Chapter 10: All Together Now

Sam stared dumbly at Crowley, trying to form a coherent thought. The demon had the Colt in his hand, and Magnus was dead on the floor by one of the gun's supernatural bullets. So was the vampire. As blood pooled around Magnus's head, the wall behind Crowley wobbled and was replaced with the broken doors once more.

The demon arched a brow over his shoulder. "Hm, that's a nice trick."

"I thought you left," Sam blurted.

Crowley's mouth twitched smugly. "Yes, well, I'm full of surprises." He ran his gaze over the Winchesters, and Sam stiffened as he realized he and Dean were still chained to the marble columns and Cas was still unconscious.

Crowley scrutinized them for a long moment before smirking and snapping his fingers. The chains fell away, landing with a clunk on the floor. Sam rubbed his arms to relieve the tingling where his circulation had been pinched. He eyed Crowley warily. With the way the demon swung back and forth between helping them and not helping them, Sam had no idea what to expect.

Dean slowly bent down to check on Cas, and after pressing his fingers to the angel's neck for a pulse, stood again. He cleared his throat. "Well, it took you long enough."

"You're welcome." Crowley cocked his head to admire the Colt before tossing it to Sam, who fumbled to catch it. "There, now you have what you need to hunt the Devil."

Sam turned the gun over in his hands, angling a sidelong look at Dean. His older brother's expression was a stoic mask. Don't telegraph your next move to the enemy. Curling his finger around the trigger, Sam raised the barrel at Crowley and squeezed. The Colt made the soft click of an empty chamber. Shit.

Crowley slipped his hands into his pockets, pursing his lips. "Right, you'll need more bullets." With that, he turned and nonchalantly strode out of the room.

Sam and Dean shifted awkwardly, but there was nothing they could do about Crowley for the moment, so they turned their attention to the downed angel.

"How'd you know the scar would break the binding, Sam?" Dean asked as he knelt beside Cas.

"I didn't." Sam sunk to one knee on Castiel's other side, putting a hand on his shoulder. He was relieved to see the steady rise and fall of the angel's chest. "But Magnus said he was binding their essences together, and how he needed part of Cas's true form—like one of his feathers. Then when you mentioned Hell, I remembered the scar Cas gave you, and he was in his true form then, right?"

Dean arched his brows impatiently. "Yeah, but I still don't see how you thought it would do anything."

"Well, Magnus was using his blood and Cas's feather to create a physical link…basically scarring him with that brand. I was just hoping that the connection he had with you would be stronger, because it's more than a superficial mark." He shrugged helplessly. "It really was a Hail Mary kind of epiphany."

Dean just gaped at him, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he digested all of that. After a long moment, he swallowed hard. "Well, you're definitely a nerd. But next round of beers is on me." Dean gently shook Cas's shoulder. "Cas, you in there?"

Castiel's eyelids fluttered and slowly opened, and Sam let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Cas's eyes were a completely vibrant blue, no trace of gray.

Dean smiled. "Hey, Cas."

"Dean?" He tried to lift his head, and both brothers looped an arm under his to help him sit up. "Sam?"

"Yeah, how are you feeling?" Sam peeled a bit of sticky shirt away from Cas's chest to inspect the brand. The patterned seal was ruined; not a single thick line of it remained under the dripping sludge. Castiel's flesh was still burned around the area, and Sam hoped he'd be able to heal it soon. With a start, he remembered the sigiled manacles around the angel's wrists. They were probably blocking his healing powers.

"I…" Cas swept his gaze around the room, and his features tightened when he settled on Magnus. "I'm fine," he said gruffly.

Sam wasn't sure he believed that, but he'd take an obstinate Cas over a brainwashed one any day. He twisted around to search Magnus's pockets and pulled out a clunky key he hoped fit the shackles.

"You remember what happened?" Dean asked.

Castiel dropped his gaze to his hands, watching intently as Sam inserted the key into one of the manacles.

"Cas?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "I remember."

Dean huffed. "Good. Don't you ever do that again."

Castiel seemed to curl in on himself. "I'm sorry, Dean. I would never hurt you or Sam. I…" His voice wavered, and Sam shot his brother a pointed look.

Dean blinked. "What? I'm talking about offering to trade yourself for us and a stupid gun."

Castiel glanced up, cocking his head as though Dean had just made one of his enigmatic, pop culture references. "The Colt is not just any gun; you need it to kill Lucifer. Plus, we were trapped, and I'd hoped Magnus would have found it an equitable trade."

