A/N: We're finally at the end! :'( And I know this chapter is super long compared to all the ones previous, but there was just SO MUCH emotional trauma that needed to be addressed. Here we go...

Chapter 9

Sam couldn't move. For all his years hunting monsters and bravely facing the evil that lurked in the dark, he was now frozen in terror, unable to act as the Devil himself strode toward his brother. A quick glance at Cas, passed out on the floor, showed the angel was no longer in any position to help them.

Dean retreated, only to find his back up against a conduit. He glanced at the Colt in his hand as though debating whether to use it again, but evidently decided against it, as he let his arm drop to his side. A grim resignation filled his eyes, an expression that sent chills down Sam's spine.

"You want a knockdown drag-out right here?" Dean said. "Fine, I'll just call your buddy Michael down and we can do this properly."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath. "What? Dean, no!"

"Get out of here, Sam. You don't need to see this."

"Oh, I think he does," Lucifer interjected, and extended his arm toward Dean, fingers curling into a gnarled grip.

Dean's hands shot to his throat, the Colt clanging uselessly on the ground.

"And I don't think you'll be calling anyone," Lucifer continued. He crooked his clawed hand, causing Dean to cough out a gasp for air and fall to his knees.

"Stop!" Sam yelled. "If you hurt him, I swear I will never say yes. You hear me? Never!"

Lucifer canted his head in a smug mien. "Oh, I think you will, Sam. I think without your brother around to give you hope, you'll give in all that more quickly."

Sam's eyes shot to Dean's bulging ones as he fought for breath. He couldn't let this happen, couldn't let his brother die. "If I say yes, will you let him go?"

Dean jerked his head sharply, mouth moving but unable to form words. His face was turning beet-red, and he'd doubled over to list sideways against the conduit.

Lucifer loosened his fingers a fraction, allowing Dean to suck in one ragged gasp, and turned a considering look toward Sam. "You'll say yes right now? If I let him go?"

"S'm," Dean choked out, but the strangled word sent him into another fit of retching.

"If you let him live and leave unharmed!" Sam said, not meeting his brother's furious gaze. "Cas too."

Lucifer's lips pursed, and a moment later he relaxed his hand. Dean collapsed in a heap on the floor. "You drive a hard bargain, Sam, but you have my word."

Sam's shoulders were pulled so taut he thought they'd snap like a broken spring coil. He couldn't believe he was doing this. After everything, after all his fears and doubts over his own resolve, stubbornness was what guided him now rather than weakness. How ironic. He just hoped Dean would forgive him. "None of your demons will stop them?" he pressed.

"None of my demons will stop them," Lucifer repeated, and took a step forward. "Now stop stalling. Unless you want to see me pop your brother's head off like a baby bird."

Sam swallowed hard, the fated word sticking to his tongue like sandpaper. He hoped it wouldn't hurt.

A flash of blinding light exploded before him, swallowing Lucifer whole, and Sam staggered back in shock. He hadn't even spoken yet! He threw an arm up over his eyes, braced for the deluge of power that would snuff out his consciousness and bury it deep under possession. Only it never came. Lucifer let out a howl of rage and pain, and when the nova sparked out, he was gone. Sam stared blankly at the empty space, and finally his gaze drifted down to where Cas lay on the floor, barely propped up on one elbow. His other palm was planted in the middle of an angel-banishing sigil drawn in blood next to him. Cas lifted his eyes to meet Sam's, and something passed between them—relief, astonishment. Then Cas flicked his gaze toward Dean.

Sam darted to his brother's side. "Dean! Are you okay?" He grasped Dean's shoulders and helped him sit upright.

Dean coughed into his fist several times before finally regaining control of his breathing. "The h'll happened?" he rasped.

"I'm not sure." Sam glanced back at Cas, who had slumped on the ground again. "I thought that sigil sent angels back to Heaven."

"Won't that be a nice surprise for the dicks upstairs," Dean groused, and cleared his throat twice.

