"The angels. They're falling."

Castiel stood at the edge of the forest, a sharp wind biting at his skin as he squinted up at the sky, unable to fully comprehend the sight before him. Orbs of light trailing from the clouds in eerie droves - not just here he knew, but all over the planet.

Civilians would perceive this as an extraordinary sight, some sort of amazing meteor shower. The angels would be moving too fast to be seen in any detail. A tear rolled down his cheek as he imagined the plight of his brothers and sisters, their majestic wings ablaze as they plummeted rapidly toward the earth. He knew that by the time their craters were discovered they would be long gone, desolately wandering the planet unaware of what they had done to deserve being cast from their home.

He tore his eyes away from the horrendous spectacle. He didn't need to see any more of it, he needed to fix it. He wiped his eyes and lightly touched two fingers to his neck. There was no sign of the tear through which Metatron had robbed him of his grace. His existence as angel. His identity.

A spark of anger surged through him as he bitterly remembered the advice he had been given, to go out and start a family. He scoffed at the hilarity of the concept. No. He was going to find the Winchesters straight away, and with their help repair the damage he had caused.

With a jolt he realized he had no idea where to start. He didn't know where they would go, and he certainly didn't know where he was. He looked around, finding himself to be surrounded by trees. No indication of which country he was in. I was a very real possibility that he was miles away from the nearest road.

He fished in his pocket and relief washed over him as he pulled out he battered cell phone. With his luck he had expected to have lost it, or for the battery to be dead. He opened it and it lit up, thank goodness. His call log revealed he had only called one number, and he rang it, praying Dean still had his.

After a few rings a gruff, shaky voice picked up.

"Castiel! Cas, is that you?"

"Yes Dean" he kept his reply short, not trusting his voice to hold out.

Dean stumbled over his words, speaking so fast Castiel had a hard time keeping up. "Dammit Cas, I thought you'd be up… all the… Cas what the hell's happening? Did you… were you involved in this?"

Castiel swallowed. He couldn't tell Dean over the phone. He was disgusted with himself over what had happened, Dean would likely react in the same way, if not worse. He needed to think about how he would explain it, persuade the brothers to help him rectify it.

"Naomi was right. The angels have been cast from heaven by Metatron." He said simply. "I need to know where you are, so we can reunite."

"That Bastard" Dean said, and Castiel heard a muffled groan and some soothing mumbling before Dean spoke again. "We're headed back to the bunker. Sammy's not holding up too well. Where are you now Cas?"

Castiel sighed, loathe to admit his situation.

"I'm uncertain… whereabouts I am at the moment, asides from knowing I'm on earth."

"Dammit." Dean growled under his breath. "Right. Um. Cas you gotta walk until you see a sign, or a person, we can't track your GPS yet since we're in the car. We'll get Kevin to do it, but it might take a while and there's a chance you could find out quicker."

"I'll call you back when I get information" Cas concluded, snapping the phone shut. He didn't want to give Dean the opportunity to realize he was to blame here. Not until he could explain.

He put the phone back in his pocket and shivered, pulling the edges of his coat together. He was definitely human now. Drawing his arms round his chest, and clamping his teeth shut to stop them from chattering, he began to trudge forward, through the field towards the part of the forest that seemed thinnest.

His feet felt heavy as he walked, and after a while his legs began to cramp and his head ached. He longed for the ability to fly to the bunker in a matter of milliseconds, instead of trekking through a cold forest, thirst and fatigue already starting to catch up with him.

He deserved it, he supposed, for being so naive.

He had been walking for perhaps an hour, he hadn't felt the need to check, when he stumbled through the treeline onto a dark, straight road. He stopped, leaning against a tree. All he could do now was wait until a car drove past. He was too tired to walk along the road any further.

Not a minute later, a pair of headlights flickered into view in the distance. At least now he seemed to be in luck. He pushed himself off the tree, standing on the edge of the road with a hand extended. He shielded his eyes as he was illuminated by the headlights as the car got close, but suddenly it had passed him, showing no signs of stopping. It was going faster, if anything as sped into the darkness, leaving Castiel alone at the side of the road.

