Author's Note: So wow this chapter is going to be so unbelievably long. Er, sorry? Anyhoo, thank you so much for the love and support for this story. I don't deserve you.

Balthazar finds Gabriel as soon as he leaves Heaven. He's watching over Dean Winchester, like he'd suspected he would be.

"He's still praying to him," he begins in greeting before his feet even touch the roof.

Gabriel sucks around a hard piece of candy without taking his eyes off the house. "I know."

"And Cassie's beginning to talk about falling."

"I know."

"Well don't just sit there so damn calmly, Gabriel!"

"How would you like me to sit?"

Balthazar kicks a small branch off the roof and rubs his temples. "Why can't he just leave him alone?"

"Once you get touched by an angel…" Gabriel snarks but without any of the amusement the remark should carry.

"You do realize he's going to break eventually. That five o' clock shadow on bow-legs is going to lure our brother right off his cloud."

Gabriel doesn't answer him. He continues to stare ahead, slouching, with folded arms resting on his knees.

"Maybe…Just thinking out loud here, but if the prayers stopped tempting him..." When his brother doesn't flinch, Balthazar adds. "If Dean were to die…"

Balthazar tilts his head back and forth considering out loud. "Hunters die all the time. It is after all a very hazardous line of work." Shrugging gracefully, he finishes, "Perhaps then he could finally move on and stop holding a torch for this one."

Sighing, Gabriel stretches out his legs and agrees, "Hunters do die all the time."

Balthazar glances at the house considering a long minute then back at Gabriel who holds his gaze steadily now. After a moment, he puffs out a defeated breath. "Oh hell, I don't think I can kill the little bastard anymore."

"Yep, I know."

"Ughh!" Batlhazar drops to perch next to Gabriel and rests his forehead on the heels of his hands.

"You think I haven't thought about it every night I'm up here?"

"Well that's wonderful. What are we going to do about Cassie then? We can't just let him-"

"There is no let." Gabriel shakes his head and glares at the dark house where Dean's asleep, sucking harder on the candy in his cheek. "Freewill's a bitch, Bro."

Dean prays. Still. Without anything from Cas since he was carried off by Gabriel that night… still he prays. Sometimes it's just like he's thinking out loud. Like he's just sending thoughts out into the void and it helps clear his head. About his day, about Sam, about random memories of different hunts. About questions he has but never asked. Why are his wings black? Would Dean's dad be in Heaven? Where is Heaven? What's it like? What does an angel do up there? Where's Hell? Did he ever try pie?

It's Dean's end of the night ritual along with the occasional jerk off. He's lonely and where usually he would just go find someone warm and willing to help lessen it for a while, now he can't bring himself to go back to bar fishing. Not yet. Eventually his heart will catch up with his brain and realize Cas is gone but until then he takes the problem in hand.

He always starts with flashes of what they'd done. Dean closes his eyes tight and Cas is holding his hips in place while he bucks forward or losing his control for an instant and scratching then it morphs into different scenarios of all the stuff they never got a chance to do. Him straddling Cas, lowering onto him while holding his wrists down or maybe even Dean on his knees. It makes him flush in embarrassment and anxiety but that's pushed aside by arousal at the thought of how Cas would make those deep noises in the back of his throat while looking down at him. And maybe put a hand on the back of his neck and groan so fucking loud and-

He wishes he was stronger. Wishes the pain and emotional shit was enough to make him not want to think about it, but he hasn't had sex in months. And his body isn't numb enough not to want it again. Not to want Cas again. Once or twice when his eyes were squeezed shut and breath hitching, he wasn't sure if he didn't think Cas' name and shove some obscene image at him. After a while he doesn't care.

He's getting sloppy. He feels it. It takes more and more of the bottle after those nights to find sleep. After the good feelings fade and he's left alone missing someone it's fucking ridiculous to miss, self-loathing rushes in and he feels like complete shit. The morning afters are getting less fun for everyone so he tries to stay out of sight in the den until he's out the door and headed on to the next case.

After another month of radio silence, he's hunched over a tabloid story of a man being eaten by his cocker spaniel when Ellen snatches the paper out of his hand.

"Hey!"

She tosses it on the coffee table and crosses the room. "Get up."

Dean shields his face when she parts the curtains to let the blaring sun in.

"Damnit, I am up!"

He leans back into the couch as she stands in front of him with hands on her hips. "No, you're nursin' a hangover. Again."

"C'mon, leave it alone, Ellen," he groans.

"I won't. This is my house and you're gonna listen. Now, I know you've had it a hell of a lot harder than most kids your age-"

"I'm not a freaking kid for Christ's sake!" Dean yells, shooting to his feet.

"Sit. Down."

Dean rubs his face, trying to stave off the headache at the quick movement. "You just told me to get up."

Ellen gives him a stern look and he drops back down. She sits next to him and sighs. "You can't keep this up."

Dean looks at his feet. Maybe he'd throw up. It wasn't the worst way to get out of this conversation.

"I'm not one to speak ill of the dead…" Dean tenses up as Ellen continues, "But you're a better man than your daddy."

He clenches and unclenches his fist to distract himself from the pain of thinking of his dad. And now what she was implying. Sitting here, drinking away the pain. Pushing everyone away. It was apparently the way the Winchester men coped.

