Author's Note: Hiya, readers! I managed to update today, yay! I made a special effort because you're all so lovely and supportive. :P

So, time for today's WALL OF FAME! A huge thanks to: H8rOfToast8899 (no, sorry, I thought that talking about Cas's book too much would distract from the plot), MadWithMusic (oh, haha, that's great!), becca65d (happy chapter soon, I promise!), Gustin azza, crabby06 (that's all right!), crazeebiblio, FreeSpirit18 (that's okay!), Tabby, MusicChannySkyscraper, Hell-homeofintegrity (you're so lovely, thank you!), , kat4543 (yes, there is), Merriam grace, fluffy-CrazyCatLady-whovian (yes, yes I do), tii-chan17 (fluff is soon, ahaha), PixieF (aw, thank you!), jfkgotblownaway, sailorroxy (ooh, I'll go and listen to those songs after I post this chapter!), BellaMonster, Toki Asamia (thanks for all three reviews!), candybracelets, T.R. Cosan and Casismyfavorite! Thank so much, guys! You are the best reviewers I could have asked for. (:

I hope you like this chapter, and things will start getting happier next Tuesday! (:

See you all soon,

~Rainbow Fruit Loop xx

~Praying for Redemption~
Chapter Thirty Six.

Dean's POV

"How do you want your bacon cooked, Sam?" Cas asked from where he was positioned in front of the stovetop. "Crispy? Or not so crispy?"

Sam chuckled to himself, evidently happy in the cosy contentment that was filling the room. "It doesn't count as proper bacon if it's not black and brittle as hell. Bacon needs to be cooked extra crispy, or it's just sort of… ham."

"It's not ham if it's not cooked properly." Dean scoffed, before turning his attention back to the struggle he was having with the 'easy peel' bacon packet. After a few more seconds of inelegant grunting, he submitted, and reached into the drawer to pull out some scissors.

"Did you really have to admit defeat, Dean?" Sam smirked, before striding into the kitchen to reach over Cas and pull the still-closed packet of bacon out of his brother's hands. "You're so weak."

Dean scowled. "Yeah, well, I'd like to see you-" he stopped short when Sam opened the packet effortlessly, and handed it to a faintly amused-looked Cas, who was standing with the frying pan, waiting patiently.

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean muttered light-heartedly, noticing his brother's self-satisfied face. "You're such a bitch. Now go get dressed or something. Me and Cas will cook breakfast. We'll tell you when it's ready."

Sam smirked, knowing exactly what Dean was implying. It was almost sickening, the way Dean and Cas couldn't keep their hands off each other, but it was just so nice to see Dean happy with someone, for once. Sam had never seen Dean in a proper, adult relationship before, and it was nice to see him so head-over-heels.

He knew that Dean was properly in love, even if he hadn't said it to Cas yet.

"Well, just don't let the bacon burn." Sam snickered childishly, before heading off down the hallway to change out of his plaid pyjamas.

"I thought you said you liked it burnt!" Dean shouted after him, before he turned back to Cas, who was looking mildly amused by the whole situation.

"You really didn't need to send Sam out of the room, Dean." Cas chided lightly, but Dean wasn't really paying attention, because he was too focused on the way Cas's lovely mouth formed around the words he was speaking.

"I think I did." Dean grinned, pulling Cas's body tight against his own. "Because now we can entertain ourselves as we wait for the bacon to cook."

Cas smiled, and just the sight of the emotion on his face made Dean smile too. Cas's smiles were beautiful things indeed, and it always made Dean feel like one of the luckiest people in the world, because, usually, those amazing smiles were reserved for him.

Gently, Dean leant down, and pressed a soft kiss to Cas's full lips, smiling at the taste of the bitter orange juice that tainted his lover's mouth. Cas responded enthusiastically, as he always did; his soft lips whispering gentle murmurs against Dean's every pore.

Dean reached up and threaded his fingers through Cas's endearingly-tousled hair, and pulled his mouth harder against his own; their tongues meeting and dancing a graceful waltz in time to their frantically-beating hearts.

"Have I told you that you're beautiful, Cas?" Dean breathed, pulling away to press warm kisses down Cas's long neck. "So beautiful."

Cas chuckled quietly; so softly that Dean could have missed it, if it he wasn't so focused on Cas's every movement. "Yes, you have. You tell me every day, Dean. Thank you."

After a few more minutes of tender kissing, Dean decided, screw being all gentlemanly, and pushed Cas up against the kitchen bench roughly; smirking as Cas let out a low, embarrassing moan.

"Shh," Dean whispered, pressing a teasing finger to Cas's chapped lips, "Sam might hear you, and then he'll wonder what we're doing in here, when we're supposed to be cooking the bacon."

But then, just to spite him, Dean thought, Cas darted forwards and pressed his hot, wet lips against Dean's neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin in a way that made Dean squirm uncomfortably, because it felt far too fucking good to be healthy.

"Jesus Christ, Cas!" Dean whimpered, his voice heavy with arousal. "Fuck this, fuck Sam, fuck everything. Come here. Now."

And, as their muted whimpers and muffled gasps faded into the background noise of the early-morning racket outside the window, Sam let himself out of the apartment, a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his pretty face.

Life was simply perfect.