A pang of sadness went through him as the road returned to silence, the hum of the car dwindling out as the headlights faded. What if nobody stopped? He must look a sight, bedraggled and standing at the edge of a forest in the middle of the night.

Dejected, he slumped against the tree and slid down it onto the ground, bring his legs up and crossing his arms on them. If the Winchesters sided against him after they heard what happened, he had nobody. Nobody on earth. He thought of Balthazar and Anna, of Inias and even Uriel and all of his friends that were now, no more. His eyes welled up again and he buried his face in his arms, wishing he block everything out.

After some time, a loud rumbling brought him back from thoughts, and before he could register what was happening a large lorry, loaded with crates, was barrelling down the road. He jumped up, determined not to let the driver pass him by, but it was already slowing as he clamoured to his feet. It rolled to a halt beside him.

The driver's window opposite him rolled to, revealing a portly man with a beard, red baseball cap and a plaid lumberjack shirt. Castiel mused that he could pass for a Winchester before shaking himself out of it. He was in a serious situation. He walked closer to the window, looking up at the man.

"Excuse me, sorry to be a bother, and thank you for stopping… but do could you tell me where I am?"

Castiel realised how bad this sounded just after he said it, but there was no way to sugar coat it really.

The man looked at him for a few seconds, mouth open as if unsure what to say, if the strange man out on the road in the middle of who-know-where during the night was for real.

"Please"

The man shut his mouth and made up his mind.

"Well, you're in Oklahoma, son." He said, taking his hap off and exhaling, rubbing a hand over his bald head. He took another look at Castiel.

"Do you need a ride somewhere? You seem to be in a pretty bad shape."

Castiel smiled, surprised at the offer.

"If you don't mind, I would be extremely grateful."

The man studied Castiel for a few more seconds, before gesturing to the seat beside him.

"Come on round. I'm headed for Stillwater, if that's any use to you."

Castiel stepped around the front of the vehicle, opening the door and climbing in, leaving a seat between them. He must look suspicious after all.

"Thank you for this." He said, as the man rolled up the window and continued driving down the road. "Do you mind if I make a phone call?" he enquired, pulling out his phone.

"Uh, go ahead."

Castiel dialled Dean's number, and he picked up a few rings later.

"Dean."

"Hey Cas, we couldn't get through to Kevin so we haven't tracked you by GPS yet. How're you holding up?"

"I'm in Oklahoma."

"Oh thank God" Dean cut in. "America. Not just America, like, near us for once"

"Yes I think I was dropped near the location I was in last, the church." Castiel glanced over to the driver, remembering he could say very little. "I've been offered a lift to Stillwater."

"Perfect, finally something today is in our favour." Dean replied. "We've been driving from Texas towards Kansas, we're in Wichita now. We can pick you up at Stillwater and make our way back to the bunker together."

"Thank you, Dean. How's Sam?"

There was a pause.

"Much the same. The important thing is he's not getting any worse. We can deal with it when we get to the bunker."

There was another pause, Castiel unsure of how to finish the conversation.

"I'll ring you when we get to Stillwater."

"Okay Dean"

The line went dead, and Castiel pocketed the phone. He was surprised that things seemed to be going his way, for now. Maybe if they were lucky they could figure out a way to put heaven back to right as well.

A voice brought him out of his current chain of thought.

"So you meeting your friend in Stillwater then?"

The driver was looking at him expectantly.

"Yes." He couldn't think of anything else to say, but the driver spoke again thankfully.

"Pardon my asking, but it's a bit odd to find someone just sitting at the side of the road so deep into the forest. Something happen to you?"

Castiel saw the concern in the man's eyes, it wasn't an accusation.

"I went on a bender. Again." He said simply, hoping the term would be suffice to explain his situation.

