So if you haven't learned by the title, I apologize over and over again for this chapter. I know in my older chapters, I mentioned how bad things were going to get, but this might just top them all, even in What is a Toaster. So, I've decided to do my announcements of this story before I begin it!

Thank you all who checked out my stories earlier! I'm glad that some of you enjoyed them(although some of you didn't as well) and I'm excited to keep them going. I got out the first one-short for my fluff compilations, so after this, if you are in tears, I would go suggest you read that, just for a little comfort.

Without further ado, I write my death wish!

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Castiel had been walking to his car in the parking lot when he heard the first scream. It pierced the quickly darkening sky, the suddenness of it making Castiel jump in surprise. But, it wasn't the fear that got his heart racing, it was that he recognized the voice, one that he could never forget.

Before he even realized it, he was running, following the scream with quick and long strides. It had helped that he picked up running on weekends, and could dart quickly down the sidewalk, his breaths coming in pants as he begged to the gods he was not too late.

He had almost passed the alleyway that the screams were coming from, until another one came directly to his right before cutting off suddenly with a gun shot and sickening gurgle. Castiel pounded to a halt, trying to hold back the bile that was in his throat as he realized what that meant.

But he had to make sure himself, even though he knew seeing it would break him.

He crept down the alleyway, breathing as evenly through his nose as he could after the run. The aura that came from the place was empty, and sorrowful, and the setting sun seemed to cast everything a shade darker, making his stomach churned as he made out a body lying on the ground.

He walked forwards the final steps, coming to a stop in front of his loved one, tears welling in his eyes as his suspicions were confirmed. He fell to his knees, picking up his head, and holding him close, letting out a sob when he saw a gunshot wound lodged in his chest.

He reached out for Castiel, his breaths broken and uneven, becoming more labored as he touched Castiel's face, before the hand fell back, and the life left his eyes.

Castiel screamed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Fifteen Hours Earlier~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel woke up groggily when a sob reached his ears, the sound faint and distant. He raised his head, looking at the sleeping form of Dean beside him, and frowning, looking around. Seeing no one else, he laid his head back up, only for it to shoot up when he heard Mike call his name from the room down the hall.

He was on his feet and out the bedroom door in an instant, barely glancing at the clock long enough to register that it was three in the morning before he was heading down the hallway, the slight chill making him glad he wore t-shirts and sweatpants to bed.

He found Mike's bedroom after a moment - having to stumble around in the dark for the doorknob - until he slowly opened the door and switched on the light.

Mike was laying his bed, sniffles coming from his form as tears made tracts on the sides of his face. His hands clutched the blankets underneath his fingers as he looked over Castiel, more tears welling up. The black-haired Novak furrowed his eyebrows, making his way over.

"Mike? What's wrong?" Castiel asked, sitting on the bed beside his adopted son. It was strange seeing Mike like this because, although he was a bit more emotional, he was a lot like Dean was, and preferred to deal with things on his own than deal with others.

"Sorry. It was just a bad dream." Mike said, sitting up hastily and trying to wipe away the evidence of tears. Castiel sighed, putting his arm around the kid and pulling him into a comforting hug.

"You know, Dean had bad dreams ever since he was younger. You know what made it better for him?" Castiel said, looking at his adopted son with loving eyes. Mike looked up at him curiously, then back at the ground before shrugging.

"He would talk to me about it. It was literally the only time he would ever actually talk about how he was feeling or anything, because he was raised to believe that showing emotion was a sign of weakness. You two are actually quite a lot alike." Castiel spoke, letting out a soft yawn. He looked over at Mike, who actually looked just as tired as the Novak felt.

"And that helped?" Mike asked, frowning as he rubbed his hand over his face. Castiel nodded, pulling his legs up onto the bed in a crisscross position.

"Lay down, and I'll show you my special trick." Castiel said, waiting until Mike got back under the covers before moving over and switching off the light. He made his way back over to the bed, wanting to see if his suspicions were true.

He sat next to Mike on the bed, moving his hand to the nape of the teen's next, stroking from the end of his hair to the middle of shoulder blades.

He couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he realized that Mike and Dean were almost the same person when he realized the teen had fallen asleep.

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Castiel groaned as he got into work that day, laying his head on the clean spot of his workstation, struggling to keep his eyes open. He had stayed up with Mike just a bit longer, just to make sure the boy would not have any more nightmares that night, and ended up not sleeping at all the rest of the night because he was wide awake by the time he went back to bed. He was greatly regretting it, but he was at least glad that he could help Mike.

It was easier to do his work now that Mike was in school and he didn't have to worry about him being alone at home. Of course, the teen had fit right in, especially with being good at sports and having a sweet personality on top of it. Castiel was extremely proud.

He was more worried about Dean and his personal vendetta lately. It had been two days since the last assassination of The Angels and Dean literally spent all of his time at work, trying to track down the assassin or the witness. Castiel tried not to worry, but it didn't help.

His work had gone slow, as he mostly dozed or was lost in thought throughout the day. Thankfully, a middle-aged woman would come by periodically to make sure he was okay, so he got enough done that he wouldn't have to stay too after he was usually supposed to get off. He was two hours in overtime when Dean called and said he got a lead on one of the assassins, so Castiel left to make sure Mike wouldn't be alone.

He wished he would have never stayed late at all.

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Castiel felt hot waves of tears cascade down his face as he shakily held Mike in his arms, unable to do anything more than to close those blank amber eyes that stared up at him. Emptiness crawled into his heart, choking him with a sadness that could only be matched with hell itself.

Finally, after several minutes of uncontrolled sobbing, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the phone and dialing Dean's number. It rang for just a few moments before Dean answered.

"Cas, I know it's a bit late, but I'm on my way home now, so don't worry, okay?" Dean said before Castiel could say anything, but he didn't have to as another sob escaped his throat, making him bury his his head in Mike's hair, begging incoherently for the teen to come back.

"Cas?! What's wrong?!" Dean asked, a panicked tone entering his voice. Castiel shivered, raising his head and looking at the blurry forms of the alleyway.

"D-Dean...." Castiel trailed off, his sobs making it too hard to speak. He let out another wave of tears, trying to get the words out as fast as he could before he was forced to stop. "A-alleyway be-between the ye-yellow building a-and the s-sandy b-brick."

Castiel couldn't say anymore and let out another scream, holding Mike's cooling body close in his arms. He heard Dean say something, but he couldn't make out what as he let the phone fall from his hand and pulling his adopted son against him. It was then that he heard something fall from Mike's corpse, making him blink and looked at the ground.

He saw the pendant laying on the ground, the black hand mark clearly visible in the light grain of the wood. He let out a whimper, reaching over and clutching it in his hand, crying even more when he realized that it was symbol of The Angels. He was murdered by an assassin.

Dean arrived only ten minutes later, and by then Castiel was mainly numb, his clothes soaked in Mike's blood. He looked up as Dean came over, letting out a whimper and beginning to cry again as his husband crouched down, pulling Castiel into a hug.

Nothing had ever hurt so much.

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Sooooooooo, don't kill me ;.; Just remember, if I die, I can never complete the story, and you'll be left with this as the ending, so that is my blackmail to remain alive!