Okay, guys, here's some much needed comfort and healing :) I hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much for following this story! Your feedback has been great ^_^

Chapter Eleven

Repairs

The ride back was quiet. And a bit tense, though not as bad as the one there, obviously. Mainly it was just hard for Dean to hear the barely concealed gasps and moans of pain from the backseat every time he hit a rough patch of road. He glanced back as Mom handed water bottles to the two invalids, and didn't like what he saw. Cas was sitting awkwardly in the seat so that his back didn't touch anything, and Sam was slumped against the window, shivering even though sweat was pouring from him. He'd sipped at the water, but was apparently too nauseous to really drink anything, so he was just pressing it against his cheek. Dean pushed Baby a little harder. He'd just passed the sign that said Lebanon was in forty miles. He hoped they could hang on until then.

"Okay, give me the lowdown," he said, forcing his voice to be businesslike. "What kind of repair work are we gonna have to do?"

Sam groaned, but Cas answered for him. "We…accidently found a way to clean Sam's body of demon blood. Quicker than letting him sweat it out through a withdrawal stage."

Dean looked back at Cas in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised. "Oh yeah?"

"Demon blood?" Mom asked quietly, brow furrowed.

Dean glanced at her and shook his head slightly. She bit her lip and looked out the window. Dean's stomach roiled as he thought about the necessity of having that conversation with her later.

"So how do we do it?" he asked.

"Angel blood," Sam whispered.

Dean's eyes widened and he turned around to stare at Cas. "That true?"

Cas nodded tiredly. "Yes. It was Ketch's idea of torture, but it actually had some benefits to it."

Dean's hands gripped the wheel until his knuckles were white. He wasn't gonna thank that bastard any time soon, but if Cas was right, this was welcome knowledge. He felt a bit of the weight lift from his shoulders as he realized he wasn't going to have to watch his brother suffer through the withdrawal again.

They all breathed a sigh of relief as they pulled toward the bunker and Dean drove into the garage, parking Baby in her usual spot. She had taken a few hits during the rescue mission and he would have to come work on her later, but he knew she wouldn't mind him taking care of his brothers first. Still, his hand stroked her steering wheel lightly as he got out and hurried around to Sam's side.

He was already trying to open the door, but Dean did it for him since his hands were shaking so much, he could barely get a grip on anything.

"Alright, up you come," Dean coaxed and slipped an arm behind Sam's back, practically pulling his sasquatch body from the car. Sam's right leg gave out and he grunted, leaning heavily against Dean.

"You hurt?" Dean asked.

"Just bruised I think," Sam murmured. "Cramped up during the ride."

Dean urged him toward the stairs, glancing back at Mom who was offering Cas a steady hand. "You good, Cas?"

"Yes, take care of Sam first," he insisted.

Dean didn't argue this time. It was obvious that his brother was fading fast and the sooner they got the demon blood out of his system the better.

He got Sam to his room and sat him on the bed. Sam cringed and pulled at the t-shirt he was wearing. "Get me some new clothes. I don't want to smell that place on me anymore," he pleaded.

Dean obliged and helped Sam into his sleep clothes before practically pushing him into bed and pulling a light blanket over his shuddering frame. He ran a hand through Sam's hair, his palm lingering on his forehead as he gauged the fever Sam was running.

Mom and Cas came in soon after, and Cas was carrying an empty syringe. He sat stiffly on the side of Sam's bed and Dean watched as he placed a hand gently on Sam's shoulder.

"Sam, are you ready?" he asked.

Sam nodded jerkily. "Let's get it over with."

Cas stuck the needle in a vein and drew some of his own blood, before turning to Sam. The hunter offered his arm, and Cas pressed to find a vein and gave Sam the injection.

"That it?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Cas replied and watched anxiously until Sam suddenly cried out, curling tighter into himself.

Dean surged forward. "Sam? What's wrong?"

"Dean, this is how it is," Cas told him grimly. "It's not an easy treatment, but it doesn't last nearly as long as waiting for it to burn out of him. Plus it will insure that every trace of demon blood will be gone at the end."

Dean swallowed hard, hating the sight of agony written across his brother's face, but Sam had agreed to this, knowing what it was like, so he knew it had been the right call.

"So we just wait it out?" he asked.

