"Dean Winchester, you stupid son-of-a-bitch," Dean cursed under his breath. He was sitting at the desk in their run-down motel room, staring out the window up at the moon as he listened to Sammy snoring behind him.
Dean couldn't sleep… He hadn't been able to since he had gotten out, had escaped… The hunter rubbed his eyes and took a long draught from his beer, sighing slightly as it warmed him. Unfortunately, it didn't take away the pain. Playing across Dean's mind, again and again, were the images of Purgatory, the images of Cass, broken and battered. Dean felt hot tears begin to roll down his cheeks, and without thinking he slammed his fist on the table.
"Dammit!" he cursed under his breath, looking back to make sure that his brother was still asleep. He was, still breathing slowly, splayed out like the giant moose he was. Dean laughed to himself, although it was joyless. He absentmindedly set his beer down and rubbed his wrists, feeling worse than he had in his entire life. Cass is gone… The thought kept playing across his mind, each time arousing new feelings of hatred anger, confusion and need. Dean, who had always been chasing after women, needed the angel in a way that he had never needed anyone before. Even when Cass had done so much wrong, the hunter saw the good in him, and would give anything to have him back, so that he could finally admit his feelings. In this moment, the great Dean Winchester wanted uncontrollably to rip his heart out and simply bleed to death. But he couldn't, and wouldn't. He would sit quietly, going through the days as if him and Sam still had a drop of purpose, as if the whole world, heaven, and hell weren't against them.
Dean continued to stare at the moon, wondering if Cass missed seeing it, missed Dean. The anguished hunter closed his eyes after several minutes, and for the first time in a very long time, pushed his chair back and knelt down on the ground. He clasped his hands together as he felt the tears continue to flow and took a deep breath.
"All right God, you son-of-a-bitch… After everything that Sam and I've been through, all that you've put Cass through as your little servant, can't you see some freaking sense? I can't believe I'm doing this… You're dead, or at least don't give a damn about Earth. Well, I give a damn. Cass, who's someone who I—care about a lot—keeps getting taken away. For once in all of eternity, do something for our team, for the good guys. Because if you don't, I think I'm done. I can't live like this anymore. Sam hates me, I hate myself, and I've lost pretty much everyone I love. So, do this, or don't. But, I'm gonna find you someday when I'm dead and rip you apart if you don't."
Dean stood abruptly and stormed out the motel door, needing some fresh air. He had no idea that Sam was awake, had been faking his breathing the entire time. The younger Winchester nearly always stayed awake, making sure that Dean wasn't going to do anything stupid. Sam sighed and sat up, walking to the window as he saw his brother outside the motel, pacing back and forth like a mad man. He knew how his brother felt about Cass, although he would never admit it. Dean was conflicted, and probably thought it wrong. Sam knew him better than anyone, and knowing Dean, he would keep the feelings of love pushed down so far that he thought they would disappear, but they wouldn't. Sam stood, watching Dean, wondering whether or not to go out and talk to him. His older brother needed him. Sam sighed and grabbed his jacket and shoes, and without a word, left the motel room.
#
Castiel was lying in a tree, looking up at the starless night. Underneath him, he could hear the sound of hellhounds ripping each other apart limb from limb. Cass frowned, and let his mind drift. He felt strange, somewhat empty. He had been feeling this way since Dean and Benny had left, this desolation. Cass imagined what Dean was doing right now, probably out drinking at some bar with women. He didn't know why, but the thought made him feel sick. Castiel didn't understand love, never had, and so of course he didn't realize that he was head-over-heels for Dean Winchester, the human he had rescued so many times, looked after and died for.
It was then that Cass heard it, faint and fleeting… A prayer. But, it wasn't to him… Cass, who's someone who I—care about a lot—keeps getting taken away. The words played through his being quietly, and he realized. Dean was praying to God. Dean Winchester was praying for God to bring Cass back. Cass felt his grace shudder slightly, and Jimmy's heart rate accelerated. He didn't understand though… Maybe he never would. Cass did feel himself smile though. Dean was also thinking about him. And then, the angel frowned… He had never understood why Dean cared about him, although he did feel a caring and affection towards him, and even Sam. Cass had heard humans call these feelings many things, but love wasn't something he thought himself capable of—that is, until he met Dean and Sam. Now, Cass was sure that he thought of Sam as a brother. And Dean—well, he still wasn't sure. Somewhere, deep down, Cass believed that he was 'in love', as humans termed it. But, he would never tell Dean. He would never admit to those vibrant green eyes, never truly be held by the hunter's strong arms, never tell, not even in a whisper, how he felt. Castiel closed his eyes and played back memories that he had on Earth, with Dean and Sam. He recalled well the many times Dean had treated him like a friend, even seemed to care about him. Analyzing every action, Castiel tried to decide how the hunter felt. But, he was never good at reading human reactions. He thought back many instances ago, when Dean had tried to get the angel laid. Why had he cared so much? Or when Dean had been so bothered by Castiel 'invading his space' as he called it. And then, in rare instances, Dean had shown a true affection towards the angel. But, then he used confusing comments such as "you're like family to me." Castiel was lost in Dean's emotions, trying to decipher… Maybe, if he made it back to Earth, he would finally ask Dean about his confusing thoughts. Of course, he didn't expect the hunter to feel the same… After all, Dean was, completely homophobic. It didn't matter that Cass wasn't technically a guy… Cass felt like crying for once because of his confusing emotions. All he wanted was for Dean to tell him it would all be okay… But the hunter was gone, far away, and would probably never see him again.