52 days and four hours since he had sent his little sister to her death. 51 days and eight hours since he had found that she was dead. 50 dollars left in his wallet, and he might as well try to enjoy spending them. Though "enjoy" is not the correct word to use. To enjoy means to find happiness in something, not to find the bottom of a cup and a numbing to the sadness. The later, of course, is what he planed to find with the last of his money.

The man walked into a bar. He noted that statement going through his thoughts and almost found humor in the reference to the worn out bar jokes. He sat down at said bar and a voice greeted him, "what'll you have?"

The man raised his eyes from the polished wood of the bar and met the bartender's gaze. He was surprised to see a pair of bright green eyes and beautiful features, including light brown hair and a caring expression.

"What do you have that's not too expensive but will mess me up all the same?" he asked, lowering his gaze for the simple fact that he felt his inconsolable state did not have time for such things of beauty such as the man across from him.

"You sure that's a good idea, buddy?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," the man answered and the bartender nodded. "I'm Dean, by the way, and you are?" he asked, starting to get the drink ready.

"Castiel."

"Haven't heard that one before."

"My family was...quite religious."

"Was?" Castiel made no reply, Dean did not question further.

"Here ya go," Dean said, handing Castiel the drink. He took a sip, not bothering to ask what it was.

"I'll warn you, too many of those and you'll regret it in the morning."

"I doubt it."

"Whadda you mean?"

"Of all the things I regret every morning I'm alive, I somehow don't see this making the list. I'm on my way out anyway." Dean frowned. He had noticed the man when he first walked in, and although he was in a terrible state, with dirty clothes and bags under his eyes, he was really handsome. This had been confirmed when Dean got a closer look at his face. The main thing he had noticed was his startling blue eyes, like the noonday sky itself. Not to mention a mop of raven black hair to go along with handsome features.

"Hey, Cas, listen. You might think it's all over, but it's not. I don't know what you've been through but nothing can make that decision right," Dean hoped he could get through to Cas. He had come across many lost causes with this job and had done the best to talk them off the ledge. He hoped to God that this man wasn't quite done for.

Castiel glanced up, eyebrows knitted together, "Cas...?"

"Yeah, short for Castiel. Sorry, I didn't think you'd mind."

"No, no. I don't mind," he turned his attention back to his drink.

"Okay, but really, Cas. You can make it through this. Throwing your life away wont help anything, not even you."The dark haired man shrugged.

Okay, Dean was about to take a leap of faith here, and to be honest he wasn't really counting on landing safely. He knew he had to do something, however, and talking to this man behind a bar about how much his life meant didn't seem to be working. The words formed in Dean's mind carefully as he gathered the courage to speak.

"Well, if you wanted I get off in an hour. Maybe you'll feel better on a full stomach," Dean tried to appear confident as he anxiously waited for the other's response.

Castiel look up with a confused expression on his face. He seemed to have trouble grasping the idea that Dean was asking him out. Finally he spoke, "Are you being serious?"

Dean's heart sunk a little, "uh, yeah."

"I mean...I don't have money," Cas stammered, looking down.

"I'll pay."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well...okay."

Dean smiled at the dark haired man. Castiel gave him a small smile in return. Dean seemed nice, and what's the worst that can befall a man waiting to die?