I haven't decided whether or not to put Dean's POV as another chapter because I really don't like making him out to be a bad guy... :( Well, review and tell me what you think...

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profits. Warnings: may contain spoilers for post-end of the world, I haven't seen season five or four through yet and so also may be slightly AU. Some language. Mentions of past Dean/Castiel with brief details. Sad!fic (character death).

"I just don't think I can do this any more, Cas," With just those few words, Castiel understood. He understood why Dean dragged him out here, in the private area as peaceful as the world could be on the verge of an Apocalypse. He understood the puppyish, wide-eyed and glassy looks from Sam and the soft sighs of Bobby's as Dean quietly asked him to join him. Outside. He understood why Dean had feared emotional involvement. He was sure that he would rather suffer Hell for eternity than feel this heart-wrenching, chaotic burning of his chest.

He felt sick all over, as if his body would rather spew out all of his words, all of his stupid crooked grins and cocky lustful glances, all of his aching touches to cleanse and purify and detoxify himself of his sickening obsession. Rid himself inside out of every last thing even remotely related to Dean Winchester and be rid of this horrid, agonizing pain. Anything but what he actually did. "Why?" he gasped out, not sure if he could even make that. His lips felt heavy and unfamiliar, the action of pursing them to cooperate with his leaden tongue required a lot of coaxing. Just like when he had first acquired his vessel.

Dean. His Dean just sighed, shifting his weight around like he was uncomfortable and probably was. Castiel wanted him to feel like a quivering ant, wanted to narrowed his eyes at him and burn him with a Look, wanted to scream in his true Voice, wanted to Smite the smug Child of God for daring to do the unthinkable, unheard of; how dare he, how dare he just...fuck an Angel of the Lord like another one of his lowly whores he took for a one-night stand and tempt him with promises of grander pleasure and sweep him into the throes of passionate emotions and declarations only to drop him like a well-worn tool past its prime?

What he wanted was anger, holy, Righteous anger. What he mustered was tears and a quivering form even more disgusted with itself. Where was God, where was Justice? "Don't make this any harder than it has to be, Castiel."

So cold, so unforgiving. He even looked at him with undisguised hatred like in the beginning of their rocky relationship, like it was his fault. The bastard. How was he supposed to bite back the cry that escaped from his lips with all of that? For a second, he could have sworn that Dean wavered in his resolve. "Please, Castiel. You have to understand, if we even managed to survive, it wouldn't have worked out,"

Castiel winced. His beating heart that previously pumped with such pain that it seemed like it was sadistically trying to kill him froze and his whole body went numb at his reminder. He did not want to remember his duty to Heaven once the World would be saved, it reminded him of Dean's sometimes outlandish midnight plans to "beat the system". He hung his head, finally breaking eye-contact with his lover. Ex-lover. "We will survive, have Faith," he muttered, taking solace in the familiar words like it was a welcomed prayer answered, before he could stop himself. Quickly, he looked back up, fully aware of the dead feeling inside of him that must have shone through his expressive eyes as he prepared himself to say the words he least wanted to hear fall.

"Don't worry, Dean. I understand and I agree, completely,"

He hated how easily they fell from his mouth. They were lies, blasphemies carried weightless from the part in his lips and floated on the air between them. Damn them. Damn De-

No. Castiel's eyes fluttered close and shooed that thought away. No, he would never damn Dean or curse him. He had already been to Hell and...

I gripped you tight and pulled you out of perdition. He gripped him tight. He pulled him out. He left a mark. His mark. His Dean. He, him, his.

He gasped and fled, unable to withstand being in his presence any more. Not with all the memories they shared and the bond that Dean had severed. He needed a secluded place to kneel and weep and pray and let his mind burn with this revelation.

He returned just in time for the battle. Face grim and demeanour as he always should have been towards them. Like a dick. He spared a nod to Sam and Bobby, cool indifference to Dean. Less than that even, he refused to acknowledge his presence ever.

"Missed you, Cas," Dean said almost playfully, launching himself from the bed to stand close by him with a crooked grin.

Castiel smiled back. Softly, shyly. "I was busy with other duties,"

"Too busy for me?"

"Never too busy for you, Dean."

Castiel scowled and summoned his sword to his hand. He had never been in such a mood to kill as many demons as he possibly could before now. He wanted to loose himself in the action of fighting and he did. He was reckless as chaos was spewed from the very depths of Hell, he was vulnerable, willing to die even. The wild, hard look in his eyes terrified even the mightiest and confidant of filth. Every swing-

"Cas, you know- you know that I..." Dean fumbled with the words he was trying to say. It was awkward to say the least as his face reddened when Castiel just tilted his head.

"Yes, Dean, I do know. I feel the same way," he grinned at him hungrily. "Now come fuck me,"

"With pleasure,"

Every cut-

Dean suddenly reached across the divide between them in his beloved car, his hands tightly pressing into the sides of his face as he smashed his lips against his. It was hot and fevered as if they were packing a whole life-time of kisses into one moment and it hurt with a delicious intent. He felt teeth nip at him, saving gentle caresses for another time, and Castiel gasped. He fully expected Dean to take advantage of his open mouth but he seemed startled and pulled back as if he was afraid of being caught by a priest or his father.

