Bobby poured two glasses of whiskey, handing one to Dean. They could still hear Sam's cries carrying up from the panic room. "Stop! Stop!" Dean scrubbed his hand over his face before taking a sip from his glass. "How long is this gonna go on?" he sighed. "Here, let me look it up in my demon-detox manual," Bobby quipped. "Oh, wait. No one ever wrote one. No telling how long it will take. Hell, or if Sam will even live through it." The phone rang, and Bobby sighed before answering it. "Hello… Suck dirt and die, Rufus. You call me again, I'll kill you."

Dean looked over questioningly as Bobby hung up. "What's up with Rufus?" he asked. "He knows," Bobby grumbled. The phone rang again, and the older hunter answered it angrily. "I'm busy, you son of a bitch. This better be important."

Mack stared out at the old, rusted cars in the scrapyard, absentmindedly playing with Skittles' ear. She had come out here so she wouldn't have to listen to her uncle's screams. She had tried calling out to Cas earlier, wanting to just see him again, but she hadn't gotten an answer. "Cas, I'm scared," she whispered. "Bobby and Daddy are so sad, and Uncle Sammy won't stop screaming. We need you… I need you." Just like before, no answer came to her prayer.

"The news. The news ain't good," Bobby informed Dean when he got off the phone with Rufus. There were several articles splayed out on the desk in front of them that Rufus had faxed over. "This is what Rufus called about? 'Key West sees ten species go extinct'," Dean read one of the article titles. "Yep. Plus Alaska. Fifteen-man fishing crew all stricken blind, cause unknown. New York, teacher goes postal, locks the door, kills exactly sixty-six kids. All this in a single day. I looked them up. There's no doubt about it. They're all seals. Breaking. Fast."

Dean shook his head, "How many are left?" Bobby shrugged, looking over at him. "Who knows? Can't be many. Where the hell are your angel pals?" Dean's eyes darkened. He was still mad at Cas for how he'd left after the whole ordeal with Jimmy. "You tell me," he responded bitterly. "I'm just wondering," Bobby mused and Dean met his eyes. "What?"

"The apocalypse being nigh and all… is now really the time to be having this little domestic drama of ours?"

"What do you mean?"

Bobby seemed hesitant, like he was scared to voice what he was about to say next. "Well, I don't like this any more than you do, but Sam can kill demons. He's got a shot at stopping Armageddon." That got a rise out of Dean. "So what? Sacrifice Sam's life, his soul, for the greater good? Is that what you're saying? Times are bad, let's use Sam as a nuclear warhead?"

"Look, I know you hate me for suggesting it. I hate me for suggesting it. I love that boy like a son. All I'm saying is maybe he's here right now instead of out on the battlefield because we love him too much." Bobby waited silently for Dean's response. The younger man stared down at the articles without really seeing them and then straightened up. "I'm gonna go get Mack." He left Bobby, heading outside to find his daughter. She had fallen asleep leaning against the beam on one side of the steps and her rabbit had fallen off her lap.

He scooped her into his arms, making sure to grab Skittles from where she had fallen as well, and carried both the child and rabbit back inside. Ignoring Sam's cries and Bobby's stare, he climbed the stairs, heading into Mack's room. It was the smaller of the two guest rooms in Bobby's house, and had been his old room when he and Sam would stay here as kids. It had been changed to accommodate her back when she was still too little for him to take along on hunts all the time. "Good night, bug," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

There was a tell-tale rustle as Cas appeared in the scrapyard behind Dean. The hunter turned at the sound, glaring at the angel with all his might. "Well, it's about time," he growled. "I've been screaming myself hoarse out here for about two and a half hours now." Castiel's expression remained stoic. "What do you want?"

"You can start with what the hell happened in Illinois," Dean hissed. "What do you mean?" Cas asked innocently. "Cut the crap. You were gonna tell me something." The angel barely reacted. "Well, nothing of import." Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. Anger flared up inside of him even more and he took a step closer to Castiel. "You got ass-reamed in Heaven but it was 'nothing of import'?" He hated himself for having worried over Cas all that time; agonized over whether or not he was okay, only for the angel in question to act coldly toward him again.

"Dean, I can't. I'm sorry. Get to the reason why you called me. It's about Sam, right?" Ah, yes. The all important dilemma. "Can he do it?" Dean asked, locking eyes with Cas. "Kill Lilith, stop the apocalypse?" He dreaded the answer even as Cas opened his mouth. "Possibly, yes. But as you know, he'd have to take certain steps."

