BAM!

Dean hit the solid wood above him and stumbled back down the steps, massaging his aching shoulder as he backed away before running full pelt at the bolted doors again.

BAM!

"Dean, it's not working." Sam sighed in exasperation from his spot on the floor, watching helplessly as the hunter staggered past him for what felt like the hundredth time.

His comment was completely ignored, however, as Dean flung himself full force at the chained doors once again. There was no change though, they remained as tightly bolted as ever. Releasing a pent up growl that resonated in his throat, Dean backed away yet again. They'd already been stuck there for far too long – John's gang of hunters had to at least be approaching the castle by now.

"Dean, you're only hurting yourself. It's no use."

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean snapped impatiently, turning to face the only other door in the cellar; the one that connected it to the rest of the cottage. He'd tried kicking it in and had almost broken his foot in the process – John must have placed something very heavy in front of it to prevent Dean doing what he'd attempted. Would it be easier to shove his way through that instead? "I told you, we need to get out of here!"

"I get he's your friend and everything, but why are you trying so hard?"

The question made Dean freeze, made something in his chest lock. Yes, there were still times the venomous memories of what Castiel had done made him want to scream at the angel, ask him just what the hell he had been thinking to betray them like that, betray him like that. But at the end of the day, Cas was still Cas. He had always been there ever since he'd crashed into the Winchester's lives, and Dean sure as hell wasn't leaving him for dead in this screwed up reality.

"Because he's family." He finally ground out.

"Oh, please."

Sam jumped to his feet as the familiar voice rang out in the silence. Dean meanwhile had completely paled and spun on the spot to stare behind him, but saw only the cold brick wall of the cellar. His heart hammered in his chest as he whirled around again, eyes scanning the whole of the cellar, wishing he had any form of weapon to hand. Because he'd long since learned that letting Gabriel sneak up on him wasn't a bright idea. But the cellar was as barren of life as it had been moments before, the only exception being Sam, whose eyes were also darting in every direction.

"Stop moving, jackass, and give me a chance to get out!"

Dean promptly became motionless, staring down at himself instead. And as he watched, he felt something move against his hip before his jacket and shirt visibly shook. A moment later his jacket was pulled aside to reveal Gabriel, hair standing up on end and looking thoroughly disgruntled. His tiny hands gripped the edge of Dean's jacket as he wriggled to free his wings. After a moment or two he finally came fully free and fluttered up into the space between Dean and Sam, where he stretched his limbs.

"Thanks for the ride, Deano. Think I prefer my way of travel, though."

"What are you doing here?" Dean demanded.

"I hitched a ride just before you left." He explained simply, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning heavily down at the hunter. "Couldn't believe you'd just run out on Castiel like that," He shot Sam a disapproving glance. "Especially since it's abundantly clear that Sammy's fine."

Dean's temper boiled to the degree only Gabriel could reach. "You think I'm still here by choice?! Didn't you hear what was going on?!"

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "Everything's a tad muffled under all those layers. And with all your moving about I only got a chance to scramble out when you finally stayed still. Why? What'd I miss?"

"We're trapped down here! And now a bunch of hunters are heading to Cas right now!"

His words rang in the stony silence that descended upon them all; the only movement was Sam ducking his head, puppy eyes gleaming with guilt and shame. Gabriel didn't move a muscle other than his wings which continued to flutter rapidly behind him, but his eyes had suddenly gone from warm amber to steely bronze. Without a word, he spun in the air and zoomed to the doors, pressing the palms of his hands against them.

"I'd look away if I were you."

It wasn't a suggestion, it was an order. And Dean had had enough experience with angels to obey instantly. The next moment there was a colossal BOOM that seemed to shake the walls around them as the doors were blown backwards right off their hinges, flying high into the air and landing in splintered ruin somewhere in the snow above. Dean clambered up the steps and into the freezing air, Sam right on his heels, Gabriel hovering by his shoulder. Rain was hammering down in a seemingly endless sheet, the clouds above black and stormy.

"Stay here, Sammy." Dean commanded as Gabriel took hold of his jacket. He made to reach out for Sam too, but Dean's words made him hesitate. "It's way too dangerous."

At once a squawk of outrage answered. "No way! It's my fault Dad found out how to get to the castle, so I'm helping!" As Sam spoke, he reached his hand out to Gabriel too.

"Gabriel, get us out of here, now!" Dean shouted, slipping backwards away from Sam's outstretched fingers.

To his amazement the pixie-sized archangel obeyed instantly, and Dean had only a moment to close his eyes before the ground vanished from beneath his feet, the rushing wind drowning out Sam's yell.

