Then
Suffering from the traumatic memories being thrust upon him, Sam begins to breakdown under the onslaught of pain and fear, his mental resilience beginning to crumble. When he still refuses to break, however, Naomi tries to wear him down even further by manipulating memories of Michael attacking Sam's insecurities. Trying to destroy Sam's self-worth, she attempts to convince him he is weak, a failure, and a monster. Sam starts to break even further but finds strength in the thought of his family and fights back. Growing impatient, Naomi decides it is time for Sam to get a taste of what life would be like if the wall were to be taken down entirely.
Now
Chapter Text
Exactly four hours after Dean laid his head down, he feels Cas shaking his shoulder slightly, his eyes snapping open at the sudden contact and flashing to the alarm clock on the bedside table to confirm that Cas hasn't let him sleep any longer than that. It wouldn't be the first time Cas or Bobby or Sammy had let him oversleep out of some misguided concern for his wellbeing. Once he has confirmed that Cas did in fact respect his wish, he lays back, closing his eyes again and allowing himself a small groan. Though he had actually managed to sleep a little bit, it had been far from restful. His subconscious must have picked up on his anxiety and worry for Sammy, and decided the best course of action was to give him vivid dreams of all the possible ways Raphael might be tormenting his brother, the same way it used to give him dreams of what might be happening to Sammy in the Cage. Opening his eyes again, Dean blinks up at the ceiling, anger and despair threatening to paralyze him with their overwhelming weight. Gabriel, Lucifer, Michael, Raphael. Of all the billions and billions of souls that have ever lived, how is it that they all decide to pick on the same human? What did Sam ever do to deserve what they have put him through? And why can't Dean seem to protect him from any of it? He couldn't stop Gabriel from forcing Sam to watch him die over a hundred times. He couldn't stop Lucifer from tracking him down and possessing him. He couldn't stop what Lucifer and Michael did to Sam in the Cage, and, though neither Sam nor Cas ever confirmed it, he is positive Michael took part in whatever tortures Sam endured. For one, Sam ruined his plans, and Dean has yet to ever have met a monster that is just okay with the Winchesters destroying their big plot. For another, when has Sam ever actually had a guardian angel to protect him? Dean's eyes flicker over to Cas, as he moves to rouse Bobby, who similarly to Dean is awake at a single touch, and he frowns. Cas and Sammy have come a long way from their awkward first meeting, and Dean knows Cas cares about Sammy. But all three of them know that it isn't the same. It's Dean and Cas who, as Cas said, have the more profound bond. Dean is the one Heaven sent Cas to rescue, to protect, in the first place. Dean is, or at least was, Cas' mission. And Dean knows that Cas has grown to see both him and Sam as more than a mission, more than just his charges. They are family, brothers. And Cas has gone out of his way, apparently more than Dean had been aware of, to save Sam, and protect him as best he could. But as Dean looks over at the angel, Dean can't help but remember the way Sam looked that first day they met. So hopeful, so excited, to have proof that his prayers weren't going nowhere. That Heaven was real, and angels existed… and they thought he was an abomination. The Boy with the Demon Blood. Dean remembers the devastation in Sam's eyes, the hurt and confusion and fear that he had tried to hide. And while Cas had always gone out of his way to help Dean, to fight for him and follow his lead, that hasn't always been the case with Sam. He threatened Sam's life or stood by while other angels did. He let Sam out of his detox room, and helped keep Dean away from him when Sam needed his brother the most. Throughout the apocalypse, while Sam struggled to fight, to keep the faith, Cas, and Dean, didn't keep that same faith in him. They doubted him, and his convictions, and didn't trust in him the way he unfailingly did for them. And Dean knows Sam doesn't blame Cas for any of that. Hell, he doesn't even blame Dean for any of that. But even Dean who, admittedly isn't always the most observant or… sensitive, person out there, has to admit that it has been rubbed in Sam's face over and over again that he doesn't have any angelic allies, if it comes down to it. Even Cas would choose, and has chosen, Dean if it came down to a choice between them. In fact, the only angel they have ever met who would choose Sam first, put him first, is Lucifer, and isn't that just telling of how screwed Sam has always been? And now, once again, Heaven is screwing him over, because Dean couldn't stop Raphael from taking Sam. But that is where this bullshit ends. Dean won't let Raphael get away with this, with trying to undo everything Sam fought and died for, and if he finds out that Sam has been hurt in any way, shape or form by the bastard, he is going to deep fry himself an archangel. He missed his shot with Gabriel, but he won't miss again. Sitting up, Dean moves across the room, grabbing the demon killing blade, and tossing it to Bobby who has also made his way to his feet, before picking up the angel blade and sliding it into his belt. Bobby catches the blade, sliding it into his belt in a similar fashion to Dean as Cas moves to stand near the door, looking at them grimly.