Cas nodded. "Yes. With any luck it will be over within ten to twelve hours."

That still seemed like an eternity, but Dean nodded. "Okay then, I guess we see to your wing."

Cas looked down. "It will heal on its own eventually."

"Hell no," Dean said and reached out to pull open the coat that Cas was wearing, revealing the cut on his chest that was still bleeding through the hastily applied gauze patches. "Even this hasn't healed. I'm not gonna leave you with a busted wing without doing something about it. Doesn't it hurt?"

Cas shifted his shoulders and barely concealed the wince. "It's not as bad on the ethereal plane."

"Well, you look like crap, and like you're in agony," Dean told him firmly, getting a warning look from Mom. "Remember how we talked about hiding wounds before?"

"Cas, we just want to make sure you're okay," she said softly. "There's no reason for you to suffer through this if we can help."

He ducked his head, hands clenching in his lap. "If…with my grace so low I will have to heal them on the physical plane." He looked up at Dean with an emotion the hunter couldn't quite read.

"So?" he inquired, not really seeing the issue Cas seemed to be.

"So, it will mean that I can't leave the bunker or aid on hunts until they're healed," Cas said.

Dean's jaw tightened, finally seeing where Cas was coming from. "Come on, man, I thought we got past that 'you're a burden' crap. Whatever Ketch or those other dickbags said to you back there was a lie. You know better than that. Heck, you can air your wings out here any time you want to; it's your house too. You're entitled."

Cas looked up at him, mouth twisted. "You don't…think it's weird?"

"That you have giant feathery wings?" Dean asked with a frown. "No. In fact, I think they're pretty damn awesome. I mean, yeah, it might take some getting used to seeing them out of the corner of my eye, but you're still you, Cas, feathered or not."

Cas smiled slightly, seeming to relax a bit. "Okay then. But I should probably manifest them in the library where there's more room."

Dean glanced toward Sam in his fitful state, and wondered whether he should leave him or not. He glanced at Mom who was sitting on the other side of the bed, pressing a wet washcloth to Sam's forehead.

"I'm gonna need help setting Cas' wing," he told her.

Mom nodded. "Sam should be fine for a few minutes, right? I'll go help grab the first aid stuff."

Dean led Cas into the library where the angel shrugged out of Dean's coat, and gingerly sank into a chair. Dean cleaned and stitched the long surgical cut in his chest first, feeling his skin crawl again just at the thought of it, and then once he had taped fresh gauze over it, he took a deep breath.

"Okay, let's get your wings taken care of."

Cas shifted so that he was sitting backwards on the chair and squeezed his eyes closed in concentration. A sharp gasp escaped his throat as his wings shimmered into existence again, filling a large portion of the room.

"Wow," Dean said, unable to help himself. Mom seemed likewise awed. It was different seeing Cas's wings here, especially now that they weren't trying to get the hell out of dodge.

"Cas, they're beautiful," Mom told him sincerely.

Cas gave a self-deprecating grunt. "Well, they're hardly what they once were, but I appreciate your sentiment."

Mom smiled, approaching his good wing before stopping. "May I?"

Cas nodded and she gently touched some of the crooked feathers, attempting to smooth them back into order. Cas twitched but didn't seem to mind the ministration.

"Do you think we could straighten some of these out?" she asked, surveying the damage. "Would that be less painful?"

Cas shrugged but nodded. "Yes…it's hard for me to reach them. Typically, angels will care for each others' wings, but..."

Dean raised an eyebrow at this interesting tidbit. He cleared his throat. "Well, uh, all you had to do was ask, Cas. I mean, I know we're not angels, but we can still straighten a few feathers, can't we?"

Cas looked down at the floor. "I just didn't think…"

"What, Cas?" Dean coaxed.

Cas sighed. "I thought you might think it strange if I just introduced my wings to you. Sometimes I feel like you forget I'm not actually human, and with my wings in a physical state, well… You are very set in your ways, you know." His voice held a hint of fond exasperation.

Mom smiled at that, glancing at Dean who gave Cas an indignant look. "We're not that bad."

Cas stared at him balefully and Dean snorted.

"Well, whatever, from now on, free wing grooming whenever you need it. Right now though, let's get this bone set."

