Author's Note: Starting in this chapter, grace and apocalypse are no longer capitalized. I haven't been doing it for a while with any of my other stories, but because this series started so long ago, I was still doing it with this one. Eventually, I will go back through and give the whole series an edit, which will include removing the capital letters, but in the meantime, I'm writing them normally.

Liam's heart skipped when the phone rang. He froze, staring at the device charging on the nightstand. He wanted to pick it up—when he had been obsessing over possible scenarios for the moment of truth, he always pictured himself diving for the phone—but he was scared. As horrible as the anxiety of waiting was, the devastation of confirming the worst…

Reaching out, he grabbed the phone and took a split second to process Sam's name before he swiped the screen. He put it to his ear with a breathy, "Hello?" He didn't even know if the person on the other end could hear him. Please don't be a police officer who just found his body.

"Liam… it's me."

Liam let out a noise he couldn't describe, somewhere between a cry and an exhale and a prayer. "Dad?" He moved his mouth, trying to find words. "You—Is it over?"

"Yeah," Sam said, but his voice sounded weak. "We, uh… we made it, we…" He sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry I didn't… call sooner, um…"

Frowning, Liam shifted onto his knees, one hand clutching at the bedsheets. "Dad?" He felt Calypso rub her head against his side, but he didn't acknowledge her. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry, um… so, we did it, but… we got hurt pretty badly…" Sam took another breath, barely managing to string words together. "We're in… a hospital, but don't freak out. Uh… sorry, I just… woke up after the… um, the sleep stuff… I had to get some minor surgery… but, um…"

"Surgery?" Liam tried not to explode, and as his brain shifted out of the shock of getting news—especially good news, even if it was laced with potential disaster—he realized something. "Wait, I need to get Bobby!" He jumped off the bed, stumbling over his own feet as he burst into the hall. "Bobby!" He ran down the corridor and careened into the common room, where Bobby had laid down on the couch, and he grabbed the sleeping man's shoulder. "Uncle Bobby, wake up!"

Bobby jerked, gasping loudly. "What the—"

"It's Dad! They're alive, but they're in a hospital. I think he's still drugged up." Liam pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed the speaker icon as Bobby swung his legs over the edge of the couch. "Are you still there?"

"Yes, I…"

Bobby stood up, leaning a little closer to the phone as he spoke into it. "Liam says you're drugged up. Don't hurt yourself trying to make sense of the situation or explain things. Just give us the name of the hospital."

Sam emitted a hissing, humming noise, clearly trying to think.

"LMH Health West Campus."

Liam blinked. "Castiel?" It took a moment, but his brain caught up and realized an angel wouldn't need a hospital. "Wait, were you awake this whole time?" He once again felt Calypso rubbing against him and leaned down to scratch her head, realizing she must have followed him. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Sam, just rest," Castiel murmured, and there was a pause before he answered in a low voice, like he didn't want Sam to hear. "They were both more injured than Sam implied. They required surgery that was far from minor, and… I didn't want to tell you we made it and then turn around and tell you they died from their injuries. I understand you were anxiously awaiting news, but I…" He trailed off and let out a sigh.

Part of Liam wanted to be angry, but part of him understood. "It's okay." Or at least, it wasn't something he wanted to resolve at that exact moment. "What about you?"

"Don't worry about me." Castiel avoided the question. "Sam is awake—just barely—but Dean is still unconscious. Sam… was the one we were most worried about. He, uh…" He sighed. "It wasn't good. But now that he is awake, the doctor has been able to determine he is no longer in danger, so I helped him call you." He paused and took another breath. "I can explain more when you get here."

Bobby scratched his temple. "Alright. Let us get some shoes on, and we'll hit the road. Is there anything you need? You want us to bring clothes for the boys, or will they be able to come home as soon as they're discharged from the hospital?"

"I… do not know. I will leave that to you. Sam?" Castiel paused. "Sam wants to speak with you again."

There were a few seconds of silence, and then Sam's voice came through the speaker. "I don't want you guys to worry. We're, uh, we're gonna be fine, so just… drive here, and…" He stumbled over his words for a moment. "Liam, don't be scared, okay? Everything's, um, gonna be fine."

Liam smiled faintly. "Just rest, Dad. I'm not worried." Well, maybe he was, but Sam didn't need to know that right now. "We're on our way. So lay down, and close your eyes, and do exactly what the doctor tells you."

"Mmhmm. Love you, buddy…"

"Love you, too." Liam smiled a little wider and looked over at Bobby, the call ending a second later. "They made it."

Bobby shook his head slightly, wearing a smile and wide eyes of disbelief and amazement. "Yeah, they… I guess they did." He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head again, and then he seemed to snap back to reality. "But they're gonna need us, so go get ready, and I'll pack up a few things, and then we'll get going."

Liam grabbed Bobby in a hug, squeezing him with a, "Thanks for staying with me," and accepting a hair tousle before he darted away to get ready. "C'mon, Cali!" He glanced down to make sure she was running alongside him. They made it. They made it!

Liam took off running the second he saw Castiel in the hallway, the angel looking naked without his trench coat and suit jacket. "Cas!"

Castiel turned toward him, and while he didn't smile, he opened his arms for a hug. Liam obliged, throwing his arms around Castiel's neck as Bobby walked up behind him.

"You're okay!" Shutting his eyes, Liam squeezed as tight as he could, pressing his forehead against Castiel's collarbone. "You made it."

