[DISCLAIEMER: No, I do not own these characters or the plots in any way, only my ideas. Also, warning; planned slash, possible future smut, and spoilers and assumed plot courses of season 8. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED AND INFORMED. Enjoy~]

Chapter 1

The older Winchester sat on the motel-room bed, looking at his cell, his mind nearly blank. He didn't know what to do much anymore and he hated it. He went through his contacts, finding the B's. Bobby…

No, there would be no one answering. Yes, the phone would be ringing in the glove compartment of his car. That didn't mean he still couldn't call, could he? He had to vent to someone who'd understand, even if he'd get no advice; even if he wouldn't get grilled out for being a sap, and even if the last words he heard would be the insulting yet endearing 'idjit'. It was more the thought of previous comfort.

Finally, after minutes of silently staring at the number, and with his thoughts assaulting his mind, Dean finally pressed the call button. It rung for a moment, ending with Bobby's message, before the beep for leaving a message sounded.

"Hey, Bobby…I…I got a problem." He spoke silently, watching his feet that rested on the carpeted floor. He gave a weak chuckle. "I know; I always seem to have those… But…I don't have anyone else to tell them to, you know?"

There was silence that tightened his chest, but he just took a breath and continued, not letting it affect him. "…We closed the gates. Finally, we closed them… No more demons, all we have to deal with is the few monsters still running rampant. And even they seem to have gone into hiding, killing less to keep a low profile; they know their asses are the main targets now." He laughed, and lay back on the bed. "..So, just a few jobs here and there… Sammy's back to college now, though he sends me info on potential jobs. He even spares time to come along, every now and then. I know, I know—I need to be getting off my lazy ass and look for myself, but bite me; Sam doesn't contact me for anything else."

It was times like these he wished he hadn't tossed away the necklace Sam had given him for Christmas so long ago. But he couldn't dwell on it, and so he didn't.

"Cas is livin' it up with the angels again. He's made amends, I think…and they've let him back in heaven. I don't know what he's really doing up there, but I'm guessing he's happy, since he ain't here." For a moment, Dean let it sink in…just how lonely he was. Sam was at college, living his preferred life. Castiel was back in heaven with his brothers and sisters. And he was leaving messages for Bobby, who had long been dead. He wondered just why he was so alone, before he continued to get to his problem. "Look…I.. Bobby, I don't know…what to do anymore. It's all… It's all…" he sighed, sitting up then.

He stood and began pacing the motel room. "It's tame, it's nearly paradise compared to what it was before. I've…I've even seen Lisa and Ben, went to visit and passed by… They seemed happy. But…it feels like there's nothing else." He stopped his pacing as he stopped before the window, glancing out and watching the passerby's outside. They either drove on, drove it, conversed or continued on about their days. "I have nothing, Bobby. Sam's gone, Lisa's forgotten me, you're dead, and Castiel's back in heaven. There's barely any jobs and I…I don't know who I am anymore. Bobby, I don't know-"

There was a beep that signified that the message was over its limit. It was then that the reality threatened to shatter the guard Dean always built around his mind when he wanted to stay strong. His jaw was tense as his eyes began to sting, but he just removed the phone from his ear and ended the call, before tossing the phone to the bed. He roughly ran an open hand along his mouth, jaw, and chin as his mind was whirling in the thoughts he had tried to get off his chest and into that damned phone and he couldn't even finish and resolve it. "Fucking piece of shit.." he muttered, before rolling his eyes at the fact that he was so frustrated that he just cussed out a phone.

He grabbed the files that he had made a stack of. Past jobs he'd been informed of by Sam, or found on his own while traveling. They were finished jobs, but when he had nothing to do, he found himself looking through the files. Just to check and assure himself it had all been solved and fixed, and he even went so far as to call in on some of the people involved. There were never any further attacks, though. The monsters, the ghouls, the ghosts; they learned after that.

But he had to do something to keep busy. He sighed and put them all back into a pile, however messy.

Suddenly, he heard the ringing of his phone. He crossed his room to the bed and hurried to pick it up, seeing the caller ID and answering. "Sam? Another job?"

"No, actually; just a check up call, I was going to ask you the same thing." Sam said from the other end. "Nothing in town?"

"Not that I've gotten wind of, though I'm going out soon to check. How about you? Anything local or are the dorms nice, ghost free and babe-full?" he gave a joke, but it was a bit weak.

"No, Dean.." Sam gave a short laugh. "Well…how are things?"

"Good, good. Awesome."

"Really?" the was obvious disbelief in his tone, but Dean ignored it.

"And how are your studies going, hmm?" he didn't know what else to ask, and really, he didn't totally care. He never cared for school; he only learned what he needed to learn to survive. And though he didn't try any longer to stop Sam from going back to a 'normal' life (at least, the only one he could really live), he still didn't completely like it. More because of the fact that before his return, Sam would have gone on living a second life without a care for his real life. He wants Sam to be happy, of course, but…he can't help but feel the betrayal of being tossed away.

