II fr GT"No." He said looking at his feet.
He didn't look at the lifeless body in front of him. It wasn't that he didn't want to believe what had just happened. He just couldn't comprehend it.
It had just been a routine hunt, a nest of vamps that were easily smiteable to an angel like Castiel; weak beings that would never have gotten an inch out of the building even if they made such a foolhardy choice as to run from a warrior of God.
The room held the telltales signs of a battle, blood streaked haphazardly down the cracked and aged walls and about a dozen severed heads lay on the dirt ridden floor. Most were unevenly decapitated at the neck, by blade of course, leaking what little blood it had left. And if you looked close enough you could almost believe that they were still living, every so often one would twitch due to an electrical pulse from the short-circuited brain.
But even that was slowly ceasing as an eerie calm settled over the abandoned barn. The nights frost nipped at the back of Cas' neck as he adjusted his trench and knelt down next to the one body that still mattered.
It was warm to the touch, a fresh kill, the vampires hadn't left this one to chance, they hadn't even fed, they just killed it immediately. The throat was ripped out and the muscles were coated in the shiny crimson fluid that supported life but in this moment ensured death.
It had been Dean's idea to used a form of bait to get the vamps out so some of them could be slain in the open and the rest could be tracked back to their "base" but no one had imagined that it would have ended in the death of a hunter...
He lay on the ground, his shirt slowly soaking up the blood that pooled behind his head. The neck was obviously broken. All you had to do was look at the bone that protruded from the gaping hole. It hadn't been snapped, it had been bitten into. As Cas' eyes welled up with tears they slowly scanned the room, he was fairly sure that the bit of bone was still in one of the vampires mouth, though he didn't check. He didn't take his eyes off his friend.
He had been the first casualty of the battle, it was what had lead Cas to brutally kill each vampire in turn, each method more and more brutal than the last. By the time the last vamp had fallen Castiel looked and acted like the warrior heaven had fashioned him to be. Deadly. Efficient.
He had become the being he used to be, he lacked free will, he lacked emotions. But he didn't care he was reverting back to his routes. He cared about the hunter.
His hunter.
The one who lay dead on the floor before him.
Dean Winchester.