Castiel sat silently on the roof, watching the cars travel by him below. His brow was furrowed in frustration, as he was still angrily trying to find who has assaulted Dean, Sam and the others in the TARDIS.

For some reason, Cas had not been able to locate the demons. But the energy he had felt in the ship seemed to be extremely strong, and… familiar.

The demons were hiding themselves from him, obviously, as Castiel assumed they would. Possibly even completely angel-proofing their locations, but Castiel doubted this, as he was still able to feel the demons, if weakly. The dark, electric, throbbing low vibrations of their true forms, bound across the city with every movement the demons made. Cas had been sitting on the roof for hours in a pointless, quiet concentration, the time now being the very early morning, with the sun just a sliver on the horizon.

Perhaps I should go back and get Dean and Sam. They would be able to help, Cas speculated, still watching the brightly lit vehicles circle aimlessly beneath him. He sighed, and shook his head slightly. No. They would just slow me down. Castiel was planning only for a short reconnaissance mission as well. He had no intention to attack the demons, or even alert them of his presence. Of course, Dean is still worried. Castiel thought, smiling. Dean was always worried, and it was something that Castiel still had to get used to. Cas had never really had anyone worry about only him before. Not worrying for him as a soldier of Heaven, or the captain of the garrison, or the leader of a revolution, but just him as himself, Castiel.

Something that sounded like a loud bang in his head startled Castiel out of his trance, and he jumped up. The warning came quickly, and was sharp. It felt like his whole body had pins and needles. He was on edge, and Cas could feel his grace was agitated, flitting around in his vessel.

Somewhere in London, there was another angel.

Cas immediately went for his angel blade, expertly spinning the sharp metal sword in his hand, waiting for one of Raphael's followers to jump out at him, baring his or her own blade.

But nothing came, and Castiel was only left with the noises of the city. He warily sheathed his sword. Cas knew that he was taking a risk, taking time out of the war to help the Winchesters with this mission, but at the same time, Castiel didn't want to deal with any other demons besides Crowley and his supporters at the moment. Especially not one working towards the same cause as Raphael, the start of the apocalypse. Again.

Castiel tilted his head, closing his eyes just a bit to concentrate, trying to pinpoint on the location of his brother or sister.

Slowly, the building flickered into his mind: a decrepit, graffiti colored squat building, a little ways south.

Castiel stepped off the roof, thrusting himself into invisible flight, and landed in front of the old factory in the same step.

Castiel looked around the area, still dark, but ever so slowly growing lighter. The road was litter and dust ridden, with rusty shipping trucks messily lining the street, embellished with fading logos. There was not a soul around, and the only noise was the flitting of birds waking up for the day, and the faint noise of cars in the distance.

Castiel appeared in the building, landing in the middle of the large, open and dark room silently. He could still feel the subdued presence of the angel, but much more clearly now. It now mingled with the darker tones of the demon's presences.

Strange, that an angel is with these demons. Castiel thought, striding across the factory, heading towards a thin set of metal stairs that led to the second floor. He must have been ambushed, or be fighting them, or- Castiel stopped, his face falling as he felt the grace again, stronger. Fallen. He could feel it now, the unpredictable and tainted tones in the usually ethereal, and steady grace. He was dealing with a fallen angel.

Castiel hurried up the steps, hoping that his choice not to fly would attract less attention than his steps on the stairs.

Cas looked around the second floor, which was even more dim than the first, dark cloths draped over the large windows of the factory. Unlit candles were lined up in the middle of the floor, forming circle and swirling shapes, with bloody symbols traced around them. Cas' eyes followed the shapes, widening when he saw the copper bowl filled with charred herbs, blood. Dog bones and eagle feathers littered the floor, burnt at their edges.

"No…" Cas left his mouth open as he turned around, ready to fly out and straight back to the TARDIS. He had to tell the Doctor and the rest immediately that they had summoned someone-

"Not so fast," The demon stepped out from behind the steel pillar, grinning maliciously through her red lipstick, "Angel." The word rolled off hatefully from her tongue. She advanced, knocking Cas back with a huge shove. Cas struggled to get up, grunting, but couldn't fly away. His panicked eyes circled the room, stopping in fear at the angel proofing sigil that had newly appeared on the pillar by the demon.

