Angels Fall (A Supernatural Fanfiction) [[ON HOLD]]

Chapter 5: Fallen Waywards

3 weeks later
Castiel sat in the rain, red hood that Dean gave him upon his arrival at the bunker pulled over his head. His hands were in his pockets, as cold as ice. His teeth chattered and he was scared he was going to get sick. It's funny how a former angel of the lord could now get sick from a little bit of cold water. It didn't matter. All he knew was that he was cold, hungry, and alone.

Why had Dean kicked me out of the bunker? Am I that much of a burden?

Castiel couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Dean looked sad when he told him he couldn't stay. Like saying those three words seemed to hurt him physically. Maybe Sam told Dean to kick him out.

His tears got lost in the rain. He sat there, staring at the ground, thinking of ways to fix things between him and Dean. Their relationship was fractured and Castiel had no idea why.

He did contribute to casting the Angels out of heaven, but Metatron had tricked him. Anyways, Dean seemed too concerned about Castiel losing his grace to be angry at him. But if that wasn't the reason, what was it?

He had thought that maybe, possibly, being in the same room as Cupid could've triggered something inside of Dean. A switch of some sort that would tell him to act upon his feelings. Castiel had fallen in love with him whenever he was hiding from demons in hell, making his way back to the surface of the earth. It took months, but laying him down in his coffin, six feet under, brought him the greatest sense of accomplishment he had ever felt in his long angelic life. Bringing back a human that was so determined to make a difference in the world, who would sacrifice his life for a complete stranger without a blink of an eye, created the most profound bond there could ever be.

Even if it was one-sided.

Dean sat at the table in the main room of the bunker, drinking a beer and reading everything he could find on Angels and their grace. He never knew how important the grace inside an angel was for them. It's what made them Angels, after all. He wanted to find something, anything that could possibly help Cas get his grace back.

Ever since Cas came back into his life after the Angels fell--since he became human--Dean couldn't shake the feeling in his gut every time he thought about his friend out there, practically defenseless, with every single angel from heaven on his trail.

He thought he would read in the newspaper about his death. Trench coat wearing man missing winds up dead by odd stab wound in the heart. Dean shivered, shaking the thought away. He couldn't deal with this now.

He downed the rest of his beer and closed the book. He flung the glass across the room, and it exploded on the wall in a shatter of diamonds.

He grabbed a lamp and threw it to the ground, stomping it with his foot.

He took deep breathes and sat against the wall. He pulled his legs towards his chest and buried his head between his legs. I can't do this. He thought, tears on the brim of leaking out. I can't do this, Cas. It's killing me.

Sam heard a loud noise, like something breaking. He wrapped the towel around his waist and ran out of the bathroom. He grabbed an ax from the glass case on the wall in the hallway, walking carefully towards the sound, ax raised firmly in front of him.

He walked into the main room and found Dean on the ground. There was a broken lamp on the floor and Dean was surrounded by small shards of glass.

"Dean?" He said, putting the ax down on the table and walked towards his brother.
Dean lifted his head up. Sam crouched down next to him, careful to avoid the glass. His brother's face was red and he looked pained. Not physically pained, but emotionally pained.