Summery: Sam and Castiel search for Dean. Having no idea Dean is now a demon, Castiel finds himself blindfolded and tied to the wall, and Dean wouldn't let him go. Will Cas be able to get over the trauma and take their relationship to the next level? Does Dean even want that? Destial. Rapt/non-consent/torture elements.

The smell of burning holy oil pulled Castiel from his unconscious state, blinking against the blackness before his eyes, trying to shake the fog from his brain. He groaned as his senses slowly returned and a steady throbbing in his head made him wince. He caught brief whiffs of leather, the sweet smell of freshly turned earth and something like wet wood. The last thing he remembered was talking to Sam on the phone, he'd been in the parking lot of a bar he'd just exited after questioning them if they'd seen a certain hunter recently. Sam and him had been searching for Dean since he'd disappeared from his bunker room five weeks ago.

The whole situation smelled rotten, Sam insisted his brother had been dead when he'd carried his body into his room and set him on the bed. Well dead people don't just disappear into thin air.

But here they were, hunting for a supposed dead guy. What had happened in the parking lot? Try as he might, Castiel couldn't recall. He didn't remember ending the phone call with Sam. And now he was here. Wherever here happened to be.

A rough surface rubbed against his bare back as Castiel tried to move, and his shoulders and wrists ached. He quickly realized even without the luxury of sight he was naked form the waist up. Cautiously, Castiel tried to pull his arms inward to relief the discomfort but found both arms stretched out and above his head, held in place by cold, hard metal that just barely cut into the skin of his wrists.

Castiel struggled against the cruel bonds as he tried to move his feet, realizing he was upright and his legs were also spread, though not uncomfortably so, and he felt shackles around his ankles, preventing him from doing little more than shoving his feet against the cold floor to relief some of the stress on his shoulders and wrists. Someone had chained him to a wall, he realized with growing unease.

Every fiber of his being felt weak, like even breathing would be too much effort. He felt even weaker than he already been feeling for weeks with his grace fading more each day. Apparently his capture knew how to use sigils to weaken angels. Castiel turned his head at the sound of footsteps off to his left, he still couldn't see anything but a dim light and a fuzzy shadow and he became aware of a soft pressure around his head. He'd been blindfolded with what seemed to be a handkerchief.

"Well, look who decided to join the party." The voice sent a shudder of relief down Castiel's spine for more reasons than one.

"Dean?" Castiel choked out, hating how pathetic his voice sounded even to his own ears. He could barely believe his good fortune.

"Yes, Angel. It's me." Dean said coldly, his voice floating towards Castiel from somewhere to the left. Some of the earlier relief drained away, replaced with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Dean sounded different, he couldn't quite put his finger on it but there was a certain apathy to the hunter's tone that Castiel had never heard before.

Turning his head towards Dean's voice, Castiel frowned, wishing the blindfold was gone so he could see the other man's face, but his stolen grace had faded to the point that even a simple gesture like that proved too much effort. "It's good to hear your voice. Sam and I have been looking everywhere for you. Your brother is sick with worry." And so was I. he thought, but didn't say it out loud.

A mildly amused chuckle filled the silence and Castiel felt a cool hand running up his bare side, making him shudder despite himself.

"I know." Dean stated, sounding a bit bored by the whole thing. "I've been watching you both."

Castiel's frown deepened. He'd been watching them? "Then you know Sam's upset at your disappearance, why haven't you at least let him know you're okay?"

Fingers trailed lightly over Castiel's bare chest, making him shiver a bit as familiar feelings stirred within him. It had been a while, before Sam had started the Trials, but Dean and Castiel had been intimate a few times. Mostly it had been a rushed blur of lust, hot kisses, quick releases and nothing spoken between them afterwards. Both seemed to acknowledge it as little more than a stress relief, a needed break from the endless mess that was their existence. Yet Castiel always enjoyed their time together and Dean's hand felt good against his skin. A comfort he seldom received.

