Castiel hates giving reports. Honestly, Castiel hates every moment he's away from Dean. He's not sure what it is about the young boy, but there is something about him he is unnaturally drawn to. Even though he's only been with the Winchesters for two months, Castiel knows without a doubt he would fall from grace if Dean asked. In and of itself that statement is huge. All he knows is Heaven, all he has ever needed was his brothers and sisters. Nothing else. But this tiny human, someone who, in the grand scheme of things, is insignificant in the story that was Castiel's existence, has somehow wormed his way in the angel's heart. Dean Winchester made him believe in the impossible. He has seen the truth of life and the capabilities of man. He knew exactly what the host of Heaven thought of mankind, And yet, given the choice he would turn his back on it all.

Turn away from the only family and him he has ever known, turn away from his power and his wings. The realization of this simple truth was frightening, yet somehow, at the same time it was strangely liberating. As if for the first time in forever he finally knew where he belonged.

This is the thought that keeps him going, this is the thought that carries him back to his charge. Every time he's gone away to Heaven, Cas brings back a sweet from another country, something for them to bond over. Today is no exception. Cas pops in front of the Winchester's house holding a box of bonbons. He looks up, but the house is nearly gone. The box clatters to the floor.

"Dean?! Dean!" he calls into the house, his heart aching when there is no reply. He runs into the wreckage, his heart breaking in ways he never knew were possible. He crashes from room to room, not caring about the damage that might be done to his tiny vessel. Finally he stops, chest heaving, tiny fists clenched. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, centering himself, and sends out his grace like feelers, touching each and every surface of the house hoping to find someone alive...if they were still alive at this point.

His heart gives a tiny heave when he realizes who died there. He always liked her, that Mary Winchester. She was so nice to him, so kind. She had invited him into her home with open arms despite her hate for all things supernatural. She trusted him with her children and her husband...and he failed her. He failed them all.

He can feel it when Zachariah appears next to him. His eyes are still closed when he poises his question. "Where are they?!" he demands. In this vessel Castiel can't do much to physically hurt Zachariah, but that doesn't stop him from giving the angel a good kick in the shins. He knows it has nothing but dramatic effect, but it still feels good. "Where is Dean?" He's shocked when Zachariah only laughs, pushing Castiel away.

"Oh Castiel, you poor innocent little angel. This has been planned since the beginning of time. Every single moment has been accounted for. Mary Winchester had to die," Zachariah says with a grin. It's all going to plan. It's unfortunate they couldn't include Castiel in the makings of it, but he was a liability, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode with emotion and-Zachariah shudders to think-humanity. He would have tried to stop them, tried to make them see it was wrong. But the angel wasn't capable of seeing the bigger picture. In the grand scheme of things, little humans like Mary Winchester didn't matter, and he couldn't wait to tell him that.

"You've done your job-what is it that tiny human calls you?...Cas?" he asks mockingly. "You've done your job Cas, leave the heavy lifting to the big boys now."

Castiel's borrowed face flashes with anger and hurt. "How could this be part of the plan, Zachariah? Since when did we sacrifice humans for the greater good?"

Zachariah was starting to get tired of this game; clearly they had misjudged Castiel as a simple "yes" man. "When have we not Castiel? Read the bible lately? Remember Jesus? All we emdo/em is sacrifice humanity for the greater good! And it's high time you learned that." Zachariah watches as the angel bends over and picks up a still smoldering teddy bear. It had been Dean's, but Sam had the habit of adopting things that weren't up for adoption. He put out the tiny flames with his fingers, letting the memories of the boys who loved this bear most flow through him. If Castiel was the crying sort, he wouldn't be surprised if a few tears fell from his vessel's eyes.

"So what do we do now?" He asks, voice breaking.

"We aren't doing anything, this is none of your concern now. Go back to Heaven where you belong."

"But Dean -" the angel begins.

"Is none of your concern, Castiel." Zachariah places a hand on his subordinate's shoulder in mock comfort. "Look, we'll keep them safe, don't worry about that. There are members of the host keeping a close eye on them as we speak." Castiel eyes Zachariah with contempt, but says nothing.

