Things to keep in mind: The cover for this story is directly related to this chapter specifically...

SPECIAL THANKS TO THE FOLLOWING:

FireChildSlytherin5

Merlin-Herondale (For reminding me about this)

and that random guest that reviewed that one day (you warmed my heart)

~I Will Always Be With You~

Previously:

There was a brief second where time seemed to stop, the blond-haired angel catching his eyes for a second, pleading almost, right before he began plummeting to towards the ground

Silver wings glinted in the sky as they spread out below the angel who was desperately trying to slow his plummeting descent, eyes wild as the ground slowly became closer and closer.

Castiel didn't have a chance to think about it, and as the angel picked up speed, getting closer and closer to the ground, Castiel rushed forward, hoping to be able to reach him before it was too late, yet having no idea of what he would do once he got there. His lessons with Gabriel, while they had been helpful, only given him the ability to barely keep himself in the sky, much less support the both of them.

The air seemed to hang in between them as a thick fog, even though it was clear as human made glass. the scene before him seemed to be some kind of sick play out of Lucifers fall, the frustrated angel wounded and falling, ever falling, wings spread out around him until he finally collided with the ground and was caged eternally in hell. Only this time the angel hadn't sinned against god and led a revolt, a rain of thousands of falling angels filling the skies around him, some with blades still stuck in them, some just corpse, lifeless and limp to be played with by the rushing air like rag-dolls.

The sliver-winged angel let out a shriek as some of his feathers began to rip off from the sheer wind power on his yet weak down feathers, even some of the young and still growing metallic flight feathers ripping off in the process, little bursts of blood following as each feather tore itself free. Small fluffy and blood stained feathers floating down in his wake.

Castiel leaped into the air, wings pressed firmly against his back as he neared the Blond angel, cutting through the air like a bullet, the other angel now only about 20 feet above him.

Castiel didn't know what to do. This had never happened before, he had never been faced with this. he had never had to fly when it mattered, never had to do it under pressure. Someone was counting on him. a pit formed in his stomach. What really scared him though was that this falling angel could have so easily been him.

Gabriel had only just started teaching him to use his wings properly, how to manipulate the huge masses and feathers so the weight would work for him and not against him. He could barely do a dive and catch himself before he hit the ground, and even then, Big-brother Gabriel had been their to catch him. Now he had to catch someone else. Someone moving fast.

As Castiel ascended into the air he pushed out his wings, stretching them and shifting the feathers in the way that he had been told, bending them in the wind, adrenaline racing through his body. All the while in his head he was desperately calling for Micheal, Gabriel, anyone who would answer. Heck, he was even calling Zachariah, though he knew that no one would answer in time. he had to do this himself.

His blackish grey wings flapped against the wind, harshly contrasting against the bright sky, Castiel praying to God that he wouldn't fall, his accent slowed as he tried to stop midair under the other angle, arms shaking as he tried to even his flight out, wings aching at the unfamiliar strain.

Cas's heart stopped for a second as he began to fall down, wings beating frantically as the ground got closer and closer, unable to keep himself in the air. But it didn't matter, because as Cas wasn't paying attention, trying in futile to stay his descent, the angle above him who was also trying desperately to control his plunge slammed into him, pain bursting in Castiel's head and chest as the other angel collided with him, the world distorting as it blended together, disorientation covering him, not knowing if he was tumbling, rolling, or even falling.

He heard the other angel cry out from what seemed like miles away, his head swimming and his stomach dropping as he made the horrifying realization that he was going to collide with the ground, no way to slow or feather his descent.

Castiel made a split second decision as he groped wildly for the other angel, now laying somewhat atop of him as they fell. His hand connected with the soft down feathers of an angel's wing that was not his own, and he pulled. He hoped that the other angel was atop of him, at least it felt like it, but it was too hard to tell with his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he tried to shield the other angel, wrapping his arms around the terrified body. Then they collided with the ground.

The pain hit Castiel like a brick wall, the crack of bones not even registering in his ears as a pain filled and shrill angel cry cut through the air that he wouldn't realize until later had echoed from his own mouth, its pitch ear breaking, shattering.

The impact sent his head snapping back where it collided sharply with the ground as the weight of the other angel pressed down on him, a twin screech splitting the air.