"I've been busy doing my own thing." Dean replied casually.

"I admit at times to needing some space, but you've been gone for weeks. You should've at least called." Castiel wanted to say more but couldn't figure out how to say it, and couldn't shake the feeling something was very wrong with this whole situation. That didn't sound like Dean at all. Since when did he allow his brother's suffering when he had the power to stop it?

"You two always slowed me down. It's freeing to finally get away from your constant problems and Sam's bitching."

A groan escaped Castiel's mouth as he shifted uncomfortably, his shoulders burned from being held in the unnatural too long and he still couldn't remember how he'd ended up like this in the first place. He felt more confused and unsettled the more Dean talked, something wasn't right

"You don't mean that." Castiel told him, cursing his dulling senses that knew something evil hovered nearby but couldn't determine what it might be.

Another hand reached up and stroked Castiel's neck gently. "I mean every word, my dear Castiel."

"Well, un-cuff me and we can talk about it. This is getting… uncomfortable." Castiel coughed, the movement causing the shackles to rub painfully on his raw wrists.

"I could." Dean's hand brushed against Castiel's cheek gently as he spoke. "But I'm rather enjoying this."

"What?" Castiel sputtered in surprise. Enjoying what? His friend tied helpless to the wall? Dean hadn't shown any interest in bondage before but now he sounded aroused, like he had no intention of letting Castiel go. Kinks were fine and all, but surely he would at least ask first? And they needed to leave before whoever had knocked him unconscious came back.

"Dean, this hurts…" Castiel trailed off, surely he would un-cuff him now?

"Awe, what's wrong, Cas? Don't like not having control? Don't like being at the mercy of someone else?"

Something akin to embarrassment caused Castiel's cheeks to flush at Dean's teasing. Why was he doing this? "Whoever captured me could return at any moment, and I'd rather not be half naked and chained to the wall when they do."

"You don't need to worry about that, Angel." He felt Dean's hand grip his arm roughly, the contact burned slightly, like the touch of someone tainted would. Castiel flinched, wanting to pull away but he was powerless. The grace inside just barely keeping him alive at this point, and the angel sigils made his head hurt and legs feel like jelly.

"What are you doing, Dean?"

"Just having some fun with my favorite pet." Dean's warm breath fluttered across Castiel's ear, making the angel shudder. Dean was using the same demeaning speech Castiel had used when he'd been power tripping with all the souls from purgatory inside him.

"Dean, please. We need to go, now."

"You're so weak, so helpless." The hunter ignored Castiel's concerns, trailing his fingers along the angel's shoulder, down his back – and brushing against something that had Castiel's breath hitching in his throat as sudden panic made his heart race. He gasped as Dean paused, before gliding his hand along the arch of Castiel's left wing, applying firm, steady pressure.

"Oh!" Castiel murmured as a wave of electric pleasure jolted through his whole body, his breathy voice a mixture of fear and contentment. He tried to flap his wings but found them stretched out and bound to the wall just like the rest of him. How he hadn't noticed his wings were physically manifested before was beyond him. He'd never shown any human his wings, never had them touched, and never felt so vulnerable in his whole life.

Secretly, he'd become fairly attached to Dean and had considered asking him if he'd mind the addition of wings during sex now and then. Yet he'd always been too scared of opening up to anyone like that, too afraid to reveal his true self; the hunter might not like what he saw. Plus the reasoning behind such insane desires wasn't something he could handle delving into now, maybe ever.

"You like that, don't you?" Dean snorted, his voice overly sweet as he buried his hand into the soft feathers lining the underside of Castiel's wing. The angel stiffened, his wings ruffling against the restraints, it felt amazing, actually; but he wasn't enjoying it. Not like he would be if circumstances had been different.

"It… it feels really good, but…" But I feel like you're molesting me and I'm scared. No way any of that was getting said out loud but at this point he had to admit; it pretty much summed it all up.

