So, this is something I wrote because I got tired of seeing all the fics out there with Castiel falling from grace and not experiencing any kind of negative effect. It may just be me, but it seems a little far fetched to have him be completely fine with having it forcefully taken from him. Sometimes it feels like people write it just as a way to make Castiel be a human so they could have Destiel. While I have read some very well written stories like that I wanted to try my hand at it and this is what I got. There will be more to come later but for now, enjoy this.

He had fallen. He had fallen and it was a long and painful fall that left him writhing in unspoken agony that he could never even begin to explain to anyone. After all, how do you explain to a human the kind of intangible wounds that are left when you fall from grace? How do you explain that bone deep aching left behind when your grace is pulled from your body leaving you utterly empty or the needle sharp pricking in his back caused by his wings, his beautifully damaged wings, being ripped from his back. He could try to explain this to Sam and Dean and maybe they would understand but they would not know the depth of his pain and he could never explain what hurt him the most. No. They would never understand how, for the first time in his life, he felt truly alone. He was alone in his vessel with Jimmy gone, and when Sam and Dean weren't around, he was in complete solitude. There was no connection with other angels, nor was there any other soul in his vessel. He was alone for the first time in his life and it left a deep abyss of loneliness that he was falling further and further into. Each day he spent in this threatened to grip him tight and pull him beyond the reach of anyone who might try to pull him out. These were the unspoken pains that plagued his consciousness and left him longing for the dark hours of the night where he would lay crying silently to himself, longing for someone to be there with him until he fell asleep to fall right back into the same pattern the next day.
Castiel was in a constant state of falling and he didn't know how to break the cycle. He couldn't find anything to grab onto and catch himself and he knew. He knew with every fiber of his being that if he didn't find something soon he would continue to spiral into the abyss until he hit the bottom and all he would find would be darkness and pain. He would be beyond the reach of anyone who wanted to help him.

"Cas?" Dean's voice echoed through his head, mixing in with his other thoughts.
"Castiel," his voice called again. It took a minute for him to fully register it as something different and not his own thought.
He blinked and turned to look at Dean. "Yes?" he asked. Dean seemed to pause and abandon his original question in favor of turning a chair to face him.
"Talk to me Cas. What's going on up in that head of yours?" he asked, sitting forward and setting a pair of intense green eyes on the former angel.
"Nothing Dean. I'm fine," he said, turning his eyes away from him.
"Like hell you are. It took me calling your name three times and using your full name to get any response from you. What's going on?" he pressed, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
"You've said you don't like chick flick moments." Castiel said, turning the statement back on Dean as an excuse not to talk about his problems.
Dean frowned and sighed softly. "I'll make an exception for you. What's wrong, Castiel?"
The intensity in Dean's voice was almost enough to reach Castiel from where he was in the never ending pit. It stopped him and kept him suspended in the moment reaching up toward the Righteous Man in an effort to be caught. He swallowed and shook his head. "You wouldn't understand... you wouldn't understand if I tried to tell you."
"I'll try to understand and if I don't then at least you talked about."
Castiel watched Dean sit forward more and could tell he had been given the hunter's undivided attention. He began to doubt if there was anything he could do to avoid telling him what was wrong and slowly drew in a deep breath in an attempt to quell his nerves. He flexed his hands and watched the tendons move beneath the skin as he sorted through his mess of thoughts.
"I fell, Dean..." he muttered just above a whisper. "And I keep falling."
"What do you mean, you keep falling? Cas, you're fine. You're not falling anymore." He could hear concern growing in Dean's voice with the question.
"I..." he shook his head and drew in a deep breath, thinking over how to explain how he was sinking further and further away from what he once was and how he felt he would never stop falling. He didn't know how to explain the suffocating feeling of drowning he got when he spent too long thinking about how much he had lost. "I've lost everything, Dean."
Voicing that one statement brought a heavy weight on his shoulders. It felt as if saying those three simple words gave them a body and a very real fear gripped him when he thought about what destruction would come to him if he voiced any other feelings he had.
A hand over his own returned him to reality and he looked up to a pair of worried green eyes and a slight frown. "Cas... I know you've lost a lot but you haven't lost everything. Sam and I are here for you."
"You don't get it," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I don't expect you to understand though." Castiel bit his cheek and tore his eyes away from the emeralds that watched him so closely. The eyes he had once felt so close to but now couldn't feel any farther from.
"Cas...even if I don't understand it, you can't keep all this to yourself," he heard him say. Deep down, he knew Dean was right. He knew it wasn't doing him any good to keep everything to himself, but it was much harder to verbalize it. It was so much harder to put his pain in words than it was to pretend he had no problems. How could he even begin to describe the mind numbing pain that had clawed its way into his life or the fear that had taken root in his heart. The fear that one day Sam and Dean would grow weary of him and he would truly be alone.
"Cas... please, talk to me about this. Let me in. I want to help you." Dean's voice was laced with a deep pleading tone, begging for him to open up to him.
Castiel felt his heart clench and he bowed his head. "I'm alone, Dean..." He took a slow breath feeling Dean's steady gaze on him and knew he wasn't going to be interrupted. "My brothers and sisters have left me and I-I've never felt so lost before."
The weight pressed further down on his shoulders and dragged him further out of reach.
"I keep falling and tumbling and I've lost any sense of direction. I no longer know which way is up and which way is down. I don't know where to reach for help and... I'm so lost and scared, Dean." Castiel stopped, sucking in a shaky breath that did nothing to relieve him of the dizzy feeling that had overtaken him.
With every word that passed his lips he seemed to become more lost in his feelings, more consumed by them, as if they were a living entity of their own and he had no means to defeat them. Castiel was powerless against his own mind and that thought alone was enough to leave him breathless and shaking. Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped in his subconscious he felt as if his lungs were no longer working. Each attempt he made to draw in a breath left his chest tighter.

