Burn Down the Sun (3/3)

[phaelsafe]

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They materialize at the top of a cliff with a hundred foot drop and scramble behind the cover of a pile of boulders before the guards can catch sight of them. The tower is circular and rises into the air high above; the only entrance lies across a bridge that spans the ravine, which is obviously a defense mechanism designed to keep people out.

"What happens if there's a fire?" Dean mutters, as he searches for an alternate entrance. "Any idea how we get in?"

"There," Castiel points down at the base of the cliff where several drains ring the base of the structure. Water sluices out from the mouths of demon faces carved into the rock around the pipes.

"Well, that doesn't scream pompous asshat at all, does it? At least we know we have the right place."

Castiel opens his mouth to respond, but Dean cuts him off. "How are we supposed to get down there?" There's not enough purchase along the way for them to climb down.

The angel abruptly stands, wraps an arm around Dean's waist, and hugs him close.

"What the-?"

"Hang on," Castiel says.

Dean scrabbles to comply as the angel steps right off the edge.

Time slows down for a split second and then they're falling, accelerating so quickly into the well of gravity that Dean's shocked cry is lost somewhere in the space overhead. He witnesses a brief glimpse of the ground rushing to meet them when the sound of shredding air cuts in above the roaring wind. At the noise, he cranes his head around as much as he can and catches sight of dark feathers erupting from Castiel's back.

Massive wings flare out, arcing gracefully out to either side, and he and Castiel jerk upward suddenly as the blue-black pinions scoop up the wind beneath them. They hover in midair as Castiel pumps his wings to keep them aloft, but their combined weight begins to drag them back to the Earth.

They plummet a little too quickly for Dean to call it gliding, the heavy limbs flapping steadily all the way to the ground, but all in all, he is grateful he's not a bloody smear staining the floor of the chasm.

The landing is rough, the force of it jarring up through his knees, and he stumbles out of the circle of Castiel's arms. Pivoting around, he finds the angel frowning up at the cliff like he's calculating the distance, his wings furled up and out of the way. "Dude, you have wings!"

"Of course I do." Cocking his head to the side like he doesn't understand the outburst, Castiel explains, "I'm an angel. How did you think I was flying around earlier?"

Before Dean can say more on the subject, the appendages vanish from view altogether, and Castiel pushes past him as though sprouting feathers was such a common enough occurrence that they could refrain from any further discussion on the subject. He trails behind Castiel as they pick their way across the broken stones that litter the ground.

~~~~~~

"There, there, Sammy. You'll feel better soon enough," the woman coos as she ties her blond hair away from her face. She would be pretty if it wasn't for the fact that she is brandishing a vicious-looking knife and analyzing him with chalky white eyes.

He doesn't particularly appreciate being strapped to a surgical table either. "Why are you doing this?"

"Well, we have big plans," she says as she saunters out of his field of view. When she returns, she is holding a silver goblet. She drags the blade down the inside of her forearm, then catches the blood that pours out with the cup. "Your brother is trying to ruin them, and we need your help in order to stop him."

"We're running out of time, Ruby. How long will this take?" interrupts a man from the doorway.

Sam shudders at the malevolence in the voice and, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to himself, side-eyes the owner. Other than the evil radiating from him, everything about the blond man is unremarkable.

Her wound already healing over, Ruby looks up just long enough to glower at the intrusion. "Unless you would like to donate," she says, gesturing at the cup with her knife, "I suggest you go find someone else to bug."

"As you wish," he acquiesces with a bow, but a wicked smile spreads across his face.

~~~~~~

The tunnel is dim and dank. Something shuffles after them, growling from the darkness every once in awhile, but whatever it is seems to be scared of them, so it sticks to the shadows. The catacombs are much older than the upper portions of the tower, and it's obvious as they crawl past a collapsed section that the tunnels are rarely used.

Stalactites drip into pools where tiny strands of microbes that thrive on the sulfur hanging in the air glow a faint green. Dean presses his sleeve to his nose to block out the noxious fumes. "This place stinks. I hope the air clears up once we get out of these caves. You doing okay, Cas?"

