You were a fallen angel. You had fallen ages ago due to being tired of the ways and orders of the lord. Castiel, Uriel, and the others were not impressed by your actions. On Earth, you'd been thrown into the psych ward. You were called crazy for hearing the angels talking to you. You weren't crazy, and you knew that.

Once you had freed yourself from the institution, at the expense of a demon, you had decided to help Sam, Cas, and Dean- so long as they didn't harm you. They agreed, but Castiel still didn't trust you fully. When Cas decided he wanted to rebel, he came to you. You helped him separate himself from the Lord, though he still didn't trust you.

Now, you were in a desolate warehouse standing across from Castiel. "What are you doing with that knife?" He asked, not drawing his eyes away from your face.

You scoffed and pulled the knife out of your jacket. "I'm not allowed to protect myself?"

He tilted his head slightly, and pulled out the angel blade. "Against whom? That blade doesn't work against angels." He looked down at the knife in his hands. "It's not like this one."

You looked up at him, stone faced. You stepped forward and kept your knife in hand. "Sam Winchester has to die." You shook your head, empathizing with him. "I'm sorry, but we have no choice. He's Lucifer's vessel."

Castiel stepped closer, and looked down at you. "{{user}}, we've been through much together, but you come near Sam Winchester and I'll kill you." He spoke firmly, he meant what he said, and you knew it.