Falling. He was falling again and it was so dark. It was dark, and it sucked the warmth out of him. It started in his chest. An ice sickle forced into his chest cavity and froze his lungs and petrified his heart. A veil that draped across his vision and shrouded him from what was real. Nothing was real anymore. All that remained was the darkness. The darkness and himself. He had no control over his life. He was scared and would have screamed for help if not for the apparent inability to push air from his lungs. Castiel was sure this was it. He was sure that he had finally hit the bottom. It felt like it. The thud that echoed through his head and the cold that pressed against his body. Both had to be him finally hitted the bottom of his eternal fall, right?
Warmth. A small burst of it. He didn't know where, he couldn't pinpoint its exact location but it was there, warm and comforting. Slowly the bit of warmth began to spread. It blossomed in his chest like the first flower of spring and continued down his arms and legs until the cold that had paralyzed him moments before was gone.
"-iel? Can you hear me?" A soft voice reached through the veil, drawing him closer. He felt the warmth tighten around him, and Castiel vaguely became aware of a pair of arms around him. The warmth moved. It was no longer all encompassing and he feared it would leave him. He feared it would leave and the cold would take over again. Then it settled back over him. It gripped him tightly by the shoulders and held him steady.
"Breath. You need to breath, Cas," the voice instructed him. He then took notice of the tightness in his chest and slowly, as if having to remember how to perform the action, drew in a small breath of air and released it.
"Slower. You need breath slower. Calm down and take a deep breath. Five seconds." Castiel felt himself nod weakly and draw in another breath. Slower this time. Just like the voice instructed. He could hear the voice counting now. A steady rhythm to five.
In. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Out. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
In. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Out. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
It was to this rhythm that Castiel felt himself regain a semblance of control. It was to this rhythm that Castiel felt his fall into chaos become less chaotic. And it was to this rhythm that Castiel felt the veil lift from his eyes and his vision come back into focus.
He blinked slowly and watched Dean's intense green eyes flood with relief. His hands held him firmly and rubbing small circles into his arms. Castiel took another slow breath, counting in his head just as Dean had been doing. He watched the hunter nod to him slowly, urging him to continue. Several minutes passed with blue eyes locked with green. A soft voice counting to five over and over being the only sound in the room, accompanied by the occasional whimper until Castiel's breathing had returned to normal and the steady count was only repeated in his head. He noticed he was sitting on the ground with Dean kneeling in front of him holding either shoulder to keep him in an upright position.

"You're okay, Cas," Dean soothed.

Castiel felt a hand move from his shoulder to cup his face. Dean's thumb brushed over his cheek, drying it. He hadn't realized he had started crying and wondered when exactly the tears had started to fall but he found he couldn't get them to stop and he was swallowing against a lump in his throat now. A strangled sob tore through his throat and Dean's arms were around him again. Castiel fell against Dean's chest, clinging to him tightly and sobbing into his chest. He felt Dean's arms tighten around him as he was gently rocked. A hand started rubbing his back and Dean was whispering softly to him again. He didn't know what he was saying but it didn't matter much at the moment. He didn't need to know what the words were because at least they were there. At least there was someone whispering softly to him and holding him this time.