Dean had felt betrayed before – in his career, it was more like granted. Yet, he could only recommend two times that had hurt as much Castiel's deed; and those two had both been committed by his own brother.

Sam.

Dean mentally cursed his current inability to move as he peeked his brother from the corner of his eye. Sam layed flat on his stomach, mostly like Dean did, but there was terror in his unfocussed eyes that had nothing to do with his paralyzed body. Whatever Sam was seeing was hurting him, and Dean could do nothing to help.

Damnit, Cas, how could you?! I trusted you! We were friends, weren't we? Or was it really that insignificant to you…?

Dean wanted to scream, wanted to punch his fists against floor till they bleed, if only that would dim the pain he felt inside himself. He wanted to hurt Castiel, wanted to kill him…!

He could admit that Castiel had have a shitty year. While Dean had been busy playing home with Lisa, and Sam had been on run with their grandfather, Castiel had been fighting in a civil war. He had probably felt abandoned and desperate – desperate enough to start plotting with Crowley, of all beings! – but that was just an explanation, not an excuse!

It wasn't as if Dean weren't man enough to confess that he had done plenty of shitty things in his life; he and Sam were pro for causing messes to all those unlucky enough to get too close of them. They had released Lucifer, made Bobby loose his legs, caused death of many of their friends… Dean had even condemned his own half-brother into the Cage without second thought. But Castiel should be more than that! He should be better…

Dean clenched his teeth and realized that he could use his jaws again, even if his tongue still remained unmovable. So, the effect of the powder was starting to wear off, just like Crowley had promised. And aren't it just grand that a demon's word is more trustworthy than an angels, Dean pondered darkly.

If only he could pin this all to Crowley…! That would make it so much easier; Crowley was a demon, he Dean was supposed to hate, unlike Castiel, who had a mournful puppy-eyes and who tilted his head like a bird whenever he didn't quite understand something… It would be so easy to think that he'd just been coerced into this by the demon. But Dean knew better than that: Castiel wasn't stupid, he wouldn't let Crowley to talk him into anything that he didn't want to participate.

From his other side, Dean heard mumbling, and grinned as he realized that Bobby had got his tongue into working; not very well, since Dean couldn't understand anything that the old hunter was saying, but he guessed that it was something totally improper.

Dean hoped that he could turn his head to look at him, but all he could do was just wait till his tongue felt alive enough to form syllables. Finally, it felt like he could try speaking.

"Aah yoo ohey?" he mumbled, hoping that Bobby both heard and understood him.

"Yeeh", came answer, and Dean sighed for relief. "Yooh hoo?"

"Im hine", Dean said. "Hams oufh." Out of his mind, he thought, but decided that maybe it was best to let Bobby drawn his own idea of that.

It was enough for a file, and they both fell in silence. Now, they could only wait…


Dean hated waiting.

"How long it takes, huh? When are they back?" he kept asking from the Reaper, who sat not far of them, but the man just kept reading on his magazine. That's best to be good porno…

"Leave it, Dean; he's not talking. At least, we can now talk and move our heads and upper bodies a bit", Bobby reasoned.

"How can you be so calm?! We're paralyzed!"

"I kinda know that idjit", Bobby growled out, "and this is not a feeling that I anticipated to feel again. But right now, loosing our nerves aren't going to help us at all."

Dean could grudgingly admit that the old hunter was right, yet it didn't help at all to cool him down. "And what if Crowley decides to kill us as soon as they return?"

"Even still, getting angry won't help this spell to wear of any quicker… Besides, I doubt that; if he wanted to kill us, he'd killed us, not that used that freaky powder to slow us down. Damn, if only I got him to tell me the recipe…"

"You would use this?!"

"Could be helpful, on hunt… Is Sam still out of the world?"

Dean glanced towards his brother. "No changes; I doubt that he even knows we're here."

"It'll be okay, Dean."

Dean laughed bitterly. "How? How can this ever be okay, again?"

To that, Bobby didn't answer anything.


He had no idea how long it had been; at one point, Dean most have been dreaming, since Sam's screams woke him up. He sounded like a tortured man, and it ripped Dean's heart apart to see his brother in such of pain and not being able to even help him.

"Sam? Sammy, knock it out! You're not in the Cage anymore, you're here, with us… You're safe, Sammy!"

No response. The screams continued little longer, before subduing into whimpers. Then, it was silent again.

Cas, you better come back and fix him up…

And then, I'm going to kill you.