"Lucifer's…banned from Heaven," Cas spoke up, voice weak. "He probably…bounced off the gates."

Sam paused to gape at the angel, not sure if he was serious or not. Cas's lips twitched faintly as though he found the thought amusing. Maybe blood loss was making him delirious. There sure seemed to be a great deal that he'd used to draw that rune.

"Let's hope he gets knocked out to Jupiter or something," Dean grunted, voice still hoarse. "But to be safe, we should book it." His gaze automatically moved to Cas in preparation for having to explain the idiom, but the angel had laid his head back on the concrete and closed his eyes.

Sam's heart stuttered. "Cas?" He and Dean scrambled over and gently rolled Cas onto his back. There were two bloody tears in the trench coat, one along the arm, the other across the ribs. The worst sight was the deep puncture wound high in his chest that had not only seeped blood in a widening arc around the hole, but white-bluish light was also peeking through the torn fabric. That definitely could not be good.

"Oh shit," Sam breathed, and pressed two fingers to Castiel's neck. He was rewarded with a slow but noticeable pulse.

"Cas, hey." Dean tapped the angel's cheek. "Wake up, man. This is not a good place to take a nap."

Eyelids fluttered sluggishly, half-shuttering blue irises wreathed in pain. "My apologies," Cas mumbled, and tried to roll over again. The Winchesters each gripped a shoulder to hold him steady.

"How'd you get here?" Sam asked Dean. Because if Crowley teleported him and they were stranded, making a getaway was going to be really difficult.

"Impala's outside," he replied, groaning as he helped haul Cas to his feet. The last of the angel's colored drained from his face, and he nearly crumpled. "Crap. Sam, grab the weapons, would ya?"

Sam waited a beat to make sure Castiel wouldn't topple once he let go, and then hurried around to scoop up the Colt and angel blades. As he straightened, he heard the echo of a door slamming and shouts from the other end of the plant. Shit again.

"We have to go!" he hissed at Dean, and looped one arm in Castiel's to help drag the angel toward the door. The three of them stumbled into the waning light of evening, the lengthening shadows providing a bit of cover as they fled the plant. It seemed the remaining demons had charged in from the other side of the compound, leaving their exit clear. Sam caught sight of the Impala up ahead, a glinting black mound in the gradually deepening dusk, and felt an irrational joy at seeing it, not just any escape vehicle. Not that he'd ever tell Dean how happy the Impala had just made him; only his older brother had an unnatural bond with the car.

They half-laid, half-pushed Cas into the backseat, and then the two climbed up front. In the next instant, the Impala revved to life, and Dean gunned it toward the road. They drove for several minutes, just to put some distance between them and the demons. And Lucifer when he finally made it back from wherever. Sam wondered if even in the next county they'd feel the effects of an archangel's explosive wrath.

Dean finally pulled into the parking lot of a dumpy motel and went to rent them a room. Sam stayed in the car with Cas, staring out the windshield and feeling numb after that harrowing escape. They'd come so close to losing everything back there, and the realization that they hadn't, that they'd survived, was almost too much to believe. Not only that, but in the subsequent adrenaline crash, Sam couldn't help but hear Lucifer's sinister susurrations whispering in his ear. He'd almost said 'yes.' No matter what his reasons or good intentions in the end, he'd given in.

He jumped when Dean opened the passenger side door.

"Dude, you coming?"

Nodding mutely, Sam slipped out and moved to help Dean get Cas from the Impala to the room. The sun had fully set now, and one of the porch lights was busted, so they'd have no trouble secretly getting a beaten and bloody guy inside without anyone seeing. When Cas didn't stir at their promptings, Sam was afraid he'd lost consciousness—or worse—and he berated himself for not keeping a closer watch on the wounded angel. But then Castiel turned his head, revealing eyes wide open, though dull.

"Come on, Cas," Dean coaxed, tugging on his arm. "It's not that far."

