The wind ruffled his hair, the light scent of summer guiding his nose into the air, following it, breathing in the smell of sunshine and green, the essence of peace.

That peace was what held him , calmed him. The sounds of birds singing about their daily lives, the sound of leaves rustling in that bittersweet breeze. The buzz of the bees that never failed to put a smile to his soft worn lips./p

Except today.

Today, was... different.

His hands twisted together in his lap, a twinge of faded horrors written in the desperate clench of flesh to fragile bone. It was years ago now, the reason behind this subtle desperate grip to fractured reality. But that's the thing. It may have been years ago, but scars never fade, not really.

They are just... there.

Waiting.

Waiting for the moment your concentration slips...

Your resolve weakens...

And then the horrors grip you. Building endless nightmares behind your tired eyes. Nightmares that grip your heart and tear it to shreds, and send your soul quaking into the deepest corners of you shattered mind. And your body does nothing to fight. It just shakes. The terror holding it in some kind of paralysis, terror all it knows, like a rabbit caught in the headlights. You can see the danger coming, but you can do nothing to shake it.

This feeling, this terrifying feeling... new and old at the same time.

It stirred something in him, along with the horror and fresh nightmares.

A feeling of... belonging.

It was strange, yet, comforting at the same time.

It was strange to think a man could belong in a world of lingering shadows and twisted nightmares. But when a man has only known horror, finding himself in the safety of a peaceful land only causes him discomfort, unsure of what this world might bring. At least in the world of horror he knew around the corner would be horror. A fresh load of crap designed to either send you to your deathbed trying to hold your tattered reality together, or makes you stand and fight. In a land of peace, the corner is an unknown, a hurdle that seems too high to jump. You spend your waking moments wishing you could awake and find yourself in the familiar embrace of fear and longing for the darkness that made your life seem worthwhile.

So he clung to the sanity that horror brings him.

As his hands began to slowly unravel, the man began to regain his composure. A grip on reality was snatched with both hands, forcing his mind back, back into light.

Castiel glanced upwards, his hands moving from his lap to grip the bench beneath him, anchoring him , securing him to the reality he was in.

He had to stay here.

He must not flee the horror.

It was important that he stayed here.

To wait...

Castiel glanced at the trees surrounding him, the feathered leaves swaying, countless numbers of birds hidden in their protective branches, but their soft songs still filled the air with music. He drifted along on the music, losing himself, drifting off into memories.

A small twitch of his mouth echoed long forgotten orders. Angels do not lose themselves to memories. They fight on, a silver sword held to the throats of demons. Hope and faith their weapons. Pure light their reward.

Memories are the domain of humans. Not immortals. Angels need only faith. Only faith.

Angels should not dwell in the memories of angels who died fighting for that faith.

Before they become soldiers, angels are taught one thing. No, not taught. Drilled. A lesson drilled into their minds until they can become the angel they were meant to be.

You must have faith in your Father. Because without faith how can you have belief in your orders. And without belief in your orders how could you possibly fight the darkness that exists beneath the skin of of life?

Castiel used to believe in that. He held it close to him at all times. It made him rise through the ranks. And when Anna fell, his strong belief and faith in the system gained him the command of a garrison. He was a model angel as it were, to use human analogies.

But all of that, all of those strong foundations were shaken to the core, weakened, with just one simple act.

It was supposed to be a routine mission.

He was so proud that he was chosen to do this, the most important of God's work.

No one could have predicted how everything could change, when he placed his hand upon that broken man.

So many angels have spoken about how he was lost as soon as he mended that soul.

And back then, Castiel would have agreed with them.

This human went against everything he was made to do. Refused to follow God's plan.

It frustrated him, to think that a human had the impudence to carelessly push away the path laid before him.

And there was anger too. Anger at how he fought him at every turn, anger at how he denounced the importance his life played.

But more then anything, Castiel was angry at himself. Not because of what this human was doing but because he was allowing this human to break him. This human was making him feel. Frustration and anger were not what angels should feel. Soldiers don't feel.

Even the anger was wrong. Not allowed.

He was, in all senses, already lost.

He just didn't know it yet.

Angel's shouldn't feel

But there was.. something else too. Behind the frustration.

He was... feeling for the human. Something subtle. It couldn't be found beneath the frustration and anger that ruled him. But it was there, clinging to life. Just waiting to be released.

Castiel couldn't describe what it was. But it was there.

It was there in the first moment he met him. When this human felt he did not deserve to be saved. Castiel felt something.

A flutter deep inside. An urge to correct this human.

But Castiel shoved it deep down. His job was to guide this human along the path of stopping the apocalypse, his fate to kill the devil. He was not there to soothe his shattered soul.

But he couldn't keep this feeling away.

He found himself becoming less and less... celestial.

He felt for this human in a way he could not describe.

Sure he loved humans, every Angel was honour bound to love their Father's creations, marvel at their beauty and diversity and their tenacity for life.

But this was different. New. Wrong.

The depths this new feeling had, amazed him. But it was not allowed.

So he hid it deep, deep within him.

But it still fought through. Breaking through his walls, exposing itself briefly, but enough for others to notice.

The admiration he had for the simple, incredibly strong, belief this man held in his brother. Even when his brother was straying into the territories of darkness. His belief still held.

His willingness to sacrifice himself for others.

How he was not afraid to cry.

A man breaking before him, bruised in a hospital bed. And he provided the words to do that.

A simple yes. The answer to his question.

Castiel could not look at him.

How painful words could be.

A simple glance down when his human kissed his former commander, Anna, as she offered herself to be taken.

