Warnings: Swearing

Chapter 26:The Truth Comes Out

Over the next week, Dean started to notice little things that made him nervous. First was his father's new attitude. Not just about Castiel, but about everything. He started asking questions about certain hunts that made Dean almost positive he'd found the box of books they had hidden in a storage room. He new he should have burned them when they got here. Started watching every move they made, whether it be from cooking, to research. Dean finding this very annoying, and difficult to work on things that, he admitted, should be first and foremost, but have been put on the back burner. Like the mark, which Dean will admit, is almost imperceptible to the naked eye. Or why his father was even here in the first place.

He was worried about Sam's increasing panic, and urgency he had while researching anything he could. Almost constantly bringing up the only cure for the damn mark every time they where alone together. Dean point blank refusing to even think about it, or to even talk to Castiel about it. What they had been doing, was apparently working, so it wasn't necessary. Sam was however relentless, and continued to try and bring it up, while redirecting his research to his father's predicament as well.

Then there was Castiel. He'd been noticing it over time, small at first, but then it became more apparent. Going from just a few naps, and attacks of hunger, to small circles under his eyes, and having the effort to exercise. Then his strength started to disappear. Something Dean noticed during a sparing session where Castiel was not only knocked down, but his hits hardly had any strength to them. He was winded easier, and even the glow was beginning to diminish from him.

He looked over at his partner, eyes drooping as he read through a thick manuscript. Seemingly unable to stay awake. The circles under his eyes more pronounced as his skin paled through the day. He cleared his throat, attempting to wake Castiel up and help him get his focus, but he may as well have just stayed silent for all the good it did.

"Cas?" He asked from across the table. Castiel jerking his head up and blinking at him. "Is something wrong?" He didn't really want to know the answer, afraid of it. But it seemed important.

"No, I'm fine." Castiel grunted, snapping the book shut and dropping it on the table. "It's just very dull. Maybe I should look at another one." He passed off as a way of explanation, sending Dean a reassuring smile.

"Cas, I don't believe that for a second." Dean reprimanded, leaning his head up on one of his hands. "Your grace is dwindling, isn't it?" He asked, looking Castiel in the eye.

"Perhaps." Castiel admitted, rubbing his hands over his face. "But it's nothing to concern yourself with." He tried to comfort, the effect not quite what he was hoping for.

"Fuck that Cas." Dean snapped, standing up and walking around to sit on the table next to him. "I will concern myself with it, damn it. The last time this happened, you nearly died. Your getting sick, I can tell."

"Dean I am fine." Castiel stated, turning his face away from Dean. "I'm doing everything I can to preserve what I have, and I'm not sure this will affect me the same way as last time."

"Why do you say that?" Dean asked, looking down at Castiel with his most authoritative stare. Knowing it probably won't do anything for the Angel, but he had to try what he could.

"Because it feels different." Castiel explained, holding his head in his hands. "It feels more like the first time. Where it left slowly, but I was also turning mortal."

"You weren't sick then." Dean reminded, scooting over on the table and propping his feet up to the sides of Castiel's chair. Leaning down to look him in the eye.

"It could just be a side affect from the change. It's probably nothing more then a normal human illness at most." Castiel waved off, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Dean's waist. Dean smiled, touching his forehead to Castiel's. Then pulling back suddenly.

"Cas, your burning up." Dean stated urgently, planting his feet on the ground, and standing up. He grabbed Castiel's arm, and pulled him up as well before leading him to his room. "Let's get you in bed. Then, when your fever is down, we are definitely going to talk about this. Because I don't think your telling the whole truth here." He said, lowering Castiel down into his bed, and covering him with a blanket.

He walked out of the room, and headed to the kitchen. Sam was sitting in there, reading a book and drinking some kind of fruity smelling tea. He nodding to him in greeting, then headed to the freezer. He filled a bowl with ice and then added some water to the bowl. He grabbed a rag, and placed it in the bowl so that it could soak up the cool water.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked from his seat.

"Cas is running a fever." Dean answered quickly, attempting to get out of the room quickly before Sam can bring up the topic of Castiel's waning grace and the mark of Cain again. But before he could, he was stopped by his father coming in. Sam seemed to take this as an opportunity.

"Castiel is sick?" Sam asked, voice laced with concern. Dean nodded his head in answer, not wanting to have to face the conversation that Sam was determined to have. "You don't think it's what it was last time, do you?" He asked, Dean sighed before turning to face his brother.

