When Cain was safely contained in the devil's trap, Crowley walked Dean to Sam and Cas before leaving for his position outside the barn.
Dean shifted his weight, fidgeting in his cuffs, clearly eager for a fight. "So, we gonna do this thing, or what?"
Sam swallowed. "We finish the wards, I bring you in, you get the blade at the edge of the devil's trap." He repeated the plan.
"You got it."
Sam looked at him, expression guarded. "Just don't get dead, okay?"
"Come on Sammy, have a little faith."
The younger hunter was quiet for a moment. He looked at Cas who gave him an attempt at a somewhat reassuring look. Sam turned back towards his brother. "We'll be outside."
"To stop whoever walks out of there. Yeah, got it." Dean stressed.
"Yeah, alright." Sam took a step back, grabbing the can of spray paint and putting it on a crate where Cas could reach it to finish the wards.
Dean watched Cas approach him for the first time since the cabin. "So." He started, a sly smile pulling at his lips. "Last night on earth. Has the policy about personal space changed?"
Cas pulled the hunter to him, adjusting to hold him around his restrained arms.
Dean paused for a second before he relaxed. He shifted to lean against him, his head resting sideways against Cas' for just a couple seconds.
"You better come out of this alive." Cas said gently.
"I'll do my best." Dean replied. He closed his eyes, taking a surprising comfort in the contact.
Cas pulled away slightly, just enough to rest his forehead against Dean's. He hesitated, fighting a small war with himself before he bridged the gap and allowed their lips to meet.
Dean blinked, taken by surprise, but he relaxed quickly, reveling in the moment. He frowned when Cas stepped back.
Sam walked up to them, looking to Dean. "You ready?"
"Let's do this."
The younger hunter nodded, feeling his pulse pick up speed. He reached out with one hand, getting a firm grip on the cuffs, his other hand wrapped tight around the first blade.
Dean allowed himself to be pulled through the doorway, Cas stepping forward and spraying the last line of the warding. The effect set in immediately.
Cain stood silently on the opposite end of the devil's trap, simply watching the pair approach, not making a move.
Once Sam was reasonably sure Cain was waiting out this entrance, he pushed Dean into the circle. Slipping the key from his pocket, he reached across to unlock the restraints. With one last wary glance at his brother, he lifted the first blade, flipping it handle first and handing it over.
Dean felt the power pulse through him when he wrapped his fingers around the hilt, a fire spreading under his skin from his arm to his heart, and a wave of euphoria washed through him. He whipped around to face Cain, standing his ground and mimicking the other knight's stillness.
Sam reluctantly backed away.
.
Castiel felt a sense of dread settle in as soon as Sam stepped back over the line. Watching the hunter close the door only deepened it.
He had convinced Sam they needed to leave them alone. With the unpredictability of the warding, they couldn't risk it going sideways, and beyond that, their distraction was a liability for Dean.
Still, he didn't have to like it.
"Are we doing the right thing?" Sam asked, looking at the closed door with a pained expression.
"Yes." Cas replied, trying to impart some reassurance. "We are doing the best we can with the choices we were given."
"Then why does it feel like I just sent my brother to his death, whichever way this fight turns out?"
"He can do this."
Sam closed his eyes, tilting his head back. "And what about after?"
"We worry about that after." Cas emphasized.
"Yeah." he replied weakly.
Cas moved away from the wards, giving himself a little space.
"I have some ideas." Sam started, trying to keep his mind off what was happening. "For making the cabin safer."
"Yes?"
"We could nail down some trim. Make a channel so the salt line can't be scuffed. Maybe salt the entire upper landing." He continued. He swallowed, hearing the fight begin in earnest. He couldn't hear what was being said, and couldn't make out what was happening. But he could hear enough.
"That sounds like a good plan." Cas said, carefully ignoring the sounds from behind the door.
"It'll at least help." He crossed his arms. "I still don't-"
"I know." Cas cut him off. "You're wrong though."
Sam took a steadying breath, before taking a few steps back and settling down to sit on one of the dusty crates. He was focused on the floor when he next spoke. "You're good for him."
Cas remained quiet, looking at Sam and waiting for him to continue.
"I mean all this demon stuff aside. He wouldn't have made it through being human again without you."
