A/N: Thank you Pony, Guest, and Quester for your reviews! I'm glad you've been enjoying this. Now let's finally get to some healing feels.

Chapter 9

Dean stared at his unopened bottle of beer. Normally, he would have downed two by now without a second thought. But he did a lot of things without thinking them through. Deciding to run off to say yes to Michael. Painting that banishing sigil in the panic room. He was thinking now, though. Cas's words swirled around and around in his head, a maelstrom of accusation and bitterness. Dean didn't know whether to feel guilty or angry, because yeah, he'd messed up, but he had owned up to it. Had been trying to make it up to Cas, but the dude had been pointedly ignoring him. Sam was the one who'd been helping Cas adjust to his new human situation, treating the wounds Dean was responsible for, and at least being allowed to freakin' talk to the guy. Dean refused to admit that he was a little hurt by that, but then, it was no less than he deserved. He just wished he knew how to fix it.

And things needed fixing, were in much worse shape than Dean had initially realized. Cas was hurting. Shit, he wanted the Winchesters to put him down? Like a friggin' 'lame horse'? Dean was torn between socking Cas and throwing up. He'd done this to his best friend. And if Dean didn't figure something out soon, they were in danger of losing Cas for good.

He heard the door swing open and then close, and then the creak of the stairs as someone headed up them. A moment later, Bobby wheeled into the kitchen. The older hunter arched a surprised brow at the unopened beer bottle on the table.

"What's the deal with the hammer?" Bobby asked pointedly.

Dean frowned. "What?"

"You said Cas wasn't a hammer; Cas said he is."

Dean's chest constricted. "Cas said that?"

"Yeah. So what's the story?" Bobby snatched the beer off the table and popped the lid off before taking a swig for himself. Dean couldn't even muster up a smidgen of indignation. He leaned his elbows on the table and braced his head in his hands.

"I called Cas a hammer before, back when we were still trying to stop the Seals from breaking and he was all about following orders. Later…he confessed he 'wasn't a hammer,' that he had doubts." Dean shook his head. "If you had seen him then, Bobby, he was…it was the first time he seemed…" Dean curled his mouth at the now distasteful word. "Human. And then…I don't know, Cas got sent back to Heaven for a short time and when he came back he was a dick again."

Which meant, Dean realized with sickening clarity, that this wasn't the first time Zach had tortured Cas.

Bobby sipped his beer slowly. "Well, things are starting to make a little more sense."

"Dammit," Dean muttered. So he hadn't just been careless with his actions, but his words, too. But why did it matter so much? Cas was an angel. He was supposed to be above all the pettiness. So that's supposed to make it okay to treat him like crap? "Shit," he cursed again.

"Get over it," Bobby snipped. "Yeah, you screwed up, but it looks like the roots of this go a lot deeper than just you."

Yeah, and Dean had just reinforced it.

Bobby shook his head. "Can't believe I'm sayin' this, but we've got a depressed fallen angel who doesn't know how to be human. And since he fell trying to help us, I figure we should do our best to help him in return."

"I want to if he would just let me," Dean said bitterly.

Bobby snorted. "Since when do you take 'no' for an answer?" With that, he set the beer back on the table and wheeled away.

Dean considered the bottle for a long moment. In every other situation, he'd down a bit to work up the nerve for something like this. But it was probably better to do it fully sober. So he stood up and made his way upstairs.

Cas's bedroom door was closed, and Dean hesitated outside it. Every time Cas ignored him or told him to go away hurt, like a splinter in his finger worming deeper with each rejection. Well, screw it, Dean was ripping that splinter out. He knocked to announce himself, but didn't wait for an answer before opening the door and entering the room. Cas was sitting by the window, head leaning back against the chair to gaze up at the gloaming sky.

Dean cleared his throat.

"I apologize for my outburst," Cas said, like he'd been holding onto that until Dean came to reprimand him. "And my inconsiderateness toward Bobby."

Dean suddenly wondered what the older hunter had said to Cas outside. It hadn't occurred to him Bobby would be offended by what Cas said, though it made sense. And yet somehow that conversation turned toward Bobby being more understanding of Cas…

"You've been through a lot," Dean said. "You're allowed to lose your shit every once in a while." He took a few tentative steps closer. "What you said…"

"Was callous and unfair."

