My name is Castiel, and I am no longer an Angel of the Lord.

I once was a being of light and glory, a warrior of God. I followed His orders, and meted out his justice. I was eternal as the stars and burned twice as bright. I was the lone survivor of my garrison, and I rescued the Righteous Man from Hell. I fought alongside him and his brother and halted the Apocalypse. Together, we locked Lucifer and Michael in the deepest pit of Hell for eternity. Unfortunately, like my eldest brother before me, I too was destined to fall.

I decimated my brothers and sisters fighting a war I could not win. I did not trust those I should have, and placed my faith in the ones who ultimately were my undoing. My home was thrown into chaos, but when I attempted atonement, I only made things worse. I was incapable of finding the correct way to achieve absolution, and the one man who could give it to me, I constantly endangered and abandoned. When I finally managed to find what I thought was the right path, I was forced to leave him once more, if only to protect him.

I trusted someone I thought of as family. He was one of the last to see my Father, to speak with Him, and was given the duty to take down His word. I thought this made him worthy of my trust, but it did not.

My grace, my essence, the closest thing I have to a soul, was stolen from me. Without it, my family would have lived on, in chaos perhaps but theywould have lived. Now we are all cursed to a shadow of our former lives; without grace and without duty we are nothing.

Humans have love, compassion, and an instinct on how to survive. Angels lack all of that. The only thing we possess is the ability to obey, and now even that has been taken. Because of me.

I know it sounds strange, but now I feel a certain kinship towards Lucifer that I have not experienced before. Now, we are all of us fallen from grace, fallen from a father who did not even care enough to keep his children from tearing each other apart in His name.

Sam and Dean have both been doing their best to take care of me, but I have found little worthwhile about being human. Humanity in itself is beautiful, but I have done far too much to deserve the small joys it affords. Too much has been lost in my name, too many sins stain me; I find myself apathetic about even the simplest of tasks.

Dean says it will pass, that it always does, and while it pains me that he too has experienced this, I feel as if he is stronger than I. For myself, I do not believe this will pass. The only times I feel anything approaching sanity is when I steal Dean's liquor, or find a way to sneak a small amount of marijuana. For reasons I have not yet ascertained, Dean is extremely reluctant to allow me these small pleasures. I cannot understand, he and Sam both frequently drink, and I know Dean often smoked prior to Hell. However, when he catches me with a bottle of his Jack Daniels, or the few instances when I am rolling a "joint", he immediately snatches it from my hands and growls.

We are growing apart, I fear, and it is my fault. I cannot heal what is wrong with Sam, I cannot fix what I have done to Heaven, and I cannot tell him now that everything I've done I've done for him. He does not need the guilt that will doubtlessly inspire, and so I suffer alone.

This is the first taste of true loneliness I have ever had. The silence in my head without my brothers and sisters is deafening. I am afraid I will not survive it long.

My name is Castiel, and there is nothing that isn't my fault.