His Fallen Grace

Chapter One

It was beautiful.

Large, brilliantly glowing blips of light rocketing across the sky--thousands upon thousands of them.

Couples sat and admired the sight, making wishes.

Children watched the sky with excitement, calling their parents out so they may experience the event as well.

It's was breathtaking.

A marvel.

Sadly, it was not as it seemed. Those who were caused amusement by it, were blissfully unaware, under the impression that what where falling were only mere stars. They were mistaken. Had they known, had they had the tiniest idea, this miraculous night wouldn't have been joyous in the slightest.

But there they were, left in awe, blinded by the unknown. Some, however knew better. A handful. One lay in an empty field, the other two slumped against the side of a '67 Chevrolet Impala, and the other bound and cuffed to a chair in an abandoned barn. They knew what the other's didn't, and at that moment I bet they would've wish they could've been as blissfully unaware as everyone else.

They knew what was falling--what it'd bring. What fell was anything but good news. What fell was angels-locked out of Heaven by no other but one of their own, blind with revenge.

The one in the field awoke with blurry vision and an unbearable headache. He felt drained and powerless. His vision focused on the sky. Something which to others may have been a moment of breathless beauty, was to him a moment of breathless terror.

He heaved himself upright, ignoring the pleas of his aching body, getting to his feet and running to a clearing, watching the sky all the while. His head was filled with screams, that of women and men's. His blue eyes filled with disbelief. He was tricked. He was the cause. He had broken Heaven. He watched as thousands fell, one's he'd called brother and sister. Once again, Castiel was the cause. He'd done it again. He'd messed it up.

"Come on, Sammy." Dean draped the arm of his broken brother around his shoulder, watching the same sky as Castiel, and the blissfully unaware. He helped Sam into the leather passenger seat and hastily made his way around the other side of the car, popping open the door and starting it up. The one bound and cuffed shouted with whatever strength he had left as he heard the engine rev. "What...!? You gonna leave me here!?"

"Can it, Crowley. We're going on a little joy ride." Dean cut the demon's bounds, seizing his arm, and yanking him in tow. Crowley muffled many a curse words as the older Winchester gagged him, shoving him towards the trunk. As to be expected, there was no cooperation on his part.

"Be a big boy next time Crowley, and get in the friggin' trunk yourself," huffed Dean as he slammed the trunk closed, sinking into the leather seat of the Impala. He cast Sam a look. Eyes closed, he leaned on the door, looking pretty crappy.

"Sam. Hey-Sammy."

He snapped his finger next to his ear, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Sam? Damn it."

He slammed a fist against the steering wheel, casting an unconscious Sam another look before pulling into reverse.

Castiel had walked for what seemed to be countless upon countless miles. He dragged his feet, the weight of not only his afflicted injuries, but his actions heavy on him. His stomach was rumbling and making odd noises, his mouth dry. His legs were weak, and his body sore from the fall. Altogether, I guess you could say Castiel felt like Hell-and he didn't look much better than he felt, either.

Soon, everything was spiraling. He hit the ground hard, the air knocked from his lungs upon impact. Everything hurt. His old wounds opened, spilling fresh blood from his body. Castiel was dying-but, he thought, perhaps it was for the best.

"Dean--!"

Sam shouted for his brother as he jolted upright, plastered in sweat and panting for air. Ears ringing, he tossed the blankets from himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Dean!!"

"Sam?!"

Dean rushed in, grasping his sibling by the shoulders. "Sam, what the hell...?"

The younger Winchester brushed his brother hands aside, getting to his feet.

"Whoa there, pal-!"

Dean pulled him close as he began to teeter, holding him upright.

"Sammy, you need to lay down."

"Dean, no-Listen--!"

His intensifying headache made him cringe, and he clang to Dean as he sat him down.

"Now, I'm gonna get you some aspirin, and you're gonna get some res-"

"No, Dean! It's Cas--!"

Dean's green orbs widened, and he said under his breath.

"... Cas?"

He shook Sam slightly, grasping his face between his hands.

"Sam, what about Cas!?"

"Dean-He's in trouble--!"

"Sammy? Sam! What kind of trouble!? C'mon Sam--stay with me!!"

"Dean, we gotta go-"

"Whoa, tiger. I don't think so."

"Dean, what--?"

"You're not going anywhere, Sam."

"Dean-"

"Sam, no. I'll have Kevin look after you, I'm going it alone. Tell me where he's at."

He raced the Impala down the empty stretch of road, palms sweating. Sam, and now Cas?--"Son of a--!" The Impala came to a shrieking stop as Dean slammed on the brakes. He kicked the door open, jumping out and running to the front of the hood, squinting past the head lights.

"Damn it-Cas?!"