AN: And now, for the final chapter... This is the longest chapter I've written for this fic. I know I said that I hate when one chapter flits between character views, but this was the easiest way to write it. It's not the best chapter I've ever written, but I'm content with the conclusion. Tell me what you think!

Hurry up, hurry up!

At this point hurrying won't change anything!

They're dying, you jackass! Hurrying changes a lot!

Stop yelling at me; I know what I'm doing!

But you told me you would grab him! I would've grabbed these two together! Why didn't you grab him?

Just stop!

Samsquatch, let's go. Get that tight ass of yours out of bed right now before I make some stupid comment that'll have you running for mercy.

Are you alright now?

Piss off.

Castiel if you don't wake up soon I'll kill you myself, you lovesick, good-for-nothing, short length of incorrect celestial intent.

Sam wanted to wake up. He really did. He just couldn't. Something was holding his eyes closed. At one point, he had been aware of an intense heat all around him, and the cracking of some poorly structured thing surrounding him. Then he was aware of linens so much softer than he knew for a long time. Next, there was light. So much light. He wanted to blink it away, but he couldn't. It was all around him, but if he rolled to his left, it dimmed just a little.

You couldn't have done it.

Yes, I could've.

Don't be stupid. You couldn't have saved both of them at the same time.

I'm an archangel; I can do what I want.

And you can kill yourself, too! You're not up for that yet!

Deano, if you're not okay, Samsquatch is going to kill me...

Look. I made a promise to the giant to save the bozo. That's why they were my top priority. I was counting on you to save him while I saved them. With all the talking you did earlier, I thought you immediately would.

Gabriel, he's an angel. He's got more stamina than those two. Leaving him for the three minutes it took to get these two out was reasonable.

It was a risk. The place was burning down!

Wake up alright. Please, just wake up.

Are you alright, now?

I'll be alright when these mud-monkeys wake up.

Cassie, brother, come on… I'm going crazy here without you. This uptight sack of light is going to tear a wing or something if you don't set him straight soon.

Everything was pain, and everything hurt. Nothing was okay, nothing at all. Castiel could feel nothing and everything at the same time. He could only feel the pain; he had no thoughts. Distantly there was a memory of Dean, just something about Dean. Dean was probably in trouble, but then, when wasn't Dean in trouble? There was something about a demon, but that had to wait. Dean had to learn that Castiel couldn't come to his rescue every single time, and Castiel had to teach himself that he couldn't answer every single one of Dean's calls. Castiel could barely feel his feet past the stakes stabbing through them, let alone put one of them in front of the other.

Why aren't you more freaked out?

Someone has to think clearly while you spaz and scream.

I haven't been screaming.

You resorted to your true voice at least once.

Yeah, well, I was upset.

And the whole world could tell.

Samsquatch, if you wake up, I'll take you out to dessert.

Gabriel...

What, Balthazar?

You have to relax.

I'll relax when my friends stop dying.

Where in Hell are you, Dean? I never thought I'd say this, but I actually want to see those green eyes of yours. Don't keep an Englishman waiting, yeah?

Gabriel...

What now, Balthazar?

You have to realize they might not wake up. They've all been through so much…

I've been through a lot too, but I'm not dead!

Dean woke up without remembering when he blacked out. It didn't matter though. All that mattered was the completion of the job. This nest had to be cleared out. The vamps were too close to that school for comfort. But why was he thinking? There was no time! He popped off the ground and held his Bowie in front of him in a ready stance, feet spread apart, knees bent, eyes wide… But nothing was there anymore.

Dean spun around, incredibly confused. Where were the vamps? Where was Sam? Castiel had been there a moment ago, too, hadn't he? The fight was taking place in an abandoned building, what used to be the school cafeteria before a newer, improved building was constructed, yet he was now standing in an open field in the middle of the night.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean spun around again and came face to face with his favorite biblical figure. Death was standing calmly, leaning on his cane with that same unreadable expression.

"I didn't pass out, did I?" Dean asked.

Death shook his head.

"Am I dead," Dean asked next, "again?"

"That's for you to decide," Death said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I don't know whether or not I should kill you."

"Everything you say is just so charming," Dean chirped.

"Don't be cute," Death scolded.

Dean shook his head and looked away. He sheathed his Bowie and relaxed his stance. "Did I really go out by a vampire though? Man, that's so lame!"

"Vampires?" Death repeated. "Do you not remember Beelzebub?"

Dean's head tilted and a corner of his mouth rose in rebuttal. "Beelze–?" Then he stopped. His head snapped straight, and his eyes narrowed. "Beelzebub."

