A/N: Thank you to everyone who's read and commented! And stayed with me! Apologies for being away… it's a long story. But I have not abandoned this fic! I will see it through to the end, and that's a promise.

Here's the next chapter! And Fandonsarehere, don't thank me yet.

Chapter Twelve

Castiel had nearly forgotten the reason they were meeting at Bobby's in the first place- they had the second trial to complete. They'd be ripping the wings, the most sacred part of an angel's body, off of one. And burning them.

The nausea immediately returned as Castiel, Sam, Gabe, and Dean reconvened outside. "So, what kind of angel deserves to get its wings chopped off?" Gabe asked, tone light but voice grim.

"I didn't even think about that," Castiel rubbed his eyes. "Sam?"

Sam looked taken aback. "What?"

"You're good at figuring out how to do stuff with the least amount of casualties," Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder.

Sam stared at the ground for a minute before his head snapped up. "Criminals," he said. "Are there any angels that committed crimes that haven't been punished?"

"Probably," Castiel began to pace. "I don't know exactly where, though, we might have to find-"

"Crowley," a British voice floated behind them. The burgundy-winged angel leaned against a rock near Bobby's flower beds. "Ta-da."

Castiel scowled, though he was going to suggest him. "Got any bright ideas?" Castiel crossed his arms.

"All of my ideas are bright," he said, pushing off the wall. "Just so happens that one in particular is a gem."

"Care to share with the class?" Dean asked, also irritated.

Crowley examined his nails. "Michael executes all his criminals immediately. Lucifer, however, keeps them for… fun." Castiel swallowed thickly. That didn't seem ominous at all.

"Let's go talk to Lucifer, then," Castiel mumbled. "He'll like the plan we have in mind."

"We'll get close," Crowley said, turning. "Then let me and Castiel go in first."

Castiel chose not to reply, instead following him into the forest, Dean, Sam, and Gabe close behind. They didn't have any magic supplies or spell books, just matches. The vision made it clear what they had to do.

"Sam, you probably shouldn't be grinning so hard," Castiel heard Gabe whisper. "We're about to de-featherate an angel."

"But I finally get to see them," he whispered back. "I mean, other than Crowley."

"I heard that," Crowley called.

"Nerd," Dean murmured.

Castiel smiled. For a moment, it was as if they were normal. Well, as normal as they could be. Sam fascinated, Dean joking, and Crowley sassy. Then they reached familiar ground.

"We're up," Crowley said. Sam, Gabe, and Dean stopped, nervously waiting twenty feet from the boulder that signified the entrance.

Rowena sat at the entrance, as she did earlier that day. "Ah, Castiel again," she smirked. "What can I do for you boys?" she said as the angels approached.

The two bowed. "Rowena," Crowley said. His voice was completely placid and polite, but his eye twitched. "Always a pleasure."

"We'd like to see Lucifer again," Castiel said with a strained smile. "Not on business, we just have a question for him." He glanced back at Sam and Dean, who stood awkwardly.

Rowena raised an eyebrow. "I'll see if he's available." She whistled, not even very loudly, but Lilith was there immediately. "Go see if the commander is available to talk with our guests," she smiled, and Lilith ran off.

There were several moments of awkward silence, in which the three humans joined their group. Dean had dropped back into his "royal face" and Sam looked like he was holding back excitement. Gabe seemed to be unfazed and Castiel was just… nervous.

Lilith appeared, finally. "Right this way." She took Castiel and Crowley's hands in hers, which was way more uncomfortable than Castiel thought it would be. He didn't let go, though, in case that would be considered rude. He definitely didn't want to upset anyone in this place.

Dean, Sam, and Gabe followed close behind. As they walked towards the base of the hilltop, towards the various cave entrances, the angels all stopped whatever they were doing to stare at them. Some stares were curious, some were leering, and some were downright hostile.

"Ah, my friends," Lucifer said, lounging once again at his tree stump table. Castiel bit his tongue at the words, but bowed nonetheless.

"Commander," he said in greeting. The humans looked at Castiel's outstretched wings and then at each other, deciding finally to bow their heads. Dean's was barely a glance to the ground. He was definitely stating his status as a king.

"Long time no see." Lucifer's eyes glanced to each of their faces, skipping past Dean's surprisingly quickly and coming to rest on Sam. "Tall one, aren't you?" he grinned, and Sam no longer looked excited. Gabe leaned imperceptibly towards him, but said nothing.

After a tense moment of silence, Lucifer pushed out of his chair and ruffled his feathers. "So, you have a question?"

"We do, Commander," Crowley stepped in. "We wanted to know if you have any… disobedient angels you wish to dispose of."

Lucifer raised his eyebrows. "I have plenty of disobedient angels, but I don't know if Alastair wants to let go of any of them." He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you want one?"

Crowley cleared his throat. "You see—"

"You're about to lie," Lucifer's stare was knowing and icy.

