They worked a couple more cases, the latest being one Sam had found with a rugaru, and so they ended up bringing the alpha to the dropoff point where a few demons were waiting. "You're late," one of the demons growled. "Traffic was a bitch," Dean snapped back. "One rugaru," Sam said as they made the handoff. "Where's Crowley?" Dean asked. "Banging a hooker in a sweet spot called None Of Your Business." Dean glared. "Oh, look at that, Sam. Demon trying to be funny," he deadpanned.

"Oh, is that what just happened?" Sam asked, facial expression echoing Dean's. "Night, girls," the demons turned to go. "Wait, wait. Hold up, hold up," Dean stopped them. "Are we ever gonna see Crowley again or is he just gonna keep sending his demon extras to pick up his laundry?" The demon who'd been doing all the talking smirked, "I'm sorry. I know you're speaking, I see your lips moving, but I can't understand what you're saying 'cause I don't speak Little Bitch." Dean flinched, the words reminding him of John, and the demons snickered. They got into their van, driving off.

"Remember when we used to gank demons?" Dean snarled. He continued ranting all the way back to the house where he and Sam were squatting. "No man, screw it, I'm done," he shook his head, heading inside. "Calm down," Sam told him. "We've been going on these freaking Crowley runs and it's not getting us anywhere."

"Dean-"

"I mean, the only that's really changed, is now I need a daily rape shower." He froze up as soon as the words left his mouth. Again his mind went to John and his daughter. He needed to call Bobby's and talk to her. She'd been out of the program for three days now, and he still hadn't checked in because they'd been swamped with the different cases. Sam hadn't noticed the way he'd tensed up. "Okay, you're right. Let's go with Plan B. Oh yeah, we don't have one. So till we do, sorry dude, stock up on soap-on-a-rope. Dean, if you want to get my soul back, that's what we gotta do, okay?"

"Yeah…" Dean swallowed, eyeing his brother, "you even want it back?" Sam scoffed, "I'm working for Crowley, aren't I?" Dean headed over to pour himself a drink, back to Sam. "Yeah, well, who says he's gonna hold up his end, you know? It is Crowley. You ever think about that? Right?" He turned back around to find Sam was gone. "So, I guess the moment's over, is that what you're saying? Sam!" There was no answer, and he drew his gun, looking for his brother. He was lying unconscious in the next room. The next thing Dean knew, someone had hit him from behind, knocking him out.

When the brothers both came to, they were tied to a couple of chairs. "What now?" Dean groaned. "I think I know who you can ask," Sam answered, looking toward the shadows of the doorway. Dean also looked in that direction as Meg came out into the light. "Evil bitch," he snarled. "Keep sweet talking me, this could go a whole new direction," she purred. "Meg. I've been dying to see you again." Meg grinned, "Well, here I am, big boy. So, what should we do now?" Dean glared back at her. "How about I rip you to shreds?"

"Kinky, I like. A little Q and A first, if you don't mind. Now, where's your boss?" She stared at them expectantly. "You think we work for somebody?" Sam asked. "I happen to know for a fact you've been juggling Crowley's orphans. Now where is he?"

"Don't know. Don't care." For once, Dean was a little thankful for Sam's inability to show any real emotion. "You've been working his beat for months," Meg insisted. "Doesn't mean we get face time," Sam shrugged. Dean tensed as Meg straddled his lap. "Where's he take all those things you snatch up for him?" she asked. "I bet you an all-day sucker that's where his majesty's holed up." Dean didn't respond, and she pulled out a knife, pressing it to his throat. "Okay, officially over foreplay. Satisfy me, or I please myself." Sam began to laugh.

"Something funny, Sam?" Dean hissed. "Yeah, Meg," Sam replied. "Really? 'Cause where I'm sitting…" Dean started. "Don't worry," Sam cut him off. "She can't do jack squat. She's totally screwed." Dean clenched his jaw as Meg pressed the knife a little harder against his throat. "Sam, not helping." Sam was still grinning. "Look at her, Dean. She's furious. If she could kill you, she'd've done it by now. She's running." Meg glared over at him. "Am I?"

"Judging by the level of flop sweat on you, yeah," he smirked. "Which means you're running from Crowley. Which makes sense. Crowley would want to hunt down all the Lucifer loyalists now that he's the big man on campus."

