Dean pulled back as suddenly as he had let himself move forward, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. He was grateful for the almost immediate crashing sound down the hallway. He whipped around, welcoming the distraction, and grabbed an angel blade off the tray table of tools. "We have to get out of here before Malachi comes back." He said quickly, not allowing his brain to spare any thoughts about what just happened.
Cas was nothing if not a focused fighter, and he was ready to leave just as quickly, turning his attention fully to their surroundings.
"Cas, can you get us back to the cabin?" He was an angel again, he was hoping flight was back on the menu. Ezekiel didn't fly, but he was weak. Dean hoped that wasn't the case for them all, that Cas would still be able to fly...
The angel shook his head, but chose not to elaborate further.
"Okay, then we look for a way out." He nodded towards the open door.
They made their way down the damp hallway of cells, finally making their way cautiously up the steps at the end. At last they made it to a door that looked like it led outside. Dean came right up to it, readying to push it open. He signaled to Cas with his hand to have his blade at the ready for however many angels might be guarding outside. Then in one swift motion he had the door open and he pushed out just after Cas.
They both came to a halt just outside, blinking in the afternoon sunlight, but they came to see half a dozen angels dead on the ground with Crowley standing right in the middle. Dean walked forward, a little less on guard seeing the coast was clear. The demon grinned. "Hello boys."
Dean's expression hardened. "I told you to stay with Sam."
"His angelic partner sent me, said you two might need a lift home. Couldn't come inside but I figured you two love birds would make it out eventually."
The hunter chose to ignore him. "Malachi?"
Crowley pointed, and the pair turned, seeing the deceased body of one anarchist angel. "Now then, shall we get going?" He didn't wait for a response as he reached out his hands and suddenly they were outside of the cabin. "I'd go in, but apparently my invite has been revoked. I'll leave you to it. He still seemed in rough shape when I last left." Crowley mock bowed. "I'll be waiting here if you require any more assistance my liege."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas, do you think you can help heal Ezekiel? Get Sam back on his feet?" He tucked the angel blade into his inner jacket pocket, straightening up and finally daring to look at the angel.
Castiel nodded. "I should be able to at least help."
Dean started forward, giving a quick percussive knock to warn Sam it was just him before opening the door. He noted the intact salt line and repaired devils trap. Crowley hadn't been wrong. Bracing himself against what he was sure was inevitable rage, he kept moving forward. "Sam-"
"I am not your brother."
"Oh. Zeek. Cas should be able to-" He cut himself off as Cas' hand landed roughly on his shoulder, pulling Dean back and behind him. He looked at the angel, trying to figure out what just happened.
Cas's expression was dark and somewhat alarmed. Dean followed it to Ezekiel who was wearing an expression that could be mistaken for fear. "Castiel-" His tone was hesitant, and Dean didn't miss the fact that Ezekiel started to put his hands palms up as if trying to appease the other angel.
Dean furrowed his brow slightly. "Cas, what-"
"That is not Ezekiel." Cas said, his voice low. His posture had changed dramatically. He was tense, but in a way that was ready to spring into action. It was more than a little intimidating.
The hunter took a second, trying to let Cas' words sink in and connect. Not Ezekiel. The angel was not Ezekiel. The angel he allowed to take over Sam was not Ezekiel. He let an unknown angel take over Sam's mind and body. And suddenly Dean's posture was similar, but much more angry. "Who is it?" He asked, desperate to know the answer, hoping it would somehow be reassuring. He was aware of Cas lifting his blade, though Dean wasn't willing to let himself think about it being used on his brother.
"I can explain." The other angel had his hands up very clearly now.
"I thought I knew all the angels in heaven. Who are you." Cas growled.
"It isn't what it-"
"Answer the question asshat." Dean took a step forward.
"Gadreel."
Dean furrowed his brow, turning to look again to Cas for his reaction but he was surprised as Cas moved forward at the angel. Castiel had Gadreel and therefore Sam against the wall, his hand around his throat.
"Cas?"
"It's why I've never seen him, he's been imprisoned since the dawn of time."
"What-"
"He was the sentry who allowed Lucifer into the garden." Cas was angry now, not just on guard but outright angry. "It's his fault, all of it. The corruption of man. Demons, hell. God left because of him. The archangels… the apocalypse… if he hadn't been so weak, none of it would have happened." He tightened his grip on Gadreel's throat, pulling him forward and smashing his head back against the wall again. "You ruined the universe you damn son of a bitch!"
