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div id="chapter-6" class="chapter" style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"
div class="userstuff module" style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; width: 771.90625px; float: none; word-wrap: break-word;" role="article"
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel made his way down the center of the Bunker's garage. Passing some "great classics'' as Dean had called the row of vintage cars that had been purchased then forgotten by the Men of Letters. As far as he was concerned, they were all relatively new in the bigger universal scheme of things. Castiel really never understood the reference point for what qualified as a classic when applied to automobiles. His interest in learning about them was driven solely because Dean seemed to derive a great deal of pride and joy when working on, or talking about the wheeled machines. Castiel tried to keep the image of Dean buried ass deep in the engine compartment at bay. A greasy and sweaty, Dean never realized the affect he had on Cas' olfactory system. It stirred something in Cas' mind in terms of things he would love to do with Dean. For Cas' sake, he could only really blame Dean for that problem. Dean had once provided Castiel with his laptop and Netflix to keep him entertained whilst Sam and Dean slept. Castiel could remember the one night he accidentally clicked on a video link stored in the computer's /When the video began to play on the small screen Castiel saw two men in a tender embrace. They were plying each other with soft kisses and nuzzling their noses. Intrigued with what he was watching, Cas checked the time stamp on the video and realized it was almost to the end of the recording. Deciding he wanted to see more he hit the "Start from Beginning" icon and watched intently as the video picked up from opening credits. The story was straightforward enough: two men uncertain with their feelings for each other. Then, after an over abundance of sexual innuendo and flirtation, the hazel-green eyed man who was the more confident of the two, decided he is going to ask the other if he wanted to go camping. Of course, the other man agreed even though he had never camped in his life. This seemed to please the other male a great deal. Castiel fast forward the video in his mind as the two men connected with each other as they made love. Castiel had recalled sitting frozen as the men were entwined, their bodies almost molded together. Then when green eyes had whispered into the ear of the other and called him: My Blue-eyed angel. Castiel couldn't help but notice…and hope. But, with every angry Dean outburst that came afterwards, Cas dismissed the whole thing as a coincidence and the video pretty much was forgotten. /His feeling's of protectiveness and fondness for the elder Winchester had always been evident, but now? Now he has felt those feelings changing and becoming more intense with desires that he struggled to keep buried. Watching that video and the way the men used their bodies to pleasure each other. Castiel knew he wanted that with Dean. So over the last year, it had been everything he could do to hide is reactions to Dean as he walked into the kitchen with just a towel around his hips, or the ratty bathrobe that parted just enough for Castiel's imagination to run wild. It had been so bad that on several occasions, Cas had gone to take a shower just so he could try what Dean would often do to relieve the heat in his lower belly. He masturbated. Something else he learned in those video's and from watching Dean. The latter being before he learned about Dean's personal space…of course he would never tell Dean that /Lately, as Castiel lived a more mortal life than that as an angel of celestial intent in a human body though reconstituted on multiple occasions. Castiel's near total depletion of grace has allowed him to experience more of the desires of a human. His visceral response to erotic and sexual stimuli, like Dean walking around after a shower in a towel wrapped around his hips, or that shabby robe. Opened just enough so that Cas could get a glimpse of the inner thigh. The image alone was enough for Castiel to feel a now familiar tightness begin to form in his pants. His cock getting hard and shifting itself along his leg at the thought of Dean naked except for his robe. Castiel's mind then slipped to just the night before. Dean sat cross legged on the bed, his robe open and loose. Castiel had felt adventurous enough to slide his hand up that thigh and to the treasures that lay underneath./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel mentally shook himself out of his reverie and he let out a frustrated sigh, adjusted himself and made the rest of his way to the Lincoln./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"As Cas rounded the long nose of the 1940 Bentley, he spotted the Lincoln, or the "pimpmobile" as Sam tended to call it. Because of Metatron, Cas understood the reference, and always felt the need to correct Sam that he never used his car to assist women on the streets and drive them around. Which would usually draw a smile from Sam. Cas had called the car a classic once. Dean had sniggered at him and with a great amount of condescension, Dean let Cas know "that POS, is not a classic". Cas hid his hurt and never really spoke of the vehicle much after that episode. He had taken a que from Dean though, and when frustrated mostly by Dean. He would often come down to the garage and either sit in the car and listen to Dean's Traxx, or he would go for a drive with the windows down so he could feel the wind as it blew like a tornado throughout the car. Oddly, when the wind blew through his hair and blasted his face, it always seemed to make Castiel feel better. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel walked up to the post that had the controls for the large garage door and hit the silver metallic disk. A clanking and rattling sound began as the garage door rumbled and creaked its way open. Turning away from the noise of the door, Castiel took the short walk to the Lincoln and grabbed hold of the door handle and gave a yank to pull the car door open. His still healing shoulder twinged slightly as the door opened giving way to the car's interior. Folding himself into the car's driver's seat Cas felt his coat tighten up around his waist as the flap became stuck underneath his rear-end. Something in the pocket had caught on the edge of the seat as he had slid into the car. Planting his feet on the floorboard, Cas raised his butt upwards and with his right hand, he tugged his coat flap free from whatever it had been caught on and as the flap came loose, a small black object flew out from underneath and skittered across to the passenger side of the front seat. Cas stared at the likely culprit of the coat getting hung up it was the tape of Led Zeppelin songs that Dean had compiled for Cas, it must have caught on the edge of the seat./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Suddenly, the hurt that Cas felt at Dean's words began to morph in to something different. Anger and frustration began to rise up and before he knew what he was doing, Castiel grabbed the keys, jabbed them into the car's ignition and turned until the engine rumbled to life. Putting the car into gear, Castiel began easing the Lincoln to the edge of the garage entrance and as the white starkness of the snow covered Kansas prairie opened up before him. Castiel paused, staring straight a last effort to keep spring at bay, Mother Nature decided to send an overnight storm through and with the temps dropping low enough, a fresh layer of snow blanketed the ground. The only blemish to the brilliant white scene before him, was an old barbed-wire fence that ran off into the distance. Jagged and weather beaten, the dark wood provided a stark picture perfect contrast to the brilliant white./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"The Bunker's garage entrance was tucked in behind a small knoll, and access came from a narrow dirt road that led to its entrance. Dean would sometimes do the: Nananana Nanana Batman! theme as they approached the garage opening. Dean once said he planned to plant giant hedges that he could drop open, just like the TV show: Batman. The first time Cas had looked at Dean with utter confusion, but after sitting with Dean in his man-cave and watching the cheesy 60s Batman classic. Castiel understood, and he recalled fondly Dean's reaction when he called the man-cave. Dean's Batcave. Dean had looked at him with such fondness and flashed Cas one of his most endearing smiles and laughed. Castiel had always loved the moments that he could hear Dean actually laugh. The man's early life rarely allowed it, and so if Cas could be a source of bringing him some humor. Castiel was happy to do so, whether on purpose or as is often the case, by accident./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel continued to stare forward at the scenery, not sure why he couldn't bring himself to remove his foot from the brake and shift it 3 inches to the right and drive through the opening. His hands had become clammy, his breath shortened. Memories of getting into Impala and waking up to strobing lights fogged his brain and thinking became difficult. Glancing to his right, Cas caught sight of the Impala. Sliding the car's gear shift back into the "Park" position, He could not pull his gaze from the mangled car. The car's left side was caved in and on the opposite side, the roof was bent back over on itself and showed the cut marks from the jaws of life that were used to remove him from the car. The doors to the Impala were laying on the cement floor alongside the front bench seat. There was a dark smudge of dried blood that ran across the back support. Castiel swallowed hard at the sight. Not because of the damage to himself but the damage he had caused the car and the heartache he had caused Dean. Maybe that is one of the reason Dean had a change of mind. Maybe Dean was tired of Castiel's ineptness at trying to be human. Dean had already spent some time taking the car apart in order to start rebuilding the beloved car. As Cas sat staring and the Kansas landscape, he felt the tears begin to well up again. They were hot and burning and soon they began to run as rivulets down his cheeks. At this moment there was nothing Castiel wanted than to be a full blown Angel again and just take himself away to anywhere./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Feeling tired and very much alone. His failures of the past few years fighting at the Winchester brother's side began to run through his mind as a tumultuous wave. The successes he knew he had had were buried under the avalanche, and Castiel felt as if the weight of his failures were going to bury him. And even worse, his sense of isolation compounded his sense of failure./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"He had nowhere to go. He would try a return to heaven but his brothers and sisters would probably try and scatter his celestial intent across the /Crushed by the feeling, Castiel felt so weary from it all.. God, he hated this weakness. He once was a great soldier and fought in some of the greatest battles as part of God's army. He watched civilizations rise and fall throughout the universe...but, it took this one infuriating man to bring him down, and now that he