The angel blanches. Even though he seems unaffected by the sulfur, he is ashen-faced and jittery. "This place is evil."

"Yeah, well, you know-" Dean emphatically waves a hand around "-demons."

They come to a stop at a fork in the path. Nothing significant stands out to Dean as he attempts to figure out which way to go. He glances at Castiel, who just shakes his head, distracted.

"This place is messing with my-"

"-divine compass?" Dean interjects. He tries a smile to lighten things up, but they're both too tense for him to pull it off.

"...yes." Castiel is distant as he tries to concentrate once more, but he deflates after a few seconds. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. Thanks for trying, though," Dean says, squeezing Castiel's shoulder gently.
"Maybe we should split up?"

"No!" He steps into Dean's space, eyes frantically searching the hunter's face. "You have no way to protect yourself. We should stay together."

"Cas," Dean sighs. He pinches the bridge of his nose and thinks. "We're running out of time, right?" Castiel's gaze darts to the side, but he nods. "And you can fly to me whenever, right?" Castiel nods again, though he still doesn't seem convinced. "What other choice do we have?"

"I just-" Castiel refuses to look at him, "-don't want to lose you."

A frustrated noise slips from Dean and he seizes Castiel, palms framing the angel's face and forcing his attention back to Dean. His fingers slide back, threading through the short, black strands of hair, and Dean yanks Castiel forward, claiming his lips.

Castiel's eyes widen in surprise, glinting cornflower blue even in the shadows before sliding shut. He leans in, deepens the kiss, and he clutches at Dean's wrists to keep him from breaking away too soon.

Melting into the embrace, Dean feels both wanted and sheltered, but he shifts his hands down to rest lightly upon the slope of Castiel's shoulder and pulls back. Castiel grumbles in frustration, but Dean leans in to bump their foreheads together. "Trust me."

"But-"

"You pick one direction, and I'll go the other. Just come get me if you find anything, okay?" He smiles and kisses Castiel again, swift but sweet this time.

"Be still, my beating heart. If it isn't the one who got away and his little pet angel. What have I done to deserve this gift?"

A malignant force presses in on them from out of nowhere, flinging both hunter and angel into the nearest wall. Dean's head cracks against the clammy stone and his stomach churns with terror as Alastair slithers into the space between them. Fingers dig into their throats, and the Fallen twists his narrow face toward Dean. "Oh, how I've been missing you. Did you miss me?"

With that sing-song cadence, the voice he hears in his nightmares, Dean shudders. Words stick in his throat, trapped there by the knowledge of what this creature is capable of, but Dean does manage to answer with a quick and adamant shake of his head.

"Alastair," Castiel growls, his tone pushing beyond the mere threat of violence. He scrabbles to free himself from the hand crushing his windpipe and the blighted power pinning him against the wall.

"I'll be with you in just a moment, Castiel," he hums, preoccupied, and licks up along Dean's leaping pulse.

The hot breath on Dean’s face is too much to take. He closes his eyes and tries to bite back a whimper. When Sam had suggested they steer clear of this whole thing, Dean had blocked the possibility of meeting Alastair again from his mind. He's ashamed that he can't contain his fear, that he is shutting down from it.

Alastair knows it too; he presses a treacherous smile into Dean's skin. "Now that's more like it. Dean Winchester, mighty hunter of all those things that go bump in the night, reduced to a whining pup at the thought of a little torture."

"Enough!" Castiel shouts, and on impulse, Dean screws his eyes shut. Even then, the flash that fills the passage leaves abstract patterns flickering against his retinas.

Dean crashes to the floor with Alastair's no longer holding him up. Trying to catch his breath, he rolls onto his hands and knees.

Castiel strides over to where Alastair has landed and kicks him square in the face. Alastair goes sprawling further down the corridor, but he draws his knees up and flings his legs out, pushing with his hands. The momentum springs him back onto his feet, and he lands in a defensive crouch.