"You get some sleep?" Bobby asks, studying Dean cautiously. Dean shrugs.
"Some. I'll get more when Sammy is safe." He answers honestly. Bobby sighs but he doesn't look all that surprised.
"You two better get moving then, see if you can find Balthazar. I'll get to work here." He says. "Crowley will be back shortly to help." Cas informs Bobby. "He returned while you both slept and just stepped out to follow a potential lead of his own on where Sam might be." Bobby and Dean exchange sharp looks, neither trusting the demon even slightly, and not exactly thrilled about Crowley maybe getting to Sam before they do. Though Dean is fairly certain Crowley won't use Sam to open the Cage, he can't imagine that Crowley would just let him go either. With the way Crowley treated them when he was holding Sam's soul over their heads, Dean has the unpleasant feeling that he has his own plans for the Winchesters once Raphael has been defeated. But they can't do anything about that right now, Raphael is the bigger threat and getting Sam back, in any way possible, was the priority. Still, leaving Bobby here to deal with the King of Hell leaves a bad taste in Dean's mouth and he frowns at the older hunter.
"Call us if he returns with anything important." He says quietly. "Or if you guys get anywhere with finding Sammy."
"Will do." Bobby promises.
"Or if you need us at all." Dean insists, unable to stop the rising anxiety he is feeling at the thought of leaving Bobby alone with the demon.
"You know, I am capable of handling a demon. I've been dealing with their kind longer than you have been hunting boy." Bobby growls gruffly.
"Yeah, well, the last time you worked with Crowley alone, you sold your soul." Dean points out worriedly, before he can stop himself. Bobby glares at him.
"The only reason I ain't bending you over my knee for that one is because your brother is missing." Bobby says angrily, before he sighs and his expression softens. "I know you are scared, boy, but you gotta keep it together. Don't waste your energy worrying about me, I still got some tricks up my sleeve. Focus on bringing your idjit brother home safely." Dean swallows, nodding.
"Right… you're right, Bobby. Sorry." Dean apologizes. Bobby moves over, gripping the side of Dean's neck and squeezing it once, a sign of affection and comfort he has used with Dean and Sam for as long as Dean can remember, before he starts pushing Dean towards where Cas is waiting.
"Okay, enough with the girly feelings." Bobby says grumpily. "Go track down that angel and leave your keys. I need to get our stuff out of the Impala, including that half-assed computer thing Sam gave me, unless Cas wants to drop me off at my place where my real computer is. I'd rather not waste the hours it would take to drive back if I don't have to."
"I can fly you." Cas says calmly. "I would like to pick up some of the holy oil Sam has been keeping there if I may as well, before Dean and I go after Balthazar."
"Sam has been keeping holy oil there?" Dean asks, frowning. Bobby looks equally as puzzled. Cas tilts his head, a look of surprise and confusion in his eyes.
"You didn't notice?" Cas asks, frowning. "Ever since he got his soul back, he keeps some near his bed at all times. Under the bed at Bobby's, or in the drawer of the nightstand if you are staying at a motel like this one. He also keeps an angel blade nearby as well." Dean stares at Cas, shocked, even as understanding flashes across Bobby's face, though Dean dismisses it for the moment. How hadn't he noticed Sam doing that before? And more importantly…
"Why would he do that?" He asks, even though he thinks he knows the answer. Cas' expression turns to something like a mixture of guilt and pity, and even Bobby is looking at him with more sympathy than normal.
"He is trying to protect himself, I would guess." Cas says softly, looking away uncomfortably. "From angels."