"He says it's not, but I don't believe him." Dean admitted, looking down at the bowl of ice water. The clothe soaked through and floating around the bowl.

"What happened last time?" They head John ask from the sink. Dean at a loss for an answer. He wasn't really there last time. But he could hardly tell his father that, what with him being a demon and all. Luckily for him, Sam was there to save the day.

"It's kind of a recurring disease that can be fatal if not handled properly. He nearly died, since he kind of ignored it for awhile." Sam lied easily.

"So, take him to a doctor." John suggested, taking a sip from his cup.

"It's not really that easy." Dean said, turning on his heel and walking towards the door. "But this time, I'm not giving him the chance to ignore it." He said, walking back to Castiel's room.

He walked in, seeing that Castiel had already fallen asleep. He sat the bowl down on the nightstand. Ringing out the wet rag of access liquid before placing the cooling clothe to his forehead. Castiel made a small noise from the back of his throat at the contact, then settled back into the pillows. Dean pulled a chair from the desk up to the bed, then sat down. Content to watch Castiel sleep if it meant taking care of him.

John threw the paperback against the wall. Frustrated and angry with the words he had just read. Why would he think it would be a good idea to read those damn books, all he was doing was reading how his children had suffered while he wasn't around. Or, in the case of the book he had just thrown across the room, while they where dying as he sat in the hospital, unable to hear him as he screamed.

He had to admit, he had felt Dean's presence in the room at the time. Especially when his cup had flown across the room while he and Sam where arguing. He had thought he'd heard something while he was in the room alone, planning his own death. But seeing Dean's pain, right there on paper. How much he believed his own father would not come through for him. That was too much for him.

He stared angrily at the book, sitting innocently on the floor. Maybe he should just skip that one. It wasn't like he didn't know how it ended. It was definitely more appealing then putting himself through the torture of reading it to the end. Unlike everyone else who read these things for entertainment, he knew these people. Knew they where real, had held them in his arms after they where born.

He'd thought this was a good idea when he'd found them. But he was starting to regret his decision. He thought about stopping, not wanting to continue. Since he knew eventually he was going to get to a point where his son was going to sell his soul. That wasn't something he was looking forward to.

'No' He thought to himself. If his sons could live it, he sure as hell could read it. Besides, he knows his children are keeping things from him. Odds are, he was not going get any answers out of them. This was the best way. He nodded to himself, as he walked across the room and picked the book back up.

He would read it, just not right now. He thought as he found his place and put a bookmark between the pages. He'd had about all he could take at the moment.

He left his room, intent on getting something productive done. The cars had long since been finished, as that was how both he and Dean seemed to work off their anger. Maybe he should go and try to straighten up the storage rooms again. Those books had distracted him from that task before, but it obviously needed to get done.

He walked down the halls, to the last storage room he had left undone. He walked by Dean's and Castiel's room. Castiel's door open, giving him a view of his oldest sitting by the bed, putting a cooling washcloth on his friend's, no partner's head. He corrected himself, still getting used to his son's choice in relationship material.

Though he did get a better look at Castiel. Something he had been avoiding since nearly walking in on him and his son necking in the garage. But he had to admit, he didn't look very good. He was pale, his cheeks red from the fever. He could see him fight Dean off, as he tried to spoon feed him soup. He could hear Castiel telling him he wasn't a child. Obviously he was not quite the most patient person when he was sick.

He continued on to the storage room. Looking around, he thought maybe he had his work cut out for him. Dean was a nuclear warhead when he was angry. But at least he was taking it out on the inanimate objects, and not people. Sighing to himself, he started to repack up the boxes, doing his best to keep them in the same categories.

He lost himself in his work for a several hours, the repetition giving him a peaceful calmness. It was rather easy work, picking up the cluster of the room, and putting them away. One room at a time, he managed to finish three before he heard arguing in the common room. Curious, he closed up the box he was working on, and walked out.

He walked out to find Sam and Dean tugging on a duffle bag, that was filled with clothes and weapons. Dean was wearing one of his jackets, obviously planning on leaving. John remembered them as children for a brief moment, and shook his head in amusement before he heard Sam say something that stopped him in his tracks.

"Dean, this is a suicide mission. Your going to get yourself killed if you go out on your own like this." Sam grunted, pulling the duffle in his direction.

"I'm not going to sit here and just let Cas die." Dean bared, tugging on the duffle himself. "I'll only be gone a few days. Just long enough to find an Angel and steal it's Grace. I'll be fine."

