A/N: Season 11 is really supplying fodder for the muse. I am enjoying the twists the season's arc is taking, but waiting for the Winchesters to save Cas is killing me. (And will someone smack Sam?) So yeah, here's another one. ;)

Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural. Spoilers for 11x18 "Hell's Angel." Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading.

"Please"

Dean didn't know why it'd taken him so long to figure out. After all, it'd happened before. He knew he shared some kind of strange bond with Amara. It kept him from killing her when she was still a child, possibly still vulnerable. As much as he wanted to deny it, she held some kind of power over him. And it was that resistance that dampened his ability to sense her—until he realized he needed it.

If he'd been in the bunker, he probably would have told Sam what he was doing, but as it was, Dean had been out on a supply run when the epiphany hit. And the moment he opened himself up to that connection with Amara, it was like falling under a trance again. He turned east as though on auto pilot, taking turns he couldn't rationally explain. Until he ended up at an old train yard.

Dean exited the car, leaving his phone on the front seat. He didn't even stop at the trunk to grab extra weapons, and the gun he always carried wouldn't be much against what he felt lurking nearby. A distant part of him realized this was bad, very bad. He didn't know what Amara would have done with him if they hadn't been interrupted by the angels at the park. But even if Dean could muster the wherewithal to break the stupor and turn and run, he wouldn't. The last they had heard of Amara and Lucifer was back when the Horn of Joshua failed to defeat the Darkness. And then Amara had taken off with the archangel—with Cas. Dean needed to know…

He moved slowly, almost dazedly, toward a warehouse. The old yard wasn't in use anymore, with train cars left abandoned on the tracks, sides spray painted in an array of obnoxious colors. Dean found the door unlocked, and slipped inside. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dingy space, lit only by musty light filtering through oxidized windows up near the ceiling.

He spotted Amara first; senses always drawn straight to her. She was standing in the middle of the warehouse, gazing at him in silent contemplation. She'd probably sensed him coming as well.

"Hello, Dean."

He swallowed, finally feeling a smidgeon of self-control trickle back in, at least enough to find his mind and voice, if not his legs. "This where you've been camping out?"

Dean roved his gaze around the warehouse, and his heart seized at the sight of Cas—Lucifer—pinned to the side of a train car, limbs spreadeagled, chin slumped down against a chest heaving with labored breaths. Slitted blue eyes, cold as ice, flicked up to glance at him. Dean could feel the hatred wafting off the Devil, though it was difficult to tell exactly who it was directed at.

"Why are you here?" Amara asked.

Dean tore his attention away from the archangel and back to her. "I…I'm here for Cas."

Amara's brows knitted together in confusion.

"Castiel," Dean clarified, and glanced back at his friend. Lucifer looked wretched, making Dean wonder what exactly Amara had done to him. So much for the archangel being a match for her.

"Well," Lucifer wheezed. "I'm touched."

Amara's expression hardened. "I'm not through with Lucifer yet."

"Not Lucifer," Dean snapped. "Cas. I…" God, what was he even doing? He shouldn't have come here, alone, without a plan. He couldn't exorcise Lucifer from Cas, and if their last attempt was anything to go by, Cas wasn't in any condition to eject the Devil.

Dean straightened suddenly. "Can you get Lucifer out of Castiel?"

Amara canted her head slightly as she considered him. If a Hand of God and the power of an archangel couldn't touch her, surely she could do this…

A grunt came from Lucifer. "I have to veto that idea," he ground out.

Amara ignored him. "And why would I do that?" she asked. Not mockingly, not with scathing undertones. Just posing the question.

Dean's heart was palpitating wildly in his chest. He knew the dangerous knife edge he walked here. If Amara wanted to, she could probably take him right here and now. But, as much as he was drawn to her, she seemed almost equally drawn to him. Was it real, or a misguided sentiment on her part? Either way, Dean could only hope that he could use that.

"Because…" He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I'm asking. Give me Cas. You can keep Lucifer, do whatever the hell you want with him. Just let me take Castiel and go."

"Hey—"

Amara waved her hand, and Lucifer cut off with a choking sound.

Dean held his breath as she scrutinized him, glancing between him and the struggling angel hanging from the train car.

"Why?" she asked again, sounding genuinely confused. "There is hardly anything left of Castiel. He wasn't even worth consuming his grace the last time we met."

