Dean woke up with a sick, heavy feeling in his gut, like someone had dropped a weight inside of him. Something was horribly wrong. He looked around, trying to grasp his surroundings. Motel with ugly-ass wall paper, an old clock reading 5:34am. Sam was pushed up against him, curled into Dean as if he was using Dean as a shield.

Dean felt something empty inside him, a toy you know you've forgotten but can't do anything about feeling. It felt like when he had lost his father only more intense, different somehow. He blinked around confusedly, trying to pinpoint exactly what it was. Then, like the weight of the Mark of Cain, it hit him. Dean felt a scream building in his throat but he bit it back. "Sammy," he whispered, tears beginning to race down his face in earnest. "Sammy!"

Sam shot up, his hair sticking up in all directions like windblown grass. "Dean? What is it?"

Dean shook his head, tears rose in his throat, choking him. He buried his face in his arms. "Cas," he whispered. "It's Cas."

Sam's eyes were wide and alert now. "Did he pray to you again?"

Dean shook his head.

"Nightmare?"

Another shake.

"What?"

Dean stumbled over the words. "I felt it...Sammy, he's..." Dean couldn't form the rest of the sentence but he didn't have to- understanding bloomed across Sam's face.

"Oh, oh God." Sam blinked quickly, turning his head away to swipe a hand across his eyes. "Oh God, Dean I'm so, so sorry. But how do you know?" he asked, his voice calm and soft. "Maybe he's still-"

"He's not," Dean whispered. "As much as I desperately want to believe he is, I know he's not."

Sam looked sick. "Oh God, Cas, no, no."

"No, no." Dean buried his face in his calloused hands. "No. I...I can't..."

Sam was utterly helpless. Dean was in pain, crying because of the one person he would even consider putting above Sam was dead. And he had died alone and, if it was Amara, most defiantly painfully. Sam wanted to hug Dean and tell him it was alright but the disbelief and pain brought him back to a time years ago when Jess and died. He knew there was nothing that could lessen it.

Dean stood up, swinging his legs out of the bed. His eyes burned with a vengeance brighter than Michael's sword. "I'm leaving," he said softly, pulling on his jacket. "Stay here."

"What?" Sam asked.

"I'm finding Amara," he replied. "And I'm kicking her ass. Then I'll kill everything out there that had a hand in this." His pain and grief has morphed into blind rage, he was seeing red.

"Dean!" Sam hurried to stand up and grabbed Dean's shoulder. "Look at me. No, this is what dad did. He destroyed himself for something that was beyond his control. Dean, it's hard but Cas is dead! He's not coming back and running out there with no plan, no backup, in the early morning after you had been completely drained, it's a suicide mission! You have a zero percent chance of getting out of this!"

Dean whipped around. "I don't care!" he snapped. "Yeah, I'll die but, you know what, I'm done! I don't care anymore! He's dead Sam, I can't even begin to say how much I cared about him, and he's gone! It doesn't matter if I die because I don't have anything left!"

Sam recoiled is if burned. "You have me," he said, hurt clear in his wide, sad eyes.

"Shit, no. I...I don't know anymore. I know I have you and I always will but I just...Cas is different, was different."

"Hey," Sam whispered. "Sit down. Listen to me, I lost Jess and even all these years later I remember all of it and every detail, every feeling of her. I still dream about her sometimes. Do you know why? Because I loved her. It wasn't like those chicks you date for a month and then dump, I love Jessica. Still. And you love Cas and you will for years to come. It's gonna hurt like all of hell and worse most of the time until you accept it. Take it from me, exacting revenge won't do anything. We watched the thirst for revenge drive dad into near instantly, you watched it almost destroy me, you should know." He rubbed his eyes. "But we need Amara dead so, when the time comes, you can kill her. I won't stop you."

Dean looked up from the floor at which he had been staring at for the past few minutes. "We need to tell Gabriel," he whispered. "He deserves to know. Also Sam, spit it out, you're practically choking on a question."

"You won't like it."

"I don't like anything right now." Dean pressed a hand to his chest as if it would plug up the hole he felt. "Go right ahead."

"What did it feel like?" Sam asked hesitantly. "I'm sorry, don't answer that."

Dean paused. "When Cas...?"

"Yeah."

"It felt like...like this great big hole in my chest, you know, like when you know you're missing something but you don't know what. And I felt it spread through my body and I started to realize and I tried to pray but it was gone. Our bond or whatever, just disappeared. And I knew." Dean closed his eyes, letting grief wash over him. He was drowning in his sorrow, his horror and disbelief. Sure, he had lost Cas before but this was so final, so closing. He didn't know what to do. Cas had died alone, maybe Lucifer as there, and suddenly he felt all the pain he was sure Lucifer felt at least some variation of.

The pain of loosing a little brother.

Sam's arms wrapped around him and Dean didn't protest, burying his face in Sam's shoulder. "It's gonna be okay," Sam soothed. "You're gonna be okay."

