Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

* * *

For half a day, Dean had been searching frantically for his brother. He had no clues and no theories. He didn’t know who or what, and why, or even how. Sam was just… gone. He was there when Dean left and wasn’t when he came back, and he was gone for thirty minutes, tops.

There was hardly any sign of struggle in their motel room, but there was enough of one that sent Dean’s instincts alight the moment he entered the room. Namely, Sam’s cell phone was on the floor and his laptop was wide open. Sam wouldn’t leave his cell, and he’d shut his laptop if he was going to leave.

Nobody heard or saw anything, and the camera footage didn’t have an angle of their door, not that Dean wouldn’t have seen his brother walk across the screen to cross the parking lot. If he had gone out the bathroom window, Sam would have gotten into contact with him by now.

All that Dean knew for sure was that Sam needed him, that his little brother was in trouble, and that he was relying on Dean to track him down and make whoever was responsible pay.

But he was grasping at straws.

He needed help.

The first person he thought of was Bobby, but no offense to the old hunter if Dean couldn’t find Sam, how could Bobby? The same especially went for Ellen and Ash. And he and Sam weren't even on a hunt. And even if this was a hunt, he wasn’t going to wait around for another missing person to clue him into what creature took his brother. It might be too late by then!

Dean Winchester doesn’t pray. He really doesn’t. His ‘prayers’ came out to be threats to the universe, like he damn better be alive, or Sam, you better hang on until I find you. So he really didn't pray, he didn’t believe in God or angels, until well… he met an angel of God.

He knew an angel and that angel will know where Sam is, he damn well better know where Sam is because he will stab that son of a bitch again if he doesn’t.

But the next question was how do you summon an angel? When Castiel got in contact with him he either found Dean himself or showed up in his dreams. Now people pray to angels to contact them, but Dean doesn’t pray.

“Cas,” he growled, then looked around. “Come on, Cas, I’m not going to sleep so you can just show up in my dream, you damn creep.” Dean shut his eyes because most people close their eyes when they pray, don't they? “Come on, I… I need your help, Castiel! I… I’m praying, aren’t I?” He groaned in frustratation. Was he supposed to put his hands together? Get on his knees?

But when he opened his eyes, Castiel was in front of him, looking perplexed. “Did you… ask me if you were praying correctly? And I can sense how… reproachful you are about it, it’s… concerning.”

Dean scowled at him. “Shove your concerns. I need your help.”

“Yes, I heard. What do you want?”

“Sam, he’s missing and I can’t—I can’t find him. You can, can’t you? You’re an angel, so that must mean you can find him. So where is he?”

Cas looked unamused. “You called me to find your brother?”

“Yes, something took him, and it didn’t leave a damn trace. But I know something did.”

“They did leave a trace, can you not smell it?”

“Smell what? What is it?”

“Sulfur.”

“Demons.”

“Yes.”

Dean took out the demon knife from his pocket. “Where is he? Where do they have him?”

The angel closed his eyes. “On the edge of town, west of here, there is an abandoned… mental hospital, I believe you would call it. Your brother is there, along with… eight demons.”

Dean marched to the door. “Alright, let’s go, then.”

Cas frowned. “I have to… join you?”

“Of course you do, what kind of question is that? There's eight demons, I got only one magic knife and no backup. What, you want to yank my ass out of Hell again? Was it that fun for you?”

The angel didn’t dignify him with an answer, merely reached out and poked his forehead with two fingers, then with a swoop, and a mild stumble on Dean’s part, they were outside the mental hospital. “What the hell,” Dean huffed. “Did you just… fly us? Is that what just happened?”

“Yes,” Castiel said blandly. He grabbed the door handle and pulled but it didn’t open.

“It’s locked, of course,” Dean stated unnecessarily. “And do you not see the chains on the door?”

Cas sighed, then the next yank had the chain breaking and the door practically ripped from the hinges.

“Damn, Cas, tell me how you really feel.” He was earned a stony glare. “Bet, they’re in the basement, the creeps are always in the basement,” he muttered, looking around to see if there was a map of the place, there’s usually a map.

“Well, look who finally showed up. I thought we’d have to send his body in a bag.”

Dean whirled on the voice. “Where is he?”