Dean's chest constricted. He remembered Cas going to investigate the smiting, remembered the bloody words Amara had carved into the angel's chest when he returned to report the angels' attack had failed. Dean had been too worried about Sam being stuck in the Cage to give that incident much thought, but what if whatever happened in that confrontation between Cas and Amara helped lead Cas to saying yes to Lucifer?

Dean gave himself a mental shake. That was done and over. He needed to focus on what he could do now. "Cas is family to me. I know you've got a beef with your brother and nephew, so family doesn't mean much to you, but it does to me. I would die for Cas." Hot moisture pricked the corners of his eyes as hope desperately clawed at his throat. "So…please. Okay? Please. Give him back."

Amara stared at him for several long moments before finally turning and striding over to Lucifer. The archangel's cheeks puffed red as he strained against the invisible force holding his body and tongue. Dean's breathing hitched when Amara raised a palm to Lucifer's chest. Tipping her head back, her hand began to glow, and then it sank into the angel's sternum. Lucifer's eyes flew wide as a scream rent from his throat.

Dean almost took a step forward, but the power radiating from the two beings held him back. Lucifer screamed without ceasing, light blazing from inside his mouth. Dean's eyes could barely stand the nova, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. He wanted to scream back, beg Amara to stop, but then she started removing her hand, and with it came pearly blue wisps of energy. Angel grace.

For a moment, Dean was afraid she was ripping Cas right out of his vessel, but as the scorching gold light of Amara's power waned, he was able to see slivers of black interspersed with the grace, pulsing with rage. Lucifer, then.

Amara stepped back, hand fisted around the writhing energy as it fought to escape. A high-pitched vibration shook the windows and rattled Dean's eardrums as Lucifer's true voice railed against his captor. Amara merely gave him a simpering look before slapping her hands together with a thunderous clap. When she pulled them apart, gold energy elongated into a long cylinder, inside which Dean caught glimpses of Lucifer thrashing around the containment. Amara glanced at Cas's vessel for a moment, and then cocked her head. Cas fell from where he'd been pinned to land face first on the ground.

Dean finally couldn't restrain himself any more, and he ran forward, dropping to his knees beside Cas and turning the angel over. Blood streamed out his right ear and one corner of his mouth.

"Cas?" Dean took his shoulders and gave him a slight shake. The angel was completely limp, and Dean had to choke back a cry. He looked up at Amara desperately, unsure what he was even asking for.

"He's in there," she said blandly, gaze ghosting over Cas with barely concealed disgust. "But I told you there wasn't much left."

Dean slipped an arm under Cas's shoulder blades and pulled him up, clutching him tightly to shield him from the disregard in her tone. She hadn't agreed to let them go yet. "It's enough."

Amara was silent, staring at them, and Dean tried not to fidget. Cas wasn't waking up, and they were still vulnerable. But Dean almost had a feeling, a whisper of a whisper, really, of the way Amara looked at them. Perplexity mixed with longing. None of the members of the celestial family had ever treated each other with such devotion. It was almost enough to make Dean feel sorry for her.

Almost. Or it was the bond they shared influencing him. Dean clenched his fingers in Cas's jacket. There was a bond there, too, one Dean hoped was stronger because he'd chosen it. Family don't end with blood. But they would willingly bleed for each other.

Finally, Amara turned and simply began walking away, the lantern of Lucifer's imprisoned grace swinging lightly in her hand.

Dean's tongue and throat felt like sandpaper, and a small part of him hated the words he forced out in a barely audible voice. "Thank you."

Amara paused, almost turned her head, but then kept walking, leaving Dean alone in an abandoned warehouse with an unconscious angel.

Getting Cas back to the bunker wasn't easy. Especially with Sam yelling in his ear on the phone as Dean drove.

"You did what!"

"I didn't mean to go looking for her," Dean said. "It just…happened." And that sounded almost as bad, maybe worse.

"Shit," Sam muttered, as though understanding the implication. "And…she just exorcised Lucifer and left with him? Just like that?"

Dean's jaw tightened. "Yeah." He hesitated. "Because I asked her to."

He glanced in the backseat where Cas was sprawled, still out cold. It'd looked like Amara had been torturing Lucifer, which meant Cas's vessel had taken the brunt of it. Plus, there was no telling what shape he was in from Lucifer possessing him. But as long as Cas woke up, having him back was enough. That's all that mattered.

"I'm five minutes out," Dean said, and hung up.

Sam was waiting for him in the garage when he finally pulled into the bunker. Dean endured his brother's critical eye as he climbed out and opened the back door. Then Sam moved forward to help get Cas. With some maneuvering, the Winchesters got Cas's arms slung over their shoulders so they could half-drag, half-carry him down to a bedroom where they laid him gently on a bed.

