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Chapter Eight

Sam woke slowly, drifting out of unconsciousness with the brief regret that he was even waking up at all. But the sound of snoring by his head was keeping him from drifting back into sleep and he had to open his eyes to investigate.

As he suspected, it was Dean, sitting precariously in a chair by his bed. His top half was slumped against the mattress, with his head resting on his folded arm, while one hand covered Sam's, keeping up a constant physical contact, even in slumber. Despite the snoring, Sam felt a sudden relief that his brother was not only okay, but there when he woke up, leaving him in no doubt as to where he was and who he was with.

He shifted and a moan slipped out as his body protested, the constant fever ache that accompanied his detox still there, but not nearly as bad as the previous night. He knew it would still probably be a couple weeks before he was completely clean, thanks to this new setback, but he knew he could get there, and he wouldn't stop until he did.

Dean started awake at Sam's movement and jerked upright, blinking blearily, and reaching up to wipe the drool from his face. "Hey," he said gruffly.

"Hey," Sam muttered with a small smile.

"You okay?" Dean asked as Sam began to pull himself up to sit against the pillows.

"Well, I'm better," Sam said with a shrug.

Dean gave him a critical once over, seemed to see that was the best he was going to get, and shrugged. "Well, that's something at least."

Sam winced as he straightened and ran a hand through his hair. "How's Cas? Is he okay?"

Dean swallowed hard. "Yeah, um, he's still asleep as far as I know. Anna was able to heal the lash marks last night. But um…she said he's falling, man. That eventually, they'll both be essentially human."

Sam's eyes widened at Dean's words. Is that what happened to fallen angels? He knew Anna had turned human when she cut out her grace, but now that she had it back, what would become of it? Would her and Cas' grace fade away, burning out for their sins? Sam felt sick at the thought.

"So what do we do?" he asked helplessly.

"At the moment?" Dean asked in a businesslike manner. "We get you and Cas better, and we get back into the fight. Because we are gonna win this thing. We're not gonna let the angels have their way, not if they want the end of the world as we know it. That just ain't gonna happen on my watch."

Sam saw the determination in his brother's eyes and was glad of it. For the first time in a long time, he could see an inkling of the old Dean back. Maybe Hell hadn't completely changed him after all.

"You know I'm with you," Sam offered sincerely.

"Good." Dean clapped a hand on Sam's knee and then stood. "Why don't you grab a shower and then come down for breakfast? You need to get your strength back."

Sam sighed, but his stomach gurgled and he realized that he was starving, unable to remember the last time he had eaten. At least that was a good sign. Maybe he was finally getting his appetite back.

Dean made eggs and bacon and Sam sat at the table in the kitchen with a mug of coffee, feeling the warmth of it leech into his hands. He wasn't cold, still a little fevered, in fact, but there was a comfort, a normality, to it.

"Grub's up," Dean said, setting a plate down in front of him.

Sam eagerly took up his fork and dug in.

Dean was just about to sit down with his own when Anna came into the room.

"Hey," Dean said, hovering between standing or sitting. "You uh, want some?"

Anna shook her head. "I'm fine." She sat at the table with them and turned to Sam. "You're looking better."

"Thanks," Sam said a bit self-consciously. "I do feel a little better. How's Cas doing?"

"He's still resting for the moment," Anna said. "But I will have to see to his wings before long. I may need your help," she glanced toward Dean and he nodded, though Sam saw the nervousness in his brother's face. He could understand. He had seen what had happened to Cas first hand and it hadn't been pretty.

"Let me know what you need me to do," Dean told her.

Bobby walked in then to refill his coffee cup. "Well, good news is that it doesn't seem like the apocalypse has started overnight. I put out a heads up to all the other hunters I know to keep an eye out for anything weird, or, well, weirder than normal." He splashed a bit of whisky into his cup. "Now we just have to figure out how to stay under the angel's radar and stop this damn thing."

"The warding here in good," Anna assured him. "As for stopping the apocalypse, we'll have to give that more thought. I will admit that I have not been entirely in the loop lately. But I suppose few of the angels have."

Sam bit his lip, staring down at his half eaten breakfast, suddenly not so hungry anymore. "But if we're meant to start it, what if we stay hidden?"

Anna shook her head. "They would find another way or they would certainly find leverage that would draw you out. Either way, we have to actively try. Because they will not stop so easily. Trust me."

Dean nodded. "And we will. Together."

Sam just hoped they would be enough.

Castiel drifted out of unconsciousness. It was always an odd sensation to be pulled back to wakefulness. Since he didn't really have practice sleeping, he always associated this feeling with being injured, the slow restart of a wounded body, being pulled back to the land of the living. Sometimes, he thought he would like to drift for a little longer.

