It was extremely unnatural for that many reapers to gather at one place. The demon was correct: there was great evil in that town. If I knew then what I know now, I would not have left the group to seek out the reason for their gathering. I should have stayed and helped. Maybe if I had, Ellen and Jo Harvel would still be alive. But I didn't save them. My curiosity was too strong, so I wandered into that empty building to come face to face with the angel himself: my older brother, the one to blame for this whole mess, Lucifer.

I'd walked right into a trap. Holy fire surrounded me, now and there was no way out. How could I have been so stupid. This was Lucifer; of course he knew I was coming. "Castiel, right?" he asked. I nodded, feeling so incredibly inferior. "Castiel," he murmured to himself. "I'm told you cam here in an automobile."

"Yes…." I was unsure of his motive for such as question.

"What was that like?"

The small talk caught me off guard, but I figured it best to just go along with it. "Umm… slow, confining," I answered, truthfully.

My brother eyed me thoughtfully. "What a peculiar thing you are." He was right, I was not like any other angel, but I was glad of it. It didn't bother me that he was disgusted with my love for humans, after all, he was deteriorating before my eyes. The skin of his vessel was scarred and peeling away. He looked sickly, like he would not last much longer. He needed Sam Winchester, but that was not going to happen so long as I could help it.

In a heat of passion, I nearly overstepped my boundaries of the circle of holy fire. My brother smirked at me. "You are not taking Sam Winchester. I won't let you."

"Castiel," he started, his tone pleading in a playful way. "i don't understand why you're fighting me. Of all the angels." I

"You really have to ask?"

"I rebelled; I was cast out. You rebelled'; you were cast out. Almost all of Heaven wants to see me dead, and if they succeed, guess what? You're their new public enemy number one. We're on the same side, like it or not, so why not just serve your own best interest… which in this case just so happen to be mine?"

I hated that he was comparing us. I was not like him. So very carefully, I answered, "I'll die first."

He looked back at me, eyes almost saddened by my answer. "I suppose you will."

Though my brother did not know me, I remember him when he still lived at home. Everyone loved Lucifer. He was charming and strong, intelligent and brave. He was everything that an angel should be. And we all knew that our father loved him most of all. That is why it hurt so much when he fell. The day he disobeyed God, we all felt our father's heart break. I could not understand why, if he loved God so much, why he would rebel like he did. Now was my chance to ask him, but I was afraid of his answer. I was afraid that I would come to understand, be seduced by his unlimited freedom and end up exactly like him. So I stood in my circle of fire, ignoring his questions and remarks to me. He was trying to annoy me, to get me to react. But I would not give him the satisfaction.

Eventually, he left to preform his ritual to raise Death from his cage, and I was left alone with his daughter, Meg. Now, a demon I could most certainly handle. I set my sights on a large pipe hanging from the ceiling, and while we chatted, i unscrewed its bolts. "We're going to Heaven, Clarence!" she laughed, so pleased with her father's work.

"Strange, 'cause I heard a different theory from a demon named Crowley," I challenged her.

Her face fell. "You don't know Crowley."

Smirking, I continued, "He believes that Lucifer is just using demons to achieve an end, and then once he does, he'll destroy you all." I began to twist out the final bolt, my plan at distracting her working just as I'd hoped.

She was upset and squared her shoulders at me, not paying any attention to what was happening above her. "You're wrong. Lucifer is the father of our race, our creator." Her lips tugged into a smile as she prepared to hurt me. "You're dad may be a deadbeat, but mine walks the Earth." And with that last remark, the pipe fell free, knocking her forward, into my arms, just as I'd planned. I pushed my palm against her forehead to extract the demon from the girl, but nothing happened. Meg began to laugh. "You can't gank demons, can you? You're cut of from the home office, and you aint got the juice. So what can you do, you impotent sap?"

Her taunting just drove me on even better. I leaned forward very close to her face. "I can do this," I answered, pushing her over into the flames that confined me. She screamed in pain as the holy fire licked at her vessel. Without giving it a second thought, I stepped on her back and out of my prison to go and save the Winchesters, hoping to God that I wasn't too late. I arrived in the field, just before the ritual was finished. In an instant, I touched the boys foreheads and transported the three of us back to Bobby Singer's house.

There wasn't much talk that night, but a lot of mourning. Ellen and Jo were wonderful women who were greatly missed by all of us. I blamed myself that they did not make it passed the Hell Hounds. If I had not gone after the reapers, I could have held off the beasts so that everyone could have made it out alive. I knew this, and could not bring myself to look at Bobby or the boys. Because of me, their friends were dead. I went back to the porch swing that had brought me so much comfort the previous night, and closed my eyes pretending the wind that blew across my skin was the same that had against Dean and I. But suddenly I was no longer alone. Opening my eyes, I saw that Sam had joined me on the swing. "I'm sorry about your friends," I told him.

"Yeah," he nodded. "They were good hunters and even better people. Ellen had known my dad for a long time, but we never met her until a few years ago. But she became like a mom to us instantly. I can't help but feel like I let her down." He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. "Why can't I save anyone, Cas?"

