Confessions

by jajenshaslvly6012

Takes place after "The End". Dean is thinking about Sam becoming Lucifer and Castiel shows up, confessing that he loves him, and you can guess what happens next. Turns out, Sam is already possessed by Lucifer so he tortures Cas, and Dean must save both

Dean cast one last look around the cold, grungy, almost unfeeling motel room, looking anxiously towards Sam's sleeping form, taking care to not wake him, as he quietly opened the door and left, shutting the door behind him just as softly.

He got a strange sense of déjà vu--from Sam's POV, that is--when Sam used to wait for Dean to fall asleep and leave him to his nightmares from hell--literally--in order to go behind his back and meet up with Ruby. Although, Sam did that to avoid Dean altogether, to hide his secrets from him, but Dean was just merely leaving to think, and didn't want to wake Sam with his leaving.

Dean pulled on his leather jacket that used to belong to his father, and dug for his keys in his pocket as he approached the Impala. God, that car was freakin' epic. So, so beautiful.

He reminiscently ran the palm of his hand lightly across the hood of the car as he walked over to the driver door, smiling to himself, before unlocking the door and　stepping inside.

Within seconds, he was driving off and hitting the open road. He had a good five, six hours before sunrise, and he was taking advantage of that time by analyzing all that he had been through recently and weighing his options.

God...how could Sam be Lucifer's vessel? How? He was Sam, you know. Sammy. No way Sammy could ever be capable of such a great evil, right? True, he had brought about the apocalypse--and Dean was nowhere near close to forgiving him for that just yet--but, in all fairness, he had been manipulated into doing it.

That very manipulation made Dean hate Ruby more than any living--or hell, even dead--creature out there, for her taking advantage of his little brother and completely destroying him. He would never, ever forgive that bitch for what she had done to them.

Nonetheless though...she did screw them over big freaking time and nothing could change that, unfortunately. Dean had come to learn the hardest of ways that, no matter how hard you want to, you cannot change the past. Only learn from your mistakes and try not to repeat them tomorrow.

But, even so, that did bring up the question of...Sam. Dean was pretty damn sure that Sam would never allow Lucifer to take him over, but he was also pretty sure, once upon a time, that Sam wouldn't try fixing his problems by screwing some demon bitch and entrusting everything he had to her, which resulted in his ending the freaking world. They lived the impossible, and even Sam--the kindest and most innocent of people on planet earth--had a dark side. And, it just seemed to be growing darker and darker with each passing day. Maybe one day, he would let Lucifer in...

The double meaning of those words made Dean shudder and grimace at thought. "Oh, God," he cringed slightly in his seat.

Now back to reality here, Dean, he silently scolded himself for losing his train of thought so damn easily, a flaw admittedly.

Sam. Sammy. His little brother.

Dean would fight with everything he absolutely had to protect Sam from Lucifer, sure; Sam had to know that. Hell, he went to hell to save Sammy's ass once upon a time and endured pains that he never even knew existed. But, even that wasn't enough to truly save him in the end.

Because, Sam made his choices to trust the freaking skanky ho-bag queen of all demon bitches over his own brother, who had been there time and time again to save his ass since they were freaking kids, time...and time...again.

So, yeah, it was safe to say that Dean was pissed...just a little bit. But, he didn't actually want Sam to die. And, if he did give in to Lucifer, he might as well have never even existed. And, Dean couldn't help but wonder, even now...that if Sam did do it, if Lucifer really took his little brother...could he bring himself to kill him?

Could he really gank his little brother, no matter how terrible a creature he became?

"My God," Dean choked out, wearily covering his face with a hand, hoping to just wake up or something in that bed in Lawrence. See, that way, he could eventually have a semi-perfect life. He could fix things with Sam, given time; that was proven by the past four years, and how close they became when Sam joined Dean after Stanford.

But, with all this; the apocalypse, the demons, the evil, the freaking devil breathing down Sammy's neck just a-waitin' for him to give him the word to come on in for a good 'ol tea party and the destruction of the world...Dean didn't know how to ever make that right again. Maybe given time, it would be...but, now...Dean really did not know. He wished he could. God, he wished it could be right again. What he wouldn't give for it to be right again.

"Not quite, Dean," came a familar voice from the passenger side of the Impala, startling Dean and making him swerve slightly in response.

"Holy!--" he cried out, managing to get back over into his lane quickly, and straightening out his car, as his heart now pounded quite erratically in his ears. Damn it. Would it never end with this guy?

Castiel now sat in the passenger side, looking straight ahead at the open road instead of looking at Dean, though Dean was clearly scowling irritably at him. "Now, that's a little bit closer," Castiel agreed, with his usual dry sarcasm, not even cracking a smile as he spoke.

"Son of a bitch, Cas," Dean said, through clenched teeth, as he struggled to recompose himself. "What is the matter with you; I have told you not to just appear like this. Scares the hell out of me."

Castiel still did not look at Dean as he spoke, "Dean, I have dragged you literally out of hell…yet I still cannot manage to remove hell completely from you. God, Himself could not scare hell out of you."

"Sarcasm, Cas," Dean let him know, irritably, since he seemed to really think he was serious about that.

He didn't dignify that with a response though, simply staring silently out the windshield.

"So…" Dean said, after a long moment of silence, "What's the what? You ain't exactly one for midnight cruises. What's up; got something to tell me?"

Dean looked over to see Cas just barely shake his head, as he spoke, "No. I just…wanted to see how you were."

"You aren't one for social calls either; just tell me the bad news already and get the hell out of here so I can get back to my thinking."

"You were thinking," Cas said, thoughtfully, as he finally turned his eyes on Dean to try to find answers in his eyes.

"Yes," Dean said, snarky as ever, "Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of a valid thought or two. Sometimes…even three." Dean held up three fingers to Cas, to really emphasize the sarcasm.

Castiel had learned by now to just ignore Dean's sarcasm altogether, rather than actually giving him a response, since that usually just led to more comments on his part. So, he simply asked, "About?"

"Oh, you know. The usual," Dean said, turning his eyes back to the road, "Sunshine and flowers and rainbows and crap. The works." His voice was toneless though as he spoke.

"Dean." Castiel's voice was slightly reprimanding.

"What?" Dean's voice was hard, leaving no room at all for argument, but Cas chose to ignore that.

"You cannot…keep doing this."

"Doing what; what is this?" Dean challenged, though he had a pretty good idea what "this" was.

"This," Castiel nodded, in acknowledgement to Dean's hands on the steering wheel. "Keeping your emotions and feelings bottled up inside of you. That was what went wrong with you and Sam and you know it. Had you two simply told each other how you were really feeling, rather than going behind each other's backs…this, the apocalypse, might actually have been avoided."

"Oh, don't you get all preachy on me," Dean scolded, turning his glare on Castiel now.

"That's the truth," Cas said, defensively, "Look, I meant what I said before. I'm not meant to…be a guardian angel of sorts for you only. I am supposed to make saving the world from Lucifer my top priority, I know that."

"I sense there's a but comin'," Dean said, looking at Cas with accusatory eyes.

"But…" Castiel relented, his eyes now dropping downward to his folded hands, which rested in his lap. "That does not mean I will ignore you and your brother completely."

"Because?..." Dean pushed, not noticing the nervousness in Cas' voice.

"Because despite my better judgment, Dean…everything I have ever known, everything I have ever been taught by my superiors—"

"Why do I get the feeling I'm trapped in some freakin' after-school special?" Dean interrupted, not wanting to hear this sappy crap about whatever the hell it was he was about to begin his ranting about.

"I can't help but be concerned for you, Dean," Cas admitted, in one breath, not meeting Dean's eyes, though Dean tried. "I know I shouldn't; we have more important matters at hand here, but…I just—"

"You just what?" Dean pushed, now catching his drift there was more he wasn't telling him, for whatever reason.

But, Castiel immediately changed the subject. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Sorry for being just—? " Dean asked, an amused smirk on his face.

"Sorry…because I came here in the hopes of comforting you, and I am making this about me. This is not about me; it's about you."

That was true. Everything was about Dean, admittedly, but still. Something about Cas' tone just made Dean extremely uneasy.

"What exactly is about me?" Dean wondered, as he noted they sped past the city limits sign for the next town over from where he and Sam had been staying. Damn, how long had he been driving?

"How are you?" Cas asked, not answering Dean's question, but taking it another direction. "I mean…with the whole Sam being Lucifer's vessel thing."

"Wouldn't've hated a little warning from you, to be real honest," Dean said, the slightest twinge of bitterness coloring his tone.

"I told you already, Dean; I didn't know. Had I known, I would have told you in a heartbeat." Cas said, sympathetically, his eyes unconsciously drifting over to meet Dean's.

"Angels have a heartbeat?" Dean wondered.

"No, not technically, but you forget, Dean; I am no longer technically an angel; and, that is completely besides the point."

Dean stifled a snort, "Well, gee, Cas, haven't seen you have this much difficulty getting out words in a long time; what's the matter? Don't tell me a damn cat's got your tongue, man."

"No, I have not seen a cat for two weeks, Dean," Castiel said, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion at the expression.

Dean closed his eyes momentarily and inhaled sharply at the major face-palm moment presented to him. "It's…an expression, Cas." Dean told him, shaking his head in disbelief. "What; two thousand years up in heaven or whatever and you haven't learned a thing about humans just from watchin' em?"

Castiel's eyes lingered on Dean for a moment, before saying, "I've…never been allowed to see a human…before you, Dean." Cas admitted.

That threw Dean off his game, big time. "I'm sorry; you what?"

"I've never seen a human before you," he repeated, his eyes still not leaving Dean's, reveling at taking Dean by surprise. That was a rare occurrence, indeed.

"What the hell; well, why not?" Dean demanded, shaking his head.

Cas shrugged, "Because of…well…you saw what happened after I spent too much time with you."

"You started cussin' more?" Dean asked, totally oblivious to where Cas was going with this.

"No. Well, yes, I did, but…I began to feel." Dean had to force himself not to laugh at the implications. "I…became more and more human the more time I was with you. Don't you see? Had angels been allowed to see humans and spend time with them before now, they would've become less than…heavenly. They would envy the human race and long for just that. For humanity. And, for that desire, they would've been seen as lower, lesser creatures and would therefore fall from grace…as Lucifer did."

Now that pissed Dean off, for some unknown reason. "Whoa, hold on a second, are you comparing yourself to Lucifer, Cas? Takin' a mighty big-ass leap there, aren't you? You aren't anything like that crazy-ass bastard, dude; you've got your rough spots, I'll admit, but…you and Lucifer have nothing in common, man. Nothing."

"Not exactly," Cas reminded him, "We have both fallen from grace by choice, Dean. He did it for the glory of it and I…well, I did it for you. And, Sam," he added, though he didn't really do it for Sam at all.

"Well, yeah, but—" Dean struggled for the right words to say, but unsurprisingly, came up with nothing to say.

"But?" Cas pressed, knowing he had nothing more to add, since there was nothing more to add.

"But, you…you care about people, Cas. Humanity and the planet and all that crap, you actually give a damn, as opposed to your 'bosses'," Dean did air quotes to emphasize the word. "That is what makes you different. From all of them. From Lucifer to your superiors to whoever the hell else it was trying to stop you."

Cas kept his eyes on Dean for a long moment, assessing his words before speaking again, "I suppose." Though he still sounded quite unsure, himself.

"Well, I don't," Dean said, stubbornly, "I know." His eyes met Cas' and he smiled slightly, "Don't worry, dude, you'll be all right." He reached over and smack Cas' shoulder playfully with the back of his hand before sighing softly to himself.

"What is it?" Cas sensed the change in Dean's mood and realized if he was ever going to break him, it would have to be now.

Dean shook his head slightly, but spoke anyway, "I just--you know, Sam…I just don't get it."

"Get…what?" Cas asked, locking his eyes on Dean, not looking away for anything.

"I don't get why it had to be him," Dean spoke the words sarcastically, as if some kind of announcer at a game or something, "Why he had to be Lucifer's damn vessel or why it was our family that was picked to be the jump start of the apocalypse. I mean, why us; why not a family in Connecticut or Virginia or Texas, you know? Why did it have to be the Winchesters?"

"Actually, there was a family in Texas that was our second choice," Cas said, and Dean couldn't tell if it was sarcasm or not, since the tone of his voice never changed.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" Dean demanded, looking over at Cas, trying to figure out if he was joking or not.

But, Cas didn't acknowledge whether or not it was a joke. Instead he changed the subject. "Dean…no one really understands…why it was you. We were only told what we needed to know. We were told to pull you out of hell and we did. We were told we have to preserve you and your family at all costs and we did. We were told to make the apocalypse happen--"

"And, you did?" Dean finished for him, looking to him with a sarcastic look on his face.

Cas closed his eyes in regret and said, "The point, Dean…is that…I wish I could give you all the answers you want. I truly do. But, I don't think even the superiors had the answers to that question; or if they did, then they kept it well hidden from all angels. Anytime, I would ask those questions…I would get nothing in response. No answers. Just…more orders. I was tired of that life, Dean. I couldn't live like that any longer without knowing the why and the how. And, that was why I rebelled, Dean. For you." He added the last part without even thinking about it and immediately stopped talking, making Dean curious as to why, but he kept his curiosity to himself.

"And, Sam," Dean added, for clarification.

"And, Sam," Cas reiterated, with a nod of his head, though he knew he was not thinking about Sam when he had made that decision in the least. He was only thinking about Dean.

"Oh, Sam," Dean said, with a shake of his head, letting out another sigh, "What am I gonna do with that kid?"

"What do you mean?" Cas asked, grateful for the subject change.

Dean waited for a moment before asking, his face suddenly so solemn and devastated that it broke Castiel's heart to see, "Is it true?" He waited another moment, "Is Sam really Lucifer's vessel? Am I going to have to kill my brother?"

The hesitation with Cas' answer told Dean all he needed to know. "Yes." Castiel hated himself for having to say that one word to Dean--the one word that would ultimately destroy him.

Dean closed his eyes once again for the briefest of moments, and exhaled shakily as he reopened them.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas added, not knowing what else to say. Dean had no idea just how sorry he truly was.

"I don't...want to do this, Cas," Dean's voice was just barely above a whisper and it cracked slightly with the emotion he tried to keep hidden. "I can't...I don't...I don't want to lose my brother. Not again. After everything I've been through, everything I've lost...please don't make me lose him too. Please, Cas. Please."

The utter devastation and pleading in Dean's voice and eyes nearly killed Castiel as he forced himself to look at him, so as to fully understand his pain.

"What can I do?" Dean asked, "How can I stop it? Please, please, I'll do anything. Lucifer can have me; just...let Sam go. Not Sammy. He can do anything he wants with me."

"It's not that simple, Dean," Castiel contradicted.

"Why the hell not?" Dean demanded, now turning his anger on Cas.

"Because...it is out of all of our control. There was something about Sam, I don't know what, that made him the one. Lucifer does not want you, Dean. He wants your brother."

"But, why?" Dean repeated, his voice growing louder and harder with his frustration.

"Lucifer has a certain amount of power...but, not all. This was not even his choice; he was not the one to choose his vessel. It just happened to be your brother. He can't just choose to take you instead of Sam, Dean, it doesn't work like that."

"Yeah; then, explain it to me, please. How the hell does it work?"

"It is written--" Castiel began, but Dean immediately interrupted him, "I flunked the damn written, Cas, maybe you haven't figured that out yet. Pick another explanation."

When Castiel just looked at Dean wordlessly, not knowing what he could say to make this better for Dean, Dean simply said, "Who the hell do I talk to in order to change it or whatever?"

"Actually..." Cas contradicted, "...quite the contrary."

"Excuse me?" Dean asked, when Cas didn't continue on.

"Hell...has nothing to do with the process, Dean." Castiel explained, "It's all heaven's power; not hell."

"Great," Dean said, without hesitation, "Then poof your ass up to your superior dudes and ask them for the answers."

"Even my superiors do not have that answer, Dean, or if they do, they won't give it to me. They wouldn't give it to me before; they sure as hell won't give it to me now that I have fallen." Castiel hated himself for making Dean's face look sadder and sadder with his words.

"Then, who does have the answer?" Dean demanded, getting sick and tired of the cryptic crap.

"The only person we know of...in existence that would have that answer, Dean...would be God. Even Michael wouldn't be able to tell you, I don't think."

"Speaking of..." Dean asked, forcing himself to look out the window, "When you startin' up the God-hunt again anyway? You said yourself he's gotta be around here somewhere; why aren't you lookin'? He clearly isn't here with me in this car, so...you got a whole lot of universe to cover, Cas."

Castiel averted his eyes, waiting for the words to come to him, how exactly to explain this without sounding like a total douche. "Um...I told you...before that...the apocalypse, the end of the world can wait. I'm not concerned with that right now, Dean; my only concern is for you."

"And, Sam?" Dean asked, but something told him that the "and, Sam" was not coming this time.

The silence that met him made him look over in curiosity, but Cas was suddenly gone, leaving him to himself.

"Oh, come on, dude." Dean said, looking frantically around the car, "What; you start listening to me now? You can't just leave like that, you son of a bitch, get your ass back here, Cas. Cas!" His face fell again with the realization that he wasn't coming back. "Damn it," he mumbled, but for some reason it was for more than just annoyance that made him say it.

For some reason, Dean had the slightest sense that he didn't just want Cas here; he actually missed him. Okay. That was weird. But, it was nothing. Though something told Dean it was definitely something.

Nothing, Dean told himself. He was lying, and he knew it.

Nothing.

After driving for another hour—give or take—Dean pulled off onto the shoulder of the road, parking the Impala in the dirt and pathetic excuse for grass off the side of the road.

For some reason, driving was not helping him with the thinking; it was hindering. That was new different for Dean, since a drive in the Impala was enough to cure him of the nastiest bug in the world mere years ago—he couldn't explain it; it was just a beautiful miracle—but now…it was as if nothing was enough to bring him peace and serenity anymore. Go figure.

He let out a weary sigh, before carefully sitting on the hood of the Impala, lying back so his back was pressed against the windshield. "Ugh, God," he mumbled, deliriously, rubbing his face with his hand and resting his other arm on his knee.

"God, karma's a bitch, huh?"He asked, just merely stating his thoughts out loud, not really expecting an answer, but nonetheless, it did come.

"You have no idea," Castiel's magnificent voice pierced through the night, breaking through Dean's thoughts, making him start and jump up to see Castiel sitting beside him on the hood, looking down at him with a weird expression on his face.

"Cas!" Dean nearly growled, with his frustration, "For the love of God, man! Remind me to buy you a freakin' bell to put on your neck sometime, huh?" He barely noticed where he was sitting and his expression turned into one of exaggerated rage. "And, get your ass off my car, man; you're gonna scratch her all up!"

He shoved Cas off the hood, not that he needed to, since he immediately began getting up once asked to.

Dean immediately attended to his car, "Oh, baby, are you okay?" He rubbed the spot where Cas had been sitting gently, "It's okay, baby, it's okay. Shh…I'm sorry. You okay…you okay?" He examined it thoroughly for scratches, but after finding none, he turned his glare on Cas. "Are you still here?"

Castiel didn't say anything, though, but rather just kept staring at Dean, clearly examining him for any evidence of being hurt or of him lying or something.

"What?" Dean asked, irritably, "You keep this crap up, Cas, I'm filin' for a damn restraining order; what is the matter with you?"

"You're lying," Castiel accused, softly, his eyes still on Dean as he spoke.

"No, I'm not lying," Dean shook his head fiercely; "I'll get myself an angelic security system to deep-fry your ass anytime you try this poppin'-in without askin' first, you hear me?"

"No…Dean…" Castiel said, approaching him, and hesitating before placing a hand onto his shoulder. "You are lying…about how you are doing with all this. Sam, Lucifer, the apocalypse…all of it. It's killing you…isn't it?"

"Barely figure that out now, did you?" Dean asked. Every instinct told him to push Cas' hand off his shoulder, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to.

"Dean," Cas met his eyes with a hard look of his own, his eyes filled with almost concerned affection for Dean. Huh. Interesting. "Please. Just...please. Tell me…how you really are."

"Why do you care so damn much?" Dean insisted, now snapping out of the weird trance he had been trapped in and he shrugged out of Cas' hand. "Huh? What's it to you; really? You have no responsibility to me or my brother; so why not just leave well enough the hell alone, huh? For all our sakes."

"I care…about you, Dean." Castiel admitted, no longer able to play it off as just some nonchalant observer.

"Why?" Dean demanded, growing frustrated, "Why?" He repeated when all Castiel did was look at him. "Why are you here, Cas? Why are you putting my welfare above that of the world? Lucifer gets it his way, we're all toast anyway. Why concern yourself so damn much with me? What makes me so damn special in your eyes, Cas, huh?"

"Maybe it's cause of your…perky nipples," Cas quoted Dean's sarcastic quip to the demon that had spotted him upon his return from hell, but he said it so seriously, so deadpan that Dean actually flinched, not knowing whether or not he was kidding.

"Dude, you have got to stop with that," Dean said, shivering slightly in his discomfort.

"Stop with…what?" Cas asked, furrowing his eyebrows, in confusion.

"That," Dean gestured towards him, "The jokes; it creeps me out, man. You don't even crack a damn smile; it's weird, Cas. That's when you know your jokes are bad, man, when even you can't smile at them." He patted his shoulder as if comforting him or something.

"I told you before, Dean…I…do not joke." Cas said, his tone never once changing, which creeped Dean out even more, since he no longer thought Cas was kidding. Oh, crap. Was he saying?— Oh, please, God, do not let him be saying— No way in hell was he— Was he? Oh…God…

Oh. God.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, through clenched teeth, praying to God—or whoever—that this was all some sick cruel joke.

"You heard me," Cas said, stepping slightly closer to Dean, "I do not joke."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time," Dean said, his voice cracking slightly in delirium. "Are you…I mean, are you trying to make me the freakin' Burt to your freakin' Ernie?"

"Of course not," Castiel said, and Dean almost sighed in relief till Cas said, "I prefer being Burt, not Ernie."

"Ugh," Dean groaned in disgust and cringed away in revulsion. "Oh, God. Oh, God. Ew. Ugh." He grimaced and scrambled away from Cas, trying desperately to avoid his eyes. "Oh. God."

Cas was suddenly in front of him and he started before jumping back slightly, "God! I—the—what—"

"Dean, please. Just please…don't."

"Don't what?" Oh, God, did Dean's voice just crack again?!

"Don't be afraid," Castiel said, stepping towards him again, reaching for his face, but he smacked his hand away. "I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.

"Yeah. Good to know," Dean said, frantically, with a nod, "Since I'm only kinky with women, dude, I don't roll like this." He gestured emphatically between them.

"Yet," Castiel said, trapping him in between his body and the Impala.

Oh, crap. There went his escape route. "Dude, you aren't going to, like, violate me or anything are you? I hope!" Dean asked his voice still slightly higher than usual. "I prefer not to be raped please. I value my choice in these kind of matters," he said, still looking around frantically for a way out of this.

"Dean," Castiel said, softly, the slightest of smiles playing on his lips, "Trust me. Please."

"With this?" Dean gestured around them frantically, groaning internally.

"Let me help you, Dean," Cas' voice had dropped to the lowest of whispers, "Please, let me help you."

Cas leaned in, just the very slightest of movements, and Dean saw immediately where he was going with this. He had gone this way with this many, many times before with so many women that their faces all just blurred together to form one super freakin' hot chick with one hell of a body. Other than that, names and crap were very much insignificant.

Dean immediately cringed away and made to shove Cas away again, when his lips were hovering mere inches from his. Oh, crap! Major crap. Crap! "Hey!" Dean yelled, bringing his hands up to shove him away, "What the fu—"

He was cut off as Castiel's lips now touched his and, surprisingly, he lost the will to pull away. In fact, he deepened the kiss. Okay, this crap was turning him all kinds of effing crazy. All kinds of…whoa…

The hands that had been very much intending to push Cas away with everything they had were now actually racing up to Cas' shoulders, clutching him even tighter, pulling him closer to Dean, if that was possible.

Cas made to pull away to see what Dean's reaction was to all of this, when Dean stammered, "Oh—no—I don't…oh, F-this."

Then, he leaned in even further, wrapping his tongue passionately around Cas' while pressing himself even closer to him, loving the reaction this had on him. Wow, so soon. Maybe this was why the whore house did nothing for him, huh. Dean clearly had the wrong team in mind for the guy.

Without even thinking about it, Dean walked—or staggered them, rather—over to the hood of the Impala and he slammed Cas down on the hood, considering he figured it wouldn't hurt him as much, considering he had angelic protection keeping his ass safe at all times.

In fact, if anything the slam merely spurred Cas on even more, as he now struggled with the fabric of Dean's t-shirt, his attempts to remove it very much hindered considering the position he was in right now.

Dean assisted him, removing it himself before immediately lunging for Cas again, eager for this, weird as it might seem. He just…needed someone, anyone to feel close to…someone that cared about him and wanted to help him. Someone to comfort him, however it worked. No matter how unnatural and disgusting it might seem to him, Dean Winchester—the manliest of men, the man who prided himself on sleeping with women on top of women (sometimes very literally)—he realized that he lived the damn unnatural. At least this way he could somehow enjoy that unnatural crap and something good could finally come out of it.

Dean reluctantly pulled away from Cas' lips to place his fingers on his tie, running his fingers up and down several times to toy with him a little bit first, while his other hand was lifting the flap of his jacket to make sure it was actually able to move at all.

"Gee, Cas, does this outfit actually come off?" Dean asked, his breathless voice full of sarcasm, yet also somewhat curious, "Do you own anything else, just out of curiosity?"

"Wouldn't you like to find out?" Castiel challenged, shifting his weight slightly under Dean so that it would be easier for him to remove the coat. Then, his tie. The shirt.

Wow, Dean really must be losing it, huh? Having sex to relieve his problems was nothing; he had done it before a million and one times, but having sex with a guy…that was a whole new level of crazy, even for him.

Nonetheless though…all of his concerns and doubts went to crap…upon seeing Castiel's bare chest completely exposed to him. God, it was so beautiful. Angelic, indeed. Okay…okay, this was really awkward. Like, really, really awkward.

Of course all that awkwardness really went to crap when Cas' arms wrapped around his waist and his hands slid up the warm soft skin of Dean's back passionately as he memorized the exact feel and texture of it.

When Dean shifted his weight slightly, his muscles rippled slightly against the palms of Cas' hands, making him grunt slightly in response, "Oh, God," he breathed, struggling to remember the process of the conversion of oxygen to carbon dioxide, with Dean's proximity.

Dean noticed a look of indecision and almost fear cross Cas' features and he furrowed his eyebrows slightly in confusion, "You look afraid," he noticed, "I thought you were the one landing this plane, Cas; I sure as hell don't know how."

"You know more than me," Cas pointed out, his words struggling to come out since Dean pressed his full weight against him and he could no longer speak at all really.

"What are you afraid of?" Dean wondered, taking Cas' face in the palm of his hand without even thinking about it, a smirk playing casually on his lips.

Cas was struggling greatly to breathe, his voice trembling as he spoke his next words, "Disappointing you," he admitted, not meeting Dean's eyes in his humiliation.

Dean grimaced slightly, and said, with a shrug, "You've done all right so far." He tried to comfort him, "Hell, you've done freakin' amazing so far. Just follow my lead; I'll show you how it's done, huh?"

Cas smiled nervously, but nodded anyway, "Okay, Dean. I trust you."

Dean smiled, "I'm gonna take you places your angel wings could never even dream existed, huh? I'll fly your ass to all new kinds of levels of pleasure, 'kay?"

Cas chuckled softly, and nodded again, not saying another word for a moment, as Dean's hand reached down to undo his pants—slowly, taunting him in every way possible—his eyes never leaving Castiel's once the whole time.

He took in the slightest changes in Cas' expressions, sounds, appearances; every little change he reveled in, knowing that he was the cause for that change. He was the cause for that pleasure that was so great that there was no word in any language that could accurately describe it.

It wasn't long before all their clothes were stripped off and strewn about—some on the ground beside the car, some hanging off the roof, the hood, the side view mirrors—all of them completely off, though.

Awkward and weird as it seemed at first, though, it didn't take long at all before Dean was very much into it, treating it like just any other sexual situation he'd regret in the morning when asked to call back…the only difference was that he had no doubts that he would no way ever regret this decision. Not in the hours, days, months, years, decades, centuries…hell, even forevers to come.

No pun intended, of course, but when they did finally come…Dean knew he had never in his life ever experienced pleasures to this great extent before. All he knew was that he never wanted it to end. Never. And, when it did, he did everything in his power to make it happen again. And again, and again. And, again. And, so many other agains that he lost count of exactly how many agains they had.

It was just endless perfect bliss. Yeah, sex before now had been oh, so amazing, but now…oh, so amazing fell so far short it was devastating just how short it fell. Just devastating. Freakin' perfect fell short. God, he hated the lack of term to accurately describe it.

At one point, they got so into it, and lost track of absolutely everything around them, that Dean accidentally punched the living hell out of his windshield, shattering it to millions of little pieces.

He cringed and gasped slightly in pain, curling his fist in agony as the blood now soaking his skin, flowed down his fingers to the back of his hand, trailing down to his wrist, but he didn't notice at all the least. He was a little too preoccupied with what Cas was doing to him right now…a little too busy allowing the peace—and Cas—to flow freely through him, relieving him of his troubles and worries—to give a crap about some stupid blood.

However, Cas did notice it and he stopped doing what he was doing for a moment to gather Dean's hands in his own, using all of his strength to free his mouth from its activities in order to speak. "It is customary to stop when you draw blood…Dean."

He trailed his fingertips lightly across the skin, meaning to wipe the blood off, but he only smeared it into Dean's skin. Not that Dean noticed anyway, he was still a little lost in his erection right now. As Cas should've been, damn it. Damn, Cas had himself a short-ass attention span for an angel.

"No, it's not," Dean gasped, struggling to put his incoherent thoughts into somewhat coherent words, dying a thousand deaths in this moment, "No, see you said it yourself. I've been doing this longer; I know these things. And, uh, we don't stop. Ever. For anything. Okay? That includes the drawing of blood or any other bodily fluids, which by the way is only very much supposed to happen, in case you didn't figure that out by now."

"Dean—" Castiel protested, but Dean immediately shut him up with a kiss, smothering whatever he would've said with his lips, as he crushed them eagerly to Cas', pressing himself even further against Cas, wishing there could be some way, any way for them to be even closer.

When Cas finally did pull away, he opened his mouth to protest again when Dean said, "Cas, shut up, will you? I'm fine, okay? I'm freakin' better than fine; no amount of blood or pain is gonna screw that up for me, promise. So, let's get it on again and it'll make it go away."

Cas looked like he wanted to protest it further, so Dean rolled his eyes, "God!" He raised his fist to his mouth, forcing himself to ignore the coppery, irony gross repulsive taste of the blood, and sucked it off to make Cas happy.

"There, happy?" He challenged, grimacing slightly, "Ugh, God…it tastes like a freakin' penny. Disgusting."

Cas smirked before leaning down to kiss him again, before pulling away and saying, "Doesn't taste half bad to me."

"Yeah, I'm sure it doesn't when combined with your kisses and your, um…" he broke himself off to chuckle as he flipped Cas over and straddled his waist, bending down so his lips hovered only an inch or two from Cas' groin, teasing him a bit with his proximity.

Cas stiffened up, not quite knowing what to expect with this. Not that Dean really knew either; he'd only been on the receiving end of this gig. This would be an interesting change for him.

He closed his mouth completely around it and Cas immediately shifted so as to make it easier for both of them to receive the best parts of this act.

Okay…that's it…they were both pretty sure they just burst into flames and died with how amazingly hot that was.

Yep. Definitely dead.

Cas grabbed onto Dean's head, increasing the pressure of his head against it, and tightened his hold on the hood of the car to keep from falling off the car since he was trembling so hard-core in his ecstacitic state.

God only knew how long this lasted, but they didn't fully stop until the saw the sun barely kissing the horizon, threatening to break through it. Then, they just laid there in their weakened state, struggling to recover.

"You…can deep-fry my ass anytime…Dean," Cas gasped out, still struggling to catch his breath. It was coming easier to him now. He just had to count it off in his head. In and out and in and out and in and out. He snorted to himself as he recalled doing exactly that to Dean, and vice versa, mere hours ago. Coming, indeed.

Dean chuckled, "Ditto. You pop in any time you like…no asking required."

They both laughed at the implications, before Dean breathed, "Thanks, Cas. Thank you…so much."

Cas smiled, knowing exactly what he was thanking him for. "Anytime, Dean. I mean it."

"Me too," Dean let him know, turning his head to look at him, and returning the smile. "Me too." He repeated, as Cas snaked his arm around his waist and leaned in to place a kiss on the side of his neck, nuzzling his neck in response.

God. Peace and serenity, indeed. Who would've thought it would be so easy to come by, if only Dean had stopped being so stubborn a lot sooner? He still had no more conclusions about the whole Sam situation or how he would handle that, but one thing he did know was that…he felt okay. He felt like everything would be okay. Everything was okay. Because of Cas. Because of Cas…everything would be good again. Eventually.