"Talking out your problems don't seem to be your strong suit but I want you to give it a try."

"What do you want me to say? Dad's dead. I still have to track down the thing that did it."

"Dean, you don't have to take up your father's obsession."

"Yeah I kinda do."

"You know we love you, boy. I hate to see you drinking yourself stupid every night like you're workin' up to goin' over the cliff."

Dean doesn't look at her, just hunches his shoulders. After a moment of him not filling the silence she exhales harshly out her nose. "So what's the other reason you're drinking?"

"I need another one?"

"I've seen enough drunks to tell when you're drinking away a person."

"Yeah well there's no one."

Ellen tilts her head trying to catch his eyes. "You sure?"

Dean sucks in a breath and runs a hand down his face. "Look, I know Jo said something about me and… someone, but it was nothing. He's gone."

Ellen doesn't gasp or tense in shock at his use of pronouns. Jo obviously told her it was a guy. Instead she seems natural when she gently asks, "Did you love him?"

"What?" he blinks at her.

"It's not a hard question."

"Uh.."

Actually it was. His brain scrambles as he stares off just over her shoulder, thinking of it. Did he love Cas? He's not even sure what that means. Yeah, he missed Cas. He hurt from missing him so much but was that love? He'd felt… well he felt whole with Cas. During the big fight, when he thought about them afterwards, it was together. They'd have time to get to know each other completely. More than all the fun parts on the outside. As sappy as it sounded in his head, Dean wanted him to know everything inside too. All the ugly stuff with the good. Wanted him to maybe even meet Sam one day. Dean's lips are drawn up in a soft smile thinking about Cas tracing his scars while he slept. And that'd been a miracle on its own. He let himself become vulnerable enough to sleep with someone else there.

Cas had been the only one Dean had ever truly wanted. Anyone else- everyone else- had merely been something to enjoy and move on. Cas had made him want more.

"That's what I thought." Ellen swats his leg. "So go get him."

"It's uh, it's not that easy." He shakes himself out of his memories. "I don't even know where he is."

"You're a Hunter ain't ya? You're telling me you can't track down one ex-boyfriend?"

Dean frowns at her, actually thinking about it. She pats his knee. "Now go get a shower before I take you out back and spray you down with a hose."

Even though he'd had his eyes shut tight for half the journey with Cas, Dean still filed away details. It was something he could never turn off. His dad had burned into his brain early on to always be collecting data in case he needed it for later. It could save his life.

Picking out landmarks he'd spotted along the way and taking into consideration roughly the speed Cas was flying and beginning from that hotel as a starting point… he's able to find the spot in a little over two days.

Dean pulls up the Impala on the outskirts of a wide open field in Enid, Oklahoma. It was about a twenty minute drive from the nearest town. It'd taken him over half the day of driving around a bunch of similar grassy fields before he found the right one. What he thinks might be the right one. He's pretty sure anyway. Only one way to find out.

Dean walks far into it, remembering him and Cas were about here. He covered Dean's eyes, whispered words in that gravelly voice.

"Cas?!" He calls out, spinning slowly without seeing a change in the field. A treehouse full of angels doesn't magically pop into view.

Dean wedges his hands in his pockets while he thinks of what else to do. He shuts his eyes, trying to remember Cas' words last time he was here.

Focus on forming a picture in your mind.

Taking a deep breath, he clears his thoughts.

Now when you turn around, you will see a large tree…

His face scrunches up, trying to remember the rest. Something about it being thick with a lot of branches.. then.. oh yeah, then the next part was about how the tree sorta looked like the one him and Cas got sweaty against when he was a teen.

Dean concentrates picturing that tree, furrowing his brow and turns around. When he opens his eyes, he jerks back, hand falling instantly to the hilt of his knife because there's a small woman standing about five feet away watching him with her head cocked to one side. She has long dark hair pinned back from her face, blue eyes, with a twitchy noise coming from behind her fitted beige pants and white blouse. Wings. She had wings!

"Why are you here?"

Dean swallows and straightens up, dropping his hands to his sides. "I, um.. Cas- I mean Castiel." It's all he can think to say. Her eyes darken with recognition.

"You are Castiel's human."

"Well, I'm Dean. I uh-"

She reaches for a blade, silvery and clanging in warning. He throws up a defensive hand while reaching for his own knife again. "Whoa whoa."

"You are responsible for his banishment to Heaven. How dare you return-"

"Hael."

Gabriel suddenly appears behind her, fingers wrapping around her shoulders. "Retract the claws there, kitten."

"But he is-"

"And I'll handle it."

Pursing her lips, she continues to keep him in her sights as she takes a few steps back. "I will have to inform Michael of his presence here."

"You go do that, Cupcake."

Dean raises both his eyebrows and slides his knife home before turning back to the angel in front of him. Gabriel looks him up and down before shrugging. "Sorry, she's a little high-strung."

"Do I gotta worry about you too?"

"Nah, I've put aside the idea of killing you- well I wouldn't say a long time ago but let's just say you're safe. From me at least. Not the smartest idea to come a house callin' though."

"What else was I supposed to do? You and Balthazar never answer. Cas… what the hell happened to him? That Halley chick-"

"Hael"

"Yeah, well she said it was my fault he got banished?"

Gabriel smiles tightly and glances back at the now visible tree. "Look, officially I'm really not supposed to be talking to you."

