An angel sits alone in an abandoned warehouse in Germany.

It's been nearly three weeks since Dean hugged him goodbye. The wings still burden him, giving him little twinges of pain every time he accidentally brushes them against something or tries to extend one. They're close to healed, but Cas knows they'll never be the same. With no medical help and only a fraction of the speed and finesse angel healing usually gives, they've healed wrong, crooked, and he knows he won't be able to fly with them.

This. This is what an angel gets for loving a human.

He misses flying. Sometimes, even though it's unnecessary, he craves food, almost as if he's hungry, and he wanders out to find something to take from a dumpster. While he's outside—usually at night—he'll look up at the stars and remember all the times he flew and Dean watched, grinning, or the times they both were in the air and they shared a kiss while surrounded in stars.

Now he spends most of his time sitting in this warehouse while it pours outside, dripping water through the rusted roof and onto the floor around him. He usually cradles his CD player in his lap, closing his eyes and listening to Eminem because everything else reminds him of Dean.

He never told Dean this was the 'place he had in mind.' It might have made him feel worse. Where else, though? He had to avoid humans at all cost, so it was this, which he's familiar with, or some other abandoned building or basement or alley.

Cas puts his head in his hands, running a hand through his hair, and tries to block the image of Dean Winchester from his mind.

vvvv

"Dean?"

"Hey, Sammy."

"Wow. It's good to hear from you. I thought for a second it must've been someone else calling from your phone."

Dean puts his feet up on the couch and puts a hand behind his head, frowning. "Well, don't be dramatic. It hasn't been that long since I called you."

"Well, it's been, what, two months? Closer to three, I think."

"Yeah, well. Stuff happens. How are you, Sammy?"

"I'm…I'm good. I'm doing really well, actually." Pause. "How are you, Dean?"

"Never better."

"You sound tired."

Dean frowns. "I'm fine." In actuality, he hasn't slept well for weeks. "What's goin' on with you?"

"Um…really? You wanna talk about me?"

"Sure."

"Okay. I'm taking a couple of summer classes. Kind of for lack of anything better to do. Everything's going well, I, uh…I have a girlfriend."

Dean's eyebrows shoot up. "Really? You?" He chuckles. "It's about time you lost your virginity."

He can feel his brother's embarrassment through the phone. "Dean—we haven't done that yet."

"Well get to it."

"I hate you."

"No but really, who is she?"

It takes a moment for Sam to answer. Probably composing himself again. "Remember my friend Jessica I told you about?"

"No."

Sam sighs. "Well, she's a student here too. She's…nice. Really nice. A few weeks ago we made it official that we're together."

"Good for you, Sammy."

There's a pause. "Are you okay, Dean?"

"You already asked me how I am."

"Yeah, but…I mean, you wouldn't returns calls from me or Dad for a few months. You know I talked to him, right?"

"Yeah, I talked to him last week."

"And now you're like…asking me what I've been doing? I know you're not against me being at Stanford, but you've never cared much about what I do here. It's like you're trying to avoid talking about yourself."

Sighing, Dean runs a hand over the scruff on his face. He hasn't shaved in a few days. "Look, some stuff has happened since we talked last. Yeah. But it's no big deal. I've just been a little distracted."

"Do you…wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Of course not."

Even with Dean's refusal to talk about Cas, it's nice to catch up with Sam again. He figures he should've done it while ago. It almost makes Dean feel normal again, even though he still feels empty.

He still misses Cas every day. It's strange; he's never had a hard time with breakups. Whether he initiated them or his partner did, he was always able to recuperate within two weeks, maybe slightly more. The average two-month relationship like he'd had with Cas usually only needed a week-long recovery.

But there really hadn't been another relationship like that. And it hadn't been the typical breakup, either. It doesn't just haunt Dean that Cas is gone; it haunts him that he'd gotten hurt because of Dean, and that he'd still been hurt when he had to leave.

Some day he'll get over that angel. But not today.

vvvv

"You shouldn't be here, Castiel."

Cas starts and turns to find Naomi watching him calmly. He stares at her for just a second. Then he lunges forward and slams her up against a building, his forearm across her throat. "You," he growls. "What are you doing here?"

