Disclaimer- Supernatural belongs to Kripke and whoever he his rights with.
Note-This is a sequel to the oneshot "Dean's Weird Day." Reading it first will make this one make more sense.
Castiel did not like humans.
They were loud and uncivilized. They also tended to emit the strangest odors. But being an Angel of the Lord meant that Castiel was willing to rise to all occasions, even when it meant descending to deal with lesser beings.
"Go screw yourself."
Castiel tilted his head, considering the words. He presumed that the phrase itself was a common human colloquialism because in the order presented they failed to make logical sense. The act of screwing involved turning an object that had a metallic thread along its outer edges and Castiel's vessel possessed no such thing and could was not eligible to be screwed, never mind able to somehow perform the task upon himself.
Humans were strange creatures and Dean Winchester was no exception.
But strange or not, Heaven its self had laid a path before Dean and it was Castiel's sacred duty to ensure that he followed it. "Did you locate the Boy King?"
Dean took a step forward. Castiel supposed that it was an attempt to look threatening by enforcing proximity. His supposition was supported by Dean's aggressive tone. "Oh, I found him, all right. Him and his little army."
Castiel looked over his charge again, looking for a source of Dean's ire. It was not until he spotted the carefully wrapped bandages around each wrist that Castiel located the problem. "You were injured by them."
Dean snorted and held up a wrist. "This? I did it to myself. They didn't even threaten me."
"You slew them before they could speak?" It was an impressive feat that required considerable skill. Demons were notorious for talking during battle in an attempt to distract their opponent.
Dean growled. "I didn't "slay" anyone."
Castiel stared at Dean. "I do not understand. You said that you located the Boy King. You said that they were no threat. Did you not engage in conflict?"
"They let me go."
Castiel's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Such a move would only be logical in the planning of a trap. More information was required. "Explain."
Dean stepped back, shrugging. "There isn't anything to say. I came. I got my ass kicked. I got sent on my merry way." He held up a plastic container filled with what appeared to be baked goods. "They even gave me cookies."
If Castiel were mortal he would have had a stress headache. Events were proceeding down an unexpected path. "You were supposed to eliminate the threat."
Dean reached into the container. "No," he gestured with a cookie. "I was supposed to find them. Been there, done that."
"That was not the spirit of the order."
"Screw the order. And screw you too."
Castiel narrowed his eyes. He was a messenger of Heaven. He was not to be so cavalierly disrespected. "You will return and perform the task as advised."
In a single stride Castiel was in Dean's personal space. He grasped the mortal by the throat and lifted until the man's legs dangled in the air. Cookies clattered to the floor. "Listen human," he hissed in disdain. "You have been appointed a task by Heaven. You will either perform your task as directed or you will perish."
"Thought… angels were…supposed to be…nice," Dean choked out.
Foolish human. Castiel tightened his grip. "Angels are warriors for the Lord. We are here to fight for His creations, not serve them. You will learn your role or I will cast you into damnation."
Dean Winchester's eyes narrowed and Castiel had his answer. The slaying of the chosen of Heaven was frowned upon, but such disobedience made it necessary on occasion. It was unlikely that Dean would be willing to ignore the will of Heaven after being exposed to the horrors of Hell. While it was regrettable to cast the young man into the arms of demons it was essential that Dean Winchester learned what it was he was protecting the world from. Nothing sharpened realization like personal experience.
Castiel closed his eyes and concentrated while Dean struggled ineffectually in his grip. The human's struggles weakened as his limited air supply was depleted. It would only take seconds for the development of tissue damage and minutes for that condition to become fatal. In that time the spell that Castiel was weaving would latch onto Dean Winchester's soul, sending it to perdition.
A day should be enough to alter Dean's opinions. If he remained stubborn after his resurrection Castiel would merely send him back until the lesson was learned.
In his hand Dean continued to struggle, his pathetic attempts at escape doing nothing to weaken Castiel's grasp. Humans who did not know their place were contemptible.
"Let him go!"
Castiel turned to the voice, surprised by the human who had forcibly entered the room. No matter. He would deal with the ramifications of the young man after Dean was banished. Judging by the loosening of Dean's grip it would not be a long wait.
Then Castiel was in pain. It was a surprising sensation, to say the least. No wonder humans found it unpleasant. It was both hot and cold and the contradictory sensory information impaired the function of his vessel. It was most frustrating. Until his body began to respond he could do nothing but listen.
Footsteps crossed the room as a harsh cough erupted from the floor. It was accompanied by a moan. Castiel had done insufficient damage. It seemed as though Winchester had not even been rendered unconscious. How upsetting.
"Sam?" Dean also seemed to be acquainted with the human who had come to his aid.
"Hey Dean," the tone that had earlier been threatening was now soft. "We need to get out of here." Naïve. It did not matter where they were. Castiel would be able to track them.
"Okay." There was the scuffling of movement as this Sam pulled Dean from the floor. "Why are you here?"
The footsteps moved away from Castiel. "You were in trouble."
"I dropped my cookies." It was truly bizarre what humans prioritized.
"We'll get you more. Until then take this. It will keep you safe."
"'Kay." Now if only Dean was so obedient with Castiel then further unpleasantness would not have been necessary.
"Easy does it." There was a rattling. Castiel could only presume that they were walking over the remains of the door. His suspicions were affirmed as the voices drifted away, leaving him in his broken vessel.
He held patience as he waited for the body to heal itself by attempting to ascertain how exactly his vessel had been damaged. Pain and paralysis were difficult to inflict upon an angel. Dean's acquaintance must be a Hunter, for only they and demons would ever have need to stop an angel. After Castiel damned Dean he would question Sam on his method. The information would be invaluable to have.
By the time Castiel regained use of his vessel he had already planned out the method of Sam's inquisition. It would not be pleasant.
He stood, examining the room and studying the distance he was thrown, looking for traces of the spell work that had been involved.
Finding none he closed his eyes, listening for Dean's movement. His brow furrowed.
He tried again, sending his awareness along further. He searched until the ties between his vessel and his form threatened to break and still he turned up nothing. Dean had somehow managed to conceal himself from detection.
Castiel did not like humans at all.