Dean didn't really eat bacon much anymore. In fact, Dean rarely ate anything anymore. It wasn't so much that he had lost his appetite, it was just… He couldn't really be bothered to get up, cook something, and then sit down and eat it, because he was sure he'd end up throwing it all back up again afterwards.

He didn't really do much of anything these days. Mainly sleeping, he supposed, but even that was fitful and fleeting in its respite. And even when he managed to fall into a deep, exhausted slumber, his dreams were filled with cerulean eyes and quiet smiles; a beautiful man with more grace than any seraph in heaven could ever hope to hold.

And then he'd wake up the next morning, and, for a single second, he'd be happy again. But then he'd notice that the sheets beside him were cold, and that his pillow was uncomfortably damp with tears so commonly shed, and he'd be reminded all over again of everything he had lost, and everything he had ruined.

Life wasn't perfect anymore, and Dean hated how it never would be.

A month after Cas moved out, Dean still wasn't doing anything with his life. He had quit his job temporarily - they didn't even really need him at the mechanics, and he was confident with the men he had left in charge. They had done him well over the past few years, and they had coped well without him when he had been on the road trip with Sam. Oh, that cursed road trip; it really had been the start of the end.

At the moment, Dean was doing what he spent most of his days doing; lounging despondently in front of the television, some sort of alcoholic beverage in his hand. Today, it was just a beer - they'd run out of anything stronger, and Dean couldn't be bothered to go down to the shops to get some more.

He knew he was wallowing in a numb sort of unfair self pity, and he hated it. He deserved to feel the most unimaginable pain, but mostly he was just tired; too tired to pay attention to the shattered pieces of his heart, and too tired to care about anything at all, except for the fact that Cas was gone, and, as more time passed, it seemed very unlikely that he was coming back.

Cas… He was the best thing that had ever happened to Dean, and Dean didn't know how he had ever thought that there was something more important in life than what he had had with Cas. Cas had given him everything, like he had said; his trust, his heart, his soul. He was everything Dean wanted in life; a trustworthy best friend, and a thoughtful, passionate lover, but Dean had ruined it all, just like he always knew he would.

As much as focusing on his own pain hurt, Dean didn't even want to think about how Cas must be feeling about everything, because then he'd get far too miserable and guilty, and he wouldn't be able to stop seeing Cas's betrayed, heartbroken face, and then the tears would start and his stomach would clench and he'd have trouble breathing, and oh god, it was starting again, because Cas's eyes had been so incredibly fucking wounded and Dean would never get over how much he had screwed up, not as long as he lived.

It wasn't often that Dean was reduced to a whimpering, snotty mess, but losing Cas was like losing his soul, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to function without either. And it was times like these, as he lay, staring up at the ceiling with teary eyes, praying for redemption from a god he didn't believe in, that he thought of his mother, and wondered what she'd think of him now.

She'd be so disappointed.

After a few minutes of blinking back his tears, Dean managed to calm down enough to breathe at a normal pace. Thankfully, it was at that point that the apartment door swung open, and Sam walked in. And, God, Dean was thankful for Sam's presence in his life, because Sam was the only person capable of keeping him sane in such empty times.

"You're home early." Dean stated dully, slightly confused by Sam's heavy breathing and red face. Had he been running? He was supposed to be out on a date with some girl he was already head over heels in love with, so what was he doing home at a mere seven o'clock?

"Yeah." Sam took a deep breath in, and Dean got the feeling that it wasn't because of his out-of-breath state, but because he was gathering up the strength to say something. "I needed to come and see you. You know how Cas said he was writing a book?"

In all honesty, Dean had completely forgotten that Cas had been writing a book. He had been too busy drinking himself into oblivion; anything to forget that there was a painful hole in his chest, and it was screaming at him to be felt. But Dean nodded his head weakly anyway.

"Well, he published it. And I got you a copy." Sam walked over to the sofa, and pulled a relatively thick book out of the plastic carrier bag that Dean hadn't noticed him holding. "It's, uh, really successful, Dean. There were only three copies left after I bought this."

Dean cleared his throat, and managed to force out a choked, "Thank you, Sam." He wasn't quite sure how he felt about Cas's novel being published. Of course, he was proud that it was such a success, but did that mean that Cas was fine without him? Was Cas functioning like a proper human, while Dean had turned into this lethargic mess? Had Cas… moved on?

And, even though he wanted nothing more than for Cas to be all right and content with his life, Dean didn't want to think that Cas was completely fine - and maybe even happy - without him. That wasn't right. They were supposed to be anguished without each other. They were supposed to not know how to live without the other at their sides. Cas was supposed to find his way back into Dean's ever-open arms.

"I'll be in my room, if you need me." Sam murmured, his eyes all understanding and concerned. "Everything will be fine, Dean. I'm sure things will turn out well, in the end." Dean wondered how obvious the distress scrawled across his face was, and, again, he thanked his lucky stars that Sam knew exactly what to say in situations like these.

"Thank you, Sammy."

After he had heard the click of Sam's bedroom door shutting, Dean opened the first few pages of the book, his heart pounding painfully against his ribcage. He almost flicked right past the dedication page, but something - and he wasn't sure what it was - made him go back.

And, it only took one sentence to reduce him to a messy, emotional wreck, because, despite everything, Cas had kept his promise, even after Dean had failed him. Cas still cared about him, despite everything Dean had put him through.

"For Dean, the man I loved and the man I lost."

And Dean hated how it sounded so final.