Dean shook his head. "No, just…" He exhaled sharply. There was a lot that needed to be addressed, but one thing was at the forefront of his worry. "Are you thinking of killing yourself?"

Cas finally angled his head to look up at him. The intensity Dean was so used to seeing in those blue eyes was painfully absent. Cas didn't appear as angry as he'd been downstairs, but there was still a shroud of despondency about him.

"No," he finally said, yet it was blunt and not at all reassuring.

"Okay, that's good." Dean slowly moved to lean against the window sill. "You'll tell me if you start feeling that way?" He swallowed hard. "Or at least tell Sam?"

Cas rolled his shoulder in discomfort. "Those feelings are…unpleasant. I don't want to talk about them."

"I hear you. But Cas…talking about it is the only way to deal with things."

"You don't."

Dean sighed. "I'm not a good role model. In a lot of ways." Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, he moved to crouch in front of Cas, meeting him at eye level. "How can I prove to you that you're not a hammer? Not to us. Not to me. You're…you're my best friend, and I ain't got many of those. Just you and Sam, really."

Cas ducked his gaze doubtfully. Dean reached out to grip his arm. Cas tensed, but at least didn't jerk away.

"I know I haven't done right by you, Cas," Dean continued. "I, I took you for granted, did some awful stuff I can't ever take back. I've done some shitty stuff to Sam, too, and god knows why the kid always forgives me… I don't deserve your forgiveness, either, but even though I can be a jackass sometimes, I promise I won't be like your dick brothers upstairs. I'm not gonna turn my back on you."

Cas was silent, still not looking directly at him, and Dean braced himself for rejection once more.

"My brothers did cast me out…" Cas began, voice catching slightly. His expression pinched with a haunted memory, and Dean wished he could erase everything Zachariah had done. Cas had been through too much. They all had. And how sad was it that pain and loss served to unify them more thoroughly than anything else? But maybe it made the bond stronger.

Dean squeezed Cas's arm. "I'm not going to do that. Neither is Sam, or Bobby. You're family, now. I know the words don't mean much, given everything that's happened. Not…not just with me, but with the other angels. But I will show you, Cas."

Cas didn't say anything for a moment, but he finally lifted his gaze to Dean. "Humans continue to astound me. You and Sam and Bobby have shown me a kindness beyond what even angels are capable of."

There was something tragically backwards about that statement, and Dean was glad he'd never had much faith in a higher power to begin with. The disappointment must be crushing.

"And I know I have not made it easy on you," Cas went on.

Dean shook his head to stop him. "Hell, Cas, I don't make it easy on anyone, either."

There was a small glimmer in Cas's eyes at that, but then he sobered, gaze drifting back toward the window and up at the night sky where stars were starting to pierce the veil. "I don't know how to do this, Dean."

Dean flashed back to that future Cas, doped up to hide from the messy complications of becoming human. He didn't know how his future self had failed Cas in that timeline. Probably the same way he'd failed Sam. That wasn't gonna happen here.

His knees were beginning to lock, so Dean straightened, but moved back to the window to catch Cas's eye again. "I'll help you. I'll teach you how to be human, how to be a hunter. It'll be me, you, and Sam, on the road, fighting monsters." His lips quirked. "The family business."

"If we survive the Apocalypse," Cas said solemnly.

Dean sighed. "Yeah, that."

Cas looked up at him. "If we do, though, I…I think I could manage that. With you and Sam."

Dean allowed himself a small smile. "No matter what happens, Cas, with everything, you'll always have a home here. With us."

Cas nodded slowly, gaze turning slightly inward again. "Home."

Dean's chest constricted with both fear and hope. "Yeah."

Sam didn't know what had happened to cause the shift, but all he knew was that the tension that had been steadily mounting over the past several days seemed to have fizzled out some. When Cas took his seat at the table that night, there was less rigidness in his posture, his expression less hooded. He still looked worn and uncertain, but there was something like a glimmer of openness when Dean asked him how dinner tasted.

Cas furrowed his brow as though it were a question to be given serious consideration. "Tangy."

"That'd be the barbecue sauce," Dean replied without a single hint of exasperation at Cas's literal answer. "Do you like it?"