"Yes, I… made it." Castiel returned the embrace, but his movements were stiff. "Sam is asleep right now, but Dean was awake last I checked. He, of course, asked me to come watch over Sam." He glanced toward the room on his left. "Gabriel was able to use some of his grace to keep Sam alive during the battle, but there was bleeding in his brain, and his kidney was… lacerated, I believe. I didn't really understand what the doctor was saying, but those two injuries required surgery."

Liam swallowed, and even though he slid his arms from around Castiel's neck, he stayed close and kept one hand on the angel's bloodied, off-white shirt.

"Dean had several broken ribs, and a rather severe punctured lung, which also required surgery. He is awake now, and he seems to be more coherent than Sam, which I was told is normal considering Sam's brain injury. We shouldn't be concerned at this time." Castiel's eyes kept drifting back to Sam, revealing he was concerned regardless of what the doctors said. "There are other injuries. They have broken bones, sprains, bruises… there aren't a lot of open wounds, as it seems they sustained most of the injuries from Michael and Lucifer throwing them with telekinesis."

Breathing carefully, Liam tried not to show how much the news was weighing on him. He peered into the open hospital room, wanting to go and see Sam for himself, but also… somewhat scared to see what Sam looked like.

"How're the angels?" Bobby asked.

"We lost nearly half, but considering the amount of soldiers Heaven had on their side, that is an incredibly positive number." Castiel wet his lips. "Balthazar is alive, and he is calling me with updates as he takes the angels back to the bunker. They cannot fly at this time given how much grace they've burned up."

Liam tore his eyes away from Sam's room. "Is Kaori okay? I mean, um, Amane?"

"Yes, though she is just as weakened as the rest of us," was the simple, flat answer.

He's acting weird.

Bobby leaned against the doorframe, glancing in at a sleeping Sam before looking at their angelic friend again. "Sam said, 'we did it.' Does that mean Gabe got his brothers in the Cage?"

"He killed Lucifer, and then the four of us managed to get Michael in the Cage."

"Either way, they're taken care of." Bobby glanced around, ensuring no one had come close enough to overhear their incriminating conversation. "Gabriel alive, too?"

Castiel nodded.

"Good." Bobby nudged Liam on the shoulder. "Hey, you wanna go see your dad?"

Liam did, desperately, but he kept Castiel's shirt in his fist. He continued to look up, blue staring into blue, and he shook his head faintly. "What's wrong?"

Castiel barely reacted. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Narrowing his eyes, Liam gave his best friend a look that said he would not be accepting those kinds of answers. "Castiel."

"You need to focus on Sam and Dean." Castiel took Liam by the shoulders and put some space between them. "Nothing is—"

"Tell. Me. What's. Wrong."

Sighing softly, Castiel resisted for a few more seconds and then dropped his arms to his sides. "I just… don't know what my grace is doing. It feels strange. I'm not sure if it's just recovering, or if it's due to being mixed with leftover archangel grace, or if something is wrong, or…" His mouth moved disjointedly, and he eventually closed it and glanced away.

Liam didn't say anything for a moment, and he couldn't deny he was worried, but there was really nothing to indicate the problem was serious. "It's okay to be scared, you know." He smiled, reaching out and lightly punching Castiel on the shoulder. "If my body were doing something to me, and I didn't know what it was, it would scare me, too."

"It's not relevant. Sam and Dean are suffering from far worse injuries."

"Which is also irrelevant." Liam shrugged. "Just because your problem isn't the worst one, it doesn't mean you're not allowed to be upset about it."

Castiel stared for a moment, and then he offered a faint smile. "You would say something like that." He smiled a little wider, and then it faded. "Now that you're here, I'm going to go check on Dean again. He'll want to see you both as well, so once you've spent some time with Sam, just send a text to Dean's phone, and we can switch places."

"Why Dean's?" Bobby asked, and Liam could hear the arched brow in his voice.

"Mine was… somewhat demolished."

Bobby snorted. "Only somewhat." He reached out and slapped Castiel on the shoulder. "Go on, Featherbrain, and keep us updated on your grace."

Castiel nodded jerkily. "Dean is in room 329." He pointed down the hall in the opposite direction of where Liam and Bobby came in. "It's on this floor, but it is a fair distance away." He used the same hand to reach for Liam, but he stopped himself short and abruptly turned and strode away.

I don't like this. Liam frowned, thinking about how Castiel had kissed him for the first time before they went to fight the archangels, whereas now it was like he wasn't even sure he wanted to go for a hug. But he opened his arms when I ran at him, and he did hug me back. Maybe I'm overthinking this.

"Lee?"

Liam smiled at Bobby and, without offering a response, hurried into the hospital room. He went up to the bed and looked down at Sam, feeling a tightness in his chest when he saw the bandages and medical helmet. He scanned Sam's body, noting the brace on his right wrist and the dark bruises around his left elbow. Everything else was covered by scrubs and blankets, but it was still obvious Sam wasn't doing well.

But he's alive. Liam walked a little closer to the head of the bed, leaning forward and planting a kiss on the part of Sam's forehead he could reach. "Hey," he whispered, extending his hand like he was going to put it on Sam's arm but quickly realizing that would probably cause pain. "You did it. You saved the world, and you still managed to come back to me." He sighed, knowing there was no point in having this conversation when Sam couldn't hear it. "Thank you."

