AN: Hello friends! Thanks for your patience on this chapter. It took a lot of thought, time, editing, and careful consideration before it felt like it was right and ready to post. I would like to thank my followers, reviewers, and the lovely peddlergirl as always for being the best beta and friend I could ask for.

"Hey."

"How are they doing?"

"Y/N's still out cold. But knowing her, I bet it won't be long until she wakes up." Sam shook his head and looked back up at Cass. "Dean's uh… Still a little out of it. But better, I think. I mean, I think this whole thing—the blood cure and the…" Sam paused and absentmindedly rubbed at his jaw. "All of it—really wrecked him, you know?"

"Yeah."

"On the plus side, Dean's hungry again, so I'm just gonna go pick him up a big ol' bag of crap food and stuff it in his face myself before Y/N is awake again. Would you keep an eye on them?"

"Yeah. Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You realize—one problem is solved, but more than one remains. Dean is no longer a demon. That's true. But the mark of Cain—that, he still has, and sooner or later, that's going to be an issue. And Y/N—"

Sam held out a hand and cut Castiel off. He could only deal with so much at once. "You know what, Cass? I'm beat, man. One battle at a time, you know? So I'm just gonna go grab my brother some cholesterol and pick something up for Y/N. And then I'm gonna get drunk."

Dean was setting the picture frames back up in his room when there was a knock at the door. "Yeah."

Cass walked in and looked Dean over. "You look terrible."

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to lie every now and again." Dean knew he looked terrible. He felt worse.

"No, it wouldn't kill me. I just… you—"

"Forget it. Well, you, on the other hand… looking good. So… are you back?"

"At least temporarily. Yeah, it's a long story—Crowley, stolen grace. There's a female in a nearby motel. Another time."

"Well, thank you for, um… stepping in when you did. What does Sam say?"

"I'm sure Sam knows that whatever you said, or what you did, that wasn't really you. It certainly wasn't all you."

"I tried to kill him, Cass."

"Dean, you two have been through so much. Look, you're brothers. It'd take a lot more than trying to kill Sam with a hammer to make him want to walk away."

"You realize how screwed up our lives are that that even makes sense?" Dean ran a hand over his face. He sat on the bed and let out a breath. "And Y/N? Is she…?" Dean swallowed down a wave of nausea and shut his eyes as a few new flashes of what he did to you found their way in to his memory.

Castiel nodded. Watching over you was next on his list after checking in with Dean. "She's resting right now. Sam said that she would probably wake up soon. I was going to sit in her room until then. Would you like to join me?"

"No." Dean's response was instant.

Castiel turned is head to the side in puzzlement. It was unlike Dean to leave you alone while you were injured and he rarely denied your company. He was shocked Dean wasn't with you right now. "What? I don't understand…"

"I just… I don't think it's a good idea, Cass." Dean broke eye contact. He started staring at the bandages covering his bloody knuckles. "Actually… I was hoping for a favor."

"What is it, Dean?" Cass stepped forward and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"This… It's too much." Dean let out a heavy sigh. "Every time I close my eyes… I see the things I did to her. I remember what I did… what I was going to do." He looked up at Castiel. A single tear fell. "I can only imagine what it's been doing to her—what it's still going to do to her." Dean's voice trembled slightly. "Y/N shouldn't have to carry that burden. She doesn't talk about the past much, but whatever she can go back to has to be better than this. Anything else is better… I—I was wondering if you could use your mojo on her like you did for Lisa and Ben. Please, Cass. I'm begging you, man."

Dean's plea caught Castiel off guard. He stared at Dean in shock for a moment before answering. "No, Dean."

Dean opened his mouth to argue. Cass held up a hand, as he continued. "Even if I could alter her memories, I wouldn't do it." His mouth was set in a hard line.

"What do you mean?" Dean knew that you and Castiel were close. He never really understood why but he didn't question it either over the years.

"Even if I had enough grace, I made a promise. I swore long ago that I wouldn't go into her memories or read her mind uninvited. I will not break her trust or that promise, Dean. Not even for you." Your trust and friendship had to be earned. Cass knew what it was worth and wouldn't do anything to jeopardize it.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. He still wasn't willing to give up on the idea. "Then I'll find a way. Kevin's mom isn't the only one that can find a witch on craigslist. Y/N would be better off without this whole freaking mess." He pressed a hand to his temple.

"Dean... You don't understand…" He gave Dean a pained expression, caught between the knowledge of your past and the subtext he was managing to pick up from Dean.

He rose and his gaze shot back towards Castiel. "Tell me she wouldn't have a better life, Cass." Dean squinted at him slightly. "Unless there's something you know that I don't—"

Castiel let out a deep sigh and nodded. "There is." He cleared his throat and continued. "The night I returned from purgatory—the first time I met Y/N—I caught glimpses into her past."

Dean's eyes widened. This was news to him. All this time, Castiel knew your secrets and carried them. Secrets that Dean had to simply wait for or find out about. "You're telling me that all this time—"

"She made me swear never to tell you or Sam what I saw. Understand, Dean?" Castiel let out a deep breath. "You know how she is. Arguing with her would've been impossible and I have no doubt that she would've disappeared instead of killing me like she threatened. I could feel her intentions without reading her thoughts. Just… Trust me when I say that it wouldn't be better. You, Sam, and I are all she has."

Dean was silent for a moment. He rubbed a hand over his face as he cast a sideways glance at Castiel. "You shoulda told us, Cass."

"Dean, I—"

"I don't care, Cass!" Dean's eyes were full of pain. "I don't care what kind of threats or promises she made you. She's taken years to tell me probably less than half of what you know. The things she didn't tell me, I got to find out. You might have seen her past, but you haven't seen her pain. You haven't laid awake at night because you can only watch and you can never fix it!"

"I am aware of the nightmares, Dean. If I could take that pain away from her, I would have long ago. The same applies to you and Sam of course." Castiel gave Dean a mournful look and Dean knew he meant it.

Dean ran a hand through his hair and paced. "It's more than the nightmares, Cass. It's—" He paused briefly in a realization. Cass tilted his head to the side in puzzlement. "Wait… You don't know?"

"Know what, Dean? What's going on?" Deep concern marked his features as he sensed that there was something Dean wasn't telling him, a puzzle piece that you had kept secret.

