Let me just start by saying I am so sorry this update took as long as it did. I got bombarded with shit tons of homework out of the blue and did not have time to come back to this for so long. But that's college for ya I suppose. Very sorry again that it took me so long to get back to this. I gave it a quick proofread but if it's rough or out-of-character I apologize. I'm posting this before class because I just wanted to get it out there while it was finished. I'll give it a more thorough edit once I have time again. Thanks so much for being patient and sticking with this!

[xxx]

Chapter 10

Dean fell to his knees when gravity regained its hold on him. Soft grass brushed against his hands. He could not decide if the dark grime littering his skin was dirt or blood; he decided on a combination. Air returned to his lungs, and suddenly his lungs were burning, as if he had not breathed in months. How long had he been there?

When he looked up, his hand reflexively tightened around the weapon that had been pulled through with him.

Lucifer emerged from the light that had surrounded the human, countenance enraged and agonized as he recomposed himself. His wings, still manifested, were singed a dulling gray, many feathers ripped painfully from his flesh, others currently burning off their respective limbs. He looked accusingly at Castiel.

"What the fuck was that Castiel?!" He demanded in a voice that made even Dean cringe, "What were you thinking?! I told you explicitly that no one was meant to cross through that portal in that direction! You're lucky it didn't rip you to fucking shreds! And what did you think, that you were just going to pass right back through it with him? Or was it your plan all along to stay behind and serve penance or some bullshit? Fucking look at me Castiel! What were you doing?!"

Dean lunged at the Devil the moment his strength returned to him. He never took his eyes off his younger brother, did not even consider the human, just countered his attack quickly and tossed him thoughtlessly to the side by his arm. Castiel took a step towards him.

"Don't even look at him right now Castiel he's not the one contemplating killing you for being so stupid what the fuck were you thinking?" The Devil snarled.

"I had to get him out," Castiel's voice shook like a small child being yelled at for the first time by their parent, "I needed to make sure he found the portal."

"I fucking heard you Castiel! You were going to stay behind!" Lucifer grabbed Dean by his offending fist and flung him backwards, not willing to deal with him yet. "An angel cannot last in Purgatory! That wouldn't be getting what you deserve, that would be dying Castiel. Not living, just dying. Over and over again without properly coming back to life. Each time you die in there it feels worse. And you'd never be able to get back out. Serving penance means eventually stopping. You stupid, selfish fucking child!"

"What is going on?" Dean demanded, coming to terms again with the fact that Lucifer was someone he could not kill with his current weapon and rethinking his strategy.

"Dean Winchester so help me God," Lucifer glowered at him, seething in a palpable rage, "if you don't shut your goddamned mouth I'll send you back there myself because right now the only thing keeping me from slaughtering you where you stand is the fact that it would upset him. I'll get to you in a minute but for now don't so much as let me think you're here."

"I'm sorry," Castiel lost all his defensiveness, all of his preparation to fight in Dean's honor. He looked well and truly spent. "I am sorry. I just had to. It was my fault that he…" His vessel's legs buckled and gave out underneath him. Lucifer reached out and caught him immediately, his anger giving way to his concern.

"Shit," he mumbled, "can you feel your wings?"

"Yes," Castiel responded mechanically. He heard the older sigh in relief. "You're injured badly."

"I'll heal," Lucifer dismissed, "it's you I'm worried about. Going through that tore your Grace."

Castiel felt as if his form was disintegrating. The force that held him together was damaged, and it gave him a strange sort of vertigo, like he was falling and spinning and swaying while being crushed. He clutched the Devil for support, hoping the older could somehow keep him together. It was not painful, though it certainly was not pleasant.

"Dean," Lucifer finally addressed him, balancing his brother in both arms, "it seems answers will have to wait. I've more important matters to attend to. So for now welcome back. I'm sure little Sammy will be thrilled to see you." And they were gone, leaving the freshly-rescued human alone in an unfamiliar forest with nothing but his weapon and his wits. The archangel did not doubt his capabilities; if he survived Purgatory for eleven months, finding a road would not be complicated.

