Hey Everyone its me again bringing you another two chapters because i am just that amazing lol. Anyways i have wonderful news. I have finished writing What Defines Them. It was a lot longer then i ever hoped or expected it to be. And since you know that this story is ending soon...i have another one lined up that i am so working on as well. This next one won't be so driven by plot...but more just cute cliches. So anyways i have to tell you there are still a few more chapters left of this...four or five if i remember correctly. I have to go edit them soon. Also Thanks so much for the Reviews,Favs, and Alerts. I really appercaite them and it makes me want to write a whole lot more. I just really think you guys are awesome. When we get closer to the end...i'll have a question or two for you guys...but you will have wait and see. =)

~Kai


Present

Castiel groaned. He felt terrible. His stomach turned and he felt the need to wretch. He attempted to open his eyes, but his lids felt like they weighed as much as a brick of cement. Finally after a long time of struggling he was able to pry them open.

And upon opening them the first thing he noticed was that he was no longer in the warm mansion of the Winchester's, but after what had happened that didn't surprise him, but how long ago had it happened? A hour? A couple of hours? A day? More than a day? Castiel quickly deducted that he no longer had any sense of time. He had lost it all when he had lost consciousness. His final memory before he had fallen into unconscious, flashed across his mind and he flinched at the image of John Winchester's condescending sneer. How he loathed that man.

Now that he had completed one struggle he moved on to the next one, which consisted of sitting up. Castiel attempted to move his body by using his hands to push himself up. Realization then struck him as he wiggled his hands, which were restrained by cold metal manacles. After this realization Castiel felt another wave of nausea roll over him and he did wretched. Nothing of course came out due to there not being anything in his stomach anyways, but the bile still stung his throat as he groaned once more.

Castiel gazed flitted around the cold dark prison. Enochian sigils lined the walls like graffiti. Which meant that he would still be powerless, even if by some act of god he would able to escape his collar that was only barely choking him. The prison was dark and there were no lights or at least none that Castiel could see. But Castiel eyes had adjusted already, though the darkness still made it hard to see anything that wasn't already right in front of his face. This of course meant like virtually nothing because his warm cheek was pressed against the clod hard stone floor.

Everything in his body hurt, and it reminded him of the time only a couple of months ago when he had first met Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester. The thought of Dean Winchester brought up so many conflicting feelings. He hated him for killing his brother, but he still loved Dean. He couldn't deny these feelings anymore they were much too strong. He heaved a long breath that made him cough and spit up a mouthful of blood. He spit it out onto the floor.

He winched and rolled over to get away from the small pool of blood he had created. He then squinted suddenly as a blinding yellow light filled the dark prison. Castiel heard the scuffling of shoes and then in his small field of vision a pair of expensive leather loafers appeared. He recognized them from the auction. They belonged to the man with white irises. The man John Winchester had called Alastair.

He watched the man crouch down and reach out a long slender hand. Castiel cringed as it gently caressed his face. He squirmed away from the man's touch, but the man just shrugged and traced his hand up Castiel's temple until his fingers tangled themselves within Castiel's hair. Alastair's grip suddenly tightened as he yanked Castiel's head up so that they looked into each other's eyes.

"Dean's not going to save you, if anything he is afraid of you. Afraid of you and what you have done. I also just wanted to inform you of the big day you have ahead of yourself. I am going to clip your wings." Alastair watched a look of horror spread across the angel's face.

Castiel struggled to compose himself, but knew he came up short because of Alastair's sneer widened. Suddenly he was slammed back to the floor his hair released from Alastair's grip. He watched the man's leather loafers turn sharply and exit the prison taking the source of light with him.

Castiel was once again surrounded by darkness. He felt scared. He had never felt this scared in his life, and now regret was flooding throughout him. What he wouldn't do to see his brother again. All he wanted to do was to apologize to Michael. To tell him he was sorry that he wouldn't be able to fulfill his destiny. But what he wanted most of all was to just see Dean Winchester one more to time to tell him it didn't matter what had happened because it truly didn't change how he felt. He loved him and no matter what happened nothing would change that because he had tried. He had tried so hard because he knew deep down that something as horrid like this would happen, but he took the risk anyways because he loved Dean Winchester, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Castiel tried to push Dean out of his thoughts. He had more pressing matters to worry about, not that it mattered because he had no hope. He had nothing.

Castiel closed his eyes and waited because time was all that he had left, and even that was now limited.


Present (Continued)

Hopeless: adj, 1: having no expectation of good or success: DESPAIRING b: not susceptible to remedy or cure: INCURABLE 2a: giving no ground for hope: DESPERATE b: incapable of solution, management, or accomplishment: IMPOSSIBLE

"Dad! You Bastard!" Dean yelled as he shoved open the door to his father's office.

