No sleep for Cas that night. Well, there's hardly a chance to snooze anyway since they need to be out and about by 2:30, but while Dean catches a few Zs, Cas just sits in bed beside him with the lamp on. His brain is buzzing, humming, fluttering with all sorts of painful thoughts. The dreams, first of all; he has constant premonitions that Dean is stepping in over his head. He hears a gunshot and he sees Dean on the floor, bleeding out.

No, no, Cas tells himself over and over. He's not thinking clearly, of course, but when he looks over and sees Dean sleeping so peacefully, he can't help but feel sad. The words Dean said earlier are in his thoughts, too. "If you didn't wanna live like this, why didn't you say no?"

Oh, sure, Cas can pretend. He can keep up the façade that he wasn't thinking and blindly followed Dean out of crazy young love or being misguided, but in the end it's impossible to avoid the truth. He didn't just fall in love with Dean, no…

They were deep in the woods above the hideout, far from civilization and anybody that could hear them. Uncle Bobby said it was safe if you went far enough. They had been living together for about a year at this point, and for the majority of that time Dean was the one acting alone to bring home money from "jobs."

"You ever fired a gun?" Dean asked. Cas shook his head. They stood before a downed tree lined with empty beer cans. "Well time to learn."

"But, why?"

"'Cause you just gotta know, man. I can't have you palling around with me if you can't defend yourself."

"Defend myself from what?"

Dean sighed real loud. Not even giving Cas an answer, he whipped a pistol out from his shabby jacket and put it in Cas' hands. "Hold it like this," he said, setting Cas' fingers delicately around the cold metal. Cas didn't take to it very well and Dean quickly got frustrated. "Come on, how hard is it?"

"It's uncomfortable," Cas bleated.

"Look, look. Just like this. Watch me, okay?"

He snatched the gun away one again and, like an expert marksman, held the gun out and fired a bullet straight through one of the cans. Cas retracted at the noise, instantly clapping his hands to his ears.

"You didn't even look!" Dean griped.

"I-I tried."

"Ugh. What am I gonna do with you?"

"I don't know," Cas said with a tired sigh.

"I'll find some kinda job for you," Dean groaned. "This one just ain't cutting it."

"Dean, I'm 14. How are 14 year olds supposed to know how to fire a gun?"

"I know."

"Yes, but you're…" Cas' voice faded away at once. He got red in the face and looked down.

"I'm what?" Dean asked.

Cas couldn't answer. But you're broken, he wanted to say. You've been broken and the pieces are everywhere.

"You're different," Cas said quickly.

"Yeah, but you like it."

Cas' cheeks turned even brighter now. He kicked at loose leaves on the ground, making a small rustling sound, and Dean came in closer to him. "Right? You like it?" He took a hand and held it under Cas' chin, trying to make the boy look up, but Cas resisted.

"I'm not sure," Cas admitted timidly. Finally he looked at Dean and their eyes locked instantly. Blue to green and green to blue.

Behind his freckled face, Dean smirked. "Yeah, you like it," he said. Cas swallowed a tight lump in his throat.

"I'm worried about you," said Cas.

"Huh? Why?" Dean's expression changed to surprised but his thumb remained on Cas' smooth chin.

"Is this how you plan to live your life?"

"Yeah, definitely. Is that wrong?"

"It is, yes. It is wrong, Dean."

Then Dean let off Cas' face entirely and backed away. He thinned his lips. "Nobody said you had to stay, man. If you don't like it you can just leave, alright?"

Cas stood his ground for a moment, just thinking. His fingers went to the hem of his jacket, Dean's jacket to be precise, and tugged along the seam.

"Well?" Dean asked, holding his arms out to the side. "You gonna side with me or run like a faggot?"

"Run like a faggot?" Cas asked in a low tone.

"Yeah, I dunno."

Just then, Cas smiled. He giggled softly to himself and then ran up to Dean. He ran straight into his arms and hugged him real tight. "I'm going to run like a faggot," he said happily. Dean, unsure of what to do, hugged him back. They hugged real tight.

"Uhh," Dean stuttered. "So uh, what does this mean?"

Muffled by denim, Cas said, "I'll stay."

"Good," said Dean.

Cas peeked up at him, lifted on his toes and planted a kiss straight on Dean's nose, followed by a smirk. Dean couldn't help but return the smile. He smiled the took Cas' cheeks in both of his hands, pulling the boy in for a proper first kiss. Their lips met and sparks flew.

When they pulled away, Cas looked at Dean and said, "I'll stay because I love you." But on the inside he was thinking, I'll stay because I can fix you.

And that's how the story always went. Cas so deeply in love with Dean. Cas cleaning up after Dean's messes. Cas doing all of the research and hard work for Dean's illegal schemes. Cas wanting to get married, but Dean always avoiding the subject.

