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Caritas | Sunday

Graduation was a fun time for everyone with all the guests, cake, and hugging happening around the island.

Well, everyone but Tino. He never seemed to get to leave.

Sad.

But there was a party at Caritas tonight and Clark decided he could go the extra mile to make the lounge look a little festive. Blue and gold paper streamers and balloons awaited any graduates, birthday boys, and friends who might stop in for a drink. Or a balloon animal - if he could figure out how to make something not a snake.

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Castiel had no shirt on. His chest was bandaged, and he was still a little damp from washing off the blood. He also -- and he felt this was most important -- now had a drink.

"Sam," he said, and raised his glass. "Your trust in your brother may well have gotten an entire world killed. Happy birthday."

Sam stared at Castiel, and then looked at his drink. Surely he hadn't had so much to drink that he was hallucinating?

"Uh, thanks. For the birthday wishes part, at least," he said, eying the bandages. "What happened to you?"

"I sided with Winchesters." Castiel took a drink. "And trusted Dean."

Oh, if only he knew.

"That's...a good thing, right?" Sam asked. "Trusting Dean is always a good idea."

"That is exactly the reason why my world was doomed." And it called for another drink. Yes.

"There must be some mistake. Dean would never do anything to bring about the end of the world," Sam said. "Wait, are you drinking? Did you get bitten by a gremlin or something?"

"No." Castiel looked at his drink and sighed. "Yes. But there have been no gremlins." He looked back up. "Dean gave up. He's likely Michael's meat-suit as we speak."

He should probably mention that he meant the Dean of his own world, there. Ah well, hopefully Sam would figure that out.

Yeah, not really getting what Castiel was talking about helped him figure out which Dean he meant. "Maybe you should sit down," he said. "At least while you're drinking? And look, I don't know what's going on with you, but I do know that Dean never gives up. Ever. On anything or anyone. You've just got to have faith in him sometimes."

Castiel snorted. "I had faith," he said. "I gave up everything because of my faith in him. He gave up in Hell, and he gave up . . ." He pointed at Sam. "On you." He sat down heavily on the closest available chair. "Condolences."

"My Dean wouldn't give up on me," Sam said fiercely, trying not to think about Dean ever being in Hell, and all the implications that came with that. "Or on you, if you gave up as much for him as you say. I know sometimes universes can be different, but I didn't think ours were that different. I'm sorry though," he added, "for what that might be worth." Defending Dean didn't seem like it'd sober Castiel up much.

"And thus, you delivered him straight to Zachariah." Castiel waved his free hand in the air, then finished his glass and tilted his head at Sam. "Do you want anything? Gifts are traditional, I believe."

"No, I don't need anything," Sam said, shaking his head. Honestly, he had to wonder if Castiel was in a good enough state to give him anything safely. "Thank you though, for the offer. Is there anything... I don't know, anything I can do to help you?"

"No, no," Castiel said, shaking his head. "You giving gifts is not traditional." He went to take another drink, then frowned at his empty glass. "I could probably give you a kitten. When they're born."

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"Cas, you're back!" Dean exclaimed, stating the obvious. "What the hell happened to you?"

Castiel peered at Dean. "You. Or . . . the other you."

Dean was used to people referring to the other guys running around with his face so it seemed natural to ask, "Which other me?"

Castiel blinked. "The one from my world. He gave in. The world ended. And now . . . I'm here."

It didn't happen exactly that way, of course, but Castiel felt he had little reason to believe it would have gone otherwise.

"Are you drunk?" Dean asked, frowning a little. Not that he was ignoring what Cas had said, but it seemed an important question to ask.

"Mildly, yes."

"Right.... Okay, what's this about the world ending and the other me giving in?"

"That's pretty much it," Castiel admitted. "You decided to say 'yes' to being Michael's vessel. And frankly, I didn't want to see that."

"Wait, I think I missed a chapter or two here," Dean said, frowning. "What's this about being a vessel?"

Ah, right, this Dean wouldn't know that yet. "You and Sam were born to be the vessels of Michael and Lucifer, respectively. Either one gets their true vessel, and they'll move to defeat the other. The world dies, and becomes a part of either Heaven or Hell. Again, respectively."

"Sammy and I were born to be... That sucks!" The more he heard, the less he liked the reality Cas came from.

"Quite a bit, yes. When you learned that the angels orchestrated your blood line, you declared us 'Team Free Will'. And then you decided to throw yourself at Zachariah."

But Castiel wasn't bitter. Oh no.

Okay, maybe a little.