"Cas, hey." Dean put one hand on his shoulder, holding him steady. He was terrified of what possible ill intent this angel might have, but he didn't want to see Cas hurt Sam in his blind anger. The angel in Sam still looked pretty beat up from his time with Malachi and Theo.
Cas seemed to snap back just a little, and he looked over his shoulder at Dean for a second before abruptly dropping the angel, stepping back just one step, the blade up and ready again.
Gadreel was very still, careful to make no movements whatsoever. "Yes, I lied…"
"Why?" Cas spat.
"I fell to earth with the rest of the angels… It was a fresh start." He turned to look at Dean. "When I heard your prayer, I saw an opportunity to do good."
"Why did you say you were Ezekiel?" Dean demanded.
"I have heard it said he is a good and an honorable angel."
"And not telling Sam?" the hunter didn't let his glare waver. "And demanding I throw Cas out of the bunker?"
"What I said was true. If Sam ejected me, he would not survive. And Castiel does draw the attention of the angels. Any angel would recognize they did not know me, endangering my life, and the life of your brother."
Cas lowered the blade, but did not let it drop completely. "Why should we believe anything you have to say?"
"I do not have a good reason to give you." Gadreel said slowly. "But I am telling the truth."
Dean looked between Gadreel and Cas, feeling himself relax slightly as he saw the slightest bit of tension leave Cas' shoulders. Cas believed him. "Sam would have been in less danger had you just been honest with us." Castiel said firmly.
"I see that now." Gadreel said softly. "For that, I am sorry."
Dean cleared his throat. "Alright, fine. Let's hash this out later. Crowley said you couldn't heal?"
"The damage Theo inflicted is vast. I am weakened from the work I was already doing to heal your brother. These wounds have proved too much for me to fix." Without the immediate threat to his life, Gadreel seemed to almost wilt, letting the wall behind him take some of his weight.
"And Sam?"
"Sam was knocked unconscious when he attempted to banish the angels. I took control. When Malachi ordered torture, I remained."
Dean felt a little more of the tension leave his own shoulders knowing Sam was spared the pain of torture. He knew his brother had vague memories of his time in hell, but they were detached and far between after Cas relieved the worst of them. He didn't need new fresh torture to bring him back.
"And if I heal you?" Cas asked.
"I have spoken to Sam. He is aware of the situation already." Gadreel said simply.
Dean winced. Sam knew now, and it didn't even come from him. "Cas, do it." He said simply.
Castiel hesitated. "Dean, are you sure?"
He looked Gadreel dead in the eyes. "Yeah. I think he knows that if he pulls any crap he'll be a dead man. Doesn't matter where he hides." Gadreel simply bowed his head in agreement.
Cas reached out, touching Sam's head, and the injuries glowed as they sealed themselves. Cas staggered slightly, weakened by the taxing amount of healing he had been doing in just the last hour. Dean instinctively grabbed his shoulders, holding him steady.
Gadreel looked them over. "I must retreat. I believe your brother will be fully healed within the next day or two, and I can take my leave."
Dean watched as the stiff posture of the angel fell away into Sam's more relaxed form. The older hunter's chest clenched as he watched the confusion melt away into a stern anger as his eyes met Dean's.
Dean swallowed, taking a deep breath. "Cas, grab your stuff. Crowley's outside waiting to take us back." He watched Sam turn, fists clenched for a moment before he walked over to the shelves, grabbing a couple of books he had intended to take back with him. He said nothing to Dean.
Cas hesitated for another minute before he turned and began picking up the bags he packed earlier. He scooped his mostly-naked cat into the small carrier. He walked into the bedroom to grab the last bag of his things. After a moment's thought, he grabbed Dean's as well, hearing the hunter walk out of the cabin.
Crowley looked up at the older Winchester, straightening up from where he was leaning against a post. "Trouble in paradise?"
"You drop us back at the bunker, and then you're cut loose." Dean said flatly. "And if I see you again-"
"Yeah yeah. You'll kill me. Love you too." He looked up watching the younger Winchester and Cas come out, arms full of stuff. He furrowed his brow, looking at the carrier in the angel's hands. "Is that… what the hell is that?"
"Paka." Cas said simply.
"Doesn't look like any cat I've ever seen." Crowley muttered. "Everyone good?"
