A/N: too sad for my enjoyment. For Ethan. Masochists attract and all.
Castiel knew what was going to happen next.
The others were dead and he was severely outnumbered against the Croats. He was out of ammo too. Maybe that was what made his decision easier. Or maybe it was the knowledge that Dean was going to end thing, was going to kill Lucifer once and for all. Or maybe it was that, after all these years, he knew Dean wouldn't be able to kill Sam's body and would rather die than see Dean die.
Cas dropped the gun that Dean had forced into his hands all those years ago and closed his eyes, waiting. He felt it as the Croats ripped him apart. Somewhere in his brain he registered that this was suppose to hurt. But it didn't. Not really. The drugs helped with that, he thought absentmindedly.
And soon he realized he was lying in a pool of his own blood. Alone and dying. The Croats had run off, choosing to leave Castiel to die instead of finishing him off.
As he stared up at the ceiling he heard the ring of one gun shot that sounded distinctly like the Colt. He knew it. Cas smiled to himself, despite the distant pain, and closed his eyes again. Dean did it. Dean saved them.
And then Castiel allowed his body to relax and the last of his air to leave his lungs.
But, strangely enough, the feeling of peace that had encompassed him as he died had left. Then he felt every part of his body sew and stitch itself back together in the most agonizing way. My drugs won't help me now, he thought ruefully.
And suddenly he was lying on the floor again, staring up at the ceiling. Breathing. His heart was beating. And he was alive. He sat up and curled his hand into a fist, then stretched his fingers out again.
Still human, he thought, but alive.
The first thing he did was go looking for Dean.
It wasn't until he found him that Cas had considered the possibility that the reason God had continued to revive him all these years was a punishment.
Castiel dropped to his knees at Dean's side and, despite everything; tears began to flood his eyes. He rested his head against Dean's chest, listening for his heartbeat, hoping to feel the rise and fall of Dean's chest as he breathed. But instead, he found nothing.
Castiel sat up again and hovered over Dean's face as he attempted to cradle it, but the sick sound of the broken bones in his neck rubbing together stopped him short.
Castiel let out a watery sigh as he sat back, staring at Dean's body.
Cas carefully reached over to close Dean's eyes, then sat cross legged right next to Dean.
If he was going to die and be brought back to life, he thought as very human tears rolled down his cheeks; at least it would be with Dean by his side.