Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly.
A/N: Set shortly after 4.16. Rated M for a few curse words and drinking later. Not beta'd so all mistakes are mine, etc. Also, I'd just like to throw out the fact that I'm a Christian. With that said, enjoy the fic as I slowly work my way towards Hell! :)
"Faith does not make things easier, Dean. It makes things possible," Castiel stated in a low voice.
His eyes followed the younger man's hands as he lifted a plain black shirt over his head gingerly, grimacing as stiff and sore muscles were stretched. Castiel knew Dean should remain in the hospital longer, had told him as much, but the man wouldn't listen. He had let the argument drop when Dean turned on him with a cold, furious glance and clenched fists. There was another battle he was more focused on, though – a battle he was not willing to lose. He already knew how the battle between Heaven and Hell would end, but it was Dean he was most concerned about. He would not lose Dean.
"Makes what possible, exactly?" Dean asked angrily. His voice hard, yet weary. "I know you've been praying to your god. Hell, I've even tried it once or twice. But the only possibility I see is us getting our asses kicked six ways from Sunday because you feathery choir boys are too chicken shit to do anything and your god obviously doesn't care enough to stop all this himself," he practically shouted, his breath now coming in short gasps.
Castiel winced. He winced at the name calling and he winced at the pain he knew Dean was feeling. Most of all, though, he winced at the utter despair that was lying underneath all of Dean's harsh words – despair that could no longer be hidden from the angel.
Most human emotions were still a foreign concept to Castiel, but he could empathize with Dean. This whole situation had shaken the very core of his being; doubts, concerns, thoughts, and questions had all crossed the angel's mind that would never before have done so and it had rocked his world in the most disturbing way. But he had seen Heaven, he had witnessed miracles, and he had beheld the glory of His Father's creations. Because of this, Castiel was able to retain his faith. He could still believe.
Dean, however, had not experienced any of that. He had been exposed to every varying degree of evil since a young age. Castiel knew Dean had never been a man of faith when it came to the Holy, but he had always had faith in family and his purpose and, more importantly, himself. That faith was now vanishing at a rapid pace. Castiel didn't know what he could do about Dean's family. His only living relative was walking down a dark and dangerous path that the angel would not dare follow. But he was determined to restore Dean's faith in himself, if nothing else. His first order had been to rescue Dean Winchester from Perdition. Now, his personal mission was to save the younger man, no matter what.
"Many of my brethren have perished, Dean, have – fallen," Castiel stuttered. "I know what it feels like to lose your family, to see innocent people die. I also know what it's like to doubt yourself and hesitate in your beliefs. But you must listen to me, Dean," Castiel insisted, taking a step towards him where he leaned against the edge of the hospital bed. Dean stepped back. Whether the move was automatic or intentional, Castiel didn't know. He didn't care. He just needed Dean to understand. "You must have faith."
"My mother is dead, my father is dead, my brother might as well be dead," Dean said, his voice breaking. "I've killed every kind of monster there is only to witness innocent people die. Thousands, hundreds of thousands more will die because you won't help me. No one will help me. Why should I have faith in something or someone that's content with sitting on the sidelines while the fucking Apocalypse is right around the corner?"
"I-"
"Don't, Cas," Dean interrupted before the angel could say anything more. "Just go, please. Better yet, I'm going to leave. You can stay here." He moved over to the chair across from the bed and grabbed his coat, holding it tightly in his hand. He walked swiftly towards the door. Before exiting, though, he paused in the doorway, his hand on the frame. He didn't turn back to look at Castiel, just stood with his head down. After a few seconds he straightened up and left without another word or glance.
Castiel didn't know what else to do. He silently watched the younger man walk away. His shoulders sagged and he let out a frustrated sigh.
This would not be the end of this.
The next part should be up in a few days. REVIEWS would be greatly appreciated! And they might sped up things a bit ;)