A/N: As always thank you so much. I really appreciate that so many of you take some time to leave a review. Anyway, I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter I've written for anything, so enjoy and let me know what you think!

The pain in Dean's wrist didn't go away the rest of the day. Dean just drove and didn't say anything to Sam. It wasn't a bad pain, and frankly, he had had much worse pain in his life. However, as the time went on, the pain gradually got worse as the day went on. But still, Dean could handle it. There was no need for Sam to know about it.

Luckily this new hunt wasn't too far from their previous hunt and the boys were able to get a start on the hunt almost immediately. This head start proved to be helpful,as it was nearing a full moon and that was the only time they were actually going to be able to take care of a werewolf.

Sam and Dean pulled into town and immediately went to go talk to their friend that had told them about the problem. It looked simple enough. After all, the brothers had dealt with plenty of werewolves before and this hunt should be no different.

The next day, two days after Dean had sent Castiel away, he decided he had to do something about his wrist. He had been rubbing it constantly since he noticed the pain, hoping that it would help, but there was no such luck. It just got stronger with every day that passed, to the point where it was becoming unbareable.

Dean walked out of the motel room and down the hall to the ice machine. It wasn't much, but it couldn't hurt. After filling a small bag with ice, Dean walked back to the room, grabbed a towel and sat down on the bed. He wrapped the bag in the towel and held it to his wrist.

As he held the bag of ice, Dean tried to think of what he could have possibly done to make his wrist hurt that badly. The only thing he could think of was the hunt he and Sam had just finished. He must have done something then, even if he didn't explicitly remember it.

A few minutes later, Sam came into the motel room carrying dinner. He set it down on the table and looked at his brother. "What happened?" Sam asked. He was only gone for a half hour, and yet somehow his brother had managed to injure himself.

"Must have banged up my wrist really bad on that last hunt."

"It's still bothering you?" Sam asked.

"It keeps getting worse," Dean admitted, reluctantly.

Sam was surprised. Dean never admitted that he was in pain. Ever.

"Something I can do?" Sam asked.

"I don't think so."

Sam stared at his brother for another moment before asking, "Do you want to see a doctor? I mean if it's hurting that bad—"

"No doctors," Dean responded simply. Dean tried to avoid hospitals at all costs. First, there were the normal reasons that came with being a hunter. The hospitals asked questions and often took a lot of time. But for Dean, there was another reason. If doctors found that Dean didn't have a name, they decided they needed to run more tests to figure out what was wrong with him. Dean knew there was nothing wrong with him. He just didn't have a name. There was absolutely no reason for additional tests that wouldn't even give him any information. And because it was his wrist, Dean knew there was absolutely no way that Dean could have hidden the fact that he didn't have a name.

"If it gets worse—" Sam started.

"We'll deal with that later," Dean said. "Do we know where this things gonna be?"

Sam sighed. Leave it to Dean to change the subject from himself. "I think so. If we head to the forest east of town, it should be there in two days."

"You're sure about this?" Dean said, lifting the ice and examining his wrist.

"I'm sure," Sam promised.

Dean woke up the next morning and still felt the sharp pain in his wrist. However, Dean didn't have any time to focus on that pain. He quickly jumped out of bed, ran into the bathroom, and vomited violently into the toilet.

He stayed hunched over the toilet, dry heaving for a few minutes after, just to be sure he was completely done. Dean wasn't sure what had happened, but he was sure that he did not want to live through that experience again.

Sam and Dean returned back to the motel room after grabbing some lunch at a local diner. Sam wanted to do some more research and Dean wasn't about to argue. He was still feeling like utter crap and not having to do any work sounded like a fantastic idea.

The brothers weren't even in the hotel room for ten minutes before Dean was back in the bathroom vomiting again.

"What is going on?" Sam asked when Dean emerged from the bathroom.

"Huh?

"You. You were fine a few days ago."

"I'm fine, Sam," Dean said trying to convince his brother, and himself. Dean let out a loud, strangled cough.

"Bullshit," Sam replied. "Now, seriously, what's going on with you?"

"I don't know. Everything just kinda went to hell a few days ago."

"Do you think you got something at the last motel?"

"Probably. Don't know what else it could be."

"Why don't you get Castiel?" Sam suggested.

"No," Dean responded instantly.

"Why? He healed you all those other times, maybe he could help this time," Sam reasoned.

"Because he's coming."

"Why not?" Sam persisted.

"Just leave it, Sam."

"Not until you tell me why Castiel won't come. He always did, even before you called sometimes. What's so different now?"

"I asked him to leave," Dean mumbled.

"What?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"I asked him to leave," Dean repeated, a little louder this time, although it wasn't louder by much.

"Yeah, I heard that the first time. Why'd you tell him to leave?"

"It doesn't matter."

"What did you do?" Sam persisted.

"I didn't do anything," Dean said defensively.

"Dude, just tell me what happened."

"He's possessing some guy," Dean reluctantly admitted.

"Seriously? That's what all of this is about."

"He is possessing some guy. Keeping him from his family. What was I supposed to say?" Dean said, standing up and facing Sam.

"It's just-don't you think you're being kinda hard on him?" Sam asked.

