OK, this chapter took me almost two hours to write because I wanted to make sure I got the dialogue perfect from the YouTube clip I found! So be warned: If ya haven't watched Episode 21: When the Levee Breaks then you will be reading a serious spoiler for one of the scenes! Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 6

Dean was angry. And hurt. And more depressed than he had been for a very long time which he honestly didn't believe was humanly possible.

That night with Castiel had hurt him. Hurt him more deeply than anything that had hurt him before. The tone of anger and almost disgust in Castiel's voice had cut through him like a knife, leaving no question of what he thought of Dean and of how things were now going to be.

Dean closed his eyes as he listened to Sam's screams from Bobby's basement. He had never felt so alone in his whole life. Sam… well… Dean didn't even know who Sam was anymore. Christ, what was he thinking, believing that drinking damn demon blood was a good thing?! And now Dean was pretty damn sure Sam hated his guts and that he'd never forgive him for doing this to him. And while Bobby was always a good and trusted friend… he wasn't Sam…

And Castiel…

Dean felt tears sting the back of his eyelids and he rubbed his face furiously, trying to will them away.

He hated Castiel right now. He knew it was foolish for him to feel that way, especially since he knew deep down that the reason Castiel had been taken away was because of the things he had done to help Dean. But he hated him just the same. He hated the way the angel made him feel. He hated the looks Castiel gave him. Well… used to give him. He hated the false hope that Castiel had given him by his presence, that somehow everything was going to be OK now that they had the angels on their side. Now that whole thing looked like a big pile of shit.

But most of all… Dean hated himself. He hated himself for getting so attached to the damn angel. He hated the feels brewing inside of him that he didn't understand. He hated himself for ever secretly admitting to himself that he was in love with Castiel. He hated himself for being so naïve and stupid. He hated the dreams he let himself have of making love with Castiel.

Another one of Sam's agonized screams cut through the air, jarring Dean from his self-loathing. He sat up from the couch and buried his face in his hands.

What the fuck am I going to do? He thought desperately to himself. I can't do this alone. And Bobby doesn't know what to do. So what do I do?

Dean's stomach knotted as he listened to Sam scream again. He covered his ears with his hands, desperately trying to block out the sound.

He needed help. Badly. And each one of Sam's screams was like a blow to the gut, reminding him of how much he had failed Sam. He couldn't take it anymore.

He knew who he'd have to ask, as much as he didn't want to. But it was either him or some other asshole angel and Dean really was up for dealing with someone else. Because whether or not he was pissed at him the fact remained Castiel was his angel.

Well… he used to be…

***

Castiel closed his eyes, his heart breaking with every yell coming from Dean's throat.

Dean was angry. Very angry. He could hear it in his voice and see it on his face, even though Dean couldn't see him.

He had wished Dean would just give up. Would turn around and go back inside so that he wouldn't have to talk with him. Truthfully, he should have known better. With what had happened with Sam Castiel knew Dean was being backed into a corner and that the man would fight with everything left in him. Even if he was angry at Castiel, Dean still would rely on him for help if it was really needed.

Castiel wanted to. He desperately wanted to help with every fiber of his being. He wanted to take Dean in his arms and assure him that all would be well. Then he'd go and smite that little whore of a demon who had betrayed him so that she'd no longer be a problem. He'd make sure Sam simply slept through his detox and not suffer the way he had been.

That's what he wanted to do. Too bad he had orders to do everything but that.

He went to Dean, reluctantly. Up close Castiel could see the lines of fatigue in Dean's face. He could hear the raw hoarseness in his voice after hours of screaming into the cold night.

"It's about time," Dean said, obviously tired and annoyed. "I've been screaming myself hoarse out here for two and a half hours now!"

Castiel forced himself to push down his feelings.

"What do you want?" He asked solemnly, walking towards Dean.

"Well, you can start with what the hell happened in Illinois," Dean quipped back.

Castiel felt a bolt of fear shoot through him, but he shoved it aside. "What do you mean?" He tried to appear unconcerned by Dean's words.

"Cut the crap," Dean growled back. "You were going to tell me something!"

I was going to tell you the truth. I was going to tell you about Anna and Utah and how much I love you and how you showed me pleasures far beyond anything I had ever experienced before…

"Nothing of important," Castiel replied softly, averting his gaze as he said it, not wanting to see Dean's face.

Dean stared at him incredulously. "You got ass-reamed in Heaven, and it was not of important-?!"

Castiel felt another jolt of fear and shame course through him at Dean's words. The wounds on his back flared with pain, a reminder of his punishment. He shot Dean a desperate look. "Dean, I can't," Castiel said with quiet earnest.

Dean stared at him and Castiel could see in his green eyes that he was desperately trying to understand, trying to figure just what had happened. Castiel looked away, not wanting Dean to see the shame and guilt.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel said quietly, praying Dean would know just how much he meant it. He began walking away in order to gather back up what courage he had left. He took a deep breath before quickly shifting the subject and taking on a more authoritative tone. "Get to the reason you really called me. It's about Sam, right?"

