Okay guys, we're at the final chapter here! Thanks to my Anonymous reviewer, I'm glad you're enjoying this :)

Also, instead of starting a new multi-chap story on Monday, I'm just going to be posting Christmas stories every few days until Christmas :) So you can enjoy some fluffiness for the holiday!

Chapter Seven

Dean pulled into the hospital parking lot and slammed on the brakes, doing probably the worst parking job of his life. He was out of the car, almost before he had grabbed the keys from the ignition and opening up the back to see if he could rouse Sam to get him inside.

"Sammy, hey, I need you to wake up and give me a little help here, okay? It's not far, I promise."

Sam stirred and whimpered, eyes fluttering slightly before they blinked open. "D'n?" he murmured.

"Yeah, kiddo. Look, I can't carry you so you gotta help out and at least stand up, okay?"

Sam nodded once even though his eyes slid shut again. Dean bit his lip and glanced over the back of the seat toward Cas' slumped figure. He reached out and shook the angel's shoulder slightly. "Cas? Come on, man." But the angel didn't stir, completely out. Dean worriedly pressed his fingers to Cas' neck and felt a pulse there so at least he was still alive. At least, the poor guy he was riding around in was. It was too dark in the parking lot to see if any of Cas' wounds were healing. Still, he was covered in blood and Dean swiftly pulled a blanket from the back of the car, and draped it over Cas as if he were just someone taking a nap in the parking lot.

Dean then turned back to Sam and lifted his legs out of the car to start with before reaching in for his arms. "Okay, on three, one…two…"

He heaved Sam up and the younger man was unable to help a cry of pain as he completely collapsed against Dean, his legs unable to take his weight. Dean staggered, puffing as he tried to keep his brother upright. He waited for Sam to get his footing, and then slung one of his arms over his shoulders and firmly gripped the waistband of Sam's jeans with his other hand to keep him up without putting too much pressure on his wounds, then they started on the now impossibly long walk toward the emergency room entrance.

Thankfully, as they were staggering across the parking lot, some of the hospital personnel must have caught sight of them because they rushed out with a gurney to help. They promptly loaded Sam up and Dean had to answer a ton of questions that he couldn't answer truthfully as they rushed Sam inside. Dean suddenly found himself alone in the waiting room, answering even more invasive questions, growing more and more frantic by the minute with Sam out of his sight.

It was a long process, but Dean eventually put a stop to their questions and demanded to see his brother and once the doctor had finished with Sam, Dean was finally allowed to go to the room they had put him in. Dean stopped just inside and swallowed hard as he saw his brother lying there in the hospital bed. He may not have blood all over him anymore, but it hardly helped. He was still covered in bruises and cuts and now bandages. His eyes had purple bruises under them, and his breathing was slightly labored even with the cannula offering him extra oxygen. It didn't matter how many times one of them had been in this position, stuck in a hospital bed, beat to hell, it never got any easier.

Dean pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and sank down, exhausted. He reached up and took Sam's limp hand in his, watching the monitors that told him his brother was still alive.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," he whispered, rubbing his thumb over Sam's bruised knuckles. "I'm so sorry."

He was surprised when Sam's fingers tightened around his and a small groan escaped his brother's throat. Dean leaned closer to his head, reaching up to cup the side of Sam's face.

"Hey, you awake in there?" he asked softly.

Sam's eyes slitted open as his face contorted with pain. "Mmh, sort of." He looked around briefly. "Hospital?"

"Yeah, you lost a lot of blood," Dean told him, nodding to the IV that was distributing the last of the transfusion to Sam. "Nothing too bad besides that though. No internal bleeding, amazingly. Though…that may be because Cas was able to heal a couple things before his mojo gave out."

Sam blinked and frowned. "Where is Cas? Is he okay?"

Dean hesitated a moment. "I don't know. He's still out in the Impala. He took some pretty hard hits and he's been unconscious since we left. I couldn't really bring him in here."

Sam shook his head slightly and cleared his throat, wincing. "Thirsty."

Dean reached for a pitcher on the side table. "How about some ice chips?"

Sam sighed but it was all he was going to get so he allowed Dean to feed him a couple. Dean patiently waited for the first one to melt before offering another.