With Mom's help, Dean carefully straightened Cas' injured wing, propping it up on the table. He searched for the break, feeling through the feathers until he found the spot. He didn't know much about bird—or, well, angel—anatomy, but he thought that a bird's wings were formed very similar to a human arm bone, so using that as his guide, he could figure out how to set it.

"Okay," Dean breathed out, and nodded to his mother as she took up position, bracing the wing above the break. "On three. One…"

He yanked swiftly and Cas gave an agonized cry, clutching the chair he was sitting in so hard it creaked, threatening to break.

"You're good, it's over."

"That was not on three," Cas accused, breathing heavily.

Dean smirked. "Trust me, it's better when you don't know. Anticipation's the worst part."

Cas grumbled. Dean fashioned a splint with his mom's help and, taking a moment to look online, found that binding a wing in a resting position was typically how vets and wildlife rescue places did it for birds. He figured it would be okay for Cas too.

But first Dean and his mother each took a wing, and began to smooth the feathers out, putting them back in order, and trying as well as they could to repair the ragged hooks and barbs on them.

Dean swallowed hard as his fingers carded through a section where the feathers almost looked burned at the edges, some only half there, and glanced over at the sparse patches where there weren't any feathers at all.

"Cas, did they do all of this to you?" he asked after a while.

Cas stiffened, but shook his head. "No, Ketch only broke my wing and damaged some feathers. I—most of this is because of my weakened grace. And the burns…they were caused by Hellfire."

Hellfire. Dean felt his stomach flip at that. Knowing these must have been scars Cas got while rescuing him from Hell, maybe rescuing Sam too.

"I didn't know," he said softly.

"I didn't tell you," Cas said and narrowed his eyes at the hunter. "I don't regret it, Dean."

Dean wasn't sure how to reply to that. Instead he just coaxed more of Cas' feathers back into place. The angel sat there quietly, eyes half closed as if lulled by the ministrations, and by the time Dean and his mom had done as much as they could, Cas looked like he was about ready to nod off.

"Okay, time to get your wing in a sling," Dean told him, and grabbed some ace wrap from the kit.

It was a bit hard to get the wing into position without the splits rubbing painfully anywhere, but eventually Dean found the right angle and strapped Cas' wing up in a way that could let it heal and not cause Cas any more pain.

"Thank you," he said as Dean finished and helped him stand. Cas seemed a little unbalanced, but Dean thought it was probably just because he couldn't use his injured wing to steady himself.

"Are you good?" Mom asked, touching his shoulder.

Cas nodded. "Yes, I think I'll be okay."

"Great," Dean said. "Why don't you go rest, and I'll fix you something to eat?"

Cas nodded and went back to the dormitory wing with Mom as she returned to Sam's room.

Dean went to the kitchen and heated some canned soup on the stove—tomato rice—and fried up a couple grilled cheese sandwiches. He took one tray to Mom, and then grabbed another for Cas.

He found his friend sitting on the bed having changed into sweat pants, and was currently carefully taking a pair of scissors to a t-shirt.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, setting the tray next to him.

"Making wing holes," Cas said simply, holding the shirt up for inspection before looking at Dean. "Can you help get it over my injured wing?"

"Okay," Dean replied skeptically. "This is probably one of the weirdest things I've ever done." He spent the next minute or so struggling to get the shirt over Cas' wing and head and his arms in the right holes, all while trying not to injure his wing further. But eventually Cas got his homemade wing shirt on and tugged it into place, shifting his wings to check the space, seeming pleased.

"Thank you," he replied and turned to the tray. "I did this while I was captured. I think the scientists were surprised that I could come up with something so human."

Dean caught the bitterness in Cas' voice, and swallowed hard, pulling the chair from the desk over to the side of the bed. "You uh…you wanna talk about it at all?" he asked quietly. "Because you know that whatever they said, whatever they tried to make you believe, wasn't true. No matter how inhuman they thought you were, you're still just as human to Sam and I as you always were—well, after you stopped being a dick anyway."

Cas narrowed his eyes, but shook his head. "They were just…cold, indifferent. I tried not to let it bother me. I understood that they think I cannot have human emotions and thoughts because I am an angel. But I was angrier at how they treated Sam who is human. How could they think he was a monster?"

