A/N: Hey guys! I'm back and ready for more action, but this time I'm tackling a different universe! The universe of some of the hottest guys to ever grace the small screen: "SUPERNATURAL!" *Cue cheering and applause* Okay guys, cut it out! I know you're excited, but you need some key information first!

1) Dean has never met Castiel. This is before the Apocalypse mumbo-jumbo.
2) Dean has had dreams through his entire life of battles between angels (mainly Castiel) and the Nephilim. The Winchesters have read up about and have even tackled Nephilim before so they know who/what they are. (There's a little background information in the story for those who don't know.)
3) There's no Sammy wherever the hell Dean is. I dunno, I might bring him in if I decide to make the story longer than a one-shot.
4) I'm gonna shut up after this, so beware of a slight Dean/Castiel slash. Nothing major/serious, but there is some implied fluff. *wink wink*

ENJOY!

Falling. Depending on the situation, it can be good or bad. Distances and circumstances have profound effects on whether it's one or the other, but falling an infinite distance toward a planet made of solid rock definitely constitutes as bad. For me though, this instance was both a blessing and a curse, for it introduced me literally to the angel of my dreams, but doomed me to the dreaded Nephilim.

The Nephilim are thought to be one of the most evil races to ever walk the Earth, besides the Morning Star himself. A form of pure evil born from the lust of the daughters of man and the fallen Sons of God that have plagued mankind since before the Great Flood. Spending their days corrupting the entire human race, the Nephilim bide their time, waiting for the turn of power.

It was a huge crashing sound that woke me up in the early morning. Grabbing the handgun that I kept in my rucksack, I slowly made my way outside the motel room. A pale glow illuminated my way, growing brighter and brighter as I got closer to the source. Lying in a small crater in my backyard was a man with striking features. He had jet black hair and ice blue eyes that seemed to have been carved from a glacier.

I gasped in shock. "Castiel?"

The figure weakly turned his head toward me. "You... know... what I am."

"You're from my dreams. You're an angel. So why the hell aren't you in Heaven, singing hymns and pruning your fluffy wings?"

He mumbled quietly back, "A Guardian of the Throne of Heaven. The Throne of God... It needs saving."

I was confused. Why was Castiel here and most importantly, why was he telling me all of this? Hell, I didn't even believe in angels and 'the good side' until this joker practically fell on me. "Why? What do you mean 'the Throne of God needs saving'? Who from?"

Castiel closed his eyes and muttered a single word, "Nephilim." All of the dreams that had plagued me since childhood flashed through my mind. Every single ghastly thought and action was relived; every book verse I had ever read about the horrid creature read themselves aloud to me.

The angel slowly got to his feet and caught his bearings. "They are coming and we need to prepare. Come."

Apparently staying in a pokey complex in nowhere town was a good thing. Castiel had plenty of room and hidden spaces to work with, setting traps and explosives made of Holy Fire, the very substance from which angels are formed. The bastard wouldn't even let me help, which wasn't any fun. He rigged everything to be set off at the slightest touch, so I was forced to wait inside.

After everything was sufficiently set up, Castiel came back inside and I launched into the mini interrogation that I had come up with in his absence.

"Okay buddy, tell me this. Why am I involved in all of this, huh?"

Castiel seemed slightly taken aback. "It is your destiny, Dean Winchester. You have been prepared to help the garrisons of angels since your birth. The Fates knew that this day would come."

"The Fates?" I asked sceptically, "I thought that they were in Greek mythology, like Sirens and Poseidon, not in the Bible."

"All religion has the same foundations for their beliefs; they are just portrayed, honoured or written in different ways," Castiel replied, like some Holy Fortune Cookie.

I pondered this quickly before jumping into my next question. "Why here? Is there any particular reason why the next Holy Battle is about to occur in some random motel parking lot, which just happens to have my Impala parked in it?"

"There are gates to Hell, you know this, but there are also gates to Heaven. We managed to seal all of the entrances off, except for one. The last one is here."

Gates, Fates, Heaven and Hell. I was about to offer a very colourful explanation as to why I quit being a hunter, but was interrupted by an explosion.

"They are here. Dean, take this. It may save your life, but in the mean time, stay inside," Castiel ordered as he handed me an intricate dagger.

Explosion after explosion, scream after scream, I remained inside feeling helpless. This wasn't what I was born to do and I had no idea why I had agreed to stay indoors anyway. I was no use to the angels dead, but I was no use to them hiding either. My resolve? To aid them in their attempt for victory, kick some Nephilim ass and try not to die. I grabbed the elaborate dagger and raced outside to join the fight between good and evil.

Rushing out unprepared was one of the worst things I had ever done and I had done some pretty stupid things. Angels and Nephilim were battling to the death as bright flashes of light erupted as Grace left deceased angels' bodies. Suddenly, I was scared for my life and wanted to go back to my safe hiding spot inside the house, but stayed to help. It was my destiny after all.

I reached for the nearest Nephil with my dagger at the ready. Unfortunately, for some bloody reason, the bitch managed to spin me so that my back was to her and my knife was at my own neck. Only one thought went through my head at that moment, Shit.

At that point in time though, Castiel rushed forward to help me. "Let him go! He is the Key and cannot help you if he is dead!

"The Key? What Key?" I managed to spit out.

The Nephil hissed at me. "Gates have locks, don't they? What do you need to open locks, you impotent fool?"

I glared daggers at the knife at my neck as I couldn't actually glare at the Nephil. "A: Don't touch me. B: I am not some ridiculous key. And C: Never, ever put a knife to my throat!"

As fast as I could, I seized the Nephil's wrist and spun her around, incapacitating her. "Now, what were you saying? Ah, that's right! Something about 'The Key'. Well, the angels need me to shut the gate and you need me to keep it open."

"My God, I think he's got it!" the Nephil chuckled darkly.

"Shut up!" I ordered, "I haven't finished yet! My personal opinion on this is that you can take your sorry ass selves and jump into the fiery pit of Hell that I just crawled out of. I telling you, it is absolutely fabulous! There's a 24/7 sauna with your name on it, but I'd be careful if I were you. The temperature is just that little bit too hot. So much in fact that it peels the flesh right off of your bones..."

Even after my scary little rant, the little bitch had the tenacity to laugh. "Dean, Dean, Dean," she berated, "You just don't get it do you? You're no use to us! The gate is still wide open; it's the angels that need you!"

Jerking her arm back and twisting around, the Nephil got a clear shot at my chest and she took it. A deep voice screamed for the Nephil stop, just as she lifted the dagger and plunged it into my chest. Hands grabbed at me from all sides as I was swallowed by the black abyss once again.

A/N: What did you think? Continue or leave as is? There's a funny story behind this piece of writing. It's actually a short story I wrote for a school English assignment (I have an obsession with mythology)! I tweaked it a little, added in some little bits and tada! A Supernatural fanfic! So yeah, I don't usually ask this, but please review! I want to know if you think that I should continue in this fandom/fanfic.