"I, uh...so where does this leave us?" he asked, refusing to look at him and instead finger his steering wheel.

"Wherever you want it to, Dean,"

Every slice-

Dean's hand traced the outline of his body, stopping rub circles around his hip bones and suck on them. Castiel sucked in a breath, releasing in with a slight hissing quality to a moan. Dean's lips detached themselves with a quiet pop and stretched into a smirk before he lightly scraped his teeth over the sensitive bone and bit hard. Castiel gasped, his erection jumping up and straining achingly against the boxers Dean forced him to still wear.

"Dean..." he whispered. "Please,"

"You're gonna have to do better than that, Castiel," he grunted, turning him onto his back and starting on the other side and working the left hipbone with more ferocity. Sucking harder, caressing harder, biting harder, touching harder. Castiel nearly screamed.

"Please, Dean, please...just take me,"

"As you wish,"

Every drop of blood-

Castiel shivered once Dean sat beside him in the back seat of his treasured Impala. The air was tense with sexual desire, lust, but there they sat still as statues. "Are you sure that it is okay for me to- us...?" Dean finally asked, his voice breaking into a rough grumble.

"No," Castiel said, tilting his head to view him. "But I want to." And then there was no more discussing. His coat was effortlessly discarded and his tie was flung into the air.

"I want this so badly, I want you so badly," Dean groaned, shrugging off his jacket. His voice dark with lust.

"Yes," he hissed agreement, meeting his lips in a frenzy.

Every slain foe-

Dean grinned at him and tore off the only piece of clothing separating them. His hands ran down the back of his legs, licking the insides of the angel's thighs teasingly, and propped them up on his shoulders. He closed the distance, his cock pressing against Castiel's hole. "Ready?"

He felt Castiel slide his legs and wrap themselves tightly around him just above his waist in response. He saw Castiel look at him with an impatient glare, eyes blazing a bright unnatural blue. "Right, forget I asked," he chuckled, his cocky attitude forgotten as he pushed inside and moaned.

It only made the memories come back full-blast. And worst of all, they were failing. The angels were retreating. Lucifer had taken Sam as a vessel and Dean, Dean wouldn't be able to sacrifice his brother for the greater good. Dean wouldn't live. They would not survive.

Castiel gasped. Dropping his sword and falling to his knees, he felt completely numb. He couldn't sense Dean, taste the air, feel the ground, hear the sounds of a raging war or smell the bloodshed all around him. There was nothing. He was nothing.

Distantly, he recognized that an enemy blade passed through his body in a mortal wound and blood left him in copious amounts. Faintly, he noticed that it was getting hard to breath and the world started to blur and fade into blackness.

"Cas."

"Cas..."

"God, Cas, if you die on me..." A choke. A sob.

"Fuck it. I won't let you die on me, you bastard! You can't die on me..." Two hands fisted in his clothes. They were released.

"Don't...please...I never stopped loving you. You have to believe that,"

Castiel woke up from his dream. His vision was bleary but he quickly made out the area surrounding him. "Dean..." he whispered, a soft smile breaking out into his face before he remembered and scowled. "Is Sam okay?" Dean's face fell but he turned away to compose himself.

"Yeah. Sam's alright and so am I, for that matter," he spat bitterly. Castiel slowly sat up, unsure to the extent that his injury went to.

"That is...good," he chose, looking at Dean. "Am I...?"

"Yeah, I mean, no. Okay, look, Cas-"

"Please...don't. You have said enough,"

Dean sighed and looked at the ground as the angel stood and looked down at him. "So, I guess...this is the end?"

Castiel nodded slowly, not levelling his gaze. "I must return to Heaven. My brothers await me and...there is nothing left for me here," he whispered sadly. He paused and began to unfurl his wings among the dead. "I will miss you, Dean Winchester," he felt compelled to lie before leaving.

Heaven was not quite as he remembered. It was peaceful and white and bright and full of Grace and the Lord's remaining touches, but it was mostly sad and filled with mournful laments rather than His angels all mingling and singing with Harmonies. It was lacking. Lacking in the number of angels, their Father, a Meaning.

It lacked Dean and Love and Hope and Faith and Glory. It lacked a bacon cheeseburger with a side of apple pie from a greasy dinner served by a buxom waitress that Dean charmed into getting for free along with a number he'd never call. He had Castiel then.

It lacked the passion of two lovers pursuing the Forbidden and tasting the fruits of their labour with undisguised enjoyment and not the least bit of regret. It lacked the spark, the tingles, the flutters when Dean simply Looked or Touched.

It lacked Free Will and Choice and Doubt that all made living as a human worthwhile and sometimes not. It lacked Life.