"No," Dean responded instantly.

"Dean—"

"What? If you're just going to tell me to forgive him again, forget it."

"What is such a big deal if he has to use a human vessel? Especially after everything he has done for you."

Dean let out a breath. Sure, Sam had a point, but it didn't mean Dean wanted to agree with it. "He's taking that poor man away from his family, away from his soulmate."

"So that's what all of this about?" Sam asked.

"Of course that's what all of this is about. That man has a soulmate, a family. And Castiel is taking all of that away from him. No one should have to do that," Dean explained.

"So what? You're going to just let him go and never talk him again?"

"If it means that the guy Castiel is possessing gets to go back to his family, yes."

"Even after everything he's done for you?"

"Just drop it, Sam. He's gone and he's not coming back," Dean said determinedly.

Dean woke up the next morning, still feeling nauseous, although it wasn't as bad as it was the day before. He got up, with the intention to start getting ready for the day. But as soon as he stood up, the entire world started to spin and Dean immediately reached out a hand to steady himself on the bed.

When the room stopped spinning, Dean carefully made his way to the bathroom and took a shower.

The dizziness would not leave Dean alone. Throughout the entire day, Dean was forced to reach out and grab something, or someone, to steady himself.

He made a mental note that at some point he should probably figure out what was going on. As he thought about it, Dean decided that the dizziness was probably just from all of the vomiting the day before, and that was probably from something he picked up at one of the nasty motels he and his brother stayed in. It was nothing he couldn't deal with, even if the pain in his wrist refused to go away.

Dean was asleep on one of the beds. Even while Dean slept, Sam could tell that his brother was in pain.

Sam stepped out of the motel room, quietly closing the door behind him. His brother was stubborn. There was absolutely no denying that. But Sam knew that he had to do something.

Sam looked around the empty motel parking lot. He took a deep breath, still not sure if this was going to work at all. But it was worth a shot. "Castiel?" Sam called hesitantly. Sam stood still for a minute, waiting.

"Castiel?" Sam tried again, this time speaking a little louder.

Again, there was no response.

"Come on, Castiel. Look, I know Dean said he didn't want to see you again, but he's really hurting. Please, can you just come and help him? Please?" Sam begged. He wasn't sure having Castiel come would help his brother, but that was the only thing that had changed since Dean started getting sick.

Sam still had his suspicions about Dean and Castiel. And if he was right, then the only thing that was going to make Dean better was having Castiel there. As crazy as it was, Sam knew that soulmates couldn't spend that much time apart without contact. Sam remembered when Jessica was still around. They couldn't go without contact for more than twenty-four hours without noticing a difference, even if that contact was just talking on the phone.

It had been almost four days, and Sam couldn't even imagine how bad Dean was really hurting. The longest Sam had been away from Jess after they met and before she died was two days and that was because a storm knocked out power while Jess was visiting her family over a break. Those two days were torturous and Sam didn't even want to think about going for longer than that. And besides, Sam knew his brother, whatever pain he was in was significantly worse than what Dean was admitting to, and Dean was already admitting to being in a lot of pain.

Sam glanced around the parking lot one final time, before accepting the fact that Castiel was not going to come. Sam let out a sigh in frustration. "Why can't you just come and help Dean?!" Sam said angrily, before returning back to the motel room

"Dean?" Sam said, gently shaking his brother in an attempt to wake him up. Dean had been absolutely exhausted when they came back from lunch and decided he was just going to lie down so he could have more energy for the hunt. Tonight was the full moon and the only chance they'd have to take care of the werewolf.

"What?" Dean answered weakly, barely cracking his eyes open.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fantastic," Dean responded in his normal sarcastic tone.

"Seriously? You nearly passed out on me yesterday. I don't want you passing out on a hunt."

"I'll be fine, Sam," Dean said, swinging his legs over the bed and standing up. The dizziness was still there, but Dean knew he was just going to have to push through it. The werewolf had to be taken care of tonight.

Dean walked over to the chair and put on the jacket that was draped over it. "You ready?" Dean asked, as he fished the keys out of his pocket.

The drive to the forest was quiet, with both brothers deep in their own thoughts. After parking the Impala, Dean and Sam started their trek into the woods. Dean kept trying to focus on the task at hand, but it was proving to be difficult. He just couldn't stay focused. There were too many other things on his mind.

The two brothers walked for a half hour before they came to the same clearing they had visited yesterday. They stood there, guns ready and loaded with silver bullets, just waiting. Dean was still trying to focus his attention on the hunt, but his mind kept pulling him in other directions. Sam, meanwhile, heard some branches snap.

"Dean, behind you!" Sam yelled.

Dean whipped around and fired. The werewolf had moved just in time to avoid Dean's bullet and took off running toward the trees.

Sam had come over by his brother. "Come on. Get your head in it."

"Yeah. Sorry," Dean said, before running toward the trees where the werewolf was. Sam ran after his brother, hoping that his brother would be focusing better now.