"I want to study them," Sam blurted, and all eyes turned to him. "I mean," he tried not to hunch down under the scrutiny. "I'm the academic type, and since we learned angels were real, I've wanted to get a closer look."

Lucifer smiled at him, a sort of feral grin. "I can see that." He tilted his head. "Why a criminal though? Why not someone better?" he ruffled his feathers a little, clear indication of what he was saying.

Sam swallowed. "We were actually planning on taking the wings and leaving the body," he said quickly. "With permission, of course. That would technically leave him still in Alastair's care and still give us the tools we need."

Castiel couldn't help the note of pride in Dean's smile. Sam was telling the truth, but with a twist that made it all seem much less sinister. He really was smart.

Lucifer turned and paced. "Well, that sounds like an excellent punishment," he mused. "And it would leave every party happy. Except your victim, of course." He looked back at Sam. "You'd make a great king."

Sam said nothing and Dean said nothing, though he clearly wanted to. "Can we take that as an agreement?" Crowley asked.

Lucifer nodded. "Why not? The cages are in that cave," he nodded towards the farthest left entrance. "Go pick one."

Castiel turned a little white. They had to pick the angel that would be, well, tortured? That was like playing god. Too dangerous.

They went anyway. What choice did they have?

Gabe brushed his hand against Sam's. "He seemed interested. You okay?" he asked quietly.

Sam swallowed. "He terrifies me."

"Hot cocoa and cuddling later," Gabe promised, and Sam gave him a relieved smile.

Dean and Castiel took the lead, crossing through the murmuring crowd of angels to the prison cave. There were steps going down, and Castiel held onto Dean's shoulder so he wouldn't slip. And maybe a little for comfort. The angel wanted time, but he also still loved him.

Contrary to what Castiel thought, the air grew warmer as they descended. When they came to a stop, they saw a few cages, as well as an angel with coal and gray spotted wings, threaded every few inches with a pale greenish color.

"Welcome," he said, and Castiel's brow furrowed. His voice was smooth but a little strained, as if he were more suited to yelling. It was a little higher pitched than he expected, but when his lips curled into a smile, those thoughts went away.

This must be Alastair. His eyes were a pale blue, sunken into his head like a skull. He was so thin, Castiel could make out the basic shape of his ribs. He looked frail, but the glint in his eye kept Castiel on his toes.

"Alastair?" Dean asked, creeping forward cautiously.

"My my, the cursed king here at last," he said in a creepy, sing-song voice.

Dean grit his teeth. "We're here for an angel," Castiel interjected. "One who's committed a crime."

Alastair's smile turned wry. "Well, you are in the prison." He swept his hand around. "Take your pick."

Castiel walked down the row of five cages, dirty, bloody bodies with broken wings filling the tiny cells. Most of them were hunched down and refusing eye contact, all except one.

He was a relatively handsome angel, hair aged to a blondish-gray. His wings, though streaked with blood and dirt, were a pale yellow color. When Castiel made eye contact, the angel smiled.

"What did he do to get in here?" Castiel asked quietly.

"Azazel had some… unique methods of testing new magic," Alastair didn't sound the least bit disgusted. "He preferred human children as subjects."

Sam bumped Dean. "The Sioux Falls Serial Killer," he murmured, and Dean's face hardened.

Castiel remembered that particular atrocity a few years back. Twenty-six children under the age of ten were abducted over the course of a year in the Sioux Falls territory, and each one of them was found dead and mangled right outside the forest line.

"We'll take him," Dean's voice lowered an octave.

"Big plans for me?" the yellow-winged angel finally spoke.

"Absolutely," Castiel muttered.

Alastair grabbed him roughly from the cell, tying his hands in front of him with a thick brown rope. "Have fun!" Alastair sang as Dean pushed Azazel roughly up the stairs.

They walked out into the afternoon sun, Azazel's broken wings dragging behind him. Lucifer approached, and the group stopped. "We'll have him back soon," Castiel nodded, but Lucifer put a hand on his arm.

"No," he said with a little smile. "You'll do it here."

Castiel's eyes widened and darted to the slowly-forming crowd of interested angels. "Out here in the open?"

"Why not?" Lucifer shrugged. "It'll give everyone a little taste of what the new angel and his king are made of."

Well shit. Not only was this going to be harder to do in front of other people, but it could potentially ruin relations with Lucifer's party. If they didn't do this and tried to find another way, the angels would see them as weak and spineless. If they did, then the angels would understand them to be violent and unmerciful. No one else in the clearing knew why they needed an angel's wings.

An unnamed angel held out a blade to Castiel. It was huge, more of a machete, and one edge was serrated. The dark bits scattered on the barbs may have been dried blood, and Castiel's thoughts stopped right there.

After a moment, Dean took it instead. Castiel remembered Sam saying something about Dean getting violent during the First Rebellion, and the look in his eye said that there was about to be a sequel of that.