As Castiel closes the distance between them, Alastair lunges. The angel steps aside quickly enough, but Alastair lashes out with his power and knocks Castiel into the far wall hard enough to make the entire tunnel tremble from the impact. He saunters after, once more grabbing Castiel by the throat. He proceeds to pummel the angel in the stomach, then he lets loose with a punch to the face for good measure, catching Castiel in the jaw.

"I was right there, Castiel. How could you miss?" Alastair complains scornfully. He shifts forward, dropping his voice to a whisper. Castiel's eyes widen in horror and flit over to Dean.

Struggling to his feet, Dean tries to gather his wits about him. He can't hear what is being said, but he's quite aware of just how inventive Alastair can be when twisting words into terrifying notions.

The only thing Dean has on him is the shard, so he wraps his fingers around it, wielding it like a knife as he sneaks as quickly and quietly as he can toward the scuffling pair.

He is a little concerned about how easily he can creep up on Alastair, and he expects at any moment to find himself lured into some kind of trap. He remains unnoticed though - most likely because Alastair is too busy tormenting Castiel - so when he's standing close enough, he breaks the silence with a frightened "hey!" and thrusts the shard down into the soft flesh between Alastair's neck and shoulder.

As he jerks it out, Alastair releases Castiel with a howl and wheels around, backhanding Dean across the face. The blow skews his vision and sets off a ringing in his ears. He goes down, losing his bearings and tripping over his own feet as he scrambles to get away. A furious Alastair sets sights on him, and the attention sends a scalding terror streaking through Dean. He gasps and tries to shrink further into the floor.

"Dean!" The shout comes out as little more than a wheeze as Castiel grabs at Alastair.

Alastair fists his good hand into Castiel's hair and drags him to his feet, slamming the angel's head repeatedly against the rock until he goes limp. A hand flies out, and the Fallen leers at him. "Goodbye, Dean!"

A crack sounds as Alastair rips at the empty air. As Dean glances up, the wooden brace above his head begins to split apart. The support disintegrates completely and the ceiling collapses, raining dirt and rock upon his head and burying him beneath a pile of earth.

~~~~~~

Castiel comes to as fingers fist in his hair and wrench his head back. A leather strap cinches tightly around his neck, and he finds himself unable to move much at all. He's sitting in a metal chair, secured to the frame by similar straps around his wrists and ankles. Old but simple wards purposely designed to keep supernatural beings from escaping have been scorched into the leather.

"There must be some easier way for you to earn your wings," Alastair snarls, his face suddenly filling Castiel's view. "Stealing away into Hell and snatching my little toy from me?"

He disappears once more, and Castiel can hear Alastair shuffling about behind him. "What are you going to-"

"-do? I don't know." The Fallen interrupts with glee. "This is how we turn those wretched humans into shades. I guess we'll see what happens when the subject is an angel. My guess is that your Grace will be sucked right out of you. I intend to see what makes you tick, so it'll keep me warm once your entrails finally go cold."

The tinny jangle of a lever being drawn reaches Castiel's ears, followed by the mechanical drone of rotating gears and an agitating metal chain. The wall before him slides away to reveal a brightly polished mirror that hangs over a deep vent. A boom swings the rotating mirror closer, and Castiel tracks a point of reflected light as it courses in his direction.

The light strikes him in the face, and though he tries to look away, his gaze gravitates back into the full force of the beam. There's a quality to the energy that he recognizes as sunlight, echoes of the happiness and love and warmth that permeates the universe, but it is deceptive; the signature of this energy has been altered, tempered by the greedy darkness of the crystal.

At first, the ray simply plucks at his essence until he can feel his Grace begin to accumulate just behind his eyes - the eyes are the window to the soul, after all - then it bores into him, ripping and tearing the more he resists.

Cas is unable to shut his eyes against the intrusion that threatens to cleave his spirit in two.

~~~~~~

The shard is a much better knife than spade, but Dean continues to burrow through the soil and rock until the final layer of sediment gives way. As he shimmies his way out, the handprint upon his shoulder blossoms with a heat that drills into his soul. He curls his fingers around the mark in an attempt to alleviate the searing agony.

