get up?" Dean offered Castiel a hand, stood up himself.
Castiel took the hand and slowly stood up. "Yes, I do feel some pain," he told Dean matter of factly, and willed the small aches and pains to go away. He expected the aches to whittle away until they were down to nothing, yet they kept him company none the less.
Once standing up, he willed them to go away again. They did not retreat.
"Cas, what's wrong?" Dean asked. Dean was reaching through Castiel with his eyes. Dean seemed to know what was on Castiel's mind without Castiel speaking of it. Was this part of having a bridge between them, or Castiel's face an open book? Probably the later, Castiel thought.
"My injuries are not healing," He told Dean. "I think I need to sit down."
Dean hadn't let go of Castiel's hand. Dean led Castiel to Chuck's couch. Castiel suddenly became aware that Chuck and Sam were in the room as well. He nodded to them, said hello to them.
Once Dean had Castiel sitting down comfortably, Dean paced around the room. "You're telling me your angel mojo is gone?"
Castiel could feel pain in all his muscles, it seemed. "I can't heal myself," he said. He tried to do other things angels could do. He attempted to appear in the chair across the room. His body stayed firmly on the couch.
"Hmm, I can't transport myself anywhere either," he said, careful to keep the rising panic out of his voice. He didn't want to upset Dean.
"Maybe you're too disoriented right now," Sam suggested.
"Yeah, well maybe Zachariah's messed with you, took your angelhood away or something," Dean said.
"No," Castiel said. "This doesn't make sense. Zachariah would just have me dead."
"You got that right. That smug dick, I just wanted to slap that grin off his face. Was talking like your death was nothing more than a little mess he had to clean up. Bastard." Then he looked down. "Sorry Cas. I shouldn't have said that with you in the room. You didn't need to hear that."
"Right now, I don't think I mind if you slap Zachariah," Castiel said. Sam and Chuck laughed.
"No, I was talking about – you didn't need to hear that Zachariah wasn't giving a rat's ass about you. Except now I'm saying it again, dammit."
"Oh." Castiel said. "Well, don't worry, Zachariah's lack of empathy for me is the least of my worries. Making sure he doesn't send the archangel back to kill me is my main concern right now. For whatever reason, I am still alive, but this may not last long. And I fear for your safety as well." He looked at Sam and Dean. "If either of you try to interfere with the Archangel, you will be killed."
"Maybe we should get out of here, since the Archangel likes to hang around Chuck," Dean suggested.
"That's probably a good idea. Although I don't know how long I can run from a garrison of angels."
Sam offered to help Chuck tape a tarp over his kitchen window before they left. Dean swept up the glass. Castiel liked observing humankind helping one another. It seemed to bring more purpose in their lives. He imagined it helped reinforce bridges between them. He could only sense the one between himself and Dean, though. He could still feel it, even with Dean in the kitchen, sweeping. Was Dean thinking of Castiel as Castiel was thinking of him?
Castiel felt a tinge of regret for asking Dean what was so worth saving. Looking back at the conversation, it seemed an ignorant thing to say, now. Not that the pain and suffering that humans felt were washed away from his consciousness. He could actually still feel Dean's emotions – agitation, some fear. They darkened his experience. This would be something worth losing, Castiel thought. But then he could also feel relief, and even joy, from Dean. This must be because Castiel was alive. Castiel felt immense gladness that Dean cared that much about him. This was worth saving. But how did humans deal with all the badness in life? He felt he still had much to understand.
Castiel also thought of what was happening to him. Dean had said his angel 'mojo' was gone. Was it possible he had lost his grace? He tried to perceive the angel realm. Light began to percolate through the physical objects in the room – Chuck's table with papers, a green-shaded lamp on another table, the curtains over the windows, they all brightened until Castiel perceived pure light all around him. He could see the angel realm. He left before anyone would notice him. And wondered why many of his abilities were gone, while he could still go to the angel realm, and could also sense Dean's emotions.
He felt – fear. He couldn't go ask the angels what was happening to him. There would be no seeking revelation and getting guidance or answers. He was going to have to face this odd situation alone.
Except, he had Dean and Sam. The blind leading the blind, he thought. Yet, there was a certain comfort to that arrangement, something he never felt as an angel. Angels didn't have problems that needed to be solved – well, until Uriel started killing angels. Usually, angels were solving human problems, not their own.
