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Perdition	By : WinterWolf Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1883 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Characters and Supernatural not mine. I make no money off this.

Chapter List
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AN: The MCD is mentioned in the summary and happens off-screen in this chapter. Also, this story started out on fanfiction.net but the second chapter was too explicit so I'm publishing it here.
Perdition
How it had happened he didn’t know, but he blamed himself regardless. It was his job after all, to protect them. Maybe if he’d said something, figured it out a little sooner, maybe, just maybe, he could have stopped it. That’s what family does, right? Look out for each other? There were too many questions to answer. All of them lead to the same place. He had failed his charges and now that this had happened, there was only one thing left to do.
He would have to find Dean.
Castiel sighed as he looked forlornly out at the park. He could not bring himself to move from that spot. It was a bright and sunny day and the joyous sounds of children playing would have reminded him of all the beautiful things that humanity offered. But there was no comfort in the scene for the angel. He saw none of it.
All he saw was the memory of the hunter turning around while the two of them were on a basic hunt, opening his eyes for a split second. They should have been green, green like a precious gem. But they were not-they were murky, ink black. Impossible, he thought. How could they be so dark? What caused this fall from grace? The smile on that face didn’t belong there-it was wrong, inhuman, and not Dean’s. Where was the Righteous Man and who was this imposter in his place, wearing his skin? But then the green eyes and easy smile were back. This had to be the work of demons but the angel knew the hunter and his brother had anti-possession tattoos. Then this was the work of something big, some high level “pay grade” from the way it happened. Normal demons couldn’t do that. But he had little chance to even react before Dean had vanished before his eyes. Castiel was devastated.
He had failed to save Dean.
When he went to check on the hunter's brother, he could find nothing. The body of Sam Winchester surfaced in a morgue a few days later and Castiel went to see it for himself. Using the FBI badge Dean had made him, he had no trouble gaining access this time. He wanted to believe that it wasn’t him, that this was some kind of cruel joke, that surely God would bring the younger Winchester brother back…
But he failed Sam too and by failing Sam, he had failed Dean again. Everyone knew how much Dean sacrificed for his brother. Castiel prayed the younger Winchester’s soul was in Heaven because it was certainly no longer in his body. Castiel had pulled that body from Hell too-there was no mistaking it or the spinal cord severed by a knife to the back.
They had told him years ago in Heaven that that same lethal injury was what prompted the Righteous Man to sell his soul for his brother. That was the act that would lead to Castiel gripping Dean’s soul tight and raising it from Perdition. He had done it once-he would do it again. And Dean’s presence had been enough to let Sam wrest control from Lucifer; surely the news of his brother’s death would awaken something in Dean and give him the strength to fight back and escape from whatever malevolent force that had stolen him away from under his angel’s gaze. The search for Dean had to continue before it was too late. Shaking off the memories, Castiel left the park in the blink of an eye.
Whilst Dean’s anti-possession tattoo seemed ineffective, his angel warding still was. Castiel searched everywhere he could think of for any sign of his charge. If Castiel was honest with himself, Dean was more than that, or he would be if he could save him. But the trail had gone cold. Looking around the abandoned warehouse he found himself in, Castiel recalled how he and Dean would call each other when they needed to find each other. Knowing it was pointless but daring to hope, Castiel pulled out his cell phone and selected Dean Winchester from his short contact list. He answered on the first ring.
“Dean! It’s Cas. I’m in an abandoned warehouse in Detroit-“
“I’m there now,” a familiar voice behind the angel says.
“Yeah, I get that,” the angel gruffly replies as he turns to face the source of the voice.
“I’m going to hang up now.” The words slip so effortlessly from those full lips.
“Right,” the angel responds automatically, deciding in that moment that he understood Dean’s idea of personal space and that he very much disliked having this memory of Dean turned on him and distorted. He stares at the man who suddenly appeared. To his surprise, the eyes that stare back are green, not black, and they seem to rake over his body as they had countless times before.
“Hi Cas.”
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Perdition