Castiel blinked a few times, his eyes slow to adjust to the harsh morning light. He pulled himself upright, swinging his legs off the couch and onto the ground. He took a deep breath in, smelling the coffee. Turning his attention to the kitchen, he watched Dean pouring two mugs. "Power?"

"Came on about ten minutes ago."

Dean walked back over, putting a mug on the coffee table in front of Cas before sitting down in his own chair. He closed his eyes as he took his first sip, taking a moment to just breathe it in.

Cas smiled weakly. Some things hadn't changed with him. "When did the storm end?"

Dean opened his eyes again, looking up towards the windows. "Somewhere around three."

"I didn't expect sun."

Dean rolled his eyes, feeling an absurdity in talking about the weather. "Yeah." He was grateful for the rise in temperature through the morning. And yet, "You should rebuild that fire."

Cas watched him. "Are you suggesting or asking?"

Dean looked up, leveling a slow look of annoyance at him.

Cas decided not to argue. He set his mug down and began to stack the logs.

Dean meanwhile was browsing through the news on Cas' phone.

When Cas stood and turned around, he froze when he saw Dean. His hand immediately patted his now empty pocket. "What-?"

"Things on this side of the salt are fair game." Dean said passively without taking his attention off the device.

"Dean."

Growing bored of it anyway, he rolled his eyes, tossing it at Cas without warning.

The angel caught it and walked immediately back towards the bedroom, depositing it safely on its charger. He came back without it, tracking Dean to where he was now preparing some sort of breakfast.

"Hey, can you come light this stove?"

Cas sighed, but gathered the stuff anyway. When Cas was done he stepped aside, moving to top off his coffee.

Dean slid past Cas, leaning against and around him for a bowl from the drying rack.

Cas tensed, waiting until Dean moved back before bringing his coffee back to his lips.

"Loosen up Castiel."

The angel closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He moved over to the small table, opting to sit with his mug and stay out of Dean's way.

"You're no fun."

"Perhaps."

Dean let a small smile slip. He finished and plated the food, once more sinking down across the table. He focused on his food for a bit before speaking again. "Now that angels don't fly, is the sandbox the only entrance in and out of heaven?"

Cas frowned, looking at Dean carefully. "No." He decided to lie.

Dean nodded thoughtfully, studying him. Cas got the sinking suspicion Dean saw through it.

The demon merely looked back at his food. "Interesting."

Cas didn't react.

"You know, it's rude to lean your elbows on the table."

Still trying to puzzle out what all the questions were adding up to, he was only half paying attention. "Sorry." he said absently.

Dean just rolled his eyes, not moving from where he himself was leaning on his elbows. "Please tell me you have a plan for today?"

"I have two more volumes of this lesser alchemy study to work through. I believe you have jeopardy loaded on your computer from Charlie." Cas stood, walking his dishes over to the sink.

"I would rather we do something a little more fun." Dean followed the angel, coming up beside him and slipping his arm down around his lower back to grip his side.

Cas slowly but firmly pushed Dean away from him. "No." He replied flatly, attempting to get his point across.

Dean instead stepped up to him, putting a hand on his chin and turning him forward to steal a kiss. "Come on, I promise we won't break anything too structural."

Cas once again pushed him off. "I said, no." He turned back to run his plate under the sink.

Dean growled, walking away to sit back down at the table. He closed his eyes, letting the frustrated static enter and fizzle out in his mind.

Cas looked up when he heard the phone ringing from the other room. He placed the plate in the drying rack and headed into the bedroom, grabbing it just before it went to voicemail. "Sam."

"Hey Cas."

"Any luck?"

"Yeah, maybe." Sam said. "Kevin and Charlie translated a few more things. We think we have a better shot at cracking it." He was quiet for a minute. "Crowley came here, offering his help."

"Crowley?" Cas asked, voice dropping slightly.

"Wants protection from Dean as a demon. I can't tell if he's afraid or if he is sort of attached to him. Dean seems to have made an impression on him in their time together."

"I see." Cas said. "Did you accept his offer?"

Sam sighed. "He's cuffed and locked down, but yeah. I think we're going to need him on this." He shook his head. "I mostly called to make sure you guys weathered the storm alright."

"Yeah, we're fine. Lost power for a while, but it's back now."

"Alright. Good."

"Sam," He paused. "Just be careful."

"Yeah. We will. I'll let you know if we have any breakthroughs."

"Alright." Cas replied.

"Talk to you later."

.

Sam opened the door to 7b, pulling aside the file shelves and looking at the restrained king of hell.

"Is all this really necessary?" Crowley asked, unimpressed.

"That's the deal. You get locked down when you aren't helping. And at the end of all this you get out of here once and for all."

"Yes yes, fine." Crowley grumbled as he was unchained from the desk, cuffs left intact. "Whatever helps you sleep easier."

Sam just turned and walked back the way he had come. When the pair entered the library, Kevin was pulling down books while Charlie worked at decoding more of the angel talk from the prophet's notes. "Where are we at?"

Kevin came back to the table, throwing a book in its center. "The tablet at one point calls it a celestial brand." He hesitated. "Either that or a key."

