Disclaimer: All materials belong to their respectful owners. Any and all of the following written is completely, one-hundred percent, fan-written and I claim no profit for it what so ever.

Author's Note: Hi all! So I've had this chapter on the tip of my tongue for practically a week, if not longer. It just seems like there hasn't been a convenient moment to write it all down lately. Never the less, I have returned with a new chapter for you all!

I will just say that we are in fact nearing the end of the story very soon. I wouldn't expect there to be any more than 20 chapters, maybe a little less. At this point I'm not entirely sure how I plan to wrap things up, but it is formulating haha. Anyhow, please enjoy!

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Redemption

Upon reaching the run-down shack where Alastair was keeping Dean penned up, and previously Lauren, Sam, Bobby, and Valac had no real plan on what they were going to do next. Where Alastair was located, whether he was with Dean or not, was really the only dependant factor at this point. Sneaking around the side of the house, the trio paused by the small steps leading up to the entrance all pausing in a strange anticipation. Sam took a deep breath, pulling his pistol from inside of his jacket and checking to make sure it was fully loaded.

"Sam," Bobby said in a low voice, placing his hand gently on the younger hunter's forearm, "Just so ya know, Dean—he may not be the same guy once all this is said 'n done."

Sam swallowed hard, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Valac interjected, "Sam, you know the effects of demon blood. Even if Dean wasn't drinking it consciously before, it'll still have changed him."

"We just want ya to be prepared is all, son," Bobby nodded.

Sam said nothing at first, keeping his gaze focused on the ground as he nodded solemnly. Dean no longer being the same brother he remember... that was all just a little mind boggling for him. Dean was the best brother he could've ever asked for—the brother who'd even sold his own soul to bring Sam back. Sam knew there was no way that he could ever repay him, but that didn't stop him from trying. And in that moment the young hunter decided that if he could offer Dean just the slightest chance of redemption, he was going to do everything in his power to make it happen.

"Let's go," he simply said, cocking his gun and charging forward up the steps.

The hunter wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting once he entered the cottage, but seeing Alastair poised calmly in a chair before them certainly wasn't it. Just seeing the demon alive, after all this time—Sam felt the air escape his lungs in a sudden gasp that he, himself wasn't even prepared for.

"Hello Sam," Alastair greeted with milky white eyes, a hint of disgust lingering within his voice.

Sam looked as though he were about to speak, but to no avail. With a simple flick of his wrist, Alastair sent the young hunter slamming into one of the far walls delighted to see his colleagues in a deep state of shock from the resulting action. Alastair grinned deviously, a low rumble of laughter echoing across the room.

Valac gritted his teeth in the utmost aggravation, standing just behind Bobby. "I'm so not dealing with this shit," he muttered under his breath. Lurching forward, the demon plucked the colt from Bobby's hand which had been dangling at the hunter's side. Bobby looked stunned but did nothing to stop Valac as the demon spun forward onto the floor aiming the gun straight at Alastair.

From his years of experience, however, Alastair was much faster and had bolted from the chair just as the gun had been fired. Hammering into his shoulder, the bullet sparked a golden flame under the demon's skin but wasn't nearly enough to kill him. It did release Sam from the telepathic force that kept him pinned to the wall though, which was just the break the group had needed in order to continue on with their rescue. Sam let out a deep breath as he hit the floor, quickly scrambling to his feet and over to Alastair's position. The demon glared up at him viciously, but neither one dared to spoke. A loud crash from the other side of the room, however, gained the hunter's attention.

"Sam!" Bobby shouted, standing before a splintered door which led to the basement, "C'mon we don't have much time!"

Sam hesitated before finally turning away to follow the others down to the lower level. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he should've just ended Alastair there and then—for the second time. The stairs were old and creaky, so obviously the element of surprise wouldn't be a factor in the approaching of whoever it was who lay beneath. Once they had reached the bottom landing, Bobby twisted the door open and stepped forth.

From his view over the elder hunter's shoulder, Sam could see Dean wielding his shotgun ready to fire at any moment. "Watch out!" he shouted, shoving Bobby forward just as he heard the discharge from the shotgun not but a moment later. In that split second, Sam managed to crouch down himself ducking to safety.

Behind him, however, Valac did not seem quite as lucky—hearing the loud screech of the demon, Sam half-crawled to Valac's aid, watching the blood seep from the new wound at his side. Valac winced as Sam tried to move the material away, slapping the hunter's hand aside. "Leave it," he ordered, "Help Bobby."

