On to part two! Hope you enjoy the whump/caring portion.

Part Two

It was another few minutes before they got to the motel, and Mary parked right in front of her room before she cut the engine and hurried around to Castiel's side of the car. He tried to open the door, but could barely get his right hand to work. The bite mark on his wrist was red and inflamed, and the hellhound's saliva was burning through him, making every small move painful. He nearly toppled out of the car when Mary opened the door, but she steadied him before he could hit the pavement.

"Easy," she said, threading one arm under his to lever him out. He staggered and grabbed the roof of the car as he got to his feet, trying to keep from falling on top of Mary. But she patiently steadied him while he got his footing and then slowly helped him shuffle toward the door.

It seemed like a million years before they got inside the room and Mary maneuvered Castiel toward the bed. He cried out as he practically collapsed onto it, his wounds jarring. He was too tired to move and Mary had to lift his legs onto the bed for him.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Hush," she said, touching his good shoulder. "Just stay still while I grab the first aid things."

It wasn't a hard order to follow. Castiel couldn't move if he wanted to. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through the pain burning through his body, wincing as he knew it was only going to get worse.

"Okay," Mary said, back at his side again. "Can you sit up a bit?"

With her help, he managed to prop himself up against the headboard slightly, and made it a bit easier for Mary to pull his coat and suit jacket off. His shirt she just cut since it was torn up anyway. Castiel couldn't help the gasp as the air hit his overly sensitive skin. Goosebumps broke out over his upper body almost painfully and he shivered.

"Okay, let's see this," Mary spoke softly and gently lifted the makeshift pad from his stomach. He bit his lip, and she hissed in sympathy. He caught the worried look on her face as she was able to fully inspect the wounds in full light now.

"These are deep and they're still bleeding," she said, and he craned his head slightly to see, ignoring the pull on the bite wound in his shoulder. Nausea clutched at his stomach as he saw the deep slashes the hellhound had left in his flesh from his right ribcage to his left hip. There wasn't just blood leaking from them either, but wisps of grace as well and he had precious little of that left to spare. He closed his eyes with a groan, slumped back against the pillow.

"Just patch them up as well as you can, they won't heal until the poison works itself out of my system."

Mary pressed her lips together and took out a box of butterfly bandages somewhat hesitantly. "Are you sure you won't need stitches?"

He shook his head. "No, I…I'd probably just rip them out in the throws of the fever."

She gave him a worried look, but set to work, first washing the wounds, dabbing the blood away and using peroxide to clean them. Castiel dug his fingers into the sheets, pain ripping through him with every movement Mary made no matter how gentle she was being. He thought vaguely that they should have put down towels to avoid getting blood all over the bed coverlet, but it was too late for that, and he didn't think he could move enough to get towels underneath of him now anyway.

As she finished butterflying the wounds in his stomach and started covering them in gauze, he could feel the deep ache of the fever starting inside of him in earnest, culminating from the two bite wounds.

"You're gonna have to hurry up," he warned Mary. "The fever is starting to set in."

She hurriedly fished through the first aid bag. "I need to pressure wrap this so we can protect your wounds a little better. Do you think you can sit up for just a couple minutes?"

Castiel wasn't sure at all, but he allowed her to help heave him up where he practically collapsed against her. It was a bit awkward, but it gave her enough room to wrap the pressure bandage around his torso before lowering him back down as gently as possible.

The sudden shift and the rub of the bandages against the open wounds caused unspeakable pain to rip through him, forcing a cry from his lips. Mary stroked a hand through his hair, surprising him.

"Shh, we're almost done," she promised.

She swiftly cleaned the bite wounds, pausing at the one on his shoulder as she dabbed at it. He couldn't see it, but he knew it would be red and inflamed. It pounded with every heartbeat, getting hotter and hotter. He found he couldn't stay still for the pain anymore, shifting constantly to seek out a more comfortable position, but there wasn't one to be found and it was only going to get worse.

"There," Mary said as she finished wrapping gauze loosely around the bite on his wrist and swiftly cleaned up the first aid supplies.

He just closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the pain. He knew even unconsciousness wasn't going to keep his suffering at bay. He felt briefly ashamed that she had to see him like this, figured she was probably wondering how the hell such a weak and helpless creature had done anything good for her sons. But Mary simply bustled around to make him more comfortable. She first pulled off his shoes, and then gently pulled the coverlet and sheet from under him before draping the light sheet over his shivering body. He opened his eyes incredulously as she pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down.