was living more as a human than an angel with very little grace left. Castiel knew the only way he would gain that back would be waiting a millennia for it to recover. For him that kind of waiting would be nothing, but for a human. There would be no comprehension or understanding because their lives are bound by the sense of decades passing. He wanted that feeling of being infinite and indestructible back. The last time he had felt it was back when he was charged with leading the assault on Alsitair's pit of torture and despair./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel could recall when the orders came down to his garrison. They were going into the pits of hell to rescue the "righteous man" from the clutches of Alastair. One of the worst demons in that pit. Angels had fallen as they fought their way through and twice as many lost their grace and their lives as they fought their way out. Castiel, he was too battle seasoned and clever for the demons. Plus, everyone underestimated his determination to be the first to reach this righteous man. Castiel remembers everything about that moment as if it just happened. He never told Dean this information. Angels do not /Castiel remembers the screeching demons. Their black as pitch mouths stretched open. The rancid smell belching forth as they tore at the angels. The screams of anger from Angels as they were mortally wounded. Castiel himself remembers the feel of his angel blade as he ripped demons apart. All in an attempt to get through to the man they said would be a savior, Dean Winchester. Of course later on they all found out there were other motives lurking behind why the Archangels really wanted Dean. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel had always felt guilt over the lies that were told to the brothers Winchester. Lies that almost helped to kill Sam and destroy Dean./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"What Castiel remembered most about that mission was the violent battle to reach Dean's soul, that had raged on for what seemed an eternity. And once Castiel and the other angels broke through to the center of Sheol or Perdition, Castiel had been the first to gaze upon Dean's tortured soul. Castiel remembered how it had angered him when he looked through his angel eyes and saw this tattered fragile being suspended from Alistair's worst pit. Dean's soul flickering light of pure white had nearly been overtaken by darkness. The result of Alistair's torture in trying to turn Dean into one of Hell's torturing demons. Seeing this unclean force putrefying a sacredness like a human's soul had allowed his own determination and anger at such violation to drive him forward and when he came close enough. The angel grabbed Dean by his shoulders with such force that his imprint was left on each bit of remaining flesh, and as Castiel hugged Dean close. He wrapped his angel wings tightly around them both, forming a cocoon that would protect them from the onslaught that was to follow on their return trip back to the mortal world. Castiel could almost hear the demons now. Their anger at having such a precious possession stolen had driven them into a frenzy, and the disgusting creatures began to hurl themselves at Castiel and his precious cargo. Luckily, once Dean was secure, the other angels changed their tactics and went from attacking to protecting, and with Castiel wrapped securely around Dean, they were carried upwards by a regiment of angels back to the mortal world./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"The memory of that moment washed over Castiel as it was the last time he served with his brothers and sisters in battle. His powers at full force and unrivaled. He knew this mortal man was different. At the time, Castiel wasn't sure how to describe it to anyone. He knew he couldn't say anything to the other angels. But. They knew. Many of them would even try to use it against him. He had fallen for the mortal, but he also knew he could never admit it to out loud himself or to the elder Winchester. Because Dean Winchester was…complicated. So, instead of admitting his truth to this maddening mortal. Castiel chose to follow him and never relinquish his first order: to save and protect Dean Winchester. Castiel had held the man's soul in his arms and he felt something thrum through his being. He hated this helplessness, his self loathing at his current situations because of his actions. He knew he had to do something but what? Suddenly at the edges of his thoughts, he could feel Dean. Dean was upset. Castiel usually could sense Dean's emotions when they were strong enough and right now he could feel the anger and frustration roiling in Dean's mind. But. There was something else: fear. Dean was scared. He was looking for /Castiel knew that it would only be a matter of time before Dean would find him in the garage. So he had to make a decision. He thought that he would go ahead and return to heaven and take his chances. He would rather be separated from what little was left of his grace and scattered than to live here on this planet with /Lost in his "what if" thoughts combined with his PTSD filled anxiety from the accident, Castiel missed the sound of Dean as he had come up alongside the car and just as he grabbed the gear shift to dropped the car back into drive. Castiel cursed Dean once more by growling out "Fuck you, Dean. I'm not going to be your ping pong ball anymore"/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;""Wow, Cas. Tell me how you really feel." Startled, Cas looked through the lowered passenger window and stared back at familiar green eyes that were currently crinkled in suppressed laughter, of Dean Winchester./p
