What. The. Fuck. That's the first thought that rebounded through his mind when he first opened his eyes. As soon as he woke up he had to almost work to stay in his body, which didn't make sense at all. He felt... well, he didn't know how he felt. Different for one thing. "Felt" wasn't even really the right word, anyway. He just was. He quickly contemplated whether or not he was dead. He discarded that theory, he'd been in heaven, hell, he'd even been a spirit before, and he never experienced this. His body didn't seem like his own. Like his soul was bursting at the seams of his body and his fragile flesh and bones could rip apart at any minute, almost like he didn't fit. His mind alone seemed endless, capable of contemplating everything from Newton's Theory of Relativity to Quantum Physics, all at the same time.

It took about four seconds for his mind to work through it. He was an angel.

Once he thought it, he realized that it was obvious, that there was no other remotely possible explanation. He should have realized it sooner, with the enormous weight settled upon his shoulders. But it's not like the weight was a physical one, he didn't think there was anything that his body couldn't shoulder in it's current state, but more like a heavy figment produced by his mind that felt more like him than his body did. He glanced back to confirm, to take in the feathery forms that he'd never laid eyes on before. His eyes hadn't seen them, but they evoked a sort of familiarity that puzzled him. The real mystery, of course, though, was how exactly he was put in this state.

Beyond that, there was an insane amount of noise coming from every direction; voices, banging, car horns, birds chirping...

"Would you shut up a minute? Jesus," he said to Sam, hoping to silence some of excessive noise, hoping to be able to focus on something other than the ringing in his ears. He forced his thoughts to center on the present, the room in front of him. That's when the body on the floor flooded his vision, the vibrant blood that surrounded it stuck out and caught his eye, keeping him from glancing away. The realization wasn't slow and he still felt the guilt settle into his chest as he finally processed who was on the floor, completely still. He knew he was dead without having to check for a pulse. Still, before he'd even made a conscious decision to do so, his body had moved to kneel over Castiel and he searched his brain for something, anything he could do to take back his death, while his eyes raked over him, taking in every detail. "What the fuck happened, Sammy?" He had to tear his eyes away from Cas to search Sam's face for an explanation. What the hell could have happened while he was unconscious? Who did it? And where the fuck were they? He'd make sure they didn't get very far. That could wait of course, how could he leave Cas like this on the floor? How could he accept that his angel was now as cold as the ground he collapsed upon. "What can I do?" He bent towards Cas again, supported his head and touched his cheek, so far from worrying about whether or not Sam noticed. The noise swelled up again in his ears as his helplessness and anger mounted, almost painful from the sheer volume.

He took his hand from behind Cas' neck to rub his forehead, kneading his temples. "Sammy! Shut up and help me!" he yelled once more, moving his hand from Cas' cheek to put pressure on the wound, trying anything, trying to stop the blood flow that he knew was no longer flowing. The lack of life didn't stop the words from bubbling up in his mouth, "God, don't let him die now. Don't let him fucking die."

"Dean, I'm not saying anything," Sam finally used his voice. Dean saw him kneel down on the other side of Cas from his peripheral vision.

Dean found himself praying, his thoughts an endless string of begging and groveling, promising anything he could think of to anyone who would listen. As the hot tears rolled down his cheeks, a thought occurred to him and he held on, pinning his every hope to it. He moved his hand, pushing it a little harder to Cas' chest, and focused what he could only describe as a current running through him on where his hand touched his chest. He watched in amazement as the vibrant blood found its way back into Cas' body, while the wound underneath his hand closed. Dean glanced at Sam to see his reaction before the life now present in the body before him grabbed his attention. Cas' hands moved to clutch his chest, and Dean wiped his face, rubbing the salty tears onto his jeans as he stood up, relief flooding to his core.

He moved behind Castiel, putting his hands under his arms to pull him up until he was sitting. He reveled in the sound of his pulse, present and strong, aching to wrap the man in his arms and let everything sink in. He resisted, stilling himself instead by supporting Cas' back against his legs.

He waited for as long as he could, letting Cas catch his breath, "What the hell just happened, Cas?" He was silent for a moment before he answered him, "I had to figure out a way to sever the connection between Naomi and myself. Guess it worked," the man actually chuckled to himself before sobering up and leaning back against Dean and turning his face up to look at him, "but more importantly, how does it feel to be a celestial being?"

"You're an angel of the Lord, Dean," Cas repeated when no one broke the silence. He climbed to his feet on shaky legs with Dean's help and turned around to face him.

Dean wasn't surprised, obviously, but the words being spoken out loud made the... the power radiating through him swell up in response. He looked at Sam to see his astonishment, and Sam shrugged with a what-the-hell look on his face. Dean offered a shrug.