It didn't stop there either.

They slid. Along the ground, skin was rent and hair, feathers, everything that could be torn from his small body was. He couldn't see, his whole world was an explosion of white and pain, red and black. He couldn't sense anything, couldn't feel anything other than that one sense. His wings, his back, his arm...the warm trickle down his skin. And moving. Moaning.

The other angel. Where was the other angel?

He couldn't tell anything, couldn't see anything, couldn't even open his eyes. He had to find him. It was his job now, the only thing he could do. But everything hurt so much.

And he tried so hard. He did. His body wouldn't listen. It was frustration. He wanted to help, he wanted to do something, he truly did, but he couldn't. It seemed to be happening a lot lately. The only thing he didn't expect to happen was to feel a small hand, trembling and wet, gripping his own weakly as he lay still, cheek burning and resting against the ground, wings bent and feathers twisted bellow him, limbs splayed and hair tossed, blood no doubt covering him, trying desperately to find something to cling to through the pain, and recognizing an ally, someone who had tried to save him, even though he had failed in one aspect, he had succeeded in another. The thought comforted him as small harsh sobs filled the air.

His mind was trying to work out what was going on, but he was confused and he thought that he kept hearing feathers rustling, voices, his mind was slow and sluggish. Once he even thought he heard demons. It wasn't long until he felt sleep descending upon him, blank and endless in its expanse, wrapping him in a cold dark blanket and sending him into oblivion.

Awareness came in waves. It was strange, for he had always thought that when he slept, and REALLY slept, he would be greeted by wakefulness immediately, instantly aware, but not like this. It seemed wrong in a way, strange, this wasn't supposed to happen, angels werent supposed to feel this.

His head. What was wrong with his head? Or his wings, or even his whole body for that matter. Pain. Pain was everywhere. He ached everywhere. He couldn't tell, but he felt like he was still laying on the ground, head bent awkwardly to the side and something warm that didn't feel like saliva trickling out of his mouth.

He had to stop himself from jerking when a roaring sound filled his ears. he couldn't tell, but it sounded like the course of a thousand angels, raising their voices in righteous indignation against some sinner gone too far, some betrayal left unpunished. Or, actually, as it turned out, one angel for that matter.

He didn't know it then, but Gabriel was very loud when upset. Well...when he wasn't using humor to coat over his anger that was.

Like a diva in many ways, when Gabriel was uncomfortable, he wasn't afraid to let the world know it. He wasn't really a wimp, Cas would find out later, and if the situation called for it, he could be quite as a mouse. But now he was trying to be loud.

Castiel slowly pushed his eyes open against a strange stickiness that been forming in his sleep and now held his eyelids together like plaster. What was that noise? He had to figure out what it was coming from.

Righteous anger, horror, whatever it was. That was what he saw.

Though a haze of red, a blur of white, bloodied feathers slowly making their way to the ground, he saw light. Not just the holy brightness from the God created orb that was represented on this plane of existence, in this part of heaven, but holy and radiating light, piercing light. Pure anger and worry and a thousand different emotions at once.

And he would have been terrified too, had he not been in so much pain.

It wasn't long before another light joined the mix, and he still couldn't see, not really, but even if he was half blind, the holy light imprints still remained.

Their harshness, their emotion, made him feel like he was going to hurl, yet at the same time, their mere presence had him being lulled in a comforting way. The brush of an older brothers soft pure feathers against his skin, yet in a less physical way. He would say he felt happy, but that would be impossible with what was currently happening to and around him. Maybe it was...peace..no...calm...

The two lights, presences, they were one in the same yet different beings entirely. They shared the same origin, they were of the same essence, yet they both had completely different manners about them. One was strict, harsh yet loving, and serious, the light burning constant and commanding, demanding respect and obedience.

The other, was slightly softer in its burn but no less bright. It was more... playful...the flame danced around yet never faltered, never flickered or failed. It was firm, but instead of demanding it STRONGLY suggested..almost in a scary way. (See there? That was a joke..I'm SOOO funny)

The demanding one was trying to calm the other, placate it as it burned circles in a blind rage, yet this all happened in what may have only been a second, because the real thing that needed attention was still lying not moving on the ground.

