A/N: Here comes the most tear-wrenching, heart clenching, and emotional wrecking part of the story. I am literally crying, which is making it difficult to type. Bear with me. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural nor Twist and Shout.

It was currently nighttime in the small motel- 10 o'clock, to be exact- and Dean hadn't moved a muscle. He sat hunched with the heavy motel bed blanket wrapped around him from head to toe. His eyes, bloodshot and gleaming with unshed tears, flicked across the laptop screen with intense focus. A box of tissues lay slightly crumpled on the nightstand, piles of used Kleenex beside it.

"Damn it, Dean, how are you going to make up for this now? Cas is sick," he said, his voice cracking. He had stopped caring about how crazy he must have looked and sounded a while ago. Dean's heart ached so badly for the characters that in the back of his mind he worried about his heart attack he'd had when he was younger. "Oh, oh good! Go visit him cause that will make everything better," he muttered sarcastically.

He held an unnatural anger towards his fictional self for leaving the story Cas the way he did. Granted, part of him understood why, but still. Dean freed one hand from his blanket cacoon and scrolled down. Keeping his eyes on the screen, Dean lifted his beer to his lips. '"Don't cry," he whispered, "I'm so happy...don't cry...I don't want you to cry."' Dean's throat tightened up and he slowly put the beer down on the nightstand.

"How do you expect me not to cry when you're lying there sick and dying?" he whispered. He knew that this Cas couldn't answer nor hear him, but he ignored that fact. His heart was slowly reaching its breaking point with each word. "Ugh, this is so damn sad. What the hell, man?" he muttered to himself. He pawed at his face, sniffling and blowing his nose in to a fresh tissue.

"...oh. Dean," he began, "...you...finally came home...to me."' If Dean hadn't been crying before, he sure as hell was sobbing now. Like a big baby, as a matter of fact. "Son of a bitch," Dean sniffled, feeling very unmanly. Not that he cared. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and kept reading. '"If you want to be happy," he said softly, "we can be happy."'

"Yes! Be happy! Make him happy, yourself happy, everyone happy!" Dean exclaimed thickly, slightly hysterical. Dean was a total emotional mess, but he still kept a hold of the sense of reality; this was a story and it wasn't actually happening. He told himself this, and yet he was practically drowning in his tears and snot. It was a good thing that Sam wasn't there or he would never let his older brother live it down.

Realizing that Sam could walk in at any second, Dean straightened, wiping his face with the Kleenex, and took in a deep, calming breath. It shook a little, but he managed to cease the torrent of emotion, at least for a little while. He hoped. He read on, memorizing the events of this beautiful, amazing story to store within his memories; he certainly did not want to forget this.

'...leaning down to kiss Cas' forehead. He stared at Dean, and Dean knew that look. It was a challenge.' Dean made a noise of contempt in the back of his throat. "Hell no. Back off, dick. He's mine," he mumbled. Thirteen hours ago, Dean would have smacked himself for saying such a comment out loud. But he had grown so attached and familiar with his story self, that he, in a strange sense, felt in sync with him.

As Dean continued to read, he found himself ceasing his commentary for a moment. He imagined what Cas had gone through, images playing in his mind like a projector movie. It was as though he was seeing things through Cas' eyes and feeling what Cas had been feeling- well, the fictional Cas, anyway. "God, I was so damn stupid," he muttered. Almost instantly, Cas' voice- the real Castiel- echoed in his mind. "You were stupid for the right reasons," he had said.

Dean felt choked, reality and fiction intertwining. "Not in this case, Cas. I ended up getting you sick," he whispered. He shook his head to clear it and focused again on the fiction before him. As Dean was exposed to Balthazar and Cas' complicated relationship, he was surprised to find that the tears had all but vanished. His swollen tear-ducts and throbbing temples certainly felt relief from the ugly sobbing.

Dean picked up the laptop and carried it with him into the bathroom. He had been doing that each time he had to go, his eyes never leaving the laptop screen or its contents. He was just pulling his jeans back up when he read something that automatically made concern blossom in his chest. Frowning deeply, Dean carefully made his way back into the now familiar perch on his motel bed.

"Drugs? Cas...took drugs? No, no, that's awful. He couldn't have...Damn it, Meg, even in fiction you can be a real pain in the ass," Dean muttered. He was chewing on his thumbnail again, the blanket hanging halfway on his shoulders. His heart bled for the story Cas and he desperately wished that he could find a way to fix things.