"We just had to get them to this point. From here on in, it'll be smooth sailing for John and the boys." Zachariah spends a few more minutes assuring the angel before firmly sending him on his way. He walks through the damage, not caring that he is treading on family photos, and beloved toys. When he gets to what he can only assume is the middle of the house (he really can't tell, given the charred remains), he smiles slightly at the destruction. What he didn't tell Cas was that it was only smooth sailing for about 5 seconds, and after that there would be beatings, starvation, alcoholism and heavy training. He didn't tell Cas that he would never see those boys again, not if Zachariah had anything to do with it. He didn't tell Cas that Sam would have to die, and that Dean would have to sell his very soul in order to save him.

As Zachariah blinks away, off to bark some orders at some poor unsuspecting soul, he thinks upon the last thing he didn't tell Cas: that he left a greater bullseye on the back of the eldest Winchester. Every supernatural being for miles would want to know what made him so special, an angel would risk everything for. No, that piece of information he would keep to himself for a while.

The day after the fire, Dean waits up all day and night for Castiel. He doesn't understand - Cas was his friend, his protector... didn't that mean protecting the ones Dean loved as well? Dean is angry, and his whole body shakes with rage. Castiel was supposed to be there. He was supposed to protect Dean's family. He thinks of all the stuff that had burned inside the house and frowns. Pictures, drawings, toys he and Cas played with are all burned now. He can't help but feel a little sad. Castiel didn't protect them when he was supposed to. Dean never wanted to see Cas again. He hopes that wherever the angel is, he never forgets the family he betrayed.

For the first time, Castiel hates being an angel. He hates having this responsibility, and this guilt. He's broken, he knows this. Angels weren't meant to feel anything, they were warriors of God and that was it. But now Cas feels like he is more than that. More than the cookie cutter 'Angel of the Lord' status he lives with. This fact breaks him. How can he go back to being one of many when he knows what its like to be special? To be wanted and adored. To have someone need you, not just because you were useful to them, but because you mattered. He needs to be alone so he goes to his favorite spot in Heaven and just sits there, staring up at the sky. He misses Dean. He aches to be with him, to comfort him, to apologize for not being there to protect Mary. He had failed them in more ways than one. If Angels could cry, Castiel has no doubt that he would be sobbing right now. He doesn't understand how he's just supposed to stop caring about the Winchester family, doesn't understand why they are not of Heaven's concern anymore. For the first time, he feels that Heaven is corrupt. Something his Father should have never allowed. He will watch Dean, from afar, no matter what Zachariah says, even if being so close yet so far away breaks him even more.

10 Years Later

Yellow Eyes isn't one to keep promises, but the one he made to Mary, the one where he told her he would hunt her kids down to the ends of the Earth, that was a promise he would keep wholeheartedly. But the word "hunt" implied that he put any real effort into the search. Finding the Winchesters is as easy as breathing in air, and it helps that he has the new member of his gang, Ruby following them around like the good little lap dog she was.

Every so often he pays the boys a visit: sometimes as their teacher, or the random guy walking his dog. One time he decides to have a little fun and possess dear old daddy, not that he was sober enough to care...or notice. And at the end of the day, he sneaks into whatever hellhole they call home for the week and slip Sammy some demon juice. He's in and out before anyone could dream of noticing and the next day, he has Ruby fill his young, malleable head with lies and rage.

That kid is a good enough actor he could fool the devil himself. He pretends to be calm and collected, he pretends to be normal and carefree, but if you look hard enough, you could sense something was off about him. There was something boiling beneath the surface, and it is his job (and Ruby's) to feed that flame.

Today he has something special planned. Today he is going to push Sam to the limits, and enjoy every step of the way. This time, John Winchester dragged his boys to God-knows-where, Minnesota. Sammy is just beginning to realize just how different he is. He spends hours scrubbing his hands or cleaning himself up as if he is trying to rid himself of something.

"That's the demon blood, singing through your veins, Sammy!" Yellow Eyes would say happily every time he happened to catch Sam in the act. "It's that itch you just can't scratch, and it's never going away."

He was sick of playing it safe with this kid, watching everything boil underneath the surface. It was time to flip the switch, time to unleash the monster that was Samuel Winchester. He may have to resort to juvenile human tricks to do it, but the end result would be just as sweet.

This time he was taking over the body of the local bully, Joshua Winslow, an obnoxious little boy with bad teeth and a temper to boot. From the moment they met each other, Joshua and Sam were at odds, so it wouldn't take much for Sam to completely lose his head.

It was recess, the other kids were laughing and playing and generally carrying on, but Sam wasn't. He was sitting on the swings, not making eye contact with anyone, just staring at his unlaced shoes as if they would magically tie themselves. Yellow Eyes walked up to the boy, getting into his personal space.

