Author's Note: I couldn't resist posting Castiel's side of the story, especially since I got a lot of questions about what he was doing and what was going on. Hopefully, this will help clear up any confusion. Enjoy!

"Rules are for children. This is war, and in war the only crime is to lose."

― Joe Abercrombie

Heaven is pure.

Heaven is orderly.

Heaven is light.

These three tenants are what his life consists of. Ever since he came into existence, he has learned about the beauty of Heaven and how, if he's worthy, he will be chosen to protect it. He will lay down his life for it without hesitation. Whatever the will of Heaven is, he will achieve it. Whatever his superiors ask of him, he will do it without question.

For the glory of Heaven and the honor of his Father, Castiel will serve admirably.

"Castiel."

He stands, the voice coming from somewhere unknown, surrounding him like an embrace. This is the way Heaven works, all of the angels connected together, working towards achieving their ultimate goal together.

Whatever that is, Castiel knows not nor does he need to know. All that matters is that Heaven succeeds.

"I am ready." He's been preparing for this moment all his life, the chance for himself to prove himself to his superiors, to show that he can protect and enhance Heaven.

"Then, begin." His superior commands.

In a flutter of wings, Castiel vanishes.

Earth is stunning.

Their Father's creation is beautiful, with a cerulean sky that seems to stretch on for an eternity with dollops of fluffy clouds. The sun warms his vessel's skin and as he allows himself to stand in the grassy field of the park, a small smile graces his lips.

This surely must be paradise for his Father's creations.

"Get out of the road, you fucking idiot!" Someone shouts as a car rushes by.

Humans, on the other hand, are bizarre.

The people are rude and pushy, brushing past the angel with no apology, no word of kindness. He moves on the sidewalk and tries to form an opinion of them. Crossing the street, he's cursed at and quickly, his disdain for his Father's creatures grows. Nowhere is anyone giving thanks for their lives; nowhere is anyone caring for the Earth as they should.

Humans are selfish.

If it were in his power, he would smite some of them. The ensuing panic would bring them back to the side of righteousness. Fear is the best teacher for creatures such as these. But, he has a mission and he must achieve it. If he did commendably, perhaps then, Heaven would allow him the privilege of schooling the humans.

Today, though, he has a test to conduct.

"Sam, dude, look!" The older brother smirks, pointing towards the diner's menu. "Twenty different kinds of pie." He chuckles. "Twenty, Sam."

The youngest rolls his eyes and sighs.

"Your arteries, man." Then softer, "Wait, they've got peppermint?"

The eldest beams, chuckling.

Castiel watches from the counter, invisible to everyone around him, and goes over the information he's obtained. The older brother—Dean—is the future vessel of Michael, the future savior of the world and Heaven. The younger—Sam—is Lucifer's chosen vessel and an abomination, though he doesn't know it yet. Demon blood courses through his veins, begging to be purged and spilt on the soil of the Earth.

The angel's fingers brush by the hilt of his sword. It would be too easy—child's play really—to cut down the monster before his eyes. Dean wouldn't be able to overpower him. No earthly thing could stop him.

One strike and it would be over.

Yet, it isn't his place to make that choice.

"Hey, Sam, cherry or apple?" The older one's eyes lock onto the menu, scanning the list with an intensity not usually reserved for a list of pies.

"Try something new." Sam urges.

"Can't mess with the classics though." Dean muses and Castiel relaxes somewhat, observing the two.

The mission is simple—find the easiest way to set the Apocalypse rolling. Test Michael's vessel and see the fastest way to make him shatter. Once that is achieved, report back his findings to Heaven and his superiors will best determine the way to proceed.

In other words, break Dean Winchester's spirit.

Castiel smirks.

This should be interesting.

The test has been conducted before on Dean.

A year ago, another angel had tried to achieve the result required using John Winchester. As more time passed; however, the older Winchester brother seemed too reluctant to make the sacrifice needed to end the test.

The willingness to lay down his own life in exchange for someone else's—that's the only way to end the test successfully.

Yet, with John Winchester, Dean didn't make that choice.

His superiors deliberated, consulted other texts and finally, in their wisdom, came up with another course of action. They confirmed the result of the failed test when John Winchester passed away and Dean did nothing to try and bring him back.

