Chapter Two: Ask Forgiveness

He had hoped the three men were still at Bobby's. He'd also hoped they hadn't gotten around to re-warding the house, correctly this time.

Luck, or Fate or God, was on his side. He slipped from one place to the other and landed squarely in Bobby's living room.

It was night again. He'd had no sense of the passing of time in the garden. And Dean was once more asleep on the couch. He noticed that some of the symbols on the windows had been changed, but still weren't quite correct. He'd have to teach Bobby how to do it properly. If he was allowed to teach them anything at all.

He watched Dean sleep, unwilling to wake him and begin the conversation. He knew the hunter was tired. He also knew that he had no idea how to convince Dean, or the others, of his sincerity or his honesty. He had lied to them so many times. And what he had said last time, to Dean…the challenges, the veiled insults...he had no idea how one apologized for that.

Dean stirred, his innate senses as a hunter bringing him alert. Green eyes opened, then focused with sudden sharp clarity on him, where he stood by the fireplace. The last dregs of sleep cleared from Dean's gaze in an instant, and the hunter sat bolt upright.

He didn't know how to start, and said the only thing he could think of. "Hello Dean."

Dean stared at him a moment, then rose to his feet, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Guess we still didn't get it quite right."

"No. Some of the sigils are slightly off." Three of them that he could see had extra lines, and one was missing two. Not a surprise, given that they were intricate and probably hastily erected warding symbols.

Dean turned, a smile that was more of a grimace on his face. "Yeah, well, let's fix that shall we?" There was a flash of a knife, the copper scent of blood as he spun around.

"Wait." He moved before he could think, caught Dean's hand before the hunter could start drawing. "Stop. Please." He saw the long cut on Dean's arm. A brush of his fingers healed it as if it had never been. "Please."

Dean looked at him, then jerked his arm free. "Why are you here, Cas?"

"Because I..." He looked away, unable to meet that green-eyed gaze, so filled with hurt and disgust and anger. "I need to speak with you."

"Yeah, really?" A sneer moved over Dean's face. "What? Another rant on how I don't know what you're doing, but you do? How I should just get out of your way, let you and Crowley go about this Purgatory business of yours? How you're an angel, and I'm just a man? That I should just trust you?" He turned his back, sharply. "Save it. I'm not interested."

"None of those." He clenched his jaw, then forced the anger away. "I came because...I wanted to say...I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you said that before too." There was no softening of the hunter's profile, or his voice.

"I mean it."

"Yeah?" Dean whirled back around, eyes blazing. "Like you meant it when you supposedly torched Crowley's bones? Like you meant it when you were supposedly looking into those demons? Like you meant it when you lied about how Sam came back?" Dean's jaw clenched, and he practically spat the last words. "Give me one good fucking reason why I should believe a single thing that comes out of your mouth."

There was one action he could take. One that meant more to him than any other, even if Dean might not understand it. The most sincere offering he could give.

He met Dean's blazing gaze. "No. Not like that." He bowed his head, then slowly lowered himself until his knees touched the worn wood and carpet of Bobby's floor, hands by his sides in a posture of submission and supplication such as he had only ever used in pleading God's favor. "I mean that I am sorry, and that I will do whatever you ask of me, to prove my sincerity." He raised his gaze, not to Dean's face, but level with his ribcage, taking the posture of subjugation that Raphael had demanded of him and he had refused. "Ask me."

Dean stood frozen. Footsteps pounded on the stairs and base boards, and Sam and Bobby entered the room a moment later, both showing signs of having slept in their clothes. Bobby looked tired. "Dean, what the hell's all the..." He stopped, seeing Castiel there.

Sam stopped behind him, eyes blinking as he took in the scene. He frowned. "Castiel?"

Bobby sighed. "Damn it. Guess we didn't get the warding quite right."

"No." His instincts, his pride, screamed at him to rise, but he forced himself to remain where he was. "But I can show you what you did wrong."

"Uh-huh." Bobby watched him a moment, then stepped further into the room, flanking Dean on the left as Sam moved to flank him on the right. "Sure you can. Problem is, not sure I'd trust your drawings to do any better than mine."

He deserved that. "Understandable."

Sam was still frowned. He cocked his head to the side. "Why are you kneeling?" He glanced at his brother. "Dean?"

"Wasn't me." Dean looked puzzled as well, if still angry.

"No. It wasn't. But it is because of you." He sighed. "This is...it seemed like the only thing I could do."

"Yeah. I got one for you. How about you tell us the truth. The whole truth this time. Why you were working with Crowley. What's this war in Heaven really about?" Dean bent down to squat in front of him. "You wanna prove to me that you're sincere, why don't you fill us in on the big picture? Without the lies and evasions."