Dean honestly considered telling Castiel everything for a moment. Then, your face flashed through his mind. It was an expression of betrayal—something that you hadn't really shown him until this summer. The freshest memory was only hours old. He let out a heavy sigh. "I can't do that to her right now. You can try asking her later, but I doubt she'll say a word. I've already betrayed too much of her trust. I—"

"I know, Dean. I hope she opens up to me—after she heals. I'm supposed to be watching over her until Sam gets back. You can stay here, but I hope you choose to join me." Castiel left Dean in silence and walked towards your room.

The room was dark and you were still unconscious. You managed to look mildly peaceful beneath the bruises and blood. Castiel found Dean's jacket draped over a chair. He rolled it up before gently tucking it under your head as a pillow. His own coat still covered you like a blanket and he adjusted it slightly. His eyes scanned your body and took in every cut and bruise that he couldn't heal right now until he couldn't take it anymore and glanced away. Sam made it sound like Dean wasn't out for long when they discussed it. He sped all the way to the bunker and still cursed himself for not pushing it and driving faster.

As he glanced to the floor next to him, he found books and stacks of paper he neglected earlier. The books appeared to be all about angel lore. Cass picked up a few pieces of paper and inspected them. They were covered with your writing, questions, and half-formed plans. It was very clear that you had been researching angel grace. It wasn't hard for him to figure out what you were planning and the work you'd already put into it. "Oh, Y/N…" His brow furrowed as he glanced back up at you.

While he was worried about how far you would go for him, a part of him was touched. You were the only one that cared about his dwindling grace other than Hannah and Crowley. Hannah's morals prevented her from doing anything outside of offering moral support and Crowley was very clear about Castiel simply having more value alive than dead to him. You were the only one that seemed to care down to your core. The last thing Cass wanted was to add to the burdens you carried already.

Judging by a few of the notes, you were clearly willing to hunt down and kill angels if that's what it took. Cass was glad that Crowley had beaten you to the punch on that. It meant he could be here to stop Dean and protect you. It was only a temporary solution and Castiel realized that he would have to talk with you later. He didn't want you killing angels and putting yourself in harm's way more than necessary.

The rise and fall of your chest and the soft sounds of your breathing helped Cass reassure himself that somehow, all of this was going to be alright. Usually the stillness of humans sleeping didn't bother him, but his guilt, protectiveness, and concern for you remained present. There was also the fact that you had managed to keep some secret buried deeply enough that he had never seen it. Judging by Dean's behavior, it was something painful beyond words.

Castiel continued to watch over you in silence until soft, slow footsteps could be heard in the hall and stopped at the doorway. "Hello, Dean." He didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Dean was the only one that would approach your room with reluctance.

There was a moment of silence and Cass wondered if he would come inside. "Maybe we should move her, ya know? So she doesn't have to see this—at least until I get it fixed." His voice was soft and lacked the confidence it usually held. Dean's eyes remained on the hallway walls that bore damage from his rampage until he stepped through the doorway.

Dean maneuvered it as closely to your bed as he could. Cass nodded in acknowledgement. "We can ask her when she wakes up."

Dean knew it would be bad. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he began to see how bad. He let out a heavy breath as he realized that Castiel's coat did a good job of doubling as a blanket and there would be more he wasn't seeing. A tear slid down one cheek. "I'm so sorry." His whisper was so silent Castiel couldn't make out what was said.

Your hair had managed to remain halfway in a hair tie still with the other half wild and loose. He had spent a few minutes looking at you and thinking. Dean ached to touch you more than anything and yet he felt guilty for the desire. He thought of over a dozen different ways just to feel your skin and every time his mind was immediately flooded with memories of him beating you.

Eventually, he settled on gently freeing the rest of your hair from the hair tie. Dean knew that if you were conscious, you wouldn't be able to stand it like that. He was focused on your breathing as he moved slowly, smoothing out your hair and brushing a few strands of it away from your face. "It's always been so soft." Dean paused, deep in thought. "Cafuné…" It was barely above a whisper. "I know enough Latin for an exorcism or a spell, but that word… It's the first word I memorized because it's beautiful." Dean spoke to Castiel but didn't remove his eyes from you.

"She whispered it to me once. We were on a hunt. It was a vengeful spirit. We thought it was tied to a jacket it had been buried in. Get the bones and the body in one shot, it was supposed to be easy. So Sammy and I dug up the body to salt and burn but Y/N had this hunch. Y/N thought it was connected to this wrecked motorcycle in the local junkyard." Dean let out a dry laugh. "Out of all people, I should've known she was right about the motorcycle. We finished up at the graveyard but when I tried to call and let her know it was taken care of, she didn't answer her phone. All three of us know hitting voicemail is the same as getting an S.O.S. I don't remember driving, I just remember getting there. Her car was parked outside of the gates. She'd managed to light up the motorcycle, but otherwise we just had flashlights. Other than her car out front, there was no sign of her. We called out and Cass, I swear, I was so scared that it had gotten her. Sammy got it together and started calling her phone again. I woulda' torn that place apart looking for her, the only reason we found her as quickly as we did was we heard her phone ringing."

He reached forward to place his hand on yours before withdrawing it quickly. Your wrists were red from the cuffs digging into them and from what he could see, your arms and hands were covered in bruises and a few cuts from defending yourself. Dean inhaled suddenly as he caught a flash of himself on top of you, about to land another blow. Some memories returned instantly, others were slower and hit like a freight train.

Castiel noticed the change in his posture and breathing. He tilted his head sideways in concern. "Dean, are you alright?"

He shakily exhaled before replying. "Yeah. Yeah, Cass. I'm fine. Just… remembering."

"You can touch her, Dean. She won't break." Castiel approached his friend and tried to be reassuring.

For the first time Dean turned his head to face Cass. His red rimmed eyes were filled with self-loathing and sadness. "Yeah except I'm the one that nearly broke her! I love her more—" Dean realized he was beginning to raise his voice and started again. "I love her. It's all still coming back… But I'm pretty sure I wasn't going to kill her in the end. I was going to keep her alive to torture… for fun."

The angel sighed. He was surrounded by pain and unable to fix any of it. "That wasn't you, Dean… I know it, Sam knows it, and I'm sure Y/N knows it. Dean, you—the real you—would die for any of us. You already have—more than once."

Looked down for a moment, silent. "Then answer a question for me, Cass. You've lived a long time. Was it easier for you to die or to live with every mistake and failure?"

It was a hard question that he was unsure how to respond. "I don't have all of the answers, Dean. But trust me when I say hold her hand."