"Cas," Dean whispered, as Cas' lips brushed their way across Dean's bare shoulder, Dean's concentration very much conflicted right now, as Cas' arm now snaked around his waist from behind and his fingertips lightly traced the skin of his Dean's lower stomach—so low, in fact, he was very much in danger of tracing something else.

"Hmm…" Cas breathed, against Dean's skin, refusing to stop for anything.

"I'm scared," Dean admitted, feeling totally at ease with pouring his heart out to Cas, even though he couldn't share crap with Sam without feeling awkward and weird about it.

Cas rested his forehead against the bare skin of Dean's shoulder, tilting his head slightly so that his hair was brushing against Dean's skin. "I know you are, Dean." Cas whispered, his voice just as strained as Dean's had been. "But…you haven't any reason to fear." He told him. "You can handle this."

"What if I can't?" Dean's voice cracked slightly, with unspoken emotion, "What if the time comes when I have to—" he couldn't say the words, "—and I can't—"

"Don't talk like that, Dean," Cas said, placing two fingers from his other hand against Dean's lips to quiet him. "Nothing…is going to happen. You call yourself…weak and incapable, Dean, but, the truth is…you haven't the slightest…clue…as to what qualifies as strong in this fight. And, I know for a fact, that you do. You meet every qualification required to prevail, Dean. And, you will."

"And, my brother?" Dean asked, "What about him?"

"Your strength…gives your brother the strength he needs…to say no, Dean. So long as you are always with him, so long as you protect him and keep him safe…you have no need to worry. Sam relies on you more than you know. More than even he knows. You're all he has left, Dean. As long as he has that, he has all he needs to fight off Lucifer and keep him away."

"I don't know, Cas—"

"Well, I do." Cas insisted, cutting off Dean's protest, "Dean, you know what I have given up for you. I've rebelled, I have everyone I have ever known and loved out to kill me, and I am fighting with everything I have…on your side, and I am killing my own brothers and sisters, Dean."

"Oh, God, you're not gonna make me hear this speech again, are you?" Dean whined slightly.

"The point is…Dean…that I would not do that, I would not put myself on the line with heaven's greatest of powers out for my head for nothing. I wouldn't give up everything I've ever known if I didn't have complete faith that it would work itself out in the end, that we would win. The only reason…I would ever rebel and give up heaven…would be in exchange for everything. I guess that would make you my everything, Dean."

"Cas," Dean choked out, his voice hoarse and strained with emotion.

"Shh…" Cas placed a finger on Dean's lips again and whispered, "I know, Dean." He lowered his finger before shifting his weight so that he now hovered above Dean and lowered his lips until they lightly touched Dean's before repeating, "I know," but it was smothered by Dean's lips responding eagerly to the kiss.

"Cas," Dean gasped out, as Cas' lips made their way across his jawbone and down to his throat, before trailing his parted lips down Dean's chest, sniffing in Dean's amazing scent as he did so, before kissing Dean's pec and resting his head against it.

They were both quiet, their chests heaving greatly as they struggled to catch their breath, Dean's arms wrapped around Cas, holding him tightly against him, never wanting to let him go, and Cas' hands running up and down Dean's waist, lingering on his hips to caress and memorize the exactly feel of Dean's skin against his fingertips.

After a while of simply holding each other, and kissing every so often in each other's arms, Dean tilted his head back to look at his broken windshield. "Damn it. I've gotta get back to Sammy. God, I don't want to. I don't ever want to leave." He pouted slightly and turned his gaze on Cas. "Think you can…" he gestured to the windshield.

Cas smirked and within seconds, the windshield was fixed, good as new. "You have to go, Dean. Sam will be concerned."

"Eh, no he won't. Sam won't even miss me; he'll barely notice I'm missing at all."

"Dean," Cas reprimanded in a soft voice, as Dean's phone began ringing from in the car, his total kick-ass ringer going off to let him know that Sam was on the other line.

"Damn it," Dean whined, "Well, a year ago, he wouldn't have missed me. The kid was too busy screwin' the demon bitch to even really notice my existence. Sometimes I miss those days."

He climbed off the hood, regretfully releasing Cas, and reached in the car to get the phone. He flipped it open and said, "What's up, buttercup?...Nothing, I'm just…having a good day is all."

With those words, he looked to Cas, with a smile, and winked. He turned away though to continue on the rest of the conversation. "So, what's goin' on, Sammy? Have another nightmare of Ronald McDonald beating you to death with some of those chicken mcnuggets or somethin'?...I know, your older brother's a freakin' genius….No, just went out for a drive, you know. Couldn't sleep. You 'member how that goes, right, Sammy?...'Course you do, Sam, and I totally respect that. Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop givin' you a hard time about it, though."

Dean had to stifle a snort, before continuing on, "Yeah, whatever, I'll be there in a few…yeah… 'kay,I will…peace out." Dean smiled at Sam's saying, "A-town," before closing his phone and whipping around to see Cas…

Gone.

Oh, damn it, what?! Probably a smart maneuver, considering they'd probably just get caught up in having sex again or something and forget all about Sam, but still. Oh, damn it. You know?

All right, Dean was pissed with this disappearing act. Now,he understood women's frustration with the sleeping with her and taking off without a word. Oh, God, was he becoming a woman? Oh, please God no. Not him. He was too manly; if anything, Cas was the woman. Not him.

"What the fu—"

Sam was waiting for Dean in the motel room, with everything all packed up and ready to go. When Dean arrived, he honked the horn, but stayed in the car while Sam brought everything out and loaded it in the backseat, before getting in the passenger seat, himself.

"Wouldn't've killed you to help carry out, Dean," Sam said, somewhat bitterly.

"Hey, you ended the world, Sammy. You got a lot of favors to do for me before I'll completely forgive you, bro. This is my payback. You treated me like crap last year; I get to treat you like crap this year. Fair's fair."

Sam's face fell with regret and guilt with those words, as he looked to Dean to see if he was kidding or not. "Dean. That's not funny, man."

Dean shrugged, "I thought it was funny."

"Yeah, well, it's not," Sam snapped. "Dean, I know I screwed up big, all right? I do, and I will bust my ass every single day for the rest of my life doing this crap for you if that's what it takes to make myself right with you again. Just say the word, and it's done. But, don't you think I feel like hell for what I've done? You think it's easy for me to have to live with myself after bringing on the apocalypse and betraying my own brother?"

"Hey, I'm not too fond of you either, buddy, but I have to deal," Dean joked, even though there was a twinge of truth behind the words.

"Dean, please. Stop it, okay? Just…please. Do you know what my worst fear is, Dean? What scares the hell out of me more than anything else in the world?"

Dean shrugged, "A mirror?"

"You, Dean." Sam corrected, not even bothering to acknowledge the sarcasm. "Losing you. That is my worst of worst fears, Dean, and I can't help but think that some day it's going to become a reality. Because I screwed up one too many times. Because I chose that damn demon over you, because I brought on the apocalypse, because you have been burdened with me your entire life, and you never deserved it. You didn't. You should've had that normal childhood, Dean; you should've been allowed to...look up to Superman and the Power Rangers, and watch Transformers, and…I don't know, just…be a kid, you know?"

"Power Rangers, Sammy?" Dean said, with a snort, "That is so passe."

"Dean, your whole life has been dedicated to me. You lived for me, you died for me, you protected me, you freakin' existed…for me. And, I threw that in your face by trusting that bitch. And, look what don't deserve…to have to keep looking out for me, Dean. You shouldn't have to. Just because I can't take care of myself, you have to do it."

Dean replayed Cas' words in his head about how staying with Sam will keep Lucifer away and he had no response to that.

"Dean, I just can't help but think that one day…you're just going to realize that and leave me. That's why when I got up this morning and you were gone…I freaked. I thought for sure you had come to your senses while I was sleeping and you took off to live your own life. To live a life for you, you know? Instead of always having to live your damn life for me."

Dean felt a little guilt for that. He had gone to do something—or rather, someone—for himself; he sure as hell didn't do it for Sam, and his leaving led Sam to believe that he had ditched him. Crap. Yeah, okay, not good, admittedly.

"Dean?" Sam noticed Dean's uncharacteristic silence, with a start, "You okay, man?"

"Yeah," Dean cleared his throat, "Fine."

"What's wrong?"

Normally, Dean would've dismissed it as nothing and sped them off, pretending everything was fine and dandy as ever, to appease his brother and avoid awkward tensions, but last night with Cas had just opened him up to so much he never knew. And, for some reason, he just couldn't let this go.

"I'm just sorry, Sammy," Dean admitted, forcing himself to meet Sam's eyes, hating the look of guilt and pain he saw now permanently etched into Sammy's features. "I didn't mean to freak you out or anything, you know. Just…took a drive. I'd've known, I'd've left you a note or something, man; I'm sorry."

Sam nodded, averting his eyes, since he now noticed the sincerity in Dean's, "It's okay," he mumbled. "I understand, you can't tell me everything. And, frankly I do deserve it. Hell, I deserve worse. But, no matter what I do, you still won't do it…will you?"

Sam didn't say it. Sam didn't have to say it; Dean knew exactly what he was talking about. "Never, my brother." He playfully backhanded Sam's arm and forced a smile when Sam looked at him again. "Lucifer could wear your ass to the prom, 100 weddings, and 100 quinceneras and I still wouldn't do it. I'd find a way to save you, Sammy. No matter how many thousands of ways from Sunday you might piss me off to no freakin' end…you're still my baby brother. And, I'm not letting anything take you away from me. No matter what. Lucifer wants my little brother, he has to go through me first."

"Careful what you say, Dean," Sam said, looking around freaked out, "He just might take you up on that."

"Good for him, I say bring it on, sucker, because the only way he's gettin' you is over my…dead…body, Sammy. The kind that does not come back," he clarified, holding up his index finger to make his point, smirking as he started the ignition.

"This is different; what's with the new and improved, not-so-emo, ready-to-challenge-Lucifer-in-a-fight-to-the-freakin'-death-battle Dean Winchester?"

Dean shrugged, "Just had some sense knocked into me is all." Or screwed into me is more accurate, he thought, but he certainly kept those two cents to himself.

Sam grimaced, but didn't say anything to contradict him. "Hey." He noticed Cas' tie on the floor and picked it up, examining it. "This looks familiar," Sam noted, though he couldn't quite place where he had seen it. He knew it wasn't his, since he had just packed his suit and tie minutes ago. "This yours?" He asked Dean, assuming that was the only other person's it could be.

Dean stiffened up, but made no further acknowledgement to it really. "Yeah." He did a pretty damn good job at keeping his voice steady. "Yeah, it's mine."

Sam grimaced again, "Oh. Want me to slip it in your bag for you?" He made to turn around and put it in Dean's duffel bag, when Dean stopped him.

"No! No, no. It's, uh…it's fine, Sammy. I'll just hold it. Thanks, dude." He took it and stuffed it into the pocket of his dad's leather jacket, the weight of it in there as beautiful and amazing to carry as the weight of carrying the memory of him and Cas' sex in his mind.

God, he could feel it in his pocket and it was as if he could feel the strength that Cas had been talking about this morning in that tie. As if the memory of Cas had been what had given him that strength.

That was not the only thing he could feel in his pocket, of course, but that was in a much lower pocket that he felt that. Oh, God. He shuddered, but otherwise said nothing else, praying to God that Sammy didn't see it.

He didn't.

"Oh, Sam, I've been meaning to ask you," Dean hoped a subject change would help ease his erection, by taking his mind in another direction completely, "After you called and told me about the whole Lucifer crap…" he grimaced with those words, "Where did you go? I mean, I'm just curious. It took you quite a while to meet me when we did meet up again."

Sam looked at him and shrugged, before saying nonchalantly, "Oh, I was in Detroit. Passed through it on my way to meet you. Nice place, nice people. You know, the usual."

Dean felt a chill go through him with those words, "You…were…in Detroit?" Oh, God. Detroit had been where he had said yes to Lucifer…five years ago…today. No…Oh, God, he wasn't…

"Yeah, I was in Detroit. Want me to show you on the map, Dean?" Sam said, with a chuckle, "Detroit. I was in Detroit."

Two…o'clock…in the fucking…morning…and Cas still had not shown up yet. Damn it, was he just doing this to piss Dean off, or something? He had to be somewhere nearby, probably just standing by and watching Dean's agony, getting his rocks off on Dean's damn near insanity from the lack of sex.

Dean had never been one to have withdrawals from sex…mostly because he could just go to a bar nearby and pick up some random hot chick and he'd have his fix; it was always easy for him to find someone willing to have sex with him. But, now, after having had sex with someone as damn perfect and irreplaceable as Cas, ironic as it might sound…Dean knew he could never possibly just go and sex up some random chick anymore. No woman out there would ever be able to fill Cas' shoes.

Oh, God…did that mean…he was gay? Oh, God, no. No way was he gay. He was too damn manly to be gay. Wasn't he?

His eyes dropped to Cas' tie that he clutching in both hands so tightly that his hands were burning from the friction, and he noticed that he was hugging it desperately to his chest as if searching for a way to be closer to Cas, as he was lying curled up in a ball of horny desperation on his bed, rocking back and forth deliriously. Cas' name was whispered on his lips repeatedly, surging through his veins as his very blood, being the very beat of his heart, being the very oxygen in his lungs, plaguing his very mind, body, and soul.

Dean considered that for a moment before relenting and just admitting it to himself:

Okay…he was gay.

But!...he was a very manly gay. He was such a manly gay that even women still wanted him. Granted, he didn't really want them anymore, but still it was good to know that he wasn't all wussy now. He preferred to think of it as not really gay, per se, or he didn't really think of Cas as his boyfriend, cause, ew…that would be gross. He just liked to think of it as having very satisfying and comforting sexual intercourse with an attractive, good-looking—okay, effing hot—angel of the Lord—no less, who just happened to be a man. Oh, God…this was effing screwed up, even for him—Dean Winchester, the freakin' epitome of all screw-ups.

But…but, God, Cas…

Castiel had just done so much for Dean lately, the least of which had been pulling his pathetic ass from hell—or soul, rather, which he was pretty sure was not in his ass; though it sure felt like it was when Cas was screwing it. And, last night was just…

Dean had had a crappy past year. Hell, he had had a crappy past life. Just when things would be veering towards the vicinity of somewhat good, something would happen to just shoot it all to crap.

Losing his mother at age 4 was traumatic enough, and always having to look after Sammy and having to watch his father's back walk out the door time and time again. Sure, he had always come back, but…then, he would always leave again. Once again leaving Dean to watch out for Sam again.

And, then Sam abandoning him and their father to go to freakin' Stanford. Sometimes Sam was just plain entertaining with his uber geekocitiness, but when he left Dean…he was just freakin' aggravating.

But, when Dean had finally got Sammy back in the game…everything was fine. Not perfect, but…he had his little brother back. He would take what he would get. Even if Sam didn't really wanna be with him, even if their father was missing and only God knew where he was hiding, even if he could never again see his mother…he accepted that. He had his brother, and that he was he ever really needed to have the will to even go on and fight the good fight.

Then, they found their father and they began hunting again—all was well. As close to perfect as perfect could be. Though Dean never would've copped to it, he had never been happier in his life than he had been when they had all been reunited. He had his father, he had his brother…the two most important people in his life. There was nothing in the world…he could not do. Nothing in the world he could not face.

Until his father had died. John…laid down his own life, his own soul, and not only died, but went to hell to save Dean from dying.

That blow hit Dean harder than anything in his life ever had. Knowing he was the reason for his father's death was unbearable, and while he and Sammy never talked about it, they both knew that that was the only logical explanation for what had happened.

Then, once things had started looking up again and he could somewhat deal with the hand he'd been dealt with life…Sammy was killed. Sammy. His little brother. His responsibility.

Suddenly, nothing else mattered. Not how selfish he knew it was, not how mad he had been with his father for making the very same decision to save him, nothing. Only Sammy did.

So, he sold his soul to the Crossroads Demon, making a deal. His life for Sam's. And, she brought Sam back and gave Dean a year—one…year…to live—one year which was the most agonizing ever for Dean.

Sam had been pissed off at Dean for his decision—understandably, when looking from the outsider's point of view, but this…was Dean's point of view. And, Dean had known that he had to do it. He had to. He would not…lose anyone else in his life. He couldn't. He would not be able to go on without his little brother. Sammy was all he had left and without him, he had gone to total crap.

So, next year was spent…trying to save Dean from his deal. Obviously, didn't work. He went to hell. Sam lived. Dean suffered pain beyond even his own comprehension for a whole forty freakin' years, before he was saved…by Castiel. Enter Castiel.

So, Dean's back—oh, happy freakin' day—he's alive, Sam's alive, all's well and good and great. For a whole two seconds. Thus began their downfall…their major hard-core downfall to the only place worse than hell. A place where they were no longer the close brothers they had become up to this point. A place where they were now the worst of enemies who no longer knew the other—the person they had known better than anyone their whole lives—had become a total and complete stranger to the other.

It all started when Sammy was born…and then the world ended. Or something to that effect. A few details cut and left out.

Yes, Sam began using his damn psychic demon crap powers, trusted that freakin' bitch ho-bag demon, Ruby, who by the way would forever be burning in hell!, and he got all hooked on drinking her bitchy bitch blood of total bitchiness and scum whore bag-ness, turned on Dean by choosing that bitchy bitch of total bitchiness and scum whore bag-ness over Dean, making Lucifer rise, and ending the world.

So, yeah, you could say that their BFF relationship was taking a major knockdown to below rock bottom, a million feet of crap, and then hell. Yeah, they were still brothers; yeah, they still cared about each other; and no, Dean didn't exactly want to see Sammy die, no matter how dumb and reckless and idiotic and stupid and disgusting he had been. They were just no longer the equivalent of the good Bonnie and Clyde—minus, the coupling and the killing of innocent people; any killing they did were only to creatures who were unnatural and deserved it.

Yet…when Dean had been with Cas last night…it had been as if none of it mattered. As if everything would be okay. He lost his mother before he ever knew her, he lost his father, and now…he barely had enough pieces left of Sam to make half a brother. He had been to hell and back again and again and again and he had never once complained about it. He had never once questioned or wondered why; he just accepted their rotten luck and moved on.

With Cas, though, it wasn't just something he did because he felt he had an obligation to do it. He sincerely felt every bit at peace as he has ever felt in his life and it was as if all the answers to Dean's problems and concerns laid within Castiel. Within his angel.

And, it was. Everything was okay with Cas. It was better than okay. And, Dean knew, without a doubt, that everything would be right again. With the world, between him and Sammy, everything…That was what Cas had to offer him.

Dean looked over to Sam, sound asleep on the bed next to Dean's—out like a light—the back of his white t-shirt facing Dean. Sam had always slept like a log when he was a kid. In fact, Dean used to bang pots and pans together until his arms felt like they would fall off from how long he did it and Sammy wouldn't budge. An attribute he carried over to adulthood, definitely.

Sam's shoulders rose and fell evenly with every breath he took and Dean shifted his weight so that he could lean over and see Sam, to be sure he really was asleep.

"Psst…" he hissed, "Sammy? Sam, you awake? Sam?" No answer. Dean shrugged, "Okay, you asked for it."

Dean stuck his pinky finger into his mouth, swirling it around for a while, before pulling it out, dripping with his own saliva, and with a grimace he stuck it into Sam's ear. "Wet willy!" He whispered, triumphantly, waiting for him to respond to it.

Sam never did.

Dean even moved his finger around until the saliva in Sam's ear was so thick, it actually glistened when the light hit it just right.

"Sam!" Dean called, a little louder. "Damn, you still sleep through anything, kid."

He leaned back and shrugged again, falling back against his pillow. He grabbed Cas' tie and wrapped it several times around the palm of his hand until he reached the end of the tie. He played with the fabric several times, remembering last night with Cas.

God, it was so amazing, Dean was very close to spontaneously combusting from the inside. Very close. His body temperature was nearing 5,000,000 degrees Celsius as his body had moved so rhythmically, so hard-core against Cas', until they were in perfect synchronization with one another.

The friction. The heat. The coming together in every sense possible. The perfection. Never before had he felt such emotion while doing this act. Yeah, he felt the great big happy everyone felt; kinda hard not to, no pun intended. But, it was usually without emotion. Just raw, animal sexual feelings. He cared about nothing more than having the sex, ditching the girl, and moving on to the next hot creature that was lucky enough to cross paths with him.

But, with Cas, it was so much different. The sex was beyond incredible; it was better than any sex he had ever had with any woman before in his life, and that was saying a lot. He had had a lot of sex. More than most people can claim to have in their lifetime, that's for sure. But this was about so much more than just the sex. It was about actually being intimate with someone in a way that didn't even really require physical intimacy. That just happened to be one of the perks.

God, thinking about it was killing Dean. Where the hell was Cas? It's not like he had anywhere to be; he got fired. Unless he was picking up some strawberries and whipped cream for a kinky-ass time, he should've been here by now.

Dean kept going over certain parts of it in his head, certain remnants that tended to stick out at him. He kept picturing different scenarios for them to try. Having sex on the hood of his car really was adventurous for him, since that car was everything to him. He got pissed if anyone looked at it funny, let alone if they actually had sex on top of it. Yeah, he had had sex in it before, and that was great.

But, Cas just brought something else out in him entirely. Something even he didn't understand. And, he never would've thought that sex on the hood of that car would've been so damn exhilarating. He didn't even care if she's got a scratch on her from Cas' ass; it was worth it. It was so beyond worth it.

Oh, Cas. Cas…

Cas.

Okay. Okay, Dean couldn't take it anymore. He could not…take it…anymore. Sam was sound asleep, no way this would wake him up, so long as Dean was quiet. One of his talents with this was being very quiet even while turned on. He couldn't explain it; it was a gift. He was just that talented.

Dean looked over at Sam one last time to really, really be sure he was asleep. He looked around the room several times to make sure Cas hadn't spontaneously showed up and was just reveling in his effects on Dean, before shouting, "Hey!"

Sam gave a sleepy sigh and rolled over onto his stomach, resting one hand on the pillow beside his face, which was turned towards Dean, and his other arm was hanging off the side of the bed.

Nonetheless, though…he was still asleep.

Dean grimaced slightly, before turning away so that his back was to Sam—this would really help if he wasn't thinking about his brother while jerking off (hot as Sammy might be, he just didn't do anything for Dean). Dean held his breath, so as to not grunt or groan or moan or gasp or whimper or anything else that might give him away, as he lifted the waistband of his pants, and his hands dove right in without any thought about it.

Unh…ashdfpoweuryh9phjkbhda…flower…hophhgnyellowepurplemotherfu—oh! Dean's mouth instinctively fell open, struggling to get the oxygen he needed, and his whole body fell completely numb before flaring up in ecstasy, as he stroked the length of it first. Softly. Teasingly. Just enough to get him started.

He wasn't gonna come just yet; he was saving those goods for Cas, but, wow, did this suffice for now.

He stroked it again. Again. He moved on to lightly squeeze…massage…okay, whoa, back off!

He immediately released himself so as to not come just yet. He had to save it. This was just a little foreplay for himself; he had to control himself.

Looking down, he saw he was dangerously close to blowing it. Oh, God, don't think about that, he silently scolded, immediately looking away to calm himself.

When he did finally allow himself to look down again, having to bite his lip to keep from whining since he was holding off, he imagined Cas yesterday and the things he had done to him. To it. The beautiful wonderful things he had made him feel as his hands and lips caressed him, touched him, kissed him, took full possession of him until he was truly his.

Finally a good possession.

Suddenly, Dean got an interesting idea as he looked at Cas' tie, still wrapped around the palm of his hand.

He slowly unwrapped it, not wanting to rush this idea, hoping that drawing it out will make the end result even better.

Unfortunately though, he didn't last long. The anticipation was too damn much and he was in too damn need for this fix, so he ripped his pants down so that they were between his mid-thigh and knees; he couldn't be too sure since that was hardly his biggest concern right now.

He now wrapped the tie around it, making it as tight as possible before moving it up and down slowly at first, but then progressing to a lot faster and a lot harder. Speaking of…

He got harder and harder as time went on and as he continued this, loving the effect it had on him, most likely since he knew it belonged to Cas and something about that fact just excited Dean like he never would've expected.

He gave strained whimpers and sighs, only screaming Cas' name in his head so that he would not disturb his brother, and at one point, he started trembling so hard with his need to release that he gripped the inside of his leg with tightly with his hand, digging his nails into his skin, and slamming his leg against the bed, locking it in place to make things slightly easier for him.

"Cas…" he finally allowed himself to choke out, his features set into a mask of determination. Determined to satisfy himself without actually allowing himself to get to the climax alone. Determined to save the best parts for Cas, but also determined to give himself a fix while he had it.

"Cas," he grunted, through clenched teeth, as his eyes fluttered open and shut and his mouth dropped open in ecstasy, his head falling back, and his back arching upward, as he called his name again.

"Damn it, Cas…hear me." He commanded, hoping Cas actually could hear him and would oblige to his wishes and come.

Oh, no. Come. Come. Crap. He was coming. No. No! Damn it, stop. He stiffened up in the hopes to slow it down and make it stop, but it was a little too late.

He shifted his weight and tightened the tie around himself, hoping that would stop it, but by the time he had finished, it was already so drenched in it that it was dripping, and Dean had to hold it in both hands, staring at it slightly ashamed.

Damn. He thought he had it under control. Guess not. Eh, well. That was Cas' punishment for staying away so damn long.

"Starting the show without me, I see," Cas' voice issued from behind him, but it was much closer than usual.

For once, Dean didn't start. For once, he wanted this; he expected this. He enjoyed…this.

Dean felt the heat radiating off of Cas and felt Cas' hand being placed on his knee and making its way up the inside of Dean's leg to where Dean's hand rested.

Dean stopped breathing, not even gracing Cas with a snippy remark. Cas teasingly removed Dean's hand, placing it on the bed beside Dean's leg, before moving his hand up even more until it reached the golden spot.

Dean's breath hitched, as he waited to see what Cas would do.

Wasting no time at all, Cas immediately grabbed Dean and began massaging him, caressing him, digging his nails into his skin, and doing everything he could possibly think to do until he had Dean crying out his name, his voice hoarse like he had been sick or something, since he tried to keep quiet.

Dean had come and come and come all over Cas' hand so that when Cas finally lifted his hand to be seen, it was dripping down onto the arm of his trench coat and dripping off the trench coat onto Dean himself and the sheets of the bed.

"Wow…Cas…" Dean gasped out, his chest heaving with the effort it took for him to catch his breath. He grunted. "What the hell are you doing to me?"

"I would love to know," Cas admitted, grabbing his tie from around Dean, where he had never actually removed it, and it was now covered from Dean's 2nd, 3rd, and 4th times around.

Cas held the tie in his hands and shifted himself so that he now hovered over Dean. He caressed Dean's face with the tie, before commanding, "Open your mouth."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

"Open…your mouth."

"Nuh-uh, mister; my turn first and then yours." Dean shifted himself, trying to prepare for his turn at the oral, but Cas put a restraining hand on his bare chest and held him locked in place on the bed.

"Dean. Do it."

"Okay," Dean did so, and Cas balled up the tie in his hands before wringing it out into Dean's mouth.

Dean grimaced, but did what was implied/commanded, and swallowed it, surprising himself when he arched his back up for more. Whoa…this was so beyond f-ing crazy.

Yet something about the concept excited the living hell out Dean.

When Cas finished, he wiped the remains of what was left in the tie onto his own face, before burying his face into the tie and sniffing in deep, his eyes shutting in ecstasy as he committed that very scent to memory, refusing to ever, ever let it go.

Dean was suddenly very aware and disappointed that Cas still had his clothes on and whispered, roughly, "Hey! What the hell is this, Cas! Take off your damn clothes this instant."

Then an idea suddenly occurred to Dean: how the hell was he suddenly completely naked? He had only removed his pants part way, but now suddenly, they were flung across the nightstand, hanging very dangerously close to Sam's face.

Eh, who cares? That thought was immediately pushed out by the fact that Cas still had not moved, still fully dressed, making Dean grimace accusingly at him.

"Am I going to have to force it upon you, Cas? Is that the challenge I am sensing from you?"

As if accepting the unspoken challenge, Dean placed his hands assertively onto Cas' chest and shoved him back hard onto the bed, immediately slamming his body against Cas', his hands working immediately to remove his clothes, his lips working hard and fast against Cas' lips, intensifying the kisses more and more as he continued on.

The impact from the collision of Dean's body with Cas' made Cas actually grunt, but it went unnoticed since their lips met almost simultaneously to Dean's body crashing down upon his, making them lose all will to acknowledge anything except the existence of the other.

Within minutes, they were both completely naked and Dean's immediately made to give Cas his true 2,000 years in heaven—God, 2,000 years of sex with Cas would be freakin' amazing. The thought made him even more eager for this to happen, making Dean press his hand against it, tugging at it gently, while his lips memorized the very taste and texture and existence of Cas' lips.

He pulled harder at it. Harder. Harder. Increasing the pressure until he had rubbed Cas' completely raw. It had hurt, but Cas wouldn't have allowed Dean to stop for the world. It hurt so…f*cking good. In fact, at one point, Cas had gotten so into it that he actually assisted Dean in his rubbing it raw.

When Dean finished, after what seemed like a lifetime—a freakin' beautiful lifetime—Cas moaned Dean's name, his voice much deeper and huskier than usual, his eyes struggling to stay open, to look into Dean's eyes, who looked—from what Cas could see—very pleased with his abilities to affect Cas like this.

"On your back," Cas commanded, gesturing for Dean to get off of him, though God knew that was the last thing he ever wanted.

Dean gave him a suggestive smile, "You mean, you want to get on my back?" He was lying on his side, and made to lie on his stomach to give Cas the access he had assumed he wanted, but Cas stopped him.

"No…" He waited for Dean's eyes to meet his, a look of confusion on his face, "Lie…on your back."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows, "You know, I don't think you quite understand the concept of gay sex, Cas." Dean suggested, still not understanding what it was Cas wanted from him.

"Just trust me, Dean. Do it. Believe me, it'll be worth…your f*cking…while." The way he leaned down and practically growled the words into Dean's ear, made him immediately oblige, no questions asked. Wow, it was freakishly hot. Really freakishly hot.

Dean laid back, immediately opening his legs as wide as they would go—practically so wide that they were resting against either side of the bed—and his chest was heaving with the desperate breaths he was dragging in by the gallons, knowing that pretty soon his oxygen supply would be very much cut off.

Cas' eyes never left Dean's as he hooked his legs through Dean's, and climbed up in between the tangle of legs, so that he was straddling Dean's waist and every little bit of him was connected somehow to Dean.

Dean grunted at the effects this was having on him, as they "connected" in a way he never thought possible and Cas began shifting himself against Dean's body to create the world's greatest of friction and he moved in rhythmic circles against Dean as Dean's hips bucked up in response again and again and again.

Cas increased the pressure and speed until Dean was hoarse from his lack of screaming Cas' name for an immeasurable amount of time, since they were both too occupied to keep track of them time and trying to stay quiet so that they wouldn't wake up Sam with their sexcapades.

Cas noticed that anytime Dean would cry out his name, it sounded like a rough, guttural, and gruff rendition of his name, yet it was the most beautiful sound in the world. Dean sounded like he was sick with a terrible cough, Cas noted, and he felt really bad about that since he knew he could hack the lack of screaming, whereas Dean could not. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to give the slightest damn.

At one point, Cas shifted his weight up so that his groin now rested against Dean's stomach, which flexed and contracted against it with Dean's vain and useless attempts to breathe.

Cas began moving around and around and around faster and faster and faster until he began to come all over Dean's stomach, and it began spilling over Dean's sides and pooling in the distinctions of his six-pack and even down into the hollows of his thighs.

Dean whimpered and shuddered involuntarily at that as he gripped Cas' shoulders tightly in his hands and shoved him down against his stomach so that Cas had to suck it off.

The tip of Cas' tongue traced down the side of Dean's waist, licking it off, before going over to lick and suck and bite and kiss and do everything else he could possibly think of to the distinctions of Dean's six-pack. His hand dug into the hollow of Dean's thigh to wipe it off there, but he wound up getting lost in massaging it, and just wound up smearing it into the skin.

His hand tightly gripped Dean now, catching him by surprise making his breath hitch, as he now gave Dean the royal treatment. Dean had already been coming for a quite a while now, so Cas mixed the come off of his hand with Dean's, moving his hand around to be sure to mix them together.

Then, he brought his hand up and placed the back of his hand against Dean's chest before licking the combination of them off of the palm of his hand and then burying his tongue passionately into Dean's mouth, giving him a taste of the most wonderful substance in creation.

Cas made to pull his hand away, but Dean locked it against his lips and began kissing, licking, and sucking on every inch of it, before tracing his parted lips in a line up Cas' arm, which left a scorching trail of fire not far behind it.

When Dean reached his shoulder, he pushed him away slightly so that he could drape his legs, which were now very much asleep, over Cas' shoulder, resting his weight against Cas' shoulders, and shifting himself upward so that his groin was now right at Cas' lips.

Not even an inch—hell, not even a centimeter away.