"They're going good, Dean." He assured him, and his voice had the same tone, is was the same careless response. Neither of them wanted to converse about their lives, for whatever individual reasons.

"That's good. Well, if you're done with your check in-"

"Yeah, I gotta get back to some work. I'll call you again when-"

"Whenever, sure. Bye, Sammy." and he hung up without giving much of another chance for Sam to respond. He looked at the time on his phone (six twenty-three) and debated in his mind, what to do… He was still in his old home-town where he'd stayed with Lisa for that year… That uncomfortable, wonderful, agonizing year. He had visited their house for some time, but needed to check for any local activity. But it wouldn't hurt to visit again, would it?

Within minutes, he was pulling on his jacket and grabbing his keys, locking the motel room and walking the balcony until heading down the stairs and to the Impala. And then he was on his way, music turned up and drowning out all other thoughts than the ones he was concerned with; check in on the locals for any stories or attacks, and drive by Lisa's.

There was no whispers or warnings of trouble, nothing in the papers; Dean even went so far as to go in as an FBI agent and speak with a few of the local police officer's and ask them if there had been anything strange happening around lately (giving the lie that he and his men had heard wind of some traveling trouble). But there was nothing. At all. Almost disappointed, he continued one his route. Next stop was Lisa's house.

And it was just as calm as the other day. He had parked a few houses down, but close enough to keep watch. He couldn't stay long without suspicions rising from neighbors, but he stayed long enough to catch glimpses of Lisa and Ben inside. They were cleaning up for some time before sitting in the living room and watching TV.

He was glad, even if he missed them, that they were happy. And he saw they were. And that's when he thought of Sam… He was happy, too, wasn't he? The life he was living now, he must be happy, or he wouldn't be so desperate for it. So Dean should be happy for him, too. And all those he's lost, even.. Yeah, they were either pissed at him and Sam for ever having gotten involved in all this shit, or they were moving on, free and happy and away from this world full of worry. It was a world worth fighting for, but that didn't make it any brighter in its darkest times.

With all this on his mind, Dean had made his way back to the motel, working like a robot as he arrived, got his things packed and checked out, returning to the car and leaving soon after.

While driving, thought and wonderings ran through his mind. Sometimes he wondered if Castiel was even happy, but he assured himself that he wasn't dealing with too much shit up there. How could they give an angel like Cas a hard time, after all he's tried to do? Yeah, he's failed a few times, but who hasn't?

But Dean's mind always came back to this…. He was alone, and he was unsure. His route out of this town took him by Lisa's again, of course, but there was no change. Still completely normal and safe. He gave a nod in the direction of the house before his eyes were focused on the road. Where next?

His mind ran through all the potential and close towns and cities and states with the possibility of a monster or ghost to deal with.

There was a sudden shuddering sound, like the air being disturbed by-

"Is it not a health-hazard to drive with such little sleep?"

Dean nearly jumped, glancing to the passenger seat even though he knew who he'd see. He then kept his eyes on the road as he calmed. "Damn it, Cas; can you not arrive normally for once?!"

The dark-haired angel in a trench-coat looked side-ways to Dean as he answered. "How can I arrive normally within a moving vehicle?"

Dean rolled his eyes and stayed quiet to show he had no answer to that question, but he eventually spoke again, now letting it set in that the angel was here. "So… What's new upstairs?"

"Nothing." Castiel said simply.

Dean half laughed. "Nothing? We closed the damn gates to Hell and nothing's changed up there? No more sticks taken out of a few feathered asses?"

Castiel shook his head. "There's not much difference in their opinions of most things. They are grateful, but don't expect that to mean they would be kind."

"No, of course not. Because even having a world minus demons, they'll still be dicks with wings. Not including you." Dean sighed.

Castiel was quiet, feeling no need for much of a response, so Dean glanced to him. He had that familiar mix between quizzical, questioning, and bored look on his face as he looked out the front window. And so another question came to his lips.

"What's been going on up there? I mean, you've been gone almost since we closed the gates and that's been months…" he began.

"They've been trying to bring order again. After all that's been done in the past years, they've decided it's time a stand should be taken, and one that fixes the damage instead of creating more. I'm simply thankful they've been more preoccupied with organizing heaven than worrying about me. Instead, they assign me to help, a great deal." Castiel began explaining.

"What, they got you cleaning up the years of messes they've been making up there? Last time a checked, you weren't a janitor."

"I'm cleaning up my own messes, Dean, and I'm not complaining. It's a way to move further towards atoning, and they've stopped taking information from me and wiping my memory of the meeting." Castiel added, but Dean laughed at part of it.

"They haven't had any information to take from you because you haven't been down here to gain anything new!" he remarked.

"I'm barely allowed down here, Dean, that's true… They do want a leash on me, and I am over-worked as punishment…" he glanced down as he fiddled his fingers.