Dean's eyes shifted back to you, filled with fear. He didn't trust himself or find himself worthy enough. Despite this, a deep urge to touch you, hold you, to do anything that would make this whole goddamn nightmare stop kept flooding his brain and pulled on every instinct to stay away he had. Every time his world was in flames, you were the flood that stopped it from consuming him. This time, it wasn't just his world. He realized that you loved him enough to stay and burn with him if everything else failed. Dean owed you this and so much more no matter how he felt. His touch on your skin was gentle and light.

Castiel allowed Dean to simply sit with you before prompting Dean into telling the rest of the story. "You were searching for her in the junkyard. Sam started calling her cellphone. What happened next?"

He took a moment and looked lost before he remembered what he had been telling Cass. "The bastard put up a fight and in the end threw her on top of a stack of four of five junked cars. When I first saw her… There aren't words, Cass. She was unconscious and all I could see was her blood." Dean scrubbed a hand over his face before continuing. Castiel offered him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

"All I could think about was getting to her. Sam was yelling something—telling me to be careful or slow down so I didn't tip the cars but nothing could've stopped me. I carried her to the impala and told Sam to drive her car and meet us back at the motel. She didn't wake up on the way or when I brought her inside. I'd gotten her pretty cleaned up and realized most of the blood was from a head wound and a few cuts by the time Sam got back. Don't get me wrong Cass, Y/N got pretty beat up but she didn't look like she was auditioning to be in Carrie anymore."

"I think I remember seeing her after that." Castiel's voice was low as he tried to recall which time Dean was talking about. The Winchesters did a good job of keeping you out of the line of fire, but you were still… you.

"She probably would've been fine in the motel room resting for a few days, but seeing her like that scared me. Sam packed while I patched her up. When we finished, I tossed him the keys. He didn't ask questions or argue about it, Sam knew I just needed to get her home. I slid in the back with, Y/N, her head rested on my lap. She was really out of it when she started to come to, I don't think she even remembers any of it. Once Y/N woke up, there was only one thing she said to me. She reached up and stroked my hair before running her hand down my cheek. She said 'Cafuné' and smiled at me. Even then, she smiled. Meanwhile, I was worried that there was something more to the case or that she was trying to tell me that there was something else wrong with her. I nearly lost my mind when she didn't answer me and passed out again. I asked Sam if he knew what it meant. He didn't know and started driving faster than he already was. I grabbed my phone and I think I misspelled it a few times until I finally found something that made sense." Dean rested his head in his hands, suddenly overcome with grief. "It's a word for running your fingers through your lover's hair." His voice broke slightly.

"That doesn't surprise me." Castiel glanced at you with fondness. A look of sadness crossed his features when he glanced at your notes and research in the corner again. The angel had no doubt that you would do anything to save a loved one at whatever cost. He imagined you looking up at a worried Dean in the backseat, your only thought being to comfort him and tell him you loved him despite nearly being the next victim on a hunt.

"I called Charlie when we got back to the bunker and asked her to pick up Y/N's car. You should've seen it when Y/N woke up though. She told me what happened—or at least what she could remember of it—and I gave her the short version of us finding her. She was happy and quiet for a little bit before asking what happened to her car." Dean let out a small chuckle. "You know she loves that car, Cass. I'd seen her angry and we'd argued but this was on another level when she heard me say we had to leave her car behind. It was like I was looking at a vengeful spirit for a minute until I told her that Sam and Charlie were bringing it back."

His chuckle faded and an oppressive silence filled the bunker. Dean continued to watch over you. His eyes seemed to find something new every time he looked over your body. Cuts and bruises were only the beginning of the evidence pointing to the hell that he'd put you through. As Dean noted the obvious, he also noticed things like the bags under your eyes and the weight you'd lost—not that you had any to lose in the first place.

Castiel could feel the guilt radiating off of Dean. It consumed Dean's features and filled the silent atmosphere of the bunker. Cass sat there, both worried for you and Dean at the same time. He found himself at a loss for anything to say that could potentially calm Dean down or ease his troubles. The minutes seemed to drag on longer than they had in thousands of years. The silence, guilt, worry, and sadness that filled the room became more than what Cass could bare and moved him to speak in an attempt to shift the atmosphere.

The angel caught Dean's gaze for a moment before he spoke. "Dean, Y/N, she's strong—you both are. Both of you should be able to heal. Heaven and hell are reasonably back in order. It's quiet out there. Take—"

Dean cut Castiel off with a cutting gaze. "Stop. I don't care. I don't care about heaven, hell, or whatever else is out there. You can stuff the whole "time heals all wounds" crap right now Cass because it doesn't and I don't want to hear it."

This time, the silence didn't last. Your soft voice cut through the air like lightning and startled both Dean and Cass.

Darkness and nothingness. It consumed everything—thought, pain, time, desire—and there was peace in its wake. The silence faded as the sound of deep voices murmuring indistinctly grew louder. Awareness began as a small spark in the darkness and ignited your consciousness.

Voices. Who? You narrowed your focus on the sound instead of the conversation. Small realizations fell in to place. Cass. Cass is here. You felt relieved, but struggled to remember why. What happened? Bits and pieces returned to you with no particular order to them. It hurt to think. But then again, you were realizing that everything hurt. Hunting? No, not hunting. The bunker. Sam was patching me up and talking. We were talking about Dean… DEAN! A sudden urgency overwhelmed you. Sam said that they would attempt to finish the cure. But if they failed…

You felt a hand on yours as you reached out past the pain to begin taking control of your limbs. It wasn't smooth like Castiel's. You felt callouses and a familiar roughness lightly rubbing your skin. The urgency you felt was replaced with calmness. Dean. He was here, he was alive, and nothing else mattered. You clawed your way towards the sound of Cass's voice and you heard Dean interrupt him.

You could make out what he was saying now and although he spoke softly, there was no mistaking the anger and frustration in his voice. Stop it. No more.

"Dean…" Your voice was raspy and you had more to say but one word was hard enough to manage before a coughing fit tore at your throat.

"Y/N?" You could hear the concern in Dean's voice and the fear underneath. "Can you hear me?"

Before you could answer, his weight on the bed shifted and pain lit up your brain like a Christmas tree. Something between a groan and 'fuck' left your mouth. There wasn't an inch on your body that didn't feel some sort of ache or stabbing pain on one level or another.

"Shit. Shit… Sorry." Dean apologized and you simply squeezed his hand in response until you could focus past the pain once more. "I know, I know it hurts. Cass, where's the first aid kit?"

You could hear the angel moving on the other side of your room. "Over here." There was a rattling sound. "Sam gave her these earlier."