Sam nodded, jumping up in which to do what he was told. Sprinting past Bobby, the young hunter attempted to take his brother on alone. "Heyya Sammy," Dean grinned sarcastically, tossing the shotgun.

"Dean," Sam pleaded, not wishing to use violence until he was sure it was absolutely necessary, "Come on man, it doesn't have to be like this."

Dean shook his head, "Don't try negotiating with me. You always were a shitty liar." And with that, he swung a punch in the direction of Sam's face.

Alright, so violence was necessary apparently.

Sam ducked out of the way of Dean's oncoming fist, catching sight of an imprisoned Castiel as he did so. He could see long scrapes running down the angel's chest, his once bright dress shirt practically soaked pink in blood. Taking this moment of distraction to his advantage, Dean sent another punch reeling in Sam's direction knocking his brother in the stomach. The younger hunter toppled over onto the ground, gasping in surprise.

From behind, Dean suddenly felt firm arms clasp around his torso glancing just over his shoulder to see Bobby out of the corner of his eye. He struggled in the older man's grip, attempting his best to break free. "It's no use boy," Bobby muttered, his voice somewhat strained, "What don't ya just come quietly and make things easier huh?"

At that, Dean opened his arms as wide and as hard as he could flinging the older hunter backwards. By this time, Sam was already on his feet grabbing his brother firmly by the shoulders and ramming him into one of the nearby walls. Dean struggled with Sam's grip upon his shirt, trying to pry his brother's fingers but it was no use. Sam delivered a punch to Dean's jaw line, resulting in Dean's head smashing back against the wall. Sam repeated this several times until he could see Dean's eyes rolling back in his head as unconsciousness was threatening to overtake him.

Sam felt awful about beating his brother like this, but it was obvious at this point that Alastair had poisoned Dean's mind so that the hunter no longer wanted to leave willingly. Still, Sam knew a few good days in Bobby's panic room would straighten him out and so that was their best bet. Watching as his brother's head drooped forward, Sam caught Dean and slowly lowered him onto the ground. Satisfied that he would no longer be a problem, for the time being at least, Sam turned in which to make sure Bobby was alright from his fall.

"You okay Bobby?" he asked breathlessly, worn out from the fight he'd just encountered.

Bobby nodded silently, accepting Sam's outstretched hand and stood up. "Looks like he could use some help," the other hunter pointed in the direction of the strung up angel.

Sam swallowed hard looking once more at the half-butchered Castiel. Walking slowly up to him, Sam gently placed a hand upon the angel's shoulder. "Cas," he murmured, "Cas, you okay?"

Castiel blinked vigorously, looking up dazedly at the hunter standing before him. "Sam," he said his voice raspy.

Sam's face brightened slightly, "It's okay Cas, we're gonna get you outta here man."

Castiel cleared his throat, "What about Dean? Is he safe?"

Sam glanced over his shoulder hesitantly, looking at Dean's unresponsive body slumped towards the corner of the other. Sam swallowed hard, "He'll be better once we get him back to Bobby's. Same with you." Castiel breathed a deep sigh of relief, allowing his eyelids to dip shut for the briefest of moments. Sam gently lifted his hands in attempts to loosen the restraints, turning to glance just over his shoulder, "Hey, can you give me a hand with these?"

Bobby was by Sam's side in an instant, carefully undoing the bindings which tightly secured the angel's wrists. Both hunters were so completely enveloped into their work that neither one noticed an eerily familiar figure creeping up from behind...

Sam jolted hearing a sudden thud, turning to look in amazement as Dean came crashing to the floor once again, Valac standing beside him bearing a crowbar in hand. "What the Hell did you do?" Sam gasped in surprise.

"I got your back," Valac muttered simply in reply, allowing the crowbar to fall limp at his side.

"Yeah, well this sure is gonna pose for a problem," Bobby observed suddenly, lifting his cap in which to scratch his head.

"What do you mean?" Valac frowned.

"There's just no way we're luggin' these two guys back up those stairs," Bobby shook his head, "Not in one trip anyway, not with just three of us."

Suddenly Castiel muttered something incoherent from the corner of the room where he still hung. Sam stepped slightly closer to the angel in which to hear him more clearly. "What'd you say Cas?" he muttered.

Castiel cleared his throat, "There's a, another way out."

"Another way out?" Sam echoed, "Where?"