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you, Castiel?" she asked softly, with a helpless tone to her voice that touched him, but he shook his head, trying to contain the whimper that wanted to escape his throat as another wave of agony washed through him.

"No. I just…have to ride it out. The only thing you can do is…make sure I stay on the bed."

Mary gave him a pained expression, before she reached out and started carding her fingers gently through his hair again. Even though his whole body felt on fire, the movement was soothing, and he found his eyes closing again.

"Just try to rest then," she coaxed.

He moaned deep in his throat and shifted slightly as the ache started to get worse. There wouldn't be any rest for him that night. But in a very vulnerable moment he had before he started to drift into the fever's delirium, he was simply glad he didn't have to go through this alone.

Mary watched Castiel slip into what seemed to be a restless sleep, tossing more and more as the hour passed. His fever was rising too, and she eventually had to go grab some washcloths from the bathroom and wet them with cool water. She placed one on his brow and used the other to cool his neck and shoulders a bit. He moaned at the ministrations, but turned toward the cool cloth eagerly, so she thought it must be helping at least a bit.

Truthfully, she was hoping this would be as bad as it got. A fever she could deal with. Taking care of an angel with a fever couldn't be so much different than two sick little boys—or a sick husband, for that matter, and Castiel had certainly already been a better patient than John ever had been when he'd been sick.

A sad smile crossed her lips, as well as a dull ache in her chest at the thought of her now grown boys being held god knows where, without any idea when or how rescue would come. She studied the wounded angel again for a long moment, thinking of all the hours he had put into looking for them so dedicatedly. She had seen how Sam and Dean were around him, treating him like another brother, and she had come to really like the angel too, even felt a kinship with him, seeing as he felt a little out of place, just like she did. She vowed then to her boys, wherever they were, that she would get their friend through this. If she could do nothing else for them now, she would get Castiel better and they would resume their search for Sam and Dean and bring them home.

Unfortunately, Castiel's ailment didn't stop at the simple fever. About half an hour after he had fallen into a restless sleep, he startled her by crying out suddenly, and jerking to one side in the bed. She quickly stood from the chair and tried to calm him, hoping he wouldn't hurt himself too badly, and found his whole body trembling. She hadn't truly realized how badly he was burning up until her hand touched his bare shoulder underneath the bite wound. She pulled her hand back on instinct at the heat, gasping in shock. He had to at least be past anything lethal for a human already. Maybe he was seizing, or maybe this was just from the poison, but in any case, she didn't know what was right and wrong to do.

When he calmed down a little, panting heavily, she ran to the bathroom and re-wet the cloths, but they weren't going to fix this. She glanced at the empty ice bucket that had been provided in the room, and glanced back at Castiel.

"I'll be right back," she whispered to him, even though she was pretty sure he wouldn't hear her. She grabbed the bucket and ran to fill it, hoping no one wondered why she was running around the motel in the middle of the night.

When she got back, she was horrified to find Castiel in the throws of another fit, twisting himself up in the sheets, and groaning through clenched teeth. She ran to him, climbing onto the bed in order to hold him down, even though he fought her.

"Castiel, shh, it's okay," she murmured, stroking his cheek and hair, which had seemed to calm him earlier. "Everything will be okay." She hoped anyway. A glance down at the bandages covering Castiel's stomach told her that the wounds were already bleeding through. The way he was twisting and jerking around, she was glad he had insisted against the stitches.

He did calm again eventually, gasping for breath and falling limp as if he had exhausted himself. Mary swallowed hard, having a bad feeling this was only the beginning of a long night.

She climbed off the bed, untangling the sheet from Castiel's legs, and started to pack the ice into towels, tucking them around his body. He moaned, and shivered at the contact, but it seemed like it might be helping, at least for a moment. Mary resumed her seat beside the bed and continued bathing his brow between cooling the cloth off.

Castiel's fits didn't stop though, in fact, they only seemed to be getting more frequent and violent. She was constantly worried that someone would come and investigate his cries, but there was nothing she could do about it.

They were approaching the end of the second hour when Castiel's eyes flew open, darting around in panic as he rolled onto his side, clawing his way to the edge of the bed.