"How would you know?"

"It's what I'd do," Sam said, then addressed Dean. "She can't kill us. She needs us to get her to Crowley so she can stick that knife in his neck. It's him or her." Dean smirked a little, "Well, I hope you both lose. But good luck." The knife left his throat, but he still remained tense. "So, you know what you gotta do now, right?" Sam asked. "Let me guess," Meg looked at him. "You're gonna tell me."

"Work with us." Dean looked over at his brother in shock. "Whoa, what?" Sam ignored him, continuing to talk to Meg. "We'll hand you Crowley with a bow. On one condition: we come with you and you help us wring a little something out of him before you hack him to bits." That piqued Meg's curiosity. "What?" she asked. "Doesn't matter. Question is, can you get us what we need?" Meg smirked. "I apprenticed under Alastair in Hell just like your brother," she turned her focus to Dean. "So Dean, can I make Crowley do whatever I want?"

"Yeah," Dean muttered, averting his gaze, "she can." Meg grinned, standing up. "It's a deal then. Hugs and puppies all around!" She started to walk off. "You gonna untie us?" Dean asked. "Please," she smirked. "Don't pretend you don't enjoy it." She turned to leave once more, and one of the demons that had knocked out the brothers walked up to Dean, staring at him intently. "You gonna kiss me?" Dean quipped. "Come on!" Meg snapped at the demon. They exited the room. As soon as they were out of earshot, Dean glared over at Sam. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked innocently, genuinely confused by Dean's tone. "I mean, what are you doing?!" Dean repeated angrily. "Dean, you wanted to screw over Crowley. Merry Christmas." Dean glared and Sam frowned. "What?" Sam asked. "You want to work with a demon again?" Dean snapped. "We're working with demons now," Sam pointed out. "I'm doing this because I wanna stop."

"She killed Ellen and Jo. Mack was marked and taken hostage by Lucifer because of her!"

"I know. But you can't look at this emotionally, Dean. We need her." Easy for him to say, the soulless bastard. He was literally incapable of feeling any real emotions. "The hell we do!" Dean shouted. "That little bitch is gonna screw us over so fast-" He cut himself off as he realized what he'd just called Meg. Sam didn't notice, just like before. "Of course," he nodded. "Which is why we'll screw her over first. Meg and her little posse are dead the second we're done with them." Dean scowled, "Yeah, if they don't kill us."

"They won't," Sam insisted. "'Cause we're bringing insurance."

"Castiel, we need your help," Sam said, standing outside the house in the dark. There was no response. "Cas, come on. Bobby just called with news about Mack, and it sounds serious." There was the sound of wings. "What's wrong with Mckinley?" Cas asked him. Sam turned to face the angel. "I can't believe you fell for that," he scoffed. "I was just saying that to get you here." Cas glared at Sam in frustration. "I'm mid-battle, Sam," he reminded him in frustration. "I could give a rat's ass about your pissing match with Raphael."

"Listen to me, Sam-"

"No, you listen! I don't care what you're dealing with in Heaven. You owe me!" Cas became enraged, slamming Sam against the wall. "You listen to me very carefully, Sam Winchester. You lure me here under false pretenses, claim Mckinley is in some sort of trouble after everything she's been through, and now you dare tell me I owe you? I owe you nothing." Sam met Cas' fiery gaze, cold resolve in his own empty eyes. "If you don't help us, I will hunt you down and kill you," he threatened. "Will you, boy?" Cas spat. "How?"

"I don't know yet. But I will look until I find out, and I don't sleep," Sam promised. The fire died in Cas' eyes, just slightly. "You need help, Sam," he murmured softly. "I need your help," Sam stressed. They were both quiet for a moment. "If you ever dare to threaten or trick me into thinking that Mckinley is in any sort of danger again, it will be the last thing you ever do," Cas informed him, before backing off. They headed into the house where Dean was waiting.

"You actually showed," Dean stared at Cas in surprise. "Wow, Sam, I owe you a chicken dinner. What happened?" Sam shrugged, "No big deal. This is what friends do for each other." Dean stared in between his brother and the angel, trying to read between the lines. Neither said anything else, as Cas set to work trying to perform a ritual to locate Crowley. "It's not working," he shook his head. "Crowley's hidden from me." Dean sighed, "Well, looks like we're gonna have to try this the hard way."