Cas stared at him, eager to taunt him, but Dean locked both his arms around Cas' neck, burying his fingers into Cas' hair before slamming his head down onto it, now burying himself into Cas' mouth, which immediately closed around him and began doing such wonderful things to him, that Dean felt fairly certain he was dead and had flown to heaven with Cas.

Dean shifted himself up and down, up and down, up and down repeatedly, taking Cas' face in his hands now and shifting himself around and around so as to feel all the best parts in all the best places.

Cas' tongue wrapped passionately around Dean, tugging him in even further—so far that he was practically pressed against the back of his throat as he began giving him the best damn oral sex of his effing life.

Cas bit him several times, as he clutched him even closer against himself, so that he felt nothing but Dean's skin on his as he licked and sucked and bit and did everything his mouth could possibly deem possible to do, never feeling such levels of happiness, until there was finally no more. He had completely sucked Dean dry.

When he finally released Dean, he saw that Dean's groin was red from how hard Cas had been sucking, and while Dean gasped slightly in pain, all the other noises following were noises of pleasure and ecstasy as the night went on.

"Should…we really…be doing this here?" Cas choked out, once all was said and done—so many times that they both lost count—and Cas was lying helplessly against Dean's chest, both in a tangle of arms and legs—and other more significant parts. Unfortunately, though they had both dried themselves out and had absolutely nothing left inside of them to go on.

Dean glanced over to his brother, who was still sound asleep—he had slept through this whole ordeal, not waking once—and shrugged, "Yeah, it should be all right. Sammy's too busy dreamin' of fairies and sugar plums to actually wake up. He never even gets up to go to the bathroom when he's sleeping."

"And, how exactly do you plan on explaining this mess?"

"Playing dumb. Just say I had the hardest cores of wet dreams; he don't have to know I'm really having sex with God's sexiest angel, all right?"

"What; you ashamed of me, Dean?" Cas sounded somewhat hurt by that fact.

"Of course not, Cas; I am very proud of you. I just don't wanna give Sam more than he can handle right now, is all. With everything that's going on, I just don't think he can handle that his big brother's suddenly gay, you know? It's just too much. I'll tell him later. When he's ready."

Cas nodded, "You're going to tell him. Like…this isn't just sex to you. It's more."

Dean actually met his eyes and smiled, "So much more than I ever thought myself capable of, Cas." Dean admitted.

"What does that mean?" Cas wondered, truly curious.

"Don't know yet." Dean settled for that, "Let you know when I do, though. Promise. Definitely more than sex, but…we had a connection long before those particular connections, Cas. You pulled me out of hell; you and I have something I can never share…with anyone else. That's pretty damn special, all on its own, don't you think?"

"No, Dean, I know." Cas said, pressing his lips softly to the hollow in Dean's throat before moving up to kiss his lips. "You've given me everything when I had nothing. That makes it special."

"Nah, just makes you special," Dean joked, "I don't just give away everything to anybody. I've never given my full self to anyone before, not even Sammy or my dad. Only you. You're the only person who, you know…I—"

Dean's eyes drifted downward to their tangle of clothes strewn about on the floor, and he hated his inability to say the words. He didn't even know yet; did he?

"Cas, I don't know; I just—"

"When you're ready, Dean." Cas quieted him with a kiss. "You tell me when you're ready. I'm not pushing."

"Well, do you?" Dean asked him, out of curiosity.

"What do you think?" Cas challenged, before suddenly disappearing, leaving Dean with a final kiss on his pec, leaving him to ponder those words and establish his own feelings for him.

The spot where Cas' lips had just kissed him burned intensely and Dean knew that that would be a constant reminder to him…that Cas did.

Castiel, angel of the Lord, was in love with Dean Winchester, human of the Earth—and there was a slight possibility that Dean Winchester, human of the earth, very possibly loved Castiel, angel of the Lord, right back.

God, things really were screwed up these days, weren't they?

Cas' lips on Dean's. Cas' hands caressing Dean' skin. Cas' tongue dancing in perfect harmony with Dean's. Names are whispered, moaned, and whimpered like a sacred prayer on the other's lips. Backs arching upward. Arms and legs entwining. Bodies desperate to be closer and closer to each other. Drowning in the greatest depths of the sea of ecstasy.

The greatest of powers felt as Cas slammed himself fiercely into Dean. The greatest of orgasms happening in this very moment as Cas released everything he had to offer inside of Dean.

The greatest of powers felt as Dean in turn buried himself just as fiercely and desperately into Cas. Yet another orgasm reached as Dean released himself into Cas.

Another orgasm. Followed in rapid succession by another. Another. Another.

Until nothing was left inside of them except for sheer pleasure and content as they lie naked wrapped in each other's arms, still whispering the other's name, still kissing the other's lips, still caressing the other's skin with their own…Hands and lips moving tenderly, lovingly across warm, beautiful, perfect skin.

God, this could not be real. Could it? No, it couldn't possibly. Dean never knew such happiness existed, and never realized what he had been missing out on. With such perfect happiness in existence, how could the evil possibly exist? Shouldn't such happiness completely wipe out and destroy all evil completely?

Dean started awake, lying there in a newly weakened state of ecstasy. Sweat glistened on his skin, running down his chest, arms, neck. His chest heaved, falling up and down rapidly as he struggled to catch his breath and recover. He was trembling from the effects his dream had on him, and he gasped desperately, trying to remember exactly what it was he needed oxygen for again.

His head turned to glance over at the clock: 7:30 AM. The sun was still down, the sky still darkened, Dean noticed, as he glanced now out the window.

Glancing towards Sam's empty bed, Dean found a note on the nightstand in Sam's terrible excuse for handwriting:

Dean turned on the table lamp and squinted his eyes, waiting for them to adjust, before attempting to decipher what it said:

"Bobby called. A vamp problem two towns over. Tried to wake you, but you were out; had to go take care of it. Give a call if you want. Keep you posted and be back soon. --Sam."

"Uncanny, Sammy," Dean mumbled, his voice still groggy and hoarse, both from last night's sexcapades and with how freakin' tired he was. "Lame excuse, buddy boy, still trying to avoid me?"

Dean had made it perfectly clear that he was not going to freakin' murder Sammy in his sleep or nothing just to get back at him for what he did. But, apparently, Sam was still a little worried and determined to avoid Dean at all costs. Gee, was he so damn hard to live with?

Dean made to scramble out of bed, but found that his legs were very much jelly and could not function of their own will. Oh, crap. Now that he was thinking about it, he realized that they were still asleep and he would not be to stand up for a good long while. And, that was not all.

He shifted himself and wound up finding even more evidence of his sex dream with Cas. Or was that real too? It might have been real, for all he knew, Cas loved screwing with him…in every way possible, but especially with the whole screwing-with-his-mind concept.

After about ten minutes, Dean was finally able to force himself to stand up, using the nightstand to support himself. He stood for a long moment, waiting for the strength to return to his legs long enough for him to make it the ten feet to the damn bathroom without collapsing.

When he finally could move, he placed his feet on the floor, taking great care to not hurt himself. From the movement, his legs immediately began tingling from lack of movement, and Dean began jumping up and down to try to relieve them.

"Oh, damn it!" He said, gripping the nightstand tightly to hold himself up right. Once he recovered, he stepped one foot forward, but wound up stepping on his shoe, and tripping over it. "Son of a bitch." He muttered, through clenched teeth, casting accusing eyes towards the shoe.

He fell forward, catching himself on the edge of Sam's bed, and he used it to right himself again. Crap, man.

He scratched his neck awkwardly before staggering his way into the bathroom, slapping the wall randomly several times, looking for the light switch. He turned it on and immediately shielded his face, cringing away from the light. "God." He mumbled, "I'm freakin' blind now. Seeing…dots. Oh, God."

He leaned against the counter, hanging his head and closing his eyes until he was sure they had adjusted, before looking back up to the mirror. His hair stood up every which way and he had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, but he didn't give a crap. It was so worth it. He'd do it again and again every night, if it meant having sex with Cas.

Speaking of Cas…where was he? He should've been here by now, shouldn't he? He used to freakin' watch Dean sleep; you'd think he'd be standing by just waiting for him to wake up so that they could freakin' go at it again.

Dean glanced down to see his legs were covered in stains from both him and Cas, but he could easily recognize which was which. Recognizing one of Cas', he licked his finger before going down to rub it off, and then bringing it back up to suck on his finger.

He moaned and choked out a strained, "Oh, God, it tastes so good…" Hoping Cas was nearby, he said, as loud as he could without actually yelling, "Guess I need to take a shower to…rub…all this…off of me. Might need some…angelic sex assistance, here. Or fine, just…stay away…and I'll do it myself. Hope you enjoy this show, Cas."

Reaching in, Dean turned the knob to turn the water on and held his hand under the water for a moment, waiting for it to warm up to his liking before leaning his back against the wall, and saying, while arching his back upward, "Suit yourself, Cas." He placed his hands directly above his knees before intensely moving his hands upward.

He rubbed the skin, as if trying to remove the stains, but if anything, all he was doing was turning himself on.

"All right," he choked out, "…and here I go."

Slowly, as if knowing Cas was there and he wanted desperately to taunt him, Dean stepped one foot into the shower, placing both hands against the back shower wall for support, and raising his other foot so that he was now completely in the shower.

He turned his back to the water, allowing the hot water to cascade down upon him. He tilted his head back as far as it would go, his mouth wide open, as he allowed the water to fall onto his face and then moving his head around so that the water, hoping that if Cas was anywhere nearby, he'd catch the show and stop by.

After last night, Dean had no idea how Cas could resist even if he wanted to. Last night was the most intense and best sexual encounter he had ever had in his life, and God knew he had had more than his fair share of sexual encounters. Something about last night just intensified everything between them. It made their connection so powerful that Dean knew Cas was incapable of ignoring his call. Especially when his call promised sex attached to it.

Dean picked up the little mini shampoo bottle that the motel provided, squeezed half the bottle out into the palm of his hand, and began lathering it gently into his skin and hair. His hands worked to massage his scalp before gliding down to now rub the soap into the skin of his neck, arms, chest, and legs before turning around to face the water now. He stepped right underneath the water so that it poured down onto his skin, combining with the suds and rolling off his skin and down the drain of the shower, as Dean rubbed himself down to entice Cas, if he was watching.

He spun around several times, running both hands over his hair to make sure he had all the soap out, before going down to rub his neck and shoulders, tilting his head back and side-to-side, his mouth falling open as he tried to breathe with the water hitting his face full-on.

He realized then that he couldn't get his back, and knew for a fact that he definitely had himself a souvenir from Cas back there too somewhere, but he also knew that if he couldn't see it, he certainly couldn't clean it.

"Oh, damn it," he muttered to himself, struggling to turn his head around both directions to attempt to see something.

He reached a hand back and fumbled to try to reach it, but his attempts were very useless. "Oh, you bitch!" He exclaimed, straining even further to reach, but again failing.

Suddenly, familiar warm hands appeared out of nowhere, enclosing around Dean's calves and moving around to his shins, stopping him cold. He couldn't breathe. Or think. Cas.

Dean struggled to not collapse at the touch, locking his muscles to ensure he wouldn't pass out right then and there and Cas' hands rapidly moved themselves up the back of Dean's legs and his lips were suddenly at Dean's ear as his hands rested in the middle of Dean's back.

"You missed a spot," he accused, but his voice sounded quite strained, as if he was holding something in. Some emotion that was almost unbearable for him.

Dean made to turn around to see what was wrong, but Cas immediately jerked him around so that he slammed him--face first--against the wall. Dean grunted softly, grimacing slightly, from the impact of his body smacking the wall hard enough that it did hurt a little, but if anything, it turned him on even more, as he knew what was coming.

Oh, did he know what was coming, since he could feel not only his own erection starting up, but he could also very much feel Cas' growing harder and more prominent against his lower back, teasing him, taunting him.

"Oh, God, Cas…just do it." Dean pleaded, digging his fingertips into the wall so hard that his hands were shaking from the effort, and he shifted himself so that he was pressing his back hard against Cas, praying for him to give him what he wanted.

"Let me…help you out here, Dean," Cas offered, the palm of his hand massaging intense hard-core circles into Dean's back, both to help him clean it and to help urge him further along with his orgasm, which he could feel was nearing.

"Help me out with what exactly?" Dean managed to choke out, hating the fact that he sounded so vulnerable around Cas. While Cas' very aggressive approach to sex this time was a huge turn-on and a great new development, there was still a very small part of Dean--the small percentage of him that did not completely revolve around sex--that was concerned for Cas, sensing Cas' pain and anxiety.

That concern completely vanished when Cas suddenly, without any warning at all, plunged himself into Dean--practically a damn pro at it by now--as he clutched Dean closer to him and jerked Dean upward slightly so that he fit inside him so much easier and he began rocking himself back and forth against Dean--skin on skin, friction with friction--…He leaned forward so that there was no space whatsoever between him and Dean as he nearly growled the words:

"Let me help you…come…the fuck…out, Dean. For me, you understand me? Only…for…me."

"Oh, God, yes," Dean choked out, his forehead resting weakly against the wall, as he lost the ability to hold himself up once again. "Yes, yes, Cas. You, Cas. Only you. Only…you." Dean didn't know if he would be capable of sticking to that promise later--since he promised woman after woman that they were the only one during sex--but something told him that it would be a hell of a lot easier to keep than it usually was.

Dean gripped the wall tighter and thrashed himself about, throwing his weight up and down, hard and fast on Cas, until they were both screaming the other's name, showing no restraint as they had last night, since Sam wasn't there to disturb.

Cas wrapped one arm tightly around Dean's waist, his nails digging into Dean's skin, and his other hand fumbled around for only a moment before finally finding…aha!

Cas wrapped his hand firmly around Dean, tightening his hold on it, and massaging the effing crap--or rather, come--out of it, even while continuing to give Dean anal sex, both of them feeling as if they would explode from how hard-core this was affecting them.

Son of a bitch, man. Dean had given anal to a daring girl or two in his day, but wow, he never would've imagined it could feel this damn good from this particular perspective before. What was it about Cas that made Dean just completely forget everything in the world that did not consist of 100% sex with Cas?

Once Cas finished up, he reluctantly pulled out of Dean, hating himself for doing so, until Dean turned to look at him. "Cas," Dean mumbled, not really capable of saying much else right now.

Cas still looked utterly devastated at something--standing before Dean, soaking wet and hotter than ever before.

"Hey," Dean choked out, brushing Cas' cheek with the back of his knuckles, "What's wrong, Cas?"

Cas shook his head. "Not now, Dean." Cas argued, "Please just…no."

"Why not?" Dean wondered.

"Because I am still not done having my way with you, for starters, " Cas pointed out, turning the knob to turn off the water. "That takes priority over everything, wouldn't you agree?"

"Don't let me stop you," Dean said, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture, as Cas touched his fingers to Dean's forehead, and before Dean could blink, they were out in the other room.

Dean took a moment to recover before saying, "God, you know, that whole disappearing crap thing is a real bitch for us a mere humans."

"You are the farthest thing…from a mere human, Dean," Cas contradicted. "You are very much not mere."

Dean grimaced suggestively, "Then, prove it, why don't you? Do me very much not merely then."

A look of confusion crossed Cas' features. "Don't you want your turn?" Cas wondered.

"No…I want to screw all your problems away, Cas. However it works. You look like crap, Cas, you need it more than me; much as I hate to admit it."

"Dean--" Cas began, but Dean stopped him, by holding up a hand to stop him and using the other to point to his groin suggestively.

"Eat it, F-bitch!" He ordered, not taking no for an answer.

Cas sensed that and didn't hesitate for a second before lunging for Dean, throwing him onto the bed, wrenching Dean's legs open, and tracing Dean with the tip of his tongue first before taking Dean in and oral-ing him up right nice. Several times.

For which, Dean repaid the favor for Cas. Orally. Then anal. Oral. Anal. Oral. Then…crap, he lost count, but whatever they did, they took turns having sex with the other however the hell it worked.

Once all was said and done, Dean threw himself back down to the foot of the bed so that his head was hanging off, and his chest was heaving desperately as he struggled for breath.

Cas collapsed weakly on top of him, their arms embracing the other and their lips meeting once, twice…three times more, before Cas finally rested his head against Dean's chest, both of them merely taking comfort and satisfaction in the pleasure of the other's company.

Sexually, obviously, but mentally, emotionally, and even physically--drawing strength and peace from the mere presence of the other. Drawing the strength and peace they needed to carry on in this battle and to fight the good fight to the very end.

"Dean," Cas' voice called from the void, reaching out to Dean, but not quite touching him.

Cas' fingertips lightly brushed against Dean's skin as his lips now hovered above Dean's ear, and he whispered his name repeatedly, his arm tightening around Dean and holding him against him.

"Dean, wake up. Can you hear me? Come to me, Dean," Cas' voice was commanding and so powerful that Dean felt a thrill go through him with those words, as he allowed his eyes to open and fix themselves onto Cas'.

"I come for you, Cas," Dean mumbled, groggily, as he stretched and arched his back upward to wake himself up. "That count?"

Cas didn't even crack a smile at Dean's joke though, and Dean got the sense that the time for sex and games were over, damn it.

"Dean, this is serious." Pain filled Cas' features as he grimaced and hung his head, ashamed.

"What is it?" Dean now grew solemn as he realized that Cas was not only serious, but whatever it was was causing him great pain, and that was more important right now. "Cas, what's wrong?"

"It's Sam," Cas told him, averting his eyes as he said, his next words, "I'm so sorry, Dean."

"Sorry for what?" Dean's voice was only just above a whisper.

"Sam…has been taken, Dean." Cas forced his eyes to meet Dean's. "He's been taken over…by Lucifer. He's given his consent, Dean." He hesitated for a brief moment before shaking his head, ashamed, and saying, "I'm so sorry, Dean. This is--I wish there was--" he tightened his hold on Dean protectively, "I was supposed to protect you. I was supposed to protect…you, Dean. You and Sam. And, I failed."

God, the pain in Cas' voice was unbearable for Dean, ripping at him at ways he never thought possible, even having spent forty long-ass years getting his ass ripped apart over and over and over again. This hurt a million times worse than that.

There was a part of him that was concerned for Sam, worried for his brother and wanting desperately to charge after him and make him safe again, no matter what it cost him. But, there was another stronger part of him right now that reminded him of something: Sam gave his consent.

He chose…to let Lucifer take him over. He chose to trust Ruby over Dean, and he chose to turn himself into her little blood-whipped bitch. And, those very choices led Sam to end the freakin' world. Maybe Dean just had to accept the fact that…he couldn't save his brother. He could only give so much so many times before he had nothing left to offer in exchange for Sammy's life.

Yeah, it was a bitch and Dean sure as hell did not want to accept it as reality, but seeing the pain this was causing Cas was a greater concern for him right now.

Cas was with him. Here. Right now. And, Cas needed his help. Here. Right now. He couldn't just abandon Cas to go after Sam when Cas was the one here with him now.

Sam didn't care enough to try to fight anymore, obviously, and if Dean allowed himself to be dragged down by his brother, he'd be drowning in Sammy's mistakes for the rest of his life. He was not a kid anymore and he could not let the responsibility of Sam hold him back any longer. There were more important matters at hand here and Sam was no longer a priority.

"Dean, did you hear me?" Cas asked, softly, his voice filled with sympathy and concern.

"Yeah." Dean said, never feeling more certain about anything in his life, "Loud and clear. Sammy's let Lucifer in. Great. Just perfect. Mr. Self-Righteous, Holier-Than-Thou, whatever gave himself up. And, here I thought I'd taught Sam the rules of hide-and-seek better than that."

"Dean, I don't think--"

"Yeah, you're right he didn't mean it," Dean guessed at what he would say to defend the pathetic son of a bitch. "Just like he didn't mean…to end the world, and he didn't mean to choose some demon bitch over me. And, he didn't mean to hold me to the ground and choke the freakin' hell out of me. Ironic, huh? Considering I went there for his sake, to save his ass…and this, this…is how he repays me."

"Dean," Cas shook his head, clearly trying to find the right words to say, "You can't just…let this happen. He's your brother, Dean. First…and foremost. You said it yourself. You're family…and no matter what happens, that will never, ever change."

"It just did," Dean said, stubbornly, his voice hard as he shoved Cas away and sat up, "I have no such obligation to him any longer, Cas. He lost the right to have me as a brother…when he let that son of a bitch take him over, you understand me?" His voice was growing angry, and Cas flinched, not knowing if the anger was directed towards him or the situation.

"Dean, I understand how…difficult this must be for you to handle."

"Oh, you so…do not understand crap…about how this is for me to handle, Cas," Dean accused, now standing up, wrapping one of the sheets securely around his waist.

"Why; because I'm not human?" Cas challenged, now rising up to his knees so that he could see into Dean's eyes easier. "You do not have to be human…to feel human emotions, Dean."

Yeah, he proved that already. Very, very well , did he prove that. "No, because you so do not understand crap about how this is for me to handle, Cas," Dean repeated himself, backing up a few paces, Cas' proximity managing to distract him even while he was on the verge of freakin' pissed off.

"I understand what it's like to give everything of yourself for someone you care about only to have them stab you in the back for it." Cas said, his tone now matching Dean's, as he his eyes now met Dean's, both of them challenging the other with a glare.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean demanded.

"It means that Sam needs you, Dean. Now more than ever. Are you really going to turn your back on him now?"

"He did it to me," Dean pointed out.

"I thought you wanted to help him, Dean."

"I did. Back when he was still my brother. He's not…my brother anymore, Cas. He's freakin' Lucifer using Sam as a meat suit. Even if I do find some way to kill and send his ass back to hell…who's to say Sam will even make it? Chances are he'll fry and we'll have ourselves an extra crispy Sam on our hands to deal with."

"Dean, what…is the matter with you? Your father would not have wanted you to do this. He would want to save Sam and he'd give anything for that to happen. You know he would."

"Yeah, well he hasn't been put through the hell that Sammy put me through the past year." Dean blurted out without thinking, "I mean, I went to hell and everything I suffered there…was nothing compared to what Sam has put me through with his betrayal. I would rather have stayed dead and died remembering him as my little brother that I gave my life for and who would've given his life for me if necessary, than to have been brought only to have this become of our relationship. We were what; destined to hate each other's guts from day one? Kill the other as if it was nothing? Great. Your people won, Cas. They took my brother from me. Congratulations, I have nothing left. Nothing left to fight for--" Dean cut himself off, and shook his head, making to walk away, when Cas stopped him.

"You have me," Cas pointed out, "You're not alone, Dean; you never will be. I will not allow that…to ever happen to you."

Dean rolled his eyes, with a scoff, "God, Cas, what the hell do you want from me, huh?" Dean demanded, angrily, "Huh, what? It's over, buddy. I lost. I see Sammy again, I'm dead. He'll kill me; we know he will."

"No, he will not, Dean. I will not let him. Together, Dean…together, we can track him down and we can save him."

"Not interested," Dean lied, jerking around and making to stalk away when Cas reached out and grabbed his hand, looking at him pleadingly.

"Oh, you are," Cas accused, now grabbing him roughly by the shoulders, "You are…very interested and I can help you, Dean. You know I can."

"How exactly can you help me?" Dean said, his voice growing even angrier. "It's over, Cas. It's done; he gave himself over willingly, he let Lucifer in. Aside from me letting you in, I fail to see how you can help me."

"Dean, if I give myself to Lucifer, allow him to kill me…then Sam will come back. Lucifer will die, his demonic minions, evil all together will not die completely but it'll certainly be knocked down for a good…long…while. Sam will return to normal, the world, no more apocalypse…everything will be as it was before."

"You what?" Dean wasn't buying this.

"I'll sacrifice myself, Dean. I will die…to give you and Sam your lives back. It has no choice but to work. It's our only option left, Dean. It will work, it has to work. All we have to do now is find Sam. And, then, my life, my soul--is Lucifer's…in place of yours."

Dean was silent for a long moment, taking Cas on in his glaring contest, considering that, trying desperately to absorb and make sense of his words. "Are you…out of your freaking mind?" Dean's voice was raising heatedly, as he realized just what Cas was suggesting.

"No…Dean." Cas said, as assertive as ever before, "No, I am not. I know exactly what I am doing."

"And, why…in the hell…would I ever let you do that, Cas?" Dean challenged, about ready to explode with how freakin' pissed off he was.

"Because, you need your brother, Dean. You need him back. You don't…need me." Cas sounded so damn sure of that piece of crap that he might as well have just beat the living hell of Dean with how much that hurt.

"No, Cas," Dean said, voice hard, as he shoved Cas back angrily. Cas barely staggered at all, but he forced himself to in order to make sure Dean didn't get hurt with his efforts. "Cas, no." God, he wished he knew what he could say to make this better for both of them. A way to make Cas see without bringing in the damn awkward factor. "Damn it, Cas…just no!"

"Why not?"

" 'Why not'; are you kidding me, Cas?" Dean quoted, desperate to make him see, "Well, gee, I don't know; how about the fact that you saved my ass from freakin' hell when God knows I belonged there--"

"No, Dean, God commanded you to be pulled out." Castiel reminded him.

"Or so your superiors would've had you believe, Cas," Dean pointed out, "They were screwing with you from the start, Cas, to get you to do their freakin' bidding without question. They knew if they told you what you wanted to hear, you'd jump right on that. For all we know, God never wanted me out and they just pulled me out to bring on Apocalypse Now."

"I do not believe that, Dean." Cas contradicted, moving forward to place a hand gently on Dean's cheek, but Dean jerked away.

"No! Of course you don't, Cas! Because as far as you're concerned, everything is all freakin' heaven all the freakin' time and nothing is ever wrong. So when something goes wrong, you just ignore the freakin' problem until it goes away."

"Dean…as far as you are concerned…I could never ignore the problem and wait for it to go away. As far as you…are concerned…my soul…is nothing…in comparison to what I would actually give for you."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that even if it was all a set-up and God didn't want you out of hell, Dean…I do. And I will not let you go back and I sure as hell will not let you lose your brother over this. There is plenty of blame to go around, I realize that, but we both know that if it wasn't for the angels entering the equation, the apocalypse could have been avoided and Sam would be himself right now."

"And, I would be in hell." Dean reminded him, "Cas, I am here right now because of you. And, Sam and I are here right now because of him. He didn't care enough to turn to me for help before turning to the freakin' devil; why should I care enough to help him now? Isn't the time for helping his sorry ass kinda over by now?"

"No, Dean. It is not over. It does not have to be. If Lucifer gets the soul of a powerful enough angel, he'll give up. If I hand my soul over to him, he'll consider himself victorious and he'll go back to hell himself. He'll call his troops back and--"

"And, what, Cas? What? What happens to you?"

"You know what happens to me," Cas said, in an obvious tone.

"No, I want to hear it from you. I want you to say the words, Cas. I want to hear the words from your lips." Dean was on the verge of hysteria.

"I'll be tortured…endless torment…an eternity in hell. All for the best cause." He added, knowing that even that wouldn't make Dean feel any better.

"How can you ask that of me?" Dean demanded, now pacing to help relieve his anger. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. Dean was just way too damn worked up right now. "After what you have done for me, how could you expect me to let you do that?"

"I am not doing this…only for you, Dean. I am doing this for the greater good. If Lucifer goes defeated with my sacrifice, then the apocalypse will not be completed. And, you and Sam--"

"Enough about Sam!" Dean nearly yelled, now grabbing Cas by his arms and jerking him in close to him. "Okay? I don't give a damn about Sam anymore, Cas; Sam does not exist. As long as I'm concerned, Sam is dead. He's gone."

"And, you don't care?" Cas' voice was had spoken the words perfectly, conveying no emotion, yet Dean could see the emotion in his eyes.

Without thinking, Dean blurted out, "No! I don't! He doesn't give the slightest crap about me, Cas. Why should I?"

"Because he's your brother," Cas reminded him, making no move to try to release Dean's tight grip on him. "Because you need him." Cas repeated, again sounding so devastated by the mere possibility that Dean needed Sam more than he needed him.

Dean's fingers bit even harder into Cas' arms as he tightened his grip on him, beyond pissed off, as he shook him violently, "Damn it, Cas, listen to me, you stupid-ass son of a bitch! I…need…you, do you understand me?" When Cas didn't answer, Dean repeated, "I said, do you understand me, Cas? Do you?"

Nothing but Cas' pain-filled eyes answered Dean, as Cas struggled against the emotions stirring within him, trying desperately to make sense of them. They all tangled together, forming a big whirl of confusion, taking over his mind, as he struggled and struggled, not knowing quite what it was he was facing:

Anger. Frustration. Pain. Fear. Devastation. Concern…and most importantly…love. It was all so overwhelming and Cas was drowning in it all, using all of his strength to discern one unbearable emotion from another unbearable emotion and trying to decide how to deal with each one.

"Dean, please…"

"That is not what I asked, Cas. You answer me. Do you understand me?"

When Cas didn't answer, Dean grimaced with a slight shrug, "Fine. Then, I'll prove it to you. I need you, Cas."

With that, Dean crushed his lips to Cas', holding Cas so tightly against him that even Cas didn't have the capability of moving, even if he wanted to. Dean slammed him down, face-first, onto the bed, clutching Cas by his shoulders, holding him so close and digging his nails in so far that had he been human, it would've drawn blood.

"I need you," Dean practically snarled the words into Cas' ear, his lips trembling against Cas' skin as he slammed himself hard and desperately and passionately into Cas, fitting himself into Cas so well, it was as if they had both been molded from one another, from this shape, destined to be as one. As if Cas was made from Dean and Dean from Cas, two perfect pieces to the most beautiful and perfect of puzzles.

Cas' trembling hands clenched desperately at the sheets as he arched his back against Dean and shifted his weight beneath him, anticipating what he knew would come next.

There was not a single inch of Dean's skin that was not connected to Cas, their skin grating against one another's. The friction between their bodies increased, the heat intensifying between the two of them--so intense, so profound, so strong, so, so freakin' powerful--it was pleasure and satisfaction so overwhelming that it was edging on being described as actual physical pain.

Oh, God, the pain…God, it hurt…so damn…effing good…

"I need you," Dean growled again, as his hands now enclosed around Cas' wrists and he pinned them against the bed, locking them in his own grip, as he shifted his weight, shoving himself further inside of Cas. "You understand me…you…sonofa…bitch, huh? I…need you. You're gonna stay with me. I will not…let you…leave me."

He grunted as he thrust himself further in and dragged his nails now down Cas' forearms and he now nibbled on Cas' earlobe, biting it actually a bit harder that he usually did to make his damn point. "You…stay…with me. Don't you dare…ever, ever leave me."

It took him a moment to find the courage to say the words, but once he did, they came out sounding filled with unspoken anger and resentment--not necessarily for Cas, but rather for everyone who has ever left him-- "I love you."

He waited for Cas' disgust and loathing to come, but it never did. Oh, Cas did come all right, but…he never really acknowledged Dean's words with much else.

Cas waited until Dean had collapsed against his back, struggling to catch his breath, freakin' wiped out from this whole ordeal, before saying, himself. "My turn, Dean."

That got Dean's attention, all right. He jumped up and tangled his fingers into Cas' slightly sweat-dampened hair, jerking his head up, and leaning down again to whisper roughly, "It is your turn…when I say…it is your turn. Is that understood?"

Cas didn't respond, so Dean took that as a yes, as he shifted his weight and turned Cas over, clenching Cas' body tightly in between his thighs as he leaned down and began smothering Cas' bare chest with his lips, teeth, tongue, breath, and anything else that his mouth possibly had to offer.

Cas raised his arms as if to shove Dean back, bending them at the elbow, but Dean's hands firmly gripped the inside of his elbows, his fists clenching tighter around Cas' arms, his nails digging deep into the skin, and his hands actually shaking with the effort it took for him to hold them as hard as he was.

Dean realized then that Cas' intentions were actually to wrap his arms around him, to pull him even closer, and decided this was even better. To finally be in control of everything himself, for once in his life. He tightened his hold on Cas' arms to restrain him further and growled, "No. Not yet."

Dean moved his lips to Cas', breathing the words, "Not yet," again against Cas' lips, before their lips met and his mouth now worked of its own will, willing itself to move with Cas', to taste and memorize the very existence of Cas' lips.

Their lips met again and again, moving in perfect synchronization with the other's, as if working together all their own. Dean and Cas did nothing; their lips did all the work all on their own, knowing exactly what to do and when to do it to make it feel just right at the best of times. A perfect song, their lips creating the most perfect of harmonies to complete and fulfill its mission.

Again and again. They kissed and kissed and kissed, both of them losing track of exactly how long they merely kissed for.

When Dean eventually did pull away, both of their lips were numb and slightly swollen from how long they had spent kissing. But, dear God was it so worth it!

Dean planned on making this every bit worth Cas' while as he possibly could. "You still don't believe me, Cas? Don't believe I need you? Don't believe I love you? Fine. Then, watch this…and tell me again that I do not need you in my damn life."

His hands traced down, soft and slow at first, to wrench Cas' legs apart, and lowering his mouth to in between Cas' legs, he surprised Cas by not taking him in just yet.

Instead he teased him, taunting him, by grazing it softly with his teeth, the tip of his tongue, only just allowing himself to taste it, nibbling and licking and tracing the length of it with the inside of his lower lip, inhaling deeply the scent of Cas' incoming orgasm, and exhaling shakily with his attempts to not give in just yet.

