"No." Castiel said with all the authority of a garrison commander, "It could kill Dean. You cannot GIS-IAX a human."

"Castiel, I will not allow Dean to die," Michael looked down his nose at the former angel, "The seeker is required to complete the spell. Without Dean, heaven cannot be re-opened to us."

"There are worse things than dying," Sam muttered.

"It could damage him," Castiel's glare went up a notch, "It may alter his memory, his mind…"

"It may," Michael admitted casually, "With every significant ritual there must be sacrifice. You all have spilled your blood enough times to know this."

"But Dean is…" Castiel started.

"Stop Cas. Just stop a second. It's OK." Dean sighed. He needed a moment to get his head around this. "Cas's Grace… There's this kinda thread of it still in me from when he sewed me back together, when he… raised me outta Hell?"

Michael and Castiel both nodded.

Sam kept up Dean's stitching analogy, "But if you unpick the seams won't Dean come apart?"

"Yes, in essence. I will rip and re-bind as I proceed." Michael explained slowly.

"Sounds awesome," Dean scrubbed his hair with his hand.

"It will be painful. I will have to force Castiel's Grace out with my own."

"Wait!" Dean held up a hand, "Do you mean you want to wear me like an angel condom?"

"It would be simpler if you consented to be my vessel. I could return John to his pregnant wife. I would simply spit out the foreign Grace. But I know you will not consent," Michael said wearily, "Therefore I will need to remold your soul and its connection to your physical form."

"Damn right I am not saying yes." Dean spat, "I'll take your pain and power wash cycle."

Castiel looked like he wanted to butt in. Dean gave a slight headshake towards him and Sam. He realized Michael had gone still again, not so much that he was not breathing this time, but enough so that Dean felt the dickwad was waiting for the nod to get started using a melon scoop on Dean's soul from the inside.

Dean figured that if he did not pause to let them have their say, but leapt straight to firing the starting pistol, Michael might not kill him, but Sam and Cas might.

"I need a minute," Dean said. Michael remained blank faced. Dean repeated, "I need a minute with Cas and Sam, private like."

Comprehension dawned on the archangel, "Oh, I will be outside then. Call me back when you are ready to proceed."

"Cas?" Dean stuttered, "I gotta do this. I can't be selfish… I gotta do it, but Man, I need you."

He held out his hand. Castiel caught it and tugged Dean towards him. He was squeezed tight, so tight, it was like Castiel was trying to impart some of his new self into Dean's body.

Sam came and perched his ass on the altar. "You don't gotta do anything, Dean."

"I do. This one is on me." Dean spoke over Castiel's shoulder. His partner was showing no signs of letting go.

"No. You don't Dean." Sam said with emphasis, "This is not some game of one-upmanship where you finish off your quests."

"What? Come again," Dean blinked and pulled marginally apart from Castiel, who kept hold of his hand, "No Sammy. It's not. Didn't you hear Mikey? He is not going to allow me to die."

"Dean, that is not at all comforting," Castiel said, "Remember Donnie Finnerman? Raphael's vessel. He was in a catatonic state when Raphael vacated him. Michael's Grace can purge mine out, but it could purge your mind, Dean."

"Mikey is not gonna Cuckoo's Nest me. He needs me to commence his glorious march back through the pearly gates." At least Dean hoped he wouldn't leave him like a freaking vegetable.

"Head to a gateway location, pour the vial into the amphora, say a few words of rehearsed Enochian. How much of your frontal lobe do you think Michael would assess as needing to remain to achieve that?" Sam clenched his fists, "And it would be nothing to him, nothing. Do you hear me Dean? This isn't some minor player. Michael will do what he wants with your soul, mind and life."

"I do hear you, Sammy. I don't think he is gonna do that. He wants a walking talking living Dean." Dean shifted so his body was flush with Castiel's side, "Cas? Will I remember you?"