Dean shook his head, hands clenching into fists. "Because they're blind bastards who can't see past their cemented perception of things. And I know, I was like that too, once upon a time, but the people—human and otherwise—who I have met over the years have taught me that things aren't always black and white. I mean, some of the best friends I've ever had weren't human."

Cas smiled. "Not all hunters are like the Men of Letters. Some are more open to different possibilities."

"Well, good riddance to them," Dean said firmly, remembering Ketch's screams as the creatures he had captured ripped him apart, and still not feeling bad about it. "Hopefully they won't be back."

"I think you were convincing enough," Cas said wryly.

"Yeah probably," Dean stood and patted Cas on the knee. "You should eat and get some rest. I'm gonna go check on Sammy."

He got up to leave and was halfway to the door when Cas called, "Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Thank you. For…being understanding. It's nice to know I have a family to turn to when I need assistance."

Dean smiled and nodded. "Same here, Cas."

He left the room, grabbed some food for himself, and then headed toward Sam's room to join his mom.

She was still sitting by the bed, grabbing bites of food between cooling Sam's forehead. Dean's brow furrowed in worry as he saw how bad Sam still looked, but Cas had seemed to think this was normal, so he would trust the angel that Sam would be okay.

"Here, Mom, I'll look after him while you eat," Dean told his mother as she took several bites of her soup.

She smiled. "I'm not that out of practice. Though last time I was taking care of sick boys, you two were small enough to rock on my lap."

Dean smirked as he took a seat beside her. "Yeah, don't think you want to try that now."

"How's Cas?"

"I think he'll be okay," Dean told her sincerely. "I think they both will be. They've been through hell, but…we all have before and survived, we'll get through this too."

Mom was silent for a long moment before she inhaled slightly and turned to Dean. "About the demon blood…I don't want to pry, but…"

"No, you should know," Dean said and with a sigh, he told his mom all about the demon blood and Ruby—well, some of it. He told her the gist, but left most of the more painful details out, the ones Dean didn't want to remember anyway.

Still, there were tears in Mom's eyes when he had finished, and she reached out to brush Sam's hair away from his face.

"You boys have been through so much," she whispered. "Suffered so much. And the demon blood…you said it was Yellow-Eyes? So, really it's my fault…"

Dean shook his head and reached out to grip his mom's hand tightly in his. "Mom, neither Sam nor I blame you for that, okay? Remember how I told you about traveling back in time? I saw what happened, and I know you were only doing what you did to save Dad. Hell, Sam and I have nearly broken the world a few times to save each other. That's what Winchesters do."

Mom shook her head with a wry smile. "I suppose it is. But you are my children, and I still started that ball rolling."

"One way or another, our destinies were slated from the beginning," Dean told her. "But we've gotten past that. I mean, it's never easy, not with our lives, but we've been better recently. And we have you back now."

Mom smiled at him and reached out to stroke his cheek. Dean leaned into her palm with a small exhale and closed his eyes.

"Why don't you catch a few hours of sleep, Dean?" Mom asked. "You've hardly slept the whole time we were looking for them. I'll wake you in a couple hours and you can take a shift."

Dean wanted to protest, but was honestly too tired to do so. He stood up, grabbing their empty dishes and just barely biting back a yawn. "Alright. But let me know if he wakes up before then."

He dropped the dishes off in the kitchen sink and went back to the dormitory ward. He peeked into Cas' room and saw the angel lying on the bed, tucked under his own wings and sleeping so deeply he was snoring quietly. Dean shook his head, snuck in to retrieve his dishes as well and then closed the door quietly so as not to disturb him. Cas had looked like he really needed the rest.

And Dean, well, he did too. Pretty much as soon as he had laid down in his bed and hit the pillow he was fast asleep, comforted by the fact that his family was safe and sound and together again, and there didn't seem to be any more imminent threats.

Things were starting to look up again.

Castiel watched Sam as he settled over the last couple hours he had been taking his turn looking after him. It had been nearly fifteen hours now, but Sam was getting better, even though the amount of demon blood in his veins had made it harder to shake than the last time. But finally it looked like he might be waking up soon.

Castiel shifted his splinted wing into a more comfortable position. He was still getting used to having his wings on the physical plane. It felt different here in the bunker where he could be comfortable and was not under threat of having his wings violated like at the Men of Letters compound. He still shuddered when he remembered their hands on him, especially Ketch's, could still feel the sickening snap of his bone across Ketch's knee.

