A/N: I apologise in advance for any spelling mistakes in the following story. If there are any please forgive me and I hope it does not distract too much from your enjoyment. – If you enjoy :D

I'm not so sure about the end of this too be honest but I went where my mind took me and I hope its not confusing. :D

CHAPTER NINE

"Cas?" Dean wheezed through gulps of air, he figured he should be shouting, pulling himself off the bed to kick seven bells out of him, but Dean didn't move. He just stared at the man on the other bed, as Cas turned tearful, red-rimmed brilliant blue eyes on him and Dean knew what had happened. What God had done.

Swallowing hard he forced his voice to work, ignoring the torment of emotions swirly through him. There was plenty of time to deal with all that shit later. Right now there was only one thing that concerning Dean. "Are you alright?"

Castiel felt exhausted. He couldn't get enough air into his lungs. His brain was pounding against his skull. He was shaking all over and he could still feel the blistering heat from Gods kiss working its way through his body. He'd been thrown to earth at an astonishing rate, to land safe and warm. That had not been what he would have expected from oblivion. He thought there would be more pain.

He opened his eyes nervously and found himself staring up at a water stained, gritty ceiling. He breathed in the scent of bleach and furniture polish and a fragrance that was all too familiar to Castiel.

He shifted his gaze slightly to find Sam sat at his side, staring at him in fear and wonder. Then he heard that voice and his heart pulled tight against his ribs. He swallowed hard before turning to meet those hazel eyes, expecting to see condemnation and hate. Instead he saw only concern and he couldn't stop the tears burning.

"Are you alright?"

Cas couldn't talk at that instant, so he simply nodded his head. Dean looked to be in as much pain as him, though only God knew why.

After a few more breaths Cas spoke in a broken voice, tinged with regret and agony. "Are you?"

Dean didn't smile; he just met his friends gaze. "I will be."

That had been just a small step on the path that had led them here. He couldn't say God hadn't warned him. She had told him the war wasn't over. There had been a lull in the fighting and for a while Dean and Sam had slipped back happily into the old routine of hunting down your average everyday creature-features. They had all been given time to adjust to the new situation.

It had taken months for Cas to find his way in the human world, to learn to hunt like a normal person. Sam had slowly learnt to control the tormented mind though there were days and weeks when Sam was useless. When he'd have to be restrained in Bobby's basement, leaving the day to day hunting down to Cas and Dean.

The relationship between the ex-angel and his former charge hadn't been smooth sailing. Dean hadn't been able to fully forgive Cas for what he'd done, though he wanted to.

And Cas was having a harder time forgiving himself. That had been how the drinking had started. He thrown himself into a bottle when he realised it blocked out the pain and disappointment, anger and fear of what he'd lost. After that it was only a matter of time before the drugs followed.

Dean knew he should have stepped in, done something, but he hadn't and to this day he didn't know why he turned a blind eye to it all.

Sam had warned him over and over that if he wasn't careful he was going to lose Cas, and they'd both known they weren't talking about the drink and the drunks. He'd pushed Cas away a bit at a time since he'd crashed into that hotel room. Part of him thought that allowing the ex-angel to drink and drug himself into oblivion was a punishment for all the pain he'd put him thought.

And the women, well that was Dean's punishment. He'd practically thrown the man at every woman that came his way, as if getting Cas laid would prove that he was one of the guys. That the bond God and Sam kept going on about didn't exist because facing up to that was harder than watching Cas sleep with everything that moved.

Dean smirked to himself remorseful as he considered that he and Cas had kind of turned it into a game, a computation – who could get the most tail and the ex-angel was winning hands down.

A commotion in the distance caught Deans' attention, pulling him out of his walk down memory lane. He hadn't even noticed it was raining. He looked up at the sky and wondered if God was up there laughing at him again.

"Dean." Bobby's voice bellowed across the camp causing Dean to turn. "It's Sam."

Dean sighed. There was no further explanation needed. It was one of those weeks. Sam would have to be restrained; everyone would be walking around on egg shells for at least a month. Cas would throw himself back into whatever or whoever was handy, getting wasted was the only way Cas knew how to deal with his guilt. While Dean would head off and find something to kick the crap out of. It wouldn't be a quick hunt; it would be a quick capture and then days of stress relief. He'd come home, covered in blood and dirt to the waiting and disapproving glares of Bobby.

Dean started walking towards the cabin they'd name the lock-box, where Sam would spend however long it would take for him to take control again. The closer he got, the louder the shouts became and the more pain raced through his chest.

He reached the cabin and found Cas standing on the steps, his head limp, his hands shaking, a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels hanging from his fingers. The ex-angel looked up and their gazes locked, Dean noting the familiar shine of tears that highlighted his guilt. He wanted to say it was alright. That he wasn't to blame, but he was, they both knew that and no matter how hard Dean tried, Sam was the one thing he couldn't forgive Cas for.

And Cas knew it. That was why he lifted the bottle to his lips, took a deep gulp and then staggered down the steps on route to his own cabin.

As Dean watched him go he wondered; was this want Lucifer had meant when he'd said he won, because he won. He may have lost the battle for the planet, but he'd most definitely won the war for their souls, because there wasn't a single member of Dean Winchesters dysfunctional little family that monster hadn't broken in one way or another.

"Dean, get your ass in her now!" Bobby yelled.

Dean marched into the cabin to help lock his brother down thinking Oh yeah, Lucifer had won.

THE END

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone for reading and review, there always appreciated. I hope you enjoyed the story. :D THANK YOU ALL