"I can't say. Holy Father, I don't know Dean. If you were an angel it would be excruciating to have your bond-mark removed but only the spiritual connection between the two angels is lost when they wish to break that union. They do not lose memories or their personalities. But this is more than breaking our bond and you are not an angel. He is going to tease apart everything that makes you… you." Castiel's eyes filled, "I don't know if any trace of me will remain. You may retain everything. You may only lose memories that are directly linked to my Grace. You may recover memories of me you have forgotten as Michael triggers them. Or I may become a stranger to you."

"Fuck." Sam huffed.

"Ditto." Dean bit his lip, "Listen Cas. I won't forget you. I'll hold on to every minute, every meeting, every dream, prayer, reunion, fight… Hell I'll even grip onto every time I was mean to you, and called you names…"

Castiel cupped the back of Dean's head and pulled him down so that their foreheads pressed against each other. "If you do forget me, I'll still be here. I'll make you remember. We'll make new memories."

"Don't leave me Cas." Dean pleaded, "Even if I'm a complete assbutt to you. Don't listen to me if I don't believe you're my partner. Show me our photographs. Get Sammy to beat it into me. Let me read Chuck's later online books and Sam's letter again. Just don't give up on me."

"Never." Castiel breathed Dean's air.

"I have to do this. Please." Dean gulped. "I can't without your… You're good, right Cas?"

He froze the running stream of thoughts. He could do it without Castiel's approval and support, but he didn't want to. If he was going to let Michael tear through his soul, he needed to know Castiel had his back.

Cas took a moment to answer. "Remember Rosa, the psychic?"

Dean could see Sam's raised eyebrow, "In Oklahoma. Yes Cas."

"Remember she said the fates of many rested on my word, that I must let you give your sacrifice but I would not be alone again." Cas summarized, "She was right so far. I choose to believe she was right about that too. We will not be alone. We will get through this and remain together."

Dean nodded, touching their brows together again.

"I think I'm ready." Dean said and steeled his resolve. He pulled back from Castiel, walked over to Sam and gained a hug from the other most important person in his life. "Sammy…"

"No words, Dee." Sam's arms were regaining some of their power. Dean was in danger of bruising. "I'll be right here."

When Sam released him, Castiel wrapped his arms sinuously around Dean's waist. "I am going nowhere."

Dean nodded, gritted his teeth and called, "Showtime Mikey."

Michael popped back onto the same spot on the floor. He carefully sidestepped the holy oil to reach the altar. When there he snapped his fingers and all the angel summoning paraphernalia vanished.

"Hey douche, myrrh doesn't grow on trees y'know?" Dean grumbled.

"Actually it does," Professor Sam corrected as he moved back out of Michael's way, "It's a resin."

"Thank you brainiac bitch." Dean gave his brother a shitfaced grin.

"Excuse me." Michael said pointedly. "Dean it would be more convenient if you would lie on the altar."

"Freaking hell. Like in Sisters of Lesbos IV? Isn't that taking the sacrifice crap well beyond the end zone?"

"I do not understand your objection." Michael blinked.

"Sisters of Lesbos… Bella Donna and Pussy Cox in nuns' wimples and not much else…" Dean began.

"Stop." Michael bellowed. "What is your objection to lying flat?"

"A man should face death with his boots on." Dean tried in vain.

"I told you that you will survive the extraction." Michael's speech was clipped with annoyance. "I can do it anywhere but if your legs fail you, would it not be easier if you are already prone?"

"I'll stay with you." Castiel whispered again. He didn't let go of Dean's hand as he used his other arm to help shuffle his denim clad butt onto the altar.

Dean took a deep breath as he lowered his back onto the hard surface and straightened his legs. He looked up. He could see Michael rolling up his sleeve. He guessed they would start with traditional soul checking torture. Super. Peachy. Awesome. He tried to focus on the symbol decorated ceiling instead. Castiel's face moved to block his vision. His head tilted down and he sucked Dean's lip into this mouth. Dean opened up for him. Castiel drove his tongue in, pushing with a passionate urgency which Dean met in kind. It would not be their last kiss. It would not. Dean would not allow it to be, no matter what.