The man tutted beside him, glancing at him in confusion. Castiel wondered if people did not usually return from benders covered in dirt and leaves and tears. He pulled the sleeve of his trenchcoat over his hand and wiped the wetness off his cheeks, realizing he had probably only succeeded in coated his face with even more dirt.

A tissue was held out to him then, and he took it off the driver, murmuring thanks.

"Dennis." The man said, and Castiel realised he was offering him his name. He lamented briefly on the fact he could no longer look into this man's soul and know his surname, the names of his family members and everything he had done in his life up until this point.

"Cas."

"What's that short for?"

"Nothing. I'm just Cas."

The man turned his eyes once again to the straight road ahead. Castiel did likewise, noting the sky was no longer illuminated by the charred wings of his siblings.

"You see that meteor shower earlier on? It sure was something. Apparently it happened all over the world! Scientists think something far out in space must have exploded, you know? And the whole planet was showered with the bits and pieces. No-one's ever seen anything like it!"

Castiel took a shuddering breath, composing himself. "Yes, it was…. Extraordinary."

The man nodded, turning on the radio. He must realize Castiel wasn't a talker, and he was thankful. He liked the company, but also liked the silence.

A few hours in, they stopped at a small shop at the side of the road, a seven eleven he thought he had once heard Dean refer to it as. He stayed in the truck as the driver filled the gas tank and went inside. He was pleasantly surprised when the driver handed him a bag upon his return, containing a bottle of water, a sandwich and some crisps.

"Heard your belly rumbling for the past ten minutes boy," he said. "Dunno what your story is but I figure some TLC wouldn't be so bad for you."

Castiel had no idea what TLC was, but accepted the bag and thanked Dennis numerous times before wolfing it all down, realising how much he had needed it. I was odd, that he would need to eat and drink regularly for the foreseeable future.

He didn't even realised he had fallen asleep until he was being shaken awake.

"We're in Stillwater. Rise and shine."

Castiel sat up, looking around blearily. The town was empty, as was expected given the sun hadn't risen yet.

"I thought I should drop you at the centre of town, seeing as I need to drive up to the warehouse to drop these off. You can walk most places from here and your friend can find you easy enough."

"Yes, thank you Dennis." He opened the door and hopped out into the crisp morning air. He walked round to the driver's window where Dennis had an arm hanging out.

"I really appreciate the lift, and the meal. Thank you so much"

"No problem, Cas." He replied. "You take care of yourself now."

He waved to Castiel before driving off down the road again, honking the horn once.

Castiel wandered over to the bench and sat down there, pulling out his cell phone.

"Dean." He said when Dean picked up. " I've arrived in Stillwater."

"Great. Hang tight, we'll be there soon."

Castiel hung up and pocketed the phone, a sense of dread settling over his stomach. He'd have to tell Dean exactly how Metatron closed heaven, how he had done the trials to help. And await his verdict. He could very well abandon Castiel there and then. Castiel regretted eating that sandwich as he contemplated it.

He sat and wrung his hands, his insides twisting as he waited. He hoped he could go back to the bunker. He really hoped they would help him. Understand he hadn't meant any of it to happen.

The sun was rising and cars started to appear around the town as the impala purred up opposite Castiel. Dean stopped it, and Castiel could see him twisting round and speaking to Sam in the passenger seat, who seemed very unwell.

Castiel shoved his hands deep into his pockets and crossed the road as Dean opened his door.

"Cas" he said with a smile, patting him on the shoulder as they met. "Glad to see you in one piece, am I right?"

Castiel nodded curtly.

"Okay man, well I need to grab some painkillers for Sam… I don't know if they'll help any. And some food before we head toward the bunker. Down the way you just came ironically." Dean bent down and surveyed Sam. "Want anything else?"

Sam turned his head and shook it. "I need some fresh air" he said weakly.

"Okay, sure you can sit on the bench with Cas while I'm run and get that stuff." Sam opened the door and Dean jogged round to get him out of the car. They both straightened up, Sam's arm draped over Dean's shoulder and made to walk towards Cas.