Castiel pointed a finger weakly to the far corner of the room, "Behind that sh- shelf. It's hidden."

Sam and Bobby exchanged a hesitant glance, the two cautiously stepping towards the shadows in the direction Castiel had pointed in. Sam held his hand out in front of him, feeling all along the walls for the shelf which the angel had spoken of. Feeling his hand clash against a solid frame, the young hunter called out, "Hey over here, I think I got something."

Bobby appeared by Sam's side, checking all around the old rusty shelf for any indication of a secret exit. Feeling Sam beginning to tug, Bobby said, "Here, try shovin' it over this way."

Sam did as he was told, wincing ever slightly as the sound of the metal frame scraping against concrete sent chills up his spine. At last, upon moving the shelf out of the way, both Sam and Bobby could make out the slightest distinction of a door frame etched into the wall. "Valac, c'mere," Bobby cleared his throat, his eyes focused on the archway in deep thought, "Let me see that crowbar a minute."

Valac handed the crowbar to the elder hunter, watching as Bobby took a few light practice swings before smashing the tool forcefully into the wall. Pretty strong for an old guy, Valac thought to himself as both wooden and brick debris began to crumble, creating a hole.

It didn't take very long, with some slight assistance from Sam of course, for bits of the wall to be chipped away in a ragged outline of where a door might've once been. Then, slowly but surely, they managed to load everyone into Lillian's borrowed van and drive off. Valac, who sat in the passenger's seat, was just thankful they were able to get out before Alastair intervened.

Still, as Sam lingered in the back of the van with both Castiel and Dean, the hunter couldn't help but sing a slightly different tune. "We should've finished off Alastair when we had the chance," he shook his head.

"Not a chance," Valac retorted.

Sam looked as though he were about to speak when Castiel interjected dimly, "He has a point, Sam. Alastair is much stronger than before, more rejuvenated."

"We could've ended it right then and there," Sam insisted, slightly peeved that no one really seemed to see his point of view.

"Uh, he chucked you across the room son," Bobby called from the behind the steering wheel, "Gotta be at least a little thankful we didn't have to scrape ya off the walls or nothin'."

"We had the colt," Sam huffed in one last appeal.

"At least Dean is safe," Castiel said with a weak smile, "And I'm quite glad you were able to rescue me as well."

"Yeah," Sam nodded solemnly. The young hunter really didn't have much to say in return, as he had honestly almost forgotten to look on the brighter side of things. He just hoped the circumstance would prove to be more promising as time surged onward.

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Upon waking, Dean's eyes burned with a pain so intense he couldn't help but close them straight away thereafter. His throat felt as dry as a desert, his whole body gone limp with a certain achiness—a longing. Blinking vigorously, the hunter squinted at the bright light impaling his eyes from the ceiling. There was a certain shading to it, however. A devil's trap—he'd was in Bobby's panic room.

Sighing wearily, Dean tested the restraints which he was sure were holding him captive atop the piss pore excuse for a bed knowing full-well that they wouldn't be loose like he might've hoped. A slight shuffle to his right alerted the hunter's senses, causing Dean to turn his head in the direction of the disruption. Sam was leaning against the nearby desk, his arms folded snugly over his chest as he watched Dean watching him.

Dean was the first to speak, feeling the same anger and frustration beginning to build just as it had back in the basement of Alastair's shack. "Well, well, well," he muttered, his voice hoarse, "Talk about freaking déjà vu."

Sam dropped his eyes to the floor, guilt seeming to flood over his stance. "Come on man, you left us no choice," he retorted, his voice dimmed.

Dean let out a sarcastic scoff, "Right cause I'm the one solely at fault here?"

At this Sam's eyes locked with his brother's once more, a moment of tension so fierce that Sam felt like he might lose it—like he might just get right up in Dean's face, holler at him, tell him what an ass he was being, and all the Hell they'd been through just to find him. Only Sam didn't, he couldn't. Instead he simply sat there, his heart seemingly lodged in his throat at how his brother was hurting him.

But, of course, Sam had to wear the brave face. Couldn't very well allow his weakness to shine through, especially at a moment like this. When Dean was at his worst. Sam swallowed hard, "We're just trying to help you Dean. Ala—"

"Help me?" Dean interrupted him bitterly, "You wanna help me, fucking untie me Sam! Let me the Hell outta here!"