Sam shook his head as he unlocked the last manacle. The silver metal clattered to the floor and he tossed the pieces into the blazing hearth where they fractured a log with a sharp crackle.

Dean ran a hand over his hair. "We need you more. Dammit, Cas. This family's done enough sacrificing ourselves for each other."

The angel's brow furrowed further.

Sam sighed. Either Cas didn't remember their pleas to him when he'd been under Magnus's control, or he still didn't understand. "Honestly, Cas, you don't think you're part of that family now?"

If possible, the angel looked even more confused, and a little broken. "I tried to kill you," he ground out, avoiding their eyes. "For an angel to be compromised like that…for me to be compromised… You can no longer trust me."

Dean snorted.

"Cas, this wasn't your fault," Sam pressed, trying to make him understand; there was no way he or Dean would ever blame him for what had just happened. "You held out against Magnus a good long while. He couldn't even make the first binding stick!"

"Because he didn't have the correct ingredients."

Dean scowled. "No, because you're one tough son-of-a-bitch."

"Not strong enough," the angel said bitterly.

"Hey, we've all been there," Sam said. "Last year Dean and I got bespelled by a siren and almost killed each other. So, heh, welcome to the club."

Castiel frowned. "That doesn't seem like a good club."

Dean let out a stifled laugh. "Look, Cas, you remember what happened, so you must have heard all those things Sam and I said to you?" He tilted his head forward to catch the angel's eyes, waiting like that until Cas finally met his gaze.

After a moment of staring, Cas nodded reluctantly. "It was…distant." His expression contorted as he tried to parse it out. "Like one of your dreams. But yes, I heard…what you said."

"Well, we weren't spouting a bunch of bunk just to get you to stop; we meant every word."

The perplexed look on Castiel's face made Sam's chest hurt. "You're like a brother to us, Cas, whether you like it or not." Sure, the guy had thousands of brothers and sisters in Heaven, but Sam had seen how they treated each other. He squeezed the angel's arm. "No matter what."

Castiel seemed to sag as some invisible weight left his shoulders. "Thank you Sam, Dean."

Dean clapped Castiel on the back. "Good, now let's get out of here. I've had my fill of zoos." He and Sam helped pull Cas to his feet. Though not as weak as when they'd freed him from the dungeon, he wasn't back to his normal self, and Sam wanted to perform some proper care for that burn as soon as possible.

They made it out into the hall and partway down the corridor when Crowley reappeared. "Ah, so you got your angel back too. The box of bullets is waiting outside. No offense, but I think we all know where we stand on trust. Good luck killing Lucifer." The crossroads demon then strolled into another den and started tutting over various antiquities.

"Thanks for the new digs, by the way." Crowley flicked a dismissive hand, and the doors slammed shut with a resounding thud.

Sam shot his brother a baffled look. A muscle in Dean's jaw ticked, but he jerked his head for them to get moving, and with Castiel supported between them, they made their way out of the mansion.

The box of bullets was on the front step, just as Crowley had said, and Dean paused to snatch it up.

"Dean, do you really think it's a good idea to leave Crowley with the largest collection of supernatural items and weapons?"

"No, Sam, I think it's a terrible idea, but what choice do we have? And frankly, we have bigger fish to fry."

As they moved further from the mansion, the brick walls coruscated with golden light that gradually folded in on itself like undulating silk. Eventually, nothing was left but an apparently barren field.

They made it back to the Impala, and the boys eased Cas into the backseat. Leaving the door wide open, Sam knelt in front of the angel while Dean retrieved the first aid kit from the trunk. Sam doused a handkerchief in water, and eyed the red and charred flesh before he began wiping the black ooze away from the burn.

"Your healing going to kick in soon?"

Castiel watched curiously, though the lines around his eyes tightened in what Sam guessed was pain. "I'm…not sure."

"Maybe we should purify the wound with holy water." Sam angled his head up to look at Dean, who was hovering over his shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Couldn't hurt." He went to get some from the trunk.

"If you're worried about the binding seal," Castiel said. "It has been broken, plus Magnus is dead. I'm in control of myself again."

Sam smiled. "I know, Cas. I'm more worried about some kind of supernatural infection or poison. That was some ugly magic."