This was familiar, and yeah, as messed up as it sounded, almost comforting. Hospital rooms meant that a hunt, even one that had gone bad, was over. They had taken care of each other all their lives and going through the motions of patching up wounds or sitting beside hospital beds was second nature, it was something that brought them down from the horrors they might have witnessed beforehand.

But was it really over this time? Alastair was dead, yeah, that was something Dean was grateful about, but this revelation that he was the one who started the seals off being broken…who would be responsible for stopping the coming apocalypse in turn? It scared the crap out of him, because Dean knew that deep down, he didn't think he could do it. He wasn't strong enough. Sam and been right. Dean just couldn't do this kind of thing. It was too big! How the hell was one human supposed to stop something like the apocalypse?

The nurse came in, startling him out of his thoughts and checked Sam's vitals before she stopped the transfusion, leaving Sam with only the IV drip and gave him a dose of morphine. It always put Sam out like a baby, and Dean watched his brother's eyes droop as the nurse promised to come back in a little bit, and asked if Dean needed anything.

"Maybe just some coffee," he said, knowing there was no way he was going to sleep that night. Once she left, he turned back to Sam, stoking his hair, still crusty with sweat and blood, away from his face. Sam hummed slightly but he was already asleep, still looking painfully thin and pale, and all too much like a kid again. Some fragile kid that Dean needed to protect against everything. He knew that wasn't true anymore, that he wasn't allowed to think like that, but it was hard to remember that when his baby brother was lying in a hospital bed, hurt too badly to even stand on his own two feet.

The nurse came back with a large cup of coffee and Dean gratefully drank it, just letting the caffeine flow through his veins for a few moments. Then, feeling a little better, he grabbed some paper towels from the small bathroom attached to the room and began to clean the rest of the blood out of Sam's hair as well as he could without running water. Sam looked a little better when he had finished.

Then with sudden guilt, he called Bobby. The older hunter was pissed that he hadn't checked in but Dean knew it was because he had been worried, and Bobby's voice had gotten gentler eventually as the older hunter told him to let him know if there was anything he could do. Dean couldn't help but think how different that was from the couple of occasions he'd had to call his dad and tell him Sammy was in the hospital.

It was a long night alone with his thoughts, but Dean didn't know what else to do, and he certainly couldn't bring himself to leave Sam's side, even for a second.

He heard a footstep in the hallway and turned around, expecting to see a nurse, but instead was shocked to see Castiel. The angel stood in the doorway, of the room, watching the brothers with an unreadable expression.

"Cas," Dean said after a long second, noting the uncharacteristic slump of the angel's shoulders, how he listed slightly toward the doorjamb. "You okay?"

The angel shook himself and stepped into the room. "Yes, well, my grace is still getting back to full power but my wounds are healed."

Dean nodded, actually feeling relieved that Cas was okay.

"Do you…mind if I sit?" Cas asked hesitantly as if he weren't sure of the proper protocol.

"Yeah, of course," Dean said, figuring he must still be a little tired. Cas slumped rather heavily into the other chair beside Dean, confirming the hunter's suspicions.

"How is Sam?" Cas asked, looking the younger Winchester up and down.

"He'll be okay," Dean said. "They got some more blood into him."

"Dean, I'm sorry this happened," Cas said and he sounded genuine. Dean wasn't sure if it was because he was just getting more used to the angel or if it was that Cas was actually starting to show more emotions. "I will heal him as soon as I am able."

"It's not your fault, Cas," Dean replied automatically.

"I should have suspected Uriel was up to something. I did have fair warning," Cas looked off toward the wall as if contemplating something. "Whatever he and Alastair were truly planning to do with Sam though, I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that."

Dean swallowed hard and he was silent for a long time before he looked down at the half empty coffee cup that he held between his hands. "Cas…what Alastair said, about me breaking the First Seal. That was true, wasn't it?"

Cas exhaled slowly. "Yes."

Dean closed his eyes and felt a wave of helpless grief wash over him again.

"But Dean, you cannot blame yourself for that," Cas told him.

"Why not?" Dean demanded bitterly. "I did it, Cas, I started this whole mess!"

