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Chapter 36

Cas caught Dean, scrambling hands under his arms, trying to hold the weight of the hunter.

"Dean!" He cried as Sam helped lower him to the floor.

Dean grasped hold of Sam's sleeve, eyes ferociously determined through the pain.

"Sammy?"

"I'm here, Dean." The younger brother whispered, clasping a hand over Dean's grip. "You're okay."

Dean looked down at the blade sticking out of his chest, attempting a chuckle but groaning in pain instead. "I think I'm a bit far from okay."

He spat up some blood, trying to avoid coughing like his body was telling him to.

"It's punctured his lung." Cas stated, keeping his voice level, clinical.

Livvie was watching horrified from a distance. She had never meant for this. She had never meant to hurt Dean.

"Cas?" Dean asked, and the angel moved round so the hunter could see him. He paid no heed to his bloodied hands as he took hold of his friend.

"You shouldn't have done that." Cas told him.

"Was worth it." Dean gasped. "You're okay." He scoffed, using his free hand to grab the bloodied hands of the angel. "Cas," he pulled the angel a little closer. "I'm sorry."

Cas's jaw clenched, unable to form a reply. Of all the times for Dean to make an apology.

"You have nothing to apologise for." Cas asserted.

"No, I do." Dean told him. "I'm just glad I could save you."

Cas blinked hard, a tear falling from his eyes to join those already flowing freely from Sam's.

"And I will return the favour." Cas replied. The angel placed two fingers onto Dean's forehead, and, tugging out the blade, gave Dean everything he had.

Everything.

The room shone with the effort as he gave the last of himself. He poured his power into the wound, fusing and healing it, shaking profusely.

"It's working." Sam breathed as he watched Dean, eyes only for his brother.

None of them saw, but Livvie did the same, leaning forward to watch, but her reasoning was different. Her plan was back on track.

So lost in what was happening, the men had failed to notice Dean's blood, or more specifically, where it was going. Livvie had oiled a pattern onto the floor, which the blood flowed freely into and filled it out.

The blood of a powerful vessel.

And Cas's grace was pouring out, all being used to save a loved one.

The grace of an angel, the life of the killer.

Livvie pulled he arrow from her chest and threw it into the mix as she began chanting in Enochian.

A powerful creature.

The pattern began to burn into the floor, and the Winchesters turned to spare a glance, finally aware something was happening.

"What the-" Dean bean, but got distracted as the light levels in the room grew to blinding levels. They shielded their eyes, aware of what angels light could do.

Dean felt a heavy weight land on him, the spent body of the angel a dead weight on his now perfectly healed chest.

"Dean, we should get out of here!" Sam yelled through gritted teeth.

"But Cas-"

"Bring him!" Sam instructed. They both went to move, but found themselves knocked back by an unknown force.

"What's happening?" Dean cried.

And then to go with the blinding light, a screeching started, high pitched, loud enough to smash glass and enough to threaten the same to their eardrums.

Both Winchesters threw their hands to their ears, trying to protect themselves from the onslaught.

"Angels," Dean yelled. "Sam, its angels!"

Finally, excruciatingly, it began to fade, until only one thing could be heard.

"Dad?"

It was Olivia who had spoken.

The boys opened their eyes, aware that the burning light had dimmed.

Dean's gaze went straight to Cas, looking at the man strewn on the floor, and most disturbingly of all, the burnt wing prints on the floor.

But then he followed Sam's stare to Olivia, and he saw him. The angel, so familiar, yet so strange. He was knelt on the floor over his daughter, who was looking at him with such childish love and awe that her pain was forgotten. To her, there was nothing in the world left but the fact that her Father was back.

"Olivia." Balthazar spoke softly through lips that hadn't moved in a year. He caressed her cheek, and even Dean could see the care there. If it hadn't just killed Cas, he may have been moved.

Instead he picked up the angel blade, brandishing it towards the pair.

"Don't bother." The angel said, finally looking over. He stood up, leaving his daughter on the floor and walking towards the Winchesters, grabbing his wrist with ease and throwing the blade away. "We're on the same side."

"Really?" Dean spat. "Cos the way I see it, you just killed Cas."

Balthazar looked down to the broken body of his brother on the floor. "We parted comrades, you and I, don't forget that. I died for you, Cas died for me. It's kismet." He shrugged. "He's not nearly as dead as you think, anyway." Balthazar told them. He knelt down over the body and placed his hand to Castiel's forehead.

"What're you-?" Dean asked, but stopped as he watched in amazement as the man began to breathe, slowly, agonisingly slowly.

Balthazar stood up.

"You may want to get him to a hospital." He advised. He cast one more look to his brother, before turning his back and walking to his daughter, scooping her up in his arms, and promptly vanishing.

Dean had already stopped watching Balthazar, dropping to his knees, ignoring the blood on the floor as it soaked his jeans. He took Cas's shoulder and shook it, lightly at first, but then rougher.

"Cas?" Dean asked, voice rough, begging for a reaction. "Cas, wake up." He pleaded.

But his eyes didn't open.


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