"From Lucifer specifically, I would imagine." Bobby says gently, looking at Cas as he gives the angel an out. Cas looks back at him, nodding slowly and looking grateful for Bobby's distinction.
"But Lucifer is in the Cage." Dean insists. Bobby sighs. "Why would Sam still be scared of him? I mean, okay, stupid question but… his memories of Lucifer are blocked, right? Behind the Wall? So, it isn't like he remembers what Lucifer did to him… so what is there for him to be afraid of?"
"Well for starters, he hasn't forgotten everything, Dean." Bobby says patiently. "He remembers before the Cage. Being hunted by Lucifer, being… possessed by him. I imagine Sam still remembers what the asshole did to all of us in that cemetery, using Sam's hands. That boy spent a year being told he was going to burn the world with Lucifer wearing him to the prom. And then he has spent the last couple of months being told that what happened to him is so horrible it will either smash his mind to pieces if he remembers it, or it will kill him outright. He hasn't exactly had a whole lot of comforting moments recently, to set his mind at ease, especially with regards to angels."
"Not to mention, while his conscious mind has been shielded from his memories of Hell, his soul, and his body still remember what has been done to him." Cas says gently. "It is natural for the kind of fear Sam endured to remain, long after the cause for the fear has been removed, and Sam will most likely carry it to some degree for the rest of his life. I am sure you of all people can understand that, Dean." Cas looks at him pointedly, and he looks away, clenching his fists, understanding what Cas is getting at, without saying it directly. And he isn't wrong. Dean is still terrified of Hell. He can feel the terror beyond just a racing heart, and heavy breaths, and shaky hands. He feels it beyond the nightmares, which still wake him in the middle of the night, frozen and paralyzed until he can remember he isn't in the Pit anymore. He feels it in his very soul, in his heightened senses, when he is hunting, or researching, or even just teasing his brother. He feels it when he is drinking, or even slightly lowering his guard. This indefinable sense of fear, or wariness, that has his guard wanting to rise, his hair standing up on end, even if he is at Bobby's, or in a warded motel room, or even just driving Baby. A sense of being stalked, watched. Of course, he hasn't felt that particular sense of dread in a while, not intensely enough to really register anyways. Ever since… Crap. Ever since Alistair died. His monster, his tormentor, was dead. Dead, and gone, and buried, and never coming after Dean again. He hadn't seen Sammy kill Alistair, but he saw the corpse. Sam had sprung him from that hospital and lit the match for Dean to burn the body. He hadn't really thought about it much back then, just soaked in the fierce vindictiveness of watching Alistair burn for the last time, but he gets it now, what Sam was doing. Sam gave Dean closure, helped him well and truly put Alistair behind him. It didn't change what Alistair did to Dean, it didn't erase his pain, and it didn't cure his fear… but knowing Alistair is gone helped Dean let it go, in a quiet, subtle way that he hadn't even realized until now. He is still afraid, deep down, but it isn't controlling him. It isn't overwhelming, or lingering. He can detach himself from it and move forwards. His fear is bearable now. And of course, what Dean went through, that kind of fear doesn't ever just go away. But as Dean thinks about it, really thinks about it, he realizes that it has lost its power over him. With every three am conversation after his nightmares, with Sam holding his shoulders, and whispering reassurances that he is okay, he is safe. With every shoulder brush against his when Dean drinks a little too much, or becomes a little too broody, Sam steady and solid at his side. With every hunt where Sam covers his back, backs his play, follows his orders and just allows Dean to have the control he needs over the situation, control he had lost in Hell and so desperately fights for now. Every doe-eyed, big, innocent gaze Sam sends his way, when he is trying to push them into a chick-flick moment and decides to weaponize the puppy-dog look that he perfected when he was two. Ever since his return from Hell, Sam has steadily, consistently, faithfully worked to help Dean gain control over his fear. Tirelessly, and thanklessly. Dean had never noticed before, between the angels and the apocalypse and being so messed up at first by his memories of Hell, but now it all flashes through his head, like a reel, showcasing the effort Sam put into helping Dean heal, and move forward, pulling him kicking and fighting in some cases, and carrying him when Dean was so