"Y/N, can you open your eyes?"

It was a standard request, he was going to ask sooner or later and you knew from experience that it was almost always painful and difficult at first. But you would open the gates of hell for him if it would just ease his fear and worry a little bit.

A twinge of fear and anxiety began to pull at you and you realized that you were afraid of what you might see. Surely Castiel and Sam had cured Dean. There'd be no other way they would allow him out of the dungeon—let alone in your room.

The room was dimly lit but your head was already pounding and the small amount of light was like gasoline on a fire. You couldn't help but squint them shut again quickly. The next try wasn't as bad. Castiel was at the foot of your bed holding a pill bottle. Dean sat on the right side of the bed next to you. His face was a calm cool mask but he did seem to brighten up slightly when you made eye contact. You knew better though. Too much had happened for things to be this easy and as you looked deeper into Dean's eyes, you knew you were right. You couldn't find any trace of the demon, this was definitely Dean, but it was like he was barely holding back a massive storm inside.

"How long ago did she take that?" Dean's voice was still laced with worry and his eyes never left yours. He was trying to hide it, but you'd learned to pick up his subtleties long ago.

"I'm sure it's worn off. Sam also gave her something to help her sleep as well…" Castiel hesitated as he spoke.

"Right…" Dean sounded as if he had a quiet realization. "Hand me the bottle."

That's when it hit you as well. Sam would've put you to sleep while they were finishing the ritual to spare you from more of Dean's outbursts and seeing him in pain. He knew that they might have to kill Dean, but he couldn't face that reality without Cass. But it wasn't that simple. Cass's reasons for knocking you out ran deeper. He didn't want you awake if the ritual didn't work and you weren't sure how you felt about that.

"Here, take these. They won't—" Dean cast his eyes down as his voice caught in his throat before looking at you again. "You'll be hurting for a while, but they'll take the edge off." There was a roughness to his voice as he fought to hold on to his cool exterior.

You grit your teeth together as Dean helped you sit up enough to take the pills he offered you. Despite their deceptively small size and coating, it felt like you were swallowing gravel. "Thanks." Until they kicked in, talking and moving a lot were going to be a struggle.

Dean seemed to read your mind in this. "Give it a few minutes before you try anything, alright?" His eyes were full of sympathy as he lowered you back down.

Silence filled the room. Whatever Dean and Cass were arguing about, they didn't want you to hear it. Silence wasn't the same as peace. You could tell that both of them wanted to talk to you but neither one wanted an audience. It was Dean that finally looked at Castiel and asked him for privacy.

Cass's eyes shifted from Dean's to yours. "Sam asked me to watch over both of you."

"It's ok." You nodded at Castiel, knowing he wouldn't be far away in case… Your mind drifted back to when Dean's eyes were black and filled with anger involuntarily.

"Hey, you with us?" Dean gently stroked your cheek, startling you.

"M'fine." You realized that you must've spaced out for a moment.

Dean shifted in his seat and let out a sharp sigh. "Maybe this isn't—"

"No." You spoke louder than you meant to and winced. "Please." The thought of him leaving now tore at your heart. Dean was finally back, the real Dean that you loved more than anything. After the summer from hell and the pain of bringing him back, these few moments couldn't be all there was to your reunion.

The heart break you felt must've been as plain as day on your face. Dean studied you for a moment before changing his mind. "Alright. I'll stay."

"I'll, uh, just wait in the library." Castiel gave you one last look before leaving your room.

Dean remained silent for a moment, seemingly deciding what to say.

Whatever Dean needed to say, there was something he needed to hear even more. "S'okay. I forgive you." The painkillers were kicking in but your voice still betrayed the damage to your throat.

The mask shattered and Dean looked like you'd hit him. "Y/N… the things I did to—"

"Not you… was the mark." Your eyes slid to his arm. A flannel shirt covered the mark but you realized it was still there. The ritual would only bring Dean back from being a demon.

"I wish that was true." Dean released your hand, clasping both of his together. "At the end… I can blame that on the mark. But what about this summer? Demons don't have nightmares. Demons don't kill other demons for a human without ulterior motives. But demons sure as hell don't have a problem with killing innocents or—" Dean cut himself off. His eyes squeezed shut as if he were in pain and trying to shut it out.

"Dean?" You forced your hand to reach towards him. Your limbs ached in protest.

"I'm fine." His eyes opened and he gently took your hand back in his. "Just some leftover side effects from the ritual I guess." He smiled at you, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I mean, I've had some mean hangovers but this is something else."

You didn't expect talking about everything to be easy, but you could sense Dean closing himself off. "Glad it worked." You returned his smile. "Was scared I ruined it."

"What?" Dean gave you a bewildered look.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Heard Sam talking to Cass and I panicked. Didn't know what I would do if…" You trailed off, reaching for the water on the nightstand so you wouldn't have to finish that statement.

"Here." Dean grabbed the glass and brought it to your lips.

Once you were finished, you spoke more carefully. "I got emotional. If I'd kept my cool, none of this would've happened. Was scared that you wouldn't get dosed in time. Sorry"

Dean looked away, clearly feeling uneasy. The sound of the bunker door opening drew Dean's attention away from you momentarily. "I guess Sammy's back." He stood, facing the door. Sure enough, you could hear Sam speaking with Castiel in the hallway. No doubt Sam was worried and giving Cass grief for leaving you and Dean alone.

You managed to sit up and lean against the headboard. Dean didn't want to talk about this, but you couldn't see any other way to move forward. Stubborn Winchester. "Don't do this, Dean."

Dean turned his head towards you briefly and you thought he would sit back down for a moment. Instead, Sam walked through the doorway with Castiel behind him. The concern on Sam's face faded when he saw that you were awake and that Dean was 'fine.' He was holding two greasy brown bags and you hoped he'd been gentle in his selections.

Sam flashed you a smile of relief. "Y/N! Good to see you're with us in the land of the living."

You could see Dean's shoulders stiffen briefly, but he didn't turn around. No one else seemed to notice how the comment affected him. "Yeah, uh… Thanks Sam."

"Oh hey, Dean!" Sam seemed as happy as he'd been recently—which wasn't saying much but it was still better than seeing him anxiously tracking Dean or running for his life.

"What's up?"

"Here." Sam tossed one of the brown bags to Dean. "I got your favorite. There's pie and beer in the fridge."

"That's my cue." He started to leave.