Cas's frowned deepened. "I…I think so."

Dean grinned like a kid, and took a massive bite out of his own burger. Sam found himself smiling, too, and arched a questioning brow when he caught his brother's gaze. Dean gave him a subtle look that said 'later.'

It wasn't until late, after Cas had gone to bed, that Sam heard about the angel's outburst and Dean finally talking things out with Cas. Sam was relieved his brother had gotten over his emotional constipation. Cas was definitely struggling, and Sam had been really worried about him. As much as he wanted to help, Dean needed to be an active partner in Cas's recovery. Sounded like they had finally made the right first step.

Things were by no means perfect, of course. Cas's feelings about worth and usefulness continued to plague the fallen angel, as evidenced by his throwing himself right back into research the following morning. Sam kinda regretted suggesting Cas help with it, though idleness wasn't going to help him, either. Still, Sam didn't want to unintentionally reinforce some of those deeply rooted—and wrong—beliefs.

He strode into the study that morning with two jackets in hand, and held one out to Cas. "Let's take a break."

Cas frowned at him. "It's not lunch time yet."

"Not that kind of break. The kind where we get out, take a walk."

Cas was still eyeing him dubiously. "The Apocalypse is looming and we're running out of time."

"Bobby and Dean are still here. They can cover while we're gone." Sam softened his expression. "The world's not gonna end if we take an hour for ourselves. And it'll be good for us. That's just as important."

"Alright." Cas reluctantly accepted the jacket and slipped it on. Movement seemed to cause him much less pain now that his wounds were almost fully healed.

Sam led the way out into the yard, but turned the opposite direction from the scrap heaps and toward a field. "Bobby used to play catch with me and Dean out here," he said, smiling fondly at the memory that seemed a lifetime ago.

Cas squinted at the reedy grass and patches of bare dirt. "When your father left you here to go hunt?" he said almost hesitantly.

"Yeah." They walked toward the road, past a stretch of dilapidated fence.

"Sam…"

"Yeah?"

"Your…your father loved you?"

Sam stopped, mouth thinning at the question and wondering where it was coming from. But then he remembered. Cas must have been taking Dean's advice about talking things out to heart. And while Sam thought that was a good thing, he actually wasn't sure he was ready to have this conversation. But getting Cas to open up wasn't easy, and this might be his only opportunity.

Taking a deep breath, Sam looked out over the field, the breeze stinging his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, he did."

"But he still…" Sam looked back as Cas's throat bobbed. "Left. At times."

Sam nodded sadly. "Didn't mean he loved us any less. He just…showed it the best way he knew how." Sam hadn't understood that for a long time. All those fights, the estrangement. But John Winchester hadn't exactly had an easy life. Ran in the family.

Cas's gaze turned solemn. "Yes. I can see that. He…he always came back."

Sam frowned. "Coming back didn't make the abandonment hurt any less. …Or make it acceptable. Even if God came back right now and stopped all this, it wouldn't change how he hurt you."

Cas stared out at the vista. "I've never met him, you know. My father. I don't know why it hurts so much."

"Because he's your dad."

Cas didn't respond, gaze tracking a pair of birds as they dove in and out of each other's flight paths across the field. There was a profound sadness in the angel's bearing as he watched them, and with a jolt, Sam realized Cas must be missing his wings.

Dammit, yet another thing Cas had to deal with. Sam didn't think he'd be able to handle even getting out of bed if he were in Cas's shoes. And he sure as hell didn't know how to help someone get through that kind of thing.

"We should head back," Cas spoke up.

"Yeah, sure." Sam had meant to get them both out for a respite, but now he just felt more beaten down and weary.

"Sam," Cas said again, stopping when they were a few yards from the house. "I cannot thank you enough for everything you've done for me recently."

Sam immediately shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, Cas."

"But I want to," the angel barreled on. "I…I think I might have given up already if it weren't for you."

Sam stood there, stunned. Dean had also mentioned Cas's potential suicidal leanings, but Sam hadn't realized…he didn't think he'd made that much of a difference.

For a brief moment, Cas's gaze resembled the piercing intensity from when he was a full angel. "Everything you've been through in life," Cas started. "You are the epitome of endurance and the power of the human spirit. I…I can only hope to be as strong."