"Well do something unofficial, goddamnit! I can't take this, man. I gotta know if he's okay."

"He's okay," Gabriel says immediately with a hardness to his tone now.

"Okay?"

"Dean-o. Buddy." Gabriel takes a threatening step forward. "You really need to get outta here."

"I'm not going anywhere until I see him."

"First you said you wanted to know he's okay. Now you want to see him."

"Yeah, I'm greedy like that."

"Hmm, I was going to call it selfish." Gabriel scrunches up his face, faking remorse.

With great effort, Dean closes his eyes in an attempt to keep his voice calm. "I didn't come here to fight with you."

"Look, you had some fun together… rekindled a little childhood romance, kinda died once or twice, fought through an old fashioned demon brawl and got the t-shirt. Now it's time to grow up, kiddo. Did you really imagine this having a happy ending?"

"I want to see him," Dean repeats.

"Well you can't!" Gabriel yells in his face and shoves him about six feet into the air so he lands hard on his ass.

Coughing, Dean turns on his side and slowly gets to his feet while keeping an eye on the suddenly dangerous angel. He's the one with closed eyes now and muttering.

"What-" Dean spits blood from where he bit his lip when he landed. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm counting to ten so I don't kill you."

Sucking in a breath, Dean brushes dirt off his sleeve. "Well take your time then."

He doesn't go for a weapon like every instinct telling him to. If Gabriel really wanted to go after him, he didn't have anything strong enough to make even a dent.

Finally the angel breathes out through his nose.

"So where's-"

Dean's stopped by Gabriel's index finger to indicate one minute while he rummages in the pocket of his pants for something. Untwisting a wrapper, he pops what looks like a Werther's Original in his mouth and sighs through his nose with his eyes squeezed tight. Then he stows it in his cheek before speaking. "Michael wasn't lying. You're not gonna see him again. He's under house arrest."

"But he didn't do anything wrong! Uriel was kicking the shit outta him. He would of freakin' killed him after he took me out. Don't you people have any rules about that?!"

"I'm not going to sit here and try to debate all the ways this is screwed to Sunday. Point is, it's done."

"Well let me talk the head honchos. I'll explain it."

Gabriel full on belly laughs, holding his sides and spits out his candy. Then he looks up at Dean's stony face. "Wait, you're serious?"

Dean looks up at the clear sky and around at the empty field. Finally he shrugs and folds his arms. "Tell whoever's up there that I'm not leaving until I see him. So they can either come down and have a pow wow or send him instead."

"Really? That's your plan." Gabriel rolls his eyes and smiles once more in indulgence before just walking away. Over his shoulder he calls, "Well have fun. It'll be a long wait."

After several hours when the sun sinks and there's no activity from the angel's treehouse, Dean walks back to the car. He flips the collar of his dad's leather jacket up and tucks it tighter around him against the chilling air. Folding his arms, he rests his head back on the seat.

So I saw Gabriel. Dude seemed pissed. Think I ruffled his feathers. And I met uh Hill? Hael? Yeah, she was real friendly. Don't think they like visitors much.

Dean thumbs his sore lip. Maybe they'd send another angel out here to finish him off once and for all. This was a little crazy, trying to get the attention of angels to make demands. What if they just moved their little base camp without him knowing and there'd go his last lead. Fuck, this was a stupid idea.

I don't know what I'm doing, Cas. But I had to do something. Are you really stuck up there because of me?

He watches the silhouette of the tree in shadow now and remembers another tree so long ago when him and his angel were pressed tight against hard bark.

Well you can't just accept that. Don't give up. There's gotta be a way. As much as we've been through- there's gotta be something, man.

Stubbornness alone is keeping him going. Even knowing the next angel that shows could wipe him out, he wouldn't just let Cas go. Not yet.

It feels like he barely closes his eyes when Dean blinks slowly and turns to his right to see a woman sitting with one leg crossed at the knee next to him in the passenger seat. Her light brown hair is tucked behind her head in a tight bun and she dressed as if she's ready to go off to work downtown in an office. Guess it didn't take that long to get their attention after all.

"Not my usual spank bank material," he jokes to cover his anxiety. He hated this dream shit they pulled and it was claustrophobic to be trapped in the front seat with one of them even if it wasn't real.

She smiles tightly. "We haven't been introduced. My name is Naomi."

"Wow an angel with a normal name. Must be why you're a big wig."

"Why are you here, Mr. Winchester?"

"For Cas. If he's in trouble 'cause he took out that asshat, Uriel, you gotta know he was getting beat to within an inch of his life. It was self-defense."

"We know all about Uriel's collusion with the demons. Why does this concern you exactly?"

Oh. He hadn't really known he'd switched sides. He'd just kinda assumed Uriel went batshit. Mentally changing gears Dean says, "Okay… so Cas did you a favor, right? Why's he on lockdown? I wanna see him."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

Dean wedges his eyebrows together and glares at her. "Why not?"

Taking a moment to evaluate him, she seems to be considering whether to answer. Eventually she answers, "Not that I need to tell you any of this, but I believe we can be of help to each other."

"Doubt that."

"You see its Castiel that has decided it's best if he remained in Heaven. There is no 'lockdown' as you put it."

"You mean you guys decided. He wouldn't have left like that on his own and never come back. You're punishing him because of me."

