A brief "hello" to whoever is reading this! This is my fifth challenge word, "knees." I thought that since I just finished a particularly humorous and "dirty" story, I would go on to write something dramatic, sad, and a bit fluffy. So here it is. This story, "Until I'm Gone" is the first chapter of a much longer story, which will be written as the challenge words continue (and where you can find the original challenge word four, "babysit"!). I hope you like it, and please know that this story was inspired by a story titled "Second Childhood," which is one of my favorite fanfics. Look it up when you have the time. It's a great story. As for now, I'm done speaking so I will leave you to your reading. Enjoy.

SPN Write-Off Day 4
Challenge Word: "Knees"
Character(s): Dean/Castiel, Sam
Chapter Rating: K (For Now)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort.
Setting: Sometime in Season 5.

Until I'm Gone

This was not a dream Dean had often, nor was it a dream that held any particular impact. It was just a simple dream, and a long forgotten memory.

Here in this dream, John sat on his favorite living room chair. He was watching some late-night rerun, and he was wearing his pajama bottoms and his Marine Corps t-shirt. Dean knew, even as he was dreaming, that that was not really the shirt his father wore that day. It was just the shirt Dean remembered most - and he did not want to remember why.

"Daddy?" Dean, still only four years old, had walked into the room wearing one of John's oversized t-shirts, the ends (slightly tattered from use) had reached down to the boy's knees.

"Dean?" His father had asked, turning around in his seat. "What are you doing up this late? Its past your bedtime."

"I had a nightmare," Dean said, walking over to his father's side. Dean tugged at the bottom of his shirt, then, and looked up at his father, expectant.

John smiled lazily. "A nightmare, huh?" He asked, bending forward to scoop his hands under his child's arms. He lifted him up onto his lap, and Dean moved to rest his head against his father's chest. He could hear the man's gentle heartbeat, and that alone calmed him. "Sit with me for a while. You'll forget it, soon enough..."

But the nightmares would just continue, Dean thought the moment he woke up to find himself in yet another motel bed, in yet another forgettable city. He lay there a while, in the dark, the lights from the city outside shinning in from the small gape between the curtains. Mismatched shadows glided almost rhythmically against the ceiling, accompanied by the sounds of rushing cars and people from the busy streets outside.

With a soft sigh, Dean turned to look at the clock beside his bed, only to find giant red numbers glaring back at him. 2:31, it read. And the city is still alive...

For a brief moment, Dean considered slipping out of bed, grabbing his jacket, heading outside and getting in the impala. He thought of driving in the city, at night, the cool breeze across his face... Of getting a beer at a local bar.

All his thoughts of leaving stopped when he heard the bed springs across the room creak once, gently, as Sam shifted his weight. Sam... if only he had had the normal life he wanted. The life they both wanted, so long ago... They could have had their own families, their own homes, their own normal jobs... They could have been...ordinary.

Dean turned back around to lie on his back and face the ceiling. There was no reason for that kind of thought now. It could never happen, not after all they've been through. And did he even want that anymore?

He watched lazily as the shadows passed, looking for something in each figure, but not knowing exactly what it was... What I'd give for a clean start.

"Dean."

Dean closed his eyes at the sound of that deep voice, and he thought again of what his father's heart beat felt like, all those years ago. "Hey, Cas."

"Were you...resting?"

Dean opened his eyes and sat up in bed, leaning his back against the headrest. He turned once to look over at Sam, but he lay undisturbed. "No," Dean said, turning to face Castiel. "I was awake."

The angel shifted slightly as he stood, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I can return at another-"

"Cas, really, its fine." Dean yawned softly. "What is it?"

Castiel took a step forward and sat on the edge of Dean's bed, his eyes cast down to some loose thread on the bedspread. He rolled the piece of thread between his forefinger and thumb while he spoke. "There was an...accident."

"An accident?" Dean echoed, leaning closer to the angel. "What kind of accident?"

"I... I seem to have fallen victim to a curse, Dean." The angel said softly, turning to face Dean. His bright blue eyes stared endlessly. "One I cannot undo."

"Is there something I can do?" Dean asked, hopefully.

The angel just smiled a soft, sad smile. "Not at this time."

"There has got to be something..."

"One of my brothers has offered his assistance."

"Which?"

"Gabriel."

Dean was silent for a moment. He could not be sure how much help the trickster could be, but out of all of the angels Dean supposed Gabriel wasn't that bad of a choice. "What's the curse?"

"It is a binding curse," the angel said as he turned to look up at Dean. "It traps me inside this vessel, indefinitely."

"That can't be too bad..."

"There is a second curse, as well, Dean. An aging curse."

"So...you're going to grow old?"

"No, younger. It's a reversal."

"Like Benjamin Button?" Dean's sleepiness had all but left him now, as he stared wide eyed.

Castiel looked at him, uncomprehending.

"You're trapped in Jimmy," Dean explained, relaying the information. "...and Jimmy just keeps getting younger and younger until... until what, exactly?"

Castiel looked down at the piece of thread, and plucked it from the sheet. "Until I'm gone."

"Gone?" The word seemed heavy and final in this dark, quiet room. At the mere mention of the word, something inside Dean tightened. "How...What... What do you mean, gone? Like Houdini gone, or - or-"

Dean realized his voice had raised in his panic, and he was no longer whispering, but almost yelling. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sam turn in bed to face them. "Dean? Cas? What are you-"

"Tell him, Dean," Castiel said, coming to a stand.

Dean noticed the look in Castiel's eyes, and change in the curve of his shoulders. "Don't you dare leave me now, Cas-"

But it was too late. Castiel was already gone. Dean, defeated, slid back down and raised the blankets over his head. He then placed another pillow over his ear, blocking out Sam's voice. As Dean's nightmares continued, the only heartbeat he could count on was the one he heard now, rising from his chest to the pit of his throat... But really, he wondered, how long will I even have that?

...to be continued.