Chapter 7

Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.

For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.

So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.

Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many.

For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.

Matthew, 7; 7-9 / 12-14

THEN

Lawrence, Kansas, December, 1994

The first Christmas Sam Winchester had any memory of, his mother was sick. She worked too hard, too much, and she got home too late, almost every night. She worked as a waitress, because there wasn't much work for a woman who had always been a housewife and now was a single mom.

Her friends helped. Missouri let Sam and Dean stay at the diner where Mary worked. She gave them burgers and let them do their homework in peace in a corner booth. Ellen, despite owning a bar and working most nights, used to take Sam and Dean to her house whenever Mary needed to work extra hours on the weekends. Pamela, Mary's best friend, used to babysit the boys whenever she needed. Bobby, an old friend of their father, would come to their house with groceries every other week, and ruffled the boys' hair, calling them 'little idjits', but he gave Dean his own miniature cars collection, because the boys were like sons to him.

All in all, Sam had a pretty decent childhood.

But that year, Mary was sick. There was a flu epidemic in the city, and the winter was particularly cold. Bobby and Ellen were visiting relatives out of Lawrence and Missouri was sick too. Pamela was on honeymoon.

Sam already knew there wasn't going to be a Christmas tree or presents for him. Mary had told him that. He was only five, but he tried to accept the fact that they were poor and that Mary hadn't worked the extra hours she needed for the extra cash to buy him and Dean presents.

When Christmas morning came, Sam didn't bother to get out of bed. He decided to sleep the whole morning and maybe later go to the park, if it wasn't too cold. But he hadn't expected that his brother would change that Christmas morning the way he did.

Sam was lying on his bed, looking at the old wallpaper and counting the cracks in it. By ten, his stomach started to growl, so he decided to stop wailing in his misery, get up and explore the kitchen. But as soon as he reached the top of the stairs, still in his pajamas, he heard loud music coming from the living room. Curious, he went downstairs and found Dean in the kitchen, stirring a pot that smelled good.

"What are you cooking?" Sam asked, only now noticing that the songs playing were – wonder of wonders – Christmas carols, not Dean's loud rock songs.

"Chicken soup for mom."

Sam scowled. That was so not what he wanted to eat. "Oh, okay."

"But there's pancakes'n eggs if you want. I left them on the counter."

Sam gave a big grin, running to the counter where a huge plate with pancakes, eggs and bacon waited for him. "Thanks, Dean, you're the best!"

Dean laughed. "Wait till you see our Christmas tree."

"We have a tree?"

They hada tree; anugly, small tree, with part of the foliage missing, but it was decorated with red and green paper chains all over, and miniature marshmallows imitating snowflakes. It looked beautiful and Sam had never seen a cooler tree in his life.

"You bought it?" he asked, amazed.

"Yep, yesterday after you guys went to bed…and I spent the night decorating it," Dean said smugly.

"I thought you had spent your savings on the new coat for Sam last week," Mary said from the doorway.

"Mom! You shouldn't be up!" Dean hurried to pull a chair for Mary to sit on. "You hungry? Chicken soup's almost ready."

"I'm feeling better today. And you didn't answer me, Dean."

"Mom, come see the Christmas tree!" Sam said before Dean could answer. "Dean made all the decorations! Isn't it great?"

Sam took their mother to the living room and she sat on an armchair near the fireplace. "It is very beautiful," she said, her voice trembling a little, her eyes suddenly moist. "Thank you, sweetie," she said to Dean, who blushed a little.

"Wait, there are presents too!" Dean said, kneeling near the tree and getting two small packages. One he gave to Mary, the other to Sam.

"Oh, Dean…" Mary's eyes were even moister than before, and she blinked a few times while she opened her present. It was a small hand mirror, decorated with fake pearls and pink ribbons. "I love it."

Sam opened his present in a rush, tearing at the paper, smiling at his brother. Inside the box, there was a set of toy soldiers, the green plastic kind. There were also several second hand comic books, mostly Spider Man and Superman, two of Sam's favorites.

"Wow! Thanks, Dean!"

"Where did you get money for all this, baby?" Mary asked. "You didn't have that much saved."