There were moments, brief glimpses into a life like these, that made Castiel question what it really was to be loved. His brothers, they claimed that just being here was a symbol of Gods love for his children, it was supposed to always be there, always comforting, but he had still felt empty. Now though, even though his pain, the comforting hands seemed to fill that hole, if only briefly.

And now, laying on the ground, even clouded as his mind was, he could sense, he could feel his brothers kneeling down beside him, both of them. Warm hands were on his face and somehow he knew that they belonged to Micheal, funneling strength into him before he heard what could have been words, but to him sounded muffled and far away. The hands were gone, and Castiel realized that he missed them. the demanding presence, or maybe now it was Micheal, moved away, yet the other one remained

It was seconds only, or at least what his body could register as seconds but might as well have been minutes with the way he kept drifting in out of reality, a thick fog still over his senses before he was being pulled into his brothers warm embrace. The felling was heavenly (No pun intended) and he could have sworn later that he felt soft yet powerful wings wrapping around his trembling body and pulling him closer to the source of heat on his rapidly cooling body.

"Must you always get into trouble little one?" Castiel could have sworn he heard the whispered voice near his ear, soft and loving and concerned. A chin was resting in his hair and arms were tightening around him.

He could still sense the grace pulsating underneath, so unique in all it's forms yet blessedly wonderful all the same joining with the ebb and flow of his own, connecting the as the pain began to lessen slightly.

Somewhere to what may very well have been his right, Micheal was doing much the same thing with the other injured angel, white meeting against Silver and creating what anyone else would have considered a beautiful picture as he held his small brother against the setting sun, casting long shadows on the clouds in front of them.

Micheal was desperately calling out to his other brothers in heaven, telling them to prepare a bed in the church where they took the other angels for healing, the commands being carried out in the blink of an eye, all the while Micheal and Gabriel keeping their grace connected to the young ones, offering any comfort and healing that they could.

It wasn't long as Castiel lay there, with the combined efforts of blood loss and the healing yet warm and calming embrace of his brother's arm that his vision began to darken, his eyes that he wasnt quite clear on the point of if they were open or not, drifting closed as his body relaxed, the last images of falling feathers fading away, the pain still a dull ache in the background. Then he knew no more.

Angel memory's were a weird thing castiel decided. He could remember and recite every event since his creation with distinc clarity of if they were just happining but he couldn't remember the emotion. At least in some cases. Maybe it was because angels wernt supposed to have emotion because it was wrong. At least that's what Zachariah had always told him, but Gabriel showed tons of emotion, and micheal would always show that he cared, at least some of the time. Still though all the angels looked up to them as role models even as they resented emotion and feeling for the son it caused.
He thought maybe that if god hadnt wanted them to have emotion, they they would NEVER be able to remember it. But castiel could remember that day. He could remember it perfectly.
He remembered waking up face first on a bed, face buried in a pillow as his body arched up with a scream of pure agony at his lips. He remembered being on fire.

Next time on this thingy: He remembered waking up face first on a bed, face buried in a pillow as his body arched up with a scream of pure agony at his lips. He remembered being on fire.

A/N: Hey guys! So so so sorry for not updating in...what has it been? 2 1/2 months? sorry about that, school and all. I decided to take a break from the story after mid terms because of all the work we were getting and I had planned a chapter on my b-day, but then finals were approaching...so yeah...

anyways, the flashback should be over next chapter, but I wanted to use this opportunity to develop a further relationship between Cas, Balthy, and Micheal, or 'Feather Butt' as he shall soon lovingly be called.

If you guys have any suggestions for the story, feel free to ask. To those of you who asked, yes, Sam and Dean will be making an appearance I had planned it for this chapter, but it clearly didn't work out.

Also, I'm finally caught up with the SPN epis, and all I have to say it; Why cant Cas catch a break? Hes barley back on the show and already there's a nefarious story line with him that everyone knows if going to lead to a massive betrayal/misunderstanding between him and dean that's gonna last for half a season.

P.S. My title sucks, suggestions are appreciated

Anyways, im done ranting. Please R&R, and if you don't see me, HAVE A VERY MERRY SUPERNATURAL CHRISTMAS!