Castiel scooted out of the Impala, face tightening in a pained grimace, but he didn't make a sound as the brothers shuffled him inside. They eased him onto the closest bed, and then Dean jogged back out to retrieve their med kit while Sam started shrugging the angel out of the trench coat to get a better look at the wounds. This was good, this methodical, second-nature busy work to occupy his hands and mind so he wouldn't have to dwell on miserable thoughts.

Dean returned, and together they set about patching up Cas's injuries. The angel remained stoic through it all, simply staring straight ahead as they cleansed the lacerations and slathered them with antiseptic. They'd bound the chest wound first because it was still bleeding, though not heavily. Even with the layers of bandages though, a soft glow emanated through the white gauze, which frankly unnerved Sam. And Dean too, apparently, because as soon as the other wounds were tended, he grabbed an extra blanket and spread it over Castiel's shoulders, draping the ends over to cover his chest.

"Hey man, you're gonna heal up soon, right?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded mutely.

Sam picked up a lax wrist and examined the flesh rubbed raw from iron shackles. They'd only been in Lucifer's grasp for a day; how hard had Cas struggled to cause this much damage? Harder than Sam had. The abrasions actually looked a little healed, but he cleaned and bandaged them anyway. Cas didn't say a thing. Neither did Sam.

Dean suddenly let out a frustrated snort. "Alright, what the hell is wrong with you two? You haven't spoken a single word since we escaped."

Sam flinched, and tucked in the last strip of gauze around Cas's wrist. "What am I supposed to say, Dean?" he said hollowly. "You want to yell at me now? Ream me out for almost saying yes to Lucifer? Fine, go ahead." He stood up and turned around, spreading his arms in a gesture of vulnerability. "Just tell me how I nearly destroyed the world. Again."

Dean stared at him for a long moment, then rolled his shoulder awkwardly. "You want me to say I'm not pissed as hell that you offered to give yourself up for me? 'Cause it ain't true. Of course I'm mad about that, Sam. You should never sacrifice yourself for me."

Something sour stirred in Sam's gut. "Why is it okay for you to do that though? You were all ready to call Michael down and say yes!"

Dean blanched, and turned on his heel to hide his face. "That…it was the last option I saw at the moment."

"And what do you think mine was?" Sam bit back his rising tone, catching sight of Castiel in his peripheral vision. The angel was curling in on himself, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to fly away. Sam tried to tamp down some of his rising anger, but his voice still came out hard toward Dean's back.

"Why is you saying yes heroic and me saying yes a failure?" He shook his head. "I'm never going to make up for Ruby and popping Satan's box in the first place, am I? No matter what I do, you'll never trust me again. Why should I even try?"

Dean whirled back around. "What the hell are you saying?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, Dean. Everyone thinks I'll say yes, that I'm too weak to resist Lucifer for long. Even you believe it."

"I never said that."

"You don't have to; I can see it on your face."

Dean surged forward, catching Sam off guard and grabbing him by the arms almost to the point of shaking him. "Where is this coming from?"

Sam ducked his gaze. In truth, he was all twisted up on the inside, unable to tell up from down anymore. He thought he knew what was right, what was wrong, but somehow, everything was jumbled. And it made him angry.

Dean tightened his grip, and his voice pitched low. "Did Lucifer…? Sam, what the hell did he do to you?"

"Nothing. You saw, remember?" he said bitterly.

"I remember busting into a room and finding my brother trying to cover up tears. That's not 'nothing,' Sam."

"Sam," Cas spoke up, voice gravelly. "Whatever mind games Lucifer tried to deceive you with…you have to trust in Dean's love for you. He's your brother, and would do anything for you. Nothing…nothing will ever change that."

"Damn straight," Dean added. "Hey." He lightly shook Sam until his eyes lifted. "Talk to me."

Sam tried to look away again, but another jerk from Dean had his gaze snapping back. "I…I'm a monster, Dean. All I do is get people hurt, killed. I'm going to get you killed, either because I'm weak and will say yes, or because you will in a desperate attempt to save me. But it's not worth it."

"You're my brother; that's the only reason I'll ever need."