Dean blushed again and looked down. "I… um…I had a few more bucks hidden," and it was so clear he was lying that even five year old Sam noticed.

Mary looked at Dean, and a silent understanding passed between them. Sam looked from his brother to his mother, feeling that something big was going on, but unable to understand what.

"You didn't buy anything for yourself?" she asked softly.

Dean shrugged. "Nah. I don't need anything, Mom. I have you guys."

"Come here, baby," Mary said, beckoning Dean to her. He went, awkwardly, and kneeled next to her, because at thirteen he was already getting tall. "My little man, you do take care of us, don't you?" she whispered, hugging him.

Dean looked embarrassed. "Come on, Mom, no chick flicks."

"I love you, baby," Mary went on like she hadn't heard him. "God gave me the best son in the world." She looked at Sam and opened her free arm to him. "The best sons," she corrected, smiling. "Come here, Sammy."

Sam went willingly; he didn't miss any opportunity to receive his mother's warmth, especially because she smelled really good. They stayed like that, hugging each other, while White Christmas played on the radio, and Sam, even though he was still a child, knew that his brother would always take care of him.

It was one of the best Christmases of Sam's life.

NOW

Lawrence, Kansas, August, 2013.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"Dean, calm down!" Castiel said. "Your father is just trying to help."

"What the hell, man! Sammy, in jail? For starting a fight in a bar, with marijuana in his pocket? Sammy? That's completely fucked up."

"I know," John said in a low voice. "I tried to tell the policeman that Sam hadn't done anything, but when they found the weed, they didn't even hear me."

"Sam is not on drugs!" Dean snapped. "And why the hell were you there at the bar?"

John Winchester looked at his son with dismay. "It was just a coincidence."

Dean's nostrils flared and he let out a loud breath. "Coincidence my ass, Come on, I'm not dumb. A month ago you were 'coincidently' following me, now you're 'coincidently' following Sam. You're stalking us or what?"

"Fine!" John yelled. "I was following Sam! I… I just want to be sure you two are safe." He looked at Castiel, meaningfully, but Dean completely missed that.

Castiel understood why John hadn't left yet. He had been following his sons to see if they were alright, if Crowley hadn't come back and possessed his boys. He wasn't such a bad father, after all. At least he was trying to take care of Sam and Dean the best way he could, even though he was not subtle about following them around.

"Why the hell wouldn't we be safe? That's bullshit! We don't need your protection, Dad!" Dean yelled. "We got by just great without you all these years!"

"Dean, don't," Castiel put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We are in a police station, please try to control your rage."

Dean glared at John angrily, but did what Castiel asked and sat down heavily on one of the plastic chairs. "Fuck," he whispered again. Luckily, the police station's reception was mostly empty, except for a morose guy at the front desk.

"Look, Dean, I understand that you're angry, but I'm Sam's father and I have as much right to be here as you."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, sure. Like you care. Like you didn't leave us and – you know what? I'm not wasting my time with you, pal. You have no right at all to be here; you gave up your rights as a father when you left. Don't you dare playing daddy now, 'cause we don't need you."

"Dean, let him stay," Castiel reasoned. "Your father is worried about Sam. Please. This is not the time to fight."

"Shit, Cas, this is fucked up," Dean ran his hands through his hair, exasperated.

Castiel looked at John and gave him a silent, curt not. John nodded too, gratefully, and went to sit a few chairs away.

Finally, after almost half an hour, the officer came with Sam. "Here he is," she said brusquely, practically pushing Sam at their direction. "Make sure he doesn't get into another confusion."

Sam looked like he had been run over by a truck. His clothes were rumpled and dirty, his eyes bloodshot, and there was a band-aid on his left temple, beside a huge bruise on his left eye.

Dean got up hurriedly as soon as he saw Sam, stopping short right in front of his brother. "Hey, Sammy," he said softly, and his face was a mask of worry.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Sam said, his face crumpling before he hugged his brother.

"I know, I know. Don't worry… everything is going to be fine," Dean said, while Castiel and John watched.

"No, it won't. D – Dean, I don't know how that weed ended up in my pocket, I swear," Sam sobbed. "I don't know what happened."

"I know, Sammy, I know. We'll figure out what to do. Let's go home, you'll feel much better after a shower."

