Title: Everytime

Beta: None. All mistakes are my own.

Pairing: Cas/Dean

Time: S6:E22: The Man Who Knew Too Much

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its angels. Some dialogue is taken verbatim from the episode and so no copyright infringement intended. All rights go to Erik Kripke.

Note: Chapter Five is here! Yay! No double upload earlier this week, sorry. This chapter gave me a lot of trouble because I'm half sick, half worried about my placement Uni test tomorrow and half falling asleep. I kno? how can their be three halves? well, there are somehow three halves to me... must get that checked out.

So, what i did was make a schedule and set a day for every story i have. Of course, this falls under Fridays. So every Friday expect at least one upload from me.

This Chapter can be a bit all over the place but its on purpose. The way i see it, Castiel had all these souls inside of him and he's completely stable whilst Sam had one extra passenger (kinda?) and he's crackers? So... Cas is going slowly cuckoo for cocoa puffs.

"What have I done?

You seem to move on easy..."

There was a sort of crack on the wall where, upon my command, black smoke escaped and filled me. A still moment later, where I thought I was going to be suffocated alive, the smoke cleared and I felt... different. I had millions and millions of souls inside of me and yet, I felt oddly safe. With this power I could take on anyone, I could set things straight. Once everything was on the right track, Dean and I could be together.

That's all that mattered. Dean. Always Dean.

There was nothing to stop me from beating Raphael. It was my ultimate goal, to beat my brother at his own game. And I'd won, perhaps not fair and square and with a few more enemies but nothing in life is fair and simple.

I felt Dean calling out for me, asking and pleading for my help but I ignore it. Something inside me said this is was a wrong idea, a voice very familiar to Dean's, but I quickly squashed it down deep in my self-conscious. Its too late now for regrets... far too late.

A few days ago the voice, so deep and rich, begged me to not do this. Not to take in this multitude of souls and waste myself away. The voice pleaded, begged and even tried to bargain but it was all to no avail. It all went numb to my ears as I stared at those deep moss coloured eyes and wished, for the hundredth time, that things were different.

But they were not and so, staring deep into the abyss of those tearful eyes, I gave in to temptation.

There was nothing to stop me this time for I knew for certain it would be the last time I would be in Dean's arms. I could feel his reluctance as I pulled him close to me and kissed him. But he didn't resist. He kissed me back with as much fervour as he could muster, his hands pulling at my clothes to remove my trench coat. We were not in Bobby's study; Dean had found a stingy motel not far from the house and had called me. We had total privacy, for the first time, and there was nothing to stop me from showing him how sorry I felt.

"I love you," I whispered between kisses. "I love you."

He moaned as I undressed him, throwing him onto the bed and getting on top of him. I pressed my dressed body down to his naked form, pressing him down to the mattress with the roll of my hips. A shaky breath escaped him as I pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before claiming his lips. I nipped at his lower lip before kissing my way down his neck and to his already perked up nipples. He made no attempt to stop me as I sucked one of the nubs into my mouth, my eyes firmly planted on his face.

His eyes were blown wide with lust, his pupils as dark as any demons. It gave me a certain amount of pleasure knowing that I was the only one to cause such a reaction in him. That only I would see him this way, so pliant and needy.

But now that feels like it happened millions of years ago. The touch of his skin against mine, his lips against my body, have disappeared leaving only sadness behind. The only thing that is still with me, and perhaps will be with me until the end, is his voice on the verge of tears begging me not to do this. But I did and now, with these memories to hold me together, I close my eyes and locate Raphael.

Too bad they hadn't know they were using dog's blood instead of the concoction Crowley had made earlier. I appeared behind them, holding the empty jar in triumph. Dean's eyes lit up when he saw me only to narrow at the jar in my hands. Something inside me cracked a little but I ignored it and looked at my brother and the back stabbing demon.

"You said it perfectly," I said in answer to Crowley's confused look. "All you needed was this." I presented the jar to them, setting it down on the table and looking at Raphael as Crowley proclaimed they'd been working with dog blood. Too bad they hadn't figure it out later; they might have been able to stop me.

"Enough of these games, Castiel." Raphael, in his female vessel, tooks a bold step forward. "Give us the blood."

"You- Game's over." Crowley, taking in the empty jar and rolling his eyes at Raphael, said with sigh. He turned and asked me, "So, Castiel, how'd your ritual go? Better than ours, I'll bet."

