Dean couldn't take it anymore. His legs just couldn't support his weight any longer. He fell to the ground, unable to catch himself because of the ropes wrapping around his torso. Ever since his attempt at escape, the Angels decided it would be better if the full length of his arms were restrained as well as his hands. He barely registered the pain as his head slammed into the ground. Borderline unconscious, he felt himself continue to be dragged behind a horse before he heard a distant shout and the movement stopped. Dean was faintly aware of people talking around him before he willingly gave himself to sleep.

Someone had called for a halt. Castiel looked around for the reason though it wasn't hard to guess. Looking back he noticed Dean on the ground. He slid off his horse and joined the rest of the group circling Dean.

"This Rebel is more trouble than it's worth."

"I say we drag him to Heofon."

Zachariah seemed to consider that option for a moment. A disappointed look crossed his face. "No, that has the potential of killing him."

Dean slowly opened his eyes, his head pounding. Looking around he found that he was in a tent, yet again bound to a post. Apparently it was necessary to bind his legs too. He weakly tested the ropes, already knowing they wouldn't give much. God, why did his head hurt? Trying to get past the cloud of pain to remember what happened, he finally recalled falling; and then breaking that fall with his head. He groaned and rested his head back against the post he was tied to.

"Hello Dean"

Dean jumped in his seat when he was greeted from behind. Closing his eyes, Dean forced himself to calm down. Castiel walked to the front of the tent so Dean could see him.

"Do you get your freak on watching people sleep or something?" he replied angrily, a bit bitter of his situation. He gave a slight wince as the motion of him talking pulled on some scrapes on the right side of his face. Then he remembered being dragged a ways before they stopped.

"I volunteered to take watch over you for the time being."

"Well aren't you just a Good Samaritan?" he said dryly

Castiel sighed and pulled out a knife. Dean eyed the knife, tensing as Castiel disappeared behind him again. The ropes around his torso tightened before they fell loose at his sides. He felt Castiel grab his forearm then cut the ropes around his wrist as well. An inaudible gasp escaped Dean; it seemed like ages ago that his upper body was free of any restraints.

Castiel walked back around with a plate of food. "You should eat."

Dean looked down to the plate, then continued to stretch his arms, his muscles sore from being in the same position for that long. "I'm not hungry."

This coming from the man he had seen demolish plate after plate of food a week prior. Castiel looked sadly down at the Rebel. "Dean, please eat something."

"Why should I?" He questioned defiantly. He didn't want to eat; he wanted to get the hell out of this tent. He wanted to jump on his horse and just ride, not stopping until he reached Lawrence.

Castiel was quiet for a moment. "Because you fainted from exhaustion."

"And?"

Castiel gave him an angry confused look, as if to ask 'does there really need to be any other reason'. "And they had a debate on whether dragging you into Heofon would kill you if this happened again."

Dean paused at that. A familiar idea returned to him: escape. He looked down to the ropes around his legs then back up at Castiel. The Angel was wearing a holster belt around his waist, complete with a gun at his side.

"I don't see why you care."

"I- I don't," he replied, breaking eye contact for a second. A moment of silenced passed where neither spoke. Castiel broke the silence first. "Why do you make this so difficult?"

"…What?"

"Just tell the Angels what they want to know. Save yourself. Why put yourself through this? If you had any idea what's in store for you at Heofon-"

"I know exactly what's in store for me at Heofon," Dean growled. "Do you think I'm underestimating my situation? I know exactly what dicks like you do when you capture people like me. I know what my last name means to you, but I'm telling you right now you'll get nothing from me."

"That is not logical," the Angel insisted, frustrated. "If you know what you will go through, why would you subject yourself to that?"

"Why didn't you tell me anything when I tried getting information out of you?"

"I serve a purpose greater than my own."

"And you think I don't?"

"I- that is different" he stammered

"You damn Angels are all the same," he scoffed. "Believe what you want, you can all go screw yourselves."

Castiel saw nothing but defiance in the Rebel's eyes. He wanted Dean to live. It had taken him all this time to realize it, but it was undeniable. He liked the Rebel, he was a good man. He was unlike anyone he had ever met.

