Dean the tears fall as he accepted it.

"Okay," Dean interrupted, blinking as fast as he could so he could still see his little brother, "okay. That's okay too, Sammy," he said, breath hitching at his own quiet sobs.

Sam opened his eye and Dean nodded to him.

"Cas and I... we knew what we were going into, doing this," Dean explained between gasps of his own. "Sam, I'm not gonna leave you," Dean promised, lips trembling and tears breaking over onto Sam's face.

Dean pushed himself up and brought his brother with him, cradling him in his lap. Sam writhed in his grip but Dean felt him hesitantly accepting the motion.

"We're not going to leave you here. Ever. You're not alone anymore, Sammy. I've got you," Dean murmured over and over again as he started to rock him like he used to when he was four and needed the comfort over the loss of their mother just as much as - even maybe more than - the baby.

"Go to sleep, Sam," Dean said, pushing Sam's face against the crook of his neck. "Take the moment," he whispered, looking down at his brother's naked, torn, bloody body, "and just enjoy it, okay?" he croaked, and pushed a kiss onto the top of Sam's head, bloodying his lips and mouth, tasting copper and giving in to his own fate once and for all.

Dean! Cas shouted, panicked.

Dean didn't respond, just pushed his little brother more closely up against him and held tight. He closed his eyes and prayed.

Dean, Castiel's voice came again, this time low; understanding.

There was a pause and Dean felt Sam reach up and close a hand over his shoulder. Dean unconsciously propped him up higher to help.

Dean, Castiel said again and Dean could tell Cas knew their defeat. Dean had failed.

Sam pushed himself up closer against Dean's chest.

It has been an honor, Cas whispered.

Sam trembled and scrabbled closer to Dean. Dean pressed his palm against the back of his little brother's head protectively.

"You too, Cas," Dean whispered back. He closed his eyes and tucked his face against Sam.

He felt Sam lurch with a sob under him as the kid kept reaching for purchase even though they were already entwined.

"If this," Sam hissed into Dean's ear, "n't real...pl's," Sam begged.

"Sammy, it's okay. It's okay, just relax," Dean shushed, pushing his fingers up and down the back of Sam's neck comfortingly, another nostalgic gesture he used on Sam when they'd been young. "I've got you. I'm not letting go-"

"Don'... hur'... m'brother," Sam whispered desperately before his breath hitched and he solemnly gasped out one last final word. Everything seemed to fall away as Sam uttered the word, "yes."

Suddenly the brothers were sucked up and swallowed through the air by an incredible magnetic force of power. By instinct, Dean latched onto Sam as hard as he could the minute he sensed what was happening, Sam following Dean's grip not a split-second later.

They bounced weightlessly in pitch black space until Dean felt an arm wrap around his back. Flashing blue grace shot out of nowhere around them and Dean spotted Castiel's other arm slide around Sam. Cas pressed them together, chest to chest, impossibly tight, before Dean felt the pressure of acceleration intensifying.

They were really getting out.

"Cas!" he tried to scream - this time with pure joy - but couldn't. He let it go as Cas drove them out of there. Fuck the g-force. Dean wouldn't mind passing out now. Sam's head was tucked in against Dean's neck, his arms clasped around his torso and against his back. Dean noticed he wasn't graying out or tunnel-visioning though and he wondered if Cas was doing that in deference to Sam's current state or if Cas was damaged from whatever he'd had to do to protect them from Lucifer to go slower this time.

It occurred to him they were in pure darkness, with only the slightest blue hue over them, almost like...

Thick feathers swept softly and molded over their skin, tightening and tightening against all three of them. Dean felt Castiel's head duck down against his neck. He heard whistling in the dark and realized it was them. Castiel had turned into a fucking missile in a Hail Mary race to get out before Lucifer caught them to pulled them back.

"Say it again!" Dean yelled into Sam's ear. Sam clutched Dean harder. "Sammy, say yes!" Dean growled.

"Yes!" Sam cried, and the missile that was Castiel's true form shot faster.

Gray-out.

Tunnel-vision.

Dean couldn't feel more relieved to feel this much pain.

Screeching searing sounds of hot metal and then they were out, hitting the sludge of Limbo's muddy ground and sliding through gunky, wet soil for what felt like miles against the ground before coming to a miserable halt. Cas was on his back, holding the brothers together against his chest, all three of them breathless and shaking with exertion as they clutched each other.

The storm of Limbo above crashed over them, the sight and sound the most counterintuitively comforting thing Dean had ever heard.

Cas shifted and Dean tilted off the angel's body, Sam in tow. Cas stood up on wobbly legs and collapsed back down on his knees next to Sam. He panted, wrecked, as he reached out and placed a glowing blue palm against his brother's mangled back. Dean blinked and the injuries and blood were gone. Dean still held him tight, watching as Cas pulled his trench coat off and wrapped it around Sam. He glanced at Dean and nodded, just the barest hint of a smile twitching his lips, before getting up to scan their environment.

Dean took a second to breathe as he clutched his brother, disbelief and victory warring for territory in him. Sam shivered and shifted against him. Dean huffed and gripped Castiel's trench coat.

"Sam?" he whispered, pulling his limp brother up so he could look into his eyes. Sam's pupils were blown wide and black, his breath coming out in emphatic gasps. "Sammy, you in there?" Dean prompted, shifting himself to kneel and hold Sam up to get him dressed. He needed Sam conscious, or at least semiconscious, unless he was cool rolling Sam in the black mud of Limbo to get the damn trench on him.

"Sammy, c'mon," Dean pressed, and Sam blinked. "Atta boy, you got it, look at me," Dean coached. Slowly, Sam's eyes turned to his brother. "Good job, good, Sammy, you're out. I got you. We're not done yet, though," he added, guilt and empathy mingling as he kept pushing and propping Sam up until the kid would set his spine. "Can you stay still? We're not done..."

Nothing seemed to be working. Dean had to change tacks.

"Sam, I need you alert, now," Dean said harshly, trying to sound like their father.

Sam blinked, shivering - hey, that was something. His eyes were unfocused but he seemed to be getting the message. He started swaying upright.

"Yes! Yeah, stay like that, Sammy," Dean insisted, flipping right back to his normal tone. Sam held his body up precariously when Dean pulled away. "Good job, good," Dean rasped with emotion as he swept the trench coat over Sam's back, threading an arm into the sleeve. "Just like when you were five, right?" Dean laughed through tears, getting one arm in and turning to the other. "No problem. This is good," he said, adeptly inserting the other arm into the sleeve. Tears fell but Dean was immune to them by now, not even caring. "Good job, Sammy," he murmured, buttoning the trench all the way down. When he was done he pulled Sam back into an embrace, rocking his limp body gently until Cas came back.

"I can carry him until we reach the doors of Limbo," Cas said quickly, out of breath, eyes wide and desperate.

"How about not," a voice announced over them - over the entire realm of Limbo. Dean and Cas jumped turning in its direction.

"Moose isn't looking too good," Crowley said seriously, head tilted, as he stepped forward, out of the shadows from behind the gallows.