"What, can't fly away?" Another demon cackled, coming from behind Cas. Castiel spun around, taking out his angel blade in defense.

"Let me go." Castiel growled as intimidating at he could, but he could already feel his power draining away.

"And why would we do that?" The female demon said, stepping towards Castiel. Castiel backed up, tripping on the candles around him. The demon kept approaching him, smiling. Cas swung his sword towards her, trying to catch her shoulder with the blade, but she easily dodged it, grabbing Castiel's wrist and twisting him down onto the floor, crushing into his shoulder blade with her knee. He gasped, gritting his teeth as he felt his vessel's shoulder pop out of place. "We didn't get out all the way here for nothing." The demon threw Cas' arm to the ground, and stepped delicately away from his prone body.

"You created the angel's resonance? How did you hide from me?" Cas grasped his shoulder, struggling to get upright, and trying to turns toward the demon.

"They didn't create it, I did. And it's fairly easy to hide demons when you have an angel on your side." A third voice emerged from the darkness. Castiel felt dread wash over him as he recognized the angel's grace: It was sharp, and impatient, electricity crackling throughout it, but still just a sickly shadow of it's past self.

"Furfur." Castiel said, finally realizing where he had recognized the name Furtur from. The large, muscular man appeared out of the shadows, his arms crossed, looking down at the crumpled angel below him with pity.

"Furfur?" Malthus said, a confused look on his face.

"The name that 'Father' gave to me. Furtur was a stupid mispronunciation on the part of the humans. I encountered them when I would bring lightning to Earth. The name had a certain ring to it, though." Furtur's black eyes danced in the dim light.

"It's been a long time, old friend." Castiel said cautiously, trying to bide his time as he figured out how to get out this.

"Old friend? I hardly find that an appropriate term." The demon scoffed.

"Before you left Heaven-"

Furtur took angry steps towards the angel on the ground, grabbing Castiel by the neck, bringing Cas up to Furtur's own eye height.

"Left? Before they threw me out! And left me for dead! On this primitive, dirty, ugly rock! They took away my immortality- nearly all of my grace- And you did nothing! You were our captain, our leader. You were meant to protect us. Did you think it was fair, what they did to me?" Furtur's eyes shifted back to the dark brown of his vessel, not breaking eye contact with Castiel. Furtur squeezed his hand tighter around Castiel's throat.

"Furtur, we do need him." Vine reminded her second-in command, not really paying attention as she poured a circle of holy oil on the other side of the room. "Try not to damage him too much."

Furtur dropped Castiel, letting him fall painfully onto his dislocated shoulder.

"You disobeyed orders from Heaven." Castiel managed to choke out.

"Because you've been so good recently… Stopping the apocalypse? Changing destiny? Throwing Michael in the cage? Becoming attached to humans? You've been a very bad boy recently. You might as well be on my level." Furtur tsk-ed, laughing.

"What I did… I did to help people." Castiel stood up again, stumbled, but managed to lash out towards Furtur, trying to catch him off guard. Furtur easily avoided the messy attack, and threw Castiel against the wall, breaking the bricks beneath him. A dark curtain fell off the window, allowing early morning light to stream into the room.

"And see where it got you to? Now all your friends are going to die!" Furtur growled, advancing towards Cas again. Furtur kicked him roughly in the gut, and again in the face, and again, and again, his steel-toed boot being planted widely across Castiel's body. Furtur's attacks grew in intensity until Cas could feel the different bones and skin snapping and breaking as each kick was placed.

"Furtur…" Malthus called, who was looking on the scene in amusement. As Furtur continued, clearly not listening. Malthus stopped smiling, glancing at Vine on the other side of the room. "Furtur, we don't want to kill him."

"None-" Furtur grunted as he brought Castiel up, tossing him towards Malthus. "of this-" Furtur kicked Castiel again. "Can kill him!" Furtur reached into the bloodied and broken angel's coat, bringing out the angel blade. Furtur spit towards Cas, then looked back up to Malthus, grinning. "Just a little payback. But this-" Furtur regarded the blade in his hands, fully aware of it's power. "Can!" Malthus nervously looked back to Vine again, who was marching towards them.

"Furtur, you can't kill him-"

Furtur rolled his eyes, and tossed the blade to Malthus, who juggled with it frantically before being able to grasp it firmly.