Mary was on her feet instantly, trying to stop him. "Cas, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to get his attention, wondering how lucid he was.

"Ne—need to get—up," Castiel ground out and nearly slid over the side of the bed before Mary grabbed him to keep him from doing that.

"No, stay there," she pleaded. "You'll hurt yourself."

Cas whimpered. "Gonna be sick," he croaked.

Mary's eyes widened, understanding dawning. She dashed across the room for the garbage can and was back just in time for Castiel's stomach to rebel.

"Easy," she soothed as he heaved violently, but brought nothing up but bile—obviously the angel never really ate anything. But the action was likely excruciating with his stomach clawed open like it was. Cas gave a strangled scream as the vomiting stopped and he practically fell off the bed. Mary steadied him though and pushed him back onto the pillows. The angel was shuddering and sobs of pain escaped his throat along with tears streaming down his cheeks. She felt something inside of her break at the sight and hurriedly grabbed the cloth to wipe his face.

"Shh, just relax, Cas," she coaxed. "Breathe."

He moaned, eyes flicking open. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Mary frowned, leaning over to meet his eyes. "Sorry about what?"

His face crumpled in pain again. "Sorry for…for being a burden…"

Mary quickly took hold of his hand, squeezing firmly. "You're not a burden, Castiel. It's not your fault this happened, but I don't mind taking care of you. You're family."

Cas looked incredulous for a while but his face eventually softened into heartfelt gratitude. Mary squeezed his hand again with a small smile before starting to extricate the tangled blankets from around him.

"Let me check your wounds," she said.

They were bad. Blood soaked the bandages around his waist and Mary swallowed hard. She couldn't do anything about this, not if Castiel kept throwing up. It would just aggravate the wounds more.

She pressed her lips together, and readjusted the ice packs around his body, hoping that if she could keep him cool, then maybe she could keep the vomiting from continuing at least.

Of course, that was just wishful thinking. Castiel vomited twice more, or really just went through the motions since nothing came up, only resulting in his wounds tearing further. Blood was soaking through the sheets now and there wasn't a thing Mary could do about it.

Also, when she peeled back the bandage on his wrist to check on the bite wounds, she almost vomited herself as she saw how inflamed it was. Blackened puncture wounds, and the skin almost bright red around the teeth holes.

Cas also seemed to be worsening if that were possible. He didn't toss so much anymore as he just shuddered and twitched, like he didn't have the energy, and the pitiful hoarse cries and whimpers that escaped from his throat tore her heart out. She tried to keep him cool but it was really just pointless. The ice all melted too fast and he was now lying on a wet bed to top if all off. When she felt his pulse, it was fast and thready, his breathing came in sharp gasps…Mary began to fear that despite his assurance that this wouldn't kill him, she was going to lose him anyway.

And then what would she do? Sam and Dean would be devastated when she got them back—and without Cas, how was she going to get them back? Alone? She didn't think she could do that. It really just came down to the fact that she couldn't lose someone else. Not now. Cas was just going to have to pull through.

Her phone rang then, startling her. She glanced at the clock, saw it was three AM and frowned, wondering who could be calling.

However when she grabbed her phone off the table, she found it wasn't ringing after all. As she looked around in confusion, she saw a glow coming from the pocket of Castiel's discarded trench coat. She swiftly fished it out and answered.

"Hello?"

"It's about bloody time, I've been waiting for a confirmation for three hours now! I began to think you were dead!"

Mary winced at Crowley's loud voice.

"The hellhound's dead," she replied tersely.

"See, was that so hard?" he paused then. "By the way, where's Feathers?"

Mary glanced over to the shuddering figure on the bed. "He's hurt."

"Ah, so that's why you didn't check in."

"Crowley," Mary cut in swiftly. "Do you know how to cure hellhound poisoning?"

"Hellhound poisoning isn't really a thing unless you're an angel," Crowley replied.

"Just tell me what you do for it!" she demanded.

"Ah, now I see where Squirrel gets his bad attitude from," Crowley quipped. Mary was about to yell at him again, when he finally got on with it. "I'm guessing Cas got winged by the hound. There may be something, but I'd have to see the injuries."

"Then get over here!" she cried.

"Demanding much? I do have a kingdom to run, you know."

"I will summon you if I have to," Mary snapped.

A longsuffering sigh was heard over the phone. "Fine, I'll be there in a second."

