A/N: I do not own Supernatural.
"What's on the agenda today?" Dean's voice was still rough from disuse.
The blue-eyed angel smiled at him. "You're almost complete. I just have to tweak a few things and then you'll be whole again."
"And I can see Sammy?"
"Yes, you can see Sammy."
The tension hung in the air. Dean knew something was off. His angel wasn't looking at him like he used to.
"What are you not telling me?"
The angel paused. He glanced at Dean lying on the table and then looked away. Already he missed those blues.
"Castiel?"
He sighed. "You're going back."
Dean nodded. "Yeah?"
"I won't be going."
Without realizing it, Dean grabbed the angel's hand. Castiel looked down at it.
"Why?"
Castiel didn't answer, just lifted his eyes to Dean's face. He stared into those gorgeous green orbs. He knew those eyes so well, knew Dean so well. After all, he had rebuilt him.
Dean tightened his grip. He never broke eye contact. "Why?" He repeated as he sat up.
Castiel sighed. "It was never part of the plan." He looked away.
Dean nodded. His heart constricted. How was he supposed to go back home? Go back to a normal life after Castiel? Impossible. He had fallen in love with the angel during their time together. He knew it wasn't permanent, but he had dared to hope something would keep them together. He didn't want to be without him now. How would he survive?
"So that's it?" Dean asked, removing his hand. Castiel turned away. "I'm just supposed to go on with a broken heart? Act like my time with you hasn't been the best part of my existence? That's it?"
Castiel turned back to him, but wouldn't meet his eyes. "You won't remember," he said quietly.
Dean choked. "What?"
"Part of the plan," Castiel said. "You go back and continue to fight, but you won't remember me." Castiel's eyes were sad.
Dean shook his head.
"It's better this way, Dean. It's the only way."
Reaching out with two fingers, Castiel began to press them against Dean's forehead. Before he could continue, Dean grabbed his wrist. He pulled Castiel close to him.
The angel looked surprised but didn't pull away.
Dean's other hand came up to caress Castiel's cheek. He saw his angel lean into his touch. A tear rolled down Dean's face.
"I love you," he said quietly. Castiel closed his eyes and leaned further into Dean's hand.
"I love you back."
Dean pulled Castiel in and pressed his lips to his. He was determined to remember this part. He would fight all instincts and remember his angel. Remember how his body surged to life feeling his angel's lips pressed against his. How soft they were, and inviting. Dean wanted more and moaned into the kiss.
Castiel broke them apart and pressed his fingers to Dean's forehead again. He reassured him he would see him again. Then everything went blank.
The next thing Dean knew, he was clawing his way through the dirt, through the mud. His hand reached out, it felt the sunlight. He pushed through, feeling the soil break on his head.
Cool air hit his face and he took in a deep breath. He continued pushing himself up. He had to. He had to get out of there.
Once he was free of the confines of the ground, he looked around. Where the hell was he? What was he doing here, back on Earth? Shouldn't he still be in hell?
He saw a makeshift grave and realized Sam had buried him. Okay, so why was he walking around? And why does he have a headache?
He walked to a gas station where he downed two bottles of water and grabbed a bite to eat. His lips were tingling, as though he had just kissed someone.
That's odd, he thought. Who the hell did I kiss in Hell?
He shuddered. He didn't want to think about that, given all he had gone through.
A piercing sound cut through him. He covered his ears with his hands as he watched all the glass in the gas station explode into a million pieces. The sound continued for a minute and then stopped.
He slowly removed his hands from his ears. What the hell?
The brunette ordered him to sit. Dean thought this was silly but did as told. He was eager to find out who pulled him from hell.
She began the incantation. "I need to touch something that he touched," she said grabbing Dean's ass.
"Whoa! Well he didn't touch me there," he said with a glare.
She smiled. "My mistake."
Yeah I bet, Dean thought.
She continued the incantation. Then she stopped. Dean's ears perked up when she said a name.
"Castiel?" He repeated. He knew that name. But how? Someone from his time in Hell? Who in hell would help him get out? And why?
Flashes of blue crept into his head. He couldn't see who, or what it was, just that it was the most beautiful blue he had ever seen.
His lips began tingling again. He bit them to stop.
"Now we have a name."
The barn doors flew open. Dean and Bobby began shooting the rock salt at the thing that entered. Dean couldn't make it out at first. It looked like a man.
This being walked towards them. The shooting did no good. They dropped their guns as the being approached. Time for plan B.
Dean's body began tingling. What the hell? Why isn't it afraid? His gut should be telling him to run. But instead, he felt grounded to the spot.
"Who are you?"
The demon, had to be, Dean surmised, stopped in front of him.
"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."
That voice! Why was it so familiar?
Dean drove the blade into the demon's heart. It looked down at the handle and then back at the human.
Oh god, that's the blue. The blue that invaded his head, not letting him get a moment's peace. It seemed to always pop up at the most inopportune times. The blue that offered comfort, warmth...love?!
He watched Bobby fall to the ground as this being explained he was just sleeping. He removed two hands from Bobby's forehead. Why was that familiar? The being thumbed through the spell book.
"Who are you?" Dean repeated.
"Castiel." The tingling increased.
"Yeah, figured that." Dean rolled his eyes. "I mean WHAT are you?"
The human, demon, whatever, looked up, directly into his eyes. "I'm an angel of the lord."
All of the air in Dean's lungs left him. He was completely captured in that sea of blue. They were pulling him in. He dropped his eyes to the angel's lips. His own began tingling, as though it remembered something. He glanced back up. The angel was watching him.
"You don't think you deserved to be saved?" The angel was standing too close. Personal space his mind screamed. Yet, Dean couldn't find the strength to tell this being to back off. It was as though he was being pulled towards it. And worst part was he didn't mind.
"There's work to be done," the angel said. He turned away and Dean felt a wave of sorrow wash through him. Why? What was it about this angel that he was drawn to? Why did he recognize the name? Why did that blue haunt him? And why was it the only thing he wanted to do was press his lips to the angel's?
Dean was determined to find out if it was the last thing he did.
A/N: Thanks for reading!