Dean ran a weary hand down his face. They'd actually done it. They managed to bring the idiot home.

Now Cas just needed to wake up and let them know he was still alive.

Sam's mouth pressed into a tight line as he watched the unconscious angel. "We gonna talk about you and Amara?" he asked quietly.

"No." Dean grabbed the back of the chair by the writing desk and dragged it next to the bed where he sank into it. Even if he wanted to talk about it, which he didn't, Dean didn't know what to say. Sam already knew Amara had some kind of hold over Dean, and Dean didn't have any new insight on the matter, so why bother rehashing it?

He was frankly just more confused. Even though it'd been his intention to try manipulating Amara's…"fondness" for him to his own use, Dean hadn't been one hundred percent sure it would work. And the fact that it had also left him mystified and mired in doubt. He had no answers for Sam, because he didn't have any answers for himself.

"Did you get any of the supplies before you went after her?" Sam spoke up again.

"Oh, yeah. They're in the trunk."

Nodding wordlessly, Sam left the room, presumably to take care of it. Dean couldn't bring himself to care. He watched the steady rise and fall of Castiel's chest, hoping his best friend really was in there.

Dean leaned forward, arms braced on his thighs. "Come on, Cas."

He had a lot he wanted to say to the angel, most of it along the lines of how stupid Cas had been to say yes, what was he thinking, and so forth. Part of his anger stemmed from the fact that it'd all been a waste. Lucifer wasn't enough to defeat Amara, even with a Hand of God. Which basically meant they were all screwed. But hey, they'd go down fighting together, as they always did.

"I'm not mad at you, Cas," Dean found himself saying. "I get why you did it, I do. Sam and I have both been there, making deals because we thought it was the right thing." He let out a long breath. "What I don't understand is you giving up. Even if Lucifer was our best shot, you didn't take this on expecting to come out the other side. You didn't expect me and Sam to save you. You…" Dean's voice hitched. "You didn't want to be saved. And…there is so much wrong with that, I don't even know where to start."

A shadow moved in his peripheral vision, and Dean jerked upright to find Sam hovering in the doorway, a glass of water and sandwich plate in hand. Dean's face grew warm, and he turned his head away.

"Sorry," Sam said under his breath, still wavering. "I thought you might be hungry after everything."

In truth, he was exhausted from his encounter with Amara, both physically and emotionally. "Thanks."

Sam slowly entered the room and handed the food and drink to Dean. Then he moved around to the other side of the bed and slowly sank onto the mattress next to Cas. "What you said…" he began. "About Cas not expecting us to save him…"

"What about it?" Dean growled, irked that Sam had overheard him. It'd been more of a prayer, really, something personal. Dean had just always found it easier to say those kinds of things out loud, as though it might make it easier for Cas to hear. Especially now.

"It's no wonder he thought that," Sam continued, voice soft, almost as though speaking to himself. "I mean, look how quick I was to suggest Cas stay Lucifer's vessel. I didn't give any thought to saving him."

Dean's throat grew tight, and he had to gulp down some water to clear it. He'd been dumbfounded when Sam had said that, when he'd called Cas an 'it,' as though he were a damn hammer they could just throw at the Darkness and write off if it didn't work.

It always came back to that—Cas being useful. Sure, Cas hadn't overheard that conversation, but how many subtle indications had the angel received over the years to drill that into his mind? Dean leaving Cas in that ring of holy fire without giving his best friend a chance to explain himself about Purgatory and the civil war in Heaven. Dean leaving Cas behind in the mental institution because it would just be too hard trying to take care of him on the road. Leaving him in Purgatory…and yeah, Cas had chosen to stay there, but was that the first preemptive move Cas had made in anticipation of Dean deciding at the last minute not to save him?

Then there'd been when Dean kicked him out of the bunker. Oh, he'd saved Cas from the reaper, but giving him the boot immediately after? That was hardly a save. Dean used to get pissed when Cas wouldn't come to them for help, but maybe the angel was afraid of rejection. After all, when he'd been under Rowena's curse, he'd turned to other angels first, angels who'd already declared their hatred for him. Cas had shown up at the bunker as a last resort, not because he trusted Dean and Sam to drop everything and help him, but because he'd had nowhere else to go.

But family was supposed to be your first stop.

"I'm sorry," Sam said quietly, though it wasn't quite clear who he was apologizing to. "You were right, Dean. Cas is family, and he deserves more than that from me."

