Thank you so much Jenjoremy for all you've fixing up this chapter. Thank you Gredelina1 for all your support. Thank you all for reading xxx

Chapter Seventeen

Dean eyes were starting to burn and blur with tiredness by the time they passed by Boise. It was just past midnight, and he didn't want to stop, but he knew there were still another five hundred miles to go, and he'd never make it without getting some sleep.

"We're going to have to stop," he said to Castiel. "I've got to get a few hours at least."

"Yes," Castiel agreed. "We both need to sleep."

Dean's eyebrows rose. Castiel had only slept before in the last days before the apocalypse, when he was fallen almost completely to human. Dean was sure he wasn't fallen like that now, not if he was healing people, but why else would the angel need sleep? Perhaps it was a part of his human delusion. If he really thought he was Emmanuel, he would also think he was human, and he would think he needed to sleep.

"I'll stop at the next motel," Dean said.

They drove on for another twenty minutes before they came to a place on the edge of town advertising vacancies. Dean pulled into the lot and stopped in a spot beside the office. He checked he had his wallet and then climbed out of the car. Castiel imitated him and stood beside the car like a waxwork. "You want your own room?" Dean asked him.

"No, we can get a double if you don't mind. There is no need to spend more money than we need and I am assuming you are not going to want to stop for long."

"You're right," Dean said. "Give me just a minute."

He walked into the motel office and saw a tired looking middle-aged woman sitting behind the desk. She smiled at him and asked, "King?"

"Two queens, please," Dean said.

"How many nights?"

"Just one. We'll be gone by morning. We just need a stop on the road."

She made a note in an old-fashioned guest book and turned it to him. If you could just sign there, it will be fifty even. Card or cash?"

"Cash," Dean said, taking the bill from his wallet and handing it to her.

"Thank you," she said, sliding a key over the desk. "That's room two, just next door.

Dean thanked her and went outside to Castiel. "We're in two," he said.

He walked around to the trunk and took out their bags then carried them to the room. He unlocked the door and went in, flipping on the light. The room was fairly anonymous, with dark bedding and drapes and grey linoleum floor. It would be fine for a night.

"You need the bathroom first?" he asked.

"You can go," Castiel said. "I'll wait."

Dean took his wash kit from his bag and carried it into the bathroom. He made quick work of cleaning up and preparing for bed, eager to sleep now that he could. The sooner he slept, the sooner he'd wake and get back on the road.

When he went back into the room, Castiel was sitting on the edge of the bed nearest the window holding a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt in his hands. Dean tucked away the kit in his duffel and sank onto the second bed as Castiel went into the bathroom and clicked the door closed behind him.

It was too late to call and check on Sam. He'd be sleeping, and he'd been okay when Dean had called a few hours ago, so Dean tried to stow his worry and relax as he stretched out on the bed.

He had intended to wait until Castiel was out before crashing, but he fell asleep almost straight away. He stirred when Castiel came out and clicked off the light before getting into the second bed, but he couldn't make himself wake properly to check Castiel was okay.

He slept too deeply to dream and was woken with a jerk when his phone started beeping. His eyes snapped open and he grabbed it up. His heart sank as he saw that it was the alert for Sam's seizure band. He quickly acknowledged it to stop the sound and then sat up and dialed the house number. It was late and Sam could be seizing and unnoticed by Alfie and Elsie. He had to tell them. The phone seemed to ring forever before Elsie answered, sounding wide awake. "Is that you, Dean?"

"Yeah. Sam's having a seizure."

"I know. Alfie is with him now. We heard him fall out of bed," she said quickly. "I can't talk now. I have to help. We will call as soon as it's over."

"Yeah, okay, just take…" He trailed off as the call disconnected. "Shit!"

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked, leaning up on an elbow.

"Sam, my brother, is having a seizure," he said.

"How do you know?"

"He's got this thing he wears. It senses them and tells me when it's happening. My friends are taking care of him now." He turned the phone over in his hand, needing it to ring and tell him it was over.

Castiel sat up. "I need to heal whatever is making him have seizures?" he asked.

"That's definitely part of it. It was the injury he got in the wreck that did it. If you heal that, it should take care of it all."

"All of the physical side of it," Castiel clarified. "We don't know about the rest."

"You'll find a way," Dean said confidently. He had to.

Castiel nodded. "What happened to your brother? You said he had something wrong before the accident, PTSD. What was the trauma?"

"It's a long story," Dean said.

"We have time. I assume you are waiting for a phone call."

Dean sighed, aware of the ludicrousness of explaining the story to Castiel who had been there for every step of it and had even had a part in the worst side of it. He was the one that had betrayed them and set it into motion.

"Sam was trapped with some very bad people for a long time," he said. "Think of the worst place imaginable, and then multiply it by a thousand. Then you might come close. He went through literal Hell. It hurt him so much he would never have been able to cope. There was this person, though, a healer like you, and he fixed it so Sam wouldn't remember what happened to him. It saved him from his hell."

