Author's Note: Well guys, I've been planning this and the next chapter since the beginning, and I'm so excited to see what you guys think of them! Don't be shy! Review and make my day!

Corgimom: Thank you so so SO much for being my first official review! I'm so glad that you're liking the story so far! I hope this chapter is no different!

Castiel was calm in the face of Bobby's perplexed expression and Sam's contrite one.

"Wanna tell me what's going on here?"

"Not particularly, but I know that Dean cares about you, so I'll explain."

Castiel went through the process of regaling the past few weeks to him. Bobby looked surprised at a few parts but was otherwise stoic. Considering everything he'd faced in his life, that was unsurprising. When he was done, he stood silently, waiting for a reply.

"Is he happy?" Asked Bobby.

Castiel nodded. "More than I've ever seen him."

"Then I'm happy for him." He paused. "And you."

Castiel looked surprised. "Thank you."

Bobby nodded. Sam seemed to relax after that. The three of them talked with one another until someone started banging desperately on the cabin door.

"Let me in, let me in, let me in!" Cried a girl.

Sam opened the door and she ran inside.

"Please help me! Something's after me! I was camping out on the mountain with my fiancé, but he disappeared. I thought I heard him calling me, so I went out to look for him, and something tried to grab me. I managed to cut it and I guess it got scared and left. I barely got away... Can you help me?"

Bobby came up to Sam and nodded. "We can. Come in."

Bobby and Sam comforted the girl before deciding to take her back to her camp. Gabriel, who had been watching the scene from afar was on the fence about going with them, but one thought pushed him over the edge: Sam was going and might need him. Sure, they hadn't gotten to spend any time together since the motel visit and maybe Sam wasn't as dependent as Dean was, but Gabriel saw Sam as his responsibility. He would never be able to forgive himself if he didn't do all he could to keep him safe. He checked to see if his brother would be okay, and Castiel reassured him that he'd be fine. So the three of them packed some supplies before heading out to hike down the mountain.

A full day went by with noting unusual happening. He hadn't heard from his brother or friends, but assumed that they were busy or that the cell phone connection was awful. Castiel went about his day normally, giving Dean another healing treatment before settling him down for a nap.

It was about two in the afternoon when he heard Dean let out a cry. A chill ran down his spine. Something was wrong. Terribly and horribly wrong. He flew to Dean's room as fast as he could to see another angel looming over his crib.

"Let him go!" He commanded, letting his blade fall into his grip. "Who are you?" Castiel demanded, Angel blade drawn.

The stranger lifted his head up, indicating he'd heard him, before turning around.

"Hello Castiel."

The man who stood before him was a white man in his thirties who was a bit on the thin side. His suit was black and tailored to fit, with a black silk tie that looked very expensive encircling his neck. His hair was Raven black and coiffed back with pomade. He carried with him a small scythe that was sized appropriately for his hand. His eyes were suspiciously calm.

"I won't ask you again." He warned. "Who are you?!"

"I am the one you seek!" He boomed. A stunned silence followed, and even Dean stopped his wailing for a moment before picking back up again. Castiel lowered his weapon slightly.

"You're..."

"Azrael. Pleasure to meet you. At least it would be if I were here under better circumstances."

"Why are you here?

"To finish what my two servants were too stupid to do: I'm going to kill you, Castiel."

"Why? What threat do I pose to you? I want nothing to do with the politics in heaven. I'm done with that part of my life. It doesn't matter to me anymore."

"You've been known to lead rebellions, Castiel. Which makes you a threat to my plan. I've gotten all the power I can from heaven. Now all there's left to do is to weed out any bad seeds. And you, Castiel, are as bad as they come. So bad, in fact, that I insisted on coming here myself so that I could deal with you personally. You should feel... What's the human word for that again? Flattered? Yes, that's it."

Castiel's eyes flashed as a new revelation struck him. "That girl was working for you so that you could get me alone."

Azrael smirked. "How quickly they catch on. Yes, that was the plan."

"You make me sick." Cas sneered. "If you want to kill me fine, but get away from him!"

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" He hissed angrily.

"Because that would take all the fun out of it. I like to play with my prey before I eat them. To see the fear and concern in your eyes for your son is delicious to me. It reminds me of why I love my job." That seemed to turn on a switch inside him. "Speaking of which, I think I ought to start doing my job." He clenched the scythe in his fist and it instantly grew into a full size version of itself. Castiel half expected him for Azrael to just go for his head, but he surprised him by leaning his staff against the wall and pulling out his own Angel blade. Castiel looked at him quizzically, and Azrael shrugged. "It's just for fun." He said.

Azrael tried to swipe him across the stomach, but Cas jumped back just in time. Castiel ducked as Azrael threw the knife at his head like a dart board, only to have it get stuck in the door. Castiel saw the chance to go offensive and took it, swinging the blade in a diagonal swiping motion. It didn't hit Azrael directly, but it did put a tear in his suit. It wasn't necessarily good, but it was a start. Azrael spun around, grabbed the blade, and narrowly dodged a stab to his side and then drove his own blade into Castiel's stomach- so deep that only the hilt was seen by the naked eye. Kicking the knife away, he punched him twice: once in the right eye, and a hook to the cheek before he was knocked down. Castiel expected to go in a flash of light and leave the world behind him, but nothing happened. So he stood protectively in front of Dean's crib and asked:

"Why aren't I dead?"

"Because I don't want you dead. Not yet."

"I don't understand..."

"What part of "archangel of death" is too complicated for you to understand? Death and his reapers take care of the human souls when they die. What do you think my job is? Same deal, only with our species. I control the when, where, and how. I'm the master of ceremonies, and I am, simply put, the master of your fate. The bottom line is that you don't die until I say so. I decide when you die- and that's why I love my job."

Castiel looked at him angrily. "You don't have to be ruled by fate. You can choose freedom." He said, echoing the words he's said to a friend a few years ago.

Azrael chuckled. "Is that what you tell yourself to rationalize the choices you've made? The lives you've destroyed? It's my duty to end lives, not yours. Just for that, We're going to take this nice and slow."

Azrael took the handle of the knife and twisted it, making Castiel cry out in agony. He slowly pulled it out, and waited for the other Angel to get up before doing anything else with the blade. He ran it down Castiel's cheek to his chin and then teased him by rubbing the blade against his neck- particularly the jugular vein. Then, with the swiftness of a cheetah, he slashed Castiel across the chest, watching as the blood began to come out. As Castiel looked into the eyes of his captor, he knew the end was coming for him, just not nearly as quickly as he would have hoped.