But Dean and Mary's caring ministrations had gone a long way to erasing those bad memories. In fact their careful, if a little clumsy, grooming had taken a lot of the ache of bent feathers away and it was really just his broken bone that hurt for the most part now. He'd also been very touched by Dean's offer to help him out in the future if his wings needed more care. At this point, he wouldn't trust anyone but the Winchesters to do something like that. He even thought he might take up Dean's offer for 'airing' his wings out on occasion. It could get cramped keeping them on the ethereal plane for so long, and he so missed feeling the wind through them…

Sam moaned slightly and stirred in the bed, turning onto his side. Castiel leaned forward, trying to see whether he was waking up or not.

Sam's eyes were fluttering and he made an uncomfortable noise as he shifted.

"Sam?" Castiel asked quietly.

The younger Winchester's eyes fluttered open and he inhaled sharply. Looking around. Castiel reached out and touched his arm.

"It's okay, Sam, we're back in the bunker, remember?"

Sam relaxed then, and collapsed heavily into the pillows.

"Yeah, I remember."

Castiel smiled. "How are you?"

Sam hummed thoughtfully. "Tired, sore. But I think the demon blood is gone." He looked up at the angel, eyes flicking over his wings. "You?"

"I'm good," Castiel replied. "Dean and your mother helped splint my wing. I'll have to heal it in its physical state."

Sam smiled slightly. "Glad you're alright."

As if he had some inner big brother alarm—and Castiel wasn't sure he didn't—Dean came into the room then and gave a relieved smile as he saw Sam awake.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, coming over to the bed and pressing the back of his hand to Sam's forehead. "Fever's gone—how you doing?"

Sam half-heartedly swatted his hand away and groaned as he tried to sit up. "I'll be okay now. The demon blood is gone."

"Good," Dean replied. "Now you need to get something in your stomach, and you're probably extremely dehydrated."

Sam groaned again, finally managing to sit up, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, but first, shower."

Dean nodded in agreement. "Okay, first shower. I'll make up some bacon and eggs while you're in there."

"Hey, Dean," Sam called before Dean could turn to leave.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

Castiel noticed Sam looking down at his lap, hands clenched together as if he were trying to think of what to say. Finally he looked up.

"Dean, I just…I wanted to tell you, and Cas too, that…maybe I shouldn't hunt for a while. At least not demons. I'm not sure if I'll be tempted or whatever, but I'd rather not…"

"Sam," Dean cut in sharply and came to sit on the edge of the bed, facing his brother. "I don't want to hear any of that from you. You didn't choose what they did to you, I know you fought it, I know you're not gonna fall off the wagon again. You haven't all these years."

"But that's because I was clean," Sam protested, gripping the blanket in his fists restlessly. "What if this triggers again? What if I'm no better than before…."

"Stop," Dean said and reached out to grip his wrist firmly. "I have faith in you. I know you're not going to be tempted. You're stronger than that now."

Castiel nodded in agreement. "Even if you are tempted, you will be able to fight it. I watched you fight it, remember?"

"You also watched me fail," Sam said in a soft voice, eyes guilty and wet. Castiel squeezed his shoulder.

"But only when you had no other choice. Until then you didn't let it rule you, and when you chose to save me that way, I know it was your choice, not the blood taking over—it was simply the only weapon you had at that moment. I could tell, Sam. You have no need to worry."

Sam took a shuddering breath. "Okay. If you believe in me, then I guess I can manage to do the same."

"Damn right," Dean said, and squeezed Sam's shoulder tightly. "Now go take your shower, bitch."

"Sure, jerk," Sam said with a small smile.

Castiel watched them fondly as he stood, leaving Sam to take his shower while he followed Dean to the kitchen to see if he could help out with breakfast.

Their troubles might not all be over, but at least they would always have each other. And after all, it was the ties that bind family together that matter most at the end of the day.

The End

Stay tuned for a one shot to be posted on Monday!

Next Friday I will be posting the first chapter of my next story "Katabasis" a very dark and angsty Season 7 AU with much Cas whump because I can't be stopped. So come stop by and check that out!