Cas shifted his weight, attempting to direct it towards Dean's mouth and shove it in, but Dean's hand slammed down onto Cas' chest, locking him in place as he continued this torment. "I…said…not…yet." He commanded, his voice harder than Cas had ever heard it.

Dean's other hand came up to replace his lips, encircling around Cas, massaging him while Dean's mouth made its way all around Cas' groin, reveling in this as he gave the same treatment to the skin surrounding it.

Dean absolutely loved the way Cas' skin would flare up into a million flames of fire anywhere Dean's hands or lips touched. As if Cas would burst into flames at any given moment with the softest feather-light brushing of Dean's fingers, or the intense hard-core workings of Dean's mouth, prepping both of them for what they knew would be the hottest of oral sex to ever be had, the very anticipation being what would make it the hottest ever.

When Dean finished with the teasing, his hand moved over to make room for his mouth and he lowered his head ever-so-f*cking slowly to really really tease the crap--or come, rather--out of Cas, his lips parting as if to take him in, but not actually doing so.

Instead, the tip of his tongue darted out and circled around the very end of it, memorizing the taste and texture of it, committing this moment to memory. His tongue slowly made its way up and down Cas repeatedly, his teeth also biting here and there, until Cas was nearly screaming with his combined frustration and ecstasy.

"Dean…" Cas called out, deliriously, finally making Dean decide he had suffered enough, and he took him in, no hesitation, as hard and fast as he could, his teeth biting into him as he sucked and sucked urgently, getting every last bit of Cas that was there to get, his tongue and teeth working against Cas' groin, making the greatest of possible effects on him and bringing out the best of possible reactions.

When Dean pulled away, and looked at Cas, signaling to him that now it was his turn, Cas shook his head. "No. Not…not here."

Dean's face twisted into a confused expression, as he struggled to make sense of Cas' words. "What are you--what do you mean, Cas? Where then?"

Cas used all of his strength--considering he was still recovering from his orgasms, very much plural--to roll them over, before taking Dean's face in the palm of his hand, and staring so intensely into his eyes, it was as if he was penetrating through Dean's very heart, his very soul, with a mere look. "Where you feel most at home, Dean. You need to go where you belong, where you have ever felt at home."

"Well, having sex with you kinda has that covered, Cas," Dean teased, but in the blink of an eye, he was suddenly in a different place. A different room. A different environment. A familiar environment. "Where the hell are we--" He cut himself off. He knew this place. He knew exactly where he was. The only place in the world that has ever felt like home to him.

His home. In Lawrence, Kansas.

Oh, God…

"Cas, where are we? What is this?"

"You know where we are, Dean. Your home. Your only home. The only home you have ever wanted. Play your cards right in this game, Dean, you can have this home back. Your family. Your mother and father. Your little brother. You can have your family back, Dean…all it takes is letting me go."

"Cas…" Dean took his face in his hands before saying, without any hesitation, without any reluctance, "I would not let you go for the world. I need you, Cas. Not Sam. I realize your intentions are--you mean well. But, if I wanted Sam, I'd've gotten him back by now. I don't want Sam in my life anymore, Cas. Only you." Oh, good God, Dean was suddenly very aware of the fact that his life was very much on the verge of becoming a freakin' chick flick. Oh, God…

"Dean--"

"I said no, Cas. Did I not make that clear before? Do I gotta do it again?"

"No, Dean, I understand perfectly. And, it means so much to me that you care so much, it does, but…I am not enough for you, Dean. I'm not. And, please, just let me prove to you why you need them. Let me show you that you will never be alone."

Dean didn't answer as Cas' lips came down on his and he suddenly dropped all pretenses as he was filled with the realization and sensation that he was having sex…with Castiel…in his house. He was home now. He was truly…home. Being with Cas, being in his house, being so filled with happiness and peace and serenity and total contentment…Dean was home. God, how he longed for that word as a kid. And, now that he had it…

Oh, God, he never knew such happiness, such strength existed…how could it when life was supposedly completely comprised of made up of crap?

Complete total happiness and peace and contentment of not only having sex with Cas, but having sex and being home gave him the sense that he wasn't alone. He never truly was. And, he never would be.

When all was said and done, and he lie helplessly with his head on Cas' chest for a long moment while he recovered, it took only minutes before he considered what had happened, what Cas had said, and he spoke, "We need to save Sammy."

Cas smiled, slightly, pleased with Dean's words. "Are you sure?"

Dean nodded, "Yes…but, we're not doing it your way, you hear me? We find another way. I need Sam. But, I need you too. I will not watch another person I love leave me; I can't. I will find a way to have you both, no matter what I have to give to get it. We can do this, Cas, without losing anybody. I know we can."

Cas knew they couldn't, but he wanted to give Dean the comfort and strength he needed right now, so…God help him…he lied. "I know we can," he repeated Dean's words. "We can."

Not, he added in his head, knowing that aside from the whole Dean giving into Michael thing, this was the only way he could save the world. And, Sam. And, most importantly, Dean. And, he knew that if this was what it took…then so be it.

How…the f*cking hell…Cas was able to get the Impala to Lawrence was beyond Dean, but he managed it somehow. Not that Dean should've been surprised, really, but Cas' ability to never stop surprising Dean was what appealed to Dean the most.

Now, they were driving together in silence, back towards Sam, but this time it was a comfortable silence. There was no need for words.

"Dean," Cas' soft, curious voice was the first to break the silence, making Dean start a little, before clearing his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Did you…mean what you…you know, what you said…before?" Cas wondered out loud, and Dean could've sworn he actually heard the angel gulp in anticipation. Yes, he freaking gulped. An actual angel of the Lord…gulped in anticipation. Something that went unheard of amongst most people.

Dean knew good and well exactly what Cas was referring to, but he played dumb. "Before what?"

"You know what I am talking about, Dean," Cas accused, daring to cast a glance in Dean's direction, "Did you mean it?"

Dean seriously considered it for a moment, to really decide whether or not he meant it. At the time, he had only said the words to convince Cas to stay with him. He was just so angry with him and knew that nothing else would get the man to stay with him, so he said what he knew he would want to hear. Or at least, what he thought Cas would want to hear. He said the words themselves, without thinking about it, without much meaning. He didn't exactly not mean them, but he didn't exactly mean them either.

God, he didn't know what he meant anymore. Dean had never in his life, ever told anyone he loved them.

For one, because his life was spent screwing random hot chicks of the streets who never meant anything more to him than his temporary sex fix for a couple of hours—or sometimes, an amazing long-ass week-end, but you'd have to an uber hot chick to make those qualifications with Dean.

On the other hand—the hand where he actually gave a damn about the person—he had told someone he loved them in his life. He told his mom that he loved her…and then she died. She abandoned him, leaving him in this crappy world, making him have to learn to live without her. And, he told his dad that he loved him…and then he died. John's whole life revolved around walking out that damn door again and again, leaving Dean and Sammy to fend for themselves in this crappy world, making them have to learn to live without him.

For that very reason, for that very fear, Dean had never even told Sammy he loved him. Yeah, he did love him, sure. Sam was his brother; of course he loved him. But, Dean was terrified to death to tell him that he loved him—not only because he'd give him crap for it—but, because he was scared that Sammy would leave him too. Everyone he has ever said those words to has left him, and Dean feared that if he told Sam that, that he'd leave him too. And, he couldn't handle that. He could not lose another person he loved. And, it seemed as if any time he admitted to loving someone, he lost them.

But…things were different with Cas. There were no words really to accurately describe how he felt about Cas. Was it "love" exactly; he wasn't too sure. He had never been in love, for one.

Yeah, he'd had deeper and longer connections with a chick here and a chick there, meaning that—aside from the longer sex—he didn't exactly ditch the girl the next morning, but rather gave her the privilege of having a day or two longer with him. But, none of those really amounted to love-love. It was just knowing a little more about the chick than he had about others.

But, with Cas…God, with Cas, his connection was just so damn deep and meaningful, so much more meaningful than he'd ever anticipated to have with another person before.

Castiel had pulled his soul…out of hell and saved him. He brought him back to life when no one else could. Not even Sammy could. That was quite powerful all in itself. And, they had worked side-by-side with one another quite often lately, having no one but the other to back them up. They had grown a lot closer in the past few months—and even closer in the past few days, but that was beyond the point, at the moment.

Dean…cared about Cas, you could say, but Dean also cared about Sam and his parents. That hardly qualified what he felt for Cas as love. Was it more than just meaningless sex; you could say that too. He knew it was…but…still did that mean…did he…

Did he really love Cas?

"What do you want me to say?" Dean finally said, after a long moment of silence. Physical silence, anyway; mentally, though, was chaos screaming its confusion at him, but he kept that confusion to himself.

"I want you to tell me the truth," Cas said, his voice more affectionate than Dean had ever heard it before, "I just want you to be honest with yourself, Dean. Don't spare my feelings, just be honest."

Dean choked on a laugh, "Oh, God, Cas, you really are becoming a woman, aren't you? Men don't give a freakin' crap about honesty, man, that's our specialty. We care about saying what needs to be said whether or not it's true just to get what it is we want. Come on, buddy, strap on a pair already, will you?"

"We already know I have a pair, Dean, considering how much you like f*cking it. That is not the issue here and you know it." Cas said, surprising Dean with how hard and commanding his voice was without even giving the command.

"Whoa, Cas, this is a very attractive color on you; I like it. Who would've thought you could be so hard-core, huh?" Cas' eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he struggled through trying to figure out a human concept. Dean had learned to recognize the expression by now, and he waited for the question to come that only a child would have to ask in the human world.

"I thought it was a hard-on, Dean," Cas said, his voice as dead serious as if he had just asked if 2+2 really was 4.

"Oh, God," Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes as shaking his head, in actual disbelief they were having this conversation. Never mind. Even a child would never be this oblivious. "Face-palm, face-palm, face-palm," Dean murmured to himself repeatedly, confusing Cas even more.

"What?" Cas asked, clearly not understanding what was going on, "What did I say?"

"Nothing," Dean said, now bursting out into laughter, waving his hand frantically towards Cas, to signal for him to not ask. Please, God, do not ask, he thought to himself. "Nothing, nothing…" he choked out, through his fits of laughter.

Cas waited for him to calm down before asking, "Is it because I said—"

"Oh, please, don't!" Dean insisted, holding his hand up now to stop Cas, as he still struggled to recover. "Please, just…do not…say it. Don't, I beg of you," Dean said, frantically, now wiping the tears forming in his eyes from how hard he was laughing.

Once he fully recovered, he let out a sigh, still chuckling softly, "God, that was great, man. Thanks, dude, I really needed a good laugh. See, that right there; that is why I love you." Dean spoke the words without even thinking about it, not even catching himself until it was too late and Cas called him on it.

"So, you do love me." Cas' features lightened up with those words, so much so that it killed Dean to have to contradict him. He didn't want to, but he couldn't lie to Cas either.

"No, I…I love…"—oh, God, Dean never would've thought he'd ever be having this conversation—"I love what you do to me. What you make me feel. I…you mean a lot to me, Cas, you do. You kinda have to, all things considered, but…I don't think…it's love just yet. I just love the release. It brings me peace that I never knew I could feel, Cas. And, it's because of you. For whatever the hell that's worth to you."

"You love…the release," Cas said, thoughtfully, "Is that the only reason you did it though? Was because I let you release yourself inside of me?"

Dean snorted, at Cas' bluntness, "No, I did that purely for my pleasure, Cas; that love just happens to be one of the perks. And, no that is not the particular release I was talking about."

"There's more than one?" Cas sounded appalled by that, like a person couldn't survive more than that one kind. Which to be honest, no one could, but still…his naïve lack of comprehension was quite amusing to Dean.

"Oh, yeah, millions of 'em actually," Dean played along, "We've got ourselves a lot of ground to cover here, Cas."

Cas didn't say anything for a long moment, clearly trying to analyze Dean's words. "Was that sarcasm, Dean?" His voice sounded almost accusing as he narrowed his eyes at Dean.

"Yes," Dean said, ending this argument with that one word, for all the power and authority it held, managing to make even an angel oblige to his implied will.

"Okay, then…" Cas said, shifting his weight slightly in an awkward position so that Dean actually did a double take to see just what the f*ck he was doing.

"Cas, what are you—" Dean cut himself off as he saw Cas' hand reaching for in between his legs. Oh, God… "Cas, no. Not now, man, I'm driving. You can't—"

But, Dean shut up immediately once Cas' hand groped him, closing around him just enough to tease him, but not enough to give him full-on pleasure just yet.

His hand worked to massage him through his jeans, not bothering to go into his jeans just yet to make the teasing that much more agonizing for Dean. His other hand slid into Dean's shirt, and began massaging his stomach, his fingernails digging deep into the skin, dragging up and down repeatedly until he noticed Dean's mouth fall open in ecstasy with merely this.

Then, as if deciding he had earned the full on ecstasy, the hand on Dean's jeans worked to undo them, and Dean's legs opened instinctively as he struggled to drive while Cas continued on. Oh, God, they were so gonna crash…

Cas' hand managed to open Dean's jeans enough and so that his hand could easily slide into Dean's boxers and he began stroking him at first, merely enjoying the feel of his hand against Dean, not even needing the full-on mode to feel the arousal stir in himself.

Dean's back arched in the seat and he grunted softly as he shifted his weight, pressing himself further into Cas' hand, and grinding himself against the seat so that he could press himself into Cas easier.

Cas' hand now wrapped completely around Dean, and he gave him a gentle squeeze at first before making his way up and down it, squeezing more harder and longer, until he finally began to sense Dean's reaction coming to the surface.

"Oh, God…" Dean stammered, his voice cracking slightly, as his hands tightened on the steering wheel and it took everything he had to remember how to keep the pressure of his foot on the gas pedal and keep the steering wheel straightened so that he would not veer off and kill himself. "Cas, we're going to—"

He made the mistake of looking down, to see Cas peering up at him, with a suggestive smirk, the look in his eyes penetrating Dean through to his very core—every single of those damn cores—as Cas began to slowly lower his head.

"God, Cas, no…not here…we're gonna…crash, we're gonna…we're gonna…" Dean's head slammed back against the headrest with enough force to actually cause him pain as Cas' head now slammed down onto Dean, and he immediately took him in, not giving his words any thought.

"You love me…for this?" Cas asked, turning his head to the side, the words still coming out muffled by Dean's groin, but comprehensible nonetheless. His teeth closed down on Dean to bite him, softly at first, teasingly, but then he bit him hard enough to make Dean's leg twitch as a strangled scream of ecstasy escaped his throat, and he came hard and fast into Cas' mouth.

"Mhmm…" was all Dean could choke out, which Cas took as a yes, as he drank him in deeper than ever before, savoring the taste and committing it and the very existence of it to his memory, wishing to God it never had to stop and he could just stay here with Dean and do this forever, forever.

Nonetheless, though, not satisfied with Dean's pitiful excuse for an answer, Cas dug his nails deeper into Dean's stomach, not enough to draw blood but definitely enough to jerk Dean out of his ecstasitic state.

Dean gave him a questioning look, even though Cas was still going down on him and couldn't see him. And, Cas managed to know that Dean was giving him that questioning look, because he opened his mouth a little wider and forced himself to stop sucking in order to speak. "I said…do…you…love me…Dean?"

"Yes," Dean gasped out, hoping that once he said yes that Cas would return to his activities.

He didn't though. Instead, he pulled away. What the—damn it, no! Dean's hands made to push Cas' head back down, but Cas caught hold of his hands and restrained him.

"Say the words, Dean. I want to hear you say the words." Cas commanded.

"I love you," Dean said, but Cas knew he was only saying it because he was told to. He didn't really mean them.

"No…" Cas accused, "You don't. I don't believe you. I want you… to mean the words." Cas ordered, his voice so hard that shivers went up and down Dean's spine.

"I can't…" Dean admitted, hating himself for doing so.

Without even having to look up, Cas warned, "You're about to hit a deer, Dean."

Frantically, Dean's head jerked up to see a deer sure enough, standing mere feet from his car and he swerved to avoid hitting the creature. Not that it was necessary, since the deer noticed the lights already and he ran off into the bushes and trees.

Dean sped past the bushes, his heartbeat speeding up erratically with his sudden anxiety and his breathing was even more ragged as his eyes now roamed around the area surrounding his car to be sure no other threats lie waiting.

Dean's shirt was suddenly open and he felt Cas' hand resting on his exposed chest, right over his now pounding heart.

"You were startled," Cas acknowledged, as if putting a word to something he himself had never known before, finally identifying something unknown.

Dean's eyes lowered to Cas' hand on his chest, and he felt Cas' other hand digging into his thigh, making him exhale shakily in response. "And, a little excited," he provided, with a small chuckle, as his hand now covered Cas' hand on his chest.

Cas' eyes raised to meet and hold Dean's before he said, "Pull over, Dean."

Dean immediately obliged, skidding to a stop off the side of the road before he reached for the lever to push his seat all the way back, and his legs jerked open, eagerly awaiting what Cas would do to him next.

But, Cas never did anything.

"Cas?" Dean called out, looking over at Cas.

"Do you love me?" Cas asked, his eyes locked on Dean, as he tried to decide whether or not he meant it or not.

"Yes," Dean lied again.

"Stop…lying, Dean."

"Well, why the hell do you keep asking if you know the damn answer's gonna be a freakin' lie then?" Dean demanded, frustrated with these damn games.

He got all horny and it came to nothin'. Yeah, he was literally coming to nothing, since Cas was not taking advantage of Dean's coming right now. He had never stopped and Cas was giving a damn vagina monologue as opposed to just sex-ing him up and taking advantage of him right here, right now.

"Because…I am determined to make it be true. I am going to make you love me, Dean."

"Yeah, how you gonna do that? You can't force love, Cas, so just take what you can get and stop being a girl, will you?"

"I don't have to force anything, Dean…I just have to help."

"Help what?"

"Help you realize…that you do. Help you mean it."

"What the hell does it matter if I meant it or not?" Dean argued, growing quite irritated with these damn games.

Cas didn't dignify that with an answer. Rather…he just leaned over and put his lips so close to Dean's ear that Dean could feel Cas' breath flowing, hot and fast, into his ear. "Do you love how that makes you feel, Dean?"

"Oh, God, yes," Dean gasped out, his eyes fluttering open and shut in delirious ecstasy.

Cas grabbed Dean's arm and slid his hand into Dean's sleeve, pushing it up to his elbow, before tracing the skin of Dean's forearm with his fingertips. "Do you love how that makes you feel…" It was no longer a question, it was an assumption.

"Yes," Dean moaned, his breath now a lot more forced as he tilted his head back took desperate gasps of air, struggling to maintain his oxygen supply.

"Yes?..." Cas challenged, "How 'bout this?" His index finger touched the hollow of Dean's throat before tracing a path of scorching fire right down the middle of Dean's chest until it reached his lower stomach, where it stopped.

"Yes, yes," Dean said, immediately, "God, yes, I love it. I love it all; I love it."

"You do," Cas agreed, "Tell me…what do you think of this?"

He crawled over so that he was now sitting on Dean's lap, his hands working freakin' wonders with Dean's groin while his hips bucked hard and fast against Dean's, and his eyes never leaving Dean's.

At one point, he bucked so hard against him that he actually grimaced with the effort it took to do so while Dean let out another strangled cry of ecstasy. Cas' hands were on Dean's hips now, his nails digging into the skin there, using that leverage to allow for harder more accurate bucking of the hips.

Cas wiped some of Dean's come off of his groin before trailing it up to splay it across his chest. Then, the tip of his tongue touched Dean's skin before dragging across it to lick it off. "Dean," Cas breathed against Dean's pec before tracing a circle around Dean's nipple with his tongue.

At that point, Dean couldn't take it anymore, so his hand clutched the side of Cas' neck desperately, dragging his head up to his own for a kiss, using his tongue to pull Cas' into his mouth for him, and sucking what was left of himself off of Cas' tongue, lips, and even using his tongue to lick anything that might've been left on Cas' teeth.

Cas jerked away, though, almost immediately, not allowing him to do that for very long. When Dean scowled at him, he touched a finger to Dean's lips before saying, "Do you love…how that makes you feel?"

"I do," Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper, but Cas knew it was the truth, "God knows I do. I'm not lying, Cas, I mean that."

Cas didn't acknowledge those words, but instead, kissed him deeply, his tongue slipping inside of Dean's mouth, searching desperately for contact with Dean's tongue, which met his almost immediately, in an effort to deepen the kiss.

Dean's hands fisted around the fabric of Cas' trench coat, dragging him even closer to himself, as he deepened the kiss, whimpering Cas' name desperately into his mouth, sighing and moaning in ecstasy any and every time he would come up for breath.

When Cas finally did pull away, he tilted his head down slightly to look into Dean's eyes, before saying, "And, that? Do you love how that makes you feel?"

"Yeah," was all Dean managed to choke out, since he was busy trying to recover from all these mixed emotions stirring within him.

"Yeah?...Good." Cas slowly made to untie his tie—the Tie of Sex, Dean had decided it should be renamed, pegging that as its nickname—and then he unbuttoned the first four buttons of his shirt, before grabbing Dean's hand and sliding it into his shirt.

He placed Dean's hand over his heart—or rather, his vessel's heart—and held his hand over Dean's, locking eyes with him for a long moment before speaking again.

"Do you love how that feels?" He asked, meaning the lack of the beating heart. "Would you prefer the heart to be beating or is it better like this?"

Dean didn't answer as Cas continued on, incapable of speech right now, still trying to make sense of the no-beating-heart thing. "Do you love it…like this?"

Dean forced a rigid nod, and Cas said, "Are you sure it's me you want or is it this vessel? Do you…love me…for me—for Castiel, newly fallen angel of the Lord—or is it this body you love?"

"It is better, Cas…when it is yours. I met the man this body used to belong to and felt nothing. I only feel these things…when it's you inside. I love how it feels; I love how it all feels…when it's yours."

Cas considered that, before looking Dean deeply in the eyes, giving him the softest, yet most tender and loving of kisses on the lips, before saying softly, "I love you, Dean. Whether or not I should, whether or not you love me back…I love you."

Dean simply stared at Cas, speechless for a long moment, not even really remembering how to say the words, yet alone actually mean them.

"Do you love me…for what I do to you and what I make you feel?...or do you love me for me? For who and what I am. What I really am."

Dean considered that for a moment, and really, really thought about it. He opened his mouth and said, "I love you for—"

But, Cas was gone. Disappeared. Vanished into thin air.

It took Dean forever to recover but once he did, he scoffed, "Oh, come on! Are you…freaking kidding me?! Dude, seriously! Now! Oh, God…"

Of all the times for Cas to just spontaneously take off like that…

Something was off. Even Cas was more decisive with his randomness; this wasn't like him. Something wasn't right.

Something was not right.

"Damn it, Cas…" Dean choked out, as he forced himself to put whatever clothes back on that had been removed, and he turned the car on and sped off. "Humiliating!" He muttered, bitterly, hoping Cas heard that, wherever the hell he had poof-ed that sexy ass of his off to.

"Damn it, Cas, answer your phone," Dean said, through clenched teeth, closing his phone for the millionth time, now getting a little worried, though he covered it up by putting on to be pissed.

Resting his forearm on the roof of the Impala, partly just to do it, but also to help support himself since he was having trouble standing—yeah, some of that was Cas' doing, but some of it was also worry building inside him—Dean looked around anxiously, searching for any sign as to where Cas would have gone to.

He looked behind him, towards the convenience store, where he had stopped to fill up on gas, and turned on his heel to go inside, not knowing what else to do. Damn it, without Cas, he had no idea how to go about this. Where to even begin to look for Sam. How to even begin to stop Lucifer. God, talk about a very real cul-de-freakin'-sac.

God…God. Hey, if Dean could find God, like Cas had been trying to, maybe He could lend a hand. Granted, Dean had smacked that hand away for most of his life, trusting no one but his own father and his brother, but still…If he could find that hand, he might be able to put it to use to his advantage. Plus, Dean was all for any solution that resulted in destroying Lucifer's pathetic ass and sending it back where it belonged.

Walking inside, Dean looked around immediately, almost as if hoping to find Cas somewhere in there. Unsurprisingly, he didn't, but still. Never stopped him before.

He walked along the aisles, searching for something—he didn't even know what he was searching for, but he searched nonetheless.

Stocking up on an endless supply of junk food, Dean made his way up to the cash register to "pay" for it all, walking past a chick who—just days ago—he would've thought to be pretty damn hot, and as he had come to expect her head turned to follow him.

He met her eyes, gave her a nod of acknowledgement, but made no further advancement. She wasn't unattractive by any means—and that suggestive smile she gave him as she slowly turned her head back around, swaying her hips in an exaggerated movement from side to side—certainly did not go unnoticed. But, it just no longer appealed to Dean anymore. He didn't want that. He didn't want her.

He wanted Cas. He wanted his angel. His angel.

God, Cas…he thought, where the hell are you?

"I think you dropped this," a woman said, and he turned around to see the hot chick, standing behind him, holding out a Hershey's bar that had fallen out of his arms.

He smirked, politely, but he went out of his way to make sure it wasn't seductive in any way. She wasn't Cas. She wasn't worthy of him, he realized. "Thanks." He took it from her, and stepped up to the front of the line.

He set all of his stuff on the counter and let out a sigh as he handed the man behind the counter "his" credit card, and the guy took it before beginning to scan the items.

Making Dean nearly fall over, in surprise, the hot chick stood beside him so that he could see her better, placed a hand on his shoulder, and said, with a smile, "You seem kind of lost," she noted, "Like you lost something that can't be found. You ever thought about looking for it by looking for God? Do you have God in your life?"

Oh, God. Dean gripped the counter tightly to ensure he didn't collapse. His last experience with these people was not so pleasant; he had wound up getting his ass back-the-freakin'-future'd down the road five years—as if his last time traveling experience wasn't painful enough—and he was found out by the freakin' angels of hell, he was quite sure. No way an angel working for God could be stabbing Him in the back by starting the freakin' end of the world.

Yeah, okay, this chick just lost all hotness and whatever appeal she could've had to Dean. Being a prude religious nut didn't exactly rate high on Dean's list of things desired in a chick—not that he wanted anyone besides Cas now anyway, but nonetheless—her ratings on the hotness factor just shot itself to beyond crap.

Dean waited for the man to put his stuff into bags, before taking the bags from him, and stepping out of the chick's reach, as politely as he could. He cleared his throat before saying, "No, I sure don't, um..Joan, but why don't you take that damn arc of yours and if you happen to find the man upstairs…let him know I'm looking for Him, will you? Tell Him I've got myself a hell of a bone to pick with Him. Plus, you know, might need assistance to save His planet, you know. Just a thought, might wanna look into it."

The chick looked confused, as Dean turned and walked away, without another word. But, rather than follow him out, she turned around to begin hassling another customer.

He got in the car and started the ignition before unwrapping a Snickers bar and taking a bite out of it, eating half the bar in one bite. Caramel stuck to his bottom lip and chin and he used his tongue to lick it off, trying not to think about how he so wished that Cas would've been here to do that for him.

He shoved the rest of the bar into his mouth, throwing the wrapper into his backseat, where he saw…

It.

The tie. Oh, God. Cas' tie.

The Tie of Sex.

Dean stifled a moan as he reached back and picked it up. He held it in his slightly trembling hands, choking out a strained, "Oh, God…" as he ran the fabric through his fingers several times, fascinated by it, weird and sick and wrong as that might seem.

"Oh…my…God, Cas…you really are trying to kill me, aren't you?" Dean's words were muffled, since he was still chewing the Snickers bar.

His phone rang suddenly, startling him out of his daze. The caller ID said: Cas. Sure enough. Oh, thank God! Finally!

He flipped his phone open before saying, hurriedly, around the Snickers bar, "You know, a dude's not really down with the whole giving of the best blow job in his fucking life only to take off in the middle of it. Son of a bitch, where'd you go?"

No answer.

"Cas?"

"Hello, Dean," came the familiar voice of his brother. Familiar, but not familiar. Sam, but not Sam. Not Sam. Lucifer. Lucifer. Oh, God…

Dean froze up. He didn't speak. He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do?

"Stunned speechless, I see, a true honor coming from you, Dean." The voice said, smug and knowingly. Knowing that he had bested Dean and he had won.

"Where's Cas?" Dean eventually choked out, not gracing the son of a bitch with a response.

"Ah, Castiel…" the voice sounded thoughtful, as if contemplating something. "Well…let's just say…he's alive. I doubt you want to know the current state of his well-being, if that's what you are asking. All things considered…"

"You," Dean said, that one word dripping with venom and hatred, "You have Cas. What did you do to him? Where the hell is he?"

"You should know where he is…Dean," the voice said, accusingly, tauntingly, "You should be able to…feel your way towards him, should you not?"

Dean's hands slammed the steering wheel in his anger, as he nearly yelled, "Where is he?"

No answer.

"Where is he?" Dean repeated, his voice harder with his rage.

"I swear to God if you hurt him, I'll—"

"Let's…skip the exchanging insults and empty threats and cut right to the chase, shall we?" The voice taunted, "We both know that you haven't the power…to do anything to me, Dean. You won't give in to Michael, you can't find God, and you are nothing…Dean. You…are nothing more than a mere mortal. A pathetic, worthless human being whose greatest powers in life is that of seduction and lies and death. What else are you good for, Dean?"

"I'm strong," Dean said, in a small voice, knowing that he was right, but also remembering what Cas told him. Maybe if he said the words enough times, they'd become true. "I might not have…all the mojo crap you've got going for you. Michael is in no way getting inside of me; this is my body and I fully intend on keeping it that way."

"Right…only Castiel is worthy of that deed, is that correct? The only one deemed good enough to be in you now." The voice taunted, "Now and forever more…"

"You listen to me, you disgusting…loathsome…son of a bitch…" Dean said, his voice darker and more dangerous than he had ever heard it, even when he had been torturing those innocent souls in hell, "I might not have any methods, any powers, or any chance of winning this. But, you mark my words…I will hunt you down and I will kill you. You understand me? I will watch the very light leave your eyes, watch you cease to exist…and any pain you put Cas through is nothing, nothing…compared to the pain I will put you through.

"I will hunt down the Colt, I will hunt down God, I will not stop…until you are in the ground. Until you are dead…by my hand. Either way…I will kill you."

"Empty," the voice muttered, as if to itself, "Such empty, empty threats. It is so devastating to me…you cannot kill me, Dean. You couldn't kill me, you won't. Not while Sammy is still my vessel."

Oh, God, Sammy…

Dean had completely forgotten…he had been so focused on finding and saving Cas, that Sam had just…

"You kill me…you kill your little brother, Dean. Is that really a responsibility you are willing to take upon yourself? You really think yourself capable of destroying your brother?"

God, no. No, this could not be happening. Yeah, Dean was pissed at Sam, but he didn't want him to freakin' die. And, he sure as hell didn't want to be the one to pull the damn trigger.

"If I have to," Dean choked out, trying to hide the fact that it killed him to merely say the words, let alone actually have to do them.

The voice spoke again. Smug and arrogant as ever. Joyful and triumphant in the subtlest of ways… "You lie, Dean. Your words and your mind speak very different things… I know you better than you realize. You are not capable…of killing your brother. And, I should know, since I am responsible for creating every last one of those capabilities within you. That…is not one of them, Dean. Not for you."

When Dean didn't speak again, that taunting voice did, "Haven't you realized it yet, Dean? I've won. I have Sammy. I have Cas. And, sooner or later…I will have you, too."

"Don't…call them…that," Dean said, through clenched teeth, angrily—no, pissed-offedly— "They are not…yours to have, do you understand me? Sammy is my brother. You cannot have him, you'll have to kill me first. And, Cas is my…"

"Your what?" The voice challenged, knowing that even Dean did not have the answer to that question, "What; your way to easy relief from your problems? A way to leave your troubles behind? You really think that's going to be enough for him in the end? You really think he will settle…for being nothing more to you than your…easy sex? Someone who you can…manipulate and use until you're done with him? Until it's all better? Cas is nothing more to you than a meaningless convenience…and you know it." The voice accused, pissing Dean off all the more.

"Castiel…is mine." Dean said, the word sounding so much true that he actually anticipated it to, "Everything about him…is mine. He is my angel, my salvation. And, if you do hurt him, I'll—"

At that point, it wasn't the voice that answered Dean. It was the distorted, strained voice, of Cas. "No, Dean, don't…please don't do anything. Stay away…he'll kill you. Do not come…don't—" He broke off into a fit of screams of agony, the sound of his screams cutting into Dean as if that was him being tortured and hurt.

"No!" Dean yelled, hearing the sound of fabric tearing and the sound of a blade being stabbed into flesh, making a sickening squelching sound, as Cas' screams grew even louder and more painful.

"Dean, no!...No…" Cas tried to gasp out, but his voice was now drowned out by the other voice.

"That get my point across or do you need a souvenir, say his arm…or his head…I am just starting, Dean."

"What the hell do you want from me?" Dean demanded, none of the hatred leaving his voice, but his urgency growing.

