Chapter Six: Off Script

Notes: Again, a huge thanks to everyone who has liked/read/reviewed. You guys have been an incredible encouragement and I'm so happy you've liked it so far :D

Please forgive any mistakes and enjoy.

So don't be afraid

To let them show

Your true colors

True colors are beautiful

Castiel was conflicted, which led to confusion, which led to silence. Castiel was an angel - he was supposed to trust in his Father and not question. Of course his Father was right. His Father was the Creator, he was always right and every action he asked of Castiel was for a good reason.

Right?

But… something had changed that he couldn't deny. Castiel used to take such pride in his position. He was always in the right; he was always helping humanity. He used to be given tasks of healing and guidance. To watch over the humans of earth and lend his hand when he was able. He used to be allowed to interact with people. To talk to humans and speak freely of Heaven and its glory.

Now, he was told to never contact humans… it's safer for them, Michael had said. Castiel didn't understand, but he didn't question.

However, the bare truth of the matter was Castiel was conflicted. What Michael was doing… it couldn't be right. Those were dangerous thoughts for an angel, Castiel knew. Castiel had to decide… it was the biggest decision he would ever make.

He spent days in Heaven praying on his knees to his Father. He was never answered but he hadn't really been expecting an answer. He had already made up his mind.

Castiel decided to approach the situation with caution.

Castiel found Michael exactly where he knew he'd be. Michael had molded a part of Heaven to resemble a human office. Castiel was easily given access by the guards and the doors opened to reveal his brother sitting behind a large wooden desk. Michael looked up when Castiel walked in.

"Castiel," Michael greeted. "Are you in need of something?"

Castiel hesitated. "I wanted to ask a question."

Michael's eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned back in the large chair. He brought his hands up and laced his fingers together, bright silver eyes never leaving Castiel's.

"Sit down, brother," Michael said and Castiel obeyed. "What is your question?"

"I understand," Castiel said. "That the apocalypse is our greatest concern… yet I do not understand why we must start it before it absolutely must be started."

Michael's eyes flared. "It isn't your place to understand, Castiel. Our Father decreed that the apocalypse shall begin on our terms. Which is better, to start it now and be prepared or wait for it to 'just happen' and be unprepared?"

Those were valid points. But…

"I thought Lucifer couldn't escape," Castiel said. "The cage was crafted by our Father's own hand."

"That it was," Michael agreed. "Yet our Father never intended it to hold Lucifer forever. Humanity will never be free while Lucifer lives. Not truly."

"I understand," Castiel said, although he still wasn't sure. "But I don't believe in what you want me to do. I… have met Sam multiple times now and he-he doesn't seem evil."

Castiel jumped when Michael slammed his hand on the table, his power thickening the air of the room.

"You think Lucifer seemed evil?" Michael snarled. "I'll tell you, Castiel, he didn't. He was… beautiful and charming and caring. The purest example of our kind. You have never met him, I have. You will listen to me when I tell you that the Winchester boy is evil. He will say yes to Lucifer and he will be destroyed. That is final."

The pure hatred in Michael's voice made Castiel feel cold. Castiel wasn't used to such feelings, which only seemed to intensify them. Michael sounded bloodthirsty and… Castiel had never heard that in an angel.

He didn't need to continue the conversation. That hatred convinced Castiel. These orders were not his Father's, they were Michael's. Michael, for some reason, wanted to fight Lucifer. And that was dangerous.

Yet, Castiel had no idea what to do about it.

Castiel ducked his head, apologized for his interruption, and excused himself. He needed to think.

Days later, Castiel still hadn't heard anything from his… from the Winchesters. Castiel was sitting by a river somewhere in… Norway, he thought, but he wasn't sure.

He felt like he should be doing something. He was much more capable of fighting the Horsemen than two humans but Michael insisted the Winchesters had to accomplish this task. It was to prepare them for the final battle, Castiel thought.

It was cold out, Castiel noted, not that it bothered him. The rock he was sitting on was ground smooth, indicating the river was once much higher than it was now.

Castiel sighed. What could he do? What difference could one angel make?