Cas shook his head. "You don't understand. The demons had it all planned out. It wasn't even supposed to be you, Dean. It was supposed to be your father. But he wouldn't break, and then he escaped out the devil's gate when you opened it so they had to think of another way. That's why you were offered only one year for your deal, that's why Lilith gave you to Alastair. Everyone breaks under Alastair—it was just a matter of time, and for the record, most of them don't even last a fraction of what you did."

Dean swallowed hard. "It doesn't really make me feel better."

"If anyone is to blame for what happened, Dean, it's me," the angel said bitterly.

Dean finally looked up at him. "What? Why?"

Cas focused on Sam's comatose form. "Because I was sent to get you out, and I was too late."

"You couldn't have known," Dean tried to reassure the angel, hearing the pain in his voice.

"Perhaps that is the truth," Cas said. "It was what I told myself when I found out that I had failed in saving the First Seal and you. But now…now I almost wonder if I was not sent earlier for that very reason. If what…if what Uriel says is true, if he was able to rebel and go unnoticed for so long, then maybe there are angels in the upper choirs that actually want to see the end of the world." He looked down at his hands. "Perhaps I was never meant to stop you getting off the rack in the first place."

Dean glanced over at the angel again, fear gripping his chest. "You can't be serious."

Cas met his eyes with a dark expression. "I am very serious. Dean, I…I don't know what's in store in the coming months. We are quickly losing the battle against the demons to stop the Seals from being broken. I am losing many of my brothers and sisters. But I want you to know that, no matter the outcome, I believe we should stand for what is the betterment of the world, of humanity."

Dean watched him as he spoke, seeing the sincerity in Cas. He hadn't seen that since the day they had talked in the park after stopping Samhain. Dean decided he liked this Cas a lot more than the stuck up dick who wanted to kill Anna just because she disobeyed.

"For the record, Dean, I never saw you as just a means to an end," Cas told him after a long moment. "You and your brother…the determination you have, that alone could be enough to stop this. But unlike the other angels, I see the true value of you working together, despite what they say about Sam and the demon blood. Uriel…he didn't see that." Cas sighed and slumped slightly. "I'm sorry for what he did. I should have suspected something, but I was blind, and I didn't think it was my place to question."

"I thought you were his superior," Dean said.

Cas looked up at him with a slightly wry expression. "There was a…change in rank recently. The angels felt that I had grown too close with the humans under my charge." He looked pointedly at Dean and shifted his gaze with a pained expression toward Sam's unconscious form. "They thought it would…compromise me, render me a liability on my mission."

"That's crap," Dean muttered and finally turned to look at the angel fully. "I uh, I should offer you an apology, and a thank you. I wouldn't have gotten out of there alive if it wasn't for you. I know you didn't have to help me save Sam, but…I was glad to have you there. And I hope you don't get in trouble for it."

Cas actually offered a small quirk of his mouth that was akin to a smile. "Well, it certainly wouldn't be the first time."

Dean raised his eyebrows, unable to help himself. Picturing the stoic and seemingly emotionless Castiel as a rebel was something Dean hadn't expected, but yet…he remembered Cas telling him he wasn't a hammer. For the first time, he had started to see that he had been right. Maybe he could get along with the angel after all.

Dean took a deep breath and then said, softly, hesitantly, "Cas, I don't…I don't think I can do it."

"Do what, Dean?" Cas asked, glancing back over at him.

Dean swallowed hard. "Stop it. I mean, come on, man, it's the freaking apocalypse. And I…I'm not strong enough to do it. Not anymore. Ever since I came back, I just haven't been the same. I just haven't felt…whole. Alastair broke me, he was right. I'm not strong like I used to be; I can barely keep myself together, how can I save the world when I can barely stand to get up in the morning?"

"Dean," Cas said firmly. "You don't have to do it alone, you know. Your brother will be at your side—despite whatever differences you may be going through, I think you know that is the truth. And you have Bobby Singer, a loyal friend. You think of him as family, do you not?" Dean nodded and Cas cocked his head to one side. "And I will also be there to offer guidance and assistance when I am able."

Dean tried not to allow the skeptical look to cross his face as Cas said that. The angel seemed to see it all the same. He slumped forward suddenly, leaning his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands and looked down at them. "I know you may not believe me, and I can't promise that things will not get difficult. Even I am not sure of all that will be asked of you; I am not privy to all of what is to come."

