Professing love: check

'I'm not an angel anymore. I'm your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord... or I shall destroy you.'

Well, let's get this over with. Dean looked at Sam and Bobby and their faces were damn reluctant and for a moment Dean thought the stupid, stubborn bastards would rather die than swallow their pride and placate this thing before them. Eventually, it turned out that none of them really had any desire to snuff it tonight, so they bowed. It seemed just a little bit easier for Dean than it was for the other two hunters. Come to think of it, it was maybe too easy. He just imagined the old Cas, the real Cas; the one he could and would trust with his life and his knees succumbed.

He didn't quite know what he had expected to happen. If Cas hadn't folded after the whole 'Don't make me lose you too' speech then they sure as hell weren't going to have a cosy Xander-Willow-yellow-crayon moment now. On his knees he looked up at the man before him. A new God; yeah, right. More like a monster, though the old God had reportedly also been fond of the smiting. It was disconcerting to see what Castiel had become, because there was one thing Dean knew: this thing might look like Cas and sound like Cas, but it wasn't.

When he looked into those blue eyes, he didn't see Cas lurking behind them. And wasn't Dean the biggest idiot of them all? Bobby had warned him about Castiel, but he hadn't wanted to listen and now they were screwed. All the new and improved God would have to do was take a peek inside Sam and Bobby as Cas had done numerous times before and he would see the hatred. Hell, the hatred was plainly visible on their faces. The bowing down part they had covered, but the professing love thing wasn't really going too well.

As for Dean, professing love: check. It was surprisingly easy. Again way too easy, because he only had to conjure up one of a thousand moments he had spend with Cas and... done. Cas looking at porn, utterly confused. Cas telling him he would give him anything he wished. Cas, right in his face, refusing to understand the concept of personal space. Cas at the brothel, scared out of his mind. That was the Cas he knew and loved.

Probably not the right kind of love, though. It was more of a tolerant love, because Cas annoyed the crap out of him, but he still liked him around. It was beyond exhausting to always have to explain everything to him and Dean was fresh out of frustrated sighs and exasperated eye rolls, yet Cas' behaviour somehow managed to amuse him. It was definitely not an 'I worship at the altar of the new Lord' sort of love.

One look and the self-declared God would know. Dean didn't bow down and profess his love for anyone, except one man. And that man wasn't here. That man wasn't even a man; he was an angel. This thing was not Castiel, because Cas didn't have to threaten him to get him to say it. On the other hand, maybe it was because it wasn't Castiel that they hadn't been killed yet. Maybe it couldn't see inside of them, like Cas could. Maybe they could fool it. Except Dean didn't want to fool it; he wanted the angel back.

Dean got up and walked towards Castiel's vessel, expecting to be struck down by lightning any second. The other two hunters looked at him like he was crazy, which he probably was. There was something that Dean hoped and he was well aware that he was playing with their lives. It might be wishful thinking and in that case they would be right back where they started. Option number one, Dean was wrong; they were fucked. Option number two, Dean was right; there was a big chance that they remained fucked. Yet, he had to try. Cas might still be in there somewhere.

Cautiously, Dean took what was not Castiel's hand and felt the souls pulsing under what was not Castiel's skin. There was confusion in what was not Castiel's face, as if the new God was unsure of how to react. A public display of affection was probably not what the thing had meant when he commanded them to profess their love. Dean almost leaned in to kiss him, if only to see what the son of a bitch would make of that, but the thought repulsed him.

'I no longer love you,' Dean said and if Cas was present he would know what that meant. It was along the lines of 'You're not my family, Dean' and didn't that just rip your fucking guts out? An angry sneer appeared on the vessel's face.

'Prepare to die,' not-Castiel said, but there was a hurt flicker in his eyes, which Dean almost thought he might have imagined, because it was gone so fast. Then there was a blinding flash of light and as he fell backward Dean thought this shit could not be good for his sperm count. The white light slowly faded and Dean opened his eyes. He looked around and was relieved to find Sam and Bobby alive and alright. Quickly, he crawled towards where what had once been Castiel was lying, hoping.

'Dean? What did...? I'm sorry,' Castiel mumbled. It was Cas, it was really Cas. Dean grinned and enveloped the angel in a bone crushing embrace, not caring that he was never going to live this down. Sam and Bobby wouldn't let him. Yeah, this moment was fodder for sexual innuendos for years to come and Dean couldn't care less. Cas weakly hugged him in return. No souls buzzing underneath his skin, all Dean felt was Cas.

'Cas, I'm so glad to have you back.'

The end.

(***)

The Xander Willow yellow crayon mention is a reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the season 6 finale, where Willow has decided to destroy the world (that makes it sound like she just woke up one day and said, 'hey, let's end the world today,' but it was a tad more complicated than that) and Xander talks her down by reminding her of their friendship, with a (kind of lame) anecdote about a yellow crayon.

'Prepare to die' is a little shout out to Inigo Montoya from the film The Princess Bride.