"What happened to change it?"

"We were betrayed," Dean said bitterly. "There was this guy, our friend—he was actually more like family—and he had powers, too. He used them to hurt Sam. He broke down the thing protecting Sam and it ruined him. He managed for a while, he was dealing, and then there was the accident. It just… broke him. He hasn't been the same since, and it just keeps getting worse. And it's all because of Cas. He did this to us." His hands fisted unconsciously.

"You're very angry, aren't you?" Castiel asked, not reacting at all to Dean's use of his name.

"Of course I am," Dean snapped. "He was family and he hurt Sam. He hurt me. I trusted him with my life, with Sam's life, and he chose to do this. It wasn't a mistake. It was a decision he made. We would have done anything for him, but he went and did that. Sam would never be in this mess if it wasn't for him; he wouldn't have been in the wreck at all. That's all down to Cas."

"You hate him," Castiel stated.

"I don't know what I feel about him anymore," Dean said. "A lot of people have let me down in my life, but no one ever did it to purposefully hurt me the way he did. It would have been easier to forgive him if he had done it to me, but not to Sam. And it wasn't just us. He hurt a lot of people doing what he did. I don't know which is worse."

"I think you do."

"Yeah. What he did to us was worse, because he knew he was doing wrong then. The other thing was about him trying to do good. I can't hate him for that part."

"How does Sam feel about him?" Castiel asked.

"I don't know what Sam feels about anything anymore. He's closed off to me because of what happened. Hell, I don't know if he even remembers Cas anymore. He's been losing so much lately. It just keeps getting worse. It's like this thing is chipping away at him, stealing him from me." He took a shaky breath. "I do know that he'd forgive Cas if he was Sam still. He's needed forgiveness in his time, so he finds it easier to dole out than me. I've needed it, too, but it's harder for me to give when trust is broken. Sam's a better man."

"You're not a bad man though."

"You don't know me," Dean said.

"I know enough of the world to see that someone that loves his brother as much as you do cannot be bad. I don't doubt you have darkness in you. I can feel that, I think you can be dangerous, but I feel that you can be very good, too."

Dean shook his head and repeated, "You don't know me."

Castiel started to answer but Dean's phone rang and he snatched it up. "Yeah?"

"It's over," Alfie said. "He is resting now."

"That was a long one. Are you sure he's okay?"

"I am. I did a full check after. He's probably going to bruise from where he hit the floor, but otherwise he's fine. Elsie is with him still, and I am going back to him as soon as I have finished here. We will stay until he is sleeping again."

"I'm leaving now," Dean said. "I'll be with you late morning. Tell Sam I'm coming."

"You should rest. Get a few more hours sleep at least."

"I've slept enough," Dean said. "We're coming." He wouldn't be able to rest now anyway.

"Okay. I will tell Sam. Drive carefully though, Dean. You can't help Sam if you're hurt too."

"I will. See you soon, Alfie." He wanted off the phone so Alfie could go back to Sam and he could get ready to leave.

"Take care, Dean."

Dean ended the call and looked to Castiel. "We're leaving. You can sleep in the car."

"Of course." He stood and took clean clothes from his bag then went into the bathroom.

Dean dragged over his boots and began to pull them on and lace them up. He had slept enough to be safe, and he needed to be with Sam. The sooner they were there, the sooner Castiel could heal him.

Sam needed them.

Dean was eager to get back to Sam, and by the time he reached the turn onto Alfie's street, his heart was racing.

Though he tried to keep himself calm and grounded, the fact this could be it, Sam healed, was at the forefront of his mind. He had brought not just a healer, but Castiel with the power of Heaven behind him. He could do this. And then Sam would be back. Dean would have his brother and the world would have one of its best hunters. They could rejoin the others in fighting the Leviathans, and for once they'd be part of an army against the war instead of just having their small family holding the reins.

Castiel seemed eager, too. He was leaning forward in his seat and his hands were drumming against his knees. Dean wondered if he could sense something from Sam already or if he was just really into his healing thing and anticipating the moment.

When they pulled onto the drive in front of the house, the door opened and Alfie came out.

"I have been watching for you," he said when Dean climbed out and looked at him questioningly.

"Is Sam okay?"

"He's in the yard with Elsie. She is painting outside today."

"But he's okay?"

"He seems fine. He has been calm since the seizure, though he still isn't engaging."

Dean nodded his appreciation and said, "Alfie, this is Emmanuel. Emmanuel, Alfie. He and his wife Elsie are the best people I've ever known. They've been taking care of us."

Alfie looked pleased by the introduction and he gestured them in.

"Pleased to meet you, Alfie," Castiel said, stopping to shake his hand before entering the house.

Dean followed them in and then led Castiel into the sun room. He looked out of the window at where Sam sat under the cherry tree. The blossoms had finally arrived. They spread out above Sam's head like a pale pink cloud. Elsie stood closer to the house, her easel set up in front of her with a stool of paints and mug of brushes beside.

