Looking at your dad and Dean from the open iron door, you took a deep breath before turning back to the sleeping Sam. Every few hours you would come down here and give him some of your magic. If Amara said she would protect you, then this magic should protect Sam.
Taking the knife, you gripped it tightly before cutting your arm open the same way as you did the first time. Blood poured out and onto the floor, but you ignored it for now. Focusing really hard, your magic swirled from the cut and into the air. Seeing the bright blue color, it reminded you of Anna's grace since they were almost the same shade.
Staring at the magic, you watched it swirl straight for Sam and into his mouth, past his parted lips. Giving away this much magic was taking a toll on you, but you had to do this for Sam. Because of this, you had to give him small dosages every few hours since it took a lot out of you to give him a little.
Once Sam had enough, you placed your hand over your wound before healing it. Looking at his body, you saw the black glow around him get a little lighter in color which meant your magic was doing its job in detoxifying his blood. Maybe that is why you haven't gone darkside yet because your magic protects you from the demon blood inside you. Maybe that's why Azazel wanted you dead because he knew what you were capable of. Setting the knife down, you got up, only to be stopped by Sam's hand grabbing your arm.
"Let go, Sam," you said before ripping your arm from his grasp. Since he was weak, he let go long enough for you to make your escape. Leaving the room, Dean pulled you into his arms as your dad closed the door. Sam groggily got out of bed before trudging to the door.
"I'll give you guys a moment," your dad said before leaving the room. Through the barred window, you saw Sam's defeated look.
"Okay. Let me out. This is not funny," he sighed.
"Damn straight."
"Dean, Y/N, come on. This is crazy."
"No. Not until you dry out. My magic is healing you of it."
"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied to you. Just open the door," he pleaded.
"You don't have to apologize. It's not your fault. It's not your fault that you lied to us over and over again. I get it now. You couldn't help it," Dean shrugged.
"I'm not some junkie," Sam scoffed.
"Really? I guess we've just imagined how strung out you've been lately," you shook your head in disappointment.
"You're actually trying to twist this into some kind of ridiculous drug intervention?"
"If it smells like a duck."
"Dean, Y/N, I'm not drinking the demon blood for kicks. I'm getting strong enough to kill Lilith."
"This is about as far away from strong as you can get. Try weak. Try desperate. Pathetic," Dean growled.
"Killing Lilith is what matters. Or are you so busy being self-righteous you forgot about her?"
"Oh, Lilith's gonna die. Bobby, Y/N, and I will kill her. But not with you."
"You're not serious."
"Congrats, Sammy. You just bought yourself a benchwarmer seat to the apocalypse," you said with a smile.
"Dean, Y/N, look—no, wait—" Dean closed the little window so he didn't have to look at him anymore. Come back here. Dean! Let me out of here!" Sam continued to yell. Dean took your hand before leading you up the stairs back into the house, and when you reached the top step, Dean's face dropped in sadness. "Dean! Let me out of here! Let me out! Dean!"
"He's going to be okay. I'll heal him," you whispered before the two of you joined your dad in the main room where he sat at his desk with three glasses of whiskey. Sam started screaming, and that boy had a pair of lungs on him since you could hear everything he said even from upstairs.
"Stop! Stop!!" Sam screamed.
"I'll take water right now," you whispered as you took a seat with a sigh. Dean left the room to get you a bottle as your father stared at you.
"How do you know this is even working?" Dean came back with a bottle, and you took it graciously.
"I see it happening, I see my magic healing him. I can't explain it, and I don't know when this all started, but I see demons and angels differently now. With demons, there is a black glow around their bodies and the more evil they are, the thicker and blacker it gets. With Sam, that black glow is there, but when I give him my magic, it goes away just a little bit with each dosage.
"I'm not sure why I didn't see Amelia with a black glow, I just assume I'm either not strong enough or she was good at hiding it. With Castiel, Anna, and the other angels, I see a white glow around them. The more pure, the brighter it is. Something happened to Castiel in heaven because when I saw him, that bright glow wasn't as bright as before.