Sam, Gabe, and Crowley stepped back. Dean shot Castiel a look, and the angel took a deep breath. They had to do this. This angel was a child killer and deserved more than clipped wings. They'd do this to save the kingdom.

"Hold it out," Dean said quietly, pushing the pale yellow wing away from his back. Castiel gripped the humerus bone and held it tight. Dean steeled himself, then brought the machete down. The flesh tore, and Azazel screamed.

It took so much longer than Castiel thought to cut off the wing. It wasn't a clean cut. Dean had to stop and saw through bone and cartilage, frequently wiping stray bloodied feathers off the blade. As he got closer to the bottom, they had to push Azazel forward to reach the end.

With one last slice, the wing was off and in Castiel's hands and he kind of wanted to vomit again. Good thing he hadn't eaten that day.

Azazel's screams died into broken moans. He hunched in on himself as blood poured down his back, bits of muscle and bone sticking out. The wing in Castiel's hands was dripping blood as well. Then Sam and Gabe were there, wrapping the wing in some sheet that Castiel had never seen.

Dean was breathing heavily, not an ounce of disturbance on his face. That in itself was a bit disturbing. "One down, one to go," Dean growled, and Castiel closed his eyes.

More screaming, more blood. Castiel did what he was more frequently having to do and shoved his emotions down, locking them into a little box for a while. They were saving Dean's kingdom. The coppery smell of blood wasn't important.

When they were finally done, Dean's knife and hands were drenched with blood and Azazel had passed out, wingless. Sam's expression was grave, Gabe was white as the sheet before it wrapped up a wing, and Crowley looked lost in thought. "An effective punishment, if you ask me," he murmured, but everyone ignored him.

Soon the wings were wrapped as best as they could be and tucked securely under both Winchesters' arms. They dragged the floor, but that was okay. They'd be burning them to complete the trial anyway.

"Thank you very much, Commander," Castiel said to Lucifer, voice strained.

"Not a problem," the angel grinned. As they walked out of the clearing, he called, "Looking forward to our next visit!"

They crossed into the forest and hurried away. While they walked, Gabe linked his arm with Castiel's. He was silent- what was there to say?

"Am I correct in saying that I'm not needed any more today?" Crowley said, making Castiel jump. He nearly forgot the other angel was there.

"Yes, thank you for your assistance." Castiel had barely finished speaking when Crowley spread his wings and shot into the air, flying off to who-knows-where.

They walked for a distance until Sam stopped them. "We're far enough away now. Let's get it over with."

Castiel helped unwrap the wings, reminding himself that his feelings were in the box and that this didn't upset him and that everything was fine. At least it would be over soon.

The yellow wings were laid out on a large patch of dirt, and Castiel flashed back to when they found the white wing in a shadow box in the hidden library room. He'd seen a dozens of color combinations, but no white.

The yellow was also red and brown and black, and soon they would be nothing but ash. The four stepped back and Dean lit a match. After a tense moment, he tossed it on the wings and they ignited.

The fire immediately flared up, which told Castiel that this was indeed magic happening. They burned so quickly it looked like they were melting, and in only a few moments, the ashen pile appeared.

A sudden wind picked up, scattering the ashes over the dirt. They glowed a vibrant orange before sinking into the ground, leaving nothing left.

This time, Castiel was ready for the blackness to overtake him.

He and Dean stood in a dark room, able to see each other but not the scenery around them. This dream was strange. It was vivid, and he heard a voice. It sounded like a whipping wind, and Castiel could just make out a faint, "Bleed for me, Winchester."

"Cas?" Dean called, fear in his voice, "What-" And then he began to scream.

Castiel watched, frozen in horror, as Dean's clothes were torn to shreds, golden blood soaking them through immediately. His skin was cut like ribbons, and the color flooded out of his face. "Cas," he whispered before collapsing.

"No!" Castiel found his voice and ran over to Dean, cradling his head in his hands. "No!" There was no pulse, and the puddle of blood looked more like a pond.

Castiel couldn't help the tears. He cried, and where his tears fell, small flames erupted. At once, the blood burned, and it took Dean with it. Then there was rain, and Dean's body disappeared. Castiel was clutching at the ground, crying, when he noticed that the ground was grass, and the grass was green, and there was sunshine and flowers everywhere.

But Dean was dead.

Someone was screaming. Castiel's vision swam, and he realized that he was the one screaming, and the real world was coming back to them.

"Cassie!" Gabe was shaking him. "Cassie stop! Wake up!"

He sat bolt upright and whirled around, disoriented. He saw Dean, already sitting up with his face in his hands. Sam was next to him with tears in his eyes.

"No," Castiel whispered again, voice hoarse.

"Yes," Dean said. He looked up at Castiel, resignation painted all over his face. "The last trial… I have to die."