"What about Jess? Mom?" Sam said hiding his face with is hands. "What am I gonna tell them?"

"We've already done that," Dean assured him. "They're just worried. Mom is waiting for you. Jess is going to meet us at home. Come on."

They started to exit the police station, Dean, Sam and Castiel forming a small line. John followed them outside, walking hesitantly behind Castiel. Dean stopped at the sidewalk and looked at his father. "Where do you think you're going?"

Sam sighed. "Let him come, Dean," he said, tiredly. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey dad?" Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam. "You've been seeing him? 'Cause you sure don't look surprised to see him here."

"We… had lunch the other day," Sam said sheepishly.

"And that is okay with you, Sammy?" Dean was beginning to sound angry again.

Castiel put a hand on Dean's elbow, pulling him to the side. "Dean, this is not the time to fight with Sam. He needs you. Let your father come with us; he just wants to help."

That seemed to calm Dean, who took a deep breath. "Okay," he said to Castiel, his shoulders tense. He turned to John. "You can come if you want. Cas is right, this is about Sam, not about me. I bet Mom will have the surprise of her life, seeing you coming through the front door," he said bitterly.

John looked at Castiel again, and the angel understood the silent thanks in his eyes. As they got inside the Impala, Sam beside Dean and Castiel in the back with John, Sam's voice was still ringing over and over in Castiel's mind: "I don't know how that weed ended up in my pocket, I swear. I don't know what happened."

That could only mean one thing: unless Sam was suffering from a sudden, unexpected amnesia, he had just been possessed.

THEN

Lawrence, Kansas, July, 2013

Sam was only six moths old when John left Mary with two children to raise all by herself. That meant Sam didn't have any good memories of his father. On the other hand, it also meant he didn't have any bad memories of him. Unlike Dean, who seemed to despise John and everything Mary had gone through because of him.

Dean was fiercely protective of his mother, but for Sam, things were completely different. When Sam was old enough to understand what the word 'depression' meant, Mary was already out of it, opening a flower shop with her best friend Pamela and full of plans for the future.

So, Sam had never had all the resentment Dean had towards John, because John had never been a constant in his life. He didn't miss his father because he already had a father figure in his life. Kind of.

Dean was eight years older than Sam and he had always been there to take care of him. When Sam was very little, he wished that Dean was his father, because it was Dean who picked him up at kindergarten, who cooked him lunch and dinner, who helped with his homework, who read to him all the Lord of The Rings books while Mary worked to make ends meet.

Of course he hadn't known that children didn't raise other children. But Dean had.

Now, as an adult, Sam was aware that they had been very poor in the first few years after John left. He knew, even though no one had told him, that sometimes Dean had used questionable methods to get him the things he needed, like books, shoes, clothes. Dean would tell Mary that a friend with a little brother Sam's age had given the things to him, and Mary believed, or pretended to. Sam never asked how Dean had gotten those things – maybe he'd shoplifted, maybe he'd begged on the streets, who knew? – Because the truth would probably upset Mary, and Sam, following Dean's example, did everything he could to spare Mom any kind of heartbreak.

Not that Dean was dishonest. On the contrary, he was the most righteous man Sam had ever met. He just did whatever needed to be done for his family, always. Even not going to college and working his ass off at Bobby's – before he had his own garage – to save money so Sam could have a chance at being a lawyer. Tuition wasn't cheap.

When John called him, Sam agreed to meet his father without much questioning. It was just a meeting like any other – well, almost – but Sam didn't hate the guy, so he went. John looked tired, worried and almost paranoid, looking around several times as they sat eating lunch at a diner on the other side of the city.

"Your brother will not approve of you having lunch with me," John said, drinking a large gulp of his beer.

"I'm a big boy, Dad."

"That you are," John gave a small smile "You turned out well, Sam. I'm proud, even though I had nothing to do with it."

"Why are you here, Dad?" Sam went right to the point. "Why now?"

John shrugged and chuckled bitterly. "I ended up here by chance. But when I arrived, when everything was over, I realized I should have come back long ago, that I wanted to be back and beg for forgiveness from your mother as soon as I left."

"What was over, Dad? And… if you wanted to come back, why didn't you?"

