Sam did not know what his brother had told the doctor and how he had talked her into releasing Castiel the next day. But hearing about all his injuries, he was not even sure they were qualified enough to keep the Angel alive. Somehow the doctor thought he himself was some kind of medic and so particularized each and every of Castiel's lesions and how they had treated them. Of course he would get the clinical record but the younger Winchester didn't plan on reading it. Frankly, it was hard enough to follow the doc now. He did not even understand half the terms she used and he could only hope he nodded in all the right places. A broken nose. Two cracked ribs. Three bruised ones. Major dermabrasion on both arms. A twisted knee. A moderate case of traumatic brain injury and a broken wrist that somehow reminded Sam of his encounter with the zombie a few years ago. Quite battered and bruised for an Angel.
"What about his teeth?" he asked with a frown thinking of the bloody molar Chuck had found in his hair.
"They are intact."
"Really? None missing?"
"No, why are you asking?" the doctor looked at Sam curiously.
The younger Winchester shrugged and tried to come up with a plausible excuse.
"One has been found and our people thought it had been his." Dean explained nonchalantly.
"No, no. Definitely not. He still has all teeth."
Dean shrugged: "We haven't had a DNA sample so we didn't know for sure. Poor guy surely has had enough - how do you think he got all those injuries, by the way? Did he... like fall from the third floor or something?"
Now it was the doctor who hiked her shoulders. "We are not entirely sure yet. But it looks as if someone beat him up. With a blunt object. Honestly, it looks as if they were out to kill him but strangely they stopped before they could accomplish the task. As if they had been interrupted. Really a blessing in disguise. A few more blows and you would no longer have to worry how to transport him back."

Although he didn't feel a bit like smiling Sam tried to put a small, not too artificial, smile on his face and thanked the woman: "We really appreciate your straightforwardness. You have been a great help." She nodded, and after a few seconds of silence turned to Castiel. After a brief examination of the still unconscious Angel - man? - she removed the respirator.

"He should wake up any minute now. When he does please let the nurse call me. I know, you surely have a lot of questions that you are eager to have him answer but keep in mind he is still very weak." With a friendly nod to both Winchesters she turned to leave but Dean had a last item: "Hey, Doc! Have you got any tissue samples of John Doe? Because you know, they would have to be destroyed with him undergoing the witness protection program. I assume you will arrange everything that's necessary?" The doctor nodded with a small smile. "I'll take care of it immediately." She then left the room finally.

"Ok, Sam, you heard the lady. What do we need to be able to take Cas with us? And where do we get it?"
"I don't know, Dean. Contrary to what you've made her believe, I am no medic. But I think a few cushions wouldn't hurt. I don't believe he will be able to stay awake the entire drive."
"Got any specific destination in mind?"
Sam shrugged. He had thought about that point but still was not sure. "We could head to Bobby's, although I don't think he'd like us showing up with Castiel there."
"But we need a place to hide for a few days, and besides the demon-proof panic room Bobby's got a hell of a lot of books. And he knows stuff. Sooner or later we'd end up on his porch anyway. We'll drive to his place."
Sam just shrugged. Dean had a point there. "How about you catch a little shut-eye and I stay here with Castiel? And in the afternoon we'll try to get a few supplies so we can leave tomorrow as soon as he is dismissed?"
The older Winchester yawned in agreement. Sam was right. He was dog tired and needed a few hours of sleep badly. "I'll stay in the car. Call me if..."
"Dean..." It was just a word. Muttered in a soft and hoarse voice. Barely audible. But it made Dean stop dead in his tracks.