Bobby stood on the other side of the bed, hands on his hips. For a few moments, there was silence. "You wanna go see Dean while we wait for Sam to wake up?"

"Yeah, just…" Liam rested his hand on Sam's left wrist, which didn't look injured in any way. "I just wanna stay here for a little." He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, feeling a twist in his gut. "I mean, it's not that I don't wanna see Dean, it's just—"

"Kid." Bobby held his hands up slightly. "You don't have to explain. Sam's your dad. You almost lost him. Dean's not gonna be mad if you wanna stand here for a little while and just take it all in."

Liam exhaled. "Yeah." He put his eyes back on Sam, gripping the wrist a little tighter. "Do you think it's over?" He wet his lips. "I mean, if they stopped the apocalypse… it should just be normal monster hunting from now on, right?"

"I think that's what we're all hoping for."

Blue eyes wandered over the tape and gauze, brow creasing slightly. "You don't think Castiel is going to leave, do you? I mean, I know he only met us because of his mission, and now he's helped us fix what Heaven messed up, but… he wouldn't just go away, right?" He swallowed. Maybe that's why he's acting so weird.

"If he tries, we won't let him." Bobby shrugged, and when Liam looked across the bed, he saw a smirk on the older man's face. "He's one of us now."

Liam smiled. "Yeah."

He looked back down at Sam, and they stood there for another ten minutes without a word passing between them. Liam rubbed the inside of Sam's wrist, and Bobby would periodically reach out and brush Sam's hair back or hold his hand in front of Sam's mouth, as if he needed to be sure Sam was still breathing.

"Okay." Liam kissed Sam's forehead again and pulled his phone from his pocket. "Let's go see Dean." He shot a text to his uncle's cellphone, per Castiel's instructions, and waited for the very Castiel-esque reply to come.

Uncle Dee: I am on my way to Sam's room.

Once the text came in, Liam and Bobby walked out and started down the hall, passing Castiel about halfway. Castiel offered them a faint nod, which had Liam worried about his behavior again, but the youngest Winchester kept his thoughts to himself and had a smile on his face by the time he entered Dean's room.

"Dean!" Liam rushed up to the bed and barely resisted the urge to jump on top of it, gripping the edge of the mattress instead. "How do you feel?"

Dean grinned, reaching out a bandaged arm and pulling Liam into a side hug. "Everything kinda has an ache to it, but I figure that's because my bloodstream is almost entirely painkillers at this point. If I didn't have the drugs, I would feel like I've been hit by a semi." He exhaled, expression caught somewhere between dismissiveness and a wince. "But I'm alive. I'll be fine. I guess Cas told you, but we took care of Michael and Lucifer. Sam and I passed out before the battle between the other angels could wrap up, but Cas said we won that, too." He gave Liam a squeeze, and then he leaned toward the other side of the bed, grabbing Bobby in a similar side hug. "I can't believe we made it."

Bobby gestured to the abundance of gauze and tape wrapped around Dean's bare chest. "By the skin of your teeth, looks like." He moved his hand, like he was going to touch the wrap, maybe to get a feel for how injured Dean was, but he stopped. "Can you breathe okay?"

"Uh…" Dean laughed nervously. "Well, I'm taking in oxygen."

"What else is wrong with you?" Bobby asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Dean rubbed the back of his head with his right hand, two of his fingers in splints. "Well, there's the broken rib that actually punctured my lung, and then there's four more. They said the bruising on my back is bad enough that a bone might be chipped, but even if it is, there's not a lot they can do to fix it. It's just gonna hurt." He lifted his injured hand. "Two broken fingers. Sprained left wrist. I'm, unfortunately, never going to play professional sports because I did something terrible to my knee that I was a little too drugged up to understand the explanation of." He leaned back against the propped-up head of the bed, sinking into his pillow. "Concussion, but no brain bleeds. Uh…" He shook his head. "Really, the worst of it was the lung. I'm much more worried about Sam. Bleeding in his brain and a torn right kidney… they said he's got broken ribs, some kind of sprained or twisted wrist, and something happened to his hip, but I can't remember the words… it was like a tear or…" He sighed.

Liam put his hands on the mattress and leaned forward, smiling. "Dad'll be fine. You both will. You'll have plenty of time to rest now that the world isn't trying to end."

"I still just… can't believe we're alive." Dean laughed softly, more of an exhale than anything, and shook his head. "We're alive, and we won. Somehow."

I can't believe it, either. Liam smiled, trying not to show how many years the last twenty-four hours had taken off his life. "Tell us what happened. Like, from the beginning. What actually happened?"

Dean stared up at the ceiling, a faint smile pulling on his mouth. "Some parts are kind of a blur, but… I'll do my best."

And Dean started talking.

Sam saw the ceiling first. He shifted his gaze to the right and realized Liam's head was on his thigh, but he didn't react right away. He understood the scenario perfectly, and he wasn't sure why, but he felt like he was supposed to be confused. What had happened before this? He was in the hospital. How did he get there? Yet he wasn't confused. It was just like a, 'Huh, this is weird,' sensation. No panic. No scrambling for answers.

He closed his eyes for a moment. He would have needed a hospital after the fight with the angels. He knew he had been hurt badly. It made sense that he had needed medical attention. It… must have been a while. If Liam's here, and… and I was out long enough for him and Bobby to make that trip… I was probably under the knife or… Taking a slow breath, he opened his eyes again and looked toward the window. It's nighttime. I don't know what that means.

