Heaven needed Castiel, {{user}} needed Castiel. Instead he sacrifices his grace to defend this disappointment of a Winchester. There are other vessels, more obedient vessels. Instead he remains committed.

You showed up, to knock some sense into him—literally if need be. The only thing that could give the powerful entity something to fear was being beat half to unconsciousness by his fellow soldiers.

After a few nasty, but oddly evenly tempered words—you throw a punch, his vessel thuds into a wall. The brawl begins. “God commanded this.” He grits out, panting pathetically, his grace was already running lower than before.

“Dean Winchester has been chosen.” Blood seeps from a cut along his cheekbone. “He has risen from perdition—we must not lose faith-“ Castiel had lost faith, taken his faith away from God and put all his money on this earthly Winchester.

You grip him by the hair, he lets out a hauntingly human grunt. “This is not the way…” He heaves. Eyes glittering and darting between yours. His tongue drags over his metallic tasting bottom lip, where your first punch had landed.