"We've got to get outta here."
The tires of the Impala screeched on the asphalt as Dean floored the brakes. Forest surrounded the dark road, but an opening lead to a clearing overseeing the lake beyond. Dean had stopped because he saw the distinctive trenchcoat in the distance, Castiel facing the lake; looking above at the sky where angels had been falling seconds before.
Dean ran out to Cas, so full of relief he didn't bother to turn the car's engine off. He didn't even know if Cas would be nearby, or what had exactly happened. Had Castiel watched all the angels fall?
But as he got closer Dean could see more details: Castiel holding the angel blade inward towards his chest, ready to plunge. Dean yelled and broke into a run. He knocked Cas's hands apart before tackling him to the ground, straddling him.
Castiel struggled under Dean, trying to get the man off of him. Before Dean could hold down Castiel's arms, he elbowed Dean hard in the sternum, scrambling for the blade a few away in the grass. Dean recovered in time to knock Cas over just as Cas grabbed the blade.
"Don't," Cas rasped. Don't make this difficult, he meant to say. Don't care.
"Cas, STOP, goddammit!" Dean yelled, as they continued to struggle in the cold grass still wet from the morning rain.
"I DESERVE to die!" Castiel bellowed. He threw Dean off of him.
Now with the blade, he staggered back a few steps away from Dean, the weapon white-knuckled in his right hand. His left hand was outstretched, to keep Dean back. His coat was rumbled and dirty, his tie looser than usual, and his eyes widened in desperation. His left hand shook, covered with mud from the scuffle.
"All the suffering I caused. Unleashing the leviathan, genocide in heaven, now this," Castiel couldn't look at Dean, and he stared at the blade now.
Taking advantage of lack of eye contact, Dean moved slowly closer. "Cas-"
"I'm nothing but a plague," Castiel said with heartbreaking conviction, lifting his head to look at Dean almost beseechingly; as if begging him to see that this is how it had to be.
Castiel slowly lowered his left hand, and dropped his eyes to the blade once more. "This is the one good thing I can do -"
But as Castiel raised the blade, Dean moved before it could turn inward, jumping Cas from an angle and knocking them both to the ground. His hand tightened on Cas's right hand as they crashed to their knees.
Panting, Dean stood, angel blade now in hand, but Castiel did not stand. He stayed knelt in front of Dean, hands hung limp at his side, fingers unfurled in defeat against the cold earth.
"Please," Cas uttered. "Please, Dean."
Dean looked down at Castiel, and put his hand to Cas's cheek, upturning the man's face.
Castiel's eyes were bright, brimming with tears. The fight was over. There was only defeat left in him.
Dean knelt in front of Castiel, keeping eye contact as they came to the same level. Blade in his hand, he brought it in between them and tipped it lightly towards Castiel's chest. Cas lowered his gaze at it, and closed his eyes.
Dean hurled the blade as far as he could to the left, into the dark grass.
Dean went to his knees in front of Cas, steadily holding the man's eyes. He grasped Castiel's shoulders.
"You deserve to be saved," Dean said firmly. "And I'm not going to let you let go again."
"Dean." Castiel's voice cracked on the word.
Dean wrapped Cas in a tight hug, and his lips tightened as he felt Cas start to cry, shaking in Dean's arms.
"It's okay, you're okay," Dean said, his own throat so thick he could barely speak. His eyes squeezed shut. Cas, Cas.
"I failed my family. I failed you," Castiel said, the words carrying so much weight that Dean knew he wasn't just speaking about the angels falling. "I ruined-" He stopped, a sob caught in his throat.
"My grace was the last piece." He shuddered against Dean's frame, full of shame and guilt and horror.
"You didn't know," Dean said after a minute. "You hear me?" He hitched his shoulders, pulling Cas in closer, protectively. A new ferociousness chilled his words, aimed at who had done this. "You didn't know."
Castiel wept for his brothers and sisters, all locked out of their home. Angels like Samandriel, innocent and stripped of all their choices. He wept for being shackled to the earth, for being so violated as to have his own essence leached from him, his wings ripped away. Most of all he wept for the frustratingly stubborn man who held him, who had prayed to him every black night in purgatory that Castiel was forced to stay away.
But Castiel couldn't stay away now, and he molded into Dean's embrace like he had ached to ever since their reunion in purgatory.
They stayed like that for a while, Dean rocking them slightly as they clutched each other. Eventually Castiel's tears subsided, and he felt drained. Too tired to even think - how could he possibly fix this? He pulled back from Dean a little and sniffed, but Dean caught his eyes, and Dean's soft smile made Castiel feel slightly less horrible.
"We'll figure this out," Dean promised. He wiped at Cas's tear-streaked cheek with his thumb. "We always do."