A/N: And now begins the end of the story! I think. This is where I feel it all kicks off, anyway. In other news, guess who got an assload of reviews since the last chapter! I was so surprised: thank you all so much, specifically cherrytops82, mashq, sidz2891, Oh-darling-if-only-you-knew, destieler, Inspyre, Rainbow Fruit Loop and smalld1171! I ended up deciding not to do the 50 reviews oneshot idea, seeing as I'm snowed under with schoolwork and it's usually only for 100 reviews anyway. Maybe next fic, who knows?

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

08/10/14: I'M SO SORRY I FORGOT TO PUT A WARNING UP THANKS SO MUCH TO CONVINSKEY FOR REMINDING ME! ** Trigger Warning** extremely dub-con/rape from words "You need me, huh?" to end of chapter. I'm so sorry I forgot when I uploaded this.

Chapter 21

"You are probably wondering why I had Naomi fetch you, Castiel." The words were spoken without purpose, meant only to frighten him. Raphael knew how to play this game. Castiel, however, refused to be intimidated. He kept his silence, meeting Raphael's eyes defiantly despite the fear crippling his chest.

"How is Mr Winchester?" Raphael asked conversationally. When he received no answer, he merely smiled emptily. "Not in premium condition, I expect, after your failure with Mr Tran."

Castiel jolted, and Raphael's smile grew.

"Oh yes, I know about that, Castiel," he said precisely. "I know about everything."

What does he want from me? Castiel thought desperately, mind scrabbling for a way of escape but finding none.

"We want nothing from you, Castiel," Raphael said, ignoring Castiel's gasp of surprise. "It is merely a matter of what we want to give you."

What do you want to give to me? Castiel thought before he could stop himself and slam the brakes on his mind.

Raphael folded his hands on his lap. "Information," he said simply. "That is what you want, is it not?"

It was, and they both knew it.

"I shall begin, then," Raphael said, "with Dean Winchester. Unfortunate man, such promise. But nevertheless perfect for our experiment."

The words had their desired effect, and Castiel's spine stiffened, eyes flashing.

Raphael ignored his anger and continued. "The most amusing aspect of this entire scenario is, however, that the pair of you seem to think this experiment revolves around him."

Castiel's brow furrowed in confusion as he processed this sentence, and a cold dread permeated his bones.

"It doesn't, Castiel."

His ears were ringing, his vision overcome by a blinding light.

"It revolves around you."

Suddenly the light and noise was gone, and it was only Castiel and Raphael in the bare, simple room. Castiel raised his eyes wearily, meeting Raphael's triumphant ones.

"But it's nearly over, Castiel," Raphael insisted. "What you did was not easily forgiveable, but Michael believes you have now repented enough. You can go home, Castiel, it won't be long now."

"I don't have a home," Castiel's voice was hoarse and stripped bare.

"You do," Raphael assured him. "You just do not remember. You were cast out, Castiel, and bound to this weak human form, sentenced to punishment on Earth." His words were not making sense and Castiel's began to slowly shake his head as if he could deny their very existence. "This establishment was created for you, to provide the perfect setting for your punishment. Dean Winchester was to be the final touch: we would find a man that would complement you exactly, we would incubate a profound bond between the two of you and then we would break him, and you with him."

The dread in Castiel's bones turned to fear, an all-consuming terror that set his frozen form on fire.

"But things did not quite go as planned," Raphael admitted. "The bond became stronger than even we had expected, and you support him as much as he supports you. Dean Winchester is beyond our reach now. We have returned his memories to him, as I am sure you are aware, and with it his insanity that would have made your relationship impossible. He is of no use now. But Michael has grown bored of this little game we have been playing and wishes to end it. It will not be long now, Castiel, until you may have your memories and your home returned to you."

"What about Dean?" Castiel demanded weakly, already knowing the answer deep in the pit of his stomach.