"Fair." He bowed his head again, wondering where to begin. Then it came to him. Begin where he had begun with God. "It's a long story."

"Yeah, well, we're all ears." Bobby settled on the couch, Sam on a chair, and Dean stood and leaned against the wall.

He took a deep breath, more to steady himself than because he needed air. "You know I was resurrected when Lucifer and Micheal were locked in the Cage."

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"Michael's imprisonment led to...chaos, of sorts. There was no clear leader in Heaven after him. Without the fulfillment of the Final Battle, my brethren were lost, confused. Many of them came to me, seeking advice, seeking guidance, leadership." He shook his head. "I tried to explain what I had learned from you, of free will and choice. For many angels, this is a difficult concept. We were...it's not something angels are used to. And then...Raphael came."

He swallowed against the bitterness that rose in him. "Raphael's plan is to claim the throne of Heaven. Once he does that, he intends to restart the Apocalypse, release Michael and Lucifer, and force the Final Battle to decide the fate of Heaven and Earth. There is only one obstacle in his path."

"Let me guess. You." Dean's voice was dry, but calmer than it had been.

"Yes." He paused, trying to put words to the concept. "Killing me would mean nothing. He's already done that and I came back. That Lucifer also killed me, and I was resurrected as a higher class of angel...many angels, even ones who follow Raphael, believe that it marks me as favored by the Father in some way." He had no way of knowing, not even with his own resurrection. "To kill me in cold blood would make of me a martyr. He needs my death to be in open combat, in rebellion. Unless something else happens first."

"Something else? Like what?" Sam's turn to interrupt.

"Raphael's intention is to make me kneel before him and swear loyalty to him and his cause, to force me to acknowledge his claim as Heaven's ruler. Once that happens, any opposition would melt away. I imagine that what happens to me after that wouldn't matter much." He shook his head. "He demanded that I kneel before him, in front of the Heavenly Host." He looked away from the three hunters. "I refused."

"You refused. Why?" Dean's voice was sharp, the tone he used on a hunt.

"I told you. Because Raphael will destroy everything. Everything I did in rebellion, everything you sacrificed, all of it would mean nothing if Raphael claims the throne of Heaven. Both of you would be called upon to be the vessels again." He swallowed. "I imagine, after being locked in the Cage, Sam's resources for resistance would be...diminished." He paused. "I told Raphael I wouldn't let that happen." He looked up into Dean's eyes, silently pleading for the hunter to believe him. "I swear, all I wanted was to stop him from undoing everything. I never wanted to take it any further than that. But he...wouldn't listen to me."

"And?" Bobby shifted on the couch.

"We fought. I lost." He remembered blood on his lips, the pain of the beating Raphael had administered.

"Lost? Lost as in, he got a lucky punch in, or lost as in..."

"He completely defeated me, without more than a token effort." he swallowed, struggling to find words for concepts that had no meaning in human terms, to explain how completely Raphael outmatched him. "Raphael is an archangel. It makes him powerful, and well supported. He is...far stronger than I am. And older. Much older."

"How much older, exactly?"

He wondered how they would take this news. If it was even comprehensible to them. "I can remember when the first amphibian meant to evolve into man came out of the sea. Raphael...he can remember when your sun and planet were first formed from nothingness."

"Damn. Seriously? The first amphibian?"

"Yes." he glanced up into Dean's face, then away. "My brother...Gabriel actually, told me not to step on it."

"Okay..."

"Back to the story." Sam met his gaze. "So...You defy Raphael. He cleans your clock, and...what?"

"He gave me a day to come to terms with the fact that he would make me submit to him." He thought about telling Dean where he had gone, then decided not to. "I came to Earth, to think. And Crowley approached me with a deal. His help in opposing Raphael, for help in claiming Purgatory."

"How does that work, exactly?"

"All souls are energy. Demons and angels both have the power to use and manipulate the energy of human souls. And, I suppose, the souls of monsters. I don't know, I've never actually tried it." He shook his head. "If Lucifer returns, he could reclaim the throne of Hell. Crowley doesn't want that. Whether Micheal could defeat Raphael is a little less certain, but...it's not of import."

"So skip to the important part."

"Raphael controls more of Heaven's power than I do. He can touch more souls. He knows more. It's...difficult to explain. Being older gives him several advantages. And being an archangel...even if we were the same age, he would outmatch me." He paused, feeling his way through the tangles of concepts. "Crowley...offered me help in opposing Raphael. Enough power to compete with him, at least temporarily. In return, he wanted me to help him find Purgatory, and harness the power inside it. The souls of the monsters. Soul energy absorbed gives the one who takes it more knowledge, more power."