The flight was agony, as his wings had not healed yet, but repairing Castiel's Grace was more important than restoring a few feathers. Where they were headed, he could not concern himself with some slight discomfort.

"Lucifer, no," Castiel managed a slight protest when they arrived, energy still leaking. Were the Devil caught here, he would most certainly be killed.

"Ssh," the elder dismissed, "it's the only place that can heal you effectively."

"I can handle myself," Castiel tried to shoo him away, "Just go before you're discovered."

"If I'm not mistaken, Heaven wouldn't be too thrilled to find you here either. We're both enemies of the higher order so we're both risking our heads here. All or nothing, right?" He offered a characteristic smirk. Castiel squinted, but did not argue it further.

Looking over his shoulder once, Lucifer flicked his wrist to shut all of the doors leading in to the great hall they stood in. The Bibles of man talked frequently of the throne of God, but none of them mentioned the rest of the great infrastructures of Heaven. He sat Castiel down on the edge of the fountain, which served as the center of Heaven. Here all of its power collected in the form of liquid light. The forces that held the domain together, that separated this realm from Hell and Purgatory, that gave birth to the angels at the time of their creation; this fountain was in many ways an extension of God himself. The Seraphim were strictly forbidden to enter this hall; only the Archangels ever had permission to view it, but even they were not allowed to use it. Michael was trapped in Hell, Raphael and Gabriel were both dead, Metatron had not been seen for centuries, but that did not necessarily mean he was dead. He aired on the side of caution should any guards be roaming this hall.

Keeping his demeanor calm, he placed one hand behind Castiel's shoulder and the other behind his head. "Lean back," he instructed. When Castiel complied, he lead him backwards, supporting him completely, and dunked him in the light. The energy tickled his arms, made him feel more pure than he had in a long time, but he ignored it. He had to time this just right for it to heal his brother. Submerging him for too little time would kill him; the energy would mistake his Grace for itself and consume him. Leaving him under for too long would hurt him severely. He could not take the time to marvel in how beautiful it felt against his own energy.

He pulled Castiel out of the water, body perfectly dry and expression resembling that of a human post-coitus. He couldn't help but smile at the thought. "Now we can go."

"Wait," Castiel stood and gestured at the vast fountain. "Heal yourself."

"Castiel we need to leave," Lucifer urged him along, looking around nervously. The younger looked at him almost pleadingly.

Begrudgingly, Lucifer approached the familiar pool, cupped his hands, and scooped up the radiant liquid, drinking it down hastily to satisfy the sentimental being enough to get them out of there. When he took flight again, his wings felt stronger than they had in nearly four thousand years, his Grace like fire beneath his false body.

Castiel directed them back to the sight of the portal; perhaps out of habit, but possibly because he expected Dean Winchester to still be there. When they arrived, however, the human had left. The soldier stilled for a moment while he tried to locate his friend.

"Must you crawl back to him already?" Lucifer teased, stretching his wings experimentally as they rapidly repaired themselves.

"I need to speak to him," Castiel justified, "to apologize. And provide him with the explanation he was denied earlier. Not having answers to pressing questions bothers him, especially involving aspects of his own life. The longer I delay the issue the angrier it will likely make him." His expression dropped. "Not that he is without reason to be angry with me."

Lucifer peered over his shoulder to gaze at the younger. The self-loathing he had worked for so many months to diminish was back and more severe. Hatred for the human agitated his Grace. "Angry? Sure, I suppose. You inadvertently got him killed and sent to a place worse than Hell. I'd be angry too. Does it give him the right to remain angry with you for longer than a few days? Does it give him the right to hate or despise or stop trusting you? Absolutely not. And you'd better keep that in mind, Castiel, because that's exactly what he's going to do. It's who he is."

"You don't know that," Castiel disagreed.

