"Don't-" Dean's voice was a stammer, a bare, grated whisper, his voice was not that of a man, barely thirty five, but something older, something tired and run into the ground. And the angel registered that this was his fault, seeing the shame flickering across Dean's face, before it fell victim to his persisting indiference.
Gadriel tilted his head, "But it is /true/," He reiterated, arm still raised, keeping Dean in place, back against the wall, the Winchester made a sound, not like a wounded animal, but not like any sound the angel had seen a man make. His eyes briefly flitted to the gaping holes in the prophets skull, and an ache swelled within him, a heavy guilt. This was not who he was. And yet, his head turned, facing Dean again, it was what he must become.
"True?! You lied to me Ze-" Dean's voice died, on his tongue the nickname that the angel had affectionately endured. He almost rose to it, almost answered to it's call, to the promise it made, being needed, required, not shamed, but appreciated. The call he had answered so many times, the word he had heard in the dark, slipping from the Winchester's lips in pain, or in pleasure, or some mingling sense of both as he straddled the line, and Gadriel was permited to bring him back from it. That name, 'Zeke', was truth, and belgonging. He swallowed his doubt. 'You lied about... everything else, about Sam, about you, look at what you did to Kevin you son of a bitch- what makes you think I'd believe you didn't lie about the rest too? What makes you think I'd want too?' The human snapped. And for the second time Gadriel doubted his motive, his resolve. The pain reflected on Dean's face called to Sam's memoriam, that part of the mind that housed an affectionate place for Dean, one of the angels favorite sections to skim when his dying host become too much. So much pain had already seen the older Winchester's face, Gadirel could recall the fleating flickers of his expresisons, caught forever as if in stop motion in Sam's mind.
"Regardless of how you may feel, I meant.. every word. Dean, I only wish I could have remained faithful to those promises," The angel attempted, at least, one last ditch effort to sway him. He didn't want to lose that thin-ice relationship he had developed, that trust that he was doing good, that he was trust worthy, that Dean could feel an affection for him to rival what Gadriel saw in his heart for Castiel. But Dean's head was shaking, his bright eyes filling with glistening tears, his lips trembling, and Gadriel wanted to move forward, to take his chin between thumb and forefinger, and kiss him. To take that pain away, as he had been, as Dean had trusted him too. But not in this body, he would not commit such disrespect (what wouldn't he do now? He was unsure ) and not after this final act of apparent betrayal.
"Like hell you did- I let you in here, trusted you, let you inside my brother... the things I let you do to me, say to me, and you just turn around, and you rip up the contract. What in that tells me you meant it!? And what's more, why would I want any of it now, you just goddamn broke my family into pieces... you made me send Cas away, and for what? For this? For you to take my brother, and Kevin away from me? Under my goddamn nose? How dare you come in here, and claim you meant it. Don't you /ever/ say that to me again."
"That I love-" The angel began, a sort of fierce desire to make himself heard filling him to the brim. Maybe it was the shame, the shame he could see flashing Dean's mind, tainting the memories of his touch, doubting the warmth of the angels comfort, and Gadriel became very desperate.
"Don't." Dean's word cut, digging into the angels flesh to the point that had he needed to, he wouldn't be able to draw breath. His expression, Sam's face rippled with pain, something that seemed to make Dean defiant, eyes brimming with tears that no longer could resist force, and began to slide down his cheeks. And what hurt Gadriel, too, was that those tears were not shed for him, anger had taken love's place in Dean's heart, those tears were for Kevin, and for Sam. Two crucial lives he'd ripped from the Winchester's clutches.
"I did what I had to do."