A/N: I don't have much to say except thank you again for all of your reviews, favorites, and alerts. Here's the next chapter. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!

"Anything special?" Sam asked, opening the door of the motel room.

"Pie!" Dean called back.

Sam rolled his eyes, walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Dean stepped out of the bathroom and stared at the door for a few seconds, making sure that Sam wasn't coming back because he forgot something. It's not that Dean was embarrassed, but more that he didn't want Sam to get any more ideas than he already had.

"Castiel?" Dean asked.

A second later, Dean heard a rustle of wings. "Hello, Dean."

Dean spun around and came face to face with Castiel. Dean tried, but was unable to keep the smile from spreading on his face.

"Where is Sam?" Castiel asked, glancing around the room and noticing that Sam was not there.

"Out getting food," Dean responded simply, still staring at Castiel. Even after all of these months, Dean couldn't believe that this was the person who pulled him out of hell. And more than that, Castiel was still sticking around. Although Dean wasn't sure if he was staying because Dean kept calling him or because he wanted to stay. It didn't really matter though. What was important was that Castiel was still there.

"You can sit down," Dean said, sitting down on his own bed. Castiel sat down on Sam's bed, staring at Dean.

"Are you hunting?" Castiel asked.

Dean chuckled.

Meanwhile, Castiel looked confused. "I do not understand what's funny?"

"Nothing," Dean said. "It's just that the only times that I haven't been hunting are before my mom died and then when I was in hell. It never stops."

"You could stop hunting. It would be safer."

Dean shrugged. "Someone's gotta do it. And besides it's something I'm good at."

"What are you hunting?" Castiel asked.

"Just a spirit. Nothing major," Dean said nonchalantly.

"You need to be careful," Castiel said.

"I'm always careful," Dean insisted. "Sometimes ghosts are more powerful than me. I can't really do anything about it."

Castiel didn't respond to Dean's statement, although Dean knew that Castiel still thought that he should be more careful.

"Can I ask you something?" Dean asked after a moment. There was something that had been bugging him for awhile now.

"Of course."

"What do you do when you're not here?"

"I serve God."

"You've said that before, but what does that even mean?" Dean asked.

"I carry out God's orders. I was created to do what God commanded."

"So what, that's all you do is follow orders?"

"Yes. I was told to watch over a dying girl's family and I did. I was told to rescue you from Hell, and I did," Castiel explained.

Dean remained silent, thinking about what Castiel had just told him. Dean's phone started ringing, pulling him from his thoughts. Castiel reached over, grabbed the phone on the nightstand, and handed it over to Dean.

As Castiel handed the phone over, Dean noticed something that he hadn't seen before. Squinting, Dean looked at Castiel's wrist and realization hit him.

Dean stared at Castiel's wrist. "What is that?" Dean asked, the ringing phone completely forgotten.

"What is what?" Castiel questioned. The phone stopped ringing as the voicemail picked up.

Dean reached over, grabbed Castiel's wrist and held it up. "That?"

"It is the wrist of my vessel."

"Your vessel? You're just possessing some poor bastard?"

"Dean, we have already discussed this," Castiel reasoned.

"Yeah, well I was a little preoccupied since an angel was telling me that they yanked me out of hell," Dean said angrily.

Castiel did not know how to respond and remained quiet. Dean stood up and started pacing.

"Seriously? You are possessing some dude?"

"Yes, like I have already told you, he was a devout man and prayed for this."

Dean stopped pacing and faced Castiel. "And that makes it ok to take him from his family?"

"Dean, it is—"

"I don't care what you have to say. You can leave," Dean said, pointing toward the motel room door.

Castiel didn't make any indication that he was going to move.

"Now!" Dean yelled with more force.

Castiel stared at Dean for another second before disappearing.

Once Castiel was gone, Dean shoulders sunk as he let out a long breath. He sat down on one of the motel beds and put his head in his hands, replaying the scene in his head.

Dean didn't want Castiel to leave, in fact, Dean felt completely alone no that Castiel was gone. But, that didn't change things. Castiel was keeping someone away from their soulmate, and Dean just couldn't have that. So what if he couldn't be happy, at least someone else should.

"Where's Castiel?" Sam said, picking himself off the ground after a run in with an evil spirit later that night.

"Not coming," Dean grunted, looking for something to use to pull himself up. Finding nothing, Dean placed both of his hands on the ground and used his own strength to pull himself up.

"What do you mean he's not coming? He always comes," Sam said confused.

"Not anymore," Dean responded briefly, hoping that Sam would just drop it. He missed Castiel and really wished he was there, but Dean made his decision and so far it looked like Castiel was going to honor that decision.

Dean walked over to the Impala that was parked a few hundred feet away, near the cemetery's entrance.

"Why don't you just call him?" Sam asked following his brother to the car.

"Because he won't come."

"What?" Now Sam was even more confused. "What the hell happened?"

"Don't worry about it, Sam."

"But—"

"Drop it," Dean snaped.

Sam shut his mouth. He threw the shovel in the trunk and got into the passenger side. Dean turned on the car, stepped on the gas, and sped away from the cemetery.

Dean and Sam walked into the motel room after a long, silent, and awkward drive back. Dean pulled off his jacket and threw it over one of the chairs before walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. He pulled his shirt off and started to examine the damage. It had been awhile since he had had to do it himself. For the last few months, Castiel had been healing him before he even had a chance to see how bad things were. Gently prodding his skin where a bruise was starting to form, Dean started to wish Castiel were there. Once he realized what he was thinking, he forced himself to remember that this was his choice. He had told Castiel to leave, and he had to stick with that, no matter what happened.

Dean looked at himself in the mirror one more time before sighing and turning on the shower. He let the hot water roll down his body, hoping it would get rid of the pain. After ten minutes in the shower, his muscles felt a little more relaxed, but overall, he didn't feel much better. Dean turned off the shower, dried off, and got dressed.

Dean walked out of the bathroom and threw his clothes next to his duffle, figuring he could pack after Sam was done in the shower. Right now, he just wanted to rest. He sat down on his bed and leaned back against the headboard. Sam got up to go into the bathroom as Dean started flipping through the limited channels the motel offered.

Not even ten minutes later, Dean started to feel a twinge in his wrist. He grabbed it with the other hand and rubbed it, opening that feeling would go away. Unfortunately it didn't. But there wasn't really any pain so Dean just tried to push it out of his mind.

The feeling wouldn't go away and Dean started rubbing at his wrist again. Sam walked out of the bathroom and started shoving his clothes into his own duffel bag.

"When do you want to head out?" Sam asked.

Dean turned off the TV and sat up straighter, still rubbing at his wrist. "Just give me a minute."

Sam stared at his brother. "Something happen to your wrist?"

"Not sure. Just started feeling funny," Dean responded.

"Huh."

Ten minutes later, Dean and Sam checked out of their motel and began their drive to their next hunt.