"I'm a coward, son. I'm sorry, but I am," John admitted bitterly. "But I'd like to talk to your mother before I go away again."

"So you're leaving again?" Sam asked, disappointed.

"Maybe it's better if I do," was all John said.

Sam decided to be honest and say what he really thought. "Look, Dad, I know you made a big mistake. A huge, shitty one but… I think this is between you and Mom. You should go see her if that's what you want. You were married to her, not to me, not to Dean. Forget what we want; she's the one you hurt the most. If… if she agrees to see you, me and Dean, we will agree on anything she decides."

"You're a great man, Sam."

"I had the greatest mother and brother, Dad. Maybe that's why. You know, Mom cries whenever you call. But I don't think it's because she's weak. She's the strongest person I know. I think she cries because of everything you could have had together, but didn't."

"You have no idea how many times I regretted my actions."

"Save it, Dad. It's Mom you have to convince, not me."

Later, Sam realized that he'd just told his father that it was okay for him to go and talk to Mary, even though he knew she didn't want to see him. Shit, Dean was going to kill him when he found out what Sam had said. But then again, Dean wouldn't be angry with him for too long. He never was. Sam could always count on Dean to act like the big brother he was and to forgive him.

NOW

Lawrence, Kansas, August, 2013.

Mary didn't seem that surprised to see John. But she only had eyes for Sam in the current situation, and Castiel knew that everything between Mary and John would only be dealt with once Sam's problem was solved.

The angel was sitting awkwardly on the sofa, John beside him, while Mary and Dean fussed over Sam. They told him to go upstairs and take a shower so they could talk. Mary retreated to the kitchen with the excuse of making tea for everyone.

"You better grab the strongest booze we have," Dean said with a bitter chuckle, eyeing John warily. "I think we'll need it a lot more than any tea you can make, Mom."

Castiel was debating if he should leave. It was a family moment after all; he had no place here, so maybe he should leave them alone. But Sam's words didn't let him go anywhere, and something cold inside his heart was telling him that Crowley could be behind this. He was capable of everything. If it was really him, Castiel was at a loss at why he hadn't died. The angel blade never failed killing demons.

He got up and walked to where Dean was searching for the liquor in the cabinet. "Dean, I-" he started, but Dean grabbed his hand with a strong grip.

"I know I'm asking too much, putting you in all this mess but… can you stay?"

"If you want me to, I will," Castiel said, relieved. He wanted to stay, because he wanted to be there for Dean. But more than that, he had to find out what had really happened to Sam.

"I'm gonna take a shower too, maybe that'll help clear my head." Dean said, squeezing Castiel's hand once and turning to the stairs. "Wait for me?"

"Of course."

That left Castiel alone with John Winchester.

They stayed in silence for a while, but Castiel could feel John's eyes on him. He walked to the coffee table and picked up a magazine, flipping through if only to have something to do.

"How did you and Dean meet?" John finally asked with a neutral tone.

Castiel decided to give him as much truth as he could. "I work at Mrs. Moseley's diner. I saved Dean from being ran over by a car."

"Oh. I wonder why I've never asked you this before." Silence. Then, "You two seem very close."

"We are." Castiel didn't owe John an explanation, but he clarified, "I told you we're friends."

"But that's not all you are to him." It was not a question. "He listens to you."

"I'm glad."

"Are you…" John started again, after a while. "I mean… is he… are you his… um…"

Castiel finally lost his patience. Despite of what John could think about his and Dean's relationship, Dean had said he didn't want to hide, hadn't he? "I believe the word you are looking for is 'boyfriend'. And yes, I am Dean's boyfriend." He tried to fight the pride in his voice but failed miserably.

"Oh. That's… great."

"Do you disapprove?" Castiel asked, not because it would make any difference, but because he was curious.

"It's not my place to approve of anything Dean does," John said, and Castiel had to agree with the man. At least he knew that he had lost the right to have a say in his son's life. "But no, I don't disapprove," John added. "You're a good man. I can see how much you care about him."

"Good."

John scratched the back of his head. "You heard what Sam said, didn't you? You think he was… possessed? Like I was?" he whispered, looking at the kitchen's door for any sign of Mary. "You think that demon's back?"

