So I initially wrote this for my friend's birthday and posted it to tumblr and then I thought why not post it here too. So here it is :)

Hope you enjoy it x

O Castiel, Castiel, wherefore art thou an Angel?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love
And I'll no longer be a Demon.

Dean slouched back in the corner of hell that he had deemed his own. Eventually the urge to kill people, innocent people, had become too strong. Sam had been forced to exorcise him. Now he had nothing better to do than sit around and watch as soul after soul would be tortured beyond recognition. The worst part was that he liked it.

As if the faint remains of human guilt weren't enough to make Dean's life in Hell… well… Hell… another Human emotion remained: Love. The brotherly love he still felt toward Sam in itself was enough to make him mope around because of his situation, but it was the 'true' love he felt for a certain Angel that made him feel truly angry at himself and his predicament.

Castiel sat in a garden of Heaven. He wasn't entirely sure which garden it was, he couldn't remember if there was even more than one garden in heaven. Who cared? He certainly didn't. He had known from the moment he had looked upon the Mark of Kane - burning itself into Dean, mutating him into something he didn't want to be - he had known then, that no matter how things worked out, there would be no happily ever after for them.

Even now, with Metatron and his followers neutralised and Heaven restored, Castiel was far from happy. Though he was able to look down upon the earth and see Sam living his life, safely, moving on; he could not see Dean. Dean was a Demon. The Mark of Kane had devoured his soul. That's what everyone had said. But Castiel did not want to believe that. Not one bit.

As another tortured soul reached its breaking point, Dean managed to force his legs to carry him to another place. He didn't really care where that other place was. Castiel had quickly become the only thing he could think about. His floppy, dark hair and sparkling blue eyes, all topped off with his heart melting smile and shining personality, was his only anchor to what remained of his humanity.

Once Sam had sent him into the pit, he had acted on an uncharacteristic whim of optimism – he would make something good out of a bad situation. Since making that choice, he had since ridden Hell of Crowley's orders and began to give out his own. His own orders were essentially:

"Ditch the violence toward people…or face me."

Since he'd given that order, demonic activity had significantly declined. Dean couldn't be happy about that though. With Demons unable to go to the surface and wreck havoc there, Dean was drowning under the masses of Demons with nothing to do. Being in charge was hard. What he wouldn't give to be able to send them on errands to get him things. Like pie. Maybe one day.

After a string of angels come to give him news of 'important' matters, Castiel was finally able to sit back. He hated being in charge. He wished that Gabriel would stop being his usual D-bag self and come back; he couldn't really be dead, Castiel did not want believe that. Not one bit. He also wanted to be able to bring Sam to heaven with him, Heaven actually knew he deserved it, but Sam was some-what happy with his life. He had finally been able to graduate and become a lawyer (He certainly needed that law degree in order to explain what he had done with the past ten years of his life).

But what Castiel wanted more than anything, as he looked across the beautiful garden and watched birds chirping in the bright green trees, was Dean. He wanted, no, neededDean to be able to join him in heaven. For, he knew one day Sam would be able to join him in Heaven. He had actually negotiated his way into having Sam become an Angel and manage Heaven alongside him. But Dean, Dean was in Hell.

Castiel knew full well that Dean would live just as long as him. When he had first fallen in love with that tortured, human soul, as he pulled him from purgatory, his only worry was that Dean would die before him. While there had been a few times that Castiel could have died before Dean, he knew that either way, they would not grow old together.

Now, neither of them would grow old, but it was impossible for either to see each other – each was too busy controlling the two warring domains. Being in charge was hard.

As Castiel sat back, the knowledge of human literature bestowed upon him by none other than Metatron himself, rattled around inside his head. Though he was loath to admit it, he felt grateful to the evil bastard for the knowledge of stories. Perhaps it was true, true that those stories did indeed make up the universe; for Castiel saw himself within the pages of many stories that lived inside his mind.

One that stood out to him the most, as he sat in the garden, was Romeo and Juliet. Though he and Dean were not star-crossed lovers due to some ancient feud between two families, they were star-crossed lovers none the less – forced apart by the feud between Angels and Demons. They were both kings but of different kingdoms, and their paths would rarely cross.

Though Castiel took solace in the fact that they were both alive. Unlike in most stories, they survived their love story. None the less, the ending was just as tragic.

But was it really the end?