The Novak family had always been tighter than most; they had no friends or neighbors who knew about anything more than their presence except of course the Winchesters who they had not spoken to in years. They rarely left their small cottage that was too small for four rambunctious boys, especially when those boys were anything but human.

But Castiel felt no less human than any other child his age. He felt as human as one could without understanding the true limits of humanity. He felt emotion like everyone else, loneliness above all. He missed his friends but understood their reasons for staying away. Even at a young age their father hadn't wanted them fraternizing with witches.

That was long past and unimportant. He told himself that the Winchesters were unimportant, that everyone except his family was useless. It was not a good way to live but it made his solitude easier to bear. Still, though, he remembered when he'd played with his friends and it was hard to dismiss sometimes.

Michael said that they'd left because the entire family was cursed but Castiel thought that good people like the Winchesters simply did not wish to make themselves acquainted with witches. Which was completely fine. As long as he had his family he would be perfectly content.

Then things began to fall apart.

Lucifer left them on the night when Winter and Summer kissed,

He left them on a cold autumn evening, rebelling against their absent father's wish for them to stay in solitude. No, perhaps solitude was too peaceful a word. That suggested that Lucifer had gone quietly instead of in a grand display of violence.

Castiel's heart began to die as soon as Lucifer stepped out of their little cottage, as soon as he left the Kingdom with a dangerous farewell gift. A plague that would not be forgotten for generations to come.

Gabriel agreed with Castiel at first. They both agreed that the reason their father had asked them to stay in isolation was because of people like Lucifer. But on the anniversary of Lucifer's fall, Gabriel left him too. He didn't leave with such a flare, however. He simply slipped out into the night and never came back.

And Balthazar? He was far sneakier than the others, though for who Castiel didn't know. He would have preferred to know that his brother was gone than to believe that he was dead. But nonetheless he had found his brother's dead body and believed it's lies. He trusted that Balthazar was dead, unaware that he was tricking him just like his other brothers had.

For a year after their departure, Castiel watched the humans with soft eyes. Softly like velvet he watched them work with a light smile, pretending that he was perfectly fine and had not been affected by his brothers' fall.

The plague killed each human that he became invested in until he slowly lost himself. He died with compassion as all of his favorite humans choked on Lucifer's plague and he could do nothing because of his promise of loneliness. He did not reveal himself, he hid in the shadows as his heart rotted and burned until all of a sudden he stopped caring.

It was in the years after that first lonley one that Castiel reveled in his monstrosity. As a fully-fledged witch he could do anything that he truly wanted. But as a monster he had no friends, no one to bring him back to humanity. He grew so dauntingly cold that he did finally reveal himself to the humans only to demand a hefty price for his services. He demanded their souls.

It didn't matter to Castiel what the job was. Though he was terrible, he was seductive in power, there was no feat that was too great. And when he had their souls, only then did he become humane. He kept these souls close to him always, paranoid in his power and possessive of the only things he let close to him. They were a great leap from friends but it didn't really matter to him. He didn't need friends.

He forgot all about the Winchesters and what it was like to feel loved as he spiraled into deep-seated insanity. Castiel hated his brothers, he blamed them and his father for what had become of him.

So he needed more souls of course. More souls to keep him company in his isolation. More more more more more.

In present time he only had five hundred and four souls. But he -knew- all of them. He needed another one, just one more, but no one was knocking on his door, not one human. He felt like ripping his hair out, it just wasn't enough. None of it was enough. He couldn't be alone like this.

And then, several weeks later when he felt he might kill himself, there was a knock on his door. Just one, but it was enough to send him scrambling. He didn't want to look desperate, though, so he forced himself to appear emotionless and cruel. He didn't have to try for the latter. Cruelty came easily to him lately.

He wasn't expecting the man who was on the other side of his door, though. He was taller than Castiel, though minimally, with light hair and green eyes. It was the Prince of the Kingdom, Dean Winchester.

