Hey. Ok, not sure where this fits in chronologically, but it just popped into my head. Enjoy ...

Dean jumped awake when the car horn sounded. God, since when was he such a light sleeper? He rubbed his eyes and yawned his sleepiness away. Stuck in the middle of some state he had forgotten the name of, he swung his legs off the bed and pulled on his shoes. Sam had gone out a few hours earlier to find something to eat when he had texted him, letting him know he wouldn't be back until morning.

Dean trudged over to the window, pushing back the curtains. Their motel was overlooking a small grassed area, a small pond. He let his eyes skim the landscape before they found a lone figure sat on a bench on the far corner of the park. Dean let out a long sigh and scrabbled to find his coat.

Dean made his way through the dark dank grass until he reached who he was looking for. Castiel didn't seem to acknowledge his arrival. He was looking up in the sky, a longing expression on his face. Dean sat next to him and studied the angel. 'Do you miss it?' he asked. He knew what Cas had given up when he agreed to help him; it couldn't be easy for the angel.

Castiel sighed, quietly. 'No.' He frowned and turned to face Dean. 'Yes'

'I'm sorry Cas. I mean it. 'What you've done for us. For me. What you've given up. I don't think we get that you got feelings too.'

Cas nodded. 'Maybe not. But you have enough problems to deal with without me adding mine.'

'No.' Dean interjected. 'You're my friend. My best friend. And I don't like seeing my friends hurting. So come on, spill'

Cas looked at him, long and searching before letting out a sigh, his gaze falling back to the floor. Dean waited patiently; he knew Cas would tell him, he just needed the time.

'I cant even see it properly now.' He said in that monotone voice of his. 'I used to see heaven, just beyond the clouds, but now there's nothing. Just shapes.'

Dean felt his stomach drop; he knew Castiel had been cut off from heaven, but to do this to the guy? 'Well, Cas' he said heavily. 'I wish I could say I know how you feel. But I don't. But just don't forget one thing.'

Cas turned to look at him, his brows creases with confusion. 'Forget what?'

'You still have us. Me and Sam. I know we're probably a poor substitute from your real family, but we're here if you need us. You're not on your own.'

Castiel's bright blue eyes pierces his own. 'But Dean, what I've done. The brothers I have killed. I can't even explain how I feel about taking their lives.'

'Try' asked Dean.

Cas looked at him, then turned away, trying to find the right words. 'I would say its the same feeling that you would feel if you had to kill Sam over and over again.'

Dean knew how he would feel; a heart- wrenching mixture of guilt, pain, remorse and anger at himself. Then he mentally kicked himself. Hard. How the hell could he expect Cas to kill his family for him? Who did he think he was? How could he, after so many years of trying to protect his own brother from death, even selling his soul to stop him from dying permanently, expect Cas to take their lives?

Feeling like a class A jerk, he turned back to Castiel, only to be confronted with an empty side of the bench.

'Dammit Cas' he muttered. He would come back, he knew. In his own time. He turned up the collar of his jacket and started the short walk back to the motel.

Five minutes later he slammed the door closed and fell into bed. He looked up at the ceiling and thought of his angel. 'It'll be ok Cas. It always is in the end' he muttered, before turning over to try and salvage some sleep.

There. Poor Cas.

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