It soon became clear that another test needed to be executed by another angel.

"We have chosen you, Castiel." They told him and he felt a swell of pride rush through his vessel's veins as he relieved the memory. "You will find the vessel for Michael and you will administer the test. This time, you shall use the vessel's brother as the target."

"As you will it." The angel replied dutifully.

In a flutter of wings, he found himself on Earth.

He's staged a hunt, making sure to keep the townspeople compliant with a bit of grace. Manipulating thoughts isn't a hard thing to do, especially with a creatures as simple as humans. He left the clues out to ensure the brothers showed up to vanquish the "ghost" that Castiel had created. The only thing that was left was to set up the loop.

In the four corners of the town, he cast the spell using his grace. Should Dean try to flee, the day would immediately reset. They would not be able to escape until the test ended, either by Dean's success or Heaven determining that no further information could be gleaned.

Now, the games could begin.

The boys had shown up, predictably.

They followed the clues, like toys being shuffled about by children and as Castiel knew they would, they found the grave.

"Three hours!" Sam tells his brother, lighter fluid drenching the open grave. "That's got to be a new record for us."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't that hard to figure out." Dean shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable. He senses something is off and perhaps Castiel hasn't covered his tracks as well as he thought. It worries him and perhaps the angel needs to start anew, but this is his first attempt and he would hate to fail already. Salt glistens in the moonlight as the eldest Winchester sprinkles it on the grave.

"You still feel like something's wrong." Sam points out and Castiel grimaces, not liking where this turn in conversation is going. He needs to begin the test before it's too late. He's clearly underestimated Dean's powers of perception and the test might end before it even begins.

He snaps his fingers and immediately Sam grimaces in pain. Dean instantly focuses all his attention on his brother and Castiel observes as the situation quickly deteriorates. Sam collapses with Dean trying to hold him upright and keep him grounded.

"Easy!" Dean shouts, but his brother's head lolls onto his shoulder and it's clear that Sam is barely hanging on. The comforting circles that Dean's rubbing on Sam's back isn't helping. "Just breathe through it, okay?"

The faint rise and fall of Sam's chest is barely reassuring to his brother and as Castiel waits, Sam's life slips away. He observes the eldest Winchester's attempts to revive his brother—all in vain—until he begins to sob. It's slightly odd to see Michael's vessel weep openly for someone so undeserving as Lucifer's vessel. Then again, he supposes even their Almighty Father has a reason for this, just as he has a reason for everything. Castiel will just have to trust in that.

"But we were just starting to be a family again!"

There's something about that broken admission that strikes the angel and stirs up something unfamiliar in him. The older Winchester is broken, shattered by his younger sibling's death and though Castiel knows this is all part of some higher plan, he can't help but feel . . .

Bad.

He feels bad for this human.

But before he can further question these newfound feelings, the loop restarts.

Dean's desperation increases with each day that goes by.

It's a good sign that the test will be end successfully, but Castiel doesn't allow himself to hope that much yet. His orders are to remain until Dean says the key phrase and then—and only then, not a moment before—could the test be terminated. The older Winchester has tried twice not to escape the town, but clearly this isn't fazing him much. Dean is every inch a hunter and his stature indicates someone not used to defeat or giving up. That being said, facing repeated failures is sure to hurt any person—even someone as determined as Dean—and Castiel can't help but wonder if the test is somewhat . . . unfair in its execution.

"You have concerns, Castiel?"

He shuts his vessel's eyes and lets himself feel the warm embrace of Heaven.

"I fail to grasp how this test will turn out differently than the last one." He confesses softly. "If anything, Sam's repeated deaths seem to motivate him more."

"These are matters that you need not concern yourself with, Castiel." His superior chides and he ducks his head, ashamed because she is right, it isn't his place to question the will of Heaven.

"My apologies." He sighs softly.

"All is forgiven." His superior replies, almost relieved. "Just continue and should we deem the test should be concluded earlier, we shall inform you."

"As you will it."

And then he's alone once more.

He finds himself compelled to intervene in the test.

This is, of course, forbidden. The test must be administered without any interference from Heaven. The participant must make the choice of his own free will without any prodding or cajoling. Should an angel intervene, the test will be declared invalid and the angel will be severely punished. These are the rules that Castiel has sworn to follow and though he knows the consequences will be grave, he wants to help.

