His Fallen Grace

Chapter Fourteen

"Thanks, angel."

Dean grinned as Cas set a fresh-out-of-the-oven pie on the table, pulling him onto his lap.

"Of course, Dean."

Dean pulled him in for a kiss.

"I'm going back inside to get some plates," Cas said, peeking over the patio railing at the white rose bush growing there. "Would you like anything while I'm in there?"

"Could you get me another beer babe?"

A smile tugged at Cas's lips as he gave Dean another kiss, getting off his lap. He slid the sliding glass door open, stepped back inside, shedding the oven mitts from his hands and tossing them on the counter as he made his way to the cupboard. He tucked two glossy white plates beneath his arm, turning and taking a beer from the fridge and pushing it closed with his foot.

When he reached the door, the smell was what hit him first. The plates and beer shattered upon impact with the patio, glass sent flying and alcohol pooling.

"Dean...!" Cas choked out, breathlessly dropping to his side. He applied pressure to the slit on Dean's throat, the blood staining his hands and clothing, though it was too late. He felt hot tears well up in his eyes, the sound of fluttering wings coming from the other side of the table. Hurriedly wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands, he got to his feet. He knees were weak and felt as if they could give out from beneath at any time. The familiar figure standing before him wiped blood from an angel blade off onto his sleeve.

"Seraphiel."

"So, Castiel..." Seraphiel plucked a white rose from the bush besides the patio railing, examining it closely as he spoke. "This is what you dream of?"

He flicked the flower from his fingers. It landed beside Dean, its pale, snow white petals speckled with scarlet drops of blood. Castiel spoke softly, trying to keep his voice calm, even though he knew it was only a dream.

"How are you here? Our Grace-"

"Was taken from us, yes. For others, like you, it faded more quickly. I managed to salvage what very little I still had, therefore making our little conversation... possible."

He held the angel blade out, inspecting it.

"What are you doing here?"

"You see, Castiel," Seraphiel started, tucking the angel blade away. "You've been a real big thorn in our side with all your hiding. We want you to stop playing and come out of the shadows."

Cas clenched and unclenched his fists, looking at his brother nervously.

"I can see your thoughts, Castiel. I know what you're thinking. So let's give you a little incentive, shall we? Come find us, or we kill your precious Winchesters."

Castiel awoke with a start, breath caught in his throat and lungs left without air. He gasped, chest heaving as he took shallow breaths. He turned to Dean who lay next to him in the bed, a feeling of relief washing over him to see that he really wasn't dead. Should he wake him? Should he not? He decided to not. Leaving without a goodbye would be less painful, and Dean would never let him go.

He planted a kiss on Dean's temple, wiggling out of his arms and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He got up, opened the door, glanced back, then slipped out. And just like that, he was gone.

***Please don't stab me. ಥ_ಥ I wanted my plot back... Btw, thank you ever so much for 1K reads. That is CRAZY.***