In the beginning it was hilarious. Castiel was so surprised by the taste of vanilla ice cream that he came up from the ground in to a sitting position, totally entitled by the taste. He needed a long time to find out what just happened. He sat there for a while with his head inclined. His tongue licked his lips and his eyes suddenly shot wide open from the cold sugar rush. Sam and Dean started to laugh. And the angel grinned with them. Then his jaw tensed up and he closed his eyes while his brow furrowed in confusion. It was so funny. All those facial expressions that they were seeing the first time, so clearly, on Cas. It was impossible not to laugh.

Until this whole situation had gotten seriously out of hand.

...

Letting him take the first bite of the ice was a battle, though. The angel warned Dean that 'if he tortured him again, with that cold stuff, pushing it against his lips and repeatedly asking him to eat it, he would zapp himself away.' But when he let the cold sensation melt on his tongue, he was amazed by the many things he tasted.

The second bite troubled him. He felt so many things he didn't like to feel. Not now, at least.

"This strange substance makes me sad. It is partly made from depressed cows. And a lot of plants that never had been able to feel the fresh air, like me. Everything is clouded with additions to create a whole new flavor to. Why did they mess with God's creations?"

Third bite Dean fed him, was getting very difficult. The angel sighed deeply and shook his head in sorrow.

"Why is nobody listening to them. Their eyes begging for freedom. They are not things. They wear their own souls, have their own tasks. Besides, the original plan was perfect. Look what you all made of it." The angel looked at Dean now deep in the eyes as if Castiel blamed him for everything. Although, Dean didn't react because he thought Castiel was just raving from the high fever. He just kept feeding him. He tried, though.

"Why are you showing me this feeling? Dean. What is the point? I don't want to feel what the cows and plants have to say. My head is too full of my own problems, right now."

Dean nodded and pushed the spoon against Cas' lips. Almost forcing the ice inside. But Cas didn't let him anymore. He pushed his hand away, angry. It turned his head even more reddish.

"It's not my fault that everything is gone wrong, Dean. I cannot do anything for them to change this," the angel said angrily but also very sad. All those emotions Cas was showing was something new and Dean began to wonder whether this is a good thing.

He felt almost guilty by feeding him a little ice cream to calm his fever down.

"Uh, relax, Cas. It's just ice. It's not that I am trying to kill you or anything," he muttered confused.

But Sam had a different idea. He grabbed the spoon from Dean's hands and took the ice bucket also. It was clear that Dean did not quite understand where the angel was raving all about. But Sam believed he understood him. He could at least place it. It indicated that if Castiel ever was forced to eat and drink like a human being, he probably had to eat organic products. Products that weren't tampered with. That will be difficult for them if Cas was planning to stay with them. Knowing the bad places they were eating all the time.

"Dean. Stop with giving him that. I believe that Castiel is getting a little too overwhelmed. Right, Castiel?" Sam was startled by the frightened face of the angel. The pupils in his eyes were so big that the blue color was completely gone. A new shade of sweat made his face shine like plastic. A disturbing feeling welled up in him when he saw the angel started to shake and sway from his sitting position. He knew something bad was going to happen.

"Castiel?"

While the angel sighed deeply and looked down at his swaying body, feeling the same distress as the younger brother felt, he saw that some blood was dripping on to his bare chest. Both nostrils were bleeding hard now.

"Oh, God. Give me the shirt, Sam," Dean mumbled and swept the blood away while he was closing his nose, with two fingers.

"Pull your head back, Cas."

Castiel could not get a word out by now, and began to convulse violently. Unable to do what Dean was asking.

"Wow wow wow. Cas? Oh shit, Sam. I think he's going in to shock. We need to cool him fast!" cried Dean out to his brother. Startled as hell.

Castiel looked the youngest Winchester for a moment before he gave himself completely over to the gravity. The taste of sorrow still flowed through his body and he felt terribly helpless. His rosy cheeks faded slowly into a greener hue and began to swallow laboriously. Overwhelmed by all those new perceptions of his vessel, the angel looked around. Everything around him became to tilt and that made him awfully dizzy. He wanted to stay upright so badly that he grabbed one of Sam's arms. When he tried to look at him, Sam was a blurry mess too.

"Sam. Get out of the way man. He is gonna puke,-" one voice came through his hazy mind. It was Dean. What did he mean? What was he going to do?

And just like that, he could do nothing more than fight against the burning taste in his mouth. He had never felt this bad before. He needed to lose that bile before he burned his throat. Almost automatically he began to retch violently. Sounds starting to mix up with each other, like the clouds, the branches of the tree, the moss and the rug where he was sitting on did; a front of his eyes.

A voice suddenly sounded nearby and Castiel realized he felt Sam's cheek pressing against his neck. Several hands went up to him. And they did something, causing the ground to disappear from underneath. It was confusing. But suddenly he saw Dean, squatting a front of him. His voice sounded strange.