The call ended and there was a knock on the door. Mary went to open it, and the King of Hell was standing there in the doorway, looking less than impressed.

"Just so we're clear, I'm not in the habit of making house calls," he said.

Mary rolled her eyes and stepped away from the door. Crowley strode in and went straight to the bed, glancing down at Castiel.

"My, my, Cas, you always do get yourself into the worst situations," he said and reached out for the sheet.

"Wait," Mary said and Crowley gave her a long-suffering look.

"Do you want me to help him or not?"

"I'm not sure if I trust you," she said cautiously.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Of course you shouldn't trust me, love, but here, right now, I solemnly swear not to do the choir boy any further harm than has already been done to him. Hell knows, there's not much else I could do to him right now. I know you're new to the game, Mary, but despite my reputation, I am more a supporter of Team Flannel than I am against them now."

Mary pressed her lips together, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. Just get on with it then."

Crowley shrugged, and turned down the blanket, revealing Castiel's bandages torso. Cas shifted uncomfortably in the sudden burst of cold air and Mary stepped toward the bed to sit on the other side, putting a hand over his wrist gently, in case he started to get restless.

"The hound really did a number on him," Crowley said, raising an eyebrow. He reached for the bandage on Cas' shoulder and peeled it off. He gave a small hiss.

Mary swallowed hard, seeing how inflamed the wound looked. This bite was even deeper than the one on Castiel's wrist, and the puncture wounds were puckered and oozing black poison.

Crowley stepped back. "Ah, yes, that's actually worse than I thought."

Mary scowled, standing up again. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the wounds are festering at an alarming rate, probably because your flyboy is only operating on half his grace."

Mary frowned at that, then remembered Cas saying something once about 'not being up to full power'. Apparently, he had gone through just as many hard times as her boys had.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means that Castiel needs a little boost with the healing," Crowley told her. "With the extent of his wounds, his grace is working overtime just trying to keep the blood in his vessel, but it's already weakened by the poison which it can't fight off, and because of that, it's failing at doing either. If we don't help the process along it's very likely he won't make it."

Mary's stomach clenched, glancing at Castiel's prone figure again. "Then what do we do?"

"Well, I came prepared for a poultice, but I think we're beyond that right now. We're going to have to go for a more direct approach."

"What?" Mary demanded, wishing he would get to the point.

"Washing the wounds out with holy water."

Mary frowned, glancing between the demon and the wounded angel. "Would that work?"

Crowley nodded. "It's not going to be pleasant."

"Okay, then," Mary said and went to her bag, pulling out a flask of holy water.

"Ah, no," Crowley said. "You're going to need something more heavy duty than a little sprinkling. Fill the bathtub."

Mary glanced toward the bathroom. "Okay, then."

She filled the tub up so that there was only a few inches of headway and then pulled out a crucifix, performing the blessing on the water. She dropped the cross into the bottom of the tub for good measure, and then straightened up, heading back out to the room where Crowley was peeling off Castiel's bandages, causing the angel to moan in discomfort.

"Careful," Mary snapped as Crowley peeled the gauze off of his stomach wounds.

"We need to get them off. It's not my fault they're stuck with dried blood."

"Okay, you're gonna have to help me carry him," Mary told him.

Crowley scoffed. "Please." He touched Cas' shoulder and the angel disappeared.

Mary's eyes widened and Crowley rolled his. "Come on."

She followed him to the bathroom where Cas was shivering on the cold floor beside the tub. She quickly went over to him and started to heave his upper body off the floor, trying not to aggravate his wounds more than she had to. "Help me get him in the tub," she told Crowley.

The demon stayed firmly in the doorway. "I'm not getting anywhere near a tub of holy water."

Mary glared at him. "You came to help, so help."

Crowley sighed. "Fine. But don't splash."

He cautiously took hold of Cas' feet, and then as Mary counted to three, they heaved him up into the tub. There was some splashing and Crowley leapt back with a yelp, but his cry was completely tuned out by Castiel's scream.

Mary covered her ears at the sound, lights popped, and surged, flickering on and off, and Cas thrashed in the tub before she got her senses back together and bent over to keep him still.

"Shh, Cas, shh, easy," she pleaded, looking down in horror at the red-tinged water. It was sizzling around the wounds, concentrating on the bites. Castiel flailed again, and tried to push himself up, but Mary forced him back down so the water covered all his wounds, getting soaked in the process.

