Author's Note: So, I'm not a huge fan of this chapter, but you guys have been waiting long enough for an update, so here it is! Sorry the updates have been taking so long. I've been spending a lot of time on my book. But I haven't forgotten about my fanfictions, and you guys are always in my mind! I hope you like this chapter! Enjoy!

Castiel lifted an arm to shield his face from the shower of sparks spewing from the clay bowl at the center of the table, lips pulling back as he ground out a less-than-angelic word to describe his frustration.

"Yikes." Balthazar chuckled from where he stood on the other side of the table. "You must really be put out by this. I didn't think you knew how to swear, Cassie."

Castiel frowned, feeling largely indignant and a little caught off-guard. "I know how to swear."

Balthazar arched a brow, disbelief etched onto his features. "Sure you do."

"I do," Castiel insisted. "I just did it, so clearly, I know how."

Balthazar rolled his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. "Uh-huh. Not the point, anyway. The point is, you're being even more uptight than usual, and it's not like you to get angry."

Castiel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know." He dropped his hand, grabbing the clay bowl from the table.

Balthazar watched Castiel with expectant eyes, his eyebrows slowly raising. "So… are you going to tell me what's wrong, or are you just going to keep swearing at failed rituals?"

Castiel gave Balthazar a dirty look, but it didn't last very long. Instead, he uttered another sigh and put the bowl back on the table. "This is my fault. I should have told them the truth about Heaven's plans. I created this mess, and now it seems I can't do anything to fix it."

Balthazar held his hands up slightly. "Woah, Cas, slow down. We're tracking an archangel; it's gonna take some time. We've only been at this for three weeks."

Castiel only shook his head, his expression betraying his grim outlook. "Every week that passes without success is another week Liam is displaced. Sam and Dean may have found a home base to return to for therapy sessions, but their situation forces them to always be on the move."

"Liam," Balthazar echoed, reaching up to tap his chin. "That's the little redheaded ankle biter, isn't it?"

Castiel blinked, thoroughly confused. "He doesn't bite ankles."

Balthazar rolled his eyes. "He's the kid. Right?"

Castiel nodded. "Right."

Balthazar shrugged his shoulders, unperturbed by Castiel's concerns. "Maybe the kid likes to travel around. Might be fun for him." He shrugged again. "You never know."

Castiel considered the idea for a moment, and he had to admit that Liam did seem to enjoy traveling, but still…

"Running from angels and traveling for enjoyment are two very different things." Castiel looked down at the table for a moment, and then he lifted his gaze to look at Balthazar again. "Besides, Liam has been through enough, and that was true even before he was a Winchester."

Balthazar chuckled. "I figured the kid had to have a pretty rocky past to get mixed up with the Winchester family." He reached out and grabbed the spell book they had left open on the table. "So, you're feeling guilty and you want an easier life for the kid. I get that. How about we stop talking about feelings and try another one of these rituals, then?"

Castiel scowled, narrowing his eyes. "You're the one who asked."

"You're the one who swore," Balthazar retorted simply.

Castiel glared for another moment, and then his brain started down a different track. He reached out and took the spell book from Balthazar, using his finger to hold the page while he leafed through the rituals they had already tried.

"This is a book you stole from Heaven, correct?" Castiel asked.

Balthazar gave him a curious look. "Yeah, that's right. It's how I found you."

Castiel considered the book for a moment more, and then he went back to the page he had held. "Do you think there are more books like this in Heaven?"

Balthazar pursed his lips and nodded. "It would make sense. Heaven's archives are vast; there's no telling what all is in there."

Castiel lifted his gaze from the book and looked at Balthazar. "If these rituals don't work, our best bet is going to be a trip to Heaven."

Balthazar winced, sucking air through his teeth. "Yeah, I was afraid you were going to say that." He ran a hand through his hair. "Well, it can't be helped. If we've got to steal some books, we've got to steal some books."

Castiel nodded affirmatively, handing the book back to Balthazar. "Glad to hear you're prepared to make the necessary moves."

Balthazar took the book with a less-than-pleased expression on his face. "I told you, mate. I don't want this apocalyptic meltdown. I want to continue enjoying life on Earth."

Castiel arched a brow slightly. "You won't be enjoying life on Earth if you're dead."

"Eh." Balthazar shrugged. "Some risks are worth taking." He set the book down on the table and pointed to the first ingredient. "Let's get started. Looks like this one is gonna need some myrrh."

Castiel nodded. "I'll get it. Are you going to stay here?"

Balthazar shook his head, folding the corner of the page he was on and closing the book. "We've been here too long. I'll clean up here and then go to Los Angeles."

Castiel nodded again. "Alright. I'll be in Ethiopia if you need me."

With that, Castiel took flight, leaving the dingy warehouse behind. He set his eyes ahead, pushing back the sting of failure and focusing on what he could do to make progress. Because, one way or another, they were going to stop the apocalypse. Of that, Castiel was certain.

