A/N - This is my theory on what will happen because I know that Cas being taken by the Empty isn't final. None of the cast is saying anything FINAL and I'll have hope that he comes back until the very end.

In terms of what happens to Chuck, I'm still a bit skeptical because they've wowed me so far. So I developed this fanfiction with theories to cope.

"The one thing you want,

"you can have it. All of it."

From the moment they collided again, Sam sensed something was wrong with his brother.

Dean's eyes were shifty, he kept flexing his fingers over and over again like he was trying to regain feeling within them. His eyes were reddened from crying, a definite bloody handprint on his left shoulder. The coat was worn and creased, as was his pants and he refused to address the elephant in the room. He glanced around, decided that Jack and everything else was fucked, and his lips barely twitched before the inevitable came to light.

"I was calling you, man," the taller Winchester said with a scowl, "like five times. This had nothing to do with Billie. It was all…" when Dean's chest heaved, like he was carrying around a heavy burden which couldn't be contained inside his body, Sam stopped. Their eyes connected and because he understood his brother so well, he huffed out a sigh before nodding. "Not this again. I told you I'm done with the secrets. What the hell happened back there? As a matter of fact, where the hell is Cas?"

"You good?" Dean deflected by pursing his lips and considering Jack, trying to pretend that he actually cared and when he received a simple blank stare, he nodded. "Good, we're all in game mode. So let's talk about the fact that it's not Billie but it's Chuck, wiping every goddamn piece off the board and leaving us three cornered. If that's what he wants, we wouldn't go down easy."

"Dean, you can't keep deflecting like this—"

"It's what I do," the older Winchester said harshly with a sudden glare, "and it's what gets me going. We don't have time for anything else right now. Get your head in the game."

Thirty minutes after and on the road again, Sam just about had enough. He flipped off the heavy music, turned to scowl at his brother and bubbled up with a wave of anger that wouldn't simmer down. "Stop the car."

"Huh?" Dean's eyes were reddened and glistening with tears, migraine turning into an earthquake when he glanced at Sam. Almost, he almost had it in his grasp and because they weren't pieces on the board, but rebelled, then the worst kind of ending presented itself and—

"Stop the car, Dean!"

"Fine! Dammit," pulling into the shoulder of the road, the older Winchester braced himself for the conversation that needed to happen because it was Sam. Sam would never let things go because he felt entitled to know every single detail there was about Dean. And maybe he was pretty screwed up at that point to decipher what the hell had happened, but he wasn't prepared to vent. Not when the wounds were so fresh. Not when every single joint in his body was aching from sobbing and crying and becoming utterly confused. Not when the very essence of the world and why it had meaning suddenly had no meaning.

I always wondered what my true happiness could even look like

Because the one thing I want, is something I know I can't have

Everything you have ever done, the good and bad, you have done for love

You are the most caring man on earth

You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know

Knowing you has changed me

I cared about you.

I cared about the whole world because of you

You changed me, Dean

I love you.

The feel of the hard floor underneath him and crying, shaking, deep sobs and him chanting over and over again, "I have to get him back. I have to get him back. I have to…get him…back." Until his throat ached and he felt like the flu was coming on strong.

"Dean!"

"What?" he couldn't understand how he was already outside of the car, standing with the cold wind turning his face into ice, his tears feeling like icicles and blindly, he stared around until returning those widened eyes onto his brother.

"Dean, where is Cas?" Sam's tone softened when he began to latch onto the worry, the fear, the confusion and the doubts. His brother refused to allow any kind of movement and his locks whipped around after being touched by the wind.

"Cas is…uh…gone," his voice cracked, just as his heart was cracking into a million pieces when he could have been allowed to feel whole again. He should have it all, should have been so happy too, but he wasn't lucky. "Sam, he's gone. The…Empty…took him. He…" staring at his brother like a deer in the headlights, Dean swallowed, "…sacrificed himself for me. It all happened so fast and I—"

"Okay, breathe," Sam reached out and tentatively took a hold of Dean's right shoulder, pleading for them to just trust each other again so that the truth could come to light slowly. "Listen to me, okay? We're going to get him back. No matter what happens, we're going to get him back because the Empty isn't final. He's not dead and he's come back before. Jack brought him back."

"But the deal…he said he's gone forever—"

"Dean, since when does any of us stay dead? There's always another way and we'll find it."

"I just couldn't say it back," Dean said so softly and so suddenly, his green eyes leaking tears onto his jacket that still held a bloody handprint like it was a symbol of something he couldn't let go of. Something he needed to hold onto because if he didn't, nothing else mattered. Not Chuck anymore, not the world, because his world was over. His world was gone.

