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After Castiel had run off and attacked those workers in that factory, Dean wasn't taking anymore chances. Sure, Castiel had punched him in the face and was near to strangling him, but Dean had been able to calm the raging-beast angel long enough to wrestle him back to the car. The hunter considered that they should get an angel trap painted inside the trunk, too, but Castiel was mostly cooperative as long as Dean kept talking to him.
The spell should have made Castiel stronger, and it did sometimes, but Castiel's grace allowed him to fight it with the price of weakening himself. The feeling was akin to the time his stolen grace was waning – feverish and coughing – because he was struggling to not assault every living thing in sight. Rowena's attack dog spell had done a number on him. He buckled himself up in the back of the Impala hoping it would keep him contained for a few extra seconds if he ended up losing control of his fight and leashing out on Dean who was driving.
Dean's phone rang, and he answered it. “Hey, Sam. Please tell me you have some good news.” Sam said that he got Rowena and that they were headed back to the bunker. “Awesome,” Dean said, looking at Castiel through the rear-view mirror. “I've got Cas as well. Meet us in the dungeon when you get there.” After Sam affirmed, Dean hung up the phone.
“I hope you have plans to lock me up properly when we arrive,” Castiel said, groaning at the wave of heat battering his senses.
Dean nodded. “Yeah, buddy. Not making the same mistake twice.”
“Dean.”
“Yeah, Cas?” Dean looked at Castiel in the mirror again, watched the angel lean back in the seat and tilt his head to look up at the roof.
“Thank you for keeping me from killing those people,” Cas said with a sigh. “It's getting harder to fight this spell, and I don't know-”
“Don't mention it, Cas,” Dean interrupted, smirking to himself. “It's what I live for. Hey, you wanna listen to some music?”
“No.” Castiel shook his head and hissed through his teeth at the force of the spell. “I... I would rather you talk to me, Dean. I think it's keeping me grounded.”
“What do you want to talk about?” Dean asked.
“Anything,” Castiel answered. “Not the spell.”
Dean pursed his lips and read a passing road sign – they'd be at the bunker within the next twenty minutes, fifteen if he went a little over the speed limit. “Hey, did I tell you about the Tulpa Sam and I dealt with in Texas?”
“Yes, but I wouldn't mind hearing it again.”
Dean was telling a handcuffed-to-the-chair Castiel about the spirit of a priest that was convincing people to kill “evil doers” in Rhode Island when Sam walked into the bunker's dungeon and bodily shoved Rowena into the room. Dean noted that she, too, was handcuffed.
“Oh, I almost didn't believe you when you said he was still alive, Sam.” Rowena smiled, curling her fingers together in front of her. “Got a strong heart there, Angel.
Castiel grunted, raising his head to shoot her a blood-shot glare. “Grace. My grace is keeping me from burning out.”
“Is that so?” Rowena gave a knowing smile and moved to stand next to Dean. “I'm sure it's not grace that's kept you from maiming the Winchesters, no?”
Dean turned his head and pointed at the red mark and bruising above his brow. “Hasn't kept him from trying. Now how do we fix this?”
Rowena shook her head. “You boys are no good on your promises. Sam said I could go free if I helped remove the Mark. And now look at me.” She held up her hands to indicate the handcuffs around her wrist with a pout. “And Sam did such a swell job of killing Crowley for me.”
“Yes, you helped. Then you turned Cas into your attack dog!” Sam barked, pointing to the angel in the middle of the room. “You've lost your freedom.”
Rowena dropped her hands and straightened her back, turning to Sam with a tilt of her chin. “If I help you again , what do I get in return? I hear my son still isn't dead.” She gave Castiel a pointed look. “How did you manage to fail at that, too, Angel? With my spell even?”
“Seems your boy smoked out first,” Dean answered her and stepped forward. “The only thing I can promise you is that I might not kill you after you cure Cas.”
Rowena rolled her eyes and looked over at Sam. “If you'd listened to your friend, the other little redhead, you'd already have an answer.”
“Charlie?” Sam shook his head, frowning. “What does she have to do with this?”
Rowena explained, “She did mention a spell. While it wouldn't be enough to overcome the Mark, it has other uses. There's that... or you could try to find a tiger in heat to bleed out, but I'm sure you'd rather spare a poor innocent animal if you can.”
“What's the catch?” Dean asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh, not much. Just some simple plants, a little bit of blood... I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding everything you need.”
“The catch?” Dean asked again with raised brows.
Rowena smirked, clearly enjoying toying with the boys. “The catch, darling, is simply a kiss.”
“A kiss?” Dean looked to Castiel who had his head slumped forward and had been oddly quiet.
“Vera amoris osculum,” Sam whispered.
“Very good, Sam,” Rowena mocked.