Absently, Castiel grabbed a nearby stick and started tracing the wet sand with it. He had watched children do this for centuries. Castiel liked watching humanity… it was amazing how different yet incredibly similar people were.

Castiel slowly started to make lines that formed words, maybe just to see them out loud, because he wasn't sure he was brave enough to do what he wanted. He didn't even know what he was planning to do… not really.

He wrote out: I am going to defy Michael

Castiel closed his eyes. Michael was his brother, his family, and he was going to betray that? Seeing it spelled out made it more real, yet it also gave him a strange jolt of confidence.

Castiel opened his eyes to stare at the words longer… but they were gone. Instead, a new set of words were written: Do you truly intend to rebel

Castiel stood up fast, looking around. He didn't see anyone… had Michael been watching him? But no, that was not Michael's handwriting… it was much too messy to be. Then who…?

A smarter angel would have fled, Castiel, however, was too curious for his own good.

Slowly, Castiel gripped the stick and carved a single word: Yes

"Awesome."

Castiel spun around, flicking his blade into his hand. Before him stood an angel with a face he didn't recognize. Well… he might not recognize the face… but the unmistakable power of an Archangel encompassed this person… Castiel immediately figured out who this was… the lost son of Heaven.

"Gabriel?" Castiel breathed.

"Very astute," Gabriel gave a half-smile and a short bow. "I always wondered when one of you would break rank."

"I…," Castiel wanted to deny it, but he couldn't very well do that now. "How did you… find me?"

Gabriel quirked a brow. "What's Michael teaching you guys in angel Sunday school nowadays? I am Heaven's messenger, after all. You write something, I read it."

"Are you going to turn me over to Michael?" Castiel asked, bracing himself for a fight. Not that it would be a fight. Castiel was good, but he was nothing compared to an Archangel.

"Are you?" Gabriel asked, lifting a shoulder. "I mean, I've been the one on the run for a few thousand years."

"You don't care that I plan to rebel?"

"Care?" Gabriel asked, rolling his eyes. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't care. No, Cassie, I'm going to help you."

And honestly, Castiel didn't know how to respond to that.

"Dammit all!" Michael's grace whipped around the room like a hurricane, tearing apart his illusion of normality. His power had already burned through the vessel he was in, his brilliant wings flaring out behind him, ready for anything.

Just then, he felt Raphael fly to him. The only reason Raphael could withstand the pure power of the room was because he too, was an Archangel. To any lesser angel, just standing near Michael would be fatal.

"Brother," Raphael's usually calm voice was sharply edged.

"Raphael," Michael turned his fiery eyes to the other. "It seems our dear little brother has resurfaced."

Raphael's controlled face broke with emotion. Hope, relief, longing. "Gabriel?"

"Yes," Michael hissed. "I felt the shift minutes ago but I couldn't pin down exactly where he was. As it seems, he didn't return to help - Castiel's grace fell from my sight just after."

Realization struck Raphael. "Gabriel is… Castiel is rebelling?"

"What do you think?" Michael sneered. "That forsaken demon was right, Castiel was a risk. And now Gabriel… ha. Pathetic."

"But," Raphael began to protest, then stopped himself. Michael knew that the talk of collaborating with demons didn't sit well with Raphael.

Michael probably should too. Demons were the creations of Lucifer, the enemies of Heaven. But Michael couldn't bring himself to care. At first, his uncaring scared him, but now, even fear couldn't touch him.

In fact, Michael didn't feel anything anymore… he didn't feel love for his family, not even his Father. The only exception was Lucifer. For Lucifer, he felt… hate. Blinding, unchained hatred. Hate was the only thing he felt anymore and yet, he craved feeling that hate.

Lucifer had to die. Lucifer would die.

If he had to kill every angel in Heaven and every human on earth to do it, he would.

Because Lucifer would die. No matter the cost.

"Raphael," Michael said, his voice darkening dangerously. "I need you to go collect the Winchesters. The End is starting sooner than we planned."

"I mean, it's just not here," Dean said, flipping the old book closed and leaning back. "We've been at this for hours."

