One month later

Sara gave a small sigh as she headed down the hallway to her son's bedroom, she was completely exhausted, having barely slept in days. There was always the thoughts running through her head during the night of what was happening to her eldest brother, sometimes she wished that he hadn't told her the true amount of horror that there really was down in hell, maybe it would be easier if she couldn't so easily picture it all.

A small smile found its way to her face as she pushed open the door and took a seat on the edge of his bed, pushing the covers tighter around him. "Hey, sweetie," she said softly. "You ready for bed?"

Luke simply nodded, not looking up from the object in his hands. Sara reached out as he handed it to her and turned it around to see what it was. Her chest dropped at the sight. It was a photo of him and Dean, taken not that long ago. There was a bright smile on Dean's face, genuine happiness written all over his features. He had always seemed to smile the brightest when he had been with his nephew, like there was absolutely no evil in the world, like there was nothing to haunt him during the night and no darkness waiting for him in the shadows.

"I miss him, Mom." Luke said quietly, as though he didn't really want to admit it.

Sara sighed sadly, nodding. "I know, baby." she said gently, returning the photo to the table beside his bed so that he could see it. "And, I know it's hard, but it will get better, okay? I promise you."

She said it, but she still wasn't sure that even she believed it. There were so many people she'd had to say goodbye to in the past, and it never stopped hurting. The longer that went by, the less the thought of them being gone would plague her mind, but then sometimes it would just hit her like a knife stabbing her in the chest. And then came the guilt, the guilt that time had passed without the pain of missing them like that. And after that all she was left with was the thought of being alone again.

With Sam, all she could think was that he wasn't there for her or his nephew, he hadn't been there when they all needed him, when Dean needed him the most. And that just made her miss him even more, because he was the one she needed to get past the pain caused by losing him. It all hurt the same in the end.

And she knew, Dean's death was going to leave a heartache in her son that no one would ever be able to heal, no matter what they said or did, it was never going to leave him. She had seen that in him over the past month, he just hadn't been the same kid. He was quiet, he was distant, and there was nothing she could do to make it better, because she couldn't bring him back. Sometimes she wished she had him there to help her, because when there was a problem with her son, when he was in trouble or he was upset about something, Dean was always the one she would call, and he would always make it better. Now, instead of having him there to give her backup, she felt as if she was facing everything alone.

"You know you've got me right here if you need anything. You'll always have me here." she leaned down and kissed his forehead softly. "I'll never leave you."

"I love you, Mom." he murmured, his voice growing softer as he slowly fell out of consciousness.

Sara smiled a little and pushed herself up, crossing the room towards the door. "I love you, too." she whispered, giving the room one last look over before she pulled the door over behind her and stepped out into the hallway. She released a deep sigh as she leaned back against the wall beside his bedroom door. She felt like crying, but she knew it never got her anywhere. Honestly, she didn't think that she could cry anymore, it was all she had been able to do in the days after Dean had died. The nightmares that came with it, they made everything worse, sometimes she would wake in the middle of the night and break down. And knowing where he was, having had him explain hell to her in such detail in the past, it killed her to imagine it.

From inside the room she heard her son climb out of bed, obviously having thought that she had gone back downstairs. She took a short breath to compose herself, ready to head back inside and tell him to go to sleep, but stopped as she heard him speak. His voice was soft and quiet, clearly in an attempt to stop her from hearing, but she could hear every word all the same.

"Are you there, God?" he paused for a second, as if he was waiting for an answer. "I don't know if you hear it when people ask you for things, but I wanted to ask if you could help my Mom. I don't know if she believes that you're up there, I don't think that my Uncle Dean did, but I think that you are. And if you are, I just wondered, can you make my Mom smile again? She used to smile all the time, and that made me feel like smiling, too. But she's been real sad since my Uncle Dean went away, and so have I. He used to make my Mom feel better when she was sad, but he's not here anymore, she said that he was up in heaven with my Uncle Sam. Sometimes, she can make me stop feeling sad, but there isn't anyone to stop her from being sad. And I think that if she was happy again, I would be, too."

Sara pressed a hand to her mouth in some attempt to hold back her sobs and slowly moved down the wall until she was sitting on the floor outside of his room. She wanted to cry at the innocence of him. He was still young enough that he could believe there was something better out there. He could believe that there was a good side to the world, that there wasn't just evil out there. He was so loving and so trusting, he was selfless in the way that Dean was. He didn't pray to make himself feel better, he prayed for other people. He wanted to make other people feel better, because that was what could make him feel happier, when other people smiled. He was so much like Dean sometimes it scared her. It scared her to think that one day he might do something like what Dean had done. Her brother had spent years of his life sacrificing himself and risking death to save other people, and a part of her knew that her son had that same selfless streak running through him.

It was only then, at the all too familiar sound in the next room, one that she hadn't heard in years, her heart completely dropped to her stomach. She felt sick. The sound of fluttering echoed throughout the room. She all but jumped up and turned to the doorway, pushing open the door and coming to an abrupt stop at the sight before her.

