By the time Cas digested what was occurring around them both, his shoes landed in the soften ss of lush grass. There was the sound of lapping waves and upon turning to face the spectacular view, Cas marveled over the familiarity of every single thing. Even the fishermen casting their nets as the orange sun sunk lower behind the hills. And the presence of small boats slicing through the surface of Loch Laggan that looked like glass. Even the rolling grasslands couldn't free the thought of slipping off his shoes and running around the expansive fields.
"One of your favorite places that you have visited the most," Chuck stood beside Cas, hands behind his back and admiring the view with a smile. "I've got to tell you, Cas, out of all my children, you've always been my favorite. And the reason why I adore you so much is because of your loyalty, and your inability to allow any kind of distractions to stray you away from your purpose in Heaven."
"My purpose?" Cas squinted at the other man. "I have no purpose anymore."
"Oh, but you do," Chuck turned a smile as bright as the setting sun. "Don't you remember the good old days when the main goal on your agenda was to protect a certain human at all costs?"
"I…" Cas blinked, feeling his throat tighten from the mention of Dean. The pain of their argument still left fresh claw marks on his heart. "I did the best I could although the apocalypse still unfolded."
"Sad details," Chuck sighed, folded his arms and surveyed the view with a serious look now, "also sad that you felt the need to defy me over and over again by completely blurring the lines of your job."
Cas, turned to the one being who should have been radiating with the warmest glow of pride and love and he felt nothing but maliciousness.
"Angels were not created to fall in love with my creation, Castiel."
"Maybe you should understand how everything works, but I really had no choice in the matter," Cas said matter-of-factly. "From the moment I cast my eyes on Dean, I began to experience a sense of…newfound energy. I began to have feelings. And over the years although I have tried to defy the way I feel, I have failed miserably."
Chuck sighed. He tasted his lips and reached into his pants pocket. Wearing a sharp khaki pants suit with a matching jacket did not add any kind of glorification to his supreme form. In fact, his aura was dull, his complexion pasty.
"Castiel, the more you speak about the abomination titled Dean Winchester, I am beginning to feel nauseated." Fishing a small pack of Tic Tac from his pocket, he shook out two and offered Castiel. The angel declined.
"Listen, I'm a fair guy. I've always been. Heck, I created the man you've been fornicating with but –" he rolled his eyes when Castiel sent him a glare, "…I can't let you continue to stain your image like this, son. At some point you will have to decide if you would prefer to stay an angel or leave Heaven because you cannot have the best of both worlds. And right now, from where I'm standing," Chuck laughed, "you're kind of forcing my hand, man."
"Do you think that I would even sympathize with anything you have to say?" Cas' chest was bubbling from anger, "after the fact that you tried to kill the Winchesters and placed hundreds of humans' lives in danger?"
"What can I say?" Chuck shrugged, still smiling, "I was angry and when I'm angry, I throw tantrums. Like tsunamis and earthquakes and floods and tornadoes."
Castiel's clenched fists reflected exactly what was occurring in his mind. "I will choose Dean Winchester over and over again –"
"Even if I suck all your existence out through a straw and throw you into the Empty?" Chuck turned a Colgate smile at Castiel. Then after two seconds, he laughed, and clapped the angel on his back.
"Kidding! It's a joke, come on, lighten up. Killing Dean would hurt me far less than killing you. I find that the simpler things in life, like getting rid of the Winchesters, are beautiful moments. Anyway, the state of Heaven right now," Chuck changed the topic when Castiel's blue eyes glowed a piercing blue, "have you been up there lately?" Chuck whistled. "Man, it's bad. Talk about running low on fuel. No kind of generator can fix that."
The last time he had been up there, Naomi had informed Castiel of the absolute necessity in finding an arch angel that could power up Heaven. Without an arch angel, or Jack, and from the thought of Jack, Castiel's chest ached, there could be no continuation of a very powerful concept that had existed before God created the first two humans. Now, there were close to five angels remaining, the rest were lost and wandering the earth, definitely absent of grace. And their only hope was Michael who had become lost in the wind.
"I want to take you up there so that you can actually see for yourself what has been happening," Chuck suddenly suggested and from the moment the words slipped out of his mouth, Castiel was consumed in a sense of dread.
"No," he said quickly, "I can't comply this time."