"Don't I?" The Devil felt his composure slipping. "It's exactly what Michael did to me. When I got out of the cage I asked Michael to please just walk away from that battlefield, to not force one of us to have to kill the other, because we are brothers and I still love him, despite how he betrayed me. And he said no. Do you know what his reasons were? 'I'm a good son,' those were his fucking reasons. As if my rebellion was strictly for the sake of rebellion, and not for the sake of the rest of my brothers and all of our Father's creations. He dismissed me as nothing because he refused, after all of these years, to see why I did what I did. And, just like Sam Winchester is like me, Dean Winchester is like Michael." He drilled his eyes into his younger brother's. "So tell me, Castiel, since you know him personally, what do you honestly expect his reaction to be?"

The younger could not hold his gaze. "I would not expect you to understand friendship, Lucifer. Kinship is all the angels know. Friendship is not like that. Friends are allowed to stop trusting each other for a time and not have it be considered a betrayal. Friends let one another work through difficulties however they need to, even if it hurts."

"You think I have not done that for you?"

"I am aware that you have. But it is different."

"Someone skewed the definition of friendship for you, little one. Likely so they could manipulate you. But what do I know, I'm just your brother. You want to walk straight into that, you go right ahead. I will never make you choose between me and your humans, namely because I did once and you chose them. Expecting a different result the second time is insanity. So go on. Go beg that pathetic creature for forgiveness when he is not deserving of your humility. And when he denies you it for reasons beyond your control, come to me, or call to me and I'll come to you. Because I will always be here for you, Castiel. Long after he dies, or long after he no longer sees you as useful to him, whichever comes first, I'll still be here. And I will never condemn you for that which you cannot control." Lucifer turned his back and willed his wings away. The situation had diffused his temper. He could only control himself through so much. The bitterness of rejection tainted his mouth, made his Grace feel weak.

"Lucifer," Castiel said.

"No." The Devil dismissed. "You've made it very clear, Castiel. You would call him brother before you did me. To an extent I can understand it. So you run to him first. Call me when you can hear me again." And he left, not to be seen in a state of unchecked emotion in front of the one who looked to him for guidance in that field.

Castiel would come around. And when he did, the Morningstar would have a brother again at last.

[xxx]

The arctic tundra always offered a sense of serenity and peace of mind to the Morningstar. Perhaps it was because of his own icy nature that provided such a sense of asylum for him during times of mental disarray; perhaps it was the vast nothingness of the scene. Ice stretching as far as his eyes could distinguish, wind carrying elegant wisps of snow into the air, causing it to dance; the occasional arctic fox or hare or other mammal venturing in to sight, only to disappear sometime later. Whatever the reason, a trip to one of the poles usually helped calm him in times of emotional distress.

He picture the Earth in its frozen state, when most of the land masses resembled the one he currently strode on. He never thought God could make something more beautiful than that. The visual definition of serenity and light, as each particle of water and ice reflected the sunlight so hypnotically. But then the Creator melted the ice, let it thaw, and the angels witnessed the growth of the plants and forests, and saw Him bring forth new ecosystems that would birth immeasurable quantities of life. Formerly the most gorgeous reflector of light, almost as bright as Heaven itself, the Earth grew its own unique beauty, unlike the shine of the stars. It became luminous in its own right through the colors it projected and the life it nurtured.

The knees of his vessel felt weak from the memory. Beauty in its purest form. His Father in his prime. A time when everything felt so glorious. Heaven was united, the angels were strong, and God was all-knowing, all encompassing. Existence was simple. "Life was good," as the humans said.

Humanity. His mood threatened to turn sour. Everything had been humanity's fault. He wondered, not for the first time, if God had created mankind simply because he no longer cared about this beautiful creation. Or because he had realized that was as good as it was ever going to get, so he was intentionally destroying it all in some desperate attempt to find new inspiration with a different canvas.

Why, Lucifer thought sadly, why destroy this one though? Why not just make a new world to experiment again? Why destroy something so perfect, so beautiful?