“Hmm, somewhere around here. Good thing too, he’s a complete basket case. His next stop was, uh, where was it? Either electro- or lobotomy.”

“You son of a bitch.” Dean started for the demon but jolted back when suddenly the demon screamed as a bright light launched out of its eyes. When Dean uncovered his own, he found the demon on the ground, eyes melted. Just like Pamela.

He looked over to the angel, who was already staring at him. “He’s this way,” Castiel stated, moving down the hall. Dean gave one last glance at the demon before following.

“What the hell was that?”

“I smote him.”

“Right,” Dean said. Because angels smite. He felt a bit redundant here, as Castiel just smote the crap out of any demon they encountered. Which it didn’t matter, none of that mattered, the only that mattered was—

Dean heard his brother yell, he sprints past Cas and calls out to his brother to tell him he was here now. “Sammy!”

“Dean!”

He shoved the door open and his eyes immediately fell on Sam. He sat in the middle of the room, his wrists bound to the armrests and his ankles to the hind legs of the chair. But most importantly he was bleeding. The demonic sons of bitches had worked him over. They had tortured his little brother.

The lone demon in the room yanked his head back and put a blade to Sam’s neck.

“One step,” the demon sneered, “and you’ll have to sell your soul again.”

Dean gripped the knife, out of all the demons they encountered he wanted to gut this one. He wanted the son of a bitch where Sam was sitting and he wanted to work it over as he’d done to the souls in Hell.

“Let’s see if big brother will answer the question,” the demon bitch hissed in Sam’s ear. Sam winced as the knife bit into his skin. “Now, how did you—” he began to ask but froze. Dean knew Castiel finally caught up to him. “W-what? N-no, it’s impossible.”

He’s mine, Dean told the angel, not out loud, but he knew the angel heard him as Cas looked at him. You switch them. Put that black-eyed son of a bitch where Sam is and you keep him there. I’m gonna take my time. I’m gonna make him regret touching Sam. I’m gonna—

Castiel raised a hand and with a flash of light, the demon crumbled to the ground, eyes melted.

Dean whirled on the angel. “I said he was mine!” Castiel looked at him knowingly, Dean just continued to scowl at him.

“D-Dean,” Sam whimpered.

The anger was forgotten as the hunter rushed over to his little brother. “Sammy. Oh, God, Sam.” He cut the ropes with the knife. Sam hissed as he peeled them from his wrists. “Fuck, are you okay? Are you okay, Sammy?”

Sam’s head jerked into a nod. “Th-they cut into—into my wrist before the rope was…”

“I know,” Dean said simply, assessing him, he was in a good amount of pain right now. Sam shuddered. “It’s okay, it’s okay, Sammy. I got you. I got you, little brother. You're safe now.”

Sam huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Knew you’d find me.”

“Didn’t leave me a lot to go on though.”

“Y-yeah, I know. They came out of nowhere. But I knew you’d find me anyway.”

“Come on, get you back to the motel and patch you up.”

Sam hissed out a breath. “Everything hurts.”

“I’ll give you the good painkillers.”

“Right now would be preferable. Who’s your friend?”

“My—” Dean looked over his shoulder, but then his head jerked up. Castiel was standing at his side now. He touched his fingers to Sam’s temple and suddenly Sam was healed. Cas healed him. Dean wanted to slap himself because Cas is a fucking angel, of course, he can heal people too. He literally fixed his body up after hellhounds tore his guts out and he laid four months in the ground. Of fucking course Cas can fix Sam up, no problem. “Thanks, Cas,” he says.

Sam sighed, eyes closed in bliss. “Dean?” he slurred.

“Yeah?”

“Either… I just died, or you gave me the good drugs which kicked in quick, or that guy is a miracle worker.”

“Close, angel.”

Sam’s eyes opened. “What?”

“That’s Cas.”

“The angel, oh, my god, er, uh, sorry!” Sam shot to his feet, then swayed.

“Woah, woah, blood loss, Sam!” Dean reminded his brother as he steadied him.

“N-no, no, just lightheaded,” he said.

“You lost a lot of blood, Sam.”

