A/N: This is my first ever fic for Supernatural, and so far I'm feeling happy with it. This chapter is just to get things started. I know there's not enough Cas yet, but keep reading after this and he'll come around more. I promise.
The fic takes place right after the season five finale - "Swan Song". I have disregarded everything that takes place afterwards. Well, not everything - I've kept a few of the things shown about Dean's 'new' life from season six. But mostly it's changed. Sam is gone, he's not coming back. Which means Castiel isn't going on a quest to restore Heaven. You'll see what he does instead as the story unfolds. Other than that, I'm keeping all of the canon through season five. (If I mess up on ANYTHING, feel free to call me out!)
The basis for the muse of this fic is the song "Devil's Backbone" by The Civil Wars. It's like a running theme in my head for emotions and whatnot. I suggest listening to the song before getting into reading.
And that is all I have to say for now! Enjoy the read and, as always, I love to hear your feedback :D

Every single morning felt too easy now. And at the same time, mornings now felt like waking up to a hellish alter reality. A reality that Dean hated to admit was just how things were now.

Most people would think his new 'apple pie life' was normal. It might have even been close to perfect from the outside. He had Lisa and Ben and a job he was good at and weekends off. Most people wouldn't be able to find a single flaw in what he was doing.

But most people didn't know the backstory. They didn't know what he'd gone through to get to this point. And they didn't know what he used to have.

Dean had promised his brother Sam that he wouldn't try to bring him back. He swore he would come back to this family that was foolish enough to claim him and allow his brother to remain lost. But that was a promise he wasn't sure he could keep. His first instinct was to come here, that was for sure. He had wanted to do as he was asked. But shortly after arriving, that itch started to settle in. All his life, there had been one constant. One thing that did not fail him or change or truly leave him. It was Sam. His father went out on hunts and sometimes abandoned them for weeks, once or twice it was months. Their mother had passed tragically when he was too young to fully understand it. They moved around too much for any one person to have a lasting effect on him. But Sam was always there.

Even when he wasn't – when he went off to college and tried to make a normal life for himself – Dean always carried his younger brother with him. Those years without him felt like torture, being the only one to take the brunt of their Father's orders. How exactly was he supposed to, then, go the rest of his life with that pain? Especially when the pain was a thousand-fold harsher from knowing that Sam was dead this time and not just trying to escape the lifestyle they had been forced into all their childhood.

They had been through this too many times already. Dying and coming back and trading souls and time for one another. Sam had started the whole system by finding that faith healer years ago! Without even knowing the hands of fate he was tipping, he had forced someone else to give their life for Dean. It didn't seem fair that he wouldn't be receiving that favor again this time.

That was the way he had wanted it, though. He had been so adamant on the issue. And though Dean searched for some way to barter for Sam to return from that pit that was likely tearing him to pieces, he kept to his bargain. He looked, but never actually tried any of the flightless possibilities he found. None of them would have worked, anyway.

Dean hardly slept these days. Truthfully, he hadn't enjoyed a full night's sleep since Sam's death. Some nights he awoke from a night terror and found he was reluctant to close his eyes again. Others, he couldn't even hope to fall asleep to begin with. And, others still, he would do everything he could to distract himself from the need to rest his eyes even for a moment.

He drank too much, he was often distant or short-tempered, and his emotions were like barely-attached wires. Why Lisa kept him around, he couldn't even fathom.

"Dean...?"

The soft, hesitant voice floated to Dean as if through a wall. Shaking his head to rid himself of his stupor, he turned over onto his other side in their bed to look at her. Even in his state, he couldn't help the quirking upturn at the corner of his lips. Just a hint of a smile - which was at least something to indicate his state for the morning. He was at least partially partaking in the world. "Yeah," he whispered, capturing one of her dark, wavy curls and twirling it around his finger absently.

Lisa returned the smile, though it enveloped her entire face in a way Dean could never understand. She was always so happy to wake and find him in her bed. Her eyes always said she expected him not to still be by her side. "Good morning..."