"Punishing him? I am merely helping him re-adjust to his role. I admit at first he fought me, but now he understands how his relationship with you has been detrimental to his growth as an angel." Naomi looks out the windshield at the dark sky and casually says, "I understand you were… close but Castiel needs to be with his family now." When she turns back her voice is firm and she finishes, "You need to let him go. Stop praying to him. I would appeal to your concern for his well-being."

"Well-being," he laughs out once in disbelief. "Why the hell do you guys care about us? What's it matter to you what him and me do?"

"You are dangerous."

Dean gives her an offended look. "I'd never hurt him."

"But you make him forget his pragmatism. You cloud his judgment."

"You're all so scared because I make him feel something besides blind duty. There's nothing wrong with that."

"It is a gateway to doubt."

"Maybe he should do a little doubting. He's more than a soldier, lady."

"Doubt usually leads to... disgrace." It's obvious the word means something particular to her.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

She exhales angrily through her nose, showing a crack in her cool exterior. "I know you are waiting for him to return to you and I admire your faith, I do… but I'm afraid Castiel has made his choice. Leave now."

Dean tilts his head and squints at her. She frowns under the scrutiny.

"Nope." He shifts back against the seat and stretches out again like he was when he went to sleep.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll wait to hear it from him."

"That will not happen. As I've said, repeatedly…"

Dean closes his eyes with his arms folded, blatantly shutting her out. "Yeah, you can leave now."

His heartbeat thuds in his throat, waiting for an attack or something. He was banking on it being against some rule for angels just to smite him on a whim. Regardless, he wasn't budging. They were going to have to drag him away because this was all he knew to do. He couldn't go after Cas. There was nothing to shoot. Nothing to torture. All he could do was be a pain in the ass and hope.

A sharp squawk from a bird overhead wakes him up with a jolt. Looking around quickly, he doesn't see her. He's alone. Dean slowly closes his eyes again against the morning light, feeling just a fraction better. He was almost positive now this was out of Cas' control. Without stopping to think about his words or pausing to edit them, Dean starts. Quick and breathless.

Cas…I know they're keeping you away. That uptight chick tried to say- doesn't matter. They can send every angel they got… unless you tell me to fuck off, I'm gonna still pray. Still hope. Man, come back to me.

He almost stops it there but adds one last thing.

I need you.

"Insolent… Abrasive…"

Castiel smiles to himself and ducks his head as Naomi paces in front of him. He'd heard the prayer from Dean so he knew very well who she was muttering about. Dean seemed to have a knack for infuriating his family.

I need you

It's the first thing to make him smile in what feels like a very long time. Dean is reaching out. Even if it doesn't change anything… it still makes his lips twitch in warmth.

Time moves differently in Heaven. And he only measures it now in the length between Dean's prayers. Recently, they've become more and more frequent. Less angry… softer. It's almost worse because it means Dean hasn't given up hope yet. Soon enough they'll return to the bitter words like before or possibly even stop. Until then Castiel will selfishly wrap his voice around him and escape.

Naomi whirls on him.

"You are amused?"

He smoothes his face immediately. "I am never amused here."

"Castiel." She steps closer. Measured. "I want you to visit Dean."

He's on his feet in an instant. Visiting Dean. "Really? You will let me-"

"I will let you give him closure."

"What does that mean?"

"So that you can firmly severe your attachment… I want you to tell him you are choosing to stay apart from him."

"I won't."

"I know he continues to pray to you. Still. This is not working. He needs you to say the words. And I believe you need to say them. Perhaps then you can return to the fold. Come back to us fully, Castiel. Begin to reform."

"I won't lie to Dean. I'm not choosing this. I would be with him now if I was able."

She turns her back on him, agitated, then after a moment asks, "What if he knew you were to blame for destroying his family?"

His heart gives a stutter, mouth falling open.

"Would he pray to you then do you think?" she questions, turning to face him again.

"No," he answers softly. Dean would hate him.

"Then tell him. He needs you to say it."

Perhaps it would be a good thing in the end. If he truly wanted Dean to be happy, then Dean would need to move on. It was selfish to hold onto him for his prayers. If he could set him free… if he could at least set one of them free... And he didn't want Dean to remember him with hate in his heart, which he had no doubt Naomi would make happen if he didn't go.

Despite all this, he stills says, "No."

"What?"

"If I see him again, I won't be able to leave him."

"Castiel, do you understand, I will- "

"Do what you must but I won't go to Dean just to hurt him."

"Can you not see this is for your own good?! I am trying to save you from yourself!" She's showing more emotion and anger than he's ever seen. Naomi is used to being obeyed without question but in this she needs his compliance. And she cannot force him.

He remains silent but features blank in response.

Naomi lifts her chin in something close to disgust. "Very well. Run back to your garden, Castiel. I'm done with you for now."

Swallowing, he turns his back on her quickly. His heart is racing from expecting more of a fight. Grateful, he leaves Naomi behind and crosses to his sanctuary. His feet land in the plush grass and he sighs in relief. It's almost feels as if he's returning home. Late afternoon now, the sun is softer and it's a little colder than he remembers it being.

Castiel stops in his tracks when he sees someone is already sitting at the edge of his pond. It's not this heaven's occupant. He is far off on the other side of the garden and he never comes near the pond. It's not Balthazar or Gabriel.