overwhelmed, drowning in the pain and fear. The damn kid has been saving Dean for years now, and Dean couldn't even get his head out of his ass to notice until just now, with just a simple revelation of Sam's behavior, behavior Dean didn't even notice. What kind of big brother was he? He had assumed that because that day in Stull Cemetery was so long ago, and because of the Wall protecting him, that Sam was okay. But… because of the Wall, Stull wasn't that long ago for Sammy. Months, verses the almost two years it has been for Dean. When Sammy first got his soul back, his most recent memories were of falling to Hell. Has he even had a chance to process all of that, his possession, his death? They have been so busy, between the rise in monsters, and Cas' war, and Crowley being an even bigger dick than usual that Dean can't remember if he even talked to Sammy about any of it even once. And he doesn't even have the excuse of not wanting to scratch Sam's wall, because as Bobby pointed out, those memories weren't forgotten. He was just so relieved to have his brother back, properly back, and he was so desperate to keep him safe, and okay. What else has he been blinded to? What other signs did he miss that maybe Sam wasn't as okay as he thought? Dean groans, running his hands through his hair. He owes his baby brother the mother of all chick flick moments when this is all over. Heaven, Hell, monsters, all of it be damned, he needs to sit down with Sammy and actually talk to him. The guy who saved the world deserves that much. But in order to have that long, long overdue conversation, he needs to find his brother first and maybe stab a couple of angels repeatedly in the process.
"You're right." He finally says, turning back to where Cas and Bobby are watching him. "I… I never thought about it, but you are right. Both of you. Of course Sammy was scared… and this isn't going to have made that any better." Dean shakes his head, trying to clear the guilt from his mind, because this is so not the time for him to spiral into his usual self-loathing. He had his time to mope, to mourn and grieve, and blame himself for what happened to Sammy. He had a year with Lisa to deal with the Apocalypse, and everything that happened during that year, to process it all. And, yeah, while Sam was soulless it sucked, and he had never felt more alone, but Sammy more than made up for everything that his soulless self had put him through by being there, being himself, and supporting Dean through every crap storm that blew their way. Eve, the alphas, losing Rufus, losing the Campbells, all of it. Now it was Dean's time to give Sam that same kind of support. "Cas, go get that oil but, er… when we are done with it, can you put it back where you found it? So it is there for Sam?" Cas nods, giving Dean a small, slightly strained smile. Bobby grips Dean's neck again, squeezing once.
"Don't do anything stupid, idjit." Bobby says quietly.
"I would never." Dean replies, grinning widely. Bobby rolls his eyes, moving over to Cas, and in the blink of an eye, the older hunter and the angel are gone. Dean barely has time to pace once to the small table and back to the bed, before Cas is back, a small jug in one hand. "Are you ready?" Cas asks. Dean nods sharply, gripping the handle of his angel blade. Cas reaches out and grabs Dean's arm, and with a flap of Cas' wings they are suddenly standing in a… in a cave? Dean blinks, confused, as Cas moves away from him, starting to draw a circle with the holy oil. Dean spins around, studying the heavy stone walls, damp stone ground and looming stone ceiling, with sharp, pointy rocks that he is pretty sure Sam would know what they are called hanging over their heads, dripping water onto the floor. About ten feet away, the cave opens up into a mouth, and as Dean takes a step towards it, he hears the roaring rush of wind. As he looks outside, he freezes in shock. There is almost nothing below the lip of the cave except a very, very steep slope of seemingly endless loose rocks and powdery white snow. A chill rushes over Dean, though from the cold or the height, Dean isn't sure. He stumbles back into the cave, turning his back on the dizzying drop, and moving closer to Cas. "Hey, uh, Cas… where exactly did you bring us?" Dean asks, trying for as casual a tone as he can.
"Mount McKinley." Cas says calmly, focusing on making sure there isn't any gaps in the holy oil.
"And… do I look like Sammy? Am I supposed to know where that is?" Dean asks.
"You do bare a similar resemblance to your brother, although your eyes are different, and you favor your mother slightly more." Cas answers disinterestedly. Dean rolls his eyes impatiently. "As for Mount McKinley, it is a few hours north of Anchorage, though not as far north as Fairbanks." Fairbanks… Anchorage… wait.