"Dean, wait!" You called after him, giving up hiding any of the desperation in your voice. Dean simply walked out as if he hadn't heard you. Cass and Sam gave you puzzled looks. Dean would never just leave you like that and it was a dead giveaway that something more was wrong, that your reunion hadn't gone as should've.

Sam had the sense to realize Dean shouldn't be alone. "Cass, why don't you go make sure Dean finds the pie I left for him?"

"You clearly told Dean it was in the fridge. I doubt—"

"Cass. Go be with Dean." Sam shot the angel a look that clearly said that this wasn't simply a request to help Dean with food.

"Right. I think I understand." Before Castiel left, he turned in the doorframe to address you. "I'll be returning to speak with you later, Y/N. I'm glad you're healing."

After Cass was out of earshot, you turned to Sam. "He still really needs to work on his social skills."

"Right?" Sam grinned. "How are you feeling?"

"Dean gave me some painkillers. Must've been the good stuff because I can move without feeling like I've been hit by a bus. My throat doesn't feel like broken glass." You gave Sam a reassuring grin.

"Good, that's good. Anyway, I got you some food—if you're up for it." Sam placed the other bag on the bed. "Go ahead and take a look. I'll eat whatever you don't want or can't finish."

It was a really sweet and touching gesture, something you imagined you and Andy would do for each other in a happier world. "Thanks, Sam. That's really thoughtful of you."

"No problem, Y/N. It's been a rough… you know." Sam let out a dry chuckle. "So look, I know you and Dean don't need babysitters—"

"Dean needs a babysitter and I don't mind the company right now." It was true and you knew arguing with Sam would be pointless tonight.

"Wow, that was… easier than I was expecting."

You merely shrugged at Sam in response as you began rummaging through the food.

"Pick out something on Netflix to binge watch tonight. I need something to drink after everything so I'll be right back. Do you need anything?"

"Water and I think there's half a pint of ice cream in the freezer. My throat still hurts enough I could use something cold with all this." You gestured to the brown bag.

"Makes sense." Sam nodded at you before leaving.

There was a good variety in the bag to choose from. A burger, fries, a chicken salad sandwich, mystery soup, and something that passed for a salad at this particular drive through. The burger was an automatic no with the greasy flavors and textures. The fries didn't look bad, but the extreme saltiness would only irritate your raw throat more. The chicken sandwich didn't look too bad and you knew Sam would want the salad. Hopefully the soup would be alright too.

Sam returned quickly, as promised with ice cream, water, and a bottle liquor. It was the old stuff that the men of letters kept before the Winchesters rediscovered this place. You raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"What are we watching tonight?" Sam settled into the chair next to your bed.

"I haven't chosen yet." You handed the bag of food to Sam. "The rest is yours." Sam picked out the salad as you expected. "If you're going to drink, we might as well watch It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia."

"Sure." Sam kicked his shoes off and took a swig directly from the bottle. You noted that while he removed the salad from the bag, it remained untouched on the nightstand.

"Thundergun Express?"

"How about The Nightman Cometh?" Sam clearly wanted to dive right in to the greatest hits.

Sunny was something everyone could agree on and as a result, you and the Winchesters had already seen every episode. Cass sat in on a few but he didn't get it. "You got it." You pressed play and watched Charlie announce he'd written a musical to the gang.

You spent the next half hour or so in silence with Sam. Both of you were only half way paying attention to the show, occasionally chuckling when a favorite joke showed up but not much more. After Sam finished his food, he hit the liquor pretty hard and it was beginning to show. He was slouching and the exhaustion he'd been hiding was as plain as day now.

There was a pang of sadness in your gut as you realized that he purposefully stayed with you instead of Castiel or Dean. Cass wouldn't be able to fully understand what Sam was feeling right now. And Dean… If you were honest, you didn't blame Sam for not feeling like it was safe to get drunk around his brother right now. You knew Dean was human and you could easily remember him being there when you woke up. But when your mind drifted, memories of blood, beatings, and the feeling of choking to death resurfaced and threatened to envelope you. That's why Sam chose to be with you instead. We are all so fucked.

You let out a deep sigh and considered everything you'd been through. Fuck it. "Hey Sammy, pass that over here."

Sam squinted. He had no idea what you were talking about. "Pass what?"

You nodded at the bottle of liquor. "The bottle. I think I'll have what you're having."

His eyes widened and he regained some clarity. "Y/N… Are you sure? I mean, you never—"

"I'm sure, Sammy." You extended your arm and your tone left no room for argument. "We both need to be comfortably numb." His eyes met yours and you gave him a knowing look. Sam looked away when he realized that he'd completely let his façade slip and you'd seen his pain.

"You're not wrong." He handed the bottle to you. The amber liquid sloshed around and while you were ready to let go, you were glad that Sam didn't grab the bottle of absinthe that lurked in the liquor cabinet that the men of letters kept.

"To oblivion then." You held the bottle up to Sam before taking a healthy swig. Fire burned and tore at your throat, but you welcomed it knowing the escape it would bring you tonight. Together, you and Sam burned through a few more episodes with mostly silence and the bottle passing between you. Sam at some point let you start resting your head on his shoulder.

The 'are you still watching' message popped up prompting you to select yes, no, or to choose another show. "Damn judgmental streaming… why don' you lemme binge in peace?" Muttering to yourself, you fumbled with the remote until you heard Sam let out a chuckle. You sat up to talk to him. "What? My binging is my business. I don't pay Netflix for its opinion."

"Nothing. Just funny the way you said it." Sam grinned at you, both of you were pretty drunk now. "Also, Charlie hacked it s' we don't pay it and if we did, you like the recommendations."

"Yeah, well… it's stupid. Stupid and rude. Watcha wanna watch? More Sunny or somethin' else?" The remote twirled in your hand for a moment until your fingers slipped and you dropped it.

"Doesn' matter. Don't care." Sam slouched back even further and ran a hand down his face. You could feel his mood shift. Apparently he still couldn't escape his troubles.

"Sammy?" You leaned in, concerned.

"Nothin' I do matters, Y/N. Couldn't find you, couldn't keep you safe from Dean, couldn't do anything without you and Cass…" He gave you a tortured look that exposed everything Sam had been concealing. "N' Crowley taunting me."

"But Sam… Dean didn' want us found 'nd you saved me from Dean in the hall, patched me up… y'guys both cured 'im." Vaguely you realized you were slurring your words and joining Sam in his melodramatic turns.

"Had t' get D'n offa you… Woulda' killed you." Sam's eyes were watering up at the memories, but you knew he wasn't going to cry. "Glad Cass pulled you outta there. Got the cuffs off." It was obvious he was replaying the events in his mind. His face suddenly screwed up in a look of confusion and concentration.