Sam had groaned and stood up suddenly, rubbing his eyes. He had looked over to Charlie who was still nose-deep in her own laptop, searching for clues in the codex to cure Dean of his Mark. “Ugh, I'm so tired of trying to look up breaking curses and coming back to the same things. Magic mirrors, poppets, talismans. Nothing's specific enough. Even Disney and fairytale 'power of love' crap is starting to pop up in my desperation.”
Charlie had perked up at that. “Well, love is the most powerful force in the universe, right? What about 'true love's kiss'?”
Rowena had chuckled in her seat and closed the book before her. “A romantic, hmm? That would not be strong enough to break this curse.”
“Wait, is 'true love's kiss' a real thing?” Sam had asked, perplexed.
“Not in the sense that you know it.” Rowena had shrugged and crossed her legs. “We witches try not to advertise that the vera amoris osculum spell could undo a lot of our work. There's more to it than just kissing someone you love, of course.”
“But it is a thing.” Charlie had seemed extremely pleased with that and stuck out her tongue at Sam. “Don't try to discredit the 'power of love' crap.”
Sam had sighed and sat back down to return to his research.
The irony hadn't been lost on Rowena when the codex had been translated and she discovered that an entity of love had been a part of the equation to curing Dean.
Dean set a hand on Castiel's shoulder and gently shook him. “Hey, you still with us, man?”
Castiel groaned and blinked open his eyes. “I... yes?”
Dean patted Castiel's shoulder, taking in a breath of relief. “Glad to hear it. Now... wait a-” Dean's head snapped towards Rowena and then to Sam. His eyes narrowed as he started, “Osculum is Latin for...” He pointed at Sam and then at the door. Sam seemed to take the hint to leave the room, so Dean turned to Rowena and said, “Don't try anything funny. I've got my eyes on you.”
Dean joined Sam at the doorway, flicking his gaze occasionally over his shoulder to Rowena and Castiel as he went. Standing in front of Sam, Dean harshly whispered, “Are you out of your mind?”
Sam shrugged and looked to Rowena. He kept his voice low. “It came up before, but we didn't look any deeper because we couldn't use it. I don't know the details, but Rowena said it could work to counter a lot of spells. If she thinks it can work now...”
“You're seriously considering it.” Dean shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “True love's kiss? You know that crap is written to romanticize fairy tales.”
“Charlie wanted to believe in it,” Sam stated, swallowing hard.
Dean had already berated Sam about Castiel's and Charlie's involvement with Rowena and the removal of the Mark before, so as much as he wanted to remind Sam that Charlie would still be believing in it if Sam had burned the Book of the Damned like he was supposed to or if she had been watched properly or... he huffed and knew that wasn't the problem to address right now. Not again, after Sam already felt so guilty.
“But is it real? How much can we trust Rowena on this when she's screwed us over before?” Dean asked, eyeing the witch-in-question warily.
Sam said, “I can get her to write down the spell, work on getting the ingredients, and we can research what the contents of the spell are... maybe see if there are any negative reactions between them to ensure she's not working to deceive us.”
Dean looked to Castiel, unmoving and quiet in his chair. “Does Cas have that sort of time though?”
“If you want to make sure, then he has to wait. He's strong, Dean. We've seen humans die of Rowena's spell in hours.” Sam clenched his jaw. “Cas isn't human.”
“But it's been, what? A full day for Cas?” Dean pointed out. He snapped at Rowena, “Witch! Front and center.”
She sashayed over with a thin-lipped smile. “Yes, sir, what can a do for you?”
“Give us the details of the spell.”
“Well, it requires various parts of mostly flowers,” Rowena started. “Obviously witch-hazel, primrose, jasmine, honeysuckle, rose, ah, red specifically, cloves-”
“Are we making a bouquet?” Dean asked, shaking his head.
Sam said, “They're all symbolic. Eternal love. Unconditional love. Bonds of love...”
Dean shot Sam a look that said he'd make fun of Sam for knowing that later. He turned his focus back to Rowena. “You said it required blood. What are we talking here?”
Rowena nodded. “Not much dear. Unless the love is one-sided, it'll require a bit more heart to give the spell its power. It must come from the one that he holds most dear.”
While Sam looked at Dean expectantly , Dean's gaze fell to Cas still slumped over in his chair. The next words that came from Dean's mouth made Sam groan in protest. “So, if this is real , guess we gotta find Cas's one true love.”
“You're joking, right?” Sam retorted.
“What?” Dean asked, shrugging. “It's not like he talks much about his personal life. I have no idea what's-”
“It's you, Dean,” Sam interrupted with a pointed finger. “Don't you dare try to reason it away. That man... that celestial being loves you, Dean.”
Dean's face started to take on a shade of red that Rowena found interestingly charming if she didn't find these petulant boys so infuriating.
Dean cleared his throat and looked away. “I... I'm not denying that.”
“You're not?” Sam blinked.
