The world hazed in and out of focus as Castiel lied flat on his back. There was a sharp ringing in his ears that caused him to shut his eyes tight and curl in on himself. He reached up to cup his hands over his ears, but it did little to ease the pain. Those demons really had given their all on this fight. Even though nothing drastic was happening yet, heaven and hell were still having their usual wars and fights with one another. It had been particularly nasty lately. The angels were certain the demons were plotting something particularly heinous, but they didn't quite know the extent of it yet. Demons were just running around left and right like a plague. Heaven was having a hard time maintaining the pest control.
Castiel's encounter with these demons had been on accident though. He had been searching out the Winchesters once more but stumbled upon these fiends instead. The drive to rid the world of Sam Winchester still pumped through him, but that desire grew less and less each day. Honestly, it wasn't a desire. He didn't feel enraged or disgusted like a lot of the other angels at what Sam had done and become. If he admitted it to himself, Sam was still his friend. At least, Castiel hoped so. There shouldn't be hope, however. Castiel was just supposed to hunt Sam down and kill him like his orders stated. Sam was destined to be the Boy King of Hell. That just couldn't happen. Cas knew that, and this seemed to be the only way to ensure it never did. Not to kill Sam but to destroy him and ensure his soul was unable to do anything but diminish, not elevate or descend or stay.
That's what had to happen. It had to be done.
Once the shrill ringing died down some, Castiel could pick up on the mirthful cackles of the demons within the area. He had managed to take out one of them, but three still remained here to torment him. If Castiel didn't recover soon, it wouldn't be long before one of them retrieved the sword out of his trench coat and kill him with it. It surprised even Castiel when he realized a sort of ease settled in the back of his mind at that thought. The thought that maybe at that point it would be easier. He wouldn't have to choose after all on what was right and what was wrong. Of course, it was too easy of a way out and too much of a needless and ridiculous ease however. Castiel had sought God so many times, asking for answers. Each time only silence replied back to him. As Castiel lied on his side in pain, he quietly asked again for help. He didn't ask for assistance for his life. No, he once more asked for guidance on what should happen with Sam's.
Castiel didn't have to look up to know one of the demons was hovering over him. Damn. He was recovering from the earlier blows too slowly. At this rate, he'd be dead in under a minute. Before either the demon or the angel could make a move, a third party beat them to it. Suddenly, that demon was flung across the parking lot and slammed up against the wall of the warehouse they were fighting just outside of. Relief temporarily washed over Castiel as the opportunity to let him rest a moment more was given to him. Whoever had arrived, they at least didn't appear to be attacking him just yet. Whether they were ally or enemy, Castiel wasn't sure. It didn't matter at the moment though. He could try to recover further for now.
As he listened to the demons engaging in battle with the newcomer, Castiel shakily climbed to his feet. He didn’t stand for more than a few seconds before he found himself back on the ground again. Whatever that first demon had stabbed him with, it was certainly taking a toll on the angel. It had poisoned him somehow. It was unfortunate that Castiel wasn’t aware enough to try to figure out what was infecting his system. His stomach was twisting into knots. With a cold chill shaking his body, Castiel truly felt utterly sick.
A groan surfaced in his throat when he realized the quietness meant the battle had ceased. It appeared he wasn’t going to be given enough time after all. The sound of approaching footsteps caught Castiel’s attention. Ally or foe? He rolled over onto his back to stare dizzily upward towards the night sky. His surroundings were blurring and refocusing again, so it took him a minute to make out who was standing over him once the newcomer arrived at his side. The man knelt down beside him, an unreadable and solemn expression on his face. Castiel’s vision sharpened then, and he recognized him easily.
However, those usual puppy-dog brown eyes were entirely ink black. The sight of those demonic eyes put Castiel on edge and the will to fight surged through him all over again even though he didn’t have the strength to stand. Sam’s tone was borderline vile when he accused, “You were coming to kill me again.”