As he approaches warily, the figure turns.

"Dean?!"

Frozen, Castiel stares in a mix of horror and elation. He- he can't be here. It's not possible. Is he dead? Even if he was dead he can't be here. Not in this Heaven. Not with him.

Dean gets up to his feet without saying anything and simply smiles at him.

He looks beautiful in the sinking sun. He'd be beautiful in any heaven. In every heaven. Castiel's body moves towards him of its own volition. Just one kiss then he'll find out the how's and whys because Dean is here. In front of him. Finally.

Castiel gasps and stops short when Dean jerks violently, eyes widening. Blood rushes out of his mouth, down his chin as he sinks to his knees.

"No!"

When he's only a foot away and almost able to catch him, Dean disappears. He stares down at the spot where he just was, watching the blood fade and be replaced by the same perfect grass.

It takes him the brief time of the sun sinking and coming up again before Castiel is filled with livid anger, realizing what that was.

"Naomi!"

She walks out from behind a wall of tall scrubs, clasping her hands behind her and watching him, dispassionately. "Humans die."

"We are charged with protecting humanity, and you threaten one?" He's shaking with the malevolent need to cross the distance to her.

"I will do what is necessary to save one of my own."

"Are you threatening him?"

"Are you going to go to him?" she deliberately counters.

Castiel grits his teeth and closes his eyes. Visions of attacking, stabbing, seeing the grace burn in her eyes are almost overwhelming.

"Okay," he says, before he can act out any of them.

"You'll do it?"

"Yes!" he growls angrily.

"We'll be listening."

They didn't allow him to leave Heaven. He only got a dream. But that would be enough. He has a few moments before they bring Dean to consciousness within the illusion to watch him. Beautiful. Just like in his garden but where that Dean was just a lifeless copy, this one has his shoulders slumped. The real Dean always seemed to almost physically carry his burdens.

Crickets chirp in the evening twilight making it seem peaceful. Dean has his eyes closed, enjoying the quiet. Castiel wishes he could just stay like this and continue to watch him. He's sitting on a picnic table.. most likely belonging to the people he lives with now. Gabriel described the house and its possessions for him whenever he asked. He asked too often.

Feeling strangely shy now, Castiel softly calls, "Dean."

He looks over his shoulder slowly, eyes widening when he sees him. "Holy shit!" Dean crosses the distance too quickly and is just suddenly embracing him with arms clutching him close. Too close. Too intimately. He can feel him smiling into his neck. It makes Castiel inhale sharply but he manages to at least remain stiff in his arms.

Pulling back, Dean keeps a hand on his shoulder like he needs the contact. "You alright? What they been doing to you? What-"

"Dean, I can't stay long." He has to make this quick or else he won't get it out.

"What are you talking about? You just got here."

"I only came to tell you… what you said you needed me to say."

Dean frowns and drops his hand.

"You'll… you are…. Dean, you'll never know what you've meant to me."

He takes a full step back, withdrawing. "But."

Castiel shifts his gaze back to the picnic table. "But I told you it was only until we killed Alastair."

Dean watches him steadily and he knows he needs to meet his eyes to make him believe… but he can't. It's hurting his heart too much.

"They're making you say that. This Naomi bitch and whoever else up there pulling your strings…"

"No, Dean. This is my-" he flicks his eyes to him then away again unable to watch his face. "This is my choice." It feels bitter to say it but he makes himself continue. "This is what is right. You need to form normal human attachments. You need a normal, human partner."

"Then you shoulda never asked me what a kiss was, Cas. You fucked me up for normal ever since then." Dean steps close again before he can prepare himself for it and cups his face to bring their foreheads together. And he lets him. Dean holds him there and Castiel has to close his eyes in something like anguish. To be this close…

Distantly he hears a crack of lightning in the dimming sky. The dream. It's a warning. He has to make him believe. Say the words.

"It was wrong of me to ever visit you. I see that now. Dean, please… I need to go."

"Don't. Stay," Dean whispers. "You know this is right." He catches his lips and Castiel tries to jerk away but Dean fights to hold him close. "Even when everything else turned to shit… this was always right. Nothing's ever been right, but you. Don't you fucking tell me you don't feel it."

Castiel slowly leans his face just that inch closer to touch their lips together again. Just once. One last time. Dean hums against his mouth and eagerly pushes back. He forgets himself for a moment in tentative rubbing of their tongues and the graze of teeth catching his lip but when another loud crack of lightning hits closer, he winces and finally forces Dean firmly away before he completely gives in.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this. I don't feel what you feel."

"Why are you saying this? Why aren't you trying? I fucking know you're lying." When Cas won't meet his eyes, Dean blows out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. "So what, you're just gonna stay up on your cloud? You said you liked it down here."

"I belong there."

"And you're never- I'm not gonna see you again? You can do that?" Dean accuses him.

"I need to. It's what best. For you. You'll see that eventually, Dean."

"Damnit Cas. Then look me in the eyes this time. Look at me and tell me you don't feel something for me and I'll leave you alone."

Castiel stays immobile staring at the ground, toes sinking in the false grass and feeling the pressure of the words. No matter how he wishes, they can't stay in this dream. It would break apart soon. This was his one chance to make Dean move on. To protect him. Even if he didn't understand, this is how he would show his love. He would give Dean up.

