A/N: Thank you Fiction lover14 and TARDIStime for your reviews! Life is really hectic right now, but I promise I haven't abandoned this fic. Summer is almost here, which means no finals to study for and more time to write! Just hang on a little longer, and thank you for staying with me.

In this episode: Castiel is betrayed..

Chapter Ten

"You look like a mess," Crowley remarked as Castiel fluttered down from his tree.

"Yeah, well," Castiel didn't look him in the eye. "The meetings are today," he changed the subject.

"Indeed they are," Crowley turned and strode inside his tree. "You have anything interesting to tell them?"

"I have a proposed treaty that the council came up with recently, it- hey!" Crowley snatched an envelope out of Castiel's hand and tore open the seal. "Dammit Crowley! The seal is supposed to stay intact!"

"Quit whining, I'll fix it after I read it," he said absently, eyes flying over the paper. "Hmm," he hummed. "Not too shabby."

"Fix it," Castiel glared.

The older angel rolled his eyes, tucking the paper back in and pressing his fingers over the top. The envelope paper and wax stuck together again, no evidence of tearing found.

Castiel rubbed his eyes, but said nothing more. He needed to focus on his job, and not… anything else. He imagined all his anger and hurt and sadness locked away in that box that used to hold his grace. It wasn't a part of him. He didn't need to worry about it.

As if alerted to Castiel's presence, Bela and Inias barged into Crowley's tree. "Welcome back," Bela's brow furrowed. "Did you get into a fight or something? Didn't peg you for one to throw punches."

"I did not punch anyone," Castiel said, irritated. "Now I have carcanets to find and meetings to go to. Crowley, did-"

Crowley held out Castiel's carcanets, and he gave a relieved sigh. They were set on the counter as Castiel made to remove the castle shirt he sill had on. The last button wouldn't come loose, and Castiel let out a frustrated growl. He didn't want to rip the shirt, but the button was stuck.

"Castiel, are you sure you're alright?" Inias fixed the button for him, careful not to brush his wings in the process. He looked so concerned.

"I'm fine," Castiel put on a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He slipped on the glinting gold, sapphire, and lapis and clutched the envelopes tightly. "Wish me luck."

Before anyone could wish him anything, Castiel marched out of the tree and into the forest towards Michael's camp. They had never set up a time to meet, so he might as well get it over with as soon as possible.

He headed towards Michael's camp, a pit of dread forming in his stomach. It was a different kind of dread than he was already experiencing, and he tried not to drag his feet.

All too soon, he was there and passing Raphael, whose stony stare sent a shiver up Castiel's spine.

"Early, I see," a voice floated from somewhere at the edge of the clearing. It was Michael, not on his throne. Castiel hadn't actually seen him up close before.

"I didn't want to keep you waiting," Castiel plastered a respectful smile on his face and bowed, Michael barely flicking his eyes to the ground in response. "I have the documents you requested."

"Wonderful." He motioned to another side of the clearing where the stream from Crowely's clearing must branch off. There was no table, but instead many chairs and couches. They looked almost human-made at first, but when Castiel got closer, they looked like moss.

Michael sat in a rather large chair, just a tiny bit taller than every chair around him. Castiel sat carefully on a couch, but found it to be soft, almost velvety. Michael must have noticed his expression. "Angels have control over nature," he said flippantly. "We don't require synthetic materials to live comfortably."

Despite the insinuation, Castiel made himself comfortable and pulled one of the envelopes from his pocket. "The Grand Council of Winchester worked very hard to ensure a fair balance between our kingdoms," Castiel said, handing over the envelope.

Michael took out the stack of papers and did something Castiel had never seen before. He held a hand over it in a fist and splayed his fingers out wide. The motion cleared all the creases out and made the papers rigid, like pieces of slate. That was pretty cool.

Michael went through the contract, chuckling at the paper every so often. That was a bad sign, and Castiel forced himself not to fidget. After several minutes of silence, Michael looked up. His eyes, though paler, were a nice shade of green, and the pit in Castiel's stomach grew heavier.

"This is very balanced," Michael said. "Let me show you mine. Zachariah!" he called.

The smarmy angel flew down and bowed, giving Castiel a very holier-than-thou expression. "I have the documents, Commander."

"Please show our guest."

Castiel took the slate-like papers and read them over. The jargon was much more advanced than Castiel, but he understood some of the things. It sounded like Michael wanted more of the Winchester resources than the Grand Council's contract allowed, as well as complete control over the military and royal budget. It was completely imbalanced. What was a nice way to say that Naomi would flip her shit if she saw this?