"But what, Cas?" Dean whispered in his ear, his free hand wrapped around the angel's waist, pulling him flush against his solid chest. It should have been hot, an intimate gesture that made Castiel shiver in bliss. But instead he recoiled inwardly, feeling his skin tingle in a bad way everywhere Dean's body made contact with his.

"Dean, please let me go." Castiel's voice shook slightly with exhaustion and anxiety, his breath came out in labored pants as he struggled to break free, he found his growing helplessness frustrating and a bit frightening.

A warm tingling sensation ran through Castiel, pooling in his lower region as Dean's fingers massaged the powerful muscles where his wing attached to his vessel's back. He bit his lip to hold back a moan.

"P-please, stop." Castiel pleaded, jerking the chains above his head holding his arms painfully high. His shoulders and back screamed in protest, Castiel now realized part of that was due to the unfamiliar weight his wings put on his vessel. Human bodies weren't meant to support such mass. "I don't like this."

"You sure about that, Castiel." Dean spat out his name like he would when uttering the name of a distasteful enemy. A hand traveled lower, between his legs, tracing the outline of his member. Dean hadn't touched him there in months; he'd craved it so bad, had thought several times about bringing it up to the hunter but had never worked up the nerve. The desires had been almost unbearable during his time as a human so he'd had sex with April, which had helped but even that seemed a distant memory.

Wordlessly, Castiel nodded once. Of course I'm sure… in spite of how much he wanted Dean this wasn't what he'd had in mind.

Dean didn't seem to notice or care that his friend found this much less appealing than he did. Castiel felt strangely dirty when Dean's hand grabbed his cock through his pants. He'd always welcomed the hunter's touch previously but this felt invasive. He'd asked Dean to stop but his requested had been ignored, like Dean didn't care about his feelings in the matter.

"I'm willing to discuss doing this, if you're into it. But not here, not like this." Truly Castiel had never thought of doing something like this with anyone, however, he wasn't opposed to the idea of being tied up in general. But not like this, and not with his wings stretched out and exposed. His wings were a part of his true form, personal, and having them in this plane of existence made him feel more vulnerable than anything he could do with his vessel. The desire to pull them tight against his body and protect them overwhelmed his mind.

"Yeah right!" Dean mocked, rubbing Castiel through the fabric of his pants none too gently. Castiel thrashed his wings useless, trying to dislodge Dean's hand still resting there. "You were a selfish lover at best, only cared about yourself. Worst sex I ever had."

"I tried my best." Castiel replied softly, attempting to the keep hurt from his voice. Dean's words did more damage to his heart than they should have. "You were my first, I know I lacked experience but-."

"Save it." Dean interrupted him. "You've only ever used me for your own personal gain. To get your rocks off or get me to help you with your stupid problems, problems you create more times than not."

"That's not true." Castiel insisted defiantly. "Why are you doing this to me?" I... I love you. He thought silently, he'd never told Dean that, barely admitted it to himself, but he knew that's what his intense feelings meant. Love made him want to protect Dean, spend every second of the day with him, do anything in his power just to make him laugh, drove him to keep looking for him for weeks. Only love made you care more about another person than yourself, Castiel wasn't stupid. Dean's betrayal cut deeper than any knife ever could.

"You hurt my brother, you played me, you helped Metatron trap all the angels down here. Did you really think I was just going to let all that go?" Dean carded his fingers through Castiel's feathers. The angel bit his lip to stop the whimper from escaping but he couldn't control the nervous twitch at the contact. Everything in him screamed at him to fold his wings tight and hide them from this world, but the shackles held them in place, something else keeping them bond to this space of realty.

"I don't feel well, my grace is fading and my wings..." Castiel lower his voice to a soft whisper. "Dean, please release my wings."

Dean laughed, a cruel uncaring laugh that made Castiel's heart sink. This wasn't his Dean, the Dean he knew would never force himself on anyone, would never leave them tied up for his own enjoyment.

