I never stopped watching. Even though Raphael mad Dean forget our last encounter as he vowed. I was keeping a promise to a man who forgot I'd made it. A promise to watch over him. To be his angel.

I watched as Dean started drinking more, having frequent sexual intercourse, and talking as though he didn't care. As though life was one big joke which I knew was not how he felt, even if he didn't. I watched as he thought his dad was increasingly disappointed and I watched the day Sam left for college. Both John and Dean understood it wasn't just for school but out of their lives. John was angry and didn't comprehend and eventually brushed it away as Sam's problem and issue. He didn't bother making an attempt to comprehend, either. Dean knew, however. He knew exactly why Sam was leaving but it only made Dean more bitter. Why would he leave me here alone with our father after everything I've done for him, after he knows exactly what my life will be like now that he's gone? How can he just leave? He's my only friend. The only person who knows what I'm going through. They only person I can talk to. Doesn't he care?

Those thoughts festered and grew until he decided to end all feeling. He didn't need anybody. He dropped emotion and with it pain so the abandonment by his own family, which he held so highly, wouldn't cause him eternal agony. Feeling was no longer doing him any favors, but now he was empty. He led life like a chore. Only in the act of saving lives was he happy.

Neither of the Winchesters ever tried to contact each other and Dean continued hunting but often alone. His father and him split to do different jobs on a regular basis. Dean was given the Impala and without much money he would often sleep there. The Impala grew to be his home. The only place he could do his own thing. Blast music, sing along, eat candy, read books, and watch movies and porn. When he was with his father it was as though he was in the army. He loved and respected his father but he was never himself around him. As far as he was concerned, the Impala was all he had left. It was the only thing that reminded him of his family being together. The company that he had enjoyed. The good old days. If you could call the good old days as hunting trips for supernatural creatures with your father and losing a mother at a young age. I'm not sure you could.

And then John disappeared. Dean didn't know why or what happened, but I did. He was being abandoned once again. How could such a loving person ever be so alone? My heart ached to join him in his loneliness, because I was having my own trouble with it, but I wasn't willing to risk the repercussions of that decision. I had no idea what they would do or if they would take it out on Dean himself which wasn't worth it.

One night after a night of hustling pool, he was lying on a couch in his motel room, drinking beer, and watching old Leave it to Beaver reruns. He went through and entire six pack in an hour and his dad's journal was lying open on the table, covered in a light layer of dust. Dean had spent days searching for clues to find his father but there was nothing. He'd given up. He was going to spend the rest of his pathetic life on that very couch. Then a commercial popped up on the screen. It was a car commercial for the perfect family and perfect road trip car. A family of four was in Arizona, heading to the Grand Canyon, and were cracking jokes left and right, sharing stories, bonding. The two kids were brothers and before I understood what was happening, Dean was crying. It probably helped he was drunk and alone but his shoulders were heaving as he silently sobbed. He aged twenty years in that moment and if you asked me how old Dean was based on life experience, I would have said somewhere in the hundreds. By the time he was five he was already in his twenties.

When his hysterics settled, he was suddenly on a mission. He packed up, left the motel, and drove hundreds of miles to Stanford University. The only thing running through his mind was, "My brother will hear me out, right? I'm his brother. Shit, what if he doesn't? What if he doesn't come? What will I do? What if? What if? What if?"

Sam went, as foretold, along with Dean and so it began. Their loss of what free will they'd had left. No part of their life was their own anymore because of one t.v. commercial and the loss of a father. John had no clue what he had begun in his deranged state. One that sadly had been going on for years. My least favorite thing in the world was watching people head exactly down their destructive path that they thought was one of choice and freedom.

I watched as the brothers reformed their bond. Dean went out of his way to show Sam exactly who he was. Dean was uncomfortable and nervous that they wouldn't fall into the same pattern they'd established before Sam left, but they did. Sam had grown but he was essentially the same person. He couldn't help himself, especially when he realized just how screwed up Dean had become. Dean was different and that disturbed Sam but he rarely mentioned it.

They took up cases like old times while searching for their Dad at the same time. I wanted to help, point out he was right under their nose the entire time, but that would have altered destiny. At this point, I realized that maybe I should just stop looking out for Dean. He wouldn't know any different and all it was doing was slowly tearing limbs from my body one at a time, bone by bone. It was becoming more and more impossible to just sit and watch it all happen, but that was exactly what I did.

