Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. That would never end well.

Note to anyone reading, the chapters are going to be very short, I'm sorry. But there will be at least 7 chapters, so that's good at least!

This is my first fanfic, so please feel free to give me any constructive criticism of reviews. I'm just trying to get better, and I can't do that without help! Don't worry, I'm pretty tough, so don't be timid. Oh, and this is going to be a monster of a story. I really enjoy writing so prepare for pretty much a novel. Well okay, that's an exaggeration. But really, this is going to be very long.

Plot: This is a Destiel story. To give you a synopsis would sort of give away the plot, but for now let's all just agree that both Dean and Cas get stuck in an AR (which is not the same as an AU, thank you to skiing Pelican for that! :D) where they don't remember their old lives or each other. (Pretty much like the plot of It's a Terrible Life, but with different people and different ending morals)

The Fate of a Free-Will Angel

Prologue

Castiel fell asleep that night to Casa Erotica. He wasn't actually watching it, and he never really would have, but he had changed in the last year. Although he turned it on to feel less lonely, the noise just reminded him how alone he actually was. He had an unhealthy amount of empty beer cans surrounding him; that was also a new development in his life. He guiltily remembered not paying for them, which reminded him that he had promised Gabriel he wouldn't drink as much that day. Cas hoped that he didn't come to check on him. He wondered how Dean was doing, but pushed the thought away. It was Dean's fault that Cas was this way. Cas used to be part of something grand, something incredible. Now he was practically human. How could something that had seemed so good end in this?

Chapter One

The dreadful, grating sound of Castiel's alarm clock escorted him into yet another day. He sat up slowly and observed his surroundings. He room was pristine and spotless like always, his father had always drilled perfection into his head as a child. Everything seemed to be in its place, and yet something felt off. He heard his stomach complain, and decided that he would wait until after breakfast to address this problem.

He padded into the kitchen, barely making any noise, and opened the fridge. Ground hamburger meat, bacon, steak, and leftover cheeseburgers. Typical.

He had loved red meat for as long as he could remember, but he had recently read somewhere that it could cause cancer, heart disease, and some other sickness that was hard to pronounce and sounded terrible. Castiel knew that he should limit the amount he ate, but it was as if he didn't have any control over it.

Silently chiding himself for his lack of willpower, Cas started to fry up copious amounts of bacon. It was strange, he thought, that he couldn't resist this but all other things didn't faze him in the slightest. He finished frying the bacon and walked into the next room: his studio.

The room was well-lit and cluttered with pictures, easels, boxes, and splatters of paint. He sat down on his favorite stool and put his bacon on the small end table. Just as he picked up his brush and was about to continue his latest painting, someone knocked on the door.

With a slightly bewildered look, he got up and began to walk to the door. Castiel couldn't remember the last time someone had knocked on his door. His dad never visited, and his brothers couldn't be bothered with him; they were much too busy with each other. He finally decided the last person must have been Meg. This realization made him a bit sad, but he brushed it off and opened the door.

"Hey, Cas," said a quiet but confident voice. Cas recognized it, but it took a second to register.

"Sam? When did you… Why did you… How did you…" he stuttered, sounding like a complete idiot and not at all like himself.

Sam just laughed. "I got your address from Balthazar. He said you might still be here. You really dropped off the radar, you know."

"I, uh, well that was sort of the point. Do you, uh, want to come in, then?"

"Yeah…Do you have any beer? I've been dying for one the whole ride up," breezing past Cas, he continued to talk, "I'll be damned. Everything looks exactly the way it did at the old place. You're one neat son of a bitch, aren't you? The kitchen is to the left, right?" Sam asked casually, as if it hadn't been years since they last talked.

Shocked, and very confused, Castiel nodded and followed Sam back inside. To say he was curious about what was happening would be a massive understatement.

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