Disclaimer - Don't own a damn thing!

Chapter 2 - Behind Blue Eyes.

A week passed and not much changed. The brothers fell back into routine, saving people, hunting things; But Cas was the elephant in the room. They were desperately trying to come up with a plan to combat his new position, preferably one that wouldn't kill him. But either way they had squat. It wasn't until the muggy thursday night following the ritual that Dean admitted what everyone had been thinking.

"We've gotta call him." Dean said flatly. This earned him and incredulous look from Sam.

"You've got to be kidding Dean? No. We have no idea where his head is at now. Last time we saw him he was killing with a snap of his fingers."

Bobby nodded his head looking towards Dean who was spinning the fat metal ring on his third finger. A tell tale sign that he was nervous.

"He won't hurt us." Dean muttered, almost trying to convince himself, "It's still Cas guys, he's just a little… high right now. But with those souls…"

"We don't stand a chance." Sam finished.

Dean shook his head. He looked up at Sam from under his lashes, knowing he was thinking the same. Castiel was too powerful for them to even think about killing. Their best bet, their only chance, was to talk him down. Now they just had to find the right words.

"Well, I hope you boys know what you're doing," Bobby muttered. "I'll get the ritual started."

Bobby finished the last words of latin, dropping a match into the pigment and igniting a bright blue flame that slowly died down to merely sparks. Dean felt sick. Completely naked and vulnerable, with no weapons on him and no angel proofing around the house, because... Well, what the hell would be the point?

The three of them sat, eyes tensely moving around the room for some sign of Castiel's presence, for almost an hour; There was no telling whether this would work, whether Cas was even bound by the magic they used to summon him, all they could do was wait.

They heard his voice before they saw him standing in the corner of the room.

"Why did you call me?"

Dean looked up, taken aback by Castiel's appearance. He looked like hell. Dark shadows lay under his eyes, but also on his temples, his neck and the backs of his hands. When Castiel stepped into the light of the room Dean realised that they were ugly purple bruises. These marks littered Castiel's vessel, some as dark as night, others yellowing. It occurred to Dean that while nothing on the outside could touch him, it was what was inside of him that was causing this damage.

"What the hell happened to you?" Sam gasped, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over them. Dean snapped out of his thoughts, tearing his eyes away from Castiel's scarred body.

Castiel sighed. It was devoid of feeling, but in the way that emotion required him too much effort. More than anything, their former friend, former angel, looked and sounded broken.

"It's not important. my vessel is weakening; Jimmy is not strong enough to withstand my power anymore."

"Like Lucifer's vessel…" Sam whispered, almost to himself, but not quietly enough. Castiel whirled on him, face exploding with a flash of hot anger. As uncharacteristic as this was of Cas, Dean favoured it over that insensitive smugness.

"Don't compare me to him." he snapped, his voice low, rumbling and as rough as gravel. Sam held up his hands, took a step back, realising how dangerous it would be to aggravate Castiel. Bobby watched the exchange in silence.

'Don't poke the bear' Dean thought, 'Unless, that's exactly what I have to do.'

"Well, not for nothing Cas, but he's right. You look like shit."

Castiel turned to him now, that foreign smirk settled on his face. Dean kept up his bravado, not looking at Sam and Bobby; their eyes beseeching him to shut the fuck up.

He prayed, (Well, maybe not prayed…) that Castiel wouldn't see through him completely. He started to pace.

"I mean, come on Cas. How long are you gonna defend this. Yeah, you managed to overthrow Raphael, Kudos. But seriously. Your vessel is fucked two ways from Sunday, and God only knows where your head is at."

It felt good. He'd spent so much time in the past couple of years talking things out or just pushing down his emotions. Dean knew that he dealt well with his feelings by hashing them out with anger and sarcasm. Even though the timing now wasn't perfect, (far from it), he couldn't seem to stop himself. Something had snapped, and suddenly he didn't want to persuade Cas. He didn't have the damn strength for a heart to heart. He wanted to lay everything out, wanted to say exactly what was on his mind; Everyone else be damned. I mean, if they were going down… well they might as well go down literally swinging.

"And I get it you know; I mean, hey, everyone wants to feel invincible. But for fucks sake, you've just got no idea just how deluded you are."

Castiel tilted his head.

"Just because you can do what you want. Doesn't mean you get to do whatever you want!" He yelled. His knees were defiantly shaking but he stood tall, now only a few feet from Cas. Sam and Bobby hovered by the table. He knew when they'd made the decision to call Cas he'd be the one to do the talking, although he hadn't at that point thought he'd be yelling at the most powerful and dangerous thing he'd ever faced.

Castiel's mouth set in a hard line, he took two long strides towards the eldest Winchester, coat billowing behind him, until their noses almost touched. Dean swallowed thickly, waiting for the imminent death that he'd never thought would have come at the hand of Castiel.

Castiel had opened his mouth to say respond, before something changed in his eyes. Suddenly he looked vulnerable, hurt, scared. He stumbled back a step clutching his side; a groan like he'd been punched escaped his lips. Dean looked down and saw blood pouring through the white cotton of his shirt. With it, Dean could have sworn he saw the shimmer of something dart out. Along the walls, up the chimney. Like the ripple in high heat. There, but also not. Castiel pitched forward, into Dean who caught his arms and braced his back. Sam and Bobby started towards them, but Dean held up a hand.

The moment passed as quickly as it had come, Castiel straightened, stepped away from Dean who was still unconsciously gripping his arm tight. Something a little like hatred was in his eyes.

"Get your hands off me." he spat. His eyes closed and the room began to shake. Pure white flooded from his chest, expelling out like a brilliant starburst. Dean had just enough time to shout 'shut your eyes' before the high pitched wail of the light became too loud to think.

He threw himself to the floor and remained there until the screeching subsided and the ground ceased it's quaking movement.

He opened his eyes to darkness, the lights overhead were blown out; Grabbing his zippo lighter from his back pocket he flicked it on and saw Bobby and Sam were recovering from where they had pressed themselves against the floor.

Castiel was gone, a shallow puddle of blackish red blood stained the floor where he had stood.

NOTE

So I hope you're enjoying so far. At the minuet it's pretty Canon but I'm debating whether to make this into a Destiel fic, so if that is/isn't (Gettit? Slash? No? :|) your thing then let me know!
Always love to hear what you guys think. REVIEW FOR FREE COOKIES.

(But not really.)