Castiel blinked wearily at the brothers. He looked tired - even more tired than Dean felt. And there was fear in his eyes. Fear that made his next whispered words even more urgent: "We must... leave... now!" Both Winchesters exchanged glances and while Sam looked ready to grab the Angel and make a bolt for the car, Dean had a few objections. "Cas, you've just woken up, the doc said she can't dismiss you before tomorrow and even then she's got still a bad feeling. And frankly, I don't think you'd make it even to the door. And..."
"Dean. They're coming..." With each word Castiel got more worked up and upset. He struggled to kick back his duvet and sit up, his face grim, lines of worry - or pain - deep around his blue eyes. When he grabbed his infusion and was about to rip the needle out of the crook of his arm, Dean stopped him. "Whoa, Cas. Easy! You really mean it, don't you? Who's after you? What happened?"
The Angel grabbed the older Winchester's arm and hoisted himself up in a sitting position. He obviously sat up too quickly for Dean had to steady a very dizzy Castiel for a few seconds.
"Sam, are there any clothes? Or shoes?" While his brother searched for something to dress, the older Winchester carefully removed the tube connecting the Angel's arm with the infusion bag.
"No time... talk... in your car." Dean felt the Angel was slipping again. Pain and exhaustion pulling him down into a deep sleep. But there was nothing the older hunter could do against it. Castiel didn't want to talk before they were on the run again. And neither he nor his brother would have been able to keep him from running away if he really deemed it necessary.
"No clothes and no shoes, sorry. But I found a coverlet." Sam dropped the soft yellow cloth on the bed. It looked fluffy, soft and cuddly. Like it did not belong here. "Dean, you take the car to the back entrance and I wrap Cas up and carry him out as quickly as possible."
His brother nodded. "Sounds like a plan."
"But first... remove the catheter, please."
Dean grimaced. "Why me?!"
"Because you've already touched him there."

Sam felt like he was carrying a giant burrito. A giant Angel burrito. With a mop of unruly dark hair showing where no beans or cheese or salsa were used as filling but a human - or angelic - being. It was a somewhat weird image. Although the Angel was much shorter than Sam and lighter built than both Winchesters, he got heavier by the minute. Sam could not take the elevator and had to use the stairs. If someone - anyone - spotted him... There was no way Sam would have been able to outrun someone with his heavy... snack... Fortunately, he could avoid running into any other person on his way out. The impala was waiting - engine already running - only a few meters from the steps leading to freedom. Sam stumbled on the short stair and nearly dropped his cargo. He sprained his ankle but then Dean was next to him, taking the huge burrito and stuffing it - him - whatever - into the backseat. They were already half a state away when there was movement under the yellow blanket again.

Dean stopped the car next to a small forest and both brothers turned around to meet Castiel's weary but otherwise wide awake blue eyes.
"How ya feelin', Cas?" Dean asked although there were more urgent questions on his mind.
The Angel furrowed his brow and said softly: "This body is... hurt. I am not used to this sensation... It is very unpleasant. I cannot even breath without my ribs aching."
"Because they are broken," Sam explained, "and as soon as they hurt more than they do now or as soon as something else hurts, please tell us. It could be something serious."
Castiel nodded, an expression of mild confusion on his face.
Dean could no longer hold back and asked the first of many questions waiting for an answer: "Do you remember what happened at Chuck's? We found... Angel giblets all over his place. And even a mole inside his hair."
"I died." Castiel answered matter-of-factly as if he was talking about the weather.
Dean shot a glance at his brother but was met with an equally wide eyed look. No, he'd heard right. "You died?"
"Yes. I tried to hold back the Archangel. As anticipated I was... no match for him. Although, I believe... I could delay him... long enough." Castiel started to sound a bit breathless and Dean knew it was because of the broken and bruised ribs troubling him.
But still, he could not let it go. "So you died. But, you know, you don't really look like how I pictured an angelic corpse."
"I was revived."
"By whom?" Sam asked. "God?" Dean was willing to forgive the guy a lot of the shit he had dropped on the Winchesters' heads if he had had the decency to bring Cas back . But they were both met with silence. Pregnant silence.
"Oh... crap..." Dean mouthed his horror eloquently.
Sam was apparently on the same page: "You mean... Lucifer...? The devil? Why did he bring back an Angel?"
Castiel carefully lowered himself again onto the backseat with a sigh. "I do not know." He had already said too much. He was not going to blurt out more.