Title: If I Can Fall

Author: starlight2005

Word Count: 2, 171

Disclaimer: I asked Santa but he didn't give them to me. So I'm just borrowing, okay?

Summary: There's only one thing left to apologize for in the eyes of Heaven. But Castiel is stubborn. He's never apologizing for loving Dean Winchester.

A/N: I come bearing a one-shot! Haha. So, SPN marathon yesterday. Awesome, awesome thing to have. If you likey, leave me a comment, 'kay?

This is not what I intended

I always swore to you I'd never fall apart

You always thought that I was stronger

I may have failed;

But I have loved you from the start

Fall For You, Secondhand Serenade

As an angel, Castiel is capable of several things and in a way, Dean takes him for granted. Assumes that strong and powerful supernatural creatures may be, he has Castiel by his side and the angel will never leave him alone. Will never leave him unprotected because he's an angel, man. No way can someone defeat Castiel.

No way.

But the air is stale with foreboding and Dean has yet to react when Castiel suddenly sends him away, eyes wide with trepidation and worry for his human charge. It cries 'doom!' through the wild gust of air and Dean isn't there to witness it. For that, Castiel is innately grateful—that Dean is in a slightly safer place.

The prophet Chuck's house is a panic room of sorts, and through the window Castiel sees the chaos. He sees the prophet's untimely death and the destruction that's being held at bay just by a margin. If Dean were here, he would have died along with Chuck. Innocents caught in the crossfire. In Castiel's damned fate. And for the best of him, the angel feels guilty. Scared at what he knows he should do.

"What now?" Chuck asks nervously, revealing the bone-deep fear that he's feeling. Castiel cannot blame him. The man simply doesn't want to die and face the wrath of an archangel. Castiel understands. He looks at the smaller man and gestures sideways.

"Hide, Chuck," he requests. He doesn't worry about Dean in this short nanosecond. Knows for a fact that the hunter is following a cold trail and hoping he stops his brother in time. Oh how Dean hopes…

When he hears the archangel's voice, Castiel's blood runs cold and he fervently, desperately tries his best to stand tall and show that he is not afraid.

Castiel, dear child, the superior angel calls and Castiel turns his head, refuses to listen.

He won't back down. Dean never did even when they had him 'brainwashed' and following the most unreasonable of orders.

The archangel is coming and Castiel knows he can't do anything so he remains. Stands his ground and thinks of the man he vowed to protect—Dean, with his vibrant green eyes and freckles, his sarcastic retorts and sincerity; his innate strength and concern for people and Sam. Dean trusts him. Believes in him. His role in this play is small; a disposable pawn in an unending chess game… and Dean has faith. In him.

He can't let Dean down.

As Chuck scrambles to hide and the light slowly descends on them, for a minute Castiel thinks of fleeing. He's scared in spite of his revelation. He wants to be by Dean's side, protect him if need be. Keep guarding, keep being trusted. For a flicker of a minute, he considers leaving Chuck. But that isn't what Dean taught him. That won't save people; that won't help them.

And when Castiel thinks about it, it all really boils down to Dean Winchester. What he wants, what he teaches, what he fights for… and Castiel is powerless in stopping himself from getting affected. From admiring the man in all his strengths and weaknesses; in his false bravado and genuineness. He's a walking paradox that drags Castiel in.

At that point, the angel realizes his fault.

You love that filthy monkey, Uriel sneers angrily in his head.

Brother, if you only know…

He's going to lose, this he's certain of. He doesn't stand against any archangel and he regrets that he wouldn't be able to tell Dean to look after himself. To take care of his brother and save the world, as his fate. To do good and be good. He wouldn't be able to tell Dean that he owed everything to the hunter and that to pay back for it, Dean has complete ownership of Castiel's love. But despite this, Castiel is relieved.

At least Dean is safe. Safer. Sam will never hurt him. Intentionally. It's the least that Castiel can give, after all. Dean's only family.

Castiel's willing to die if it means that Dean's going to be alright, is the thing. He glances one last time at the window and sees the trees, the sky and the people passing by. The beauty of a self-destructing world, tarnished and yet a gem in Dean's eyes—worth saving, worth protecting. All the hurt, the misery, the self-loathing? They're nothing compared to the value of life; the idea that people have a chance to give birth, love, cherish memories and be protected. It's the last thing Castiel wishes to see before he is killed.

You fuckin' idiot, don't you dare!

Dean's voice is loud and furious in his head and Castiel thinks he's probably going insane. He's even probably hallucinating. Which is worse, he wonders?

The point is, Castiel? He's willing to do anything for Dean. He won't agree with all of the hunter's ideas every time because sometimes Dean's ideas are mundane and difficult to appreciate. However, he will do it because it's Dean's. Because Dean asked him to, and he trusted the man.

Finally, Castiel realizes that in some cases, his efforts will fall short. Sometimes he will fail.

This is one of those, and his failure will warrant his death. There's nothing he can do about that…

… except pray and apologize.

For obeying too much and taking 40 long, painful years to save Dean from hell.

For not saying goodbye.

For not knowing that it was Uriel who was killing the angels in their garrison.

For not stopping Alastair; for letting Sam do it.

For dying on Dean.

Castiel closes his eyes and stands straighter than he ever did. This is his fight. His last one.

When the archangel finally appears before him, cold and righteous, Castiel meets him calmly. The angel promises an end for Castiel. Promises a chance for repentance but he shakes his head. He has apologized. He's done with that.

Do you repent, child? He is asked once again and they know what the archangel is talking about.

Castiel shakes his head. No is blatant despite the silence.

There's one thing left to apologize for in the eyes of Heaven—

Stubborn, Castiel is.

He's never apologizing for loving Dean Winchester.