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div id="chapter-6" class="chapter" style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"
div class="userstuff module" style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; width: 771.90625px; float: none; word-wrap: break-word;" role="article"
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel made his way down the center of the Bunker's garage. Passing some "great classics'' as Dean had called the row of vintage cars that had been purchased then forgotten by the Men of Letters. As far as he was concerned, they were all relatively new in the bigger universal scheme of things. Castiel really never understood the reference point for what qualified as a classic when applied to automobiles. His interest in learning about them was driven solely because Dean seemed to derive a great deal of pride and joy when working on, or talking about the wheeled machines. Castiel tried to keep the image of Dean buried ass deep in the engine compartment at bay. A greasy and sweaty, Dean never realized the affect he had on Cas' olfactory system. It stirred something in Cas' mind in terms of things he would love to do with Dean. For Cas' sake, he could only really blame Dean for that problem. Dean had once provided Castiel with his laptop and Netflix to keep him entertained whilst Sam and Dean slept. Castiel could remember the one night he accidentally clicked on a video link stored in the computer's /When the video began to play on the small screen Castiel saw two men in a tender embrace. They were plying each other with soft kisses and nuzzling their noses. Intrigued with what he was watching, Cas checked the time stamp on the video and realized it was almost to the end of the recording. Deciding he wanted to see more he hit the "Start from Beginning" icon and watched intently as the video picked up from opening credits. The story was straightforward enough: two men uncertain with their feelings for each other. Then, after an over abundance of sexual innuendo and flirtation, the hazel-green eyed man who was the more confident of the two, decided he is going to ask the other if he wanted to go camping. Of course, the other man agreed even though he had never camped in his life. This seemed to please the other male a great deal. Castiel fast forward the video in his mind as the two men connected with each other as they made love. Castiel had recalled sitting frozen as the men were entwined, their bodies almost molded together. Then when green eyes had whispered into the ear of the other and called him: My Blue-eyed angel. Castiel couldn't help but notice…and hope. But, with every angry Dean outburst that came afterwards, Cas dismissed the whole thing as a coincidence and the video pretty much was forgotten. /His feeling's of protectiveness and fondness for the elder Winchester had always been evident, but now? Now he has felt those feelings changing and becoming more intense with desires that he struggled to keep buried. Watching that video and the way the men used their bodies to pleasure each other. Castiel knew he wanted that with Dean. So over the last year, it had been everything he could do to hide is reactions to Dean as he walked into the kitchen with just a towel around his hips, or the ratty bathrobe that parted just enough for Castiel's imagination to run wild. It had been so bad that on several occasions, Cas had gone to take a shower just so he could try what Dean would often do to relieve the heat in his lower belly. He masturbated. Something else he learned in those video's and from watching Dean. The latter being before he learned about Dean's personal space…of course he would never tell Dean that /Lately, as Castiel lived a more mortal life than that as an angel of celestial intent in a human body though reconstituted on multiple occasions. Castiel's near total depletion of grace has allowed him to experience more of the desires of a human. His visceral response to erotic and sexual stimuli, like Dean walking around after a shower in a towel wrapped around his hips, or that shabby robe. Opened just enough so that Cas could get a glimpse of the inner thigh. The image alone was enough for Castiel to feel a now familiar tightness begin to form in his pants. His cock getting hard and shifting itself along his leg at the thought of Dean naked except for his robe. Castiel's mind then slipped to just the night before. Dean sat cross legged on the bed, his robe open and loose. Castiel had felt adventurous enough to slide his hand up that thigh and to the treasures that lay underneath./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel mentally shook himself out of his reverie and he let out a frustrated sigh, adjusted himself and made the rest of his way to the Lincoln./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"As Cas rounded the long nose of the 1940 Bentley, he spotted the Lincoln, or the "pimpmobile" as Sam tended to call it. Because of Metatron, Cas understood the reference, and always felt the need to correct Sam that he never used his car to assist women on the streets and drive them around. Which would usually draw a smile from Sam. Cas had called the car a classic once. Dean had sniggered at him and with a great amount of condescension, Dean let Cas know "that POS, is not a classic". Cas hid his hurt and never really spoke of the vehicle much after that episode. He had taken a que from Dean though, and when frustrated mostly by Dean. He would often come down to the garage and either sit in the car and listen to Dean's Traxx, or he would go for a drive with the windows down so he could feel the wind as it blew like a tornado throughout the car. Oddly, when the wind blew through his hair and blasted his face, it always seemed to make Castiel feel better. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel walked up to the post that had the controls for the large garage door and hit the silver metallic disk. A clanking and rattling sound began as the garage door rumbled and creaked its way open. Turning away from the noise of the door, Castiel took the short walk to the Lincoln and grabbed hold of the door handle and gave a yank to pull the car door open. His still healing shoulder twinged slightly as the door opened giving way to the car's interior. Folding himself into the car's driver's seat Cas felt his coat tighten up around his waist as the flap became stuck underneath his rear-end. Something in the pocket had caught on the edge of the seat as he had slid into the car. Planting his feet on the floorboard, Cas raised his butt upwards and with his right hand, he tugged his coat flap free from whatever it had been caught on and as the flap came loose, a small black object flew out from underneath and skittered across to the passenger side of the front seat. Cas stared at the likely culprit of the coat getting hung up it was the tape of Led Zeppelin songs that Dean had compiled for Cas, it must have caught on the edge of the seat./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Suddenly, the hurt that Cas felt at Dean's words began to morph in to something different. Anger and frustration began to rise up and before he knew what he was doing, Castiel grabbed the keys, jabbed them into the car's ignition and turned until the engine rumbled to life. Putting the car into gear, Castiel began easing the Lincoln to the edge of the garage entrance and as the white starkness of the snow covered Kansas prairie opened up before him. Castiel paused, staring straight a last effort to keep spring at bay, Mother Nature decided to send an overnight storm through and with the temps dropping low enough, a fresh layer of snow blanketed the ground. The only blemish to the brilliant white scene before him, was an old barbed-wire fence that ran off into the distance. Jagged and weather beaten, the dark wood provided a stark picture perfect contrast to the brilliant white./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"The Bunker's garage entrance was tucked in behind a small knoll, and access came from a narrow dirt road that led to its entrance. Dean would sometimes do the: Nananana Nanana Batman! theme as they approached the garage opening. Dean once said he planned to plant giant hedges that he could drop open, just like the TV show: Batman. The first time Cas had looked at Dean with utter confusion, but after sitting with Dean in his man-cave and watching the cheesy 60s Batman classic. Castiel understood, and he recalled fondly Dean's reaction when he called the man-cave. Dean's Batcave. Dean had looked at him with such fondness and flashed Cas one of his most endearing smiles and laughed. Castiel had always loved the moments that he could hear Dean actually laugh. The man's early life rarely allowed it, and so if Cas could be a source of bringing him some humor. Castiel was happy to do so, whether on purpose or as is often the case, by accident./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel continued to stare forward at the scenery, not sure why he couldn't bring himself to remove his foot from the brake and shift it 3 inches to the right and drive through the opening. His hands had become clammy, his breath shortened. Memories of getting into Impala and waking up to strobing lights fogged his brain and thinking became difficult. Glancing to his right, Cas caught sight of the Impala. Sliding the car's gear shift back into the "Park" position, He could not pull his gaze from the mangled car. The car's left side was caved in and on the opposite side, the roof was bent back over on itself and showed the cut marks from the jaws of life that were used to remove him from the car. The doors to the Impala were laying on the cement floor alongside the front bench seat. There was a dark smudge of dried blood that ran across the back support. Castiel swallowed hard at the sight. Not because of the damage to himself but the damage he had caused the car and the heartache he had caused Dean. Maybe that is one of the reason Dean had a change of mind. Maybe Dean was tired of Castiel's ineptness at trying to be human. Dean had already spent some time taking the car apart in order to start rebuilding the beloved car. As Cas sat staring and the Kansas landscape, he felt the tears begin to well up again. They were hot and burning and soon they began to run as rivulets down his cheeks. At this moment there was nothing Castiel wanted than to be a full blown Angel again and just take himself away to anywhere./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Feeling tired and very much alone. His failures of the past few years fighting at the Winchester brother's side began to run through his mind as a tumultuous wave. The successes he knew he had had were buried under the avalanche, and Castiel felt as if the weight of his failures were going to bury him. And even worse, his sense of isolation compounded his sense of failure./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"He had nowhere to go. He would try a return to heaven but his brothers and sisters would probably try and scatter his celestial intent across the /Crushed by the feeling, Castiel felt so weary from it all.. God, he hated this weakness. He once was a great soldier and fought in some of the greatest battles as part of God's army. He watched civilizations rise and fall throughout the universe...but, it took this one infuriating man to bring him down, and now that he was living more as a human than