A/N: I just want to thank my betas dljensengirl88 and LovelyFangirls for the help and the edits. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

The Letters of a Warped Angel

Dear Emeline,

I guess I just want to start out by introducing myself. My name is Castiel. I'm your papa. It's crazy; I never thought I'd be doing this so please forgive me if these letters aren't perfect. Of all the things that are happening to you right now, things you're probably experiencing as you prepare for the challenge we call life, I just want you to know that I love you, so, so much and I haven't even met you yet.

Really, the thought of you makes me so happy. I can't wait to finally hold you in my arms where you can be safe.

I have so much to show you too, so many things for you to experience. And I'll be the best papa you could ever have. I'll love and protect you and you'll never need anything. I'll even sing you this song my mother used to sing to me when I was just a child. Sometimes I sing it to you when you're being restless. It's called You Are My Sunshine and it's one of my favorite songs. I like to sing it when I'm sad. It makes me feel better. I think about you too when I'm down and the thought of you, so precious, makes me happy again.

I also like talking to you. I'm not sure if you can hear me, but I don't mind doing it. It's comforting to have someone with me.

I figured I'd write you letters so that you can always have a part of me with you, no matter what happens.

I wish I could give you more than just a few pieces of paper with writing on them, but I'm afraid there isn't much I can give you. All I can promise you, my dear, sweet Emeline, is that you won't ever have to worry, for I love you even more than I love myself.

Now, you're probably wondering what the world is like. It's a beautiful place, Emeline, but it's also scary. Believe me, I know. I want to protect you from all of it, but I can't. I have to admit that. No matter how much I want to shield you from some of the horrors you will have to face, I can't shield you from everything.

I'm getting a little sleepy now; you take out a lot of my energy. Though I love every minute of waking up in a world where you're a part of me, I have to get some rest. Hopefully when I fall asleep tonight I'll have peaceful dreams.

Yours and yours only,

Papa

Dear Emeline,

I feel as if you're the only one I have to talk to. You're the only one who listens to me. I like talking to you. I like talking to the deer that come by the kitchen window too. I know they're merely animals and that they don't talk back, but it is the only way I feel anything positive, especially since…never mind.

I keep thinking of all the things we will do together once you're born. When I was younger, there was a tree that all the kids used to climb and play on. Not me, I used to hide up in that tree as a way to escape the world. Where we live, we're surrounded by a huge forest. I love the trees. They bring me peace. I hope you learn to love them too as you grow older.

I miss trees. I miss outside. I can't do this. I don't want to keep lying to you because you deserve much better than that. This world is full of liars and I'm supposed to be protecting you from them, not becoming one.

I love you, Emeline, and I hope you forgive me of my faults. The truth is I'm frightened. I feel as if as the days add up, so do my mistakes. Every day is yet another reminder that I'm imperfect. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be free.

I want to protect you, but I'm afraid I can't even protect myself. I'm alone and I'm scared. Really scared.

I have to keep this letter short; someone is knocking on the door right now.

Love,

Your Papa

"Cas!" Dean's voice booms through the door of the guest room. "I'm coming in."

Castiel hurries to hide the letters on the top shelf of a nearby closet, the same place he had found a strange but beautiful amulet that he decided would remain hidden with the letters, until he was ready to get them.

Dean yells again and Castiel stiffens, but moves to stand by the door, prepared to face Dean and accept whatever further punishment awaits him. But what could be worse than this? What else could Dean possibly dish out that could be worse than spending his days in the God-forsaken guest room?

He waits for his answer.

The lock clicks and soon Dean is stumbling in the room, reeking of whiskey. His eyes are a tad bit unfocused but when they settle on Cas, they shine with renewed clarity.

"Castiel, you're free to go," The words are slurred but the cobalt-eyed man can just make them out. They bring Castiel little relief because the oily smirk that rises on Dean's face afterward makes his heart sink to his stomach.

"On one condition," Dean stumbles closer to Castiel and the ebony-haired man steps back. Seeing Dean drunk is a novelty in itself. In the very short years of their union, Castiel has never seen Dean drink himself to that point. He always had control over it; he never let anything get to his head. I have to remain focused, babe, it's part of the job…

Yet here he stands, drunk as ever and Castiel doesn't like it.

Dean is still talking but his words are said sluggishly. "You've been really good these couple of days. I'm proud of you and I realized that you don't deserve this. So I'm letting you go, on the condition that you never ever give me reason to be scared like that again."

Castiel nods. The irony isn't lost to him though. After all, Dean has nothing to be afraid of. He's not in Cas' position and he may never understand what it's like to live in fear, but Castiel keeps that to himself.

Dean continues to step closer until he reaches Castiel and wraps him up in his arms. Dean is deceptively warm and it reminds Castiel of something, like he's been held like this before by someone else and it was a comforting experience.