"You couldn't say what back?" Sam frowned as Jack turned to consider them standing by the trunk of the car. His eyes were listless. "Dean?"

"You don't understand, it was never supposed to be like this. I…" Dean choked on his sobs, unable to breathe, "I…kept on going with all this anger inside of me because I just couldn't admit to myself that I could have it. Every damn time I thought of it, I deflected and it just built up, you know? It kept getting worse and I know that I keep saying that I just want Chuck dead and it's all I focus on. I just want it so bad and I never understood why until…he made me see it." Blinking through his tears and glancing around, Dean lifted his fingers that trembled to cover his nose, "I thought this was all part of Chuck's plan for me, you know? I'd never get what I wanted, I'd die alone and never have anyone to…"

The truth was settling in despite the inability of his brother to come right out and spare the ending but Sam grasped enough to understand that this wasn't just Dean losing his best friend. This was also Dean crashing into the fact that he had an epiphany and from the instant he realized what all of it meant, the epitome of his fights, his feelings, his fears was snatched away.

"Sam, he told me he…loves…me and I didn't get to say it back, I…froze up and focused on losing him because he was going to give himself up…for me…I can't…" weakly grasping at the trunk of the Impala, Dean would have crumbled to his knees if his brother didn't capture him into his arms. Instantly, he buried his face into Sam's shoulder and simply gave into the tears again. He cried effortlessly, without shame and exhibiting pure pain, something Sam hadn't witnessed before because nothing in his brother's life could have killed him like what happened.

"We'll get him back."

"How could you…not find anything wrong with this?" Dean pulled away to connect their eyes. "Don't you get it? I'm…saying that I'm…that I have feelings…for…Cas."

"I know, Dean. I've known for a long time," Sam said softly, immediately causing green orbs to widen although distress registered on the older Winchester's face. "I've probably known before you. And I've seen the way Cas hangs onto you. I've seen how he looks at you, how he comes to you, saves you. I've known for a long time that he's been in love with you and I was just waiting on you to catch up…"

"Why didn't you say anything about it?"

"Because that was a conversation you'd love to have with me, right?" Sam asked sarcastically. "Come on, man. You wouldn't have admitted it and now that…" he swallowed hard and tears filled his own eyes. "Now that we've both lost the one person we love more than ourselves, then we've got to find a way to get them back. So I'm telling you exactly what you told me earlier. I'm going to ask you to focus on kicking some ass because people have to pay and we're not going to stop until we get our happy endings."

Nodding and appearing so broken, so bruised and terrified, and very much vulnerable, Dean inhaled and his chest heaved before he glanced at the car and highlighted Jack sitting motionless inside. "You know, part of the reason why I couldn't stand the kid was because I felt like me and Cas were always co-parenting and now that he's not here. I feel even more like a father because—"

"His other dad is floating around out there and we need to pull him back in with us. You," Sam highlighted, "need to get him back because you're what makes him happy and this is only going to work if you keep the faith. It's not okay for Cas to not know that you feel the same way…"

"Why couldn't he just realize it before? We had so many years behind us where there was no damn deal."

"Dean, Cas told you multiple times he loves you but not in those exact words, man."

"He said what he wants…he can't ever have…" voice cracking, the older Winchester turned to consider the highway vacant except for a truck lumbering its way in the distance like his own feelings coming like waves and crashing down like a tsunami. "I just am so mad at him for thinking that he couldn't have me…"

"Why?" Sam asked with a frown.

Dean sighed. "Because since he raised me from hell, he's always had me."

"Wow," stepping back a little and genuinely impressed, the taller Winchester was ultimately surprised. "Where is Dean and what the hell have you done to my brother? This is you talking? Like really you? Why the hell didn't you say any of this before, man? Why did it take you so long to get it off your chest?"

"Because when you've got feelings for your best friend who happens to be an angel and a dude at the same time, there's plenty you can't really say out loud because you're just…afraid, man. You're…." Dean sighed and his eyes filled with tears, "…terrified that whatever it is between you will break. I mean, he actually said that he always wondered what would make him happy and he gave much thought into it and nothing came up. So what we had between us was normal to him, was…I don't know…peaceful. And we both took it for granted without saying it."

"I really don't think that's what he meant," Sam, the ever good one at analyzing human emotions shook his head and frowned. "I think what Cas means is that he knew what he wanted for a long time. He knew he wanted you in a way you may never consider as normal. And because he was so sure that you would never feel the same, he kept on living with those feelings inside of him."