They headed to the Campbell Compound, searching Samuel's study for clues. Samuel walked in, finding them there. "Can I help you? What do you want?" he asked. "We wanna know where Crowley is," Dean answered. "If I even knew, why would I tell you?" Samuel raised his eyebrows. "'Cause you're our grandfather," Dean snapped. "Samuel, I'm gonna get my soul back," Sam added. "Who says you can get it back?"

"Me," Sam said. "Look, I'd like to help, but I'm sorry," Samuel shook his head. "It's your grandson's soul," Dean growled. He was really frustrated about how Crowley had felt the need to bring back both his father and grandfather, but neither appeared to be on their side. Samuel refused for reasons he wouldn't tell them, and John… "I can't," Samuel insisted. "What is wrong with you? Do you wanna work for Crowley? Cas, can you give us a minute?"

Cas vanished obediently, leaving the Winchesters alone with their grandfather. "We're your blood," Dean continued. "But if you don't wanna help us, I can't make you. I just wanna know why. What is Crowley holding over you? You owe us that." Samuel reached into his pocket, taking out a picture and handing it to Dean. It was a black and white photo of a teenage Mary. "Mom?" Dean breathed, looking from the picture to Samuel. "He's gonna give her back to me," Samuel informed them quietly. "Crowley's gonna bring Mom back from the dead?"

Assuming he didn't kill John before then, that would mean all the Winchesters would be alive again. He would have everyone in his family back… "You tell me you don't want her back," Samuel said, as if he could read Dean's thoughts. Dean didn't respond, looking back at the photo. "You know the one difference between you and me? You know how to live without her," Samuel continued. "Look, I know how you feel," Dean tried to reason with his grandfather. "No, you don't. She's my daughter, and she's dead, and I can do something about it."

"You're really suggesting I wouldn't do the same thing for my daughter?" Dean snapped. "But, then, I guess that's the point. Doing this, this is how the bad guys get us every time! Apparently, it runs in the family. So, I'm begging you. Learn from our mistakes, and don't go down that road." Samuel scowled, "I'm sorry, Dean, but I-"

"Fine. Bring her back. But what are you gonna tell her? You gonna tell her you made a deal with a demon? That you wouldn't help her own sons?" Samuel blew up, "That's enough! Just get out."

Back at the house that night, Cas sat watching TV while Sam and Dean were doing research. "It's very complex," Cas mused, eyes glued to the screen. "Mm-hmm," Dean hummed, only half-listening. "If the pizza man truly loves this babysitter, why does he keep slapping her rear? Perhaps she's done something wrong." Dean slowly looked up, Cas' words finally registering. "You're watching porn?" he asked. "Why?"

"It was there… I'd very much like to try some of this with you, Dean. I think it would be very enjoyable." Dean's cheeks were flaming as he sputtered, trying to ignore the way Sam was snickering. "Y-you don't watch porn in a room full of dudes. A-and you d-don't talk about it. Just turn it off…" Cas looked down at his lap and Dean became even more embarrassed. "Great… now he's got a boner," he muttered. There was a knock at the door, and Dean rushed to answer it, eager to escape the awkwardness of the situation.

Samuel walked in, looking from his grandsons to the angel sitting at the end of the bed. "This is what you boys do, sit around watching pornos with angels?" he quipped. "We're not supposed to talk about it," Cas stated, eyes still locked on the screen. "W-why are you here, Samuel?" Dean asked, willing himself to stop blushing. "It's what Mary would want. Now, this is what I know. Whatever we bag ends up there," he pointed to a marked spot on a map he brought. "That's where he tortures 'em, interrogates 'em, I don't know really. Only been outside the place, but it's a death trap. Nothing gets in that Crowley doesn't want in, and nothing gets out, period."

"Well, thanks," Dean told him. "I wish you wouldn't do this," Samuel told them. "Come with us," Sam invited. Samuel shook his head, "I may be soft, but I'm not suicidal." He left them the map, heading back out. Sam left to call Meg and her posse back, so they could get going, which left Dean alone with Cas and the porno. "Seriously, Cas, turn it off," Dean begged. Cas reached for the remote, complying with the request, and suddenly things seemed really quiet without the soft background noise of the TV.