"Or a flower." Charlie supplied.

The prophet scowled. "The translation is wonky, but we're pretty sure it's a brand."

Sam nodded. "Celestial as in... archangel grace, right?"

"I'm not completely sure, but I don't think so. Or at least not entirely." Kevin pointed to his notes. "I think it might have been touched by God at some point."

"God." Sam repeated, tone somewhat incredulous.

"Like I said, the translation is rough, but I think so."

Charlie leaned back. "We got to thinking that maybe that was the key. We started looking for any books the men of letters had on binding the old gods."

"Like-?"

She began neatening up the mess of papers in front of her. "Like the gods who used to be almost all powerful but now are sort of depleted."

Kevin tapped the book. "We found a passage in a notebook that referred to a book. They used a spell from it to unbind Hera, uh a Greek goddess. They broke a curse on her in exchange for her help in some mission."

Sam looked at the faded cover of the book on the table. "And you found the book?"

"Yeah, but we have a problem." He flipped it open. "I have no idea what language this even is." He glared at Crowley. "Can you read this?"

The king of hell glanced at the page in front of him. "Pumpokol."

Charlie tossed her notebook on the table. "You absolutely just made that up."

"A Yeniseian language. Extinct mid 1700s if I recall?" He pulled the book over to him. "And yes, I can read it."

"Awesome." Kevin muttered, glad he could help but annoyed they needed him to.

Sam's phone rang and he checked the caller ID before picking up and flipping it on speakerphone. "Rudy?"

"Sam, you gotta turn on the news. Shopping mall in Kansas city."

Charlie reached for her laptop.

"What is it?"

"Some demon just tore through a mall, must've killed thirty people. After the footage from Eastham, it got a lot of press."

Charlie pulled up the news. The various phone-recorded footage of the attack was playing on a loop.

Crowley raised his eyebrows. "Well I'll be damned. Again."

Sam's breath caught in his chest. "Cain."

.

Dean spent most of the afternoon feeling restless. He kept switching between being on his computer and reading. Twice now he had gotten up and simply walked around the cabin, just to get moving.

He had sat in the chair by the fireplace as well as the tables both near the wall and the kitchen. He had tried at one point to sit on the couch, but Cas had pushed him off both times he attempted contact.

Right now he was distractedly flipping through a magazine in the rickety wooden chair near the door.

Cas had watched him move from place to place, activity to activity. He wasn't really sure what to do. Looking at the time, he decided it might be a good idea to try and give Dean something to focus on. "Dinner?" He asked.

Dean jumped slightly, looking up at him. He glanced up at the clock and nodded. "God, yes." He said, flinching. He all but tossed the magazine aside, stretching and walking towards the kitchen.

Cas gathered the wood and lit the stove, getting it ready for whatever it is Dean was planning. "What tonight?"

"I was thinking a nice glazed steak. Some roasted potatoes maybe." He gave a half grin. "Caramelized onions if we're feeling daring."

Cas furrowed his brow, unsure what danger could be involved in caramelizing onions. He decided not to ask.

"Get started on the cutting board, you've got a lot of work ahead of you."

The angel slipped into the other room, grabbing the lock box and bringing it out to the counter. He laid out the cutting board between the sink and fridge, waiting for Dean to hand him whatever it was he wanted cut up first.

Dean rolled three onions across the counter to him. "Let's start with these. They're going to take the longest to cook. Thin slices"

"We need this much?"

"They cook down." Dean said absently, setting to work on other things. He put a few potatoes next to Cas. "And these when you're done. One inch cubes."

"Alright."

"Now, the question is, are you human enough you cry?" Dean asked, amusement working its way into his tone as he watched the angel begin to slice the onions.

"I am not particularly human." Cas said simply.

"Of course." He frowned, walking over to the fridge, looking inside for a moment. He had to dig before he came up with the small half jar of bacon grease. Even those few seconds of searching felt like an eternity, and he had to shake his head slightly to get his focus back.

He walked back to the oven, putting a generous amount into the warming pan. He watched it begin to slowly melt and slide around the bottom. He glanced up at Cas. "No, it needs to be thinner." He said, reigning in his tone at the last second.

Cas frowned, picking up on the frustration in spite of Dean's best effort. He began slicing them more narrowly.

Dean pulled out the steaks to warm up a bit before they'd get thrown in a pan. He opened the cabinet that held the spices, beginning to search for the rosemary. He had turned every single spice in the cabinet, and came up empty. "Damn it."

"What?"

"We had rosemary yesterday. Where the fuck is it." He hissed, ripping through the stash in the cabinet again, none too gently.

"It's on the counter." Cas said. He nodded towards the forgotten jar. "In front of you."

Dean looked down, and indeed it was right in front of him. He glared at it for a second before shoving it next to him for the potatoes.

Cas watched him from the corner of his eye. "Perhaps we should discuss things we can do."

"What are you talking about?" Dean snapped.

"I just mean, you've been growing more restless. There has to be something more we can do."

