A/N: I do not know how to deal with Dean being a demony demon so he's just Dean ...who so happens to be a demon. I don't know how exactly the show's going to play this, but I'm guessing not like this.
"Castiel," Hannah said, stepping through the doorway of Metatron's office, where he was, ostensibly, hiding. Her lips were set in a wary frown, whether because of the news she was about to offer or because she'd walked in on him brushing tears from his cheeks, Castiel didn't know. Regardless, she looked uncertain whether or not to continue.
"Hannah?" He prompted, as he drew himself up and tried his best not to look like the puffy eyed, grieving mess that he was.
Hannah hesitated a moment longer before reporting: "Sam Winchester has found the location of the portal. He is waiting below demanding that Metatron let him in or you out."
"That Metatron...?" Castiel started to question before briefly shutting his eyes. "Of course. He doesn't know what happened here. I, uh, I will go to him."
Wearily, he made his way back to the portal, ignoring the questioning glances of the angels that, now that Metatron was imprisoned, had once again decided to be his followers. He did not know what to do about them nor did he know what he would do about Sam.
He suspected that Sam wanted him to save Dean. He wished that Sam had realized that were it in his power, he already would have. Without his wings, he could not penetrate the veil of Heaven or Hell. Even with wings, with his grace fading more and more, he did not know what of Dean he could even heal.
Of course, he thought sullenly, he'd rather spend all of his remaining grace on Dean than endure eternity without him. Eternity had never seemed so long -so long and so empty. With Dean gone, Castiel found he no longer wanted it.
Really, he didn't want anything.
He'd done what he needed to fix the mistakes that he had so foolishly made with his naivete. The angels had returned to Heaven. They knew the truth about Metatron. Metatron was securely behind bars.
He found, though, that in accomplishing this, he had ultimately lost something more important than that which Metatron had initially taken.
To him, losing Dean made finding Heaven's entrance, breaking the angel tablet, and imprisoning Metatron all seem a Pyrrhic victory. For without Dean, he was cast adrift in the sea of the universe, and no longer had a compass which pointed north.
He found, too, that metaphors about lost loves, which he'd barely grasped before as he mulled over Metatron's endless volumes of stories, were beginning to make far too much sense.
He was hopelessly, undeniably human with grief.
It terrified him.
For it told him more than ever that which he had long suspected; he was no longer completely an angel no matter how much he may have wanted to be.
He didn't want to be, though. Not really.
He wanted what he couldn't have: to be human and be with Dean.
However, only as an angel could he hope to keep his debilitating and crushing feelings about Dean at bay. Of course, for all he knew, his bond with Dean went beyond angelic boundaries now, and even with his own grace, he would feel human emotion on its fullest spectrum when it came to him.
There was a part of him that was glad that he was about to meet with the one being that would be completely empathetic to how he felt.
Except he knew that Sam hadn't come simply to share his woeful company.
He lighted on the playground, with the sight of Sam sitting in the driver's seat of the Impala confirming what he already knew. Dean was really gone.
His insides twisted painfully. Everything was wrong, and he was so very lost.
He tried to move towards the Impala, but his legs were filled with lead. Dean wasn't behind that wheel, and he couldn't bear it.
Sam gave him a look filled with bone weary frustration before beginning to approach him.
Cas barely managed to choke out Sam's name before he was wrapped tightly in the other man's arms. His arms flailed in surprise before he reached up to hug Sam back. "I don't...I don't understand..."
"I'm glad you're okay," Sam said earnestly. "We didn't know what happened up there."
"But I'm not okay, Sam," Cas said. "The angels still want me to lead them, my grace is fading, and Metatron told me that Dean was...he showed me the blade covered in Dean's blood. I can't help him, Sam. I'm sorry."
"Stealing another angel's grace isn't taboo to them anymore?" Sam asked, raising an eye. Then he waved his hand dismissively. "Nevermind. About Dean...Cas, it's not what you think."
Cas narrowed his eyes at Sam. "Then what is it?"
"He's not dead, not exactly. I think I'll let Dean explain," Sam said.
"Dean?" Cas repeated, feeling suddenly dizzy.
"Yeah, he's in the trunk," Sam said. He rolled his eyes. "He insisted that I put him in the trunk."
"Dean's in the car?" Cas asked. He swayed on his feet slightly, and Sam caught him under the arm, with a look of questioning concern.
"Yeah," Sam said before tugging him towards the Impala. "Come on."
Cas startled when the trunk popped open with a resounding click, realizing that he'd been staring into the middle distance.
He looked up to see the most welcome pair of green eyes blinking at him in greeting. Relief washed over him before Dean pleaded with him. "Cas...stay away from me. I'm not...I'm not me."
Cas ignored the warning and immediately darted forward only for Dean's eyes to shift to a void of black, betraying what he was, why he was being held beneath the devil's trap drawn into the Impala's trunk.
Cas' heart clenched.
"Dean. No."
Cas felt lightheaded in a way he hadn't since he'd been human, and his vision went gray at the edges.
Dean and Sam's voices filtered back in slowly.
"Sammy, I'm telling you, he fainted," Dean said defensively.
"I don't think I said anything," Sam said.
"You didn't need to say anything," Dean said.
"Well, I really don't think you did anything to him. Because the most demony thing you've done so far is turn your eyes black. But, Dean, you are the one who wanted me to lock you up in there because you were such a danger to everyone and everything. Are you saying you're only a danger to me now, not Cas?" Sam said.
"Well, you don't exactly have angel mojo to protect you," Dean said. "He does."
"Well, I'm not the one who fainted," Sam said.
"I...fainted?" Cas asked as he tried to sit up, only to hit his head against the trunk. Apparently he'd fallen in next to Dean. He moaned.
"There he is," Dean said brightly as he gently pulled him upright. "You okay?"
"No," Cas said. "I should not have had such a human reaction to your state of being. I believe the grace is beginning to burn up."
"So your batteries are on extra low, huh?" Dean asked.
"I believe so," Cas said.
"You couldn't have picked a better time," Dean said, clasping his shoulder. "I'm a friggin' knight of hell. You're dying. And Sammy here, well, he gets to deal with us."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Lucky me."
Cas had to admit that the straits were dire. Yet, he found that having been reunited with the Winchesters, he had found his purpose again, his anchor.