A/N: So, um, my friend rewrote the first chapter, and, honestly, it's so much better, so I'm posting it as a kind of Chapter 2, but, not? Okay guys, prepare to cry more.

Dean picked up the phone shakily, his palms clammy and his breaths becoming shallow and quick. He was bleeding out, he knew it, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Sam wasn't coming to the abandoned warehouse, and neither was Cas, and he was going to die.

"Dean," came the weakened angel's gravelly voice from the earpiece. "Are you alright?"

Dean loved him, and he loved how he cared and he loved how he worried.

"Yeah, Cas," Dean lied, making an effort to keep his voice calm and steady in spite of the heaviness growing in his chest and eyelids. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just wrapped up a case. How's Sam doing with the Darkness research?"

"Sam has found an old Enochian text that speaks of a man who died, and his soul was powerful enough to force the Darkness back to its realm. He is translating it as we speak."

"That's great, Cas. Let him know I'm proud of him, 'kay?" croaked Dean, his arms beginning to tremble with fatigue and his stomach painted a familiar red with his own blood.

"Of course," Cas replied. The angel paused, then murmured, "Dean, are you sure you are alright? I can come get you if needed. I'm fairly adequate with a vehicle."

"I'm sure you are," Dean chuckled, but the red that pooled at his aides sobered him quickly, and he continued, knowing his time was limited and wanted this to be said before then. "Cas, I gotta-I've got something to say."

"Dean-"

"Cas, just listen, okay?" He took a deep breath, and Dean could feel it, rattling around in his chest like spare change. "I know I'm just a human, and you're, well, you, and I know I'm fucked up a thousand ways from Sunday, but, Cas, buddy, I-I love you. I know you probably don't feel the same, but I love you."

"Dean," Cas breathed out, like a sigh after a long day. "I've fought Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory for you. I've sacrificed everything for you. I've guided your broken soul out of Hell and healed it. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, and my feelings for you go beyond love."

Dean's breath caught in his throat, and he pretended it was just from the shock of his feelings being reciprocated.

"Cas," Dean choked out, and the angel seemed to understand.

"I heard a song today," Cas said quietly, and Dean could imagine him, sitting at the bunker, voice low in an effort not to bother Sam. "It was on the, uh, radio."

Dean's time was approaching; black spots began to cloud his vision, and his legs went numb and his arms went soon after, leaving him absently pressing the phone to his face.

"It went like this," and Cas began to sing in a deep hum, one Dean had never heard before, and, oh God, he would never hear again.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in,

But I can't help falling in love with you.

Shall I stay,

Would it be a sin

If I can't help falling in love with you."

His vision grew darker, and Dean's eyes fell closed.
"Like a river flows

Surely to a sea,

Darling so it goes

Some things were meant to be."

The pain became unbearable; his consciousness slipping from him.

"Take my hand,

Take my whole life too.

But I can't help falling in love with you…I love you, Dean."

There was no answer.