The strike doesn't come. The pain doesn't drive him into a crazed haze. He only sees far too bright white light and then Castiel knows no more.

*~*~*~*~*

When Chuck tells him the news, Dean swears he just heard Mount Everest howl. (How mountains do that, he will never know.) He feels cold all of a sudden and he cannot fucking breathe. Like Chuck unwittingly, suddenly wrenched his lungs out and he's gasping for air when there's too much pressure squeezing his insides. He sends Zachariah and his angels away because they're dicks and they're smug, annoying sons of bitches who sent an archangel to kill Cas.

Concerned, Sam looks at him a lot later that night and he shrugs his brother off. He doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, and Sam knows that. Understands that. Backs away and drags Chuck with him, too. Good Sammy. They check in some random motel and get Chuck a separate room. Alone, Dean lies on the bed and stares at the ceiling. Remembers the time when the glass suddenly shattered, and it was all poor, naïve Cas trying to talk to him.

Ha. Naïve Cas and his pitiful attempt at trying to talk to Dean using his real voice…

Dean chuckles lightly to himself. For all his unearthly knowledge, Castiel has little knowledge on social ones. Like personal space and the sanctity of dreams. For some reason, he still expects Castiel to pop out of nowhere and sit beside him. Ask him what he's thinking about; ask him what's wrong like an angel can even understand the problems of mere human beings.

"Hello Dean. What were you dreaming about?"

Dean doesn't know how he wants to react. He's numb and his brain hasn't gotten over the part where Castiel apparently got killed by an archangel. You know, once upon a time, Dean was so close to believing that Heaven was good. But this? Oh, this is war.

What people say about appreciating someone only when said someone is gone?

When Dean thinks about Castiel's persistence to make him believe, to stop hating himself;

When Castiel tries so hard to help him, with his wide-eyed wonder and quiet curiosity of all things human and living… and feeling…

All those solemn looks and silent pleads that Dean trust Cas, that Dean believe that what Castiel is saying is true; all those need to understand and obey, appreciate and finally, finally know what's really going on—

God, he appreciates Castiel now.

Now, okay?

Now.

So please, can someone please return Cas?

It's quarter past midnight when Dean realizes that Castiel isn't really going to come. He's dead, remember? He's not going to suddenly appear and ask him the most random of questions, like why he was awake in the middle of the night, sweating like a pig and scared of the secrets in the dark. He's never going to do that again. He's dead, and Dean should have acted fast. Right before Castiel sent him away, he should have known.

One more loss for Team Winchester…

"Damn it, Cas," he mutters angrily and stands up. Sam isn't here. He's not even surprised anymore. Dean walks over to the booted laptop and decides he might as well research. Work, move on, repress issues. He's already on the third news page when the lights flickered, the power fading in and out and the ground shakes. If this is the Apocalypse, Dean doesn't know how he's going to react. And where's Sammy?

He grabs his handgun and has to hold on to the wall because the earthquake almost toppled him down. He curses and reaches for his phone, speed-dialing his brother to get here. Dean worries about Chuck, who's in the other room. But what's weird is, when he steals a look outside the window, everything looks perfect. Fine.

What the hell.

He stares for a while until someone coughs behind him and calls out his name.

"Dean."

It's not Sammy. It sounds pretty familiar…

When Dean turns around, he pales. Castiel stands before him, weakened of course but still. Standing in front of him. Alive. How is that even possible? Oh that's it. This demon's going to die.

Dean's eyes narrow, "Christo," he hisses.

Castiel sighs. "Dean."

"A shapeshifter then?" Dean searches for his duffel bag, eyeing the being suspiciously and the being looks back. Exasperated, relieved, exhilarated. What?

"I'm not trying to fool you, Dean."

"Sorry, I don't believe you. Cas… he's dead," and wow, doesn't that hurt? Dean points the gun at him but Castiel doesn't mind. He approaches the hunter in small, calculated steps. Why Dean didn't shoot, he doesn't know. What he does know is that when Castiel placed his hand on the handprint on his shoulder, it sparked.

Sparked.

"Cas?"

Cas nods and he looks weary. Finally, Dean realizes. His shoulders are slumped exhaustedly and he's paler, eyes dimming a bit.

"Holy mother of—Cas!" Dean rushes towards him and hugs him tight. Embraces him like he's the lifeline that's keeping Dean alive. He drags the angel to bed and makes him rest. "Don't you ever—that was…"

Sending me away was a really stupid thing to do, Dean wants to say. He doesn't. He's too surprised and overwhelmed by the fact that Castiel is obviously here and alive, to form any coherent sentence.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"Don't. There's nothing to apologize for."

"I'm—"

"You're alive. I'll worry about everything else tomorrow. And dude, don't you ever do that to me again or I will kill you! What were you thinking?! You could have been killed!"

Castiel shakes his head and sits up so that they're inches from each other. Without thinking, he kisses Dean's lips lightly and promptly vanishes.

Dean stares. He gapes and his hand falls to where he was kissed. He can still feel—what the hell's going on?

There's a knock on the door and he hears his name being called by two people.

"Dean, open up!" That's Sam.

Cas kissed him.

"Dean!" That's Chuck.

Cas is gone. Again.

"Dean!"

Sam knocks the door down, out of breath and very much worried. Dean is still on his bed, staring at the pillow that cushioned Castiel's head, when Sam turns him around.

"Dean? Are you okay?"

"W-what is it, Sammy?" Dean asks, deflects the question. Chuck follows them timidly. He faces the prophet. "What did you see?"

Chuck looks at Sam nervously then back at Dean.

"I—Castiel. He's alive."

Dean nods and turns his back on them.

I know.

TBC/FIN (lemme know?)