Gibbs glanced between the two young men standing uncomfortably in his lounge room. His team was spread through the room seated and leaning against walls. "What do you mean, we can't handle this? This team…"

The younger one cut him off before he could finish. "Has never handled anything even remotely close to what these guys are capable of. If you want your team to live, you send us in first and only come in if we need backup."

"We have handled terrorists and serial killers; we have handled all kinds of things. What makes you think we cannot handle this?" Ziva asked angrily.

Dean blinked and Gibbs watched the change in fascination. He went from a carefree smartass to a weary warrior within a moment. He suddenly seemed more tired than any soldier or marine Gibbs had ever seen. And the kid was too young to have served. "Have any of you ever been tortured for something?" Ziva nodded slowly, not sure where he was taking this. "How long did you last, before you gave them what they wanted?"

She blinked; shocked that he was speaking so bluntly about torture. "A week, it may have been a little longer…"

Dean scoffed. "I lasted thirty years before I did what they wanted me to do. Thirty years with the most experienced torturer there is. And that bastard enjoys his work." Sam was visibly paler as Dean spoke; the younger brother did not like this topic. He paled even further as Dean rolled up his sleeves to show his forearms – covered in scars.

Tony scoffed. "Thirty years? They would have had to have started ten years before you were born…" his voice trailed off when he met Dean's eyes, openly expressing the horrors of his memories. Horrors no twenty-something year old should know.

"I was in the Pit…Hell, for four months up here. Forty years down there." He took a deep breath; shoving the memories away and pulling his carefree mask back up. "Anyway, point is, Sammy and I? We've dealt with shit you can't even imagine."

"So, if we're taking on a vampire…nest, why don't we just blow out their windows?" Abby asked, seeing that Dean needed the attention taken off him for a while.

Sam smiled. "We are going to blow out their windows, but sunlight only slows them down. They don't burst into flames or anything Ms Scuito."

"They don't sparkle either…" Dean murmured under his breath, though everyone heard him. Apparently the movies had offended him.

Sam smirked at his brother before turning back to the others. "Dead man's blood will…immobilise them. Then you have to cut their heads off."

Dean nodded. "Biting won't turn you, so don't worry if you get nipped. Just don't let them feed you any of their blood." He paused for a moment, considering his words. "If you do get turned, somehow, it's not the end of the world. I've known a couple of vampires who have an…alternate lifestyle. Takes a lot of effort though." His eyes were sad when he mentioned those he knew, and Abby picked up on it.

"What happened to the ones you knew?" she asked quietly. Dean's shoulders slumped slightly and he gave her a sad smile.

"Benny is…stuck in purgatory. I haven't been able to figure a way to get him out yet." He threw a glare Sam's way. "But I will get him out." He paused for a second. "So basically, you guys hang back and make sure none get passed us. The less involved you get the less likely it will be that we have to stick our necks out for you."

x x x

Gibbs watched in shock as Sam half supported and half carried Dean back to the Impala. They had promised to call for backup should they need it. By the looks of Dean, they had needed it and not called. By the time Gibbs and the rest of his team got to the brothers Sam had laid Dean out on the ground and was praying.

"Cas, if you can hear me, Dean really needs you buddy. He doesn't have much longer. Cas, please, come." A tear slipped down Sam's cheek as he watched his brother closely.

"No chick flick moments, bitch." Dean murmured with a chuckle. He didn't seem to mind that he was bleeding out on a dirt road. Before any of the team could so much as mention a hospital a man appeared out of thin air, wearing a trench coat.

"Dean, I need you to allow me to heal you." The man called Cas spoke gruffly, urgently. His eyes were worried.

"It's not exactly like he can fight you right now…" Tony tried to make light of the situation, trying to smother his own worry for the young Hunter.

Sam shook his head. "For an angel to heal you or possess you, they have to receive permission from you first. Dean has a standing no healing order. If he loses consciousness before he gives Cas the go ahead, he'll die." He turned back to his brother and slapped him, harder than the others thought necessary, in the face. "Dean, tell Cas he can heal you."

Dean roused slightly, glaring at Sam before turning his eyes to Cas. "Castiel can heal me, this once. No possessing me."

Tony rolled his eyes, thinking the Hunter was being overly dramatic. Sam saw the eye roll and glared at the agent. Classic 'bitch face'. "He's not paranoid you know. Michael keeps on trying to get him to say yes. Then there's the fact that Uriel gave him stomach cancer, removed his lungs… He's not paranoid."

Cas touched a hand to Dean's chest and suddenly he was taking a gasping breath. "Jesus Cas, no need to get all stroppy." He mumbled as they heard his ribs cracking back into place.

"Not get stroppy?" Cas asked angrily. "You have a standing order that won't let me heal you, Dean. What happens when you fall unconscious from blood loss one day and can't wake up to give me one time permission to heal you?"

Dean shrugged. "I die, Cas, like I was meant to years ago. And this time they might leave my soul wherever it ends up, and let my carcass rot like it's meant to."

"But I can heal you." Cas argued weakly. The NCIS team could tell this was an old argument from the resigned way Cas was pleading. Dean would hold firm.

"And what's dead should stay dead Cas. I've already broken that rule more times than I care to count." He spoke softly, obviously not liking that his decision was hurting his brother and his friend.