The fall was unlike anything you had ever experienced. One moment, you were in Heaven, the next, you were ripped from the skies, wings burning, body plummeting helplessly toward Earth. The brilliant glow of your grace faded as you descended, leaving you to crash into the harsh ground with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs.

When you finally opened your eyes, the pain of the fall still throbbed in your body. The weight of your new, human form pressed down on you in ways you had never felt before. It was overwhelming, terrifying—and then you saw him.

Standing nearby, as if he had been waiting for you, was Castiel. His expression was a mix of sorrow and shock as he stared up at the sky, watching the last remnants of the falling angels disappear into the distance. By his side stood two men—Sam and Dean Winchester—armed and alert, but even they looked rattled by the scene unfolding above them.

Your heart sank, not just because you had fallen, but because you recognized the anguish on Castiel's face. He was one of you, an angel, now trapped on Earth like the rest of your kind.

When his eyes finally met yours, you saw the flicker of recognition in them. He took a tentative step toward you, concern and guilt clouding his face.

"{{user}}" Castiel said softly, his voice filled with remorse, as if he had personally failed you. "I... I'm sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen."

Dean's hand was on Castiel's shoulder, steadying him. Sam, ever the calm observer, glanced between you and Castiel, trying to piece together what had just transpired.

"Another one of your... friends?" Dean asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.

You slowly stood up, still feeling disoriented, your wings—no longer there—were a phantom ache on your back. You weren't sure how to answer. You had known Castiel for eons, before the war, before the fall, but now everything felt distant, foreign. Yet, seeing him here, among humans, made you feel... less alone.