"That's not going to happen, Cas. I spent too long figuring out how to get your wings into this plane of existence to let you spoil all my fun again."

"I don't know what's happened to you, but this isn't the real you. You need to fight this." Castiel coughed again, tensing against the pain.

"Oh this is the real me, the unhindered, all cards out on the table, finally doing things for myself, me."

"You don't have to do this." Castiel's voice was even more gravely than normal.

"I know, I want to do this." Suddenly Dean pressed his warm body against Castiel's, grinding their hips together as the hunter bit down into Castiel's neck, nipping his sensitive skin. He felt hands on both his wings now, rubbing along the ridge, tugging roughly on his flight feathers.

"Mmm, Dean..." Castiel sagged against the solid form of the other man, his head dipping forward, unable to hold his own weight as his body betrayed him. Despite his anxiety and confusion his cock hardened at the raw feeling of pleasure any contact with his wings provided him; they were definitely a weak spot for him. Well, they were when Dean's hands were the ones touching them.

Catching the angel easily, Dean shoved a knee between Castiel's legs, pressing him hard against the wall, still peppering his neck with hot kisses. He moved up and breathed warm air over Castiel's ear, and he caressed the soft hair on the angel's head, making him to shudder.

"Shhh, relax, Cas. I got you." Dean muttered, his voice sounded soft yet it did little to assure the angel, it only served to make him feel all the more violated.

Castiel struggled to get his feet under him and ease the strain on his upper body, but his legs felt too weak. This all felt like a bad dream, like the ones he'd had while human, perhaps he was dreaming right now, the less grace he had left the deeper his meditation become, he could have sworn he'd fallen asleep last time.

"I can't do this, I'm so tired. Let me go." Castiel tried desperately to get through, hoping his friend was still in there somewhere and would snap out of this. He would forgive Dean of course, and they could go back to the way things were. "Untie me, Dean."

"It's all about you, isn't it?" Dean snickered. "That's why I tied you up, you stupid Angel. You owe me." He dug his hands into the wings stretched out before him, quivering beneath his touch. Dean continued to squeeze until his nails broke the skin, making Castiel jerk in surprise as he felt warm liquid drip down his feathers.

"Ugh." He gasped, his wings fluttering involuntarily. "You're hurting me."

"You're pathetic," Dean didn't let up his unnaturally strong grip. "Barely even an angel anymore."

Castiel felt tears prick at the back of his eyes. What could have happened to the hunter while he'd been gone to change him so much? As much as he knew this wasn't really Dean, couldn't be him, the words hurt, and the forced groping made him feel like nothing but a piece of meat. There was truth in the accusations that drove them home. He was hardly an angel anymore, certainly not the strong, holy one he'd been when he'd first laid hands on Dean and pulled him from hell.

"Nothing to say for yourself?" Dean questioned, digging his nails into Castiel's side before hooking a finger in the angel's pants, slowly unbuckling the buckle, pulling his pants down and letting them fall around his ankles. Strong hands stroked him through the fabric of his boxers until his breath hitched and he couldn't stop from wiggling.

"Well?"

Castiel clenched his fists but remained silent, ignoring the lurch in his stomach when Dean went back to stroking his wing, it took everything he had not to flinch.

"How you like this now?" Dean gripped a feather and rolled it between his finger and thumb. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut as a tear slide down his cheek, still not uttering a sound.

"I asked your stupid feathery ass a question." Dean growled, pressing something cold and sharp against Castiel's throat. "Don't make me hurt you."

"You're... sick." Castiel choked out. "Let me and Sam help you."

"Wrong answer."

Castiel cried out, curling in on himself as much as possible, when Dean jammed his knee into his crotch, sending pain lancing through his whole body. Castiel gagged, trying to close his legs to protect himself, but the shackles prevented the movement. He'd never been kicked in the balls before but quickly decided it hurt far worse than a lot of other things he'd endured.

"I told you not to make me hurt you." Dean said with mock remorse.

