This is the story about how Castiel, Angel of the Lord, became Cas á la 2014, from 5.04, The End.

This first chapter takes place late winter 2012.

Warnings are angst and possibly attempted suicide.

Enjoy!

Someone bangs on the door.

"Cas?" Cas lazily opens his eyes and glances towards the door, and finds that his mouth can't form a coherent reply, so his eyes drift shut again, ignoring the continued pounding. "Cas? Cas, what the hell?" Cas wonders if he should be annoyed at the pounding, and Dean's shouts, but discovers he doesn't care, he just wants to sleep…

The door bangs open, and Cas feels himself drifting deeper into darkness, comfort…

"You stupid son of a bitch!" Dean leaps across the room and snatches up the empty pill bottle. "Morphine? All of it?" He tosses it away and slaps Cas, hard. "Cas!" Cas' eyelids flutters and he murmurs something Dean can't make any sense of. "Cas!" Dean slaps him again and tugs him into upright position by the collar. Cas' head lolls onto one shoulder and he is frighteningly limp in Dean's grip. "Cas!" Another slap. Then he drags Cas a little bit so he was leaning on the wall, and crosses the room to close the door. He doesn't want the others to see this; it still feels like Cas is his problem, for some reason.

He feels a cold ball of fear forming when he sees how shallowly Cas seems to be breathing, but Cas doesn't seem totally out of it, so it couldn't have been that long since he downed the pills, right? Right?

He goes back to Cas and shakes him without much response. He holds Cas' head upright and lifts an eyelid, pinpoint pupil way too obvious in the relatively dim light.

"Cas, damnit", he mutters. Cas slumps sideways and Dean feels the knot of cold fear coil and twist. Once again he hauls Cas upright, this time to his feet to drag him to the cabin's small sink.

Cas feels like he should struggle, Dean's disturbing him when it feels so good, he wants to keep drifting away, it felt so calm… But he has no strength for it, his stomach lurches uncomfortably, and can't help being dragged to his feet and bent over the sink… His weak, flopping movements only seemed to make Dean even moredetermined.

After unceremoniously shoving two fingers down Cas' throat and making him puke out as much of the pills as possible, gotten him to drink some water and repeating the procedure a few times, roughly splashing water in Cas' face in between, Dean thinks he seems to be coming around a bit. At least enough to turn his head away when Dean tries to make him drink more.

"No…" he mumbles, and Dean lets out a breath he didn't know he'd held. He puts the water glass away and shifts out of the uncomfortable position of holding a limp Cas upright at the sink. Instead he carefully sets himself and Cas down, and Cas' eyes flutters open as his head falls back onto Dean's thigh.

Cas feels terrible. All the soft darkness is gone, the promise of sleeping bliss… he still feels sick and his throat is raw and aching after puking so many times, and Dean hadn't exactly been gentle with his fingers. And his mouth tastes of vomit and bile and pills…

He opens his eyes, looking straight into Dean's. It's a little bit blurry, but he's fairly sure he sees relief in Dean's face for a moment, though it promptly changes into fury.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" Dean raises his hand but doesn't seem to know what to do with it, and settles with rubbing it over his face. "What the hell were you doing? Cas?"

He hates how his throat closes up and his eyes burn, why does he want to cry? The relief that Cas would live quickly gives way to anger as he notices Cas becoming more alert.

"Goddamnit, Cas, what were you trying to do?" He hauls them to their feet, and Cas makes a gagging noise at the sudden movement, but doesn't seem to have anything more to throw up, so he just hangs his head, still leaning almost completely limply on Dean. "Were you trying to off yourself, huh?" Dean accuses as he drags Cas to the bed and laying him on it just slightly more gently than his tone suggests. "Were you?" He stares accusingly at Cas, whose eyes are only half open. Dean almost misses his mumbled reply.

"Dunno…"

He really doesn't. Yes. No. Maybe. There was no conscious plan, he just… took some pills. And it felt good. So he took some more… and then…

"Don't know? You don't know, Cas? Then what the hell was this?" Dean's almost shouting now, and Cas wishes he'd be quiet so he could sleep. He's still so tired; maybe he could catch a little bit of peace…

"Sleep…" Every word is so hard to form, and he closes his eyes. Dean can be angry, when isn't he angry with Cas these days?

He gets a shock when Dean brutally jerks him into sitting position again.

"Oh Hell no, you won't. I'm not going to let you die because you fall asleep now."

Castiel protests weakly at his rough treatment, but Dean is relentless.