"How have you been, Dean?" Cas asked. The genuine question asked so sincerely threw Dean off for a moment. "I- uh… Honestly? Not great," Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. Cas waited patiently for him to continue, blue eyes studying him imploringly. "Y-you know, between the- the thing with Sam not having a soul, and then Mack spending all that time in the looney bin, a-and now this…" Cas stood up. "I'm sorry, Dean. I should have been there for you."

"N-no," Dean shook his head. "You haven't done anything wrong, Cas. I- I know the war keeps you busy. None of this is your fault." Cas frowned, moving in closer to him. "I still should have made an effort to be there when I could. So much of your pain could have been avoided if I had just answered your prayers sooner." He reached out, taking one of Dean's hands in one of his own, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. Dean swallowed, some of the tension relaxing from his shoulders as he concentrated on the soothing motion. "You're here now," he whispered, lifting his gaze to lock onto the familiar blue eyes he loved so much.

"Dean, can we-" Cas tugged him back gently toward the bed. "No, Cas… we don't have time. We gotta get ready to go and-" Dean was cut off as Cas stepped even further into his space, pressing their lips gently together in a chaste kiss before pulling back and resting their foreheads against each other. "What if we're fast?" Cas whispered. Dean couldn't keep the little smirk off his face. "Cas, buddy, you don't know how to be fast when it comes to that." Cas sighed, "But it's been so long, and I need you."

"I-I know. I need you, too, but we can't risk it right now," Dean told him painfully. Cas let out another sigh, pressing his lips to Dean's once more. This time there was more pressure, more need fueling it. Dean responded readily, but ultimately was the one to pull back. "Come on. We gotta go see if Sam got in contact with Meg and her posse. We can do it later if we have time, I promise." Cas nodded, allowing Dean to pull him out the door to meet the others outside.

Sam was waiting by Meg and her posse as they walked up. "Remember me?" Meg smirked at Cas. "I sure remember you, Clarence." Dean clenched his jaw. "Why are we working with these abominations?" Cas asked, glaring at Meg and the other demons. "Keep talking dirty. Makes my meat suit all dewey," Meg purred. "Alright, simmer down," Dean snapped, tightening his grip on Cas' hand subtly. "We know where Crowley is."

"Great. Do tell."

"Yeah, tell you, so you can just leave us for dead," Sam glared at her. "You boys have some serious abandonment issues, you know that?" Meg quipped. "We'll show you, alright? But we're all going together." The demoness scoffed, "What, I'm supposed to trust you?" He shook his head, "No, you're not that stupid. Give me the knife for a minute.

"No, I'm not that stupid," she deadpanned. "Do you want us to take you to Crowley or not?" Sam held out his hand expectantly. Cautiously, Meg handed over Ruby's knife and he proceeded to use it to stab the demon who'd been scowling at Dean earlier while they were tied up. At everyone's incredulous looks, Sam simply said, "You saw him. He was more interested in killing us than getting the job done. I just did us all a favor." He started to head back to the house, blade still in hand.

"Hey! You just gonna keep that?" Meg called after him. "You took it from us. I'm taking it back," he shot over his shoulder. The rest of the group followed him inside to pack and get ready for the hunt. Cas stood and watched Dean get ready. "You know, Cas, you could help," Dean gave him a look as he filled his duffel bag. "I'm ambivalent about what we're attempting." Dean huffed, "Is this about earlier, because I told you-"

"I'm not sure retrieving Sam's soul is wise," Cas cut him off. Dean blinked in surprise. "Wait, what? Why?" Cas frowned, "I want him to survive." Dean frowned back in confusion. "What are you talking about?" Cas swallowed, appearing to think through his next words. "Sam's soul has been locked in the cage with Michael and Lucifer for more than a year. And they have nothing to do but take their frustrations out on him. You understand? If we try to force that mutilated thing down Sam's gullet, we have no idea what will happen. It could be catastrophic."

"You mean he dies."