"I know. Vine would kill me first. If she could." Something reminiscent of a smirk played on Furtur's features as he stared cockily at Vine. "That's for you, Malthus, the big weapons expert."

Vine looked at Furtur with a less than amused face. "I could kill you, and I would."

"Um- Vine-" Malthus cut in.

Furtur turned to Vine, snarling, "I'm sure you would try to, demon."

"Don't act as though you're different than me. You're no longer an angel, not even a fallen angel. You were decommissioned, and are near powerless now. I was given the higher position, and I was deemed better by Lucifer himself-"

"Who, if you didn't notice, is currently imprisoned. Do you really think his choices matter currently?"

"Vine!" Malthus grabbed his senior's collar, dragging her back out of her argument. Malthus pointed furiously towards the floor.

The trio looked down at the ground, towards where the angel should have been, but all that was left was a bloody puddle.

"What the Hell!" Vine screeched, searching immediately for the light coat in the dark room, catching a glimpse of the dirty, bloody thing fluttering down the stairs.

"How did he-" Malthus started, but he was grabbed by Furtur, who was following Vine, sprinting towards Cas.

"I'm not completely powerless yet." Castiel mumbled. He made his way down the stairs as fast as he could with several broken ribs and severe internal bleeding. I just have to… get out of the area… of the sigil… His mind was flickering in and out of consciousness, as even though it was true that these wounds wouldn't kill Castiel, it was awfully hard to function in a human vessel that was suffering massive blood loss that he had no ability to heal in the slightest.

Castiel tested the borders of the sigil again, concentrating on trying to send a message to Dean, or Sam, or to anyone who would listen. Demons are summoning… captured. The message was scattered, but he hoped to God that at least it would get across.

But the thought just bounced around in his head again, and he knew that it would it even have made it to a person across the street, let alone across London.

Castiel sighed, and was almost resigned to just letting himself be captured. His vessel was suffering too greatly to fly, and with each step, his legs got harder and harder to move. But he continued, if only for the sake of the collateral damage from being captured- He didn't know what the demons and Furfur wanted him for, but it couldn't have been for anything good.

Castiel had nearly reached the door when he felt a pain like he had never felt before, and screamed.

It was a white hot pain, clean and bright, pure. It shattered through his vessel, and his consciousness, all the way down to his grace, which writhed in pain at the attack.

"And where do you think you're going?" Malthus whispered in his ear, his smarmy grin clear on his voice.

Castiel fell as the angel blade was slid cleanly out of thigh, his grace glowing faintly out of the wide, bloody wound.

"Malthus!" Vine barked at him, bringing the snivelling demon to attention. "What do you think you're doing? We can't kill the angel!"

"He didn't kill Castiel, he just maimed him. Possibly permanently!" Furtur said gleefully.

"I made sure to stab him somewhere that wouldn't kill him immediately." Malthus said, a little bashfully, a little proud.

Vine looked on Castiel suspiciously. "Are you sure he won't die?"

Malthus cast his eyes down on the blade, admiring it. "This is one of the most accurate and unique blades I've ever held." Malthus pursed his lips at it, bringing it closer to his face. "Now if I can only figure out how to copy them-"

"Those can kill demons too, you know." Furtur shot Malthus a glance, who has the pointed end of the blade towards his face.

Malthus blanched and drew the thing away from him, holding it delicately by the hilt in his two fingers.

Vine rolled her eyes and Malthus snickered. Vine tiredly picked up Castiel, throwing him roughly over her shoulder, eliciting a groan from the angel.

"Let's put him in the holy fire, just to make sure he doesn't try this senseless shit again."

Castiel was thrown into the circle, his face landing only inches from the holy oil. It was unlit, he still scrambled away from it, biting his lip as pressure was put on stab wound.

"What, scared of becoming angel barbeque?" Malthus sneered. He snapped his fingers, and his palm ignited. The fire played around his hand, hovering just above the surface of his skin. He touched the oil with one finger, and the fire exploded out around the circle, causing Cas to bring himself into even smaller ball in the center of it.

Vine smiled, observing her work, and then the rest of the room."Fix that, Furtur." Vine gestured to the fallen curtain, still illuminating the room. "You know the Master doesn't like it too light. He needs his better vessel before he's able to handle Earth in all it's glory. He hasn't been topside… well… since the beginning."

