Disclaimer: If you recognize it then it isn't mine.

Pairing: Cas/Dean

He knows it isn't his name. That this isn't his life. There is something just out of reach. The answer to who he is and where he's been. The answer is so close to the tip of his tongue but he can't quite grasp it. It's in the green leaves and grass.

The rich green of his favorite color.

In freckles he sees on strangers' faces. In the pies he sees when they go out to eat or when his 'wife' bakes. In burgers and diners and motels and pop culture references he struggles to grasp. The word 'hunter' stirs something in his mind but it drifts away before he can figure it out. So many little things seem to hold the answer but they're not the answer.

The woman, Daphne Allen, who found him is nice. She has offered him a home and care. Someone to simply have around and who understands his situation. They're 'married' as some kind of cover for his presence at her house and eventually he finds a friend in her. Feels genuine affection for Daphne and enjoys simply talking with her. But it isn't the same and he simply tries to solve the puzzle with so few pieces.

Discovers that not only does he hear a rough voice constantly talking...maybe it's praying?...to Cas but that he can help people. He can heal them. So he sets out to make a difference. To give back in some small way and works to make others' lives better. Because even if he has no idea who he is or if there is family looking for him there are people who need some kind of help. Help he can provide.

So he goes on with his life. Struggles to find answers. Eats way too many burgers and an unhealthy amount of pie. Listens to the warm voice talking in his head. Telling stories of supernatural hunts and creatures. Others about different diners and ratings of their different pies. Sometimes the voice simply talks. In a steady tone or others full of emotion. He feels tears burning the backs of his eyes when that warm voice turns to pleading. Choked words ripping into his heart and all he wants to do is find this man. Drag him close and tell him it'll be ok. Things get better and his friend knows how he feels but he can't.

One day he overhears two people talking and a name causes his lungs to freeze.

Dean.

There is something about it and he knows it means more to him then words could describe. That this one name is one of the single most important things in the world and it holds his answers. Everything is in that one name and something tells him that the voice he hears at all hours belongs to Dean.

Sometimes he sees flashes. Wide green eyes. Steely determination. Different motel rooms and places. But there is one image that constantly flashes across his mind and it's comforting. A warm, bright and pure glow. Something tells him it's a human soul. The brightest and most pure in creation. That knowledge pushes him to continue helping others and he comes to realize that the light he has been seeing in others, that pales in comparison to the one he sometimes remembers, are their souls.

So when he comes back to see a demon killed outside the house he's called home for months and sees the bright, shining soul before him a part of him knows this man. Knows it's Dean. When the man speaks the voice is the most familiar thing to his ears since he woke up months ago. The green in Dean's eyes a perfect match to the color he has fixated on.

But the soul.

That bright, pure and shining soul reaches out for him and Emmanuel knows this man has the answers. Feels it surge through a connection his mind had been unaware of until this moment.

He knows that if he goes with Dean, helps his brother, that somehow he'll know who he is. Where he belongs and why he has heard Dean's voice in his head since he first woke up before he was found. They get into a car that smells like home and he listens to Dean talking. To the music playing in the beautiful black car. The Impala.

Baby.

The affectionate name his mind supplies and those memories, sensations and feelings that were so far away before have moved closer. They're right there. Whispering at him to remember. To accept them back and he knows it's close.

Bestest friends.

And when it all comes back to him in a rush. Wings and halos. Heaven and Hell. Angels and Demons. The Righteous Man and his brother. Dean and Sam Winchester. His own name.

Castiel

Every memory seems so dull until the moment he reached out and gripped Dean's soul in Hell. Pulled him from Hell, felt the hunter grip him back, before he cradled him in his grace. Repaired Dean's body. Watched the hunter overcome the odds again and again. Fighting for others and not caring what happened to himself.

Saving the world.

Saw the instant he'd fallen in love with Dean Winchester. How he rebelled and died. Came back and fell from grace. Every moment from the first one he laid a hand on Dean so much richer than past memories. Full of emotion and care and love and trust. Of a family he'd managed to find for himself. One he would willing die for every time.

But he'd made the wrong choice, hurt his hunter and Sam, proclaimed himself god and destroyed so much. His siblings in Heaven. And despite all of that his hunter had still prayed to him. Had mourned his loss and prayed for his return. Continued to talk to him every day. A constant presence in his mind and along his grace. He remembered the pain and loss in those prayers. How he could distantly feel the numbing effects of alcohol that didn't seem to help Dean but the hunter kept trying. Kept pushing forward despite the pain tearing him up inside.

Castiel would make this right. He would fix Sam Winchester no matter the cost to himself. He needed to fix his mistakes.

Looking into the green eyes even as he argued outwardly, tried to walk away, the whole time he knew he wouldn't leave. Couldn't.

Dean was a magnet and he kept finding himself pulled there to him. When the Impala's trunk is opened and the trench coat pulled out a warmth swept through his grace. And he could see it there in Dean's soul screaming back at him.

The love he felt for Dean was returned completely no matter his failures.