Only they didn't.

They stood rigid, staring at Cas, Dean's eyes flashing with anger and Sam just looking terrified. Castiel froze, unsure of what was going on.

"Hello, Castiel" came a voice from behind him.

He spun round, eyes wild as he focused on Metatron, standing meekly behind him.

"Met…" he tried, but before he could finish the word, a heavy blow landed I his gut, causing him to gasp and double over. He was yanked back up by the collar with strength that seemed unnatural for the small man before Castiel remember that he, at least, was still an angel.

A cold blade settled on his throat as Metatron leaned his mouth to his ear, holding him in place from behind.

"Really, Castiel?" Metatron purred. "Really?"

"Look, you son of a bitch…" Dean started from the other side of the car, but Metatron held up a hand.

"Be quiet, Dean, or I'll kill all three of you. I have no reason not too, really." He chuckled and rotated the blade on Castiel's throat. Castiel clenched his fists, determined not to react.

"Castiel, I thought I made myself clear when I told, no, suggested that you find a wife and make babies. A nice, normal human family. That does human things. Nice things." His hand was stroking Castiel's hair as he spoke, but he suddenly grabbed a clump and pulled, forcing Castiel's head upward. He practically spat the next sentence in Castiel's ear, his voice a dangerous hiss.

"I did not say, that you should go find the Winchesters and plot to seek revenge on me, and undo all my hard work in heaven." He dug the point of the knife into the corner of Castiel's neck, blood welling up from the spot.

Castiel locked eyes with Dean, who looked as helpless as he felt, like a deer in headlight.

"But since you couldn't do what you were told Castiel, as always, when I asked nicely, well…. We'll just have to make you do it."

Castiel glared up at Metatron best he could, as he continued to speak. "It seems that no matter what I do, Castiel, you seem to ignore me…. So I need a way to stop you altogether…" Castiel's eyes widened and he began to struggle.

"No, no, no, don't be silly, I'm not going to kill you." He said in a singsong voice. "Something better. Something just as wonderful as my last idea."

Castiel stilled. He didn't like this. This sounded like something Gabriel would say. And that never ended well, for him.

"But first" Metatron said, looking at Sam and Dean. He held a hand up towards them and suddenly, every window around them smashed, showering them with glass. The impala's windows exploded, the alarm went off and the lights starting flashing. Amidst the confusion, Castiel heard Sam yell, and saw him slide out of Dean's grip onto the sidewalk. He heard Dean shout "SAM" and then, just as soon as it had started, everything went quiet.

With a click of his fingers, the glass was gone, all the windows intact, as if nothing had happened. Dean stood up, angry.

"What the hell do you just do!?" he snarled, but suddenly Sam stood up.

"Dean, I… I feel better."

Dean stopped, staring at Sam.

"Yes, I couldn't have you two closing Hell now, could I?" Metatron interjected. "I need Hell. So I'm sorry but I've just undone the last two and a half trials you completed. All that energy, gone!"

Sam and Dean stood, dumbstruck, not sure if this was a bad or good thing.

"Now" he said. "Castiel."

Castiel swallowed. He imagined being blown to pieces by Raphael, by Lucifer. He imagined being sent to Hell, to the pit from which he pulled Dean when he was an angel. Endless torture, in Heaven or Hell surely awaited him. Metatron would need him out of the way, so he couldn't gather followers, mutiny against Metatron, open Heaven.

He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily, and blood trickled down his neck from the knife point.

"Castiel. Since you couldn't make something wonderful, something to tell me about in your Heaven when your soul arrives, I… I'm going to make you into something wonderful."

Castiel stopped breathing for a second. What?

"You can't stay away from these two, useless, brothers. So they can keep you. A family of sorts. You can all live your lives to the fullest, for me. You'll have to."

Castiel opened his eyes, confused. This was making no sense.

"Something wonderful." Metatron mused, laying a hand over Castiel's eyes.