Why did you do this to us? Is it because I wasn't there when you needed me? Is this some sort of revenge…?

No… You're not that kind of an angel.

Were you really this desperate? Then why didn't you tell me – tell us? Even when I was living with Lisa and Benny, you knew I would had come to your aid… didn't you? Or did you thought that I'd washed my hands clean of you?

Well, maybe I thought I was, but… I would had helped you, man.

Castiel…

Cas, when did we all became this messed up?


Dean was staring a cockroach as it walked past his hand, when sudden movement caught his eyes.

The reaper had put his magazine away and stood up, stretching his muscles. "It's time", he said simply, and vanished before Dean had time to say anything.

Soon he returned… and then, the figurative hell brook loose.

"Castiel, you idiot! You went to far with that, you need to…"

"I don't need to do anything you say, demon", Castiel interrupted coldly. "I have everything under control; your advices are no longer needed."

This can't be Castiel, Dean thought vehemently. Not this cold, uncaring being. It's some stupid thick that Crowley's pulled on us. The real Castiel must be still there, on the Purgatory…

Yet no matter how much he wanted, he couldn't make himself to believe that.

"Now on, I make the rules. You'll only get the souls that I let you have, and no more. No deal, no possessions, nothing."

Crowley was seemingly fuming. "Making me your office-boy? Well, someone's really feeling over-the-top, today…"

Castiel's eyes glowed. "Don't play coy with me, demon! I've grow tired of your games. You never had even a slightest intention to share the souls from purgatory with me, had things gone to your design… or did you, Crowley?"

"Well… maybe not as many as I've taken to myself… But I would had gave you enough to win your war! In… in Aziraphale's name, that much at least it's true!"

Castiel's mouth quirked, but it wasn't a very pleasant smile. "And just because of Aziraphale, I'll grant you this change to continue living your abnormal life… At least, till he decides that he no longer wants to associate himself with the kinds of you."

"Oh, that hurt!" Crowley muttered. Surprisingly, it really seemed like it had; but that, of course, had to be an act, Crowley didn't have enough feelings to get them hurt…

"Enough of this", Castiel said. "I've war to win and peace to return… both in Heaven and Earth…"

He spread his arms, and Dean could see his wings, formed from light… but he had no time to get impressed with that. "Hey! What about Sam? Are you going to do anything to fix your misgivings? Or have you already forgotten your old friends and comrades?!"

Castiel turned to look at him, but his gaze was eerie on its lack of any feelings or care. Even demons had more life in their eyes, they at least show glee and self-satisfaction, even if those were only malicious delights.

But Castiel…

Castiel looked at them, his friends, and seemingly felt nothing.

"You turned against me; why should I help you, now?"

Dean felt like boiling from inside out. "You did this to him! Now, fix him!"

But Castiel said, "No", and then…

… He was gone.

Dean's world was breaking into pieces, and all of them were sharp and cutting deep. No. With only one word, Castiel had doomed Sammy into his madness, getting tormented by his memories from the Cage without any release than… No, that one Dean couldn't even think about.

Crowley wasn't looking any happier, but Dean couldn't in his current state get any satisfaction even from that.

"As interesting as this all is", said the man that Dean hadn't so far paid any attention but noticing that he was wearing Castiel's coat and nothing else, at it seemed, "if this was it, I might feel inclined to take my departure."

"Yeah, me too", Crowley growled.

"So, you're going to leave, just like that?" Bobby suddenly raised his voice. "Not taking any responsibility, are you… your highness?"

Crowley turned to glare at him. "And what are you meaning with that, exactly, hmmm? Is it somehow my fault that your angel goes into rampage?"

"Cry a river, won't you? It's not like your all innocent party in this!"

"Well, I'm a demon, what else can you except? So I plot; that's kind of my job! And Castiel made his own decisions, it's not like I need to clean up his messes!"

Bobby looked the demon into eyes, and said with very firm tone, "No; but you said that Castiel would aid Sam back to his "previous, questionable sanity"… your words, not mine… And by saying that, you at the same time took responsibility of him doing that. So, as he left…"

"…Would mean that I either help you or it would seem like I'd eaten my word", Crowley finished. He frowned at them, before a smile formed its way on his lips; the way he looked at Bobby was almost… admiring. "You really know how to play this, don't you… Mr. Singer?"