"Take a seat, Emmanuel," he said. "Would you like a coffee?"

"I would like to help your brother first," he said. "I can feel him."

Dean wondered what Sam felt like to him, how his injury and state of mind would present themselves to Castiel's grace. He didn't ask though, unsure if he wanted to know.

"I'll go get him," Dean said. "Alfie, will you come with me?"

Alfie looked confused but followed him out to the backyard. They walked to Elsie who set down her palette and brush and smiled at Dean. "He's here?" she asked.

Dean nodded, his eyes focused on the painting on the easel. It was just vaguely painted in around the tree, soft pink patches, but Sam's face was clear beneath it. She had captured his expression perfectly, the look of sadness and longing he wore. Dean wondered if was Jessica and Bobby he longed for, or was he searching for the part of himself he had lost. The painting was beautiful, the best work from Elsie he had ever seen, but he hated it. Sam's suffering was captured with paint and canvas.

He turned away. "Yeah, I found him. I need to talk to you first though. It's about Castiel. He doesn't know who he is. He said he has amnesia and the dates match to the time we thought he died. He calls himself Emmanuel and he knows he can heal, but that's all. He's even married now. This woman that found him, Daphne, is his wife, and I don't think she knows the truth either."

"Oh my," Elsie said quietly. "Are you going to tell him the truth?"

"No. He hurt Sam before, and I'm worried that if he remembered, he'd leave us to fend for ourselves. Sam needs him, so I have to put aside what he did for now and use him for Sam. We have to act like he's Emmanuel and not let him see the truth."

"We will, absolutely," Elsie said. "But can you? I know how much he hurt you. Can you be calm around him?"

"I can for Sam," he said. "I managed to get this far with him and not snap. I can do it a little longer. When he's fixed Sam… I guess that's something we'll have to decide together. I've got to explain what's going on to Sam. Can you go keep Emmanuel company? Tell him we'll be in soon."

"Of course," Alfie said. He took Elsie's hand and they walked into the house together.

Dean took a calming breath and went to Sam. He didn't look up at Dean, even though Dean saw from his frown that he'd registered his arrival.

"I need to talk to you," Dean said.

Sam looked up at him. "What?"

Dean squatted in front of him and said, "I found a healer."

Sam huffed a laugh. "Of course you did."

Shaking away the question of what Sam was thinking, Dean went on in a rush. "It's Castiel, Sam. He doesn't seem to know who he is though. He calls himself Emmanuel, and he thinks he's human. We have to play along. We can't let him know the truth or he might not help. He could flap off at any minute if he knew. Do you understand?"

"Don't tell Castiel who he is?" Sam asked.

"Exactly. Can you do that?"

"Whatever you need, Dean," he said with a sigh.

This was about what Sam needed, but he didn't point that out. He was just glad Sam was cooperating. "Good," he said. "Come on in. He's going to help you now."

Sam stood and brushed down his clothes. He looked disinterested and didn't react when they got into the sun room and Castiel stood to greet him.

"Hello, Sam," he said. "My name is Emmanuel and I am here to help you."

Sam nodded. "Sure."

"Would you like to take a seat?" Castiel asked.

Sam sat down on the couch and placed his hands flat on his knees. Dean hovered beside him and Alfie and Elsie sat together on the other couch, holding hands tightly. The seemed as nervous as Dean felt.

"This might be uncomfortable," Castiel said. "I am going to search for the places that need to be healed, and that might draw attention to them. It's easier for me if you stay calm."

Sam looked at him expectantly and Castiel reached for him. He placed his hands on either side of Sam's head and closed his eyes. He concentrated for a moment, and then his hands blazed with blue-white light.

Dean heard Alfie suck in a breath and Elsie saying, "My Lord," but his eyes remained fixed on Sam. He looked indifferent at first, numb to what was happening, and then he grimaced with pain. Dean's hands fisted as Sam cried out. After what felt like a long time, Castiel dropped his hands and stepped back.

Dean quickly sat beside Sam and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Sammy?"

"I'm fine," Sam said breathing hard.

It was a Sam response to make, to play down the pain and push through, and Dean was filled with heady relief. Sam was being Sam again. In the hospital he had complained about pain, but now he was working through it. That had to mean Castiel had done it. Sam was back.

He swiped a hand over his wet face and squeezed Sam's shoulder. "You're okay," he said. "Just take a minute."

Sam nodded and rubbed his temples.

"How do you feel?" Castiel asked.

Sam looked at him finally and Dean felt sickened at what he saw. His moment of joy was replaced by devastation. Sam was closed off still. His eyes dead and his expression blank. "I'm fine," he said.

"Sam," Dean said mournfully.

Sam shook his head and stood. With all eyes on him, he walked to the door and went outside. Dean leapt to his feet and watched through the window as he walked across the yard and sat down under the tree again.

It hadn't worked. Sam was still lost.

So… That didn't exactly go to plan. Be honest though, did you expect it to? When are things ever straightforward in one of my stories?

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx