Dean lowered his arm, the bright light having vanished. He and Sam were sitting on a plane, contorted exactly how they had been cowering on the floor of the sanctuary in the convent. "What the hell?" he asked, looking around. "I don't know," Sam shrugged. The pilot's voice sounded over the intercom, "Folks, quick word from our flight deck. We're just passing over Ilchester, then Ellicott City, on our initial descent into Baltimore-"

"Ilchester? Weren't we just there?" Dean asked Sam in confusion.

"-So if you'd like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time to-" Outside the window, a bright beam of light suddenly was seen shooting into the sky. "Holy crap!" the pilot shouted. Shock waves knocked the plane off kilter. People were thrown around the plane, screaming and oxygen masks dropped down. Sam and Dean put theirs on as the white light outside grew blinding. Dean looked out the window, terror written all over his features.

Once they were safely back on the ground, the Winchesters rented a car to drive back to Chuck's house. The radio was playing some news station. "-and Governor O'Malley urged calm saying it's very unlikely an abandoned convent would be a target for terrorists, either foreign or homegrown." Dean glowered. "Change the station." Sam complied. "-Hurricane Kinley, unexpectedly slamming the Galveston area-" He pressed the button again. "-announced a successful test of the North Korean nuclear- '' Again. "-a series of tremors-" Again. "-swine flu-'' Sam turned the radio off completely. The car fell into silence and he sighed. "Dean, look-"

"Don't say anything," Dean cut him off with a growl. There was a pause, then the elder Winchester continued. "It's okay. We just got to keep our heads down and hash this out, alright?" There was another pause, and then Sam replied. "Yeah, okay," he muttered softly. Dean glanced at him sidelong. "Alright, well, first things first- How did we end up on Soul Plane?"

"Angels, maybe? I mean, you know, beaming us out of harm's way?"

"Well, whatever. It's the least of our worries. We need to find Cas and Mack."

The brothers walked through the devastated remains of Chuck's house. They heard a noise behind them, but saw nothing when they turned, so they continued on. As they kept looking, Chuck suddenly jumped out and hit Sam on the head with his weapon of choice- a toilet plunger. Sam stumbled back, holding a hand to his head. "Geez! Ow!" he cried out. "Sam," Chuck's eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah!" Sam nodded. "Hey, Chuck," Dean greeted him. "So... you're okay?" The prophet was still staring at Sam.

"Well, my head hurts," Sam replied. "No, I mean- I mean, my- my last vision. You went, like, full-on Vader. Your body temperature was one-fifty. Your heart rate was two hundred. Your eyes were black." That caught Dean's attention. "Your eyes went black?" he looked back at Sam. "I didn't know," Sam shrugged helplessly. "Where are Cas and Mack?" Dean asked Chuck.

"Mack's back there somewhere," Chuck gestured vaguely down the hall. "Cas... He's dead. Or gone. The archangel smote the crap out of him. I'm sorry." The news devastated Dean. "You're sure? I mean, maybe he just vanished into the light or something?" Chuck shook his head. "Oh no. He, like, exploded. Like a water balloon of chunky soup... I don't think Mack took it too well..." At the mention of his daughter again, Dean started making his way back in the direction Chuck had indicated she'd be. "Mack? Hey, bug, you there?" Mack came running out of one of the far rooms at the sound of his voice, barreling into his arms.

"H-he's g-gone," she sobbed, clinging tightly to him. "C-Cas is... is..." Dean shushed her gently, hugging her close. He crouched down, cupping her face with his hands and rubbing away tears and grime with his thumbs while she gripped his arms. "I know... I'm sorry, bug." While he comforted her, Sam had indicated to Chuck that he had something stuck in his hair. The author pulled it out, staring at it. "Is that a molar?" he asked, mostly to himself. "It is. Do I have a molar in my hair? This has been a really stressful day."

"Cas, you stupid bastard," Dean muttered, still comforting Mack as he looked around at the desecrated room. "Stupid?" Sam echoed. "He was trying to help us." Dean nodded, "Yeah, exactly." He hugged his daughter closer to his body; she still hadn't stopped sobbing uncontrollably. "So, what now?" his brother asked. "I don't know," he shook his head. "Oh crap," Chuck breathed, seated in an armchair with his back to the brothers. "What?" Sam looked over. "I can feel them."

"Thought we'd find you here," Zachariah said. The Winchesters turned to find him standing there flanked by two other angels. "Playtime's over, Dean. Time to come with us." Dean pointed at the angel, shielding Mack behind him, "You just keep your distance, asshat." Zachariah raised his eyebrows. "You're upset," he stated. "Yeah. A little. You sons of bitches jump-started judgment day!"

"Maybe we let it happen. We didn't start anything. Right, Sammy?"

The angel winked at the taller Winchester brother, who just glowered back. "You had a chance to stop your brother, and you couldn't. So let's not quibble over who started what. Let's just say it was all our faults and move on. 'Cause like it or not, it's Apocalypse Now. And we're back on the same team again."

"Is that so?" Dean growled. "You want to kill the devil. We want to kill the devil. It's... synergy." Unnoticed by the angel, Dean had cut the palm of the hand he had out of view and had started drawing the same banishing sigil Cas had made in the Green Room on the back of the nearest door. "And I'm just supposed to trust you? Cram it with walnuts, ugly," he hissed. "This isn't a game, son," the angel said. "Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard and fast- before he finds his vessel."

"His vessel?" Sam echoed. "Lucifer needs a meat suit?" Zachariah nodded, "He is an angel. Them's the rules. And when he touches down, we're talking Four Horsemen, red oceans, fiery skies- the greatest hits. You can stop him, Dean, but you need our help." Dean had finished the sigil, but held off on using it quite yet. "You listen to me, you two-faced douche. After what you did, I don't want jack squat from you!" Zachariah took a step toward him furiously. "You listen to me, boy! You think you can rebel against us? As Lucifer did?" That was when he noticed Dean's hand dripping with blood. "You're bleeding."

"Oh, yeah- a little insurance policy in case you dicks showed up," Dean growled, slapping his hand against the banishing sigil. "No!" Zachariah yelled as he and the other two angels disappeared in a flash of light. Both Chuck and Sam flinched. "Learned that from my friend Cas, you son of a bitch," Dean addressed the spot where the angels just were. "This sucks ass," Chuck sighed.

"No! Cas! No! Come back! Cas!"

"Mack! Mckinley, wake up!"

Hazel-green eyes snapped open, meeting identical ones staring back at them. It had been several hours and the Winchesters had booked a motel room a few towns over from Chuck's house. Mack had finally managed to sob herself to sleep, but had almost immediately started having nightmares and shouting in her sleep. Her father pulled her into his lap, rocking her gently in his arms while he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. "I m-miss him," she cried, hiccupping in the middle. "Shh. I know, bug. I do, too."

It was true, strangely. Dean really hadn't known Castiel for very long in the grand scheme of things, but he felt the angel's absence tangibly. He'd been secretly hoping that Cas would overpower the archangel somehow and it would end just fine. Of course that hadn't been the case. He, too, felt like he just wanted to curl into a ball and sob. So many things were wrong at the moment. Cas was dead, Sam had broken the last seal and released Lucifer into the world, and Zachariah was hounding him to 'play his role,' whatever that meant. Sam glanced over at them from the table where he was reading through John's journal.

A knock sounded at the door and Dean looked over at Sam, expecting him to get it. Sam stood, walking over and opening the door. On the other side stood a blonde woman in a dark coat over a checked shirt having trouble breathing. "You okay, lady?" Sam asked her. "Sam..." she gasped, "is it really you?" Sam glanced back at Dean, who was watching the exchange while still holding Mack in his lap. The woman stepped forward, putting her hand on Sam's chest. "And you're so firm." Sam blinked, completely weirded out. "Uh, do I know you?"

The woman pulled back, Sam staring at her with a bewildered expression. "No. But I know you. You're Sam Winchester. And you're-" she looked past him at Dean, pausing, "-not what I pictured. I'm Becky." Becky pushed past Sam into the room and Dean pulled Mack self-consciously closer to himself. "I read all about you guys. I've even written a few," she glanced down, giggling a little. "Anyway, Mr. Edlund told me where you were."

"Chuck?" Dean asked as Sam closed the door. "He's got a message, but he's being watched. Angels," Becky looked up at the ceiling. "Nice change-up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old." Sam moved further into the room, then stopped when he realized it was probably a bad idea for him to get close to Becky. "Right. Just, um... what's the message?" he asked her. "He had a vision. 'The Michael sword is on earth. The angels lost it'."

"The Michael sword?" Dean echoed. "Becky, does he know where it is?" Sam pressed. "In a castle, on a hill made of forty-two dogs," Becky answered, eyes closed and voice dream-like as she recounted the message. "Forty-two dogs?" Dean repeated, confused. "Are... are you sure you got that right?" Sam asked. "It doesn't make sense, but that's what he said," Becky took a step closer to Sam. "I memorized every word." She touched his chest again. "For you." Sam glanced over at his brother and back down at Becky. "Um, Becky, c- uh, can you... quit touching me?"

"No," she said, eyes closed as she kept her hand against his chest.

Later that afternoon, Bobby showed up with the Impala and a ton of lore books. "Hey, Bobby," Dean greeted him when he opened the door. "Good to see you boys and Mack in one piece," Bobby replied. He embraced Dean, then did the same with Sam and Mack. "You weren't followed, were you?" Dean asked, closing the door. "You mean angels, demons, or Sam's new superfan?" the old man joked. Sam grimaced, laughing a little, "You heard." Bobby looked at him, smirking. "I heard, Romeo. So... sword of Michael, huh?"

"You think we're talking about the actual sword from the actual archangel?" Dean queried. "You better friggin' hope so." Bobby opened one of the many books he brought with him to a painting of Michael surrounded by other angels. In it, Michael was depicted as a winged woman while all the other angels looked like naked babies with wings. "That's Michael. Toughest son of a bitch they got." Dean scoffed as Sam flipped to another picture of Michael with a feminine face. "You kidding me? Tough? That guy looks like Cate Blanchett."

"Well, I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley, believe me. He commands the Heavenly Host. During the last big dust-up upstairs, he's the one who booted Lucifer's ass to the basement. Did it with that sword," Bobby tapped the sword in Michael's hand with his finger. "So if we can find it..."

"We can kick the devil's ass all over again," Sam finished. "Alright. So, where do we start?" Bobby gestured to the giant stack of books he brought. "Divvy up and start reading- try and make sense of Chuck's nonsense." Sam was silent as he stared at the books, not reaching for them. "Kid? You alright?" Sam turned back to face Bobby. "No, actually. Bobby, this is all my fault. I'm sorry." Dean glared over at his brother, "Sam..." He didn't listen, pressing on. "Lilith didn't break the final seal. Lilith was the final seal."

"Sam, stop it."

"I killed her, and I set Lucifer free." Bobby gaped at Sam. "You what?" he breathed. "You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood, but I didn't listen. I brought this on." Dean didn't say anything else, since Sam had just ignored him and told Bobby anyway. Bobby stood up, walking closer to Sam. "You're damn right you didn't listen. You were reckless and selfish and arrogant." Dean thought the words were a bit harsh coming from Bobby, but didn't say anything because it was all true. "I'm sorry," Sam whispered. "Oh, yeah? You're sorry you started Armageddon? This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy. If, by some miracle, we pull this off... I want you to lose my number. You understand me?"

That surprised Dean; Bobby would never say anything like that to Sam. To either of them. No matter what they did, no matter what happened, Bobby loved them both like his own sons. However, he still couldn't bring himself to say anything, because if things were different and Sam wasn't his brother, he'd want Sam to lose his number, too. Sam nodded at Bobby, expression barely changing. "There's an old church nearby," he mumbled. "Maybe I'll go read some of the lore books there."

"Yeah. You do that."

Sam left without another word. Bobby headed back over to the table, sitting across from Dean to start in on research. For a while, there was complete silence in the room, only broken by the gentle rustle of pages being turned, the scratch of their pens as they took notes, and the occasional whimper from Mack in her sleep. She didn't have Skittles, having dropped it back at Chuck's before the archangel showed up. The rabbit had been ruined along with the rest of Chuck's living room. Dean glanced over at her a couple times, heart breaking each time. She kept reaching out and clenching the sheet next to her, as if hoping one of the times she reached out, the rabbit would magically be there beside her again.

"I never would have guessed your daddy was right," Bobby broke the silence at last. "About what?" Dean asked without looking over. "About your brother." That got Dean to look up. "What John said- you save Sam or kill him," Bobby elaborated. "Maybe..." he trailed off. "Maybe what?" Dean asked, eyes narrowing. "Maybe we shouldn't have tried so hard to save him."

Again, Dean was struck by just how un-Bobby-like the comment was. This time, he had no problem speaking up. "Bobby." The old man shrugged, continuing. "He ended the world, Dean. And you and I weren't strong enough to stop him proper. That's on us. I'm just saying, your dad was right."

"Dad."

Standing up, Dean rummaged through his bag. He finally found what he was looking for, pulling out a Ziplock full of cards. He began going through them. "It's got to be in here somewhere." Bobby looked on curiously. "What the hell are you talking about?" Dean finally reached the one he wanted, "Here." He pulled it out, reading it to himself. Bobby stood up, Dean walking back over to him. "I don't believe it," he shook his head. "What the hell is it?" Bobby pressed, still confused. "It's a card for my dad's lockup in upstate New York. Read it." Bobby took the card from him. "Castle Storage. 42 Rover Hill."

"Castle on a hill of forty-two dogs," Dean repeated Chuck's message, taking the card back. "So, you think your dad had the Michael sword all this time?" Bobby asked in disbelief. "I don't know. I'm not sure what else Chuck could have meant."

"Yeah. Okay. It's good enough for me." Before Dean could register what was happening, Bobby had attacked him, knocking him through the barrier between the kitchenette and the beds. The sudden crash woke Mack, who stared in wide-eyed horror as her grandfather-figure slammed her father against the wall. Bobby's eyes turned black as he held Dean there, feet dangling barely off the ground. "Daddy!" Mack cried. Bobby's black eyes turned on her and she whimpered, shrinking back against the headboard. Two additional demons- one female, one male, entered the room.

"I always knew you were a big, dumb, slow, dim pain in the ass, Dean. But I never dreamed you were so V.I.P.," the female purred. She spotted Ruby's knife on the table and picked it up. "I mean, you're gonna ice the devil? You? If I'd known that, I would have ripped your pretty, pretty face off years ago."

"Ruby."

"Try again. Go back further."

"Meg?" Dean asked in surprise. She smiled at him, "Hi. These are the days of miracle and wonder, Dean. Our father's among us. You know we're all dreaming again for the first time since we were human? It's Heaven on Earth. Or Hell. We really owe your brother a fruit basket."

"My God, you like the sound of your own voice," Dean quipped. "But you, on the other hand," she pointed at him with the tip of the knife, "you're the only bump in the road. So every demon- every single one- is just dying for a piece of you." Dean smirked, "Get in line." Meg smiled back at him. "Oh, I'm in the front of the line, baby. Let's ride."

She grabbed his face, forcing her lips on his. Mack made a little sound, drawing the demoness' attention. She looked over, spotting Mack cowering on the bed. "Oh, hello," she sneered. "Looks like little baby Winchester grew up."

"Don't," Dean growled, struggling against Bobby's grip. Meg ignored him, walking closer to Mack. "The last time I saw you, you were a tiny little thing." Mack scrambled back off the bed, trying to put as much distance between her and Meg as possible. "Meg, don't!" Dean yelled again. She looked back at him, suddenly getting an idea. "You know, you're surrogate daddy's still awake screaming in there," she indicated to Bobby. "And I want him to know how it feels slicing the life out of you."

"No!" Mack cried as Meg handed Ruby's knife to Bobby. While Dean struggled, fighting against the demon possessing Bobby, Meg refocused back on Mack. "And now for you..." Mack whimpered, looking like a caged animal backed into the corner of the room as the male demon and Meg both advanced on her. Suddenly, Dean tackled the male demon, getting him away from his daughter. Meg looked over in surprise; Bobby had somehow taken control and stabbed himself instead of Dean. Sam entered the room then, spotting Bobby bleeding out and Dean getting beaten up by the male demon.

"Hey, Sammy," Meg greeted him, momentarily distracted from Mack once more. "You miss me? 'Cause I sure missed you."

"Meg?"

She grinned, and he took a swing at her, but missed. She kicked him in the crotch, knocking him to the ground while Dean continued to get pummeled by the other demon. "Not so easy without those super-special demon powers, huh, Sammy?" Meg taunted. Using the distraction, Mack crept around to where Bobby was laying and pulled the knife out of his stomach. She came up behind the male demon beating up Dean and managed to stab him with the blade. She stumbled back, letting go of the knife as the demon convulsed with gold light before falling to the ground, dead.

Dean grabbed the knife while Mack was staring in shock at what she'd just done, standing up. Meg backed away from him as he advanced, and then she smoked out of the host body she was occupying and Dean lowered the knife.

"Stay here, bug," Dean ordered. He and Sam helped Bobby to the door of the Emergency Room of the hospital they'd just arrived at, leaving her behind. Mack stared down at her hands, which were still shaking.

She'd killed a demon. She'd never killed a monster in her life. Her father had always been so careful to keep her out of most of the action; she barely knew how to defend herself. He had insisted she didn't need to know how to use a knife or shoot a gun. She should be doing normal kid stuff like playing at the park. That was the reality though, that she wasn't a normal kid. She'd never been a normal kid, not since the day her mother had dumped her with Dean and taken off. She was a Winchester.

Sam and Dean came hurrying back out without Bobby shortly after they'd gone in, and they took off once more. Mack still didn't say anything, curling and uncurling her hands together in an effort to stop the shaking. She wished she had Skittles to hold. The rabbit always managed to calm her down when her anxiety levels were getting higher. But it had been ripped to bits by the archangel back at Chuck's house. Her father and uncle were discussing something, but she didn't hear a word of it, everything blocked out by the rushing of blood in her ears.

"Kinley?" Sam asked, trying to get her attention. She didn't respond, deep in her own little world. "Kinley. Mack. Mckinley!" She jumped, raising her head to look over at him. He was crouched outside the passenger door, staring at her worriedly. Dean was back at the trunk, gathering weapons; they'd arrived at Castle Storage where the Michael sword supposedly would be. "What's wrong, Kinley?" he asked her gently. "I... I..." Mack shook her head, unable to voice what she'd done out loud. "Do you wanna come in with me and your dad? You're allowed to stay out here if you don't want to."

"I wanna come," she mumbled, sliding across the seat toward him. He moved aside to let her out and she stood up, rubbing circles on her left palm with her right thumb. Sam could tell she was really shaken up about something, but wasn't saying what. He shot a knowing glance over at Dean, locking eyes with his brother and then nodding at Mack meaningfully. Dean nodded in understanding, bringing a shotgun over to Sam and keeping one for himself. "Stay close, okay, bug?" he told her. She just nodded, following him to the entrance of the storage unit. Sam brought up the rear so she was protected between him and Dean.

When they got inside, they found several dead demons on the floor thanks to all the traps John had in place in the unit. "I see you told the demons where the sword is," Zachariah said, appearing with his two lackeys once more. "Oh, thank God. The angels are here," Dean deadpanned. "And to think... they could have grabbed it any time they wanted." Zach waved his hand, closing the door and trapping the Winchesters in with them. "It was right in front of them."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked curiously, still positioned slightly behind Dean so Mack was kept safe. "We may have planted that particular piece of prophecy inside Chuck's skull, but it happened to be true. We did lose the Michael sword. We truly couldn't find it. Until now. You've just hand-delivered it to us." Dean shook his head, "We don't have anything."

"It's you, chucklehead. You're the Michael sword." Mack stared up at her father, mouth agape and still rubbing circles into her palm in an attempt to stave off her anxiety, and then back at Zachariah and the other angels. When Dean didn't say anything, Zachariah continued. "What, you thought you could actually kill Lucifer? You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing. No. You're just human, Dean. And not much of one."

"What do you mean, I'm the sword?" Dean queried. "You're Michael's weapon. Or rather his... receptacle," Zach explained, letting the words sink in. "I'm a vessel?" Dean asked. "You're the vessel," Zachariah stressed. "Michael's vessel." The eldest Winchester shook his head. "How? Why- why me?"

"Because you're chosen! It's a great honor, Dean."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, life as an angel condom. That's real fun. I think I'll pass, thanks." Zachariah's expression darkened, glowering. "Joking. Always joking. Well... no more jokes." He raised one hand, holding it like a finger gun, and pointed it at Dean. Then, he moved it in between Sam and Dean to point at Mack. "Bang." There was a loud crunch, and Mack cried out as she collapsed back into Sam's waiting arms; both her legs were broken. "You son of a bitch!" Dean yelled, anger flaring.

"Keep mouthing off, I'll break more than her legs," Zachariah threatened. "I'm completely and utterly through screwing around. The war has begun. We don't have our general. That's bad. Now, Michael is going to take his vessel and lead the final charge against the adversary. What do you say?" Mack had tears streaming down her cheeks, clinging desperately to Sam who'd sunk to the floor with her beside Dean. "How many humans die in the crossfire, huh?" Dean growled. "A million? Five, ten?"

"Probably more," the angel admitted. "If Lucifer goes unchecked, you know how many die? All of them. He'll roast the planet alive."

"There's a reason you're telling me this instead of just nabbing me. You need my consent. Michael needs my say-so to ride around in my skin."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Well, there's got to be another way," Dean argued, willing himself to ignore Mack's cries. "There is no other way," Zachariah countered. "There must be a battle. Michael must defeat the serpent. It is written." Sam stared up at his brother, seeing a muscle twitch in his jaw. "Yeah, maybe. But, on the other hand... Eat me. The answer's no."

"Okay. How about this? Your friend Bobby- we know he's gravely injured. Say yes, we'll heal him. Say no, he'll never walk again." Both younger Winchesters were looking up at Dean then, but he stood his ground. "No." Zachariah smirked. "Then how about we heal you from... stage-four stomach cancer?" Dean doubled over, coughing. He spit some blood into his hand, then glared up at the angel. "No." Zach took a deep breath. "Then let's get really creative. Uh, let's see how... Sam does without his lungs."

Mack felt her uncle's grip on her slacken as he began gasping for air. "Are we having fun yet? You're going to say yes, Dean." Dean tore his gaze from his brother and daughter to glare back at Zachariah. "Just kill us," he spat. "Kill you? Oh, no. I'm just getting started," Zachariah snarled. There was a bright flash of light, distracting him. When he turned, one of the angels collapsed, a bloody hole in his throat. Cas was standing where the angel had been. "Cas!" Mack cried out. Zachariah's other lackey engaged Cas in combat as they watched. Beneath Mack, Sam had begun to black out from lack of oxygen.

Cas finally managed to stab the other angel in the back, killing him, and then rounded on Zachariah. "How are you..." Zachariah trailed off. "Alive?" Cas finished. "That's a good question. How did these two end up on that airplane? Another good question. 'Cause the angels didn't do it. I think we both know the answer, don't we?" Zach's eyes widened, shaking his head emphatically. "No. That's not possible," he insisted. "It scares you. Well, it should. Now, put these three back together and go. I won't ask twice."

Zachariah vanished. Sam sat up, looking around in surprise as he was able to breathe again. All three Winchesters got to their feet, and Mack ran over and threw her arms around Castiel. "Cas!" A small smile tugged at the corners of Cas's lips and he brought a hand up to rest against her head. "Hello, bee. I have something for you." She pulled back, looking up at him curiously and he brought out her rabbit seemingly from thin-air, fully restored. "Skittles!" She took the stuffed animal, burying her nose in the top of its head and grinning widely.

"You two need to be more careful," Cas addressed Sam and Dean. Dean was staring between the angel and his daughter, heart swelling at the interaction and what Cas had done for her. He focused solely on Cas, locking onto those blue orbs as he replied. "Yeah, I'm starting to get that. Your frat brothers are bigger dicks than I thought."

"I don't mean the angels. Lucifer is circling his vessel. And once he takes it, those hex bags won't be enough to protect you." Castiel walked over, placing one hand on each of the brothers' chests. They both gasped as a searing pain shot through them. "What the hell was that?" Dean demanded. "An Enochian sigil. It'll hide you from every angel in creation, including Lucifer."

"What, did you just brand us with it?"

"No, I carved it into your ribs. May I give it to Mckinley?" Dean blinked, realizing Cas wanted his permission, and nodded. Cas crouched down in front of Mack, expression softening. "This may hurt a little, but it'll only be for a moment," he assured her. "Okay," she nodded. Cas reached out, touching her gently. A second later, her face scrunched up with pain and she whimpered a little, and then he pulled away, straightening up. "Hey, Cas, were you really dead?" Sam asked him. "Yes," Cas nodded. "Then how are you back?" Dean asked. Instead of replying, Cas vanished, leaving the Winchesters alone with the dead demons and angels.

"'Unlikely to walk again'?! Why, you snot-nosed son of a bitch! Wait till I get out of this bed!" The door to Bobby's hospital room burst open as the doctor fled. Inside, Bobby was sitting in the hospital bed with the Winchesters over by the window. "I'll use my game leg to kick your friggin' ass! Yeah, you better run!" Bobby continued yelling after the doctor. He looked over at Sam and Dean. "You believe that yahoo?"

"Screw him. You'll be fine," Dean replied, staring over at Mack. She had gone back to staying silent after Cas just disappeared without so much as a goodbye, and was currently sitting in a chair in the corner rubbing Skittles' ear. "So, let me ask the million dollar question," Sam said. "What do we do now?" Bobby swallowed. "Well... We save as many as we can for as long as we can, I guess. It's bad. Whoever wins, Heaven or Hell, we're boned."

"What if we win?"

Three sets of eyes went to Dean, who sounded just a bit too confident in the statement. "I'm serious. Screw the angels and the demons and their crap apocalypse. Hell, they want to fight a war, they can find their own damn planet. This one's ours, and I say they get the hell off it. We take 'em all on. We kill the devil. Hell, we even kill Michael if we have to. But we do it our own damn selves."

"And how are we supposed to do all this, genius?" Bobby asked. "I got no idea," Dean shrugged. "But what I do have is a GED and a give-'em-hell attitude, and I'll figure it out." Bobby scoffed. "You are nine kinds of crazy, boy."

"It's been said," Dean pat Bobby on the shoulder. "Listen, you stay on the mend. We'll see you in a bit." He headed for the door, Mack hopping up and coming over to take his hand to walk out. As Sam was following them, Bobby called out to stop him. "Sam? I was awake. I know what I said back there. I just want you to know that... that was the demon talking. I ain't cutting you out, boy. Not ever." There was a long pause, and Sam sighed. "Thanks, Bobby."

"You're welcome. I deserve a damn medal for this, but... you're welcome." The Winchesters headed out to the parking lot. "You know, I was thinking, Dean- maybe we could go after the Colt," Sam suggested. "Why? What difference would that make?" Dean looked over at his brother. "Well, we could use it on Lucifer. I mean, you just said back there-"

"I just said a bunch of crap for Bobby's benefit," Dean cut him off, stopping in the middle of the road with Mack now asleep in his arms. Sam also stopped, looking at him. "I mean, I'll fight. I'll fight till the last man, but let's at least be honest. I mean, we don't stand a snowball's chance, and you know that. I mean, hell, you of all people know that."

"Dean..." Sam said as he went around him. Dean stopped once more, turning back. "Is there something you want to say to me?" There was a long pause as they regarded each other. "I tried, Sammy. I mean, I really tried. But I can't just keep pretending that everything's all right. Because it's not. And it's never going to be. You chose a demon over your own brother-" Sam rolled his eyes. "-and look what happened."

"I would give anything- anything- to take it all back."

"I know you would. And I know how sorry you are. I do. But, man... you were the one that I depended on most. And you let me down in ways that I can't even..." Dean trailed off, struggling for words. "I'm just- I'm having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here. You know?"

"What can I do?" Sam asked. "Honestly? Nothing." Sam nodded, looking down, having expected the answer. "I just don't... I don't think that we can ever be what we were. You know?" Another nod of understanding from Sam. "I just don't think I can trust you." That time, Sam looked up in surprise. Dean just shook his head, walking the rest of the way to the Impala. He laid Mack in the backseat, glancing back at Sam one more time before getting in behind the wheel.