"He didn't." Cas pointed out.
"He came back after Eastham." Sam countered. "After everything that happened there, he came back. I don't think he would have been able to fight the mark as hard as he did without your help."
"He is stronger than either of you think."
Sam gave a sad smile. "I know." He sighed. "But even before that. You… I've never seen him happy like that. Proud sometimes… or even excited, but not… he's never found contentment like that his entire life."
"I at least tried."
"I'm serious, man." He said sincerely. "He's lucky to have you."
"And you."
"Yeah. All the support we can muster. I just hope we're enough."
"We will be." Cas said firmly.
Something inside Sam relaxed. "I don't like you staying, but I know why you are. I do think it will help."
"You'll find a way to get it off."
Sam adjusted his grip on his knife. "Kevin has a couple theories. With Charlie and Crowley helping with the translations…"
"We just have to get him through until then."
"I hope so." He winced as he heard his brother yell in the next room. He quelled the instinct to run in, hearing the fight continue. "I hate this."
"We can't be in there."
"I know but… I hate this." He leaned his head back. "What if he doesn't-"
"Cain will not win."
"You can't be sure of that."
"I am." He had faith. All his life before Dean, he blindly pledged faith to an uncaring father who had already turned his back on the world. That belief had been so completely severed and were it not for his found family, he never would have regained his footing. He never would have expected he would be able to trust someone so thoroughly again.
But Dean had that effect on people. He just had to look at Sam to know. At Kevin. At Charlie. Hell, even Crowley didn't seem entirely immune to his charm.
Cas frowned as he heard another similar shout from the hunter, this time giving way to a series of muffled grunts. He too had to repress a similar urge to rush in, to try to help in any way.
"I hate this." Sam muttered again.
It had been silent for over a minute before Cas gave him a nod.
Feeling the apprehension compress into a lead weight, Sam stood and slowly approached the barn door. He slid it open, careful to keep behind the barrier.
They found Dean still within the devil's trap in the center of the room.
Sam's breath hitched and Cas stood rigidly beside him.
Dean was soaked in blood. His arms and face were slicked with a heavy splatter, and it was seeping readily into his hair and clothes. The blade in his hand was entirely red, and dripping down onto the wooden floor below him.
Behind him, Cain was unrecognizable. It was clear Dean hadn't stopped when he killed him, not by a long shot. It was Abbadon all over again, but this time, Dean wasn't human, and there had been no one there to stop him.
The older hunter just stood there, eyes pure black, watching them with an almost detached curiosity.
"Dean?" Sam asked, forcing himself to appear calm as he crossed the threshold and cautiously walked towards the trap.
"Sam." The demon replied simply. He gave a wide grin and Sam felt a shudder down his spine. "I won."
"I see that." Sam said, tone measured.
"You're no fun." Dean continued with a mock pout.
For a minute they just stood there, neither of them so much as twitching. When Dean finally moved, Sam couldn't quite cover the flinch.
The older hunter meanwhile flipped the blade around, offering the hilt of the blade towards his brother.
Tentatively, Sam took the bloodied weapon from his hands, stepping back with it. He felt a small flood of relief that he hadn't had to fight to get it back. He turned and tossed it back to Cas who caught it with ease, holding it safely behind the second set of wards. He then pulled the handcuffs from his pocket.
Dean just stared at them for a long moment before finally raising his wrists and allowing Sam to secure him.
Sam kept a wary eye, but for the moment at least, Dean seemed compliant enough. He severed each set of warding as they walked, finally leading him up to where Cas stood. He looked to the angel. "I should tell them it's over."
"Go. I will stay with him." Cas nodded.
With one last look at Dean, the younger hunter turned and hurried out of the side door.
Dean just smiled. "Guess it wasn't my last night on earth after all."
Cas gave a brief nod, finding himself somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer amount of gore.
"Come now, Castiel. You've seen far worse."
"I have." Cas said, voice detached and impersonal.
"Oh don't be like that darling. You're breaking my heart." Dean purred in mocked sincerity.
Cas simply stood still, keeping his eye on Dean, making sure he didn't bolt for the doors, or lunge for an attack. He wasn't worried. With the cuffs on Dean, he was far stronger and faster and he trusted Dean knew that.