Liam was swimming.

Not literally, but his brain felt like it was submerged in Jell-O, and the world was rocking under his feet. He couldn't breathe or swallow, his throat closed up and dry as a desert. He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, and he did his best to hold them back, but he didn't know how much he would be able to do in the state he was in.

No. You're fine. Everything's fine. Just breathe.

But he couldn't breathe. He could still see her—the heavily pregnant woman ahead of them in line—and as long as he could see her, he could remember. And he didn't want to avert his eyes to look at Dean or Sam, because he was afraid they would see the panic he was trying to hide.

Just don't think about it. Don't think about it.

He looked at the floor, inhaling deeply through his nose, and he tried to maintain control. He tried to keep his breathing steady, and he tried to calm the pounding in his chest, and he tried to get his mind to think of other things. He tried.

"Liam?"

Oh, no.

Liam inhaled slowly, not looking at Sam. "I'm okay," he said softly, his jaw clenched tight.

Sam's voice, ever gentle and open-minded, came again. "You don't look okay."

Liam almost looked at Sam, but he quickly decided that would lead to disaster. He took another breath and let it out, shaking his head. "I don't want to talk about it." But he knew Sam wouldn't accept that. "Just—just wait until we get to the car."

"Okay," Sam said cautiously.

Liam clenched his fists at his sides, watching Sam and Dean's lower bodies in his peripheral vision. They were buying clothes for him because he was outgrowing his. They were walking up to the counter to pay, and the pregnant woman was walking away with two little ones in tow.

Don't think about it.

Liam tensed up when he felt a hand on his back, but he quickly relaxed when he realized it was Sam. He tried to ground himself with the physical contact, hoping it wouldn't do anything to send him further over the edge.

It's okay. I'm with Sam and Dean. It's okay.

Liam blinked a few times, staring at his feet and trying to clear his head. Black spots danced around the edges of his vision, and he swayed a bit as his balance faltered. He kept breathing, but the inhales became shallower, and he didn't feel like he was taking in oxygen.

I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

Liam felt Sam's hand slide from his back to his shoulder, and then Liam felt a squeeze. He reached up and grabbed Sam's hand, pressing it into his shoulder, gripping it tightly. He shuddered, trying to inhale and feeling hot, stuffy air go into his throat.

I can't breathe.

Liam felt Sam pull on his shoulder, and after a few seconds, he realized they were leaving the store. He followed Sam's tugging, keeping his eyes down and focusing on breathing. He watched the tiles under his feet change to a concrete sidewalk, and then he watched the concrete change to blacktop.

We're out of the store. We're gonna hit the road, and I won't have to think about it. It's okay. Everything's okay.

They got to Baby, and Liam quickly crawled in the backseat. He got a sick, sinking feeling in his stomach when Sam crawled in after him with an expectant look on his face.

I don't want to talk about it. But Liam had known from the moment he started panicking that he wouldn't be able to wriggle out of a confrontation. I don't want to talk about it.

"Liam?" Sam put his hand on Liam's arm and gave it a little squeeze. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

Liam grabbed Sam's hand and shook his head adamantly, hoping against hope that Sam would just let the topic die.

Sam pursed his lips and watched Liam carefully, hazel eyes alight with questions and concerns. "Okay… can I get a general idea of what's bothering you?"

Liam almost shook his head again, but then he decided he could answer truthfully without hurting himself. He took a shaky breath and tried to calm down, still clutching Sam's hand.

"It's just… bad memories."

Sam nodded understandingly, giving Liam's shoulder another squeeze. "Okay. Did Dean or I do something to trigger these bad memories?"

Liam shook his head rapidly. "No. You—you didn't do anything wrong." He pressed his free hand to his forehead, feeling the heat coming off his skin. "I just—I just saw something."

Sam nodded again, rubbing Liam's upper arm. "Liam, I…" Sam paused and took a breath, looking like he wasn't quite sure what to say. "I know it can sometimes be hard to talk about things that have hurt us, but it really is the best thing to do. It's the best way to start dealing with it and start healing."

Liam looked at Sam with pleading eyes, chewing on his bottom lip and hoping Sam would let it go.

Sam took a breath and let it out, seeming to struggle with himself for a moment, and then he pulled Liam into a hug. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but please think about it. For me, okay?"

Liam returned the hug, struggling to breathe in, and he nodded his head against Sam's chest. "I'll think about it. I promise."

"Do you want me to stay in the back with you?" Sam asked just as Dean got in the driver's seat.

Liam shook his head and ended the hug with a final squeeze before pulling back and wiping the corners of his eyes. "I'll be okay."

Sam gave him an uncertain look, like he wasn't sure if he could believe Liam was really okay. "If you change your mind, just let me know." Then he gave Liam a kiss on the forehead and got out of the car.

"You sure you're okay?" Dean asked, turning around in his seat to see Liam.

