The Angel of Solitude and Tears Chapter 4: Archangel Grace, a supernatural fanfic

Title: The Angel of Solitude and Tears

Written By: Alexia Blackbriar

Summary:

Season 5 AU After Carthage. Because Cas was just too awesome to Fall and I felt like the writers were throwing away so much potential. A lot of things haven't been explained.

Michael cut off. He had never ranted on that long without the younger Archangel interrupting him. He turned and cursed loudly in Enochian. Where Castiel had stood, there was now only a small puddle of blood and a few broken black feathers. He was gone.

AN: Hey guys! Thanks so much for all the reviews! It really makes me smile. Hope you enjoy this chapter. We have a lot of Michael and a LOT of Cas!Whump in this chapter.

So... Read on. Please review at the end! Thanks!

"Well, I'd say this conversation is long overdue, wouldn't you?" Michael said.

Dean didn't look afraid. Instead, he looked determined, and pissed. He pointed at Sam and Cas. "Fix them. Fix them!"

"Alright," Michael said softly.

He knelt down beside his younger brother; he placed one hand on the younger Archangel's shoulder and a spark of Grace ignited between them. Castiel turned his head and when he opened his shockingly blue eyes, they were pained and agonized. He gave a tiny whimper when he spotted Michael above him and tried to shift away but only caused more fire to scorch his chest. There was a large puddle of scarlet glowing blood on the floor around him soaking up into his trench coat.

"Hello, Cassiel," Michael greeted him quietly. "It has been too long. We will talk after this, but for now..."

Michael gently extracted Castiel's sword from his chest, placing it beside him. It vanished, appearing in another veil of reality in a different plane, there for Castiel to summon at will. The older Archangel laid a careful hand on him and gave Cas a burst of his own Grace, flowing it through his vessel like a river. He absorbed it quickly before closing his eyes, slipping into unconsciousness.

"What did you do?" Dean demanded, suspicious.

"I have given him enough energy to heal his wound," Michael explained, rising.

"Why can't you just heal him?"

"The wound was dealt by Cassiel's own sword. There's a saying I believe. Thines sword is thines bane. Cassiel is powerful, and his sword is equal to his power. His sword is the only weapon that can kill him. Uriel knew this, and used it against him. He will be severely reprimanded, I assure you. I cannot heal Cassiel because his Grace is more potent than mine, and he would overwhelm me. I can only provide him energy."

Dean was still looking at the Archangel with a suspicious glance. "How did you find us here?"

"When Cassiel's Grace was struck by his blade, he sent out a distress beacon. It is impossibly hard to receive and decipher, but I raised Cassiel and I know his Grace. I was able to follow the beacon here."

"So you're from the future."

"It was fairly obvious, Dean," Michael told him with a small smirk.

Dean, shaking, pointed at Sam. "Fix Sam. Fix him!"

Michael smiled. "First...we talk. Then I fix your darling little Sammy."

Dean frowned. "How'd you get in my dad, anyway?"

"I told him I could save his wife, and he said yes."

Dean scoffed. "I guess they oversold me being your one and only vessel."

Michael gave a small smirk. "You're my true vessel but not my only one."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Dean demanded.

"It's a bloodline."

"A bloodline?"

Michael nodded. "Stretching back to Cain and Abel. It's in your blood, your father's blood, your family's blood."

"Awesome," Dean snorted. "Six degrees of Heaven Bacon. What do you want with me?"

"You really don't know the answer to that?" Michael raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you know I ain't gonna say yes, so why are you here? What do you want with me?!"

"I just want you to understand what you and I have to do."

Dean lifted his head and gave a short bark of laughter. "Oh, I get it. You got beef with your brother. Well, get some therapy, pal. Don't take it out on my planet!"

Michael shook his head sadly. "You're wrong. Lucifer defied our father, betrayed me and attempted to kill the Heir. But still...I don't want this any more than you would want to kill Sam." The Archangel looked down at the floor. "You know, Lucifer, I practically raised him. I took care of him in a way most people could never understand, and I still love him." Michael sighed. "But I am going to kill him because it is right and I have to."

Dean snorted. "Oh, because God says so?"

"Yes," Michael said importantly. "From the beginning, he knew this was how it was going to end."

