Again, appologies for the wait. Here it is...
Dean had tried. He had tried his best. Tried not to think, not to feel, anything.
The last few seconds seemed completely surreal, just a pool of heightened emotion that threatened to spill over, so instead transformed in to one big hazed nightmare. As if it wasn't happening to him at all.
He had to reel himself in to support the blade, to step forward enough so as to hit his target. The twisting flames scorched at the hairs on his skin as he inched reluctantly forwards through the burning circle.
Told himself that this would need to be quick, for both their sakes. He didn't want his friend to suffer.
He closed his eyes once more and breathed deeply though his nose.
It was a matter of seconds.
The quick step forwards, the one hand placed firmly on his friends shoulder as he plunged the blade deep in to the angel's chest. Feeling it slice through the muscle, the crack of bone, feeling every inch of his pain as he felt to his knees, Dean following him to the ground.
Castiel's eyes were wide with fear, mouth agape, staring in to Dean's eyes which refused to leave his own, despite the furious amounts of hurt he saw there.
It was a moment before the light emerged, materialising from the cavities of the angel's face.
Dean backed away, averting his gaze from the sheer power of it, as it erupted, firing beams of brilliant, burning white. Exploding from his body until nothing remained. No light, and no life. Empty body falling brokenly to the ground, eyes blackened holes of nothing. The charred imprint of his splendidly feathered wings splayed magnificently on the ground, were the only remnants of the angel left behind.
Dean fell to his knees, barely noticing the cascade of water that had sprung a leak from the ceiling of the warehouse, or the fact that he was now more or less soaked through. In fact it seemed rather fitting, as he gazed remorsefully at his friend's lifeless form. Heavy droplets from above now drenching the last desperate flames of the burning oil.
He didn't hear the screeching and bawling from the adjacent room, nor the hisses and yelps from Crowley as the Holy water from the sprinkler system assaulted his meat suit. His attention only becoming unbound when the water ceased, and a callous hand gripped the hairs at the back of his head, pulling roughly to drag him to his feet.
Dean spat and cursed at the pain that radiated through his scalp as he twisted against the cast iron grip to look the demon in the eyes. He shook himself free, Crowley's hand relenting at the satisfaction of seeing Dean Winchester to utterly broken.
"I did what you asked, now give me back my brother you bastard." He spat.
Crowley hummed his delight.
"Well here's the thing Dean, our arrangement wasn't signed and sealed. I mean, I don't remember you puckering up or…"
"Crowley, Crowley, Crowley."
A voice interrupted the Demon mid venomous flow, and both men turned to the source of the sound.
Dean's eyes widened, lips parting in disbelief.
The sound had come from Castiel's lifeless form, but the voice wasn't that of his friend.
But it was familiar.
The body on the ground began to shimmer and shake, until suddenly, it vanished completely.
Dean's confused gaze wandered searchingly around the warehouse, and he jumped when the voice resurfaced, this time from behind.
He spun around, mouth falling open aghast at what, or whom was standing there. Nonchalantly so.
"Gabriel?" he gasped breathlessly.
And the archangel, smiling, gave a familiar flicker of his eyebrows, before turning to face the demon at Dean's side.
"How the hell did you…?" Crowley started,
"uh huh…well helloooo!? Trickster!" Gabriel sang derisively, pointing a thumb back at himself.
He looked back over at Dean.
"Impressive huh?...if you thought that was good, watch this."
Turning back to Crowley, the demon raised his hands warily, opening his mouth to protest, only to be met with the quick snap of Gabriel's fingers, and then disappearing from sight.
Dean watched in astonishment, albeit relieved to see the back of the twisted little runt. He turned back to face Gabriel, whose smile hadn't faded.
"Dean." He said, and took a theatrical bow, straightening when he saw the stern, puzzled look on the boy's face. He rolled his eyes half-heartedly.
"Ok…hands up. It was me the whole time. Mind you I did try to throw you a few subtle hints, I doubt Crowley would have taken kindly to me whispering 'hey don't worry I'm not really Cas' in your ear".
"And Cas…he's…?" he stammered anxiously.
"Alive. Dean. Cas is fine." Gabriel smiled, this time warmly.
The relief that washed over Dean was instantaneous, and almost painful. He tried to blink away the tears but they had already won, pouring along his cheeks unstoppably.
"Come on Winchester. Let's go find that brother of yours. I swear to God you two are the bane of my existence." Gabriel chuckled lightly.
"S..Sam?! Oh my God…we have to get to him, he's back there in the cells…" Dean started off, spinning on his heels.
"Relax, relax. Bobby and Cas have taken care of everything. Sam is safe, he's okay." Gabriel soothed.
"Where is he?"
Gabriel smiled, he settled a hand on Dean's shoulder, and in a split second delivered them back to Bobby's sitting room.