"We should not jump into conclusions before he tells us everything that happened."

"Right. But I have a feeling in my guts… we killed him, didn't we? Could it be another one?"

"We killed him," Castiel said, more to convince himself, because he wasn't sure of anything anymore. "I agree that what happened is strange. But we need to hear Sam first."

"Why are demons coming after my family?" John asked, exasperated.

They aren't. It's all my fault, Castiel thought. All because of me. If I had killed Crowley when I first caught him, he wouldn't be looking for revenge now. If he managed not to die, that is. But he just shrugged and didn't answer John. He still couldn't explain what had happened. Crowley couldn't have survived, he just couldn't. And if there was another demon after Castiel, the big question was why?

"At least Dean is safe. You know about these…these things, these demons, and you can protect Dean. Right?" When Castiel didn't answer, John insisted. "You can warn him, right?"

"I don't think he would believe me if I said demons walk the Earth. And I'm doing my best to protect him," he said bitterly. "But I am afraid my best might not be enough."

"What do you mean? John started to ask, alarmed, but Sam and Dean came together down the stairs and John stopped talking.

They all sat down at the kitchen table to have 'the talk'. Castiel felt very out of place there, but no one batted an eye at his presence and Dean pulled him by the hand to sit beside him. Mary put a cup of tea in front of each one of them. Dean ignored his tea and poured himself a glass of whiskey. After a heartbeat, he poured the amber liquid in another glass and pushed it slowly towards John, who accepted with a slight nod and a half-smile.

"Start from the beginning, Sammy," Dean said, looking at Sam. "What do you remember?"

"Sam gulped, but Castiel felt he had no intention of lying. He was just nervous. "Um…I walked Jess to her door and kissed her goodnight. There was…a strong wind, like it was going to rain, so I ran to my car and got inside. There was this… smoke in the air, almost like a fog, and I… I guess I closed the door as quickly as I could."

"Then?" Mary asked eagerly.

"Then nothing. All I know is that I… I woke up in a cell at the police station. They… they sad I had been in a bar fight and they had found… marijuana in my pockets. B – But I swear, I swear I didn't do anything!"

"Shit," was all Dean said. Castiel didn't blame him; there was nothing left to say. The angel believed Sam, because he knew what must have happened, but if Dean and Mary believed him, it was a whole another story. Demonic possession wasn't something that Mary and Dean would believe.

Sam widened his eyes suddenly. "Do you think I'm sick? I just blacked out, out of nowhere! Maybe I have a – a – I don't know, a brain tumor?"

"Oh my God, baby, don't say something like that…!" Mary shook her head as if to make the thought go away.

"I had a freaking blackout, guys. One moment I was in my car, the other in a cell. How do you explain that?" he looked around at them. "Wait. You guys believe me, don't you?" Sam asked abruptly, looking at his mother and brother with desperation.

Dean and Mary looked at each other without a word. It was Castiel who said solemnly, "We believe you, Sam."

John looked at Castiel as if he wanted to say something, but even though kept quiet, the angel could see what he was thinking: demon.

"Thanks, Cas," Sam whispered, eyes downcast. "I – I don't know what I'll do with my life. I just…"

That seemed to take Dean out of his stupor, and he patted at Sam's back. "Hey, calm down, calm down, Sammy. It'll be alright."

"No, it won't," Sam said vehemently, tears already streaming down his face. "It won't."

"You don't know that," Dean insisted. "It's not as if you'll go to jail. Maybe they'll want you to do community services for some time, but that'll be all. No big deal."

Sam shook his head no. "My life is over, Dean. My whole life is over."

"Come on, baby, it won't be like that," Mary said, holding Sam's hands over the table. "Everything will be alright in the end. No one will remember this in a few weeks."

"We'll figure out a way out of community service, Sammy," Dean said, looking at his brother worriedly.

"You don't understand, do you? Sam said bitterly. "I don't give a shit about community service. When I say my life is over, I mean it really is over. Remember that big chance in that famous law firm, Parson & Sons? Well, that is over, Dean. Over. If I don't have a clean record, and I did have one, until yesterday, I can forget the job they offered me."

