Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nada / Sarah McLachlan lyrics are not mine
Summary: And Cas is so tired of struggling to keep up this façade.
Spoilers: Season 4 Episode 21
Warning: Extreme angst
Notes: So the lyrics to the Sarah McLachlan song "Dirty Little Secret" are in italics between sections of this story. I strongly recommend you listen while reading as it inspired the fic because it fits so perfectly.

If I had the chance love / I would not hesitate / To tell you all things I never said before Don't tell me its too late / Cause I've relied on my illusion / to keep me warm at night / and I've denied in my capacity to love / but I am willing to give up this fight

And Cas is so tired of struggling to keep up this façade. He wants to be done denying the truth that is still held tight to his chest, even as he follows their orders; one warm spot against all the cold that is now the rest of him. Still whispers it to himself in the dead dark of night, when the world is so quite and only the stars blink down at him from the heavens. Even as he lurks beneath the steps in the shadowed basement, feeling lower than dust. Lower than demons. Completing the hateful betrayal that has been forced upon him, he whispers the words. And prays to a God he has never believed in less that when Dean finds out of this that he will ... will what? A snide little voice echoes through his thoughts. Sounding disturbingly like the voice the echoed through hell as he raced to find the righteous man before he broke; mocking him for his efforts and promising that Dean would belong to the pit for eternity.

Forgive you? hmm. You know he won't, not for Sammy. He'll hate you forever and ever and ever. It pauses as Cas forces open the door,

And how sweet, are you praying? He extends out a barely healed wingtip and brushes away the sigils on the floor.

To whom exactly? The handcuffs along the bound man's arms click open.

To the ones who ordered this. The ones on that bind the legs follow.

Oh yes, And he wakes Sam, watches as he sits up. He's never going to look at you again. And then the tainted man is gone.

It's too late, Too late to take it back. And all he wants to do is give up this fight.

Been up all night drinking to drown my sorrows down / But nothing seems to help me since you've gone away

He's been just walking the deserted roads in the backcountry of some random town whose name he does not remember, for hours now. His feet ache and his skin has been frozen by the breeze. But he just cannot bring himself to care. He can only see Dean's face - angry in the yard as he makes him swear an oath he does not want, broken as his brother chokes him and numb all alone on the floor. And it was awful... and entirely his fault. He knows it in every fiber of his being - he forced Dean to agree and freed Sam from his confinement, catalyzing all the events that followed. His heart sinks lower in sorrow, agony pulsing through his veins. He was wrong and Dean will not forgive him.

He fights to regain control but no matter how hard he tries to clear his head; to assure himself it was the will of heaven that he was following and therefore just... he cannot. And suddenly it is all just so much more than he can bear; before he realizes it his body crumbles and a sharp pain resonates in his knees and palms. He's tired and alone so he stays fallen on his knees. Fallen without Dean.

I'm so tired of this town where every tongue is wagging / When every back is turned / They're telling secrets that should never be revealed / There's nothing to be gained from this but disaster.

He does not know how long he plans to stay this way but the sudden sound of a throat clearing pushes him out of his trance. Raising bowed eyes up, the smugly smiling face of his superior comes into view. And oh do the memories burn, this position too familiar and the phantom sounds of whips cracking and skin tearing curl all around him. Zachariah, his very own high inquisitor, he thinks bitterly. The other angel appraises him silently hand then walks closer, tilting up Castiel's chin with a falsely gentle hand.

"I do hope," He drawls lazily...comfortably, though his eyes are harder than stone, " that you are on your knees praying, Castiel." But he does not reply, merely stares – schooling his features into well trained impassivity.

"Hmmm," The other makes a displeased sound and Castiel feels fear curl in his stomach even has he tries to be strong. "Well Castiel, if you are done groveling like a pathetic dog, we have some business to attend to."

Slowly he rises, "Business?"

"Oh yes... we are off to see how your little friend is doing." Malice surrounds Zachariah like a solid wall and this can only end in disaster. And Castiel opens his mouth to ask what exactly is going to occur but before he can, the taller man grabs his arm and together they fade. Only to reappear in the broken suite where Dean has finally moved; pushed himself up against the wall, head in his hands.