"I'm a constant disappointment. You're the strong one, Dean."

Something haunted entered his brother's eyes, and at first Sam thought it was directed toward him, but Dean stepped away and ran a hand down his face, one of his guilty tells.

"I'm not strong, Sam," he said, voice thick with barely constrained emotion. "The truth is back there wasn't the first time I said yes to Michael."

Sam frowned. "What?" Was this about the alternate future the angels had sent him to? Sam thought Dean hadn't said yes, and that was the whole point. Besides, his brother couldn't blame himself for actions he hadn't even taken.

"After you were gone…with Lucifer…" Dean took a shuddering breath. "I didn't know what to do. All I could think about was Satan wearing you to the prom, and I wanted to save you from that, Sammy."

"I don't understand." Sam's brows knit together as he stared at Dean, whose eyes were swimming with regret and remorse.

"I didn't know where you were or how to find you, so I called Zachariah, told him I'd say yes if Michael went and ganked the Devil right then and there, before it was you."

Sam heard Cas inhale sharply, but he was still struggling to process what Dean was saying.

Dean glanced between them and let out a humorless snort. "I was ready, too, had already said yes. Then Crowley showed up and banished Zach's ass before he could call Michael. Saved my hide," he added with a mutter. "The point is I was the weak one; I caved first."

Sam felt the oxygen get sucked from his lungs. "So," he said quietly, "you didn't have faith that I'd last even one day with Lucifer?"

"It wasn't about me not having faith in you! God, Sam, I didn't want you to live out the rest of eternity as an angel condom, or be killed by Michael. Because you deserve better; you deserve a life! And maybe after the Apocalypse was over and I was gone…you could have that normal life you always wanted."

"Knowing what it cost you?" Sam gestured helplessly. "How could you think I'd be okay with that?"

"Better me than you. And not because you're weak, Sam, or a monster—which is not true, by the way." Dean jabbed a finger at him. "But because I'm your older brother, and it's my job to look out for you."

Sam just shook his head. It was a tired argument, but the familiarity was oddly comforting. Was that really what it had always been about? He thought back to that birthday so long ago, in a crappy extended stay motel just like this one with Dean attempting to make pasta. Sam only vaguely remembered that it tasted disgusting, or how Dean had nearly choked on several bites. No, his clearest memories of that time was Dean being determined to put on a cheerful front, ignoring for one evening how John left them alone for days at a time, how there wasn't much food on the counter, and how there were no birthday presents. But Dean had made that day special, just as he did every year. His brother had literally gone to Hell and back for Sam, had always been there for him, even after he royally screwed up. How had Sam ever doubted that?

"I'm sorry. I just…I don't know how I got so mixed up."

Dean put a hand on his shoulder again. "Lucifer's mind games are no joke, Sammy, I get that. But listen to me." His grip squeezed. "No matter what happens, no matter the crap we've been through, the rough patches we've had and will have in the future—because let's face it, you're a pain in the ass."

Sam snorted. "Is this supposed to be a pep talk?"

Dean's mouth quirked. "Yeah, and I need you to hear and remember this—I'm proud of you. Of us."

A pressure Sam hadn't realized had been on his chest suddenly lifted, and he felt some of the tension bleed from his shoulders. "I'm proud of you too, Dean. And you've never been weak. Not even in Hell." He reached up to clasp his brother's arm in return. They shared a brief look of shared understanding and brotherly accord before Dean broke away. Sam couldn't help but smirk—right, no chick flick moments.

Dean coughed into his fist and then turned to Cas. "What about you? What lies did Lucifer try to convince you of?"

Cas stiffened, and quickly averted his eyes. "It's not important. I should actually go. You and your brother probably have more to discuss." He tried to stand, but his knees buckled almost immediately under the weight, and both Dean and Sam lunged to catch him.

"Bull," Dean called, holding the swaying angel steady. "You're in no shape to go anywhere. Plus, we're not letting anything simmer here." He skewered both of them with a no-nonsense look. "Come on, Cas. Sam and I both fessed up, now it's your turn."

