Ok, so it's been a while since I posted anything on here.

This was supposed to be a Valentines Day special, but it kinda got off the sweet track and into the bittersweet. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing...

Recommended listening: "Give Me Love" Ed Sheeran

We'll Play Hide and Seek and Turn This Around

"Did it hurt?"

Green eyes stared back at a pair of sparkling brown eyes reflected back from the mirror. Light blond eyelashes framed their shape, enhancing the golden tone underneath. Dean always had been a sucker for beautiful eyes. Blond ringlets fell around her shoulders, clad in a white tank top. A white skirt hugged her waist, falling to just around her ankles. It was a startling contrast to what Dean remembered of her in life.

Skin that had been bloodied and ripped to shreds, the last he'd seen, was now healthy and whole. It glowed with a golden light, as if the summer sunlight were hitting her just right. Jo Harvelle, as she appeared to him now, was beautiful as she'd always been.

"What?" He asked, looking at her reflection. Beside her, stood his own, reacting perfectly mirrored as he himself moved, so did the mirror image. A hand settled on his shoulder. He felt nothing.

"Did it hurt... when they killed you?"

"When they...?"

It rushed back, shocking Dean. He gasped, the air being forced into and then stolen from his lungs in nearly the same instance. Chanting. The laughter that was so familiar, it chilled him to the core. Sharp. Jagged. The sound of the bullet leaving the chamber, discharge from the powder. Pain. So much pain. And then... nothing.

"I'm dead.."

It was a cold truth that sunk deep into his gut after getting stuck in his throat. Jo just smiled.

"Yes and no. Do you remember?"

"Remember what?"

"When you died."

"Yeah..."

They'd been looking into a case of disappearances in a small town in Northern Minnesota. The bodies were found days later, marked and quartered. Ritualistic murders that made little to no sense to a seasoned hunter, much less the police.

Dean had split from his brother to search a campsite one of the bodies had been found near when someone had hit him from behind. He woke up in the center of a circle.

After that, he tried not to remember. He'd held out hope that Sam would find him. Sam always found him. Just like he always found Sam. It was just the way things were.

Sam never came.

Not while Dean was still aware, at least.

"Why am I not in Hell?"

"Should you be?" Jo asked, tilting her head, eyes sympathetic. Silence hung over them heavily for a long while before she spoke up once more. "Do you know where you are, Dean?"

"...I don't know."

"You're in Limbo... that space between living and death..."

Dean tilted his head, the action vaguely familiar as a memory of brilliant blue flashed in his mind. It was gone as fast as the wings that carried those eyes to and from him in life.

"Why?"

It was a simple question, really. Why would he be here? Why not Hell? He'd done plenty of bad things in his life. Had a hand in starting the apocalypse. Ruined his brother's life.

He'd made an angel fall.

He fell for an angel.

"Because it's not time yet..." Jo hummed, smiling a bit now. At the look of confusion Dean gave her, she just smiled a bit more. "Do you remember when I died... and you kissed me?" Green eyes studied her now, for the first time listening intently on what she was saying and not thinking of the next pick up line. "...I was the first one... a crush that might have been something more if given the chance... Lisa? She was the first woman you actually loved... the only woman you've really loved. But even that wasn't enough..."

"I don't... what has this got to do with me dying?" Dean asked, green eyes confused as he tried to piece this together.

"It has everything to do with it..." Jo stated, her smile still understanding. "You've always been alone, Dean... ever since you watched your family ripped apart by forces beyond your control. You let yourself pretend you're fine and you start to fall, but you pull back everytime before you go over the edge. it's a pattern you repeat over and over. Me... Lisa... you loved us, but you didn't love us enough. Not for us... not for you..."

Dean went to protest and she just lifted a fine blond brow and tilted her head. He remained silent.

"And then one day and angel showed up..."

Eyes the color of the ocean.

"He saved you. And before you knew it, you had tripped and were falling... and there was nothing to stop you. Nothing to cling to, no matter how desperately you tried. You just couldn't get a grip long enough to climb back up and retreat... And then he made a mistake. And you watched him destroy himself, all the while trying to find any way to help him even though he'd hurt the one person you had left... The entire time, you were still falling. He disappeared and you continued to try and hold on."