"I know I saw it somewhere," Sam was muttering, his face jammed in a book so old the title had faded off. "I just… no."

Dean rolled his eyes, and stood, his muscles protesting at being still for so long. "Well, you do that but I'm getting a drink. Want one?"

Dean didn't wait for a response because he didn't need one. Sam had launched straight into research mode after their whole 'Michael and Lucifer exist' realization. Of course, he didn't know what Sam would find that they didn't already know. He had mentioned asking Castiel, but Sam had pulled a face.

And Dean understood, he didn't really like the guy either.

The situation with the hunters wasn't clearing up anytime soon, either. However, it didn't seem like they were in immediate danger just then. Bobby was on damage control, trying to convince the hunters they were gravely mistaken.

Apparently, as news of John's death spread, a nasty rumor had popped up saying him and Sam being the one to kill their father. And, god, did that make Dean's blood boil. Their dad deserved better than his name being dragged through the mug by rumors.

Bobby was up to his knees in trying to keep the hunters at bay, but hunters were notoriously stubborn. Dean knew that they were going to have to do something about it all eventually, but they had bigger things to worry about.

As Dean was grabbing the two bottles from the refrigerator, he was stopped by the form of his brother in the doorway. The look across Sam's face had him putting down the bottles.

"Dean," Sam said, holding out the book he was holding. "Look at this."

Dean did, his eyes zeroing in on the paragraph Sam was pointing at.

'And thus, befallen be the bearers, the harbingers of crusade. Fallen be the Four for the Serpent be arisen from surrender, fourfold. Foretold be the End, in wake of the Fallen. Arisen be the Serpent from the Fallen. Arisen be the End from the Serpent by the Warrior. Arisen, be the New.'

"Dean," Sam was saying, a shadow over his face. "I think we're being played."

Dean nodded, because as far as cryptic ancient texts went, that one was pretty straightforward. Not for the first time, Dean cursed the deal he made. He knew it had been stupid… none of it made sense. This… this basically said that the Horsemen set free the 'Serpent'. Lucifer. It could only be talking about Lucifer.

Their next few hours were spent researching, the hope, however grim it may have been, was re-lit from their discovery. Sam was scouring the internet for independent writings about the apocalypse, though by the sound of it, he wasn't getting far at all.

Dean had been texting back and forth with Bobby's history nut. He was pretty sure the lady was half-crazy, but she did have some useful information. Nothing game-changing, but some more background in lesser-known angel lore. Like, holy oil, for example, can be used to trap angels. That was useful. Also, there were apparently Archangels and Seraphim angels… and a lot of others Dean didn't memorize. Briefly, he wondered which one Castiel was.

It was later that night that Sam and Dean were sat together, reading. Bobby was asleep. Dean mentioned sleep to Sam, but the kid just glared at him and stuck his face back into his book. Dean sighed, Sam hadn't slept in over twenty-six hours, he would have to soon.

However, Dean wasn't given the chance to force his little brother to sleep.

Bright light had flashed throughout the room, accompanying by rogue blue lightning and a head-splitting high pitched noise. Dean grabbed Sam's shirt, pulling them both down.

As the light faded down, Dean risked a glance up. There was a dark-skinned man dressed in a sharp blue suit standing in front of them. His eyes shined an electric blue, like bottled lightning, that radiated power. His hair was cut short and he stood in perfect posture. In fact, he looked inhumanly perfect, not one thing out of place.

Slowly, Dean rose, aware of Sam doing the same next to him.

"And who the hell are you?" Dean asked. Honestly, he was getting tired of random beings appearing in Bobby's living room.

"Raphael," the man said, his voice deep and regal.

"Are you another angel?" Sam asked from his right. He knew what was going through his brother's mind. This angel looked a lot less friendly than Castiel, and they didn't have any angel blades on them.

"Ah," the man said. "I did hear you were the smart one, Sam."

Dean didn't like the way Raphael said his brother's name. He said it like a curse, a disease. In fact, he didn't like the feel of this angel at all. From Castiel, he felt power - from this angel, he felt danger.