Raphael leaned back in his chair. "As I said, he is of no use now. The hospital will be destroyed, and all those in it. They have served their purpose."

Horror consumed Castiel. "You can't!" he sputtered. He thought of Charlie's smile, Garth's cheer, Chuck's kindness. Dean.

"They will mean nothing to you once you are returned to your true form, Castiel," Raphael said, and his voice was almost tender in its surety. "You will have your real family then."

"My real family?"

"You are one of us, Castiel. You will remember, when the time comes."

"I'm a Balt?" Castiel's voice was heavy with pain and disbelief.

"None of us are Balts," Raphael told him simply. "Our family does not have a name. But yes, you are our sibling, Castiel, and we are happy to see you nearing the end of your punishment."

Castiel shook his head determinedly, standing up. "I don't believe it," he cried. "It's not true!"

"It is true, Castiel. You feel it."

Castiel did feel it. Raphael's words carried an inexplicable weight to them, and Castiel knew, through some long-forgotten instinct, that they were the truth.

"Why am I being punished?" he asked shakily, still standing. "What did I do?"

"You will remember in due course, Castiel," Raphael told him calmly, smiling benignly.

The harmless smile reminded Castiel of Raphael's poisonous nature, the atrocities he had committed in this establishment. "If you and Naomi are my family..." he began slowly.

"Your siblings," Raphael corrected.

"My...siblings," Castiel said, the words sticking in his throat, "then why are you so cruel? Why do you deliberately torment me?"

"You need to be punished, Castiel," Raphael insisted. "You will agree once you remember what you did. We do not enjoy the task, but –"

"You do," Castiel said, conviction in his voice. "All of you Balts enjoy the cruel aspect of your 'task'. And I will never be one of you! Never!"

"If you are not one of us," Raphael said, smile petrifying until it appeared to be carved from granite, "then where, tell me, do you belong?"

His smirk made Castiel sick. He remained standing, fiery-eyed, for a few seconds before he rushed out of the room, not pausing to slam the door behind him.

Dean nearly had a heart attack as the door to his room flew open with a loud crash, Castiel flying through the doorway and flinging it shut after him. Then the man appeared suddenly unable to move, frozen in front of the trembling wood and breathing heavily, wild-eyed and wild-haired.

Dean stood up, worry pushing his frustration at their failure with Kevin to the back of his mind. "Cas, what's wrong? What happened?"

Castiel stared at him blankly for a second. His face crumpled and he gasped for air as if it were paining him, falling forward and clutching at Dean like a lifeline. Dean held him close, shuffling backwards until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. He sat down heavily, taking Castiel's weight with him, and manoeuvred his friend to sit next to him on the bed.

"What's wrong?" he repeated insistently, patting Castiel's cheek firmly to gain his attention. "Are you sick?"

Castiel shook his head, then nodded. "I don't know," he groaned weakly.

"Should we move to the bathroom?" Dean asked, concerned.

"No, I...just need to calm down." Castiel took a few, deep breaths and appeared to relax slightly, though the leg pressed to Dean's transferred the shivers wracking his body to Dean's own. Believing Castiel cold, Dean flung an arm over his shoulders and tugged him closer. Castiel buried his face into Dean's neck, and Dean tried not to shiver as his warm breath puffed over his clavicle, condensation dampening his skin. This was Castiel, he reminded himself, not Lisa.

After a few long minutes, Castiel had regained himself enough to speak. "Naomi was waiting for me in my room," he whispered.

Dean's arm went rigid around Castiel's body, almost crushing him. "What? What did she do? Did she hurt you?" he demanded frantically.

He felt Castiel shake his head slowly, his hair tickling Dean's jaw. "She took me to Raphael."

Now it was Dean who had to remember to breathe and regain his composure. He forced himself to remember that Castiel was here, right next to him, apparently physically unharmed. He pushed the swelling wave of panic down, shoving it deep into the pit of his stomach, where it roiled and churned restlessly.