Sam was slightly taken aback at seeing Dean lunge off the bed at him so. The ferocity in his brother's eyes alone was enough to make him run for the hills, but he had to persevere. He had to fully understand what was going on inside Dean's head and how to help him. "You know I can't do that Dean," Sam shook his head slowly.

Dean leaned back against the mattress, staring blankly at the rotating fan above him. "Yeah I figured as much," he said, his voice barely grazing a whisper.

"You have to see it from my point of view though," Sam urged, coming a few steps closer to Dean's bed, "Dean, you've been in my shoes before. More than once, so you know exactly what I'm feeling here. Doesn't that change anything? Anything at all?"

For a moment Dean said nothing, and Sam wasn't entirely sure if he was planning to speak at all or just ignore him. But then the elder hunter turned his head to face his brother, the same icy stare still planted on his face. "You're right, it does change things," Dean admitted, and for a moment Sam felt hope, "I mean, now I literally am in your shoes. And let me tell you, I think I finally get why you did it."

Sam couldn't help but frown, leaning his head to one side in the utmost confusion. "Did it?" he questioned.

Dean chuckled somewhat, "The demon blood. Sammy, I can't blame you anymore man. I mean, the rush alone—"

"Dean," Sam interrupted, horrified, "No this, this isn't the way. That blood... it's just a temporary high. It's not gonna make you any better, just worse."

"Yeah, well it makes me feel a Hell of a lot better than I've felt in a long time," Dean spat back viciously.

Sam pinched the brim of his nose in desperation. "Dean listen to me, we're gonna detox you and everything's gonna be fine. Please, just trust me."

"Don't you get it?" Dean shook his head, a bewildered grin spreading across his lips, "It's not about physco powers or some bullshit. No Sam, I feel good. Powerful, like I'm on top of the world."

"And what happens when you come crashing down?" Sam challenged.

"Keep me in this room and you'll find out," Dean warned, his eyes becoming dark with rage, "But let me just tell you one thing—who I am right now, this person you don't even seem to recognize, this is who I've always been, deep down inside."

"I refuse to believe that," Sam said fiercely, feeling his heart constrict once more as emotion threatened to overtake him. Stepping backwards, the young hunter slinked near to the door.

"Refuse all you want, but that doesn't hide the truth. You've seen how I can be, cruel. Heartless. Hell changed me Sam, allowed me to become who I've always been," Dean continued, even as his brother made quickly for the exit, "I'm not denying it anymore, why should you?"

Sam glanced over his shoulder one last time before bolting the door securely behind him. Once outside the panic room chamber, Sam barely made it as far as the stairs before he collapsed onto one of the steps. Bringing his knees up in which to rest his arms upon, Sam cradled his head in his hands and tried desperately to ignore the sound of his brother's screams echoing through Bobby's basement. Tears flowed freely from his eyes now, rolling down his cheeks, but the hunter couldn't seem to care.

Sam just couldn't get Dean's words out of his head. What if he was right—what if Hell truly had transformed him? What if there had been a piece left behind? One Castiel couldn't have claimed, healed. And now, Alastair had rejoined it to Dean unleashing the monster that had seemingly always lain dormant in the bowels of Dean's soul. Sam shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. Of course that wasn't true, it couldn't be. It was just the demon blood, he kept telling himself that over and over again. Only this time the words didn't have the same effect they used to. He wasn't sure if he believed them any longer. They made sense, after all, but Sam knew from many past experiences that whatever was logical wasn't always the solution.

Wiping the dampness away from his cheeks, Sam arose swiftly and turned to continue walking up the stairs. He felt numb, frozen in time somehow, even as he willed his body to function climbing one step at a time. Reaching the top landing, Sam clung to the wall for support as he heard Dean cry out the one name he'd hoped could remain unspoken: "Alastair!"

The others turned from their positions gathered around Bobby's table to look upon the young hunter, their faces all seemingly racked with the same fear Sam bore himself. Up until now, Dean's cries had been mere gibberish—wails of pain and of frustration, but nothing so particular as the demon himself. Hearing the desperate plea, almost prayer, echo up the stairwell many times over, Sam couldn't help but close his eyes in attempts to shut Alastair's name out from his mind.

"Sam," the hunter heard a gentle voice call into his ear. Opening his eyes, he found Lauren looking at him, her eyes large and doe-like filled with both understanding and compassion. With a gentle raising of her arm, she rested her hand upon his shoulder squeezing it ever slightly in encouragement.

