He didn't want to believe it. He felt sick. He refused to believe it. This was harder to handle then deceiving the Winchesters into starting the apocalypse. Worse than letting Lucifer free. Worse than watching Dean struggle over the thought of losing his brother. Worse than the thought of letting Dean become a puppet for Michael.
Barham laughed, it was deep and sinister. "He'll leave you. It's been foretold by the prophets."
"They're wrong."
"Castiel, heaven's new golden boy, is questioning the word of God? That is blasphemy, brother." Barham's dark form circled Castiel. Uriel's twin was just as ruthless and apparently just as malicious. "You know as well as I what is going to happen. Little Sammy Winchester is going to give it up to our delightful big brother Lucy and old Dean-o is going to get all noble and let Michael take him for a ride. Maybe you could give him some pointers on what he likes."
"Barham," Castiel warned.
The other angel laughed, it made Castiel's skin crawl and his stomach slosh. "How long have you been with that ape? A human year and a half..How can he mean anything to you in that time? Did you fuck him before or after you dragged him out of hell? I think Ol' Lucifer had the right idea skinning the bastards."
"That is blasphemy, brother."
A hand slammed into Castiel's face. It was almost too fast to detect, but the impact left a trail of blood falling from his nose. Castiel didn't move an inch. "Don't mock me," Barham growled. "I am the 'smiter of resistance,' and you have been one damn resistant pain in our ass Castiel."
"Our?"
"You have forgotten all about your brethren, have you not? Should I remind you how close you are to falling?" Barham's vicious eyes were staring straight into his, his teeth were bared like a wolf's, Castiel just stared defiantly straight. "I don't think I have to. I think every time you sin with that man you know exactly how close you are. Is that your goal, to become a martyr for love? Surely you are not that foolish to get wrapped up in that disgusting emotion."
"God loved humans."
"Look where that got him. God is dead, Castiel."
The last year had been hell on earth. Literally. With Lucifer free and the Winchesters trying to get him back into the cage, things had been a little more than tense. He and Dean spent more time the last few months fighting demons, fighting angels, fighting each other than they spent enjoying each other. He remembered the last good day they had together, the day in the creek. The way Dean's hands and lips explored him gently in the warm sun. The happiness radiating from the hunter. It had been a year of consistently downhill things since then. The little alone time they got consisted of furious fucks and fights about nothing. Dean was miserable, and so was Castiel. And both felt like they were the cause of each other's unhappiness. Neither of them could be gentle anymore, the 24/7 war they were fighting had leeched everything but anger out of them. Time was spent slamming each other into walls, screaming, and sneaking out before the other woke up. Both of them prayed for the other. They still loved each other more than words could ever express. But both had been broken beyond repair. The warriors' only reaction was to fight each other. The last words he'd heard out of Dean were "Maybe if I give myself to Michael I can end this, and you can go back to your life and I can go back to hell. You should have never dragged me out of there, Cas. Disrupted the balance and all that shit. You started this all, and now I have to finish it." He'd left the hunter in his pool of alcohol and desperation. Not that Castiel hadn't said more than a few choice words to Dean about his character and strength. He felt so very human, being dragged to that level of pettiness.
"That pathetic hunter, he doesn't even love you anymore Castiel. You've been blinded by your bond. He's using you to swing things in his favor. Don't sacrifice yourself for him, brother."
Barham laid a heavy hand on Castiel's shoulder. Castiel refused to let the words get to him. He was wrong, the prophets were wrong. Dean would never do that to him. Things hadn't been the best. They hadn't been in the same hemisphere as good. But Castiel refused to give up. They had done the impossible before.
"Aww, is that a flicker of hope in your eyes? I thought we had done our best to break you of that."
A fist struck Castiel again. He refused to let his face register the pain as his cheek bone shattered. It would be healed in a moment, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell.
"Castiel. Heaven's little rebel child. How come you got a pass, Castiel and noble angels like Lucifer fell for less? Someone been sucking up to daddy?" He made a grotesque slurping noise.
"Maybe I'm the only angel with a soul left."
"And what a pretty little soul it is. So untainted by corruption. You stick out like a whore in a convent."
"I feel like that simile is a little backwards."
"YOU WILL OBEY OR YOU WILL FALL," Barham roared inches from Castiel's unflinching face. "You are not left with the luxury of options. There are very few of us left that are even willing to take you in, Castiel. Join us now, show that despicable human who is king now."
His fists clenched as the other angel insulted his hunter.
"Is that your response? Really Castiel. You're going to doubt the prophets? They have never been wrong."
Castiel didn't say anything. Dean wouldn't leave him, and he would not leave Dean. They would this disgusting war and Castiel would willingly rip out his grace. He no longer wanted to be of this ilk. He would fall, and all would be well. They just had to hold out a little longer. He replayed the day at the creek and a thousand other perfect moments in his head to block out Barham.
The other angel cracked his knuckles. "Well brother, I am going to have to try a little harder to convince you. It's for your own good."
Every bone that broke, Castiel just pictured the hunters smile. Every slice in his flesh became a day dream about their future.
The prophets were wrong. The angels were wrong. Castiel's love could not be broken.