I closed my eyes, a bright light erupted from my form briefly, and I sent a bit of my Grace to Dean while showing Raphael how powerful I'd become. The light faded away a moment later and when Dean looked up, our eyes connected for a brief second before he looked to Raphael who looked scared for the first time in a long time.

"You can't imagine what it's like," I said taking a step forward. "They're all inside me. Millions upon millions of souls... all inside me."

"Sounds sexy," Crowley commented. "Exit stage Crowley."

I let him disappear, I had plans for him but now all I cared about was defeating Raphael. The rage inside me startled me but one look at my brother and I understood. I must get my revenge. I must do this for Dean.

Raphael begged me for his life but I ignored him. How many times had I begged him to stop this foolish plan of re-starting the Apocalypse? How many of our brethren died because they wouldn't drop down to his level and beg for forgiveness? No, he deserved to die for everything we'd suffered. He deserved to die for leading me to this decision, for making me who I was today.

"I have plans for the demon," I told him. "You on the other hand..." I snapped my fingers much like Raphael did when I first confronted him in Heaven. I hoped he recognized the gesture before he exploded. His sword fell to the ground and I picked it up, a trophy from my victory. I turned to Dean and Bobby and said, "So, you see, I saved you."

There were many things that led to my demise, really. In retrospect, it hadn't been just pride and foolishness (although they were contributing factors) but the biggest was Dean. I'm not trying to put the blame on him, not at all but he was, still is, the reason why I am locked in an internal battle with the Leviathans for the control of my body.

A few days ago, while trying unsuccessfully to avoid thinking about Dean, I took a peak on their progress. Bobby had tried, and failed, at fixing some of the sigils and so I was allowed in.

Invisible to everyone, I walked among them and listened in. The slow progress at which they were going made me angry. And so, I furthered their cause by stealing a journal that might have been valuable. I knew Bobby had made copies of it, I wasn't stupid, and it got them back on track with finding Purgatory.

A few days after that, and my untimely revelation in my heaven, Dean called out for me. I was there before he could even finish saying my name. I tried to appear composed as I looked at his form like it was the first time, coveting him with a mere look of admiration. He blushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sweaty, nervous hand.

He had me at his beck and call, he knew it and I knew it. I would always come for him (in more ways than one) even if it was just to be yelled at. Just being in his presence made my Grace light up with unmentionable joy. We didn't do anything, I don't think Dean wanted anything but to make sure I was okay. And I was. A few hours later, however, things cracked around me.

I found him in an alley. I wasn't thinking, or perhaps I was and I just didn't have the willpower to stop myself. I did nothing for a second, standing behind him invisible to his human eyes. I looked at him, so normal for someone who had a cracking wall in his head. I knew what I had to do, I'd seen the wall when I'd made sure his soul was back. I knew its location, its purpose and, most of all, what it kept from coming forth.

My brother. I could sense his presence, or at least a tiny fraction of it, within Sam. But it didn't stop me from bringing down his wall a moment later as I materialized to his eyes and pressed two fingers to his forehead. There was a light and a crack, whether the noise was in my mind or real, I cannot say. But when the wall came tumbling down and Sam's eyes opened... I fled.

I'm not proud of what I did. I might even feel bad for doing it but it had bought me sometime and had prevented Dean from calling out for me. Well, he still called out but his 'prayer' was more shouting and cursing than sweet and loving. I wanted my last memories of the hunter to be... like my first. A tired, pissed off and frustrated hunter who would do anything to protect himself and his family. I wanted to leave Dean with another memory however and that made everything harder. And I failed.

Eleanor was dead when I appeared. I'd taken her, everyone knew that but I had not wished her death. She was, after all, an abomination but she hadn't hurt anyone for a long time. None of it mattered because, in the end, she was evil. I felt no remorse as I flew down and landed behind Sam and Dean.

"I'm sorry this had to happen," I told them. Bobby stood up and charged at me. "Crowley got carried away."

That didn't satisfy the older hunter. He tried to get at me but the Winchester's stopped him. I almost felt bad, almost, at seeing the man who kept everyone else together be so... broken. Bobby did not deserve this but, at that point, I was not me anymore.

"You don't even see it, do you? How totally off the rails you are!"

"Dean..." Sam warned.

"No, Sammy," Dean replied. "I'm done with this crap! He's not Cas anymore; he'd this empty thing in Cas' body. He's not the man I-"

"Enough!" I yelled hurriedly. I didn't want to hear the end of the sentence, already my body ached with an unfamiliar pain and my hands were going numb. What this feeling was... was very unfamiliar but I did not wish to feel it anymore. "I've tried to make you understand. You won't listen. So let me make this simple. Please, go home and let me stop Raphael. I won't ask again."

