Chapter Nineteen

Had my 24th birthday May 13! My boss bought me Season Seven of Supernatural and Supernatual gave me the season eight finale! And what a gift that was! Totally epic!

"Dean!" Sam shouted in fear. He suddenly yelled in pain, as though someone were torturing him. "Dean!"

"Sammy, I'm right here!" shouted Dean. "Look at me!"

"No!" Sam yelled, throwing his head back and yelling again.

"Did you do this, Jonathan?" Warren asked him.

"No," said Jonathan. "I don't know what's wrong with him."

Dean whipped his head over to them. "Shut up!" He looked up at Willow. "Is there anything you can do?"

"I-I might be able to knock him out," Willow told him. "You know, magic sleep."

"Alistair, please!" Sam begged, fighting Dean's hold. "Stop!"

"Do it," said Dean.

Willow knelt down next to Sam, placing her hands on the sides of his head and closing her eyes. "Dormi."

Sam's eyes slid closed as his head dropped to his chest. Dean made sure he was comfortable before turning towards the three nerds.

"Dude, what's his problem?" asked Warren.

"None of your business, that's what," growled Dean, standing and stepping towards them.

"Alright, boys, what are we gonna do?" said Buffy. "Can't exactly kill ya."

"And that's your undoing, Slayer," said Warren. "'Cause we won't hesitate to—"

"Buffy, is that money?" asked Willow.

Buffy and Dean followed her gaze to a hundred dollar bill on the floor in front of a trunk.

"That—that's Monopoly money," blurted Andrew.

Dean stepped over to the bill, picking it up. "Oh, yeah. Ben Franklin looks just like that Monopoly guy." He flung the trunk open to find it full of cash. He frowned over at them. "You don't have a lock on this? You don't even hide it? Really?"

"You're the ones who hired the M'Fashnik guy to rob the bank," said Buffy.

"You'll never prove it," said Warren.

"No," said Castiel, appearing behind them and causing them to jump. "But the police will."

Dean ran the bill through his fingers. "Banks track those serial numbers on bills, don't they?" He gave them a wicked smile. "And your fingerprints are all over them."

The next second, the trio and the trunk of cash vanished along with Castiel.

Dean lowered his now empty hand. "Have a fun three to five years in the slammer, boys."

Castiel appeared in the room once again.

"We should take you on all our hunts," said Dean before stepping over to Sam and kneeling in front of him. "Cas, can you help him?"

"What should I help him with?" asked Castiel.

"No, I meant heal him," said Dean.

Castiel frowned a little, avoiding Dean's eyes.

"Cas?" asked Dean.

"I can't," Castiel told him.

"You what?" said Dean.

"I have rebelled against the angels," Castiel explained. "I am cut off from heaven and much of heaven's power. Certain things I can do. Certain things I can't."

"You can't help Sam?" asked Dean with a broken look on his face.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel told him.

"It's okay, Cas," Dean said. "It wasn't your fault. We'll get Sammy through this."

"Even if I wasn't cut off, I'm not sure I could heal this type of affliction," Castiel said.

Dean nodded. "Yeah…Can you just get us back to the house?"

*********************************************SPN/B TVS*********************************************** ************

Dean stood at the railing of the basement stairs, watching Sam sleep on his cot. He still had not woken up since Willow had put him out, and that was five hours ago. And Dean was starting to worry.

"How's he doing?" Buffy asked on the stairs behind him.

"Still sleeping," Dean told her, staring nervously at Sam.

"Hey, don't worry," Buffy said. "Sometimes, spells last for a while. He'll be fine."

"I'm just worried about what state he'll be in when he wakes up," said Dean. "How's Sir Flies-a-Lot."

"Praying, I think," Buffy told him. "Or he could be sleeping."

"Angels don't sleep," Dean informed her.

"Oh," said Buffy. "Ever?"

"Nope," said Dean. "Gets a little creep when he watches you sleep."

Buffy grimaced. "Yikes."

Sam moaned suddenly from the cot, turning his head on the pillow.

"I'll get him some water," said Buffy, heading back up the stairs.