"And you're just gonna do whatever God says?" Dean shook his head. "What about Cas? He's meant to be the Son of God, the Heir to Heaven and all that crap, right? How come he's against the Apocalypse then if he's supposed to be this perfect unflawed creation?"

Michael hummed. "Cassiel is young, and his opinions are conflicted. When our Father left Heaven, Cassiel was distraught and confused. He does not know what he is doing. I, however, am confident and follow orders. I will kill Lucifer. I will do what the Father orders, because I am a good son."

"Okay, well, trust me, pal. Take it from someone who knows—that is a dead-end street."

Michael stepped closer and his eyes burned with the fires of Hell. "And you think you know better than my father? One unimportant little man." He smirked. "What makes you think you get to choose?"

"Because I got to believe that I can choose what I do with my unimportant little life."

Michael shook his head. "You're wrong. You know how I know? Think of a million random acts of chance that let John and Mary be born, to meet, to fall in love, to have the two of you. Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is? Because it's not random. It's not chance. It's a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will's an illusion, Dean. That's why you're going to say yes. Oh, buck up. It could be worse. You know, unlike my brothers, I won't leave you a drooling mess when I'm done wearing you."

Dean looked worried. "Well, what about my dad?"

"Better than new. In fact, I'm gonna do your mom and your dad a favor."

"What?"

"Scrub their minds. They won't remember me or you."

Dean looked shocked. "You can't do that."

"I'm just giving your mother what she wants. She can go back to her husband, her family—"

"She's gonna walk right into that nursery!" Dean shouted.

Michael raised his eyebrows. "Obviously. And you always knew that was going to play out one way or another. You can't fight City Hall."

"If free will's an illusion, buttercup, then how come Cas has it?" Dean asked. "He's fighting against your plan! He's doing what he thinks is right and ignoring what you douchenozzles order, 'cos he's better than you."

Michael's eyes flashed. "Like I said, Dean. Cassiel is very confused and conflicted. He is unsure in his mission because he is no longer guided in his teachings. However, that will be rectified. We have plans for him."

Dean's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"Do not concern yourself with my younger brother, Dean Winchester," Michael told him. "He is in safe hands."

"You keep your hands off of Cas, you son of a bitch!" Dean shouted angrily.

Michael raised his eyebrows and turned back to Sam, pressing his fingers to his forehead. He vanished and Dean startled. "Your brothers is healed and safely in your motel room in two thousand and ten. I will send you back. I want words with my brother."

"No," Dean said angrily. "You send Cas back with us."

Michael smirked again. "What makes you think you have a choice?" He raised his hand.

Dean! Cas's voice burst into his mind. As soon as you get back to the future, pack up and drive to Bobby's as fast as you can! I will meet you there!

But Cas -

Just DO IT.

Michael touched his forehead and Dean disappeared, back into the future. As soon as he was gone, Michael turned around to face his little brother, who was now conscious and dragging himself to his feet, trying to stem the blood flowing out of his chest wound. Michael stepped forwards, concerned, but Castiel hissed and the older angel stepped back again.

"Always so uncontrollable, aren't you, Cassiel?" Michael commented.

"That is not my name. My name is Castiel," Castiel replied, his eyes narrowing, though he was truly exhausted, his Grace wavering. His vessel had lost a lot of blood.

"Well then Castiel," Michael said. "You took a reckless risk today. You could have killed yourself."

"So?" Cas said.

"It is my responsibility to protect you."

"It was never your responsibility to protect me," Castiel hissed. "It was your job to make me into a soldier. Gabriel raised and protected me. You stood by."

"I fought against the Fallen and guarded you from Lucifer."

Cas gave a broken laugh. "And look how that turned out."

"Castiel, stop this nonsense."

Castiel shook his head, turning away. "You can't tell me what to do anymore, Michael. I am not a fledgling anymore. I am more powerful than you, and I have free will."

"Like I said to Dean, free will is an illusion," Michael said calmly. "You really think, Castiel, that you being picked to save the Righteous Man from hell was chance? Father knew this would happen. He knew you would side with the Winchesters. Our plan is working out perfectly." Michael crossed his arms. "Well, apart from this. You, on the run from your family. Father will not be pleased, Castiel. He ordered me to protect you, but you are quite the stubborn child. Now all I have to do is put you back in line. You can't fight Fate, Castiel. I will fight Lucifer, and you will watch by."