"Cas!" He hollers, mustering his resolve. "You've got to-"

~~~~~~

"-fight him!"

For a moment, Castiel thinks he can hear Dean calling out to him, but the voice belongs to Gabriel!

"Come on, Cas. I know you've been sitting in Heaven with your thumb up your ass for the last few millennia, but you have powers. Use them!" Gabriel demands.

"Shut up, archangel," Alastair hisses.

Focusing inward, Castiel draw on his memories of what it's like to manifest outside the confines of his physical body. With a shove, he reaches past the first three dimensions and into the multitude of curved planes beyond.

The symbols that bind him to this point in space fizzle and pop, glowing red as he pushes the magic to its limits and unravels the energy from a different existential perspective altogether. The leather incinerates, leaving only a trace of ash behind, and Castiel fights to hold his true form in check.

He can sense everything in the room as he draws his Grace back into his avatar: Gabriel is trapped within a circle of fire, and Alastair is rushing from the other side of the room to that which is Castiel's more substantial visage. The Fallen may be stronger, but he seems to have forgotten how celestial beings behave while functioning upon a celestial wavelength - Castiel certainly had grown accustomed to working within the linear boundaries of reality - but Castiel is free now. He flies to Alastair, his raw angelic presence cutting neatly through the planes, and embraces the warped figure of what used to be his brother.

Alastair stops, stunned by both the action itself and the divine radiance enveloping him. His eyes momentarily turn completely white; then Castiel materializes and slides his silver blade through the column of Alastair's neck, instantly puncturing spinal cord and larynx.

Golden-hued lightning flashes up through Alastair's skin and arcs back to the razor-sharp point of the weapon. Somewhere above, Castiel feels the crystal blaze to life, and then Alastair's eyes flare with a brilliant blue light as his Grace returns to his vessel and shatters into nothing.

He releases Alastair and turns to face an applauding Gabriel. The flames lick lazily along the circle, and even from this distance, Castiel feels compelled to move away; he can't imagine what it would be like to be surrounded on all sides. As he approaches the archangel, the feeling becomes a stinging demand.

"I knew you could do it!" Gabriel cheers. "I must say, Cas, that was pretty impressive.”

"How do I get you out?"

"You can't. It takes a lot of this stuff to keep me in here though, and without Alastair to supply the oil, it should burn off pretty quickly." Gabriel shrugs then says, "You've got bigger problems though. The eclipse begins soon, and you need to find the Righteous Man."

Castiel inhales sharply. "He's still alive?"

"You know he is," Gabriel says, crossing his arms and looking mildly disappointed.

Castiel does know - for a fact - that Dean is alive, so he tries to fly to the hunter.

"Problems?" Gabriel asks, smirking. "I'm not surprised. After that, you'll need to recharge your batteries. You'll have to go the long way, I'm afraid. Go that way. It will lead you to the chamber where the crystal is." He jerks his head at the correct door.

~~~~~~

The pain ceases and Dean whines at the sudden flood of relief. The edges of his vision blur as he scrambles to his feet too quickly, and he leans against the wall until his eyes adapt.