"I think we should celebrate." Dean continued, mouth settling into a smirk. "Wait till Sammy leaves, of course. Unless you're into that sort of thing."
"Enough, Dean."
"Lighten up, Cas. We won!" He took a step forward, bridging the gap and pressing up against him. "I think it merits a bit of fun."
Cas closed his eyes, feeling Dean's breath hot across his nose before the demon shifted and took his lips. He stepped back immediately, breaking contact and putting a hand out to create a bit of distance.
Dean growled, watching Cas with annoyance. Before he could say anything, Sam walked back into the barn, Crowley close behind.
"Come on. We're going back the quick way." Sam said, voice solid.
Cas did his best to ignore the streaks of blood left on his coat from where Dean had been a moment before. He was grateful Sam didn't seem to notice. "Charlie?" He asked.
"Taking the impala home." Sam said with a careful look sideways at Dean.
The older hunter showed no interest, the car low on his list of concerns right now.
After a minute, Sam nodded to Crowley. "Do it."
.
Dean stood still in the middle of the devils trap, arms crossed over his chest. He watched Cas and Sam set to work nailing trim and laying salt lines. He looked outside, seeing Crowley leaning against a fence post and looking bored.
Dean pulled his attention back as Sam walked towards the front of the cabin to lay new salt lines on the window sills. He cleared his throat. "Hey, can you do something about the door next? I'm sick of the drafts." He asked, his voice gruff.
Sam rounded on him, his expression hardening. "You don't get to make demands about this cabin."
Dean just looked at him. The slightest eye movement towards the door and then the angel communicated what he needed.
Sam frowned, his posture softening somewhat.
"Come on Sam, just this one."
The younger hunter nodded. "Fine." He kept his eye on Dean for a moment, contemplating his concern for Cas once more. He felt an unexpected pang of jealousy, keenly aware of the indifference Dean felt for him. It burnt out as quickly as it ignited, and he allowed himself to start moving again.
Dean was glad he didn't need to put up a fight. He watched Sam step outside and come back a moment later with a hammer and some nails. A tarp and blanket provided as much insulation and draft protection as he could manage without prior notice. He replaced the tools in the outdoor shed before coming back in and giving the place one final look.
Cas stepped down from the landing, crossing the room towards the pair. "It's fine, Sam." he said, gesturing around the cabin. "We'll be alright."
Sam held his breath for a second, looking at Cas carefully. "You sure?"
"Yes."
The younger hunter sighed. "Yeah, okay."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Do it already." He said, eager to be let out of the restrictive handcuffs.
With one last scowl at the demon, Sam walked to the door and finished off the last piece of the warding.
Cas steadied himself for a moment as he felt the oppressive wave settle in over the cabin.
Sam walked to Dean, carefully reaching over and unlocking him.
Dean rubbed his wrists absently, shifting his weight to his other foot as he looked at Sam. "Well, it's been nice having you, we'll see you soon."
Sam tried to ignore him, looking at Cas. "You check in every night." He instructed, voice leaving no room for argument. "You sure that's everything you guys need?"
"I am." Cas said, sure.
Sam sighed. "One phone call. We have Crowley, I can be here in a minute."
"I know Sam."
The younger hunter spared a careful glance at Dean before looking back. "I mean it."
"He gets it. Goodbye." Dean dismissed
Sam gave Cas one final nod. "Okay." He said softly, keeping eye contact with him for a moment, feeling one last push of uncertainty about leaving them there. But Cas had insisted, and he knew the angel wouldn't take no for an answer.
Reluctantly he spared another look at Dean, but he didn't have anything to say. The only thing he could do was hope. Hope and work fast to get that damn thing off.
The younger hunter turned and left, shutting the newly insulated door behind him.
As soon as he was out of sight, Dean casually walked out of the devil's trap, no resistance at all.
Cas looked at the ceiling in annoyance, having hoped it would take a little effort for him to break through. It only highlighted that he could have left at any time, and had simply been playing the part since the barn.
"Come now Castiel." Dean said, the corner of his lips curling up. "Why the sour face?"
Cas ignored the bait, choosing instead to walk to the landing, starting to rebuild the fire from the safer side of the two sided fireplace.