Dean dropped his gaze to the floor. "More from me, too. It wasn't just you who may have planted that seed in his head. We…we both took turns casting him aside."

Images of Dean's fists slamming into Cas's face, of angling an angel blade up to strike his heart and threatening to kill him, flashed through Dean's mind. He shook his head roughly to dispel the memory.

"And who knows what happened with Amara," he continued, voice hoarse. "While you were in the Cage, I mean. Cas went to see if the angel smiting worked or not, and it sounded like they had a confrontation of some kind."

It wasn't just that, though, and Dean knew it. Cas had been off ever since Rowena's spell, spending days in front of Netflix. "Healing," they'd all said, but never addressing that it might be something more than that. Oh, and then there'd been Metatron, but Dean had been too worked up over his own impotence in fighting Amara that he'd taken it out on Cas for letting the douche ex-angel live.

He dropped his head into his hands. So many things he would take back if he could.

"Dean," Sam suddenly said urgently, and he whipped his gaze up to find Cas's eyelids fluttering. Sam leaned closer. "Cas?"

Dean held his breath as glazed blue eyes blinked slowly several times before a semblance of lucidity took root.

Cas frowned, and rasped, "Sam?"

"Yeah, hey man, good to have you back."

Cas turned his head, gaze finding Dean's. "Dean."

He managed a small smile. "How you feeling?"

Cas glanced down at his supine body. "Heavy. Tired."

"Well, I bet being chained to Lucifer is no picnic," Dean replied.

Castiel's gaze roved around the room. "Where is Lucifer?"

"Gone. You're safe now." Dean reached out to squeeze Cas's forearm reassuringly.

Cas canted his head with his customary look of confusion, mussing his hair against the pillow. "Oh. When will he be back?"

Dean exchanged a guarded look with Sam. Something was off with Cas's tone. "He's not coming back," Dean said.

Cas stared at him for a long moment. "So…I'll just wait here, then."

Dean's grip instinctively tightened on Cas's arm. Cas was too calm, too nonchalant. "Wait for what?"

"The battle." Cas leaned his head back to gaze at the ceiling.

Dean's stomach was churning, and he now glanced at his brother in shared alarm. Something was definitely wrong here. Was this why Crowley couldn't get Cas to eject Lucifer before?

"Cas," Sam tried, "not that you shouldn't definitely take some time to recover, but Lucifer already tried to take out Amara and failed. She captured him. Don't you remember that?"

Cas blinked, meeting their gazes again, and his brow furrowed as though he didn't understand. "But the battle hasn't happened yet?" he checked.

"Uh, a showdown did happen," Dean said. "But neither of them killed each other."

Cas's expression smoothed. "Ah, okay." He fell silent again, a completely stoned glaze in his eyes.

"Cas." Dean gripped his lapels and gave him a light shake. "Snap out of it, man." Whatever 'it' was. Some kind of brainwashing done by Lucifer?

Cas frowned at him. "You seem upset."

Dean's heart was pounding wildly now with terror, and he had to resist the urge to shake the angel harder. "Cas, Lucifer's not possessing you anymore, you know that, right? You're back in the bunker with me and Sam. You're back home."

Cas studied him with a thoughtful gaze that almost rivaled the angel's usual intensity, but there was no click of understanding.

"Cas," Sam interjected. "This is real. I don't know what mind games Lucifer played with you, but this—" He took Cas's shoulder and squeezed. "Is real."

"Lucifer didn't play any games," Cas replied. "He left me alone." He started to sit up. "Maybe I should go wait for him in the kitchen."

Both brothers grabbed Cas's arms and tried to push him back down, which didn't take much. Despite Cas's unconcerned air, he was still weak, and seemed to be in some residual pain, as the angel finally winced from the movement.

"Cas," Dean choked. "Come on, you gotta snap out of this." He couldn't believe it. They'd gotten Cas back, but only part of him. Lucifer had left their friend in this mushy, lackadaisical state, and Dean didn't know how to bring him out of it.

"Please, Cas," he begged. "Come back. I need you here. Not out there fighting the Darkness, or waiting for Lucifer to wear you into the ring. I need you here, with us. Please."

Cas merely gazed at him, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Or maybe it was a reflection of Dean's own roiling emotions.

"Cas," Sam picked up, tone also desperate. "You tried, okay? Lucifer was our best shot, but he wasn't strong enough to take out Amara. That doesn't make your sacrifice meaningless. We'll try something else, together. The three of us. Don't give up."

