Dean makes the muddy trek to Cas's cabin that night. Everyone else, including his past self, turned in long ago leaving Dean to study the maps (and drink half a handle of liquor). He nods silently to the night watch on his way and they nod silently back, used to his late night wanderings.

Dean doesn't announce himself, just pushes aside the beaded curtain that serves as a door. The wooden spheres clink together softly, and Cas, sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, drops the needle in surprise.

"Shit," he says, turning to face the door. He relaxes once he sees who it is.

"Oh," he says, "It's just you."

"Who did you think I was?" Dean asks sourly.

Cas blinks lazily at him, "You."

Cas smiles and lays back against the pillows and blankets that surround him. Dean watches him a moment and then goes to join him, stretching out parallel to him.

"I have a favor to ask."

"I wish I lived in a green house."

Dean tilts his head to watch his companion stare up at the ceiling, "Why?"

Cas smiles, "Because then we could see the stars."

"I'll ask Chuck to find you some of those glow-in-the-dark stick-on ones."

Cas's head flops to the side and he gives Dean a dopey grin, "Awesome."

They lay there for a moment, cheeks warm from the drug and the alcohol and maybe something else.

"You wanted to ask me something?"

Dean turns back to the ceiling, imagining hundreds of tiny glowing stars.

"I need you to kill me. Tomorrow. After. If everything goes as planed."

Dean blinks and the imaginary stars are gone.

"I'd do it myself, but I've never… I don't think I can."

Dean feels a hand on his arm and turns to find Cas staring at him, smile gone.

"Don't," he says, "Don't ask me that." Cas moves his hand up to Dean's cheek, "You're all I've got left."

Dean stares back, breath and heart beat speeding up. Cas tilts his head forward and Dean jerks his gaze away.

"I guess I'll just let Risa take her revenge then."

Cas rolls his eyes and laughs. They lay in silence for a few minutes until Cas speaks up again.

"It'd probably be best if I wasn't around tomorrow either. After. If all goes as planed."

Dean's hand twitches with the urge to touch, to soothe, but it stays in place.

Cas shrugs, "Won't really be anything to hang around for once you're gone."

"What about the stars?" Dean whispers.

Cas grins up at the ceiling.

"Fuck 'em."