'"It must have been me, why else? Why wouldn't he touch me? He wouldn't touch me...I'm disgusting..."' The sound Dean made could only be described as the noise an injured puppy would make; not so much a whine, but also not a whimper. It was a mixture of the two. "No, Cas, it wasn't you...it was never you. It was me- I mean, Dean. Not Dean, but the war...that goddamn war," he whispered. His fingers curled over his jaw as he leaned his cheek against his hand.

'"I never stopped loving you," Dean said. "Even- even when..." Cas sobbed. Dean kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him.' The real Dean Winchester, the big and bad hunter that would kill a monster without blinking an eye, had begun a slow, dry heaving sort of sobbing fit. There were no tears, but a sort of keening hummed from the back of his throat. "Sonofabitch...what is this shit?" he murmured, his voice thick and slurred.

Dean forced himself to continue reading, as much as it made his heart ache in sorrowful anticipation. He gasped then a tearful grin stretched across his face. "Jess and Sammy...had a baby? A girl? Oh, that's- that's so great," he said to no one in particular. "He became a lawyer?" Dean felt a burst of warm pride in his chest and he couldn't stop grinning, despite the whole situation.

'But then reality set in, and Dean knew that none of those things were going to be possible.' Dean punched the bed, making the springs within the mattress squeal in protest. "Why not?! Why can't Cas watch the baby grow with me?! Why can't we be together?! Why can't everything be okay?!" He knew that the other tenants could probably hear him, but Dean was on a rampage. Gradually, he calmed and continued to grumble under his breath as he continued reading.

'The way that Cas had told him that he loved him over the sound of the waves, shouting across the beach, grinning.' Dean gulped and looked up at the ceiling, sniffling again. "And...we're back to the heart-wrench," he mumbled. Yeah, he would definitely be bringing Cas along when Sam and Dean went to the beach. Especially after this story.

Dean glanced back down at the screen, reading more, then stopped again. "Whoa, wait. Hold on a second," he said, pulling the laptop closer. Mumbling under his breath, Dean read down the page, eyes flicking wildly. "Does...does he not remember? What, he has amnesia or something?" he said. Dean hadn't realized just how close to the screen he was leaning until his nose brushed against it. He leaned back just enough to not fog up the screen and kept reading with fierce intensity.

'"Castiel Novak has no immune system," he said calmly.' Without thinking, Dean's eyebrows furrowed together and his mouth opened and closed in confusion. "What do you mean he has no immune system?" he said loudly. He nearly fell off of the bed when he read those exact words from his fictional self's mouth.

'We're gonna lose him.' Dean's whole being seemed to freeze. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened ever so slightly. His face contorted into a silent sob and he twisted his head away from the laptop screen. He clenched his teeth so tightly, his jaw creaked and popped painfully. "No...come on, please, no," he breathed, "Not Cas...please not him."

Sam was just placing the final item in his shopping cart when his cell phone buzzed. "That took longer than I thought," he muttered, flipping it open. He stared at his brother's name for a moment then pressed the green answer button.

"What question do you have for me this time, Dean?"

"D-does...what happens to Cas? He makes it out okay, right?"

Sam stopped walking, his heart sinking in dread; part of him knew that Dean would ask, but Sam really did not want to be the one to crush his brother's heart. He took a deep breath and carefully brought the phone to his other ear. "I'm not telling you anything. Keep reading and find- wait, have you been reading since this morning?" Sam asked.

He did the math in his head and shifted the phone against his ear, pushing his long hair out of his eyes. "Dean, you've been reading for thirteen and a half hours?!" The other line was silent, giving Sam his answer. He cursed under his breath and stopped to look at the items in his basket. 'Is this really such a good idea?' he thought, biting his lip.

The sudden mental image of Dean sitting on his bed, gross and sobbing like a chick, gave him the motivation to get into the check-out line. "Sammy, please, just...tell me what happens," Dean whispered. Sam wanted to tell his brother- he really did-, but instead he hung up without a word. Dean didn't care at that moment anyway. He tossed the phone to the sheets, his eyes glued to the screen.

He was worried now as he read the few final chapters of Twist and Shout. His throat was scratchy from yelling, his eyes were throbbing from preventing himself from crying, and his back was stiff from sitting in the same position for hours on end. Dean didn't mind, though. He took a deep inhale then let it out slowly, clicking the down arrow to scroll.