"My magic is healing Sam, it'll just take some time." Sighing for the tenth time, you switched out your bottle for the glass of whiskey. As soon as you grabbed it, you heard Sam yell in pain once more.
"How long do you think this is going to go on?" Dean asked as he accepted the drink. Taking yours, you wince every time Sam yelled in pain. Downing your glass, you held it out for more. As soon as your dad poured you another one, he spoke.
"Here, let me look it up in my demon-detox manual. Oh wait. No one ever wrote one. No telling how long it'll take. Hell, or if Sam will even live through it," he sighed. Wincing once more, the phone started ringing which gave you something else to focus on. "Hello?... Suck dirt and die, Rufus. You call me again, I'll kill you."
"What's up with Rufus?" you asked once he hung up.
"He knows." The phone rang once more before your dad angrily picked it up.
"I'm busy, you son of a bitch. This better be important," he said just as his face fell. Whatever Rufus told him was big, and it wasn't good news.
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After your dad got the information he needed from his friend, he handed the pieces of paper to you and Dean to look over.
"The news, and the news ain't good."
"This is what Rufus called about?" Dean asked as he read what was on the paper. "'Key West sees ten species go extinct'."
"Yep. Plus, Alaska. Fifteen-man fishing crew all stricken blind, cause unknown. New York, teacher goes postal, locks the door, kills exactly sixty-six kids. All this in a single day. I looked them up. There's no doubt about it. They're all seals. Breaking. Fast."
"How many are left?" you asked.
"Who knows? Can't be many. Where the hell are your angel pals?"
"You tell me," you scoffed, remembering the last time you tangled with an angel. Whatever happened to Castiel in Heaven wasn't good.
"I'm just wondering," your dad started thinking, "with the apocalypse being nigh and all... is now really the right time to be having this little domestic drama of ours?"
What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"Well, I don't like this any more than you do, but Sam can kill demons. He's got a shot at stopping Armageddon."
"So, what? Sacrifice Sam's life, his soul, for the greater good? Is that what you're saying? Times are bad, so let's use Sam as a nuclear warhead?"
"Did you really say that to us?" you asked, a bit angry.
"Look, I know you hate me for suggesting it. I hate me for suggesting it. I love that boy like a son. All I'm saying is maybe he's here right now instead of on the battlefield because we love him too much."
"I need some air," you breathed out before leaving the men alone. Walking you to the junk yard you maneuvered through the cars until you knew you were alone. Leaning against one of the cars, you let out a shaky sigh and let a tear fall down.
"Why is this happening?" you asked the night sky. Looking at the ground, you heard the flap of wings, and you knew Castiel was there.
"What do you want?" you asked as you looked up.
"You called for me subconsciously."
"I have nothing to say to you, Castiel. I heard you loud and clear in Illinois. You want nothing to do with me, with Dean, or any other human. We're just a pile of garbage to you."
"That's not it," he said as he walked to you.
"Then what happened? Something happened to you in Heaven. I see it right now. That white glow around you isn't as bright as before."
"You can see that?"
"Yeah, I can also see black around demons. I saw it around Sam, but my magic is purifying him. Amara said—" you cut yourself short as to not give too much away.
"Amara has been speaking to you? She's real?"
"You don't want to tell me what happened up there or what you wanted to tell me in my dream, I'm not saying anything. It's not like you care or anything," you scoffed.
"Y/N, I can't," Castiel sighed. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, right. Like you know what that means," you shook your head.
"What's going on out here?" Dean asked as he joined your side. He wanted to see how you were doing when he spotted the angel.
"Nothing of importance. Right, Castiel?" you asked, staring at him in the eyes. A few moments of silence hung in the air without anyone saying anything. Dean was the one who broke that.
"Can he do it? Can Sam kill Lilith, and stop the apocalypse?"
"Possibly, yes. But as you know, he'd have to take certain steps."
"Crank up the hell-blood regimen."
