Disclaimer: I own nothing, I would, however, like to borrow Misha Collins for a bit. Title comes from Evanescence's "Lithium" and I don't own that either.

A/N: I know, I know, I shouldn't start anything new, I have to finish the other ones, I promise, I haven't forgotten about them. Castiel is my muse and he seems to have abadoned me, although I'm sure there's a good reason. Thank you for being patient, I promise my other fics will be worked on.

Drown My Will To Fly

Words whispered in the dark. Words filled with love and reverence, loss and catechism. Words to his father who never answered. Did he not hear his lost son, or just not care anymore?

There was never any acknowledgement either way but Castiel never lost faith. He knew the risks, the consequences of falling, but right now it seemed worth it. He didn't want any help from his father, any guidance, he just wanted his love. Castiel wasn't stupid though, how could his father love one such as he? He disobeyed to help a human who refused that help, and then fell for him, becoming mortal for him.

"You're fucking praying again?" Dean yells as he storms through the motel room door and slamming it, bringing Castiel back to Earth.

"And you've been drinking again," Castiel replied quietly, not opening his eyes.

"Well at least I'm out there living it up, having fun before the world fucking ends, not sitting in the dark waiting for a postcard from Daddy."

"I want him to know that I still love him. Besides, I have fun with you. Or at least I used to," Castiel added under his breath.

Dean rushed over to the bed and slammed the fallen angel into the headboard. "I didn't ask you to do this," Dean tells him, lowering his voice.

Castiel opens his eyes and meets Dean's angry gaze, eyes so dark he might as well have been possessed by a demon. "I did it because I love you and because you are worth it, Dean. I still believe that. You've just forgotten. You lose yourself in the alcohol and become blind to the great man that you are."

"Fuck you!" Dean spits and roughly turns Castiel onto his stomach and rips his boxers down off his legs.

Castiel hears Dean unzip his jeans and braces himself. He knows what comes next and misses the days when it was done in rapture, not in anger. Sometimes it was good, it wouldn't be just fucking, borderline rape, it would be tender and caring, almost like making love again. But it was never the same as it used to be. And most times Dean had to be drunk. He couldn't remember the last time Dean told him he loved him when he was sober. But the fallen angel was unconditionally in love with the human, and if this was the only way he could be with him… Well, it was better than being alone.

Dean spits in his hand and inserts two fingers into Castiel's tight opening, ignoring his whimpers, and thrusts them in and out a few times, just enough to be able to slide in. He removes his fingers and replaces it with his cock, slamming hard into Castiel, banging the smaller man's head against the headboard of the bed. Grabbing his hip with his left hand and a handful of hair with his right, Dean slams into him over and over again.

Castiel closes his eyes against the assault, letting Dean have his way with him, take control of him. Despite the violence, the anger permeating the room, Castiel's own arousal was growing. He yearned to be touched, but Dean wouldn't touch him, this wasn't about pleasure, not even for Dean. It was about control, the last thing Dean felt he had control over in a world gone to Hell. And, Heaven forbid, if Castiel tried to touch himself, Dean would not-so-gently remind him that this isn't what this is all about.

Dean slid out of Castiel and zipped up his pants, having never even taken them off, and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Castiel slumps onto his stomach, Dean's release slowly leaking out of him. He rolls over onto his back when the pressure on his erection became too much. He positions himself up against the headboard and wraps his hand around his arousal. As he starts to stroke himself, the tears he had been holding back start to stream down his face.

These were the worst times for Castiel, when he was left alone in the cold and the dark. This was when reality hit him the hardest. He'd left his father, his brothers and sisters, to be with a human who regularly made him feel even lonelier. He felt ashamed letting Dean take him like that. He used to be a powerful angel and now weak, he was letting himself be controlled and taken by a human. This was when he hated himself the most, when the darkest, deepest part of him would whisper to him that he should leave, find someone else worthy of his love. That whispering voice would also tell him that he was stupid for falling, that he never should have done it.

The harder Castiel cried the faster he stroked himself. As he climaxed he vowed that he would never let Dean do that to him again. Things were going to change from now on. But he made this vow every time, and when it came right down to it he would never say anything to Dean for fear of losing him. Despite the darkness that enveloped Dean, Castiel loved him and would do anything to stay with him, even if it meant hating himself and succumbing to Dean's demons.

Castiel wiped his hand on the bed sheets and curled up on his side, still crying silently. He pulled the bottom of his t-shirt up to dry his eyes, not that it did any good, the tears just kept coming, even after he fell asleep.

A/N: I feel so bad, I'm so mean to Cas. I'm not trying to be, I love him. So I don't wanna hear any shit about about "OMG y do u hate Cas so much?!" I don't know. I just write what appears in my head. And yes, there will be more to this, I can't leave it like that.