He still doesn't know which path to take. The trail of blood leading off to the left is almost the deciding factor, except Dean can't shake his intuition that Castiel is in the other direction. If the angel can sense Dean, maybe he can sense Castiel. His shoulder throbs like it concurs, and he takes the tunnel to the right.

~~~~~~

He's been wandering steadily upward forever with no sign of Sam, Castiel or the bad guys - other than the occasional mindless shade. Dean has no problems getting around them though; they seem incapable of acting on their own without direction from one of the Fallen.

Finally, he stumbles onto an amphitheater. Dean finds himself standing on the of lowest of a series of tiered balconies, and he can hear voices rising in chorus from down in the chamber. He creeps closer and peers cautiously over the low railing.

Below, the demons stand on a dais, chanting in a language he doesn't recognize. The crystal hangs over a yawning shaft that drops down into the belly of the tower. Odd symbols are drawn in what looks to be blood on the floor around it, and the demons are spaced equidistant from each other within that circle.

He recognizes Meg, Lilith, Michael, and Lucifer, but the rest are unknown to him: an elfish looking red-headed woman, a very, very solid tall black man, a blond woman who watches on while impatiently playing with a knife, and a dark-haired man wearing an expensive suit. There's no sign of Alastair, and instead of feeling relief, Dean worries that the evil creature is somehow searching him out.

Sunshine pours from an oculus above into a prism that splits the light into myriad directions. Mirrors and more prisms placed around the walls redirect some of the light to other parts of the tower, but the majority cascades down, illuminating the occupants of the circle and throwing everything beyond into darkness.

"And so it begins!" Lucifer's announcement rings throughout the hall, but the fallen archangel looks oddly inattentive, his focus cast off into the distance despite how he chants along with the others.

Dean glances up to the ceiling: the moon is beginning to eclipse the sun. He pulls the shard out, unsure of what he's supposed to do with it, but he knows he will have to figure something out soon. His eyes drift downward only to land upon Castiel standing across the room on a similar ledge, his eyes cast up to the oculus.

"Cas," he whispers reflexively. Dean had known - guided by intuition - that Castiel was alive, but the sight of him still catches Dean off guard. He is so full of relief that he feels dizzy.

Even with the distance separating them, Castiel hears Dean, and he gazes back with a mix of expectation, guilt, and fear plastered across his face.

"There you are!"

The blithe voice startles Dean, and he spins around to find Sam leaning in from the hallway. There is something off with Sam's posture. When he steps over the threshold, he walks without any limp; though, if Cas healed Dean, any of the Fallen could've healed Sam. Cautiously edging toward his brother, Dean asks, "Sam?"

"And here I thought you'd be more trouble."

The Sam standing before him feels wrong, treacherous. His words are calm, collected, and tarnished with corruption. Dean immediately wants to cover his ears to block out the false sound of Sam's voice. "You're not my brother."

"He's still here. Look, Dean, you misunderstand all of this," the other hunter replies. He nods his head toward the crystal as he advances on Dean. "I just want to make this world a better place, a paradise."

Dean glances over his shoulder and grimaces; he's running out of room. "What have you done to Sam?"

Sam tilts his head to the side in much the same way Castiel so frequently does. "You can go free. I'll let Sammy go with you, and maybe even Castiel - just hand over the shard."

Feeling his heart sink, Dean checks the progress of the eclipse: the moon is almost directly in front of the sun. Movement snags his attention and he sees more demons filing into the lower tiers, and vaguely human forms pressing into the upper rows.

There is just enough time, just enough space, and so he runs and leaps onto the railing, using it to vault himself toward the crystal.

"Dean!" Sam hollers after him, his voice biting and a little frantic.

The crystal catches him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and the shard from his hand. It sails through the air and over the breach then skitters across the ground.

Sam also jumps, his eyes never leaving the shard. Dean watches on and expects the worst from such a drop, but Sam lands with the the easy grace of cat then strides after his mark.

Castiel descends from his position above, his wings manifesting, and snatches it up first. He holds it close to his body as a silver blade appears in his other hand.

"Come now, Cas," Sam retorts, and though his tone is full of disdain, he carefully edges along just out of the angel's reach. "What do you hope to gain here?"

Castiel doesn't reply as he circles back toward the middle of the room. He curves his wings out defensively, further expanding his range. Never letting Sam or the other demons stay at his back for very long, his eyes flick around, expecting any of them to try to get the jump on him. Sam makes the first move, charging Castiel head-on.