"Crank up the Hell-blood regimen." He hated himself for even voicing it. How had things stooped to this level? How had Sam gotten so low that he would willingly drink freakin' demon blood just to use some stupid psychic powers? It was almost enough to make him want to take Mack and run. Start a new life where he could raise her safely without having to deal with an impending apocalypse and demons and angels and all the other crap.

"Consuming the amount of blood it would take to kill Lilith would change your brother forever. Most likely, he would become the next creature that you would feel compelled to kill. There's no reason this would have to come to pass, Dean. We believe it's you, Dean, not your brother. The only question for us is whether you're willing to accept it. Stand up and accept your role. You are the one who will stop it."

"If I do this, Sammy doesn't have to," Dean asked, swallowing hard. "If it comforts you to see it that way," Castiel responded impassively. "God, you're a dick these days." Dean turned away, scrubbing a hand over his mouth and taking a deep breath. He had actually been considering finally thanking Cas for everything he had done for Mack, bringing her back out of her shell and getting her to talk again. But now, faced with the angel who had reverted to his almost robotic nature from back when he first laid eyes on him, he didn't think he could do it. "Fine, I'm in."

"You give yourself wholly to the service of God and his angels?" Cas asked him. "Yeah, exactly," he nodded, facing the angel again. "Say it," Castiel commanded him. He paused for a moment, and then complied. "I give myself over wholly to serve God and you guys."

"You swear to follow his will and his word as swiftly as you did your own father's?" The mention of John made Dean clench his jaw. "Yes, I swear," he agreed evenly. "Now what?"

"Now you wait, and we call on you when it's time." They stared silently at each other, green eyes locked on blue. Cas broke the elongated silence first. "How is Mckinley?" Dean blinked, taking an involuntary step back. "She… She's fine, not that it matters to you." For a moment, it almost looked like Cas was hurt by his words. "Of course it matters to me, Dean. I'm her guardian angel."

"Whatever, man. You should go. Wouldn't want to get you in trouble again." Cas's expression remained hurt for all of three more seconds, and then he reigned himself back in as he processed Dean's words. Without another word, he vanished from the scrapyard.

"Bobby! Dean! Help! Hey! Hey! Guys! Guys! Help! Dean!" Sam's shouts were ignored per usual as Bobby glared at Dean. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you willingly signed up to be the angels' bitch?" Dean glared right back, not saying anything. "I'm sorry. You prefer 'sucker'? After everything you said about them, now you trust them?" Dean scoffed, "Come on, give me a little credit, Bobby. I've never trusted them less. I mean, they come on like shady politicians from planet Vulcan."

"Then why in the hell did you-"

"Because what other option do I have? It's either trust the angels or let Sammy trust a demon?" Bobby scowled. "I see your point," he conceded. Dean straightened, realizing something. "You hear that?" he asked. "Yeah, that's a little too much nothing." They hurried down the stairs, opening the window to the panic room door. Sam was on the floor of the panic room, having a seizure.

"What if he's faking?" Dean asked. "You think he would?" Bobby looked at him. "I think he'd do anything." As soon as the words left his mouth, Sam slammed against the wall by an invisible force. "That ain't faking," Bobby said. Throwing the door open, they charged in to get Sam and pin him to the cot. "We're gonna have to tie him down for his own safety. Dean? You with me? Dean! Before he has another fit."

Dean nodded, expression grim. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just get it over with." After getting his brother chained down, he and Bobby headed back upstairs. "I'm gonna ask one more time," Bobby said. "Are we absolutely sure we're doing the right thing?" Dean lifted his gaze from the floor. "Bobby, you saw what was happening to him down there. The demon blood is killing him."

"No, it isn't. We are." Dean's eyes widened in shock. "What?" he asked Bobby in disbelief. "I'm sorry. I can't bite my tongue any longer. We're killing him. Keeping him locked up down there. This cold-turkey thing ain't workin'. If- If he doesn't get what he needs, soon, Sam's not gonna last much longer." Dean rejected the idea immediately. "No. I'm not giving him demon blood. I won't do it."

"And if he dies?"