With Dean, Castiel's heart beats wildly in his chest and he lets himself hope. He will be allowed out of the guest room and things will return to normal.

He hugs back tentatively, wanting to get it over with so he can just leave the damned room already.

But then Dean draws back and tilts Castiel's head up so he can take a good look at his eyes. Dean's gaze is hooded, and Castiel prays it's just the alcohol, until Dean kisses him and it confirms what he's been dreading even more than the commands.

Castiel breaks away from the whiskey-laden kiss. "No, Dean," he warns.

Dean's eyes narrow into slits. "You haven't thanked me for letting you out." And then, in a more pleading tone. "Come on, babe, we can do it right here. At least, it's not the nursery."

Castiel ignores him. "I said no, Dean. You're drunk and I'm tired. Let's just get some sleep." He moves to walk away, but he gets as far as the door when Dean says it.

"Come here, Cas." The raven-haired man whips his head back around to glare at Dean, and tries to condense all his hatred, all the spite into one look. Dean glances away, but if it's out of shame or guilt, Castiel doesn't know.

Castiel, ever the obedient one, does as he's told with an energy that seems to come from out of nowhere. He has had little contact with Dean these past few days, even taking his meal and walking to the bathroom without saying a word to his husband, and so the curse has had no opportunity to flourish. Castiel supposes that maybe the mercy he had been spared these past few days was just temporary reprieve. Too bad it was short-lived.

He gets over to Dean who plants his hands on either side of Cas' face. "You shouldn't be so ungrateful," Dean admonishes without steam then presses his lips gently to Castiel's, before they move to Cas' neck and then continue their journey to his shoulders while his hands are busy under Cas' shirt, feeling his bump.

Dean looks up at Castiel with wonder and appreciation at the life they both created, before his expression morphs into one of sheer possessiveness.

The shirt goes first and then so do Cas' slacks – thanks to baby Emeline, he could no longer fit in his jeans— until Cas is standing before Dean in nothing but his underwear. He isn't hard. He doesn't want to do this. As a last ditch effort, he tries again to tell Dean no. It's no surprise when Dean orders him again. "We're going to have sex and you're going to enjoy it."

And soon Cas is as hard and wanting as Dean is. Every nerve ending is on fire and all he can think about is want, need, yes.

When Dean reveals himself to Cas, the dark-haired man feels his mouth water and his body react. For once, his mind isn't reprimanding him or giving him warnings. It's just a litany of want, need, yes until he's dizzy with it.

Cas takes Dean in hand and strokes him until Dean is with him, right there on that high of wanting and passion and then Dean is just as eager as he is.

Dean pushes Cas backward until Cas can feel the mattress of the guest bed touching his shins.

Laying Cas down on his back, Dean arches the smaller man's hips up and positions him before preparing Cas for the intrusion. Castiel can't stay quiet as Dean's index finger slides in. He moans and groans, writhing on the bed as if it physically hurts him to have to wait. Soon Dean is adding a second and third lubed finger and Castiel can hear angels singing. He begs Dean to hurry up, more and please falling from his lips as he tries to urge Dean on.

When the blunt head of Dean's member finally breaches him, the fire seems to tame, but he isn't completely satisfied. He needs more and Dean is moving too slow.

"Come on," Castiel persuades. "Harder, faster, need you, Baby."

"Shh," Dean coos. "I'll give it to you." And he does as promised. He keeps pushing until he's buried to the hilt, and the pleasure they both feel is so intense that they both see stars dance behind their eyelids. When everything has calmed, Dean sets the pace to an almost punishing speed.

He orders Castiel to be louder, to tell him what he needs to hear. Castiel does so happily. He continues begging and crying out and giving Dean praise. Dean calls him beautiful, tells him he's perfect and on any given day Castiel would protest and deny him viciously, but he's so high on carnality that he just returns the compliment with more praise.

Castiel wants to come but he can't because Dean hasn't told him to. His body is under Dean's control now; at its most vulnerable point where it's more responsive to any little thing that Dean says or does. His release is building inside him and he feels like he could burst if Dean continues. Then it's just overwhelming relief when Dean strokes him and says, "You can come Cas, it's okay."

Then the floodgates open and Cas is practically sobbing; it feels so good. Dean isn't that far behind. He lasts a few more thrusts before Castiel is feeling the scalding liquid spill inside him.

Want, need, yes, slowly fades into the background of his mind where clarity is gradually returning. Look what you've done, is the last thing barraging his thoughts before sleep beckons to him, but he doesn't surrender, not yet. Castiel's soul is troubled, his slumber is often restless because of this. At least, that's what his mother once told him when he was having a bad night. Dean is already dead asleep, and as the same drowsiness chases Cas, he gets a glimpse of a plaid shirt, but the memory is transient. He falls asleep that night, sated, but confused and feeling even more worthless than before.

A/N: Thank you for reading!