The Shield One Shots Book 2!

Guardian Angel Pt22/Ambreigns

 Dean stood staring out of the bedroom window silently, he was completely drained emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually. His chest didn't hurt like it did, it was now just that constant, dull ache that reminded him that his loved ones...that Roman was still alive. After his breakdown, he had sat on the floor for a while staring at the wall remembering happier times with his family. He had no idea how long he had been sitting there lost in his memories, but eventually, he stood up and went to the window. He knew Micah's death wasn't his fault, he didn't kill him and he sure as hell didn't want him to put himself in danger, he had tried to stop him, but failed. He sighed, as he ran his hands over his face, his guilt ran deep, and no matter what the others said or did it just wouldn't go away. Yeah, he wasn't stupid, he knew that all of this was Cecil's fault, this was his twisted, pathetic crusade for ultimate power. He also knew though that he had had his part in the psycho's scheme, if it hadn't been for Dean trusting that bastard when everyone; both in Heaven and his family on Earth, had warned him not to, then none of this would have happened. 

 "You really need to stop blaming yourself, brother." Xavier said gently.

 "You're back, what happened? Why aren't you with the others?" Dean asked worried, as he turned to look at him.

 "Everything is still the same, brother, I just came to check on you."

 "So, what you really mean to say is that you came back to give me the same self-love bullshit lecture you and everyone freaking else has already given me a hundred times before." Dean replied annoyed, as he sat down on the bed.

 "Dean, it's not..." Xavier began, but trailed off thinking of a better word than the one his brother had used.

 "Bullshit?" Dean suggested bitterly staring at the floor.

 "It's not that, to forgive yourself for things you had no control over isn't a bad thing. You can't blame yourself for..."

 "The hell I can't!" Dean yelled angrily, cutting Xavier off. "Yeah, I know Cecil had been planning this long before I got here, but I trusted that bastard, I...I let him take my damn grace because I was too damn afraid of being without Roman and Seth." He added, as he stood up and began pacing. "I was so blinded by my selfishness that I ignored what everyone tried telling me, I ignored all of the obvious warning damn signs and I chose to listen and followed him blindly. So, tell me, Xavier, how excatly isn't any of this not my damn fault?"

 "There's nothing you can change about that, brother." Xavier reminded him firmly. "Blaming yourself, getting stuck on the what-ifs and maybes is exactly what Cecil wants, Dean. He wants you so distracted that you can't focus on stopping him."

 Dean stopped pacing and looked at him, he knew he was right, this was what that bastard wanted. He sighed frustrated, as he tried to force himself to calm down and do what Xavier told him to do.

 "Look, Dean, I understand how you feel, I do, but you need to put all of your energy and anger into stopping Cecil, instead of blaming yourself." Xavier said gently.

 "Easier said than done, Xavier, but...you're right." Dean said sighing.

 "Come on, if you're feeling better let's go back to the others and help find our traitorous brother." Xavier replied smiling sadly.

**Meanwhile**:

 Cecil sat in a chair silently watching his two captives, since his fun with them earlier, he had left and done a little recon, before he paid a visit to his brother. He was beyond happy to know that his plan was going exactly like he wanted, Dean was broken. His plan wouldn't be totally complete until not only was Dean completely destroyed, but he was also the most powerful Angel there ever was. He'd wait for the right moment to start stealing grace again, wait for the heat to die down; he was narcissistic, not stupid. He took out his spellbook and began looking through it for anything he could use to get more grace without having to actually engage in any physical combat; he wasn't weak, but he didn't like to get his hands dirty if he didn't have to.