No one spoke, but Crowley snapped his fingers and the group was standing outside their home base. The demon took a step back, spreading his arms wide. "And back to this side of the rainbow. If you'll forgive me, I have a kingdom to reclaim. Au revoir." Another blink and he was gone.
Dean looked back, seeing Sam already down and walking through the door of the bunker. He sprung into action, quickening his pace to try and catch up. He ducked through the door, starting down the stairs after him. "Sam wait-"
"What Dean? What do you want me to say? You lied to me. Again."
"Sam I didn't-"
"Yeah, you didn't have a choice. Or. Or you didn't think it through. Or whatever other bullshit excuse you have prepared this time. Save it." He slammed the books he was carrying down on the map table.
"You're right Sam. I lied. And yeah, I had a choice not to, but Ezekiel, or Gadreel, either way, he said that it was safer not to, and I believed him."
Cas finally made it to the bottom of the stairs. He tried to interrupt, to help in some way. "Sam he-"
"Shut up. Don't you dare defend him." Sam warned.
"Hey! Leave him out of this. This is between you and me." Dean said firmly. He looked up at Cas. "Go. Get the cat set up."
Cas looked for a moment like he might argue, but thought better of it. He moved past the brothers. He looked up when Kevin arrived in the doorway, and shook his head, warning the prophet to think better of interrupting them.
With one last look back, Kevin decided to heed that advice, and he followed the angel out.
Dean turned back to Sam.
"When were you even going to tell me? Were you even going to tell me?"
"Honestly? No." Dean crossed his arms, leaning back against the table. "Gadreel was going to finish fixing you up and then get the hell out of dodge, and I was going to consider that a done deal."
"You almost got me killed." Sam hissed.
Dean winced. "Sam…" The defensive tension he had in his shoulders melted. He looked away.
Sam paused, watching his brother, feeling the tiniest bit bad, but not allowing it to take root.
When Dean finally looked back, his face was awash in regret. "I know. And I'm sorry. For all of it. For going behind your back, for not telling you, for… for letting you get ripped away with those angels at the airport…"
Sam was finding it hard to hold onto the outright fury of just a few seconds ago, but the anger remained. "I was ready to die."
"You weren't. You did the trials, you could have finished, but you stopped… I asked and you stopped. Why was this different? What changed?"
Sam closed his eyes, the anger protecting him from needing to think through that answer. "That wasn't your decision to make."
"I know."
"Saying it isn't enough."
"I know that too." Dean's voice dropped even more. "Look, you don't have to understand. But you were dying, and I didn't know what else to do."
"It was my choice." Sam repeated softly.
"I couldn't let you go Sammy." Dean shook his head. "That's not in me."
Sam closed his eyes, unable to figure out what to say next.
Dean shifted, straightening up to stand. "You can be pissed at me, you can take a swing, whatever you need. You want me to go, I'll walk right out that door. But please… just let Gadreel finish his work before you kick him out."
"I'm not…" Sam sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted as the last spark of rage died out. "Yeah, I'm still pissed. But… don't leave or… do something stupid. I…" He closed his eyes, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know why you did it." He got it. On some level, he really did. "Just… leave me alone for a while. Let me sort through this shit."
"Sam…"
"I mean it Dean." He grabbed one of the books. "I need some space." He left for his room, cutting the conversation off.
Dean let him go before shakily pushing himself up and heading towards his own room. Glad to not have encountered anyone on his way, he closed the door behind him. He sank to the ground, feeling utterly drained, not even having the energy to cross the room towards his bed just yet.
His head spun as he tried to catch up to everything that had happened that day. It was only hours ago that he was sitting in the cabin getting his stitches taken out and expecting to start a long car ride home with his brother, the cat, and Cas…
Cas… Dean closed his eyes, drawing his knees up towards his chest. Absently he rubbed over his mouth with his hand, his mind trying and failing to process any sort of emotions about what happened in Malachi's interrogation room. He wasn't sure what happened… what possessed him to…
Dean abruptly forced himself up, unwilling to sit on the ground stewing in some sort of pity party like a teenage girl. He dragged himself over to sink down onto his bed. Catching up to his thoughts about the day's wild range of events could wait until tomorrow, had to wait until tomorrow, for his own sanity. Right now he had music and he had whiskey, and that's all he needed to focus on until he could forget.