She shoves him off in an instant and twists his arm around behind him with a crack.

Cas cringes as she releases him, his arm healing within two seconds.

"You know better than that," she says flatly. "Anyway, I could ask you the same. I would've thought you would know not to come here."

Cas glances around tightly. Camden. "I wasn't going to stay. I just wanted to check—"

"It's time, Castiel."

He eyes her warily. "For what?"

She smiles with a kind of warmth that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "It's time to return to heaven."

It takes him a moment to understand her. "It's…what? Now? After all this time?"

"You needed the time. You had gone too far off track. But now you have a chance to come back before you make another mistake. Come back to your brothers and sisters, where you belong."

He shakes his head slowly, staring at her with only half-disguised incredulity. "You think I can go back to heaven after what you've done to me? After you destroyed the only real life I've ever had? After you left me with these broken wings and refused to let them heal?"

"This is your last chance to come back, Castiel. Think about it. If you come back, we will take you. You can be a true angel again." Her expression hardens. "If you stay, you will constantly be running, cowering in basements, trying to keep your secret hidden. You'll be an outcast—a freak."

Cas looks at her with no expression, but his mind is turning over his options. Is it worth it to stay? He's always wanted to stay in the human world, but is this any way to do it?

On the other hand, could he ever surround himself in angels again? The people who so loathe the idea that a human and an angel could be together?

"No matter what I choose," Cas says slowly, calmly, "I will be an outcast. Every angel in heaven knows it's an offense to have intercourse with a human. And I suspect it's no secret there what I did." He steps closer to her and says lowly, "I would rather live amongst the judgement of humans than the judgement of angels."

Naomi stiffens. "He corrupted you, didn't he? Dean Winchester. You know he's dead, don't you?"

For a moment, Cas forgets to breathe. She's lying.

"He is," Naomi says. "I sent Esper to kill him about a month back. I believe he'd just gotten off the phone with his brother."

When Cas just stares at her, frozen, with no visible reaction, she sighs and rolls her eyes slightly.

"It was always the plan, Castiel. You weren't the only one who committed a crime. He knew you were an angel. He knew you should have been in heaven, but humans are innately selfish."

"You're lying," Cas says through clenched teeth.

"Look," she says, and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Before he can move away, they're on the roof of a building across from Dean's apartment.

"His car," she points out.

For a moment, Cas doesn't understand what she's trying to show him, but then he realizes. The Impala is dirty, as if it's been collecting dust on the driveway. With as much as Dean loves that car, Cas can't fathom why he would let it get dirty.

"Show me his grave, then," Cas says quietly.

"He didn't have one," Naomi says, "he was cremated. Family tradition, I believe."

Shaking his head in denial, Cas pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials Dean's number.

Naomi purses her lips and pulls a ringing phone out of her own pocket. Its ringtone is a heavy guitar tune. "Face it, Castiel. Your precious human is gone. That's what happens to them."

Cas's legs start to feel shaky and numb. The angels wouldn't have known where Dean lived if Cas hadn't been there. But none of this would have happened if it weren't for him.

Cas sinks to his knees, staring over the edge of the building at the dirty Impala. "Is he really dead?" he asks quietly, brokenly.

"What do you think?" Naomi asks.

He can't tell. He doesn't know. Or he does know and he can't accept it.

Naomi sighs. "I didn't want to ever tell you. I knew it would make you hate me. But it had to be done."

Cas lowers himself to sitting. He can't say anything. There's nothing to say.

"There's nothing for you here," Naomi says softly.

"You think telling me Dean is dead is going to make me want to return to heaven?" Cas growls. "You think I'll ever want to go back now that I know what you've done?"

"I tried, Castiel," Naomi says vehemently. "I tried to get you back when all of heaven had given up on you. But you've made your choice clear. You choose humans. You'll always choose humans. Well, see what they think of you when they see what you are. To them, you'll be another Lucifer. A fallen angel with mangled black wings? They'll never accept you."

She disappears.

Cas gasps, wincing in pain as he feels drained suddenly, as if something's pulling him inside out. The sensation only lasts a few seconds, but it's enough to send him to his hands and knees.

When it's over, he knows what happened. His connection to heaven has been severed. There's no going back.

He's fallen.