"Alaska?" Dean demands. "You zapped us to Alaska?"
"Of course." Cas looks up at Dean, frowning. "This is a meeting point for my followers here on Earth. No human except for the very best of mountaineers can reach this cave, so there is no danger of any one stumbling across us accidentally." He puts aside the jug of holy oil, standing up and hesitating. "Dean I must confess I… am hesitant about doing this. Balthazar is a trusted friend. I truly don't think he would betray me."
"I don't think he would either, Cas, but… maybe he isn't trying to betray you." Dean says cautiously. "I mean… your plan with the souls, it was kind of reckless. And by that, I mean totally insane." Cas frowns at Dean. "Hey, you wanted honesty right? You wanted us to tell it to each other straight? You were getting kind of scary, Cas." Dean hesitates, before stepping closer to the angel. "Look, I'm not saying I don't get it, cause I do. I promise, I understand now. But that doesn't make what you were doing any less dangerous. You were messing with something that could have had horrible consequences, and not just for us, Cas, or your followers, or Heaven. That much power can't come without some kind of price, it just can't. And I know Balthazar was as worried about that as we were."
"How…" Cas sighs, a tired, heavy look appearing in his eyes. "He was working with you, wasn't he?" Dean nods slowly.
"Not for long, just… just since Lisa and Ben." Dean admits. "And Cas, it wasn't to hurt you. None of us want to be your enemy, we trust in you and we believe in you, and what you are trying to do. It is just the way you were going about it…" Cas sighs, looking away.
"I just want to keep you all safe… to show my siblings a better way than what we were told was the only way." Cas says softly.
"I know, man." Dean nods. "And you will. We will beat Raphael, I promise you." He moves forward, gripping Cas' shoulder. "But we will do it together. Team Free Will, right?" Cas studies Dean, smiling gratefully.
"You know, it is funny I… I prayed, to my father." Cas admits. "I asked him, before I went to take Sam, to give me a sign, any indication that I was on the right track, or maybe even a sign that I was not. Maybe Raphael taking Sam was the sign I was looking for. Maybe that needed to happen, so I would be willing to listen to you, even though perhaps I should have been doing that anyways."
"That's bull, Cas." Dean says sternly. Cas looks back at him, frowning and Dean continues, keeping the frank honesty in his voice that he knows Cas needs to here. "You knew what you were doing was wrong, but you were doing it for the right reasons, so it was easy to justify it to yourself. And every time you got a twinge of guilt, every time you had to lie to me, or to Sam, it was okay because what is a small lie in the scheme of things? When you are saving Heaven, or the world, when it is for the greater good, what does it matter if you use your friends as a distraction so you can get the weapons you need? Or you leave a friend who is incredibly vulnerable with a psycho lunatic who would sacrifice his grandchildren so that he can get what he wants? You never needed a sign to let you know you were on the wrong path because you already knew it. Because you are a good man, Cas. And good men can tell right from wrong. And look, I get it… I get it Cas. Trying to balance the greater good, with the small decisions of right versus wrong, it is hard. It's hard, and messy, and difficult and we don't always get it right. Even the best people make mistakes, or choose wrong, or they slip on one side of the tightrope or the other between bigger picture and the here and now. And you won't ever here me say you are evil, Cas, or what you did was evil. But it wasn't right either. And you know that. You knew it when you came up with it, but it was the best option that you had. I've been there."
"With Sam?" Cas asks softly, and Dean shakes his head.