"That's why saying it out loud made him happy…" when the truth finally sank in, Dean studied the car with distant eyes and really and truly decided that he was ten times sadder than before. "That's why he looked so happy when he finally said it."

"Exactly, and now guess who has to find him back and tell him that he's not alone?" the raised eyebrows and small smile only suggested that determination to fulfil that promise would definitely include his own efforts.

The aftermath of the battle left them drained.

Whilst Billie was obviously dying, thanks to Dean, someone needed to take her place and it just so happened that the person who wasn't prepared to collect the scythe was no other than Jack. Now such a role terrified him to a point where he sunk into denial before Dean decided that this was where he needed to take the place of Castiel. This was where he needed to do something, to change the game as it was already changing and after meeting Jack halfway, he laid out the rest.

"It's not what you want, I know that," he said whilst his chest still felt light and heavy at the same time, whilst his head became dizzied and steady. "But it's what you're meant to become. This is where you suck it up, believe in yourself that you can do this and take the challenge because it ain't ever going to be easy, Jack. It's just going to keep being this way until you learn to embrace it. And if it's one thing…Cas…taught me…" his eyes tore up and he reached for the door of the Impala because they were still on the road, "it's uh…" Dean reached up to slide a tear away, "…to embrace our fears. So…you…this is for you."

"How is this supposed to be a good thing though? Death isn't something good. It's something bad," Jack studied the older man's face and frowned.

"No it isn't. It's peaceful and never final. Memories live on and you're going to be responsible for making sure that people rest the way they should. I think you'll like it because you like helping those who can't find their way. You'll guide them."

He never thought his speeches would work, but a sparkle returned to Jack's eyes all of a sudden and he nodded slowly before a smile spread across his face.

"Just like Cas…death isn't final for him because we'll get him back. We'll help him find his way back to us."

Dean's throat closed up and his face contorted before licking his lips. "Right, Jack," he croaked, offering a tight smile. "That's exactly what I meant."

That was easy.

What wasn't easy was pushing forward with the weight on his back that the man who loved him, had sacrificed himself for him. And maybe he thought that none of this was even going to work, but at least he learned from someone very special that it wasn't a bad thing to have hope.

But it hurt.

Dean felt Castiel's absence like the worst pain he had ever experienced in his life. Sometimes he would just be sitting somewhere or standing in the middle of nowhere whilst they were fighting a war and his fingers would twitch. His pores raised, senses tingling and just for a few seconds, the world became muted. The actuality of knowing that they were close in some strange way didn't unsettle him but it stunned him to a point where he turned around and stared but there was nothing there.

Then it dawned upon Dean like an old familiar term which was used so long ago and now felt less ridiculous but more sensible.

Dean and I do share a profound bond.

He felt him because he was there, possibly behind another plane of existence but always there following him and because Dean understood what the term meant now, he savored it. Sinking down next to the Impala and crying from frustration, from wondering how he was going to tear away the barrier separating them to pull the man he loved out, he felt lost without him. And if he could have only known that the same scene was mirrored in the Empty, Castiel sinking to his knees and crying, raking his fingers through his hair and wishing that they could have had something, but never believing that he thought it was deserving.

They were on opposite sides of a wall, but they were still one.

The Empty was shaken up in ways that no one predicted, awakening beings who were asleep like Balthazar, Crowley, Gabriel and many others that crawled up into a standing position, groggy and discovered a lone ranger falling to his knees among their midst.

"Cassie? Is that really you?" the reality dawning on the other angel that this was possibly awakening from years of slumber kicked his senses alive again. "Dear God," he whispered when the pair of blue eyes, reddened from crying studied his own, "where are we?"

"The Empty, you moron," Crowley fluffed up himself with a generous amount of nerves and composure and tried to smile. "This is the place all of us lovely winged and feathered and horned creatures come when we die gloriously."

As if completely mortified about what was occurring him and the familiar faces, Castiel studied the sea of people and felt like on top of his heart and chest already breaking, there would be more challenges. He didn't wish to speak to anyone. Not in that state. Not when he absolutely was supposed to feel elated in every sense of the word and instead decided that he was torn apart at the seams and burnt repeatedly by emotions.

Dean.

How could he have thought that admitting the truth would be comforting? Despite the actuality of saving Dean, he really never intended to reveal anything because leaving the younger man hanging was possibly the worst kind of fate ever. He remembered how Dean's face crumbled, how his thoughts screamed so many things, his head exploding and in between those words, there was one simple sentence that kept beating like a pulse.

I need you.