Dean covered his mouth with his hand. "Shit."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, shit. And I can say goodbye to being hired by any big law firm. This kind of news spreads like fire. I'll never be big, successful, because I was arrested for violent behavior with drugs in my pocket! I can say goodbye to the wedding too, 'cause Jess will never want to marry a loser like me. Not that I'll have that much to offer her, anyway."

"Calm down, Sammy," Dean drank all the contents of his glass all in one go. "We'll figure a way out of this."

"No, Dean, we won't." Sam got up slowly, like his body weighted a ton of bricks. "This time, there's nothing we can do. You can't fix everything for me, Dean. Not this."

As he left the kitchen, the doorbell rang and Mary started to get up too. "It must be Jess."

Before she could leave, John held her hand awkwardly. "Mary… when this is over, I… I'd like to talk to you."

She looked tiredly at John's hand over hers on the table. "Alright," she said, after a few seconds. "But only after this nightmare is behind us."

"I'll be waiting."

She nodded and, without another word, left the kitchen, leaving John, Dean and Castiel alone.

"Fuck all the shits that ever fucked in the history of fucks," Dean murmured, almost to himself. "I need to come up with a way to help him. Sam will be destroyed if he loses this job – and all future opportunities, apparently – because of one damn fuck up."

"He didn't do it." Castiel was almost sure that it wasn't Sam's fault. Maybe he could ask for John's help and try to track Crowley, or whichever demon was behind this. Again. Maybe he could find a way to trap the demon and put him in prison, even without most of his Grace. It killed him the fact that he couldn't tell Dean the truth. But when the Grim Reaper threatens to torture someone, he is not joking. He would die before he let Death torture Dean.

"Whether he did it or not is not the point here. The point is that I have to help him. I can't believe there is nothing we can do," Dean said, shaking his head, in complete disbelief.

John looked at Dean hesitantly, but then he seemed to make up his mind, because he took a deep breath and spoke. "There is," he said. "There is something we can do to save Sam."

"What?" Dean almost yelled, getting up.

John shook his head no. "Shhh. Not here. Is there any other place we can talk?"

…

The garage was at walking distance. Dean walked fast, Cas beside him, their steps matching, with John behind them

"Talk," Dean demanded when he closed the garage's door behind the three of them.

John looked at Dean resolutely. "The only way to help Sam is to make sure this thing never shows in his records."

"No shit, Sherlock," Dean smirked. "And how do you propose we do that?"

John grimaced. "You probably won't like this. But… I think we can steal Sam's file. We can erase any records they have of him."

Castiel felt something cold going up his spine. John wanted Dean to steal? "No!" he almost yelled, grabbing Dean's arm. "No, you can't!"

Dean looked at John in silence, questioningly, but Castiel realized with trepidation that he was thinking about it. Really thinking about it.

"We wouldn't be invading like crazy assholes, we're not going there with blazing guns, western style, nothing like that," John insisted. "One of us can create a… a diversion and – and the other slips on the office and grabs Sam's file. We can find a hacker to erase the records about him. It's not gonna be easy, but it's the only thing I can think of."

"This is madness. I won't let you do this," Castiel said. "Invasion and theft is against the law, and Dean can end up in jail for that."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Dean suddenly said, and Castiel's stomach dropped. "I think you're making sense, Dad."

Castiel grabbed Dean's arm. "Dean, you can't steal from the police!"

"This is not the time to play the good guy, Cas. Didn't you hear what Sam said back there? His future is over, his dream is over, and I can't let that happen!"

"But this is crazy!" Castiel insisted. "Sam would never approve of it!"

"Sam doesn't need to know," Dean deadpanned.

"So you will put your own future at risk for his?" Castiel asked.

"What future, Cas?" Dean asked, exasperated. "What future? Tell me, because I have no idea. Sam is the brain in the family. I have nothing to lose, but he has a lot, and I won't let him down."

"You could lose a lot more than you imagine, Dean," Castiel said, shaking his head sadly.

"Bull shit. I'm gonna help my brother."

John nodded at Dean, determined. "We won't have much time to plan, this needs to be done as soon as possible. But we have to at least try."

"I know a hacker. Charlie. I trust her."