Cas goes to the bathroom now and flicks on the light. He stares into the vanity and looks himself over. There are deep bags under his eyes, deeper than usual, and the blue globes above look positively grey. He runs a hand back through his hair and lets a long, low sigh leave his lips. This is the moment he realizes that his goal from day one hasn't worked out and it probably never will. Dean can't be fixed, he just broke Cas, too.

"Oh, Dean," Cas whispers to himself. He's terrified that this stupid job will destroy everything. He can't let Dean go through with it.

"Cas?" Dean's voice calls out, groggily, from the bed. Cas turns off the light in the bathroom and walks out.

"Sorry," says Cas.

"It's cool," Dean grunts, followed by a yawn he does nothing to prevent. "Why're you up?"

Cas comes to the bedside and sits down, touching Dean's legs through the covers with great delicacy. "I can't let you do this job," he says.

"'Course not," Dean smiles, crinkling the tired skin around his eyes. "We're doing it. Together."

"Um, no," says Cas. "I can't let either of us do this. It's entirely unsafe."

Suddenly Dean's expression fades. He frowns. He scowls, even. "This again?"

"Sorry, Dean. There are too many red flags."

Dean pulls the covers over his face and turns over away from Cas. "Then I'll do it alone."

"No!" Cas gasps. He starts shaking Dean's legs. "Don't! Dean! Please."

"Stop being a bitch!" Dean growls.

"Dean…"

"Sleep. One more hour. Then I'm going, okay?"

"Dean…"

"SLEEP!"

Dean says nothing else and Cas lays down beside him, plenty of room in between, once again getting no sleep.

The time comes and Dean gets up, gets dressed. He washes up in the bathroom and a groggy, unhappy Cas watches from the bed. He has the sheets up to his chin.

"You coming?" Dean asks, toothbrush in his mouth.

"No!" Cas gripes, shaking his head although Dean can't see.

"Bitch."

"Please don't call me a bitch. I'm watching out for you."

"Yeah well if I wanted an angel I'd pray for one, alright? Or just let you do the praying or whatever the fuck. You still do that?"

"Dean! Why are you so rude? And yes as a matter of fact, I do still pray."

Dean rolls his eyes. He comes out of the bathroom and starts to get dressed. "A lot of good that's doing, princess."

"Don't call me princess."

"Unf. Touchy." He lights a cigarette up and slides into his pants. Cas eyeballs him angrily. "So you're just gonna sit here and be a dick while I go and make the best fucking score of our entire career?"

Cas nods.

"Okay," says Dean. He buttons up a shirt and puts a leather jacket on. "Then adios, I guess."

Cas watches as Dean leaves. He sniffs real loud to himself, starting to cry. "Dean," he says softly, but Dean is already gone. He doesn't hear it at all.

So.

Fucking.

Helpless.

There has got to be something Cas can do. He can't possibly sit idly by as Dean goes out there facing God knows what.

So he acts.

He gets out of bed and goes to his planning room. The first thing he does is he takes the contact number that Crowley had given to them and calls it. The number has been disconnected. Oh, Cas thinks. That's a very good sign.

Next he looks up the bank that is being moved. That checks out alright; it is a real bank and everything that Crowley has said seems to be legitimate. But who is Crowley? They were never given a first name and even if it wouldn't be real. Cas really wracks his brain thinking this over. He wonders what Dean's "connections" were and why he didn't hear about them before. And then it hits him.

"It's a sting," Cas says aloud. He gets up from his chair, staring very seriously as his face turns pale. "He's a cop!"

There's no time to waste; Cas has to get to that bank as soon as possible. Is there a chance that Dean hasn't started yet? It's 3:12 so he likely won't make it, but he has to try. How will he get there? Dean has the car.

"Ah!" Cas sighs briskly. He has to take a fucking cab. If he wasn't so damned worried about Dean he might feel silly taking one, but there's a passion burning in his heart and he needs to do whatever he can save Dean. He throws on a tan trench coat, complete with a pistol on the inside, to cover himself up and dashes out of the hideout.

He'll go to jail, Cas keeps thinking, over and over. As he rides in the taxi downtown he keeps thinking that. His palms are sweating. He must seem so sketchy to the cab driver (as anybody at 3am would) but he simply doesn't care.

Cas still has to think intelligently so he tells the cabbie that he's going to the strip mall just a block from the bank. Even though time is of the essence, he still needs to be careful. He pays the driver then jumps out. In the parking lot that he faces he sees the Impala. Well, at least Dean was careful about that.

Cas can't stop to think or smile, so he flutters down the street towards the bank. The armored car is parked in front but he doesn't see anybody around it. It's only a matter of minutes before the police show up and Dean is probably inside. He first spots the shrubs that Crowley mentioned and quickly scans them, unsuccessfully, for any signs of Dean.