If Castiel had been a lesser creature, he would have flinched at the words. About an hour ago, he had actually staked out the motel room the brothers had been staying in. Even though their belongings clearly told Castiel that it belonged to them, neither of the boys had been inside at the time. Dean had gone off to a local bar as usual ritual after a case ended. He seemed to spend more of his time there these days. Sam hadn't been there at the room either. Apparently, he figured Castiel had found their location and was coming after them again like the rest of the angels. To be honest, Castiel would have killed him if Sam had been there. It was obvious Sam knew that too. It was kill or be killed. Maybe that's why Sam had followed after Castiel. If the other demons hadn't showed up, would Sam have tried to kill him instead?
"I was," Castiel slurred, even though it didn't need to be said. They both knew what Castiel's intentions were.
Sam scowled. His eyes seemed blacker then as they narrowed. Castiel could almost hear the fury pumping through his tainted blood. Castiel's breath caught in his throat when he felt an invisible force choking him. It appeared that Castiel received the short stick on this one. There was no use in struggling. With the poison flowing through his body as well as the exhaustion from the earlier fight, Castiel knew there was nothing he could do to prevent Sam from strangling him. As he struggled for air, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. A bright blue-white light began to shine out of his eye sockets and mouth as pain began to knot in his chest.
Just when he was sure Sam would end his life, the force gripping around his neck disappeared suddenly. Castiel curled up on his side as he began to cough uncontrollably, trying to regain his breath. He felt a hand pat around the wounded and bloodied area on his lower back. Apparently, there was something still lodged into his body from the first blow the demons gave. Castiel hadn’t realized this until whatever it was still stuck inside of him was yanked out of his body. He hissed as sparks of pain instantly surged through him but glanced up when he saw Sam fidgeting with a silver and bloody spike that had apparently been in his body only seconds ago.
“What is that?” Castiel questioned, unsure what the thorn was. He had never seen anything like it.
While still moving it around between his fingers, Sam informed, “Melek Zehir.”
It took a minute for Castiel to process the words due to his hazed state, but he eventually mumbled out, “Angel poison.”
“Angel poison,” Sam confirmed before tossing the spike off into the distance.
“How did you know what that was?”
“Because,” Those eyes were still obsidian black when he declared surly, “I made it myself. Somebody had to find a way to slow the God squad down.”
Castiel tensed. Of course it would have been Sam to figure out and create a substance to poison angels. He was to be the Boy King of Hell after all. Slowly twisting and corrupting his soul wasn’t about to cause his intelligence to deteriorate. No, it only meant he could and would use his wit to construct weapons against Castiel and his kind. What other contraptions had he come up with and just how much more was he planning on making? Would it be possible for him to find a way to kill angels without an angel’s sword? The very thought clawed underneath Castiel’s skin as bitterness rolled inside of him. Did Sam have the motive? Was it worse than Castiel thought? Perhaps the garrison had been more right about this situation than he realized.
However, there wasn’t time for Dean’s words from a few days ago and defiance to leave Castiel’s head completely and for the other angels’ wrath to seep in because a few seconds later he found himself being pulled to his feet. One of Sam’s arms wrapped around his waist and allowed the angel to lean into him for support. Castiel wanted to question Sam’s intentions, but he was too dazed for anything more than a hum to escape his lips. The sound seemed to be question enough though because Sam told him quietly, “There could be other demons in the area. Reinforcements. It’s not safe here.”
It didn’t make sense to Castiel as to why Sam was trying to escort him away from where the dead demons lied. Sam was right about it being likely that others could be around, but that didn’t explain why he hadn’t just left Castiel there to be found. He wasn’t about to complain though. His body felt weak from the spreading infection as well as worn out from the beating those demons had given him after being ambushed. Asking more questions seemed insignificant and possibly careless on his behalf for the time being. If Sam really was helping him right now, Castiel was going to accept it no matter how strange he thought it to be. He remembered glancing up at Sam’s profile to see that those eyes that had been blacker than the night earlier were now a soft hazel just before Castiel lost consciousness.