“I, uh, I don’t think that’s why—I haven’t eaten since this morning, then, uh, yeah, lost a lot of blood, but—”

“O-okay, well then before you go all fangirl, let's get you back to the motel, get you something to drink and eat. Finally have lunch, uh, well, dinner.”

Castiel understood that as his cue to return the brothers back to their motel as they didn’t have a vehicle. Dean was quick to cart his brother into the bathroom with fresh clothes and put a call in for takeout.

Seeing as Dean didn’t require anything else of him, Castiel took his leave.

* * *

Castiel wasn’t sure what caused him to check back in on the brothers Winchester—no, on Dean. Just Dean. The only Winchester that mattered. But he found himself returning to the motel.

The room was dark, except for the shine of the laptop on Dean’s lap. The older Winchester was on his bed, leaning back against the headboard. Suddenly Dean spun the laptop around and shined it over him.

“Hello, Dean,” he greeted.

The hunter huffed. “Quiet when you want to be. I heard you touching down this time. What do you want?”

Castiel cocked his head. “Why aren’t you—” he started, but at the smallest sound from Sam, Dean was rolling out of bed and at his brother’s side.

“Hey, hey, Sammy, come on, wake up, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Castiel realizes that Dean, although tired, was watching over his brother as he slept. He joined Dean at Sam’s side, and like earlier he pressed his fingers to the boy’s forehead. Sam’s body relaxes. “He will sleep until morning.”

“No nightmares?”

“No.”

Dean sighed. “I… Are you sure? He’s nightmares-prone, so are you sure your angel mojo will keep up with his head?”

“Yes, Dean, no matter how prone a man is to nightmares, I'm quite certain my ‘angel mojo’ will keep up.”

The hunter observed his brother. “I, uh, I’ll just stay up a little longer to make sure.”

“Dean, he will sleep peacefully until morning. I’ll watch over him just to make sure, so you should rest too.”

Dean took another long look at Sam, before sighing as he ran a hand down his face. “This isn’t the first, hell it won’t be the last time I have to pull an all-nighter, but… okay. Just… just this one time. You better make sure he doesn’t have any nightmares, and especially with what happened today.”

Castiel tilted his head. “It wasn’t of himself.”

“Huh?”

The angel shook his head. “Nothing. Rest.”

Dean reluctantly moved to his bed, he shut the laptop and slid it onto the bedside table before flopping face down. “Just this once,” he muttered.

Castiel studied the younger brother, he was a curiosity. He heard many things from his brethren about the boy. And taking those into consideration, he honestly suspected that the boy with the demon blood would burn if Castiel touched him with his grace, much like any demon would, but Sam had looked… soothed when he healed him. And just a moment ago too, Sam had relaxed into his grace.

And although Dean was certain Sam was having nightmares about what had been done to him, that wasn’t necessarily the case at all. Sam’s nightmare was about Dean; how Dean was the one being hurt—tortured by demons and torn apart by hellhounds, and Sam was a spectator to it. No matter how he fought to help his brother. No matter how he threatened or begged he was trapped, pinned to the wall and unable to save his big brother.

The angels were aware of the bond between the Winchester brothers. It was believed that Sam’s was more put on. And because of the mark on Dean, Cas was highly conscious of Dean’s emotions, so he knew starkly how the man cared for Sam, and how far the man would go for Sam.

And perhaps because Castiel’s curiosity got the better of him, he touched a bit deeper than he might have to ease the man’s dreams, so he too was aware of how Sam cared for his older brother, how far he too would go for Dean. Sam admired and respected Dean and would follow him to Hell and back, and have switched places with Dean if it meant his brother wasn’t suffering.

It wasn’t to say the boy wasn’t what the angels claimed and prophesied him to be; he did have demon blood, he was having secret affairs with a demon, and his intentions were still too unknown.

But there was also more to him than the angels were aware of too. Castiel is certain Sam isn’t wholly evil as they suspected, this man could be redeemed.

There were so many questions Castiel had, but he pushed them aside. He had a mission he needed to concentrate on.

* * *

Sam sighed before his eyes opened. He looked over to his brother first, before his eyes found Castiel. He launched up to a sit, “Castiel?!”

The angel wasn’t certain what to say, so he nodded respectfully at him.