"Why, Dean, I should think that would be obvious…I want you…to come to me. I want you to watch as I kill your angel…" he spat the word, "…and as I take over your brother. Say good-bye to Sam, Dean. He no longer exists. He truly is dead. He's gone. You will never…see him again."

"Where…the hell…are you?" Dean demanded again, careful not to say anything that would piss him off too bad or he'd kill them anyway.

"Barn, Dean. Come…to the barn. You know…which one I am talking about, yes?"

"Yeah," Dean agreed, his voice shaking with his anger, "I'll come…so I can kill you." Dean warned, wanting him to know that nothing would stop him from putting an end to all of this, no matter what it took.

"No…you won't, Dean. You can't." The voice reminded him, "You cannot win this…it's over, Dean."

"Oh, I can and I will…win, you son of a bitch," Dean said, his own voice growing quite cocky, "Perhaps you have won the battle…but, I will win the war, understand? This is not over…until one or the other of us is dead. And, I will make damn certain that that one will be you."

"You can try," The voice conceded, "You can try…and you will fail."

"Yeah?..." Dean challenged, "Just…try me." He spoke the words, through clenched teeth, before snapping his phone shut, wrapping the tie around his hand—as he had done before, to gain strength and courage from it—gripping the steering wheel tightly, and speeding off to Pontiac, Illinois.

Pontiac, Illinois…

Where his life both began and where it would undoubtedly end. Where he both began and ended. Where his angel and his brother awaited him to come and save them.

Anything and everything would he give to save them from this. No matter what it took, he'd kill Lucifer and find some way to keep his brother and Cas, too.

Pontiac, Illinois, he told himself, more determined and stronger than he had ever felt in his life.

Castiel was thrown back a good 30, 40 feet—his body breaking through several pillars before finally colliding with the farthest wall. The impact of the collision nearly broke through even that wall, but it had barely been enough to stop him. Weak and damaged as he was by now, he didn't have the strength to get back up or to fight back anymore.

His body collapsed, falling to the ground in a big heap of misery and agony, cringing in pain and stifling even more screams.

He tried to avert his eyes, burying his face miserably in his forearm, desperate to escape this torment, when Lucifer was suddenly hovering over him, and bent down to roughly grab his face, forcing him to look into his eyes.

To look into Sam's eyes.

It was Sam's features he was met with—Sam's dark hair, Sam's hazel eyes, Sam's face—only…it very much was not…Sam.

His face was distorted into one of pure evil. It was not filled with loathing or did not even really resemble evil, when really looked at, but that just made it all the more evil.

Sam's 6'4" frame bent down even further to pick Castiel up by his trench coat, without any effort, and he jerked him up to hold him mere inches from his face.

Castiel cringed away, refusing to meet his eyes, not wanting to see Sam like this. This was not Sam. It was not…Sam. This was Lucifer. And, Cas did not ever want to remember Sam in this form, ever. He wanted to remember him as Sam. As Sammy. Dean's little brother.

Dean's little brother who he had to protect with all he had. He could not allow Lucifer to have him. Ever. He had to protect Sam and, most importantly, he had to, had to, had to protect Dean. And, protecting Sam…protected Dean.

"You…are gonna be sorry…you did that," Cas gasped out, referring to the phone call to Dean. He had to find some way to keep Dean away, he could not let him come storming in violently to rip Lucifer to shreds…when he knew he'd only be meeting his death.

"You think so," Sam's voice was soft, yet so cruel it was unrecognizable. God, this was not Sam.

"I know so," Cas managed to make his voice assertive even in his weakened state.

"Do you?" Sam's head shook, almost as if he was seriously considering something, looking to be deep in thought. "Well…let me tell you…what I know."

"What do you—"

Cas cut himself off, as he was no longer there. He was…somewhere he didn't recognize. He had been all over this earth in his efforts to keep track of Dean, yet he still had no recognition of this particular place.

The person however…he did recognize. The person he would always, always recognize no matter where he was, how his appearances may have changed…because it was not his appearances he would forever recognize—beautiful as those might be…it was his soul. The one and only soul that Cas had ever grown to not only love in his thousands upon thousands of years but the one and only soul that Cas had ever grown to need.

It was Dean.

Dean.

He looked happy. Oh, thank God. Dean was happy. He was happier than he had ever been in his life. His soul was practically soaring with how happy he was, which was something that hardly ever happened in his life.

Cas' very own soul—that is, if he even had one (he wasn't too sure how that worked with angels)—began to sing with his own utter joy and happiness at Dean's utter satisfaction. God, he had never felt so content in all his life.

"Dean, thank God you're okay," Cas began, his voice closer to enthusiastic than it had ever been, "Where the hell are we—"

Dean ignored him.

Dean didn't answer him, he didn't look at him; it was as if he had never…existed.

Oh, God…

"Dean?..." Cas spoke his name uncertainly, not understanding what was going on. "Dean," he said again, his voice even harder, as he now approached Dean, who was now looking right at him.

Only he wasn't. He was looking through him. Past him to see the person standing behind him. It was as if Cas was not standing right there in his face.

Cas turned around to see…Sam.

Very much himself, very much human, very much fine and well…Sam. Dean's brother. Oh, God, how was this—

Sam was laughing at something that Dean had said, and it wasn't long before Dean joined in the laughter, both of them just so comfortable and easy with one another. It was like it had been before Dean had gone to hell, back when they were closer than they had ever been before.

Cas couldn't help but smile slightly at this, despite his confusion. He didn't know how this was possible or how they were back the way they were and quite frankly he didn't give the slightest damn how. It was. That was all he needed to know.

"Sam," Cas spoke his name almost as if in a trance, trapped in the wonder of how this could be possible, his gaze fixed on Sam, the smile twitching at the corners of his lips threatening very much to break out into a full-on smile. "You're all right."

Again, though, Sam ignored him, just as Dean had, both looking right past him to one another as if there was no one else—nothing else—in the world but them.

Cas looked between the two of them, looking for answers as to why this was happening, wondering what was going on with them. While he was all for them reconciling and fixing their relationship, he wasn't all that keen on being left out of their posse anymore. Considering all he'd given and done for them, he certainly did not deserve to be treated like this.

"God, man, I forgot how this felt," Dean said, in between laughs, "How great it is to just have my little brother and not a care in the world."

"Yeah, like we ever didn't have a care in the world, Dean," Sam reminded him, still chuckling softly himself.

"Well, we don't anymore." Dean said, clapping his shoulder several times, before walking towards him.

Walking…towards Sam…through Cas. Oh. God…not good.

Cas looked down to where Dean had stepped right…through him…and he felt hollow. It was as if Dean had taken a piece of Cas with himself with that mere movement. As if everything that was Cas was gone…taken away from him…by Dean.

No.

No, this wasn't real. This could not be real. This couldn't—

"Not since we don't have Cas anymore." Dean said, the words hitting Cas worse than any of the blows Lucifer could've landed on him. This just felt as if he had the wind knocked out of him, ripping him apart to millions of pieces.

God, that hurt. It hurt…

"Dean," Cas said, a pained grimace slightly distorting his features, as he made to place a hand on Dean's shoulder. But, when his hand made contact with Dean's shoulder…

He felt nothing.

Dean was certainly there, but…he wasn't…there…

He was there…but, he was nothing.

Sam and Dean continued on talking, as if there was no one else but them. Cas was indeed gone for them and it was…as if…nothing was wrong. Dean had moved on like nothing had happened between them. With Sam back, it was as if Cas was never in their lives at all, as if he hadn't given everything he had for their sakes.

"Yeah," Sam said, with another slight chuckle, "Either way, Dean, I'm just glad to have my brother back, you know? Our lives have never been perfect; in fact, quite the contrary, they've been total crap from day one, but…at least I know I can hack it with you around, you know? God knows it's not easy, but…it is do-able anyway."

Dean chuckled softly too. "Yeah, I feel you, my brother." He clapped him on the back again, before grabbing him by the arms and shaking him slightly to make his point.

WHAT?!

Cas nearly collapsed from that. Wasn't that supposed to be…wrong or something? Cas thought that he was the only one Dean wanted to feel ever since the sex between them had begun, anyway. Why on earth would he want to have sex with his brother…to compensate for that loss? Dean should not be considering Sam do-able by any means, should he?

"Dean!" Cas' voice was even harder as he pleaded for some miracle that would allow Dean to hear him.

"And, Cas?" Sam challenged Dean, "I mean, I know his loss couldn't have been easy on you, Dean."

What the hell; his loss—what the hell were they talking about; he was right there.

Dean shrugged, carelessly, "Eh…I've handled worse than that."

Ouch. Another blow. And, not the good kind, either.

"Worse…Dean?" Sam said, sounding like he didn't believe him, "The man pulled you out of hell…despite what you wanted him to believe, I know he meant something to you. After all, he saved our asses constantly when everyone else was just lining up to kick 'em."

"The man…meant nothing to me, Sammy." Dean's voice was not quite cold, but there was something quite inhuman about it.

And, whether or not this was real or Dean meant it, it still hurt Cas like a f*cking bitch. He'd been put through a lot of crap during his rebellion against heaven to help the Winchesters, but nothing, nothing…they put him through could ever have hurt him as bad as this did.

"He was just my ride out of the pit, nothing more." Even Dean could not lie this good. Did he…did he mean it? "Already got myself a bitch, Sam, I ain't in the market for any more." He clapped him playfully on the back, with a slight smirk.

"So, what; after everything he gave for you—"

"Everything, nothing, Sam." Dean contradicted, "He didn't give it for me."

"No!" Cas yelled, even though it was useless since Dean couldn't hear him.

"He gave it for the greater good." Dean clarified, his voice still sounding colder than usual.

"Yeah, the greater good of you, Dean. Think about it: thousands of years of living and you're the one that makes him break. That's gotta mean something."

"Lucifer wasn't walkin' the earth those other thousands of years. He had no reason to break."

"I don't believe that," Sam contradicted, giving Cas a hopeful glint in his eyes, as he stepped forward in anticipation.

"Yeah, but you believe a lot of weird crap that's not true, Sam," Dean teased, "What makes this any different?"

"Because, Dean…it didn't take an idiot to know that you were the reason Cas did half the things he did. The man freakin' idolized you. He fell because you inspired him to. No matter what game face he put on…it didn't take Stanford education to see right past it; the guy was pretty damn obvious about it."

Dean shrugged, "Yeah, well…like I'd really notice anyway. Too busy keeping your ass in line, Sammy. Cas could've hated me, he could've liked me; I don't give a crap. You're all I've ever really been able to care about, Sam. You're my brother. Family comes first, right? Especially before pain-in-the-ass angels who are smiting town-after-town one day and then suckin' up and trying to be your freakin' BFF the next."

"So, you don't…care?"

"About what?"

"He saved you from hell, Dean," Sam's voice was slightly appalled, "Ungrateful as you might be at times, even you've got to be thankful for that. He saved you when I couldn't."

"He saved me…because it was his job. You wanted to save me cause I'm your brother. I was nothing more to him than an order to accomplish. Great. He did his job, he died to save the world and us, and he pulled Lucifer out of you by sacrificing himself, and now…voila. Here we be."

"That's kinda my point," Sam said, with another nervous chuckle.

"And, this is my point," Dean said, gesturing around himself, "World's still here. We're still here. I'm happy. Cas is dead. Suck-ish, yeah, sure, but necessary. Better him than you, I say."

"Dean—" Sam chastised, tilting his head down to look into Dean's eyes better, trying to see a hidden truth in them.

"Dean—" Cas said, in a soft voice, his voice very strained with the emotion he tried to keep held back, as he too lowered his head to look into Dean's eyes better, trying to see a hidden truth in them.

"What?" Dean threw his hands dramatically into the air. "What do you want from me?"

"The truth," Sam suggested, with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"You want the truth," Dean said, taking a step towards him, a strange look on his face. A look that Cas recognized quite well.

Oh, God…

Oh, no, he wouldn't…

Would he…

Cas almost felt the urge to run and hide, seeing what was coming before it actually came, but he stood there frozen in his horror and shock as…

Dean grabbed Sam's face in between his hands and pressed an urgent, frustrated kiss on his brother's lips.

Cas' mouth fell open in shock and he doubled over, feeling like he was going to throw up, as his hands flew up to his mouth and he staggered slightly. "Oh, God…" the words came out muffled by his hands.

And, to make matters worse, instead of pulling away immediately—as Cas had expected Sam to do—Sam merely deepened the kiss, his hands working their way up and around to Dean's shoulders, pulling him even closer and practically digging into the flesh, despite all the layers of clothing that Dean was still wearing.

No! No, this could not be happening. This. Could. Not. Be. Happening.

Confirming Cas' disgust and fear, Dean's fingers tangled passionately with Sam's hair, individual strands of hair winding themselves around Dean's fingers, which tightened and loosened several times, taking the time to feel the silk-like strands and commit them to memory, while searching still for a way to be even closer to his brother.

As if this was not beyond close enough.

Without breaking the kiss, Dean's hands fumbled to slide in between their bodies, since there was no space at all in between the two of them, and worked their way up to slide off Sam's jacket. To undo the buttons of his shirt and slide that off as well to join his jacket on the floor.

His fists clenched the fabric of Sam's t-shirt frantically, almost as if prepared to rip it off, as he jerked it up, exposing the perfectly sculpted chest, which was heaving with each breath he tried vainly to take.

The shirt joined the rapidly growing pile of clothes on the floor as Dean's hands now ran across that bare skin, lightly caressing to clenching passionately, his fingertips and the palms of his hands tracing every last contour of Sam's chest, every dip, every curve, the tiniest of distinctions…

Their kissing grew more and more intense, hotter and hotter, deeper and deeper, their lips and tongues working in the most perfect of synchronization with one another, coming to them as naturally as breathing oxygen.

Cas backed himself into a corner, frozen in his disgusted horror. He didn't want to see this, but he could not tear his eyes away for the world.

"No…no…no…no…" he repeated the one word deliriously, over and over again, hoping and praying to God that if he said it enough times, it would be true and this wouldn't be happening.

It never worked.

He watched with total revulsion as more and more clothes disappeared and limbs tangled together, bodies collided together, lips and hands were everywhere all at once, as if taking actual possession of the other with this mere act.

Dean was Sam's.

Sam was Dean's.

They were one and the same.

Suddenly, as if mocking Cas, they were on a bed having the most epic of sex as their cries and screams of ecstasy would suggest…

Dean was on top—to be expected, when you think about it—and he pulled away from a kiss to stare into his brother's eyes, the look in his eyes suggesting something beyond love, something beyond affection.

Dean was wearing…his necklace. The necklace. The one that Sam had given him when they were kids. It was drenched in sweat, and the charm itself was hanging down mere inches from Sam's face.

Sam fingered that charm, the look on his face very much mirroring Dean's, as his fingers enclosed around it and he tugged Dean down even closer by that necklace, his fingers now clutching it desperately as his lips met Dean's and his back arched to be that much closer to Dean.

Sweat formed on Dean's back, glistening when the light hit it and really accenting the contours of his muscles as he would shift his weight again and again and again against his brother, who reciprocated with the very same movements and sounds.

The palms of Sam's hands traced up Dean's back as a bead of sweat trickled its way down his skin, stopping when it landed on the side of Sam's hand, which then traced up to wipe off any other beads that were now coating Dean's skin, Sam's nails alternately digging into his back and running across the skin again and again.

It was not long before Sam had had enough of this and he rolled them over so that he was now on top. His hair was drenched in sweat—to be expected since he had so damn much of it—and at one point, a bead of sweat dripped off his hair, landing on Dean's throat.

Sam pulled away from another freakin' hard-core intense kiss with a freakin' hard-core intense smirk on his face as his head lowered and the tip of his tongue touched the skin of Dean's throat, teasing and soft at first. Sam dragged it along the skin, licking off that bead of sweat before shoving his tongue into Dean's mouth, searching desperately for Dean's tongue, which indeed met his and then they freakin' went at it, playing the best game of tonsil hockey to ever be played in the history of, like, ever…

Again and again, their hands and lips explored each inch of the other's body…

God, it never ended…

God, it never…ended…

Their moans, their sighs, their whimpers, their screams filled the room, ringing in Cas' ears, taunting him, putting him through a hell worse than no other.

Without warning, all of a sudden, Dean flipped them over so that Sam now laid at the foot of the bed and he was on top once again.

Dean kissed Sam one more time before tracing his tongue in a perfect line down Sam's chin, his throat, his chest, his stomach—which immediately tightened in response, as a whimper escaped Sam's lips—and Dean didn't stop until he had reached the very lowest part of Sam's stomach.

No longer able to wait, Sam shifted so that his legs were pressed tightly against Dean's chest and he slid himself upward, wrapping both arms around Dean's neck and immediately slamming Dean's head down onto him…

NO!!!

"NO!!!" Cas let out a scream, now trembling so hard that he was nearly convulsing, and he tried desperately to squeeze his eyes tightly shut, but something, some force was stopping him, forcing him to keep them open and watch this.

Forcing him to watch as Dean took his brother in deeply without complaint, and his hands clenched into fists around the actual skin around Sam, his hands straining to do so with the effort he was using.

It wasn't long before Sam released himself hard and fast into Dean's mouth and Dean more than willingly swallowed it, whimpering and moaning himself as he would tighten his mouth around him and suck even harder and more urgently, as if his very existence depended on this very moment in his life.

Giving Sam the best…best…best ever of blow jobs in his life, Dean eventually pulled back up. It had been so amazing and so long though that Sam hurt like hell from it, but in the best of ways.

Dean noted that Sam actually had several bite marks and even a bruise or two from where he had gotten a little carried away, and even though Sam had screamed out of pain those times, no way in hell did he ever let Dean stop what he was doing for the world.

"Sorry about that," Dean panted, softly stroking a certain bruise making Sam flare up again, as his eyes rolled into the back of his head out of ecstasy from that mere contact and he said, "God, go. Go, turn over. Do it, do it now."

Dean didn't even have time to ask what he was talking about before Sam had slammed him over onto his stomach for him and was thrusting himself so hard inside of him that Dean let out an actual scream of agony.

Yet neither of them stopped or had the capability to even worry about it just now.

Dean's fists balled up around the bed sheets, shaking with the effort it took him to hold it, as he slammed his head against the board at the foot of the bed to have something to distract himself with from the utter ecstasy he was suffocating in. Yeah, didn't work at all.

Sam's hands clutched hard at Dean's shoulders as he thrust himself upward further and further again and again, before his hands traced down Dean's waist and around to in between Dean's legs.

"Oh, God, Sammy…oh, no…no, you couldn't possibly—GOD!"

Apparently, he could possibly. Because as he released himself into Dean, his hands worked magic of their own on Dean's other self, and it wasn't long at all before Dean was coming all over Sam's hands, which were not enough to hold it, so it dripped off his hands, drenching the bed sheets.

"God, Sammy…oh, Sammy…" he cried out, his eyes jerking open, since he forced them open as a sign of protest and he fixed his gaze on the wall…

At Cas…

Yet, he wasn't staring at the wall…

He was staring…

At. Cas.

The cruel smirk playing on his lips told Cas that he knew very well that he was there and he just didn't care.

Tears barely began to form in Cas' eyes as his gaze were focused on Dean and Sam. He wouldn't let them fall, but that didn't make them any less there.

"Dean…" Cas mouthed, but he couldn't bring himself to actually say the word.

Knowingly, Dean's smirk grew as his head tilted back, his mouth falling even further open, and a scream escaping the back of his throat, his eyes sliding shut in his utter ecstasitic state.

"SAM!" He cried out, knowing that that made it even worse for Cas, "Sammy, my Sammy…"

Sam buried himself even deeper inside of Dean, calling out his name even louder as he buried his face in Dean's shoulder, biting him softly at first, but then hard enough to draw blood before again dragging his tongue along the skin the lick it off before moving his lips against Dean's skin.

Softly at first…then harder…more urgently…God, they were both so much on fire that they'd be very likely to burst into flames at any given moment…

"I love you," Sam growled the words into his brother's ear, which was immediately answered with a very much strained but also very much coherent:

"I…love…you."

And, those words, on top of everything else, was what killed Cas. Made everything, everything inside of him just die.

Without warning, Cas was suddenly being swarmed by visions and memories of Dean and all the times he had ever had sex with every woman he had been with, combined with this event. It swarmed and swarmed him until it completely consumed him and there was absolutely nothing left…

Nothing…

Castiel…ceased to exist completely…

Absolutely…nothing…left…

When Castiel finally came back to himself, he saw Sam standing before him. No…not Sam. Lucifer. He flinched slightly at the sight, before Sam's lips twisted into a taunting smirk, "You enjoy the show?"

"I've seen better," Cas growled, more assertive than ever, as he realized something. "Is that…true though?"

"No, I have not had sex with my brother, if that's what you are asking…or rather, Sam hasn't…anyway?"

Cas grimaced, flinching slightly again, struggling to hide how much that hurt. "No, not that. The other part. The part where…if I die, then they…"

Sam nodded, "If you…give yourself to me, Castiel…then, yes. That will give me enough to satisfy me, if you will, in a totally nonsexual sense, of course. I will leave Sam, he and Dean are free to reconcile and learn to become BFFs once again, and voila. All is well with the world."

"You're lying," Cas accused, knowing that no way in hell would it be that easy, considering how long he had waited to break free of hell.

"Yes, you're right. I am lying. I will not leave Sam; Sam is my key to staying on earth. I ditch him, I go back to hell; I am not willing to risk that, you understand? But…here's the deal…you hand yourself to me so I can use your mojo to cloak myself from the other angels…and…Michael will be unable to defeat me. You do that for me…and I allow Dean to live. I do not kill him like I will every other worthless human on this planet.

"Try as he might…you know that Dean cannot kill me…without giving himself to Michael. Which God knows he will never do in a million years. He can't kill his brother either because he cares too much for him. So, you…come to me willingly—Dean lives. You don't…you both die. And, Sammy's responsible for the destruction of humanity. Completely…responsible…for the destruction…of humanity."

Cas glared at him, venom and hatred shooting out of his eyes like daggers of fire, as he struggled to not tremble in his anger. He couldn't win. Not now, not ever. Not by himself. Not even with Dean, and especially not with Sam in his current condition.

He lost.

They lost.

Dean…lost.

No. No!

No, Dean did not lose. Dean would not lose…because Cas…would not let him lose.

If Cas did this, if he gave himself over, then Dean would not lose, because Dean would live. There was no greater victory than that, admittedly, selfish as it may be.

Gripping him tightly from the side of his neck and walking him forcefully into the nearest wall, Cas got right in his face and snarled, "If you…are even…lying to me—"

"I'll have…what I want…what would I possibly have to gain from lying to you?" Sam's voice came out strangled, but it showed no concern for his current position.

"Nothing. That's just who you are, though; what you are. You are the very epitome of deception. You lie whether or not it benefits you. Whether or not you have anything to gain from it. It's just kind of your specialty."

"Yes…but in this case…even if—God forbid—" he spoke the words mockingly, "—I am…lying…at least you benefit from the lie as well, do you not? This lie benefits both of us."

"You will not…lie, do you hear me? You will make damn sure to keep Dean Winchester alive and well, do you hear me? Dean Winchester does not die. He dies…the deal is off. I do not stop until you are dead. I will summon Michael myself if I have to and you know I have the power to do it."

"Yes…consider it…perfectly understood. Dean Winchester lives…when all is said and done, even with me in Sam's body and mind, I doubt he'd ever be capable of taking out his brother. He'd find a way to stop me himself. He said yes to me, he didn't say yes to killing his brother. Even I have my limits on how far I can push him, he is quite stubborn."

Castiel flinched, "He…said yes…to you."

"Well, yes, you are an angel; you know how the process works." The voice taunted him, ask if questioning his mental competence.

"Why?" Castiel said, sounding distant, as if asking the general room as opposed to anyone in specific.

"He didn't know what else to do. When you lose everyone you love, everyone you've ever had in your life…it's only to easy to let the devil into your heart. I happen to bring about a way that just makes all the pain go away."

"No…you bring on the pain." Cas contradicted, "You are pain, you cannot relieve it."

"No…but I can make it seem like I can relieve it. Even for the smallest of moments, the smallest of ways…I can make that pain…disappear."

Disgust and loathing filled Cas' features as he held Sam's eyes—Lucifer's eyes—and he had to force himself to not shudder, as he did.

"If you…do not make good on your promise…I will find a way to make you feel nothing but pain. Pain so excruciating it'll make hell seem like a scrape on a knee to you. You…will…not touch Dean."

"No, promise. Not in any sense."

Cas thrust his forearm hard into Sam's chest, actually making him cringe and gasp in pain.

"Promise, Dean remains untouched. So long as you make good on your end of the deal. And, um…there is just one more little…stipulation, if you will. I need that necklace of yours."

Cas actually staggered back in horror. "No. It's not mine."

"You're right, it's not. And, I truly hate to take it from its true owner, but…life is all about doing things we don't like to do, is it not? If all goes well, it will be returned in good time, but until then, I need it to ensure you are not planning on stabbing me in the back."

"I'm not," Cas contradicted.

"I don't believe you," Sam challenged.

"Yeah, well you wouldn't. Too bad. Believe this then, you son of a bitch, and if you betray me, I will have your head as my very own souvenir."

Like that, without another word, Cas took his face roughly in his hands, making sure to slam his head against the wall, before growling the words, bitterly, "I'm yours," and crushing his lips angrily, yet somewhat eagerly to Sam's lips.

To Lucifer's…

Making the deal to save Dean, save the world, and most importantly save Sam. All he had to do now was throw Dean off his game so he wouldn't come looking for him.

He started by sending Dean into a state where he would lose sight of where he was and lose perception of where the barn was. It would seem as if the barn had moved and kept moving, or Dean kept going in circles, either one.

Either way, he was keeping Dean the hell away from this barn. He came, he died. And, Cas would never allow that to happen for the world.

So as his lips moved bitterly against Sam's, the kiss deepening even more as if that would somehow make the contract even more certain, he managed to send those visions—undetected—to Dean, to throw him off without letting anyone else know about it.

Dean was going in circles, losing his freaking mind. He was sure he was going in the right direction, he remembered every little detail about how to get to the damn barn, yet…for some reason, anytime he thought he found it, it wouldn't be there.

Same street, same address, same exact spot, yet…nothing.

It was almost as if the barn itself had moved or something since Dean was beyond positive that this was where it was. He would never forget something like that; this was where it had to be.

But, it wasn't.

Gone.

Absolutely nothing was there.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, looking around frantically for some answer as to where the hell it could've gone. It wasn't like it could just get up and freakin' run away. Unless…

Did Lucifer have that kind of power? Could he actually have altered his perception or something to make him think it was gone or somewhere else? He had come to learn that nothing was impossible, but even for the impossible that seemed pretty freakin' far-fetched.

Damn it, how the hell was he supposed to find Cas? He couldn't just blindly keep searching for the thing; it'd take him forever to find it that way and he needed to save Cas now.

Dean hadn't slept since he had gotten that phone call, but rather had driven for days on end—how many days he had driven, exactly, he did not know—not stopping for anything. No way in hell was he giving up or letting go now, if anything he would just fight harder.

Picking up his phone, he punched in the numbers frantically before bringing the phone to his ear.

He spun around rapidly on the spot, where he was quite positive the barn had been once before, confused as hell and feeling as if he would collapse at any given moment from all the stress and the toll this whole ordeal was taking on him, despite the brave face he put on.

"I can't find it!" Dean nearly yelled, the second the other line was picked up, "Yes, Bobby, I'm pretty damn sure I have the right spot; believe me, meeting a freakin' angel of the Lord isn't exactly grounds for easy forgetting. I know that this was where it was. I just don't know where the barn went."

Dean rolled his eyes, before stalking back to the car, "We've seen weirder things, haven't we?...I'm not crazy, Bobby, give me a little credit here, huh?...Well, what the hell am I supposed to do about it?"

Dean got into the car and slammed the door angrily. "Wow, that's original, Bobby, don't you think I would? I'd love to I really would, but unfortunately, I don't exactly got myself the means to find much of anything. I've lost Sam, I've lost Cas, so the only person left to help me…is you. Can you…or not?"

Dean's face fell with utter disappointment and betrayal. "You're really just going to let this happen? You aren't going to help me?...That's not helping anyone, Bobby….So, what do you suggest I—"

His line cut off randomly, so he closed his phone and nearly growled with his frustration. "Damn it!" He slammed the steering wheel angrily with the palms of his hands, before starting the ignition and speeding off within seconds.

Inside the barn, Castiel's whole being, his very existence, nearly sang for joy as he heard the Impala speeding off.

Dean had clearly fallen for that BS-ed phone call that he had only too easily thwarted with and had most likely given up. He was leaving, since he couldn't detect the barn or Cas, and that gave Cas a lot more time to find an actual way to ultimately save both Dean and Sam.

And, he didn't have to worry about Dean getting in the way of his plans and screwing with them by getting himself hurt and ruining any chance of saving himself.

Cas could feel his wounds getting worse and worse—some deeper than others, some still gushing out blood, others having dried blood around the edge of it and beginning to heal itself.

But, none of that mattered.

He had done all that needed to be done; he didn't give a crap what happened to himself right now. Suffering eternal torment for Dean's sake was very much worth it so long as it kept Dean alive and safe. And, this time he knew nothing about it so he could do nothing to stop it.

Cas turned his very smug, very satisfied eyes on Sam—or Lucifer, rather—a content smile turning up the corners of his lips, as he let out a small delirious chuckle. "I win…" he trailed off, too weak to really speak at all, but he had to force those words out just to prove his point and how bad-ass he could be even when under hard-core restraint.

"You…" Sam accused in that colder voice of his, "…you did this. You did something."

"It isn't that hard really…" Cas' voice still managed to be quite smug and proud, "Just working a little mojo here and there on his perception…make him see things that are there or aren't…you should know that humans are easily influenced by outside sources. Since you are the most influential of those outsides sources…"

Sam's lips curled up into a sneer as his hand now enclosed around Cas' throat and he slammed him against the wall, his nails digging in hard enough to draw blood, which now ran down Cas' throat and Sam's hand.

Cas stifled a grunt of pain and grimaced slightly, but other than that, he refused to make any other acknowledgements to the pain it caused him.

"Is that right?" Sam snarled, leaning in so his lips were right at Cas' ear, and Cas could feel his hot breath flooding his ear, making him cringe away from it in revulsion.

"You…really expected me…to trust you?...I knew the minute you had what you wanted…you'd kill Dean first thing….I couldn't…take that chance…you understand?"

Sam's hand jerked Cas' head forward before almost simultaneously slamming it against the wall again, in his anger.

"You forget…" his voice was a lot harsher, the words nearly growled, yet still at the same time, the softest of tones, making the words all the more menacing, "…I'm…not…human." He reminded him, the bitter tone underlying his words coming through a lot more than he had intended it to, "I hardly sink that low…to get what I want. I don't have to. Because one way or another, whether done by my hand or someone else's…I know…that I will get what I want. It will get done."

"Yeah…" Cas choked out, "Well, at least Dean has a head start. Time is most definitely in his favor as of right now, not yours."

"I do not need time," Sam pulled away, pinning his forearm against Cas' chest, pressing it hard into him to keep him against the wall, "Time is irrelevant to me and mine…"

Pulling his hand back, a smirk now played on his lips before he said, threateningly, "All I need…is that mojo of yours."

His hand thrust forward to clutch Castiel's forehead and a bright white light engulfed them both, as Sam began speaking the incantation, making Cas scream outright, the pain too agonizing to keep his screams to himself.

When he finally released him, Cas' body fell completely limp before crumpling to the ground, unmoving and lifeless.

Sam examined the palm of his hand as if it was the most fascinating thing ever and held all the answers of the universe for him as he smirked, and closed his eyes, working through it all to undo what Cas had done and remove all the barriers and obstacles he had put up to keep Dean away.

Now, it was only a matter of time before Dean came bursting in here to save the day like some noble hero wanna-be…

It was only a matter of time…

Dean had eventually pulled off the side of the road, having nowhere else to go and no strategy to get a damn thing done. Damn it, what the hell was he supposed to do?

Looking down in his lap, he saw it…

The tie…

The Tie of Sex…

His one and only connection with Cas right now. His one and only hope. Stupid and ridiculous and corny as it seemed, Dean went ahead and took the bite that he knew would kill any rational and sane cat anyway.

He picked it up and balled it up in his hands, holding it so hard that his hands were actually shaking with the effort to do so, as his forehead slammed against the steering wheel and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, his whole body beginning to tremble with fear and anger.

"Come on, speak to me, Cas, speak to me," Dean mumbled, clutching the tie even closer, "Where is you being already, huh?"

After a while, it was as if a giant cloud of confusion that had been placed over Dean was suddenly being lifted, everything starting to make sense and come back to normal—whatever the hell that was—for Dean.

Something was changing…he could sense it. He could sense…

Him.

Cas…

Oh, God. Within mere seconds, he knew exactly where he was, and for some reason, he comprehended everything. He knew what had happened, what Cas had did, and more importantly where Cas had been.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, immediately starting the ignition and taking off once more, "Cas…"

And, like that, he was long gone, nothing could be seen but the dust cloud that had been formed from his tires speeding away so damn fast.

There it was. Right where Dean remembered it. The barn.

The barn.