"Nothing good," Dean muttered, glancing again back at Sam's face, his throat aching as he thought of what they might have to endure in the days to come.

"Probably not," Cas said truthfully, and then turned back toward Dean finally, spearing him with his blue eyes. "But you know that all you need to do is pray to me, Dean, and I will be there."

Dean didn't know what to say to that. His throat started to close, and he had to look aside. "Thanks, Cas," he said. "And…I mean it, thanks for the help you've already given me. I Just want you to know that I don't think you're such a dick anymore—that's a compliment."

Castiel cocked his head to one side. "I…thank you."

Dean's mouth almost quirked up into a smile. "I don't know what changed, but just…don't change back, okay?"

Dean was actually surprised to see the sad look cross Cas' face as he said that. Dean got a slight nagging in his stomach, wondering why the angel would have that reaction to his comment but Cas was quick to cover it and ducked his head.

"I'll try my best," he said.

Dean glanced back at Sam's sleeping form then at the empty coffee cup in his hands. "I'm gonna go get us some coffee. Can you watch him until I come back?"

"Of course," Cas said. "But I don't require food or drink."

"I know," Dean shrugged. "But that's what you do when you have to sit in a hospital room and watch over someone. You sit and drink bad coffee in crappy chairs and wish you had alcohol instead."

"Oh, I see," Cas said, furrowing his brow slightly as if he were taking in actually useful information.

Dean rolled his eyes slightly as he got up, stretching his back out with a wince. He'd taken a few hits from Alastair and Uriel himself and sitting in an uncomfortable chair for hours hadn't done him any favors.

When he got back, nothing had changed. Cas hadn't moved, and Sam hadn't woken up. Dean handed Cas the second coffee as he took his seat again and the angel sipped it cautiously, narrowing his eyes.

"It is…bitter, rather acidic. Sort of tastes like paper," he mused.

Dean snorted. "That's hospital coffee for you. That's the worst part. Even the coffee sucks. Diner coffee is always the best. Someday I'll have to get you some. But it is an acquired taste."

Cas nodded slowly, eyeing the cup after another sip. "I rather like it."

Dean smirked. "Well, that's a start, I guess."

They were silent for a long time, Dean anxiously watching Sam for any signs of pain or discomfort. The doctor came in again and told him all Sam's vitals were normal and that he was doing well, but Dean still just wished that they could be back at Bobby's even though he knew the drive in Sam's condition would not be pleasant. He wasn't sure he wanted Cas to zap them there either. It had…unpleasant effects on the body at best, and Dean didn't want to risk trying it in Sam's condition.

Eventually, exhaustion and the trauma and lack of sleep the last several days won out and Dean passed out, head propped against the bed at Sam's shoulder, by some miracle—perhaps one performed by the angel sitting next to him—suffering no nightmares.

Castiel watched over the Winchesters as they slept, enjoying the quiet moment away from the turmoil of Heaven, the fight for the Seals. He knew he should be out there, he especially knew that he should report what had happened with Uriel, but for now he was going to do the other job he was charged with, watching over Dean Winchester.

Of course, Castiel also extended that to Sam, after all, it wasn't like he could choose. Besides he felt both of them were highly important and thought the other angels rather stupid to think otherwise.

And he needed time to heal. He could feel his grace coming back to power, but he would not leave until he was able to heal Sam Winchester.

"I thought I might find you here."

Castiel startled as he looked up and saw Anna standing in the doorway of the room. He started to stand up, reaching for his angel blade, but she held up her hands, only taking one step closer.

"I don't mean you any harm, Cas" she said. "Please, I just want a moment."

Castiel slumped in the chair, releasing the angel blade. "If the others knew I talked to you…"

"I know, they wouldn't be happy," Anna said bitterly. "But do you think they would be any happier to find you sitting here with the Winchesters after killing Uriel and stopping Alastair? You haven't even reported what happened yet."

Castiel looked at her suspiciously. "How do you know about that?"

Anna came further into the room, glancing between Sam and Dean with a pained expression on her face. "I was following Uriel. I had seen him go off on his own a lot. I would have warned you, Castiel, but I couldn't find a safe way to do it. I'm glad you were able to stop him, though…I see you got hurt in the process. I'm sorry I cannot heal you."

