Naomi walked around the room and then sat down her chair.
"We have a situation." She glanced up from behind her desk and looked solemnly at Castiel, who was fidgeting with his trench coat nervously.
"You have a new assignment," she said. Cas looked up expectantly. Naomi paused for a second, making sure she said it correctly. Then she took a deep breath.
"You have to kill.." She hesitated before saying the last words. "..Dean Winchester."
His blue eyes slowly widened. Castiel's expression went from sternness to absolute terror. For a moment, he was speechless. He didn't know what to do or say.
"Why don't you just do it?" He asked stubbornly.
"Let's just say, this is your payment for what you did to heaven," she smiled icily. He stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over. He couldn't believe what she had said.
"No, NO! You can't make me do this," he cried out. He stumbled back in shock. Naomi got up from her chair slowly and walked over to Cas. She crossed her arms and sighed.
"I hoped you wouldn't make this difficult, Castiel, but you really give me no choice."
The next thing he knew, Cas was in an empty room strapped to a chair by his wrists. He tried to break free, but it was no use. He kicked and pulled, but the binds just cut deeper into his wrists. He saw a line of red form beneath the metal. Tears began to well in his eyes. He didn't want any of this to be happening. Naomi walked into the room, in her hand holding a sharp, silver knife. She looked at Castiel with grim determination.
"What are you doing to me?!" he yelled.
"I have to do this, Castiel. I'm sorry," she said as she brought the knife down onto his open eye.
"Orders are orders. You have to learn to obey them."
"No!" Cas yelled, "No!" He could feel the sharp tip pierce his eye. He gripped the chair so tight that his hands went numb. He could feel the blood from his wrists starting to run down his hands. All he could think about was Dean. He needed Dean. He wanted Dean. That was all he wanted. Dean. He trembled as he felt blood run down his cheek, mixing with sweat and tears. Pain flooded his mind. He yelled out in agony. He could hear whispers in his head. The whispers of all the angels watching him, judging him. The unaccepting whispers turned into shouts. Shouts which pierced his mind and his ears. Shouts that cut into him like the knife. He started to shake uncontrollably. He felt the knife cut him again, and he screamed, begging for mercy.
"Please," he gasped, right before Naomi could bring the knife down again. "Let me go. I'll do it."
The room vanished. Naomi was gone. Castiel staggered outside, blinded by pain and confusion. His eye was bleeding and throbbing. He saw Dean standing with Sam next to the impala, and fought the urge to run over and embrace him. Dean saw him and turned around. He gripped Cas by the shoulder to steady him. He looked at Sam for help.
"Cas, you okay?" Dean said softly. He saw the blood emerging from the corner of his bloodshot eye. He watched it slowly run down his pale cheek and drop off his jawline. Dean knew that something was wrong.
"Dean," Castiel gasped. Something was nagging him at the back of his mind. Something awful, but he couldn't remember what it was.
Castiel looked at Dean, who had an expression of worry on his face.
"What's wrong, Cas? What is it? Talk to me!" Dean said persistently. Castiel tried to say something, but no words would come out of his mouth. He walked towards Dean, staggered a little bit, and then collapsed, lying on the ground unconsciously.
When Castiel woke up, he was lying on the bed in the hotel room. Dean was sitting next to him, dabbing his forehead gently with a warm cloth. Dean stared into Cas's blue eyes, which were still red from the mysterious cuts. Cas rubbed the bruises and cuts on his wrists, still confused about what was going on
"Dean, I have to tell you-" Cas started to say but was interrupted.
"It's okay, Cas, everything is fine," Dean smiled, but Castiel could see the anxiety in his eyes. Cas wanted to tell Dean that nothing was fine. He wanted to tell Dean about what had happened, but it was all so fuzzy. His mind was like a camera, trying to refocus on the image, but it wasn't working right. He would remember something, something clear, but then a few seconds later it would completely vanish. He remembered screaming and shouting. His head hurt, and his eye was throbbing. He lifted his hand to the bridge of his nose and could feel the dried blood. An image of a silver knife came into his mind. Cas's eyebrows knit together as he strained his brain to remember what happened.
"What's the matter? What happened, Cas?" Dean asked, concerned.
"I-I don't know," he trembled and tears automatically began to flow again. Dean stroked Castiel's dark hair, trying to comfort him.
"Just rest, now, Cas. You've been through a lot. We can go out later for some burgers." Dean took one last look at the weary and ragged angel, and then walked out of the room. Castiel took a couple of deep, shaky breaths, laid back on the bed, and then closed his eyes. Suddenly, he was back in the chair. Naomi was standing in front of him.
"What did you do to me?" He demanded. Naomi leaned down in front of him and sneered.
"Obviously, not enough," she said coldly, and lifted the silver knife once again.