Chapter Text
Blue eyes opened, staring up at the sky. His limbs felt like lead. His legs ached. His heart was thumping in his chest. Sweat was starting to form on his brow. This tan trench coat that he always wore was sticking to his skin. These feelings were foreign to him. He slowly rose from the muddy forest floor. He felt the weight of the world. Defeated he stared toward the ground then the sky. He felt the gravity of the universe. His heart began to beat faster and pained breaths rose from inside him. He felt like his body was attacking him. His mind flashed to the events that had just happened moments ago.
Desperately, he pulled off his trenchcoat trying to get cool, hoping that some how it would help. His eyes started to pool with tears. Castiel buckled under the weight of the world, he saw flames falling from the sky. He fell to his knees in shock. He wasn’t dreaming. It was true. He’d ruined the world. He’d brought heaven’s downfall. He had fallen. Broken and sobbing, he cried out in agony. He used his filthy muddy forearm to clear his eyes from the tears spilling out of his eyes and his soul. It wasn’t any use.
This unbearable grief wouldn’t stop. He was no longer an angel but he could still hear their voices and screams as some of his brethren smoked out and burnt to death and feel as the angels collectively became one to gravity. The world around him fell apart, piece by piece. He caused this, he’d done it. He punched into the ground uselessly as a guilt like anger rose inside of him. It was hopeless. There was nothing he could do now. Absolutely nothing. His heart felt empty and his soul was in unbearable pain. He just wanted the screaming to stop. He felt cursed. Metatron hadn’t destroyed everything about him that made him an angel, he’d only made him human. Beaten and broken, Castiel looked down, desperately praying to a god he’d believed was long gone, that Dean and Sam had made it alright. That they were alive and somehow wouldn’t hate him as much as he now hated himself.
Sam wasn’t moving. Dean shook him and called out to him desperately. Sam looked so pale and still. He ran a hand against Sam’s pale face, he was cold. So cold. Dean had to do something. He had to save him. His younger brother, his Sammy, looking so lifeless. He was so broken. His heart beat slowly trying to figure out what to do. His hands were clammy and cold sweat was covering his body. He had to do something. Hoping desperately for a response. He called out “Cas!” Minutes passed by. Castiel wasn’t coming. Was Cas dead? No, he couldn’t think like that. His eyes were starting to pool with tears. How had this come to happen, why his brother? Just as he was about to give up hope, Crowley walked out of the church behind him.
“Bullocks. I was sure you’d be long gone by now.” His hands were still bound so there was no way for him to flick or use his demon powers to get away. Somewhere in the fighting the demon trap must have broken.
Dean growled at him angrily, nearly jumping at him. His anger was unchecked and he felt the urge to kill this bastard. This damn son of a bitch was the reason Sam was in this state. Something on Crowley’s face stopped him.
“I can fix him, you know. I don’t think you’ll like it very much though.” Crowley’s face looked like it wore a bit of guilt. Like he actually cared about Sam. His face seemed to show some humanity in it. Dean stared nervously as he rubbed his eyes free of tears.
“What are you going to do?” Dean spat out skeptically.
“I need to give him some of my blood.” Crowley sympathetically looked toward Sam, his mouth turned down in a frown and his eyes nearly brimming with tears. Dean was alarmed and bewildered about seeing him in this state.
“WHAT!” Dean spat out in horror.
“Look, Sam still is part demon, though it’s only traces. Castiel cleared him from most of his symptoms, but that part of him is still there. I could feel it in his blood.” He took a step closer. “If I can transfuse some of the blood back into him then he’s got a chance of recovering.” He was barely a step or two from Dean and Sam. “You know I’m right.”
“That’s some shit.” Dean hissed. “Let me guess you want to make a deal that will end in us being screwed in the end.”
“No deal. I’m just offering.” Crowley glanced sadly toward Sam’s slowly growing lifeless body. “We don’t have much time, decide or take him to a hospital. Either way he lives or he dies.”
Dean took a deep breath. He knew in his heart he didn’t have any other options at this rate, Sam would be worse off once they reached the hospital.
“Fine. Do it.” Dean reached over and readjusted the handcuffs so that they were positioned in front of Crowley instead of behind. He then took a step away from Sam giving Crowley some space to do what he needed. Crowley brought out a knife and slit into his arm holding it above Sam’s face. His blood dripped out of his arm and onto Sam’s face. He dropped the knife and used his other hand to open Sam’s mouth. Blood spilled from Crowley’s arm into Sam’s mouth. Suddenly as if something else possessed Sam, his eyes opened pitch black and he his mouth closed around the Crowley’s open vein, drinking in much of the blood.
Moments passed, Sam began to look better. His eyes slowly changed back to normal, he stopped drinking and he sank back into the car in a fainted state. Crowley leaned against the door with his head spinning. He chuckled a little.
“Guess he was starving,” He joked. Dean growled at him then checked Sam’s vitals. His heartbeat had returned to normal. He wasn’t sure what effect this would have on Sam later on. He just accepted the fact that Sam would be alright. He grabbed Crowley’s arm and pulled him to the trunk.