"What did he want?" Dean's voice betrayed his anxiety and fear, but it was pitched normally, and that was what counted.

Castiel swallowed and inhaled shakily. In, out, in, out...

Finally, "I can't," he whispered.

"What? Why not?"

"I just can't, I...what they told me..."

Dean frowned and let his arm fall from Castiel's shoulders. "So you don't trust me enough."

Castiel's head shot up, catching Dean in the jaw and sending him reeling, cradling his chin.

"Of course not!" Castiel cried, clutching at Dean's shirt and refusing to let go, even when Dean tried to pry his hands off. "I trust you more than anything, you're the only thing I have!"

"So why don't you tell me what happened?" Dean knew it wasn't fair be so confrontational, so angry, but he'd told Castiel everything, absolutely everything about himself. He had no secrets from him, and the more he divulged the more impossible it became to ignore the fact that he knew next to nothing about his friend. And it hurt that he wouldn't even tell him this, after all they'd lived through.

Castiel hung his head, still clenching Dean's shirt in his fists. "I just can't bring myself to tell you. You'll...you'll push me away, and –"

Dean ripped himself away from Castiel's grasp, losing a few buttons in the process. "What's that supposed to make me think?!" he yelled. "What we have means nothing to you, I suppose! You think I'd just up and abandon you for one tiny thing? God, Cas, do you even know me? Do you want to?"

Castiel flinched at that. "I do know you! You will leave me – you get so angry!"

"Well I'm angry now, aren't I?" Dean growled, making to stand up. Castiel pulled him back down frantically, and their skulls collided painfully for a second time. "Jesus Christ!" Dean gritted out through the pain. "Let me the hell go!"

"No!" Castiel shouted as Dean tried to leave. "Please! I need you to stay with me!"

"You need me, huh?" Dean sneered. "That's a good one. You apparently don't need me enough to fucking tell me –" His angry words were suffocated as Castiel slammed their lips together, locking his arms around Dean's neck and restraining him as he desperately pressed his mouth to Dean's over and over, eyes squeezed shut as if all the swirling fury surrounding them would burn away if he just wished hard enough.

Dean was frozen for all of a millisecond before he began to fight Castiel's grip, jerking his head away until the kisses fell on his jaw and neck. Castiel was far stronger than he appeared, he discovered, but Dean was nevertheless stronger. He finally managed to shove Castiel backwards enough to deal him a powerful punch to the face, finally breaking the man's hold and nearly sending him tumbling from the bed.

"What in fuck's name do you think you're doing?!" Dean shouted, incensed.

Castiel was cradling his nose, which was now streaming blood. Tears trickled down his cheeks. "Please," he whispered thickly, reaching for Dean again. "Please, I need..."

Dean slapped his hand away. Castiel grabbed his arm, leaving a bloody handprint on the cuff. He pulled Dean towards him, catching his hand as Dean attempted to punch him again. He forcefully sealed their mouths together again – the blood gave the kiss a rough, salty tang – and Dean saw red. He ripped his hands out of Castiel's iron grip and slapped him hard on the cheek, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and mashing him face down on the bed. Castiel writhed against his hold, futiley trying to breathe through the pillow as Dean all but tore Castiel's clothing away from his body. This was what they wanted, Dean told himself. He'd wanted it with Lisa, but he would have to make do. Castiel's desires were clear.

Deep down, though, Dean knew neither of them had ever wanted it like this, with Dean's rage blinding him to all but the red behind his eyes and Castiel's bloody tears soaking the pillow case.

A/N: Ah. I forgot this was THAT chapter. Okay. Oh dear. Hm. Well at least it's sort-of Destiel, right? Okay I'm sorry this isn't Destiel at all this is the exact opposite of romance. On that subject, I'm not sure whether I should put up the rating with regard to this chapter...nothing graphic happens in this fic (sorry guys) but it's pretty dark. Opinion?