"I mean he doesn't," Cas took a step closer to him. "Paralysis. Insanity. Psychic pain so profound that he's locked inside himself for the rest of his life." Dean swallowed, eyes darting between Cas' as he let that thought sink in. "But you're saying you don't know anything for sure," he pointed out desperately. "I mean, he could be fine." Cas nodded, "He could be yes." Dean turned away, "Okay, then."

"But I sincerely doubt it."

Dean tensed up, but didn't turn back to face the angel. "Well, if he's not fine, then you fix him," he said, focusing on packing once more. "Dean, I wouldn't know where to begin." Dean whirled back around, anger lighting up his eyes. "Then you figure it out, Cas. Come on. I mean, the guy's a friggin' replicant. He needs his soul. Look, we get it back. And if there are complications, then we'll figure out a way to deal with those, too."

"Of course," Cas nodded, and Dean turned back around, thinking he had won the argument. "Or we fail, and Sam suffers horrifically." Dean didn't say anything, pursing his lips as he finished packing. In the shadows, unbeknownst to the angel or his brother, Sam stood listening to the entire conversation.

Samuel's warning of 'nothing gets in that Crowley doesn't want in, and nothing gets out, period' had them on edge, especially considering how easily they were able to just stroll into Crowley's compound. As they crept down the hallway, Cas suddenly reached out and grabbed Dean's arm. "Wait." Dean looked at him curiously, "What is it?" That was when they heard the sound of dogs barking in the distance. "Damn it. Here come the guards," Meg said. "Hellhounds. Go!" Dean yelled.

They all took off running for the nearest set of doors, wedging them shut with a piece of wood and drawing a line of salt. Meg's remaining two lackeys didn't make it and were ripped apart by the hounds on the other side. Dean's heart was pounding and he clutched at Cas' hand desperately as they stared back. "I knew this was a trap," he muttered. "What do you want, a cupcake?" Meg quipped. "Alright, that should keep them out," Sam nodded at the salt line. "Not for long. How many of them are there?"

"Lots," Meg answered. "I'll be pulling for you… from Cleveland." Dean looked at her in surprise. "What?!" Meg glared, "I didn't know this was gonna happen. Bright side: them chewing up my meat suit ought to buy you a few seconds. Seacrest out." She attempted to vacate her host body, but nothing happened. "A spell, I think, from Crowley," Cas explained, subtly rubbing circles on Dean's hand with his thumb to calm him. "Within these walls you're locked inside your body."

"Karma's a bitch, bitch," Dean smirked. Sam took Ruby's knife out of his pocket. "What are you doing, gonna slash at thin air until you hit something?" Dean asked. Sam ignored him, holding the knife out to Meg. "You can see them. Take this. Hold them off. It's our best shot."

"At Crowley," she shook her head. "Take it and go. You kill the smarmy dick. I'll hold off the dogs." Dean raised an eyebrow, "How you gonna do that?" Instead of answering, Meg stepped forward and grabbed Cas by the neck, kissing him while simultaneously nabbing his angel blade. Cas had let go of Dean's hand in shock and Dean was staring, mouth agape as the demon made out with his angel. Finally, she pulled back with a soft smack. "What was that for?" Cas demanded. "Wanted to see what all the fuss was about with you and grumpy," Meg nodded at Dean. "Plus, I needed this." She wagged the angel blade for them to see.

"Whoa, whoa, is that gonna work on a hellhound?" Dean asked. "We're about to find out. If we survive this, call me. I've always wanted to try a threesome. Now run." The boys took off, while Meg adjusted her grip on the blade, facing the shaking doors and preparing to fight the hounds. "We are not calling her," Dean muttered as they ran through the dark halls. "Can't see jack." Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light and Cas vanished. "Cas?!"

"Dean," Sam got his brother's attention. Dean turned to see what he was looking at. Samuel was standing next to an angel banishing sigil. "You sold us out?" Dean growled, as two demons appeared behind them and restrained him and Sam. "Damn you, Samuel." Crowley walked up next to their grandfather. "Yes. And I have to say, best purchase I've made since Dick Cheney." Dean was fuming. "Hiya, Crowley. How's tricks?" The king of Hell smirked, "Above your pay grade. Been working. Big things. Alas, you'll be too dead to participate."