"Can you stand?" Cas mumbles something that could be interpreted as a 'maybe', and Dean hauls him to his feet. He catches Cas when his knees buckle, but refuses to drag him over to the sink this time. Instead he just steadies him up, but makes sure he crosses the room in an at least kind of straight path. "Wash your mouth", he suggests, and Cas staggers and almost falls over the sink. Dean catches him with an arm around the chest, though something in him wants to just let go, leave the cabin, leave Cas once and for all.

As Cas rinses out his mouth and splashes water on his face, all while Dean's holding him from collapsing, Dean can't think why he cares anymore. Why he bothers. Cas has changed, has changed so much in the past two years. The women he understands, the booze he gets too, but the drugs, it's too much, too much for Dean to handle seeing his friend constantly high, or drunk, or both.

When Cas makes an attempt to straighten up Dean helps him, wondering how to keep him awake for the next hours.

"Cas, man, what – what were you thinking?" He pulls Cas' arm over his shoulder and starts walking.

First Cas hopes they're heading towards the bed, but while he tries to form a reply he realizes that is not the case.

"It…" He pauses, takes a breath, talking and walking feels too much. Dean seems to get it, because he stops, too. "It – it felt…" Cas squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, missing the feeling. "… it felt good." He is so tired… why can't Dean just let him sleep?

But no, endless circles around the cabin's only room, occasionally a few minutes rest on a chair. Although he's still tired, it feels easier and easier to form coherent sentences. Dean doesn't speak much, though. Doesn't ask more. And Cas wonders why, or even if, he cares, but if he doesn't, why is he doing this? It would have been so easy to walk away. Sure as hell Cas would have walked away from himself.

After what feels like, and probably is, hours, Dean finally stops and dumps Cas onto the bed. To his own surprise he doesn't immediately retreat into lying position. Dean drags a weary hand over his face.

"Alright, Cas, I think you're good." Cas laughs aloud.

"No, Dean, I was good."

Dean's anger, dulled from the monotony of their endless circles around the room, instantly flares up again.

"So you think that was good, huh? That I shoulda left you like that?" The way Cas slowly lies back down without answering speaks volumes, and Dean throws his hands into the air, wanting punch something, hold onto something, anything… he roughly combs through his hair with his fingers instead and still doesn't know what to do with his hands. "Well, don't you ever do this again. 'Cause I won't do this again. You – what you've become… you –" The blue eyes that meets his almost remind him of the way they used to look, so serious, so... solemn.

"Because what I have become isn't worth saving." Dean pulls in a breath and feels like Cas just punched him. Conflicting parts of him yell different things inside his head, but he finds he can't deny what Cas just said. This… what happened… it just proved it.

"Why should I save you if I can't trust you, Cas?"

The words cut deeply, just like he knows Dean intended, though he knows he deserves them. He looks away, can't bear to meet those eyes anymore. He can read anger, hurt, and confusion in them, and wishes he could knew what Dean was thinking as easily as he once could.

He closes his eyes, can't figure out a reply to the question, because he can't bring himself to actually say 'you shouldn't', because Dean would have no choice but to agree, either in words or silence.

Cas knows he's a disappointment to his friend, if he can call him that anymore. Dean has so many reasons not to care, not to bother with him anymore, and Cas believes that after this… he is alone. That Dean has given up on him, completely.

He hears Dean walk away, and feels tears leak out of his closed eyes as the door closes. By saving his life, Dean made sure Cas really lost him.

He lifts his hands, pressing the palms to his eyes. The tears are finally running free, and the sobs wracking his body makes his throat ache even more.

And he cries until he falls asleep, wondering if it's worth it. If there's some way to make Dean feel he didn't waste this day.

His last thought before sleep finally claims him is that there isn't. That he really isn't worth saving. Castiel might have been, but never Cas, this… weak human. How could Dean ever really have cared about him anyway?

~SPN~SPN~SPN~

"As long as you're here, so will I be." The language, oddly formal for him these days, seems more like Castiel than Cas, but it seems strangely fitting. A vow of allegiance, binding him until Dean's death,

Oh please, let it not be soon, let it be soon so I am free

a promise that yesterday won't be repeated. He won't do it again, as long as Dean is alive. However long that will be, with their fearless leader taking risks like he's been doing ever since Sam

The angels, my brothers and sisters

left. But somehow he can feel that Dean's fate is not yet played out. And he curses himself for making the promise, but when Dean briefly looks at him, looking him into the eye, saying

"Good."

Cas knows he can never take it back, that despite not having been a good friend in too long, there is still some loyalty to Dean left.

I won't leave, Dean, I still care about you. I'll follow you to the end, you deserve at least that.

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