The barn.

It was weird, but it was almost as if he could sense Cas there before even getting out of the car, like somehow he could sense Cas' presence somewhere around. Like whatever it was that had taken away that cloud of confusion was also allowing him to also sense Cas, to feel the very essence of Cas right here, right now.

Even amongst all this crisis, he still managed to snort internally at the sexual implications. Especially since if he didn't, he'd have to acknowledge the fact that he was very much sounding like he was on the verge of becoming a freakin' woman—something he could never, ever in a million years allow to happen.

Oh, God…

No! No, no, no, no, NO! No…woman-becoming. None at all. This was strictly manly man-ness. Nothing feminine about it, there was a Y-chromosome present; that made it strictly very masculine.

He still shuddered slightly at the way he was thinking and behaving now before stomping on the brake and turning the car off as quickly as he could before grabbing anything he could to help him in there before running off towards the barn.

Towards Cas.

Storming in unannounced—like any good, decent Winchester would, considering it was embedded in his very blood—Dean kicked the door in, before practically running in with his anxiety, and he stood in the doorway, taking in the scene before actually taking action:

The room was completely destroyed. Collapsed pillars, broken-through walls, broken splinters and pieces of wood, now broken-in scrap metal, and utter chaos and mayhem were throughout the room. Blood splattered all throughout the room, covering almost every inch of it, but most importantly was…

Cas…

Lying in the center of the room amongst all the wreckage and debris, completely submerged in a pool of his own blood, completely limp and lifeless. Unmoving. Unresponsive.

Dead.

No. No! No, he could not be dead; he could not be dead. He could not be dead. No way in hell was it that easy, damn it.

"Cas," Dean called, running towards the body, after a quick survey telling him that they were indeed alone and he had no other threats to face down just yet.

"Cas!" Dean screamed, repeatedly, as he approached the body and took Cas in his arms, shaking him violently, trying to rouse him to consciousness or at least get a response out of him.

"Cas! Cas!" He repeated the name over and over again, shaking him even harder, but all that happened was that Cas' body collapsed weakly into Dean's, implying that he was truly dead.

Cas was dead.

Cas…was…dead.

Oh, God…

Oh…God…no.

No, no, no, it could not be that easy. He couldn't be dead; he just couldn't.

Dean would not believe it; he would refuse to ever, in a million years, accept that. Never. Cas could not be dead.

Not now, not ever…

He would not be dead, Dean would not let him…

No response.

No response.

No matter what Dean said, what he did, Cas never responded, never woke up. He was, in fact, dead.

Castiel. Was. Dead.

His angel was dead…

Time was irrelevant, indeed. The world was; everything was completely irrelevant. Most importantly, Dean's existence was. Nothing else mattered, nothing else could.

He could not tell how long he was there, holding that truly fallen angel in his arms, shaking him fiercely to try to get through to him, because the second that he had reached Cas, everything just spontaneously stopped.

How the hell could time go on, how could the world keep spinning when Cas was dead? It just couldn't be possible. It couldn't.

Dean simply sat there, yelling for Cas to wake up as he held him, calling his name over and over and over again, until his voice had gone hoarse from how long he had been cry out for him. It was quite similar to how his voice sounded after they had had sex, only the circumstances where nowhere near as pleasant this time.

Once Dean's own personal world stopped spinning enough to make him realize where he was and what had happened, and things began to make a little more sense, he clutched Cas even tighter, jerking him up in his arms as his hands now moved to grip Cas' face, desperate to wake him up, no matter what the cost might be.

"Cas, Cas, Cas," Dean shifted his weight slightly, yet frantically, as he got to his knees in order to prop Cas up against his legs.

"Hey, Cas, come on, buddy, wake up, huh? Come on, man, pains-in-the-ass do not die so easily, believe me, I should know." Dean was choking back his sobs as he tightened his grip on Cas' trench coat, shaking him once again as if something had changed in the past however long he'd been there.

"Come on, Cas, you can't leave me; you just can't. Not now, you can't leave me with Sammy. I can't—not without you. If you go, I'll wind up givin' in and just killin' the kid. You keep me set straight, dude, I need you. I need you here. I need you with me."

No answer.

Dean buried his face miserably in Cas' shoulder, tightening his hold on him as if hugging him tightly to himself, only it wasn't really a hug.

"God," he growled, now raising his head and glaring at Cas' lifeless form, "Damn it, Cas, wake up. Open your damn eyes, just open them. Do it!"

No response.

"Cas!" Dean's voice cracked slightly, both with emotion and with the lack of ability to speak right now with how long he'd been calling Cas' name already.

Still no response.

Now, hugging him close, and pressing his lips to Cas' ear as he stifled sobs, Dean squeezed his eyes tightly shut, before choking out the words, "I love you, too…"

"And, here you are, getting all pissed off at me for choosing a demon over you, Dean, yet you choose an angel…over me," came Sam's cold voice from behind Dean, making Dean whip around and clutch Cas even closer, protectively, "…over…your own…brother." He repeated Dean's own words back to him, a very sadistic smirk breaking out across his lips as he looked to Dean holding Cas.

"Lucifer…" Dean nearly growled as he released Cas and rose to his feet, meeting the challenge with everything he had. If he died, he died. What did he really have to lose now; he'd already lost everything. "Guess you took care of that vamp nest, huh?"

Now, losing Sam and Cas had just completely pushed him over the edge. He had nothing left to fight for, so he would just give in and whatever happened, happened.

"And, Dean," Sam's voice acknowledged, completely ignoring Dean's attempt at a joke, not moving but his eyes following Dean's every movement, down to the slightest twitching of his fingers. "Find a way to kill me yet?" The smug voice challenged, knowing very well what the answer to that question was.

"Not yet," Dean relented, "…but, God knows I will."

"God knows you'll try…Dean," Sam corrected, slowly and cautiously approaching Dean, taking great care to not make any sudden movements so as to drag this out. "But, when all is said and done, Dean, at the end of the day, when it comes down to it…even God…couldn't defeat me. He couldn't kill me. If He couldn't…what makes you think that you could?"

"No," Dean corrected, refusing to believe that, "God wouldn't…not couldn't."

"And, that doesn't make you ask why?" Sam taunted, now circling his way around Dean really enjoying this little debating of religion and theology with Dean, knowing good and well Dean's standing on those issues.

"Every day of my life," Dean admitted, "But, that's not to say He won't eventually…kill you."

"He hasn't as of yet," Sam reminded him, really enjoying this a hell of a lot more than he should have.

Dean stiffened up the closer that Sam got, hating having to see his brother in this condition. God, it was beyond hell to have to see Sammy like this. And, he, himself, had been through every damn circle and ring of hell there was to experience.

Dean choked out a small chuckle, "Maybe that's just proving me wrong then. Maybe God really is just a lot more merciful than He should be."

"Even to me," Sam's voice was beyond taunting, every word dripping with pride and arrogance. "Doesn't that just piss you off?"

Dean clenched his teeth to keep from saying something he'd regret later. Sure, he wasn't exactly gung-ho on the whole God concept and hadn't really considered religion at all in his life, but that did not mean he was just going to agree with Lucifer, no matter how pissed off he really was. He knew exactly what Lucifer was trying to do and he…absolutely…would not…take a bite out of that damn hook.

Sam's lips turned up into a knowing smile, though, as he continued on his little speech. "So, what exactly are you planning to do here, Dean…besides, what; put on the sarcasm show to hide your fears and die? You failed to save your precious little guardian angel…you failed to save your brother…so what is the point, really? You couldn't kill me even if you had the means. We know you wouldn't."

"No…" Dean corrected, "I wouldn't kill Sam. You, on the other hand, I'd kill in a second if I had the means."

"Yes, and in order to kill me, you'd have to kill Sam, Dean, have you not been following? You can't kill me without killing your little brother. Wasn't this what your dad had made you promise the day he sacrificed his life for yours? Watch out for Sammy. Save him. And, if you can't…"

He didn't say the words. He didn't have to.

Dean flinched at the mere memory of those words, and shook his head, fiercely, "I will not…kill Sammy, not if I can help it."

"Hm…I wondered. I mean, with how badly Sam betrayed you…He chose a demon over you, Dean, he got hooked on her blood, he tried to strangle you; if that's not grounds for a little revenge, then I don't know what is. I know if it was me—"

"Well, it's not you," Dean said, immediately, flinching at the proximity between him and Sam, when he looked up only to see him mere feet away from him. "And, that's not my style."

"Oh, but it is, Dean. We know it is. How many innocent lives have you taken, have you completely destroyed without so much of a blink of hesitation because that innocent life was taken over by a demon? Because that person was possessed by a demon, you saw fit to kill them. How is that…not revenge? Because, why, because one random, insignificant demon killed your mother a million years ago? Talk about petty, huh?"

"No…not petty. Not revenge," Dean clarified, shaking his head slightly with his hatred and anger, "I was saving them. Saving them from a life of having one of your heartless sons of bitches trapped inside them forever. They're grateful for it in the long run, I'm sure. Just because you don't understand the concepts of being human does not mean that we don't. Us humans…would rather die…than live a life as something so evil and disgusting and filthy."

Sam breathed an amused chuckle, "As opposed to selfish worthless human beings who care about nothing but themselves. Their greater good, their happiness, their gratifications…Why is that so okay, but our methods aren't? We are just like you, just fighting for what we believe in. How is that so wrong? How is that so evil?"

"It's all in the way you go about it," Dean said, struggling to keep his voice steady, "We…do not kill…random people just to get our points across. We want power, we want money and sex and random useless things that hey, you know what?...might not make a lick of sense to you. And, yes it might be petty, I'll admit. And, in the long run, it won't mean a damn thing to any of us. Humans might be run by their selfish desires…but, you're the one who plants those selfish desires within us, are you not?"

"I don't know," Sam challenged, beginning his pacing again in the opposite direction, "Am I…really? Or is it just…human nature trying to break free? Much like I was. All we want, Dean, all we yearn for is our freedom. Freedom to do what we want, as we want. Just…like…you." His eyes met Dean's, making Dean actually flinch in response.

"Great, now you've got your damn freedom. Now, let me show you exactly what you can do that freedom of yours, please. You can shove it up your ass, then drag that worthless ass of yours straight back to hell, and stay there. Because I assure you, if you do not get out of my brother…if you do not leave right here, right now, while you still have the chance…I will kill you. I'm giving you that chance to walk away right now. No one gets hurt, and I get my brother back. That's all I'm asking for."

"You had…your brother back, Dean. Time and time again, you had your brother back. And, you took him for granted…time…and time…again. Always thought he'd be there, your little brother, just waiting to answer your every beckon call like a good little lap dog. Well, you forget…he…asked for this…to get away…from you. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Don't you get it?

"You blew your chances of ever having him back. I can feel him squirming inside me right now, Dean, he doesn't want you anymore. That's why he left. That's why he won't ever come back. He doesn't want to come back to you. He wants a release from you breathing down his neck, and I…well, I just happen to be…that very release."

The corners of Dean's lips twitched slightly, as he glared angrily at Sam right now—not Lucifer, but Sam—hating him for making this decision. How the hell could he have ever said yes to Lucifer? How? God, Sam's decision had gotten Cas killed. Just because he was pissed at Dean, to make his point and to put off the whole bad-ass reputation and protect his independence from Dean, he allowed himself to be possessed by Lucifer?! God, you do not…do that! You don't! Sam had become so damn selfish and he just—

The words he had used against Lucifer now relating to Sam pissed him off to no freaking end. God, he could not do this. He couldn't; he could not…handle this. Taking on Lucifer and sending his ass back to hell…he could handle. But, he could not take on Lucifer…in Sam's body. He could not kill Sammy just to smite Lucifer; he couldn't. He was his brother.

Sammy was his brother. His little brother. He had to protect him…he couldn't kill him; no matter what decisions he made, it was his job to save his ass and—

Showing no more discretion, and no longer holding back, Dean gave in and he turned around and shoved Sam and Lucifer back.

Sam, he shoved for being a pain-in-his-ass and making the ultimate decision that got Cas killed…

Lucifer, he shoved for being a pain-in-his-ass and killing Cas and taking over his little brother…

Dean slammed him against the wall, thrusting his fist angrily into Sam's face multiple times, as hard as he could, channeling all his anger, all his fear, all his pain into this, by beating the freakin' crap out of him until he got his message through loud and clear.

It was a good long while before Dean suddenly realized something strange. Sam was just letting him beat the crap out of him. He wasn't doing a thing to stop him, but rather was just sitting there and taking it.

Stranger yet: he wasn't fighting back. Considering the fact that Sam had been all about the starting the fights lately as Sam, it was beyond weird that as Lucifer he was sitting there and taking beat down after beat down, without even attempting to throw a punch or two of his own.

Dean couldn't exactly worry about that right now just yet, though, he had much bigger matters at hand.

All of a sudden though, Sam just started laughing hysterically, making Dean's fist freeze mid-punch, and Dean completely stopped cold, trying to figure out what the hell was so funny.

"I'm sorry," Dean choked out, lowering his fist but tightening his hold on Sam still, "Is my fist amusing to you?"

"Oh everything about you is amusing to me, Dean," Sam said, in between laughs, and suddenly, Dean's hands were releasing Sam.

Sam was using his mind to release them and slamming Dean against the opposite wall, with no effort at all on his part.

Dean's back collided hard with the fall, giving jolt forward slightly, as he grimaced in his pain, inhaling sharply as he threw his head back against the wall to avoid looking into Sam's eyes.

"Let me go, you son of a bitch!" Dean growled, straining against the invisible forces holding him in place, pinning him against the wall, to no avail.

"No," Sam said, in the calmest and softest of tones, showing no signs of worry or concern, not that he really had to anyways.

"Do it!" Dean nearly yelled, slamming his head back against the wall in his efforts to break free of his restraints.

"Oh, okay, now I'll do it," Sam said, his voice thick with sarcasm and quite light and joking, all things considered.

Dean clenched his teeth in his anger before suddenly collapsing weakly to the ground, and when he tried to get up, he couldn't.

"Let me go," he said, his voice so hard and angry that he didn't even recognize it himself.

"You don't quite comprehend the whole killing-you concept, do you, Dean? Don't you get it?...you are the only person on earth with the potential to kill me, ridiculous as that might seem. I won't just sit around and wait for that to happen, even I have some sense of self-preservation. Survival of the fittest, no? Either you or me…my money's on you."

Sam walked over and bent over Dean, placing a hand gently on his cheek, making him cringe away in revulsion, much like he had done with Cas, and Dean averted his eyes to avoid seeing his brother like this.

"I am sorry, Dean," Sam's voice was just barely above a whisper. "As I said, I can feel Sam inside of me and…it kills him to do this. He doesn't want to; in fact, he is fighting me. And, I'll say this for him; he is a lot stronger than I realized, but…I am much more powerful and have a strength that far surpasses even his. While he may not want to kill you, I know that I have to…and Sam does what I make him do. He can't fight me off. Neither can you. You've lost…Dean."

Sam's face distorted into that trademark look of his—one that looked like a child who just saw his dog get run over by a car or Bambi after seeing his mother shot by the hunter—and Dean had to avoid his eyes again to avoid giving in. That look could get Sam anywhere, and Dean knew that would definitely work to Lucifer's advantage.

Sammy made that face and Dean was sure to follow that boy anywhere, even very literally into the gates of hell, and he knew, without a doubt, that no one could resist that face of his. Lucifer made himself a damn good choice in the choosing of his vessel; that much was sure.

"No…" Dean choked out, as Sam's fingers now ran their way through Dean's hair, almost as if meant to be a soothing comforting gesture, making Dean's stomach do a back-flip or two, and the fact that it was technically his brother doing this had absolutely nothing to do with that.

"No," Sam reiterated, softly, almost as if reaffirming Dean's word, but also apologizing for it having to be so. "You can't win, Dean. And…if you would give yourself to me…relinquish control and promise me that you won't…" his voice sounded thick with emotion as his face distorted into that look again, "…then, I wouldn't have to do this. I wouldn't kill you. I don't want to, Dean, you have to know that—"

"No!" Dean said, his voice harder, as he fought through Lucifer's powers and mojo and crap to raise his head and said, "All I need to know…is that you…are nothing more…than the worst of evil. Hell, it's in your name, is it not; why do you think we call you the devil? Evil, hello. And, it is my job…to fight and kill…evil. Including you."

"Including Sammy," he challenged, knowing that Dean wasn't going to go through with it.

"No…Sammy's not evil. You are. And you…are going to get your disgusting…loathsome…son of a bitch ass out…of my brother…right now. Before I decide to give in and call in the big guns. Something tells me that Michael in my skin ain't gonna be quite as pleasant as me. Are you really willing to risk that…all to have Sammy as your damn vessel? Could Sam really be that damn important to you? Come on, what is he really to you, another piece of crap worthless human, right? Nothing special."

"Oh, how wrong you are, Dean. Sam is very much indeed special, otherwise he would not have been durable enough to be my vessel."

"Yeah, I've heard that one before, but what the hell is it that makes him the damn one anyway? I mean, why not someone else; why him? Why not me? I mean, if you are going for looks, I am a lot hotter than he is admittedly, people are attracted to me a lot easier if that's the appeal you're goin' for, you know? Just a suggestion, not that I want to be your vessel anymore than I want Sammy to, I'm just trying to understand how the damn process works."

Sam chuckled softly, before shaking his head, "Oh, I wish I knew. I truly do. After all you have sacrificed, Dean, you deserve to know. But, I do not have that answer, I'm afraid."

"Oh, you don't know. You choose some random dude off the street to be the damn ice cream sundae to your strawberry filling and you don't know why? I don't believe that load of crap."

"Hm…believe me or don't believe me, I'd expect nothing less. You've never trusted anyone aside from family, Dean, that's part of what has made you so good at what you do."

"Thanks for the approval, all I need is a damn trophy with your signature on it and then my life's dream will have been fulfilled." Dean said, managing sarcasm, hoping that he might be able to get through to some part of Sam.

"Mm, glad to hear it," he fed his sarcasm, to let him know that his attempts were indeed pointless. "Dean, I'm sorry, but…I cannot…let you defeat me. I've spent the past thousands of years trying to break free and now that I have…I can't ever go back. You understand. You've been to the pit yourself; would you ever willingly go back?"

"If the price was right," Dean lied, just to put on that he was braver and stronger than he really was.

But, Lucifer saw right through it. "No. You wouldn't. You've learned your lesson, haven't you? Hard as it might be for you…you have to let go of the ones you love eventually. You cannot hang on to the past, that only results in more pain and more people getting hurt. If you did…kill me, kill Sam…you wouldn't make another deal. You wouldn't offer up your soul again because…you have learned that there are more important things in the world. You can't sacrifice everything for little Sammy anymore, can you? He can no longer be your number one priority. You have a greater good to sacrifice much more for."

"Yeah, thanks to you and your buddies," Dean said, bitterly, "If it weren't for you, I might actually be able to look out for my brother the way I'm supposed to, the way I should be able to."

"So…why not just end it now then? Put Sammy out of his misery. Kill him, send me to hell…ultimately save Sam. It's for the greater good, is it not? It's what Sam would've wanted, you know it is. It's what your dad would've wanted."

"Yeah, well, both my dad and my brother were lacking greatly in the common sense concept of life. They didn't exactly know what was best for them and what was best for the greater good. I'm not keeping Sam alive for my own purposes."

"Oh, but that's the thing, Dean. You are." Sam contradicted, knowing very much what Dean's true intentions were, despite the solid game face he always had on. "You are saving Sam…because he's your brother. And, you don't want to be alone. You don't want to lose him. That sounds as selfish a reason as any to me."

"Right, cause you're just Mother Theresa with a penis, right? All high and mighty? Well, get off that damn high horse of yours and go die of syphilis and burn forever in hell and leave me and my brother…the f*ck alone."

Sam grimaced appreciatively with those words before breaking out into laughter again. "Oh, Dean…Dean, Dean…of all the human beings I have come in contact with, none of them actually amuse me as you do. You are, indeed, something else."

"Yes, something else. Indeed. Well, this something else will not stop until you are dead, is that understood?"

"Very much so," Sam responded, with a slight nod of his head, "Oh, Dean…what an asset you would be to me if you would just realize that…I am not the bad guy you are making me out to be. If you weren't so hell-bent on killing me, you and I might actually make a pretty great team. You and Sam were great, sure, but you and I would be…wow. Unstoppable goes beyond understatement. I've got the mojo, you've got the sarcasm and wit, if only you'd realize how great it would truly be."

"Nah, guess I'll just have to settle for being an ass then, huh? A label I've prided myself on the past 30-some-odd years. I don't asset-ify myself down like Sammy does here. He might team up with demons, but I like to think myself better than that."

"Now, who's high on themselves? And you accuse me of being prideful…"

"No, I'm just speaking the truth, you stretch the truth into downright lame-ass lies to build up your own confidence and make you feel better about yourself. See, I don't need to do that; I'm just damn awesome without even having to try."

"You prove my point, Dean, that all men are selfish and worry about nothing but themselves."

"Please!" Dean scoffed, "I went to hell…to save my brother. That ain't exactly worryin' about myself."

"Yes, but you did it for selfish purposes. You did it, not for Sam, but for you. You saved Sam because you didn't want to live without him. And, now…look what's become of it. And, you call it a good thing. Yet the way you talk of me, the way you perceive me is hardly good. How could that be seen as good to you?"

"I wouldn't take back that decision to save the world," Dean admitted, hanging his head slightly in shame, "Sammy's my brother. And no matter how selfish it might have been…I don't care."

"And therein lies the problem with humanity."

"Right back at you," Dean shot back, "All selfishness starts with you and ends with you. All evil starts with you and ends with you. I might be selfish, but at least I'm not evil."

"Yet," Sam replied, "That's just the beginning of the very long, very destructive process. It all begins with one act—just one—of selfish pride and before you know it…your decision has led to the apocalypse. Maybe not directly, but it affected the end result somehow in the long run."

Sam waited a long moment, until Dean said nothing, before challenging him, "So?...go on then. Kill me. Save your brother from an evil abhorred creature such as myself, Dean. Isn't that your job…to keep him safe and protect him from me? Are you really prepared to fail now?"

"Hardly," Dean said, through clenched teeth, as he felt the restraints being lowered and slowly but surely he could move again.

He climbed to his feet before facing Sam, full-on, and in doing so, he caught a peek at Cas' body lying on the other side of the room.

That stirred up an unspoken, uncontrollable anger in him, and pure rage filled his body and mind, completely taking him over, as he glared at Sam, his hand twitching as he struggled to remain in that spot.

"Give me everything you've got, then, huh?" Sam challenged, holding out his hands as if offering an invitation for Dean to kill him right then and there. "If not to defeat me, then at least do it for Sammy. I took him over, he's completely gone. Never again will you talk to him. Doesn't that just piss you off? And, let's see how you feel when we talk about Cas…Stealing his angelic mojo was most definitely a blast but it wasn't the best thing I did to him. The best overall…was convincing him that you didn't give a damn about him…and that you didn't love him. You should've seen the look on his face. He handed himself over to me so willingly, so quickly, not even giving it a second thought. So eager to be my bitch since he didn't qualify to be yours anymore, as far as he was concerned…"

"You son of a bitch!..." Dean yelled, as he lunged full-force towards Sam, throwing him against the furthest wall, pinning his body in place with his own.

Within seconds, Dean firmly gripped Sam's wrists before locking them in place against the wall beside Sam's head, making sure to slam them as hard as he could, with a grunt.

"What did you do to Cas?"

No answer.

"What…did you do…to Cas?"

Sam squirmed underneath Dean's weight, a smile playing on his lips as he shifted slightly, trying to ease Dean's grip on him, with no success. "Nothing, really."

" 'Nothing, really?' " Dean quoted, "So, you didn't kill him? What do you mean stealing his mojo, what did you take from him?"

"Everything," Sam's voice choked out, his voice actually strained since Dean's forearm was pressed against his throat. "He's really nothing now. He's no longer an angel, I stripped him of everything he had. Yet he can't really be a human either can he, so what does that make him? Even I don't know."

Dean shoved his weight against him even harder, now getting beyond pissed off, "Fix it!"

"I can't. I don't have the means."

Gripping him tightly by his shirt, Dean clutched him closer by his shirt before jerking him around and saying, "Well, find the damn means to fix it! You bring him back, damn it; you bring him back now."

"I can't. Contrary to popular belief, I don't have the power to actually bring people back to life and I certainly don't have the power to give him back his powers. Castiel…is dead."

"No!" Dean insisted, shaking him angrily, "He is not dead; he can't be dead."

"He is," Sam's voice was a lot harder, as he raised his hand and the angel sword emerged from his wrist, which he flaunted to Dean, before saying, with a smirk. "And, you're about to join him."

Dean immediately released Sam before staggering backward several steps, back towards Cas' body, as he choked out, "No."

"Yes," Sam's voice said, as he raised the sword and began advancing towards Dean, who had backed himself into a wall, looking for an escape out of here.

Oh, God, here it was. The show down.

The final show down.

Sam was going to kill Dean…and he was going to ultimately destroy himself.

God, maybe he could talk him down or something. It's either that or actually being killed by his brother. Oh, yeah, things were definitely looking great in this situation.

"Whoa, whoa, hey come on, man. Sammy, I know you're in there somewhere, man. I know that we've had our differences in the past, but I know you don't really wanna kill me. Yeah, sometimes we do a little, but not like killing-killing, just like: 'Oh, my God, get the hell out of my face, dude, you're pissing me off' killing and then five minutes later everything's all fine again. Sammy, please, please. I know you're there, I know it. You can't just be completely gone. Sam, please hear me."

No response. Definitely no reaction from Sam, unless you count the raising of the sword-wielding arm and the look of utter hatred and loathing distorting his facial features as he thrust his arm back.

"Damn it, Sam, this isn't you! No! No, Sam, please, no. You can't do this."

Yeah, it really wasn't working. All that Dean could do now was shield his face, cringe away, and pray to God he didn't feel too much pain at least.

Suddenly, Sam's free hand came up to tightly grip the back of Dean's neck and he pulled him hard against him, before pressing the blade of the sword into the side of Dean's neck. His fingers tightened in Dean's hair as he jerked his head back so that their eyes met and he said, "Sammy…can't…hear you, Dean. I told you…he's gone. Forever," he growled the word, as he thrust his arm back again.

As Sam was about to jerk his arm forward again, to stab the sword through Dean's chest, Dean noticed something flash in his eyes. Something that was…different. Familiar.

It wasn't the cold unfeeling look of Lucifer, it was the concerned and loving look of Sam. Of his brother. Sam. Sammy.

Somehow, Sam had fought his way through and had managed to break through the possession. It was Sam. It was his little brother.

Oh, God…

"Sammy?" Dean called out, taking the chance that perhaps Sam could indeed hear him.

"Dean…" Sam's voice sounded familiar. It was Sam's voice, not Lucifer's. The look on his face was Sam's trademark pouty face, not Lucifer's poor imitation of it. It was Sam's concern and fear that he was met with. "No…"

"No!" Sam called out, but his arm was already jerking forward.

However, with a mere twitch of his arm, the sword was plunging into his own stomach as opposed to Dean's chest, making him double over in agony, as it ripped into the skin and blood immediately flowed freely from his wound.

Sam collapsed, the sword stabbing in even deeper, making him cry out in agony, as he rolled over, and his back arched against the pain as a white light suddenly engulfed him, blinding and brilliant, but both he and Dean buried their faces in their arms to avoid direct contact with it.

When the light was completely gone and Sam had stopped screaming completely, he arched his back even more before cringing into a ball and crying out, "Dean! The…sword…Take it out. Remove the sword…only…way. Lucifer, stop…Lucifer…take it out. It's me. God, it's me, it's me; please take it out."

Without hesitation, Dean ran over to Sam and jerked the sword out of his stomach, making him scream even louder, clinging to Dean for dear life to stay still as he pulled it out.

When it was out, Sam clutched Dean's arms tightly with his hands before lurching forward and burying his face miserably in Dean's shoulder, still in utter agony, his fingers biting hard into Dean's skin.

"Dean…destroy it. Destroy the sword. Do it." Sam choked out, "I swear to God, Dean, it's me. Please, you have to destroy it. It'll hold off Lucifer. Please, you have to believe me, Dean, you have to."

"How do I know it's really you?" Dean said, still not willing to believe it could've been that easy.

Sam gripped Dean's face tightly in one hand, before meeting and holding his eyes, "Dean. It's me. It's…me. If it wasn't, I couldn't touch this."

At that moment, he picked up Dean's necklace, which had fallen out next to Cas' body and he handed it to him. "This necklace, Dean, Lucifer can't touch it. He—I—we tried, but we couldn't. It burned us, see."

He held up his hands to show that they were indeed red from being so burned, and then he touched the necklace again.

Nothing.

"See. Nothing." Sam reiterated Dean's thoughts. "It's me, Dean. It's your brother, I swear."

"How do I destroy it?" Dean said, frantically, looking around for some answer.

"You don't…" came Cas' voice from the corner of the room, making Dean look up.

Dean's heart stopped for a millisecond upon seeing Cas, standing there before them, alive, before almost simultaneously restarting itself.

"Cas," he breathed, a smile playing on his lips, and it took all he had to stay put and not lunge for him, like, right now. "You're alive."

"I'm alive," Cas confirmed, "And, you don't destroy that sword, Dean. I do."

"How exactly; I thought Lucifer took your mojo."

"No…he did," Sam answered for him, "But, he couldn't handle it. It was too much for him. Lucifer can't handle full-on angel powers; it's too much for him. It incinerated him from the inside out. That's how the sword was able to…"

"The sword has trapped him, because that is a special sword," Cas continued the explanation. "That…was the sword Michael used against him to send him to hell. Stabbing him with that sword, Sam, trapped him inside the sword itself. The only way to get rid of him completely is to destroy that sword."

"And, you're the one who's gonna do that?" Dean said, sounding quite unsure, "Cas, you can barely stand properly, dude, dying really took its toll on you. You shouldn't risk it."

"That's not why I'm risking it, Dean, and you know that. I have to do this. I'm the only one who can. I have to do it."

"And, why can't I just do it?"

"Because you aren't an angel," Sam answered, "You have to be an angel to touch that sword, Dean. If you touched it as a human…it would kill you. You'd die."

"Yes, Sammy, I understand the killing you concept very well, thank you. Fine."

Cas took the necklace from Sam before picking up the sword. He touched the charm of the necklace to the sword, which began to emit a red glow before bursting spontaneously into flames.

Cas held the necklace as way of protection, as he also held the sword in both hands and he watched as it completely burned itself to a total crisp until there was nothing but ashes in his hands.

The ashes disappeared within moments, and Cas said, looking to them both, "It's not over yet. We need to leave now. Clean-up's not up to us; we need to get out of here before they come or we're all dead."

"Who's they?" Sam asked.

"Who cares; all in favor of remaining not dead let's get the hell out of here," Dean suggested, raising his hand, subtly, making them both smile slightly.

The barn began to shake violently, the ground beginning to crack so they began running out of the room.

Cas waited for Sam to get a little further ahead so he couldn't hear, before grabbing Dean's wrist. "Wait," he called, dodging out of the way of the now collapsing pillar.

Dean's skin burned with desire where Cas' fingers touched it, but he forced himself to behave right now. "Yeah?"

Cas smiled, slightly, before putting Dean's necklace on for him, caressing the line of the necklace with his fingertips before placing a soft kiss on Dean's lips. "You love me, too." His smiled widened, as did Dean's, before the pillar completely collapsed.

And, like that they were speeding out of the barn, speeding away from the barn in the Impala, eager to get the hell away from everything.

Sometimes, silence is golden…sometimes, silence is just a plain bitch. It all depends on the circumstances. Awkward silence is bad enough, but awkward pissed-off silence…is just bitchy and awful beyond words. Dean had been to hell and back, yet that seemed like a walk in the damn park compared to this.

God, how the hell had they gotten here? Sam and Dean used to be so close that nothing, nothing in the world was powerful enough to penetrate their relationship. Sam was all that Dean had; Dean was all that Sam had. Now, they didn't have even that. Now, they couldn't even define to themselves what it was they had left in this world anymore.

"Dude," Dean said, his voice coming out a lot harder than he had intended, making Sam jump a little in his seat, "Are you getting your freakin' blood on my seat? I thought I told you to sit on your jacket, man."

Dean reached over to shove Sam's jacket underneath him. Sam shifted his weight forward to make it easier for Dean to do so.

"Damn, buddy-boy, you have got yourself some major battle wounds; you all right? Never would've thought you to have so much blood in you. Maybe it's all the extra demon blood you chugged down, hmm?" Dean suggested, putting on to be sarcastic, though Sam saw right through the façade.

Sam flinched slightly with those words, and surprisingly, for once, did not retort with his usual eye roll , or irritated sigh, or: "Dean, I said I'm sorry, like, a zillion times; will you let it go?"

Rather, Sam just kept his eyes fixed on the window, staring out at the night as it passed them by at a zillion miles an hour.

Dean knew there would be many times in the future when he would regret doing the following, but he went ahead and bit it. "Sam?"

No answer.

"You all right?"

A long moment of silence passed before Sam finally choked out, "No…Dean. I am not…all right."

