His angel sword clattered against the hard floor. Castiel had almost done it. He'd almost killed Dean.

Dean was still standing with his hand cupped against his jaw where Castiel's fist had connected. His green gaze slid from the discarded weapon up to Castiel's face. Castiel wanted to look away but couldn't. He deserved to see the hurt that would cross Dean's features, and the disgust that would inevitably follow. They'd been here before, in what feels like both yesterday and a lifetime ago. Though no burning holy oil encircled Castiel now, the panic and disbelief in Dean's eyes, widening them, kept him trapped.

"I didn't…" Castiel said. "I don't…" He didn't begin to know how to convince Dean of his innocence in this – or if he even should. Was this his punishment for his crimes against his brothers and sisters in Heaven? Did he deserve Dean's hatred?

"What?" Dean started, but seemed no more able to form a structured thought than Castiel.

"I-I'm sorry." Fear shuddered through him. Dean was going to hate him.

"Cas," Dean said, a bit breathless. His hand slid away from his face, revealing a red spot the shape of Castiel's knuckles. Castiel winced. The mark would be an ugly purple bruise by morning.

Castiel couldn't stop his hands from shaking through force of will alone, so he clutched at his trenchcoat, grabbing clumps of the coarse brown fabric in desperate fists. "Dean, I –"

"It's okay," Dean said. Instead of hatred or anger, concern swept across his face, pulling his brow together. The look was torture. Castiel didn't deserve kindness. He dropped his gaze away. "Hey, don't do that."

"I'm so sorry," Castiel said, again and again, because only an infinite number of apologizes would be enough to convey the depths of his sorrow and regret.

"Stop." Dean stepped closer to him, crossing the lines of personal space that had once been a barrier between them. Castiel backed away. He didn't deserve warmth or comfort, especially from Dean. But the stubborn hunter followed him until Castiel was boxed against the wall, surrounded by everything bright and safe and undeniably Dean.

"Please," Castiel said, unsure what to beg for. Dean should go, should leave him, but with the entirety of his heart, Castiel yearned for him to stay. He wanted Dean to forgive him, to look at him and see only good and love – so that maybe, just maybe, Castiel could look into Dean's eyes and see those things reflected back at him. If Dean believed them, then maybe Castiel could believe them too.

"Cas," Dean said, and the one tiny three-letter variation of Castiel's name, trembling with such raw emotion, was enough to undo him.

Tears welted in Castiel's eyes. He didn't know he could cry.

"I know it wasn't you," Dean said with such understanding that Castiel's heart and lungs felt too big for his chest. He dropped his hold on his own coat and clawed at Dean's instead – Dean, his anchor.

"Help me," Castiel whispered.

"I will, Cas," Dean replied. He pulled Castiel into an embrace and buried his face into a trenchcoat-covered shoulder. "Just stay. Please, stay. We'll fight this together, whatever it is."

"Dean." Castiel pressed close to Dean's body, trying to somehow meld against him so that they could never be separated again. But he knew that was impossible. He knew what was coming next. "I won't have a…"

In an instant, the shelter of Dean's body and soul vanished and Castiel was standing in a cold colorless room.

"…choice."

3.7.13

A/N - As with most of my stories now, this was posted first on my tumblr yesterday. The sn is the same over there so you know it's me (thekingslover). Also, thank you so much to everyone who has been reading, favorite-ing, and reviewing my Destiel stories. I've really been in the Destiel mood lately, I just can't stop myself. And your encouragement and acceptance has made me feel very loved and welcomed. Thank you thank you thank you! :)

Disclaimer - I do not own Supernatural. I don't make any money from this.