Author's Note: I'm so sorry everyone! I posted this on my phone and had no idea that it would mess up the text. My deepest apologies.
Many thanks to WRATH77 for pointing out the error. :)
Also, I know that I haven't said this yet, but this is kind of a Destiel fic. It can be read as a really close friendship, which is every single relationship on the show anyway :)
Again, I'm so sorry for the mistake, and enjoy the chapter!
The dimly lit warehouse where Castiel found Sam tied and gagged to a chair was about twenty miles from the Bunker. He was barely conscious; his eyes closed and his head was resting on his chest. Sam looked up when he heard the angel enter. The man looked groggily at Cas; his eyes unfocused.
About half an hour ago, Cas had heard Sam's faint prayers, dimed by his lack of grace. He had been in a remote corner of heaven, taking inventory of some of the more dangerous heavenly weapons, along with Hannah, his 'ever faithful' second in command. She was the only one who had been informed of his... condition. When he heard the Sam whispers in his head, Cas's face immediately paled. Hannah completely misinterpreted this reaction to mean that Cas was dying. Being the good little soldier, she grabbed the inventory sheet from his shaking hands and carefully placed it in her green overcoat's large inner pocket, hoping to save the valuable information, even if it cost her boss his life. Most of the angels had taken to wearing overcoats with large pockets now that Castiel had informed them of the usefulness of pockets and overcoats.
Even with Hannah's help, it had taken Cas an embarrassing amount of time to find his human friend. Once he had started listening, Cas realized the gravity of the situation. In his prayers, Sam had filled him in on Dean's 'condition.'
Back in the warehouse, Cas checked his human friend over, seeking out injuries. On the back of Sam's head, was a small lump, marking where he had been knocked unconscious. His eyes still would not focus, making Cas think that maybe his friend had received a concussion. Sam's right arm was the only one of his limbs that wasn't tied up. It hung limply over the side of the chair. As Cas gingered moved it onto the arm rest, he heard Sam let out a low groan and Cas watched as the hunter's eyes rolled back in his head. After making sure that Sam didn't have any other injuries that needed immediate treatment, Cas then ungagged the now completely unconscious man, and began working on the handcuffs that encased his human friend's hands.
Dean's lips curled back into a parody of his usual smile. His hell-black eyes glimmered in the dark. "What's the matter, Angel?" He asked the dark figure untying the unconscious man. "Is little Sammy all tied up? Boo hoo." With the mocking cry, Dean sauntered forward towards the falling angel, his arms swing at his sides, back and forth. Cas stepped back from Sam, hands raised in a defensive gesture, but still the demon advanced. "Dean." Cas began. "Dean, you really don't want to do this."
The black eyed man laughed. "Do what Angel? You know I'd never hurt you…" his voice dripping with the amount of sarcasm the demon was using.
"Dean. We can fix this." Dean cocked his head in a parody of Cas's look of confusion. "Fix what Angel? Fix me?" he gestured towards himself. "Oh you poor Angel, no wonder you fell." He closed the distance between himself and the falling angel; Cas's face frozen in fear.
His face now inches from Cas's, Dean whispered, "Don't be afraid Angel." before gently cupping Cas's face in his hand, Cas shivered and tried to turn away, but Dean moved his hand to behind the angel's head. His eyes flickered green.
"Cas, I'm not broken." He said softly, his voice sincere, before gently, pulling his falling angel in close… and kissing him. Surprising himself, Cas kissed back. The feeling of Dean's lips pressing against his own was… well, like Heaven. Then Dean pulled away, his eyes his normal green. He smiled at Cas, a normal Dean-smile. For some reason, words spoken long ago ran through Cas's mind as he stared into those green eyes.
"Dean Winchester is saved."
That's when Dean's smile became the Knight's smile. Cas knew something was wrong when he saw the way Dean's lips curled back into a feral grin. The smile seemed to mar Dean's perfect face. Cas's eyes widened as he stared at the maniacal face, not notice as Dean slowly drew up his hand that held the First Blade. With one swift motion, he brutally stabbed the blade into Castiel's heart. The falling angel let out a gasp, the pain a mere afterthought in his mind… because Dean Winchester just stabbed him? He fell to the floor, not even trying to fix his own wound. His grace was so depleted that he couldn't even help Sam, much less help himself.
The sting of betrayal was made even worse when Cas looked into Dean's eyes. Dean's eyes, that weren't their normal emerald green. Dean's eyes, that were pitch black. Black as the oblivion Cas was falling into.
Somewhere in his head, Cas heard The last thing Cas heard before succumbing to the void of darkness was Dean's voice, dripping in sarcasm, whispering in his ear. "Sorry Angel, but Dean Winchester is lost."
The last thing Cas thought before succumbing to eternal oblivion was his he had failed Dean yet again. How Cas, not Dean, was the monster in the story. How the black in Dean's eyes was merely a reflection of Cas's life: a shadowy failure that the world was better off without.
And so passed Castiel, Fallen Angel of the Lord, in the arms of the one he loved most; in the arms of the one he had failed.
AN: also, reviews are so appreciated, even if it's nothing more than "something's wrong with the format" or even "you misspelled..." You guys are amazing!