"Thanks," said Dean, heading over to him. "Hey, rise 'n shine, Sammy."

Sam opened his eyes, squinting up at him. "Dean?"

Dean crouched next to the cot. "Hey, buddy, how you doing?"

Sam frowned around at the basement. "Where are we?"

"Buffy's," Dean answered.

"When'd we get here?" asked Sam. "What happened with those guys?"

"Jail," Dean replied. "Cas took 'em. You, uh…you started hallucinating."

Sam's eyes widened slightly. "Alistair…That's right. I saw him in the basement…" He suddenly looked over towards the far wall with even wider eyes.

"Sam?" asked Dean.

Sam glanced up at Dean and then back at the wall. "I take it you don't see him."

Dean followed his gaze to the wall. "Who is it?"

Sam hesitated. "Me."

Dean looked back at him. "You?"

"Well…younger me…" said Sam. He trailed off as he seemed to be listening to the hallucination.

Dean waited patiently, hoping that it would go away after some time.

"I tried," said Sam. "I did. It didn't pan out that way. Sorry, kid."

He listened for a while longer. Dean just knelt there and watched him, waiting it out.

"Look," Sam clenched his jaw. "They killed Jessica." He then gritted his teeth. "I know."

Sam frowned suddenly. "But I'm not. I was tricked, and I'm stopping it now. I'm doing the right thing for once."

Dean's heart clenched at that sentence. He hated that Sam felt he was always a failure. True, Sam had done some questionable things, but it was all in the name of good. He had thought it was the right thing.

"Sam," said Dean, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Sam looked up at him.

"It's not true," said Dean. "You were never evil. You have a good heart. It just got lost."

Sam gave a shaky smile. "But then you came and found me."

Dean smiled at him. "You bet I did."

"Geez, do you guys always dot his much bromancing?" said Buffy.

Dean cleared his throat and patted Sam on the shoulder before withdrawing his hand. "Considering how much we kick ass, I think we're allowed a little leniency on that."

Sam glanced around the basement as he sat up. "He's gone."

"Well, there you go," said Dean. "Whenever you start seeing stuff, I'm just one yell away. I'll chase 'em off."

Sam smiled gratefully as he accepted the glass of water. He tried to hold the glass steady, but his hands were shaking too much.

"Here," said Dean, taking the glass and holding it up to Sam's mouth.

Sam took a sip before pulling his head away.

"More than that," Dean told him.

Sam sighed before taking a few gulps of water.

Dean pulled the glass away and set it on the floor. "'Atta boy."

"Thanks," said Sam, swinging his legs over the side of the cot.

"Whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?" said Dean, his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"The bathroom," Sam told him.

Dean pulled his hand away. "Oh."

Sam stood on shaky legs, wavering a little as his head spun.

Dean steadied him with a hand under his elbow. "Whoa, you good?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah…good."

"Okay," said Dean, following Sam up the stairs in case he should fall.

As Sam turned the corner and passed through the kitchen and dining room on his way upstairs, Dean found Castiel sitting stiffly at the dining room table, his eyes closed.

"I thought you liked to go all invisible when you prayed," said Dean as he sat at the table across from him. "You know, peace and quiet."

"I am no longer able to do so," said Castiel without opening his eyes.

"'Cause of being cut off from heaven?" asked Dean.

"Yes," said Castiel.

Dean frowned. "But you did it the other day, and that was after you rebelled."

Castiel final opened his eyes. "My power is slowly fading. Given enough time, it will…drain away."

"Are you saying you'll eventually become…human?" asked Dean.

Castiel nodded.

"Wow…" muttered Dean.

Castiel closed his eyes once more.

"So, who are you praying to?" asked Dean. "God?"

"I am not praying at the moment," Castiel told him. "I am listening."

"Listening?" asked Dean. "To the angels? Like Anna could?"

"Yes," said Castiel.

"What are they saying?" asked Dean curiously.

"They are searching for another way to force Sam to break the final seal," said Castiel.

"Bastards," Dean growled.

Castiel opened his eyes and looked at him, frowning.

"No offense," Dean quickly covered.

