"I need to talk to him, Michael", Castiel told the archangel desperately, asking for what might have been the hundredth time. "I know what's wrong with heaven. I can help fix it!"
Michael scowled at the angel, his lip curled into a fierce snarl that Castiel recognized all too well. The top layer of the archangel's four wings flicked with irritation. "Don't ask again, Castiel. You don't know anything about heaven. You're not worthy to talk to God."
"How could you say that?" Castiel pleaded. "I have heard about God. God wouldn't turn down one of his own children."
"You truly think you're God's child, Castiel?" Michael scoffed. "None of us are. We're servants. And you? You're virtually worthless." He crossed his arms and gave a quick sweeping glance around the kingdom. His facial expression had softened significantly. "None of us can fix heaven, Castiel. So quit trying."
"How could you-?"
"You're nothing, angel!" Michael screamed, his four wings flailed and his eyes blazing with anger. The archangel drew his blade hastily, while Castiel stood strong. He knew the truth about heaven. He'd known it for a while. Castiel narrowed his eyes at Michael, feeling a hot fury build in his chest. His own wings, although much less grand then the archangel's, were curved in a battle stance. The dark feathers were arched and furled. Castiel's halo glowed sleek, dark black.
"You're wrong, Michael. Everything…" He stopped and took a breath. This statement was the deciding factor. If angel hearts had a beat, he would have felt it racing in his chest. "Everything is corrupt! You are a corrupt leader!" Castiel drew his own blade, aiming it at the archangel. There was no way that Castiel would make this battle out alive.
Suspiciously enough, Michael relaxed. His smile was smooth and sarcastic. The angel blade was swiftly tucked into the archangel's sheathe. "What's the point of killing you, Castiel?" He cackled, narrowing his eyes and scratching his chin. Michael stepped closer, to where Castiel could see the color of his irises and hear the archangel's labored breath. Michael gave a bone-chilling whisper. "I could ruin your pathetic existence."
There are few things that an archangel could punish him with worse than death. Banishment to hell was the first, but the next worse was…
"You can't do this!" Castiel screamed, dropping his knife and hearing it clatter to the floor. Michael took his hand and thrust it into the angel's ribcage, clutching Castiel's heart tight. "Stop!" Castiel cried out in agony. The archangel's fingers dug into his arteries, making bright, hot blood pour through his skin. His entire being rippled with pain as Michael tore at him. No fighting now. He was a dead angel. Michael's eyes glittered with fury and enjoyment as Castiel's eyes fluttered and darkened, his breaths rapid and labored.
"Too late, Cassie." Michael gave one final tear to Castiel's chest. Castiel's breath caught in his throat and he crumpled to the ground, feeling his own hot blood pooling over his hands.
When he opened his eyes again, everything was bright, blinding white.