Lightning strikes a tree in the distance and he closes his eyes in defeat. They could easily strike Dean like that tree. Gritting his teeth, he crosses the distance and steps too close to so that Dean takes a step back in surprise.

"I don't feel anything for you. I don't want you. I enjoyed you, as I enjoyed other humans but in the end it will always be… insufficient."

Dean tenses, but Castiel walks past him before he has to see the expression on his face. He stops a few feet away, glaring at the dark sky. The storm seems to have cleared; he must have done well he thinks bitterly. It feels vile and wrong to purposely prey on Dean's insecurities and to allow him to think he's like the few humans he coupled with. He knows those are Dean's own doubts being voiced back at him. It was a betrayal but Castiel knew it was the one way- an awful way- to make him stop. Stop hoping, stop trying, stop wanting him.

A dull ache begins being his sternum at those thoughts and he can't help turning back. Dean's still facing away, head bowed slightly.

He can't do this.

"Dean.."

Just when his resolution weakens and he's walking forward to take back every horrible word, lightning hits right above them and the dream shatters, forcing him back to his place in Naomi's office.

"That will do, Castiel."

"Let me go back." His stomach turns, that can't be the last thing he says to Dean. "Please. You have to let me go back."

"I don't think so. That was the right decision. You did well… now your human will go on to live his life. It's how it should be."

If she says anything else, he doesn't hear it. He flies hard and fast to a far corner of Heaven. It's a forest with thick trees growing together and damp leaves blanketing the ground. He slams against the side of a redwood, cracking it in two. His fingers bleed as he strips the hard bark off another and upends a third. Everything just heals and rights itself no matter how much he destroys. When he's exhausted and gasping from the mix of blood and grace leaking from his wounds, he curls into a ball and tries not to think of anything. Especially him.

Dean stares numbly at the keys in his hand. It was time to go. Cas didn't want him. No matter how much his gut wanted to tell him it was a lie, the words were just how Cas knew to cut him. There was nothing left to do… but go.

He's only been driving a few minutes before he pulls off the country road to an abrupt stop. The engine ticks for a few seconds before he gets out, jerkily unlocks the trunk and grabs the tire iron.

Pacing next to the car, he suddenly grips it tight in his fist and slams it down onto the hood. The dent isn't even close to satisfying. He tries the windshield, then the driver side window. It takes another window and few more dents in the side until he can stop and throw the tire iron far away from him. Bunching his fingers in his hair until it sent tingles of pain through his scalp, he finally slumps down against the side of the car.

He sits like that for a long time. And after rubbing his eyes over and over with stiff fingers and sniffing he gets to his feet.

It was time to go.

When Dean shows up at 7 at night and walks past everyone eating dinner to go straight to the den, no one says anything. They all give him space and he sleeps. He sleeps all night and most of the next day. No angels show up in his dreams this time.

The following week, Dean spends fixing the car. One dent, one scuff at a time. It gives him something to concentrate on. Sam tries to talk to him but he doesn't give much back.

Ellen crouches down next to him the second day when he's popping a dent out of the hood.

"You found him I take it?"

Dean doesn't respond, only pushes harder and harder until it finally gives.

"Didn't go great?"

"No." Dean mutters in annoyance, trying to put off leave-me-the-fuck-alone vibes without actually biting her head off.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"What do you think?"

Ellen shrugs and casually says, "I think you might."

Dean rolls his eyes and sighs, pointedly walking away and going back to his buffer.

"You're leaving us ain't ya?"

"What gave me away?" he asks without taking his eyes off his work.

"Heartbreak has a way of making people put on their walkin' shoes."

Ignoring that, Dean just answers, "Yeah, I think it's time. Demons aren't gonna kill themselves." He smiles bitterly.

"Why now?"

"It's time," he repeats. He needed distance from them to do what needed to be done. It wasn't going to be easy finding Azazel and it would most likely take the bloody way. His jaw ticks as lays the buffer against the surface.

"This fella did a number on you, huh boy?" Ellen sighs, "I'm sorry I ever pushed you to go after the bastard."

"Don't be," Dean rolls his shoulders in an attempt at carelessness. "I'm over it."

"Uh huh. Well if he couldn't see a good thing when it was in front of him, fuck em'."

That surprises Dean into a snort and Ellen pats him on the back. Sighing, Dean places the buffer down and just stares at it. Quietly he says, "You know what really gets me? It was good and I mean really good. He felt it and he just-"

Dean flashes on that instant when Cas gave in and kissed him before shoving him away. He'd put himself out there for the first time in his life and Cas threw it back in his face. Shaking his head, Dean finishes, "I just don't understand why he didn't try harder."

"Give someone your heart and they'll disappoint you. It's a risk we all run. The trick is not to give up before you find someone that's worthy of it."

It sounds a little overly romantic for Ellen but when he glances at her face, she's lost in her own thoughts not even looking at him. Her husband had died over a decade ago and for the first time he'd wondered what Bill Harvelle had been like. What it was like for Ellen without him. Losing him like that.

On Friday he drives to pick up Sam from school in the newly restored Impala. His brother's face falls as soon as he hears the growl of the car and when he gets in, the door slams behind him.

"You're leaving aren't you?"

"I'll be back," Dean automatically says watching the road.

"Whatever," he turns towards the window.

