Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters or any other recognizable characters.

A/N: This started as a short oneshot, which I then expanded into a full length story, so if the beginning part of this chapter seems a bit different than the rest, that's why. Takes place after 4.10 and please, don't worry. You'll see what I mean later, but don't worry.

Dean slipped from his motel room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Although it had been brutally hot earlier in the day it was late enough- or rather, early enough- for it to have cooled down considerably. Even if it had been scorching, though, he still would have gone out. Once again the nightmares had become too much for him to deal with. He wouldn't be getting any sleep anytime soon and if he stayed inside he'd only wake Sam up.

Though he had wandered outside to escape the nightmares, he couldn't stop his eyes from instinctively wandering towards the sky. The motel was too isolated; apart from the neon light out front it was completely dark. Just empty blackness- like hell. Though Dean was never one for worrying about the heavens, the stars were his lifeline when the memories became too much. There weren't any stars in hell. As long as he could see them he knew he wasn't back there and that knowledge was enough to calm most of his fears.

His gaze wandered over to the Impala and sighed. Even with the stars twinkling overhead, he wasn't completely at peace. He wanted to do nothing more than to get behind the wheel and drive as far as he could, as fast he could. No looking back, no stopping. Just him and the car, with the road beneath the wheels and AC/DC blasting through the speakers. "Yeah, like that'd do me any good…" he muttered. He couldn't drive away from the memories. No matter what he did, no matter where he went, they'd always be there.

He walked towards the road, glancing briefly to his left and right, silently debating whether or not it would be worth it to go for a run for a bit, though he knew that no matter how far he ran he would never become tired enough to sleep dreamlessly. With another sigh he walked across the dusty road and through the brush on the other side until finally he sagged to the ground, holding his head in his hands. Hidden from view by the tall grass he finally let down his defenses. He was exhausted, running on barely an hour of sleep, blaring music, and enough caffeine to kill a horse ten times over. He couldn't keep doing this forever, but he was going to keep at it for as long as he could.

He lay down in the grass, his head resting on his arms. His eyes were fixed on the stars again, idly trying to locate the patterns he knew only by name. Orion and the Big Dipper and whatever the name of that bear one was. He snorted. "Knowing my luck they're right overhead," he muttered. "Too bad I'll never know if they are."

As he continued to stare up at the heavens, Dean couldn't help but wonder where Castiel was. Neither brother had heard from him, Uriel, Anna, or any other angel for that matter since Anna had regained her grace a few weeks ago. It wasn't that Dean was worried for him. He knew that the angel was more than capable of taking care of himself, but he still found it curious. After everything with Anna, after Dean had finally given in and talking to Sam, after all that, couldn't he stop by to just offer a few words of heavenly wisdom?

"You bring me back for hell and just forget about me?" Dean yelled. "C'mon, you can't expect me to help you if I don't know what to do!"

There wasn't any response. Not that Dean had expected there to be, though. He knew that if Castiel hadn't seen the need to talk to him yet he certainly wouldn't come just because Dean called. Still, he wished the angel had. He hated not knowing where he stood with Castiel because it was times like this, when he was alone with his memories of hell, he began to wonder what would happen if God decided he didn't need him anymore.

"And there I go again, thinking only of myself when there's an apocalypse to stop, a brother to keep on the right path, and countless evil sons of bitches to stop," he muttered. Years of putting others before him had caused Dean to feel guilty when he began to worry about himself, because there were so many others that he should be worrying about instead.

The sun was just starting to rise in the distance and he reluctantly stood up and made his way back across the road to the motel room. He unlocked the door and reached for the pad of paper and pen that was on the nearby table.

Sam-

Left to get food. Starting packing when you get up, I want to hit the road earlier than we did yesterday

-Dean

He tossed the pad back down on the table and swiped the keys from where he had set them the night. Once he was in the car he put in a tape and turned it up almost as loud as it could go. Without coffee, there was no way he would stay awake unless he had his music.

He had just reached the decent sized town about half an hour away when his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID for a second before flipping it open. "Didn't expect you to be up so early, Sleeping Beauty."

"Very funny," Sam said dryly. "Listen, how far out are you?"

"Just reached the town we drove through yesterday, so maybe thirty minutes away from the motel. Why?" If Sam called him while it was on a food run it was either to remind him to pick something up or something was wrong- and Dean was pretty sure it was the latter this time.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a second and Dean's heart skipped a beat. "Sammy? Sammy!"

"Dean, calm down, I'm right here," Sam said. "Look… just forget about the food, okay? You should probably get back here soon."

"Is everything alright?"

Sam sighed. "I'm fine, Dean."

That wasn't what he had asked. "Sam…"

"Look, I'm fine. No one's getting suspicious, nothing's attacked the room, and neither Bobby nor anything other hunter called in the last half hour."

"Then what's this about?"

"Just come back to the motel room, I'll explain when you get here."

Before Dean could continue the conversation Sam had hung up. "Damn it," he muttered as he turned around and sped back to the motel. All he could think about was something actually being wrong and getting there too late- and that terrified him more than the thought of hell. He slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, his heart racing despite his attempts to calm down.

He screeched to a halt in the motel parking lot fifteen minutes later, gun already drawn and out of the car in an instant. If his brother hadn't come bursting out of the room only a few seconds later he would've gone in there shooting first and asking questions later, despite Sam's earlier insistence that everything was fine.