"And how do you intend to find an Angel, Dean?" Sam hissed out, pulling on the strap of the bag and planting his feet. "It's not like they're easy to find. And when you do, what are you going to do? Do you even know how to take their Grace from them without your eyes burning out of their sockets?"

"I'll figure it out." Dean argued, fighting his brother for the bag.

John watched on in confusion, not really knowing what to do. Usually when his boys fought, it was about something that he could easily mediate on. But this, he wasn't even sure what they where talking about.

"Dean, your going to get yourself killed." Sam gritted out, refusing to let go of the bag. "Not only that, what if you loose control out there. Your not going to be doing us any favors if you go on another Demonic killing spree like you did last time." He reasoned, obviously not noticing his father standing in the room. John was positive he wasn't supposed to hear that. What the Hell did that mean, Demonic Killing Spree?

"Oh, please." Dean blew off. "The Mark's practically gone. I haven't had the urge to kill anybody in days. I'm practically cured. I'm sure I can control it enough to kill one damn Angel and come right back." He tried to convince Sam, as he yanked more on his bag. John listening to everything with a suspicious feeling.

"What Mark?" John asked, stepping between his children and grabbing the bag. "While your at it, why don't you explain what 'Demonic Killing Spree' means as well." He ordered, his voice going deathly low. Glaring at each of his sons.

"Fuck." He heard Dean spit as he let go of the bag and glared at his brother.

John didn't know what it was with his youngest son and coffee. But somehow, before he got any answers, Sam had managed to talk everyone into the kitchen with a big steaming pot sitting on the table beside them. Maybe he thought it was more relaxing, or easier to take bad news if your sitting at a table with a warm cup between your hands. Maybe he was just stalling for time.

He looked between his children, taking in each of their expressions. Between Sam's fight or flight reflex kicking in. His discomfort with the situation, and obvious wish to get up and run away prevalent on his face. To Dean's anger, impatience, and extreme wish to get on with what he wanted to do in the first place. His fingers tapping on the surface of the table in frustration.

Sam cleared his throat in an attempt to break the tension, before setting down his cup of coffee.

"So." Sam began, struggling to find the words he needed for this. "Dean and I haven't been completely honest these past few weeks." He admitted with a sigh.

"Yeah, no shit." John said harshly, staring down his two boys. If the situation hadn't been so dire, he would probably be amused at them. Both looking like two little boys caught picking on the girl at the park, and being lectured and grounded for it. Sam swallowed and looked at Dean who pointedly looked away. Seemingly not wanting to have anything to do with this conversation.

"Alright, well..." Sam hedged, looking down at his coffee for a moment. John wondering just how bad this could be. It couldn't possibly be worse then what was going on in his head. "For starters, Castiel isn't entirely human." He forced out. John giving Sam yet another 'no shit' look. He guessed that one almost right off. "And I didn't just find him to help me get Dean out of Hell."

"Then why did you look him up?" John asked, concerned that he might have actually been making a deal or something. That they had been living with a demon all this time.

"I didn't. In fact, Dean met him before I did when he was pulled out of Hell. Castiel did it on orders, because he was an Angel." Sam told him, shrugging his shoulders. "I didn't actually meet him until a few weeks later, when we where hunting a witch. I mean, we where all trying to stop an Apocalypse, but he wasn't around as much as we led you to believe."

"So Cas is an Angel?" John clarified, staring at his son expectantly.

"Was." Dean cut in with a glare. When John turned his look on him, he spoke up. "Funny thing happens when an Angel rebels against the rest of Heaven to protect humans. They're usually hunted and killed. He had to spend the next year running away from Angel's, while helping us. It wasn't an easy gig." He defended his partner. "Then when the Apocalypse was over, and he was an Angel again. He had to spend the next two years running, while leading a civil war against an Archangel who wanted to start the whole thing back up again. Yet somehow he still managed to find the time to help us when we needed it." He ranted. "Now he's dying because, once again, he chose us over them, and had his Grace stolen. He's having to find other Angel's, and take their Grace in order to survive and protect us. This is a waste of time, I should be out there trying to track down another one to help him." He said, turning to his brother in agitation.

"Kill one of his own kind to save him?" John asked, looking at his son's desperate face.

"I don't care about those duchebags." Dean yelled, knocking his spoon off the table. "Especially after half the shit they had done to him in the past few years."