"I am fine now," Castiel assured her somewhat gruffly.

"Uriel wasn't the end of this," Anna told him. "You know that. You know there are more like him, more angels who want to see the apocalypse happen, no matter the outcome."

Castiel nodded slowly. "I know. And I plan to look into it."

Anna's face twisted into an emotion that Castiel couldn't quite read. She looked like she wanted to say one thing, but instead settled on, "Be careful, Castiel."

Castiel nodded, glancing toward the slumbering Winchesters again before he took a deep breath and said. "Anna, I…I have begun to question things. Uriel said something to me—that God was not giving the orders. Is that what you think?"

Anna gave a pained look but nodded her head. "I'm pretty sure that's the case, Castiel. I…if you had seen what I had back before I fell, I don't think you would have any doubt of that."

Castiel felt his throat tighten as he shook his head. "Then who…who is giving the orders?"

"I can't say," Anna said. "But be cautious who you trust." She cocked her head to one side then, studying him until he almost felt uncomfortable. "You've changed, Castiel."

"Perhaps I have," he admitted somewhat wryly.

Anna looked him straight in the eye. "Do not let them see that you are thinking of disobedience. You don't know…just don't, okay? Be safe, brother. And if you ever need help, don't hesitate to call."

Castiel opened his mouth to reply to her, but she was already gone with a soft waft of air displaced by her wings. Castiel glanced over at his human charges again, wondering exactly what the consequences of 'disobedience' were. Anna spoke as if from personal experience.

Still, Castiel was more concerned about doing what he felt was right.

No matter the cost.

Sam's dreams were filled with flashes of a blade cutting into him, the pain, the sound of his own screams, tinny to his ears. Alastair's sibilant hiss roped around inside his head, but it wasn't always the demon he saw in his dream.

Sometimes, it was Dean standing over him with the knife.

"No, stop," he pleaded. "Dean…"

It was then the dreams broke, and Sam felt a warmth infuse him, soothing the hurts he had suffered and making him feel completely at peace.

He blinked his eyes open, feeling groggy, but well rested. He instantly recognized he was in a hospital room but instead of Dean leaning over him it was Castiel.

Sam started for an instant, scared he might be dreaming and Uriel might be back to get him, but Castiel simply offered a small smile, and touched his shoulder so he wouldn't move.

"Easy. You are healed, but you may still be a little dizzy."

Sam took stock of his body then, fingers exploring his stomach where Alastair had taken a particular pleasure is digging a blade into his guts, and peeling the bandages off his wrists, which had bled profusely due to his struggling. There was nothing but smooth skin there now.

"Th-thanks," he said, voice slightly raw. He looked around and spotted Dean slumped against the side of his bed, head rested on his folded arms. Sam felt relief to see his brother there, and sleeping no less. He turned back to Castiel.

"Is he okay?' he asked quietly.

Castiel gave a wry look. "Dean will need some time to recover after facing Alastair again. But now that the demon is dead, perhaps it can help him move on."

Sam swallowed hard and nodded, listening to his brother's deep breaths—something he hadn't heard in a long time. Dean never slept that well anymore. He wondered if the angel had had something to do with that too.

"Sam, I am sorry for what happened," Castiel told him. "I'm sorry Uriel used me to get to you."

"I should have known it was a trap," Sam sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and starting to peel off the bandages he didn't need anymore. "I was just trying to keep Dean from having to do it—to face him again. But I just made it worse."

Castiel gave a wry look. "You meant well, Sam. That's all that matters. I know you and your brother would do anything for each other. He's going to need your support now."

Sam's face suddenly crumpled as he glanced at his brother again and looked back toward the angel with unshed tears in his eyes. "It's true, isn't it?" he whispered. "About Dean breaking the first seal?"

Castiel nodded, his expression pained. "Yes."

"He can't stop it," Sam choked out. "Not alone."

"He doesn't have to," Castiel replied. "He has you, after all."

"I don't know if I'm strong enough," Sam said in a small voice. Castiel reached out and touched his shoulder.

"I believe you are strong enough," he said truthfully. "And I think Dean is stronger than you or he himself give him credit for."

