A/N: All right. This practically wrote itself. All errors are my own. I'm sorry. Post episode fic to 15x18. I needed to get this out. But, damn, Berens, Speight, and everyone (Donna, Charlie, Billie, our boys, all of them) freaking killed it, didn't they? Like... wow... anyway. Here you go.

My Angel

His phone continued to vibrate, unanswered. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't do anything but sit there and sob. No . . . no . . . not again. Not fucking again!

This couldn't be happening. Not again.

"I love you."

The words echoed heavy around the room, latching onto his heart and squeezing it.

The damn idiot of his . . . who sacrificed himself yet again . . . for Dean . . .

The image of Cas smiling as the black ooze took him, smiling and feeling genuinely happy repeated in Dean's mind on an endless loop.

Telling his truth—how he loved this stupid, rule-breaking, broken, emotionally-constipated hunter from Kansas—had set Cas free. Set him free from another stupid deal.

The words, heavy and poignant, hung in the air, screaming words that Dean couldn't say. Fuck, he wanted to say them. He really did. There just wasn't enough time. There was never enough damn time. And now . . .

In a span of minutes, he had all of Cas, and now he had none.

Dean's head bounced off the back of the wall, trying to focus on the physical pain instead of the emotional one killing him inside.

A noise then bubbled up, leaping out of his throat and rumbling around like a wounded animal.

"Fuck that," he finally said, two hours after Cas had been taken.

Wallowing never did any good. He glanced at his phone, curling his fingers into his palms. Half-moons cut deep into the flesh as he stared at it. Sam was still trying him.

He should answer. He knew he should. But he couldn't. He couldn't move from where he was, lost and unsteady.

Forcing air deep into his lungs, he tried to push himself up to his feet, stumbling slightly and falling back down. He grabbed the still vibrating phone then.

Sam . . .

Sam knew . . . knew better than anyone. Hell, it had happened to his brother with Eileen earlier. So, he knew this . . . this pain . . . . this . . . But if things had gone even more fucked than before . . . like Billie mentioned then . . . but . . . how would he tell his brother that they lost another person, that they lost . . . lost Cas?

He inhaled shakily, trying to calm himself and failing.

The confession was like a train wreck. Something he couldn't stop. Didn't want it too but at the same needed it too because he wasn't ready to hear the words. And then there they were, finally out in the open, bursting out of the subtext. And Cas was . . . was gone. Again.

His eyes closed, letting their memories flow through him.

That couldn't . . . that wasn't . . . no.

Chuck had said that this Cas was the only one, the only one, who didn't do as he was told after raising Dean from Hell.

Cas just revealed that Dean had changed him. That he loved him. Reiterated how Dean meant something more than being just a . . .

Dean forced more air in his burning lungs, shaking his head.

He laughed hollowly when he remembered the whole Big Win moment after getting Cas back this last time and the cowboy hats and the words.

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, his head falling back once more against the wall.

"Fucking hell," he choked through his sobs.

"Dean, you asked what about all this is real?" The deep voice rumbled in his mind. "We are."

"Not you. Not the one with a crack in his chassis," Chuck's voice snarled irritated.

"You're not in this story."

"Yeah? Well, we're making it up as we go."

Dean's ghostly smile grew as he felt his strength gradually.

"Let's go find that idiot and bring him home."

Letting his teeth rake over his bottom lip for a minute, tasting the salt of his tears, he huffed a quiet laugh and nodded. This wasn't how their story was going to fucking end. No fucking way. They had rewritten all of Chuck's endings before. They'd fucking do the same this time.

He glanced down at his phone, his tongue firmly pressed hard against his cheek as his phone started to vibrate again. This time . . . he answered.

"Sam . . ."

He tried—oh hell did he try—to keep the emotions, the heartbreak, from his voice.

"Dean?!"

"Sammy," he choked out, his voice cracking. He needed to be strong, but he was so damn tired of it. So damn tired of all of it.

"Dean!" his little brother shouted through the phone.

"Cas, he . . . he . . . "

He told me he loved me. That he didn't need me to reciprocate it—which I do . . . of course I do . . . but I couldn't . . . and then he was gone. Those words could get no higher than the back of his throat, caught inside as usual.

"We're on our way!" Sam's steady voice announced. "Dean, we're coming. Just hang on!"

Dean couldn't say anything back so he hung up, tossing his phone down again.

"Cas . . ." He closed his eyes, trying to push through the tears that were trying to silence him again. He bowed his head slightly, his voice shaking horribly as the tears fell harder. "Cas, I don't know . . . if . . ." He left off words, unable even to think about where his best friend was currently after once again giving everything for Dean, Cas's big win. "But if you . . . if you can hear . . . if this prayer . . . if it . . . I love you too. I . . . I'm sorry. Sorry I didn't . . . didn't get to say the words. But, of course I love you. You are the one thing I could . . . could always count on other than Sam. The one damn thing I knew would keep me . . . I'm coming, Cas. I don't know how yet. But I'm going to grip your ass this time . . . and . . . and I'm going to . . . raise you from perdition. So, you just . . . you hang on . . . just hang on . . . I'll be there soon, angel. My angel."