"Really?" Dean glared, trying to hide how much he was freaking out. He couldn't die- he hadn't even gotten the chance to see or talk to Mack since she got back to Bobby's. He had to get back to her, had to tell her how much he loved her. "Shame I have to do away with you both. Rather enjoyed your indentured servitude." The demons dragged Sam and Dean off and threw them in separate cells. "Sam?!"

"Yeah," Sam called back. "I'm standing in pee," Dean wrinkled his nose. "Consider yourself lucky," Sam told him. "Yikes. That sucks," Dean muttered, staring around at the plain gray concrete walls of the cell. The window on the door of his cell opened from the outside by Samuel. "You want forgiveness, find a priest," Dean snapped. "I just want you to understand," Samuel began. "Oh, I understand… that you're a liar. You talk about putting blood first, which is funny 'cause you sound like my dad. The difference is, he actually did." At least, he did with him and Sam… His daughter was an entirely different story.

"I am putting blood first," Samuel insisted. "Oh, gimme a break!" Dean shouted. "Mary's my blood! My daughter! Don't come at me like I sold you out, Dean. You sold out your own mother. It was her or Sam, and you chose Sam, plain and simple." Dean moved in close to the bars, glaring out at his grandfather. "Oh, that is such crap! You wanna know what really happened? You chose a demon over your own grandsons!" Samuel stared back at him levelly. "See it how you want. I don't even know what Sam is. And you want me to protect him? And you? You're a stranger. No, really, tell me: what exactly are you supposed to be to me?"

"I'll tell you who I am. I'm the guy you never wanna see again. 'Cause I'll make it out of here, trust me. And next time you see me, I'll be there to kill you," Dean threatened. "Don't think there's gonna be a next time," Samuel replied evenly. "Whatever gets you through the night." The two demons working for Crowley opened the door, dragging Dean off while Samuel stood by and watched. He was thrown in a room with blood and guts all over it, and then the demons brought two ghouls in. While he fought them, Sam had managed to trap the demons using a devil's trap made of his own blood in his cell and was hurrying down the hall looking for him. "Frickin' hate ghouls!" Dean's shouts carried down the hall. "Dean?!" Sam yelled.

"Let me go, son of a bitch!" Sam hurried toward the sound of Dean's voice. "Dean!" He finally found the right door, arriving just in time to stop Dean from getting eaten. He used a metal bar ripped from the wall to stake one of the ghouls. Dean took out the other one. "Come on," Dean said, leading the way out. As they headed through the halls, the sound of Meg screaming met their ears. They followed the sound, and Dean stalked up behind Christian, the demon torturing her, and Meg's scream morphed into a laugh. "What are you laughing at?" Christian demanded. Dean grabbed Ruby's knife out of his hand, stabbing it in his back. "Dean Winchester's behind you, meatsack," Meg smirked.

"We should go," Sam said from the doorway. Dean began working to untie Meg. "Put some clothes on, we gotta move," he growled, already heading toward the door. Meg chuckled, but complied, for once not making a smart remark. "Or, we could trap Crowley here," she suggested instead. Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "How?"

"You should be ghoul scat right now," Crowley said, coming into the room to find Dean. Sam shoved him from behind, sending him to his hands and knees. "Really necessary? I just had this dry-cleaned." He straightened up, dusting off his suit only to realize he was stuck in a devil's trap. "So, what do I owe the reach-around?" Meg entered the room, "Crowley."

"Whore."

"Okay, you know what." Meg used her powers to injure Crowley internally, making him cough up blood. "The best torturers never get their hands dirty. Sam wants a word with you." She lowered her hand, allowing Crowley to breathe. "What can I do for you, Sam?" the demon king gasped, looking up at Sam. "You know damn well. I want my soul back." Meg eyed Sam with interest. "And here I thought you just grew some balls, Sam."