"I'm sorry, Cas, I'm sorry," she whispered, stroking his wet hair from his eyes as the screams turned into gut wrenching sobs of agony. She spun around to Crowley. "Is it working?"

The demon leaned forward cautiously to see and nodded. "Looks like it."

Mary sagged in relief. "Good. How long should I leave him here?"

"Until the wounds clean themselves out."

Mary looked at the bite wounds again and saw the blackness eking out into the water. She swallowed hard, and watched until the water began to clear, holding Castiel down as well as she could. His struggling weakened eventually, his cries only whimpers now. She tried not to think how much he looked and sounded like a half-drowned kitten.

"That's probably good," Crowley stated.

Mary reached in and pulled the plug to drain the water before she stood and began laying a couple towels out on the floor by the tub. Only once the water was gone, did Crowley step forward and help her lift Cas out of the tub. She dried him off gently, dabbing his wounds as he shivered, breath catching in his throat at the gentlest ministration. At least the wounds looked better now, not nearly so inflamed.

"We'll need to get him some dry clothes," she said as an afterthought, glancing down at his soaked trousers.

"Don't worry about it," Crowley told her and reached down to touch Castiel's shoulder again. The angel disappeared and Mary rose with a grunt of exasperation and went back out to the main room. Cas lay on the bed in a pair of sweat pants.

"You're welcome," Crowley told her. He disappeared for a few seconds then returned with an armful of stuff. He crossed to the table, clearing a spot and put down a bowl and several jars. "I'll make the poultice I brought along anyway, just to be on the safe side."

Mary began to work on rebandaging Castiel's wounded stomach as she narrowed her eyes at the demon. "Why are you being so helpful?"

"Please," Crowley scoffed. "I do repay my debts. Besides, if Sam and Dean ever get out of where they are, and knowing them, I'd bet high on that being the case, I'm not going to be the one they come after to lay the blame for getting their favorite lap dog chewed up."

Mary watched him carefully but nodded. "Well, thank you for helping."

Crowley cocked an eyebrow. "Well, that's certainly more than I've ever heard from your sons. You can't tell anyone though. Bad for the reputation." He poured a viscous liquid into the bowl and stirred before handing it to Mary. "This goes directly on the wounds. Pack it deep and bind them up. I won't promise perfect results, it's only a generalized poultice, but it should help things along in theory."

Mary took the bowl and turned to set it on the bedside table. By the time she turned back to grab more bandages, Crowley was gone. She was slightly perturbed at that but not surprised. Oh well, it would be easier to care for Castiel if she didn't have his snarky British accent yammering in her ear all night.

She applied the poultice and rebandaged the wounds like the demon had told her to before tucking Cas in tightly, resuming her seat beside him. For a while Cas seemed to be on the mend, but after another hour or so, he began to get restless again, tossing in the bed, and groaning. He wasn't as hot as he had been, but his fever did spike again and she took up the wet cloth to clear the beads of sweat on his brow and in the hollow of his throat.

At some point during the throws of the fever, he startled her by suddenly yelling, "No! Please! Don't make me do this!"

She carded her fingers through his hair, shushing him. "It's okay, Cas. You're safe."

But he seemed to be delirious. He pulled away from her with a moan. "Stop this, brother. Please do not hurt them," he pleaded.

Mary's heart clenched, wondering what sort of nightmare Castiel could be caught in. She hadn't even known angels could have nightmares, but apparently they could. The fact that he was pleading to a 'brother' not to do something too made her heart ache all the more.

"No! Sam!" Castiel suddenly cried, jerking on the bed, reaching out helplessly. "Dean! Lucifer, stop this! Please don't hurt them, please!"

Sick to her stomach, tears pricking behind her eyes, Mary reached out and grabbed his searching hand, gently pressing it back to the bed. "Castiel, it's okay, Lucifer is gone," she tried to get through to him.

His eyes suddenly flickered and blue slits were staring at her, bright with fever. "I can't save them," he whispered hoarsely. "I can never…never save them." A tear slid down his cheek as his eyes slid closed again in defeat. Mary felt a lump in her own throat as she gently wiped the tear away with her cloth, and continued to squeeze Castiel's hand with her other.

"We will save them this time, Castiel," she assured him firmly. "I promise we will find them and get them back."