Castiel didn't have anything to say to that. Dean handed Sam a flask of holy water, and he carefully tipped the opening over the burn. He braced himself for the liquid to bubble or foam, even though there hadn't been anything demonic in Magnus's spell, and was relieved when nothing happened, except to dilute more of the melting blood ink. Sam wiped the last of it away, and then spread some burn cream over the area before taping a square piece of gauze over it.

Dean pointed out a cut on Castiel's arm, so Sam checked that next. It didn't look like it was healing either. Was that because of the binding spell's effects? Or did it have something to do with him falling? Sam hadn't forgotten what Cas said when he'd tried to negotiate with Magnus. He already knew Castiel was cut off from Heaven and couldn't do certain things anymore, like heal people, but what happened if eventually he couldn't heal himself either? Sam figured that'd be a hard pill for the angel to swallow, but hopefully he'd let Sam and Dean be there for him. And in the meantime, he just hoped Cas only needed to recharge his batteries.

Sam cleaned the laceration, which he determined didn't need stitches, applied some antiseptic, and then wrapped it in a bandage. "Finished."

Castiel moved as though to climb out of the car.

"Whoa, where are you going?"

He quirked a brow. "If you're finished, shouldn't I go?"

Dean stepped closer to Sam as though to physically block Castiel's escape. "No, I want you to stay right here, you got it?"

Castiel tilted his head up and blinked owlishly. "Why?"

Dean opened his mouth, and then shut it with an eye roll. "Just, humor me, okay?"

Castiel eased back into the seat. "Alright." Though he sounded mildly put out, Sam thought he saw a flicker of relief in Cas's eyes.

"What about when Magnus pulled out your feathers, Cas?" Sam asked hesitantly. He had no idea how to perform first aid on invisible angel wings, nor did he think it a good idea to ask Cas to materialize them after what had happened.

Cas rolled his shoulders, making Sam wonder just where those wings were at the moment. There certainly couldn't be enough room in the back of the Impala.

"It's not serious, and will mend."

Sam would just have to take his word for it. He gathered up the first aid supplies and stood, prepared to return the kit to the trunk, but found Dean still crammed near his shoulder and lingering over the back door, shifting his weight as though uncomfortable.

"Cas, listen, about your wings…I didn't know, man. I'm sorry."

Castiel frowned. "What about them?"

"That they got ruined when you rescued me from Hell."

Sam swallowed a sound of surprise. Yeah, that had been one shocking revelation he'd almost forgotten about. He politely ducked his gaze so Dean wouldn't have to endure his sympathetic staring, but cast a furtive glance at Cas.

Castiel studied Dean. "I suppose we both have scars to bear. But I do not regret my actions." He paused. "Any of them."

"Still, Cas, you've given up so much for us. It's hardly fair."

Cas's brows knit together, gaze drifting down. After another prolonged moment, he lifted his eyes, and there was a renewed vigor in them. "I believe…" he said slowly, as though testing the words. "That is what family does."

Dean looked taken aback, and then let out a small chuckle, clasping Cas on the shoulder. "Yeah, that's what we do."

Sam couldn't help but grin. So they were an odd, dysfunctional trio—two hunters and a fallen angel. But they were family. And together they could handle anything.

Dean cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Okay then. Let's go ice the Devil."

Epilogue

Crowley leaned back in a luxurious leather sofa and propped his legs up on a matching footrest. He swirled a bit of merlot in a wine glass before tasting the smoky vintage enriched with black cherry fruit. The demon smacked his lips in pleasure. He roved his gaze over the gallery he was reclining in—one of many in Magnus's mansion—noting each piece of exquisite art and relics. He couldn't wait to go through it all. And thanks to the Winchesters, Crowley now had all the time in the world to do so. He was safely tucked away in an invisible fortress, out of Lucifer's reach, with a storehouse of supernatural weapons and artifacts. His own little kingdom.

He needed to clear out the "zoo" occupants first, and convert the space to a working torture chamber. He felt mild regret that Magnus wouldn't be the first to enjoy a stay there, but the magician was just too unpredictable to have let live.

As were the Winchesters, Crowley had to admit. They had the potential to be tenacious little thorns in his side, but only if they managed to survive killing the Devil. Which, honestly, was a long shot to begin with. So Crowley wasn't worried at the moment. He drained his merlot and rose to his feet.

Time to play with his new toys.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Go Team Free Will! And, er, Crowley? 0_o I honestly have no idea how he managed to hijack the ending.

For those that are wondering, I have started plotting another fic. Hope to see you next time!