Liam still felt like he couldn't breathe, but he nodded anyway. "I'm okay, Dee."

Dean gave him a long, hard stare, but in the end he accepted the words with a nod.

Liam flashed a weak smile and then looked down at his lap, fighting back the memories threatening to come to the surface. It had been a while since he fought with these particular images; last time, he had been trying to find his way back home after Castiel dropped him in a cabin in the middle of the woods. He had talked to his grandfather's ghost at the time, and he couldn't help but wonder if talking to the other members of his family would help in the same way.

I don't want to talk about it. Liam wrapped his arms over his stomach and looked down at his lap, trying to get his breathing under control. He inhaled deeply, and then he tried to exhale slowly, but the air came out in a rush. He took another breath and tried again, but the same thing happened.

"Liam, you need to calm down." Sam turned around as much as he could in the passenger seat and put a hand on Liam's knee. "Breathe in," he ordered, right before doing it himself.

Liam did the same, sucking down a lungful of air.

"Now, breathe out." Sam did it, too, letting out a long stream of air.

Liam tried to copy Sam, but the air once again burst from his lungs. He tried, but he was just too anxious, skirting around the edge of a panic attack.

"Liam, look at me." Sam gave Liam a little shake. "Look at me, Liam."

Liam lifted his head and looked at Sam, tears stinging the corners of his eyes.

"Good job." Sam smiled and squeezed Liam's leg. "Now, breathe in."

They both breathed in.

"And breathe out."

They both breathed out, and Liam was able to go a little slower than before. Then they did it again, and it got a little easier, and then they did it again. They kept doing it, over and over, until Liam was breathing normally, and once that was done, Sam stopped instructing him. Sam turned back around in his seat, still keeping a watchful eye on Liam, and Liam was face to face with the memories again.

Liam grit his teeth, still breathing slowly and steadily. He tried to push the thoughts out of his mind, but the more effort he put into being rid of them, the more adamantly they forced their way into his brain.

"It's about Timmy," Liam finally said, pulling his legs up onto the backseat with him.

"Timmy?" Sam echoed, turning in his seat and looking at Liam. "Who's Timmy?"

Liam wet his lips and took a deep breath. "Timmy was… he was my friend, back at the group home." He exhaled slowly. "His mom used to say she wished she had aborted him… and the kids at the home would make fun of him about that… and about other things."

Sam didn't say anything right away, but it was clear from the look on his face that he was listening intently. Dean didn't say anything, either, and his gaze was on the road, but every now and then he would look in the rearview mirror.

Liam chewed on his lip for a moment, and then he cautiously started to talk. "He went on a home pass one day, and… well, I don't know what happened, but it must have been bad."

Sam's brow creased with concern, and he tilted his head slightly. "What happened?"

"He jumped off the building." Liam felt a shudder run through him. "He just… jumped."

Dean gave Sam a worried look but didn't say anything, and Sam looked thoughtful for a moment.

"What happened to make you think about Timmy again?" Sam asked with gentle eyes.

"That pregnant lady." Liam dropped his gaze down to his lap. "It doesn't always happen, but… pregnancy and abortion sometimes make me react really badly."

Sam pursed his lips and nodded a few times, still wearing that deeply thoughtful expression. "I see. Have you thought about mentioning this to your therapist? Or any other therapist that you had before?"

Liam immediately shook his head, pushing himself back into the seat. "No. I don't want to talk about it. They'll just make me go over all the horrible details and ask me questions about how I feel, and I don't want that."

Sam nodded again, but he didn't seem ready to give up on the idea completely. "What if you told your therapist that you don't want to talk about the horrible details?"

Liam shook his head again, slightly less insistent than before. "No. I don't trust it."

Dean spoke up then, looking in the rearview mirror. "Maybe one of us can go in with you and talk to the therapist for you."

Sam nodded along with Dean's suggestion. "That was going to be my next idea."

"Well…" Liam chewed on his lip, squirming in place for a moment. "I don't know… I don't know my therapist that well yet. She might not like it."

Sam held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Hey, I'm not going to force you to tell your therapist. If you want to wait a while, get to know her a little better, that's fine with me. I just want to make sure you take care of this so it doesn't hurt you so much."

Liam let out a soft sigh and hung his head. "I know. I'm sorry."

Sam shook his head. "I don't want you to apologize, Lee." He smiled softly. "I just want you to do what's necessary to make you feel better. Okay?"

Liam stared down at his lap, thinking over what Sam had said. He couldn't deny that the two times he had talked about Timmy had done something to his brain. What exactly that was, he didn't know, but it made him feel… something. It sort of felt like cracking a can of soda open and letting some of the fizz out. Maybe, if his new therapist proved trustworthy, he could tell her a bit about Timmy. Maybe.

"Liam?"

Startling, Liam pulled himself from his thoughts and put his feet back on the floor. "Sorry. I heard you. I was just thinking."