He sighed deeply, a hitch in it, before he slumped limply back against the pillows. Mary stroked his brow again, trying to soothe him and hoping it was working. It seemed to be, or maybe Cas was just simply exhausted, because he seemed to fall into a deep slumber after that, a lot less restless now than he had been.

She was slightly worried at first, but then it seemed like his fever broke and relief flooded her. When she checked his wounds an hour later in the early morning, she saw with even more relief that they seemed to be starting to heal, if very slowly.

A few more hours of watching him and she dozed off in the chair, satisfied with the surety that he would make it through this.

Castiel blinked his eyes open, swimming up from the depths of delirium. He shifted slightly and groaned as his body protested. He forced his eyes open to see where he was, being fuzzy on what had happened to put him in this state, but then he saw Mary sitting in a chair beside his bed, blinking awake and glancing at him with concern.

"Cas?" she asked, leaning forward eagerly. "How are you?"

He grimaced, taking stock of himself. His shoulder and wrist throbbed dully, but it was his stomach that was the most painful. A searching hand found lots of padded gauze and bandages there.

"I—I think I'm okay," he said, sounding unsure even to his own ears. "Well, eventually I will be."

Mary seemed to sag in relief. "Good. I was really worried there for a moment."

The genuine concern he could hear in her voice touched him deeply. There was something so familiar there in her tone and expression that reminded him of Sam and Dean. It made his chest ache for a moment, missing his friends, but just knowing that Mary seemed to show him the same affection, viewing him as family herself as he had begun to view her too, it was just so humbling. The fact that she'd stayed with him through this was clearly testament as to how much she cared.

"Thank you," he said softly, unable to say anything else.

Luckily, Mary didn't seem to need the exact words to know what he was trying to get across. She smiled softly and reached out to touch his unwounded wrist, squeezing gently. "You're family, Castiel," she said simply, repeating what she had said before.

He didn't know what he could reply to that, didn't think he had to say anything at all. Instead, he just closed his eyes again, thinking that he might sleep a little longer to help his wounds heal.

Then Mary's phone buzzed, and he heard a sharp intake of breath from her.

"What is it?" he asked tiredly.

"It's from Crowley," she said. "He says he may have found something about Sam and Dean. Sent some cooridinents…"

Castiel tried to push himself up onto his elbows, biting back the grunt of pain. "Where?"

Mary instantly put the phone aside and stood, pressing him back to the pillows. Castiel was forced to comply, though he was not happy about it.

"Hold on, we're not going anywhere until you're healed," she said firmly.

"But…"

"But nothing," she said in a distinct motherly tone, crossing her arms over her chest. "You'll be no good to them half dead. How long do you think it will take you to heal?"

Castiel pressed his lips together, shrugging. "Another twelve hours, conservatively."

"Then we're staying here until then," Mary said firmly. "In the meantime, I'll find out as much as I can about their location, think about how to get them out." She went over to the table and turned on her laptop before glancing back at Castiel. "You're not a burden, Cas," she told him quietly. "And I need you with me on this, so rest." Then she added almost as an afterthought. "You remember when you said you didn't think you fit in?"

Castiel shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the topic as he still wasn't sure if that was totally accurate or not. "Yes."

"Well, I think you do. Right here," she said firmly. "Look what you've gone through for Sam and Dean, they're your family. If you didn't belong with them, do you think you would go to all this trouble?"

Castiel frowned. It was true, he had began his relationship with the Winchesters out of duty, but now…duty never came into it. He was looking for them now because he wanted them back, so…maybe Mary was right.

He managed a small smile. "You're right. But, Mary, I think you fit in here too. And you're my family too."

A slightly surprised, yet pleased smile spread over her lips before her gaze turned determined. "We will get them back, Castiel."

"I know," he replied.

"Now get some rest," she insisted.

"Alright," he sighed, but couldn't really argue. He did need the rest after what he'd gone through, and he knew she was right.

But he rested with the knowledge that it wouldn't be long now before they found Sam and Dean. Just the thought of getting their family back lulled him to sleep.

And knowing for sure where he belonged now made resting all the easier.

And that's the end of this oneshot! Stay tuned for Friday when I post the first chapter of "The Ties That Bind" the sequel to "Family First" So, if you haven't read Family First yet, go read it before Friday :)