"Dean it's not worth your life. You will die."

"Melior morior bellator, quam ago profugus."

That caught Castiel's attention. "The old language," he breathed. The language was lost long ago; only a select number of people knew it now. He had been surprised when he heard Winchester use it as a password to get into the Rebel base. He was about to ask what the phrase meant when another Angel entered the tent. He looked down upon Dean with disdain before looking back to Castiel.

"Castiel, Zachariah would like to see you in his tent."

Giving a final glance at Dean, he thanked his brother and went to find his leader.

"Sam, I'm sorry, It can't be done."

"Ellen, this isn't anyone we're talking about, this is Dean!"

"I know. But we can't just storm into the frontier. We have no idea the direction they took, all we know is the destination. We may be so bold as to go into the frontier every now and then, but never to the heart of the damn thing. It would be suicide to send Rebels into Heofon."

"Fine, then I'll go myself," he replied stubbornly. He turned to leave when Ellen grabbed his forearm tightly. The sympathy in her eyes was still there, but they were overpowered by a newfound anger.

"Don't be a damn fool, boy. You don't think they're already thrilled to get their hands on one Winchester? What happens if you get caught? Dean risked his life so you weren't captured by Angels, and now you want to go hand yourself over to them?"

"I didn't ask him to save me!" he yelled, frustrated. God, why does everyone keep using that against him? "Why am I the only person who wants to do something? Don't you care about Dean?"

Ellen gave him an icy glare. "Don't ever ask me that question again. You hear me?"

Sam downcast his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Dean may know plenty of our secrets, but he doesn't know them all. All we can do now is pray that he can ride this out." Ellen seemed to study him for a moment. "I'm guessing John already told you all of this. You came to me when he said no."

"There has to be a way," he said weakly, already knowing the battle was lost.

"I'm sorry, kid. There isn't."

From his horse, Castiel watched as the great walls of Heofon drew closer with each step. Next to him, Zachariah gave a content sigh.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, referring to the massive wall in front of them. The only thing that could be seen above the wall was the top of a few buildings and the sky, which was now turning grey.

Casitel gave a nod. "Just in time too. It appears as if it will rain soon."

"Now, you remember what we talked about, yes? When we pass the walls into the city, they will want to know about your capture. Any details about Rebel activity that you picked up."

"Of course, sir."

Dean watched with a sinking feeling as the walls of Heofon grew larger and larger. He internally began to panic. Frantically he scanned his surroundings once and over again, desperately searching for anything that would hinder their travel. It didn't even have to be a form of escape, just something to slow them down, to give him more time. When he found none, he improvised. He dug his heels into the ground using all his strength to keep from moving forward.

The horse he was being dragged behind let out a discontent neigh at the disruption. The rider of the horse jerked the rope he was connected to and he had no choice but stumble forward and continue. Get it together, Dean. He closed his eyes and took a breath. The way he saw it, he had two choices. He could go in trying to runaway like a pansy ass, or he could walk in on his own, show these bastards he wasn't afraid of them. There wasn't a possibility of escape at this point, he had to suck it up. Take it like a man. He was going to prison. Fine. He would dig his way out if he had to. He'd like to see them keep him there.

They reached the gates not soon after. Dean watched with dread as Zachariah began talking with the Angels keeping guard at the gate, who then signaled to more Angels up in the tower. The large gates began to open revealing the grand city inside. It was… huge. Bigger than Dean had thought it'd be. The buildings were massive, larger than any Dean had seen before. Angels and what Dean guessed were Prophets littered the streets, everywhere. It made his skin itch to see so many Angels in one area.

Dean jumped out of his stupor when he noticed they began to move into the city. He took a reluctant step forward and entered into the one place he never wanted to set foot in in his life. The Angel riding on the horse next to Dean smirked down at him.

"Welcome to Hell, boy."

As usual, thanks for reading! Just wanted to let you guys know, the prologue for my new story is now up! It's called Life of a Shinobi if you want to check it out =)