Sam smiled. "Okay." He watched Liam carefully, a faint note of suspicion in his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't want to talk about anything?"

"I'm okay." Liam shifted in his seat. "I might talk, but… not right now."

"Okay." Sam reached out and tousled Liam's hair. "I love you, buddy."

Liam felt a little smile pull on the corner of his mouth. "Love you, too, Sorize."

Sam turned around to face the front of the car, and a somewhat easy silence settled over the vehicle. Dean still glanced in the rearview mirror from time to time, keeping an eye on his nephew, and Liam could feel a tingling on his scalp where Sam's fingers had been.

How Liam wound up with such a wonderful family, he didn't know, but if there were angels, then maybe there was a God. And if there was a God, then maybe He had been the one to put Sam in Liam's path. Maybe He was the reason Liam had a family that loved him unconditionally, or the reason Liam had a family that accepted him as he was. No matter how turbulent it got, there was always a life vest strapped onto him, keeping his head above water.

And Liam thanked God for that.

Sam opened his eyes, confusion clouding his mind as he took in the sight of their darkened motel room. He didn't need to use the bathroom, and his brain wasn't foggy with the aftermath of a dream, so what had woken him up?

Sam slowly sat up and looked to his left, where Liam should have been sleeping, but that half of the bed was empty. Frowning, Sam looked to his right, but the bed Dean had been sleeping in was also vacant.

Where did they go? Slipping his legs out from under the blankets, Sam stood up and shuffled over to the motel room door. He grabbed the handle and tried to turn it, but it wouldn't budge. You can't lock someone in a motel room. Something's not—

"Boo."

Sam whirled on the spot, hazel eyes immediately landing on a figure shrouded by the darkness. He saw the figure move, and then heard the snapping of fingers, light flooding the room. His eyes took no time to adjust; another clue that he wasn't in the real world.

"Lucifer."

Lucifer pushed himself off the wall and lifted his hand in a wave. "Hello, Sam."

"What are you doing here?" Sam demanded, meeting Lucifer's gaze unwaveringly.

Lucifer scoffed. "You didn't really think you'd seen the last of me, did you?"

Sam forced an air of nonchalance, reminding himself that Lucifer had no idea where he was. "Well, there's no real reason for you to keep showing up. My answer is still 'no.'"

Humming thoughtfully, Lucifer started to approach Sam. "You know, I've been snooping around, and I've found something I think can change your mind." He stopped just a few feet away, a sadistic thrill in his eyes. "Something a little on the short side, with red hair and blue eyes and an absolutely adorable face."

Sam felt his heart stop beating in his chest. "I don't know what you're talking about." It was the first thing that came to his mind, even though he assumed it was pointless.

"Yes, you do," Lucifer sang, wagging a finger in Sam's face. "Don't lie to me. You've got a little tagalong, and I think you'd do quite a lot to keep him out of harm's way."

Sam forced himself not to back away, trying to maintain the upper hand. "You have no idea where I am."

"Not yet," Lucifer conceded, not sounding concerned in the slightest. "But I will. You can't hide from me forever, and when I find you, I know exactly who I'm coming for."

Swallowing, Sam racked his brain for something—anything—he could say to deter or dissuade the Devil. He came up blank, his heart hammering in his chest so loud he was afraid Lucifer could hear it.

"Now, I'm going to wake you up, and when I do, you and your brother are going to put your heads together and come up with a plan to keep me away. But, while you do, I just want you to remember that I always get what I want eventually." Lucifer chuckled. "I'm a very patient person, and you're going to mess up. You're going to make a mistake, and when you do, I'm going to be right there, waiting for you."

Sam stood, frozen in place, trying to speak but finding himself unable to move.

"Now," Lucifer started, lifting his hand until it was right in front of Sam's face. "Wake up!"

Lucifer snapped.

Sam gasped and sat straight up in bed, panic thundering through his veins. He looked to his left and saw Liam curled up next to him, sound asleep and hugging a pillow to his chest. Sam looked to the right and saw Dean, also sound asleep, with the sheets half kicked off his body.

Sam carefully slid out of bed, so as not to wake Liam, and then rushed to the second bed. He grabbed Dean by the shoulders and shook him, whispering in the darkness.

"Dean." Sam shook a little harder. "Dean, wake up."

Dean jerked and inhaled sharply, looking around with a slurred, "Huh?"

"It's me." Sam let go of Dean and straightened up, running a hand through his messy hair. "I had another dream with Lucifer in it."

Sitting up, Dean rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. "I take it you can't sleep?"

"It's not that." Sam kept his voice low, but he started to pace, unable to shake the feelings of utter helplessness that Lucifer had impressed on him. "He knew about Liam."

Dean shook his head. "Wait, what?" He blinked a few times to clear away the sleep. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know." Still pacing, Sam ran another hand through his hair. "I don't know, but he did. Someone must be reporting back to him."

