A/N: So I am back. This fanfic here is based off the video by Sapphiamur on youtube. The video title the same as the fanfic. It's a really amazing fanmade trailer that you must check out if you want to truly understand what will happen in this. I do have the other Destiel fanfic to finish up, which will get finished, but I was inspired to write this.

The world was slowly being destroyed; torn apart and broke into as the apocalypse continued to soar. It had gone on years, much longer than Heaven ever expected it too. They believed they had been stronger, that the power of their good would destroy anything Lucifer had to offer. What they didn't expect was Lucifer's army to be ready. They were always more ready for this. They knew the moment their master rose from his cage, war would break out. They had planned it all out, every step of the way. Each motive was tested. They were prepared, too prepared, and the angels were losing hope. The world they knew would be gone if they didn't win this soon.

But alone, they couldn't.

The human race was slowly disappearing as the Croatoan virus slowly made it ways through, and angels decided it was best to not use any living human as a vessel. They couldn't risk losing another breathing being. Therefore, the suggestion for angels to rip out their grace and be reborn as babies came in a meeting, a desperate plan built up as they watched Lucifer proudly claim himself a hero.

"There would be chosen angels and chosen humans", they said. "Those who are true soldiers will be the chosen angels, and the children will be ones who are prophets of the Lord."

The idea was one most in Heaven felt would fail. To choose children to have an angel companion by their side almost seemed comical, but it was their last hope. The child would grow up with their angel, both forming a bond in order to train for their fighting together, and go against Hell and all its monsters. The first angels flew down to Earth, their grace pulled away from them. The newborn were always placed in a home near the home of their chosen human where the two would eventually meet. The grace would be returned to the angel, with apart of it being placed into their human, making them both as strong and protected.

As the humans grew up along side their angels, Heaven saw how it was indeed working. They fought. There were losses, but there were also progress. Wins in defeating demons, ridding them of their wrath and sending them back where they came from.

The humans, or rather, Hunters, would go on with this until their time was done, until the next generation of Hunters were born and old enough to fight.

The angels had rules: to protect, to fight, to train, and to never allow emotions to show through. It couldn't be about emotions. Emotions were forbidden, for they only made room for the heartbreak if the human were to die in war. Angels were not to get attached. That was only looking for trouble, and disobedience against the Lord and the plan. They understood this, though. They made it their promise, knowing too well how easy it would be. They had spent all their time in Heaven, away from the humans. There would be nothing difficult about avoiding their feelings. Their mission was to fight, and to fight they would.

And as the next generation was ready, the angels began, having their grace ripped from them as they fell to Earth.

"You will serve us right," Naomi, one of the leaders in Heaven, shook hands with each angel as they left. She gave them a smile and looked over to the last angel making his way towards her.

"Castiel," she spoke.

"Yes?" the angel responded.

"Remember your duties."

"They are memorized."

"Very good. Be careful, but I know you will do just fine."

"My very best."

"Excellent. Now, make your way to Earth, and to your chosen one..." Naomi stopped, and looked at Castiel. "He was just born, and what was his name again?"

"Dean Winchester."

A creak in the floorboards caused the four year old boy to stiffen in his seat. He listened carefully, hearing another creak. The boy licked his lips and slowly grabbed his father's shotgun. He hadn't actually used it all, but he knew the basics of its use and how to handle it. His father had explained everything, and the boy felt prepared for anything that dared sneak into their house. He carefully slid off the couch, holding the gun up as he made his way quietly through the house. He checked each room, but nothing in sight. The creak came again, and he noted it was from upstairs.

"Sammy," he whispered, making his way up those stairs, hoping to not make a sound. He held the gun steady, his hands almost shaking, but he swallowed hard, knowing he could not fear.

The creak became louder the closer he came, and the boy pressed his back against the wall, waiting for whatever it was to appear in sight as it made its way down to the hall, towards him. He held the gun up against him, ready to jump out and catch the creature.

Another creak, and a few footsteps closer, the boy leaped out from his hiding spot and shouted, "I got you!"

His mother gasped and held her hands up, and the boy's eyes widened, immediately pointing the gun down.

"Oh... hi, Mom," he said, smiling apologetically.

"Dean," Mary Winchester sighed as she shook her head. "I told you I don't want you using that. You are too young." She took the shotgun from her son's hands.

"Dad says I have to be ready," Dean explained to her. "That you never know when trouble will strike."

"We have this house protected," Mary told him. "Nothing will break in even if it tried."

"But-"

"Go to sleep, Dean. It's way passed your bedtime."

Dean frowned, looking down at his feet in disappointment. "I'm not tired."

"I'll tuck you in."

Dean nodded and followed his mother into his bedroom. Mary wrapped the blankets around her son as she smiled at him.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I just love you so much," she said, bending down and kissing his forehead. "Angels are watching over you."

The corners of Dean's lip slowly rose and he turned over on his side, closing his eyes and sighing. Mary patted his pillow a bit and headed towards the door. She took one last glance at her boy before turning closing the door.

"Goodnight, Sammy," Dean heard his mother say in the hallway, her footsteps heading towards the infant's bedroom.

Dean's eyebrows twitched together a bit as he felt something off. A presence uninvited, and then he heard the change in his mother's voice as she said, "Oh my God."

He sniffed, smelling what smelt like... smoke. Dean gasped and jumped out of bed. He practically slipped as he ran out of his bedroom, running straight for his little brother's room.

"Dad!" He called. "Dad! Mom!" As Dean rushed into the bedroom, he froze instantly to see his mother up on the ceiling, burning in flames, screaming in horror.