"Yeah. And you said touching a soul was like sticking your hand in a nuclear reactor."Bobby's voice was dry.

"It is. But that's the point. Enough nuclear reactors...I could defeat Raphael. But..." he clenched his jaw. "It took me the energy of 50,000 souls to even temporarily check Raphael's efforts. To truly stop him..."

"Death said it's all about the souls." Dean shifted, then paced restlessly away from the wall. "So, what? You guys take the souls of Purgatory as a power supply? You bust Raphael? What does Crowley get out of this?"

"He cements his position as the King of Hell. I doubt he's the only powerful demon down there. Just the fastest one."

"Why Purgatory?" Sam's question was quiet.

"Because the souls of monsters are neutral. Humans are good or evil, in general. And in heaven, as likely to go to Raphael's aid as mine. The energy of Purgatory, harnessed properly, is literally anyone's to use. And since it's Purgatory, they're already energy, instead of tied to a physical form."

"Okay. So let's see if I've got this straight." Dean turned on his heel, then faced him. "Raphael cleans your clock. Crowley offers to help you one-up him, return the favor. Then you and Crowley tag team to get a nuclear mother-lode in your hands so you can divvy up Heaven and Hell? And you thought this was a good idea?"

"I thought that I could handle Crowley. And it was the only idea I had."

"Yeah. Well, I got one." Dean moved forward, then crouched so that they were face to face. "Why the hell didn't you come to me? Me and Bobby? I told you, time and time again...all you had to do was ask, and we'd have done everything we could for you. Even if it was just hide you for a while till you could think of something." His jaw clenched, eyes snapping with anger. "So why the hell did you go off and make a friggin demon deal? Tell me that."

He looked away. "I...I came to you. At the house you were staying in. You were raking leaves in the yard. I watched you. And I thought..." He couldn't finish.

Dean forced it. "Thought what?"

"You had sacrificed everything. Your father. Your brother. Your friends. Your life. I didn't want to ask you to give more. I didn't think it would be fair to involve you in Heaven's war. Not after everything we had already done to you." He shook his head. "When I was watching…you weren't happy. But you were...at peace, of sorts. You were...grieving, but..."

"But he was out. Settled. Looked like he might come to terms with things." Bobby sat back, arms folded across his chest. "Same reason I didn't tell him when Sam came back to the life."

"Exactly." He was relieved the old hunter understood him. He looked into Dean's eyes. "Perhaps it was wrong, but I swear...all I wanted was to protect you from this."

"But you raised Sam."

"Yes. But that was before Raphael." He struggled with the logic that had once seemed so clear. "I thought it was the right thing to do. And since I had managed to raise you..." He stopped, shame filling him at what had clearly been a monumental act of hubris. "Afterward, I thought it would make him less accessible to Raphael. And that his existence might be helpful. Necessary. And when Crowley agreed, I thought that was the end of it." He shook his head. "I should have known there was something wrong then."

Sam rose from his seat, came and crouched beside Dean. He caught that hazel gaze, then turned away, feeling the shame that burned thorough him intensify. He knew Sam's question before it was asked. "Cas, did you raise me from hell soulless, on purpose?"

"No. I swear it." He forced himself to look at the two brothers. "I...when I decided to release you...I..." He shook his head in frustration. "The cage is the deepest part of Hell. The worst. It's...unimaginable. If I'd stopped to think, perhaps I would have been more careful. As it was I was stronger than before Lucifer killed me. I thought that would make a difference, allow me to take you. And I was...arrogant. I had managed to rescue Dean safely, in spite of fierce opposition. I was sure that getting you out was simple. But being that deep, being so close to my brothers...it was...unsettling. And the cage is meant to be far more inaccessible than where Dean was. When I seized you from Hell and brought you back, I wasn't thinking clearly. So I didn't check that I had done the job properly. I simply returned you." He bowed his head. "I am sorry. That was a grievous mistake on my part. But I swear to you, I didn't know that I had failed you so badly until Dean called me and asked me to check on you. That was the first time I knew."He forced himself to look into Sam's eyes. "I swear it Sam, I never would have done that to you on purpose. I didn't know. I made a mistake." He looked away again. "I can't tell you how sorry I am that I failed you like that."

"Why didn't you tell us you could get him? Why didn't you go and bring the rest of him back when I asked?" Dean seized his shoulder and jerked him around, eyes blazing.

"Because I wasn't sure I could, having failed the first time. And I knew what I had left him to. Where I had left him. I got a glimpse of the cage. I knew what condition he would be in, what he might have endured. I...didn't want to bring him back to that. I told you...his soul was broken, burned, tortured, practically flayed alive." Sam paled, looking sick. Castiel met his gaze, trying to convey his remorse. "To bring that back...I didn't want to do that to you, because I didn't think I could fix it if I did. A wall...it didn't occur to me. And I'm not sure I could have made one strong enough."