"What makes you think I won't escape you again?" Cas asked. "I've done it before."

Michael chuckled in amusement. "You never really escaped us, Castiel. We let you go. We knew that without you in the picture, the Winchesters would never play their part."

"But I - I rebelled, I didn't - I went against Zachariah's -"

"Yes, you did, which was unexpected. Zachariah was severely reprimanded when he lost sight of you. But no matter. With Lucifer back in the equation, all will be put right again. I will fight him." Michael strode forwards towards him. "You have responsibilities in Heaven," Michael told him. "We have decided that with our Father missing, you should return and take up your creation rite."

"No," Castiel replied immediately. "No, I'm not going back. I'm staying with the Winchesters."

"You do not get a choice in this, child."

"Leave me alone! I'm not going with you!" Cas snarled.

There was a heartbeat and then Michael commented dryly, "I find it amusing that you think you can fight me."

"I can and I will," Castiel replied. "I'm not going back to Heaven."

"You are injured and weak," Michael chuckled. "You think you could stand against me?"

"Yes," Cas said, raising his head.

"I will not fight you, Cassiel," Michael said. "I came today because I sensed your Grace in danger. Uriel could have killed you. It is too dangerous down here for you. With Lucifer out of the cage and on Earth, he will discover you and you will be in grave peril. You will return to Heaven with me and take your position. You do not get a choice in the matter and if I have to, I will drag you back kicking and screaming. If I have to, I will wipe your memories of the Winchesters. You are coming with me, Cassiel. You will not -"

"And what? Michael just zapped you back here?" Sam said, sitting back in the Impala's passenger seat. The street lamps lit them dimly. There was hardly any cars on the road, so of course, Dean was breaking the speed limit. The Impala's engine rumbled in the background, soothing them.

"Yeah, leaving Cas there with him. He said he wanted to talk to him," Dean answered, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. "I'm worried, man. Real worried. Michael said they had plans for Cas, like, real plans. Said that Cas was confused and stuff, and he was going to fix that. I just can't help thinking something bad's gonna happen."

"Yeah, me too," Sam replied. Silence for a moment, and then Sam said quietly, "They all think we'll say yes."

"I know, it's getting annoying."

Sam looked out of the window. "What if they're right?"

Dean shook his head. "They're not."

"I mean, why, why would we, either of us? But...I've been weak before..." Sam was looking down at his lap, twisting his hands together.

"Sam, no. Don't," Dean groaned.

"Michael got Dad to say yes," Sam reminded him.

"That was different. Anna was about to kill Mom," Dean told him. "Are you tellin' me you're thinking about saying yes to Lucifer?"

"What? No!" Sam protested. "No, of course not. I just - if Michael got Dad to say yes -"

"Michael manipulated Dad," Dean said firmly. "That won't happen with us. We know about him and Lucifer. We know what they can do. They're dicks."

There was silence again, only the sound of tires on asphalt. It was companionable. They had already been driving for seven hours to get to Bobby's, on Cas' instructions. They were beginning to get worried. What could Michael possibly want with the younger Archangel?

Suddenly, there was a crash from behind them and a soft thump and a groan. Dean swerved the car, startled, before gaining control. Sam turned his whole body to see the blue-eyed dark-haired angel curled up on his side panting heavily with both hands on his bloody punctured chest. His trench coat and shirt were now red. Blood dripped onto the seat from his chest.

"Cas?!" Sam shouted. "What -"

"Son of a bitch, you made it," Dean said, relieved.

"Yes, I did. I'm very surprised. I'm sorry - I - It was a hurried landing," Castiel said in a strangled voice. "Dean, I apologise, I'm bleeding all over your car."

"I'll pull over," Dean said worriedly.

"NO!" Castiel protested loudly. "You can't! Michael's chasing us."

"Chasing us?! The hell did you say to him?!" Dean demanded, stepping down on the accelerator while glancing back at the injured bleeding angel in the back seat.