Still catching his breath, Castiel let his arms support his weight, hating how heavily he was leaning on Dean but unable to get his legs to work right. He didn't reply, seeing no point, whatever had taken Dean over didn't give two shits about the angel or his brother.

The next time Dean's knee thrust into his balls, Castiel couldn't hold back the blood curdling scream of agony torn from his dry throat.

"D'n... p-please." Castiel stammered weakly when he regained his voice, still half delirious from the pain. "Just kill me."

"I'm going to." Dean sliced a shallow cut across the angel's neck. Castiel hissed softly, flinching as memories of Metatron stealing his grace ended his mind. "Just not right now."

Dean carved into the flesh of his chest and ribs while Castiel squirmed miserably; he gasped once when Dean moved the blade to his face but otherwise kept silent. Deep down he felt like maybe he deserved this, after everything he'd failed to do right, perhaps this was his punishment. God's way of bringing karma back around to bite him in the ass. He only wished it hadn't been Dean doing these things to him. Having one of the people he cared about the most hurting him mentality screwed with his mind like no monster ever could.

When Dean started cutting some sort of pattern on his stomach Castiel arched his back, muscles tense, pulse pounding in his skull. It stung bad, but nothing he couldn't handle. Time seemed to slow and his whole world narrowed to the unthinkable reality. Dean was torturing him. The feeling of warm blood trailing down his body made him queasy, he bit his lower lip until he tasted iron on his tongue.

"Not so high and mighty now, are you?" the warm pressure of Dean's body vanished and Castiel wondered briefly if Dean was going to leave; until he felt the point of what was definitely an angel blade resting lightly on his right wing. An unavoidable whimper emanated from his partly open lips.

"No, no… don't." Castiel begged fearfully.

The pressure receded and Castiel sighed shakily with relief; until Dean reached up and pulled away the blindfold and Castiel got a real look at the hunter for the first time. The reality he faced was far worse than he'd imagined.

"Dean…" he muttered in disbelief. Wishing his eyes were playing a cruel trick on him but knowing they weren't. "You're… a demon."

"That I am." Dean grinned evilly, flicking his eyes black for a moment, enjoying the angel's shock. He shook his head as if to acknowledge the horror of it all. "And as a demon, I hate angels."

"How did this happen?" Castiel questioned in a strained, deep voice.

With a half smile that held no warmth or happiness, Dean tossed the angel blade from hand to hand, walking back and forth as his lust filled eyes ran up the length of Castiel's body.

"Why are your wings black?" Dean asked, ignoring the angel's question. He smirked smugly as Castiel stiffened slightly. He waited a moment before continuing, reaching a hand out to caress the messy feathers around the crest of the right wing. "Because from what I've read, and in my experience, angel feathers are white."

Castiel turned his head away shamefully, not meeting Dean's glaring gaze. Because I rebelled against Heaven. "All angels have different colored wings." He mumbled through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, Cas… I'm not buying it." Dean cupped both his hands to Castiel's face and forced the angel to look at him, letting the cold metal of the blade press against his cheek. "Tell me the truth."

"I am." He said flatly, not letting his voice betray his emotions as he glared defiantly into Dean's dead eyes.

"Okay, we can do this the hard way." Dean walked over to Castiel's right wing again and gripped one of the larger feathers by the base, tugging roughly. "Hm?"

Castiel said nothing, hanging his head, preparing himself for what he knew was coming next. He barely flinched when Dean ripped the feather out, but his breath hitched a little. He tried to escape deep within himself, and ignore the burning desire to protect his exposed wings. He couldn't do a damn thing.

"You're starting to piss me off, Castiel." Dean growled, plucking out more feathers until there was an obvious gap in the plumage and thick, red blood oozed from the wounds, pooling on the dirt beneath.

The pain made Castiel's eyes water and he moaned, gripping the chains holding his arms above his head until his knuckles where white, arching his back off the wall. He choked back a heartbroken sob as Dean threw the damaged feathers in his face.

