"Lizzy!" Dean shouts, fearing her still, slumped form and descending down to the floor by her side. On his knees, he checks the pulse in her unmoving neck and feels the strong beat still there. "Thank God. Lizzy, hey! Come on!" he calls to her, his hand cupping the side of her face and shaking it lightly. "C'mon, L! Open your eyes, please."
Lizzy cracks them just barely open with the sound of his voice pulling her out of the deep, dismal darkness. Blinking several times she's shocked when her eyelids actually listen to her. Attempting to lift her arm to test the waters, it moves. She's back, this time without a demon fighting away inside her mind. She breaths out a sigh of relief over the freedom she feels before turning her head towards that voice she knows oh so well.
"Hey," she whispers once she sees his green eyes looking down at her.
Dean picks her up and pulls her in quickly, clutching to her tightly as the wonderful alleviation washes over them both. She pushes herself up and climbs onto him, her arms around his neck and her head buried into his shoulder. They're a tangled mess as they reconnect after the ordeal finally comes to a long awaited end.
"Oh my God!" she cries into his shirt. "I hurt you! Your head!"
"Hey, I'm fine," Dean tells her, trying to reassure the overly worried woman.
"No!" she pulls back and reaches to the side of his head, running her fingers over the dried blood and cringing. "Shit. I can't believe I did that to you. I'm so, so sorry."
"It wasn't you," he quietly tells her, cupping her face in his hands just like she always does to him when she wants his full attention. Lizzy stops looking him over and focuses just on his eyes. "You didn't do this. I'll be ok."
"I still feel like it's my fault," she says while her bottom lip quivers with her shame. "And what I did to Sam!" She tries to look around Dean's head to view Sam, to make sure he's ok, but Dean holds tightly to her, training her focus on him.
"He's fine too, all thanks to you," he tells her.
"The things I said to you, oh, God. It was awful. I couldn't stop her, I couldn't… ow!" It was then that the slice in her wrist begins stinging. She pulls it in to inspect it and sees the deep red stain on her white gauze bandage growing rapidly and at a terrifying pace. Now that Laraje is gone, nothing is holding her in one piece any longer. "Oh shit," she worries as she looks back up to him in panic.
Castiel walks forward from the place he stood to watch the whole drama play out and looks down at the scared woman, his blank face still in place. He moves in on her, two fingers extended to her forehead, and Lizzy instinctively shies away. The last time she saw him do this he made Bobby hit the floor in a split second. And, oh yeah, he just tried to attack her. Her trust in Castiel has been tested.
"It's ok," Castiel reassures her, touching her head and her wrist immediately stops bleeding. She looks down at the blood stain while it recedes until it's vanished. Lizzy quickly pulls back the bandage and finds her anti-possession tattoo in one piece, just like her skin. Her hand that she knows she broke when Laraje punched the wall and her stabbed shoulder all seem to feel fine now. Snapping her head up, she looks at Castiel with surprise and sheer wonder. She had no idea just how powerful he was until now. She gets up from her tangled position on the floor and stands before the angel.
"Thank you," she says quickly before wrapping her arms around him, Castiel remaining still with his arms by his sides, unsure of what to do. "I could have bled to death."
"Without medical attention, it was a certainty," Castiel confirms.
"We should have listened to you," Lizzy says pulling away from the now uncomfortable angel. "You tried to warn us but we didn't listen. Castiel, I'm sorry. I'll never take your words lightly ever again."
"I think that would be wise," he returns.
Lizzy backs away and looks around her apartment hallway. Wooden splinters scattered across the hardwood from the broken closet door along with bloody footprints that appear to be her size coming from the foyer downstairs. Sam, now standing up, is on the other end of the hallway, a complete jumble of emotions rolling across his face. She knows what he did, she saw everything, felt everything, and now she isn't sure what to say or do concerning him. She's too in shock still to even process his insane ability he just demonstrated. Her eyes finally make their way to Dean, standing by her side. The dried blood cascading down the right side of his head makes her sick to her stomach as she's the one who put it there. The whole scene suddenly overwhelms her, the pressure of being in that apartment stifling her.
"I have to get outta here," she says quickly and her bare feet begin making their way down the hall.
"L, please stop," Dean reaches out and grabs her elbow as she passes, but she just pushes it off and keeps going.
"Can't be in here." She needs to get out, to get away from all the people in her home, all the evidence of what her possessed self did, and be alone with her thoughts.
She brushes past Sam without even looking up at him and reaches the top of the stairs. Lizzy takes one step down and freezes with the terror of the horrific site lying motionless in the foyer. Two bodies, so much blood.
"Oh my God!" she yells out as she backpedals clumsily and nearly trips over the top step. Sam catches her before she falls completely and hoists her back up by an arm. She looks up at him, mouth open but no coherent words form. "What…what…" She tries to ask him what happened, but Sam just pulls her into him. He knows he probably shouldn't. Most likely she's terrified of him right now after what he just did but she doesn't move. Instead she just stands, numbly letting him hold her while not feeling the comfort he attempts to give her. She turns her head to face Dean, her cheek pressed against Sam's coat and shakes her head back in forth when it all starts to settle in and the picture gets clearer.
"You don't remember?" Dean asks her, seeing the shock setting in.