"Well good, 'cause I think you already know the answer," Dean replied sternly.

"I wish it hadn't come to this," I said, shaking my head sadly. "Well rest assured, when this is all over, I will save Sam, but only if you stand down."

I removed his wall a few days later and since then... I haven't been able to face Dean. I made a mistake in that aspect, I realize that now, by not only breaking down Sam's wall but by commanding them to stand down. I should have know better than to tell them to step aside while the big bad angel cracks open Purgatory and gets souls. I was stupid and very... naïve.

As I was later on when Crowley gave me the jar of blood. I renegotiated our deal, without his approval and that had Crowley mad but... surprisingly cool. I'd expected something like what happened a few weeks ago when I killed some of his demons. But nothing of a sorts... he seemed rather happy to comply, for Crowley that is.

When Balthazar appeared I knew I was done for. I knew of his betrayal and how he'd helped the Winchester's but ... somehow, knowing that my best friend in heaven had chosen them over me hurt beyond anything else.

Worst of all was his understanding of my situation. He knew my feelings and he knew me better than anyone yet he... tried to play his betrayal off even though, I'm sure; he knew what was going to happen.

"Uh, but what do you want me to do about Dean?" Balthazar asked as if weighing down my thoughts on the human. he knew how I felt about Dean and it was how he measured my mood throughout the day.

"Nothing," I replied. "I'll handle him myself."

There was a tense silence when I debated killing him over sending him on a wild goose chase. But I wasn't good at deceiving people whereas Balthazar was the master at it and would be able to see my lie for what it was. I prepared my angel blade, turning it between my fingers.

"Castiel? Are you alright?"

"First Sam and Dean, and now this. I'm doing my best in impossible circumstance," I turned to Balthazar and, nipping at my bottom lip, tried to make him understand before I killed him. "My friends, they abandon me, plot against me. It's difficult to understand, brother. I feel regret and remorse but most of all, loneliness."

"Well, you've – you've always got little old me," Balthazar said, unsure. He could feel what was about to happen and he didn't stop it. When I appeared behind, he tenses but doesn't fly away.

I pressed the blade against him, harshly, and said my last words to him. "Yes, I'll always have you. Thank you, brother."

"Cas..." Balthazar whimpered out before I stabbed him with the blade. His light fills the room as his Grace dies. I feel remorse once more but it is quickly gone.

When the ritual began I felt uneasy. I stood alone in am empty building with nothing but the incantation and the blood concoction. I was alone... and it felt wrong. I kept looking over my shoulder hoping to see green eyes walk towards me to stop me or join me. It didn't matter at this point. But I was alone.

When I killed Raphael, surrounded by Dean's scent, I felt complete. Funny enough, I would die seeing his eyes in my mind. I would die listening to his throaty voice as he reached climax under me repeating my name like a mantra. I wouldn't picture the horrified look he gave me when I refused to let the souls be taken away or when I said I had other angels to take care off. I wouldn't picture his hurt expression as I spoke with a voice that was my own yet not.

I would recall his impassionate speech and how ... it hurt to hear him say it. I would recall his tearful eyes and stern mouth set in a line as he finished.

"Listen to me," he pleaded. "I know there's a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I'd have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you... please. I've lost everyone; don't make me loose you too. I don't think I can take loosing you, Cas."

But I didn't listen. My mind was gone... completely obliterated by the raging war that was inside me. The war that I didn't know I was loosing until the end.

"You're not my family, Dean," I told him without looking at him. It was a lie, he knew it and I knew it and I couldn't face him as I said it. "I have not family."

I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't the same Castiel... I was something less than that. I was nearly... demonic. I could tell that at that very moment something in me was slowly shattering. For a moment I thought perhaps it hadn't been Sam's wall that I'd broken down but my own. My thoughts were muddled, obscure and dark. Never before had I felt so human.

Sam stabbed me with a blade but it was to no affect. I wasn't an angel anymore. I was an abomination, even if I tried to deny it to myself.

"I'm not an angel anymore," I told them. "I'm your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, you Lord," I looked right at Dean and begged him to bow down. When he didn't, I added, "Or I shall destroy you."

Literally dying on the inside until next Friday when Cas comes back! Misha Collins, how dare ye excite these feelings? *Hugz* We want Castiel back, now, damnit! I squealed so loud i think i scared my cats and my mum. So excited for next week!