"You're wings are ugly, not even a nice black. They're boring, just like you." Somehow Dean knew just how to hit him where it hurt the worst.

He's right. Castiel thought, feeling his cheeks burn hot with shame. His wings flittered nervously; he wanted so badly to hide them. They were no longer beautiful like they'd once been.

Apparently getting bored, Dean gripped Castiel's dark hair and jerked his head back. The hunter glared, jaw clenched in hatred. The angel's eyelids were half shut and he let Dean yank his head around like a rag doll. All the blood lost and pain putting his abused body into shock. "If you don't start talking I'm going to start cutting." He placed the angel blade against the base of Castiel's right wing. Castiel sucked in a sharp breath, fear flicking in his blue eyes.

"Why do you have black wings?"

"Why do you care?" Castiel ground out, earning himself a smack across his face.

"Just tell me you piece of shit!" Dean yelled, slamming Castiel's head against the hard wall multiple times, until he was seeing stars and the dim room spun around him so fast he had to close his eyes. He felt super dizzy and detached from reality.

"I… um… 'couse…" Castiel slurred, his brain wouldn't put together what he was trying to say. Probably because he'd gotten a concussion. "'Couse… ugh, y-you…"

"What?" Dean leaned in closer. "I can't understand you, Cas."

"I… I… wuv… hmm." Castiel giggled like a little girl, looking up at Dean with defeat. "Don't… kn'w."

"You're lying, Cas."

"I'm… I can't…I… don't 'urt… me." Castiel pleaded, not even comprehending the gibberish coming out of his mouth. He just wanted this stop. Did he just beg like a dog to a demon? What kind of angel did that?

"Dean!" a shocked voice exclaimed from somewhere in the room.

Sam! Castiel scanned the room as best he could with his blurry vision as Dean looked up in surprise. He stepped back from the angel slightly, obviously also recognizing his little brother's voice. Sam needed to know his brother had turned into a demon before he ended up getting the same treatment.

"Hiya, Sammy." The older Winchester spun on his heels to face his brother standing no matter than ten feet away. He smiled, angel blade still held up, ready to kill whoever got close enough.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam sounded dumbfounded.

Pausing momentarily, Dean narrowed his eyes, as if he couldn't decide what to do. "Just living life, what are you doing?"

Castiel felt both relieved and hurt that demon Dean didn't seem to harbor the same hatred towards his brother as he did towards him. Maybe, deep down, he actually felt that way, and now that all inhibitions had been removed he was acting on it. Castiel tried to tell Sam to go, but his tongue suddenly wouldn't cooperate.

Reaching for his knife with his good hand, Sam took a slow step forward, eyes leaving Dean only for a mere second to glance in the angel's direction. "Why are you hurting, Cas?" he asked calmly, though he appeared tense, ready to jump into attack at any moment.

"I'm not hurting him." Dean replied easily, holding up his hands as if in defeat. "I just got here. Someone else is obviously pissed at him, I was just about to un-cuff him."

Sam's face fell as his eyes darted between his brother and Castiel. "I saw you beating his head against the wall." He told Dean, shaking his head slightly, eyes begging the older Winchester to tell him it was all a big misunderstanding.

"Yeah… well." Dean grinned sheepishly as he inched towards Sam. "I can explain."

"Okay." Sam agreed slowly, lowering his weapon a bit.

"Stay… back." Castiel finally managed to warn in a raspy voice. "D'n's…. demon."

"What?" shock filled Sam's voice and he frowned at Castiel, who did little more than glance worriedly at Dean's back.

Sam barely had time to react when his brother lunged at him, knocking him back. Holding the knife out without conviction, Sam staggered backwards until Dean had him pinned against the far wall. But to both Castiel's and Sam's surprise, Dean didn't follow up. He stood his ground but made no farther move to hurt Sam.