"Well, I think that's to be expected; I mean, after all, you stabbed yourself in the gut. Can't have felt too pleasant, you know—"

"No, Dean," Sam said, his voice slightly more assertive, "That is not what I'm talking about."

Yeah, Dean got that, but still, he attempted to change the subject, to avoid this conversation at all costs. "Yeah, but humor me, man. How are you still walking with that gaping hole in your stomach, huh? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, on the ground, curled up in a ball, bleeding to death?"

Sam finally turned his eyes on Dean, to assess his expression, before saying, softly, "No…. Disappointed?"

Dean stifled a snort, "Hardly. Just…curious."

Sam turned away again, not really knowing how to explain it, so Castiel chimed in, taking over.

"Sam…has immunity to the sword's effects…Dean." Dean looked up at Cas in the rearview mirror, trying hard to not allow every inch of his body to flare up at how amazing that freakin' angel looked, sitting there in that damn back seat. All by himself. So lonely. God, what Dean wouldn't give to join him back there and just have his damn way with him already.

"Immunity?" Dean choked out, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand, and not on the matter he wanted to be at hand.

"Yes," Cas confirmed, his eyes the only thing telling Dean his thoughts were very much identical to Dean's own, his desires matching Dean's. "Immunity. It was anticipated, since the very beginning of time, since Lucifer's rebellion, that he would break out of hell somehow. That some day he would find some broken link in the chain and walk the earth as men do.

"It was not known how he would do it, but precautions were taken as to the only way it was known that he could do it. Through Sam. He was chosen long ago to be Lucifer's vessel, and though we might not have known that, we knew how special he was. We knew that he had an important role to play in Lucifer's plan. So, the sword was…blessed, I guess you could say. It was sanctified by the most powerful forces of heaven to be able to recognize Sam. That way if Sam ever was taken over by Lucifer, you could kill Lucifer…without having to kill Sam."

Dean took a moment to absorb that before saying, "So…but, wait a minute, that was Lucifer's…angel sword thingy, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Exactly." Cas said, his eyes speaking legions to Dean's even through the darkness of the night.

"So, Lucifer wasn't aware that his own freakin' sword would shank his ass? I'm sorry, but I find that hard to believe; how the hell did he not know that?"

"Because, it was done…after he had already fallen down to hell, Dean. He had already been long cut off from heaven's connections; he couldn't know what we were doing. He had no way of knowing."

"And, you guys charmed the damn sword while it was down in hell…while you guys were in heaven?...how the hell did you manage that?"

A smirk played on Cas' lips. "Stranger things have happened. God…created…this world, Dean, this very universe. If He is capable of such power, why should that be out of His capabilities? He can do anything; charming a sword from somewhere on the other side of that universe undetected is pretty miniscule in comparison, don't you think?"

Dean merely shrugged, "You got me. Touché." He hesitated a moment before continuing on, "So, Sam's immune to its killing powers, I get. But, uh…he's bleeding. When exactly does that stop? Is he just gonna magically, I don't know, heal himself or?..." Dean cut his words off, sounding quite doubtful to the concept.

"You tell me," Sam chimed in, turning to look at Dean as he pushed his shirt up to reveal his stomach. The wounds were closed. Blood stained the skin, but it was as if it had only been smeared onto it, as opposed to being stabbed out of it.

"Holy crap," Dean said, hesitantly reaching over to touch his fingers to the skin of Sam's stomach, right beside the worst of the blood stains. He didn't want to touch it, too afraid it would hurt Sam if he did. "Does it hurt?"

Sam shrugged, slightly, exhaling shakily, his stomach rippling painfully as a result. "Doesn't tickle," was all Sam would say right now.

Dean lightly brushed the tips of his fingers across the blood, wiping it off, before bringing his fingers up to examine it closer. He rubbed his fingers together with his thumb to wipe the blood off of his skin, staring at it with an intense look in his eyes before saying, to Cas, "And…you're sure it wasn't the demon blood that immunized him? For sure it was just his being Sammy that got the job done?"

"Exactly what are you suggesting, Dean?" Sam asked, sounding slightly insulted by the implied insinuations.

"Yes, Dean," Cas confirmed, not acknowledging Sam's words at all, "It was in Sam's blood. Sam's, all along, from day one; not the demon blood. In fact, quite the contrary, it was meant to be able to detect demonic blood so that if he was still infected with it…he'd be killed anyway. Because there would be nothing in him that would still be human. And, killing one bad guy to have still another would have been pointless. If he still had the demon blood in him, he'd be dead right now. That sword was our confirmation…it's Sam. It's really Sam. Human…Sam; your brother…Sam."

"Fantastic," Dean said, in a toneless almost emotionless voice.

There was a long moment of silence—awkward and pissed-off (there tended to be a pattern emerging here)—before Sam finally said, "Dean—"

"Don't." Dean cut him off immediately, already knowing what was coming, "Just…don't. Do not…say it."

"You don't even know what I'm gonna say," Sam said defensively.

"I don't have to know, Sammy, it's written all over your damn face, man. It's in your eyes. You're so sorry, you wish you could take it all back, blah blah blah; we're going in damn circles here, Sam. It's the same conversation. Just over and over again. I think I've got 'em memorized by now, save me the agony, huh?"

Dean avoided Sam's eyes, knowing that if he met them, he would be met with that Sammy-face, which would just wind up making him feel guilty. God, he hated that damn face; it got Sam anywhere, let him do anything. He could really take advantage of women using that face, Dean had no idea why the hell he didn't. He should've.

But, that was besides the point right now.

Focus, Dean, he slightly chastised himself, just waiting for Sam's argument to rear its ugly head.

Any minute now…

It never came.

Huh. Well, that's different.

Dean's eyes actually drifted over to Sam, just out of curiosity, and what he saw shocked the hell out of him.

Sam was leaning the side of his head miserably against the window—which by the way, was freakin' freezing—and squeezing his eyes tightly shut, as he clutched his hands together so hard they were shaking.

Before Dean could ask what was wrong, though, Sam spoke the words Dean never expected to hear from his lips in a million years: "You're right."

The words were filled with such self-loathing and pain and fear, that Dean actually winced slightly.

With a great deal of effort, Sam's eyes jerked open and he shook his head, digging his nails into his hands to stop them from shaking. "You're right." He said, slightly louder, though it was still only just barely above a whisper, "Dean, I know you're right. You always are."

He chuckled, sounding almost delirious, before continuing on. "I can't…say or do anything that will ever make things right between us again. I screwed up. Big-time screwed up. And, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much I wish to God that it would just go away and that I could have my brother back…I can't. I know that. And, it kills me. Every time I think about it, I just—"

Sam cut himself off, not knowing how to go on and certainly knowing that no amount of going on would ever make a damn thing better. It'd only make matters worse, so why the hell even bother with it?

"Lose your Y-chromosome," Dean suggested, with a slight smirk, "Gee, Sammy, you keep this crap up and one of these days, your balls are just gonna spontaneously fall off; that's implying, of course, that you actually have any."

"Dean, would you please cut it out," Sam said, appalled by Dean's sarcasm in such a serious matter. "My God, what is the matter with you?"

"Sam—" Dean began, but Sam now cut him off.

"No, don't 'Sam' me, Dean! We are talking about this right now, okay? I can't; I can't put it off any longer. Our putting this very conversation on hold to begin with was what actually resulted in the apocalypse, you know it is. Had we just had the guts to have this conversation from day one, we might actually have been able to avoid it."

"Okay. Fine," Dean said, his voice thick with sarcasm, "Let's have this very conversation, shall we? Hell was a bitch, Sam; I hated it. I tortured innocent souls and broke the first seal starting all this crap. 'That's okay, Dean, you didn't know. It's not your fault,' "Dean spoke for Sam too, trying to do an impersonation of his brother's voice.

" 'Dean, I turned myself into some demon whore's little whipped blood bitch and killed Lilith. Which by the by, broke the last seal and set Lucifer free. Boy, never saw that one coming, huh? And, I chose the evil bitch face demon over you, tried to kill you, and oh, yeah, I also became Lucifer's bitch too, but I didn't know what the hell I was doing.' "

"That's okay, Sam, you didn't know," Dean continued on, now going on to play his role in this, "It's not your fault that you stabbed me in the back; I am so sorry that my back was a terrible inconvenience as to hurt your knife. And, it's fine because no matter how many times you try to take my freakin' head off for the next demon bitch that comes along, I still have to look out for you and I still have to protect you because you're my damn brother."

He hesitated for a moment, to let Sam know that he was done with that part of it. "That sound about right?" He asked, sarcastically, "Did I, uh, leave out any important details? Does that mean I get the damn trophy at the freakin' Oscars then or what?"

Sam just stared at Dean, miserably, for a moment, trying to analyze his words and find something, anything appropriate to say to that. God, there was nothing to say. He knew that. And, that was what scared him the most.

Knowing, having to accept the fact, that this very well might be the last conversation he would ever have with his brother. Chances were quite high that Dean wouldn't be sticking around anymore, all things considered.

Not that Sam blamed him, really, but how the hell was he supposed to say good-bye to the one person that had always been there for him his entire life? He didn't know how to live without his big brother; Dean had always, always been there for him, no matter how bad the circumstances got. How could Sam just deal with that changing so suddenly; how could he handle losing his big brother…for good?

Oh, God…how Sam so wished he could just shrivel up and die. Maybe that could end the gut-wrenching, endless pain he had brought upon himself with his betraying his brother. Anything to just make it go away.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dean said, sarcastically, as he noticed the look on Sam's face. "Was that rude? Did my little outburst destroy the hideousness that is our freakin' lives?"

"Dean—"

"Sam, I know, okay? You're sorry; find another damn tune to whistle while we work already, huh? This one's getting freakin' old. I'm tired of it, okay? I'm just freakin' tired of it. All of it."

"Yeah, I get that, Dean." Sam said, sounding a lot more assertive than Dean would've expected of him right now, all things considered. "Maybe you need to find a new tune of your own," he suggested. "Yeah, you're tired. We all are. I am sick and tired of this life just as much as you are, neither of us signed on for this gig willingly, Dean."

"Oh, is this the part where Dad's name comes up and we try to deny how much we resent him for setting us up for this destiny; this life? See, Sammy, told you. Got it down, pat. In fact, sometimes I even live these damn conversations in my freakin' dreams; I just…want it all to go…away."

"Including me," Sam suggested, sounding so pained by the concept that Dean immediately regretted his words.

Dean turned his eyes towards the open road once again, before saying, to Cas, "Cas, can you give me a moment alone with my brother?"

There was no answer. He didn't even have to look up to know that the second the words had left his lips, Cas had immediately obliged to respect Dean's wishes. They both knew they would meet up again as soon as they could, but for now, Dean had to just get this damn thing done and over with right here, right now, before he went insane from Sam's freakin' nagging.

The wheel jerked in Dean's hands as he swerved over to the shoulder of the road before screeching to a stop. He turned off the ignition before getting out of the car and gesturing for Sam to do the same.

He waited for Sam to oblige, before saying, "All right, Sam, let's do this. Let's talk; let's get everything out in the freakin' open. Where should we start, hmm? You decide, I'll just go along with it, I don't really have a preference. It's all the same to me."

"All right then." Sam said, but his expression now distorted into one of frustration and hurt. Almost betrayal. God, the nerve; he really had the balls to look betrayed now. After all he did in this mess. "Let's start with you and Cas."

"Yeah? What about me and Cas?" Dean decided to play dumb, just to see if Sam really knew or if he just suspected something.

"Oh, don't you do that," Sam said, pointing an accusing finger at Dean, as he advanced towards him, walking around the hood of the car so that he could be closer to Dean. "Don't you lie to me; what do you think I am, an idiot?"

"Well, if you really wanna know—" Dean began with a grin, but Sam cut him off.

"Don't! Just stop it. Dean, I know, okay? What the hell; you're having sex with Cas. Why? What; women don't get the job done for you anymore or what?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Oh, Sam, stop it. You're delusional."

"Am I? Really?" Sam challenged, "What; so you're saying I just imagined what I've seen the past couple of days?"

"Your perception has been quite a bit altered from having freakin' Lucifer in you, Sam. What; you don't think he screwed with your mind a little here and there to turn you against me?"

"No…I don't. Because, believe me when I say, Dean, that as bad as it was and as much as Lucifer did try to alter for me—my perception of right and wrong, my perception of what needed to be done—no way in hell could he ever alter that particular perception, Dean. That perception wasn't even completely revealed to me until I saw it through his eyes. I saw you, Dean; I saw both of you. You…"

Sam stopped, grimacing slightly before saying his next words, "…you love him." He sounded disgusted and completely repulsed by the idea.

Dean flinched slightly, but neither confirmed nor denied the claim.

"Oh, my…God," Sam choked out, staggering backwards away from Dean, as he held his stomach, looking as if he was about to throw up.

"Sam!" Dean said, frustrated, "Oh, come on, what is this, huh?! Where do you get off…judging me anyway?"

"Oh, God," Sam said, his voice shaking as he spoke, "So…it's true then. You are." There was a long moment of silence before he said, "God, Dean! I think I get off judging you when started getting off on having sex with angels."

"Hey!" Dean said, defensively, "I had sex with Anna; she was an angel. What makes Cas so different?"

Sam laughed once, utterly appalled and disgusted by this, "For one, she wasn't even really an angel, Dean. She was a human that had used to be an angel. She was technically an ex-angel and full-on human."

"Yeah, so, if you're gonna use that argument, then technically, Cas isn't an angel anymore, 'member? He rebelled…for us. For me. Not exactly something I can just forget so easily, you know?"

"Right, so you decide to reward the man with sex?!" Sam nearly yelled, "Maybe that, right there, is the bottom line, Dean. He's…a man."

"Yeah?...and?...not like you had a problem with my hooking up with Anna."

"Yeah, but this isn't even hooking up, Dean. It's deeper than that, isn't it? You feel something stronger for him, don't you?"

"He pulled me out of hell, Sammy; of course I feel something quite strong and powerful for him."

"That, I get, but I just don't how sex falls anywhere in that damn connection of yours, Dean."

"Why are you freaking out over this, Sam?!"

"Because it isn't you, Dean! This…it's not you. It's not my brother."

"God, Sammy, homophobic much," Dean said, with a laugh.

"Hardly, and that is so beyond the point, Dean, and you know it."

"No, I don't know it." Dean said, irritably, "What I know…is that while this might be a lot for you to take in…it shouldn't matter, Sammy. I'm still your brother. You should want me to be happy, damn it, why are you so damn adamant about that happening? Why are you so against it? Is it really so bad?"

Sam considered that, hearing the underlying pleading note in Dean's voice, before answering him. "No…it's not. I just…you can't expect me to just accept it just like that. It's not easy for me to deal with this kind of change, come on, you have to understand that.

Sam stopped for a moment, considering his words further before actually speaking them. "Dean, I want you to be happy, you know I do. I mean…yeah, you're my brother and aside from keeping the world safe from evil on a daily freakin' basis…your happiness is one of the most important things to me. But, I just—God, I can't really handle this so soon."

Dean hesitated before stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. "No one ever said you have to handle it right now, Sam. You just have to accept it."

Sam nodded slightly, before forcing himself to meet Dean's eyes, "So, you do then?...you do love him?"

Dean forced a nod, before saying, "I do." He expected it sound weird or wrong, but…it didn't. In fact, no words had ever sounded more right before in his life. Oh, dear God, he really was becoming a woman now. Sam nodded again. "Then, I'm happy for you. Just so long as you don't try anything around me…then by all means, please, it's none of my business. And, that's the way I like it. That's the way I want it."

"Sound a little freaked out, Sam?" Dean said, sounding slightly amused, "What's your deal?"

Sam shook his head, but the look on his face was just too damn contradictory that Dean had no choice but to push. "What?"

"Trust me, dude, you do not want to know." Sam shuddered, not saying the words.

"Dude, just tell me or you know I'm not gonna shut up about it until you do." Dean said, with a smile.

Sam hesitated before looking away and saying, "Um…when I was…um, Lucifer…he, um kind-of-sort-of, planted images into Cas' head…to make him think that you and I were…um…kinda gettin' our happies with each other, if you get my, um…my gist here. Please, God, do not make me say the words."

Even Dean grimaced and shuddered with that. "Ugh, God. What is everyone's obsession with you and me, man? Everywhere we freakin' go, people assume we've reverted back to biblical times…if the dudes were having sex with their brothers as opposed to their sisters, of course. Biblically…speaking, of course."

Sam snorted, "You haven't touched a bible in your life, Dean, how do you know anything written in it?"

Dean shrugged, "I don't. Not really. This is just my assumptions to have a good analogy for the situation, stop screwing it up, will you?"

Sam held up his hands in a surrendering motion, "Sorry, dude, didn't realize. My bad. Ha-ha. Hilarious. But, don't ever, ever, ever make another analogy like that one involving you and me, okay?"

Dean rolled his eyes and smacked Sam's arms, "God, dude, that's gross. Disgusting as I might be, even I have some standards here, give me some credit."

"Right." Sam said, with a slight smile, "Standards. You…totally have them. Sorry 'bout that."

"Yeah," Dean said, sarcastically, his smile fading a little, " 'Sorry 'bout that.' You've been using those words a lot lately, haven't you, Sammy? 'Sorry 'bout that'. In fact, I think it qualifies as your new philosophy in life, you know?"

Now, Sam's smile faded. "Dean—"

"Oh, God, here it comes. All right, Sam, let's hear you try to justify one more mistake that you've made to me. Because you know, the last justifications were just dandy, so this one oughtta be top-notch."

"No, Dean. I'm not going to try to justify a damn thing to you," Sam corrected, "There is absolutely nothing I can say or do that will ever justify what I did. I know that."

Dean waited for Sam to continue on, but when he didn't, Dean grimaced, "That's it? That's your big apology for everything? For all the hell you've put me through—that's not including the actual hell I put myself through for you, which by the way, I still have not heard so much as a freakin' thank-you for that."

Sam forced out a chuckle, " 'Thank you, Dean?' "

"Aw, you're welcome, Sammy," Dean said, sarcastically, clapping him on the back, before going to turn around and walk away. "So glad we had this talk."

Sam grabbed Dean's arm, jerking him back around to face him, "No, we are not done yet, Dean. That was not gratitude; that was disbelief. How can you really expect me to thank you after that?"

Dean shrugged, "The same way you expected me to thank you after you tried to freakin' off me, chose Ruby over me, and oh, yes, killed Lilith, brought on the freakin' apocalypse, and let Lucifer take you over. Seems like a fair trade to me, don't you think?"

"Hardly," Sam said, through clenched teeth, his nails digging hard into Dean's forearm in his frustration. "Look, Dean, you want me to say it? I messed up."

"You really think messed up covers it, Sam?" Dean shook his head.

"No. I don't." Sam admitted, shaking his own head. "There's…there is no word big enough to do what I did justice, Dean. And, you know what, if I could, I would do anything to have Cas turn back the clock so that I can go back to the second Ruby came into my life so that I could've killed the bitch right then and there. Yeah, it might not have changed a thing since it was apparently written in the stars, but it would've made me feel a hell of a lot better anyway."

Dean rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything, so Sam just continued on. "Dean…look, man, I'm sorry. I am…so, so sorry. And, you know what, I can sit here and say those damn words until I am blue in the face and it still will not make a difference. I still ended the world, I still betrayed you, and you still hate me, so…that's why it kills me to have to look you in the eyes after everything I've done."

Sam hung his head in shame and turned away, so as to get as far away from Dean as he could.

Dean waited a moment before rolling his eyes and saying, "I don't…hate you…Sammy. I just don't trust you. I told you that."

"Same difference," Sam mumbled to himself, though Dean heard it.

"No, it's not. See, I kill the things I hate. I didn't kill you, I couldn't. Even if I wanted to. I trust you remember that conversation between me and Lucifer, yes."

"Maybe you should," Sam suggested, mostly to himself, but Dean immediately stiffened up.

"What?" Dean's voice was hard.

"Maybe you should," Sam repeated, now turning to face Dean.

"Hate you?" Dean asked, praying to God he didn't mean the other one.

"No," Sam said, immediately confirming the worst of Dean's fears, "Kill me. Maybe you should…kill me."

Dean struggled to not get pissed off just yet. "Mm-hmm. And, why exactly would I do that?"

"Why wouldn't you do that?" Sam challenged, "I think, after all I've done, I deserve it. And, if anyone had a right to do the deed, Dean, it should be obvious that that would be you."

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes, "God, shut up, Sam. I'm not gonna kill you, okay? Not all of us lash out and try to kill people just because we're pissed off, okay? Unlike you…I actually can practice some self-control."

"This isn't about self-control, Dean. Not anymore. I've crossed the line. I know that. Now you have to know that too…and realize that…it has to be done now. There's just no coming back from this…no matter what."

"Oh…my…God, Sam. Is that really the crap you're pitching me right now?" Dean said, sounding almost amused. "What; poor-pitiful-little-picked-on-you? You screwed up, I kill you, and then what, huh? What happens to me then?"

"Dean, don't…do this," Sam said, miserably, "I'm not pitching anything, I'm just saying that maybe it would be better for all of us if you'd just—"

"No." Dean interrupted, leaving no room for debate, "I can't kill you, I won't. You kinda missed the punch line, didn't you? Dad said to kill you only if I couldn't save you. Well, if I'm not mistaken, I just saved your ass. I saved you from Lucifer; if that doesn't qualify as ultimately saving you, then I don't know what the hell does.

"What I do know is that if I kill you now…it wouldn't be for the greater good. It wouldn't be saving you, Sam, it would be cold blood. It would be for revenge. And, that's something I'd rather avoid if I could, you know. Revenge never seems to work out too well for us."

"Dean—"

"No, Sam. No. Just knock it off, this martyr routine is really pissin' me off."

"It's not a martyr routine, Dean—"

"Then what is it!" Dean nearly yelled. "I mean, God, Sam. Not all of us think and act like you do. Your first instinct nowadays is to just jump in and kill without questions or thought."

"That used to be your first instinct, too." Sam reminded him.

"Not…this. Not when it comes to this. Not when it's about the life of my brother, and you know you would be just as hesitant to do it if it was me asking you to kill me. Right now, anyway, a year ago, you'd've been all gung-ho for it, but I'm not dwelling."

"Go ahead, dwell." Sam said, with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Dwell all you want to, I deserve it. I deserve…God, there is no word. I deserve the worst of the worst punishment but even I know that the worst of the worst punishment still won't be bad enough for what I did."

"Not a martyr routine, huh?" Dean challenged, "Sounds like martyrdom if I've ever heard one."

"No, it's not. It's just…it's something that needs to be done. I accept that. And you have to, too. But, you won't, will you? Ever?"

"Not in a million years, Sammy." Dean said, stopping to let Sam smile slightly before continuing on, "Because it's all one big…fat…piece of crap. You don't have to die to compensate for your mistakes, Sam. That's taking the easy way out, and you know it. It's not getting what you deserve; getting what you deserve is staying here and having to learn to deal with it. To make up for your mistakes however it works. Won't be easy, but it will be necessary."

"Dean, you don't…understand. You couldn't possibly understand." Sam said, shaking his head, "It's not that simple."

"Isn't it?" Dean challenged, "It could be. Sam, for the last time, man, I don't hate you. I don't. When Cain killed Abel, I'm pretty sure that Abel still loved him to some extent, no? I mean…he was his brother. Nothing could change that. Even if he did kill him. Yeah, that changed their relationship with one another, but something tells me that Abel wasn't the type to hate his brother…no matter what he might've done to him."

Sam snorted, but it sounded more like a choked sob, "Are you comparing me to Cain, Dean?"

"Yeah, sorry, that wasn't really a good comparison, I guess. I'm sorry. It was just the only one I could think of on the spot." He frowned slightly with his frustration. "The point…Sammy, is that yeah, go ahead kill me. Whatever. I've accepted the fact that…you aren't the same Sammy I grew up with. You aren't the same Sam that joined me from Stanford. You aren't exactly my little brother anymore. You…don't need me anymore. I get that. Very good."

Though Dean tried to hide his emotions from his voice, Sam could easily see how much this hurt him. "No…" Sam choked out, shaking his head, and placing a hand comfortingly on Dean's arm. "Dean, that's not—that's not true, man. I will always…need you."

Dean waited for him to continue on, but he never did so he snorted, "Well, that's real convincing, Sammy. Thanks."

"No. Dean…you're my big brother. And, just because…for once I don't exactly need you breathing down my neck trying to protect me and keep me safe…that doesn't mean that I don't need you…just…for you. Just for being my big brother."

"Right," Dean said, sounding a lot more disappointed by that than he should've. "But…looking out for you, Sammy, has been my life's freakin' purpose. I don't know how to not worry about you, you know?"

"And, that's good." Sam assured him, "You shouldn't stop worrying about me; I hope you never do. I know I never stop worrying about you either."

"Yeah, but at least you have something else to live for. I don't. I don't know what else I'm good for. If I'm not here to keep you safe, then I don't know why I'm here really." Dean turned his head away in embarrassment for having revealed so much of himself.

"Dean—"

"Sam, please don't." Dean's voice was strained. "I can't—can't handle this right now on top of everything else. It's just too much."

"Dean, can you please just, for once, hear me out? And, not make some sarcastic joke about it?"

Dean's silence gave Sam all he needed to go on. "Dean, what exactly else do I have to live for, man? Aside from you and hunting…I have no life." Sam laughed once, sounding delirious. "Yeah, I've always wanted normal and mundane for a life, sure, but…it won't happen for us. Ever. And…so long as I'm trapped in this life against my will, might as well be trapped in it with you."

"Is that supposed to be making me feel better?" Dean said, sounding slightly miserable.

"I don't know, give me a minute. I'm working up to it, I'm just makin' this up as I go along. Not everyone has time to rehearse their noble speeches, 'kay? Just go with me on this."

Dean snorted.

"Look, Dean, hands down, straight out: our lives suck. They do. But, do you have any idea how much more my life would suck without you in it? It sure as hell wasn't exactly Christmas morning for me, if you get what I'm saying here.

"You…have given everything for me. There is nothing you have not sacrificed for my sake and while I am forever grateful for that, it's my turn to look out for you. You've had the role of the older brother who takes care of everything and who's always in charge for so long that maybe it's time I get to sacrifice myself for you."

"Meaning what exactly? The last time you tried sacrificing yourself, Sammy, you wound up sacrificing the whole freakin' world as a result."

"See," Sam pointed out, sounding almost triumphant, "When I said there was nothing I wouldn't do for you, I meant it. I sacrificed the world for you. Of course I didn't realize I was doing it, and yeah, if I knew what would happen, God knows I wouldn't have done it, but still. Gotta say something about how much you mean to me, am I right?"

Dean rolled his eyes, but a slight smile played on his lips, contradicting the act he tried to put on.

Sam smiled and said, "The point is that…it's my turn to watch out for you, Dean. You've been looking out for my ass my whole life; is it so wrong that I want to return the favor? Dean, I just want—no, I need you to be happy. Or as happy as you can be. And damn it, Dean, for once I assure you, I am going to make that happen. I promise you."

"Right. Return the favor. Great. But, at what cost, Sammy? What; the cost of your life. The cost of the world. The cost of Lucifer being unleashed onto mankind."

"To name a few," Sam said, but the misery was clear in his words. "Dean, you have to know, I never meant to hurt anyone. I never set out to—"

"Yeah, I know you didn't, Sam," Dean interrupted him. "And, that's the problem. You…were just looking out for me…and look what happened as a result."

Sam grimaced painfully, before looking away, unable to meet Dean's gaze now. "Dean, please."

Dean shook his head, "Now, I can understand the whole apocalypse and unleashing Lucifer thing, because you didn't mean to do it. You didn't know what you were doing, I can't blame you for that. Not saying I understand the whole trying to kill me and the whole demon blood thing, though, cause that's one concept that will always be lost on me, but…nonetheless, I can let it go. I can deal with it. I've had a lot of crap to deal with in my life, Sam, this is hardly the worst of it."

Sam closed his eyes, anticipating the "but". "But?..." He pushed, urging for him to continue on, already expecting the worst of the worst.

"But…saying yes, Sammy?" Dean's voice cracked slightly with emotion, "How can you really expect me to understand that? How could you do that; how could let Lucifer take you over? Am I really so damn hard to live with; were you trying to prove a point or something? You want your independence from me that badly?"

"No, Dean, it wasn't like that at all. I swear to God, it was not…like that…at all. It—I just—God, I can't explain it."

"Well, that works out nicely because chances are, no matter what you say, I still won't get it."

"I don't expect you to, Dean. I don't want you to. I don't even want to; I just—it wasn't me. I don't know, something happened when you—"

"When I what?" Dean challenged, angrily, sensing the blame about to fall on him now.

"When you refused to help me. After I told you about Lucifer, and my being his vessel, and you said no. You wouldn't help me." Sam shook his head, tears threatening to fill his eyes.

"You…wouldn't; you left me there all alone and I couldn't—I didn't know how to fight it…without you. Dean, I have had you…my entire…life. And when you left, when you wouldn't help me…I lost it. I didn't know…what else to do. I agreed to consent because…I thought I had lost you for good, Dean. There was no point to fighting the damn inevitable without you. I could not…do it."

By the time Sam had stopped talking, he was already struggling to not break down and lose it. God, he could not cry, he wouldn't. If he did, Dean would never let him hear the end of it; he would…not…cry.

"You didn't want to do it," Dean corrected, sounding utterly disgusted, "My God, Sammy, how could you—I mean, after everything…we know full and well what you are capable of. So what; you were pissed at me so you decided to just destroy the freakin' world to get back at me?"

"No…it wasn't me. I told you. I was…gone; I don't know, I can't explain it, but I just—after you hung up…he showed up. He showed up…at my weakest moment and he used that to his advantage. He made me believe I was truly useless and nothing. He made me believe he could make me be something. God, I just wanted to be something. I had to be something. I just wanted it all to go away, and without you, I lost everything. I had nothing left to fight for. Nothing but the relief of my pain."

Dean grabbed him angrily by his jacket before slamming him against the Impala, not even thinking about the fact that he could've just killed his car. "You're an idiot, Sam." Dean accused.

"I know I am," Sam admitted, cringing away from Dean's look. The look of utter disappointment and betrayal. God, this was too much; he could not handle this.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, now collapsing against the Impala, as he struggled to not cry, but it was getting a hell of a lot harder to hold it in now. "God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. God, I screwed everything up…so bad."

"Yeah, you know what? You did," Dean said, angrily, before grabbing Sam again and ripping him up, pinning him against the car again. "You really screwed up. Big time. But, that is hardly the point anymore. You're using me…as an excuse."

"No, Dean, that's not what I—I would never do that." Sam denied.

"You're doing that right now. God, Sammy, what the hell am I—where exactly are we supposed to go from here, huh?"

"I don't…know, Dean," Sam choked out, miserably.

"Well, neither do I," Dean said, after a long moment, before releasing Sam, pushing him even further against the Impala before taking several steps away from Sam, needing to just not be near him right now.

"Dean," Sam said, once he was sure Dean wouldn't try to stop him. "I'm sorry. You have no idea how bad I feel for what I've done. God, I wish it would just go away. But, it won't. And, I hate it. I hate it so much. You are all that I have left, Dean, and I single-handedly destroyed whatever relationship we had. You have no idea how disgusted I am with myself, how bad I hurt every day for knowing that."

Dean rolled his eyes, "God, Sam, what do you want from me, huh? What; you want me to say that it's okay? You want my sympathy? I don't get it; I mean, just, what? What? What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing," Sam nearly yelled, and he turned his head away again, "Nothing, Dean. You don't—I don't want anything from you; I have no right…to ask anything of you."

"Then, why are you telling me this?"

"Because, I just need to know where I stand with you, Dean!" Sam blurted out, without thinking, "If I'm still even considered your brother or if I'm as beneath you as I feel I am. I just want to know…if I should even bother sticking around after what I've done or if you'd rather just…I don't know, pretend I don't exist. Couldn't say I'd blame you if you did. Hell, even I want to do that sometimes. It'd be nice to not exist for a while, you know? To just…be nothing."

Dean hesitated a moment before slowly approaching Sam and placing a trembling hand on his shoulder. "Sammy…" his own voice was thick with emotion, despite his better judgment.

He cleared his throat before continuing on, "You are not…nothing. No matter what you do, what dumb-ass decisions you make—whether to get back at me or whatever your reasoning might be—you are still my little brother, Sam. Even when you were possessed by Lucifer, I still wouldn't kill you even if I had the means to do it, you know that. Yeah, I'm pissed at you, and yeah, you made some terrible decisions, sure. But, that doesn't change anything really. It doesn't change the fact that I still need to look out for you.

"I'm not saying that everything's gonna be fine all of a sudden, though, it's gonna take time. A lot of time. And, I know that I said things never could be as they were between us, but now…after what I just saw, I know that that's a lie. Yeah, it's gonna be a bitch, but we can get there, Sammy. We can. Someday."

Sam looked down, as he nodded, but the slightest of smiles threatened to twitch on the corners of his lips, as he took that in. "Good. I hope so, Dean. I truly do."