“In,” he said in one word. Crowley’s eyes were focused on something else in the sky.
“What in god’s earth is that?” He stared up. Dean turned his head to see fireballs falling from the sky. Some of them looked like there was something being torn off them. Dean’s stomach dropped. He realised that Castiel had failed. He wasn’t sure what was falling at this moment, but he knew in his gut that Castiel was not okay. His world was beginning to shatter again. One moment at a time he tried to hide his feelings and make his face void of emotion. It was failing.
‘Cas.’ He said the name in his head. ‘Please be alright, please,’ he begged to an unknown force in the universe he had never believed in.
“They’re Angels. They are falling, someone has closed heaven.” Crowley frowned. Things were going to go to hell over the next few days. Now that he was a prisoner of the Winchesters, there was nothing he could do.
Dean grabbed a black tarp from the trunk and made a makeshift head covering and put the cuffs back behind Crowley’s back. He shoved the king of Hell in his trunk. Slamming it shut, he took one more glance to the sky before packing the unconscious Sam into the car. The angels were still falling. His heart yearned to know if Cas was okay. Dean needed to get them all somewhere safe. No doubt, with the angels falling, someone would come looking for him, the vessel of Michael. They were not soon to forget that he’d sent Michael to the pit and stopped the apocalypse. In essence, all of team free will was in danger. He could feel it. The engine of his baby roared as he charged down the road. Maybe after a few hours on the road he’d find somewhere to sleep, maybe he could stop feeling the aching in his heart.
The newly human, Castiel tried to put himself back together. His throat burnt with thirst, and his clothes were filthy. He needed to get moving or he wouldn’t survive much longer. He knew human basics. He needed to get out of this forest, but he wasn’t really sure where he was to begin with. He could just barely make out the sound of cars to the east of him. Perhaps there was a highway nearby. Perhaps he’d be able to get a ride. Cas took a deep breath and tried to shut off his feelings, to no avail. Damn it, he hated being human. He hated feeling. He hated gravity and he hated mud. He felt alone and a void was filling every inch of his heart. Somehow his guilt kept him walking step by step, foot by foot, yard by yard. Soon he saw familiar headlights of passing vehicles. He ran onto the side of the road, spooking a man in a truck and causing him to swerve then stop, which caused another car to come to a sudden halt. The stop was causing quite a bit of traffic behind it. The gruffy man in the truck spotted Castiel. He saw a man who needed help, as a god loving man. He just felt the need to help him. He got out of the truck ignoring the angry honks of the person behind him.
“Dude, are you alright?” He asked with a concerned look on his face.
“I’m a bit lost. ” Castiel stated.
“Would you like a ride?” The man asked.
“I’d usually fly but I don’t have wings anymore.” Castiel frowned with a nod. “I’d appreciate the ride.”
“Sure you did.” He just had to pick up one of the crazies, he thought. Well, the motel was just a few exits away, so it wasn’t a huge problem.
“Hop in.” He motioned for Castiel to sit in the passenger seat. Castiel nodded and did just that. The man hopped back into the truck, and the two set off toward the motel. Castiel reached into his pocket finding Jimmy’s wallet, which had some money in it. He hoped it was enough.
The road was starting to blur, but Dean refused to sleep. Sam still hadn’t awoken, though luckily he was breathing normally as if sleeping. Dean tried to maintain his focus on the road. His heart wanted to keep moving and not stop until they reached the bunker where they’d all be safe. Where he could detain Crowley. The place where he could ensure that his brother would be safe. Dean hoped that Kevin was okay as well. He had tried to give him a phone call a few hours ago but it only went to voicemail. His mind was becoming so distracted that it was hard to focus on the road. With a sigh, he pulled into the nearest motel that he could find.
Everything about this place reeked of filth. There were cracks in the walls. Dean pulled into one of the empty parking spots. The lights were flickering. He could tell this was an electrical problem because the flickering went with the wind. He turned off the car and with a last glance at Sam, he exited the car slamming the door behind him. He walked toward the open sign and flung open the door. The caretaker was sitting there watching the news on a tv hanging from the wall. Dean turned his head to look at the headline. It was a scene of the angels falling but it read ‘Global Meteor Shower’.
Great. Dean thought as he grunted to get the attention of the caretaker. He turned his head with his eyebrows raised. Given the state of this place he had not seen many people lately.
“I’ll take a room.” Dean pulled out his wallet and slammed his card on the counter. The caretaker took the card.
“How many beds do you want?” He asked typing his credit information into a computer.
“Two queens.” Dean replied, turning to the news report once again. Angels were visibly falling in England, then China, Russia and even New Zealand. Dean turned back to the caretaker. The man handed back his card and reached over to the wall behind him for a key. Dean noted that there were only one other key besides his that was taken. He held out his hand for the key.
“Thanks.” He grinned sarcastically as the key dropped into his hand. He flipped his card into his wallet and his wallet into his jacket. He walked back to the car. Sam hadn't moved. His frown returned as he dragged unconscious Sam to room 4. His anger returned as he sat in a chair most of the night and stared at his brother. The drinking started sometime near dawn.