"Then at least he dies human!" he shouted. "I would die for him in a second, but I won't let him do this to himself. I can't. I guess I found my line. I won't let my brother turn into a monster!"

Sam had somehow gotten out of the panic room and escaped in one of the old cars in the scrapyard. "How the hell did he get out?" Dean asked as they opened the locked door. "Maybe he had help. Room full of busted devil's traps." Dean frowned, "Demons? Ruby."

"That'd be my guess."

"How did she even touch the door?" Dean asked. Bobby shrugged, "You think she's got the mojo?" He shook his head. "I don't think so. I don't know, man." The older man frowned. "What difference does it make? How he got gone ain't as important as where he got gone to." He had a point and Dean set his jaw. "Well, I'll tell you one thing. At this point I hope he's with Ruby."

"Why?"

"'Cause killing her's the next big thing on my to do list," Dean growled. "I thought you were on call for angel duty," Bobby pointed out. "I am on call. In my car, on the way to murder the bitch. Keep an eye on Mack while I'm gone." Dean headed out the door, but was stopped by Bobby one more time. "One thing."

"What?"

"Sam don't want to be found, which means he's gonna be damn near impossible to find."

"Yeah, we'll see."

The next morning, Bobby overheard on the police scanners that his car was found in Jamestown, where two cars were stolen. A 1999 Honda Civic in blue that was exactly the kind of car Sam liked and a white '05 Escalade with custom rims that was a neon sign. Dean figured Sam took the Escalade. So, he headed in the direction of Jamestown while Bobby stayed behind with Mack to ride the police databases. Bobby called him on the road that night.

"Cops found the Escalade in a ditch outside Elk River," he informed him. "How far away am I?" Dean asked. "A couple hours. I pulled up a weather map, made some calls. There's a town not far from there, Cold Spring. Lighting up with demon signs."

"A good place to look," Dean mused, white knuckling the wheel with the hand not holding his phone. "Hey, listen," Bobby said. "What?" he asked. "Us finding Sam? It's gotta be about getting him back, not pushing him away."

"Right."

"I know you're mad, Dean. I understand. You got a right to be, but I'm just saying. Be good to him anyway. You gotta get through to him." Dean hung up, jaw set and glaring out the windshield at the road in front of him. About three hours later, he pulled into the only motel in town, hiding out until he saw Sam exit the honeymoon suite. Then, he went in, finding Ruby still inside. The pair fought, Sam coming in in the middle of it and defending the demoness.

"No. Let her go," Sam shoved Dean away. "Just take it easy." Dean glared at his brother and his Hell-bitch. "Wow, it must've been some party you two had going, considering how hard you tried to keep me from crashing it. Well, solid try, but here I am." Sam had the audacity to look relieved. "Dean, I'm glad you're here. Look. Let's just talk about this."

"Soon as she's dead, we can talk all you want," Dean growled. Sam addressed the demoness while keeping his eyes on Dean. "Ruby, get out of here." Dean protested, "No, she's not going anywhere." Sam blocked his way while Ruby made her escape, watching her go. "She's poison, Sam." Sam turned back, looking at him sadly. "It's not what you think, Dean."

"Look what she did to you. I mean, she up and vanishes for weeks at a time, leaves you cracking for another hit-"

"She was looking for Lilith," Sam cut him off defensively. "That is French for manipulating your ass ten ways from Sunday," Dean huffed. "You're wrong, Dean." He shook his head, letting his anger get the best of him in the moment, despite what Bobby told him. "Sam, you're lying to yourself. I just want you to be okay. You would do the same for me. You know you would."

"Just listen," Sam pleaded with him. He raised his hand, then realized he was still holding Ruby's demon blade and threw it down on the bed. "Just listen for a second. We got a lead on a demon close to Lilith. Come with us, Dean. We'll do this together." Dean wet his lips. "That sounds great. As long as it's you and me. Demon bitch is a deal breaker. You kiss her goodbye, we can go right now." Sam shook his head, "I can't." Dean nodded, turning away.

"Dean, I need her to help me kill Lilith. I know you can't wrap your head around it, but maybe one day you'll understand. I'm the only one that can do this, Dean." Face a mask of determination, Dean turned back to face his brother. "No, you're not the one who's gonna do this," he said. "Right, that's right, I forgot," Sam scoffed. "The angels think it's you." A muscle twitched in Dean's jaw. "You don't think I can?" he accused. "No," Sam shot back. "You can't. You're not strong enough."