Cas coughed then answered, "He was going to drag me back to Heaven. He was ranting so I escaped while he wasn't looking. I used the extra energy he gave me to ward the car and shield myself from his search attempts while flying. He knows where the motel you were staying is, he'll be chasing after us."

"He can't find us, right? Those symbols on our ribs?" Dean questioned.

"He can't track you - but he can track me. Or, my vessel," Cas said, turning his head weakly. "He has my blood. He'd be able to pull up a tracking spell easily."

"Can you do anything to stop it?" Sam asked.

"Yes - I've placed wards - it took a lot of Grace, that's why I'm not healing," Cas explained through gritted teeth.

"Dude, that's a lot of blood," Sam said, looking concerned, motioning to the angel's still bleeding chest.

"Oh, er, yes," Cas answered, his eyes bleary. "How long will it take to get to Bobby's?"

"'Round an hour, why?" Dean asked.

"I think I can hold out that long," Cas breathed, closing his eyes and stretching out slightly with a grimace.

"Dean, pull the car over."

"NO!"

"Cas, it's okay, I'm just gonna get into the back with you and make sure you don't die before we get to Bobby's."

"You're not gonna die, right?" Dean asked hurriedly, anxious.

"Can humans die from losing blood?" Castiel asked, his voice weak.

"Yeah," Dean replied, worried. "Yeah, they can."

"You might want to go faster then."

When they finally got to Bobby's an hour later, Castiel was unconscious, breathing shallowly in small tiny pants and he must have spilt over half of his vessel's blood all over the Impala's back seat. His Grace had continued to leak out of the chest wound during the hour car ride with him, and Sam had desperately been trying to stem the flow with one of his spare plaid shirts. Luckily, Dean had phoned ahead, so Bobby was waiting outside for them in his wheelchair when they finally pulled up at the salvage yard as the sun was setting below the horizon.

"Get 'im inside," Bobby ordered, holding his shotgun tightly. "Quickly, boy!"

They laid the unconscious Archangel on a cot in Bobby's study, stripping him down to his waist and wiping up the blood with wet clothes before disinfecting the stab wound and loosely bandaging it. Cas must have been trying to heal it, because it was better and the glint of bone could no longer be seen through the flesh. Dean and Sam had got into a heated argument about stitching the wound, but Bobby had just yelled at them to shut up and ask the angel when he woke up.

Dean picked up some whiskey, settling on the sofa. "Well, I could use that drink now."

Sam grimaced, washing his hands of blood. "Yeah."

Dean poured two glasses and handed one to his brother as he came to sit down next to him. Bobby had gone back to researching another hunt already, leaving the brothers in charge of their injured ally. They watched the Archangel for a moment before turning back to nursing their drinks.

"Well...this is it," Dean sighed.

"This is what?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow while taking a sip.

"Team Free Will," Dean announced proudly. "One ex-blood junkie, one dropout with six bucks to his name, and Mr Comatose over there. It's awesome."

Sam looked down at his whiskey. "It's not funny."

Dean took a large gulp. "I'm not laughing."

"So what do you think Michael said to Cas? I mean, they're brothers, right? Cas said he was gonna drag him back to Heaven."

"I dunno, man. Michael kept going on about the Apocalypse being God's will and stuff. But really, who's he fooling? Cas is meant to be God's Son and have this massive connection to him, and he's fighting the Apocalypse. He's joined our side. What does that mean? To be truthful, I don't think even he knows what his Dad wants anymore." Dean gave a dark chuckle. "You think he'd do something, man. God, that is. I mean, his kids are nuking it out upstairs, killing each other, fighting over who gets to smite the Earth first and he doesn't even give a damn anymore. Just another dead-beat dad who couldn't care less about his kids."

"My Father is not neglectful."

The brothers looked up to find exhausted pained cobalt eyes gazing at them weakly. They stood up hurriedly and rushed to the angel's side. Castiel turned his head towards them slowly, shifting his arms and legs and blinking tiredly. He was trying to get up, weakly placing his arms underneath himself to try and lever himself off of the cot. All he achieved was half-dumping himself onto the cold floor. Dean and Sam quickly caught his falling side and gently placed him back onto the cot.

"Hey, Cas, take it easy. Stay there. How you feelin'?" Dean asked worriedly.