Dean smiled and clapped Sam on the shoulder before saying, "Besides you make that face of yours, you can get anything, and you know it too, damn it."

"What face?" Sam asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"That…damn…Sammy face of yours," Dean told him, gesturing towards him, "The puppy-dog eyes, the look of utter devastation. I'm telling you, it's like the million-dollar face. Don't act like you don't know about it, you use it all the freakin' time; I know you know about it."

Sam allowed himself to smile, but even so it was still quite sad. "I didn't, actually, but I'll be sure to use it to my advantage in the future."

Dean shook his head, "And, I'll use my devastatingly amazing good looks; we're the perfect team. See, that right there is why you can't leave me, man. Sure, I'm damn good and beyond amazing without you, but together, we kick ourselves a lot of ass. You ain't gettin' away that easily, understood? Just cause you nearly ended the world," Dean blew a raspberry. "That's a bunch of crap. We've all been there before, Sammy. Mistake after mistake, it's all part of being human. You take the crap, you deal with it, and you move on. That doesn't change who you are, though. Who we are."

"Unfortunately," Sam said, with a laugh.

Dean narrowed his eyes at him. "I'm taking that as a compliment," Dean said, accusingly.

"You should," Sam said, regarding Dean with an admiring look. "I meant the unfortunately on my part, not yours. You're the fortunately in this gig."

Dean snorted, "Oh, Sammy, you do know how to work the flattery quite well, my brother. Again I say, why you refuse to use it to your advantage against women is beyond me."

Sam rolled his eyes, and Dean said, "Besides…you're not too much with unfortunately. Just your decisions are. You are still one of my favorite people in the whole word, Sammy. Nothing changes that. You know that, don't you?"

"I do now," Sam said, closing his eyes in relief, breathing a chuckle. "Good to know. Considering, you know…"

"Well, I'll admit, I have a lot to consider. A hell of a lot more than I bargained for, but can't do a thing about it, but just…deal. You know? There's nothing really to do. But, just allow that luxury of time to work its magic and voila…one day, you'll wake up and regain my complete trust again. I know you will."

Sam ignored the gut-wrenching pain and nodded, "Hope I don't disappoint."

"You won't," Dean said, sounding so sure that his words themselves gave Sam some strength to believe he could do this himself.

"I won't let you. Cause if you try anything like this again…I will rough you up all kinds of hard-core, showing no mercy this time, 'kay? I'm talkin' beat your ass to a bloody pulp. And, then point and laugh hysterically at you. So let's just leave that particular image in my imagination, can we? And, just…move on. Forget as much as we can as long as we can until it is truly forgotten."

Sam nodded, " 'Kay. I can do that."

"Then, let's can do that, huh? And, uh…" Dean tossed him the keys to the Impala. "Don't go too far, Sammy. Might need you nearby in case I need a shoulder to cry on or an ass to kick." Dean raised his eyebrows, with a smirk.

"Well, where are you gonna—" Sam caught himself, upon seeing the eagerness on Dean's face. "Oh. Got it. God, that is definitely gonna take some getting used to."

"Tell me about it," Dean said, with a laugh, "Even I don't fully believe it, but…I don't know, it works for me anyway."

Sam smiled, and shook his head, "See you in a few then?"

"Count on it," Dean said, with a nod of his head. Days, he thought to himself, since hours would be nowhere near enough time to compensate for the time lost. But, he kept that part to himself so as to not freak Sam out anymore than he already had.

"All right." Sam opened the driver door and gripped the top of the door, before saying, "Peace out…jerk."

Dean nodded his head, in acknowledgement, "A-town, bitch." Dean said, making Sam snort.

Sam got in the car, slammed the door, and within seconds, he was taking off in the other direction.

"Take it you caught the freakin' novella that is my life, huh?" Dean said, not even having to turn around to know Cas was there.

"I was…nearby in case you…needed a shoulder to cry on or you know…an ass to…kiss, anyway."

Dean turned around, stifling a smile at Cas' deadpan expression to go with that sarcasm of his.

"I wanted to be sure you would be okay. That couldn't have been easy for you." Boy, did Cas know him well.

"It's about to get a hell of a lot easier," Dean said, advancing towards him.

Suddenly, without so much as a warning or a blink of the freakin' eye…

…they were gone. Disappeared on the spot. Damn, and Dean thought that silence was a bitch; it was nothing compared to how bitchy this damn foreplay was. God, what…a freaking…bitch!

"Cas!" Dean complained, sounding quite frustrated, once he came to a standstill and the world was no longer spinning into a zillion random dots before his eyes, blinding him and making him very disoriented. "What the hell have I told you about—" He stopped, upon seeing where they were.

"Where the…hell are we?" He looked around frantically, recognizing it but not believing it.

"You know…where we are, Dean. I know you do." Cas said, waiting patiently for Dean to catch on. "You have to know where we are."

Yeah, Dean did know, but he sure as hell didn't believe it. It very much resembled the barn they had just left, but it was also very much destroyed. It barely had enough to hold itself up, collapsed pillars, a caved in ceiling, sheetrock and large chunks and pieces of the walls themselves strewn all about the room, in a chaotic haphazard manner, to say the very freakin' least.

"Holy crap," he muttered, kind of afraid to move in case it caved in even more and crushed him or something. "The…the barn?..." he asked, though he knew good and well that it was.

"Yes," Cas confirmed, placing a hand softly on Dean's arm, "The barn. Our barn. Technically, anyway."

"Right…and what? Lucifer was blown away by the freakin' whirlwind of doom or something? What's up with the whole cavin'-in crap; you'd think the job could've gotten done with the place still remaining at least somewhat close to tidy and spic-and-span, you know?"

Cas smirked slightly, before saying, with a shrug, "You're right. It could've. But, what fun would that have been, really?"

"What fun would what have been?" Dean challenged, looking confused, though he had a pretty damn good idea of what that "what" was.

With nothing more than a suggestive smirk and intense eye contact, Cas jerked Dean towards him by his jacket before almost simultaneously ripping it off and throwing Dean into the debris.

Dean grunted slightly in surprise, but very much welcomed this new aggressive side of Cas, as Cas practically lunged for him.

"Holy—" Dean cried out, as Cas' body collided hard against his, "Oh, for the love of God!" His voice nearly cracked with how turned on he was in those mere seconds. "Oh, God, Cas."

Cas' lips were suddenly crushed against Dean's, immediately shutting him the hell up, and when he finally did pull away, he said, his voice very breathless and strained, "Do not…say my name. Not yet."

"Cas?" Dean asked, wondering why Cas was suddenly being so hard-core, but this time, Cas' hand immediately groped him to shut him up.

Dean's strained yelp told Cas that it worked. His hand tightened around him, squeezing him hard through his jeans, but it was still more than enough to make Dean feel like he was about to freakin' die.

"I said…don't…say…my name yet. Do I have to write it down for you?" His voice sounded hard and angry but the suggestive look he regarded Dean with let Dean know that he was just freakishly horny.

Playing along, Dean shifted his weight, arching his back and moving against Cas so that Cas' pressure increased on him without even trying, as he gasped out a choked, "You just might have to…write…something." A smirk played on Dean's lips, though it was very weak, since he didn't have the strength to maintain a full smile right now.

Cas raised an eyebrow, and watched as Dean fingered the flaps of his trench coat, toying with the idea of removing it, but not quite giving Cas what he wanted just yet.

"Maybe I will," Cas suggested, bending down until his lips hovered mere centimeters from Dean's, but he froze up just before they touched. "But, on my terms, Dean. Mine, you understand me? Not yours."

"Something tells me that your terms are very similar to mine, Cas." God, Dean could not talk right now; it took every ounce of strength and concentration he had to put his very muddled thoughts and desires into coherent words.

"Something tells me…you are a lot more impatient that you let on." Cas teased as he slowly pulled away, leaving Dean's lips burning with the desire to having Cas' lips on him right then.

"Meaning?"

"Wait," Cas said, softly, as he made to remove his trench coat.

Then, very painfully slowly, he removed his shirt tracing his fingertips down the skin of his chest to spur Dean on without actually giving him what it was he wanted.

His fingers traced their way up and down his bare skin. His arms. His chest. His waist. The distinctions of his six-pack. The perfect line down the center of his chest. Up to his pecs. His neck. His shoulders. And, then repeating the process over and over again until Dean couldn't take it anymore.

Dean's fingers reached to touch that skin, but his wrist was caught hold of and restrained easily by Cas. "Don't…touch. Don't do anything…until I tell you to."

Dean obliged, anxious and excited by the idea of having such kinky hard-core sex with Cas taking the wheel.

"My clothes?..." Dean challenged, knowing very well that Cas wanted them off.

"Stay on…until I want them off." Cas commanded. God, there was something so much more exhilarating about him when he was assertive like this.

"As you wish," Dean relented, lying back and shifting his weight so that he could still feel Cas against him very much so without getting in trouble with Cas for feeling too much of him.

Cas noticed his tie, poking out of Dean's pocket. Oh, God. The tie. He would never look at that tie the same way ever, ever again. Every time he did, he flared up into a million flames of nothing but desire and lust for heat, sex, and Dean.

Cas tugged out the tie and stretched it out so he could examine it closer. It was stained with evidence of both his and Dean's using it—and overusing it—again and again—but God, was it still very much arousing to see that.

"Interesting," Cas said, sounding so much like his future self did when he said that word that Dean felt as if he would explode right then and there.

"God, Cas…I can't—I can't take it anymore—"

"Quiet," Cas said, exhibiting such force and such power with that one word that Dean immediately obliged, both kind of scared to challenge Cas and also kind of anxious to see what Cas would do if he didn't.

God, the internal struggle was too much. It was tormenting him; eating him up inside. And, damn it, the only person he wanted to eat him up inside was Cas. No one else was worthy of such a deed; not anymore.

Dean stared up at Cas, anxiously awaiting what he would do, his eyes just fixated on Cas and his expression, which was completely unreadable.

Cas was studying that tie so intensely, so deep in thought that Dean felt he would die not knowing what was going through Cas' mind right now. The not knowing was just too much for him to take; it was very nearly excruciating.

It seemed like an agonizing for freakin' ever before Cas finally acted. And, what he did was so much more than Dean ever thought him capable of.

He grabbed Dean roughly by his shirt, yanking him up towards him, and putting the tie in his mouth and tying it around his head…Cas gagged him.

Dean chuckled once, "Oh, kinky, Cas…" but it was muffled by the tie.

"Shut…up." Cas ordered, "No…talking, Dean."

Dean snorted, but Cas didn't acknowledge it as he raised himself slightly so that he was hovering above Dean. Not just that, but Dean's face was perfectly parallel with…Cas' pants. Not just his pants but his…special…area.

Dean whimpered in response to his lacking of being able to do anything good with this position.

"Don't," Cas commanded, not taking no for an answer here. Dean was going to do this Cas'way for once and Cas would not let Dean interfere with that. "You…do not make any sound…until I say…that you can…is that clear?"

All Dean could do now was scream, "Write it out for me," with his eyes and hope that Cas got the message.

Apparently, he did.

Without hesitation, Cas rose to his feet just enough so that he could easily undo his belt. Then, the button of his pants. Then, the zipper, which he undid so slowly that it was excruciating for Dean to watch, and he was pretty damn sure there was no pain worse than that.

That was, until Cas completely removed his pants, and within moments he was not only completely naked before Dean, but his hands moved slowly towards it and he began jerking off. Oh, God, how Dean so wished he could touch him…but he was a little scared to with how hard-core Cas was being.

Dean watched with utter fascination and arousal so great it was nearly intolerable for him, as Cas continued on. Stroking himself. Squeezing himself. Digging his nails hard into himself—so hard that Dean was shocked it didn't draw blood—and tilting his head backward in ecstasy. Moans and sighs and whimpers escaping his throat every so often.

At one point, just before Cas knew he was about to come, he grabbed Dean's hand, and taking one of Dean's trembling fingers, he stroked the length of himself before completely enclosing himself inside of Dean's hand, allowing Dean to massage him and relearn him, until he had only barely come out inside Dean's hand.

Right as it was about to get to the peak, Cas pulled Dean's hand away, and traced the tip of his tongue along the side of Dean's hand to lick himself off of Dean's skin, which was suddenly burning hot.

His tongue traced up the side of Dean's hand to his fingertips, which he took into his mouth before sucking each one clean .

When he released Dean's hand, it was glistening, both with Dean's sweat, Cas' saliva, and most importantly, the remainders of Cas…himself.

God, how Dean longed to suck the rest of that off himself, but he couldn't. And, the fact that he was gagged had nothing to do with it. He was just afraid that if he moved a muscle even in the slightest that Cas would lash out.

Not that that would a terrible horrendous thing, exactly, but it wasn't something he wanted to risk, since he had a feeling that Cas definitely not going to give him what he wanted just yet.

Placing his hands hard on Dean's chest to pin him down, Cas lowered himself on top of Dean so that he could now rub himself against Dean through his clothes. God, it was torture. It was torture; it was torture.

While it felt, oh so amazing, it was also oh, so suck-ish—and not in the good way—because as Cas shifted himself against Dean more and more, grinding against him until the friction caused a heat that would burst the sun itself into flames, and came and came and came hard and fast all over Dean's clothes…that was the only contact he would allow between the two of them.

He did this for God knew how long, before he rose to his feet again, resuming the position he was in before. Oh, God, what would he do now?

Smiling, Cas now took the liberty to remove Dean's shirt—which, by the way, was now completely, completely drenched in Cas—and instead of tossing it aside as Dean had expected, Cas instead tilted his head back, and his eyes fluttered open and shut in anticipation as he balled the shirt up in his hands and wrung it out so that the most of it went onto his face, running down his nose and lips and jaw line and throat, in lines so very much tempting to Dean.

In fact, unable to handle it anymore, Dean ripped off the tie and lunged forward to bury his face in Cas' neck, sucking off every last square inch of it that he could reach. His lips and tongue and teeth made their way across the skin of Cas' throat and face and even down to his shoulders until there was absolutely nothing left to suck off.

Cas didn't stop him, but rather allowed him to do this, pressing himself further against Dean and shifting himself to give Dean easier access.

Dean's lips eventually found Cas' and by that point, Cas had lose every will to pull away. He gave in and allowed Dean to kiss him.

Their lips and tongues explored the other's, memorizing the exact taste and feel of their lips upon each others, their tongues twining together. They eventually got so hard-core into it that their teeth were constantly colliding, yet neither one had the ability to pull away, despite the pain caused by the collision after collision. God, was it so worth it.

One of Cas' hands clutched desperately at Dean's waist, looking for a way—any way—to hold it just a little bit tighter, while his other hand rested on Dean's shoulder. That hand dragged passionately down Dean's pec, his nails digging deep into the flesh, actually leaving a trail of red nail marks behind it. It finally came to a stop just above Dean's thigh.

Dean's hands were simply everywhere. They were at no one particular spot, because they were just everywhere. Cas' back, his chest, his thighs, his stomach, his arms, his throat, his face…and then repeating the process over and over, taking in as much of Castiel as he possibly could.

Dean smeared what was remaining on Cas all over his skin, massaging it in with his fingertips, and then wiping it off with his fingers, his lips, his teeth, his tongue, anything he had handy to him at the time.

"God, Cas…God, Cas…God, Cas…" was all Dean could repeat deliriously, the words muffled by Cas' lips, his skin, Cas' very being. He would speak only in between kisses, or any other loophole he got, but primarily his goal was simple. Advantag-ize Cas in every way possible until stopped.

Which, shockingly, he never was. For a good long while, anyway. Dean was shocked by how long Cas allowed him to do this, actually. And, he did nothing but this. Again. And, again. And, again.

And, again. And, again. God, he lost count of just how many agains he managed to squeeze in before Cas finally did stop him.

Cas came to his senses—though, he had also come many other ways as well—and, with a growl, he grabbed Dean's wrists to hold him back, though he didn't actually push him away.

"What?..." Dean managed to cry out, deliriously.

"Did I say…you could do that?" Cas challenged, a look of feigned anger and frustration on his features.

"Didn't seem like you minded very much." God, his voice was so strained, so damn hoarse from this whole ordeal.

Grabbing Dean's shirt, which had been tossed aside, Cas ordered: "On your stomach, Dean. Right…now."

Dean immediately obliged, not knowing what to expect really, but knowing that it had to be damn, damn good.

Cas brought Dean's arms around, putting his wrists together before tying them together with the shirt. Then he looped an arm through Dean's arms and pulled him up towards him. He grabbed the tie, gagging him again.

"Oh, damn it," Dean mumbled, again muffled by the tie.

Beginning at Dean's wrists, Cas traced his hands upward to Dean's shoulders before tracing them back down and up several more times. Then, he slid his hands around to Dean's chest, holding Dean hard against him.

He leaned down to whisper roughly in Dean's ears, "Do…not…talk."

Then, burying his face in Dean's neck, the tip of his tongue came out to trace up the side of Dean's neck, before entering his ear.

Oh, dear God…

His tongue worked its way throughout Dean's ear, memorizing its exact taste, before nearly growling the words: "You…cannot…ever, ever…leave me. Do you understand? You are mine, you son of a bitch, mine!"

And, with that, Cas ripped off Dean's pants and slammed himself so hard into him that Dean actually arched his back and strained against Cas, as he let out a cry of actual pain.

Cas pounded himself harder into Dean. "You're mine!"

Clutching his shoulders hard, Cas used the resistance to push himself even further inside of Dean, as he released. Hot, hard, and fast.

Hot, hard, and fast.

Hot. Hard. And, fast.

Dean bit down on the tie hard, to keep from screaming, as he writhed in Cas' arms, shaking so hard and losing all control of his own body. It was no longer his body. It was Cas'. It belonged to Cas, and nothing else mattered.

Over and over, never ending. God, the best orgasms of both their lives combined in this one act.

"I love you," Cas snarled, now tangling his fingers with Dean's sweat-dampened hair, tugging hard at it as he ripped Dean's head up. "I love you. You can't…you can't leave me, Dean. You can't. God…I need you…"

Cas sounded on the verge of tears, but Dean was a little turned-on right now to notice. And, God, was it terrible. Here Dean was, coming and coming like he never had done before. He felt like some helpless, clueless, yet very hot virgin losing their virginity for the first time with someone so much hotter than them that they felt damn near inadequate.

God, he shouldn't feel inadequate. This was, after all, Dean freakin' Winchester—the man who had more sexual experience than ten, twenty whore houses combined.

Yet, something about this felt…like he wasn't good enough. Like something big time was missing, that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Maybe it was Cas. Something about sex with Cas was just so…different. So much more powerful. And, that intimidated the hell out of Dean without him even realizing it.

The only thing that bombed was that Dean couldn't enjoy his own release very much since he was tied up. Not even Cas was enjoying it. God, what a waste. Best orgasm of his f*cking life and it was going to waste. What a stupid—

Cas was suddenly rolling Dean over hard, draping his legs over his own shoulders, and running his hands tauntingly up the insides of Dean's legs before wrenching them apart and taking Dean in his mouth like there was no tomorrow.

He sucked and sucked until Dean was completely dried out, having nothing left inside of him to offer up. God, he felt like such a failure for that. But, on the bright side…

Cas shifted upward so that he was…touching himself to Dean's face as a way to tease him. Dean couldn't touch him, he couldn't give him oral, so all Dean could do was try not to die from ecstasy by bursting into flames. Cas shifted his weight so that he was pressing himself against Dean's face, running it against his skin.

He traced a circle around Dean's lips with it as a way to taunt him. It would get oh so close to actually going in, but no matter how hard Dean thrashed, no matter how many ways he turned his head searching desperately for it…it never paid off. Cas would pull away just as things would be about to get interesting.

Cas finally released Dean—both from this position and from his restraints—deciding he had suffered enough, and simply laid back, practically dead with how worn out he had become. Strange, considering he was an angel, but Dean was enough to wear any one out with how hot he was.

"…can't have you," Cas mumbled deliriously, as he laid there, waiting for Dean to make his move. "Sam…can't have you…no…you're mine…mine. God, don't leave me. Don't…"

"Cas, what are you—" Dean began, but he didn't even know how to ask the question.

All he could do was take Cas' face in between both hands, fix his eyes with his own, before saying, "Cas…I'm not going anywhere. I promise you. I'm right here; I'm here."

"No!" Cas said, his voice managing to be quite hard, "Can't…he can't. Damn it, no, can't. You're mine. I love you, you're mine."

Cas was making no sense whatsoever, but Dean tried to be of some comfort. "Shh…shh..." He placed a gentle kiss on Cas' lips. "Cas, it's okay. I promise."

"No…but, Sam. Sam, he…"

At that moment, Dean's lips were on Cas', smothering off whatever argument he might've had saved up for this moment, because when all was said and done…it didn't matter. It didn't change anything.

A single tear streamed down Cas' cheek, and Dean kissed it off gently with his lips, hoping to kiss away all the pain, though knowing that he couldn't without knowing the why.

"It's going to be okay," Dean breathed against Cas' skin. "Whatever it is…it doesn't matter." Dean promised. Probably not too smart on his part, but he did it anyway. "I'll make it okay."

He traced his parted trembling lips in a line down Cas' chest, stopping every so often to kiss, suck, bite, lick, trace, French, pretty much anything his lips, teeth, and tongue could possibly think to do.

But, he didn't really stop-stop until he reached his salvation. His perfection. His ultimate happiness beyond happiness. His very epitome and existence of happiness. Oh, yes, little Cas could work wonders. Full-blown angel or not, that guy would a way to be a full-blown whatever the hell he was.

"I'll make it okay," Dean repeated, before taking Cas into his mouth to try to be the best full-blown human anyway, though he knew he could never compare to Cas. Something about this particular time, though was just…different.

More intense. In every sense, yes, but also in the emotional sense, most importantly. Something in their relationship itself had changed, and they both recognized that change.

As Cas strained against Dean, writhing and thrashing about in his arms eager to feel the best of best parts in the best of the best ways, and as Dean clutched Cas as close to him as he could without literally super-gluing the guy to himself, it was deeper somehow.

When he finished with that particular round, Dean then anal-ized that sexy bitch of an angel all kinds of hard-core. Then, he oral-ized him again. Then, anal-ized him again. Switching back and forth all throughout, taking turns, taking the greatest and most powerful of possessions of one another. The possession of not only the body, but the possession of each other's very essence.

Their…very…souls.

Dean's very groggy, very disoriented state told him that he had fallen asleep. Oh, God. He fell asleep…in a freakin' destroyed barn…after having sex amongst that destruction—several, okay lots and lots and lots of times—with the sexiest damn angel in all of the heavens above…or something like that.

"Cas," he whispered, as he was coming to—not in the literal state, though, which was more than he could say for himself as of the past hours and maybe even days of his life for all he knew. He turned his head slightly, searching for him.

It was not just the feeling against his hip that alerted Dean to Cas' presence—though, that was pretty damn strong all on its own—but, the fact that Cas' lips were delicately and lovingly tracing the shape of…his hand mark. On Dean's shoulder.

Where he had caught hold of him to pull him out of hell. The print that not only left a mark on his body, but on his very soul. And, Cas felt that imprint too, Dean knew he did.

Cas' lips traced the shape of it, and Dean waited for him to finish tracing the whole thing before, turning his head, and saying, with a slight grimace, "Whatcha doin'?"

"Just thinking," Cas said, softly, now placing his hand on the mark. It fit perfectly, molded very much from that very hand. Of course, Dean knew that, but still. Didn't make it any less cool. Then, Cas rested his chin on his hand to peer at Dean.

"Yes, but…with which brain?" Dean joked, rolling over so that he now faced Cas, making Cas smile.

"All of them," Cas told Dean.

Dean looked confused. "Do you have more than two brains that I don't know about?"

"We all do, Dean," Cas said, now placing that hand on Dean's chest over his heart. "The brain in your head is the brain of the mind, keeping within you that knowledge of right…and wrong. The knowledge of everything you acquire in this life. And, that particular brain—" he nodded downward, with a chuckle, "—is the brain of a man's body, controlling his every action, every thought and every desire."

Dean snorted, "You got that right."

"But, the brain of the soul, Dean…is your heart." He stopped a moment to feel Dean's heart beat against his hand. Steady, rhythmic. Beautiful. "Your heart is the brain that controls your truest and purest desires. Selflessness. Courage. Faith. Humanity…love…Dean."

"From what I've seen, Cas…humanity is hardly true and pure. In fact, they're quite the opposite."

"Yes, they can be." Cas agreed, "...but, they also can be…wonderful. Can't they? Think about it. You and your family for example…you have given everything, everything of yourselves to save humanity. That is as true and pure as any could be."

"Aw, you rehearse that little speech, Cas? Cute. Wrong…but cute."

"No, not wrong. The very cause for all things evil and wrong, Dean, has been destroyed. Lucifer…he was the cause for that opposite you are referring to. Not humanity. He implanted within mankind thoughts of hatred and anger and fear and he turned mankind on one another. Without him…humanity would be good. It can be good. You can show it how it can be good, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head, but then for a moment, his smirk faded and he closed his eyes, "Is it wrong that I don't…care?"

Cas regarded him with curiosity.

"Not…saying I hope the world explodes and everybody dies or anything, but…I'm just saying that…that's not my number one priority anymore." His eyes meeting Cas' told Cas the words without Dean' actually having to say them.

"No, Dean. That's…to be expected. Your whole life you have sacrificed everything for someone else's sake. The world, your father, Sam. It's time you sacrifice something for yourself. I'm not saying that has to be the world, but I am saying that you need to give some thought to your happiness."

"I have," Dean choked out, sounding very much on the verge of tears. Oh, God. He never cried. "God, Cas, when I saw you...when I thought you were—" he couldn't say the words. "I lost it. I realized that I had just lost every chance I ever had for happiness. You, Sammy…everything I'd ever had was just gone. I didn't know how to handle that."

"It's a good thing you don't have to then," Cas said, placing a hand on Dean's cheek, hoping to make that pained look go away. God, it was too much for him to bear; he couldn't look at Dean like that. It just broke his heart.

Dean shook his head, "That's not the point, Cas. My whole life I've always been…I don't know terrified to let anyone completely in. Emotionally, anyway. My dad, Sammy. Even with them, I never could reveal who I really was to them or let them know how I was really feeling. I had to be the strong one in the family. I had to…keep us together, you know. They were always at each other's throats so I was too busy keeping them from killing each other to really have time to share my feelings.

"Not that I mind, I'm not a sharing, caring kinda guy anyway. Never had to, never wanted to."

Cas chuckled softly, though his eyes looked very hurt. "Yeah, noticed that."

"You, Cas," Dean said, finally forcing himself to meet his eyes. "You were…the only person I could tell anything to and feel completely at ease. You never judged me, never ridiculed me. Dad looked down on me. He put on like he didn't, but I'm no idiot. I know he saw me as…incompetent sometimes, and who can really blame him? Even Sammy…and his height had nothing to do with it."

Dean forced a chuckle, "He always saw himself as better than me, I know that. He made the straight As and got his full-ride to Stanford, I had to be dragged around the country as a right-hand weapon loader-and-holder for Dad. Then, he got those crap demon powers of his and he saw himself as…better than me. Stronger than me. Smarter than me. He was the hero of the damn piece and I was the useless sidekick who was good for nothing aside from my wit, sarcasm, and damn good looks."

"Dean—"

"Not that it matters, I'm used to it. I was nothing but the peacemaker of the family. Never saw myself as the hero. That was Dad. He was the one who—and Sam was…the golden boy. Yeah, I was Dad's lap dog, anything he asked, I did, but Sam…was the successful one of the family. The smart one. What did that make me?"

"Dean, look at me." Cas said, his voice only just above a whisper.

Dean shook his head, "Can't. Too ashamed."

Cas took his face in the palm of his hand, tilting his head upward to look him deeply in the eyes before saying, "They loved you. They never needed you to be anything more, Dean, what you were was just fine enough. What; you feel like they hated you for who you were?"

"Maybe just a little." Dean admitted.

"No." Cas insisted, "You have it…all wrong, Dean. Your father…looked up to you. He took you with him because he could depend on you. He knew that you would always, always have his back. With you watching his back, he felt invincible. He felt he could do anything in the world simply because you…believed he could."

"How do you know that?" Dean said, sounding reluctant to believe that.

"Because, I can hear it in your voice, Dean. See it in your eyes. You and Sam were everything to your father. The world. You think he really wanted this for you?"

"You mean, aside from the fact that he pushed it on us since we were both in diapers? Drilling it into us: hunt evil, shoot the bad guys, ask questions later, kill the damn demon that killed your mother, save innocent lives."

Dean stopped, his voice thick with emotion, though he tried to hide it. "God, what about our lives? Did our lives…mean nothing to him? Did I mean nothing to him?" He now stopped and squeezed his eyes tightly shut to stop the burning in his eyes. He would not cry, not here. Not now.

Cas wrapped an arm around Dean, and waited for Dean to rest his forehead miserably against his bare shoulder before shushing him. "Dean, it's okay. It's okay."

Dean inhaled and exhaled sharply, deeply, to be sure he didn't actually let go and cry. He couldn't.

"Dean," Cas choked out, after a while, looking away himself to avoid crying. Damn, this crying thing was contagious or something. Or maybe it was just Dean. He'd seen Sam cry, and yes, he'd been sad, but nothing ever affected him like seeing Dean cry. He would see Dean cry and it was as if the world stopped. Like it couldn't possibly go on when someone such as him was in pain.

"They…love you," Cas assured him. "They do. I know they do."

"Yeah, and Sam?" Dean asked, clenching his teeth as he spoke. "Feeling the love; I couldn't have meant that much to him."

"No, Dean, it was because you meant that much to him that he did what he did. He made some mistakes, sure, but when you think about it, he only did it…because you were everything to him. You're his big brother, Dean. You are everything he has looked up to…his entire life. Everything you are…he has wanted so badly to be. He aspired to be you since he was a young boy."

"No, he aspired to be the opposite of me. You know, school, the grades, the job, the girl, the freakin' works. That was his aspiration. Not his lame-ass, good-for-nothing, piece of crap excuse of a brother."

Cas clutched Dean's shoulder hard with his hand, shaking slightly to snap him out of this. "Dean. Stop it. You are not…he—I—we need you, Dean. We love you. I love you. For exactly…who and what you are. We wouldn't want you to change for the world, Dean. Not for anything."

Dean was silent for a moment, not saying anything because he didn't have the strength to take Cas on in an argument right now. So he let it go for the time being.

After a long moment, Cas choked out, "Do you?"

"Do I what?" Dean asked, raising his head to look at him, feeling very ashamed to meet his eyes.

Cas' eyes asked the question long before the words actually left his lips, but he asked it anyway. "When I died, when you thought I was…gone…you said you…" Cas didn't want to say it, in case it wasn't true. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Dean said, with a slight nod of his head. "I do, I meant it."

"Say it," Cas said, his voice pleading. "Say the words, Dean. Please."

"I love you," Dean said, the words sounding so much more natural than he had expected them to. He smiled slightly in relief. "I love you. I've…never said that before. To anyone. Not before you. I couldn't before now, but…with you…" he cut himself off, refusing to say anything he'd regret later. "Yeah. Love you. I do."

"Thank you," Cas said, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on Dean's lips.

The kiss only too easily intensified melting into another and another and another. Their lips moved passionately, lovingly against one another's as their hands were everywhere yet again. God, they were everywhere. Every fiber of their beings were very much exploding so that they were everywhere at once, yet they were completely safe and at peace with one another.

Dean pulled away from a kiss and chuckled softly, " 'm I goin' to hell for this, Cas?"

Cas gripped the back of Dean's neck tightly with one hand while his other rested on the mark. Their mark. "No…even if you do, I'll just pull you out again. I did it once, I will do it again."

"Unless you're there with me for it," Dean suggested.

Cas smiled, "So long as we can spend eternity having sex, I don't give a damn where we are doing the deed, Dean. Heaven and hell all blurs into a big distortion of nothing…once you enter the picture, Dean. They are all very much irrelevant. Everything is irrelevant."

Dean smiled, before pressing his lips once more softly to Cas'. "Very good," he breathed against his lips before kissing him again.

"Even better?..." Cas suggested, pulling away completely.

"What'd you have in mind?" Dean wondered, not even noticing the whoosh before Cas' words, signaling a change of places.

"Sex in the Grand Canyon?" Cas said, with a smirk, "You've never been to the Grand Canyon before. Ready for the time of your life at the Grand Canyon?"

"Are there tourists?" Dean wondered, actually curious.

Cas shrugged, "Well then, they'll get the show of their lives, won't they?"

Dean laughed. "Wow, Cas, didn't think you had it in you."

"I don't really," Cas corrected. "I just had you in me. That changes a man. Changes the world. For every bit the better."

Dean laughed again, looking around once to take in the scenery before leaning in and kissing Cas.

And, thus began their very exotic and erotic trip to the Grand Canyon, as they lunged for each other, ripped off their clothes, and had the best ever sex to ever be had, like, ever, ever.

And, thus began their whole very world and life together. Everything had changed, everything was different. Either way, everything would be okay. Everything would be better than okay.

Just…fine and dandy. And beyond f*cking hot, but that was so besides the point.

THE END.!!! LOVE YOU, MY LOVELIES! HOPE YOU LIKED!