"And who the hell are you?" he spat. "I'm being practical here. I'm doing what needs to be done." Sam was also getting riled up as Dean continued. "Yeah? You're not gonna do a single damn thing."

"Stop bossing me around, Dean," Sam growled. "My whole life, you take the wheel, you call the shots, and I trust you because you're my brother. Now I'm asking you, for once, trust me." Dean shook his head, "No. You don't know what you're doing, Sam."

"Yes, I do!"

"Then that's worse!"

"Why? Look I'm telling you-" Dean cut him off, "Because it's not something that you're doing, it's what you are! It means-" He cut himself off, realizing what he'd been about to say. "What?" Sam hissed, tears in his eyes. "No, say it."

"It means you're a monster." Sam nodded, looking down and missing the tear that slipped down Dean's cheek. Then the younger Winchester rounded on his older brother, punching hard enough to take him down. Dean got back up, and suddenly they were both throwing punches at each other, Sam dominating as the room was left in disarray. Anything breakable in their path didn't stand a chance. Dean finally hit the floor and couldn't get up. Sam got on top of him, his hands around his throat in a choke hold, and then he let go.

"You don't know me," he hissed, standing. "You never did. And you never will." He started heading toward the door and Dean lifted his head off the ground, using a phrase he knew would hurt Sam the most. "You walk out that door, don't you ever come back!" Sam stopped, looking back with tears in his eyes, and then he walked out.

Mack sat on the couch looking at her dad who was staring out the window of Bobby's study with a brooding expression. Bobby was standing behind him. "Dean? Dean! You listen to a word I said?" Dean didn't move, answering in a monotone. "Yeah, I heard you. I'm not calling him." Despite what Bobby had told him about not pushing Sam away, he had done exactly that, using the most painful method he knew how: using the same words John Winchester used when Sam had announced he was going off to Stanford. "Don't make me get my gun, boy," Bobby threatened.

Dean turned to face him, expression a mask of calm despite the war going on under the surface. "We are damn near kickoff to Armageddon, don't you think we have bigger fish at the moment?" Bobby glared back at him with thinly veiled frustration. "I know you're pissed. And I'm not making apologies for what he's done, but he's your-"

"Blood?" Dean cut him off. "He's my blood, is that what you were gonna say?"

"He's your brother. And he's drowning." Mack was watching the entire exchange with wide eyes, Skittles clutched tightly in her arms. She had never seen Bobby and her dad fight like this, ever. "Bobby, I tried to help him, I did. Look what happened," Dean said. "So try again," Bobby growled. "It's too late," her father shook his head. "There's no such thing."

"No, damnit!" her dad yelled, making her jump. "No. I gotta face the facts. Sam never wanted to be a part of this family. He hated this life growing up. Ran away to Stanford first chance he got. Now it's like déjà vu all over again." He sat down on the couch next to Mack. "Well, I'm sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him, he can do what he wants."

"You don't mean that," Bobby said gently, staring in shock. "Yes I do, Bobby. Sam's gone. He's gone. I'm not even sure if he's my brother anymore. If he ever was." The words hung in the air for a moment, and Bobby turned around, leaning against his desk fuming. Then he made an angry swipe with his hands, sending books and papers tumbling to the ground. He advanced on Dean, who stood up, blocking Mack instinctively.

"You stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Well, boo hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?! Bake you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!"

"I told him, 'you walk out that door, don't come back' and he walked out anyway! That was his choice!"

"You sound like a whiny brat," Bobby spat. "No, you sound like your dad. Well, let me tell you something. Your dad was a coward." Dean blinked in surprise. "My dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?" he asked. "He'd rather push Sam away than reach out to him," Bobby said. "Well, that don't strike me as brave. You are a better man than your daddy ever was. So you do us both a favor. Don't be him."

Bobby let him go, stepping away, and he turned back to look out the window. Mack had stood from the couch, and moved a little closer to him hesitantly, reaching out and grabbing his hand. He looked down at his daughter, expression softening, and then turned to say something else to Bobby. However, instead, he looked around in confusion. He and Mack were suddenly standing in a large, lavishly appointed room. The walls were painted white with gold accents, and a marble table stood in the center. Castiel was standing in the exact same spot Bobby had been moments earlier.

"Hello, Dean. It's almost time."