Sam's jaw tightened at the choice of phrase, knowing where this was headed. He had only a vague idea of what Satan had tried to brainwash Cas with, and knew that they were treading very dangerous ground here. Because Dean's temper often got the best of him in the moment, and if he lost it now and Cas took off, they might never see the angel again. But Dean was also right in that they couldn't let these doubts fester and take root later. Cas didn't deserve to live with that.

Sam slowly sat next to him on the bed. "Cas," he said softly. "Lucifer told me about the panic room."

Cas still didn't look up, but Sam saw his shoulders bunch forward tighter. Cas had said his wings were too damaged to fly, which in this case may have been a good thing.

"I know," the angel said despondently. "I won't ask for your forgiveness, Sam; I don't deserve it. Just please know that I never meant to hurt you. I thought…I thought I was doing the right thing."

"We all did, Cas." Sam rested a hand lightly on one bandaged wrist. When Lucifer had said Castiel's loyalty to him was obvious, Sam had doubted the assessment. Now he'd seen firsthand how the angel was willing to fight for him, to sacrifice himself for Sam's sake as much as for Dean's. "And I don't hate or blame you."

Cas finally looked at him, a disbelieving yet desperately hopeful look in his eyes that tore at Sam's heart. Lucifer really did know how to work a number on them both.

"Hold up," Dean interrupted, expression hardening with the beginnings of suspicion. "What about the panic room?"

"It doesn't matter," Sam tried to say, but Castiel spoke up at the same time.

"I let Sam out, the night he went to kill Lilith."

Dean stared at him dumbly for a moment, as though waiting for Cas to say it was some stupid joke, some stupid cruel joke. But Cas wouldn't meet his gaze. Then the ire kicked in. "Wait, you did that?"

Sam let out a heavy sigh. He was already exhausted from Carthage, his captivity with Lucifer, and having his own blowup with Dean only moments ago; he really didn't have the energy for another. And neither did Cas, by the gray tinge to the angel's skin and the way he could barely hold himself upright.

"You son-of-a-bitch."

"Dean, stop."

"Why? Shit, Sam, because of him you popped Satan's box!"

"I let Lucifer free," Sam rejoined. "Cas didn't push me into killing Lilith."

"No, he just opened a damn door," Dean snarled, spinning away from them and starting to pace.

"We all had a part to play," Sam snapped back. "Sure, Cas let me out, but if it hadn't been him, another angel would've done it. I'm the one who went with Ruby."

Dean continued to storm back and forth in agitation, shooting baleful glares at the angel. "I trusted you."

Cas cringed. "You have every right to take your vengeance, Dean. I…I'm not in any condition to stop you." His gaze drifted to the angel blade sitting on the table next to the first aid supplies, far out of Castiel's reach, and there was a grim acceptance in his tone.

Dean scowled and appeared to be seriously considering punching the angel or something, despite his wounds, but then he traced the path of Cas's gaze, eyes landing on the angelic sword. He stopped short, confusion first replacing the fury, and then finally shock as he gleaned Cas's meaning.

Sam gave him a pointed look. Watch what you say.

Dean ran a hand over his hair. "Shit, Cas," he muttered. "I'm…I'm not gonna kill you, if that's what you think."

Sam frowned at the way Cas remained fixated on the floor, and then he remembered what Lucifer had told him when he'd asked to see Castiel, how Cas had a decision to make, because either angels would eventually kill him…or Dean would, when he found out about the panic room.

Something dark and ugly curdled in Sam's gut, and he unintentionally dug his fingers into Castiel's wrist, making him wince. He quickly let go and moved his hand to brace Cas's shoulder instead. "That's what Lucifer told you, isn't it? To convince you to join him? That you'd have nowhere else to go because Dean and I wouldn't forgive you? Maybe even want to kill you?"

Castiel rolled his shoulder in discomfort, not quite sloughing off Sam's touch, but not quite accepting it. "As I said, it's not of import."