Only Sam couldn't accept her willingness to help, even as much as he wanted to. And so, brushing Lauren's hand off of him he sidestepped her and made his way to the kitchen in a persistent silence. No one else dared to speak, simply watching him until his sluggish steps lead him out of view. Bobby arose swiftly from where he'd been standing upon Sam's entrance and followed the boy into his kitchen.

Bobby could feel the same hurt tightness in his own chest as he spoke softly, "Sam—"

"Bobby don't," Sam cut the elder hunter off swiftly, holding his hand up in protest. Though Sam was facing the wall, Bobby could sense the agonized tension flowing over the young hunter's body Sam's muscles practically trembling with the amount of force it took for him to stand there in solemn composure.

"What'd he say?" Bobby asked, standing his ground, "Boy, look at me when I'm talkin' to ya."

Sam turned to face Bobby, unashamed as fresh tears spilled over the rim of his eyes. Bobby could feel his heart break at such a sight, but still stood firm as Sam's lips moved blankly as the young hunter sought out where to begin. "He's different Bobby," Sam managed to croak out, rubbing his jacket sleeve over his face in attempts to wipe the tears and snot away.

"Well that's to be expected," Bobby said slowly, uncertain of how exactly to provide any sort of comfort to Sam at this point, "I mean, you of all people should get that. Demon blood does strange things to a person."

"Did I ever call out Ruby's name?" Sam challenged, knowing fairly well already that he never had, "Or any other demon's for that matter?"

Bobby scratched his beard in deep though, mumbling under his breath, "Not exactly."

"That's my point," Sam continued, pacing the kitchen floor anxiously, "Dean said Hell had changed him. That he'd always knew it and, basically, I should just learn to deal with it."

"You gotta know that's crap," Bobby retorted quickly, taking a step closer to the younger hunter.

Sam looked at him hesitantly, "I really don't know Bobby."

"You shouldn't doubt your instincts, Sam," Castiel's voice suddenly echoed from the archway. Sam peered over Bobby's shoulder, watching as the injured angel made his way forth slowly—they had been able to bandage Castiel's chest up easily enough, his left arm in a sling due to a likely fracture somewhere in the wrist. Even so, despite the few scrapes and bruises scattered across his face, the angel stood tall his voice firm as he continued to encourage the hunter. "Alastair has corrupted Dean's mind before, that's how he was able to break your brother in Hell. It's his greatest strength," Castiel explained, "But also his greatest weakness."

"Meaning?" Bobby raised his eyebrow in question.

"Deception is the only real tool Alastair has to use against Dean. Once the demon is inside Dean's head, that's when his grip tightens. If that, how should I say, bond were to be severed," his voice trailed off, awaiting the hunters to pick up on his trail of thought.

"Then Alastair would have no power over Dean what so ever," Sam concluded, a look of clarity plastered upon his face.

"One light's out, they all go out," Bobby shook his head in comprehension, "So how do we go about settin' him straight? I take it you don't got any of that magic angel dust hidden up your sleeve by chance?"

The slightest of smiles flickered over Castiel's lips for an instant. "Sadly, no. I'm not quite the angel I used to be, and seeing as Dean is not in Hell this time around, we have ourselves at somewhat of a disadvantage," the angel murmured in response.

Sam's brow creased. "A disadvantage?" he questioned in confusion.

"When Dean was in Hell, it was simply a matter of retrieving his soul and rejoining it to his body. With some minor physical and psychological healing, of course. While that sounds like a great deal of effort, for an angel of my previous magnitude it truly isn't. Once Dean's soul was rescued, any connections with Alastair were immediately lost. Now that we're in the earthly realm, however, things do not remain quite so easy. I can no longer just piece your brother back together, Sam," Castiel explained, placing a hand lightly on the hunter's shoulder.

Sam swallowed hard at the emotion which was threatening to choke him once more. "What should we do then?" he asked, his eyes alight with the utmost desperation for a solution.

"Allow him to wade it out," Castiel said simply, "The only way to truly let Dean win this battle is to allow him to wrestle with his greatest enemy—right now, himself. Detoxing him that panic room is the best course of action I can see at this time."

Just then, Lauren appeared in the archway leading into the kitchen. "So, does this mean Dean'll be okay?" she asked hesitantly. After all both Dean and Sam had practically saved her life, not to mention her mother's too.

Bobby just glanced briefly at Sam before turning to face Lauren. "That's what we're hopin' for," he nodded at last.