"Well?" Sam asked, ignoring her. "No," Crowley answered. "Meg?" Dean barked. She raised her hand again, resuming Crowley's torture. "I can't," he choked out. "Can't or won't?" Sam demanded. "I said 'can't'. I meant 'can't', you mop-headed lumberjack. I was lucky to get this much of you out. Going back in there for the sloppy bits? No way. I'm good, but those two in there? Forget it."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"You don't. But it doesn't change anything. I'm telling you. Sam, why do you want the thing back? Satan's got one juicy source of entertainment in there. I'd swallow a rag off a bathhouse floor before I took that soul. Unless you want to be a drooling mess." Dean glanced at his brother, whose face was as expressionless as ever. "Sam, I hate to say it, but he's right," Meg piped up. "Yeah, right. I get it. Thanks. He's all yours." Sam turned away from Crowley, and Dean's hand shot out to grab his arm.

"Whoa, what are you, crazy? He's our only hope," he said. "Dean, you heard him. He can't get it. He's useless." Dean let go of him, swallowing as he handed Meg the knife. She took a step toward the devil's trap, then paused. "You'll let me back out, right?" Both brothers nodded. She stepped into the circle with Crowley. "This is for Lucifer, you pompous little-" Crowley took her down easily, using the knife to break the trap. He flung the Winchesters, pinning them to opposite walls.

"That's better," he grinned, straightening his suit jacket. "You don't know torture, you little insect." Meg glared up at him as Cas suddenly reappeared in the room with a burlap sack. "Leave them alone," he growled. "Castiel, haven't seen you all season," Crowley quipped. "You the cavalry now?" Cas glared. "Put the knife down." The demon king scoffed. "You that bossy in Heaven? Hear you're losing out to Raphael. The whole affair makes Vietnam look like a roller derby," he noticed the sack. "Hey, what's in the gift bag?"

"You are," Cas replied, pulling out a skull from the bag. Dean's jaw dropped in surprise. Something about the whole exchange seemed sort of forced to him. And he wondered how Cas had found Crowley's bones so quickly. However, he pushed those thoughts aside, figuring it didn't matter and he was just reading into things too much. "Not possible," Crowley stared at the skull in surprise. "You didn't hide your bones as well as you should have." The demon began clapping mockingly. "Cookie for you."

"Can you restore Sam's soul, or not?" Cas asked, and Dean furrowed his brow, the doubts creeping back into his mind. Again, he pushed it aside, desperate for his brother back. "If I can help any other way-" Crowley began. "Answer him!" Dean shouted. "I can't," Crowley said. Cas lit the bones on fire, and the king of Hell went up in flames. Sam and Dean were released from the walls and Meg vanished. "Well, she's smart, I'll give her that," Dean stared at the spot where she'd been. "I was gonna kill her, too."

They headed out of the building, walking over to the Impala. "Thanks, Cas," Dean told him. "Hadn't been for you-" Cas cut him off, "Crowley was right. It's not going well for me upstairs." Dean swallowed. "If there's anything we can do-" He was cut off again. "There isn't. I wish circumstances were different. Much of the time I'd rather be here." Cas looked at Dean meaningfully and Dean thought of their conversation earlier about how Cas wanted to steal a few minutes to have sex. Part of him wished he hadn't turned him down. "Look, Cas, we know you got a steaming pile on your plate. There's no need for apologies. We're your friends."

"Listen, Sam, we'll find another way," Cas told the younger Winchester. "You really want to help? Prison full of monsters. Can't just leave 'em, can't let 'em go," Sam told him. "I understand." Cas vanished with a flutter of wings. "He's right, you know?" Dean told his brother. "About?" Sam asked. "About your soul. We'll figure something else out."

"No, we won't."

"Why, because Crowley said-" Dean began. "You heard what Crowley said. And I heard what Cas said. Putting this thing back would smash me to bits." Dean immediately went on the defensive. "We don't know that for sure." Sam huffed in frustration, "You know what? When angels and demons agree on something, call me nuts, but I pay attention." Dean couldn't believe it, "You say this now? After we practically died trying to-"

"Exactly! We almost got ourselves killed! I mean, how many times do we risk our asses for this? Enough's enough."

"Sam-"

"I don't think I want it back," Sam continued. "You don't know what you're saying," Dean shook his head. "No, I'm saying something you don't like. You obviously care, a lot. But I think I'm better off without it." Dean was still shaking his head. "You're wrong. You don't know how wrong you are." Sam frowned, "I'm not sure about that." He turned, starting to walk away. "Sam, don't walk away. Sam! Sam!"