"Like hell it isn't," Dean interjected, exchanging a look with Sam, and this time they were both on the same page once again. They weren't kicking Cas to the curb over this, and the angel needed to know that.

"Cas," Sam prodded gently. "What happened when you were recalled to Heaven? It was right after that you came and let me out."

Dean's eyes widened. "You were gonna tell me something. That you knew Lilith was the final Seal. So if you knew Sam was gonna release Lucifer, why'd you do it?" When Cas didn't respond, Dean grabbed a chair from the dinette table and dragged it over, sitting right in front of the angel and forcing him to look up. "I need to understand here, Cas. Tell me why."

A flicker of consternation lit Castiel's eyes. "I…thought it was for the best if this world was destroyed to make way for a new one. There's just so much suffering and cruelty…"

"So, Bible camp was just some big lecture on how the human race is so screwed up we deserve extermination?"

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's tone. Not helping.

Something haunted flitted across Cas's face. "It wasn't a…" He swallowed hard. "'Lecture.'"

Dean straightened. "You mean torture."

Cas furrowed his brow. "It…hurt, yes. But it was correction, not torture." There was a hint of doubt in his inflection though, and suddenly Sam wondered if Lucifer's methods weren't all that different from Heaven's.

Dean rubbed his face. "Okay, so they got you back in line, and you opened the panic room—"

"I am sorry, Dean."

Sam gave his brother a meaningful look, and Dean sighed.

"I know you are, Cas. It's okay. Sam's right, we all made mistakes that night."

"I will do everything I can to redeem myself to you both."

Something clicked with Sam then, the lost, desperate note in Castiel's voice resonating with his own fears and inner desires. "He's your brother, and would do anything for you. Nothing…nothing will ever change that."

Sam had never thought about it before, but angels were all brothers and sisters, right? Which meant Cas's own siblings had tortured him, had banished him from Heaven. Lucifer was even Cas's brother. It had been easy to see Castiel as a soldier of Heaven, one who went AWOL from the ranks to fight for another noble cause. But what if family was just as important to Cas as it was to the Winchesters? And what if, when Cas was afraid Sam and Dean would never forgive him…he was afraid of losing the only family he had left?

Now that the idea entered Sam's head, it felt right. Cas was their family now. Sam wasn't sure when the transition had happened, but Cas had sacrificed everything for them, and that kind of loyalty didn't come out of mere duty or a sense of morality. No, Cas had chosen them. So they'd stand by him in return. No matter what.

"You don't have to redeem yourself with us, Cas. Family doesn't need to do that."

Cas cocked his head, and a crease marred his forehead as though he didn't fully want to trust the hope being offered.

Sam nodded. "You're our family now. Nothing will ever change that." He glanced at Dean, who looked slightly taken aback, but after a moment, his older brother reached out and clasped Cas's other shoulder.

"I know me and Sam are probably poor substitutes for what you had back in Heaven—though, really, you're better off without those dicks who torture their brothers."

"Dean." Sam shot him a pointed look.

"What I'm trying to say is," Dean continued, sparing Sam a retaliatory glare. "We're here, if you'll have us. A Winchester in all but name."

Cas's shoulders shuddered, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment. "That would…be a great honor."

Sam and Dean exchanged a grin, but then they both turned serious again when they noticed Cas had slumped against Sam.

"Okay, you need to get some rest," Dean said, shifting so he could help lay the angel back against the bed. Castiel grimaced as the movement tugged his wounds, which Sam really hoped would heal soon.

He tucked the blanket tighter around him, and patted his arm. "Take it easy, Cas. We'll be here when you wake up."

Cas let out a long exhale as though releasing a mountain of burdens. "I know."

Sam smiled. There were some things you could always have faith in.

A/N: And the three of them are back together again! *g* I hope you all enjoyed this story. Come back next Friday for the first chapter of my next fic, Gone Nuclear - "Did Crowley know that giving Cas that second stolen grace would trigger a chain reaction to rival a nuclear time bomb? Probably not…"