"Consuming the amount of blood it would take to kill Lilith would change your brother forever. Most likely, he would become the next creature that you would feel compelled to kill. There's no reason this would have to come to pass, Dean. We believe it's you and Y/N, Dean, not your brother. The only question for us is whether you're willing to accept it. Stand up and accept your role. You are the one who will stop it. Both of you."
"If I do this, Sammy doesn't have to?" Dean asked.
"If it gives you comfort to see it that way."
"God, you're an asshole these days," you scoffed. "But I'm in only if Dean says yes."
"Fine, we'll do it."
"You two give yourself over wholly to the service of God and his angels?"
"Yeah, exactly," he said, and you agreed.
"Say it. Both of you."
"I give myself over wholly to serve God and you guys," Dean said as he looked at Castiel.
"I give myself wholly to serve... God and his angels," you sighed.
"You swear to follow his will and his word as swiftly and obediently as you did your own father's?"
"Yes, I swear," you nodded.
"Yes, I swear," Dean repeated. "Now what?"
"Now you wait, and we call on you when it's time," he said right before he disappeared.
"Great, just what we needed," you groaned.
"Come on, let's go back inside," Dean said in a soft voice before leading you back inside to deal with Bobby once you tell him what you two did.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you two willingly signed up to be the angels' bitch?" he said once you came clean. Sam could still be heard from downstairs, but you learned to ignore it now. Looking at your father, you gave him the resting bitch face for calling you a bitch. "I'm sorry. You prefer 'sucker'? After everything you said about them, now you trust them?"
"Come on, give us a little credit, Bobby. I've never trusted them less. I mean, they come on like shady politicians from planet Vulcan."
"Then why in the hell did you—"
"What other options do we have?" you blew up. "It's either we trust the angels or Sam trusts a demon. What would you have done?"
"I see your point," your dad sighed. With no one speaking a word, you focused on Sam, but he was also silent which meant something was happening.
"Do you hear that?" you asked.
"Yeah, that's a little too much nothing," your dad answered. Taking off, you rushed to the basement with your father and Dean on your heels. Running over to the door, you opened the window only to see Sam on the floor, having a seizure.
"What if he's faking?" Dean asked.
"You really think he would?" you looked at him.
"I think he'd do anything." Looking back at Sam, you saw him get lifted up by an invisible force and slammed into the wall.
"That isn't faking," you said as you ripped the door open. Letting Dean and Bobby hold him down, you rushed over to Sam with blue hands. They wrestled with the younger brother before pinning him down to the cot.
"Sam, you're okay," you said as you placed your hands on his head to ease his mind.
"We're gonna have to tie him down for his own safety," your dad said, but Dean stared at his brother and ignored him. "Dean? You with me? Dean! Before he has another fit."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's just get it over with," he sighed. Closing your eyes, you muttered something to get him to calm down. Your magic pulsed to his brain, and with each passing second, he calmed down more and more.
"Tie him up while I have him under," you muttered as you focused on calming him down. Your dad pulled out handcuffs before strapping his wrists and legs down. Pulling your hands away from his head, he was still and slept on the cot.
"Come on, he won't be down for long," Dean said as he left the panic room. Sighing, you followed in his footsteps before you three were back upstairs in the main room.
"I'm gonna ask one more time. Are we absolutely sure we're doing the right thing?" Your dad spoke first.
"Dad, you saw what was happening to him down there. The demon blood is killing him."
"No, it isn't. We are."
"What? Are you crazy? My magic is taking that away from him!"
"I'm sorry. I can't bite my tongue any longer. We're killing him. Keeping him locked up down there. This cold-turkey thing isn't working. If—if he doesn't get what he needs, soon, Sam's not gonna last much longer."
"No. I'm not giving him demon blood. I won't do it," Dean shook his head.
"And if he dies?"
"Then at least he dies human! I would die for him in a second, but I won't let him do this to himself. I can't. I guess I found my line. I won't let my brother turn into a monster."