Dean followed and stood at the very edge of the salt line to the upper landing. He crossed his arms, waiting for Cas to finish.
The angel frowned as he got up, facing the hunter but not moving yet.
"Come on, Cas. I wasn't joking about celebrating."
"Dean."
"You want this as much as I do. I can see you holding back."
"On purpose."
"What purpose. Don't deny yourself this. Get out here."
"No."
"Cas-"
"No, Dean." Cas said firmly. "Step back."
Dean growled, turning and stalking across the cabin. He walked it off, choosing to loop back around towards the kitchen and then back towards the far window, showing no sign of slowing down.
Dean didn't stay still enough for Cas to get a proper look, but he could tell the hunter was still wired from the fight. The demon was unable to stand still, adrenaline crackling like electricity under his skin. He was chasing the euphoria of the blade, desperate as it started to leave him.
Cas swallowed. "We could make food." He suggested, knowing it was a pathetic idea. Still, it was the promise of something to do with his hands and something to eat after. They would forgo the knife of course…
"Yeah, we're done with domestics, Cas." Dean half snarled, throwing him a scathing glare.
Cas sighed, finally deciding to cross and sit on the leather chair. He was careful not to stare at Dean, but keep aware of where he was at all times. He wasn't going to take any chances.
"You should go get cleaned up." Cas suggested softly.
His suggestion went unacknowledged. Whatever blood he hadn't managed to halfheartedly wipe away earlier was now matted to his skin, and Cas did his best to ignore it.
It was hours before Dean started to crash. When Cas saw the demon's pace begin to at last slow down, he quietly stood and prepared two cups of coffee. He set one down in front of the couch without saying anything and settled back into his seat to drink his own.
Dean noticed the mug when he looked up. He stood still for a moment, considering before finally heading to the center of the room and flopping down on the couch.
As soon as he leaned back, his entire posture deflated. Cas watched as the nervous energy morphed into pure exhaustion, the last sparks dying out completely. He leaned his head back and adopted a complex expression that Cas couldn't quite read.
Neither of them said anything for almost ten minutes. Dean ended up breaking the silence. "I didn't think you'd come back." He admitted.
"I did."
"Sam couldn't have been happy about that." Dean's tone wasn't entirely hostile, but neither was it particularly friendly.
"Sam respected my decision."
"What makes you think this time will end any differently?"
"We've taken more precautions to lessen the risk. The salt lines. Making sure there were no weapons."
"Everything is a weapon. I could take the coffee machine and try to beat you to death with it." Dean paused, a muted flash of concern crossing his face. "Please don't take the coffee machine away."
Cas threw him a mild glare. "Why do you think it will end the same?"
"Because nothing has changed." Dean hissed. "Everything is the exact same."
"I know now." Cas said, but he frowned, watching Dean's posture begin to tense again, but this time in frustration. The slight tremor in his hands did not go unnoticed.
"We need to seriously talk about getting out of here."
"There is nowhere else we can go."
"Bullshit. There has to be somewhere else we can fucking go."
"There isn't." Cas said, tone flat.
Dean jumped to his feet again, fists clenching as he resumed his path back and forth across the cabin. It wasn't long before he stumbled though. Even as he righted himself, he looked unsteady. He came to stop in the middle of the room.
Cas finally got a chance to look at the hunter a little closer. His suggestions that Dean wash himself off remained ignored, but on further inspection, it was clear not all of that blood belonged to Cain. He didn't know why he hadn't noticed earlier. "Dean… you're not healing." He said, pushing himself up off the chair.
Dean distractedly looked down, noting the broken skin at the knuckles, but lost focus before he could check in with the rest of his body. "Oh." He said simply.
Cas furrowed his brow. "Dean?" He stepped in front of Dean, taking in his far off expression.
The demon blinked a few times, finally focusing on Cas and seeming surprised to find him so close. "What?" He asked, trying to mask it with annoyance.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, fine. Just got a little roughed up."
Cas reached up, fingers brushing the side of Dean's face, ghosting over the still bleeding gash across his cheekbone. If they weren't inside the wards he could heal it without a second thought. He resigned himself to having to do it the old fashioned way.