Sam flexed the fingers on his right hand, muted pain crawling through the muscles in his hand and wrist, which he realized was in some kind of brace. Undeterred, he brushed his fingers against the dark red hair. "Liam…" He winced, somewhat surprised by how hoarse he was. "Liam."

Liam inhaled, shoulders lifting and sinking, unresponsive.

Smiling to himself, Sam decided to let the teen sleep. He couldn't help but think back to the year before, when he had walked into Bobby's living room, barely able to stand, and saw Liam asleep on the couch. He had berated himself for making Liam worry again, and at the time, he had just condemned the world to destruction. Now he had saved the world from that fate, and he felt like he had fixed the problem he made. He had made Liam worry again, but this time, instead of coming back and telling his son things were going to get even more hectic, he was able to tell Liam there would be peace. Maybe not indefinitely—in fact, knowing them, there was almost no chance the peace would be indefinite—but there would be peace.

Trailing his fingers along the side of Liam's head, he continued to smile. He felt something, and it was recognizable, but it wasn't something he felt often. It was something he felt on the night he left for Stanford, which he knew he could never admit to Dean, because it had been an amazing feeling. It hadn't come from the act of leaving his family—how could it?—but it came all the same.

Hope.

Looking down the road and thinking of all the possibilities. Back then, he had thought about the things college and a normal life might bring. Some kind of identity that didn't revolve around who he was related to? Maybe some stability and connections that lasted more than four months? Independence? Freedom to pursue a career he actually wanted to spend the rest of his life doing?

He had thought about a lot. It had terrified him, but it had also made him kind of high, and he was feeling it again. It was strange, but he found a lot of the hopes were similar, just with a different tone to them. Living in the bunker would bring that stability he had always wanted, only this time, he didn't have to be away from the people he loved to get it. He had always wanted a career he chose for himself, and while he seemed to be stuck with hunting, he had chosen to be Liam's dad, and to him, that was the most incredible career of all. On top of that, hunting wouldn't be his life anymore. It would be what it was meant to be: a job. He would go out, hunt monsters, and then come home to a life that didn't revolve around what he did on the road with Dean. Being a parent brought that independence he had been looking for. He got to make the rules and do what he thought was best based on his beliefs, and even if Dean gave his opinion and argued for his own points, he wouldn't strongarm Sam. He wouldn't be able to tell Sam that it didn't matter what he thought because they were doing things Dad's way, period.

But it was more than that.

Sam went to Stanford because he felt like he had tried to obtain the things he wanted with John and Dean, and it had never worked. But not only did his adoption of Liam bring some of what he had been looking for, he found it led to a different relationship with Dean. He felt like they both talked about more; like they were willing to try things that had once been so taboo. Then Castiel came, and while their friendship had a rocky start, Sam was so grateful for everything that came after. He had never had a close friendship with anyone that wasn't riddled with lies about who he was and where he came from. On top of all that, there was no more tension between Bobby and John to keep Sam from calling on his uncle.

"Mmm…" Liam turned his head, pushing his forehead against the arms he had folded on the side of the bed.

"Hey," Sam whispered.

Liam hummed again, two seconds passed, and then he jumped up like he had been electrocuted. "Dad?"

"Yup." Sam smiled, dropping his hand from the hair he had been toying with. "I made it."

Liam grabbed Sam's hand, biting down on his lip and looking like he desperately wanted to launch himself at Sam but knew he couldn't. "I'm so glad you're okay." He sniffed. "I mean, I don't know about okay, exactly. But you're still alive." He laughed weakly and scooted his chair closer to the head of the bed.

"That's okay enough for me." Sam tilted his head slightly, and with that movement came the realization that he was wearing some kind of medical helmet. "Oh. That bad, huh?"

Liam nodded his head. "Yeah. You had bleeding in your brain, and your kidney was torn, so you needed surgery for those. You have a bunch of other injuries, but none of them were serious enough that you needed more operations."

Sam's eyes widened slightly. "Woah." He frowned slightly, focusing on the negative sensations scattered throughout his body. "I feel like I should be in more pain."

"Uh, no. You are on so many drugs right now." Liam laughed, looking more comfortable than he had in months. "I don't remember exactly what they said you were on, but you won't really have to deal with pain until you get home and only have the pills they prescribe."

"What about Dean?" Sam tried to shift, but he couldn't move much. "He was still awake when I passed out, I think. I don't… really remember, but—but he's okay, right? I mean, you would have said something right away if he wasn't."

Liam nodded, quickly reassuring. "He's okay. He had a punctured lung, and he needed surgery, but he's doing good." He tapped his fingertips on the thin mattress. "Bobby left a few minutes ago to get some information from the hospital. You were both asleep, so he thought it would be a good time. We figure, y'know, we're gonna need to know a lot about how to help you and Dee recover, so we need some resources."

"Yeah, I guess we do." Sam huffed out a laugh, muted pain spreading through his… everything, really, but mostly his throat and chest. He could only imagine what it would feel like when those magical medications wore off. "Castiel is okay, too, right?" He felt his head bobbing slightly. "And Gabriel? What about the other angels?"

Smiling, Liam stood up, walking toward the head of the bed and leaning down to plant a kiss on Sam's cheek. "Get some sleep, Dad. Your brain was bleeding. Castiel and Gabriel are okay. Dean's okay, Bobby's okay, I'm okay, you're okay."