It all came rushing back to him. In the middle of a huge fight with vampires, Dean had noticed a dark shadow out of the corner of his eye. Of course, being that he was in the middle of a kill-or-be-killed situation, he couldn't think twice about it, but when the vampires around him dropped to the floor and black smoke was shoving its way down his throat, he had to worry to about it. After that, the details were sketchy. The first thing he remembered was breaking his own nose in some house they were squatting in. He remembered driving and talking to Sammy and Cas. After the first fight between Beelzebub and Castiel, he remembered everything, and all of it made him cringe.

The last things he remembered were Castiel drawing a sigil and knocking him out, then Sam with glowing eyes and wings about to smite him.

"What happened? Is Beelzebub dead? I don't feel him anymore. What happened to Sam? He better be okay," Dean ranted, fists forming at his sides without intention.

"Beelzebub is dead, and Sam is alive," Death said. "Now the question is, are you?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"You can walk away from it all right now, Dean. You pack up and leave this wretched life. You can finally be at peace."

"Are you crazy? I can't leave Sam. There's work to be done. Monsters to kill."

"Sam is just as capable of killing monsters as you are, and something tells me Sam won't be left alone without you," Death sighed almost proudly. "That band of misfit angels might just stay together this time."

"You mean Cas, Gabe, and Balthazar?"

"Precisely."

"There's no way I'm leaving him in their hands! Those two don't know the different between a baby and dog let alone a trickster and a human! And Cas… Castiel is another reason I can't leave. I have things to fix."

"Well, you seem resolved."

"I am. Don't kill me. Bring me back."

"Oh, I can only kill you. You have to bring yourself back." As Death turned to walk away, Dean could've sworn he had a smile on his face.

"Hey!" Dean shouted after him. "I've got one more question."

"What's that?" Death asked, without turning fully around.

"Why do I have a choice this time? Doesn't this throw the universe all out of order of something? What happened to that lesson you taught me last time about the circle of life and all that crap?"

Death chuckled and began walking again. Over his shoulder, he answered, "Don't you think all the havoc that Beelzebub wreaked has disturbed the 'circle of life' enough? One 'Righteous Man' slipping through the cracks won't really be noticed."

As Dean pondered his words and watched him shrink in the distance, he realized, "How the hell am I supposed to bring myself back?"

"You really are lazy, aren't you?"

Sam jumped at the voice. It was familiar and strange at the same time, and, in Sam's experience, that always meant disaster. He collected himself enough to stand prepared for a fight as he glanced around nervously. The first thing Sam saw was the fancy room around him. The next was the fancy king-sized bed he was swaying on. The last was the young version of his father leaning against a wall across the room from him. He looked like the man that Sam met with Dean when Castiel brought them back in time to fight Anna.

"Dad?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"Try again."

"Michael?" Sam asked angrily.

"The vehemence you direct toward my brother," the so far unidentified mask of John Winchester observed in awe. "Have we really been that horrible to you?" He tilted his head. "Well, there was a lot of messy, unnecessary torture… and even some killing," the way he almost sang the word scared Sam. "Hmm, yes, I suppose you do have the right to hate us. You should know my brothers were only doing as they were told. They're too naïve to realize that the orders they received were not those from our father. He began his vacation a long time ago. Even I don't know where he is."

"You're the Angel of Death."

"Please, call me Ezraeil."

"Is that you're… name?"

"If I asked to be referred to as it, wouldn't it logically follow that it is?" Ezraeil asked, staring straight into Sam's eyes.

"I-I suppose so," the man stammered. "I-I've just never heard you r-referred to by a name other than… your, um, title, I guess."

"Well, you wouldn't if you are a Christian."

"I consider myself nothing other than well-read."

Ezraeil huffed an impressed laugh. "I want to consider you intelligent, but the way you are squatting over a bed makes it incredibly difficult to. Please come down from there."

Sam looked down between his raised fists at his spread feet which sunk detrimentally into the fluffy comforter. "Right," he sighed, clambering down with a complete lack of grace. When he was on solid ground again, he stood uncomfortably beside the bed. One had massaged the back of his neck; the other rubbed his forehead where a dull throb resounded. The Angel of Death continued to only stare at him, and he felt as if sitting down would be disrespectful.

"So, uh," Sam said, "are you, uh, here to kill me or something? Claim my body as your vessel?"

"You're pretentious," Ezraeil stated, pushing off the wall. "Immediately assuming that you're good enough for me to take as my vessel. I have no need for a vessel. Contrary to popular belief, I do not kill because I have a hankering for it. I don't take every opportunity to kill because it's fun. I do because I was created to. It was how I was made. At this time, I have no orders; there is no one to kill. I'm only here because you summoned me, and, to be frank, I very much want to go home."