After a few minutes, Dean pulls off the road and turns to Sam.

"Sammy, I wanted to give you something before I left."

Dean reaches back between the seats and pulls out a blade in sheath. Its short bowie, one dad kept wedged in his boot usually.

Sam's eyes light up in obvious interest but he's trying to still seem unaffected.

"Now it's not a toy and if you cut your hand open and bleed all over the carpet and get me in trouble with Ellen I'll be pissed."

Sam rolls his eyes.

"It was dads. Just thought you should have it." Dean passes it to him. "Don't do anything but hide it for right now. When I get back I'll show you some stuff."

As he watches him slowly pull it free from the sheath, Dean can't help thinking this really was a stupid thing to give him but he was feeling sentimental. Dad gave him a knife when he turned 16 and if he didn't come back… it felt right that he do this for Sam.

While Sam's busy staring in awe at the gift Dean says, "I'll come back soon, okay?"

Sam pushes the blade back in the sheath then sets it in his lap and turns back towards the window. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Dean."

And that was it. How they were gonna leave it. As soon as he pulls up to the house, Sam gets out. Jo and Ellen come outside to say goodbye just as he stomps past the inside.

Ellen smiles tightly. "You Winchester boys, always in hurry to get somewhere."

"Yeah," Dean frowns. "Guess so."

"He'll come around."

Dean nods and steps forward. "And I expect to see you for Thanksgivin'," Ellen points at him sternly before grabbing him in a tight hug.

"C'mon, like I'd miss your pumpkin pie."

"I'll make apple too just as an extra incentive."

Dean gives her wider grin than he thought he was capable over Jo's shoulder as he gives her a one-armed hug too. "I'll make it."

Turning the corner and leaving the house he'd called home for over half a year, Dean gets back out onto the highway.

Everything after that narrows to finding Azazel. He doesn't take random hunts anymore. Werewolves and ghosts were just distractions. Give him demons.

Ellen said he didn't need to take up his dad's obsession. Well he really did. He needed an obsession to hold close and fixate on. To block out all the other crap. Cas. His dad. Sam telling him not to make promises he couldn't keep, sounding too close to when Dean was a teenager and thinking that about their father. He needs a direction, and now had it.

He gets good at torturing. Not that he was half bad before but his stomach holds out better now. He gets to love the flash of black as they scream because it meant he was hurting them like they'd always managed to hurt him. Salt, Water, Knife, Repeat. Just like his dad taught him.

All his life, demons fucked everything up and he was ready to cut a bloody path through them. When the trail got cold for demon possessions, he'd find the nearest crossroad. He wanted Azazel but Crowley would do too. Then he'd work Crowley over and that thought gave him a twinge of dark pleasure.

It ends up taking almost 4 months and 3 crossroads demons. He buried the first two bodies in the middle of their crossroads. It seemed poetic and if he'd been honest, he took a perverse gratification from killing them. After his dad, he needed to kill them. He doesn't hesitate or let himself dwell on the human its riding anymore. If there were black eyes in its head, then it was something he could and would kill.

The third didn't seem to like the burn of salt all that much.

Holding her jaw and tipping another swallow down her throat she coughs around the red gore bubbling past her shiny lips.

When she screams something unintelligible, he pauses and steps out of the ring of the devil's trap he has her tied to a chair in.

"What was that? Couldn't understand you with all these shit in your mouth."

She glares with solid red orbs that he'd noticed where particular to the deal making bitches and spits a glob of something disgustingly thick and growls, "What do you want?!"

"Take me to your leader, baby."

Her eyes fade back to normal. "Crowley?"

"Bingo."

"No… he'd- he'd kill-"

Another mouthful of salt and she's bucking and screaming curses at him.

Dean circles her slowly. "Now listen up. The next time I pick up this bag, I don't put it down till it's empty. Then the holy water. Then the knife. And then I have to move on to the next crossroads skank for answers and start all over again. You give me what I want and I go away. We both win." Stopping in front of her with the bag of salt on the ground between them he asks, So what's it gonna be, sweetheart?"

In the end, he takes the address and stabs her in the gut anyway. Even if he was negging on a deal, he didn't feel an iota of guilt. His dad's words are louder in his head now, beating through him. Never leave 'em alive. It was easier than it ever had been not to see the human face as he took it out. He was finally becoming a hunter his dad would be proud of.

Dean finds the King of Douches sipping whiskey and reclining in a leather chair behind a wide desk. Predictably, it was in the most expensive house on the block. Getting through the guards took time. But time was all he had. Quiet and deadly, he made his way through the lavish house leaving behind bodes and blood wherever he stopped.

Crowley just tipped up the heavy glass and swallowed when he presses the knife to his throat.

Coughing shallowly, the demon turns his head gently to the side. "Oh there you are. Wondering when you were going to stop by."

"Oh yeah? You miss me?" Dean slips around to face him, knife tight to his throat.

"Sweetie, you seem tense."

"Tense. Yeah, I wonder why. You wanna know what it feels like to get your throat cut? I can describe it for you. Or better yet I could just show you so you get the full experience."

"You look well for a dead man. Little angelic intervention? I suppose it's one of the perks for bending over for a-"

Crowley chokes and hisses as Dean pushes the blade steadily into his skin and has to jut his chin up to arch away from it.