Her mood was infectious. Grinning toothily, Dean flipped over a little further and moved to cage the woman in with his arms. The bare inches of their skin grazed together, for the moment replacing his thoughts of nightmares with less complicated desires. Their lips slicked together, forming lazy morning kisses.

"Dean, it's Saturday," Lisa whispered as the man slipped one hand beneath her back to pull her closer. His fingers softly dug into the spot where her nightgown quit covering her back. He always had a way of holding her so passionately, even just for a second. Making her feel completely safe and enveloped sometimes with just a simple touch.

"I know." The way Dean carded his fingers through her hair clearly conveyed that he had no idea why that should mean anything to him. It was the weekend – two days off of work and the sudden need to make them count. "No school for Ben, no work for us, no weekend barbecue to attend. We should do something. We should…do something – all three of us. Fishing or tourist-trap hitting or…something." He chuckled softly, setting his lips to Lisa's neck before ghosting his fingertips over the sensitive flesh.

The noise the woman under him made in response was almost anguished. Lisa placed a gentle hand to Dean's chest and he pulled back, sensing the soft letdown. "I have those new classes to teach – starting today."

Dean's heart sank just a little bit and he breathed a soft sigh. "Right…I forgot…." A few seconds later, the alarm clock began blaring on Lisa's side of the bed. She reached over to turn it off, but didn't force her boyfriend to move away. She did, however, pull him back in for another lingering kiss. One that told him she wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with him for even another few minutes. To give him that type of reassurance in his new life that he seemed to always be searching for. Something she understood and could never be offended by because she knew what he'd been through. Not all of it – he was often reluctant to share details of his life and his childhood. He said the memories he had were too scarring to talk about.

And that was all okay. As long as he was here and she could help him with even just that fact…everything was okay. They had it good here.

"I guess you should get ready, then," Dean said resignedly and settled up onto his knees. He stretched his arms above his head, grinning at the way Lisa's eyes followed the flex of the muscles hidden under his plain, white t-shirt. He winked in response, doing that head tilt that made any of his cheeky actions come off in a strange mixture of sexy and adorable. And without giving her a moment to fully think on that, he gave her one last kiss and crawled out of bed.

Laughing softly to herself, Lisa also rolled to her feet and ran her fingers through the fine hairs at the base of Dean's hair. "Mow the lawn today, okay? Maybe the three of us can go for dinner tonight." And with that, she was disappearing into their bathroom. Leaving Dean once again alone with his thoughts.

A darkness shifted into his eyes for a moment, just before he was able to shake the regrets clouding them. He pulled on jeans over his boxers, scratching at the scruff on his jaw as he headed for the kitchen. Ben was already awake, settled in a stool at the kitchen island with some sort of portable gaming system. They nodded at one another, sharing small smiles in greeting. "Hungry?"

Ben nodded quietly, closing his game and sliding off the stool. "I can start the eggs," he offered and tugged open the refrigerator door.

It was a normal morning, just like any other in his less-exciting, new life. Not that a lack of excitement was unwelcome. Dean had to admit that a year of pretending the world wasn't full of evil ready to strike was romantic in a way. But he also couldn't ignore the uncomfortable itch that came along with it.

It didn't feel right not to be hunting something for so long...

As if on cue, a sound Dean hadn't heard in much too long caught his attention. He frowned, stopping his hand mid-way through flipping a pancake. It fell onto the stove, but he didn't care. He had to make sure he wasn't hallucinating the sound. It was something he hadn't heard since...

"Is that your phone?" Lisa's question hit him like a brick wall. He wasn't hearing things.

