Dean couldn't take it anymore. Everything was gone. Mum was dead. Dad was dead. He hadn't even got a chance to really know his brother, Adam. Jo and Ash and Ellen, gone. Bobby, gone. Kevin, gone. Garth, a werewolf. Everyone was just…gone. He was alone. Sammy was right, he couldn't stand being alone and now even Sammy, his baby brother that he'd kept alive for so long, hated him. According to Sammy, no, Sam, he no longer had a brother. Dean was simply…alone. And he couldn't stand it. He left the keys in the impala for any poor sap that wanted to take on that majestic piece of metal. One text to Sam, simply saying 'Goodbye', and he was ready. He grabbed the rusting metal and pulled himself up, bracing himself on the iron ledge. He'd taken his jacket off and left it in the bunker for Sam. He may be huge but he can still fit the jacket and it was Dads. A tear escaped his eye as he steadied himself against the howling wind. No one was there to see so he didn't bother to wipe it away. Taking a deep breath, he glanced down at the rushing white waters below. He'd fallen of bridges before, even jumped off a few. But never had he jumped off one this big, and with the purpose. He didn't understand why he kept coming back. Maybe because it had never been his choice. Sammy had chosen but Dean had stopped him. Well, Sam wasn't here to stop Dean. Slowly, he held his foot out over the edge and looked skyward, tightly gripping the structure, metal biting into his fingers and palm. "I'm sorry, Bobby. Guess I wasn't the man you thought I was." Funny, he thought, that's his last prayer was to Bobby and not john. Family isn't always blood. "Fuck you, Crowley! You always get the last word!" A small, sing-song voice whispered in the back of his mind, 'Time to see Adam again'. He hated that voice, hated the truth of it. A sudden desire to get it over with washed over Dean, his fingers loosening from the iron pole he held. "Son of a bitch," he whispered. Dean jumped. The waters reached up to take him, the whistling of air that last thing he would hear, no more Kansas or ACDC or Asia. Just the wind. He dropped further, the cold air like a cleansing fire against his skin. Then all of a sudden it stopped. Dean hit solid ground, Tarmac to be exact. And then he hit it again and again and again. Rough hands were pulling him up and hitting him against the bridge he had just stepped off of. "You. Stupid. Fucking. Hunter!" Cas screamed at him, his trench coat soaked with the spray from the river. "How. Could. You. Do. That. To. Me!?" Dean was crying, both from shock and the pain he wanted to end. Cas went to push him down again and Dean punched him, forcing Castiel to roll off him. Dean ran to the bridge and threw himself off again. Once more, Cas caught him before he reached the river. This scene replayed over and over until eventually, Dean lay on the Tarmac, the fight exhausted from him, silently sobbing at the sky. Cas had stopped hitting him with the ground at least an hour ago and sat next to Dean, tear tracks staining his cheeks as he watched the hunter. "Why?" Dean whispered, barely audible over the river below them. Castiel didn't hear. "Why?" Dean asked, louder this time. Cas just stared at him, pity and sadness mixed with anger and something else, something Dean didn't quite recognise. Dean pushed himself up, his body aching with the effort of not dying. "Why can't you just let me die?" He yelled at the angel. Cas gave a strangled laugh at this. "Hunters. You lot just don't get it, do you?" "Get what?" "That you can't just throw your lives away! You fight each and every day, just waiting to die. And you, you just throw yours away like it doesn't matter! Like-" "But mine doesn't matter!" Dean yelled over him. "I have nothing to live for! I have no one! I want to die! Why can't you fucking let me!" Castiel reached over and slapped him, "Because I love you, you assbutt! You have me!" More quietly, he said "I can't let you die, because if you die, I die too." The angels glacier blue eyes willed Dean to realise this. And he did. Dean sat in shock as he recounted all those small little things that told him it was so; the looks, the touches, their 'profound bond'. And as he lay on the Tarmac, watching Cas blush and look away from him, he began to realise. Dean loved Cas too. He was no where near ready to want to live again, but he wasn't as close to wanting to die, either. Slowly Dean leant over, reaching out his hand to cup Cas' face in his palms, watching as the angels eyes grew huge and slightly scared. Then all of a sudden, they were kissing. Gentle touches of their lips against each other's. After a while, they broke away from the kiss, still holding the other, just looking. Time passed until, eventually the sun began to rise. Dean glanced at the Impala, a glance that made Cas give a sad smile. "Do you still want to leave me?" He asked Dean, his voice hopeful but unsure. Dean gave a sad smile in return. "Not quite yet." They slowly got their feet and moved towards the car, Cas sliding behind the wheel as Dean collapsed into the passenger seat. Dean knew he was no where near to being whole again but, he vowed, with his angel by his side, he'd at least try. And so he feel asleep, Cas driving the long road to god knows where, the shattered pieces of a broken man, beginning to piece themselves back together.