"My Father is not neglectful," Cas insisted, his voice slightly slurred.

"Of course not, Cas," Sam said quickly, because Dean's face had fallen he was frowning, about to reply with something that only could be offensive and nasty to the angel. "Whatever you say. How's your wound? Is it hurting?"

"No...no...you have'ta understan'," Cas was slurring at them, grabbing Dean by his sleeve and repeating once again in a desperate, insistent voice, "My Fath'der is not negle'tful, Dean. He's jus'... jus' givin' angels free will. Want us ta... make own cho'ces."

"Yeah, of course, Cas," Dean said, checking the angel's head for a fever. It was slightly warm, but not hot. It was probably just the exhaustion that was making the Archangel so delirious.

"He's used ta...used ta watch me flyin'," Cas told them, smiling weakly and tossing slightly, still tugging on Dean's wrist as Sam began checking the chest wound again. "Used ta say I was sooo fast."

"What?" Dean seemed surprised. "You've spoken to God."

"'Course, Dean," Cas replied, turning to him and staring with half-lidded blue eyes, riddled with tiredness and slight pain. "We had...what'adose things humans 'ave when they sit on blan'ets and eat lot'sa food outside?"

"Picnics," Dean supplied.

"Yeah, them. We use'sta 'ave picnics when I was'a fledg'lin'." Cas sighed sadly. "Don't see 'im anymore 'tho', he went 'way when Luc - Luc - Luc'fer 'ttacked Heaven. Didn' even say goodbye."

"Cas, do we have to stitch your wound?" Sam asked quickly, because the angel's eyes were closing.

"Wha - no, no, ya shouldn' 'ave to. Should 'eal up on it's 'own soon," Cas sighed. Then he fell back into unconsciousness with a small whimper, falling limp.

Sam finished checking the wound - it was now not as deep or as wide, definitely healing well - and replaced the bloody bandages before draping a blanket over the Archangel. Dean placed Cas' arms on the bed in a comfortable position before picking up the bottle of whiskey and pouring them both new glasses. Sam looked upset as he looked down into the potent amber spirit.

"I didn't even - I never even - wow," he finally said, looking up at his older brother. "That was - that was deep."

"Well then," Dean said, blinking. "God apparently used to have picnics with Cas."

After a moment, Sam questioned curiously, "I wonder what they had in their sandwiches."

Dean sent him a weird look. "Dude, the hell?"

Sam sent him bitch face no.23. "What? I'm curious."

"Yeah, ask Cas that when he wakes up. 'Hey Cas, just wondering, what kind of sandwiches did God eat?'" That's just messed up."

"He probably won't even remember telling us this," Sam said quietly, looking down at the Archangel sadly. "It's kind of depressing really. We always thought that God was frankly a -"

"Dick-headed douchebag, yeah, go on."

"But... I dunno. I kinda feel better know I know that he spent time with his kids," Sam said, with a small smile. "Especially if he spent time with Cas. I mean, it must have been such a massive shoulder weight to be the Heir to Heaven, to be born into something you couldn't escape from, even by running."

Dean's face softened. "Yeah, kinda like us."

Sam looked up, stunned. "That's not what I meant -"

"I know what you meant, Sammy," Dean said. "And yeah. I consider Cas my brother too."

Sam was silent for a moment, then he stated, "I think we should ask Cas to stick around, for a while. Just a hunt or two. He could use a break from this God hunting crap."

"Good idea. I'll leave you to convince him," Dean grinned widely, clapping him on the shoulder and walking towards the door with the whiskey bottle in hand.

"Wha - no, Dean! He likes you better!" Sam protested. "You ask him!"

"Hey, you wanted to ask Cas about God's sandwiches," Dean said, winking. "I'm givin' you the chance."

"Dean!" Sam protested loudly, embarrassed. "Dean!"

"Have fun, Sammy!" Dean called back, vanishing behind a corner into the yard, laughing.

"Jerk!" Sam shouted.

"Bitch!" Dean replied, his voice fading away.

Sam sighed and looked down at the unconscious angel below him. "So, I guess it's just you and me now, huh." He paused then wondered aloud, "Does God like pie?"

AN: thanks for reading! Please review! Love suggestions and ideas! Thanks!