“Er, uh, I—th-thank you for, um, yesterday—healing me, that was, uh, much appreciated. As well as helping Dean find me, and having his back. A-and…” he looked over at his brother’s sleeping form. “And for bringing him back—saving him from Hell.”

Castiel tilted his head in bafflement. He was only doing what was required of him when he pulled Dean from the pit, and although ‘having Dean’s back,’ as well as healing Sam, and watching over them while they slept wasn’t exactly required directly, he was told to ‘get on Dean’s good side’, which concluded him to do those things.

“You are welcome,” he says instead. The angel narrowed his eyes at the younger Winchester. “I am confused, however.”

“Huh? About what?”

“Why were those demons torturing you? It doesn’t make sense.”

Sam grimaced. “Demons torturing people doesn’t make sense?”

“No, not people. You. You are prophesied to lead them, they must know this, yet they were torturing you?”

Sam frowned. “I’m not their leader, and I’m not going to lead them. We’re not even on the same side. Why would I side with demons?”

“Because you are their blood kin.”

The boy flinches. “I—I—It’s not like I had a choice!” he hissed. “I was just a baby! If I could take it out I would! I didn’t—I’m not—”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I… I apologize. You just… you’re different from what I was told.”

Sam hung his head. “I understand that, I do, but just because I have this—this evil thing inside me doesn’t mean I’m… that I don’t try to be good,” he whispered.

Castiel didn’t know what to say.

The boy lifted his head to meekly meet his eyes. “Is there a way to take it out?”

“The… demon blood?”

“Yeah. There has to be a way to take it out… right?”

“I… I’m not sure. I haven’t heard of such a thing, although, there was no such thing as you before either.”

His statement caused the man to wince. “Can—can you help me? I-I know it’s a lot to ask, we basically just met and I’m asking for a huge favor, b-but can you look for anything to help me take it out? I-I mean you’d probably have better luck finding something than I can, since you—you’re an angel and you, um, probably have access to more extensive knowledge than I could even dream of. S-sorry, I’m rambling, sorry, I’m just—just—”

“It—it’s fine, Sam. I will help you. I will ask my brothers and sisters, as well as search through Heaven’s athenaeum.”

Sam gave a shaky sigh. “Th-thank you, Castiel, I-I owe you, big time. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, then cocked his head. “But I don’t know how a mere human could possibly help me with anything.”

Sam huffed a laugh. “Uh, well, I guess, I’ll just owe you my life, then. Do you need anything specific?”

Castiel couldn’t possibly think of anything he would ask of Sam Winchester. Then the boy saved him from Alistair and questioned him for the angels with his demonic powers when he was told not to use them. He convinced his brother to stay in Heaven longer to find Joshua, despite the disappointing message they ended with, and Sam even went as far as to help him when he lost control of the souls from purgatory even after he broke his wall and drove him insane.

And so many more times Sam offered his help and guidance, even though Castiel couldn’t find anything on how to take the demon taint from his blood.

* * *

Chapter Text

* * *

“I probably don’t have to ask but… anything hurt?”

Sam shook his head. “I’m good, if anything it’s more like I expect myself to be in pain, I find myself compensating for it, but I’m not. It’s confusing.”

Dean grunted. “Hey, what did they want to know anyway.”

“Huh? Oh. How you got out of Hell.”

“What?”

“They wanted to know how you—”

“I got that! Why didn’t you just tell them Cas got me out? You wouldn’t have been dragged across town!”

Sam looked at him annoyed. “It wasn’t even until I was at that hospital, until after they started torturing me when they started asking. And when do we ever just give up information that easily? And even if I did, you really think they would have just let me walk out the front door?”

Dean huffed. “Still worth a shot over… nevermind. You did good, Sammy.”

“Huh? With what?”

Dean shrugged, nonchalantly as if he wasn’t beaming with pride. “Lasted nearly seven hours, most would break.”

Sam frowned.

“What? I’m complimenting you.”

“Dean… It was only seven hours, you had four months. I had but a pinch of what you got, probably not nearly as thoroughly either.”

“Sam, I don’t—”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t remember, I know you’re lying. Either way, just thinking that you had it worse, made it easier to keep telling them to screw off.”

Dean couldn't help the smile. “That’s my boy.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but a small smile formed at the thought of making Dean proud.

* * *