"As I am not a council member, I can make no decisions, but I'm sure the Grand Council would love to meet and revise it," he settled on.

Michael clucked his tongue. "Shame. It would be so much easier to get this out of the way before…" He met Castiel's eyes, "maybe a few days from now."

Castiel's eyes widened. Lucifer said Michael knew about the curse. Did he know the date? Was the kingdom going to burn in just a few days? Holy shit.

Castiel kept his face impassive. "Maybe it would be wise to meet in a few days. I will speak with the Grand Council."

"Good," Michael smiled a sort of feral smile. "I'd love to see the castle myself." Castiel swallowed thickly. Michael in the castle made a very dangerous picture, but he wasn't allowed to deny him. That was for Dean to do.

"Well thank you for looking our document over, and working on your own." Castiel stood.

"Wait," Michael commanded, and Castiel sat reluctantly. What more was there to discuss?

The golden-winged angel leaned forward, curious now. "Have you learned about your lineage since we last spoke?"

Castiel had completely forgot about that. "Uh, no. I've been a little busy and haven't had time."

Michael sat back, thoughtful. "Let me know soon. I'm eager to know how important you are."

What? "What does that mean?" Castiel asked politely. Did he mean his rank in the angels? He was sort of in a different category…

Michael rolled his eyes. "I need to know your generation. Many think it's a myth that we come from actual angels of the lord, but I believe otherwise. According to my research, most of today's angels are between twelve and fifteen generations from the original angel." He puffed up his chest. "I myself am only eight."

"That's very… impressive," Castiel settled on. "I will, uh, let you know when I find out."

"You will," Michael replied. That sounded ominous as fuck, and Castiel rose quickly. With a hurried bow, he walked quickly out of Michael's camp and back into the woods, stuffing his proposed treaty in his other pocket.

Don't think about it, he told himself. Go to Lucifer, get this over with.

He went straight to the other camp, calves burning as he walked up the incline. As he got closer, he saw that a woman stood guard this time. She looked sweet and charming, with piercing eyes and long, red hair.

"Hello, dear," she said as he approached.

Castiel made sure to bow, as with any normal angel. "Hello, I'm here to see Lucifer."

"Ah yes, Castiel," she smirked. She was tiny, with burgundy wings just a shade lighter than Crowley's, but there was a sickly-sweet edge to her that said she was not to be trifled with. "I am Rowena."

"Uh, nice to meet you." Castiel shuffled his feet. He wasn't really accustomed to making conversation with normal angels without the help of Crowley.

"Don't look so frightened, my boy. I don't bite," she said, turning. "Much."

So reassuring. Castiel followed her into the clearing at the base of the hill and spotted Lucifer immediately. This time he wasn't wrestling another angel, but watching two others fight. When he looked up, his smile sent shivers through Castiel.

"Alright, alright, break it up," he called to the fighters, and they broke apart, sweating and bleeding, but smiling. How strange.

"Hello, Commander," Castiel bowed, and Lucifer nodded down at him. "I'm afraid I'm here to talk business again."

"As I expected," he murmured with an exaggerated sigh. With a flick of his wrist, the angels around him dispersed, and he rose from his rocky throne.

"I have a proposed treaty here for you," Castiel followed Lucifer towards one of the little mountain caves, which made him nervous.

Lucifer paid him no attention, traipsing into one and dropping into a chair around a jutting rock table. Rays of light fell through perfectly carved holes in the ceiling, illuminating the room enough to read.

"Commander-"

"You look like shit." Lucifer rested his chin on a hand. "What's eating you, little angel?"

Castiel's mouth flattened into a line. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you," he said through gritted teeth.

"Sleeping poorly?" Lucifer guessed. "Tackling those trials?"

Castiel's mouth dropped open. "They won't work," the commander yawned. "That part really is a myth."

It wasn't, Castiel knew it wasn't. They had Thomas' journal and the vision and all the signs pointed towards real. Yes, they were doing it right. Lucifer was just fucking with him again.

"I… I'm not here to talk about the curse," Castiel tried to keep the stutter out of his voice. "I want to show you a proposed treaty that the Grand Council of Winchester drew up." Business.

"Ooh," Lucifer held out a hand, and Castiel handed over the second envelope. He ripped open the thin paper and took out the treaty.

Castiel sat, staring, for a long time. Lucifer squinted down at the document, then snapped his fingers, a quill appearing out of nowhere.

"Let's see here," he muttered, putting quill to paper. Castiel's pulse quickened as he watched the other angel cross things out, write in the margins, circle things… write all over every page until he was sure that it looked nothing like the original document.