John stood up from his desk and gave his son a confused expression. Dean felt the rage he had been accumulating since his discovery become unleashed as he lunged at his father.

Dean was the first to start throwing punches, but the first to land one was John. It hit Dean across the jaw and making him stagger backwards. Dean scraped the back of his hand across his lower lip noticing the smudge of blood as he clenched his fist and delivered a solid right hook that hit John right in the stomach making him double over, grunting in pain. Only after this break in the fight did Dean notice Sam sudden arrival, which was probably because of the shouting Dean had done just moment earlier.

"Cass! You made me doubt him! You turned us into the monsters!" Dean spat as John lunged forward and grabbed the lapels of Dean's shirt.

"I'm protecting you, son! This angel threatens our well being….Our balance! Don't you care about any of that?" John growled in a low voice shaking Dean slightly in the process, but not releasing his vice grip upon Dean's shirt.

"What dad? Not ready to give up your opulent life-style? That's what you have been afraid of? Was this why you pushed me into that engagement with Lisa? You knew all this was going to happen, so you began scrambling to prevent it. Because you knew something was going to happen. The only question I have for you, Dad, is how did you know anything anyway?" Dean muttered darkly, his eyes narrowing sharply upon his father, who just looked away from his son.

"Because…." John's voice began to shake as he continued speaking "Your mother told me." His voice was small and seemed to barely fit him.

Both Sam and Dean just stared at their father. They were both too stunned to say anything so John just continued "She was an angel….And I did the worst thing I could possibly do to her." John's whole body was now shaking, which caused him to release his grip upon Dean's shirt.

Dean took a hesitant step back as both he and Sam remained silent, waiting for their father to elaborate. But of course, neither of them could find the words they were looking for, not to mention they had just received life changing news that most would have said was unbelievable.

John being in love with an angel? Their mother being an angel? The whole idea seemed preposterous even to Dean and he felt he was capable of believe just about anything now days.

"I killed her…." John's voice was low "I told him to clip her wings." John closed his eyes as if there was more he was trying to recall.

"You did what!" Dean growled as he walked forward and shoved his father once more. "Clipping angel's wings means death! How could you be so selfish?" Dean's voice was again rising in anger.

Sam looked over at Dean a confused expression was across his face. He didn't know Angelology as well as his father or Dean did, so he didn't know the consequences of clipping angel's wings. But given Dean's reaction he couldn't believe that it was a good thing.

"I don't understand." Sam muttered as he continued to look at Dean for an explanation.

"Clipping the wings of an angel is a risky thing. It will indefinitely halt the flow of their magic. This will either kill them or they will become more or less human. Most angels die because they have all this excess power that their bodies that they can no longer store, and with no way of releasing this power it slow kills them from the inside out. Clipping the wings of an angel is a big gamble if you are betting on them becoming human. In fact it's a bet that Dad should have known not to take." Dean finished disgust and malice clearly evident in his voice, while Sam just looked at his father in disbelief.

"Dean you have to understand. It was the only way for us to be together. I really cared about her, but my image was just too important." John insisted glaring down his oldest son.

"Fuck that Dad! I never, not once thought of doing that when it came to Castiel. Heck that idea never even crossed my mind. The only idea that did actually cross my mind was to maybe, give this all up, because for the first time in my life I was happy." Dean stammered as John just shook his head as if he was unable to believe that those words had come from his own son's mouth, which made Dean continue his rant "I'm tired of following you, and for once in my pathetic life I am going to do something for myself." Dean finished his voice continually rising

"Dean, listen your upset….It's understandable, but you have to calm down" John sighed in a soothing voice as he reached out to finally comfort his son.

"No! I'm not doing anything for you anymore. Hell, it's about time you do something for me. Now tell me where you sent Castiel!" Dean yelled pulling away from his father and glaring fiercely at him "Tell me now Dad because if you don't and I find Castiel dead. I will kill you."

John's eyes widened in surprise, and nodded his head up and down as he went into detail about where he had sent Castiel.

Now though Dean was storming down the hall his rage taking over him once more.

"Dean, hold up." Sam called, but Dean didn't halt or even slow his pace "Dean slow down. I'm on board for freeing Castiel, but we can't walk in guns blazing and hope to make it out alive." Sam finished with a sigh as he caught up with Dean and matching his stride as they headed down the hall of the mansion.

"Yeah! Well! Then what do you have in mind?" Dean snapped as he suddenly halted his pace when he saw a wide smirk cross over his brother's lips.

"Dean, I have a plan, but we have to make one little stop first." Sam said confidently as he quickly explained his plan to his brother, and Dean just smiled. He liked it.