I saw Sam discover his strange powers and watched Dean struggle with the knowledge that maybe he didn't know what Sammy was going to become. That maybe his father was going to ultimately be right. He wasn't scared because of what his Dad asked him to do. He'd always been good at doing what was necessary. He was scared that he wouldn't be able to do just that. That because he couldn't ever kill his own brother many other lives would be lost. I watched as Sam died and Dean made the decision to sell his own soul. A decision that I was severely regretting for him because he sure as hell wasn't. He still thought right about now that he would be able to wrangle himself out of the deal. He had a sliver of hope and it wasn't helped by the fact that Sam had more than that. They were feeding off each other unhealthily and again there was nothing I could do. They started fighting constantly because they realized they wanted different things. Sam needed Dean like he needed oxygen and Dean wanted to die. I'd known from the moment he was beat as a child it was going down this path. He didn't deserve to be alive. His excuse of course was that Dad had died for him and he should be dead anyways but that was only for Sam's benefit because that at least Sam could understand. It was really just that he didn't see life as something he should be a part of and hadn't for a long time. His only dilemma now was that he didn't want to end up in hell of all places which ultimately led to the decision to live for the time being. Dean was scared of hell and rightly so. And then all of a sudden without actually being mentally prepared Dean was dead. A hell hound tore him to shreds and his pure blood was being spattered all over the ground until his eyes were lifeless. Those stunning green eyes that I'd grown to love were empty and they weren't nearly as beautiful. It hadn't even been about the color. Dean was now in hell.

I snuck out of my garden minutes later knowing that Raphael would've called a meeting. Sure enough I found angels clapping, some even smiling as Raphael declared that everything was going according to plan. Sam and Dean Winchester were ripe to be vessels, all that needed to happen was someone needed to fetch Dean out of hell. The journey was often tiring and could turn complicated at any moment but it wasn't usually a problem. Most angels were wary of the trip anyways, however, so there weren't many volunteers. None actually. Raphael was just about to appoint some poor sap who was going to put my Dean together wrong when I spoke up.

"Raphael, please," I whispered. "You know I can do it."

"No Castiel. I will not have you making contact with that man or his soul."

"I'm the only one that can do it right. None of you know who he was or what he was like. None of you can put him back together right and that might just ruin your chances at getting him to say yes."

Raphael stared me down for minutes before he wrung his hands together and nodded abruptly and shortly. "Fine, Castiel, but you will not stay and wait for him to rise. You will not let him remember a moment of him being saved and you will not reveal yourself or your name to him. You will go in, do the job, and come back out. You will not linger or take longer than strictly necessary. Understood? Or I might just have to permanently confine you to your little garden. And by that I mean forever."

I nodded and felt my hand shaking slightly. I couldn't tell if it was in fear or excitement. I would get to touch Dean again, feel him, be with him, understand him, but what if I healed him wrong? What if I took too long? I had a feeling Raphael had one definition and I had another. Before anybody could object or Raphael could change his mind, although honestly if he did he could stop me, I was out of there and down to the gates of hell where Lucifer was sitting in a plush throne beside the gate.

"Ah, brother, hello. I take it your here to save some poor soul. Nobody ever comes down for any other reason, which makes me sad. You know, I love seeing you all. You should come visit me more often."

"Can I just go through?" I said irritatedly. "Please?"

"Is it that little Dean Winchester you've developed such a bond with? Too bad he has no idea you love him."

"Please Lucifer."

"Ugh, fine, don't play with me. I was just having some fun. I'm opening your bloody gates, relax. Remember, no flying. I don't appreciate that."

"Yes, I remember."

I walked through the dank, black, moldy gates that were actually magnificent in size and went down a one way stone path to hell. I could already feel the heat soaring through the cavern and it was a mile long walk before I actually got there. Before I actually got to the racks and cages. I'd only seen the racks once in my life but I knew that's where Dean would be and I wasn't ready for that. They were truly disturbing and horrible. No human, no matter what they did, deserved that. Too bad punishment was Lucifer's decision. It wasn't long before I saw the fire and the barbed chains running all across the huge chasm. And so I began my search for Dean's guts.