According to Crowley, the person associated with the armored car would leave the bank unattended as he brought the last empty palate back to the vehicle. It seems odd. Are there police officers inside the armored car? Even so, where is the guy driving it?

Cas squats in the bushes and observes for a moment. It's well past the time for them to get the show on the road. Dean must already be inside, but why is the armored car empty? He expects patrol cars to show up, but a minute flies by and nothing happens. Normally the police would be there already.

It doesn't matter, though. Cas knows Dean is inside and maybe something is wrong. Well, something is definitely wrong. He needs to find out. This is a risk worth taking.

With his hand against his coat, holding the gun on the inside, he flees the bushes and swoops over to the side of the building. Inch by inch but by no means slowly, he slides around the wall and scoots to the entrance. The glass windows show an empty bank lobby. There are no signs of life within.

Heart beating with such intense vigor and adrenaline fueled by his love for Dean, Cas makes a move for it and tries the door. It's open. It gives way with ease and Cas just goes right inside. His feet step over the carpet silently and he can almost hear his breathing since it's so quiet inside. No voices, no movement. He wonders what's going on. For a brief, daunting moment he thinks Dean has betrayed him and the entire set up was a plot to get him hurt. That option is easily dismissed.

He takes a few more steps inside the bank, looking over his shoulder from time to time at the armored car. Still no sign of anybody anywhere. He walks around a glass cubicle wall, ultimately making his way to the back where the vaults will likely be. When he goes around one cream colored wall he suddenly sees a great row of safes. In the middle of the room is a couple of briefcases. And Dean. "Cas?" He calls out. "You came?"

"Yes," says Cas. He's so relieved to see Dean alright, but time is of the essence. "We need to leave, he says."

"Why?"

"This is a set up," Cas explains quickly. "Crowley is an undercover cop working to expose us. He must know who we are. There is nobody in that armored car. Dean, please." Cas walks up to Dean with great urgency and takes his arm, but Dean remains.

"That's stupid," he says. "There was a guy earlier."

"No, no, Dean. PLEASE!" Cas yells. His face turns red with upset. "Dean! We have to GO!"

"Let's just get this loot out of here and then we'll go with it, how about that?" Dean suggests with the usual smirk. He slides a briefcase over to Cas then takes two and starts to walk away.

"This is it?" Cas asks. "Three briefcases?"

"Babe, you realize how much scratch is in them?" Dean keeps walking and Cas has no choice but to follow. "Come on, let's just go. We're good. We've got it and we're fine."

"But, Dean! No…listen. Leave the money, there might be GPS in them."

Dean rolls his eyes. "It's not a police sting," he reassures Cas, looking back. but the dark haired man has fallen behind. He drops the briefcase with a loud bang and Dean scrunches up his forehead, still walking forward. "What?"

"Bravo," another voice says, followed by slow applause. Dean turns forward again and sees Crowley standing there.

"Oh," Dean gasps slightly. "Thought you wouldn't be here?"

"Why bravo?" Cas asks, his voice sharp as a razor.

"Because," Crowley begins. He smiles wickedly. "Because Dean here is a fairly intelligent specimen. Police sting? Oh, no. I'm no piggy."

"Then what?" Cas inquires with a glare so evil that it would scare anybody.

"Well, I'm just trying to make a quick buck."

"Yeah, a third or whatever we said," Dean nods. "Lemme just take the scratch to the car."

Dean starts walking but Crowley shakes his head. "I don't think so," he says. "Just leave the cash with me."

"Fuck no?" Dean grumps. "We got it for you. That was our deal."

Crowley laughs, almost giddy-like, and slowly brandishes a shiny revolver from his pocket. He holds it out to Dean and clicks his tongue. "Like I said. Just leave the cash with me."

"Oh yeah, like your little toys scare me," Dean says in a very arrogant display of disapproval. Still grasping the stash firmly with both hands, he keeps walking right past Crowley, but the sinister man stops him with the barrel of the gun right against his chest.

"Ah-ah," Crowley says. "Money goes to Daddy, and he certainly isn't afraid to put a few bullets in you."

Before Dean can throw a snappy, dangerous retort, Cas springs up in front of them and holds his briefcase out. "Take the money," he growls. "Leave Dean alone."

"Mm, I like you," says Crowley. He motions to Dean's hands with his chin. "But I'm afraid I need all three, darling."

Dean just glares.

"Dean, please. It's not worth it."

"Yeah, try me," Dean scoffs.

"Very well," says Crowley. "Last chance. Leave me the money or I'll fire a round."

Dean looks at his chest, the gun pressed against it. He narrows his eyes, inhales sharply then stares Crowley directly in the eyes. "You wouldn't. Cas got guns on him I'm sure, he'll blow your brains out if you touch me."