So when Castiel, too, fell to his knees again and sobbed into his hands again, joining the chorus of his brethren in sorrow, no one noticed that he was weeping for the loss of his humanity, of Dean, rather than the loss of the angels. His tears dried faster than he would have wished them to, the cavity in his chest from Dean's words had not been fully healed, and he stood without the irritated red eyes that wanted to sleep away pain. He wanted to curse it, curse the Perfection of Grace, wanted to feel the consequences of his every action not his upon-the-whole action. Even the Grace was lacking, it should have been slowly burning away every memory he had of the imperfect world of Earth until nothing was left but a hazy nostalgia of something that once was. He supposed that Dean was so ingrained in him that he could never, ever truly forget.

Castiel looked down, hoping to glimpse a little of Earth and maybe the Winchesters but saw nothing. It would be a long time before he would be finished with his Punishment and be able to return in another vessel, that is if he was ever allowed to return.

He roamed in a mindless daze among the chaos of Heaven, not particularly inclined or ready to rebuild the structure back into a stable hierarchy like some of the others, though, definitely not sharing the same reasons why as the others. There were no missions, no missives, no revelations to be received. Nothing to prevent them from restoring Heaven but themselves. Time did not exist.

"Do you wish to Repent of your sins of the flesh?" was asked of him once the realm was rightened. There was no need for names; besides Anna, he was the only one to have returned after Disobeying. Everyone knew his name, what he had done. Calmly, he stared back at their faces openly showing disgust or curiosity or nonchalance or anything in between. He did not strive for their Love, their versions of Obedience and Respect. He had found that on Earth and so it will remain, but angels weren't the only ones who could be heartless.

He inclined his head, hand reaching up to his chest and subtly almost attempted to pull out his heart. "I wish to Repent of my sins, but I shall not Regret them," Eyes sparkled around him with confusion, perhaps even anger.

"How can you be Punished so that you Repent, but not Regret them enough to make the same mistake again?"

His hand dropped to his side. "It was Written that I shall commit sins of the flesh and so it will always be Done. I cannot Regret what always was meant to be."

"Your Insolence-"

"You may Forgive me of my Insolence when I have given it," Castiel responded in true Dean fashion. The cavity ached again and his hand tried to rip away the pain on its own accord. "Please, just rid me of my earthly memories and deem me Punished,"

He was scrutinized for some time before being answered by the angels of a Higher Power. "Very well, we shall remove all of your earthly memories for you, but you still must bleed upon the crucifix to Atone for your sins."

He bowed his head and let himself be dragged away to his Punishment. There was worse things to be had than this. As it was, he merely flinched when the nails were punctured through his palms and sagged against the cross for support. Some of the blood trailed down and caught onto his wings, making the feathers stick together, and he ruffled them with irritation.

He barely felt the crack of whips as he was only whipped enough to bleed.

Dean's mouth latched onto the angel's skin and sucked and sucked until teeth were scraping against his skin enough to bleed him...

They spread out in rivulets that traced his body.

Dean's hands traced the outline of his body...

Falling everywhere at once, rushing, and dripping in a hurry.

Dean grunted as he slammed into Castiel fast and furiously, sweat like a nice sheen on both their bodies from trying to reach climax so swiftly, as the angel grit his teeth and hissed. All it took was one look into either of their eyes to know that they both wanted this. That Castiel liked being his dirty secret. Sam was going to enter the room at any moment and it added a certain thrilling rush, needing to be done in a hurry to preserve their secret...

It wasn't painful. Every drop of blood was instead erasing the pain of his memories from his body and his mind.

"I just don't think I can do this any more, Cas..."

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be..."

"Cas, you know- you know that I..."

"...I never stopped loving you..."

"God, Cas, if you die on me..."

"Castiel..."

"Please, Cas..."

"So, I guess...this is the end..."

"As you wish..."

Castiel awoke with a small frown. It was white and the angels were singing loudly. I must be in Heaven. He attempted to move out of the position he was in, but his arms refused to cooperate. He turned his head to the side with a puzzled expression. He was being Punished, that much was clear, but he could not remember why. He had never Doubted, had always followed the Lord's orders without question, hesitation. He had never been Tempted to Fall, had never remained on earth for longer than necessary. He could not understand.

"Hello, brother," an oddly familiar voice greeted. He picked his head up to discern the identity.

"Anna..." he sighed with relief. "Why am I here?"

"You are being Punished for committing something that I, too, have done. And with the same human as I did, too,"

"Sins of the flesh," he scowled at her still blank stare. "I would never."

"But you did," she said grinning, taking a few steps forward. She reached out and held the sides of his face steady and leaned into the space between them until her mouth was at his ear. Her eyes darkened suddenly and her voice was more stern, as if sharing a secret not meant to be known by anyone. "You must never forget," she began and pulled away. This time she position herself closer to his mouth, aware of the suspicious glance he gave her, and used her fingers to pry open his lips.

She exhaled into his mouth, her words drifting weightlessly along with the breath. "His name is Dean Winchester and we need you to find him for us."

Castiel blinked, shaking his head and felt slightly unnerved by the fact that he could still feel her breath inside of him. But before he could ask any more questions, she was gone.