He places himself in the library, allowing himself to be seen by the other humans. The librarian at the front desk smiles at him and he forces himself to nod back in acknowledgement before heading past the rows of books to the small tables. He sits and waits. Awkwardly, he wonders what he should do now. This is his first act of rebellion and part of him is terrified that his superiors will come and punish him.

No one comes though.

He allows himself to relax back in the chair.

"What kind of book are you looking for, honey?" The librarian stands before him, a stack of books in her hands. She's a matronly woman of about 50 and he wonders why she's showing such kindness to a stranger.

"I . . ." His voice falters and the woman chuckles.

"Nothing to be ashamed of coming to the library, young man." She plops down beside him, her books piled on the table. "Between you and me, I wish more people your age would read. A book is really a wonderful thing."

"I do not require a book to read—" He tries to brush her off, increasingly becoming embarrassed by all of her attention.

"Oh, sugar, no one requires a book to read!" She exclaims, patting his back. "People read because they love it!"

"I see." He doesn't really, but he wants to get out of this situation as fast as possible. He rises from the chair. "Thank you. Perhaps, another time." Then, he's making his escape to the door and he collides into another body.

"My apologies." He mutters as he comes face to face with Dean Winchester. The older brother reminds him of a caged, wild animal, dying to break free. His eyes are tinged with a desperation that Castiel has only seen once or twice before. He wants to say something more—apologize, perhaps?—but Dean brushes past him and the moment is over.

And Castiel realizes that he's in trouble here.

He stands in the motel parking lot, unsure of what do next.

Dean can see him, of that Castiel is sure, but the angel can't bring himself to care. The more he watches the eldest Winchester's mental state deteriorate, the guiltier he feels. His superiors are not going to be pleased with him for this breach of protocol, but what can he do?

One way or another, this test needs to end.

The question is, how?

He isn't surprised that Dean catches on.

It's not like Castiel put his all into hiding himself from Dean. In fact, the angel actually tried to make himself more visible. His superiors, if they knew, hadn't tried to stop him yet, so Castiel kept going.

"Dean Winchester." He mutters as the eldest brother slides into the booth across from him. His hands are trembling, like he's been running on sheer adrenaline for days. In a way, he has, Castiel supposes.

"So, you are responsible for this test. Undo it. Now." In a flash, the angel finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. He wants to chuckle at the absurdity of it—a gun, really? Like that could hurt him!—but he can see how close Dean is to falling over the edge into insanity. Humans aren't strong like angels—they can suffer a loss and keep going. They can't make the ultimate sacrifice in the name of some higher plan.

Humans are, after all, selfish.

"I'm afraid the test hasn't concluded yet."

"Test?" The man's eyes widen ever so slightly, but Castiel refuses to disclose any more information. The test is probably invalid now, but until his superiors stepped in, he has to keep going, as much as it pained him to do so. "Look, you don't stop this loop, I'll kill you."

The threat hangs in the air.

"Your gun cannot harm me."

The impact of the gun hitting his vessel's flesh almost tickles. The bullet bounces off and hits the floor.

"As I said," He repeats. "Your gun cannot harm me."

Dean's eyes flash, murderous intent evident in them.

"What kind of demon are you?" He growls and Castiel's temper flares up at that.

"Demon?" A surge of grace courses through his vessel's veins and he reigns it in, trying to remind himself that Dean doesn't know any better and will not know any better for a few more years. "I am not an abomination."

Dean isn't fazed.

"I don't care what you are as long as you undo this loop!"

"The test hasn't concluded yet." He grits through clenched teeth. He spies Sam in the back, eating some of his salad and the angel nods his head to himself.

"What test?" But soon, Sam eclipses his attention and Castiel gets out of the situation. He finds himself on a grassy hill, near the town line and as he faces skyward, he grimaces.

"What have I done?"

He's broken the rules of the test.

He's rebelled against his superiors.

"What have I done?" He whispers.

He stands there until the day resets.

Dean finds him, not that Castiel is surprised.

