WARNING: Spoilers for the season 6 finale, and for 7x01 "Meet The New Boss".

Author's Note: This is the recently re-edited version of the very first fanfiction I ever posted on here. I was totally new to fanfiction when this was originally written. I kept the content the same, but changed the formatting to be less chunky, and therefore more reader-friendly. :) It's a oneshot from Castiel's POV as he returned the souls to Purgatory.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Castiel, Dean, or any of the amazing people/creatures in Supernatural. :(

Castiel stood before the gate to Purgatory, his legs weakening under the weight of his latest mistake.

Because that is what all these souls had been, right? Yet another mistake in a long string of failures…

He had waited too long to join Dean the first time, even going so far as to help Zachariah free Sam from the panic room at Robert Songer's house, and the apocalypse had been started as a result of that choice.

He had brought Sam back from the Hell after the apocalypse, only to find that he had left the man's soul behind.

He had begun working with a demon, neigh, the very King of Hell himself, to end the fight that could reboot the apocalypse…

But was that really all that it had been about? Had he not secretly reveled in the idea of taking control of Heaven? Of being the one to show angels the glory of freedom, while simultaneously guiding them with a firm hand as their new God?

Castiel glanced over his shoulder at Dean and immediately wished he hadn't. The disgust reflected on the hunter's face almost caused Castiel's knees to buckle.

"I'm sorry, Dean." He managed to say before turning back to the abyss that spread before him.

And he was.

Castiel was so very, truly sorry.

Which is why he was there to return the souls that he fought so hard to attain. After all, he was never meant to have them, and he could see that now.

His arrogance had been his downfall, and although he believed that in the end, he would be left with nothing, not even the hunter he considered to be family, Castiel knew that he must at least try to right this wrong.

So there he stood before a fracture in two realities, preparing to release the souls of thousands of creatures- the souls of monsters- that no matter how monstrous they were, could never be as evil as he himself felt right then.

And suddenly they were emptying from Castiel's vessel.

He was emptying, and draining, and it hurt.

Each soul clawed its way out, ripping at him as if with fiery claws. Tearing at his grace and threatening to destroy every ounce of his being.

And Castiel couldn't help but wonder if that would really be so bad. He had apologized to Dean, and to have that apology be his final act would only be fitting, really.

After all, what could he say or do that could possibly be of more value than to repent for his sins against the human he owed so much to?

And the pain...The pain was becoming overwhelming. His very essence screamed as the souls burned through him and out of him.

Then, just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

Castiel knew nothing but darkness.

He slid down to the floor, unaware of the man who scrambled to his side.

Had he seen Dean run to him, he would only have felt more guilt.

Had he heard Dean's frantic attempts to rouse him, he would have only wished for the pain to start again. To distract him from the far more agonizing torture of seeing the friend he betrayed be so ready to forgive him the moment he was in need.

But fate chose to be kind for some unknown reason, and thus consciousness evaded Castiel.

Above the angel- the fallen angel who had truly fallen in every sense of the word- tears fell.

Softly at first, then more rapidly, and then accompanied by shouts of frustration and grief.

Dean Winchester wept for the loss of the friend who had chosen to abandon him.

Who had chosen a demon over him.

Who had raised him from Hell, given all to him, and then stumbled while Dean was unable to catch him.

And then the darkness lifted.

Castiel gradually became aware of his friend's angry pleas for him to awaken. He opened his eyes and his gaze rested upon two circles of green rimmed with thin red lines.

"Cas?" The voice was hopeful, and that hope broke Castiel's heart.

"That was unpleasant." Castiel managed to grumble.

And just like that, arms were pulling him to his feet and helping him to stay upright. Dean was there, patting him on the back and laughing softly with relief.

Castiel felt the urge to scream at Dean and demand he explain his foolish readiness to forgive.

Instead, Castiel found himself being pulled into a tight hug.

"Hey. I know you screwed up. And believe me, when you're up to it I'll kick your ass for all that crap you pulled…But for now… For now I'm just happy to have you back, man."

The moment he heard those words, suddenly Castiel felt lighter than he had in months. The weight that had been threatening to break his legs seemed to vanish.

Perhaps his pattern of failure and mistakes was ending after all. Because if Dean could have faith in him, even when he didn't deserve it, then maybe he could do better next time.

Which was, of course, also the moment when the Leviathans chose to make their presence known.

Because fate had not been kind. Fate had merely been patient. It had been waiting for the optimum moment to strike the most pain into Castiel's heart.

Several minutes later, as the Leviathans forced Castiel to march himself into the river and meet his demise, the fallen angel's last thought was of how he wished he had died after apologizing to Dean, because at least then he could say his final act was a good one.

Then the guilt washed over him, and the water washed over him, and his knees finally collapsed out from under him.

Castiel knew no more.

Secondary Author's Note: I apologize if I made anybody feel depressed with this one... Lol Feedback is greatly appreciated! :)