"Are you telling us that you... found a way to make Dean an angel?" Sam asked incredulously for them both.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Cas answered, throwing a quick glance Sam's way. "But before I explain," Cas began; he took a step to bring himself closer to Dean, placing a hand on his shoulder. When Cas touched him, intense warmth and a shock not unlike static electricity passed through his muscle and he flinched at the unexpected feeling. Cas' eyes darkened a little, seeing his reaction, and he removed his arm to let it hand once again at his side. Dean wanted to explain himself but he sensed now was not the time. Cas finished his thought: "I can't tell you how sorry I am. I tried, I really did. I- I wasn't strong enough to keep them from hurting you. And I wasn't sure if you were still alive, I should have thought of something else, put my grace somewhere else. I would've asked permission if I could. We'll find a way to undo it, we could contact an angel-" Cas had begun to ramble, a little hysterically at that, so Dean cut him off:

"Cas. What else were you supposed to do? I'm sure you did what was best." He'd been following Cas' fast ramblings as best he could, worked through what he knew, and he was confident that did the best that he could. "And clearly you were strong enough to stop them, whoever 'them' is."

"But strong enough to do what exactly?" Sam inquired. "What did you do?"

Cas backed up to sit on the bed, shoulder's slumped. "Well, I now know where I was during my brief sabbatical, for one thing. I don't have very much conscious memory of what happened, but an angel named Naomi... messed with my hardware, as you two might say." He bowed his head to look at the comforter of the bed and started fiddling with a loose thread. "Whatever she did, relinquished full control of my body, resulting in the recent turn of events." He made eye contact with each Winchester before returning his gaze to the bed again. "It occurred to me that if I didn't do something drastic, Dean would die," he frowned deeply, " and I simply couldn't let that happen." He looked up at Dean again, and something in his eyes made a very human longing rumble through Dean's chest. Dean desperately wanted to know if the angel had been able to hear his words while he was being controlled, but Sam's was very present next to him and he wasn't sure if he could ask anyway. Cas was still speaking, "It was innately painful to do so, but I ripped out my grace to break the connection she had on me."

"And you thought the best place for it would be in Dean?" Sam followed.

"I was fairly certain Dean would survive the process. And I couldn't leave it lying around for Naomi to get her hands on it after it killed me."

"Wait a minute, Cas. Hold up. Are you human? You knew I would heal you, right?" Dean prodded. He was already angry at the thought of Cas killing himself for his own sake.

"Yes, I knew it would kill me. I am human. And the thought hadn't occurred to me," Castiel talked slowly to ensure the information was absorbed.

"So you thought you'd simply sacrifice yourself for me? You think I would be okay with that?" Dean was seething now, yelling.

"You may want to learn to control your anger, Dean. You've got a lot of power and you'll need to maintain control of it," Cas warned, ignoring his questions.

"Slow down, now," Sam said. "Let me see if I've got this straight. Dean is an angel, you are not an angel, and Dean just healed you..."

"That is correct."

"Well how come the angel, this Naomi, didn't just have control of Dean if she was tied to your grace?" Dean hadn't even thought of that, and he tried to search his mind for any impending hostile takeover.

"Dean's been human all his life. Angel's don't have free will in the same sense as angels. Your free will is what defines you. Obviously she's not going to be able to overcome that," Castiel explained,still pulling on the loose thread.

"So, you gonna tell me how to turn off the voices?" Dean asked, pointing to his temple. They made it difficult to focus on what everyone was saying.

"You'll learn to ignore them," Cas promised, "but you know you don't have to go along with this, right Dean?"

Dean still had a bit of heat sitting in his chest, so his words came out through his teeth though he was trying to stay calm: "What do you mean, Castiel," the consonants sharp and the vowels quiet.

Dean's tone had Cas rushing to explain, "Like I said before, we'll figure it out. I don't expect you to live with my mistake. I realize how unprecedented this must be for you, how uncomfortable. We'll find an angel to help us, to remove the grace, to keep Naomi from doing this in the future." His eyes were off his hands, at last, moving back and forth across Dean's features, taking in his every expression.

The earnestness in Cas' face and voice was enough to cool him down, and Dean shifted from angry to comforting, "Hey, don't worry so much, Cas. We've got time. We'll figure it out." He grabbed his shoulder, kneading the tense muscle a little. Cas' eyes grew a little wide from the contact, he stared at Dean's hand. Suddenly uncomfortable, Dean pulled it back, rejection overtaking him.

AUTHOR's NOTE

Sorry it took so long, I must've rewritten this section five times. Anyway, let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!