Lauren smiled faintly, digging her hands into the back pockets of her pants. Castiel cleared his throat, "If it's alright with you, I'd like to see him."

Sam looked flabbergasted, "Cas—"

"Ya sure you wanna talk to him so soon?" Bobby interrupted somewhat hastily sensing the tension rising in Sam's voice, "I mean after, well, ya'll have been through and that."

"He freakin' tortured you!" Sam exclaimed, taking a step closure to the angel.

Castiel didn't seem necessarily upset at the hunters' initial reactions, but stood his ground firm. "As much as I do appreciate both of your concerns," Castiel began, tilting his head to the side almost matter of factly, "With all due respect, what I encountered with Dean in Alastair's basement can be no more bothersome than simply talking to him here."

Sam opened his mouth as though to object, when Bobby spoke up. "I'll escort ya down," the elder hunter said.

"But Bobby," Sam insisted.

"My house, my rules son," Bobby declared simply, placing a hand gently on Sam's shoulder.

"Thank you Bobby, but no escort is necessary," Castiel murmured quietly, opening the doors which lead down below. Before a word of protest could be spoken, Castiel promptly shut the door behind him and made his way down the dark slope of stairs.

"He sure is persistent," Lauren commended, resuming her seat at the kitchen table across from Valac.

"No, he just knows what he has to do and isn't afraid to do it," he said, lightly drumming his fingers on the tabletop. And then, the demon continued on to say something no one was expecting, "There's no one I admire more."

Castiel stood outside the panic room door, debating his entry for a brief moment. The angel swallowed hard, reaching for the iron handle when suddenly Dean's voice rang out from within. "Though you were just gonna stand there all day," the hunter called.

Castiel cleared his throat, still lingering in the archway despite Dean's obvious knowledge of his presence. "I wasn't sure I'd be welcome," Castiel retorted, being sure to keep his voice as monotone and indifferent as possible.

"Ah c'mon, I don't bite," Dean half-chuckled sarcastically, "Not unless you want me to." Castiel said nothing in reply as he entered the panic room, simply contemplating Dean's phrase as he watched the hunter tightly restrained on the bed before him. "Like what you see?" Dean waggled his eyebrows in suggestion.

Castiel furrowed his gaze at Dean's wrists, red and raw, his frown depending at the nearly constant lack of focus in Dean's clouded eyes. "Dean," the angel said, his voice barely grazing a whisper, "Why do you hurt yourself?"

Dean seemed confused for a moment, until catching Castiel's line of sight on his wrists. "Oh, just a flesh wound there Cas," the hunter shrugged carelessly as he continued to try and wriggle free of his bindings. Striding without hesitation, Castiel was quickly by Dean's bedside laying his hands desperately on the hunter's wrists in which to make him stop rubbing them against the restraints. Dean jerked away from Castiel, but still the angel persisted looking deep into the hunter's eyes. "Leave it be, it doesn't hurt," Dean insisted, his voice a low rumbling growl.

Castiel licked his lips delicately, "Let me ask you this then: Why do you hurt your brother so?"

At this Dean's expression fell from its playful seduction to a sudden serious and threatening gaze. "Sam made his choice a long time ago with Ruby," the hunter retorted sharply, his voice dangerously low, "Now I'm doing the same. What's the difference?"

"The difference is," Castiel spoke softly as he shuffled slightly closer to the hunter, "You're going against everything you stand for Dean. All the reasons you told Sam the demon blood was wrong, how it's all bound to end badly—if you truly believed a single word you said to him, you'd stop what you're doing now. Before it's too late."

Dean seemed to contemplate Castiel's words for a moment, leaning his face closer to the angel's until the two were just mere inches from each other. "Maybe you're right," Dean murmured, his breath steamy against Castiel's cheek, "But maybe not." With a sudden twist of his arm, Dean's left arm somehow managed to slip free from the one cuff which had been restraining him. Without a moment of hesitation, the hunter had his arm around Castiel's neck and a pocket knife held to the angel's throat. Dean cleared his throat, calling into the lengthy darkness, "Sam! Think you better come down here!"

Castiel never took his eyes from Dean's face.

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A/N: So again, sorry I didn't get this out as early as I would've liked. However, I do have an unexpected break in my classes next week so hopefully I'll be able to get so more stuff posted during that time. Meanwhile, thanks for reading!

Reviews are really awesome too... just saying ;)