"I did that!" she questions while staring at him and pointing down the steps at the two bodies dead on the ground. The older man's dead eyes are looking back up the staircase as his head is twisted almost all the way around and the other, who appears to be younger, is lying face down in his own crimson pool. "Please," she closes her eyes as tears pour down her now very ghost-white face. "Dean, please tell me I didn't do that."
"You didn't do that," he tells her honestly.
"But it was my hands?" she cries, eyes pleading with him for the gruesome truth.
"Yeah," Dean says with a pained expression and he watches her push away from Sam and her hand fly to her mouth.
"Oh my God," she says again, panic dripping from her words. "Oh my fucking God, I'm gonna be sick." She turns and runs into the bathroom behind her, making it just in time to empty her churning stomach into the toilet.
Sam gives Dean an oddly apologetic look before heading into the bathroom with Lizzy. He pities her, having been through this once before himself. It was horrible finding out the things he did while Meg was riding him. He was fully awake when he ended the life of that hunter with his own hands and he's at least happy that she doesn't recall actually doing the same. He kneels down beside her on the floor while she has her knees against the porcelain and her back hunched over the bowl. Sam gathers her long hair and holds it back for her. Then he pulls one of her hands away from the side of the toilet and grasps it in his own. She wretches over and over, the knowledge of what her body did making her sicker by the minute.
"I'm so sorry, Lizzy," Sam tells her. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. And I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner."
Lizzy grips tighter onto Sam's hand with his attempt at comforting her. She appreciates his efforts but it just isn't enough. She begins taking deep breaths and sits back on her heels once her sickness begins subsiding. "Oh fuck. Oh shit. Sam."
Sam lets go of her gathered hair and uses his now free hand to brush aside her bangs that are plastered to her forehead with sweat. His heart is heavy with not just the knowledge of what she's going through, but with what she now had to know about him. It's too much.
"I know coming from me right now it might not mean much, but I'm here for you," he explains. "I've been where you are. It's ugly and awful. You've always been there for me in the past. I just hope you can let me return the favor."
Lizzy just nods her silent thanks but when she looks up at him all she can see is Sam using his psychic powers on her. She bursts into tears suddenly at the thought and how scared for him it makes her. Covering her face in her hands, her sobs take over.
The reaction is nothing Sam could have hoped for and it devastates him. Even with her tears clearly springing from the sight of him, he pulls her over and, much like they had when he came to tell her about Dean's decent to hell months ago, she leans into him and cries from the depths of her being. Sam wraps supportive arms around her and lets her get out the overwhelming emotions over everything. He just wants to help her.
Dean stands in the hallway, eyes closed as he hears her crying and Sam's kind words drift out from the open bathroom door. He's lost in every aspect. Lost as to what to say to her, lost as to if he can get her to stay with him, lost as to what all this shit that Laraje told them even means.
"I think I will take care of the… mess before Lizzy comes back out," Castiel proclaims, sensing that Dean needed a moment. The angel begins walking to the stairs, ready to get to work, when Dean stops him.
"Wait," Dean quietly asks.
Castiel stands still and looks at Dean, waiting for whatever he has to say. The angel is still very mad at them, the two having been so careless and disrespectful, but even with his anger he can't leave, not just yet.
"I'm sorry," Dean says, sucking up his pride. "Cas, I'm sorry. L was right. We should have listened."
Castiel doesn't react. Instead he keeps his stone face in place.
"And, I owe you one," Dean adds. "She's everything to me and you saved her life."
"Yes, well, I was not about to let her die," Castiel states simply.
"Cas, what the hell is going on?" Dean asks with sadness and sheer necessity. "That demon said a lot of fucked up things. Why would it want to separate us? Why is our relationship a bad thing?"
"It's not a bad thing. Quite the opposite, actually," Castiel cryptically explains. "God's will doesn't always appear to make sense at first."
"So it's God's will for us to be together, not apart?" Dean tries to straighten out. "We should be together?"
"Yes, Dean. You should be with Lizzy. I believe you call it being soul mates."
Dean washes a hand down his face with a hefty sigh. The mind games keep getting played on him even after the demon is gone.
"Soul mates work in different ways for each person," Castiel tells him. "And with some people, some special, exceptional people that hold God's interests, they may have more than one soul mate."
Dean winkles his brow and looks to the open bathroom door, seeing Sam holding Lizzy as she sobs, and then looks back at Castiel, the information finally landing for him. His eyes blown wide with the revelation, he speaks in a low tone. "Both of them?"
"Yes. Consider yourself fortunate."
"Why do I get the special treatment from the big guy?"
"Have faith, Dean," Castiel answers, stepping forward and touching the wound on the side of Dean's head, healing it immediately. "There's a reason for everything. You need to believe. Your brother should by now."
"Why would Sam have faith?"
"Ask him about his travels here… and rest assured that this… slip up of his will remain between us." With that, Castiel disappears, the usual fluttering sound filling the hallway. Dean's relieved that Uriel and the other asshole angels won't catch wind of Sam's demonic indiscretion.
Dean stands still for a second before looking down the stairs. The foyer, thankfully, is empty and spotless. For the first time, he begins to see that Castiel may not be fully on the angels' side. He may just be on their side.