Dean let go of him, sat back with a sigh. "Yeah, well...Death's got a lot of funky tricks, I guess."

"He is older than I am."

"Fine." Dean stood up, pacing the way he did when he was agitated. "So now what?"

"I don't know. Crowley is on the path to finding the gateway to Purgatory, and he's close to succeeding. And Raphael is hunting me."

"And you? What do you plan to do?" Dean turned to look at him.

"I don't know. Crowley's plan is the only one I had. Every attempt I've made at an alternative plan has ended in failure."

"What about the weapons you got from Balthazar? I thought you said they were a trump card."

"They might have been at one point. But not by the time I retrieved them. I achieved a stalemate. No more." he shook his head regretfully.

"So we're back to you opening Purgatory with the help of the King of Hell. Great."

"No. We are back to Crowley trying to open Purgatory, and me...here, asking you to forgive me, because I don't know what else to do."

Dean came back to him, stood looking down at him. "Why the change of heart? You seemed pretty damn set on this last time we talked."

"Because I..." It was so hard to speak these words. He was terrified of their rejection. It had been bad enough fighting with Dean before. "Because...the whole point of this was to protect you, because you are my brothers...my family. If I succeed, but destroy that...what was I fighting for? I was praying, and I realized that. Or had it explained to me. Besides..." He looked into Dean's face. "You told me once, that there was a right and a wrong way to do things. And that I should know what that is. Raphael is wrong. But Crowley...isn't right. And you...you weren't wrong the first time."

He looked away, unable to meet Dean's gaze for his final confession. "I remember what I felt, when you asked me to help you find Sam, when you sent me away for being too cowardly to help you. This...felt the same. And it made me think...that perhaps it was the same. And I didn't want..." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I didn't want to fail."

"What is it you do want?"

"Your help. Stopping Raphael. And Crowley, if we must. I don't know how either one of those is possible, but...I do know I would rather die for you, beside you, than stand against you." He bowed his head once more. "I know you have no reason to trust me. If you wish to send me away, that would be understandable. But...there's nothing else I can say to you. And I don't know what else I can do."

"Yeah. Well, I guess I know where we can start." Dean's quiet voice was all the warning he had.

Strong hands seized the front of his jacket and hauled him to his feet. He found himself looking Dean in the eyes. Calm eyes, with the burning fire gone from them. Dean met his gaze squarely, and he looked back, waiting. Dean seemed to be searching him for something.

Finally, the hands fisted in his coat relaxed. "One final question. You said you didn't tell me this because you thought I was out. But you knew Sam brought me back into the life. Why not then, when we called you that first time?"

"Because...I was already working with Crowley. I was at war, and I was losing. I didn't want to involve you and..." He looked away. "I told you that I was ashamed of my brothers. I was also ashamed of myself." He still was.

"Okay." Dean didn't seem inclined to let him go. He waited.

Finally, Bobby broke the silence. "Well? What are you gonna do, boy?" The old hunter rose. "We can either settle down and powwow together to sort this mess out, or you can throw him out in the yard, or just flat banish his ass and see if he can escape from Raphael. But pick something, cause I'd like to get a little more sleep."

Dean held him a moment longer, then released him. "Let me make things clear. I'm still pissed. And it'll be a while before I trust you. That's just the way it is. You've lied to us too much for anything else."

"I know." He had nothing else to say.

The smallest of weary smiles touched Dean's mouth. "Still, as long as you're here...we'll do the best we can Cas. Not sure what, but we'll do what we can. Because you're right. I said we were family, so you have a right to ask us for help. So, come dawn, we'll get together and try and sort shit out. You stay here until then. Okay?"

"Yes." He glanced at the windows. "I can repair Bobby's warding symbols while you sleep."

"Sure. Whatever. Just...don't kneel anymore, okay." Dean shook his head. "That was friggin weird."

"If you wish." He came to the hunter's side, wary of being pushed away. "If you wish, I can help you sleep."

"Only if you have an alarm clock function. I'd like to wake in time for a decent breakfast." Dean shuffled, yawned.

"Of course. When?"

"Seven am. Bright and early." Bobby cracked his back.

"Very well. Sleep. I will wake you." A brief pulse of energy, and all three minds fell to sleep. He caught them with his power, sending Dean to the couch and the others to their beds. "Rest well." Then he turned to look at the warding again.

He had work to do.

Author's Note: Well, that went well. Of course, it's not going to be just THAT easy. And here's where the real roller-coaster ride begins.