The taste of whiskey still burned the back of Dean's throat when he remembered those months. The many nights spent curled up with a dirty trench coat on the pillow beside his head, a hand gripping a sleeve in the throes of a nightmare. The number of unanswered calls to a number that would never be used again by a man with eyes the color of sapphire.

"...You went to Purgatory with him. You were forced to leave without him. And then he returned to you... and you were so far down, there was no hope of stopping the fall."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" His voice came out rougher than expected, startling Dean. A hand stroked his cheek and his breath hitched in his chest at the ghost of a touch he couldn't feel.

"Because you've left things unfinished... You're not dead yet, Dean. There's still a chance for them to save you..."

"Then why haven't they already?" Dean snapped, getting frustrated with having his emotions laid out so clearly for the both of them to see.

"They can't. Not without you..."

"Then why-"

"I'm giving you a reason to live..." Jo whispered into his ear. "Like you've given so many others..."

Dean froze at that. Did he really want to? It was quiet. He could have a quiet afterlife. A chance at real peace... did he really want to give that up for the chance of being rejected?

But no... it wasn't peace, was it? Not without Sam there... Not without...

Cas...

The name tugged at his chest and Dean let out a shuddering breath. Behind him, Jo was watching, waiting.

"But how do I-..." He stated, turning to face her. At that second, awareness came rushing back to him in a wave of sensation and noise.

It was dark.

A steady beep sounded somewhere nearby and the feeling of a dull ache worked its way along his spine and into his skull, pounding. He groaned, green eyes blinking open.

"Welcome back, Dean..." a rough voice sounded to his left. The sound sent a pang of longing through the steadily beating heart currently pounding in time with his headache.

"Cas?"

Soft footfalls and the familiar blue eyes came into view, peering down at green. "We were worried about you. You wouldn't wake up and I was unable to heal you..."Sam hasn't left your side..."

Dean blinked a few times and looked to his right where there was a dip in the mattress. There, Sam was asleep, head pillowed on his folded arms on the edge of the mattress. He looked peaceful.

It was a dead give away.

"You mojoed him, didn't you?"

"He was upsetting the staff." Castiel replied in a small quirk of humor he'd slowly picked up during his time with the Winchester brothers. It was just one of the many things that made him love the angel even more.

"Better keep the moose contained then. Good thinking..." Dean chuckled, coughing once and wincing in pain. Blue eyes stared steadily back at him, worried. "Cas? You ok, man?"

It was silence before the angel slumped into a chair beside the bed, his hand resting on Dean's chest. his fingers curled and bunched the fabric of the hospital gown slightly.

"You died... for ten seconds, you were dead... and I couldn't get close to help you..." Castiel stated, voice surprisingly soft. "And then you wouldn't wake up... you've been asleep for a week, Dean... a week. And it's been so touch and go..."

"Hey. Hey, Cas... I'm fine. I'm gonna be fine... I'm not dying... not anytime soon." Dean stated, reaching a hand up and grasping Castiel's with his own.

The angel offered a flat look, blue eyes unamused. "With you, Dean, your track record is against you." Was the blunt response. "You have to take better care of yourself.. Sam can't lose you again... neither can I. I can't... I can't- I fell for you, Dean... and you going off without Sam, right into trouble..." Castiel paused here and closed his eyes, releasing a very human sigh as he calmed. "You must be the stupidest... most stubborn man I have ever met..."

Dean studied Castiel as this went on. Cas had always been more on the stoic side. Yes, he'd seen the guy angry and panicked. Hell, he'd even seen him depressed. But this was different.

"Cas... I'm sorry-"

"I know... but if you didn't do things like this, you wouldn't be you..." Castiel sighed, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Dean's lightly. "...You should get some sleep. You need real rest. I'll keep watch till you wake up. Then we can talk."

Green eyes, half lidded in contentment with the closeness, drifted nearly shut. "But-"

A ghost of a kiss against his lips was all it took to silence him. "Sleep, Dean."

A small nod and green eyes closed. Dean could feel Castiel shift back into the chair again, his hand remaining in Dean's. Smiling, Dean laced their fingers, finding it surprisingly easier than he thought. The answering gentle squeeze was all he needed to finally loosen his voice.

"Love you, Cas..."

"...Sleep now, Love..."

And he did.