His.

Already he had claimed him.

Heaven started to notice things.

They began to question.

He avoided them. Told them that he was fine.

Fine. A human word.

It did not convince them.

Already there were whispers of him as lost. Whispered around him... as if they were already mourning him.

And he agreed with them.

He had begun to doubt his orders, doubt heaven.

He needed answers.

Only one had them.

Anna.

But she said she could not help him. He must find his own way.

He was reluctant to go on. How could he find his way in this alien world?

But he struggled on. Trying to fight his new self whilst simultaneously embracing it. But he could not sacrifice his faith. He became confused.

And scared.

Heaven was moving. Moving to change him. Bring him back to base line angel.

He wanted to be a true soldier but he didn't want to give up this new life.

It had so much vibrancy and depth to it.

He needed it.

Heaven took away his command. Took him away. Gave his human to Uriel.

He was upset. He was too close. He said. You.

But he kept fighting.

He moved towards his human. Gravitating around him like he was air he needed desperately to breathe.

He reached out to him, through his dreams, and asked for help.

But it was too late.

Heaven bound him, dragged him back. There they... re-educated him.

~

He came back colder. He walked away from him. But not even the might of heaven could turn back the tide this human had started.

He came back. Tore him self away from heaven.

To fight beside his human.

To die for him.

He gave up his faith for him.

~

Sure, there were blips along the way.

His desperate want to save Heaven and secure it so all Angels could taste the freedom he enjoyed so much.

He lost him.

He looked at him with pained eyes, willing him to say that he wasn't working with a demon.

He couldn't do it. He tore his eyes away.

He may not have seen it, bu he felt it.

He broke him.

And that pained him more than any words could describe.

Yet he still went ahead!

How cold must he be, to carry on when he had lost the one man who truly believed in him. The one human who he was willing to lose his faith for, willingly gave his faith for.

And he went ahead, damaged his brother.

He was no longer an Angel.

Looking back now, he shuddered at how he found Heaven more important.

Heaven was a place where souls went to dwell. Kind and brave souls.

But Heaven was also an idea, something you can place you belief in, that it will be there to catch you when you fall.

He had found that in him. And he passed over him to fight for something that was just a place.

He realized too late his mistake.

And as he glanced at that portal, ready to take away his mistakes, he knew he had to say something.

I'm sorry.

~

Even after all that, his human still came back to him. Fought for him.

He forgave him.

After everything he had done.

He forgave him.

And he began to remember again.

Remember the vibrance that he used to feel.

But he still felt guilty.

So he gave himself again. Broke himself to save the one thing his human truly cared for.

His brother.

~

Even then his human still placed belief in him.

I'd rather have you, cursed or not

He began to understand.

Words whispered in the past.

Next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family. You are like a brother to me. Please. Don't make me lose you too.

This man was his, family. A bond that could not be broken. And he finally understand what family was. You fought for each other, regardless of what they did. Whether it was demon blood or an addiction to the power souls gave, you forgave each other.

And you fought with them.

So of course he would come with him always, protect him.

I'll go with you of course. And I'll do my best.

~

He left him to protect him.

He pained him to leave him.

Surrounded by monsters.

But to protect him he had to leave.

~

Castiel shifted his gaze, the memories fading. Green leaves swayed in front of his eyes again.

He smiled as he glanced down, a soft glow from his hands.

He was still an Angel.

He had just found what every Angel had lost. Something they hadn't realize they had lost.

Something he didn't realize he had lost.

His humanity.

When he first laid a hand on your in hell he was lost

For the Angels they had every belief in this statement. They lived for Heaven.

But now, he no longer agreed.

When he had laid his hand on him, he was not lost, he was found.

The answer lay not above but in a single person.

~

A hand gripped his shoulder, and he glanced over the smile already reaching his lips.

Those familiar eyes he had studied for so long still held the same vibrancy that had always awed him. A sparkle that could never be doused. The leaves in the trees could not match the deep green he come to know so well.

The hair around his temples had faded to grey, but this man was still young.

No hunters die old.

"You could have made yourself easier to find." He grumbled, his gruff voice resonating with his grace.

"I apologize Dean."

Dean grinned as he sat on the bench beside him, staring at the trees around him.

" You will watch over him?" Dean asked, his gaze rested on his hands twisted in his lap.

"I will watch over Sam. I promised, I intend to keep this one. I do not wish to fail you again."

Dean glanced up. His eyes searching the bright blue of his own.

"Just make sure he leads a good life. Full of kids. The while apple pie lifestyle. Make sure he names one after me."

Castiel smiled as he glanced down at his lap. He sensed the words that were coming. HIs smile dimmed.

"And make sure he doesn't cut any deals to resurrect me or anything."

Castiel frowned. His gaze never moved from his lap but he had to ask...

"Are you sure this is what you want Dean."

Dean sighed.

"I'm tired Cas. I'm ready to move on. I mean I saved the world how many times? Guy deserves a rest every now and then..." He paused his hands twisting trying to find the right words. "And I just want to be... peaceful."

"As you wish Dean."

Castiel moved to leave from the bench. He had to look over Sam. His last promise to Dean.

A hand gripped his wrist.

"Stay... at least for a moment"

He sat back down and the hand released him.

All those Angels who talked of him loving Dean. And how Dean loved him back.

They couldn't be more true.

But the words did not need to be said to be felt.

How can the words describe how he felt.

Just the simple act of staying, when before he had fled, was more than enough to say everything.

And he would stay.

Till the end of days.

"Always Dean."