"No. Well, yes, but that isn't what I am talking about. Sam… what Sam did with Lilith, it is a good example of what I am saying. Justifying the means by the ends. But I did the same thing to. Growing up… I made a lot of mistakes, especially when it came to Sam. When I turned eighteen, I should have taken Sam and ran, away from hunting, away from our father. Hunting was killing Sam, I could tell. He hated it, and he was scared. We were homeless, living in Baby, or moving from motel to motel, town to town. Sam was ripped away from any friends he had, he was constantly changing schools. We were always low on money, on food, on clothing. He didn't get Christmas, or Thanksgiving the way he should have. But, we were saving lives, and according to Dad that trumped everything. What did it matter if we were poor, if we stopped a werewolf from killing another family? Why shouldn't we train until our muscles gave out, until we were bloody and sweaty and so exhausted we got sick, if it meant more monsters would be killed? School didn't matter, friends didn't matter, not being scared for five minutes didn't matter, because it wasn't hunting. Dad raised us to believe that, but Sam never could. And… I never should have. Yeah, saving lives was important, but us being okay was important to. Sammy getting an education, and not getting concussed, or bruised, or beaten every other day was important. Having a stable, consistent roof over our heads was important. But it wasn't hunting. If it didn't further the goal of hunting, I put it on the back burner. I was like you, Cas. Working for the greater good, to the point where I stopped… I stopped being good. I stopped being a good brother, our Dad stopped being a good father. The big picture is important Cas, but so is the small one. The little choices, the small decisions we make, because if we stop making the right choices when it is as small as… as letting a kid stay in town to finish a math test that is important to the little geek instead of racing off to meet your dad and buy more ammo out of state, or as telling your friends that you need them to help you with a distraction, if we stop valuing making the right decision in those tiny moments, then there is no more greater good. Good can't be fought for with… with lies, and deceit and resentment. It can't be fought for with bullying, or manipulation, or secrets, because that isn't doing the right thing. And it seems small, inconsequential, but those little decisions add up. To a resentful, angry kid who runs away from his family, because he doesn't feel like he belongs. To pushing away your only family, because it is easier to be angry with them than it is to offer a hand out to help. To kidnapping and lying to someone you want to protect and getting them in more danger than they might have been otherwise. You want a sign, Cas? The sign that you are on the wrong path is when it starts getting easy. Easy to lie to your friends. Easy to use force to get what you want. Easy to do something that has no business being easy. Doing the right thing isn't supposed to be easy, Cas, and when it starts to feel that way… that is your sign to turn back. You don't need God, you don't need a damn demon. All you need is you. And, occasionally, your family, so they can kick your butt back into proper gear." Dean stares into Cas' eyes as he finishes speaking, refusing to look away as he watches the angel take in his words.
"I should have gone to you that day. At Lisa's." Cas says after a long moment, regret filling his eyes. "All of this could have been avoided…"
"Yeah. You should have, and yeah it could have been." Dean agrees. "But you didn't, and now we are here. The past is the past, but it isn't too late to still make the right choice. So tell me Cas… being the good man that you are, what do we do next?" Cas studies Dean for another moment, before pacing away to stand on the other side of the circle, closing his eyes for a moment, before opening them as he stands opposite Dean.
"Balthazar is on his way." Cas announces. "We find out what he knows, and we go get Sam back. Then we stop Raphael, and we deal with Crowley. Together." Dean nods, giving his friend a quick, grateful smile. He knows he has been hard on Cas, but there is also a sense of… relief. This time, Dean thinks he got it right. He pulled Cas in from the cold, he gave him the comfort, and the direction he had been looking for. He gave Cas understanding and advice, instead of cruel insults and alienation. He will never fix the damage he did to Sam during his addiction to demon blood, or forgive himself for what he did, but he can do better. He can be better. And Dean knows that if he does that, he'll make Sam proud. That this, helping Cas, embracing him and his flaws and his faults instead of rejecting him and punishing him for them, is what Sam would want. And, as he thinks about that, he realizes that he can't wait to tell his brother all about his amazing growth and sudden maturity, and brag that his awesome big brother skills saved the day, once again. And Sam will groan, and roll his eyes, and give him a bitch face and everything will be perfect. But first things first. There is the usual ruffle of wings that signals an arriving or departing angel, and Balthazar, the smug bastard, appears between Cas and Dean, hands in his pocket. He glances once at Dean, raising an eyebrow, before turning to Cas.
"I didn't realize we were bringing guests to our secret hideaway, Cas." Balthazar says drily. "If you had told me, I would have brought much more entertaining ones."
"I needed to talk to you, Balthazar." Cas says calmly. "Dean is here because we have an urgent matter to discuss. Not to entertain." Cas raises his hand and the holy oil catches on fire, rising up quickly around the angel, who jumps in surprise.