Dean flinched. "It'll heal eventually."
Castiel put a hand on Dean's shoulder, gently guiding the demon back and onto the couch again. "Stay here." He left, slipping into the bathroom and returning with a first aid kit and something to clean away some of the blood. He frowned, finding Dean just sitting there, still staring at nothing. Cas sank down on the edge of the couch next to him, grabbing the wet towel and wringing it out into the bowl.
Dean hissed as the damp cloth touched his knuckles, instinctively trying to pull away.
Cas caught his hand gently, pulling it back. He rested it palm down against his own, allowing himself room to work. He was relieved when Dean didn't struggle.
"It's fine." Dean tried to dismiss, wavering slightly.
Cas didn't look up. "Do you want to try that again without your voice breaking?"
Dean snapped back a little bit, glaring at the angel. "I'm fine." He ground out, firmly.
"All the same, these need tending." Cas replied, finishing getting the blood off and working on wrapping it. He wasn't sure how long it would be before Dean could heal, and he'd rather not take chances.
"I don't need you sitting here playing doctor." Dean muttered.
"Give me the other one." Cas said, ignoring him. He gently took his other hand, repeating the process. He worked in silence for a few moments, finally moving on to address a sizable gash in the demon's shoulder. "This one is going to need stitches."
Dean decided to say nothing.
Cas sighed, taking it as consent. He pushed back Dean's flannel, exposing the upper arm so he could reach the wound. "What happened in there?" He asked gently, careful to keep his eyes trained on his shoulder.
"I won."
"Before that. He must've talked to you."
Dean shrugged, ignoring the huff of annoyance when he disrupted Cas' careful ministrations. "Talked about the weather. You must be rubbing off on me."
"I doubt you would be so restless if you merely talked about the weather."
Dean scowled. "Oh what, you want to play therapist now too? Get me to open up?" He tilted his head with mock sincerity. "Let's do it properly then. Should we start in my teens? You want to hear about the time I was roofied at a party, or should we start with the eight years I serviced truck drivers in every backwater rest stop in America to put food on Sammy's motel table?" He gave an exaggerated frown. "I could go back further if you want."
Cas shifted uncomfortably, looking away for a second.
"Oh. Didn't like that, did you?"
"Turn your arm." Cas said instead, reaching out and guiding Dean to reposition his forearm. He carefully concealed his emotions, fighting to keep his face neutral.
Dean smirked. "You almost done?"
"You still have several injuries on your other shoulder and face." Cas said, cutting the thread like he had seen the Winchesters do dozens of times before.
"No, you're done." Dean said simply, pushing Cas' hand away and standing, resuming his previous path back and forth across the room.
Cas began packing everything into the box, watching Dean pacing from the corner of his eye. Wordlessly, he got up, walking the first aid kit back to the bathroom before stepping over the salt line on the upper landing. He turned his shoulder to the wall, leaning and watching Dean pace from a safe distance.
Dean didn't seem to notice his absence, still unable to sit still. "You can't keep ignoring me like this."
Cas got the sense he didn't mean right now. "I haven't been ignoring you."
"You've been miles apart from me since we got here. Even when you were asleep in my arms." He scowled. "Sam too. But I didn't expect it from you."
"You're not our Dean."
The demon ground to a halt, whipping around to face him. "I am though. You get that, right? I'm not possessed or replaced. I am Dean. And if you're actually hell bent on making this work, you have to stop treating me like I'm some stranger that you're waiting to leave so your boyfriend can come back. Because if you can't get this thing off, this is all you ever get."
"I know that."
"Then act like it."
Cas looked away, feeling a twinge of guilt, knowing Dean wasn't incorrect.
"We could work something out." Dean said suddenly. "I work for you. Put me to use, I can take on monsters for you. I'd be useful in a fight."
"You know we can't." Cas said, quietly. He noted the growing tremor in Dean's hands.
The demon snapped his attention to where Cas stood, body going rigid. He just stared for a moment. "Please." He said at last.
"This is temporary."
"What?"
Cas frowned. "You're starting to withdraw. It will fade."
Dean stayed still, absorbing what he was saying, and all it entailed. He let it fully sink in, settling like a weight in his stomach.
"Fuck."