Sam shuddered. Ezraeil pronounced each word of that last sentence separately with emphasis while standing a hair's berth from him. Even though his current form was so much smaller than Sam, he somehow managed to seem so much bigger. The Angel of Death may have been wearing his young father's face, but there was no trace of his father in there. John Winchester never had this much of a presence surrounding him, this much strength, assurance, and intimidation.

"No, you're father is nowhere in here. This isn't even his vessel. It's just a projection. Can't you focus for one moment without going into a soliloquy?"

"I'm sorry?" Sam asked, suddenly more upset by the continuous insults than by the current situation.

"Are you quite finished using me like a puppet? I came; I saw; I helped; I conquered. What more do you want from me?"

Sam repeated Ezraeil's words under his breath, and asked, "You helped, and you conquered?" Ezraeil didn't answer. Sam gasped, "It was you! You told me to disown Dean!"

"So you do remember everything," Ezraeil said in surprise. He stepped back and walked to the window in the room. "Not many of my vessels remember what has happened while I possess them."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"Because most of them don't survive it."

"But, I survived, right?"

"What do you remember?" Ezraeil asked the glass.

"If you're asking whether or not I remember smiting my brother, the answer is yes," Sam crossed his arms and told the Angel's back.

"Then, you remember that the smiting destroyed every living creature in the immediate vicinity?" Sam gaped at his words. "I suppose not."

"So am I… Is Dean…?" His arms fell apart, and one hand returned to his forehead.

"Neither of you are yet. It's very strange. I can't explain why you're not dead, but then again, I'm not the one who usually answers questions with words." The Angel turned around slowly, and approached Sam again. He reached out a palm and placed it on Sam's forehead. Though he recoiled with eyes squeezed shut and a scared frown, only relief came to Sam's aching skull. "That hairline fracture would've killed you as soon as you woke up if my presence doesn't," Ezraeil shrugged, moving away again.

"Y-you saved me?" Sam stammered. "I thought you didn't like me?"

"I do like you. I helped you, didn't I?"

"Then what's with all the threats and intimidation?" Sam exclaimed.

"I'm trying to see just how pretentious you are."

Sam set his jaw and rolled his eyes. Suddenly, he felt like he was talking to his brother and Gabriel in one person.

"So what happened?" he asked. "How did we smite everything in the room but not kill anyone?"

"You're not dead because I didn't want you to be dead. Dean is not dead because the disownment worked just enough that some other power could shield him; still, his life hangs in the balance. Castiel is not dead, because his angelic stamina and quick thinking managed to save him; still, he is not quite healed either."

"Castiel was there?" Sam shouted. "What was he doing there?"

"I have already said that I don't explain well," Ezraeil hissed.

"As for me," he continued in aggravation, "I would like to go home now. Now, release me so that you may release yourself."

"Uh, how? Do I just say like, 'I release you!' or is there some spe…cial ritual?" Ezraeil disappeared from the room in the blink of an eye, and Sam groaned in frustration.

"Cas, man, you have to wake up. Please. We have so much to talk about. For one, you were such a badass! The way you fought Beelzebub for weeks? I can't believe you could do that. I certainly couldn't. I didn't! I was so weak; I was a failure…"

Dean sat beside Castiel's bedside. He had been awake for a day now, and he hadn't budged since settling down. He woke up yesterday to see Sam and Gabriel talking quietly in a corner. Gabriel was red in the face yet calm, Sam's face was tear-streaked, and Balthazar was standing silently, just off to the side, listening but not speaking. The singled-out angel was the one who noticed his movements first. He nudged Sam's shoulder, and then Sam was at Dean's bedside, both crying and yelling at him. As he was told, Sam had woken up a few days earlier on his stomach as if he was just napping.

Then the five of them had a chick flick. Gabriel screamed at them for worrying him so much, and how dare they sleep for weeks on end like that? Balthazar explained it had actually only been a singular week that they had been resting. In the beginning, neither of them seemed they were going to make it, but then Sam started talking in his sleep, and rolling around as if he was conscious again. Dean came to once Sam did, but he didn't open his eyes until a day later. Then both of the Winchester brothers told their stories about unconsciousness.

Castiel, however, was still as good as dead.

Once everything was out, Sam read the look in Dean's eyes and asked Gabriel if he was serious about the dessert thing, and off they went. Balthazar tagged along because he, too, could see that Dean needed to be alone with his angel. Ever since, Dean had been alone in the room with the unconscious Castiel, just praying.