Finished with the kitchen, Dean helped Castiel out to the car and they drove to a motel. Castiel thought about time again. Humans needed to move through it in a certain way. They had to take the time to get from one place to another in their cars, or on foot. Thinking of time reminded him of what he had been trying to do earlier.
"Dean. Did you stop Sam. Or is Lucifer free?"
Dean looked at the rear-view mirror, making eye contact with Castiel. "Lucifer is free," he said grimly.
"Then there is much work to be done," Castiel said.
In the motel room, Castiel felt the urge to lie down on the bed, and told Dean about it. Dean told him to "knock yourself out" and so Castiel set his body on the bed, head on the pillow, and closed his eyes.
Castiel had never lost consciousness before today. Angels were eternally awake. They saw human dreaming and sleeping as a curious thing. Humans liked to make more out of the dreams than were really there. Humans liked to sleep, because they could take a break from their problems. Castiel thought that sounded inviting right now. He wanted a break from the pain in his muscles and the fear that hadn't left him. Would he be able to fall asleep? Would he be alive later, or would the Archangel finish him off?
Castiel drifted off to sleep, his last memory before waking up again being laughter on the television in the room. When he woke up, his pains had lessened, although they were still there.
Dean and Sam had been talking quietly, and they stopped when they saw Castiel pull his head up. "Did you sleep?" Dean asked.
"Yes. I was unconscious for awhile."
"Angels don't sleep, do they?" Dean asked.
"No."
"Does this mean – you're not an angel anymore?" Dean voice was sharp, concerned.
Castiel tried to see the angel realm again. The room became white as a screen, and he saw Zachariah looking at him, still unable to enter his favorite vessel, the one Dean and Sam were familiar with. The sigil Dean had used was still affecting him, Castiel could see that clearly. Castiel went back to the human realm.
"I can still see the angel realm, and I saw Zachariah looking at me," Castiel announced.
"So, you're still an angel," Dean said. "I guess that's good, but, aren't you supposed to be a goner? What's going to happen to you when Zachariah can come back here?"
Castiel tried to heal his aches again. Nothing happened. He tried to transport to the other bed. Nothing. "I don't know. We will find out when that time comes. I can't heal myself or transport. I feel, limited, like a dim light bulb or something. Not a full-strength angel."
"I wonder if there is anything we can even do to protect him?" Sam said. "And if the Archangel already worked at him, but wasn't successful, does that mean Castiel isn't supposed to die? I mean, think about it. An Archangel is pretty badass."
"Hell if I know," Dean said. "About how to protect him. And I'm the one who's supposed to be ganking Lucifer too. Might as well make me president of the fucking world, while we're at it."
Dean's cell phone rang. "It's Bobby," he said after observing the caller ID.
"Hey, Bobby, what's up?" Dean said.
"The apocalypse, that's what's up," Bobby said. "I take it Lucifer was let out of the bag?"
"Yeah, he was fried and crispy, slow cooked to perfection," Dean joked. Then, more seriously, "This is it, Bobby. What are we going to do?" He filled Bobby in on several details, including the fact that Castiel was still alive, but broken somehow.
Dean spoke to Bobby for a few more minutes, and then hung up. "He's coming over. He knew that the apocalypse had started. He said the sky got darker two hours earlier than normal. I didn't even notice. He also said weird things are happening all over the world. Bad things. A lot of babies died in a hospital in New Jersey out of the blue, Mt. Rainier in Washington blew its top and now the whole city of Seattle is covered in ash and lava, and several priests were killed around the United States at the time we saw Lucifer starting to emerge."
"Holy Shit. Lucifer likes to go out with a bang," Sam said.
"Yeah, well, this is only the beginning," Dean said. He sat down and looked at Castiel in the other bed. "You said you could see Zachariah over there, were you able to hear him talk to anyone?"
"I probably could, but I didn't stay long enough for that," Castiel said. "I think I should go talk to him myself. Find out why I'm alive. I don't like sitting here wondering. If I don't see you two again, good luck in stopping Lucifer. I have faith in you Dean."
Dean looked sad. "Hey, try to come back, okay? You're the one angel I can count on anymore."
Dean was terrified the bridge was breaking, Castiel sensed from him. He'd already seen Castiel die once today, and was afraid he'd witness it again. "I'll try," Castiel said, even though he didn't have high hopes. He wished he had something more encouraging to say.
Dean's face was the last thing he saw before the whiteness of the angel realm encircled and absorbed it.