"Of course I'm fucking restless. I'm in a damn cage. Even war criminals get fucking yard time."

Cas sighed. "I'm sorry we can't let you outside."

Dean gripped the counter, riding out another wave of static building in his mind. "Yeah, everybody is so sorry." He mocked bitterly. "That's a great help."

"Dean, you know why you cannot leave." Cas said firmly.

"Yes, Castiel. I am aware that you're afraid of all the little innocent people I could slaughter."

"Hopefully it is only temporary. Sam believes they have a couple of new leads."

Dean slapped the counter with his palm. "Yeah, which might lead to another clue that might lead to another clue that might lead to a dead end."

"Things take time." Cas replied, keeping his voice even. "You need to have patience."

"Fuck patience." The demon replied through gritted teeth.

Cas finished chopping. He set the knife aside, picking up the cutting board and walking it over to the stove. He began slowly pushing the onions off into the searing oil. "Well I'm sorry." He repeated.

"Castiel." Dean growled.

"You'll just have to deal."

A sudden silence fell onto the room and Cas felt his stomach drop. Something clicked into place and a warning bell went off in the back of his head. He looked up.

He saw the moment the tension snapped at the same time he noticed his grave mistake. He only had a split second to plan. He threw himself sideways right as Dean grabbed the knife from the counter. The demon lunged at him, blade first, cutting straight across the angel's torso, neatly slicing up his chest, blood instantly soaking his clothes and the ground. Cas scrambled sideways again, pulling himself to his feet and running towards the hunter. He managed to push him around and attempted to pin his arms to his side.

Dean threw his head backwards into Cas' stunning him for long enough to push him off and swing again. Cas cried out as the knife slid up over his face, splitting a path through his cheek and across his nose and forehead, just barely missing the eye.

"Dean-" He shouted, trying to break through to him, though he didn't have much hope that he could. He barely dodged another swipe of the knife, crashing back against the cabinets. He forced himself again to his feet, and dove forward, ignoring the blade cutting into his hands as he started to wrestle for the knife. He gripped hard enough to crush the demon's fingers, wrenching them and managing to pry it free, finally able to throw it as far as he could.

Dean took the opportunity to grab onto the angel's neck and pull him towards himself before smashing his back down against the counter edge, eliciting another cry of pain. He heard Dean's dying plea echo through the ringing in his ears. You promise me...you don't lose control... you don't let me hurt you.

Cas struggled to twist away from Dean's grip, managing to catch Dean in the chest with his fist hard enough he felt the ribs crack. He didn't manage to pull back before Dean had his arm. The hunter expertly pulled it out and twisted at the same time, breaking it at the elbow and dislocating it at the wrist. This time he didn't let go, instead holding it as an anchor to pin him down and let him throw his other fist at the battered seraph's face.

"Dean… please…" he mumbled, blood sputtering and falling from the corner of his mouth as he talked. "This is the mark… " His head cracked back as he met the hunter's knuckles again. "It's me…" He coughed, pushing himself to look up at Dean. His mind flashed back to hearing Dean plead these same words in Lucifer's crypt with a familiar pang of regret. "You have to fight it…"

Dean hesitated slightly, something in his expression slowing him down, and he held his position, fist raised.

"Dean… I know you're in there…I need you…" He swallowed. "...I love you." He met the demon's gaze as he blinked, his eyes fading from the deep black to his normal green for a second. He didn't drop Cas' hand but his grip relaxed just a touch.

Cas didn't hesitate. He threw his weight back against the cabinet and floor, kicking out with his legs, knocking Dean clean across the kitchen. He turned over, scrambling to his feet, running towards the bedroom. He was almost to the door frame when he felt the hunter's weight crash into him, knocking him prone. He felt himself pulled by his ankle back towards Dean. He slapped his injured hand around the door jamb, his bruised and fractured fingers closing on the small canvas bag, managing to drag it with him. He thrust his good hand into it, closing around the handgun and pulling it out in one smooth motion. Just as Dean roughly grabbed his shirt to yank him up, Cas fired the gun into his head.

Dean dropped, his body hitting the ground hard. The hunter tensed and contorted slightly under the effect of the devil's trap on the bullet.

Cas knew it wouldn't last long, and he swung himself back over, pushing himself forward desperately for the back room. He crashed through the doorway, slamming the door shut behind him before he whipped around, grabbing the rounded container and hastily fixing the newly destroyed barrier.

He scooted back across the floor, unable to get to his feet yet, his chest heaving as he looked back at the closed door, trying in vain to catch his thoughts up to what just happened. He held his broken arm to his chest, feeling the blood still running down his chest and face. He felt his heart racing and his vision began to swim as the adrenaline came to a head and started to dissipate.

He turned and spit out a mouthful of blood before allowing himself to slide further down the wall, having no choice but let the floor support him as he started to lose his battle with consciousness. He heard the footsteps and looked sideways across the floor to watch the shadow walk slowly up to the door. He tensed as Dean stood there for a moment before turning and walking away.

Cas gasped a few last times, finally unable to fight off the encroaching darkness. With one last deep breath he neatly passed out on the ground.