Chapter Text
Silence.
It crept along every inch of the grungy warehouse. Eyes darting across the battered wall that despite its recent appearance fell in tune with the rest. Eyelashes fluttering over to the window which was no better for wear, light hardly flowing in from the streetlight just outside. Out of focus now, dust and traces of other molecules come into view through the dark, stormy blue eyes of Castiel. Time has slowed. Questioning whether its remnants of his grace or if somehow time has really stopped, he snaps back to the now and sees Dean, his Dean, snarling at a bloodied Sam who sits with one leg outstreched in front of him and the other awkwardly under that one. Castiel has never seen Sam look so defeated and hurt, now understanding the phrase 'a kicked puppy'.
Without much guidance from Castiel, his vessel, his body now that Jimmy is long gone, stands up and that's when all the pain hits him at once. His bottom lip stings and a tongue darts out to soothe it and on its return brings back a taste of metal. Getting to his feet, after what feels like an eternity which again makes him question if time really is having bouts of stopping and moving, is a small victory after such a heated battle that is hardly over. Castiel's feet start moving. His ankle aching and pleading to not have any pressure put on it. He is determined. He turns his gaze upon Dean, or a Dean since recognition of this one would be falsehood, who is scowling and holding the Blade with fury. Castiel stumbles and loses balance. A whimper escapes his lips. He looks again to Dean and regains his momentum. He must stop this.
"Dean", Castiel shouts.
He takes one step closer as Dean takes one closer to Sam. His heartbeat speeding up.
"Dean", He tries again.
Nothing but a blur of movement as Dean steams towards a now unconcious Sam, Castiel finds himself now lunging forward and grabbing Dean's shoulder. That stops the forward motion. Dean stands resolute as if waiting for a command. Castiel takes that opportunity to step in front and place himself between Dean and Sam.
"Dean, please. This isn't you" Castiel says and squeezes his shoulder.
"This has always been me", Dean grits out.
Dean looks down to his side and locks eyes with the tip of his Blade and Castiel follows the movement. His eyes wide now with fear, his voice a whisper.
"Please, Dean" Castiel continues to plead, "Everything is as it should be. It's over now. But We need you."
He turns to Sam's helpless body as if to punctuate his statement. It gets no emotion out of Dean. His eyes dart back down again to the Blade that Dean clutches so firmly in his hand, the mark glowing now as rage courses through him.
"Dean,- " Castiel is cut off by the growling voice in front of him.
"No one needs me. No one cares about me. I'm poison. I corrupt. But now, I have something that gives me control, power. I've got something that needs me like I need it," Dean barks out.
Castiel can hear the anger, the pain and it breaks him. The man in front of him no longer sees logic. If this Mark has taken away his Dean then it has taken everything from him. His memory now replays every image of their existence together. One jumps out at him and it fills him with hope, with an anchor in this treacherous sea. The words repeating in his head, " I'd rather have you, cursed or not."
"I'd rather have you, cursed or not" he mumbles to himself.
He chances a glance at this man in front of him, this beautiful hunter that never gave up on him despite every reason saying he should. In his peripheral view, the Blade is inching closer to him. Dean's eyes, which are normally magically green with specks of gold, are glazed over yet focused.
"I'd rather have you, cursed or not" he mumbles again to himself. A mantra, a chant.
The lip numbed, the ankle no longer a bother, the warehouse and Sam now a distant memory to Castiel. His eyes now boring holes into Dean.
"Dean, " Castiel says commanding the floor, " I need you. I've always needed you."
A glint of something passes through the eyes of the hunter. Its gone before Castiel can recognize it. The Blade still moving to him. Sinking in.
"I- I love you, Dean Winchester" Castiel gasps. Logic be damned.
Silence.
Blackness.
Ringing.
Clattering.
The things that register through Castiel's mind as his eyes flutter open. He looks down and sees the Blade. The tip covered in blood. He takes a deep breath, and calms himself. He grabs his side. He's bleeding. His mind now catching up to the pain. He feels the dizziness swooping in and his body crumbling down. On his back, he can feel pressure being applied and a voice that rivals the Heavenly Host.
" Cas," his dean sounding hoarse and afraid.
"Cas, I- I'm sorry."
That's the last thing that Castiel remembers before the blackness consumes him.