(This fic is based off of the gif going around tumblr where Cas says to Demon Dean, "I'd rather have you, cursed or not, remember?". You don't have to see the gif to understand the story. This takes place soon after the season 9 finale. It is from Cas's perspective.)
It's my fault. I let him down. I let him die.
I let him die.
A clap of thunder ripped through the sky as I annihilated the nearest tree with my angel strength. I didn't care that it made me weaker. I didn't care that it wasted my grace. I just wanted Dean.
"I need you."
The words echoing through my mind felt like a child's toy being held just out of reach. The past few months flew past my vision, spotlighting everything I could have done. Everything I should have done to keep Dean away from that godamn mark.
"Cas." the echo sounded so much like Dean.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"Cas."
"I'm sorry!" I yelled, although it came out like more of a cry. I struck the nearest tree and stumbled backwards as dizziness took over. My grace was low. Really low.
"Cas."
wait.
That wasn't…
"CAS."
No. It isn't possible. He died. He's dead. He's…
"CAS."
I disappeared from the woods in a split second and materialized at the bunker. I barely noticed the diziness and the headache my teleportation caused me as I walked towards Dean's room. 'Dean's alive. He's actually alive. He's…'
Oh. God.
It was dean…but it wasn't.
His soul, it was all wrong. It was twisted and gnarled and black and torn.
It wasn't beautiful anymore.
"Cas." Dean's voice felt like a stab to my chest. He sounded so lost so… broken. I expected his voice to be mutilated like his soul, but it wasn't, which was a million times worse.
"Dean," I responded. I did not know what to say. Dean took a step towards me. I flinched. Underneath Dean's skin black smoke travelled throughout his body. It was awful looking, just gross, and cold, and…evil. I tore my eyes away to look at Dean's face. Dean was following my gaze with the most broken expression. But when I looked up at him he quickly looked away. His expression shifted to one he often wore when he hunted. Except this time he wasn't directing it towards a monster, he was looking in the mirror.
"Do it," he practically growled. I squinted at him.
"Do…?"
"Exorcise me."
"What?!" Dean glared at me.
"I belong in Hell." I returned his glare.
"No you don't,"
"Jesus Christ Cas do I have to spell it out for you?! I let some psycho Angel posses my brother, I killed Kevin, I let Metatron get away, I'm a DEMON for fuck's sake! If anyone belongs in hell, it's me!" Dean's face was red from yelling, his glare all the while unwavering. How do I make this stubborn man understand? I took a few steps closer to Dean. I couldn't help but notice how black the smoke truly was…Dammit Cas pull it together this is Dean and he needs you. I managed to move my gaze back to Dean and tightly grip his shoulder.
"I raised you from perdition and I don't plan to have you fuck it up," The words felt foreign on my tongue as all of this odd modern slang did, but I hoped it would have some affect on Dean. It seemed to, his glare softened and he looked at me. Really looked at me. I softened my grip on his shoulder and my gaze as well.
"I'd rather have you, cursed or not, remember?" Dean took a sharp breath. He blinked and for a moment his eyes were green again. Like so many times before I gazed into eyes and into his soul. It was torn and it was damaged but it wasn't all destroyed. There was still a little light. Come on Dean. For once in your life listen. Suddenly the black returned to his eyes.
And then he disappeared.
