AUTHOR NOTE: This is my alternate Destiel ending to season 9, full of love, and heartbreak, and... love. It'll be updated on the 30th of each month and will serve as an alternate season 10. I'll probably write it 'til the end of the show, since I could go on forever. It won't be getting too graphic in the sexual sense, because I want to stick to the tone of the show and whatnot. Enjoy!

It reeked of hell in the old, abandoned church. The stench of death had infiltrated the scent of the reasonably condemned building's rotting wood floors. Once bland, the browns and grays that colored the walls and floor of the church had been speckled with Abaddon's scarlet remains. And it was beautiful. Dean breathed in the scent as he took in the view of the Knight of Hell's defeat. He'd completely tuned out his brother, who had been tied to a post near the back of the sanctuary to watch the battle helplessly. Sam's shouts fell silent on Dean's ears. He heard nothing, save the faint echo of Abaddon's tortured screams playing back in his mind like an instant replay. He felt himself smile, and somewhere in the back of his mind he could remember his brother accusing him of "enjoying it a little too much", but it wasn't loud enough to shake him from his post-slaughtering ecstasy.

The hand that was holding the First Blade, his blade, trembled as though even it feared him. Dean turned to face the front of the church, having sensed the presence of something... wrong. Or maybe it was right. Too right. Righteous, even. It didn't belong there. Not with the Mark of Cain. Not with the First Blade. Not with Dean.

His eyes settled upon Castiel, who was working on freeing Sam from the bonds Abaddon had placed him in, and Dean felt no hesitation as he marched after the angel. His hand tensed around the blade, a burning electricity shooting through the mark on his arm as though it, itself, was alive and was eagerly anticipating another kill.

"Dean, don't do this."

Castiel's words barely reached the hunter, the concern and... purity of the angel's voice served no other purpose than to cause Dean's anger to flare. He raised the blade and smacked Castiel across the face with it. The force of the hit sent the angel flying across the room, crashing against the altar with a shuddering thump.

"You shouldn't be here," Dean growled, taking big, heavy steps to the stunned creature. He reached down to pull Castiel up by the collar of his coat and tossed the blade aside to focus his fist on the angel's face. Holding him up with one hand, Dean swung his fist back and forth, putting all his might into his punches. Castiel didn't even fight back. He couldn't; Dean was too strong. A smirk tugged at the hunter's lips as he reveled in his own power.

"Dean!" Sam continued to yell from the front of the church. Dean didn't care. Hardly noticed, really.

Nor did he notice the broken cries and whimpers of his victim. Castiel was almost unrecognizable to him, at that point. Partially due to the fact that he was covered in blood, yes, but mostly because all Dean saw before him was opportunity. The angel was no longer a living thing in his eyes, but an object. A chess piece. And Dean had already taken out the Queen, so why were there still other pieces on the board? He became lost in the bloodlust as he beat Castiel until he felt it was time to quit playing and finish the job. He knelt down to the angel's level and slipped his hand into Castiel's coat pocket, pulling out a long, silver blade. Not nearly as beautiful as his own, Dean thought, but necessary to kill this out of place being.

"Dean." It was a small, broken whisper, but it didn't fail to catch Dean's attention, for once. "Don't do this."

Dean glared down at the angel, holding the blade just centimeters from his chest. "Gimme one good reason."

Castiel breathed deeply, tears in his hopeless eyes as he gathered enough strength to form words. "I...," he shifted, groaning as Dean's nails broke the skin on the back of his neck. The pain Dean was causing him didn't deter Castiel from looking into his eyes with mercy and forgiveness, though the hunter had never asked for any of it. "I love you."

The words woke him up with a gasp. Rushes of color filled Dean's mind, forming images he knew he'd seen before but that didn't seem to exist just moments ago. He saw the angel approaching him in a barn, putting on a light show and revealing the striking shadow of his wings. He saw Castiel sitting beside him in a hospital, reassuring him of his goodness and strength. He recalled the scent of a barely coping Castiel in an apocalyptic future that never came to pass, his friend sticking beside him through thick and thin. He remembered every second of every day spent searching for the angel in purgatory. He heard himself plea with an entranced Castiel to stop beating him, because he was family. Because he needed him.

And Dean came to the horrifying realization that he'd almost just killed the angel he'd once said he'd have died for.

"Cas." Dean dropped the blade, blinking at his hand like he'd just found a cancerous growth on his body. He held the angel's head in his hands like it was made of porcelain, wiping as much blood as he could from his face. "Cas," he whispered, rubbing a thumb back and forth on his friend's jaw in what he hoped was a soothing motion. "I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Dean dropped his head to Castiel's shoulder, wincing at the angel's groan. This was all his fault. Once again. He agreed to a stupid plan and it had almost gotten his best friend killed. Idiot, he cursed himself.

"Dean, I... I won't be able to heal myself." Cas's struggle to speak coherently snapped Dean out of his solo pity party as he lifted his head.

"What do you mean? You've got your grace, you-"

Cas shook his head, his eyes squeezed so tightly in pain that Dean could hardly make them out amongst the rest of his battered face. "Not... enough... for both of us."

Dean bit his lip so hard it started to bleed. "No, no. No, you heal yourself. I don't need grace, Cas, I'm not injured. I'm fine, I-"

"Dean, I have to remove the mark from your arm," Castiel said, and there was no arguing with his tone. He'd made up his mind.