But he needed to save him, and in order to save the people you love, sacrifices would be made. Loss. Pain. Letting go. Years of loving a human. Finally deciding that he just couldn't suffocate himself anymore and he needed to break the silence whilst saving them both because without him, Dean would be able to live and focus without the burden of someone who made bad decisions. Dean would thrive and return to normal after all of this, because he would find a way to defeat Chuck, would push through the pain of losing him but get past it eventually.

Now after dwelling among the whispers and the pale forms that resembled ghosts because they were fading over the years, Castiel really felt like he didn't belong in there. He couldn't stand the blackness that engulfed them, the inky feeling of a pit of voices which welled up and chewed on his mind and his heart. And because he felt cramped and terrified and suffocated from the inability to see anything else, others experienced the same thing.

"I've got an idea," Balthazar said after pulling his good old friend and brother aside and away from the crowd of frantic people. "And it's a brilliant one because I've seen it work before."

"We can't get out—"

"Don't be so final, and dramatic. And besides, I called it. I could smell him all over you when we met up. You were in love with him even before you understood the meaning of the word love, so don't be a drama queen. What you need to be…is optimistic."

"Balthazar," Castiel said angrily, growing frustrated with the usual banter of the other angel, "in case you haven't noticed, there is no escape from this place. I've only done it before because I had help from a powerful celestial being whose powers I'm sure are diminished right now. Plus my deal with the Empty was to remain here forever…so—"

"Deals have loopholes, darling," and winking, Balthazar provided a brilliant plan which didn't make sense initially because it belonged to fairytales and wishful thinking. But he nevertheless delivered a small sliver of hope and despite his inability to completely jump on board, Castiel decided that it wouldn't hurt to listen.

"Do you have anything belonging to them; be it Dean except his scent all over you, Sam perhaps, or even Jack?"

For a moment Castiel shook his head and debated on what that could possibly mean besides the older Winchester owning his heart. He had nothing left, nothing at all except an endless supply of love. But then…

"I have one thing that he never truly took back from me—"

"Please don't tell me it's your virginity because I'd hate to break it to you that you're never going to get that back."

"His amulet, you ass," Castiel said with a scowl although his cheeks turned bright red and fishing the necklace out of his pocket, he produced it, clipped between two fingers and hanging downwards like a beacon of hope. "I figured that he may ask for it if he missed it and since he never did—"

"You kept it. Interesting." Balthazar tried to touch the most precious thing to the other man and it was snatched away. "Don't be so hostile towards me when I'm trying to help you. All I'm going to say is, if you've got something of his, then the connection is still there. It's like when someone dies, and part of their spirit latches onto something…be it a bangle, a pair of lace panties, possibly a condom although I've never heard of that or a dildo. This necklace," the older man's widened and humorous eyes studied the odd symbol, "is a link to him and all you have to do, is use it."

"How?" he wished to shut out the ridiculous banter but entertained it. "How will I use a necklace to get back to Dean? And maybe I don't want to go back. Maybe I'm supposed to stay here because he would never feel the same about me. This I know for a fact—"

"How do you know that for a fact? The man's mouth would water if you just ditched the trench coat every once and awhile. I think he's absolutely not straight and my gaydar flipped whenever he was around. Why I'm telling you this? It's because I know that despite his inability to embrace how he feels about you, after you dropped it like it's hot, you've exploded his world. So, I'm definitely sure that right now, he's pining over you more than he's ever done. Absence does make the heart grow fonder and…hornier…"

The plan seemed to be simple but it wasn't. They tried to use the amulet as a medium to generate some kind of connection, or magic. But nothing worked. They even pulled Crowley into the trials but he was too pompous to develop any theories and it was Gabriel who, after a light bulb went off in his head, decided that the necklace must be used like a flashlight to guide Castiel towards an exit.

So he held it out, mulled around the blackness for a few minutes and decided that it was an epic fail…

Until…

Something about the end of the war didn't rest well with Dean though, even after people kept coming back and a sense of normalcy returned like the aftermath of devastation. Chuck was dead by the hands of two entities who scalded and ripped him to pieces, along with their help and Jack of course. But it never felt right to Dean. Because none of them could ever understand what his sense of self meant, and when he gazed upon Charlie being reunited with her girlfriend, he excused himself to shake the tears away in solitude.

Why was it fair?

He deserved this.

He deserved to not be happy, he would die alone because he would always lose the ones he loved one by one.

What Dean never anticipated was that Sam was always the hopeful one who proved miracles could happen. He didn't really fathom the how nor the why but he was more thrilled about the finally. Someone or something to be thanked, fate lighting up and presenting another chance because they were real. And he must have latched onto his brother's sliver of hope a little, because Dean still felt like Castiel was there and they were just calming down at that point.