Dean sat up a little straighter, scooting to the edge of the bed and putting his feet on the floor. "Okay, well—If someone were reporting back to him about Liam, that would mean they know where we are, which means Lucifer would be here already. He's not, so this must be old info."

Sam actually felt the tempest in his brain calm a little at that. "Okay, so…" He took a deep breath and stopped pacing. "Ruby would have known about Liam, but she said that only Lilith knew about her role, and we killed both of them before Lucifer was topside. What does that mean?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. "There had to be more demons who knew about Liam. Alistair would have known, and you might have killed him before Lucifer got out, but he had underlings. There had to be a chain of command somewhere, and someone had to know about Liam." Dean took a quick look over at the sleeping topic of conversation, and then he looked back at Sam. "What else did he say?"

Sam thought back over the conversation, but he shook his head, not recalling anything helpful. "He just said he would get what he wanted eventually. He said I was going to make a mistake, and that he would be waiting when I did."

Dean swore under his breath. "Every time I think we're finally in the clear…" He stopped, green eyes thoughtful. "Do you think we should call Cas? Maybe he can—"

"Wait." Sam started pacing again, a slight furrow in his brow. "He said you and I would put our heads together. He didn't say anything about Castiel. Or Balthazar."

Dean started to nod. "Okay, that's good. That confirms the idea that his information is outdated." Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, Dean unlocked his screen and pulled up his contacts. "So, first order of business: do something he won't expect."

Sam looked over at Liam, who was still asleep in the bed, and then he looked back at Dean. "What's Castiel going to be able to do?"

Dean gave Sam a look of frustration, the phone dialing in his hand. "I don't know, but it's worth a shot. He already said he could try some things to keep Lucifer out of your head."

"Honestly, I'd rather we keep Lucifer in my head. At least then I'd have some idea of what he's up to." Sam shook his head. "Keeping him out of my dreams isn't going to stop him from finding me—from finding Liam."

"You can't keep Lucifer in your head," Dean objected. "Last month you told me you were dangerous and needed to step away from hunting, and now you're telling me you want the Devil in your brain?"

"Hello?"

Sam ignored Castiel's voice coming through the speaker. "He's gonna catch us completely off guard if we cut him off. What are we going to do then?"

"Hello?"

Dean stood up from the bed, staring Sam down, his voice getting gradually louder. "You really think Satan is gonna give you enough clues in your dreams that you'll be able to stop him?"

"I don't think you understand how this works."

Sam put his face in his hands and sighed. "Sorry, Castiel." He rubbed his face a few times and then dropped his hands. "Dean will tell you what's going on." Sam stepped away from Dean and walked over to the dresser, leaning back against it. Uncontrollably, Sam's gaze once again drifted to Liam, and it put his mind on a new track.

Sam had already exposed Liam to so many things that he had never intended to—fistfights and killing monsters and running for life—and he couldn't help but remember what had happened last time he hadn't known his enemy. He couldn't even begin to imagine the terror and confusion and anger Liam must have felt when he was abducted by the angels, and this time around, the enemy was on both sides. This time around, they weren't going to stick Liam in a room and wait for Sam to cave.

"Sam." It was Castiel.

Sam pulled himself from his thoughts and walked over to Dean. "Yes?" he asked, leaning toward the phone slightly.

"I understand your desire to know what Lucifer is planning. However," Castiel paused briefly, "if at all possible, you must keep him from entering your dreams. We have no idea how strong the telepathic link to you is, and that means we have no idea what he can glean from your mind."

Sam found he had to agree with what Castiel said—it was a little more logic-driven than Dean's arguments—and he set aside his desire to keep Lucifer in view. "You said, 'if at all possible.' What does that mean?"

"Well, as I told you, I have multiple wards in mind for keeping Lucifer out of your dreams. Unfortunately, I have never used these wards in an attempt to keep an archangel out of someone's mind." Castiel sounded less than worried, despite the clear lack of confidence he had in the solution. "I will begin gathering the necessary ingredients for the wards I have in mind. It should only take a day or two."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, seeming a little uneasy. "Sam's right about us not seeing an attack coming. I still think we need to get Lucifer out of Sam's head, but it would be nice to know at least a little bit of what Lucifer is up to."

Castiel didn't respond immediately, a soft hum rising from the phone. "Well, you might be able to get some information by hunting demons and interrogating them, but you decided to stop hunting. I would do it for you, but searching for Gabriel is taking up all of my time."

Dean looked at Sam, his expression somewhat lost for words. "We'll have to decide what's worth the risk."

Sam took a breath, his heart aching in his chest, and breached the problem that had been rolling around inside his brain since he woke up. "I think we need to take Liam back."

"Back?" Dean echoed, confusion creasing his brow.

"Back to his group home." Sam's stomach turned just thinking about it. "Back to Maryland."

"I don't think—"

"No!"