"Ahh, sorry. I'll count that as blowing that chance." Crowley grins. In an instant, he moves the gun away from Dean's body, aims it at Cas and fires a bullet.

POW

The shot rings out into the empty room like an atomic bomb taking out the entire world. Dean drops the briefcases instantly and darts to Cas, who has collapsed on the floor. He's bleeding out. Quickly.

"Works every time," Crowley hums happily to himself. He manages to juggle all three of the briefcases, smirks at Dean, then goes to leave the bank with a soft "Ta-taa!"

But of course Dean doesn't even notice this. The money means nothing now. He holds Cas in his arms and watches the blood slowly engorge his clothes.

"No, no, no," Dean mutters quickly, panicking. "Baby, no, no!"

"Dean…"

"Cas, no! You can't. Please. I-I'm sorry."

"Dean…"

"Baby, you can't. You can't. I need you…I love you…"

"Dean…"

Dean kisses Cas' twitching lips over and over. "Cas, princess, no, no baby no."

His desperate pleas are useless. The life is quickly running out of his partner. "Please, God…"

"Dean…" Cas' voice is even quieter now. He tries to reach out to touch Dean but he is too weak. "Dean…"

Dean takes Cas' hand and entwines his fingers. He's shaking so much around the pale, cold hand. It rattles them both.

"Baby, no, come back to me."

"Dean…"

"Baby, please."

Tears fall down onto the trench coat and Dean's voice falls into a raspy, desperate whisper. "Baby, no…I love you so much…don't leave me."

A smile manages to creep across Cas' lips. "I love you, too," he mutters. His eyelids widen and start to relax. He stares into nothingness. "I'm sorry—I couldn't—fix you."

Dean squeezes the fingers so tight and hugs Cas close. The blood seeps out onto Dean's clothes as he comes in closer. "Cas," Dean whispers. "I'm sorry I didn't listen."

"It's okay," Cas coughs. "I still love you."

The body lightens. Dean can tell. He knows. It's over. It's all over. He whispers "I love you, too," to nobody. His fingers let go and he lays Cas back down on the floor. He lets his hand run across the coat and he feels the gun he brought. Why didn't Dean bring a gun? That was the stupidest thing he had…well, no. It wasn't. Not listening to Cas was the stupidest thing he had ever done. The entire time. He should have listened to Cas earlier. He should have listened to him about everything.

Dean takes the pistol from Cas' pocket and looks it over. He shakes his head slowly, smiling at how dumb the world is. A thin line of tongue runs between his lips and can't help but laugh.

"Fuck the world," he says. "I just want Cas."

He cocks the gun holds it to his temple. One final blast, filling the empty room, and he's free.

Two old shoes walk down the aisle between many musty, crowded rows of seats. People sneeze and cough incessantly, chatting amongst themselves and shifting uncomfortably as the train trudges on its path. The shoes finally see an empty seat up ahead. They approach cautiously and turn to the person who sits against the window.

"Is this…"

"Hello, Dean."

Dean smiles when he sees Cas sitting there. He joins him. "Hey," he says, relieved. "Where are we, man?"

"I'm not sure," Cas admits. He looks to Dean finally and also smiles.

"What just happened?" Dean asks, touching his own temple. "I've got a motherfucker of a headache."

"I'm still not sure," says Cas. He holds his hand out and gropes for Dean's. Their fingers lock.

"Where are we going?" Dean asks.

"I don't know, puppy."

"Ah, fuck. This is messed up. I don't remember anything."

But as he says those words, it all comes back. Everything. The bank, the money, the set up, Crowley, the two gunshots.

"Oh my God," Dean says, immediately doubled over in grief. He hugs Cas and starts to cry. "Ohh, oh God, baby. I-I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Dean," Cas hums. He hugs Dean back and kisses him on the temple. "I forgive you."

"Fuck," Dean whines. "If I knew it was gonna end like this, I would've married you."

"It's alright. Really."

Dean moves back and looks Cas in the eyes. Big tears pour out from between the lids and Cas cries a little, too. "So where are we going?" Dean asks, sniffing. He takes both of Cas' hands in his. He looks down and sees wedding bands but doesn't even bother asking what that's all about. Everything is so confusing it's not worth it.

"I said I'm not sure," Cas reiterates. He kisses Dean softly on the lips and smiles, blushing. "But I think it's better. It's better and it's still with you."

Dean nods. "Alright," he says. "I can deal with that."

They sit back in their seats and the train keeps going along the track. It rumbles and rattles, passing scenery until the windows are all just white. Dean inhales deep and smiles. It feels happy all over. Cas puts his head against his shoulder and starts laughing. Laughing like he did when he was a teenager. And they are teenagers again suddenly. They're young and in love and everything is perfect. Dean shakes his head and laughs. "Fuck the world."

the end

[I'm so sorry]