Castiel gasped as everything went white, hearing the brothers gasp but noticing it felt very far away. Pain engulfed him, and his ears were ringing and he stiffened and tried to squirm away from Metatron.

What was happening!?

He felt his stomach twist again, and his muscles all seemed to spasm at the same time, leaving him kicking and hitting out at the strong arms holding him in place.

After an age, it died down, leaving him panting and limp in the angel's grasp.

He opened an eye and saw the Winchesters staring at him horrified. What had Metatron done? Was he mutilated? Was he a ghost? Human, even?

His eyes moved around, and everything seemed too bright.

"Hush, now." Came a booming voice from above him, and he jumped. It sounded as if Metatron was using a megaphone, or some other human contraption that distorts the voice horribly.

Why was the angel above him? He couldn't feel the ground against his knees the way he should. Did he even have legs? He was panicking, he realised. He tried to gather his thoughts, but they were fuzzy, reeling from the pain and other strange sensations. He felt closed in, surrounded.

All of a sudden he was on top of the impala, between Metatron and the Winchesters. How did he even get there?

He tried to sit up but couldn't move correctly. He must be badly injured, if he couldn't even feel it. He laboriously turned his head away from the brothers and their disbelief, and towards Metatron, who was gazing at him fondly. He must like to appreciate his sick handiwork Castiel thought.

Metatron stepped towards him, and lightly set a hand on his head. He braced himself for the pain but felt nothing. A hand closed around his.

"He remembers everything, don't you?" Metatron said. Sam's breath caught in response.

"Everything is still inside that head, and you know what Castiel? It'll stay there. Inaccessible. I figured this was the only way I could let you live. Aside from wiping your memory but then you're not really you and there are ways around that."

He stroked Castiel's hair, and Castiel tried to swat him away but his coordination was gone.

"This way, you'll keep the Winchesters busy too. Their baby in a trenchcoat" he chuckled.

Castiel growled, remembering that jibe from when he was powerless. Only that was Eve and she left. This time, he was human and staying that way.

Metatron laughed at his growl, which didn't sound right even to his own ears. His larynx must be damaged as well.

"Oh you're so cute!" he pinched his cheek and Castiel tried to hit him, but instead thumped his hand on to the roof of the impala, causing his eyes to well up. Well up? His nerve ending must have been hyper sensitized.

"Do you realize what I've done, Castiel?" Metatron cooed, stroking his cheek. He shied away, confused at the sudden abundance of affection. He narrowed his eyes at the older angel. He didn't want to know what damage he had done, or how it was wonderful, how that worked Castiel had no idea.

"Come here." Metatron said, sliding a hand under his back and bracing his head. He pulled him up to a sitting position and Castiel gasped.

His trenchcoat was draped over the car, empty, and when he looked down he saw the outline of a pair of tiny feet reaching not even halfway down the shirt.

No.

That couldn't be right.

He reached his hands up to his face to look at them. Closer inspection revealed two tiny, pudgy hands wobbling in his vision. He tried flexed them and they wiggled helplessly. They were his hands for sure.

He looked up a Metatron with fearful eyes, and he nodded encouragingly at him.

"That is right" he said. "Don't look so horrified, of course we'll arrange a change of clothes, these don't fit any more."

Castiel moaned in exasperation, but it came out as a high-pitched whine, followed by an involuntary hiccup.

"Brother, brother. This is for the best. For me. But also for you! You wouldn't make a miracle, so now you are the miracle, my miracle."

He lay him back down gently and stepped back.

"Don't think so negatively, Castiel. We angels never experienced a time with no responsibilities, you should enjoy it. Infants aren't so bad."

Then he was gone, the slight breeze blowing Castiel's soft hair across his face.

There was a long, tension filled silence, where Sam and Dean stared at Castiel, lying on the roof of the impala, and he stared back at them, standing motionlessly together on the sidewalk.

"…Sam?" Dean ventured after a while.

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Metatron turned Castiel into a fucking baby."