an angel with very little grace left. Castiel knew the only way he would gain that back would be waiting a millennia for it to recover. For him that kind of waiting would be nothing, but for a human. There would be no comprehension or understanding because their lives are bound by the sense of decades passing. He wanted that feeling of being infinite and indestructible back. The last time he had felt it was back when he was charged with leading the assault on Alsitair's pit of torture and despair./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel could recall when the orders came down to his garrison. They were going into the pits of hell to rescue the "righteous man" from the clutches of Alastair. One of the worst demons in that pit. Angels had fallen as they fought their way through and twice as many lost their grace and their lives as they fought their way out. Castiel, he was too battle seasoned and clever for the demons. Plus, everyone underestimated his determination to be the first to reach this righteous man. Castiel remembers everything about that moment as if it just happened. He never told Dean this information. Angels do not /Castiel remembers the screeching demons. Their black as pitch mouths stretched open. The rancid smell belching forth as they tore at the angels. The screams of anger from Angels as they were mortally wounded. Castiel himself remembers the feel of his angel blade as he ripped demons apart. All in an attempt to get through to the man they said would be a savior, Dean Winchester. Of course later on they all found out there were other motives lurking behind why the Archangels really wanted Dean. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"Castiel had always felt guilt over the lies that were told to the brothers Winchester. Lies that almost helped to kill Sam and destroy Dean./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"What Castiel remembered most about that mission was the violent battle to reach Dean's soul, that had raged on for what seemed an eternity. And once Castiel and the other angels broke through to the center of Sheol or Perdition, Castiel had been the first to gaze upon Dean's tortured soul. Castiel remembered how it had angered him when he looked through his angel eyes and saw this tattered fragile being suspended from Alistair's worst pit. Dean's soul flickering light of pure white had nearly been overtaken by darkness. The result of Alistair's torture in trying to turn Dean into one of Hell's torturing demons. Seeing this unclean force putrefying a sacredness like a human's soul had allowed his own determination and anger at such violation to drive him forward and when he came close enough. The angel grabbed Dean by his shoulders with such force that his imprint was left on each bit of remaining flesh, and as Castiel hugged Dean close. He wrapped his angel wings tightly around them both, forming a cocoon that would protect them from the onslaught that was to follow on their return trip back to the mortal world. Castiel could almost hear the demons now. Their anger at having such a precious possession stolen had driven them into a frenzy, and the disgusting creatures began to hurl themselves at Castiel and his precious cargo. Luckily, once Dean was secure, the other angels changed their tactics and went from attacking to protecting, and with Castiel wrapped securely around Dean, they were carried upwards by a regiment of angels back to the mortal world./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;"The memory of that moment washed over Castiel as it was the last time he served with his brothers and sisters in battle. His powers at full force and unrivaled. He knew this mortal man was different. At the time, Castiel wasn't sure how to describe it to anyone. He knew he couldn't say anything to the other angels. But. They knew. Many of them would even try to use it against him. He had fallen for the mortal, but he also knew he could never admit it to out loud himself or to the elder Winchester. Because Dean Winchester was…complicated. So, instead of admitting his truth to this maddening mortal. Castiel chose to follow him and never relinquish his first order: to save and protect Dean Winchester. Castiel had held the man's soul in his arms and he felt something thrum through his being. He hated this helplessness, his self loathing at his current situations because of his actions. He knew he had to do something but what? Suddenly at the edges of his thoughts, he could feel Dean. Dean was upset. Castiel usually could sense Dean's emotions when they were strong enough and right now he could feel the anger and frustration roiling in Dean's mind. But. There was something else: fear. Dean was scared. He was looking for /Castiel knew that it would only be a matter of time before Dean would find him in the garage. So he had to make a decision. He thought that he would go ahead and return to heaven and take his chances. He would rather be separated from what little was left of his grace and scattered than to live here on this planet with /Lost in his "what if" thoughts combined with his PTSD filled anxiety from the accident, Castiel missed the sound of Dean as he had come up alongside the car and just as he grabbed the gear shift to dropped the car back into drive. Castiel cursed Dean once more by growling out "Fuck you, Dean. I'm not going to be your ping pong ball anymore"/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5;""Wow, Cas. Tell me how you really feel." Startled, Cas looked through the lowered passenger window and stared back at familiar green eyes that were currently crinkled in suppressed laughter, of Dean Winchester./p
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