That name seemed familiar. Dean Winchester; but he assumed that it was just because of the multitude of times he'd heard the name. "Your highness," he sneered, coldness taking possession of his bright blue eyes.

The Prince didn't look amused. He gave Castiel a disbelieving look and said "you're Castiel?"

"Castiel? That was my name wasn't it?" It sounded so strange to hear it echoed across a human's lips. Or anyone for that matter. The souls never used his name, they were afraid to utter it.

Dean looked to the other man behind him, exchanging looks of varying increledicity. "Uh-yeah, look dude, we need your help."

"Help…" The word was familiar to him. It accompanied sobbing humans who believed they could bargain with something less valuable than their soul. "Why should I give you help?"

Dean couldn't come up with any answer to that. The witch looked really really familiar but there was something disconcerting about his deranged eyes that reminded Dean who he was dealing with. The witch constantly stole the souls of the innocent. "I can talk to Dad about the payment. Just...Come with us."

Castiel stared at Dean a little bit longer than was necessary and the prince momentarily thought he was going to have to defend himself but then the witch just nodded. "Yes, of course."

Castiel didn't have any reason to stay in his dilapidated cabin anymore. The souls themselves would be fine, and something about Dean reminded him more of home than his house did.

Dean got in the back of the carriage and though he wasn't really comfortable to have Castiel sit next to him, he didn't have any other options. The guy was freaking weird, but he looked harmless. It was a wrong assumption, but something in the back of his mind kept telling him that Castiel was a good guy.

The man in the long tan coat went to sit next to him, vacant eyes staring forward. It was disconcerting and Dean felt like he had to say something.

"So," he grew suddenly serious. "You say that you can heal anyone, right?"

Castiel looked to the side, blinking slowly. "I can, yes. For a price."

"Yeah, yeah I know," growled Dean "a soul, right?"

It took him a long time to answer. "Yes."

Dean didn't try to start any more conversations after that and it wasn't long before they were back at the castle. The golden arches rose higher than the sky, glimmering under the quiet summer light invitingly, practically pulling him towards the beautiful monument.

Castiel appeared out of place in the green plains. His dark brown hair was too-long, coat ripped up, eyes sunken. He looked like the kind of person who would be begging on the streets, not like someone who was needed at the castle.

"Come on!" said Dean, waving his hand warily. "Dad isn't going to be happy if we're late. And you really don't want the King angry with you."

Castiel seemed to remember something and he looked at Dean with some interest before saying. "No, not again."

Dean dismissed that. If John had been angry with Cas, then he would be dead. Unless of course, his father was afraid of the witch but he found that scenario unlikely.

Silently they both walked into the palace, Castiel's footsteps dangerously quiet against the smooth floors. He didn't seem awed with his surroundings like every other person Dean had met had been, instead he seemed almost bored with everything except the servants who came out of their rooms. He looked at them like they were cookies or something. Witches didn't...Eat people, did they?

Dean led Castiel up the spiral staircase which were, in his opinion, a complete waste of space. He thought spiral staircases were a lot of useless exercise. "Dad?"

"You found him?" asked Dean's father who was sitting down next to Sam.

"Yeah, he's right…" Castiel was still halfway up the stairs watching one of the nobles who was visiting for a while. Dean really hoped that he didn't eat people. "Right there. Castiel! Come on!"

Cas looked up at him and listlessly strode up the stairs, joining him next to John.

"So you can do it, boy?" asked John, narrowing his eyes. Even if his boys didn't remember when they'd played with this witch, he did. He'd never forget that this boy had almost destroyed them.

"I'm not a boy," said Castiel "you would do well to remember that."

The King didn't appear to much like that statement but he ignored it. "You didn't answer my question."

Castiel gave a slight nod. Of course he could; but he was not the small boy that he'd been when John and he had met last. He was a monster now, so he would take advantage of John's affections.

"Of course I can. But in return for his healing...I want Dean Winchester's soul."