A/N: This story was written for haizegato, who asked for a Dean and Castiel POV of 'Once Upon a Broken Dream'. I would recommend reading that first before embarking on this adventure. It'll help fill in the gaps in this story.

I was going to post this on Wednesday, but after the trauma that I experienced by the hands of Supernatural, I couldn't force myself to do it. I don't own anything to do with Supernatural and their works. 'Tis true.

Sometimes I feel I've got to

Run away I've got to

Get away

From the pain that you drive into the heart of me

The love we share

Seems to go nowhere

And I've lost my light

For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night

Once I ran to you

Now I'll run from you

This tainted love you've given

I give you all a boy could give you

Take my tears and that's not nearly all

-Tainted Love, Soft Cell

There are three things that Dean knew for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, he let Castiel die a virgin, multiple times. And Three, when monsters die in purgatory they come right back like those fucking soldiers in the video games. Just wait a few hours and they respawn like cockroaches from Hell. It didn't matter how many times you cut off their heads, they would come crawling right back, stronger and angrier than ever.

Dean was currently running through the vampire zone of purgatory, the area that the vampires had deemed their own, a dense section of the forest where light never touched the ground and nothing made a sound. There were no leaves on the ground, no branches rustling in the wind. The silence was deafening, crawling into Dean and making his heart pound.

He didn't need super senses to know that his heartbeat could be heard miles away, the only sound vibrating and carrying among the stillness. Dean paused in his sprint across the seemingly endless territory, placing his back against a tree, trying to get out of as many lines of sight as possible. Dean took deep breaths, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat and gulps of air. Dean knew that this wouldn't make the vampires lose his trail, but it did make it that much harder.

Dean wiped at his forehead, his hand peeling off some of the dried blood that he had put there earlier in what Dean had determined to be that day. Time passed differently in Purgatory as it did in Hell and Heaven. At least there it was easy to tell the difference between one day and another, here it was just one big blur, never starting and never ending. Almost as if time itself had stopped.

Dean's smell was what gave him away; humans had a particular odor to them, a sent that attracted the monsters to their prey. In purgatory that scent was magnified, Dean a walking beacon for every monster he had ever come across and some he had never even heard of before, going extinct generations before his time. Dean had found out very quickly that no matter how many times he washed himself or walked through rivers and streams, there was nothing he could do to rid himself of that scent. It was a cloak that followed him around and clung to his being. So Dean did the next best thing, if he couldn't get rid of the smell, he would mask it.

It was a lengthy process as he tried combinations of blood and innards, trying to find that one scent that would over power his own. Unfortunately, it was different for every monster, each scent drawing or repelling according to their own unique senses. Currently for Vampires it was the blood of shape shifters and skin walkers mixed with the juices of werewolf adrenal glands.

Dean froze when he heard the shuffle of fabric to his right, slowing his breathing down to a whisper, his grip tightening on his makeshift weapon. It was a large piece of slate-like rock that he had found near the river he had appeared next to. The handle was the femur of the first monster Dean had killed, a poor ghoul who was the first to track Dean's scent down. He had used a ribbon of it's clothing to tie the bone to the rock, making sure that they would stay together permanently. The weapon had seen every type of monster purgatory had to throw at him save for Leviathan. Dean had yet to see one of them, wondering what was keeping them away.

The vampire finally came into Dean's sight, coming around the tree and taking a deep breath. It's nose crunched at the unpleasant scent, fangs bared. The man was dressed in old-fashioned trousers, a thick black wool coat covering the cotton shirt he wore, a black cap covering his head.

Dean tensed again, waiting for the vampire to take one more step, just those few more inches and he would be in the perfect position for Dean to cut off his head. No matter what monster it was, cutting off their head always seemed to give Dean enough time to get away, always running for his life before they had the chance to come after him again.

The vampire was just about to take that final step when his eyes snapped to Dean, eyes flashing, and teeth bared. Dean swung, body following the momentum of his arm, putting his entire weight behind the weapon. Just for a moment Dean thought about how much he hated how easy the movies make decapitation seem, like it was carving a knife through butter. This was far from the truth. To put it more accurately it was like using that same butter knife to carve up a raw roast, bone in. The amount of strength to keep the blade going was enormous, most people had to swing twice just to cut through the jugular, let alone make it through the spine. That was the hardest part, making it through the spine. Sometimes Dean got lucky and hit in between the vertebra, a hard target to hit but making his job ten times easier. When he hit bone it made decapitation all the harder. Before Dean knew what he was really doing, this was when he was about ten years old, he would have to hack at the bone once the blade went through the beasts neck, the bone resisting against the metal. Of course, the sharper the blade is, the easier it is to slice the tendons and veins, but no matter what, it was always physically demanding, always a labor to sever the mass of muscles, hardened flesh, and bone. People in Hollywood never knew what they were talking about. Don't even get Dean started about cutting someone throat. They never got anything right.

Dean knew he had waited a second to long when his blade hit the bark of a tree and not the flesh before him. Jerking the knife out, he turned, keeping his eyes on the creature before him and his ears sharp for anything that might be waiting in the shadows.

The vampire circled Dean, Dean moving step for step with him, and growled. Dean switched his weapon from hand to hand, back and forth, waiting for the creature to make the first move. What the vampire did next surprised him; he stopped in his tracks, straightening up with his fangs retreating back into his gums. He seemed to relax, turning to face Dean head on, giving him an open target. Dean didn't relax, his nerves frayed beyond the breaking point. There wasn't a point where he wasn't on edge, he didn't even sleep anymore, and he didn't need to. Dean was on a constant adrenaline rush, the hormone pumping through his veins like blood, making him all the sweeter.

"Hello, my name is Benny." The vampire held out its hand, waiting for Dean to take it.

Dean looked at the appendage that was held out to him then to the creature itself, "Sorry. I don't do monster friends."

Benny pulled his hand back, dipping his head down a fraction while taking a step away from the human, "Sorry to hear that brother, but I think you are going to want to hear what I have to say."

Dean cocked his head, his eyebrows coming together, "Really? Cause I think that anything that comes out of your mouth is crap."

Dean took a step towards the vampire, Benny raising his hands a bit, trying to stop Dean, "Whoa there brother. I can get you out of here."

Dean scoffed at that, "Oh yeah? And how's that? You just gunna call Scottie and he's going to beam us up? Is that it?"

Benny kept his hands out but took a step closer to Dean, slowly, as if to test if the waters were safe, "There's a portal, I don't know where, but it's real."

Dean let out a short and harsh laugh, mocking them monster before him. Benny's face darkened, clearly set off by Dean's laughter, "You are not supposed to be here, so purgatory is trying to kick you out."

Dean stood still for a second, taking in the information before speaking, "You see, here's the deal. You're a monster. I don't trust monsters, I kill them."

That was when Dean lunged, hitting the vampire around the waist and pinning him to the tree behind him. Benny let out a lung full of air, winded from the sudden impact. Dean took that moment that Benny needed to breath again and swung his blade into his neck, burying the knife into the tree. It was a clean-cut, Benny's head falling to the ground; a muffled thump was all the noise it made.

Dean stood over the body, his knife back in his hand, "Suck on that Twilight."