I decided to do another pass at the last few chapters of this story. The ending had felt rushed.

When Sam woke the following day he felt terrible. It took him a good solid ten minutes to even get the will to reach over and turn on the small lamp beside his bed. He blinked at the sudden harsh light, and repressed a yawn, grabbing his phone and taking note of the time. He forced himself into a sitting position, gently rubbing his hand over his bruised chest. He was glad it wasn't worse, but cracked ribs were one of his least favorite injuries to heal from.

He was aware that he was taking his time as he got ready. The extra moments spent picking out clothes and brushing his teeth were needed to steel himself for the day ahead. He was glad he had showered before going to bed, grateful not to spend his entire morning trying to scrub loose the debris from the library.

He knew he had put it off long enough. He had to face the day. Somehow, knowing the problem only made it worse, since he didn't have a set task to do. He had exhausted every avenue he could think of, and didn't have any idea how to escape this lockdown early. He had been starting with the archives, so the books he didn't read were ashes in the library. Not exactly the most helpful.

Sam paused briefly in the kitchen, grabbing a bite to eat on the way to the infirmary. He paused again, just outside the door, taking a deep breath before he entered.

Cas was sitting on the far bed, his pensive gaze resting on Dean. His brother was still where he left him, on the middle cot, but the restraints had been reapplied, all four of his limbs strapped to the bed. Castiel looked up at Sam and nodded to him.

"Bad night?" Sam asked, gesturing the tie-downs.

Cas sighed. "He just found sleep. The majority of the night he was in and out of a dozen hallucinations."

"All bad?"

Cas nodded. "From what I could tell."

Sam wasn't surprised. With the amount of shit Dean had been through in his life, he was bound to pull up a lot of suffering when prompted. "He have any lucid moments at all?"

Cas shook his head. "No."

"Great." Sam sank into the chair, looking at his brother and setting his hands across his lap. "Any seizures?"

"One, but it was shorter than the rest. No respiratory interruptions."

"That's good at least." He rubbed his hands through his hair briefly before sinking back down into one of the chairs, feeling exhausted just from the emotional toll of simply walking back in. "I feel so useless."

Cas offered a gentle look of support. "You remind me of Dean." He sighed at Sam's confused glance. "After Famine…"

"When I came down." Sam finished softly, his eyes downcast as he recalled one of his many failings.

"He waited the entire time for you, nearby but unable to do anything to help you. He didn't know if you'd survive that either." Cas sighed.

"I didn't know… he stayed the whole time?" Once it was done, Dean had nursed him back to his feet and they never spoke of it again. Dean made him promise to drop the guilt with the subject entirely, and he tried his best to comply.

"As close as he could manage." The angel looked at Sam. "It wasn't easy for him. To see you in agony and be able to offer no assistance." Cas knew there was nothing either Winchester wouldn't do for eachother. Just as there was nothing he could say now that would completely ease Sam's mind. So he would just do anything he could to lift the burden even slightly. "You being here is the best you can do for him, and you know it will mean a lot to him when he gets through this."

Sam sucked in a deep breath. He closed his eyes. "Thanks Cas. I just wish I had even seen this coming."

"This withdrawal?"

"This problem. That it had gotten so out of hand."

Cas shook his head. "There is very little in this world that Dean cannot hide if he truly puts his mind to it. I doubt if even Dean realized this problem had escalated to this point."

"Yeah." Sam gave a short humourless laugh. "I'm going to kill him when all this is done." He absently flipped through the pages of one of the books on the desk. "I felt so much more prepared when we were looking for some supernatural cause. I never had a plans for something so… so-"

"Human?"

"It's just not our usual gig." He managed a small smile. "At least I kept mine interesting."

"Maybe there is some other angle. Some other way to help Dean."

"Like what?" Sam shook his head. "I don't know how to bust us out. And the illness isn't supernatural in origin. "

"The illness may not be caused by supernatural forces, but perhaps it can be cured with one. Are there any spells for general human maladies?"

Sam deflated. "There might have been. In the library." He ran his hands over his face. "I started with the archives, I was just starting to turn my attention to the main shelves when-" When it all went up in literal flames.

"What about something non conventional. A way to slow time or put him in some sort of stasis? Something to buy him the time to hold on until the locking spell is lifted?"

Sam froze, looking up at the angel. "We just need to buy him time…" He mumbled, standing quickly, his chair almost falling over from the sudden move. "I think I did see something."

.

It was evening before Sam felt confident they had the right ingredients gathered. He tried to ignore the near constant screaming from down the hallway as he lit the candles surrounding the cast iron bowl. One by one each of the ingredients were dropped into the basin, ready for the final ingredient. Blood.

Sam sighed. "Cas, are you sure about this?"

Cas gave a small half smile and a head tilt. "Something tells me if Dean came to with you unconscious, we'd just spend the next two days with him trying to save you."

"You're probably right." He sighed, watching the angel slice his hand and drain it on top of the other items. "If this works, you'll take on the bulk of his symptoms, starting slow and building up to his current condition. But you'll be in a sort of sleep I guess, so you shouldn't feel it." Sam paused. "I hope."

"How long will this give him?"

"A little north of three days. Maybe three and a half."

"The spell will not be lifted for almost four." Castiel frowned.

"It's gotta be close enough. Every little bit helps."

"What use did the Men of Letters have for such a limited spell?"

Sam lifted the two crystals out of the bloody mess, running them through the candle's flame briefly, watching as they took on a gentle blue glow. "If two agents were in the field, and one of them was critically injured, it could prolong their life a little."

"Until they could find a cure?"

"Until they could tell their last secrets and die." Sam admitted. "It was sort of a pause button on death so their knowledge didn't get lost." He snuffed out the candles. "It should do the trick though. You channel his illness, and he'll be able to hold out until the lockdown is just about lifted. And then we can haul ass to a hospital."

Castiel nodded. "Let's not delay any further."

The pair walked down towards the infirmary, becoming instantly aware of Dean's distressed and delirious mumblings. He was writhing in pain and sorrow when they entered, and Sam's heart caught in his throat.

Castiel removed the crystals from Sam's hand when he froze. He walked to Dean, grabbing his clenched and restrained hand and managing to push the crystal through his fingers so the hunter gripped it. The other he held himself. The angel sat on the edge of one of the cots and prepared to speak the spell's final component. He gave a brief nod to Sam before sounding out the complex latin phrase.

Dean's eyes flew open, glowing bright with the same quality that now burned from each crystal. Cas' eyes lit up the same, and while Dean's pain seemed to arc through him and away, Cas instead grunted and clenched his jaw. The angel slumped sideways, his eyes closing over the glow and finally surrendering to the darkness that awaited him.

The glow faded from Dean's eyes and the crystal fell from his now limp hand. He looked around with lucid panic, pulling his hands and letting his breath catch in his throat as he found himself bound.

Sam seemed to be pulled from his frozen state and he rushed forward, starting to undo the straps that held his brother down.

"Sam, what the hell happened?"

"We bought some time." Sam breathed. "You have some time. You're okay."