The angel vanishes only to reappear behind Sam, and he sweeps out with the upper span of his wing. The dark feathers cloak Castiel's attack as he thrusts the blade forward, but Sam manages to dodge both wing and dagger. He deftly disarms Castiel with one hand while grabbing for the hand holding the shard. Then ducking down and around the wing, he twists Castiel's wrist back and up as he presses the point of the weapon against the angel's throat. "Drop it," Sam suggests with growl, yanking upward and bending Castiel's arm at an awkward angle.

"I will not," Castiel answers. He tightens his grip as much as the position allows.

The hunter digs his thumb into the tendon running along the angel's wrist in warning. "Please don't make me do this," he pleads, suddenly sounding just like the real Sam.

Castiel wavers for the briefest of moments, but then he slaps his free hand to Sam's forehead. Sam's eyes begin to glow and his body lurches. The blade cuts into Castiel's neck as Sam goes rigid, but he ignores it as he concentrates, chasing after the demon blood with his holy power.

"Cas, don't!" Dean cries out, and the angel stops instantly, hand falling to pull the blade away from his neck.

Sam doesn't move.

"Take the shard, and kill him." Lucifer orders.

"No," Sam declares finally. He steps away from Cas, jerking as though he is trying to shake away the remnants of a clinging dream.

"You dare defy me?" Lucifer says, angry. He stalks over to Sam and grabs him by the throat.

Frantic, Dean's eyes dart around as he tries to figure out how to get down. He can't find any purchase to pull himself up, and even then, he's too high up and too far away from the edge of the floor to jump for it. He glances hopelessly back to Sam, and snarls with so much vehemence that his voice cracks. "If you hurt either Sam or Cas, I will rip your dead wings off and feed them to you."

"Dean," Castiel calls, and the moment their eyes meet, the angel tosses the shard back to Dean. "You can save us: you have to fix the crystal."

Dean catches it, and Lucifer roars in rage. Sam struggles desperately to break free from the Fallen angel's crushing grip. He tries to use Castiel's blade for defense, but he's too weak. Lucifer easily removes the weapon and promptly tosses the hunter down the shaft. He then whirls on Castiel and, before Castiel can blink, the demon shoves the shining blade in between his ribs.

"Sam!" Dean can't see very far below him, certainly nothing of his brother's fate. He tries to push away the rising panic, and his eyes dart back to Cas.

Castiel crumples. The room falls utterly silent as Lucifer catches him, and the angel glances up.

"This isn't what I wanted, Castiel," Lucifer says, jerking the weapon out and tossing it aside.

Searing light pours from the puncture, instantly staunching the flow of blood, and Castiel looks down. He frowns and presses a palm to it, his brow creasing with confusion as the light leaks out around his fingers. Eyes lifting to seek Dean out one last time, all the hope there drains out leaving Castiel looking broken and lost.

"You weren't supposed to interfere," he says, sounding curious, and not at all troubled by his brother's critical state. "But I guess this is the way it was meant to be," Lucifer adds and drops Castiel to the ground without further ado. "Now, about that shard..." He says, holding his hand out expectantly.

Tears track down Dean's face and drop onto the chunk of crystalline rock beneath him. He watches them trace along the smooth surface, flawless except for the space missing the piece cleaved loose that he now holds in his hand. He thinks of Sam and Cas, both lost to him now, and a hot fury surges up, engulfing him.

"With a little more help from us, your brother would've been capable of commanding entire armies of our shades. I was in his head, there," Lucifer says, tapping his temple. "He was never happy with you - by the way, you're a terrible brother - and look where sticking with you got him: killed... twice now."

The Fallen are backing away, agitated and fearful of Dean, and they keep glancing back to Lucifer as he antagonizes the grief-stricken hunter.

Darkness falls across the room as the moon fully occults the sun. The edges of the shard glitter, reflecting the remaining light back at Dean. His fingers track down, instinctively searching out the recess in the crystal. It occurs to Dean that this tiny little defect is the cause of so much suffering. Sam and Castiel may have reluctantly dragged him here, but he knows in his heart that their deaths will be the last. He will end this feud.

He looks up to the sky and as the heavens lock into place, he slides the shard back into place. Dean takes shallow pleasure in the horror that flashes across Lucifer's face.

The corona of the sun blazes to life, and the prism above focuses the oddly vivid light into a laser that scorches right through Dean's left shoulder and into the formation bearing his weight. Blood splashes onto the crystal, sizzling as the heat intensifies. Something unnatural roils within it and it thrums with power. The internal fractures shift and spread, and a crack concusses through the room as a burst of energy explodes outward, sending Dean sprawling to the floor.

As the crystal incandesces, it begins to liquefy, the impurities within fusing together. It solidifies into a uniform crystal of perfect clarity. Rays shoot out, catching and paralyzing the demons in place. Their eyes blaze a luminous blue, and Dean has to shut his eyes against the building light that washes everything to white.