Sam stumbled into the room, making his way back towards the basement.

"Sam," said Castiel, standing.

Sam turned towards him. "Yeah?"

"I need to hide you," said Castiel, stepping over towards him.

Sam stared at him. "You need to what?"

Castiel reached a hand out and touched Sam's chest. Sam groaned and doubled over.

"Hey!" said Dean, standing.

Castiel reached over with his other hand and touched Dean's chest, causing him to also groan and double over. The pain was so deep and burning, Dean had to wonder if Castiel wasn't touching his soul.

"What the hell was that?" asked Dean.

"An Enochian sigil," said Castiel. "It'll hide you from every angel in creation."

"What, did you just brand us with it?" asked Dean.

"No," stated Castiel. "I carved it into your ribs."

Dean stared at him. "Oh. And you didn't do this earlier because…"

"My efforts to shield you from the angels may cease soon with my powers draining," Castiel explained. "Now, you will be protected no matter what happens to me."

"Okay," said Sam, rubbing at his sore chest. "Thanks…I guess." He turned and headed back downstairs to hopefully sleep off most of the detox.

Dean watched him go, starting to take a step towards him to help him down the stairs, but he stopped, not wanting to encroach on him. He listened carefully to Sam's footfalls on the stairs, flinching when he heard him stumble a little. When Sam didn't yell out, Dean relaxed as the echo of boots on wood ceased.

"You remind me of Michael," said Castiel.

Dean turned towards Castiel with a frown. "Who?"

"My brother," said Castiel.

"The archangel Michael?" asked Dean.

Castiel nodded. "He is one of the eldest angels. He looks after all of us…keeps us safe. When one of my brothers or sisters has been injured, he looks so worried as he tends to them." He gazed down at the floor, lost in his memories.

"You miss them, don't you?" said Dean. "Your family?"

"Yes," said Castiel. "Very much."

Dean hesitated before awkwardly reaching out and putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "It'll be okay. As soon as we get this Lillith-Ruby-Lucifer mess taken care of, your family will get their act back together."

Castiel smiled as he reached his hand across his chest, resting it atop Dean's hand. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean stared at Castiel's hand on top of his. "Uh…yeah…No problem…"

Castiel took his hand back, and Dean quickly pulled his own back. Dean sometimes hated how Castiel just did not have a clue. It was a little annoying how he seemed to have no boundaries, but then again, how could you really get mad at the guy? He was just so naïve that way.

"So, uh…you heard any seal chatter on angel radio?" Dean quickly changed the subject.

Castiel nodded.

"How many are left?" asked Dean.

"Ten," said Castiel.

"Ten?" asked Dean in alarm.

"They are falling faster," said Castiel. "I do not believe we have much longer."

"Well, can you track down Ruby?" asked Dean. "She's trying to find a way to kill Lillith."

"Of course," said Castiel.

"But—" said Dean quickly before he could disappear, "just find her. Sam and I wanna take her out."

Castiel nodded and vanished.

************************************************** ****SPN/BTVS************************************** ***********************

Dean rinsed off the last dish, putting it on the dish drainer next to the sink. Dinner had been eventful. Buffy had ordered pizza, which everyone had sat down to, including Sam. But the withdrawal was taking its toll on Sam, and he hadn't finished the first slice before bolting towards the upstairs bathroom to throw it all up. He had since retreated back to his basement cot to sleep some more.

Bobby had called during dinner to give updates and get them back. His hunts seemed to be going okay. Then again, everything seemed a piece of cake compared to the seals and the apocalypse. Castiel still had not returned from searching for Ruby, so she must really be hiding. Everyone had headed to sleep a few minutes ago, leaving Dean with the dishes.

Dean grabbed a towel to dry his hands off, leaning against the kitchen island.

"Dean!"

Dean jolted away from the counter, dropping the towel and darting for the door to the basement. Jumping down the stairs two or three at a time, he found Sam sitting bolt upright on the cot, staring up at the air next to him.

Dean hurried to the cot, crouching in front of him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Sammy, what is it? What do ya see?"

Sam stared up at the hallucination with wide, shocked eyes. "It's Mom."