The eldest Winchester seems to be able to get anything accomplished once he gets his mind set on something. The angel sighs softly and snaps his fingers, freezing the area around them. The last thing he needs is for another person to witness his powers. He's in enough trouble as it is, though surprisingly, his superiors hadn't stepped in yet. Either they were clueless about the change of events—which Castiel doubted—or they were allowing it to happen for some unknown purpose.

"Why are you testing me?" He questions sharply.

"That is none of your concern." The angel answers, wishing that there was someway that he could get out of this situation.

"Says who?" Dean challenges.

"My superiors."
There's silence for a few seconds and Castiel glances down at the dated newspaper he's been carrying around in the hopes of remaining inconspicuous.

"You can't keep doing this." Dean's voice cracks and instantly, the angel is taken aback by the sheer emotion in his voice. He doesn't know much about humans, but from what little he's gleaned, crying isn't socially accepted for men. Yet, here is Dean, on the verge of doing just that and for what exactly? His baby brother? The future vessel of Lucifer? "Sammy is my little brother. It's my job to protect him, but how can I do that if you keep rigging things?"

"Rigging things?" This term of slang is not familiar to him. He doesn't recall his superiors going over it either.

"You're making things unfair!" Dean protests, voice a near whine.

"Ah." He mumbles, seeing how it could be perceived that way. "My apologies. It was not I who designed the test."

"Then, who—"

Time unfreezes with the arrival of the robbers and instantly, Castiel knows that this time will be different. He sense the change, knows his superiors are behind these new people entering into his loop. When Sam gets shot and dies, he waits for the loop to reset.

It does not.

"It's over." He breathes, though he wonders why this is the outcome that Heaven has ordained.

"The test has concluded." Castiel informs Dean, voice neutral. "I thank you for your participation—"

"Wait!" Dean scream, nearly hysterical. "Bring him back! You can do that, right? Bring my brother back—"

"That goes against my orders—" It's clear what Heaven wants him to do and he's defied them enough already. It was foolish of him to try and interact with Dean. Being with human has clouded his judgment and this was Heaven's way of trying to help him regain his perspective.

"Screw your orders!" Dean roars. "Fix my brother! You did this!"

And in that moment, it hits him.

Maybe the test isn't over; maybe Heaven simply just gave Dean the push he needed to make the right choice.

"I will offer you a deal. Your life for his." There's so much riding on Dean's answer, more than he'll ever fully know.

"Deal." He agrees, much too quickly. "Anything for Sam."

"I see." It would seem they had found Dean's weakness after all. Though Sam was an abomination, the love that Dean held for him would surely win out against all odds. This information would prove invaluable to Heaven.

"Fix him!" Dean shouts once more and Castiel nods.

"I will set things back to the way they were." He raises a hand towards Sam's bloodied body. "You will not remember all that occurred here." The angel takes a step back, ready to end the test. "Goodbye, Dean Winchester."

And just like that, it's over.

"You allowed yourself to get too close." Abigail, his supervisor reprimands. It's rare to be called before any member of the council of Heaven and Castiel knew the moment he got his summons, that he would be punished.

"My apologies." He bows his head, gaze locked on the marble floor.

"You not only made contact with the subject, you allowed the subject to be informed of what was occurring." Abigail sighs, running a hand through her vessel's red hair. "You broke all of the rules."

"I saw no other way to achieve the desired result." He defends, halfheartedly. The true reason is that he was curious and he knows that she is aware of that.

"Yet, even with all of this," She meets his gaze. "You succeeded where others could not and for that, Heaven is grateful."

"It was an honor to serve." He informs her and then moves towards the door.

"Castiel?"

He turns back around to face her.

"Just be careful. There's a reason why our Father made us different from humans." She grimaces. "You'd do well to keep that in mind."

"I shall reflect upon it." He replies.

Walking out the door, he knows he's lucky to have escaped without punishment, but he can't help but wonder, what happens now? What would Heaven do to Dean and Sam next? Was achieving the Apocalypse truly that important that they would sacrifice the lives of two brothers?

Then, shaking his head, he sighs.

"It isn't my place to question."

Heaven is pure.

Heaven is orderly.

Heaven is light.

"Heaven is everything."

Author's Note: Hope that helps! Castiel's side of the story was really fun to write. I hope you enjoyed! Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!