He did a swift check of his body to see how his wounds were healing. His back where the lash had dug into him was completely healed—obviously he'd had help there. The cuts he'd been dealt were all scabbed over and his head was thankfully healing from Zachariah's invasive interrogation technique. It wasn't pounding anymore. It was really only the burns that would take time; holy fire burns always healed slowly. Those and his wing.

Castiel shuddered at the zings of pain he felt through his grace from his currently incorporeal wing. He knew that in his vessel he would have to manifest it physically to heal it, and it would be agonizing.

He wondered where the others were. He vaguely recalled that they were in Bobby Singer's house so they should be safe there, but he needed to make sure that the Winchesters and Anna were okay.

With some difficulty, he pushed aside the blanket that had been laid over him, still sluggish, then rolled to swing his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as his burns protested.

His feet touched the floor and he realized his mistake when his legs wobbled so much they could hardly take his weight. He grabbed the nightstand and instinctively threw his wings out for balance, but the agony that tore through his injured one completely ruined his ability to stand and he collapsed to his hands and knees with a muffled cry.

Footsteps sounded outside the door and there was a hesitant knock before it opened. "Cas?" Dean's voice.

"I'm fine," Castiel grunted in frustration. Annoyed at how weak he was right now.

Dean was around the bed and crouching beside him in another second. "You sure, because you're on the floor, dude."

Castiel grunted again, but allowed Dean to grip him under the arm and help him to sit back on the bed. "It was just a misjudgment. My legs were apparently not ready to be out of bed yet."

Dean looked like he was trying to smother a chuckle, and shook his head. "Well, you took some pretty hard hits. Anna healed your back last night though."

"I can tell." Castiel said.

"You uh, hungry or thirsty?" Dean asked suddenly.

Castiel narrowed his eyes, watching Dean curiously. The hunter seemed like he was avoiding something. "I do not require food or drink."

"Right," Dean said, rubbing a hand over his head. "Um, anyway, I should go tell Anna you're awake. She wanted to help you with your wing."

Castiel's stomach tightened at the idea of more pain, but he nodded. "Yes, it has to be done. You can tell her I'm ready."

Dean hesitated slightly, looking like he wanted to say something else, but simply cleared his throat and hurried from the room. Castiel shook his head. Sometimes humans were very confusing.

Dean returned soon with Anna and Sam. Castiel was glad to see the younger brother on his feet. He could tell Sam still had the demon blood in his system, but he could also tell that the young man was fighting it. It shouldn't be too much longer before he was completely healthy again.

Anna came over to the side of the bed and settled a hand on Castiel's shoulder.

"I'm sorry we have to do this, brother, but…"

"It has to be done," Castiel said for her.

She nodded and he resigned himself to the pain that would follow. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, reaching for his wings before he pulled them onto the mortal plane. He gasped and clenched his hands into the side of the mattress. Anna gripped his shoulders to keep him upright.

"It's okay, just breathe," she told him.

Castiel gritted his teeth, but he felt the agony settling back to a dull ache. He shifted so he could lay down on his stomach, giving Anna better access. He gripped one of the pillows from the bed, and tried to concentrate on anything other than what was about to happen.

Dean cursed. "So, what can we do to help?"

Anna sighed, her breath wavering. "I need someone to hold his wing steady. I'll have to pull some of these broken feathers—sorry Cas."

"Do what you have to," he grunted.

Dean came around the bed near Castiel's head, seeming to study Castiel's injured wing with an overwhelmed look. "Where do I…?"

"Here," Anna instructed him on where to grip and Castiel felt Dean's hesitant hands descend on his wing. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he tried to push away the thought of Josiah's hands on him. This was just Dean, he could feel the human's tortured but righteous soul through his grace and knew they were just trying to help him.

"Hold on," Sam said suddenly and there was a clink of metal before something was held up in front of his face. Castiel opened his eyes and saw it was Sam's belt, folded it two.

"Put it between your teeth," the younger man said. "Trust me."

Castiel hesitantly shoved the leather between his teeth and grimly thought that he was probably going to bite through the belt entirely by the time this was over.

"Okay, I'm going to start," Anna told him, settling her hand against his back below his wings. "I'll be as quick as possible."

Castiel nodded and squeezed his eyes shut again.

Anna pulled the first feather, and he couldn't help but flinch. Dean lost his grip at the sudden jerk of his wing and Castiel almost clipped him in the chin.

"Hold him, Dean!" Anna commanded.

Dean gripped Castiel's wing more firmly and the angel could feel the regret seeping through him, but he knew the hunter also realized what needed to be done.

Another feather was pulled free and Castiel couldn't help a cry of pain past the belt in his mouth. He bit down harder. The next one, a large primary, came from a part of his wing that had already been damaged with Hellfire, the scar tissue extremely sensitive. He screamed at the pain, and was only barely able to keep his true voice from coming through. He felt both Dean and Anna's hands trembling.