John kicked the door in, swinging his loaded crossbow up to point into the room beyond, deaf to the bangs and crashes echoing from far below. The room was utterly devoid of anything living; only broken furniture and one fully standing table just before a set of stone steps. He was about to continue on his way when the curtain covering a window shifted, drawing his eye back to the table and something else caught his attention.

Keeping his bow loaded just in case, John slipped into the room and hurried to the table. A jar sat perched on its surface, and inside floated a glowing red rose, most petals of which covered the glass floor. He had just reached out to touch it when the object next to the bizarre flower caught his eye. A long, gleaming silver blade lay on the table, its point lethal and razor sharp. John took one look at his crossbow, before snatching the impressive knife up and slipping it into his belt. Then, straightening his arrow, he ran from the room and continued down the hall.

As he neared the staircase once more, a massive explosion sounded from somewhere beneath him, followed closely by a handful of yells. John gritted his teeth together as he picked another passage at random and continued on his hunt. What sort of coward was this thing that it would send its little minions out to fight rather than face them itself? What if it had fled the second he and his hunters had descended on its castle? Well, no matter. This thing had targeted his family by brainwashing both of his sons; he wouldn't rest until it died.

But luck, it seemed, was on his side.

Halfway down his chosen corridor was an ornate set of double doors, one of which was slightly ajar. It was the first sign of life he'd seen lurking in the upper floors of the castle. John pressed himself against the doorframe, his weapon pointed at the floor as he peered into the room. It was a huge library, books looming down from every spare inch of space, but it was the creature at the far end of the room that immediately caught his attention. A figure dressed in tan stood before one of the enormous windows, entirely human in appearance save for the black wings extended from its back which were curled around its body.

As silently as possible, John inched his way around the door, his arrow now trained on the beast, his footsteps muffled by the continued chaos from the floors beneath. As he grew closer his eyes raked the beast's lean body. He could see no weapon, nor anything that appeared particularly threatening about the thing, but anything could have been hidden underneath its strange clothing. Scowling in fury, he stepped out from his hiding place.

The thing finally turned around, and John could practically feel the intensity of its blue eyes. He immediately turned his gaze to its chest instead; maybe its stare were how it ensnared its prey.

"John Winchester." The thing said in an uncommonly deep voice, and John couldn't help it; he glanced back up to its eyes. And.. Was that pity he could see in its expression? There was something else as well that John could have sworn was a glimmer of respect, but there was no hint of fear whatsoever. It enraged him. "I've heard much about you."

John didn't reply. Instead, he quickly shifted his crossbow's aim from the thing's chest and released the arrow.

Dean stumbled as his feet hit solid floor again, and had to take a moment to take in what he was seeing. The castle entrance hall, which before had been so desolate and lonely, was in a state of utter bedlam.

Marble chunks had been blown out of the stairs, and parts of the carpet had holes singed in them, some of which were still smoking gently. What furniture had decorated the room was now in pieces all over the place; a table leg was even sticking out from a crack in the wall where it had been lodged. All around men were wielding pickaxes and small knives, slicing through the air randomly at the tiny buzzing shapes that were Castiel's angels which seemed to move too quickly for them to land a blow. The air was thick with noise and flashes of light which seemed to be coming solely from Raphael. He was whizzing through the air after a couple of hunters, electrical sparks shooting from his outstretched palms.

"Gabriel, stay here and help! I'm gonna look for Cas!"

"Last I saw, he was still in the library," Gabriel replied before zooming out of sight.

Dean was halfway up the steps when a huge explosion went off in the general direction Gabriel had just vanished off into, and he had to grab the hand rail in order to stay upright as the ground rumbled beneath his boots. A moment later a door on the landing above Dean was blasted off its hinges and a group of hunters hurtled past him, their weapons zooming through the air after them in hot pursuit. Balthazar appeared a second afterwards, looking thoroughly satisfied, barely sparing Dean a glance as he flew after them.

The angels were holding their own, it seemed. But there was still one specific hunter he'd yet to spot, and that realisation left him feeling cold. He bolted up the rest of the steps three at a time and burst through the broken doorway the hunters had used, sprinting flat out down the passageway and up the stairs at the far end. It was halfway up the flight that he heard a sound that drove an icy wedge deep into his chest.

A scream. A scream that was too high-pitched to be human, a scream that rang down the stairwell and echoed off the walls, sending a spider web of cracks branching off across the window next to him. A moment later came the distant crash of breaking glass, and then horrible, heavy silence that weighed down on him more effectively than a damp curtain.

"CAS!" Dean bellowed, but only the silence answered.