Sam's head snapped over to look at Liam.

"No, you can't!" Liam threw the covers off and jumped to his feet, storming up to Sam with a mix of anger and desperation in his voice. "I knew you were going to say that. You can't send me back! I won't let you!"

Sam put his hands on Liam's shoulders and leaned down slightly. "Liam, Lucifer knows about you." Sam spoke slowly, trying to emphasize the severity of the situation. "If he gets his hands on you, he will do unspeakable things. He will torture you, and he will kill you."

"I don't care!" Liam slapped Sam's hands away. "I don't care. You can't send me back."

Sam straightened up, and despite his heart breaking, he tried to remain firm. "You might not care, but I do." He put his hands on his chest. "It's my job to protect you, and I don't know if I can do that while you're with us."

"So you're just gonna abandon me?" Liam clenched his fists at his sides, tears welling up in his bright blue eyes. "You're gonna cut me off, and leave me alone, and pretend that you're protecting me?"

Sam tried to speak a little softer, knowing that Liam's anger was coming from a place of pain and vulnerability. "Liam, I don't have a lot of options here. If I have to let you go to keep you safe, then that's what I have to do." He rushed on, hoping to ease the blow. "It won't be forever, okay?" Sam faltered a bit, both because of Liam and his own doubts. "Honestly, I haven't hashed the idea out with Dean and Castiel. We might decide taking you back is the wrong path. I just… we need to be ready to make the hard call."

Dean spoke up then, taking a step closer to them. "What I was going to say—"

"You just want to get rid of me!" Liam choked out a sob and then swallowed another, his anger only growing. "You just don't want to deal with having me around while you're hunting!"

"Liam, no." Sam shook his head, trying to emphasize the 'no' as much as he could. "No, that's not it. That could never be it."

"You're tired of dealing with my problems! Just admit it!" Liam took a couple steps back, a stray tear rolling down his cheek.

"Liam—" Sam tried.

"No!" Liam shook his head. "No, I don't want to hear it. I hate you!" He turned on his heel and ran for the door. "I hate you! Leave me alone!"

"Liam!" Sam started for the door. "I'll be back."

"Sammy, let me go." Dean reached back and grabbed the car keys from the nightstand before pushing past Sam and putting his hand on the door handle. "I'll calm him down, and then we'll come back." He handed his cellphone to Sam. "Here, talk to Cas or something."

Sam took the phone and watched as Dean slid out the door, shutting it behind him. Sam stared down at the device in his hand, the echoes of their argument ringing in his ears.

"Sam?"

Sam heaved a sigh and turned off speakerphone, pressing the device to his ear. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Good." Castiel took a breath. "I can understand your desire to keep Liam safe, but I believe returning him to his group home is a mistake. Human bonds are not broken easily, and Lucifer knows this. He will undoubtedly target Liam no matter where he is in an attempt to get to you."

Running a hand through his hair, Sam started to pace the floor. "But if I cut Liam off completely, there wouldn't be any point, right? Why would Lucifer hurt him if I wouldn't know about it?"

Castiel uttered a soft hum, like he was considering Sam's perspective. "He can tell you himself that he has Liam. Even if we do lock him out of your head, he'll have ways of sending messages."

"So, in other words, there's nothing I can do." Sam put his hand to his forehead, still walking around the room. "Heaven and Hell are coming after Liam, and I am completely helpless to stop them." He came to a stop by the window and let out a sigh. "See, if I had just had a chance to talk to you and Dean about sending Liam back, we would have decided it wasn't a good idea, and Liam would never have had to know. Now, he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you." Castiel had that distinct note of confusion in his voice that said he was squinting and cocking his head to the side. "Sam, his sun rises and sets at your command. You're his everything."

"Yeah, and I was going to leave him." Sam put his forehead to the glass and sighed again. "I just wish I could make him believe that it has nothing to do with me not wanting him."

Castiel hummed again. "I think he does believe. You can know one thing and feel a completely different thing at the same time. I… have had experience with the phenomenon. It is quite confusing, and I imagine Liam doesn't know a better way to handle it."

Sam took a step back and sank onto the bed, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know. I know he doesn't." He sighed yet again, frustrated with himself and discouraged about the situation he was in. "He shouldn't have to deal with this."

"It's too late for regrets, Sam. For any of us." Castiel's voice was unwavering, but there was a surprising note of empathy. "We'll do what we can, and we'll hope that things work out in the end. It's all we can do."

Sam stared down at the floor, thinking, and the more he thought, the angrier he got. "No." He shook his head. "No, I'm not willing to accept that. There has to be more."

"Well, there might be, but I'm only one angel. Even with Balthazar's help—"

"Give some of your workload to me, then." Sam stood up and started pacing around the room again. "I can research. I can help even if we're not hunting."

Castiel didn't say anything for a moment. "Balthazar and I are planning to infiltrate Heaven and obtain some books. We were hoping they could help us find Gabriel, but… it's possible they could help us ward off Lucifer."