"Wha' is it?" You took another drink from the nearly empty bottle.

"Y/N… Who's Andy?" He squinted at you like he was trying to decipher the grimoire all over again.

Your brain was in a fog and you couldn't connect the dots. "Whaddya mean?"

"Was looking for you. Heard a fight n' I hoped I wasn't too late… Everything went quiet 'n I had to choose a direction. I heard you call out and you said 'Andy'."

"Oh." You realized he must not have seen your brother. He disappeared right before Sam arrived. "Andy was m' little brother." All of your filters were gone and you spoke very matter of factly as you leaned against the headboard.

Sam's interest piqued. Questions began spilling out of him. "You never mentioned a brother, Y/N. He a hunter too? Where's he now? Why didn't you tell us?"

"Not a hunter. He died. Pretty much gave my life to keep 'im safe and he still died." Once you began talking, you couldn't stop and you didn't care. "Cass read m' mind, so he knows it all." You gestured to the side of your head lazily. "Told Dean a while ago. Didn't say Andy was dead cause it would make Dean feel bad." You picked at the blanket, thinking of the night Dean pulled you from your aunt's house.

"Why would Dean feel bad? 'S sad but Dean would be ok."

"Cause Andy died the night I became a hunter." You explained what was obvious to you as if it should be clear to Sam.

"I still don't understand, Y/N." He patiently prompted you to continue. "Need t' gimme more. When'd you start hunting?"

You let out a deep sigh. "Didn' know they were Gods… Was tryin' to save Andy. They just kept choking him n' drowning him… Finally got a shot in n' was gonna save 'im then that bitch started attacking. Dean shot her and made me leave Andy in the house. Told you to throw me in the car and then he blew it all up."

A look of horror crossed Sam's face. "The night we picked you up, the sea god case?"

"Yup. Night I met you guysss." You tried to hand the bottle to Sam but he ignored it.

"D'n said the entire family was dead 'nside… You lost your whole family?" Disbelief and shock were fighting for dominance in Sam's features.

"My aunt, uncle, cousins, and Andy. Ev'rybody that mattered then." You rolled on your side, facing Sam.

"You weren't a hunter b'fore, you were just—just a regular person?" He just kept staring at you. Your life before the Winchesters was taboo and now he knew why.

You shrugged. "You n' Dean didn't think so. Y'guys thought I was a hunter. Jusss lost everything so when ya asked me if I wanted t' join you, I figured why not? Got nothin' left to lose." It wasn't supposed to be like this. Between you and Andy, only one of you could have a life and you gladly gave yours up for him. He was going to have a career and a family—until you botched the job, until he died on your watch. "Tried to distract the bastard." You threw a pillow across the room in frustration and anger with yourself. "It was supp'sed to be me, always supposed to be me. Andy was gonna have a life. Fuckin' dickwad decided he wanted me as a 'pet' insteada killin' me, so he attacked Andy. I tried, Sammy. I begged n' fought until sonuvabitch made it a game. Said he'd let us go if I brought 'im down b'fore he could kill Andy. He was almos' dead, then I found m' taser n' fried his ass. Coulda saved him, but Galene started throwin' punches, that bitch. Dean showed up outta nowhere and shot her, dragged me outta the house, n' threw me at you."

"Oh God…" Sam ran a hand over his face as he thought through everything you'd just told him. He was clearly at a loss for words.

"Anyways, don't worry, S'mmy. Everything worked out fine. Jus don't tell Dean. I don't want him to be sad." You rested your head on Sam's good arm. "He has alotta feelings right now. Don't let 'im tell you he's fine."

Sam pulled you closer and you weren't sure if it was for your benefit or his. "Y/N… N'body's fine right now." Aside from a deep sigh, he went quiet for a while.

You weren't sure how many minutes passed, but you were content to sit in peace with him. Sam was a rescuer at first, a comrade, your best friend, and somewhere along the way he became your brother. There wasn't a clear moment defining the shift in your relationship and it wasn't like things were with Andy. Sam made you feel… like you would do anything to protect him, but you were ok when you needed him to protect you. You never wanted Andy to see you weak or to be your protector. On the rare occasion it happened, you always felt like you'd failed him.

"What're you thinkin' about?" The deep rumble in his chest had a soothing quality to it.

"Mmm… Hard t' explain." Instantly, you knew Sam would ask you to try.

Sam playfully messed up your hair. "Ya know, you can tell me anything."

"I guess… you're my brother now." Subconsciously, you bit your bottom lip. Sam went still beneath you and his silence gave a megaphone to the anxiety that lurked behind your admission. "I-I mean, you're not Andy and it's not—"

A large arm suddenly wrapped around you. Even one handed, he could pull you into a bone crushing hug. You never denied Sam a hug, but he was too drunk to realize how tightly he was holding you. The pain meds and alcohol didn't do enough to dull the physical pain and you found yourself tapping out. He apologized and took care to hold you gently.

"I've lost Dean so many times. Evr'y time I died inside too. Only way that pain dies is if they come back… I'll never be Andy—but if I get to pick a sister, I pick you."

You were in awe of Sam's words. Honestly, you were expecting him to tell you how flattered he was followed by all the reasons he couldn't be a brother to you. "Sammy, I don't want you to be Andy. I want you to be you." You grimaced as you moved away from him. It was important for him to see your face. "Always took care of Andy. Woulda' died before asking him for help. Thanks for showin' me what having a sibling's really like. Well, except for the demons n' stuff. M' pretty sure that's not normal."

Sam chuckled at your last statement. "No. No, you're right, it's not normal." His face was suddenly grew serious again as he formed a thought. "So… you lost everyone t' a sea god and started hunting… still not the weirdest thing I've heard of, but there's other stuff." His face was screwed up in concentration. You could tell he was thinking hard about something.

"Other stuff?"

"Yeah…" Sam's eyes focused on yours. "Like, we thought you were a hunter 'cause there was no record of you in the family for the case—"

"Andy lived with my aunt and cousins." Adrenaline suddenly spiked through the pleasant haze of alcohol and burned up the edges of your buzz. You could see Sam wasn't done.

"I remember. But I was sayin', you also took down a god by yourself. How did you know what to do? You know so much lore. And then I remember patching you up with Dean. You had some rough scars we thought were from hunting… Those weren't from hunting. What happen'd to you?"