Speaking of Castiel…

"Where's Castiel?" Dean asked, forcing himself to sound casual. "Isn't he our babysitter?"

"Castiel is otherwise occupied," Raphael took a step forward. "You both will be coming with me, now."

"Yeah, we'll pass, thanks," Dean said.

Raphael paid no mind to Dean as he continued advancing. Dean's mind was working quickly, but there didn't seem to be a way out of this. He had traveled via angel air before, and if this angel wanted to zap them somewhere, he could.

Dean was saved from thinking up a brilliant plan by another blinding burst of light. He could hear screaming, which sounded like Raphael's deep voice and another voice he didn't recognize. He grabbed Sam's arm, keeping a hold on Sam and yanking him down again. Sam grunted as they hit the floor, their hands coming up to shield their faces.

Books were flying off Bobby's shelves, papers flapping everywhere and blocking their already limited vision. Dean briefly registered that the noise had probably woken Bobby up, and he hoped the man would stay away, less he get caught in the crossfire. There was another sharp noise before it abruptly cut off again.

It was as the light was fading and sharpening again when Castiel's form came into view. The angel looked more disheveled than usual, his blue eyes wide and almost panicked. He rushed in front of the brothers, kneeling down to both of them.

"Sam, Dean," he was saying. He reached out like he was going to touch them, but retracted at the last moment. "Are you hurt?"

"No-," Sam answered, cut off by that ear-piercing noise again.

"We have to go," Castiel said, his voice loud and urgent. "We can't - there will be others. We have to go."

"And why the hell should we trust you?" Sam asked over the increasing noise.

"Would you rather take your chance with me or Raphael?"

Sam swallowed, turned his eyes to Dean, and nodded. Dean got the message 'the devil you know'. Dean couldn't say he liked it, but he agreed. Dean had already thrown his lot in with Castiel when he swore to him. There wasn't much going back now.

Castiel didn't wait for a verbal response as he laid two fingers on both their foreheads and white light encased them once more.

When the world stopped spinning, Dean stumbled, catching himself on a nearby wall. Sam was better at keeping his balance, only losing one step before regaining his posture. Dean's head was still a little shaken, making the room tilt a bit.

Looking around, he saw a strangely normal wooden cabin. They seemed to be in a living room, white furniture covered with light green blankets, plants in almost every corner. Large windows gave sight to a glass-still lake and a surrounding forest of thick green trees and underbrush. The walls were covered in odd symbols written with flourish, some glowing, some not.

He saw Castiel staring intently at one of the windows, probably looking for Raphael.

He was just about to ask when a bleeding man appeared right behind the largest couch. The man was short, well, shorter than them. He had short blondish brown hair and was wearing a torn white shirt that said 'deal with it' in all caps. Dean raised an eyebrow.

As soon as Castiel saw the man, he rushed to his aid. Castiel held him up by his arms, carefully leading him to a chair and lowering him onto it. The man groaned and leaned back before looking up at him and Sam. It was then that Dean saw the brown-golden colour of his eyes. Dean shivered. He would never get used to that.

"Uh," he heard Sam say. "Does anyone want to explain what the hell just happened?"

"Can I finish bleeding out first?" The man - or angel? - said before he put his own hand on his chest and closed his eyes. A golden light rose from his palm, spreading across him before fading. When it was gone, the man was healed, even his clothes had stitched back together. "That's better."

"This," Castiel said, relaxing minimally now that the man was healed. "Is the Archangel Gabriel."

Dean felt his eyes widen. He knew Archangels were at the top of the celestial hierarchy. His gaze flickers to Sam, seeing the gears turning in the younger man's mind before looking back to the angels.

"Right," Dean said. "And what was that back there?"

"That," Gabriel said, hopping up from the chair. "Was us saving your asses. You're welcome by the way."

From Dean's limited contact with angels, he expected Gabriel to be just as… serious, fierce? Gabriel didn't seem very intimidating.

Gabriel then snapped his fingers, a lollipop materializing in his hand. No, not very intimidating.

"It was Raphael," Castiel took over, as Gabriel seemed preoccupied with the candy. "He was sent to collect you, I gather. I suppose he was assigned to you both because I… I rebelled."