"Perfect." Sam nodded, walking the length of the bed and back again. "I can do a lot with a book. You could reach out to Bobby, too. I know we haven't talked to him much since we were at the town with War, but he's great with research."

"I assumed you didn't want him involved," Castiel replied. "He is very stationary, and if Heaven or Hell catches wind of how close you are to him…"

Sam walked around the bed and stood by the window again, "I know, but it should be his choice. Last he heard, we were giving up hunting for the time being. He deserves to know what we're doing now."

"Very well. Dean programmed Bobby's number into my phone. I'll give him a call in the morning."

Sam sat down on the bed again, heaving a sigh. "Alright. I'll be here, just… waiting."

"Sam." Castiel spoke seriously, but once again, that oh-so-foreign empathy was hiding just beneath the surface. "Everything will be okay."

Sam scoffed at the notion. "You have to realize that we are almost guaranteed not to have a happy ending."

"Yes," Castiel confirmed. "However, you and your brother have a way of… turning things on their head. I never expected my loyalty to Heaven could be brought into question—let alone dismantled—by a trio of humans. Yet… here we are."

Sam felt a faint smile pull on the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. I guess some pretty unlikely things have happened." And maybe they would happen again. "Thanks, Castiel."

"I only spoke the truth." Castiel paused briefly, and when he spoke again, he was back to his usual monotone. "If you need me to talk to Liam, let me know. Until then, I have work to do."

"Yeah, of course." Sam hadn't even considered getting Castiel to talk to Liam, but when he thought about it, it didn't seem like such a bad idea. "I'll keep you posted."

"Excellent. Goodbye, Sam."

The line went dead, and Sam let out a sigh, his shoulder slouching as a sense of defeat washed over him. Maybe Dean will be able to talk Liam down… and then maybe he'll listen to me.

Maybe, but until then, all Sam could do was wait. It was horrible, the waiting; sitting on the bed and thinking of all the ways things could go wrong. It was painful. But Sam had earned it, so he didn't complain. He just sat there and tried to think of what he was going to say when the waters were calmed.

What else could he do?

"Liam!" Dean rushed down the hall, speaking in a harsh whisper. "Liam, wait a second."

Up ahead, Liam stopped storming away, but he didn't turn to look at Dean.

"Liam." Dean put a hand on Liam's shoulder and gave him a little push. "Come on. Let's go for a ride."

Liam nodded and started walking, not saying a word. Dean took his hand from Liam's shoulder and walked beside him, already forming some ideas about what needed to be said. They walked out the front doors of the motel, bare feet on the sidewalk, and made their way across the parking lot to the Impala. They both got in, and Dean shoved the keys in the ignition while Liam put on his seatbelt.

"I know you're mad right now," Dean started, pulling his own seatbelt in front of him and strapping himself in. "But you need to know Sam doesn't want to get rid of you."

Liam snorted, but he didn't say anything, leaning against the door and looking out the window.

"I mean it." Dean put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking space. "Sam just wants to keep you safe. Which, if I had had the chance to talk, I would have said that I don't think sending you back will keep you safe. Once Sam realizes that, he's gonna be completely against it." Dean looked left and right, but no one was out for a late-night drive except them, so Dean pulled smoothly onto the road. "You gotta understand, bud. Sam is scared. He doesn't want to leave you, but he doesn't want Heaven or Hell to get you, either."

"Do you know what it's like?" Liam asked, his voice low and steeped in anger.

Dean frowned in confusion. "Do I know what what's like?"

Liam didn't look away from the window. "Have you ever been without Sam?"

Dean's frown deepened, but he decided to let Liam lead the conversation. "Not when I was your age. We were apart when Sam went off to college, but…"

"What about your dad?" Liam rested his elbow on the door and put his chin in his hand. "Were you ever away from him?"

Dean wet his lips. "Sometimes, but it never lasted very long."

Liam nodded, still staring out the window. "So, you don't know."

"What don't I know?" Dean asked, trying not to get frustrated.

"You don't know what it's like to have no one care about you." Liam shifted in his seat. "You don't know what it's like to go from one day to the next without anyone caring whether you're dead or alive."

Dean thought about that for a moment, pursing his lips. "No, I… I guess I don't."

Liam leaned back in his seat, dropping his arm into his lap and staring at the roof. "Don't get me wrong, there were some nice people at the group home, and I was friends with a couple of the kids, but it never lasted."

Dean didn't say anything, waiting to see where Liam would go.

"Kids get moved to different homes, or they kill themselves like Timmy, and it doesn't take long to realize the workers are only nice because it's their job. If they're nice at all." Liam shook his head. "My parents hated me. I was completely alone."

Dean inhaled and slowly started speaking, treading carefully. "I… might not know what it's like, but… I know it was bad. I do know that, and Sam knows that, too." He shook his head, taking another breath. "Sam told me that when you were at the group home, you wanted to go to sleep and not wake up. That's why I know Sam would only suggest sending you back as a last resort."

