"Samuel Brooksmith. Room 217," the pretty blonde receptionist read and smiled coyly at Dean who threw her a wink and thanked her. Castiel made a sure she was watching as he snaked a hand into the back pocket of Dean's jeans as they walked away.

"Remember, he might not remember or like the same things. He's still Sam overall, but the details are a little different. I don't even know if he's awake or what condition he's in physically."

"I know, Cas," Dean snapped. Castiel couldn't blame him for being tense. Dean held his hand tightly, and Cas gently stroked his thumb over the back of it as they approached the room. They were stopped by a doctor coming out.

"You are?" He looked friendly buy insurmountably average.

"Family. I'm Dean Brooksmith, Sammy's brother. And this is Cas Novak."

Castiel felt a bit uncomfortable using Novak, but it wasn't the place to discuss pseudonyms.

"Oh good!" He looked a little oddly at the pair of hands and but said nothing, "Sammy has made a miraculous recovery, we—"

"Only I get to call him, Sammy," Dean interjected.

"Oh, uh, sorry. But uh, as I was saying. He woke up yesterday morning from his coma. He was minimally responsive and his brain was still quite swollen, we expected permanent damage. But aside from a little memory loss, he seems absolutely fine!" He reached into a file to pull out some MRI films and held them up to the light, "On the left is two days ago, the right is today. It's just incredible."

"That's us Brooksmiths," Dean said under his breath. Castiel squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"How is he physically?"

"Yes, well unfortunately no miracles there. He'll be lucky to walk again without a cane or crutch. His hips and pelvis were crushed, as well as both femurs."

Dean winced, he felt sick. He gripped Cas' hand tighter.

"The good news is, his pelvis is repairable, and his femurs should heal enough in a few months to replace his hips."

"He needs a hip replacement? Is this a fucking joke? He's not even thirty!"

"Dean, relax."

The doctor looked a little nervously at the fuming man and then quickly to Castiel for reassurance to continue who nodded slightly.

"Your hip joint fits together kind of like a nut and wrench," the doctor tried to explain, he held up one cupped hand and put a clenched fist in it, "It's a ball and socket type deal. What happened to Sammy—I mean Sam, is that the ball part shattered, and took most of the cartilage and connective tissues with it. I've had a team of different orthopedic surgeons and specialists take a look at the x-rays and at his overall health, and it's been agreed that once his femurs and pelvis heal we'll be able to replace the hips without the possibility of the femurs collapsing when he starts walking again. You're lucky your brother took all his vitamins!" he laughed nervously. Dean silently thanked Sam's health obsession.

"How long till his funny bones heal?"

"Femurs. And his pelvis. And I'd say six months is average, it might be a little more because the amount of healing that has to be done."

"What about the hip replacement, how long is that going to put him out of commission?"

"Actually the healing time for that is usually six weeks or less. But I'd say with all the injuries it could be a full year before he's back to normal. Or about normal as he's going to be. Does he have anyone at home to care for him?"

"We're it," Dean said tightly. "Thank you, doctor. I'd like to see him now." He pushed past the doctor, Castiel muttered a thank you and pat the man on the shoulder as he was dragged along. He couldn't help but feel guilty for not healing Sam better. He felt bad for Dean too, who was now holding Sam so tight it looked like he couldn't breathe.

"Dean, you're going to break my ribs," he gasped.

"If you ever fall into a pit with Satan and a rouge arc angel again, I am going to pull you out of Hell myself just to punch you all the way back there."

Castiel stifled a laugh, Winchester logic.

"I'll try to remember that."

"Good."

Castiel pulled a chair up to the side of the bed so he could sit with them.

"Cas, good to see you! Do you know how I got here?"

"I took you out of Hell. I apologize for the incomplete healing. I did the best I could. I used the last of my powers to will you some grace to wake you from your coma. I wasn't sure if it had worked or not."

"Wow. Do you just have a thing for raising Winchesters out of hell?"

"Only the ones I like."

Dean smiled at his angel, who was no longer an angel.

"Wait did you say 'last of your powers?'"

"Cas fell."

The room was silent.

"I chose to. You are my family."

Dean took his hand and kissed it.

"Wait, are you guys…together?"

"You know that, dumbass."

"Dean, memory loss," Castiel reminded.

"Oh, yeah. Uh we've been together for like two years. Well. There was a brief separation when I got all dickish about you going to hell and Caswas nice enough to take my douchey ass back."

"Cas you're a saint, not an angel," Sam laughed.

"He's perfect," Dean smiled and Castiel blushed. "So do you know the game plan for your broke ass?"

"They're going to repair my pelvis with surgery Friday. But they said I could heal at home after the worst of the incisions close up. Do we have a place around here? Where are we anyways?"

"Kansas. And I have a little place the next town over. Cas and I will look for something bigger, I have some money stashed. You just focus on healing or whatever it is people with broken bones do."

"Will do. Now go away, the fun pain killers are starting to kick in and I want to nap."

They all laughed and said their goodbyes. Dean shut the door of the room quietly behind them. He wrapped his arms around Castiel's neck. Cas just held him. He could feel small wet spots from Dean's tears. He just held tighter.

"Thank you so much, Cas. You brought back my brother. You came back. We can do this. We can take care of Sammy. We can be a family for a while. For real."

Castiel kissed his neck gently, refusing to let go, "We will do it, Dean."