"-Heart attack or something ... water ... stop ... Cas! Cas! ... convulsions ... " There was so much going on around him ... why did he felt so far away?

Something dripped down on his neck. His chest felt terrible, now he was breathing harder. At the same time he was so sick that he could feel his organs squirm around inside him.

"-What a mess ..." the voices around him still went on.

Suddenly he found himself sobbing into the arms of Dean and he buried his head against the chest of him.

Crying.

Full of panic.

And that was pretty much everything before the lights went out.

...

Hours later Castiel opened his eyes again. He was back in the motel room. Spread flat on to the bed. His head was on a strange pillow. And when Castiel tried to see what was wrong with the pillow he felt a hand on his head. Fingers began to caress through his hair. It felt so good.

There was a loaded sigh from above him.

"Calm down Cas. You are terribly sick, buddy." It was Dean who supported his head. The pillow was made from his lap. Now that Castiel looked again he saw the bottom of Dean's chin and a large palm to his head but it kept stroking.

And Castiel sighed deeply of this sensation. It was nice. But the sadness of the oldest Winchester was seeping through his fingers. Castiel could feel it clearly. And that made the angel feeling worse about the whole situation. Something has happened to him. And now the oldest Winchesters is very sad because of it.

He knew that something had gone wrong with his vessel. But he couldn't remember what that something was. His mind was very empty at the moment. Very foggy.

Castiel just wiggled his toes. Then his fingers. One by one. He was pleased that they were still working besides his numb feeling. But when he wanted to take a deep breath he felt a terrible pain in his chest. Coughing and gasping, the angel struggled to breathe. Everything felt so heavy. And he was so lightheaded. It was such a strange feeling. What was happening to him?

When he tried to think deeply he was shocked when he realized that he couldn't remember a thing since he was lying peacefully under the weeping willow, this beautiful sunny afternoon.

What had happened? Why was he here? Why he felt so weak? And why he had such difficulty in breathing?

"D-Dean?"

The hand on his head stopped stroking and again there was a loaded sigh.

"Calm down, buddy. Focus on your breathing. You must be confused. That's understandable, man. We almost lost you, today." Castiel frowned his empty head and did what Dean asked him. He focused on his breathing. Meanwhile, he listened to the breathing of Dean. It was nice to have a rhythm to follow from someone who was very calm.

"W-where's S-Sam," Castiel asked. He looked up at the strange angle of Dean's chin, above him. Dean acted very soft and gentle. He even started stroking his hair again. It was a whole other side that Castiel had never seen from him before. It was confusing. But not in an annoying way. Maybe he was this nice because he was his family now. Like Sam said this morning.

"Sam's ... he is getting some medicine for your fever. And some painkillers. Maybe even some blood, if he's lucky." At the word: blood, his voice faltered. Castiel looked up with confused eyes in to two sad green ones.

"Is that for me? W-what have I done? I-I ... please, Dean. Tell me."

He realized that the green eyes were staring at him deeply, for a while now.

"Y-you went south, man. You vomited blood. A lot of it. And then you went into shock after that. We had to drag you into the water before you calmed. Your heart stopped for a moment, by that ridiculously high temperature of yours. We had to resuscitate you, man. It was a mess."

Castiel saw the seriousness in Dean's eyes. The elder Winchester was remarkably sad over him. Or he was just sad that he ruined is day at the water.

"Sorry, Dean. I-I did not mean to scare you and your brother like that." That phrase came out with sharp huffs. His ribs creaked painfully and he began to cough. There was clearly something wrong with his chest.

"Stop saying you're sorry about everything, Cas. It's not your fault."

A long silence overpowered the room...

Sometime Castiel breathed along with the slow breathe of Dean and his unexplained shooting pains in his chest eased. A flurry of fatigue gained on to the angel again and he couldn't do nothing more than just listen to Dean's breathings. Again, the hand started to caress through his hair and Castiel sighed while closing his eyes.

Castiel didn't know how long it had been since someone spoke again but when he opened his eyes, nothing seemed to have changed much. The only thing that had changed was that Sam was there now. Beside his brother het sat on to a chair with a bowl filled with water. He was fumbling with a white wet cloth. The youngest Winchester was so busy wringing out the cloth and folding it into a rectangle, with all his deepest care and concentration he had, that he probably hadn't noticed that Castiel was awake again. But Dean had seen it. He looked down at him with a deep frown.

"Hey, Cas," he said softly.

It was strange. The combination of emotions in that voice. Partly because Castiel couldn't recognize all of God's given emotions. But he recognized his relief. But also sorrow. That was a strange combination. Certainly for Dean.

Meanwhile Sam was now turned towards him with the same look of these mixed emotions as his brother. The wet cloth disappeared back into the wet bowl. The concentration and care had suddenly disappeared. Again the white cloth was crumples and wet and dropped in the bowl. Unimportant, now that he was awake.