Zachariah walks forward and all Castiel can see is the man's back as he begins to speak.

"Hey there Dean."

When Dean finally looks up, there is hate and pain evident in his tired eyes and he does not even blink, "Go the hell away," And the voice, Dean's rich deep soothing voice is hoarse and shattered like every word is painful. All Cas wants to do is take him in his arms – try to give him some kind of comfort. But he cannot, so he bites his lip and waits for this to play out.

Innocently the answer is uttered, "Oh come now, there is no reason to behave like this. Not when we came to apologize. I mean the whole thing just turned out to be one big mess... we never imag-"

And now they have the sitting man's attention and Castiel realizes with a gut wrenching jolt that Zachariah is actually going to tell Dean his secret. He is going to reveal everything and there is nothing the angel can do to stop him. He has to stand quietly in the background as his own tragedy plays out. Please, he begs silently. Please, please do not do this... please. But outwardly makes no sound.

"What turned out to be a big mess?" The emerald eyes are now narrowed suspiciously, and the sitting body has gone rigid with anger.

"Why Sammy, of course. Letting him out in retrosp- " The falsly apologetic tone now holds shades of smugness as Dean springs to his feet, fists clenched.

"You LET him out!!" He half yells - half growls at Zachariah and there is violence in his eyes; Castiel flinches as hears it. He does not know if he will be able to stand this. "You fucking let him out so he could drink more goddamn demon's blood. So he could turn... so he could....How could you fucking do that, what the he- "

"Oh no, not me." There is a definite smirk to the words now.

"Then what are you fucking talking about?" Dean hisses, and the angel knows what is next. Can see how this will play out and it takes every last bit of willpower to stay and stand the consequences of his actions. But he owes the other man that because it is his fault and he will suffer what he must.

Still it is surreal when Zachariah shrugs his shoulders and turns to glance exaggeratedly at him. Then watching as Dean follows his gaze and the pieces slowly thud into place. For a second there is a gaze of suspended disbelief but it is instantly gone as the man's jaw tightens, his lips fall into a flat straight line and his eyes pierce like swords. When he speaks again it is in a tone of dangerous quiet anger, barely contained.

"Get out of my sight. And don't fucking come back or I swear to God I will not be responsible for my actions."

"Dean," He has to explain, to say that he had no choice that they threatened to hurt Dean and throw him back to hell. That he could not let that happen, but he is not allowed to say those things. He has been forbidden and breaking those rules will simply result in the consequences occurring all the same. "Please ...I..." He starts not knowing what it is exactly he plans on saying.

But Dean has turned his back on them, " Get OUT, just fucking get OUT and leave me the hell alone. Now. Leave Castiel."

His full name... Dean has not called him that since their first meetings and its use causes a surge of terrible anguish to course through him. So he disappears just as Dean says... wants,

Disaster.

Heres a good one / Did you hear about my friend / Hes embarrassed to be seen now / Cause we all know his sins

He has nothing left. His brothers do not acknowledge him accept to threaten and order, and now he has lost Dean too. All his sins, his treacheries are laid bare, out in the open. He has tried to please everyone but in the end he has only managed to make everything so much worse. He longs to return... to beg Dean to listen, to understand, to love him once more. But that would be selfish; he would be risking harm to the other because he cannot bear his own burdens.

So wearily he walks, not bothering to replenish his strength with his angelic powers. He crosses mountains and lakes, houses and gardens... walks until he can feel nothing except the weariness in his muscles and the pain in his heart which nothing can mask. And finally he collapses under a tree in some forsaken bit of land, sleep taking his exhausted body.

If I had the chance love I would not hesitate To tell you all things I never said before Dont tell me its too late Cause Ive relied on my illusion to keep me warm at night and Ive denied in my capacity to love But I am willing to give up this fight

And for the first time in his long existence, Castiel dreams. He dreams of blue skies and open roads. Of warm hands caressing his body and arms holding him tightly, possessively. Of "Cas" and pie and swings in a park. He dreams of Dean. He dreams of love.

Oh I am willing to give up this fight