Hey guys! :D

I'm really sorry, I know it's been forever since I updated anything. Uni life has been hectic and there have been new fandoms to find and obsess over. But today I thought 'y'know what? I've been neglecting my fanfics!' and so I decided to update :P I'm hoping to finish all my unfinished stories before I write any new ones 'cause they really need finishing.

This is probably the most challenging story I've ever written, there's so much going on here, with the three perspectives and Cas' side storyline, I keep forgetting what I've already done!

Hopefully this is good enough to appease you for a bit

This chapter is dedicated to litbitnurse87

Enjoy ^_^

'So, you have three days left before your rent is due' Dean said, Reymes nodded vigorously. Dean sighed and raised an eyebrow 'What exactly did you ask for? This ain't exactly a mansion' Dean gestured to the spacious, but not elaborate bedroom. Reymes shuffled backwards until his knees buckled against the bed.

'A bit of popularity and fame. Enough to set my future, not enough to draw too much attention' Dean chuckled sardonically, walking around the room, inspecting the layout, all entrances and exits.

'Oh buddy, you make a demon deal, you might as well go all out. No point in being half-assed when you're selling your soul'

'I regret it you, know' the singer said morosely from the bed 'It wasn't worth it. I traded mediocrity for above average' he sighed 'No one will remember me, when I'm gone' Dean looked down at the forlorn man. He couldn't help but feel angry. Sam would have sympathised, but Dean just couldn't.

'Well, no one made you French kiss your soul goodbye' he said harshly 'No one will remember you 'cause you never did anything great. But that doesn't mean that what you've done isn't important. You gotta do what matters. Whether people notice or not!' He stopped scanning the walls for openings and shook himself out of his thoughts. He pulled a bag out of his inside pocket and peered inside

'Almost out of goofer dust. There's more in the trunk. Here' he tossed the quater-full bag at Reymes who fumbled, but caught it. 'That stuff is important. But we won't use it until the last day' he said 'I don't have a crate-load and it won't work indefinitely against Hell-hounds anyway.' He paused for a second taking note of Reymes' reaction. He just looked scared. 'Yeah' he said bitterly 'Hell-hounds exist.' He sank into an armchair. 'Right, well we have three days to barricade this room and stuff. Or actually, have you got somewhere smaller? Preferably with only one door?' Reymes considered, then nodded

'This way' he said leading them out the door and along the corridor to a windowless closet.

'Perfect' said Dean, peering in. 'Right, get this space cleared out, this is going to be your hidey-hole for when those Hell dogs come a-knockin'' He turned to face Reymes, hands on hips 'I'll be back when I can.'

'What?!' Reymes' eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open 'You're, you're leaving? Just like that? And you'll be back when you can?!'

'Trust me' Dean said. 'I'll be back in time to gank your unholy bitch, it's the entire reason I'm here. I know the hallucinations will get worse and that's scary as Hell ... well, not quite but whatever, but they won't actually come for you until all your time is up. You have two more safe days, and I'll be back by the second. I promise.' Reymes looked like he wanted to protest but Dean was already out the room.

People like Reymes irked him, got under his skin. He just hated that people sold their souls for something so meaningless. Fame, talent, a hot girl, Seriously? At least his sacrifice had been for his brother. Those years in Hell still haunted him but he knew that if he were to go back, he would do the same thing again. If he had done one good thing in his life, it was Sammy. He passed Patricia who sniffed disapprovingly at him as he left. He got into the car and sat at the wheel for a while, thinking.

So in three days he would gank a Hell-hound and complete the first trial. Then he would have to go back into Hell itself through Purgatory to rescue a soul. Then he would have to find a demon and save it. Before Sam could do that last one. It was a tall order, even for him. And as he checked his blind spot and moved off, he caught a glimpse of Reymes' house.

What should he do about him? Killing the Hell-hound would buy him ... maybe a couple extra days while Crowley or whoever sent another one, and Dean wouldn't be around. Was it worth it? Two more days of fear? Just so Dean could do what he needed to help his brother? If a demon happened to show up he might be able to threaten it into voiding the contract but that was a long shot. Crowley knew that Sam and Dean were on the lookout for demons, there was no way he'd be that stupid. And anyway, the guy was a punk, what he did didn't matter to nobody but some obsessive, teenage girls who'd cry for maybe a week and then find some other dude to worship. But he was still a human being, with a life, crappy as it was. Their business wasn't saving people, hunting things for nothing. Sure, they couldn't save everyone, but they always tried... right?

He shifted uncomfortably as he turned the corner. For now, he needed to find a joint he could use to hide from Sam, he might not be in the right state yet but as soon as he figured out he wasn't in Brookhaven he'd make his way here. He had actually been tempted to go to Brookhaven first, he had wanted this done quickly, but he knew that Sam knew he was impatient and so that would have been his first stop once he had discovered the same three articles Dean had, and the kid didn't sleep anymore so any time he could buy would help. He pulled up next to a posh hotel with a bar, it was the last place in town Sammy would look for him, and besides, he needed a drink.

Castiel appeared in Brookhaven, a regular town with a regular vibe. Sam hadn't given him his exact location so he called him again and was soon sitting opposite him in a diner. Sam looked terrible, he observed, his hair was lank and oily and his eyes were ringed with shadows and had a half-dead, half-manic look in them that would have been disturbing if Castiel had not been expecting it, none-the-less, he should say something

'You look terrible' he said, frowning. Sam snorted

'Tell me something I don't know, Cas'

'The average flying speed of a bee is thirty three kilometres per hour, although they are slower than that when they are carrying pollen and -'

'Not what I meant'

'Oh' humans were so confusing. There was a silence. Sam was always more uncomfortable around Castiel, he thought it might me something to do with his religious beliefs clashing with reality, his reaction when they had first met was proof of that, and Sam still prayed, as if finding out that angels and God were real wasn't enough, he clung to the belief that they were benevolent and he was proven wrong at every turn.

'Why are you here?'

'Dean asked me to check on you'

The waitress came over and Sam ordered a coffee

'Where is he?'

'I can't tell you that. Sam'

'I still don't understand why you're on his side? I thought you liked him better'

'That's precisely the reason that I am helping him'

'But he's looking to get himself killed!'

'So are you'

Sam spluttered 'That's ... that's not the point! Look' He said, lowering his voice 'I'm Lucifer's true vessel right? I'm the one with the demon blood and the psychic crap, Dean is the vessel for an archangel. Do the math! Which one deserves to live?'

'This decision cannot be made with math, Sam' Castiel said sternly 'Dean is trying to help you, like he always has done, he cannot change that. It was drilled into him by your father that he must always look after you-'

'It's not a decision!' Sam cried out 'It's fate! It should be me! It has to be me.'

'Why?' Castiel cocked his head and leaned forwards, searching Sam's eyes with his own. This answer would cement things, he knew, it would seal completely whether or not Castiel would help Sam to save Dean and destroy himself in the process.

'Because ... because he's better than me, he deserves to live his life without having to worry about looking after me. I can look after him for a change.'

Castiel sat back and smiled sadly at Sam. He was motivated by logic and stubbornness. Dean's answer would have been so much simpler, if Castiel had asked the same question of Dean, the answer would have been immediate 'Because he's my brother'

'Sorry, Sam.' he said, and he was gone.

So what do you think? Any good? I'll try and update faster but it might be another long while before I can get another chapter up I'm afraid :( real life sucks.

Please let me know your opinions, good and bad, constructive critisism is appreciated

Love you all

Love Tibbins xx