"Punishment? For the messes you made? For your failures? And what, they've never done anything wrong?! Must be nice, up on their high horses, trying to convince themselves their so self-righteous and right. Well, last time I checked, your father has given you how many second chances? You're doing something right in all your wrong, Cas! Maybe it's them who are doing wrong…" he shook his head slightly. The angels could always piss him off, and he definitely wasn't in the best mood. And then he thought for a moment. "…Barely allowed down..? What, do they send you on scout missions or on clean up duty down here?" The thought of Castiel being back on Earth angered him a bit, that was only because of his loneliness he still needed to get used to.

Castiel took a breath, before nodding. "Yes."

Dean had the faint feeling that there was more to it than that, but he shrugged. "Well, they can shove it… So, what are you here for? A job they sent you on?" he questioned. He laughed faintly; would they have Castiel baby-sitting him? Was this the relationship he and his angel friend would have now?

"Just checking in. The motives are mixed, but the reasons for coming are all the same." he informed him.

"…That brings light to the question." Dean responded sarcastically.

Castiel's hand came to his temple suddenly and he sighed, brows furrowed in concentration.

Dean turned his head to look at him, raising a brow slightly before looking back to the road. "Heavenly calling?"

"Yes." Castiel sighed, not even reaction to the sarcasm, he was far too used to it. "At least now, they're informing me and leaving my memory untapped when they check in."

"And at least they're not stopping any of our important shit." Dean said, though he would have liked to actually have time to talk with Castiel. He knew there was more he could be informed about Castiel's current state and about all he was dealing with up there. And damn it, he'd like to have some contact or some company. He wasn't social and he didn't need a normal family, nor could he function with one, but… Couldn't he at least have a brother? A friend? Someone to keep him from the loneliness.

Castiel stayed quiet, though he knew just why he was being called back now. But no, he lied about what it truly was, because there was no use admitting it, was there? "They seem to not only want an update on you and Sam, but more importantly, there is work to be done. Soldiers to be trained."

Dean didn't respond. He was too tired, too pissed, too out of it. He'd vented enough without getting completely angry. "Well; just make sure the boy scouts eat their breakfasts." He gave Castiel a tired and sarcastic smile.

Castiel could barely smile back. "I don't know when and if I'll return again. But if you are in need, call and I'll do my best to come. And I suggest you get rest, it's nearly night."

Dean laughed. "There's barely any attacks anymore, so a normal call wouldn't-" he looked to Castiel, only to find he was gone. He took a breath. "Happen…. Yeah, rest.. Sure, Cas.."

He may be tired, but he could drive much longer. And he would. He turned up the radio louder, drowning it all out in the music as he began singing along. He didn't care what song it was as long as he knew the words. And as long as the thoughts were washed away for now.

"I believe you were told to keep away from either of the Winchester's, Castiel." Naomi said in an impatient tone, leaning against her desk as Castiel leaned against the wall near the door. "You keep an eye on them when we tell you to. You don't go bonding with your little pets like you used to."

"They are my friends and I do not see any harm to anyone in me speaking with Dean Winchester. He and his brother are of no threat to heaven; if anything, they are an asset!" Castiel spoke up, standing straight and glaring.

"Oh, spare me the praises. You have been told… And you will be told no more than you have to, is that understood? I spared your memories because of the deed you did by assisting in closing the gates; but my appreciation only goes so far."

"You can't affect my memories any longer. You lost that ability." Castiel challenged.

She glared. "I will find ways, Castiel. You keep in line, or I'll find a way to make you."

"Isn't that what you're already doing?"

She stood straight, no longer leaning against the table and began to stalk towards him, but as he did the same with no fear, she slowed and stopped and so did he. "You have been warned about the risk of your relationship with that human, Castiel. From the beginning. You've nearly fallen, only to be given more chances. I think it's about time you show respect and gratefulness for that."

He walked closer to her, caring nothing for personal space, and she didn't seem to either; they both seemed to stare each other down as he stopped a few inches before her, his voice low and threatening almost. "I will show respect and gratefulness to the sole being that deserves it. And that. Is not. You."

She watched him in silence, before giving a short chuckle. She backed up a few steps, turning calmly and walking back to her seat. "As you say, Castiel. Just realize the risks of the path you've been walking for so long. You're nearly to the end… Are you sure you're willing to make it to the destination, with all you'll be leaving behind on that road?"

He glared at her in silence, having no answer. Because truly, he wasn't so sure yet. Instead of answering, he turned and left the white and grey room, not caring if she tried to stop him. He had work to do and the sooner it was done, than…the sooner it could be done. He wondered how long this would go on, but he had to believe it would end eventually. Or should it?

He had too many questions… He was nearly tired of being so answerless, but he tried his best to keep faith. But deep within his mind, a part wondered if Naomi was right. Could anything she said be right? No. He shook his head, stopping and sighing as he stood in a white hall. He was right… The only one he would answer to is one that deserved it and he was sure it was not her.

But would he ever be able to show that respect to the one responsible for all his second chances? And just how is he even supposed to know for sure what was right and what was wrong? He wanted an answer—he'd done enough wrong with the souls when he hadn't had answers then. He just wanted answers…

He wanted to know who he was, and what his damn purpose anywhere was anymore.