Bobby shrugged, as best as his could while still laying on the ground. "You almost get to keep my soul because of formalities; I took time to prepare in similar situations, after that."

"Remarkable… Your way too good for the company you keep, love", Crowley leered, and as Bobby went all red, he turned to look the unknown man. "I know you owe nothing to me, but I would greatly appreciate if you could share some of your knowledge with me."

The man looked at them; his predatory eyes flew past Bobby and Dean and stopped to Sam. "What ails him?"

Crowley shrugged. "Shortly speaking, his soul spent some quality time in Lucifer's company, and the trauma caused by that now haunts him."

The man nodded. "I see; and luckily to you, I also know how to… ease his mind."

"At what cost?"

The man smirked, and his little too sharp tooth peaked behind thin lips. "At this time, I'll give my help to you on free of payment. If you must, you can think of it as a favor to my… brother." Then he gazed to Sam, his eyes softening a bit. "Besides, I know all too well how it feels to be trapped… and even if the chains that hold him into his memories aren't physical, they're just as real as those that chained me before you and your… friend set me free."

There was something raw in the man's voice, and the look on his face got just a little bit vulnerable as he spoke, and suddenly fragile hope raised its head inside of Dean's heart. "You can help him? You can… fix him?"

The man turned to look at him, with pity in his eyes. "Fix? Souls – and minds – aren't something you can just put together like broken china. It needs time to heal itself… it needs peace to do that. But with memories like his…? No, peace is not what he's able to feel right now. So what I'm giving to him, is something to keep his nightmares in check… something that guards his mind till he's strong enough to do it himself."

That sounded a bit suspicious. "What you mean? You're not putting anyone inside my brother's head!"

"No, Dean Winchester… What I'm giving him is no more real than those visions that haunt him; and that's why it can keep them on bay. They're… from the same realm, one would say."

Dean wasn't still quite sure, but then Bobby reached to lay his hand on his shoulder and said, "It's not like he can get a lot worse than this, Dean… And surely he'll get no better, if we don't do anything!"

So Dean nodded, while grimly deciding that if this was a fluke, nothing would stop him to hunt down all three of them – this man, Crowley and Castiel – and make them pay.

"No tricks", he warned, and if it came out as a growl, well, he really didn't care about courtesy right now.

The man just smirked. "You have a wolf in your heart, Dean Winchester; now, I'm lending one to your brother, too."

Dean was about to say something to that – since what did that even mean? – when Crowley said, "I think what he's trying to express is that you have a lion's heart, squirrel."

"Well, why didn't he just say that then?" Dean asked, but Crowley just raised his finger over his lips and nodded towards Sam; the man had kneeled before him and held his face between his hands – Dean noted that his nails were more like claws – and talked with low, even voice, using language that Dean couldn't quite recognize. He looked questioningly at Bobby.

"Sounds like Norwegian", Bobby whispered, "but it has a very strange dialect… or very old."

Dean turned back to Sam and could see that his eyes were now focused; first they stared at the man holding his face with fear, then with surprise, and finally, with peaceful gleam. His hand latched on man's arm, not pushing it or holding it down, but squeezing as if saying, "thank you"… and then, he close his eyes and fell asleep, his breaths deep and even, face peaceful at last.

The man gently lowered his head on the floor before standing up. "I've done what I can; he still remembers everything that he's gone through, but those memories no longer has a hold over his mind."

"So… he'll get better, now?" Dean's voice had almost pleading tone in it.

"He now has a change to that", the man answered, before turning back towards Crowley. "Now we say our goodbyes."

"Pleasant travel to you, wherever are you going", Crowley quickly answered and even bowed a bit – seriously, who the heck was this guy?

The man smirked. "I think I shall pay little visit to my brother before leaving this realm; shall a pass your greetings, too?"

"Yes; please be kind and tell him that we have some… words… to change in a near future", Crowley answered, and there was something petulant in the way he did that. Both Dean and bobby raised their eyebrows for that.

The man barked of laugh. "I will", he promised; and then (Dean had hard time to believe his eyes), he reached out his hand and ruffled the demons hair a bit. "Take care, young one", he said, and walked to the door.

And suddenly there were no longer man, but a wolf, bigger than any wolf had any right to be, and its hulking form filled the doorway. Then it howled, its call full off freedom and sheer delight of being alive…

And then, it was gone.

They turned towards Crowley with incredulous looks on their faces, but the demon only, smirked, shrugged and said, "That was Fenrisulfr for you, folks."