“No, but we're talking true love here. That's not – I've put him through a ton of crap, and I don't see a true love in the cards for that.”
“That's just it though,” Sam said, “Despite the crap that you've done, he's still here. He's a brother-in-arms, like family, whatever you want to call it, but there is no one that Cas holds more dear than you. Just think about it, Dean. Think really hard. I'd stake my life on it.”
Rowena cleared her throat and pointed to Castiel back in the room. “I don't mean to interrupt a potential self-revelation, but I do believe the angel is trying to catch your attention.”
Castiel was struggling with the cuffs at his wrist and groaning Dean's name until the hunter came back into the room and knelt before him. The angel was still sweating profusely, his wild hair sticking to his forehead and curling around the tips of his ears. “Dean,” he whispered, opening his reddened eyes to try to focus on Dean.
“Hey, I'm here. We've got something that might work.” Dean patted Castiel's knee reassuringly. “Just hang tight.”
“I'm an angel, Dean,” Castiel uttered, giving a small smirk. “You two always forget that I can hear you... even in this state.”
“Oh... uh...”
Castiel coughed, straining against the chair, and squeezed his eyes shut. He took in a deep breath and returned his shaky gaze to Dean. “What can I say to prove my love that won't drive you away, Dean?”
Dean listened to Castiel's heavy and labored breaths, watched his fingers clench around the armrests, felt the spazzing muscles in his leg brushing against his arm. “None of you gave up on me when I became a demon, and you guys didn't stop in finding a way to rid me of the Mark. I don't know if this will even work, Cas, but I suppose it's worth a shot. If it's going to work though, I don't need an explanation ordrawn-out confession. Just tell me. I'm not going anywhere, Cas.” Dean stared intently at Castiel until his gaze was fully returned. “Should I be the one doing this spell for you?”
Castiel swallowed, and without looking away, he answered simply, “Yes.”
Dean nodded and rubbed Castiel's knee while he stood back up. He turned to Sam and Rowena with a small flourish. “Let's get started then.”
Sam was putting the last of the dry ingredients – slivers, chunks, grounds, and smashed stuff – into a bowl as Dean glanced at Rowena. “Incantation?” Dean asked.
Rowena stood resolutely off to the side and gave him a small nod. “'Vacat vobis liberum' after the kiss.”
Luckily for them, the stock room had most of what they needed, and what they were missing they had found in the kitchen. Sam was mildly surprised that the Men of Letters carried so many varieties of the necessary flowers. Saved them the hassle of overspending at a florist or raiding someone's garden or leaving the bunker at all, for that matter. They were able to keep Castiel and Rowena close while they gathered the components and set everything up on a table in the room.
Dean held out his arm and took in a deep breath, sliding a blade across his palm. He hissed at the sting of the metal cutting into his flesh – he mused briefly that he would think they'd be used to this pain by now. Blood filled his hand and pooled in the wrinkled lines before dripping off the edges and into the bowl; Dean curled his fingers into his palm as he turned his wrist, digging against the broken skin to pump more blood through the wound. He tried to ignore the sounds of Castiel battling against Rowena's attack dog spell, the jittering cuffs and groaned breaths between clenched teeth. The blood filled the bowl enough to cover the dry components of the spell completely. He grabbed the nearby rag and quickly wrapped his hand and tucked the cloth into itself; he'd properly bandage it later.
“So... 'per os patris nostri dilecti tui' ...” Sam held up the paper that Rowena had written down the spell on. “'Through the mouth of your beloved'... Is that the kiss part?”
Rowena nodded and pointed at the bowl. “The inflicted must receive the blood through the mouth of their beloved.”
“What the Hell does that mean?” Dean asked, warily eying the red liquid.
“It's the kiss, you ninny,” Rowena clarified with a flip of her hair. “You need to transfer the blood from your mouth to his. Just... don't you swallow any of it. That's his part.”
“I have to put this in my mouth?!” Dean blanched and glared at Sam and Rowena. “I... ugh. Is it too late to put this in a shake or something?”
Sam frowned and shook his head. “You know adding more ingredients will change the spell.”
“Cas!” Dean barked, and he watched Castiel's head snap up suddenly, the angel blinking and groaning at the too-fast movement. “Did you get those instructions? I am not keeping this-” Dean indicated the bowl full of blood. “-in my mouth longer than I need to. So... here goes nothing.”
Sam watched Dean pick up the bowl and tip his head back. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. As Dean set the bowl down, cheeks slightly puffed, he looked pale and ready to throw up.
It was blood and smashed up flower bits, and it tasted vile in Dean's mouth. Dean moved around the table and quickly took Castiel's jaw in his hands. Castiel's eyes were closed, head tilted back and mouth already slightly parted. Dean bent at the waist above him and pressed his lips to Castiel's. He opened his mouth just enough for the blood mixture to dribble between his lips, and he felt Castiel adjust to seal his mouth more firmly with Dean's. Castiel's mouth moved as he swallowed, breathing deeply through his nose.