Lucifer held the pages out in front of him, inspecting his work. "This is beautiful," he grinned, and Castiel couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

"I don't have the power to put forth these rules, but I suggest that you and the Grand Council meet, and-"

"And Michael too?"

Castiel paused. "Yes. We wish to make the entire Garrison aware of the proposed alliance."

Michael's face turned hard, none of the playful pout present anymore. "Maybe I'll pay the castle a visit," he murmured. "I'd like to meet this king of yours. Talk mano-y-mano."

"I will try to arrange that," Castiel said, forcing a smile.

"In a few days time, perhaps," Lucifer rubbed his chin. "You know what's coming soon."

What? Only three? Castiel's breath became shallow. He needed to leave. "I'll see what I can do," he stood quickly and bowed in the small chamber. "It was nice speaking with you again."

Without another word, Castiel turned to go.

o o o

Castiel landed on the ground with a thump and pushed open a door on the side of the castle. It felt heavier than usual. Everything felt heavier.

His feet were bare, and his footsteps didn't echo. He padded across the carpet-covered stone, trailing through an entryway towards the stairs. He planned on collapsing into a bed and sleeping until the second trial. But what bed? Dean's bed?

Castiel sighed. He needed to go talk to Dean, clear the air. He needed to apologize for getting so angry, even though he was still angry at the things Dean had said. He looked sorry after Castiel blew the torches out… Maybe he would apologize too.

Raven wings dragged behind Castiel, brushing the floor as he entered a large foyer. A familiar laugh woke him up a bit. It was Dean, he'd recognize it anywhere. Curious, he crept around the corner.

From his vantage point behind a large pillar, he could just see Dean and Benny by the little drawing room, conversing quietly. Dean was leaning against the doorframe casually, looking more relaxed than Castiel had seen him in days. Benny stood close, hands tucked into his pockets. They were grinning, and it left a sour taste in Castiel's mouth.

Of course, it was fucking Benny again. Rage welled up in Castiel again, but he tried as hard as he could to focus on that clearing-the-air thing he wanted so badly. There was no real way to fix the Benny situation- if the guy didn't back off, Castiel couldn't really do much but hope that Dean would put him in his place. He wasn't going to hurt the guy, however much he wanted to. It would hurt Dean too much.

Castiel would only linger a minute more, then he should leave. He had that nap to take. He glanced back to Dean and his beautiful smile… then it was obscured. With a sure movement, Benny cupped Dean's jaw in his hand and kissed him, pressing him back against the doorframe.

It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over the angel. Every muscle in his body tensed up, and a wave of nausea roiled over him. For a second, time was frozen. Benny's lips were on Dean's lips, his hand feeling Dean's soft stubble. He was kissing Dean. And Dean wasn't pushing him away.

Something tightened in Castiel's chest and he stumbled backwards, sprinting down the hallway and crashing through the door. He spread his wings and kicked off the ground, flying hard and fast, his earlier pains forgotten.

He flew away from the forest, away from the kingdom, pushing himself farther than he'd ever gone before. He flew west until the emerald forest melted into sparse trees, then to scrubby brush and yellow grass. He flew until the tears obscured his vision.

When he touched down, he collapsed, wrapping his wings tightly around himself. His whole body ached like he'd had the wind knocked out of him, like someone punched him in the gut and broke his legs and twisted his wings and bashed his skull into the ground until his vision whited out and he couldn't breathe. Was this what heartbreak felt like? Why was it called heartbreak when it felt like every other piece of him was broken too?

He closed his eyes. So that was it. His worst fears had come true.

Dean didn't love him anymore, that much was obvious. Castiel kind of understood that, though. All the stress of the angels and the trials put a strain on their relationship to begin with, and Castiel's jealousy and paranoia must have done it. Benny was a soothing balm to comfort him and remind him of better days. Now that Benny was here, Dean didn't need Castiel anymore. Benny was right.

But Castiel was right too, in the end. The kiss proved him right. Benny wanted Dean and he was powerless to stop it, powerless to make Dean understand. Maybe on some level, Dean did understand. Maybe he had only been trying to pacify Castiel so that he and Benny could stay close. Their relationship had ended the moment Dean set eyes on Benny.

A sense of acceptance fell over him. Benny was better for Dean. Benny was kind and uncomplicated and human, everything that Dean deserved. Castiel was just a burden, and Dean didn't need that.

Castiel cried. He cried until it felt like there was no water left in his body, then he cried some more. He cried until the sun dipped below the horizon and the cold wind picked up. He cried, alone in the deserted grassland, and eventually he fell asleep.

A/N: Sorry to leave you on such a sad note, but Supernatural does that to us anyway.