Neglecting the pancakes for the moment, Dean stepped back from the stove and dug his hand in pocket. His fingers curled around the basic cell phone settled next to his newer model. It was something he kept in service, but paid little attention to nowadays. He had a feeling Bobby had told the other hunters they knew not to call Dean. But it was ringing now - he could see the screen lit up in his hands. "Yeah," he muttered in response and leaned back against the countertop. "Yeah, it's my, uh... My old number." He ended with another head-tilting frown, watching the device give one last ring before silencing.

Sighing, Lisa took over where Dean left off at the stove. She eyed him and watched the stability fading from his features. After turning away from the man, she shared a concerned look with Ben before mussing his hair. "I want you to help Dean with yard work this morning," she said with a faint smile. It was her attempt to change the subject.

An attempt that was noticeably futile when the ringer went off once again. This time Dean paid attention to the information of the call. It was a number not saved in his contacts. That uncertainty of not knowing who was on the other line was what caused his thumb to hesitate over the 'answer' button. It could be anyone... Someone he knew, someone he didn't - anyone.

The only thing Dean knew for sure was that there was one person it definitely was not. And that thought caused his heart to sink measurably.

Running his left hand rather roughly over his mouth and across the stubble on his chin, Dean made a rash decision to just answer the call. He brought it up to his ear as he walked briskly from the room, eager to hide the distressed sag of his shoulders from the other two.

They wouldn't understand.

Dean didn't speak a word as he held the phone in a vice grip to his ear. He wasn't really sure why - he just knew he didn't want to speak first. He needed to know who was calling him before he decided if he would say anything at all.

"Hello, Dean."

"Cas..."

The whispered name was as natural as a breath of air leaving Dean's lips. He hadn't said it in so long, and yet it still felt as easy as ever. It was like the last year hadn't been spent away from one another. It still felt like they could be fighting off the apocalypse - and that thought made his heart feel like it was on fire with worry again.

For a long moment, both men were silent. The tension was palpable, but wasn't suffocating. It was...almost comfortable in a way. Castiel had always been someone of few words. Dean would have been shocked if he had started off with a long dialogue.

"What did you need, Cas?" he asked finally.

Is it about Sam? was what he wanted to add on, but that question was pointless. Of course it wasn't about Sam. Sam was gone. There was nothing changing that. Things would never be about Sam again. He would even be willing to go through his brother's demon blood addiction fiasco again if it meant something could be about him. Just one more time.

There was a ruffling noise on the other end that Dean couldn't quite identify. Then a soft, sad noise – a sniffle? – before Castiel spoke again. "I need your help, Dean. Bobby has already warned me that you are 'out of the lifestyle'," the air-quotes were almost comically present in his tone, "but you would be doing me a great favor."

'Out of the lifestyle'. That meant hunting something. Dean couldn't deny the small rush he felt at that prospect, but he knew he had to settle it. Bobby was right – he was done with hunting. Hunting reminded him of Sammy and he just couldn't do that anymore. It would feel too much like getting gripped around the heart – and he knew that feeling all-too-well by this point. And, besides, Lisa and Ben were in his life now. He couldn't just pack up and leave them. They were his family and practically all he had left in the world. He wasn't about to give up that safety net and throw it all away for some case he was sure some other hunter could handle just fine.

"I can't, Cas," he said, his voice low almost like he was whispering. "I don't hunt anymore. Besides, if it involves you, chances are this has to do with angel and demon crap. And I just don't fucking feel like being a part of that anymore. No offense, Cas, but I'd be happy never to see either brand of douchebag again."

Dean didn't necessarily mean that. He did miss Castiel. Cas…. He was his friend, when it came down to it. He had been the one to bring him back from hell. Yes, he had just been following orders, but through the time spent with him, the meaning had changed. And he had changed. Cas had rebelled against heaven to side with the Winchesters and their mission to derail the apocalypse. Through that time, there was a part of him that became slightly human. He still walked with that stick up his ass and talked with measured words, but he wasn't solely an angel anymore. He was different than the others.

So, really, he did mean that he didn't want to see demons and angels ever again. Both species had done their part to ruin his life. But if he could see Cas, just once to talk to him or just see him, that could be okay…. Possibly. If the memories weren't too harsh.

