Just as Dean Winchester pulled into the driveway of The Hills Motel in Lincoln Nebraska, it started to pour. Dean knew the rain was bound to fall as soon as he walked out of the hotel room earlier in the morning with his brother, Sam. He could feel the humidity in the air and the ominous look of the clouds above. It didn't take long for sweat to accumulate on the back of his neck, soaking the rim of his collared shirt; so, when the rain started to fall, Dean could not admit that he was surprised. His brother, who was inconveniently researching at the local library, had the only umbrella he owned. Dean grabbed his coat and slammed the door to his 1967 Chevy Impala closed; he then ran towards the safety of the motel scaffolding. Dean jogged past each motel room door in desperate search for room number nine; the rain was clouding his vision making it hard to see. By the time his found the keys that would unlock his motel room the rain has seeped through his thick, worn leather jacket into his dark gray cotton shirt.

As soon as Dean stepped into the dark motel room he shrugged off his jacket and dropped it in a pile on the floor. Just as he was about to start changing out of his wet clothing, Dean noticed a man sitting at the small table across the room. Although the man's back was facing Dean, Dean could see the man's dark hair and beige trench coat. He had a very slim and fit figure, although he was hunched over. His elbows rested on the table and head slightly drooped. "Cas, is that you?" said Dean as he walked over to Castiel. Castiel stared blankly at the wall in front of him, as if he hadn't heard a word of what Dean had said. He had a bottle of unidentifiable liquor in his hand; by the smell of it, Dean could tell it was something strong. Dean lightly chuckled. "Alright Cas lets get you to bed." Dean then patted his shoulder and went to hang up his coat. When he came back, Castiel still hadn't moved. Dean walked back over to the angel and snapping his fingers in front of his face. "Cas! Hello? Lets go." Just as Dean reached under Castiel's arms in attempt to pick him up, Cas slurred, "I… I-I did it." Castiel it so quietly that Dean didn't hear it. Castiel spoke up again, "I did it, Dean. I killed her," For a moment Dean paused, unsure of how he should answer. He ended up chuckling again and saying, "Cas you have had a lot to drink and you are stressed about the world going to shit. I get it. It gets me too, but even you and your feathery ass need to res-" "No Dean," Castiel's voice was low and rough. He spoke with a very uneven rhythm. Although Castiel's posture was hunched over, he looked as ridged as a tightly pulled wire; he was ready to snap at any moment. "I killed Claire. I killed my daughter, and I couldn't stop." Castiel's hands started to tremble. Cas' gaze remained glued to the wall. His intense blue eyes were focused on something that wasn't there, almost as if he was reimagining something, and it was playing right in front of him. A look of horror started to creep across Cas' face. Dean decided to take a hit at listening to the angel's drunken banter. "What? Castiel what happened?" Dean questioned. "What do you care Dean?" Castiel spoke in a hushed tone, but the words were still delivered with malice. "Since when do you ever care?" Castiel's stare finally met Dean's. Dean had never seen such a look of pure hatred in his life. Castiel's eyes were blood shot and his skin had a yellowish glow, just as a sick person's skin would be. But Cas was not sick. "Cas lets talk about this in the morning when you are well rested and thinking straight." Dean hated having emotional conversations. Especially when the person he was having them with was very drunk. Dean once again attempted to lift Castiel out of the chair. Castiel quickly whipped around and smacked Dean's hands away from his shoulder. "You know how long ago she died? Three months ago! Did you care? No!" Castiel stood up and threw the chair he was sitting in behind him. Dean realized that he had just stepped onto a very, very thin layer of ice. IF he said the wrong thing, the ice would crack and he would fall under. "Cas I didn't kn-" The angel interrupted him. "You didn't know? Of course you didn't know! Since when have you ever cared about me?" Cas paced closer to the one dresser in the room. He bit his bottom lip, trying to cover up its nervous quiver. Thunder boomed outside of the hotel room. Castiel jumped; the storm was right on top of them. Dean now understood that Cas was wounded, wounded in a way that was not visible to the eye. He soon apprehended that there was no avoiding this conversation. "You kicked me out of the bunker! I had nowhere to turn and you abandoned me! I was human! I was lost in a way that you will never experience and you left me!" Castiel's voice cracked. He slowly started to walk towards Dean, although the liquor was making his steps heavy and uneven. "Cas why don't we take a deep breath and calm dow-" "Calm down? Are you about to tell me to calm down? I swear if one more person tries to tell me to fucking calm down then I will personally drag your sorry ass back to Hell. Back to where you belong." At that, Dean froze. Cas knew how sensitive of a topic that was for him, and he just brought it up like he was talking about tomorrow's weather. Cas was only inches away from Dean. The Dean could feel his hot breath on his