Panic and anger and dread all roiling and frothing up within his chest and working their way up the back of his throat, he practically flew up the remaining steps, image after horrific image flitting through his brain as he wondered what could possibly have made Castiel shriek like that. He surged into the corridor, panting hard, feeling as though something was trying to claw its way to freedom through his stomach. He kicked the library doors open as soon as he reached them and charged inside, taking in the full horror of the situation.

The room was empty, but one of the huge windows at the far end now had a gaping hole. Through the sheets of rain he could just about make out a balcony, on which were two figures. And Dean would recognise that broad-shouldered back anywhere. His father was advancing slowly forwards, the same crossbow he'd threatened Dean with an hour ago trained on Castiel, who was sprawled on the floor. At first, with a horrible lurch in his chest, Dean already thought the worst. But then the angel dragged himself backwards, one wing tucked in behind him, the other dragging along the floor.

As Dean watched, John stamped his boot down on the downed wing, and the angel made a muffled moan of pain behind his closed lips. And then before the hunter could move, he released the loaded arrow. It sped through the air and became lodged in Castiel's other wing with a stomach-turning noise. A second, similarly pitched scream of pain shook the air around them, sending more cracks splintering up the broken window in front of Dean just as he reached it, fury driving him forwards, making him faster.

John was reaching into his quiver, extracting another arrow and loading it into his crossbow. Castiel just lay there, breathing hard, his gaze never once leaving John's. "This is for laying a hand on my boys," He snarled, drawing the string back.

Dean didn't hesitate – he couldn't afford to. He scrambled through the gap in the glass and slammed his full body weight right into John's unsuspecting back. He stumbled forwards with a yell, the crossbow slipping from his hands. Dean ducked around him quickly and caught the weapon, spinning on his heel and holding the weapon rock steady in his hands, pointing it at John's now heaving chest.

"Dean?" He heard Castiel's surprise, but didn't turn. His green eyes blazing with fucking rage, he kept his icy gaze fixed on John. The hunter raised his hands in a placating gesture, but his tone was harsh as he hissed like an angry goose.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?!"

"Whatever it takes to stop you hurting Cas." He spat coldly, keeping the arrow trained on his target. A small distant voice in his head had been whispering sceptically ever since they'd broke free of John's trap about whether or not he really could pull the trigger on his father. But now he stood here, weapon in hand and Castiel seriously injured behind him, it had fallen silent.

If John made any attempts to get at Cas again, Dean wouldn't hesitate to shoot.

Gabriel thrashed wildly, but he could barely move. One of the hunters had grabbed him from behind while he had been focused elsewhere, and each of his brothers and sisters were all too busy with their own fights that they hadn't noticed his predicament. He couldn't even move his hands to snap his fingers, nor could he lean forwards to sink his teeth into the man's hand. He could only watch helplessly as the hunter glared at him with hatred in his eyes as he reached into his belt to draw a weapon.

But he needn't have worried. There was a sudden, sickening thud before the man's eyes glazed over and his hand released its grip on Gabriel before he slumped forwards, blood trickling down from a spot on the back of his skull. Sam stood in his place, breathing hard through his nose, cheeks flushed, a thick branch held tightly in his hand. Before Gabriel could say a word, he dropped his makeshift weapon.

"Take me to Dean, Gabriel! Now!"

"Right now Gigantor, I'd do anything for you." Gabriel replied quietly, before grabbing Sam's sleeve and transporting them both into the library. They took a moment to survey the situation before Sam rushed to the window, Gabriel still clinging to his shoulder.

"Don't be a fool, Dean!" John snapped furiously as Sam and Gabriel reached the window. "Put the crossbow down!"

"Shoot him, Deano." Gabriel muttered acidly from Sam's side, his steely bronze eyes now fixed on John's back as they slid from Castiel's fallen form. "Or better yet, leave him to me."

"Dean, give it to me, now!" John yelled, seemingly unaware of the murderous glare currently burning a hole into his back.

For a moment, Dean remained frozen, the rain drumming down on his head and soaking him to the bone, shaking wildly. Then, as if he had intended to do it all along, he threw the crossbow to the side. It sailed through the air before tumbling over the side of the building and vanishing into the darkness of the valley below. John cursed loudly, rushing to the very edge of the balcony and falling to his knees as if trying to save it.

"Dad, we were telling you the truth," Sam said gently, coming out onto the balcony to join the others, taking the opportunity granted by their father's apparent loss of fight. "Castiel won't hurt you – or anyone else. He's not the monster we believed him to be."