"This has nothing to do with angels or demons, Dean," Cas said on a sigh. The sadness in his tone was rather heartbreaking. "You would be doing a personal favor to me. I am staying at the Welcome Inn Motel in Union City, Michigan. It would mean a great deal to me if you would come."

The line went dead after that. Dena found himself pulling the phone away from his ear and just staring at the screen as it blinked the call-ended message. The conversation had been short – maybe too short – but it had left his head spinning nonetheless.

He had already said he wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to follow Cas and whatever problem he had currently landed himself in. He wasn't going to hunt again!

And yet, there was this little part of him that longed so desperately for it. What he couldn't figure out, however, was if that longing was for seeing Castiel or getting back into a life he was afraid to admit he missed.

"Dean?" Lisa's voice was soft as she came to his side. She was always so soft in the most startling of ways…. He blinked, still staring at the phone and shook his head. Trying to clear his mind and actually articulate a response. "Dean, who was it?"

Taking in a deep breath, he raised his eyes to his girlfriend. They swam with the phantom pain of tears that he tried his damnedest to blink away. She looked on at him concerned, but kept her distance. She knew what could happen if she came too close too quickly. In the past, his flashbacks had sometimes been violent.

Before he could even begin to answer that question, Dean needed to take stock of himself. He needed to figure out exactly where his head was. He stepped back, looking back down at the floor. His fingers were still clenched around the cell phone so tight it was threatening to break. A million conflicting thoughts swam through his head and his heart pounded harshly against his ribcage. It felt like he was having a heart attack as he was simultaneously forced to make a life or death situation. He was being torn in two different directions, the two sides of his ever-warring heart unable to agree, as usual.

"It was an old friend," he said cautiously, leaning back against the wall and running his fingers through his hair. It stuck up on end, but he didn't notice. His distraction was too blinding. "Someone I haven't talked to since…." His stomach turned and he fought it off. "He…. It seems like he wants me to come in on a hunt…." Even though he was visibly shaken, he wasn't holding anything back from his girlfriend. She knew the rougher parts of him. She was practically the only person he trusted with his story and the truth about him and his life at this point.

Lisa's face was clear of emotion for a moment. She steeled herself, not wanting to act rashly. The first sign she even made of acknowledging the unspoken question of whether he should go or not was the casual glance to the clock hanging on the wall near Dean's head. "I will support whatever decision you need to make," she said, stepping forward carefully to lean in for a kiss. Dean barely returned it, but secured his arm around her waist to show he appreciated her understanding. "Just take Ben to my sister's before you leave…."

She already knew what Dean's decision was going to be. His old life had come knocking back at his door and she could see the lust for it in his eyes. He could tell himself that he liked being settled down and family-oriented, but she knew that wasn't fully true. Lisa could see that he was a restless man who needed to be doing something tougher than block parties and school functions day-to-day to be satisfied. Maybe he used the whole hunting thing as a distraction from…well, anything, but it seemed to be a distraction he liked. One he had grown accustomed to in his life. And how could she rightfully deny him that? It was a part of him – like a limb – that existed far before she spent the night with him that changed her life.

"I have to go. Call me, okay?"

Dean nodded and watched her go back into the kitchen before leaving. He heard her speaking to Ben, telling him that she would get him after she was finished teaching her yoga classes. That Dean was going away for a little while. And all he had to say was 'okay' in return. They both were fine with this? They knew where he was going, right? They knew he was possibly getting back into his old life? They knew that this could possibly end one day because of that? They knew that if he left right now he may never come back? Right? They had to.

Wordlessly, Dean made for the garage door. He closed it behind him, leaving his hesitations inside. Lisa was sure this was fine – so he could be, too. It was one small hunt. And maybe it wouldn't even be a case at all. Cas could just need him for…other reasons. He was absolutely inept when it came to most human things. If he was on Earth, he could have just gotten himself in a bit of trouble. It could be a small fix. It could be just fine.