Sam watched his brother sleep again for a few seconds, then turned back to the angel. "Thank you, Castiel. For keeping him safe."

The angel gave a small smile. "I will do that as much as I am able, but considering everything I've already seen you two go through, I am thinking it might be a greater task than I originally anticipated."

Sam was surprised at the inkling of wry humor he caught in Cas' voice and wondered what had changed in the angel from the stoic, no-nonsense, aloof being he had first met. But he was distracted from that by Dean stirring at his shoulder, seeming to have finally registered that Sam was awake. Dean's head came up and he rubbed sleep from his eyes before blinking at seeing Sam sitting up and watching him. Sam smiled at his brother's surprised yet relieved expression.

"Sammy, you're awake! How're you feeling?"

"Good," Sam assured him. "Cas healed me."

Dean's eyes flicked toward the angel and a silent thank you passed between them before Dean inevitably started checking Sam over, just to make sure. Sam endured it, not minding much at all. He was still shaken from his time with Alastair, and these familiar motions, Dean's incessant mother-henning and all, were normal and something he needed just then.

"Dean, I'm fine," he finally said as the poking and prodding became incessant, though quietly so as not to upset his brother.

Dean met his eyes and swallowed hard. Sam felt an ache start in his chest. He knew they were both thinking the same thing. Of course he wasn't all right, not really. Nor was Dean. The wounds may be gone, but the trauma was still there, the horror, the things Alastair had told him. Cas couldn't heal that even if he had wanted to. And catching the look the angel was watching them with out of the corner of his eye, Sam could tell that the Cas wished he could do more than just heal the physical wounds.

Dean cleared his throat to end the tense moment. "Alright, well, if you're feeling better we need to blow this joint before they start looking for money, not to mention notice that your wounds have miraculously healed."

"Yeah, let's get out of here," Sam agreed.

Dean helped him from the bed, since he was still a little dizzy, and then handed him his bag so he could change. Once he was fully dressed again, Cas stepped forward and settled a hand on each of their shoulders. In another blink, they were standing outside in the parking lot beside the Impala.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief as he fished his keys out of his pocket. "Alright, I say we go back to Bobby's and rest for the next couple days." He glanced over at Cas. "You need a lift?"

The angel shook his head. "No, I am back to full power again. And I have many things that I need to see to." His mouth twisted wryly as he said it. "But remember, if you need me, all you have to do is pray."

Dean nodded. "All right, well, thanks again."

"It's no trouble, Dean," Cas told him firmly.

"And Cas," Dean added. "Stay safe."

The angel nodded once and then there was a displacement of air and he was gone. Sam blinked at the space Cas had been standing and then glanced over to his brother.

"Let's get out of here," Dean said.

The ride was quiet as they made their way toward Bobby's place. Dean didn't even have his music on. He was just staring out at the road ahead. Sam didn't really like his silence; it was hiding too many things.

"Dean," he finally said, his quiet voice even seeming too loud in the silence of the Impala. "You know it doesn't matter, right?"

"What doesn't matter?" Dean asked flatly.

Sam took a deep breath before continuing. "That you broke the First Seal. It doesn't matter to me, okay? I know if wasn't your fault."

"That doesn't really make it okay, Sammy."

"Maybe not, but even Cas doesn't blame you. And you heard Alastair, you were supposed to do it, you were forced into it. There was no way of knowing."

Dean was silent, jaw tight, hands gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles whitened.

"We're gonna get through this," Sam said. "We're gonna get through this together." He exhaled long and slow and looked down at the hands in his lap. "But first, I need to be honest with you about what's going on with me, with my…powers. But only if you share the favor, okay? Tell me how you're really doing because I think I deserve to know, Dean. You're my brother, and I would die for you. But I can't help you if you shut me out." He glanced over at Dean. "Deal?"

Dean took a long moment before he carefully pulled off to the side of the road and finally looked back at Sam and nodded once. "Okay. Deal."

So Sam braced himself and told Dean the truth about the demon blood, and then Dean told him how he really felt after coming back from Hell. By the time they were done, both had been angry, both had shed tears, but they were stronger for it too.

Maybe, hopefully, even strong enough to stop the coming apocalypse as long as they stuck together.