"The rift could close at any time." Castiel looked toward the dark crimson tear wedged in the gap, held in place by Lucifer's cage. "And there are still a lot of our people inside."
"Then we have even less time to waste." Dean grinned and patted the bone blade at his waist, a keepsake Benny had given him from Purgatory. "Get the hell out of here, angel boy. Go save your bird-brained brothers."
"This place," he said, jerking his thumb toward the rift, "leave it to us professional ground troops."
Castiel's throat tightened.
He wanted to say thank you, wanted to apologize, wanted to say so much—but in the end, he only looked deeply at the two of them. His gaze held guilt, trust, and an unspoken faith that needed no words.
"Take care." He nodded solemnly.
"You too." Sam stepped forward and gave him a hard hug. It was brief, but firm. "And don't go getting yourself lost again."
Castiel nodded. Without lingering, he turned and headed toward Elijah.
Elijah was already impatiently channeling energy. A pale golden glow enveloped them both, the air distorted slightly, and the next second, they vanished from where they stood as if erased by a rubber.
Dean watched the spot where they had disappeared and spat out a bloody mouthful. "Damn it, there's never a moment of peace."
"He's always been like that." Sam pulled up his newly rebooted 'Internet Addiction' communicator. Its screen showed constantly refreshing signal data and coordinate markers. "He carries too much. Come on, we've still got plenty to do."
They did not rest. They did not even tend to the wounds on their bodies that had already begun to inflame and fester. After simply replenishing their ammunition and replacing their borax solution canisters, they headed back toward the