"I'm glad." Sam scrunched his brow. "I feel like I got tired really fast, really suddenly." He blinked slowly. "It's probably just the adrenaline wearing off. I woke up and saw you, and I was just… and then I wanted to know if everyone was okay, and…" He trailed off, eyes fluttering again. "If everything's okay, I guess I can…"

"Sleep. You literally have a hole in your head."

Sam reached out blindly, grabbing onto Liam's shirt and giving it a tug. "Hey. I love you, little man."

Liam laughed softly. "I love you, too, Dad. Thanks for saving everyone."

"Oh, I…" He shook his head faintly, wanting to dismiss the praise.

"Thank you for saving me."

Sam drifted off with a smile.

Liam chewed on his bottom lip, watching the sleeping angel with narrowed eyes. He saw the gentle rise and fall of the trench coat, and he let his eyes wander over the arms that were pulled in close. He looked at the slightly bent legs, ankles crossed, shoes still on, with a distinct lack of a blanket or pillow.

It was an odd cross of angel and human. Like Castiel was trying to get comfortable but didn't know how because it had never been necessary before. But regardless, Liam didn't like it. He didn't like how much time Castiel had been spending on that cot, either staring vacantly at the ceiling or sleeping.

He already said his grace felt strange. Liam continued to gnaw, crinkling his nose. I talked to Dean, and he was surprised by how good Castiel looks. But Dean doesn't know what Castiel said about his grace. He shook his head. I want to ask one of the nurses to at least take his vitals or something, but we really need to get out of here. If we stay too long, and the fake IDs get found out, or they start asking for insurance information… He sighed.

He walked over to the cot and pressed his hand to Castiel's forehead, finding it was somewhat cool to the touch. He remembered Dean making a comment about how good Castiel's hands looked, but as Liam grabbed the fingers and moved them up and down, he found they were stiff and still looked kind of… off. Not disjointed the way Dean had said they were before, but… still not right.

Sighing, Liam stepped away from the bed and cast a glance at his equally unconscious dad before leaning against the glass beside the open doorway to the room. He pulled out his phone and started a group message, tapping away at the touchscreen.

New Message: Hey, guys. I'm worried about Castiel. His grace is healing his body, but not entirely, almost like it's running out? Is there any way we can replenish it for him?

Liam tapped the back of his phone, chewing on his lip again, and then he glanced over at Sam. It had been two days since the doctors informed them there were no complications and Sam could be released in 'a matter of days,' so they wouldn't have to stay much longer. For Dean, the estimate was pretty much the same because they were just waiting for the lung to fully reinflate.

Gabriel: he had more of my grace than anyone else, but he probably used it all up fighting michael. normally i would be able to replenish him but after that fight? no way.

"Son of a Baptist." Liam rubbed his forehead, lips twitching into a smile from the usage of the phrase he had found on the internet. He had to replace swear words with something, after all. "Okay, so—"

Kamaneori: Everyone is completely drained. – Amane

Balthazar: Try not to worry. It'll replenish on its own, and as it does it'll keep healing him up. He'll be fine in no time.

Reply: But he's barely able to function. You might be drained, but you can at least walk around and do stuff! He's just… IDK.

Liam looked at Castiel again, furrowing his brow. Is he pale? He looked over at Sam and then back at Castiel. Dad had brain surgery, and he's unconscious, but even he doesn't look so… sick. Sighing, he pushed off the glass and crossed the room, once again feeling Castiel's forehead.

Reply: He's abnormally cold to the touch.

He didn't know why, but he reached down and slipped his fingers over the inside of Castiel's wrist, waiting silently for some kind of life sign. It came quickly, a seemingly normal pulse thrumming under his fingers.

Gabriel: you gotta remember kid cas was fighting an archangel and he isn't one himself. he fought harder than any other angel, and its gonna hit him harder.

I guess that's true. But Liam still didn't like it.

"That's a serious face."

Liam startled, letting out a shout, which caused Castiel to jerk awake with a much more silent but equally surprised gasp. "Uncle Bobby!"

Castiel looked around with bleary eyes. "Wha—?"

"Sorry, boy." Bobby was wearing a smile nonetheless.

Liam rolled his eyes and looked back at Castiel, pushing on his chest. "Just go back to sleep. Everything's fine." He waited until Castiel sank back onto the cot and then turned to Bobby, finding the older man standing in the doorway with a thick stack of papers. "So, you got some good info?"

Bobby nodded, leafing through the pages without actually looking at them. "Brain bleed, craniotomy, punctured lung, excessive bleeding, fractures, lacerated kidney—I mean, Sam and Dean pretty much got hit with everything, and there's an FAQ for every one."

Liam twisted his lips. "Did they say anything about how much longer we have to be here?"

"They want Sam for at least two more days, but they said Dean might be good by tomorrow night." Bobby walked over to the bedside table—one of those hospital-only ones that could go over the bed and literally never existed outside of hospitals—and placed the papers on it. "Are you getting hungry?"

Liam heard his phone go off. "Yeah, kinda."

Bobby folded his arms over his chest. "Me, too. Dean's awake and said he could go for a burger, so I was thinking we could find a joint, eat lunch, and bring something back for Dean." He glanced at Sam. "I would wake him up to ask what he wants, but they say sleep is the best thing for him right now."

