Dean couldn't tear himself away from the bed, pinned by an invisible force emanating from the shade of Castiel. Castiel stalked around the bed, voice dripping with venom. "You're a failure, Winchester. Everyone you love is gone. You've either killed them, left them, or pushed them away." With that, the curling black tendrils of smoke roiling off the shade expanded and crept toward Dean, voluminous, taking the shape of huge wings, filling the room and flashing with electrical discharges.
Dean fought back tears and tried to block out the thrum of the cloud and Castiel's taunts. Castiel climbed on top of Dean, straddling him, running his strong, probing fingers along the contours of his abdomen, across his chest, and up the sides of his neck. He ran his fingers through Dean's golden brown hair and pulled, hard, causing Dean to hiss as Castiel lifted his head up towards him.
"Did you really think he could ever love you?" Castiel laughed cruelly. "Even if you were anything more that a wreck of a human, he's an ANGEL." Castiel's face twisted into a wicked smile, black eyes wide, as he continued, "He's on a whole other plane, Dean. Literally. He doesn't care for you. He doesn't know HOW to care for you. You don't deserve him, and you know it." With that, Castiel leaned in and pressed his lips against Dean's with bruising intensity, and then left a fevered trail of kisses along his jawline and up to his ear. Dean felt wave after wave of guilt and sorrow crash into him as Castiel whispered, "I'm the closest you'll ever get to your angel, and even that is more than you deserve. He left you here, alone."
He's not coming, is he? Dean despaired. The shade began to grind his hips into Dean, gripping his hair with inhuman strength. The dark clouds now surrounded them completely, electricity discharging and arching into Dean, tracing along his limbs like a violet wand, contracting his muscles painfully.
"I'm glad you're finally coming to your senses, love," cooed the shade, letting Dean's head drop back onto the bed. "You don't need him. I can be everything you need," he winked with a sneer. "We can stay here together. I'll even let you up, if you promise to be a good boy."
Dean's eyes stung with tears as he tried to blink away the ever deepening darkness. As they ran down his face, Castiel's look transformed into one of wantonness. The shade dove forward and slid his tongue up the side of Dean's cheek, savoring the salty evidence of Dean's abject despondency.
"Oh-okay," Dean whispered, nodding weakly. "I'll… I'll be good."
"Tell me you're worthless," the shade commanded."Tell me the world is better off without Dean Winchester."
Dean tried to reply, but choked on his words. He couldn't believe Castiel, HIS Castiel, had left him here alone. Something must be wrong, he must be in trouble.
The shade started to cackle, his husky voice becoming shrill and grating. "Oh, my poor, wretched Dean! If the angel is in trouble, YOU are the one causing it! This is your head, remember?"
Suddenly, Dean heard a booming voice, cutting through the darkness, through the storm, through the cruel taunting of the shade. It was low, angry, and righteous. Dean felt it reverberating in his guts, and the sheer power of it seemed to shrink back the darkness just enough for Dean to take a gasping, hopeful breath.
"DO NOT QUESTION MY LOVE FOR DEAN WINCHESTER."