"Sammy…" Your voice held a warning tone as anxiety pushed down the remainder of your numbness. He was going too far, asking too many questions that were off limits. Admitting to liking lore and occult books as a kid might not be so bad if you didn't say why they appealed to you. But talking about the scars… No.

He either didn't hear your warning or ignored it. "The way you shoot a gun and handle knives… How'd you learn?" Words were spilling out of his mouth now that Sam's filter was gone, he was going to say whatever he was thinking.

"Stop, Sam." You narrowed your eyes and lowered your voice. There was no way you were going to talk about your dad and you were taking the truth of his death with you to the grave.

"But Y/N, it jus' doesn' make sense. I mean—"

"Please just stop!" You didn't mean to shout at Sam, it just sort of came out. He looked stunned, as if you had just slapped him. "Sam, I-I'm s'rry. I just… I can't…"

He held up a hand and sighed. "I know… And I know better than to ask. I just—I got carried away and I'm not thinking straight." He tried to smile but it fell flat. "It's like I think I know you and then this…"

Sam's comment hurt. You just told him something you'd never told anyone. "I'm still me, Sam." You nervously twisted the blankets in your fingers.

"Yeah, but I mean, who's that? Who were you? Dean and I, we let you in and made assumptions. But we let you in. You know everything there's t' know about us." Sam spoke softly, but when you looked into his eyes he was practically screaming. Neither of you liked double standards. "When are you gonna let us in?"

"This is part of why I never told you and Dean about that night." You shook your head to hide tears that threatened to fall. "I don't want who I was to matter. That girl, she died in the fire." Maybe even before that. "You would've never asked her to join you like you asked me."

"You act like that girl is dead, but she's not."

Not wanting to see Sam's reaction, you kept your eyes forward as you spoke. "What if I never tell you guys? I thought the only thing that mattered to you was who I am now."

Sam was taken aback. He and Dean had both said that when they realized how much the discussion of your past hurt you. "It is the only thing that matters. I just—" His face screwed up in frustration when you glanced his way. "I jus' wanna to know you—all of you, not jus' the-the hunter version of you."

"No, Sam." He was drunk and he was pushing way harder than he normally would. The booze wasn't helping you either. It loosened your lips and put you on this emotional rollercoaster. Right now anger, frustration, and sadness rose up and fought for control. "We jus got Dean back n' you wanna open veins?" Fuck. You felt a hot tear roll down your cheek. "You saw wha' he was like… I just spent all summer with 'im n' fuckin' Crowley b'fore he finally left me jus' like he left you. We get 'im back and-and—" Your breathing started coming in quick and shallow breaths.

"Hey…" Sam wrapped his arm around you in an effort to calm you. "It's ok, Y/N."

"But it's not!" You were on the verge of hyperventilating and barely holding back a flood of tears. A part of your brain was telling you to stop talking but calm logic wasn't in control. "I heard you talkin' t' Cass. You were gonna kill Dean and I panicked. Couldn' let you do it, even texted Crowley for help—"

"What?!" Sam stiffened in shock before holding you tighter.

"Bastard said no. N' Dean… was in so much pain. Before he… got loose… you didn' see 'im. He was talking t' me. Was almos' like he was back." You swallowed a lump in your throat. You'd broken the first rule of hunting and let your guard down. "This whole thing's my fault… nearly cost us Dean. We could've all died."

"Wha'ever happen'd in the dungeon wasn't your fault." Sam sounded a little bit more sober now.

"I let m'self think he was back, Sammy. Houdini doesn't have shit on Dean when it comes to locks. Got too close, if I'd stayed back, he wouldn't've gotten my bobby pin and he wouldn't've been able t' knock me out." You looked down at some of your bruises in the dim light. "He beat me, Sam. Dean cuffed me before beating and choking me. And the things he said, he'd never need to use a knife on me… He can barely look at me or touch me now. It wasn' rlly him, but I can't unsee it either."

One look at Sam told you he was going to shove down his pain and try reassuring you. "Y/N—"

"Can you unsee the hammer?"

Sam paused, his mouth remained open at the thought.

"Don' tell me you're ok 'cause that's bullshit. Nobody's ok." Vaguely, you were aware that you were shaking.

He closed his mouth and remained silent for a moment. "We don' have to talk about that yet." Sam decided to pick up the bottle for another drink. "I still wanna know more 'bout from before." He passed the bottle to you.

You let out an exasperated sigh after taking a large swig to calm your nerves. "No." Sam didn't get it.

Sam leaned back and took another sip. He was trying to think of the magic words that would make you give him more information. Obviously coming up with nothing, he let out a breath and dropped the topic. "You tired?"

"A little." You weren't about to pass out, but you could do with some peace. Despite Sam letting up, there was some tension in the room.

"Me too." Sam stood up, wavering slightly. He was definitely drunk, but not exhausted. "I should go t' bed. Want me to grab Cass?" More than likely, Sam was going to go off and drink more by himself before passing out tonight. You couldn't blame him and you weren't going to stop him.

As for Cass… You thought about whether you wanted to be alone or not right now. With everything that happened, there was no telling what your subconscious had in store for you. Normally, you'd ask for Dean but something stopped you. "Yeah. Get Cass."

"Right." Sam stumbled out of your room, turning the light off on his way out.

You wrapped Castiel's trench coat around yourself. Dean's jacket still covered your pillow. You laid down on your side and inhaled the smell of Dean's soap and the lingering smell of smoke that never left his clothes.

You could tell the moment Cass entered the room. He wasn't trying to sneak in but it was more about his presence. Angels' true forms were larger than their vessels and sometimes it felt like you could feel him taking up the whole room. He stood in silence, watching you for a few minutes. Castiel could tell if you were sleeping or not when he was powered up. You started to wonder if he was reading your mind when he finally walked towards you. You'd had conversations about how if he continued to sneak up on hunters, he'd get shot or stabbed. The last one was after you'd accidentally stabbed him during a shifter hunt with a silver blade. He was still powered up and able to heal himself, but you felt terrible about it. After that, he seemed to get the message.

The bed dipped behind you as he sat down. He only acted this obvious when he was really trying hard not to startle you. "Sam sent me. He appeared to be quite…"

"Drunk? Yeah, me too." You rolled on to your back so you could see the angel.

Light from the hallway illuminated his face enough that you could see his slight frown. "I thought as much." Cass sighed. "Unfortunately, I cannot heal you."

You shrugged your shoulders as much as you could. "Meh, kinda figured." He would've healed you in the hallway when he first saw you if he could've. "But you're all… glowy again so s'methin's up."