"Dean, calm down." Sam calmed, placing a hand on his brother's shoulders and lowering him to his seat again. "We'll help Castiel, we will." He soothed, keeping his voice soft.

"Okay, so Castiel isn't human, but an Angel, and your still sleeping with him?" John asked, staring his son down.

"Oh, fuck off." Dean defended, not even bothering to look at his father. "At least he's not a Demon." He said, stopping John short. That's right, he had mentioned something about that in his journal. They must have read that thing cover to cover several times by now. "We know he's trustworthy, and he's definitely given enough of himself over the past few years. I don't need to question him."

"What did I say about non-human's Dean?" John asked, his voice dropping low again, in his anger.

"You said monsters." Dean shot, crossing his arms defiantly. "Cas isn't a monster, and in a few days, it won't matter anyway. He says he's turning human, but last time he ran out of Grace, he almost died. Either way, he's not going to be in the monster category anymore. So shove it."

"Where the Hell did you get this attitude, boy?" John spat, his anger rising. He never tolerated attitude from his children, and right now Dean was trying his patience.

"In case it's escaped your notice." Dean started, standing up to glare at his father. "I'm not a child anymore." He spit out before turning to the hall. "Sam, this has been lovely and all, but I have more important things to do." He said, walking down the hall. Presumably to Castiel's room.

John watched him go, fighting the urge to follow him and drill into his head just how dangerous Castiel could be. He turned back to Sam, who was running his hands over his face. Watching Dean walk away with a look of pity, before turning back to his father.

"He's just worried." Sam tried to defend. "This isn't the first time something like this has happened. Add that to the fact that he's effectively cursed by a Knight of Hell, and the only cure is sitting in that room dying...He's bound to be a bit crabby."

"Cursed?" John asked, looking back at his son. He knew Castiel was doing something.

"Yeah." Sam started, pouring himself another cup of coffee. "He met a Knight of Hell a while ago, and ended up Cursed with the Mark of Cain." He explained, cutting John off from thinking Castiel had something to do with it. "Pretty nasty thing. It makes you want to kill, hungers for it actually. Dean had a hard time controlling it, until eventually...Castiel and I decided drastic measures had to be taken. Keep Dean in the bunker, maybe it will starve the Mark, and he'll get better. I mean, Angel Grace will poison it. But the only supply of it we have is Castiel, and Dean won't allow it."

"This Mark made him kill people?" John asked, not knowing how he should feel about that. On one hand, killing people was wrong, and he shouldn't be getting away with that. But on the other, it was his son, who was cursed.

"Oh, he went full on Demon at some point." Sam admitted, pulling a flask out of his pocket and adding a healthy dose to his coffee. "Luckily, we already found a way to cure a Demon, and bring it's humanity back to it. Though it did take Castiel restraining him. Then he had a bit of a relapse, and we decided we needed to do this whole re-hab thing." He finished, taking a big gulp from his mug.

"So he's dangerous? Or in danger of becoming a monster himself?" John asked angrily. His son had become a demon, and is sleeping with a monster using the guise of being an angel. What the Hell had been going on these past few years?

"No." Sam answered, watching the hall his brother had disappeared down. "I've seen his arm. The mark is practically gone. I think keeping him from people is helping. At least I hope that's what it is." He said rubbing his face with his hands.

John stared at his youngest. He'd been keeping himself in check purely by will power alone. He didn't know what to think. He had thought his boys where getting along fine without him, but now this. His boys where lying, fornicating with monsters, and getting themselves cursed by demons.

He didn't know how to react, so he placed his hands on the table, took a deep breath, and pushed himself away. He walked out of the kitchen and to his room, closing the door behind him. Not trusting himself to talk to his children at the moment.

He looked down at the box of books he had taken from a storage room, and picked up the next in the series. He wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. He wanted to believe they thought they where doing the right thing. Hoping he'll find some answers in the pages, he opened the book with a deep breath. This time he wasn't stopping until he read them fully.

There you have another chapter. Dean is worried about Castiel, who is not looking so good at the moment. What will John do with all this new information? I wonder.

On a note, the part where I insinuated that John had slept with a demon, that is actually canon. My lovely friend had given me a copy of John Winchesters journal for my birthday a year or more ago, and I remember that part.

Anyhoo, I hope you enjoyed. I'm thinking that there is only going to be a few more chapters before the end, but we still have a few more weeks before then.

As always, have a wonderful day, and reviews make me happy.