This could be the small taste of the old life he needed to confirm that he needed to be here.

As Dean crossed to the Impala and pushed off her tarp, he knew he didn't believe that. "You're a beautiful sight, Baby," he said proudly and ran his fingers over the smooth, black paint. He'd been storing the car for a year now - hadn't been behind the steering wheel or touched the arsenal in the trunk since driving here from Kansas.

There was definitely something reawakening inside of Dean. He could feel that familiar rush in his veins that his 'normal' life used to supply. It was definitely tinged with sadness after what happened last year, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He was no stranger to loss. Sure, this one was worse than anything else he'd ever had to endure...

But just being out here, standing next to the family car that stood for so much, he knew he could already feel Sam's presence again. Not in a haunted type of way, but definitely like he was more than just a distant memory. Sam had wanted him to come back to Lisa and Ben and have a family like they had never been allowed to experience before. But was that really what he wanted for his brother? To forget him and what they went through all those years? To give up every good or bad memory of him and trade it for something he still wasn't sure he even deserved?

"Do I get to ride in her?" Ben asked from the doorway, clear excitement in his voice. Dean turned to look at him, noticeable tears in his eyes and couldn't help the prideful glint the candy-apple green took on. He chuckled under his breath, blinking away the emotions, and headed back into the house with a nod.

He still wasn't sure what going to 'help Cas' was going to do to him. He had no idea what even lay in store for him out there. How it would make him feel. What light he would view this family in when he returned. If he would ever return. But he knew he could figure that out. He had a quiet drive ahead of him to muscle through it all.

This was something he needed. Reconnecting with that life he had so easily given up would be something good for them all in the end. He needed to know what he was giving up at least one more time. If he was going to spend the rest of his life in the suburbs throwing kids' birthday parties and making small talk with the neighbors, he had to know that it was for sure what he wanted.

"I'm still doing this for you, Sammy," Dean whispered as he gripped the steering wheel tight.

Ben stood in the doorway of his aunt's house, watching the only father he had ever known drive away.

There was a definite air of uncertainty hanging between them. The future wasn't set in stone - but was it ever when it came to Dean? What happened would happen, regardless of lingering feelings begging to be heard.

The jet-black,1967 Chevy Impala flew along Interstate 69 as if it belonged there. And she did. If she wasn't out on the road with a Winchester, what was the point? This was how things were supposed to be – Dean in the driver's seat, blaring Zeppelin to drown out those strongly buried feelings. He loved Lisa and he looked at Ben as his own son, but nothing could ever compare to this right here. It felt more like home than the house he was leaving behind. And he knew that if he ever decided to go back, it would never feel as true and real as this right here. Going on a case, meeting up with Cas – saving people and hunting things.

Dean had no doubt that this was going to hurt. He already had to catch himself from looking over to the passenger seat for his brother. He had to focus extra hard on the roads he was taking to get through the distracted buzz in the corner of his mind. It was different this time, there was no mistaking that. And it wasn't even like those times he had gone off without Sam. He wasn't just on his own this time and he knew that. This wasn't a quick rendezvous with Castiel for inside angel information. This time there was a reason he hadn't seen Cas in so long, other than just that they were both busy keeping the world together.

Sam's death was the rat gnawing at the edges of his brain. And the closer he came to the location Cas asked for them to meet, the louder that gnawing became. The louder he would have to turn up his music. The louder he would have to sing along.

As he rolled into Union City, he felt jittery. It was like he had slammed down five cups of coffee in the matter of a few minutes. He was thankful to put the Impala in park and get out to stretch his legs at a gas station. Without a doubt, there was a part of him that was eager to see Cas, but he needed to brace himself for a moment. To take a break and fill up the car.

He needed just one more moment to think this through before jumping back into a hunt. He needed to make sure that this was for sure what he should be doing.