"You drank too much." There was a slight tone of disapproval in his voice. "You'll regret this in the morning."

"Pssh… you tol' me you drank a whole liquor store once." You hoped he was powered up enough to see you roll your eyes at him in the dark.

"Yes, and that was a mistake." He reached for something near the bed and inched closer to you. "Here, drink this." Cass sighed and held what looked like a plastic bottle.

"What is it?"

"Mostly water but the label claims it contains electrolytes. Sam bought you food, did you eat it?"

"Yeah." You sat up, took the cold bottle from Cass, and began to sip it.

"Good. I remember hangovers as not being pleasant." He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, worry still laced his voice.

"I'll be fine." You waved off his concern. "But you, you still owe me an explanation, Cass."

His head tilted and you could nearly make out his puzzled look. "Explanation?"

"Cass, you were dying." The thought saddened you. "Like really, f'rever dead, dying."

The angel sat up straighter. "Oh. That."

"Yeah, that. I was researchin', but I didn't do anything. Things got too messy too fast on my end."

Cass clasped his hands together and leaned forward. "I was going to talk to you about that. I saw some of your… notes." He paused for a moment and you waited for him to continue. "At the moment, I'm living on stolen grace."

"You killed an angel?" You looked up at him wide eyed. Castiel was in bad shape before. Killing another angel would've been nearly impossible.

Cass held up a hand. "We'll get to that. First, I have to tell you something." He let out a deep sigh. "I don't want you killing angels to steal grace for me."

"But Cass—"

His voice was firm as he continued. "No, Y/N. It's too dangerous and it'll put you on heaven's radar." You could practically feel his blue eyes staring you down before he spoke again. This time, he sounded a little sad. "In fact, I've decided that my grace is my problem. I don't want you or Sam and Dean involved."

This wasn't a debate. He wasn't going to hear anything you had to say even if you could successfully debate with him. "Cass…" Your voice broke on his name.

His hand returned to your shoulder and he gave a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not giving up, I'll find a solution."

You hesitantly agreed.

"Now, as for how I'm alive. I've been traveling with a fellow angel, Hannah. Our mission was to convince angels remaining on earth to return to heaven. It proved… more complicated than it sounds."

After the fall, all the angels should've been ecstatic to go back home, this didn't make sense. "Why? What happened?"

"It seems some angels prefer to live among humans on earth rather than in heaven. There were two living in the woods together. There were… complications. Murder, revenge, more murder and revenge basically."

Things were vaguely falling in to place. "So you defended yourself and stole grace?"

"No, I was in a severely weakened state. One of the angels survived and came after us. She was bent on avenging her partner. We were ambushed." Cass went silent for a moment.

Something seemed wrong. His demeanor was starting to raise alarms in your mind. "Cass… What happened?"

"Y/N, I need you to be honest with me."

"What about?" You were puzzled as to what Castiel wanted to know.

"Did you contact Crowley?"

Random. "Uh, yeah…" Might as well admit it. "Overheard Sam talkin' to you on the phone. Dean was looking real bad and… I kinda lost it. Didn't know who else t' ask. Bastard said no. Why?"

Castiel ran a hand over his face. "Crowley showed up. He murdered the angel that was attacking us… after stealing her grace."

Crowley saved Cass… CROWLEY saved Cass?! "No…" Your entire being felt like it was about to explode. This was the fucking cherry on top of the shit sundae you'd lived through. The demon that had been the architect of all your pain was the one now responsible for saving your best friend. No… he saved everyone… You put the pieces together and realized that Crowley saved Castiel because he knew he would be merely pushing the first domino over in a chain reaction to save you and the Winchesters after your call. Crowley also knew that messing with Castiel would be a guaranteed way to drive you insane.

Castiel sensed your tailspin and placed a hand on your cheek in an effort to calm you. "Please, I can't tune your thoughts out while you're screaming." His kind eyes faintly glowed blue as a reminder to you that he was no longer human or low on grace.

Normally, staying out of your head wasn't a problem. Cass said thoughts only got too be too loud to tune out during hunts. Deep breaths. Calm down.

After a few moments you regained composure, Cass spoke again. "Better." You could see it in his face how badly he wanted to fix you and how it pained him that he couldn't. "Crowley offered me the stolen grace and I took it. He told me Dean was becoming a problem and that I should get here quickly to resolve the issue."

"Anything else?" You nearly held your breath. There's no way he did this out of the goodness of his heart.

"You should know that Crowley said that you and I both 'owe him one.'"

"One what?"

"He didn't say. I'm assuming he will ask us for a favor in the future."

Shit.

"Exactly." Castiel's eyes widened when he realized what had happened. "Sorry… I—I'm having trouble tuning everyone out today."

"It's ok. You didn't mean to." You could forgive Cass for an occasional slip. If he hadn't been listening earlier, he might not have found you in the hallway or stopped Dean. "How are Dean and Sam right now?" You might as well ask since he couldn't help hearing.

His head tilted slightly. "They're significantly quieter than earlier. My best guess is that Dean is sleeping and that Sam has nearly passed out."

You nodded. "Good." The bottle you'd been drinking from was empty now. You sat up and set it on your nightstand. "Hey, Cass?"

"Yes?"

Gingerly, you began trying to move towards him. Geez, everything was starting to hurt again.

"You shouldn't move. You may injure yourself further."

Ugh, he's right. It hurts too much anyways. "Then come here Feather Brain. I have something to tell you." The angel leaned in closer and you wrapped your arms around him. He immediately returned the embrace. "Tune in for a minute. Ok?"

Castiel hesitated. "Are you sure?" He looked at you with careful consideration.

You nodded in reply.

"I'm listening."

For a moment, you allowed yourself to open the floodgates of all the thoughts and feelings you couldn't bring yourself to say out loud. "You almost died, don't you ever do that again! You can't do that to me or the Winchesters. Thank you. Thank you for saving all of us and curing Dean. And please don't leave. Please stay here tonight. Everything hurts and I'm so scared and it's dark—"

You pulled away when you realized where your thoughts were going. Castiel used his thumb to brush a tear from your cheek in the darkness. He'd heard it and felt it all but thankfully said nothing.

"I'm sure you're tired. You need sleep to heal as well." He got up and for a moment you were afraid he might go. Instead, he simply moved to the chair near your bed. "Both Sam and Dean asked me to watch over you tonight since I don't sleep. I'll just wait here, if you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind. G'night, Feathers." You laid back feeling a little bit better and let sleep wash over you.