"This doesn't concern you, Sam. Just walk away and I'll leave you alone." Dean's voice sounded almost pleading.

"That's not true, you're my brother, and this most definitely concerns me. I've been tearing the place up looking for you. Come back to the bunker with me, I can help you."

Dean snorted softly through his nose. "I don't want your help. I don't want you, just go away."

"You don't mean that."

"Didn't you hear, Cas? I'm a demon, which means I don't want or need you two anymore. I'm having the time of my life doing whatever I want, and not feeling guilty about it."

An expression that could only be sorrow darkened Sam's features, he appeared at a lost as he lowered the knife to his side. Castiel tensed, adrenaline giving him the strength to hold his head up. He worried Dean would take the chance to harm Sam, yet he didn't. Perhaps he too had mixed feelings about the situation.

"So, living the dream for you is.. is beating up your friend?" Sam nodded at Castiel, his voice soft and pleading. "Come on, Dean, that's not you.

Dean shrugged. "It is now, Sammy. And if you don't want to be next I suggest you make like a tree and leave."

"I can't, Dean." Castiel had to strain his ears to hear Sam's gentle reply, he could tell the younger Winchester was more shaken up than he wanted to let on. "You're all I got, and I'm not leaving you. And I can't let you torture Cas, man, he's our friend he doesn't deserve that."

Visually bristling at the mention of the angel, Dean sneered. "Cas? Sam, Cas is a selfish, good-for-nothing dick, he's not my friend. He's nothing to me."

"Hey, relax, okay?" Sam had an amazing ability to go with the flow of whatever crap life handed him, Castiel realized, feeling a spark of hope flicker in his chest. Maybe the younger Winchester could get through to Dean after all. He no longer cared what happened to him, he just wanted Dean to be happy and as long as he had Sam by his side he would be.

With a sigh, Castiel let his head loll forward, wincing at all the blood, his blood, pudding around his feet. There appeared to be a lot, thick and almost black in the dim light. A few dull black feathers broke up the endless sea of red, he smiled bitterly. It had been a stupid notion ever falling for a human in the first place, and thinking Dean might actually reciprocate his feelings even more foolish. Dean had Sam, and Sam was the only one he ever softened up towards, the two were inseparable, Castiel would only get in their way.

"What kind of brother are you anyway? Siding with an angel over you own flesh and blood?"

"I'm not siding with him." Sam said carefully. "Look. We know how to cure demons now, and I'm not about to give up on you. Please, come back with me. You're my brother, and I need you." Sam had most likely given Dean his best puppy eyes at the end.

"Come on, man. Home? We don't have a home and our lives are a joke, nothing but one miserable failure after another. Well I'm done, I like not feelings anything." Dean sounded cocky and slightly more irritated.

"Dean, please."

"Last chance, Sammy."

Silence filled the air for several all moments.

Then the hasty pounding of footsteps, the sound of splashing water, a hiss of pain, the dull thud of a solid body hitting the wall and a soft moan. There was a jarring crash as a stack of empty crates got knocked to the floor. The muffled sounds of two men wrestling it out from the ground most likely, and another thud as a body slumped ungracefully against the wood floorboards. Another soft groan and the quick panting of labored breaths the only thing that could be heard.

The next thing Castiel knew a gentle hand rested itself on his shoulder. He flinched, a barely audible whimper spilling from his mouth, unsure who was touching him.

"Shh, it's okay." a voice soothed, lightly squeezing his shoulder.

Relief flooded the remains of Castiel's senses. "Sam?" He croaked, trying to lift his head to face the younger Winchester.

"Yeah, Cas, it's me." Sam's voice was strained yet filled with compassion. "It's going to be okay." He mumbled again, as if more to himself than Castiel. Finding out your brother had turned into a demon couldn't be easy.

The pressure left Castiel's shoulder and a callused hand cupped his left cheek, careful not to brush against the cuts, gently lifting his head up. Sam's eyes were filled with concern and somewhere, shoved down out of necessity, a mountain of pain. A gash above his right eye bled sluggishly, red blood tickling down the side of his face.