But Dean wouldn't stand for it.

"Just... just heal yourself, Cas. Please," he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek and off his chin. "Please. I can't lose you. Not again. Please."

The startling and inappropriate sound of clapping echoed throughout the church, and Dean lifted his head to see none other than Metatron standing center stage behind the altar.

"Brilliant," the self-proclaimed God said, a wide smile spreading across his face. "This is the best scene from my script I've witnessed come to life thus far. Outstanding, gentlemen, really." Metatron stepped down and approached the pair on the floor, reaching out a hand towards Castiel.

Dean's eyes flickered back down to Cas for a moment as he brought him closer to himself. "Don't you touch him, you son of a bitch!"

Metatron smiled and shook his head, gesturing at the suffering angel in Dean's arms. "You're assuming I want to hurt one of my finest characters." The chuckle he let out made Dean want to pick up the blade again and slaughter the dick, himself be damned. "Not so, Dean. The villain can't be defeated until much, much later. We haven't even reached the climax of the story yet!"

Dean snarled at the angel, clutching Castiel tightly to his chest. "He's not a villain, you dick."

"Now, Dean," Metatron shook a finger at the hunter. "Never criticize a writer's work. I've chosen my characters and their purposes with care. It's all been very well thought out."

"It's called constructive criticism, douchebag!"

"Dean!" Sam's voice reached him from the other side of the building, and Dean turned his head. "Dean, he's right. The story has to play out, and Cas is a part of that story," the younger Winchester said pointedly. Dean could tell his brother had been struggling to free himself from the rope, and grimaced at the thought of what he might have done to him if Sam had tried to take him on earlier.

Smiling, Metatron nodded at Sam. "Very good, Sam. You should really have a bigger role in my script. But don't think I don't know what you're doing." He began to kneel beside Castiel, but didn't lose eye contact with Sam. "Of course, I'll heal Castiel, here, anyway," he said as he put a hand on the angel's shoulder. A bright light filled the room, causing Dean to shield his eyes with his arm. "Just don't underestimate me in the future, Sam. This story is far more complex than you realize."

The light died down, and Metatron disappeared with it. Dean put his arm down and blinked at the angel in his arms. The only indication that Cas had been near death just moments ago was the blood on his coat. Dean wrapped his arms tighter around him and squeezed him against his chest. "Cas, I'm sorry, I-"

"Dean, stop. Please. I need to rid you of the mark. Immediately." Castiel didn't sound angry so much as worried, like Dean's well-being was the most important thing, despite his previous actions, and the hunter couldn't even process that kind of forgiveness.

"You can do that? Without... dying, or something?" Dean raised a brow, searching the angel's eyes for certainty. If there was any chance Cas would be hurt in the process, Dean wouldn't have it.

"I can try. I'll have to use the last of my grace, but it'll work. I think."

Dean's mouth dropped open as guilt filled his gut and he began to feel sick. "You'll be human. Again."

"Yes," Castiel said, giving Dean a not quite reassuring smile. "If it works, I'll be human and you'll be..."

Dean nodded solemnly, no longer able to look Castiel in the eye. "I won't be the monster I let myself become."

Thinning his lips, Cas let out a deep breath. "Yes." He dropped his head against Dean's shoulder, bringing an arm up to cling to the hunter. "Dean, I'm doing this whether you like it or not." Pulling back, he waited for Dean to look at him before saying, "But I have to do something first."

Dean narrowed his eyes, and then, without any further explanation, Cas surged forward and his lips covered Dean's, and suddenly they were kissing and, holy crap, Dean's mind was going crazy trying to keep up with what his friend's actions were telling him.

It was a sweet, chaste kiss at its start and Dean melted into it when his brain had finally processed enough to tell him that his feelings for Cas were not unrequited. The angel's hands found Dean's face and settled on his cheeks as his tongue slipped between the hunter's lips and set a new tone for the kiss. Before Dean could return the passion, Cas was pulling away and it was all over as he said, "Just in case."

Dean faintly noticed the feeling of two fingers on his right forearm and then there was nothing but excruciating pain, as though thousands of tiny scorpions were tearing their way out from under his skin. When the pain subsided, Dean caught a distraught look on Castiel's face before the angel fell forward into his arms. "Cas? Cas!" He lifted Castiel's head up, cursing the memory filling his mind of the time at April's he held Cas's lifeless face in his hands. "No, no, no. Cas, wake up."

Sam was at his side within seconds, having finally freed himself from the post. He laid a hand on Dean's shoulder and gently suggested checking for signs of breathing. Dean placed a hand in front of Castiel's face and released a huge sigh when he felt cool air on his knuckles. He nodded to his brother, who gave him a small smile. "He just needs to sleep it off," Sam said.

While gathering the supplies they'd entered the church with hours ago, Sam told Dean to take Cas to the car.

"We need to clean this place up, Sammy. We got the gory details of the almost-Queen-of-Hell's death all ov-"

"I'll take care of it, Dean. This place is going down in flames. Get Cas out of here," the younger Winchester said as he pulled a matchbox from the duffel bag that hung off his shoulder. "I'll be out in a few."

Dean nodded and picked Cas up, holding him close enough that he could feel his breath against his neck as he carried him out bridal style to the Impala.

Sam didn't protest when Dean elected to sit in the back with the sleeping angel. Or human, they supposed. They'd have to wait until Cas awoke to find out.