"Because of your domestic dispute with Dean?" Chuck asked scornfully, "Cas, come on. Whatever you've created or think that you've created with this man will not flourish. You will always take two steps forwards and then two steps backwards. And do you know why? Hmm?" he eagerly sought out the answer on Castiel's face. "You're an angel and he's a human. And every time he looks at you, he will be reminded of me plotting out his life on a graph, proving to him that there is no such thing as free will."
"Then if free will doesn't exist," Castiel frowned, "how did Dean and I fall in love with each other even though you detest it?"
"That's not love!" Chuck said distastefully. "That's lust. When you were losing your grace, you had physical needs. Dean can't even accept your physical form. He can't even welcome the idea of having sex…with you –"
"Just stop it," Castiel said angrily, his chest heaving as he felt somewhat…guilty of the other man's words. As he remembered Dean holding back and every single second that slipped by. Castiel began to give in to realize that although he had been trying to swallow every single possibility of denial, Dean really had been hesitant all along. Whilst he…had been open and willing to give himself, all of himself to the one man he believed loved him.
"The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place, huh?" Chuck smiled whilst studying the wheels in Castiel's brain rolling around and being fueled by doubt. "Dean Winchester will never spend an eternity with you. Very soon, he will run into the arms of a woman, any busty woman and he will break your heart. I know you have a heart, Castiel. Angels aren't supposed to be as human as you are. But you've attached yourself so much to this flawed man, that he's going to bring you down as he brings down himself. And just when he finds happiness in what he considers 'normal'," Chuck paused and felt refreshed when a look of pain filled blue eyes, "you'll be cast aside."
For a long time, the two of them stood side by side and stared at the sky dusted by a deep shade of orange. The setting sun showed a slice of fire between two hills. Fishermen rowed their boats to the shore in the west. Castiel though, was thinking of one thing only even though his favorite place on earth was becoming even more beautiful by the second. And that was Dean.
If he could honestly expel his feelings for Dean Winchester at that point, then he would have to confess that he was conflicted. He was conflicted and he was slowly growing frustrated and angry. Angry because Dean never really trusted him, did he? If he had trusted him, then why did he hold back from revealing the truth about himself like his reliance on pain tablets. Like when he snuck out a few Tylenol and popped them, believing that Cas couldn't see what he was doing.
Or when Dean disappeared into the mall, whilst Cas and Sam were shopping. Then after they returned to the car, as Cas busied himself with packing their stuff away in the trunk of the Impala, he accidentally upturned one of the bags Dean had been carrying. And inside the bag, Cas discovered a bottle of Valium, a bottle of whisky, and aspirin.
Cas remembered how his head spun dangerously when he stared at the combination. When he instantly was washed over with paranoia, wondering if Dean had reverted to depression again. If he was really planning to jump into a pit of darkness and this time permanently. Was he planning to kill himself? Or to slowly keep poisoning himself by ingesting barbiturates and alcohol, a deadly concoction that could push him into a coma.
How could Dean reassure Cas that what they had was meaningful and worth it when his concealed actions proved otherwise?
Why didn't he reveal the demons in his past without Castiel having to pry guiltily just to push aside the pain and seek out the cracks? Dean actually claimed that he feared what the future would hold for them. But was he really trying to warn Castiel of his honest feelings? Of deserting him eventually to live a normal life?
Everything felt like a façade suddenly when Chuck rested a reassuring hand on Castiel's back, that the angel tried so hard to fight the doubts and still…he couldn't swallow the pain of loving a man who constantly took him for granted. Loving a man who turned away from him just when they were at their weakest points. When Dean had been injured, every single time, Cas sheltered him and over and over again, the hunter built a wall between them.
What hurt most of all was the fact that Dean never thanked him for saving his life after the hunter had been stabbed. His wounds could have killed him and Dean, after realizing that Castiel still had his grace, the same grace that healed him, still felt the need to lash out. To throw hurtful words at him about his 'kind' and his connections to a monster.
Sure Chuck wasn't exactly the father of the year but neither was John Winchester. Yet, Dean oftentimes commemorated his father's life on earth through perusing his journals, relying on John's words, keeping his memory alive.
Dean had hurt Castiel in a way that felt like trauma. Like being involved in a tragic accident, and hours after, then the pain of losing a limb and the realization of it all seeped into your mind. And because he loved Dean, he never really understood how they were so reliant on each other. Mostly Dean. Every single time, Castiel had to comfort him. Hold him. Soothe him. And the more Cas thought about it, he realized that Dean never asked if he was okay. Dean never went the extra mile by tending to him as much as Cas took care of him. And maybe he should have felt ashamed of himself for using a measuring stick to assess their relationship but Castiel's anger fueled every single thing.
