He couldn't do it. He wouldn't talk about this. Not to him. He has enough weight on his shoulders to worry about without Cas adding to his guilty conscience.

"I said no, Dean." He fiddled with his fingers and looked around the room, at anything but the fast approaching man who settled on the bed opposite him.

"Talk to me." Dean Winchester, the hunter who avoided chick flick moments like the plague was sat in front of him asking him about his feelings. It was a miracle, and lets face it, he could never deny him anything.

"Dean…when I was…bad" Cas cringed at the word he tried so hard to not admit. But he knows that's the only way to describe it. "What I did on earth was terrible…but in heaven…i left it devastated. If I went back there and saw the destruction I caused.." He paused. This was it. The breath he took out of habit more than of need, caught in his throat. He couldn't say it. He stared at the floor. No. He has to do this. This is Dean. If anyone in the universe could understand it would be him. "I'm afraid I might kill myself." When he looked up, into the hunters eyes, he wasn't expecting the pain and understanding in his tired eyes. It was then that he realised, maybe Dean understood a little too well. And that was what hurt the angel the most.