It seemed like no matter how hard he scrubbed, he couldn't get Dean's blood from his hands.

7 times.

Castiel had found his soulmate 7 times, and every time, he fell harder than the last. He decided he couldn't take it anymore.

Losing Dean. Waiting for him again for so many years. All alone.

Finally finding him. For a short time, being blissfully happy together. Only for fate to pull Dean away in the most cruel of ways.

Death.

He couldn't take it anymore. No man would have been able to. It had to stop. Their story was doomed. Be it fate, be it bigotry. They couldn't be together. He had to accept it.

So he decided. If he couldn't save him, then why not put them both out of their misery?

The first time he did it was in the early Middle Ages.

This time Dean was his neighbor. He was of little fortune and worked at the mills outside of town. They met on a sunny afternoon.

He thought the man seemed to get more beautiful every time they met. That perfect smile. Those eyes that still haunted his nights. He had tried to stay away. But he couldn't, and it seemed neither could Dean. Fate kept pushing them together. Dean. the prince in distress, and Castiel, the knight in shining armour.

So he went with it. As expected, they got along very well, which didn't surprise him anymore, them being soulmates and all.

It was easy to win his trust. Every time. How could Dean still be so trusting? All it took was a smile, a little kind attention, a couple of stolen kisses…

The more time they spent together, the harder it would be when the time came for Castiel to say goodbye…

Castiel was interrupted mid-thought by the man himself.

"Castiel!" Dean was smiling. How could fate be so cruel to such a man?

"Hello, Dean."

"I haven't seen you in awhile. Are you okay?" he asked, sporting a worried look on his face that did not suit him at all.

Castiel forced a smile. "Of course. You must excuse me, I was… busy." He made a show of bending , making Dean blush furiously.

"Would you be so kind as to accept my honest apology?" he glanced up, smiling.

"Maybe. I'll have to think about it." Dean smirked.

After checking that nobody was watching them, Castiel pulled Dean closer, their bodies flush against each other. He spoke hotly against the other man's ear: "Would a ride to the woods be enough of an apology? Just you and me. No one there to see. No one to judge."

He could feel the heat rising in Dean's cheeks, could hear his breath catching.

"Yeah, I'd like that," breathed Dean.

Castiel had somehow hoped against hope it wouldn't work. If only Dean could have been immune to him…

They had been walking in the woods for a time now. They spoke of everything and of nothing, laughing as though they had no cares in this world. Castiel wished he could capture this moment somehow, and keep it forever. He studied their surroundings. They had left their horses at the end of the path and walked for an hour or so...yes, they were far enough. Nobody would hear. Castiel prepared himself for what was to come. Dean choose that moment to speak up.

"So. I think…"

Castiel waited expectedly, knowing what was coming. "Yes?"

Dean took a deep breath. "We're soulmates, I guess."

Castiel stop in his tracks, taken aback. "What?"

Dean stopped too. "Oh, sorry. Nothing. I guess...I just figured..." He ducked his head, turning away from his companion, blushing.

Castiel held him back with a soft tug on his sleeve. He sighed. This was not going according to plan. He should already have done it. They were far enough.

"No, no. It's okay. You are quite right. We...we are soulmates. I figured it out a long time ago."

Dean beamed. It broke Castiel's heart.

"Good," Dean said, obviously unaware of Castiel's internal plight. "Because I...I know it's not very common, but...I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Castiel couldn't hold it back. He laughed, a mirthless, hollow laugh that made Dean flinch. "I wish it were that simple."

"What?" Dean seemed confused at the sudden shift in Castiel's mood.

"I'm sorry." Castiel apologized, reaching slowly for the knife in his back pocket. The moon shone on the blade, catching in the light. Dean's eyes widened.

"Uh, Cas. Cas, what are you doing?" He felt his back hit a tree trunk.

Castiel didn't say anything. He came closer. He stopped when he and Dean were mere inches apart.

Castiel brought his empty hand up and gently caressed Dean's cheek. Dean softened, leaning into the touch and closing his eyes. Castiel wouldn't hurt me, he thought reassuringly. He loves me.

And Castiel drove the blade into his chest.

Dean's eyes flew open, and the first thing he registered was pain. Then he looked down at his bloodied chest and saw a knife hilt. No.

Dean looked horrified. His hands flew up to the wrist holding the hilt, weakly trying to push it away, get it out of him. But his efforts were in vain.

He looked up at Castiel, too shocked to speak. Castiel could barely see anything through his tears, but he registered Dean's look of betrayal.

Quickly, Castiel gathered Dean's face in both his hands and kissed him, soft and tender. He pulled back and forcefully took the knife out.

Dean fell at once, and Castiel caught his body in his arms. Sitting down, he readjusted Dean so that he lay comfortably in his arms.

"I love you," he whispered to Dean. "I love you. I love you."

Dean's hand came up to his chest and felt the hole there. He was too weak to speak, but Castiel knew what he would say next.

"I didn't want to. I couldn't let them hurt you. I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry." He hugged Dean tightly to his chest.

A few minutes later, Dean's body went limp in his arms.

Castiel's whole body was shaking with unshed tears. As soon as Dean was dead, he let them out. He sobbed and sobbed for all he was worth. He begged Dean to come back, come back to him, but he knew he wouldn't.

Dean was dead. He would have to wait. He sobbed for what seemed like years, but in truth must have only been a few hours. By the time it was early dawn, he was empty.

Standing up, he thought about what had to be done.

A mercy killing. That was what it had been. I was being merciful. I didn't want to hurt him.

Even Castiel's thoughts could not erase the pain of what he had just done.

He buried Dean deep in the woods.

Nobody would know. Except for Castiel.

This was goodbye. He couldn't keep loving something that death took away so often.

He had to be prepared the next time. His emotions had almost held him back. But he had to.

He had to do this.

Not just for himself, but for Dean as well.

Castiel returned home with a heavy heart and an even heavier conscience.