'"How am I supposed to be happy without you?" Dean rasped. "How do I do that? You're everything. You've always been everything."' The words stuck a cord in Dean's heart and he suddenly realized something: it was true. Castiel- the real Castiel, angel of the lord and third member to their party-, really was everything to Dean. There was no use denying it anymore.

Keeping this tidbit of realization in the back of his mind, Dean's green eyes scanned across the page, taking in the words that threw him into a melancholic state once more. As he clicked for the next chapter, Dean took the opportunity to shift positions. He slid the laptop forward and lay on his stomach, tucking his arm under his chest. He snatched a pillow from behind him and set it down under his chin.

Settled, Dean noticed that he was nearing the final chapter. He tapped at the arrow key, eyes darting over the page to soak in every word. He was not expecting the projector or the beach movie. He would have to punch a wall or kill some random monster later just to feel manly again after this story. Dean could feel the tears slowly rolling down his cheeks, but this time he ignored them.

He focused on the story, his heart getting closer and closer to breaking with each sentence. Dean was just shifting his weight on the pillow when he read it. 'Cas died on a Thursday. It was sunny. Late afternoon. Beautiful California weather.' The sound he made was inhuman; Dean's heart had finally snapped. Snot and tears and ugly heaves of gut-wrenching sobs pretty much took over Dean.

He had to force himself to continue reading. With each paragraph, his sobs grew increasingly louder and more wet with tears. '"It's alright," he said to the stillness. Another wave broke when Cas breathed. '"It's alright. You can let go, I know-I know you're holding on, because you're worried. You're too stubborn, Cas, and I know you're holding on for me, but I'm going to do the right thing this time. I'm not-I'm not going to make you wait on me again."'

Dean buried his face into the pillow, biting it with a muffled yell. "What the actual hell, man?! This is too much! It's too sad. How the-," he broke off with another thick sob. He lifted his head and read through blurry eyes. He was okay for maybe a few seconds then his eyes widened. Tears were falling in torrents now and his mouth was open in a silent wail.

'"Wise men say," he began, "only fools rush in..." He slid his hand to Cas' lap, closing it around Cas' cold fingers.' Dean sobbed like a broken record, hiccuping and clutching at the pillow in a vise grip. "They sing the song?!...oh God the ocean and the 'I love you's...we're still singing. I can't take much more of this," Dean whimpered.

'"No, I love him," he said weakly. "I love him." He pushed back against Tessa, his legs shaking. "You don't-you don't understand," he tried again, but no one was listening, "That's-that's my baby," he whimpered, "please, that's my baby."' Whatever self-control Dean had left, he just lost it. With a harsh cry, Dean wailed in sorrow. He kept reading, but he kept saying no on repeat.

Dean managed to read to the part with Cas' letter and, just as he was reading the last line, his lower lip started trembling and his teeth chattered. '"See you then"' Dean made an angry skipping sort of sob and slammed his finger on the mouse, advancing to the final chapter. "This is the worst thing I've ever read. This is the best thing I've ever read. Holy shit," he garbled.

"Oh, the damn funerallll...," Dean drawled, drawing out the last part in a sort of keen. He now had a pile of Kleenex about the height of the laptop and he was still adding to it. Dean heard the distant crying of a baby from another room in the motel and managed a dry, bitter laugh. "Same, kid, same," he muttered. He continued reading, his tears very, very slowly ceasing.

"Damn, everyone is crying in here," he commented, reading about his fictional self meeting Rachel. His phone was buzzing again, but he ignored it, having been drawn into the world of Twist and Shout for the last time. "Oh, I wish you were real, Abby. I wish that you and Jess were here to make Sammy happy," Dean murmured. His chest, already tight from crying, warmed a little, the sensation making him shudder.

Dean scrolled down, a small smile on his face now, and read the last and final words of the story that changed his life. 'Dear Cas.' Dean stared at the computer for about ten minutes then, moving with the speed of a sloth, closed the laptop. His eyes were raw and puffy, his throat was raspy and had a lump in it, and he was still hiccuping mini heaving sobs. "Well...Sam's going to get bitched at for having me suffer like this," Dean said.

He was just reaching for his cellphone when he heard the door click open.

A/N: I was Dean the entire time I was writing this. I have concerns about my keyboard because of all the tears that fell on it. I have a part 3, but I'll give you all some time to get over this chapter before I throw another one out there. Thanks so much for the support, everyone. It really makes my soul feel all warm and fuzzy.