Chapter Text
Deep in the underground bunker sit Sam, Dean, and Cas. Each one was exhausted from the recent hunt they had just completed. It was supposed to be a quick salt and burn, that was until the spirit, much more powerful than the Winchesters and Cas anticipated, hurled the weakened Castiel across the graveyard, knocking him out cold. Thankfully, with the spirit distracted by Castiel, Sam and Dean can put the vengeful spirit to rest.
While Sam puts away the lore and research used to help put down the vengeful spirit, an old dusty journal, belonging to the first Winchester. Old Leather wrapped and engraved with the Name William Winchester. Flipping through the pages of Williams Men of Letters Journal, as he flipped through brittle pages, his breath hitched. Dean, beer in hand, leaned over his shoulder.
"What’s got your panties in a twist, Sammy?" Sam ignored him, his fingers tracing the passage:
"In my darkest hour, I sought salvation beyond God’s grace. The angel fell, and I followed. Blood binds our fates evermore."
Cas, standing stiffly nearby, felt a chill—not the kind humans could sense, but something deep in his grace. He stepped forward, eyes narrowing.
“This isn't any angel. This fallen one, Azrael, was the first that followed shortly after Lucifer.”
Dean straightened, the weight of the name sinking in.
"So what, our great- however many Granddad sold his soul for power?"
"Not just power," Sam whispered. "He made a pact… to ensure our lineage would never die."
The realization hit all three at once. Every resurrection, every miraculous escape, every time death nearly claimed them but didn’t—it wasn’t luck. It was the deal, still binding —they weren’t blessed by Heaven. They were bound by a deceitful contract with a fallen force. Worse still, if the deal remains, it means the Winchesters' lives don’t truly belong to them.
"Then you must find Azrael. If the deal is still in effect…" He hesitated. "I cannot go with you."
Before the boys can blink, the angel is gone, their only cue is the fluttering of feathers. Sam and Dean, confused by the sudden and abrupt departure of their friend, chalk it up to being tired and needing time to replenish his grace.
Castiel touches down in a field surrounded by forest. His grace nearly depleted, he had just enough to get back to the bunker once this was over, but not enough if things went south, and he may have to fight his way out.
“Azrael! Brother! I know you can hear me! I come not to harm you but to ask for answers. I may be the last of our brothers and sisters you want to see, but I wouldn't come to you if I had another way.”
A rustle of wings is heard from behind him. The cold metal bite of an angel blade nips at the back of Castiel's neck.
“Throw your blade away, Castiel,, Azrael growls.
“I cannot, I don't have enough grace to pull it to this plane. I assure you I have no weapons that could harm either of us on my vessel”.
The angel blade is removed from Castiel's neck and disappears. Cas turns around to face the fallen angel. In Front of him stands a tall but well-built man. Fiery red hair tops his head and flops to the sides, parted roughly on the left side.
“What do you want, Cassie?”
Cas flinches at the nickname; only Gabriel and Balthazar call him that. One of which is dead, and the other has been missing from heaven for centuries. Summoning all of his courage and patience, Castiel takes a breath, explaining,
“Azrael, as I formerly said, I do not pose a threat to you in any way. I am sure you see how weak I am.” Cas glanced around to ensure they were alone. “I need answers, brother. Do you recognise the name William Winchester?”
Azrael’s eyes flare up with grace. Castiele flinches, feeling tendrils of grace crack around him. Unsure of whether to continue, He waits till Azrael’s eyes simmer down before continuing.
“I am not here on behalf of —”
“You are no longer an angel of the lord,” Azrael interrupts. “The Mighty Castiel has fallen from grace!” Azrael laughs, long and hard, and suddenly stops. And immediately his grace flairs up, and grace like tendrils of energy crackle through the air. “Brother, give me one good reason I should spare you pathetic little existence after what you did to me?”
Castiel stuttered; the sudden shift in the air put his teeth on edge. If Azrael attacks, Cas would be powerless to stop him. He takes a tentative step back, hoping the Azrael wouldn't notice. Immediately, a hand reaches out and grabs Castiel by the lapels of his Beige trench coat. Jerking him forward so fast that it made his head spin.
“I-I… Azrael, I had orders from heaven, you disobeyed, whether I wanted to or not, I was a garrison leader, and it was my garrison that was ordered to cast you out”. Cas lowered his eyes in regret. “I did not know or believe what I do now. For that I am truly sorry, brother.” Looking back up at Azrael's glowing grace grace-filled eyes, he wondered how Azrael was still so powerful when he was cast out centuries ago? “You betrayed me. I trusted you. Did you ever even question why I was cast out? Castiel, did it ever occur to you that I may have been set up or unfairly cast out?”
Castiel shook his head in sorrow. He never even questioned why Azrael was exiled. Azrael, seeing the Hurt, guilt, and sadness in Castiel's eyes, understood his brother was truly sorry.
“Fear not, little brother. I forgive you. You summoned me here to ask for something. What do you need to know?” Castiel looked up. Shock in his eyes. A hopeful feeling radiates through him.
“When I fell, I fell for humanity. I now reside with the Winchesters, They are the direct descendants of William Winchester. While tidying up around their home, they stumbled upon one of William’s Journals, in which William admits to making a deal with you. William asked for knowledge of the supernatural, and you gave him that knowledge. It didn't say what you asked for in return, only that the Lineage Winchesters are entwined with you forever, keeping them on the path of the supernatural." Castiel paused. This next part would be risky to ask, but he's already in too deep now.
“My question is, what did you gain from the pact? As much as I want to believe you did it out of the goodness of your heart, I highly doubt it. What is your endgame, Azrael?”
A sly smirk spread across Azrael's face., He chuckled.
“That little brother is for me to know, and maybe someday you to find out.”
He chuckled again before stepping back and disappearing with the rustle of feathers to accompany his exit. Confused and frustrated, Castiel returns to the bunker for a much-needed rest.