Sam didn't know what to say. That was not how he'd describe himself. He kept going because…well, he just had to. Giving up wasn't an option. It wasn't about being strong. Not for himself, anyway…

Sam reached out to clasp Cas's shoulder. "Funny you should say that, because I was just thinking how strong you are to have survived everything this past year, these past few weeks. I don't think I could have."

Cas ducked his gaze. "It…doesn't feel strong."

Sam gave him a sympathetic smile. "I know it doesn't. Believe me. And surviving is the easy part. Living afterward…that's hard." He tightened his grip. "But we'll help each other."

Cas lifted his head, eyes glistening. He slowly nodded. "Yes."

That's what family was for.

Castiel could not say the next few days were easy. Or better. But they were…less bad. He didn't feel as though he were suffocating, struggling to keep all his roiling emotions locked down tight. They were still there, and flared up from time to time, but he seemed to be getting a better handle on how to deal with them that didn't involve snapping at someone or throwing anything.

He still mainly focused on research and translating ancient texts for Bobby, but would occasionally stop to contemplate things. Sometimes he would go for a walk, either by himself or with Sam. A few times he'd go out to watch Dean work on the Impala, and the silence between them would be companionable rather than fraught with tension. Castiel believed he had forgiven Dean—forgiveness was a choice, after all—though there were times when nightmares of Hell or Michael wearing Dean's face would plague him. Castiel did not talk about those with the older Winchester, but he did confide in Sam. The wounds on his chest faded to light pink, less angry, and with their healing it was almost as though the fury of Castiel's emotions started to heal as well. He began to think of the future with more intent than he had, and though the idea was still daunting, he nevertheless attempted to face it with the staunchness befitting the human spirit he was now counted among.

A case came up, and the boys began packing to head out to Indiana. Castiel, however, wavered when Dean asked him to tag along. He retreated to his room, idly surveying the few hand-me-down clothes he'd started to accumulate. He didn't have any weapons, not like Dean did, and his angel blade was long gone, though he could have just used one the Winchesters had picked up. But while Castiel may have been a skilled fighter, he realized he would have to learn to do things the human way, for there were more vulnerabilities he would have to adjust and account for. He did not want to endanger the brothers.

Decision made, Castiel headed back downstairs.

"Cas, you ready?" Dean asked, slinging his duffel bag over one shoulder.

"I think I should stay here."

Dean straightened. "What? Why?"

Castiel glanced at Sam, searching for signs of disappointment. The younger Winchester merely appeared openly concerned. "I should learn a bit more before I accompany you on real hunts."

Dean frowned. "I told you I'd teach you, Cas."

"I know," he said hurriedly, and then flicked his gaze to Bobby, who had wheeled in to bid them farewell. Castiel turned his attention back to Dean. "I do want to learn from you. You and Sam are exceptional hunters. But…" He hesitated, glancing at Bobby again. "I think I would benefit from starting with the one who taught you."

Dean and Sam exchanged a confused look before they seemed to realize who Castiel had meant.

Bobby scowled when three sets of eyes trained on him. "What is this, Hogwarts School of Hunting?"

"He's right," Sam chimed in. "You are the best."

"I didn't teach you boys half of what you learned, you know that. Besides," he huffed. "I ain't exactly in top condition."

Castiel could feel Dean eyeing him carefully, and shifted to face the Winchester. But instead of hurt or anger, Dean just seemed thoughtful. After another beat, his eyes lit up with understanding.

"You taught us a lot more than that," he said. "And you're twice the teacher Dad ever was." Dean cast Castiel a quick smile. "He won't go easy on you, though. So, last chance to hop in the car with us."

Castiel's lips twitched. "I think I'm up to the challenge."

Dean and Sam grinned, while Bobby continued grumbling incoherent mutterings under his breath.

Dean stepped closer and clapped Castiel on the shoulder. "We'll be back."

Castiel nodded, another stitch of tightness in his chest unraveling. "I know."

A/N: And there we have it, another story coming to a close. One last shout-out to 29Pieces for beta reading. Thanks again to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed! First chapter of the next story will be up Friday, a less angsty, but still full of whump case!fic. *g*