"Come with me to Heaven," Chuck said and his voice sounded distant. "Come with me and let me show you the state of the place you once called home."
And even before he could comply, Castiel was transported into the depths of a place that at first was so shadowed, he couldn't determine where they were. Until the white lights flickered briefly and he found himself in corridor A of souls reveling in their idea of happiness behind closed doors.
But something was awfully wrong. Before when he entered Heaven, Castiel used to feel a sense of power, of the other angels' graces reaching out to him and drawing each other together like magnetic forces. But now, he felt cold and icy inside, almost as if the air had a terrible draft. And there was the absence of the homely feeling, of togetherness and a sense of comfort.
"Everyone has fled," Naomi informed Cas, minutes after Chuck had disappeared suddenly. There was so much fear in her eyes, even her hands were trembling. "The two angels that remained recently had to vacate Heaven to provide help in the middle east and I've never heard from them since. It seems," Naomi said wringing her hands, "that they have willingly cut off their ties with the rest of us."
"But I've been hearing murmurs on angel radio," Castiel frowned.
"Murmurs but they are untraceable because Heaven is failing. We are being defeated in every single part of the world as people are losing their faith and God isn't entirely providing any kind of hope anymore. Do you realize what this means for the future of the world that was created for us to protect, Castiel?" she stared at him earnestly. "It means that from the lack of our guidance, earth will fall. Demons will take up power and pervert every single human soul. Your friends…the Winchesters," Naomi considered him with a pitiful look, "will become corrupt just like everyone else and –"
"Little brother," came a very familiar voice behind him and immediately, Castiel's chest was cut across with an icy feeling. "Naomi, I'd like to say that it's good to see you but frankly I don't like you," Michael sneered at the angel who had a record of torturing angels. "You, on the other hand," he seethed at Cas, "I like you more now that you've been rebelling against every single sliver of grace. Although I hate Dean Winchester, I must commend you on your bond with him."
Castiel, on the other hand, was further conflicted after he realized that Adam's face stared back at him. Dean's eyes. Just the memory of that particular shade of emerald wounded Castiel because he had to confess that he missed the hunter terribly already. He couldn't believe that they were hopeless at that point. Not really. But after some time when he reckoned that he wouldn't be returning to earth for a while, he remembered Dean's last words to him.
"Cas, I just want you to know that if you leave, and you don't come back, you'll break my…heart. And I'll believe that I deserve it because I've never believed that I deserve you. So, if you don't come back this time, I'll know that we're…over and…And I'll keep pushing until I can't anymore."
He never believed that he deserved Cas.
Maybe that was the part that wounded the angel the most. Knowing that a human was so blinded by his painful past and his tortured soul that he couldn't believe that he could be loved. Or he could be comforted. Or something special could happen to him and maybe, this time, it would be the best thing to have ever happened to him. Now because of Dean's disbelief, there was the presence of cracks that spread like vines through their relationship and through those cracks seeped doubt and reluctance and now…
Now they were separated from each other. They were part of two different worlds. And the more Cas thought about the last time he stared into those green eyes that held a million torches burning behind them, he could feel nothing but uncertainty. And the feeling of Dean literally grasping at the fringes around his belief in love.
Dean had been falling apart and although Cas wanted to collect every single broken piece and try to fit the hunter back together, he wasn't allowed to hold every single piece. Sometimes he felt like he was constantly being cheated. Like they never could sit down and openly talk about themselves without a wall slowly climbing up. And maybe their conversations really felt honest and true and with depth but deep down inside, why did Cas feel so much pain whenever their words died down into sleep?
Michael continuously lamented on how he could save Heaven but Chuck had to relinquish some of the power to him. Over and over again their voices droned on inside Castiel's head and yet, he still kept breaking inside.
He still wanted to run back to Dean because if he didn't, then they would be over. Then he would break Dean again and this time, Castiel wasn't so sure that the hunter would ever forgive him again. That the other man would ever heal or push past the pain. After all, although Dean had taken him for granted, his mind was fractured, his demons were never defeated. And if their relationship ended, then Castiel was afraid that the man he loved with all his heart would fall so low, he wouldn't be able to recover.