His question caught me by surprise. "You save people all of the time, Sam."

"Do I really? 'Cause it doesn't seem to do any good. I mean, I started the apocalypse, Cas. That's not something that a hero does. I saw how many people Lucifer killed just to get his way. And none of those people would have died if I hadn't released him in the first place."

"It is true that you have made mistakes in the past. So has Dean. So has Bobby. And I have more than any of you. But the present is the time to make up for our previous blunders. I have faith in you, Sam. You and your brother are very special."

Sam nodded and smiled sadly at me. "Dean's in pretty bad shape. You should go talk to him." I stood up and headed for the door but stopped when Sam said, "He likes you, you know. He may not tell you so, but I know him."

With Sam's words still swimming through my mind, I make my room up to Dean's room. I find him sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees and staring straight ahead at the wall in front of him. His face is lined in sorrow, lips turned down into a deep frown that rests below tear stained cheeks. There is no fight in his eyes. This is a Dean that no one gets to see. This is not the warrior that so constantly saves the day. After I had raised Dean from Hell, this was so common what I would find him like whenever he was alone. And I never could stand it… especially now that we had grown so close. Slowly, I walked into the room and sat down next to him of the bed. He was startled by my sudden appearance, but seeing that it was me, he settled back down, his shoulders still hunched. Without saying a word, I took his hand in my own, just as I had the previous night. He squeezed my hand and exhaled a shaky breath. "What am I doing, Cas?" he whispered. I kept quiet for there was no answer that would make things better for him. "Everyone who tries to help me just ends up dead… and I can't stand it anymore, man. I just can't." His voice cracked, so he paused, holding tighter onto my hand. "If I keep saying no to your brother, how many more people are going to die in my place? And what if they go after Bobby next? Or Sam? Or you?" He finally looked at me with wet eyes so full of longing. "I can't lose you guys, so what am I doing?"

"I believe in you, Dean." He shook his head and looked downwards, but I drew his eyes back to mine. "This fight is not one that just anyone can take on. It needs someone special, and that is you. I'm sorry about your friends, and I know how hopeless it all seems… but I know that we will win. You prove to me over and over again that you are worth the faith, so yes, I believe in you."

Everything seemed to slow at that moment. My breath didn't seem to come, and neither did his. His eyes bore into my own, but blinked down to study my mouth. My heart made loud thumps in my chest, but each beat seemed to take a lifetime. And then he was leaning into me, but my brain could not work out what that meant until our lips brushed one another's. Dean's mouth had fascinated me for a while up to that point, but nothing could beat the feel of it on my own. His lips where gentle as they pulled at mine that were unpracticed. But I knew what to do, so I kissed him back. I felt his breath in my mouth and felt like I might drown. This was what love felt like, and though I didn't want it to stop, I did not press further when he pulled away. "I'm sorry," he said, quickly, releasing my hand and standing up. "I'm so out of my head right now. That was really… can we just forget that ever happened?"

Now he was finding it difficult to look me in the eyes, so I nodded. "Whatever you want, Dean."

I was confused. In my experience of watching Earth, kissing was a sign of affection, of love. Dean had kissed me, so he should care for me, but then why would he want to pretend it hadn't happened? Was it something I had done? Had I done it wrong? Frustration engulfed me and I hung my head and pulled at my hair. These distractions would not save the world. If I kept letting these human emotions take hold of me, nothing would be accomplished.

The next few months were of no significance. I helped the boys with cases, and Dean and I did not mention our kiss. Things between us were the same as they ever were. I told myself that that was good, but I wished they were different. I wanted to replay that night when were so intimate, but I knew that could and would not happen. So I focused on keeping him and Sam safe. Zachariah continued to pester them, so I was forced to block them from him whilst they were temporarily sent to Heaven.

And when I wasn't watching over the boys, my ongoing search for God continued. I was so determined, and so foolish. I prayed to my father every night, begging for him to just show himself to me. I needed his help so badly. I felt so alone. So helpless. But he didn't come to me. He didn't say a single word or give me any signs. He was as silent as he always was. How could he do this to me? I had always loved him so dearly and obeyed his every word. I defended him against my brothers and against the humans who doubted him. I had not once doubted him in my entire life, and he could not even help me this once.

Alone: such a small word seems unable to embody such a feeling. I was alone in the universe. My brothers and sisters were right, if our father was alive, he did not care enough to help me. That or he was simply dead. I mourned for both of the possibilities. I mourned for my absent father and for the siblings who hunted me for betraying them. And I mourned for the Winchesters. I still believed in them, but at times of such tragedy it was hard to always have faith. They were only human, so they could very well fail. And all of this would be for nothing. I had given everything for Dean, to save him and his brother and his world. But now it all seemed to be crashing down upon me. Without God, we were left to our own devices. I was scared, and I did not know how to deal with that.

My brothers and sisters were always telling me that I had too much heart. They were right. Too much heart was my problem. That was also the problem with the human race. They all care so much. Those days, with my head so full of human emotions, I did the only thing that I could think of. If I was turning into a human, I might as well act like one. So I drank.