A man hovered over Sam, but he turned around and gave Dean a grin, a look of pure evil as he blinked to reveal black eyes. He laughed to see the horror on the four year old. John Winchester ran in, immediately struck by the sight of his wife. Though he noticed the demonic creature staring at his oldest son. He picked up Dean from behind, getting him away from the demon in front of them as he carried the kid into the hallway.

"Sammy!" John shouted as he ran back into the bedroom.

The demon laughed its bitter sound some more before vanishing. John didn't even care that the monster had gotten away. He just needed his baby. Grabbing Sam, the flames burst out everywhere, completely devouring Mary. Dean watched as it did so, tears blurring his vision. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. The ache in his chest held him down, and he could barely breathe with all the smoke beginning to fog the house up. John handed Sam over to Dean.

"Run outside, Dean," John told him. "Just run. I'll meet you out there."

Dean wanted to ask his father why he wasn't going with them, but with the fear he felt, he ran, holding his baby brother as best as he could.

Sammy began to cry and Dean felt his own tears rolling down his cheeks, but he wrinkled his nose as he made his way down the stairs and to the front door.

Castiel gasped as he woke up, the sudden urge to cry out overwhelming him. He clutched his shirt, hunching over. He wanted to scream, to cry, and he looked all around him, expecting to see something horrifying to jump out of him with the fear now growing in him.

"Dean," he whispered. His eyes slowly widened as he came to the conclusion it had to do with the human he was supposed to be paired with. It must have to do with Dean. "Something terrible is happening..." And without any thought, Castiel screamed out.

His human mother was still awake when she heard the angel's screams. She dropped the glass of water in her hands and rushed to see what was the matter. The angel was out of bed, getting dressed, and his mother shook her head, not understanding what was happening.

"Castiel," she said, "Back to bed. Now."

"I have to find him," Castiel spoke.

"Who?"

"My human." Castiel stood up straight and turned around to face the woman. His mother had known all about the angels and humans being paired up. She knew it was the only way she was ever able to get pregnant, to birth the angel, and raise him until he was on his own and with his partner.

"Help me find him," Castiel said, "He's in trouble."

"It is the middle of the night," his mother protested.

"It is my duty."

"It is night, and little children are supposed to be asleep."

"I am not just a child," Castiel said, walking towards his mother. "I am an angel of the Lord, and I'm here for one reason, and one reason only. Therefore, I beg that you help me find Dean Winchester at this moment. I can't sleep anymore anyway if I tried. I can feel his pain. It's piercing through me. He's hurt. Real hurt, and I need to know why. I have to take care of him."

"You aren't allowed yet, Castiel," his mother said. "The rules said-"

"The rules say to protect my human. If he is in trouble, then I am, too."

His mother bit her lower lip as he contemplated what to do, but the look of determination in her emotionless son convinced the woman. She immediately searched for the paper she was given when she had Castiel. The paper had Dean's address scribbled upon it, and grabbing her car keys, the two went off for the search of the four year old.

Dean ran outside with Sam, their father following behind as the house was engulfed in flames. Sirens were heard. The neighbors had alerted the fire department. John took Sammy from Dean, calming the baby down as Dean walked over to the edge of the sidewalk and sat down, knowing the home he once loved was burning to the ground, knowing his mother, his dear mother, was gone. And the way she went, how he witnessed every second of it. The look of terror on her face. Dean pursed his lips, not wanting to cry. He didn't want to cry. His mother didn't like seeing him cry. She would want him to be happy, happy he and Sam got out alive, but Dean wished she would have too.

Castiel and his mother parked a ways back, seeing the house covered in firetrucks and firemen rushing into the house. Castiel felt the surge of pain run through him again as he spotted the kid sitting alone on the sidewalk.

"Dean," he whispered. He had never seen Dean before, but the connection he felt, he just knew it was him.

Castiel ran out of his car, but slowed down as he approached the scene. No one paid any attention to him, oblivious to his presence, and he made his way to Dean, sitting down next to the boy clearly fighting back tears, but his eyes glistened and he stared almost blankly at the floor. Castiel studied the boy's face; his freckles, his green eyes, his hair...

Castiel raised his hand, wanting to reach out a bit and touch Dean. They had gone four years without being formally introduced, and he just wanted to make sure Dean was okay. He needed to know that Dean was okay, or that he would be, for Castiel could tell he had suffered a great loss. Could humans recovered from such a traumatizing experience? It had to have been that bad, otherwise Castiel wouldn't have felt such a painful sorrow in his chest, such fear in his bones.

A policeman walked over as the other spoke to John. He kneeled down next to Dean and sighed, patting the boy on the back.

"I'm really sorry," he spoke, but Dean didn't bother looking at him. "I have a few questions for you. Is that okay?"

Dean shook his head.

"It'll be quick," the policemen said. "I promise."

Castiel squinted his eyes a bit and spoke up, "He said no."

Dean lifted his head and looked over at the boy sitting next to him. It was the first time he had even noticed him.

"Who are you?" Dean asked.

Castiel took a deep breath. "My name is Castiel." But Dean didn't respond as he simply stared at the stranger.

Something about Castiel felt familiar, though, like Dean had met him before, but he wasn't sure. The blue eyes that stared back at him made him feel a sort of comfort, something Dean thought would be impossible to feel after what had just happened. He looked over his shoulder to see his father speaking to the other police officer, the devastated expression painted on his face. Dean could see him answering with only a word or two, not up for any conversation at all.

Dean faced Castiel again as the silence grew thicker.

Seeing that Dean wasn't going to speak until he had more information, Castiel blinked and sat up more as he said, "I'm the one to protect you."