"Dean! Calm down!" Sam said as he grabbed his arm and pushed it down, forcing him to lower the gun.

"What's going on, Sam?" Dean's voice was harsh, his whole body on the alert.

"Dean, nothing's wrong. There's just… someone showed up not long after you left."

"Who?" he asked. "Ruby?" Sam shook his head. "Cas?"

"Dean…" Sam sighed. "C'mon, it's better if he explains…"

"He?" Dean asked, but Sam didn't answer; he was already making his way back towards the room. Dean rolled his eyes, but followed close behind him. His gun was still held carefully in his hand, just in case.

It didn't take long for him to figure out what Sam was talking about. Standing in the middle of their motel room, back facing the door, was a tall man dressed in a crisp suit. He turned around as the two of them entered the room.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked before the man could say anything.

"I am Aniel," he said.

"Huh. Interesting name you've got there." Dean tucked his gun away and shrugged out of his jacket before it hit him. "Don't tell me…"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Another angel."

"You sure?" Dean's voice was just barely loud enough for Sam to hear, though it wouldn't have surprised him if the new angel had heard as well.

"Splashed holy water on him when he first got here," Sam murmured. "Didn't do anything."

Dean nodded. He had almost expected as much; he highly doubted Sam would let a stranger stay in their motel room without making sure he wasn't a demon first. "So you're an angel, huh?" He said, turning back to face Aniel. "What, Cas didn't want to come down to face me so he sent you instead?"

Aniel glanced sharply at Sam. "You didn't tell him?" Sam just shook his head.

"Tell me what?" Dean was getting tired of being left in the dark.

Aniel opened his mouth to answer but Sam quickly cut him off. "I'll explain," he said quickly. Aniel tilted his head slightly, a slightly confused look crossing his face for a second. Sam forced a smile and said, "You guys don't always give the news nicely."

There was silence in the room for a moment before Sam said, "Dean, do you remember when Cas was fighting Alastair?"

"Course I do, Sammy," Dean said. "Alastair got the upper hand and almost killed him."

Sam nodded. He looked uncomfortable, like he would rather be doing something else, but he continued anyway. "Well, there was another battle a few weeks ago…"

Dean frowned. "What're you saying?" But he knew what his brother was saying. He could almost hear Castiel talking to him in Bobby's kitchen. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week. "Sam…"

"There wasn't anyone to save him this time around," Sam said quietly. "Dean… I'm sorry."

Dean didn't say anything. He may not have been overly fond of the angel- hell, he'd been yelling at him just that morning, and that hadn't been the first time- but Castiel had been a good person and he didn't deserve to die at the hands of demons. "What happened?" he finally asked.

"There was a battle over one of the seals a few weeks ago," Aniel said. "We emerged victorious, but there were many casualties. Castiel, however, was taken by the demons, dragged back to hell so they could torture him for information. We searched and searched through every bit of hell for him, but couldn't find him. It wasn't until yesterday that we found him, but by then they were disposing of his corpse."

Dean flinched. He could almost feel their knives digging into him again, slowly ripping the skin from his bones. Words couldn't describe how horrible that was, but Dean knew that what had happened to him was mere child's play compared what Castiel must have gone through. He knew the difference between the types of torture, and he had cut into more than one soul with the intention of getting information about a particular person from them. The thought of Castiel going through that made him sick to his stomach.

He didn't realize that he had started to shake until Sam had grabbed him, helping to support his weight as he led him over to one of the beds and pushed him down onto it. Dean knew that his brother thought he was freaking out over the news of Castiel's death and he almost felt guilty because that wasn't the case at all. Once again it was the memories of his own time in hell that had him on the verge of a panic attack.

Stop thinking about yourself! Lilith is still trying to break the seals; Castiel's death doesn't change that. "What happens now?" he asked, his mind quickly moving onto the bigger picture. "What are we supposed to do?"

"You pack," Aniel said. "And leave as soon as you can. Drive as far as you can, as fast as you can. I'll rejoin you at the next motel."

"I don't understand." Dean looked over at his brother, though he couldn't really be surprised by his brother's reaction; he too was wondering what they were running from. Guess Aniel here didn't tell Sammy everything before I got back…

"Sam, Castiel's death has implications far greater than you can understand."

"What? Now we don't have an angel hovering over us all the time without actually doing anything?" Sam was only barely hiding the sarcasm in his voice and Dean glared at him, silently warning him to tread carefully.

"No. I am taking over Castiel's position," Aniel told him. "They wanted to give the job to Uriel, since you already know him, but considering how he feels about humans…" His voice trailed off, but both brothers knew what he meant. "I am to take a more active role in preparing you for what should happen if Lilith succeeds."

Sam frowned. "Why the running then? What are you guys so afraid of?"

"An angel in hell is not like a human soul down there," Aniel said slowly. "The demons… they treat one of us differently. All it takes is one deep cut and they can pull out their grace. When that's separated, the angel becomes human."

"Like Anna."

Aniel nodded. "The now-human angel is then tortured far more than another human soul would be and, unaccustomed to pain, it doesn't take long for them to break."

Sam's face paled as the pieces fell into place. "And once they tell the demons everything they need to know, they're killed, aren't they? So they can't find their grace and become angels again?"

Aniel nodded again.

"So basically what you're saying is that the demons know everything Castiel knew," Dean said. "Including everything about is." He shook his head. "We are so screwed."