"We know what he likes." Liam shrugged and looked down at Castiel. "We're gonna get something for him, too." He didn't explain, but he didn't leave room for argument in his voice.

Bobby arched a brow, but he didn't disagree or question the idea.

Sighing, Liam gave Castiel and Sam another look, and even though he didn't like the thought of leaving them, he smiled at Bobby and said, "I'm ready whenever."

"There's a place about a mile away." Bobby started toward the doorway, slipping his hands into his pockets. "How're you holding up?"

Liam swiped his screen and scanned the message before shooting out a quick reply.

Kamaneori: Has he been at the hospital since the battle? If you're worried about him, maybe you should convince him to come back to your motel and get cleaned up and stuff! – Kaori

Reply: Thanks, Kaori!

Liam wet his lips and looked up at Bobby. "I'm okay."

"Is that your final answer?" Bobby gave him a skeptical look.

"I…" Liam shook his head, stepping into the stairwell with Bobby and starting downward. "I feel like I shouldn't complain. I mean, they all survived. I got what I wanted, so…"

Bobby frowned. "You know that's not how it works." He ruffled Liam's hair. "Tell me how you're holding up."

Liam shrugged, looking down at his beat-up sneakers. "I just feel helpless." He tugged on his flannel. "I want to help them, but I can't do anything for them."

"You really think that?" Bobby snorted. "Kid, I know you, and I know that's not true. You're gonna be cleaning and cooking meals for them and bringing them painkillers. You know they're not gonna be able to move around for a while, and who do you think is gonna keep them entertained? Just being in the same room with you is gonna make them feel better."

Laughing softly, Liam pushed open the door to exit the stairwell. "Yeah, but I'm not doing that now."

"Neither am I." Bobby shrugged as they walked down the hall toward the lobby. "We do what we can, when we can. Maybe now that the worst is behind us, you can start seeing your therapist again and work through some of this stuff."

"I hope so," Liam sighed.

Bobby pressed his lips together in a thin line. "I wish I had better advice for you, but this ain't exactly my strong suit."

Liam giggled. "Yeah, I know." He glanced at the automatic door when it opened, and then he smiled at Bobby. "I love you lots. You know that, right?" Then, without waiting for an answer, he leaned closer and gave Bobby a side hug.

"'Course I do." Bobby returned the embrace and squeezed him. "I love you, too, boy."

Liam smiled and dropped his arm, letting out a soft sigh.

"Maybe I should be recovering in my bed. Then you can sit on the couch."

Liam glanced up from his spot on the floor, fingers slowing on the keyboard. "No, it's easier if you're all in the same room." He smiled at Sam, who was lying on the couch behind him, and then he shifted his gaze to the recliner past the end of the couch, off to his right, where Dean was looking incredibly bored. "Want me to put on another movie?"

"I want to be able to walk around." Dean shifted on the chair, his face immediately tight with pain despite how little he had moved. Calypso looked up from her position on his lap and mewed quietly, but he ignored her. "Look, they said to stay off it, but if you help me get to the kitchen after dinner, I could at least help with the dish—"

"Uncle Dean." Liam gave him a hard look. "You need to rest. Pick another movie."

Dean groaned, dropping his head against the back of the chair.

"He hasn't moved in a while."

Liam glanced back at Sam, and he initially thought the comment was about Dean, but when he followed Sam's line of sight to the air mattress on his left, he realized it was about Castiel. Liam set the laptop aside and crawled to the mattress, looking down at the dark gray t-shirt and messy hair. They had convinced Castiel to get rid of his bloodstained clothes, and he had pretty much wrapped himself in a soft blanket and passed out the moment they got back to the bunker.

"Have we heard anything from Gabriel?" Sam asked, pushing himself up and immediately putting a hand to his medical helmet. "Oof. I mean, is anyone charged up enough to give him some of their grace?"

Heaving a sigh, Liam glanced at his phone, where a text from Kaori was sitting in his inbox. He wet his lips, nervous about what she had told him, and then he reached out, grabbing Castiel's shoulder and giving it a gentle shake.

"Mm?" Castiel opened his eyes, turning his head and giving Liam a disoriented, half-conscious look. "What?"

Liam took a breath, hands resting on his lap. "Will you let me help you?"

Castiel squinted, tilting his head.

"I found out that… if you touch my soul, then… it can recharge you." Liam shifted, averting his eyes for a second before looking back. "I know it's really dangerous, but if it'll help you—"

"No." Castiel said it firmly, seeming more coherent than he had since Liam first arrived at the hospital. "I refuse to put you in that kind of danger simply to speed up my recovery."

Liam felt an amalgamation of relief and guilt and sadness, his shoulders slouching. "But I—" He stiffened, arms winding around him and pulling him forward. "Woah!" He half caught himself, half landed on Castiel's chest.

"Thank you, Liam."

Liam blinked, confused, and shifted his arms so he was hugging back. "I didn't do anything. I just wanted to help."

"I know," Castiel murmured. "That's the point."

Still confused, Liam decided to accept the embrace without questioning it, especially considering Castiel's lack of comprehension when it came to physical affection. "You're welcome, then." He rested his head on Castiel's chest, listening to the steady thrum of a heartbeat. But was it Jimmy's heartbeat, just going on because the vessel was alive, or was it a sign that Castiel's grace was stable?