"You rebelled?" Sam asked, wariness fronting in his eyes.

Castiel looked away. "Yes. I'm not - Everything I have done, I have done because I believed in it. I… stopped believing in what my… in what Michael required of me."

"You mean requiring you to use us," Sam spoke, voice hard as steel. "To set Lucifer free?"

Castiel didn't flinch, but Dean knew that was only because he was an angel. He looked mildly surprised, confirming what he and Sam already suspected. He knew. He had always known, from the moment he took Dean.

"Yes," Castiel said, regret painted across his dimmed features. "I was following orders...but even I could see that Michael was not doing this for the good of humanity. For the little it's worth, I am sorry. And, Dean, I release you from your vow, I regret ever forcing you to make it. Free will should be the heart of Heaven, yet I took that from you. I should never have."

Dean let out a breath. Sam was off the hook, thank god. He turned to Sam and saw… a newfound respect shining in his brother's eyes. Dean couldn't say he didn't share that respect. Dean knew firsthand how hard it was to break ranks for something you believed in. For Castiel to go against his own family for them, Dean knew it was a big deal.

"What does this mean?" Sam asked. "Are they still going after the rings or did they need us to do it?"

Gabriel popped the candy out of his mouth. "Oh, they're definitely going after the rings. They probably just gave you the task to keep you busy. And for you two to start trusting Castiel. If I know my brothers, and I do, Michael won't stop at anything."

"Why now, why us?" Dean asked.

Gabriel's eyes adopted a curious sheen. "They don't know?" He asked to Castiel.

Castiel shook his head and Gabriel sighed. "Strap in boys, it's gonna be a long night."

"Archangels," Gabriel said. "Are a bit different than other angels. We have what's called 'true vessels'. Basically, it's a bloodline thing, yadda, yadda. There is one human on earth that can amplify our grace to its full potential without ever burning out. Dean, you're Michael's true vessel."

"What?" Dean asked, surprise blossoming over his face.

Gabriel looked up. "It means, you can perfectly contain Michael's grace. It's like this: your grand-dad could hold him good, your dad could hold him better, but you can hold him perfectly."

"But I…," Dean said, because that was heavy. That whole sentence sounded wrong because… well, he wasn't anything special. He was just Dean and honestly, that was all he wanted to be.

"And Sam," Gabriel said, eyes raking over his brother. "You are the vessel of Lucifer."

Now that sparked protest from Dean. "No, no way. That's not happening."

"Makes sense though, right?" Gabriel asked. "But Sam would have to agree to let Lucifer possess him so, I guess we got that going for us."

"I won't," Sam said quietly. "I would never agree to that."

"Won't you?" Gabriel asked. He didn't sound upset, maybe… curious. "If Lucifer was holding a blade to Dean's throat, you wouldn't say yes?"

Sam didn't answer. Dean knew why. Dean knew his brother would say yes. The kid wouldn't even hesitate and damn if that didn't scare Dean.

Gabriel sighed again. "Anyway, Michael's been waiting for you two to be old enough. Lucifer is going to rise, that much I'm sure of."

Dean knew the question that needed to be asked. He knew neither him or Sam wanted to ask. He also knew that he was the big brother and it was his job to step up when the going got tough. So, he swallowed his fear and asked the question nagging at his mind since he was four years old.

"So, is it true then?" Dean asked tersely. "What they say about Michael and Lucifer?"

Gabriel straightened a little, seeming to scan over them both.

"It depends on what they say," Gabriel said carefully. "Angels… don't have soulbonds like humans. But angels are also… some of us can be unfeeling. Dad wanted to fix that, make us more like humans, so he tried out soulbonds on Michael and Lucifer. It was… great for a while. They were… the brightness of their love lit the whole of Heaven. They were perfect… we all… their love was infectious and angels, well. We were happy for the first time."

"What happened?" Dean asked, bracing himself. That was all about flush with the old stories. It changed when… when Lucifer and Michael laid together. That poisoned their love and… it all went wrong.