~~~~~~

Either Fate is really twisted, or he's not destined to die yet, because Sam doesn't land very far from where he was tossed. A crossbeam broke his fall, and probably most of his ribs, but he isn't going to complain too much at the moment. Every part of his body hurts though, and he doesn't think he will be able to remain conscious for much longer so he scrunches his eyes shut and he prays.

"This really isn't the safest place to take a nap."

Not expecting any response to his silent pleas, Sam jolts and almost loses his tenuous grip, but a hand steadies him and he looks up. "Gabriel," he breathes in awe. His demon-blooded vision allows him to see beyond what his normal human sight is capable of; Sam is just barely able to comprehend the image superimposed over the other being as: "every living thing within Creation."

Warmth floods his body, healing his injuries, and searing the demonic taint from his veins.

The archangel is crouching precariously beside Sam, multiple pairs of huge golden wings flared out and acting as counterweights. "Come on, kiddo. Let's go find our wayward brothers," he says and taps the hunter's temple.

~~~~~~

As the radiance subsides and Dean's eyes adjust, Gabriel appears with Sam on the other side of the circle. The turbulent feeling in Dean's chest eases slightly as Sam rolls over and they lock eyes. The archangel helps Sam up, then Sam catches sight of Castiel, and he deflates.

A rush of panic spurs Dean forward. He scrambles to where Castiel lays collapsed in a heap of black feathers and pulls Castiel's lax hand away from the wound. There's no blood, no light - there's nothing. Despite the numbness in his arm, Dean gathers the angel up, mindful of the drooping wings. He brushes a dark lock of hair away from Castiel's face, and when Castiel still doesn't stir, he buries his face in the bend of the angel's neck.

He fulfilled the prophecy, but nothing had been mentioned about this. Dean had assumed they'd either all make it through the final battle, or all perish, but this wasn't supposed to happen. He hadn't considered what he would do if he ended up surviving and Castiel didn't.

"Dean."

He doesn't recognize the voice, so he ignores it, but Gabriel and Sam are suddenly crouching to either side of him, snarling up at the speaker.

"Back off, Michael," Gabriel cautions as Sam snatches Castiel's discarded blade up for protection.

"Hello, Gabriel. It's nice to see you again too," Michael greets. "I have no intention of harming Dean; I only wish to speak with him."

Dean feels Michael approaching him, the force of the archangel's presence physically displacing the air around them. He doesn't really care.

"Thank you, Dean, for saving us."

Michael sounds so full of gratitude and awe that Dean looks up in shock. The other angels are all weeping. Then his wrath flares back to life as Michael's words sink in. He opens his mouth to reply, but anguish crashes into him like a landslide, arresting his ability to speak and leaving him with only a blistering glare to direct at Michael.

The archangel flinches but gazes upward, and Dean's eyes track along the same path. The shades had been returned to their original human bodies during the blast of the crystal. Michael lifts his hands and everyone in the balconies disappear. "They are where they belong now." He cants his head to the side and examines Dean, then turns to the angels at his back and holds out his palm. "Lucifer."

The blond archangel stands there, looking utterly crestfallen, his eyes cast to the ground and his shoulders hunched with regret. He remains motionless until Michael beckons once more.

Sam shifts restlessly behind Dean as Lucifer draws closer. The angel is strangely subdued compared to his earlier brazen attitude. Lucifer meets Dean's eyes, then glances down at Castiel and sorrow streaks through his expression. "I didn't think he would... I'm sorry."

"Save your apologies for someone who cares," Dean responds, his voice breaking with emotion.

Lucifer stiffens, his jaw clenching with frustration, and he strides the last few steps between them. His fingers loop around the hunter's jaw, forcing him to look up, and their intense glares collide.

Sam surges to his feet and angles the blade against the hollow of Lucifer's throat. He digs in just enough to pierce skin and draw blood, as much as a warning as Lucifer is likely to get. "Don't."

"Sam..." Gabriel tries, sounding protective of both hunter and angel.

Lucifer ignores them both and bends down, placing a tender kiss to Dean's forehead before rematerializing safely beside Michael.

"What did you-"

Sam's question is drowned out as a heat spreads from the consecration and down through Dean's body, chasing away the pain as his shoulder heals and filling him with a sense of serenity. It flows from his fingers into Castiel, and the angel begins to warm up.

Castiel's eyes fly open and he blinks owlishly up at Dean. His lungs expand sharply as he gasps, dragging in a shuddering breath. "Dean?"

"Cas...!" Dean leans into the tentative fingers that caress his cheek. He presses his lips against Castiel's palm before clasping it to his cheek with his own hand.

"We were arrogant and destructive, and for that, we were made to learn a lesson," Michael explains.

"Instead, we tried to escape our punishment by shattering the crystal that locked us to this realm," Lucifer chimes in. "We became twisted, hateful creatures. With your courage, your sacrifice, you have freed us."

"Great. Really, I mean I'm thrilled that we could be of service. It's a real privilege to have died, to have gone through Hell, both literally and figuratively, to help you through your daddy issues." Dean replies. In case he has failed to make his point he adds, "You guys are a bunch of dicks."

Only the hint of a smile appears on Michael's face, but laughter fills his eyes. "Hold him to you, for you are a part of each other now," the archangel says. "You do share a more profound bond."

And then the angels disappear from sight.

"Well, congratulations, you two. You have Michael's blessing." Gabriel smirks.

"If the world is safe," Sam says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "can we go home now?"

Gabriel obliges.