The Winchester boy didn't even bother to look up, he just sighed, as though the mere acknowledgement of the other boy was too much effort. "What do you want, Josh?"

"Nothing, Winchester, can't I just come over to say hi?" Yellow Eyes sat in the swing next to him. "You know, it must be hard being such a freak." Sam's eyes snapped up, narrowing at the words.

"I'm not a-"

"It's okay Sam, it's not like you had a choice. I mean, look at your freaky family. Your drunk of a dad, your idiot of an older brother...even your mother..." His voice trailed off. He was starting to strike a chord. Sam's knuckles were whitening as they clenched harder on the chains of the swings.

"You don't know anything-"

"How does it feel knowing that you killed her?" Yellow Eyes continued. The look of fear and shock flashed through Sam's eyes as he tried to figure out how he could have possibly known that. "Yup, Sammy boy, I know. I know how your stupid mother died in your nursery, I know that she burned to a crisp on the ceiling. Do you think it hurt, Sammy, do you think she cried as she burned, stuck to the ceiling, unable to move, to scream? I think it must have been so very painful."

Sam stood up, hands shaking, eyes wild. Those big hazel eyes, so innocent, couldn't help but to flash with fury. Yellow Eyes wouldn't be surprised if this wasn't the first time Sam was blamed for his mother's death. Even though John was well aware that all his baby boy could do was sit and watch, alcohol sometimes made you think irrational things.

"That's it Sammy," Yellow Eyes was now worming his way into the boy's mind, calling him to action, taking him over the point of no return. "That's it. Get angry, get mad. Show this fat piece of lard what a true freak is capable of."

"Do you think she'd ever forgive you," He continued, picking up momentum. "Do you think she'd be proud? Her bouncing baby boy became a freak! An abomination, unclean...do you think she'd even still love you?" Tears were now flowing heavily from the Sam's face, the demon was messing with the kid's mind and he knew it, now he just needed to get the boy violent.

"Shut up Josh!" Sam screams. "You don't...you have know idea what you're talking about!"

"Come on Sammy!" Yellow Eyes whispers into his mind. "Hit him, get angry, you freak, you nothing. Your mother left you Sam, your dad doesn't care. You think they love you? Do you really think they understand?"

Sam's hands flew to his head, shaking it, trying to get the voices to go away. "Stop it!" He cried. "Leave me alone...please just leave me alone."

"Sorry kiddo,"Yellow Eyes says. "Not today."

"You don't think anyone else can tell, Sam?" Joshua screams at him. "That there is something wrong with you? That you aren't like the rest of us? Stop kidding yourself Sam, stop pretending like you have it all together, we both know you don't, we both know what you are truly capable of."

Sam couldn't take much more of the taunts, Yellow Eyes could see that. He was at his breaking point, at the mercy of the demon's words.

"Come on Sam do it! Hurt him like he hurt you, do it!"

"No! Stop. I won't...I won't hurt him!"

"Do it Sam!"

"No! Just leave, please God just leave me alone."

"Do it"

"No!"

"Do it!" In a fit of rage Sam throws himself at the boy, punching any exposed part with his fists, over and over again. There was no stopping him. He was screaming nonsensical words of pain and anguish, anything the block out the voices in his head.

Yellow Eyes makes a quick exit out of the Joshua boy, and watches from a safe distance as it takes three fairly large teachers to pry Sam from his recently vacated vessel. From what he could see, Sam nearly beat the boy to death. It would take a lot of hospitalization and a few good therapists to return the boy back to normal, but that wasn't the point.

The point was that Sam gave in to the instinct. The change from human to slightly less was well on its course and there was no going back. Yellow Eyes watches as John picks up his normally docile younger child, he watches as they pack up and skip town never to be heard from in this part of Missouri again. He watches as Sam looks into the motel bathroom mirror, clearly disgusted with what he sees. He watches as Sam then proceeds to punch said mirror until his tiny fist was unrecognizable. He watches as Sam prays over and over again to God begging to be saved, begging to be normal.

As the boy slowly falls asleep, Yellow Eyes feels that it is his duty to impart some wisdom onto the boy.

"Oh Sam," he whispers into the boy's mind. "Even God can't save you now."

A great big thank you to our wonderful betas Grace, Megan and Alaamsi. You guys rock!