He stood with his back to Dean. His vessel's heart pounded in his ribcage and fearfully wondered for a few seconds if Dean was even going to answer him. His eyes darted nervously as he wondered what he was going to do if he had to call Dean back. Thankfully, it didn't come to that.

"Can he do it?" Dean asked. "Kill Lillith? Stop the Apocalypse?"

"Possibly, yes," Castiel replied, now back on familiar footing. Zachariah had been sure to instruct Castiel on every word he would have to say. He turned to face Dean, his tone becoming serious despite his best efforts. "As you know, he'd have to take certain steps."

Dean nodded a small bitter smile on his lips. "Crank up the hell-blood regime."

"Consuming the amount of blood it would take to kill Lillith would change your brother forever. Most likely… he would become the next creature you would feel compelled to kill."

Castiel wondered if Dean would be able to see through this act. Would be able to see that the angel was putting on a front. Dean, however, was too upset to notice. Zachariah's script was having the exact effect on Dean that the superior angel had said it would. Castiel pressed on; nervous he would lose his courage.

"There is no reason this would have to come to pass, Dean," He continued, his tone more gentle. He began moving toward the hunter. "We believe it's you, Dean, not your brother."

He could see Dean start at his words. He moved closer, but not too close despite everything he wanted. He had to stay focused. He had to repeat the awful half-truths he was told he must tell.

"The only question for us is whether you are willing to accept it."

Dean looked hesitant, as if he wasn't sure what to make of what Castiel was saying. Castiel looked him in the eye.

"Stand up and accept your role," He said determinedly. "You are the one who will stop it."

The angel and man looked at each other for a moment. Castiel could feel the mask slipping. He was afraid. Afraid that Dean believed him. Believed the scripted half-truths that Castiel had told him. He wanted Dean to tell him he was a lying bastard. That he knew that there were other ways to save Sam. That he wanted no part in this war.

But he knew Dean was suffering. Was suffering under the guilt that his original role in the Apocalypse bore on him. Was suffering as he watched his little brother scream under the agony of detox. Suffering with guilt that he wasn't the man he felt his father wanted him to be. Castiel knew Dean wanted to be a hero. And Dean wanted to hear his angel say it.

"If I do this… Sammy doesn't have to?" Dean asked with quiet desperation.

Castiel looked at Dean, wishing he could tell the truth. "If it gives you comfort to see it that way," He let slip.

Dean let out a bitter chuckle and shook his head in amazement.

"You're a dick these days," He said bitterly, walking away.

Dean's words struck Castiel in the heart and tore it to shreds. He forced himself to stand straight and appear unaffected despite his grief. This was torture of the most heinous in nature. He was allowing the man he loved more than anything to suffer and only adding to his grief. It was wrong. It was so wrong. But what choice did he have?

After a long pause he heard Dean take a deep breath.

"Fine I'm in."

No… please no, Dean…

"Do you give yourself over wholly to the service of God and His angels?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"Say it."

He watched Dean turn and look at him, confused. Castiel wanted to fall to his feet and beg him not to. He wanted to run. He wanted all of this to end. But He instead forced himself to fix his gaze on Dean, but he knew his face was betraying him. But he also knew it was too late.

"I give myself over wholly to serve God and you guys," Dean said firmly as he walked back over to face Castiel directly.

"Do you swear to follow His will and His word as swiftly and obediently as you did your own father's," Castiel continued slightly rushed, afraid that his own will to continue would collapse.

"Yes, I swear," Dean replied.

I'm sorry, Dean… I'm so sorry… I'm sorry for this… I'm sorry I cannot protect you…

"Now what?" Dean asked.

"Now you wait. And we call on you when it's time."

Castiel met Dean's gaze until the young hunter dropped his head, obviously exhausted. Castiel dropped his as well. He hadn't wanted this. He despised Zachariah at that moment for knowing just how to manipulate Dean. Castiel turned to leave, not being able to bear being in Dean's presence any longer.

"Cas, wait."

Castiel froze. He swallowed hard, not able to bring himself to turn around.

"What is it, Dean?"

"There's… there's something else I want to ask you."

"Yes?" Castiel was sure Dean could hear his vessel's heart as it felt like it was ready to explode from his chest.

"The last few months… I don't know how to explain it… but I… I feel like something's been missing… like I'm supposed to remember something that happened, but I can't. Do you know anything about it?"

Castiel thought he was going to physically collapse from the anguish he was feeling. He swallowed hard, barely able to choke out a response. "I… I have no idea… Dean, I have to go…"

"Not yet," Dean replied almost impatiently. He reached out and grabbed Castiel by the coat sleeve and forced him to turn to face him. "It's something about you… I know that much… but I can't remember what. You're telling me you have no idea?"

Castiel looked at Dean. He could see the confusion in his face. Castiel wanted to him in his arms, to feel the warm and gentle comfort Dean had given him so freely that night in Utah. He wanted to have one more kiss, something that would give him some assurance that Dean somehow still loved him, would always love him.

"I'm sorry. I don't know," Castiel replied quietly.

He quickly pulled away from Dean's grasp and walked away. He didn't stop or turn around despite hearing Dean call his name. A tear slipped down his cheek as he disappeared into the night.