Author note: Please read the song lyrics, because if you don't you might be confused at the end. Also, there are SPOILERS in this chapter up until season 7. BE WARNED! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Carry on My Wayward Son. Those belong to Eric Kripke and Kansas, respectively.

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"Once I rose above the noise and confusion,

just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion,

I was soaring ever higher,

but I flew too high.

Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man,

though my mind could think I still was a mad man.

I hear the voices when I'm dreaming,

I can hear them say:"

"Cas, please, don't do this." Dean's voice screamed in Castiel's mind. Even though he knew that Dean wasn't really there, even though he knew that these words had been spoken months before, and that Dean no longer cared about his well being, Castiel couldn't stop the surge of excitement at hearing Dean's voice, or the guilt that immediately followed. The strong emotion was almost enough to force him back into hallucinations.

At first, it had been nearly impossible for Castiel to break out of his insanity long enough to even catch his breath. He had lost track of time in his mind, with the voice of his brother perpetually ringing in his ear, taunting him, mocking him. It had probably only been a few weeks since he took Sam's burden onto himself, but it felt like an eternity. Time had no meaning in the horror that was his mind. All Castiel could see was his mistakes, the people that he had killed. His hands were stained red with the blood of those humans. The worst vision wasn't even created by his insanity, it was a real image that he kept replaying over and over again; it was the look of disappointment and disgust on Dean's face near the end, that horrible heartbreaking look.

Ever since Castiel had pulled Dean from perdition, the human had steadily grown on him. For the first time, the angel had truly cared about someone other than his father. Dean was a bright and shining beacon, he was a glorifying example of the beauty of the human race, and Castiel had been stunned by him. Dean made him want to be a better person, but Dean also made him question, the worst sin an angel can commit.

For a few months, only the blink of an eye in the span of an angel's life, Castiel had felt what it was like to be human, to doubt, to love. He had questioned his creator, rebelled against all of Heaven, and had killed his own brothers, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to regret those actions. He regretted that they were necessary, but not that he committed the sins themselves. For once in his life, Castiel knew what he was doing was right. He had been born to raise Dean Winchester from Hell, born to help him with his mission. In the end, there was only one thing that Castiel had true belief in, and that was Dean.

To have that utter belief in a human was dizzying. There were times when Castiel wondered if he was doing the right thing, but that seemed to be the point of being human, to question. That was their gift from God, the reason why were his chosen children. In those days, even though Castiel lost the use of his wings and his powers, he had never felt more like he was flying.

But then the crash came. Castiel's faith in Dean was tested and he almost lost everything, and even though, in the end, everything had worked itself out, a new barrier had come between them. Sam was gone and Dean was destroyed by it. He didn't know what to do to help Dean, so when he went to Lisa, Castiel kept his distance. He came up with lots of excuses as to why he should avoid Dean, the war with his brothers was the one he used most, but mainly Castiel couldn't stand to see Dean in that life. It was like he was giving up. He just wanted the old Dean back.

If Castiel was being honest with himself, he had become too attached to Dean Winchester. Attached to the point where he became jealous whenever he saw Dean "hook up", as he called it, with women at bars. He had a profound bond with Dean and he didn't like the idea that Dean would value someone more than him. Castiel didn't know much about human emotion, but he knew that Dean did not reciprocate his feelings. It was a burning itch under his skin whenever he was around Dean. He always felt that pull. Castiel decided that it was just something he was going to have to live with, and it would be easier to manage if he didn't have to be around Dean.

Of course, nothing ever works out that easily. Castiel had truly had more faith in his brothers. He had wanted them to learn that humankind was worth saving, that they could now choose how they wanted to live out the rest of their lives by their own will. He had expected too much. Raphael wanted to free Michael and Lucifer from the Pit. He still planned to bring forth the apocalypse. His brothers took sides, some with him, and some with Raphael. The split was about even, but Raphael was an archangel and more of the archangels sided with him than Castiel. Then, the weapons of God went missing and Castiel realized he had no hope of defeating Raphael. Everything that Dean and Sam had worked so hard for was in vain. It was a humbling realization.

When Crowley appeared, Castiel could hardly believe the King of Hell would approach him with such an offer. Saying yes, was the beginning of the madness. It was the single worst mistake of his life, but there seemed to be no other option to save Dean and the world from apocalypse and he honestly thought, that with Dean as his motivation, he would be able to handle the power. So, he brought back Sam and several other souls and set the plan in action. He never planned for Sam to come back in pieces, but it was his mistake. Every horrible act that Sam did while soulless was his fault. The only condolence was that Dean got his brother back and he slowly began to revert back to his normal personality.