He feared that the answer might be so infuriatingly simple. Why not? God was eternal, after all. Perhaps this had not been his first Earth. Just the first one he had decided to share Heaven with. Perhaps the Creator just got bored of beauty every few million years.

"Lucifer," he felt a whisper tickling his Grace, and tilted his head down to listen. Castiel was calling him. A smirk formed on his lips. He knew it would not take the human long.

[xxx]

The Morningstar was careful to wipe his smug expression off his face before approaching his brother, staring pensively down at the grounds of the hospital that had housed him for a time. Interesting place to retreat to. He approached the younger calmly.

"I'm assuming the meeting did not go well then," he breathed softly.

Castiel's jaw clenched, and he turned his head away from the older. "He no longer trusts me."

"Because of getting sent to Purgatory?"

"Partially."

"And the other part?"

The former soldier turned to meet his eyes, and for the first time since his original escape from Hell, he saw hatred and disdain reflected in the steel blue of his vessel's irises. "Because of my association with you."

Lucifer scoffed. "He hates you for talking to your brother?"

"He does not trust you. When I tried to explain to him that without you I likely would never have been able to recover him from Purgatory, he would not listen. He told me that I could not associate with the leader of Hell and still claim to be on their side. He wants me to choose. But even then it is doubtful he will trust me."

"He wants you to 'choose?' He is aware that life doesn't actually work like those damn hospital dramas he's so addicted to, right? This isn't a choice between the mysterious-and-slightly-stuck-up-but-secretly-sens itive stud surgeon and the socially-awkward-yet-loyal nurse." it occurred to him only after the comparison left his mouth that Castiel would not understand a word of that. The raven-haired seraph only squinted.

"I will not lose Dean. I fought too hard for him to risk losing him over a relationship with a brother I barely know."

Lucifer couldn't contain his rage at that. "A brother you barely know? You barely knew a thing about yourself before I found you in the hospital below us. You know me about as well as I know you at this point, Castiel, because I helped you find your wings again, and we are one in the same. For a while there I actually started to think that maybe you were beginning to be okay with that, too. And if we're going by the Biblical sense of "knowing," you definitely know me a Hell of a lot better than you know him." He did not even attempt to prevent the grin that spread across his features as Castiel's jaw dropped.

"You abom-"

"-And don't you dare try to condemn me for doing something you clearly enjoyed and needed at the time. You were angry. You were upset. You were ready to kill me or anything near you. You know who murders in times of despair? Humans and demons. I diverted the emotions you were not used to handling in to something more… pleasant, shall we say. I'm not expecting any thank-yous but I'm not going to stand here and take abuse for it because the idea makes you a little uncomfortable. You're inhabiting a human body, Castiel. Remember that. You might be an angel but as soon as you enter a vessel you become a body, too. Physicality is hardwired in to these meatsuits. And the longer you spend in one, the more respect you need to give it. Otherwise you'll just end up destroying it." Lucifer turned to leave.

"Wait," Castiel called. He did not see his brother's smirk. There were words he wished to say. So many ways to express his thoughts, and yet he could form none. So he decided on something less difficult. "When you were cast out of Heaven… Did it trap you in a body?"

Lucifer laughed breathily. "Of sorts. Sometimes it felt like I had one. Sometimes it felt like I didn't. I couldn't keep track of what form I was in. The cage messes with you, Cas. It's meant as a prison. But it never let me feel like an angel." His voice sounded too vulnerable for his liking the next he spoke. "You make me feel like an angel again."

The words tasted bitter. Vulnerability was not a position he liked to put himself in, regardless of however it might aid in manipulation. He spread his unseen wings and left, returning to the tundra that provided him a sweet nothingness to sort out his thoughts. Castiel wasn't meant to know just how desperate he was for a family again.

[xxx]

Please leave any comments or constructive criticism. I cannot promise when the next update will be but just know that this story is not over yet. Patience will be rewarded with more chapters. Comments will be rewarded with more frequent updates (in theory). Thank you so much again for reading! Until next time.