"There was a force," Gabriel said, his eyes glazing over with faraway memories. "An almost unstoppable force of pure evil and Darkness. To defeat it, Gob imposed a… a curse onto Lucifer. It gave him unimaginable power but it corrupted his ability to love. Slowly, it infected his bond with Michael, turning the love into hate. God thought Lucifer was strong enough to control the curse but… he wasn't. He didn't stand a chance. God realized that and... he ordered Michael to send a weakened Lucifer to Hell. Then he left. I guess he was devastated… I don't know."

Dean's knees almost gave out. It wasn't - it was a curse that made Lucifer and Michael fail. It wasn't because they were inherently brothers and soulmates. It was a curse. Dean felt relieved, scared… a bit angry. He didn't fully understand the last one.

"Right," he heard Sam say. Turning to his brother, he saw a controlled mask, crafted so carefully that even Dean had to really look to see the emotion underneath. "Right."

After that, Sam left the room. He didn't leave the cabin, just stalked off to another room. Dean decided against going after him. Sam needed to think right then and Dean needed to let him. He knew Sam only left because his composure was at its breaking point. Sam was the kind of person who never let you see him weak. He only let the people he trusted the most see him in that state. And even those times were few and far between.

"You know," Gabriel had a thoughtful look, twirling his lollipop. "He does remind me a lot of Lucifer."

Dean's eyes flashed. "Hey."

"Woah," Gabriel held his hands up. "Hang on there, brother bear, I meant before, you know? The old Lucy, the good one. That was a compliment."

That was a bit thought-provoking. In Dean's world, the devil was so ingrained in his culture that… everyone knew he was pure evil. He was everyone's first real villain. To think that he was once good, that he shared characteristics with Sam, was dizzying. But again, Dean was a hunter, so accept, adapt, move on.

"Well," Gabriel said. "This place will need some stronger warding now that Raphael is actively searching for it. I'll go do that. Play nice."

Gabriel disappeared, leaving Dean alone with the other angel. Castiel looked tired, maybe a bit defeated, just standing near the edge of the couch. Dean felt a bit awkward, so he decided to break the silence.

"So," Dean cleared his throat. "Does it work both ways? The seeing-eyes thing. With angels and humans, I mean?"

Castiel looked up, then shook his head. "I only see gray in the eyes of humans. Though, over the years, I've heard human eyes are one of the most beautiful sights."

Dean nodded, because Sam's were, at least. "Sammy says my eyes are green. Well. He added some more detail but… basically, he said they're green."

"Green is often regarded as the colour of life," Castiel offered, then seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Could I ask a question of a personal nature?"

Dean shrugged because that could be a lot of things. "Go for it."

"I couldn't help but realize that… you and your soulmate do not act as soulmates tend to," Castiel said. "I have watched humanity for thousands of years, since the beginning and… I have never seen soulmates act so distant from each other."

"Me and Sam aren't normal… soulmates," Dean swallowed on the word. He would have usually told the asker of such a question to shut the hell up but… Dean found himself wanting to answer. "I thought… I guess I thought I was gonna hurt him or somethin', you know? Like I was… Sam's got this thing about going along with something I want, even if he don't want it."

"You feared you would take advantage of him?" Castiel summed up and Dean winced at the words because they were pretty damn accurate.

"He's my little brother," Dean gave as an explanation. "It's my job to look after him, not… not what I want. Not even what he wants most of the time. I just need to do want he needs."

"And if he needs you?"

"He's got me."

"In every capacity?" Castiel asked, his eyebrows scrunching together. "The only reason you two were born as what you are is because you had to be the perfect vessels. You and Sam aren't as different as you may think. It must be hurting you to deny the bond… and eventually, it will kill you. Both of you. Bonds feed from two souls. If the bond only has one, it will take too much and your soul will burn itself out."

Dean's eyes darted to the side. He knew that, everyone knew that. He hoped it would be different for them. That their bond was somehow weaker than other because they were brothers. He hoped they could deny it and be fine. Having it spelled out like that was unsettling.

"I know."

"Perhaps you should speak to him, your brother," Castiel suggested. "He seemed distressed."

