Chapter 4: If I Die Young
"Why the fuck is he here?"
"Sam-"
"Don't fucking say a word to me!"
"Watch where you're throwing shit in my damn house, boy!"
"Sam, please."
Bobby caught the surviving Winchester as he launched himself at the fallen angel. Castiel didn't bother to flinch, staring straight at Sam with eyes that read uncaring. His scruff was unruly, hair messy as though he hadn't run a brush through it in some weeks. A few wisps fell across his eyes, the sides brushing the tips of his ears. And Sam could give a shit less if he looked like he hadn't slept since he had fallen.
"Get a hold of yourself!" Bobby barked angrily, pushing the younger man back until he stumbled over the sofa.
Sam huffed angrily, eyes never leaving Castiel, "You better have a good reason to be here."
Cas nodded at him slowly, looking at the floor, "I need to tell you both something. And you might not believe me."
"Well? Spit it out, boy," Bobby gritted after a short silence.
"It's about…" his eyes wavered to Sam and away, "Dean."
A bright anger seemed to burn in Sam as he surged forward, grabbing the ex-angel by the shoulders and pushing him towards the door, "Get out."
"Sam!" The older man threw his hands in the air helplessly.
Cas let himself be dragged limply onto the porch, taking a punch in the jaw almost as if he wanted it. He covered his eyes with a hand as he lay on his back. Sam trod past him angrily to kick over a lawn chair, sending it to crash into a stationary beat up Chevy. Bobby leant against the door, eyes closed and head tilted toward the heavens.
"I'm so sorry…" came a small whimper, "I… It was me. I know it was me. I killed him."
No sympathy filled Sam as he gazed at the fallen angel on the dirt covered porch. He couldn't bring himself to care that the man looked near death, that his former stature had been reduced to a sniveling mess. Cas pulled himself up to a sitting position, head cradled in his hands as he sobbed dryly.
"And if I could take it back, I would," he breathed as he looked up at Sam, "You have to believe me."
"I don't care."
"Harsh."
All three men snapped their heads towards the voice. Dean stood at the bottom of the porch steps, face drawn tight in anger. He seemed to float on the steps on his way to Castiel. He kneeled, eyes never leaving Sam's face as he ghosted a hand over Cas' cheek.
"Get up," he said softly, the look in his eyes as he gazed into Cas' said everything.
You're better than this.
"Dean…?" Sam stumbled forward a bit, eyes wide.
"Yep. Not in the flesh though."
Dean tried to keep his anger in check; the last thing he wanted was to become violent. Especially against his baby brother, even if he was being a grade A douche bag. Sam stared at him then at Castiel.
"This is what you came to tell me…" he muttered, not much like a question.
Castiel nodded anyway, leaning against a rafter to support his tired body. He could feel the energy radiating off of Dean and into him, almost as if Dean was sharing to keep him upright. Bobby stayed silent, eyes trained on Dean's apparition. He turned to go into the house, returning with a carton of salt.
"Bobby…" Dean fixed him with a glare.
"For precaution, boy."
Dean pursed his lips and tilted his head, hands up, "Fair enough. Missed you."
"Not as much as I've missed your smart ass mouth."
The older Winchester chuckled before settling his gaze back on his baby brother. Sam still stared at the weak Castiel whose own eyes were trained on the floor, red and puffy.
"No.." Sam whispered.
"Sam," Dean sighed.
"No," he said louder now, "I'm not going to let you do this."
Castiel's eyes raised to his, "Do what, Sam?"
"Sam, stop it," Dean pleaded.
"You can't kill him and think that if you bring him back half assed then everything is okay. It doesn't work like that," he moved closer to Cas now, finger pressed close to his chest, "You're reckless and selfish. You ruined my brother long before you killed him."
"Stop!" the deceased yelled angrily.
"I know how you felt about him, I know everything," he continued on, "But you couldn't have him. You know why Castiel? Because you're weak. And a dick."
"Sam, stop it or I will become corporeal and kick your fucking ass," Dean muttered dangerously.
Sam looked at him, "Why are you defending him? He got you killed Dean."
"It wasn't his fault," his eyes met pain filled brown ones, "I know how hard this has been for you Sammy. But you have to stop blaming him for something he couldn't control."
The younger Winchester seemed to scoff, eyes meeting Cas' before returning to his brother's, "You mean… he didn't tell you?"
Dean was taken back, "Didn't tell me…?"
Sam met Cas' eyes again, "Fucking pathetic."
Cas looked down in shame, eyelids slipping closed.
"Didn't tell me what, Cas?"
"Dean…" Cas looked back up at him, "Don't do this."
With that, Castiel headed down the stairs and back up the road.