And through it all, Chuck felt the pain between the Winchester he hated the most and the son he couldn't care more about. And he fed off of that pain because he wanted Dean to suffer. He wanted him to give up, to let go and to fade away. So naturally, because his motives were simply just in his mind, Chuck sped time up.
One day passed and then four. Within half an hour in Castiel's mind, two weeks had passed on earth. Then three. And through it all, Chuck grinned like a fool because he understood how love could become lethal, especially unrequited love.
Dean, as much as he tried to digest how unfair he had been towards Cas, how he shouldn't have overreacted, he began to struggle terribly.
When one week dragged by with the absence of those ocean eyes staring into his, the hunter knew immediately that Cas had walked out on him for good this time. That Cas had given up because Dean had fucked up again and again. And now, he had no other chance to make things right. This time, he had done the ultimate wrong.
Drinking was what he resorted to because he had to show Sam a composed face. He had to provide a solid belief in his lies; telling his brother that Cas had gone out on his own to find some new leads on Chuck. And because he kept lying and lying, although his brother knew most of the truth, Dean suffered from painful guilt.
"Look, I know the two of you had a fight," Sam said to his brother one afternoon whilst sifting through books on aliens. "I can't keep pretending like I didn't hear the shouting contest inside the kitchen because I did. And because you're trying so hard to keep the truth from me, I'm seriously worrying about you now."
"Don't worry about me," Dean smiled as his eyes watered. He appeared so downright lost, his brother's heart ached. "Hey, I'm fine. Now that you know that he left because I screwed up, you should be happy because at least your best friend ran away from the freaking monster I am –"
"Dean," Sam shook his head, "you're not a monster. You were just upset. As was I. Heck, I was pissed off at him for not telling us that he still had his grace. We had a conversation too. But what I don't like is you taking all the blame."
"Cheers to your lousy brother who can't be in a relationship that lasts," Dean lifted his glass of whisky.
Sam sighed. "Do you honestly think that Cas would break up with you?"
The older Winchester actually laughed. "It's been almost twenty days, five hours, thirty-two minutes and…" Dean checked his watch, "…would you look at that. Thirty seconds and counting and he hasn't even called me. Did he call you? I tried calling him but he's turned off his phone."
"Likewise," Sam frowned although marveling over the effort his brother had focused on to keep track of the time. "But hey, don't give up as yet, okay?"
"Now you're beginning to piss me off," Dean scowled. "I told him that if he leaves and doesn't come back then I'll know that we're over. And it's almost three weeks, Sam."
"Dean…"
"I screwed up, alright?" The older Winchester raised his voice, slammed the glass down on the table and rose up weakly. "I pushed aside every damn thing that he's ever done for me, all the times he's helped me heal myself, how he saved my life. And I abused him with every single hurtful thing I could find inside of me. Because why? Because I'm so freaking weak, I can't even love myself so how in the world could I love another person? How could I make a relationship work when I don't even have friends or I've never been able to make any other relationship last in my life?"
"Dean, all I see is the two of you working through things. You have plenty of baggage. But you're not the one who gets to decide that you've done everything wrong, okay? Cas walked out on you. I don't like that he hasn't called or he hasn't said anything. But he's selfishly decided to take some time out for himself whilst he knows that you're wounded. So don't stand there and tell me that you're to be blamed for all of it."
For a long time, Dean sat there in silence and gently swirled the glass around in small circles. His emerald eyes took on a darker shade. His breathing was shallow and his heartrate quickened when he tried to reflect on Cas' smile. Or the way his gravelly voice dipped lower at times when he was trying to reassure Dean of his worth. Or when Cas couldn't contain his laughter and he snorted in the most adorable way.
After a while, Sam wallowed in silence and then he simply returned to his books, all the while hoping that his brother was at least realizing that he couldn't beat himself up completely over what had occurred.
Dean, on the other hand, finished the bottle of whisky and within two hours, he had slipped out into the night after Sam dozed off.
When the younger Winchester finally stirred merely six hours after, he blindly stared at the vacant chair and frowned deeply. But barely, Sam had enough time to process the fact that his brother had resorted to the confinements of his room or perhaps wandered outside. Because about five minutes after rubbing the sleep from his eyes, there was the distinct sound of the flutter of wings and Castiel entered the scene, stage left, wearing a deepened frown and wet blue eyes.