Dean nodded and tapped a hand against his leg in thought. Castiel was actually turning out to be much less of a dick than he thought.

"I think I will," Dean said, turning to the general direction Sam went. "Thanks, Cas."

Castiel looked a bit surprised at either the nickname or thanks, but he offered a small smile. It was a very small smile, but it seemed truly genuine, as if he was greatly pleased he managed to help.

Sam was sitting on the unmade bed, thoughts of the earlier conversation running through his head. He felt drained. Their whole life, their whole fucking life was built around a lie. Everything was always Michael and fucking Lucifer. 'Don't to that because Michael did that!' 'Don't do this because Lucifer did this!'

Sam actually had begun to think that maybe - just maybe - that had meant something. Michael and Lucifer were real, so maybe his and Dean's suffering meant something. Realizing that it meant nothing made ice prickle at his shoulders. It meant nothing.

Years of pain meant nothing.

Years of shame and hiding and feeling like a failure for being born meant nothing.

Their lives had meant nothing.

Everyone around them was dying. Their mom, their dad, Jessica. Who was next? Bobby? He didn't want to think about that. But then again, it was fine, right? Because apparently he was damned from birth to be Lucifer's fucking war-suit. Soulmates were supposed to bring unimaginable happiness but Sam just felt cold.

It meant nothing. The sentence wouldn't stop repeating in his mind, taunting him. Leading him down a road of dark thoughts.

Sam jumped when he felt a weight on his shoulder, he didn't have to look up to recognize Dean's hand. He must have been deep in his mind to not have heard his brother approach.

"Hey," Dean said, beckoning Sam to look at him. "What're you thinkin' about?"

"It means nothing," Sam's voice broke on the last word, stubborn tears burning his eyes. He brought up a hand to stop the tears, but Dean intercepted his wrist and pulled him down into a hug instead.

Sam took to Dean's embrace like a starving man, latching onto his brother. Sam felt small in Dean's unyielding arms. No matter how much he outgrew Dean physically, his brother would always be a thousand feet tall to Sam. Sam's fingers dug into the back of Dean's shirt, crushing the fabric in a white-knuckled grip. Dean returned the embrace just as fiercely. In all honesty, it hurt Sam to be held so tight but he needed it and Dean understood that because he always did.

"It doesn't mean nothing," Dean's voice was final, leaving no room for argument or suggestion. "I'm here, you're here. As long as that's true, it will never mean nothing. You are my soulmate, Sam Winchester, and by god do I love you... but I have no idea how to."

Sam released a shuddering breath. Had Dean ever admitted that out loud?

"Neither do I," Sam said, his voice shaky and words muffled by Dean's shoulder.

"Yeah, well," Dean said, his voice quieter now. "I know it isn't exactly the best time, with the end being nigh and all but… if you're willing to learn, so am I."

Sam had to pull back, to look Dean in the eyes. To know if he was serious. Once Sam stared at those deep green irises, the coldness retreated, no match for the love Dean conveyed.

It didn't mean nothing, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Dean countered in his mind. And Sam knew then which voice to trust. It was the voice he had always trusted.

Sam found no mockery in the forest of Dean's eyes. Just determination and love.

Sam already knew, but the question still formed on his tongue.

"You really mean it?"

Dean answer was to stop. Lean in before stopping again, taking a breath, and softly pressing his lips against Sam's.

Warmth flooded Sam's body so quickly he had to physically grasp onto Dean to stop from falling over. The heat in his veins was almost painful as Dean deepened the kiss just slightly.

Just like with the two other kisses he had shared with his soulmate, Sam was in Heaven. He didn't believe it could get any better than this. This kiss felt somehow different than the others. The other two had been quick, desperate, out of pure need. This one felt… romantic, passionate. Like a kiss between lovers.

Before long, Dean had reluctantly pulled back.

"I can't-," Dean whispered, his words only for Sam's ears. "I might be a slow learner… I'll haveta unlearn a lot but… I'll try, Sammy. For you and me, I'll try."

And really, what more could he ask of his broth - his soulmate. No, his brother and his soulmate.

Sam smiled at the thought.