Sam had Eileen back, he was happy but sympathetic and everyone else had everyone. They were complete and beautiful and he was still ripped into shreds and bleeding and didn't want to live anymore because he couldn't. He couldn't spend the rest of his life without Castiel by his side. He just didn't want to do it.

He remembered charging into somewhere, nowhere that mattered, and doing so fueled by determination to win until…

"Dean?"

The voice that clung to the corners of his mind like velvet and would never ever be forgotten. He thought he was dreaming. "Cas…" face contorting, he stared at the wall in front of him and the tears came flooding back, the ghost of someone he would always love was now haunting him and he couldn't even see him. He could only hear him.

The many nights when sleep didn't come because those hours were charged with adrenaline, him mostly fueled by heartbreak and he experienced something that never crossed him before…

The beautiful rawness of love. Until those blue eyes were gone, the desire pooling inside his gut disappeared and he burned away the ghost like it was a bad thing.

But then…

"Dean, it's me. Look…" Castiel choked on a sob, his voice becoming broken, "…at me. I'm right here."

He was there, and Dean could feel him and after turning around and facing the visage of a man who was every single thing that resembled love and comfort and stability and shelter and beauty, he stopped breathing. Was it possible? He could have what he wanted after spending so many years being deprived of such things? Loss, despair? He really stood a chance of being happy?

Dean stood there for a span of two seconds before his feet willed themselves to move, and lips trembling, he rushed forward in a swoop which resembled a rush of a wave eager to quench the thirst of the shore.

"Cas?"

"Dean, is that really you?" the angel didn't smile but seemed so terrified of what their meeting would mean. Best friends? Friends? Strangers because he confessed and really didn't mean anything platonic?

It didn't matter though because he was too familiar with what he needed to do and Dean tasted the air between them and he started to drown.

"How did you?" Taking Castiel's shoulders and squeezing, the younger man studied the immense blue eyes and instantly highlighted that something was different. Something was off, very off. "How the hell did you get out? We've been trying to find a way. We've been…trying so hard…" his voice disappeared in a croak.

"Does it matter the how?"

"I thought I lost you forever," lifting his fingers that trembled to cover his stunned expression, Dean's chest heaved uncontrollably. "I thought—"

"I thought I would too but with the help of someone…" that small, stiff smile whilst his chest was exploding from anticipation, "I managed to come out…in a manner of speaking…once again."

"I didn't get to say it back," Dean rushed out, his hands trembling and heart racing, "Cas, I didn't get to…I didn't…" not now, not when he was so willing to think it and feel it but he couldn't form the words. "You're not the only one," he tried with tears trailing down his cheeks. "You're not alone and…we're real. We're very real. And I…"

The stunned look on Castiel's face immediately tumbled into a wave of relief that brought forth so many tears that flowed abundantly before he weakly drifted closer. His fingers inched nearer, finding Dean's own and whilst gazing at each other with love and fear and hesitation, the younger man entwined their hands.

In that moment Castiel weakened so much that he braved those tears and an abundance of teeth and he a soft chuckle, "Are you trying to tell me that you're…"

"The one thing you want," Dean said in a whisper, his fingers crawling upwards to capture the older man's warm neck, "you can have it. All of it. If you just…if we just go through this together and try to figure out what it means and—"

When he was silenced with a kiss, it was nothing short of explosive and so new that Dean's knees buckled before he was captured and held up in strong arms. He didn't taste anything other than everything human about Castiel, his electric energy dulled and possibly gone, the weight of his emotions raining down through every second that he kissed Dean deeply. Trying to deliver everything he always wanted to expel and unearthing moans from them until the world didn't matter anymore.

What mattered was Castiel and their bodies fitting perfectly together.

"Did you…did I do that right?"

Dean smiled and their lips danced together, tasting each other's breaths. "You did. Everything about you has always felt right."

"I think I'm a human," Castiel said afterwards, when their cheeks rubbed together and the reaching of arms felt like a permanent loop. "I can feel more. I can…feel that my grace is gone because I somehow lost it whilst finding my way back to you. But it doesn't matter."

"We'll get it back, don't worry—"

"No, no," Castiel took Dean's wet face between his palms and smiled so widely and happily, "I don't want it back, okay? I don't ever want to live like that again where I was deprived of feeling more and needing you more. I want to be like this. I rebelled for you, Dean. I gave up everything for you."

"And I'll spend the rest of my life paying you back for that."

Please let me know if you have hope now.
Did you enjoy it?
How do you think it will happen?