Then there was a dip in the bed and he forced his eyes open to see Sam sitting beside his head. The young man held out his hands. "Here. Just hold on."

Castiel couldn't protest with the belt clenched between his teeth so he just reached out and clasped Sam's offered hands in his.

Over all, it took twenty about minutes in total, but it was all complete agony and felt like a lot longer than that. By the time Anna had finished and done a preliminary healing, as much as she could for the moment, everyone was exhausted, Castiel most of all. He slumped onto the bed heavily, letting the belt slip from his mouth and releasing Sam's probably aching hands. His wings limply hung off either side of the bed.

"Now what?" Dean asked, his voice tight. Castiel glanced up at his face and saw he was pale, sick looking. "Is there anything…?"

"I've done all I can, for now," Anna said to both him and Castiel. And she had done quite a bit. It wasn't healed, but already his wing hurt a lot less, and Castiel knew he would be able to heal the rest within the next couple days.

"Thank you," he said softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over hers. "You've done enough, sister." Anna touched his back between his wings gently, soothingly, a sad smile finding its way to her lips.

He was surprised then to find her fingers moving to skim through his uninjured wing in a familiar comforting gesture. "Cas, your wings are a mess," she tsked. "You obviously haven't groomed them since after you—"

"I haven't had the time," Castiel cut in quickly, not wanting her to mention Hell with Dean in the room, not wanting him to know that was why his wings looked the way they did. Why they were scarred with Hellfire. "Nor many chances to go back to Heaven." Though, in truth, he simply hadn't asked for help grooming, because he hadn't wanted the other angels to see the damage to his wings. Zachariah had been the first one to see them since he'd been to Hell and he had mocked his scars just as Castiel thought most of the other angels would.

"Well, you'll have to let me help you take care of them from now on," Anna said.

Castiel tilted his head to glance over his shoulder at her. "Only if you'll let me return the favor. I'm sure yours aren't any better off."

Anna shrugged her shoulders as if her wings were indeed slightly uncomfortable. "When you recover," she said.

"I'm gonna go make some coffee," Dean said, glancing down at Castiel. "You rest up, you hear?"

"I don't think I'll be doing much else today," Castiel replied blandly. Dean shrugged and turned toward the door. Sam went to follow him, but Castiel called out before the younger Winchester left the room. "Sam can I talk to you for a moment?"

Sam furrowed his brow but he came back in and sat on the bed, careful of Castiel's wing. "Sure."

"I'm sorry for what Zachariah did to you, I wish I could have warned you and Dean before—"

"Cas," Sam cut in, reaching out to settle a hand on the angel's forearm. The sudden contact was strange, but not unwelcome. "You can't blame yourself for getting captured. And now that we do know what we're up against, well, we can try our best to make sure the apocalypse doesn't get started to begin with."

"I'm not sure it will be that easy," Castiel said darkly.

"No," Anna added. "But we must do what we can all the same. After all, we don't really have a wide margin for failure."

"Exactly," Sam said. "Which is why we'll do what we have to or die trying. Dean and I are both ready for that outcome if it comes to it."

Castiel felt a surge of respect for these men, boys really, who were willing to stand, vastly outnumbered, at the end of all things. He realized then that if they were to die in this fight, then he would only hope that he could join them.

"I do truly believe that if anyone could accomplish something like stopping the apocalypse, it would be you and your brother," Castiel said truthfully.

Sam smiled then, his eyes somewhat wet. "Cas, I just…I just wanted to say thank you."

"For what?" Castiel asked, frowning.

"For believing in me," Sam said, swallowing hard. "It hasn't…been easy to beat this addiction, but it's helped knowing that I have people who believe I can."

Castiel smiled then, and tentatively clasped the young man's hand. "You will beat it, Sam, and when you do, you'll be even stronger in the end."

Sam smiled wider then and ducked his head. "Thanks, Cas," he said again and stood up. "I'll leave you to rest now."

Castiel settled back against the bed, feeling heavy, but also a lot more comfortable, the pain in his body starting to ebb. His wing would heal and if he was really lucky, he would be able to fly again before long. Well, before he completely lost the ability to even use his wings. But he wouldn't think of that right now. He had made his choice and he didn't regret it, even if he had fallen. Right now, Anna's gentle fingers running through his feathers was soothing, and brought back many comforting memories.

"You really think they can do it?" Anna asked.

"Yes," Castiel replied without hesitation. "I do."

"Then so do I," Anna said.

Castiel closed his eyes as she continued her ministrations and drifted off into a recharging sleep again, knowing he should enjoy the calm while it lasted.

Dean quietly opened Cas' door later that afternoon to check on the angel. He was surprised to see him sitting up in bed, his wings once again invisible, reading a book he must have pulled from one of Bobby's shelves.

The angel looked up as the door opened. "Hello, Dean."