Cas cocked his head again, but now there was a deep crease in his brow. "You're saying…" he said slowly, as though parsing it out. Something that appeared to take much more effort than it should have. "That I failed? And there's no way to stop the Darkness now?"

Dean shook his head. "No, Cas, you didn't fail. Lucifer did. And we're not beaten yet." He swallowed hard, not sure he truly believed that himself, but they had to keep trying. Keep on grinding, no matter what.

Cas's frown deepened, and Dean could see they were losing him to whatever clouded mental state Lucifer had subjected him to. Clasping the sides of Cas's head, Dean forced the angel to meet his gaze again.

"Cas, this isn't you. You don't sit things out, ever. Even when you were human, remember? You thought saying yes to Lucifer was the answer, and I get it, I do. But now we know he's not, so you don't need to wait around for him to come back!"

Cas's face pinched with a trace of anguish. "I…I think I'm tired, Dean."

Dean's throat constricted. "I know." He moved from the chair to the bed and pulled Cas up into an embrace, cupping the back of his head. "God, do I know. I'm not strong enough to resist Amara, and just the thought of trying is exhausting."

Dean tried to ignore the way a muscle in Sam's jaw ticked at the confession. But it wasn't like they didn't already know that.

Cas's voice came out muffled against his shoulder. "I'm not strong enough, either."

"That's okay," Dean let out in a shuddering breath. "I don't need you to be strong. I don't need you to 'be of service,' or be useful. I just need you here, safe. Like Sam. You're family, Cas, and I can't—I won't—not ever do everything I can to save you." He pulled back to look Cas in the eye. "Even if you don't want me to."

The blasé mien was gone from Cas's face, replaced with misery. "Dean…"

Dean hugged him again, squeezing his eyes shut to hold back the moisture gathering in them. Cas trembled, and Dean finally broke away in case he was causing his friend more pain. But then Sam, who was still sitting right beside them, reached over to pull Cas into his own hug. Dean watched Cas sag in Sam's arms, and hoped whatever brainwashing Lucifer had done was being dispelled for good. Even if it brought more hurt.

Sam pulled back and clasped the back of Cas's neck. "You back with us?"

Cas took in a shaky breath, and nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry, I don't know why I was…" he trailed off.

"It was Lucifer," Sam said in understanding. "His influence is strong, even long after he's not around anymore."

Cas's head dipped slowly in agreement, and he frowned as he took stock of his body, grimacing at each small movement. A shadow crossed his face. "Amara…she tortured us."

Dean's stomach clenched. He'd suspected as much. And was his lack of outrage because she'd been intentionally hurting Lucifer, and not Cas, or because Dean's judgement was horrendously clouded? Another thing he didn't expect an answer to.

"You'll heal, right?" he asked.

"Yes." Cas shifted, eliciting a wince. "I seem to be doing that a lot lately."

"Yeah, well, we've all taken some heavy hits recently," Dean said.

"I can bring a TV in here," Sam put in. "Hook up the Netflix."

"No," Cas said abruptly, eyes widening. "No, I…I just want to rest."

Sam frowned, but shrugged it off. "Sure." He stood up to leave. "Holler if you need anything."

Dean lingered, watching Cas's face carefully for any signs of a mental relapse. The angel seemed to have fully snapped out of it, though.

Cas slowly shifted his gaze to Dean's. "You…you came for me. I remember now, when Amara had Lucifer…"

"Yeah. I'll always come for you. I know I haven't done a great job in the past, but from here on out, I mean it. You pull the self-sacrificing play again, and I will be right behind you to haul your ass back. You understand?"

Cas glanced around the room, his room, and his eyes softened. "Yes."

Dean nodded. "Good." He rose to his feet. "I won't make you promise not to do something like that again, only because it's not something I can promise, myself. But I do want you to promise that no matter what we face in the future or what we have to do, you'll always hold onto the fact that I will try to save you. Please, Cas. I need you to know that, and I need you to want it."

Cas's throat bobbed. "Alright," he said, voice scratchy with emotion. "I…I can do that."

Dean clasped his shoulder and squeezed, and then made his way out so Cas could get some rest. He paused just outside the door to slump against the wall. They'd gotten Cas back, but Amara was in the wind, with their best shot at defeating her completely useless. And Dean didn't know if he'd come out the other side of this. Or if Cas or Sam would.

"On the off-chance You show up for once," he muttered under his breath. "Just keep them safe." Please.