Castiel's shoulders sagged with dismay. "Dean," he tried. "Don't do this. There must be another way. It's dangerous." But Dean was looking at John now, completely convinced that it was the best way, the only way.

Castiel had no doubt it could be done. Albeit dangerous, the small city's police station wasn't completely protected. But all he could think of was that if Dean stole anything, another Commandment would be broken, and there were already so many on his list. He wished there was something he could say to stop the man he loved, but without being able to tell Dean exactly why he couldn't steal, Castiel's arguments sounded weak and stupid.

"I… had to do a lot of things to survive, son." John confessed. "Not always honest things and I'm not proud of most of them. It was a long time ago, but they say it's just like riding a bike, don't they? And it's for a good cause."

"Dean, I don't think this is – " Castiel started again, but Dean didn't let him finish.

"Cas. It's Sam. I gotta help him, no matter what. I'm not sacrificing his life because I chickened out. We can do this, me'n Dad."

Me and Dad? Where had Dean's animosity towards his father gone to? Because they looked like best friends now. Astonished at how fast Dean had changed his mind, Castiel didn't want to give up. "Dean, this is wrong!"

"It doesn't matter, Cas!" Dean yelled. "If I'm arrested, at least I'll know Sam will get something good outta this!"

"What if you get arrested and don't succeed? What if they get you before you do anything? These are policemen, Dean, not amateurs!"

"Gee, way to support a team, Cas," Dean rolled his eyes, impatient.

"You're not helping here, bud," John said to Castiel. "We're trying to save Sam."

"Dean is as important as Sam," Castiel told John angrily. "Would you sacrifice a son to save the other?"

"No one is sacrificing anything here," Dean snapped. "I'm a big boy, and I didn't ask your opinion. Go back to the diner if you're so scared and let me plan this thing, because I can't chicken out now."

Castiel took a step back as if he's been slapped, his expression surprise and hurt.

The look on Castiel's face seemed to calm Dean a bit. "Hey, I…I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't mean that. But taking care of Sam is my job. This is important."

"You are important too, Dean," Castiel insisted. "It's a pity you can't see that."

Dean took a few steps forward and stopped right in front of Castiel, so John couldn't hear them. "Hey. Cas. Lemme plan this with Dad, alright? We can do this. And then everything will be alright again, our lives will be back on track."

Castiel shook his head sadly, defeated. What was at stake here was so much bigger than Sam's problems. Only, Dean didn't know the truth, and he would get closer to his death without having any idea what he was doing. But at the same time, the angel had made up his mind. "Then I'm going with you."

Dean's eyes widened. "No way."

But Castiel wasn't taking no for an answer. "If you go, I go." He would not let Dean steal anything. He would steal the file himself before Dean could break the commandment. All that Castiel knew was that he would not allow Dean to condemn himself to an early death. It would be the seventh commandment he would break, things were spiraling down fast.

"I said no, Cas!" Dean looked at him angrily. "You're a nerdy dude! You – you sweep floors, you spend whole days reading Stephen Hawkins, for God's sake, you could get hurt!"

Castiel took a deep breath and said in a determined voice. "You don't know everything about me, Dean. I'm not inexperienced in… missions like that."

"You?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Me. I can be very useful."

Dean snorted humorlessly. "What a bunch of misfits we are. A nerdy guy who works in a diner, an old guy with no job and a fuck up with a GED who works with old cars."

"Let him come, Dean," John said, as Castiel knew he would, because he knew Castiel could fight. There was nothing supernatural in stealing a file, but a mission was a mission.

Castiel waited for Dean's answer, already knowing that it didn't matter what Dean would say, he would go with them, one way or the other.

"It seems that I can't make you change your mind, can I?" Dean put his hand on Castiel's shoulder, squeezing it. "Alright, you come with us, Cas. Nerdy or not, you're an adult, right?"

But Castiel didn't see this as a victory. Instead, he felt that was one of the biggest failures of all his long life. What a great angel he was, collection failures like that. He could only pray that nothing else would happen during the invasion, and that he could, somehow, find what, or more precisely, which demon had possessed Dean's brother.

Given his recent luck, he feared neither would happen.

Sighing, the angel joined Dean and John in planning invasion and theft.