Castiel's vessel was barely holding together, bleeding bright blue light from every pore. It whisped away as soon as it met the air, leaving the angelic feather duster steaming in the sunlight.

Watching everything through the film of darkness, Dean couldn't take his eyes from Castiel. He had never seen the angel like this. This strange bright light overshadowing his human vessel. As if the body holding him all together was an afterthought, something slapped together. Before this, Dean would have said that Castiel's vessel had been attractive to the right people, now, he could see how wrong he had been. There was very little on this earth that could compete with the beauty of Castiel's angelic form.

It had been the same with Crowley, the sudden realization that the vessel he inhabited meant so very little. As he and Crowely stood, staring down the angel, Dean could feel the heat of Crowley's twisted and decadent soul leaching over as if to thaw the ice that had replaced his blood. Wouldn't that be a kicker. If it really was Crowley's heat that melted away the demon in him, and Castiel's icy blue that caused it to rally again, to throw itself again and again against the cage, screaming for blood.

When the thought crossed his mind, he wondered if Crowley had planned it that way. Maybe the demon hadn't, but Dean knew the laugh Crowley would give if Dean ever voiced that thought. Maybe he would tell him. Wait till the demon had a glass of craig in his hand and blood splattered across both their faces, and then tell him.

"Have we reached a deal than, kitten?" Crowley's purred question drew Dean back. He wasn't sure where Castiel's nickname comes from, but Crowley had it backwards. The demon was the so called cat in the equation, all purrs and sheathed claws, with a determination to wind himself around the feet of those with an evasion to felines. Crowley was the predator. Castiel was something else entirely. Something Dean wasn't sure there was a name for on this earth.

Castiel's gaze had been locked on Crowley during the entire meeting. Now it skittered to Dean, lines marring the skin around his eyes. Even that small action caused more blue to evaporate into the fading light. The angelic bird didn't look like he had much time before he spent all of his grace. What a crying shame.

"Please, Dean." Castiel said, voice even rougher than normal. "Sam and I, we could fix you."

For all of a nanosecond, Dean considered it. Considered returning with Castiel, spending the nights drinking with his brother, using his newfound powers to vanquish monsters. Saving people, hunting things, the family business. But if he returned, he wouldn't get to tear bodies to the breaking point, grin at the familiar feel of boiling blood splattered across him. Sam and Cas would try to put up with him, but behind his back, they would be trying desperately to fix him. And why bother trying to fix him. He was cursed. He was broken. Human, demon, it didn't matter. This was what he loved. The feeling of power in his hands as he held the power to end a person's life. He was the monster that Sam hunted and Castiel couldn't stand to see.

And as far as he was concerned, for the first time in his life, he didn't need saving.

Have a longer one to make up for being gone. Sorry peeps. But yay, ambigious Crowlean / Desiel feels? Speaking of which, I have a Crowlean/Drowley/Whateverthefuckwecallitnow posted for anyone whose interested. ;D