For a while Castiel had thought deeply about what was happening to him. And now that he was a bit more awake, with a clearer head, he came to a conclusion. Thanks to his strange state of trance or sleep he could think again. And what he find out was probably not good news for them. He felt himself struck with an odd emotion. It felt heavy and uncomfortable. Almost the same as fear. But milder than panic. Castiel was too tired to go deeper into this feeling and sighed deeply before he began.

"I think I know what's wrong with me, Dean."

After that sentence, Castiel took another deep breath. Talking cost him so much more trouble than it had bin. But at least the pain was lesser now. Meantime the faces came closer to him because he probably talked very soft. Castiel frowned moment and took another deep breath and hoped that he had more power to speak a little louder.

"My... vessel... t-thinks that my form of energy is some kind of a virus, now that my Grace can't maintain it anymore. Every cell, every part… of this body will fight against me. Until it dies… I'll probably die if I do nothing against it." Angel blinked slowly with his glassy eyes as he looked at the elder Winchester. Dean was remarkably calm now, while he stroked his black hair back gently. Sam had placed a hand on him. Probably because he was feeling weaker by the second. He laid it gently on his rattling chest. It took some time before he could make his point clearer. He did his best to look in to the boys' eyes. Castiel was shocked by the feeling that they already knew that Cas was about to die. Maybe that was why they were so sad.

"Yeah. We figured that part out already, man. You already died ones, this afternoon. So you aren't allowed to die on us again. You'll just have to figure out another option." Typical Dean. Always a fighter. Even for his life now.

Castiel nodded. He so wanted another option. He just wasn't that bright to think of one at the moment.

"There are options… right?" Sam asked eager. A sudden pain was settling in his chest. After a coughing fit Cas remained his balancing breathings again and licked his lips to reply softly.

"... I have a choice to make." And Dean nodded. Sam did the same and cleared his throat.

"Letting go of Jimmy, you mean?" Sam asked softly. Castiel was suddenly very tired and dizzy and closed his eyes for a moment. The hand on his head stilled, and Sam's hand on his chest strengthened softly.

"We talked about a lot of things we could do to help you. We called Bobby earlier, when you were out. He said that a vessel could die instantly when the angel was out of powers. That is if the body still has an intact soul. The great amount of heavenly white light is too much to bare for a human," Sam explained.

"That's how we know you are screwed," Dean filled in. The angel said nothing. So Sam continued while shooting a concerned look at his brother.

"He is looking for some kind of spell to restore your Grace. But didn't find anything, yet." His hand still on Castiel's bruised chest. They probably had cracked some ribs during the CPR.

"I-it will leave Jimmy comatose for the rest of his life," Castiel finally squeezed through his cracked lips. "He is too far gone by now." The pain was getting worse now he was more and more awake.

"Don't mind about looking for a spell… My Grace is ... not coming back. Not in time, I'm afraid. To damaged by the fever already… C-can't leave my vessel… can't go to heaven, either. " Dean sighed. Clearly disagreeing.

"Is there no other way? Can't you call an angel-friend? You are not just giving up on us, are ya?"

There was a sad silence.

A long time Castiel thought deeply. There had to be another solution. Jimmy was long gone. He couldn't safe him anymore. He promised Jimmy to leave his daughter Claire alone. So that wasn't an option either. And even as he released him he could not return to heaven. He would be stuck on earth forever, aimlessly lounging around… Just flying around and watch the world going to end just like the prophecy had foretold.

Unless...

"Flying," Cas whispered very weak. His eyes were sealed shut. And for a moment The Winchesters thought he was out again.

Suddenly the big turbid eyes flew open and the angel jerked op from Dean's lap. Both brothers were so surprised that they shrank back a bit. Causing Dean to fall backwards from the bed, after he and Cas made an awkward head-butt. When Dean came back up again the angel looked deep into the eyes. His mouth curled up in strange kind of smile. Not even aware of how close their noses were both looked at each other.

"There IS another way," Cas said gladly. Dean felt his breathe tickle his face and backed away a little.

"Really?" both brothers said at the same time.

Castiel nodded. But with that movement the world tilt again.

Suddenly he felt four hands grabbing his arms which probably meant that he was about to collapse back on the damp mattress.

"What, Cas. Say it. What can we do to help? "Sam asked excitedly while Dean now apparently just couldn't speak anymore. Despite Sam's desperate gaze, Cas turned his face the older Winchester. Well, it was more like dropping his head like a lifeless sack of potatoes. Because of his head clumsy flopped in a foreign flick to Dean. While his body mimicked this movement.

"Dean ... I want you to cut off my wings."


A/N: Well... my christmas was boring. So I made a nice and long chapter for all of you:) I am beginning to think that my English is going better than the beginning? What do you think? also, this story is getting longer and longer. and i aren't planning to rap it up in an end. This is going to be a long thingy! But, what do you think about how serious it's going to get? don't worry about the sadness. I'm sure to make it all like a sweet thing.

Please let me know what you think. You can't imagine how happy a writer can be with just one small review:)

X

Josie