~~~~~~

The stacks of wrecked cars in Bobby's yard around Dean add a nostalgic feeling as he, Cas, and Sam watch the sunset from the hood of the Impala. The suspension creaks, and Dean turns to find Gabriel sitting atop the roof of the vehicle like he owns it.

"Hey, get off my car," Dean berates the archangel. He gets a bag of food to the face for his effort.

"Well, hello to you too!" Gabriel says as he unpacks the other bag and hands a burger to Castiel. "I come bearing gifts. Don't thank me all at once."

"Gabriel," Castiel acknowledges as he discreetly eyes the offering before accepting it and taking a bite. His expression melts to bliss and he merrily chomps into his food.

"Thought you said you were going home..." Dean grouses as he removes the wrapper from his own burger.

"Yeah, well, the Heavenly Host may be trying to fix the damage they've caused, but apparently penitent angels are still presumptuous dicks." Sam chokes on his beer, and Gabriel helpfully leans over to thump him on the back.

Dean looks over his shoulder at Gabriel. "You got yourself kicked out again."

"Pretty much. Better get used to me, kid. They might be family, but this feels so much more like it," Gabriel declares. He reaches out and affectionately ruffles Dean's hair, leaving the hunter to sputter with indignation. "Besides, our dear Father seems to have gone on an extended vacation, which is why Raphael didn't try to stop this whole mess. Everyone else in Heaven is frantically searching for him."

"Not surprised he'd want to hide from you lot," Dean mutters.

"Have you tried Dean's room?" Sam suggests. Dean turns an impassive look upon his brother.

"What? Bobby's walls are a little thin, and I could've sworn... well, you kept mentioning God," Sam says, smiling innocently.

A startled noise escapes from Gabriel and he busies himself with trying to dislodge the food he inhaled down the wrong pipe.

If his brother wants to go there, Dean is willing to elucidate. "Sam is exaggerating. Cas and I were only-" Sam slides his palm over Dean's mouth, but he continues talking, and Sam's eyes get rounder as his cheeks turn redder.

"You were right, Dean. These make me-" Castiel wolfs down the remnants of his meal and licks the grease from his fingers "-very happy."

Dean yanks the hand away from his face. "Just wait until you try some pie!"

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