His Fallen Grace

Chapter Seven

***Just a heads up, this chapter has quite a lot of language and is semi-strong***

It'd been but a few weeks since the Winchesters took Castiel in. With every day he got better, well.

Physically.

Cas couldn't get over what he'd done. Every day, along with getting better, came becoming more human. Opposed to angels, humans felt. They felt sorrow. They felt regret. They felt pain. They had emotion. That's what made them human. Even as an angel, Castiel had begun to experience emotion. Loyalty, hesitation, anger, fear. Emotion is what lead him to rebel.

If you asked him, Dean would recall the time when Castiel said if he returned to Heaven, seen the damage he'd done, that he was afraid he might kill himself. Many of his kind despised him, and had been, no doubt, attempting to hunt him down since the night all of Heaven fell. It wasn't the first time Castiel had been branded a traitor and targeted by his brethren, but this time was worst above all.

Dean wasn't even quite sure what Cas did with half his time besides sit at the window in a little wooden chair, gazing out. That was pretty much it. Just, gazing out. Scarcely ate, and for all they knew, got a minimum of three hours of sleep a night. He was in rough shape, and Dean hated it. Hated the way he just sat there. Hated the way he just moped. Hated the way he just ignored him and Sam like they didn't even exist. Frankly, Dean had had enough.

"Cas?"

No reply.

"Cas."

Sam nudge his brother's arm with his elbow, before he sat down and opened his lap top, setting his beer on the table.

"Dean," he droned, sighing with the slight shaking of his head. "He's not going to answer. You're wasting your breath."

"You don't know that."

"Whatever. I'm just saying. He hasn't said a word for weeks, what makes you think he'll start now?"

"Well, I have to try, damn it!"

The table rattled as Dean slammed his hand down.

"Don't I!?"

After Dean's shouts followed silence.

He was pissed.

Fuming.

He grasped Sam beer bottle by the neck, chucking it as hard as he could across the room where it shattered against the wall, alcohol flowing onto the tiled floor beneath.

"Dean what the hell?!"

Dean didn't answer. He stood before Cas, fists clenched as he spoke through gritted teeth.

"Stand up."

No reply, not even a glance.

"I said stand up damn it!"

There was a loud crash as the chair Castiel was seated in toppled over, a handful of his tie in Dean's fist as he was yanked on his feet.

"Dean calm down!"

"Shut the hell up Sam."

Dean pulled him close, so close that if one were to tilt their head forward in the slightest their foreheads would be pressed. Cas's eyes were adverted, looking somewhere, anywhere other than Dean's eyes.

"Look at me."

He gave the tie a tug and their forehead's conked.

"Look at me."

Cas hesitantly shifted his gaze, blue eyes and green eyes locking.

"We have busted our asses cleaning up after you. When you were broken, Cas, we fixed you. We've fixed you, every time. And this, this moping, staring out the window, feeling sorry for yourself crap, this is how you repay us? By ignoring us, acting like we're not even here? Look Cas, I'm sorry that you fucked up, but staring out that damn window isn't going to fix a thing. And you know what Cas? Do know what your problem is? You don't listen. If you listened to half of the things I said, if you trusted me as much as you should, we wouldn't always be in these damn messes. Now if you were gonna pick a time, Cas, any time to listen, it should sure as hell be now, and you're going to talk to me, you son of a bitch."

There was a shove, and a clatter, ending with Cas's heel getting tripped up on the chair and lying flat on the ground. Next was the jangling of keys, the slam of the door, and the sound of the Impala's engine revving. Dean had torn off down the road before Sam had even gotten the chance to stop him.

***I hope this one was a bit longer! I'm really happy to have gotten back into the grove of things, and even happier it didn't take as long as I thought. Turns out, all it took was listening to rain, taking a pen and paper instead of Word, and a cup of tea!***