While Castiel loved the change, he only allowed himself to take it in from afar, invisibly watching over the brothers, protecting them from the shadows. Dean would not approve of his recent choices. Eventually, he let his guard down and the brothers discovered his plans. Dean, alone, had believed him innocent. Dean had stood for him, defended him against Bobby and Sam, and Castiel was ashamed that he could not face Dean with a free conscious. It was the single worst moment of his life. Dean had pleaded with him to stop, begged him to trust him, but Dean didn't understand. How could a mortal, even a hunter, understand the sheer force of an archangel? There was no other option. Nothing else was powerful enough to stop Raphael. Castiel had prayed to his father too many times to count, begged for an answer, another option, but there was only silence, so he had to believe he was doing the right thing.

But still-

"Cas, please, don't do this." Those words echoed in his head again and Castiel clenched his eyes shut and curled in on himself in the bed, whimpering.

Even with that certainty, there was still doubt nagging at him in the back of his head, that and, the utter look of betrayal on Dean's face. That look stayed with him. Even now, it was etched in the back of his mind, but it was far too late to turn back when the solution was so close. If he hadn't miscalculated Crowley's desire to keep the brothers out of their business deal, then maybe Dean wouldn't have been hurt in the crossfire, if he hadn't lost his patience in the end and taken Sam's barrier down, something that had been too cruel for words, maybe he could have earned forgiveness for what happened next, but he did do those things. Forgiveness would always remain unreachable for him.

The rest was a blur. To some extent, Castiel was in control of his actions, but it was like there was a filter over his vision, a voice pushing him down a path he would forever regret. He could see what he had done plain as day. He could see it, but he couldn't figure out why he had done it. All logical reasoning seemed to have disappeared after he opened the gate. How could he be alive after what he had done? Why did God bring him back again? The only conclusion he could come to was that it was a punishment and every time he came back would get worse and worse.

If he thought he would stay dead, there were many times Castiel would have killed himself in that hospital, but somewhere deep inside, he knew that he would be brought back. No matter how many times he died, God would revive him. It was part of the plan. His time to die had not come yet, so he waited.

At first, thinking about his mistakes was too painful. He lived in brief moments of hallucinations and horror and then fell into blissful quiet sleep. Sleep was his only escape from the memories. It got to the point where Meg would pester him for hours to keep him awake at all. He would have rather slept. In his brief moments of consciousness, his surroundings were hazy and blurry. Slowly, as he got a better grasp on his memories and things began to clear up, he would become aware of his surroundings. He figured out that he was healing himself of the insanity. It scared him.

Insane, Castiel could not threaten the Earth, could not threaten Dean, but if he became of sound mind again, would there be another time where his compromised judgment hurt the one person he truly cared about? These, moments of clarity would come to Castiel and he would send them back again. If being sane meant that he hurt Dean, then he would rather rot in that hospital. Meg didn't seem like she had anything better to do than look after him.

After awhile though, Castiel simply couldn't sleep any more. Angel weren't built to need sleep, that was a human need, and he had long surpassed his body's needs. What resulted were days of mindless insanity. He was haunted by his memories. Finally, he once again succumbed to sleep. When next awoke, he was calmer and his mind was less scrambled, so he thought some more. Eventually, Castiel came to a realization of sorts. He was lonely. He was lonely, and Dean would not come back for him if he was completely useless.

Trying to regain sanity is not an easy task. It is a war against one's mind, a war against the self. For weeks or months, Castiel had been living and rationalizing so deep in his mind that it was difficult to bring his consciousness back to the surface again, but at the same time, he wanted to leave a little bit of himself in the depths. Castiel wanted to regain just enough of himself to be useful to Dean. He didn't trust himself with any more than that.

It was a slow process, but it was worth it when Meg called Sam and Dean. Keeping his conscious deep was hard with Dean there, he longed to beg for forgiveness, but the knowledge that he didn't deserve it kept him from trying, and Dean was confused and angry. He yelled and he screamed at Castiel, but the angel couldn't truly face him, so Dean was yelling at something that didn't fully understand, an almost childlike creature. Castiel had become a tool for Dean to use, not a friend, or a companion. It was the least he felt he could do.

Castiel was ushered into Dean's impala during one of his semi-conscious moments. He was aware that he was ranting about bees or something and that Sam and Dean were in the front seat of the Impala and he was sitting in between Meg and the Prophet of God. The others were arguing about the Leviathan and Dean angrily grunted and switched on the radio. Castiel laid his head on Meg's shoulder, closed his eyes, and breathed in the leathery scent of the Imapala. For the first time in months, he was at peace. He drifted off to sleep with the sound of radio playing in his ear and Sam snapping at Dean to turn it down.

"Carry on my wayward son.

There'll be peace when you are done.

Lay your weary head to rest,

don't you cry no more."