"D'n?"

"I took care of him." Sam replied gruffly, eyebrows pinched together and lips pressed in a thin line.

Castiel tried to thank Sam, tried to tell him how sorry he was that all this had happened, that Dean was a demon, that he'd had to fight his own brother because Castiel hadn't been smart enough to keep himself from getting captured. But all he managed to force pass his dry lips sounded like a whining moan.

"Don't talk," Sam commanded gently. "I'm going to untie you, okay?" he spoke as if the angel were a caged animal scared out of its mind. Perhaps that wasn't far from the truth. Castiel nodded numbly as Sam released his hold and without hesitation, knelt in the puddle of blood to pick the locks around the angel's ankles. The younger Winchester had the shackles off in no time, finally allowing Castiel to more easily support his weight.

Sam's hand once again rested on his shoulder, as if to warn him of his whereabouts. Castiel turned and gave the hunter and lopsided smile to assure the other man he really would be fine. He wasn't a porcelain doll for goodness sakes! Still, Castiel had to admit he appreciated the consideration, undeserved as it was.

Sudden panic jolted through Castiel's chest when Sam reached his hand out to steady the angel's wing as he worked on unlocking the metal bar pinning the appendage to the wall.

"D-Don't." he stammered weakly. Sam turned to look at him with a puzzled expression, his hand hovering mere inches from the feathers.

"I'll be gentle, I promise." Sam waited for permission, eyes never leaving Castiel's face, his features tight from worry and exhaustion. Swallowing hard, Castiel nodded slightly, not trusting his voice.

To Castiel's surprise and utter relief, Sam's hand was gentle, comforting, soothing, like the caress a mother would give the back of her crying child. He sighed heavily, letting go of the breath he just know realized he'd been holding. He heard a faint click and felt his wing fall free of its bonds, he let it sag unceremoniously to the floor, feathers brushing the drying blood. Sam soon had his other wing free and Castiel pulled them flat against his body, ruffling them slightly. He felt insanely better just having them close. He heard Sam let out a soft gasp as a rush of energy filled the air and the wings disappeared from view.

"Okay, last ones." Sam mumbled, reaching easily over the angel's head to play with the locks around his wrists.

The second the shackles opened Castiel's arms fell limply to his sides and he slumped against Sam's chest, letting out muffled cry from the pain.

"Whoa, whoa! Easy, Cas. I got you. You're okay." Sam muttered reassuringly as he caught the angel by trapping him between the wall and his body. He struggled for a moment to hold them both upright as he awkwardly shifted Castiel over to his good arm.

"I'm… sorry." Castiel whispered in raspy voice, clinging to Sam's jacket with one hand as the hunter jostled him around before getting a firm hold. He hated how helpless he'd become. How could anyone still want him around? He was useless; he had no powers left, and he wasn't a strong hunter like Sam or Dean.

"You don't need to be sorry. You didn't do nothing wrong, how could you have known Dean was a demon?" Sam slung Castiel left arm over his shoulder, wincing as the shorter man groaned in pain. "Sorry, I can't carry you very well with my arm in a sling. Can you walk with support?"

"Yes." With that Castiel tried to take a step, but bile instantly rose in the back of his throat and dizziness threatened to overcome him. His legs buckled and he pitched forward, nearly pulling both men to the floor. Sam grunted under the sudden weight, but succeeded in heaving Castiel upright again and cradling his friend to his side.

"Take it easy, let me lead, you've lost a lot of blood."

Cursing his weakness Castiel had no choice but to let Sam half drag half carry him towards the door. He tripped twice more, each time Sam miraculously managed to keep them both standing and moving more or less the right way. Sam kept mumbling assurances that Castiel clung to for dear life, the soft voice the only thing keeping him grounded to consciousness.

Even so, the third time his knees buckled Castiel fell into the merciful void.