Dean gripped Sam tighter. "I never told him," he choked. "I wanted to tell him. He needed to know."

"I know," Sam said. "You love him and he died and that's one of the worst types of pain there is. I'm so sorry."

"Call Gabe," Dean said, pulling away but keeping a hand on Sam's arm and gripping tightly as if his brother was the only thing keeping him sane. "He needs to know, Sam."

"We can call him later. If you want to be in any state to fight Amara you need sleep."

"Call him." Deans voice was hard and steady.

"Why? Why now?"

Dean swallowed. "Because if you died I'd want to know immediately, not 'in the morning', not 'after you rest' not 'later'. Sammy I swear if you don't call him..."

Sam sighed and pulled out him phone, knowing Dean was right. He tapped the screen several times before raising it to his ear. "Hey Gabe."

"Sam? Why so early?"

Sam stumbled over his words as he body threatened to cry. "It's about Cas."

You could practically hear Gabriel freeze. "What about him?" he said, voice dangerous.

"Dean would prefer to tell you. In person," Sam said, glancing at Dean who nodded. "We are at a roadside inn called Granny's house. Cedar Rapids, room 23."

The phone call ended and within seconds Gabriel, looking flustered and scared, appeared. "My brother?" he asked. "What about him?" He looked around, seeing Sam with an arm wrapped around Dean who wore a tear stained mask of pain. "No..." he whispered, his legs failing him as he understood. "Oh no. When?"

"Fifteen minutes," Dean said softly.

"How can be you be sure?" Gabe asked, clinging on to a desperate hope.

Dean pressed on his chest. "I can feel it. It's like a great hole in my heart, in my head. It's where our bond was. I...Gabriel I am so sorry."

"Is Lucifer...?" He could bring himself to say 'dead'.

"I don't know. But Cas...oh God, I can't believe it. I never got to tell him..."Dean wasn't even sure if he was thinking the words or saying them, the world had muddled into a blob of noises and sounds and pain.

Gabriel stared at Dean with an expression of profound realization. "You loved him," he whispered. "The Righteous Man in love with an Angel of the Lord. You were in love with my brother."

Dean nodded. "What do you want me to say? I am."

Sam glanced between the two. "Listen, Crowley's transporting us to the hospital where Amara and Lucifer are. He arrives at seven sharp. Are you staying Gabe?"

"Am I going to miss the chance to kick Amara's ass? In your dreams! I'm going to kill her for what she did to Cassie." His voice broke on the last word. "Who gets to kill her?" Sam was surprised the Archangel didn't protest on working with the king of Hell.

"Me," Dean said quickly.

Gabriel looked unhappy at this arrangement but nodded. "Of course."

"Good," Sam said, clapping his hands together. "Dean, rest." He pointed towards the beds. "If your gonna kill her, you'd better sleep first. No use if you're half dead before we even get out there."

"No," Dean replied. "I doubt I could even if I tried." He rubbed the bridge of his nose and wished he could do something to fill the emptiness inside of him.

"Dean," Sam said sternly. "Rest."

Dean opened his mouth to protest again but Gabriel was in front of him, quick as a flash, with two fingers to his forehead. Dean collapsed and Sam moved to grab him and set him on the bed. "Thanks," he said, pulling a blanket around Dean's prone form.

"No problem," Gabriel replied. "Now I can do the same to you. You'll wake up at six forty five sharp, enough time to get out and be ready for Crowley. I'll be there too."

"Thanks," Sam said graciously. He settled down next to Dean and said in response to Gabriel's raised eyebrow, "I can't let him wake up alone, not after...God Gabe, I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"If we had made him feel worth saving..."

"Sam, listen, I'm not mad at you or Dean. Hell, I don't know if I'm even mad at Amara right now. I'm just tired. You couldn't have known."

"Thanks. Really, it means a lot." Sam smiled tiredly and Gabe put two fingers to his forehead, allowing him to sink away from the pain of loosing Cas.

Gabriel smiled down at the brothers, sleeping next to each other. Even in sleep Dean's forehead was creased and there were stark bags under Sam's eyes. "Sleep," he whispered. "And may both of you survive what tomorrow brings."

He zapped outside, feeling the cold wind whip against his face. "How could you?" he called into the night. "Father! We loved you! Castiel was a good Angel, he loved Humanity to the point where he fell for it in every way possible! He loved a human, Dean Winchester! You monster, you sadistic creature!" His voice rose, tearing his throat as he screamed the words up to the Heavens. "Cas followed your order to love man-kind! He loved it more than you, he did more for it that you!" Gabriel fell to his knees, feeling the vessels skin split on the sharp stones but he didn't care.

If anyone were to look out the window just then, they would see a man collapsed on the ground, his head thrust back to look at the dark night sky, his body heaving with silent sobs of complete and utter anguish. But nobody stirred that night in the Inn, nobody saw the weeping Angel rise to his feet and scream loud and long to a Father who could not hear him.

AN: this is one of the top saddest chapters to write. Sorry guys