Dean knew that he was off his game tonight. He had been sick for the last two days, and earlier today, he had been ready to pass out. He was still dealing with a few dizzy spells, but they weren't as frequent as they were earlier in the day. And then there was everything with Castiel. Dean, now more than ever, was questioning if he did the right thing. He missed Castiel, but he wasn't sure if he could forgive Castiel. It was just a lot to think about. Maybe—

"Dean!"

This time, Dean wasn't fast enough. The werewolf reached out one of his giant arms and scratched Dean across his face. The contact caught Dean by surprise and gave the werewolf a chance to grab Dean, pick him up, and throw him across the forest, where he hit a tree and slumped to the ground.

"Dean! Dean!" Sam called out, but his brother remained completely immobile.

Without wasting another second, Sam spun around to face the werewolf. Sam took aim and fired, hitting the werewolf square in the heart. The werewolf dropped to the ground, unmoving.

With the hunt finished and the werewolf dead, Sam ran over to where his brother lay crumpled in a heap of the ground. "Dean? Dean? DEAN!" Sam yelled frantically, hoping his brother would wake up. But Dean didn't even flinch. Sam moved his fingers along Dean's neck, trying to find a pulse. It was there, but it was so weak that Sam was worried that it was going to stop at any second.

Sam knew he had to get his brother to a hospital, and fast. There was blood still pouring out from where the werewolf struck him. Dean leg was bent at an unnatural angle and Sam knew it was going to be a challenge to get Dean to the car without injuring him further.

Sam moved to lift his brother when he heard something rustle and quickly turned around. He was surprised to see Castiel walking toward him.

"Castiel?" Sam asked, still not believing that the angel was actually there.

"Hello, Sam," Castiel responded without taking his eyes off of Dean. Castiel walked over and placed two fingers on Dean's forehead, just like he had done many times previous.

Almost instantly, Dean opened his eyes and Sam ran over to his brother.

"Dean? Dean? Are you alright?" Sam asked frantically.

"What? Yeah," Dean responded, trying to figure out what had just happened. He remembered the werewolf coming at him, but everything was black after that.

"Thank god."

"What happened?" Dean asked. Dean looked past Sam and saw Castiel standing a few feet behind Sam. His eyes widened. There was absolutely no reason for Castiel to be there. Unless, Castiel had decided to not listen to Dean and come and help him anyway.

Sam noticed that Dean wasn't looking at him any more, and was instead focusing on Castiel. "He healed you," Sam explained quickly. Even when Sam talked, Dean did not take his eyes off of Castiel.

"Thanks," Dean said in a small voice. He wasn't completely sure if he was ready to forgive Castiel, but he was still grateful that Castiel had come back even though Dean made it clear that he never wanted to see Castiel again.

"You are welcome," Castiel responded, still not taking his eyes off Dean.

Dean pulled himself to his feet and wiped the dirt from his hands on his jeans. He was still angry with Castiel, but Dean knew that he would have had to talk to Castiel at some point. And since Castiel was already here, now seemed like as good of time as ever. "Sam? Could you give us a minute?"

"Sure. Uh, I'll take the stuff and meet you by the car," Sam said, glancing between Dean and Castiel. Sam picked up the guns and headed back toward where they had parked the car.

Once Sam was out of sight, Dean wasted no time in asking questions. "Why did you come?"

"You were hurt," Castiel said simply.

"I got hurt on my last hunt and you didn't come then," Dean replied.

"You asked me to stay away from you."

"But you still came this time."

"Your injuries were much more serious this time. You needed help."

"Sam would have gotten me to a hospital."

"It would not have been fast or accurate enough. If I came and healed you, you would be healed faster and not have any lasting damage," Castiel explained.

"Yeah, well, thanks for that," Dean muttered.

Castiel turned around and started walking away.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked.

Castiel turned around and said, "The last we spoke, you told me that you didn't want to see me again. I am keeping that request."

"Ok," Dean sighed. Castiel was right. Dean had said that he never wanted to see Castiel again, but now that he was here, Dean wasn't sure that he wanted him to leave. Castiel had started walking away again.

"Wait!" Dean called. Castiel stopped and turned around to face Dean once more.

"What is it?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Dean took a deep breath. "Are you really keeping that guy away from his soulmate?" Dean asked hesitantly.

"No," Castiel responded simply.

Dean was prepared for Castiel to answer yes. He had a whole speech planned in his head for that. But hearing no. That was definitely not what Dean was expecting to hear at all.

"Wait. What?"

"I am not keeping this man from his soulmate."

"How does that even work? The guy has a soulmate. I've seen his wrist. There is definitely a name there," Dean argued. There was just no logical explanation for it. At least, no logical explanation that Dean could come up with.

"His soulmate passed away nearly two years ago," Castiel responded.

"She died?"

"Yes. When his soulmate passed, he prayed for this."

"Why?"

"So he could help others."

Dean had to take a minute to process what Castiel had just told him. Castiel's vessel's soulmate was dead. Castiel's vessel prayed for this so he could help others. Castiel wasn't keeping a poor man from his soulmate. Castiel was doing exactly what the man had wanted.

"I'm sorry," Dean admitted quietly.

"I forgive you," Castiel responded.

Dean stared at Castiel for a moment before he asked, "So, Sam and I are gonna go get something to eat. You wanna come?"