The man standing behind her son was the last person she had ever expected to lay eyes on again. He slowly turned to face her, a small smile lingering on his face. Blue eyes immediately found her green ones, still wide with shock at the sight of him. "Hello, Sara." he greeted simply.

"Castiel." she breathed out, unable to find more words through the confusion in her head.

Luke jumped up at the sound of the new voice behind him, a look of fear on his face as he looked up at the strange man standing in the middle of his bedroom. He took a step back, looking towards Sara for help. "Don't be afraid, Luke." he said quietly. "I won't hurt you."

He blinked, seeming unsure. "Who are you?"

Castiel looked to Sara, as if he was asking her whether or not he was supposed to tell him the truth. "He's an angel, Luke." she answered for him, finding her voice again, her eyes never leaving him.

"A real angel?" he asked, looking back up at him. "With wings? And a halo?" Castiel just smiled at him, seeming amused by the questions. But Luke's eyes suddenly went wide, as if he had realised something. "Can you bring back my uncle Dean? Can you go to heaven and let him back out again?"

"Hey, uh, Luke, I think it's time for bed." Sara said bluntly before Castiel could even open his mouth to answer. It wasn't a conversation she wanted her seven-year-old son to be involved in.

He looked between them but reluctantly nodded, moving back towards his bed and climbing under the covers.

Sara closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, and nodded at Castiel in indication for him to follow her out of the room. She closed the door behind them and made her way downstairs, straight to the kitchen, where she pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He could see by the way she moved, closing cupboard doors with more force than was needed, slamming down glasses whiskey bottles, she was angry. And it was at him.

"I didn't know, Sara." he tried to explain, his voice understanding. "I didn't know about Dean.

Sara span around to face him, she looked livid. "Where the hell were you, Cas?" she snapped, her tone hard, demanding answers. "Dean and I prayed to you every single day for months. We thought you were dead." He opened his mouth to say something, but he didn't get a chance. "I prayed to you when my son was lying on his deathbed, I prayed to you when Dean sold his soul for him, I prayed to you when he was going to hell, again." she shook her head. "You went back up to heaven and you didn't come back. So what happened?"

Castiel blinked, he was at a loss for words. "Sara, I.." he shook his head slowly. "I didn't know about what had happened to your son. I didn't -" He stopped himself, there was nothing he could say to her. "I couldn't leave, Sara." he told her remorsefully, his voice soft. "You know how the angels feel about you and your brothers." he sighed. "I suspect they worked to keep the angels loyal to your family from hearing you. They don't want any of us near you anymore. I couldn't leave."

"Wait," she frowned, the anger seeming to subside as realisation and guilt washed over her. "You mean, you didn't know that Dean was dead until you just heard Luke?"

Castiel shook his head slowly. "I listened for you, while I was up in heaven, I still listened, for all of you. But I didn't hear you or Dean. Ever."

Sara slowly held out a glass of whiskey to him. He had just found out that he had lost one of the best friends he had ever known, that he was once again burning in the very place he had once rescued him from. It was never an easy thing to hear about anyone. She wet her lips, hesitating with what she wanted to say to him, she wasn't sure that it was a good idea, that it would go down well with him, but a part of her knew that he was expecting the question.

"Cas," she paused, giving a small sigh. "If he wasn't where he was, if he was in heaven, you know I wouldn't ask you," she shook her head. "But I can't leave him in there. It's too much. You saw what it did to him the last time, he doesn't deserve it again, you know he doesn't." she stopped, taking a breath to compose herself. "And, if he stays down there, I'm scared that he's gonna become something that he's not."

Castiel nodded, as if to say she hadn't even needed to ask him. "I know." he replied softly. "I'm gonna do what I can, I promise you. I'll figure something out for him."

"And, Sam?" his eyes flickered up to look at her at that. "He's in heaven, right? He's okay?"

"Yeah," he took a drink of the whiskey and nodded. "Sam's fine. He's happy."

It was like she could take some comfort in that. He was away from hunting, he was away from the pain and the torment of the life they had been forced to live. He was finally at peace. She could only imagine what his heaven was like, what eternal paradise he had up there waiting for him, but she hoped that it was something good. Maybe he finally had that normal life that he had always craved so much. Whatever it was, she wouldn't pull him away from it and back down into the pain of the hunting life. Not a chance.

He finished the rest of the whiskey in his glass and sighed. "I better go. I'll be in touch."

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'll see you around."

Castiel made a move to leave but paused in the doorway, turning back to her. "Sara, I want you to know, if I would have heard, if I'd have known about what happened to your son, or if I would have known that Dean made a deal, I would've come back." he looked down, clearly remorseful. "I'm sorry."

"I know, it's alright, Cas. It wasn't your fault." she said softly, pushing up a small smile. "Just, if you go down there, if you get him, be careful. Okay? Promise me."

"Of course." He nodded slowly. "I'll see you soon, Sara."

With that, he turned and headed out of the room, pulling the door closed behind himself.