Sam thought that this was one of the strangest kisses he'd ever seen. His brother leaning over Castiel, body rigged and eyes squeezed shut, and a sickly angel, bound to a chair and fingers gripping the armrests tightly. It looked like a kiss, but Castiel was in so much pain and Dean was poised to bolt at any second. For the briefest of moments, Sam saw them both relax into it, Dean's fingers curling back to Castiel's ears, before his brother pulled away.
“Vacat vobis liberum,” Dean whispered, slowly dropping his hands away from Castiel's face and stepping back to stand upright.
Castiel gasped loudly, pitching forward so forcefully that he probably would have toppled over the chair had it not been bolted to the floor. When he threw his head back, his throat was glowing, the light spreading to his chest, up to his mouth, to his eyes.
“Cas!” Dean shouted, squinting in the bright light. He looked over his shoulder at Rowena. “What's going on?!”
“I don't know,” Rowena admitted, “I've never done the spell!”
Sam's eyes widened, and he roughly grabbed her by the arm. “You couldn't have told us that before?!”
Castiel was groaning loudly, strangled sobs escaping his glowing mouth as his body was wracked with harsh spasms.
Dean reached forward, catching Castiel's face between his hands again. “Stay with us, Cas!”
Sam shoved Rowena against the wall, gripping both of her arms. “What did you do?”
Rowena scoffed, squinting in the brightening light. “What did I do?! Dean's the one that cast the spell. I don't know. Maybe the spell doesn't have an angel equivalent.”
“Cas!” Dean called again, his voice pitching over to panic.
The light was suddenly gone from Castiel's body, and the angel went quiet and slumped over. Dean dropped to his knees in front of Castiel, shaking his shoulders and patting his cheeks.
“Come on, Cas,” Dean breathed. “You can't tell a guy he's your true love and just check out.” He chuckled weakly. “We still have to have the awkward talk.”
Castiel chuckled lightly back, raising his head to meet Dean's eyes. “Hey, Dean.” He gave a lop-sided smile.
Dean's face visibly relaxed, a wide smile spreading across his cheeks. “How do you feel, buddy?”
“Like I could sleep for three days,” Castiel answered, pushing back to sit upright in the chair.
“The spell?” Dean asked and stood up.
The angel nodded, taking in a steady breath. “It feels like it worked.”
“Good,” Dean said, relieved. “We were worried there for a bit.”
Castiel shifted in the seat, trying to stretch his legs. “I was, too. The... vera amoris osculum spell was stronger than I had anticipated. My grace started attacking it, and then I felt like it was trying to drive me out of my vessel... I think the human blood agitated my angel coding, and I had a momentary panic attack.” He paused to smile at Dean. “Then I found you in it. I can't feel Rowena's spell burrowing anymore.”
“That was quite the display,” Rowena chirped next to Sam. “Glad it worked out for you. Now, how about getting these cuffs off and letting me go?”
Sam shook his head. “Oh, no. That's not how this is going to work.”
Ultimately, the brothers had made Rowena take Castiel's place in the chair, wanting to hold her for a little while longer to ensure that there were no ill effects and just for being such a bitch – well, she had been rather helpful, but with her own agenda, they feared they'd never trust the conniving woman.
Dean was helping Castiel into a free bed in the bunker. Dean pulled off Castiel's shoes for him, and Castiel settled under the blanket, pulling it up over his shoulders.
“Thank you, Dean.”
The hunter nodded to the angel curled up on his side in the bed, so fragile-looking and absolutely drained. “Guess you'll be coming to us first from now on?”
“I was afraid I'd hurt you,” Castiel admitted.
“Hasn't stopped either of us from pommeling the crap out of each other.” Dean pulled the chair that was by the door over to the bed and sat down in it. “As long as we can forgive each other afterward?”
“I'm sorry.”
“I'm sorry, too, man.”
Castiel shifted under the covers, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “I forgive you, Dean.”
Dean reached out an arm and rubbed Castiel's shoulder through the blanket. “You should get some rest. I'll watch over you.”
Castiel peeked at Dean with the blanket bunched around his neck. “You told me that was creepy.”
“How long was it before you finally stopped? I'm pretty sure you had to have your grace taken away, so that you physically couldn't do it anymore,” Dean joked lightly, leaning back in his chair.
Castiel gave a small smirk. “I'll have to get back to my old creeping routine when I feel like myself again.” Sleepily, he added, “I've missed watching you, Dean.”
Dean just smiled and crossed his arms over his chest to rest back in the chair. A half-hour later when the light snores signaled that the exhausted angel had fallen asleep, Dean leaned forward again to run his fingers gently through Castiel's wild hair. “Please, don't stop fighting for me, Cas,” he whispered.