"Yeah, and you'd best get your sorry ass out of here, and take what's left of your friends with you." Gabriel snarled, clearly not as quick to forgive John's actions as Sam had been.

Dean didn't say a word. He was still shaking, fury pulsating around his system, burning white hot.

"Come on, let's get inside." Sam said, already making to turn around.

Without a word, Dean turned and crouched down next to Castiel. The angel was moving gingerly; the wounds in his wings must have been agony. As gently as possible, Dean leant forwards and slid one arm under Castiel's, gripping him on the opposite shoulder. Castiel wound his arm over Dean's shoulders and the hunter gripped his wrist, trying not to think of the last time he had been in this position with the angel. Slowly they manoeuvred themselves into an almost-standing position, Castiel leaning his weight against Dean's. His wings brushed Dean's chest and arms, feeling like soggy warm blankets, remaining as limp and lifeless as before. Dean couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety at this, but he was certain one of the pixie-angels would have some sort of suggestion to fix them.

"Dad? Come on, move." Sam urged, for John was still knelt at the balcony's edge.

"Leave him, Sammy. I'll make sure he gets out of here, one way or another." Gabriel said darkly, only folding his arms and frowning when Sam shot him a pointed look. "What? He's lucky I don't make him follow that crossbow."

Dean and Castiel by this point had just drawn level with John. As they did so, he moved suddenly right into a standing position, spinning on his heel, a mad sort of gleam in his eyes. Dean, who had not been expecting it, was completely unprepared when John grabbed a fistful of his jacket and hauled him to the ground with such force that Castiel stumbled too. He hit it with an impact that drove the air from his lungs, and could only watch as John drew Castiel's angel blade from nowhere and buried it up to the handle in the angel's abdomen.

"CAS!" He screamed, reacting purely on instinct when he launched himself forwards at John's legs, taking them out from underneath him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Castiel drop like a stone to his knees, blood blossoming through his white shirt around the silver knife.

As Sam rushed forwards to restrain John, Dean crawled on his hands and knees to Castiel's side. The angel was lying flat on the sodden floor, his hands pressed around the wound, eyes shining as brightly as ever and focused on Dean. Gabriel was there in a moment, his expression a mixture of fury and terror. It was the first time Dean had ever seen such a lost expression on the archangel's face, and it was frankly unnerving.

"C'mon Cas," He muttered as he reached the angel's side, trying to look anywhere but at the dagger still sticking out of Castiel's stomach. "Hurry up and heal yourself. You've lived through worse."

"He can't." A voice said from behind Gabriel, grave and quiet.

"What?" Dean asked weakly, tearing his eyes away from Castiel's shirt, which now seemed to be redder than its normal white and looking up to see Balthazar. "What are you talking about?"

Without speaking, Balthazar turned towards the smashed window and Dean followed his gaze, heart hammering in his chest. A small gathering of the angels hovered there; he instantly recognised Anna from her red hair. They were all holding an object between them, and something very cold slithered into the pit of Dean's stomach when he recognised what it was. The rose was only recognisable by its glass jar – merely three petals remained attached. The rest were gathered at the floor of the jar in an ominous carpet of red. And as he watched, another broke itself away to drift to the bottom.

As the true horror of what he was seeing hit home, Dean whirled back to Castiel. The angel was still watching him unblinkingly, and there was something akin to resignation sparkling in his eyes, as if he had accepted his fate, and that was that. Mutely, Dean shook his head. This couldn't possibly be happening, not now. Not after everything they'd gone through, Castiel was not going to die in this fucked up world!

"No, come on Cas, you can do this," He gabbled, the words sticking in his throat, determinedly not looking at the dying rose. "You not gonna die here, okay?" He threw his head back up to glare at Gabriel, who looked back sadly, helplessly. "Help him! If he can't heal himself, you do it!"

"Dean, we can't." Balthazar was saying, but the words were distorted and muffled in Dean's ears.

"Wait, so he's going to die?" Sam asked almost silently from behind them.

"No!" Dean yelled. "No, he's not!" He gripped the folds of the trenchcoat and glared down at Castiel. "Come on you son of a bitch, heal yourself! Come on!" But the angel didn't move. Stomach twisting and the icy cold now nestling inside his chest, Dean tightened his hold, the words scratching in his throat in his desperation, eyes stinging. "You can't die Cas, dammit!" What could he do? Whatever there was he would do it in a heartbeat because he needed this stupid feathery jackass, needed him as much as he needed Sammy. "Come on Cas, I -"

His unspoken words sat heavily on his tongue as an all-too-familiar blinding light suddenly shone around him and Castiel before they were both hauled upwards.