Author's Notes: My first "Supernatural" fic. I love Castiel, so of course I had to make it about everyone's favorite angel. The setting is Season 9, the first half. AU. Spoilers:"Heaven Can't Wait", much of Season 9, and Season 4. Enjoy!

Tears of an Angel

Chapter One

Part 1.

Angels don't cry. It's a fact. I've said it a thousand times, but it's true. We don't have the physical ability to drop tears the way you do, which is why it came as such a shock to me the first time. It's an odd feeling, crying. Hard to get used to, kind of like sneezing, or—or defecating. Very uncomfortable.

I didn't cry at first, not at all. Not when I first dropped out of heaven and realized I lost all my angelic abilities. Not even when I was homeless and wandered the streets in search of food. I think I might have felt a few tears welling up when I sat in the cold rain, not knowing where to go for help—until the reaper took me in and gave me my other first experience—sex.

But I digress.

But the story has to wander a little to get to my point, so let me "set the stage", as you people say. This particular part of my story begins when I was trying to adjust to losing my grace to Metatron. I did that by assimilating into human culture. I took a job, kept my nose down, tried to make an honest living. At least until I could figure out what to do next.

And something unexpected happened. I fell in love. Sure, at first I was just baby-sitting for Nora. But her dates never worked out, and one night she stopped me before I walked out the door.

"Steve, I need to talk to you," she said. That was the name I was using—Steve. It helped me blend in. She placed a hand on my arm, and chills ran up into my chest. I wondered if I was getting sick, but probably not, because it felt utterly wonderful. And then I recognized the sensation from when I experienced a muted version of it with the reaper. Now it was Nora sending tingles surging through my body. Under her front porchlight, she said, "I keep going on all these dates lately, a different guy every week."

She paused. I never could get the hang of human conversation. Sometimes pauses mean you're supposed to speak next, sometimes they just mean the communicator is hesitant to say what they want to say. Angels are easier—we usually don't hide our meanings behind awkward silent gaps. But this one was longer than usual, so I spoke, if only to fill in the spaces. "Yeah. You have been dating a lot. You must like…guys."

She lowered her eyebrows, and I kept mine in their usual lowered position. Humans are confusing.

"No, Steve—I mean—yeah, I do like men, but what I mean to say is—" She shook her head. "I keep going out with these guys, looking for the perfect man. But while I'm out there, I keep thinking of…you."

I considered the statement and all its potential meanings. "You have no reason to worry. Your daughter is safe in my hands."

She took a step closer to me. I hadn't realized there was any space to move closer. "That's not what I mean either, Steve. You're right, you're really good with her. That's exactly it. You accept that I have a kid, and you're kind, and hard-working and patient, and…I keep wondering why I'm looking for someone else, when the right person is in front of me."

The chills intensified and spread to my head, and then my lower regions. "Nora, I…I like you too."

That was all it took. She made her move, and I gave the proper response by kissing her back. If there's one thing I love about being human, it's the feelings in my body when being intimate with another person.

But this was different. I noticed there was something even deeper than the physical tingles spreading throughout my body as she touched me to gently remove my clothes and her physical flesh made contact my nakedness. God, why did people even wear clothes when going without was so much more pleasurable? I suppose it has something to do with the whole Adam and Eve thing…

But I was sensing something extra. The best way to describe it is a feeling of oxytocin hitting every nerve receptor in my brain, soothing it with an ecstasy-like high…in a word, love.

That night, we didn't just have sex. Sure, we explored one another's bodies, gave each other waves of bliss. But there was more to it—a connection there that I had never felt with another person. The closest comparison I can make is eating chocolate.

I slept in her bed that night, and stayed every night after that for weeks on end. I imagine this is how people feel when they actually die and go to heaven, instead of being born into it. We formed a bond that I thought could never be broken, and suddenly, I didn't care what happened to the rest of the world or all the angels fallen from heaven. All that mattered was the beautiful soul who possessed the same house as me and stole my heart.

That's why I cried my first tears when she was so violently ripped out of my life.

Part 2.

I was working one day. The sun was shining along with my mood. I even whistled a tune with the radio—something about being "locked out of Heaven," I believe.

A man walked in, and since my angel senses were off, I couldn't tell at first what he was. He just looked like a regular guy—tall, long hair, kind of like Sam only with bushy facial hair and a much harder stare. He saw me behind the counter and gave a long, harsh look at me.

"Can I help you?" I was always polite when I worked.

The guy put his head down and pretended to look at candy bars. His work boots turned in my direction, and then his head popped up, and the hairs stood up on my arms. I felt like running, but still wasn't sure why. Was this a hold-up? I had heard of those. Instinctively, I put one hand on the gun under the counter, just in case.

The man shook a finger at me. "No, I remember." He gritted his teeth. "You're Castiel."

There was nobody else in the store, except Nora, who was in the back room balancing the books. Without hesitating, I pulled the gun and aimed it at him. "Who's asking?"

"I'm not asking." And in an instant, the demon locked the front door with his mind and threw me against the wall with a flick of his wrist. His eyes turned as black as his soul.

Nora must have heard the commotion because she rushed out from the back. "Nora! Run!" All I could do was warn her, I had no powers and was unable to move.

But she needed a second to figure out what was happening. "Steve!" she screamed, and in that moment, the demon flicked his other hand and pinned Nora against the other wall.

"Is that what he's calling himself these days?"

"You leave her alone!"

The demon clenched his jaw. "Or you'll what? Looks like you're a little short on angel juice right now." Keeping us both in mid-air, he took several strides toward me. "I know you don't know me, but I know you. You killed my brother."

Nora's high-pitched, shaky voice rang out from across the room. "Steve, what's he talking about? How is he—?"

"Shut up, bitch!" He turned his attention to her, and I blinked hard. His voice grew smarmy, and it made me feel like throwing up, another unpleasant human phenomenon. "I think she likes you. What is she, your little playmate, Castiel?"

I grew desperate. She was completely at his mercy, and I was helpless to do anything about it. "Please don't hurt her."

"Ah, I'm just playing around a little. Just like you did with my brother." He stabbed an overly-long nail into her chest and dragged it down between her breasts, drawing howls out of her. I grimaced as if I was the one being tortured. The demon kept talking. "I could use her as a toy, or I could just put her out of her misery now. Which would you prefer, angel?"

But he didn't give me a chance to answer. Instead, he pointed all the fingers on one hand in a bunch and shoved them deep into her belly. She screamed in pain. "You snooze you lose. I went ahead and made a decision for you."

"No," I whispered, wishing I had Sam's social skills at the moment so I could negotiate an escape. But panic choked my mind, and the only thing I could think to say was, "Just let her go. It's me you want."

He glared at me. "What I want is my brother back, but that's never going to happen, thanks to you." Then, right as I was about to offer him a false deal, he punched right through her heart. She slumped over. "So I'm going to watch you suffer for what you did."

And that's when it started. My eyes hurt, and I thought they might explode. My chest nearly burst open and spilled its contents all over the floor. Something wet fell down my cheeks, and at first I thought it was sweat. And then I realized—This is what it means to cry.