"Your master." Furtur muttered, flicking a wrist to levitate the thick cloth back in front of the window.

"Furtur, even if I couldn't kill you…" Vine stepped towards the giant man, staring up at him, her eyes crinkling in grey intensity. "He certainly will." Vine warned, staring at him coldly. "I'm going to get him now, to show that we completed our work. Malthus, come." Vine turned on her heel, Malthus trailing behind her, his hands in his pockets, as they went towards the foreman's room of the second floor.

Furtur let out a shaky breath, and leaned against the pillar behind him.

Castiel watched him, Furtur's body full of aggression and hate, and not only directed towards Castiel himself this time.

"You know, I did think it was strange that one of the fallen is serving under a witch's idol." Castiel croaked out. Furtur turned. "Yes, you still losing much of your power, became mortal, but… you think yourself equal in caliber to the Devil, don't you?"

Furtur shook his head. "I'm not an idiot, Castiel. I know I'm not Lucifer. I want him to return, clearly, or I wouldn't be doing this." Furtur looked towards the dark door of the back room. "Mostly, I just don't like serving under bitches." Furtur looked down at Castiel, whose blood was still spreading across his pants. "What about you, working with humans? Did you learn nothing from watching them with us for all those years? They're beasts, Castiel." Furtur approached the circle, pity in his eyes. "God tried to put all of his creations before us, when we were the best ones. Yet, he told us to love them more, to respect them more, to protect them before even ourselves. To sacrifice our whole beings to this stupid, petty universe."

"We are not better than them, Furfur." Castiel closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain.

"You're working with them, yes? The humans? Don't you realize that all the humans will end up doing is disappointing you?" Furtur shouted, the fire being reflected in his blackening eyes.

Castiel smiled feebly. "Not the ones I'm with."

Castiel felt the presence before he even saw the host, something darker than Vine, Furtur or Malthus ever could have been. Something incredibly old. It radiated with corruption, and left Castiel feeling darker and darker inside. His anger, hate and shame towards everything, the war, Dean, Sam, himself, lashed out, nearly making him sob with grief and pain.

Furtur brought his chin up, standing straighter as the small figure made his way through the shifting gloom, leaning on Vine and Malthus as he did.

As he drew closer to the fire, Castiel was able to see the man more closely, and to his surprise, he discovered that he wasn't a man at all. He was a boy. Twelve, or thirteen, it was just a skinny little boy. Castiel cocked his head, squinting in confusion. The boy had large, baby blue eyes, that were rimmed with dark circles. His blonde hair was blood splattered, and he was pale, very, very pale. He had patches of skin peeling off all over his body, revealing festering and bubbling red skin.

All feeling in Castiel's body was diverted to the sinking feeling in his gut as he realized what the boy was.

As the boy was gingerly let go by Malthus and Vine, he stared at Castiel, his eyes slowly tracing over the various wounds, bruises, and bones sticking awkwardly up out of skin.

A chair was placed down for the boy, who was struggling even more to stand.

"What-" Castiel tried to speak, but his voice was taken as the boy closed his fist, also closing Castiel's mouth.

"Should we send the message?" Vine asked.

The boy nodded tiredly, and as the three began to break off to do their next task, he held up one finger, pausing the whole room.

"Torment the angel. We need to show the heroes that they must save him, or he shall die." The boy's voice was high, and so beautiful that it nearly hurt Castiel. The boy crossed his legs, staring at Castiel as Malthus swept on hand over the fire, bringing all the glowing flame back to him. Malthus slammed a chair behind Cas, dragging the angel down. Castiel nearly screamed as his leg was bumpily shoved onto the seat of the chair.

Malthus delicately took out the angel blade with a newly gloved hand, pressing it down into Castiel's skin.

"Whatever the Master wants." Malthus mumbled, ignoring Castiel's silent screams.

A/N: Sorry for the slightly delayed update! But here is chapter #10 in this little story of ours... quite Cas!centric. Anywho, as always, thank you so much for all the reviews, follows, favorites, simply reading this, really any and all support you give! We love your response and they make us cry tears of joy.

Less than 3 weeks until season 9 premieres- **BREATHES HEAVILY**