I just wish we knew more about it. He curled his fingers through the t-shirt. "I just don't like this. You're sleeping all the time, and you aren't moving around or doing anything…"

Castiel squeezed Liam a little tighter. "Try not to worry. I'll let you know… if my situation gets worse." His eyes fluttered toward the end of his sentence, as if to prove the point about him sleeping constantly.

"I haven't seen you like this since Heaven tortured you back before Dad opened the Cage, and even then, I don't think you were this bad." Liam chewed on the inside of his cheek. "If you're not better in a week, will you touch my soul and take at least a little energy?"

Castiel didn't respond.

Liam lifted his head and saw the angel had fallen asleep again. He sighed, resting on Castiel for another few seconds before he pushed himself up. "Uncle Dee, what movie do you want to watch?"

"We'll keep an eye on him, Lee. We're not gonna let anything bad happen." Dean pushed himself up half an inch, wincing and immediately dropping back into the recliner. "If he doesn't get better soon, he can touch one of our souls, or maybe Gabriel will be recharged enough to can him a dose of archangel grace. We've got options, okay? Don't freak out."

Making the expression equivalent of a sigh, Liam crawled toward Sam's laptop and pushed it aside. He got to his feet and adjusted the blanket draped over his dad, figuring Sam had fallen asleep shortly after pointing out Castiel's lack of movement. Liam tried not to worry, knowing sleep was very important when recovering from a brain injury, but it seemed so eerie to him the way Sam would wake up, say a few things or read a chapter of a book, and then pass out again.

"Lee."

"I'm not worrying." Liam moved the blanket again, tucking it around Sam's shoulders. "I just…" He flashed a weak smile and turned toward Dean. "Well, you know."

Dean smirked. "Yeah. I know." He cracked his neck and then started massaging the back of it. "I can't tell if that made it worse or better." He groaned. "I wish I could get up." He shifted again, trying to get comfortable on the recliner. "How about you pick the movie instead of me?"

"I'm doing school." And trying to research everyone's injuries. "You pick something."

"You've been doing 'school' for a long time." Dean used actual air quotes with the fingers that worked, as if the look on his face wasn't enough to tell Liam he knew what his nephew was up to. "Pick out a movie and watch it with me."

Liam looked down at the open laptop and then closed it with his foot. "Um…" He walked over to the bookshelf they had cleared to start storing DVDs, most of which came from a Blockbuster they hit on the way back from the hospital. "I don't know, um…" He scanned the spines, trying to remember which ones Dean had already watched. "How about… Dream Home?" He grabbed the case and held it up where Dean could see it.

"Isn't that a horror movie?" Dean stroked Calypso's fur, mildly suspicious. "Why would you want to stress yourself out more?"

Liam arched a brow, an unimpressed look on his face. "I literally met Sorzie because a shtriga was in my room trying to eat me." He held his disdain for a moment, and then he let out a laugh. "It'll be fine."

Dean didn't argue, and Liam put in the movie. It became very apparent, very quickly, that they had nothing to worry about in the scariness department. Instead, they spent most of the run time laughing at how horribly the movie was made. Calypso got sick of the constant jostling about fifteen minutes into it, so she had gone over to Castiel, and the movie just kept getting worse. It got to the point where Liam was worried it was doing more harm than good, because even though Dean was regularly taking the opioids the hospital prescribed, he still grabbed his ribs during several of their mocking montages, moaning in between the laughter.

"Dude, that was so horrible." Dean let his head fall back, a cross between a groan and a sigh escaping him. "That was so bad."

Liam sat on the floor in front of the couch right by Sam's head, which was the end closest to Dean's chair. "We literally heard the director say 'cut' at the end of one of the scenes." He snickered. "I can't—"

"You boys doing okay in here?"

Twisting around, Liam looked over the back of the couch to the entrance, where he caught the tail end of Bobby putting his ballcap back on his head. "We're doing good. How are the angels?"

"Good as they can be. I helped them get a bunch of mattresses set up so they can rest." Bobby snorted, putting his hands on his hips. "I wasn't about to carry'em all from the car into the training room, but I didn't mind getting them inflated. We've got twenty-three angels still kicking, not counting Gabe and Cas, but they're all pretty drained from the fight." He jerked his head toward the boys. "You alright with breakfast for dinner?"

Dean laughed. "Bobby, if someone else is doing the cooking, I don't care what is served when." He started to move his good leg. "If you help me get to the kitchen, I can at least flip some eggs or bacon or—"

"Boy." Bobby gave him a look. "Watch another movie."

Liam uncrossed his legs to get up. "I can help, Uncle Bobby!"

"I appreciate it, kid, but I want you keeping an eye on these three knuckleheads." Bobby pointed to the couch. "Sam sleeping again?"

Turning on the floor, Liam grabbed Sam's shoulder and gave it a little shake. "Hey, Dad." He waited a moment, shaking again when there was no response. "Dad."

Sam inhaled sharply, opening his eyes and looking around with a, "Hmm?"

"Bobby's making breakfast for dinner," Liam said softly. "Do you want some eggs and bacon or something?"

"Uhh…" Sam screwed his eyes shut, spending a few seconds still and silent, and then he opened them again. "Yeah, but not too much… just, like, one piece of bacon and one egg… scrambled… no toast or anything…" He started to drift off again.

Liam jerked his shoulder. "Hey, you gotta stay awake. You're taking meds in twenty minutes."