face. The smell was unmistakably alcohol. Dean had never been left this speechless before. He had never seen Castiel so full of hatred. Dean drew a breath in to speak, but Cas beat him to it. "When you found me for the first time after the Leviathans left me, you fucking drove me into the ground! I had never hated myself so much for bringing that much chaos onto the world and all you did to help was insult me! You consistently reminded me of the mistakes I had made. You didn't let me move on! You didn't let me heal! I wanted it all to be over. I wanted to die. I wanted to take an angelic blade and stab myself through the heart. You know what I did instead? I stabbed it through Claire's!" Cas could no longer control the quiver in his lips. His hands had balled up into fists; his knuckles were a pale white, like hot fire. He reached for the liquor bottle and took a long drink. It felt like fire in his veins. He needed more, more. He needed to feel the pain that Claire felt when he had taken a blade, and stabbed it through her heart. Dean took Cas drinking as an opportunity to speak. "Well how was I supposed to know, Cas? You never told me shit! You were the one that let the Leviathans out and I was mad at you for turning the world to shit and-" "Exactly Dean," Castiel was practically shouting now. "Everyone of the people I have grown to call my family was mad at me! Everyone! But no one could have been madder at me than myself! The last thing I needed was more of it from you! You of all people I needed support from! I needed to know that someone still loved me! I needed to know that someone still fucking cared!" The liquor wasn't strong enough anymore. Cas needed the white hot coals of fury and guilt and despair. He felt like a bomb about to explode, and he didn't care about the number of casualties he took down with him. Castiel felt the need to destroy, to burn. He needed to feel something. He needed to feel pain. That was the only thing that can make him feel better. Castiel turned around towards the dresser and pushed everything off of it. He ripped the lamp out of the socket and threw it across the room. The lamp broke into a million pieces, but it wasn't enough. He started smashing the glass plates on the floor causing rigid, sharp glass to cover the floor. But it wasn't enough. He started to punch the floor repeatedly. Cas's knuckles split in half. Blood started to ooze down his arms. "Cas stop!" Dean rushed over to grab Cas' wrists but Castiel punched him right across the jaw. Dean flew backwards against the wall. The unexpected punch had sent him into a daze. Castiel took this time to stand up and search through the drawers of the dresser until he found a stashed angel blade. Lightening cracked outside. The rain had not stopped coming down. Cas couldn't take it anymore. Too many lives were lost because of him. It was time for him to pay the price. He slowly held the angel blade out in front of him. He could barely wrap his fingers around the blade without dropping it; his hands shook too hard. The cold metal felt like fire in his hands. Every time lightening struck, the light bounced off the blade and onto the angel's face, highlighting his tired, angry eyes. He was ready. He imagined the blade pushed into his heart. He was ready. Ready for it to be over. Dean pushed himself off of the floor just in time to see the angel holding a blade to his heart. Dean could not lose another family member. He couldn't lose Castiel. "No Castiel stop!" Dean leaped forward and grabbed Castiel's wrists. He started fighting Cas for the blade. "Dean stop!" Castiel screamed. He kicked and punched and flailed with all of his might; he needed the blade back. He needed to suffer. He needed to die. "Dean I need to do this!" Dean grabbed the blade in Castiel's hand. "I need to-" Castiel dropped the blade and fell into Dean. Cas couldn't take it anymore; he started to cry. The tears rolled down his face harder than the rain fell from the sky. It was uncensored and pure. All of the emotions, all of the pain, suffering, and confusion of the past couple of years came out and flowed down his pale face. Cas started to scream. He shrieked and wailed and cried until his voice became so hoarse that he couldn't speak. Castiel tried to stand back up, but he simply could not. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, supporting him with the little strength he had left. Cas clung to him; he didn't think he could ever let go. If he let go, then he would fall, and Cas wasn't sure he would be able to get back up. Dean took in a shaky breath. 'He is safe.' Dean thought. 'Safe, and broken. Broken beyond my repair. I broke Cas. And now I can't put him back together.' Dean's breath hitched at that thought. He off all things just wanted to sleep, but he knew he had to be strong for Cas, just as he is strong for Sammy, and the rest of his loved ones. "I'm sorry Cas. It's going to be ok. I am here." Dean whispered into the angel's ear. Cas wrapped his fingers around the hem of Dean's shirt; he needed something to steady him. "I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't." Castiel Started to chant quietly to himself. "Cas, stop. It is over. Let go." Castiel had not stopped crying. He couldn't. He thought that he would never stop. All the things he had done; all the people he had killed; nothing could ever make up for it. Nothing.