Castiel should have known better. He tracked the development of the Winchester family, saw their founding members copulate and bond, had gone back in time and traced their genesis back to the scarred, crafty apes they had grown from. He watched as these brothers spat in God's plan and escape from the threads of destiny.

Every time someone tried to tear them apart, they just grew more tangled with each other, closer to one being.

Castiel is not his father. He never should have dreamed that he would be able to do what his father could not- tear apart Sam and Dean Winchester, bring Dean into his alliance, loyal to him before he was loyal to Sam.

He appeared in the cell in which they'd placed him, giddy with his victory, the harness and knot-attachment he'd found at a particularly decadent shop of lustful wares. The molecules of Dean's Heat clung to him, and the Alphas inside the building had turned toward Castiel's invisible presence, confused as they searched out the source.

Dean was on Sam's lap, impaled on his cock. When Castiel looks closely, he can see the small, bright flare of life developing inside of him.

It was the ultimate betrayal, the final line drawn in the sand. Dean was not his. Dean was not meant to be his.

The roar at the back of Castiel's mind grew, demanding he punish the Winchesters, demanding blood. He took in Dean's expression of defiance, Sam's possessive, hateful stare, and closed his eyes.

Wound the clock back.

He could feel the dissolution of the mating bond, could feel the horror and rage return to the room as it flicked back through the rapes he can committed on Dean's body. He could feel, now that he was looking for it, Sam's horrified, aroused intent, focused on Dean with the natural attraction of an Alpha. He kept going backwards, until he reached the warehouse where his new life as a god had begun.

He steps into himself, superimposed over the other, and opened his eyes.

"I'm your new God," he said, for the second time, for the first time. "Bow down and profess your love unto me."

He would not make the same mistake twice.

Fin.

A/N: I would love to hear your thoughts.