"But he did suggest it." Liam wasn't loud, but there was a distinct note of anger in his voice. "He thought it was a good idea."

"He thought it was a necessary idea." Dean opened his mouth to continue, stopped, and then started again. "I know… I know, to you, nothing could be worse than going back to your group home. But buddy, you gotta believe me when I tell you there are worse things." He shook his head, not even sure he should be going down this road. "I was in Hell. I know what's down there, I know what they'll do, and I am telling you, the group home is better."

Liam turned his head away, folding his arms over his chest. He looked like he wanted to object—like he wanted to scream that it wasn't true—but he kept his silence.

"I know you don't think so, but you gotta believe me." Dean sighed, and then he wondered if he should have hidden his frustration better. "I don't know how to say it in a way that will make you understand, but you need to know that Sam only suggested the group home to keep you safe. And you heard him say it wouldn't be permanent. We would never leave you permanently. You're family."

Liam scoffed.

"You are." Dean put his hand on Liam's shoulder, pulling his eyes away from the road long enough to look at Liam. "Hey. Look at me."

Liam clenched his jaw and continued to stare out the window.

Dean looked back at the road for a second, and then he looked at Liam again. "Come on, kid. You gotta look at me. I want you to know that I'm serious."

Liam didn't move at first, but then his head slowly started to turn. He was still clenching his jaw, and when he met Dean's eyes, his own eyes were welling up with tears.

Dean looked back at the road for another second, and then he met Liam's eyes, green staring into blue. "You are family, Liam, and we love you." Dean shook his head. "We don't want to get rid of you. Not ever." He stole another glance at the road. "You're special. You're loved. You're wanted."

Liam looked down at his lap, a tear spilling onto his cheek. "Then why do I feel this way?"

Dean let go of Liam's shoulder and put his hand back on the wheel, his attention back on the road. "Buddy, that's how brains work." He shook his head, throat tightening as he tried to breech a topic that was closer to his heart than he liked to admit. "Look, when… when Sammy went off to Stanford, he left me behind."

Liam looked at Dean in silence, his eyes glassy.

"Now, Sammy and I have a lot of history." Clearing his throat, Dean struggled to continue. "And since we've gotten back together, there's been plenty of proof that he loves me. I know, up here—" he tapped the side of his head, "—that Sam never meant to make me feel that way. I know I shouldn't feel that way. But I do. Every time we have a fight, it comes back, and I feel it all over again." Dean sniffed and cleared his throat again. "But what's important is that I know Sam loves me no matter what. And I love him."

Liam looked down at his lap, slowly uncrossing his arms and seeming to deflate in the chair. "But… what if your brain is right?" He shook his head. "What if my brain is right?"

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You gotta look at the proof, buddy. You gotta count up all the times Sam has said he loves you. You gotta think about what he does do and what he doesn't do."

"And then I'll know?" Liam asked hopefully.

Dean looked at Liam and nodded. "Then you'll know."

Liam looked at Dean for a moment, and then he went back to staring at his lap. He toyed with his hands, cracking his knuckles and stretching his fingers.

"Do I have to forgive him right now?" Liam asked.

Dean shook his head, looking back at the road. "You forgive him when you're ready." Then, with a faint smile, he added, "Just don't wait too long. You'll make yourself miserable."

Liam nodded, twisting his fingers one by one. "Okay."

For a few moments, neither of them said anything, and then Dean pointed to the stereo. "You wanna drive around and listen to some music before we go back?"

Nodding again, Liam adjusted his chair so it was leaned back slightly. He rested his hands on his stomach and closed his eyes, settling in for a late-night drive with classic rock tunes.

"Love you, kiddo."

"Love you, too."

Dean smiled to himself and turned on the music.

Sam sat up in bed as soon as he heard the door open, veins flooding with relief. "I was starting to worry."

Dean walked in with Liam and shut the door behind them, attaching the door chain. "We just went for a drive."

Sam nodded. "I know, you were just gone a long time." He watched Liam climb wordlessly into bed, and he quickly realized their talk must have only done so much.

Dean dropped the keys on the nightstand and fell into bed, letting out a grunt when he hit the mattress.

Sam smiled faintly, and then he put his attention back on Liam. "Liam?"

Liam stayed curled up on his left side, not acknowledging Sam.

"It's okay if you're still angry with me, but I need you to know that I love you, and I'm sorry that I hurt you." Sam leaned down and planted a quick kiss on Liam's cheek. "Goodnight."

Liam remained still and silent, and Sam had to make peace with that. Laying down, Sam stared up at the ceiling and waited to fall asleep, wondering what he was supposed to do to keep his son safe.

At least we're all together. He inhaled deeply and let the air out through his nose, trying to force some calm into himself. At least we're all together.