"Oh, well, urgent matters sound better than lap dances and debauchery anyways." Balthazar remarks, quickly schooling his expression back into a blasé detachment. "What can I do for you?"
"Raphael has Sam Winchester." Cas says grimly. Balthazar blinks in surprise. Dean studies the angel closely, looking for any signs of deception. "And, we have reason to believe that he is also aware of the spell to open the Cage and intends to use Sam to release Michael and Lucifer."
"Holy hell." Balthazar blinks quickly, glancing over at Dean. "And, where exactly were you when this was going down Dean?" Dean scowls, folding his arms across his chest.
"Trying to stop a couple of morons from opening a different interdimensional doorway." Dean snaps. Balthazar rolls his eyes, turning back to Cas.
"I assume this means we need to find Sam before Raphael can do the spell." He says, and Cas nods.
"In order to stop him though, we need to find Sam. Which is why I brought you here. I need you to be honest, Balthazar. Did you tell Raphael about the spell? About Sam?" Cas asks calmly. Balthazar furrows his brows, looking shocked by the question, and part of Dean relaxes. He may not know everything, but he has been reading monsters and people and angels his entire life, and there is a genuine confusion to Balthazar that makes him think he has no idea where this is coming from.
"I would never, Cas." Balthazar says earnestly, confirming what Dean suspects. "The last thing I want is Michael and Lucifer flying free again, and after everything Raphael has done to me, I have no reason to tell him anything. I am still regenerating my lung from the last nasty he sent after me." Cas studies Balthazar, frowning and Dean does the same, but from what Dean can tell, he doesn't think Balthazar is lying. "Besides, after everything I have done for you, I doubt Raphy would let me anywhere near him without trying to incinerate me." Cas looks at him for another moment, before nodding.
"I believe you." Cas says softly. Balthazar relaxes slightly as Cas looks at Dean. "What do you think Dean?" Dean glances at Balthazar, who seems nervous, but still imperious as he regards Dean. Haughty, but not overtly arrogant or desperate to be believed. But if Balthazar isn't the spy… who is? Dean scowls, frustrated by the setback but he looks to Cas.
"I believe him to. Which means you probably don't know where Sam is, do you?" Dean asks, as Cas raises his hand and the holy fire slowly dies out. Balthazar steps out of the circle as soon as he is free.
"No, but I do know people who might. Should I put out the word?" Balthazar asks, turning to look at Cas. He nods.
"Yes… tell everyone, finding and retrieving Sam Winchester is our number one priority. Also spread the word that, for the time being, I will be with Dean Winchester and Bobby Singer if they need me." Cas orders. Balthazar nods, disappearing with a flap of his wings, and Dean sighs.
"Well, that was a bust." Dean complains.
"Not entirely." Cas says thoughtfully. "I do believe Balthazar, which means there are fewer people on the list of who could have told Raphael."
"Okay, well, why don't you bring me back to the motel, we'll pack up and head back to Bobby's with Baby. You can tell me about who else it might be on the way." Dean suggests. "Maybe we can narrow down another suspect to go after."
"Yes, that's a good idea." Cas says, nodding, and reaching out a hand, the angel and the hunter disappearing in a flurry of wings. Outside the cave, cloaked under the protection of Raphael's grace, another angel stirs, spreading their own wings and flying to the large mansion their brother has commandeered from a human televangelist. Landing outside the doors to his brother's study, the angel knocks.
"Enter." Raphael's voice calls. Pushing open the door, the angel moves in quickly, eager to make his report, though he hesitates when he steps inside. "Ah, Ezekiel, welcome back. I take it you found them?" Ezekiel takes his eyes off of Raphael's guest, who is sitting comfortably in one of the chairs, a glass of brandy in one hand. Instead, Ezekiel focuses on his brother.
"I did. In the mountain cave, the Winchester boy and Castiel. They are looking for the Abomination, and thought Balthazar had betrayed them, at least at first, but they let him go and are now retreating to Robert Singer's to regroup." Ezekiel reports.
"As you said they would." Raphael says, turning towards the guest. The man, a paunchy, pompous, arrogant looking man dressed in all black, takes a sip of his brandy and flashes a wide, wicked grin.
"See? I told you could trust me." Crowley says smugly.