Sam gave him a tired smile. "Isn't this supposed to go the other way?"

"Huh-uh." Liam opened his mouth to make a comment, but his brain jumped to a different track. "Hold on." He crawled over to the mattress and grabbed Castiel's arm, causing Calypso to lift her head. "Hey, wake up a second."

Castiel moaned, head lolling to one side as he exhaled.

"Castiel." Liam gave him another shake. "Hey, wake up!"

Sucking in a lungful of air, Castiel forced his eyes open and slowly found Liam's face.

"How many eggs do you want?" Liam spoke softly, like he was dealing with someone suffering from a migraine even though Castiel hadn't claimed to have one.

Castiel shook his head. "I don't eat."

"Yeah, you said that when I tried to bring you a burger at the hospital. I let you talk me out of it then, but I'm not gonna do that now. You need to feed your body and save your grace for other things." Liam gave him a stern look. "How many eggs? I know you won't know what kind you like, but you can pick how much."

"Uhh…" He tilted his head.

Liam rolled his eyes. "Bobby, will you make two dippy eggs for Castiel?" He turned toward Bobby. "I really don't mind helping in the kitchen. I can cook and keep an eye on everyone at the same time."

Bobby smiled. "I've got it, Lee." He turned and disappeared into the hall.

"Okay." Liam took a moment to force some positivity onto his face. "Should we see if any of the other movies are really bad?"

"I have never wanted to do anything more." Dean grinned, but Liam didn't miss the way his hand slid toward his knee. "I gotta figure out when I get to have more of that sweet, sweet Percocet…" He reached for his phone, probably to look at the time.

Liam frowned sympathetically. "You can't take any more for an hour." He glanced at Castiel again and then stood up. "Dad, do you think you can stay awake long enough to watch a really bad movie with us?"

"Maybe?" Sam pushed himself up on his elbows, trying to slide backward toward the arm of the couch. "I can at least manage the twenty minutes until my next dose… I can't guarantee I'll remember what the plot is, but…" He huffed out a chuckle.

Smiling to himself, Liam moved back over to the bookshelf of DVDs and started looking, trying to ignore the weight on his shoulders. He wasn't even worried, necessarily; there was just a heavy energy in the room. Because things were okay, but they weren't good, and they could have been worse, but they could have been a lot better, and he couldn't do anything about it. It was just this sense of futility that made him feel defeated more than upset or afraid.

"How about this one?" Liam grabbed the Bats case from the shelf and turned around. "I like that they wrote the title upside down because… yanno… bats."

Dean let out a faint noise, massaging his injured knee but then making a face like touching the joint made it hurt more. "Go for it."

Shrugging, Sam adjusted the pillow under his arm. "I'm not in any kind of mental state to be making any kind of decision." He scratched at the strap on the medical helmet.

"Then we're gonna watch it." Liam knelt in front of the TV and hit the button to eject the previous disk, all the while trying not to let the weariness get to him.

Everything's gonna be fine.

Castiel flexed his fingers, staring at them and trying to make sense of the sensations in the bones. They appeared straight, like the breaks had been pulled together and mended, but somehow, they only felt marginally different from when he was lying on his back in Stull Cemetery. He curled them, rotating his hands, and then he started to rub and squeeze the points of pain.

Sighing, he dropped his hands onto the bar in the kitchen and glanced around. It was still dark and empty, his late-night excursion for a drink being the only thing that had disturbed the room in hours. He leaned back and pressed a hand to his stomach first, where he had sustained some kind of stab wound, before feeling his way up to the gaping hole in his chest where his grace was supposed to be.

It's been a week since the battle, and I think Sam and Dean are recovering faster than I am. He looked down at himself, completely out of his depth, but for once, he couldn't go to someone for help. No human or angel would know how a body recovered when it was possessed by a regular angel who had consumed large amounts of archangel grace which, apparently, shifted the vessel's body parts back into place but left the pain of the injuries almost entirely untouched in a way that allowed the angel to feel it. I don't want to worry them.

Of course, if he continued sleeping for a minimum of sixteen hours every day, they were probably going to worry regardless. Maybe, if I wait long enough, someone will be able to spare me some of the grace they've replenished, and I can get back on my feet. He reached up and rubbed his forehead, feeling those prickles of pain up and down his fingers. I'm afraid to touch anyone's soul. I have such an unknown concoction of energies in me… regular grace and archangel grace and whatever energy was inflicted on me by the powers of other archangels… I have no idea how that will interact with a soul.

"Meow?"

Castiel startled despite himself, jerking his head to the left just as a ball of black fur landed gracefully on the countertop. "Calypso, you know you aren't supposed to be up here."

She tilted her head, eyes wide and greenish-yellow, and she didn't seem to care that she was breaking the rules. Her tail flicked at the very end, and after a few more seconds of staring, she approached. She walked to the edge of the bar and put her front paws on his chest, leaning forward and rubbing her face against his nose.

Castiel hesitated, not used to picking the familiar up but having seen it done many times. He slowly maneuvered his arms, getting them around and under her, and then he sort of cradled her against his chest, supporting her from beneath. She purred happily, kneading her paws against his collarbone and repeatedly shoving her face against the underside of his chin.

I can see why humans like this. Faintly, almost imperceptibly, a smile pulled on the corner of his mouth. "Thank you, Calypso."

Her only response was to continue rubbing her face against his.