"I need you, man. I need you to wake up," Dean pleaded. He rested his head on Castiel's chest and breathed deeply. Gabriel and Balthazar had cleaned him up since the incident, so he was now lying neatly on a fancy bed in a clean-pressed trenchcoat and suit, but Dean couldn't care less what his angel was wearing; he just wanted him to wake up.

When he felt his head raise ever so gently with Castiel's breathes, Dean raised his head just an inch and hovered his hand between Castiel's nose and lips. He felt the air rush in Castiel's nose and out of his mouth. He put his ear to Castiel's chest and faintly heard a heart beating. Dean couldn't believe it. He grabbed a flask of holy water from his jacket pocket and splashed it across Castiel's face. The angel jumped too quickly for his groggy body and flailed off the bed, but Dean moved to catch him, steadying him on the edge of the bed by resting his entire body across Castiel's.

When Castiel realized who was above him, he began bucking and twisting, desperate to get away. He managed to throw Dean off the bed and stagger to his feet. Then he closed his eyes and lifted his face to the ceiling with a grimace. Dean watched him with raised eyebrows and a sinking feeling in his stomach. Castiel was trying to get away from him.

"Why can't I fly?" Castiel barked harshly.

"What?" Dean asked.

"What have you done to my wings you abomination?" Castiel shouted.

"Nothing! I haven't done anything! Cas, it's me! It's me, I swear! I promise it's me!" Dean shouted back. His hands were raised in surrender, and his eyes were wide in innocence. "I'm not Beelzebub. I'm not a demon. Please!"

Castiel scrutinized Dean until he allowed himself to collapse onto the bed in pain and defeat. Dean hurried around to him and helped to spread his entire body on the bed again, then curled up next to him. The angel shuddered and breathed raggedly, so Dean enveloped him in a tight, comforting embrace until he calmed down considerably.

"Why can't I fly?" Castiel asked again calmly.

"Because you've been out for a week plus. You were caught in the middle of the Angel of Death's smiting session. Sam and I are lucky to survive. What were you even doing there? Gabriel said you were supposed to be far, far away!"

"And I was," Castiel sighed, "until the demon drew me back in."

"But how?"

"The binding. He called me to his side, and I had to obey. Because I was in Heaven at the time, the pain in my grace was especially intensified. There was absolutely no way I could ignore the pain even if it was only to wait until the demon was dead."

Dean nodded into Castiel's shoulder and remained quiet. The silence stretched for a while, and it was anything but comfortable.

"Was any of it real?" Castiel whispered.

"Yes," Dean whispered back instantly in an even lower pitch. "Everything from me was real. I… I love you, Castiel."

Castiel nodded tearfully, then rolled over and kissed Dean deeply.

"So that's it then?" Balthazar asked. "The jobs done, I can leave?"

"You could've left days ago," Sam shrugged. "Beelzebub's dead. That's all that we summoned you for."

"I couldn't exactly leave this poof alone to tear his wings off, could I?" Balthazar asked good-naturedly, nodding at Gabriel.

"Yeah, thanks for that, Balthy," Gabriel said around a lollipop.

"Not a problem, mate."

"Are you two going to head off back to Heaven now?" Sam asked.

"I don't see why not," Balthazar said. "Now that all of the assholes are gone, it might just be a nice place to live."

"It needs someone in charge, you know," Gabriel added. "And if I'm the last of the archangels, I think the throne is waiting for me."

"I'm sure it is," Sam rolled his eyes while he pulled his ringing phone out of his pocket. "Yeah, Dean?... Really?... Wow, that's great… Alright, we're on our way." He hung up and told the angels, "Everything is cleared up over there apparently. We can go back."

"Wow, it only took two days for those guys to clear up a month of horror? How well did Dean sweet-talk Cas?" Sam asked.

"Hmm, two days alone in a fancy-schmancy hotel that I conjured using some good ol' trickster magic? What sweet things do you think Dean did well to Cas?" Gabriel asked with a smirk and quirked eyebrow.

"I'm going to kill you one day," Sam swore while Balthazar laughed.

Also, I just want to extend warm thanks to all of my followers! Thank you especially to everyone who favorited this or reviewed it. It means an incredible amount to me, really. Like I said 16 chapters ago, this was my first published fic, and it makes me really happy to know that people actually supported it, so thank you. =D

Special thanks to RandomQueen, croacas, VampirePrinssess, OnyxDay, and my guest for continuous reviews. You guys are so lovely and wonderful!