"Hey, um, just wanted to see if you were doing okay," Dean said, hanging in the doorway, hesitant. He knew there were things he needed to say to Cas, but at the same time, he didn't really want to bring up painful subjects while the angel was still recovering. It was sort of important, though…

He took a deep breath and came further into the room. Screw it; it was the end of the world, better not to waste time with worrying about difficult conversations. He needed to sack up. "Hey Cas, can I talk to you?"

"Of course," Cas replied, brow furrowed as he set the book side.

Dean bit his lip and moved around the bed to sit in the chair Anna had stayed the night in. "Look, I just wanted to say how sorry I am. Anna, she explained what—what falling really meant, and how you two are—will be—human eventually."

He saw Cas shift slightly at that.

"Dean, I already told you it wasn't your fault," Cas told him. "I chose this path, fully aware of the consequences. I actually count myself lucky that I am still alive and still have my own mind so that I can further aid you in your mission."

Dean repressed a shudder, remembering the mind hacking device that Sam had said Zach had tried to use on Cas. He supposed it could be worse than falling or whatever.

"I know, but Sam and I…we have a terrible track record. People who help us, who fall in with us…well, typically, it ends bloody."

The angel just stared at him blandly. "You don't think I'm ready to die for this cause?"

"I know you are, I know all of us are," Dean shrugged, swallowing down the sudden lump in his throat. "I just…I hate that that's where we always end up. Loosing people we care about."

Cas shifted so that he was sitting up more. "Dean, perhaps you shouldn't think of it as loosing people you care about so much as the fact that you are lucky enough to have people around you who would die for you."

Dean looked down at his hands, clenched together and resting between his knees.

They sat in silence for a long time, until it was getting too awkward for Dean and he took a deep breath. "Cas, remember how I said I didn't think I was strong enough for this?"

The angel cocked his head to one side as he studied the hunter. "Yes, I remember."

Dean wet his lips, looking down at his hands again. "Well, I'm still not sure I am; I certainly don't buy into all the crap that I alone can stop the apocalypse, but I kind of came to the conclusion that maybe that's the point. And now, knowing the truth, I just feel like…what the hell am I gonna do? How the hell can we ever be enough?"

He heard the angel inhale, pausing for a long moment before he spoke. "Do you remember what I told you? About the power of family and having people who believe in you?"

Dean snorted. "Yeah, and it can be great for morale, but it's no firepower."

"And fire power is exactly what Lucifer is going to be expecting," Cas said. "I do not believe this war is going to be won by epic deeds, Dean. I think it will be the small things, believing in the things that keep people…human. Neither Michael nor Lucifer ever understood that, they never took enough time to try, and so they will never understand the pure strength that you humans can show when everything you love is threatened."

Dean stared at the angel for a long moment, his words ringing true. "How did you do it?" Dean asked.

"Do what?"

"Fall?" Dean replied quietly. "How did you have the courage to…take that leap? No pun intended."

Cas furrowed his brow. "Well, I didn't really have a choice in this case, but as I said before, I do not regret it."

"Exactly," Dean coaxed. "You just…did it. Not caring about the repercussions, not even checking to make sure there was something to catch you on the other side."

Cas gave him a meaningful look. "Is that not how you felt when you sold your soul for Sam?"

Dean opened his mouth and then stopped. Yeah, okay, the angel had a point there. "Well, yeah, if you put it that way."

Cas smiled slightly, knowing he had gotten his point across.

"It all depends on how much you're willing to risk for what you believe in," the angel said. "And I believe in humanity, especially you and your brother. I believe that you will succeed in stopping the apocalypse, and I vow to be there by your side when you do it."

"Well, I'm not sure I share your belief, but I'm gonna do my best," Dean said and bit his lip before he turned back to the angel, clearing his throat.

"And I just want you to know, Cas, that you have a place here with us," Dean told him. "In case you were wondering."

Cas smiled slightly. "It is much appreciated, Dean."

Dean swallowed down an emotional lump in his throat and cleared his throat again. "Okay then. I guess we'll make this official, so…welcome to Team Free Will."

Castiel cocked his head to the side. "Team Free Will?"

Dean shrugged, somewhat self-consciously. "Yeah, you know, defying destiny and all that. I figure we break the rules, tear up the script, and do it our way. And if we die, hell, at least we tried. What else have we got to lose?"

Castiel studied him for a long moment before he nodded. "I like that."

"Good," Dean said, standing up. "Because now we've gotta figure out a way to stop the apocalypse."

But for the first time in a long while, Dean felt confident that they might actually have a chance at this. Especially if they all stuck together.

After all, they were a team. And even more importantly, they were the team was the going to save the world.

I have a one shot for my Being Human series that I will post this Friday, so keep an eye out for that :) It will be a nice spot of humor after this angsty piece.