"Okay, okay! Look I was hoping your side would come out on top but I had to bet on both teams. And as I'm sure you are aware, Azazel's still out there! You didn't get them both so can't you see… self-preservation?"

"Where is he?"

"What makes you think I'd know something like that?"

"You better convince me you do." Dean tells him as he motions with his hand to get up out of the chair. Fist twisted in his shirt, Dean backs him up with the knife to beyond the door and around the corner.

"Alright now stay."

Crowley laughs incredulously when Dean walks past him to recover his bag from the shadows and crouches down to start pulling out his supplies. "Well since last I checked I wasn't a pooch I think I'll be going."

His face falls when he can't seem to move forward. Dean pulls out the bottle of holy water and calls over his shoulder. "Good boy."

Directly below him there's a small devil's trap in red marker only large enough for him to take a step in either direction. Dean had drawn it hastily before he made his move, hoping he'd be able to take him alive.

Standing up, Dean smiles and asks, "So where were we?"

As it turns out, it didn't take much. After only a single splash of holy water, Crowley's spluttering, "I'll tell you!" Ha. The Wannabe King of Hell seemed to be squeamish when it was his own vessel sizzling.

"You'll show me," Dean corrects, swishing the bottle in warning.

"I'll need a match and the map in my office desk, third drawer." Dean walks back into the room and Crowley calls, "the key is in my-" but he's cut off by the sound of wood splintering. "Heathen," he mutters as Dean returns with the map in hand.

When Crowley tries to bargain his way out of the trap to do the location spell, Dean drags a heavy table over to him instead.

"Hey, that's Brazillian Cherrywood you're scuffing, you uncultured He-man!"

Tossing down the folded paper in front of him with the box of matches, Dean grunts, "There. Do your little map trick."

Spreading his hands over the map to smooth it, Crowley flicks his eyes up and asks, "What's to stop you from topping me like you have every other demon you see?"

"Aw what's a matter, Crowley? Trust issues?"

He shrugs and smiles coyly. "I've been hurt before."

"Alright, we'll make a deal. You give me a treasure map and I'll let you go."

"Bet you sweet-talked the last demon the same way before you stuck them with that pretty little knife of yours."

Dean smirks like he was caught. He reaches inside his jacket and takes out said blade. He twists it in the light so he can see it's the right one. "Knife for the map?"

Crowley tenses while he waits for Dean to move, but he just tosses it to him without further preamble.

It's obvious the demon's a little surprised but quickly recovers to his default smarmy confidence, his lips turning up in satisfaction now that he has possession of the only weapon he knew Dean could kill him with.

"Just between us girls, what's an angel like in bed? Fire and Brimstone or Heavenly Devotion?"

Striking a match, he raises a cocky eyebrow at the hard lines of Dean's face and tosses it. After a few words of Latin, it burns up the paper unnaturally quick and only leaves a small spot to the far left. Crowley gives him a sideways glance. "There's your big bad demon."

Dean picks it up, taking a second to note his destination, then cocks his head at him like he's considering that won't end well for the demon.

"Now, now we had a deal."

"The devil's in the details. I said I'd give you the knife." He pulls out an angel blade and grins. "For the King of the Crossroads, you're a shit salesman."

"Where in the bloody hell did you get that?"

"Souvenir." Dean steps towards him. "Gotta say, been lookin' forward to this."

Crowley holds his hands up, placating. His back is to the edge of the trap. "Anything. Anything you want. Tell me what you want!"

"My mom."

"I can't-"

"My dad."

"Be reasonable."

"Sorry, all my reason went out the door when my family was killed by goddamn demons."

Dean steps within striking distance just as Crowley yells, "Wait! The redhead!"

Nothing he says can stop him now. He raises his arm to end him.

"Oh for Christ's sake- what was her- Charlie? Charlie!"

Dean hesitates and grinds his teeth with the need to shove the blade deep into his gut. Do it. Kill him. His dad would without a blink. Nothing and no one comes before taking one of them out. Stop being weak. He's just throwing out her name now to save his skin. Dean has to do it. He needs to do it. Do it.

"I'll let her go. Fair trade. No strings."

Do it. Kill him. Now. NOW.

Dean pushes aside the voice in his head urging him on for a second. Charlie. Yes, he was a demon. But just one demon. There would always be more. And this was the soul of someone he once considered a friend. This was Charlie's soul versus just another dead demon. If only it wasn't this demon.

"How do I know you'll keep up your end?" he asks to buy himself more time to think. It was so hard to think. Killing him would be easier.

"I have one rule: Make a deal, keep it." Crowley smiles with nerves that make it look more like a grimace. "So.. we got a deal?"

Dean exhales, closing his eyes, to force himself to stop and think of something other than the need to stab.

Mario. Charlie and him eating a whole bag of chips. Sharing a PB&J and telling him it was okay. He was okay. Charlie yelling, "For the Republic!" in that extra dorky way of hers. Fuck. Shaking, as he lowers his arm, Dean spits out, "Deal."

He takes out his glock and shoots a huge hole in the nice expensive wood, breaking the trap. Crowley's jump and outraged horror makes him feel a little better. "And I'm not kissing you."

Blowing out a harsh breath, Crowley rubs a hand down his face. "Your loss."

He slides the knife across the table back towards Dean. Before he poofs out of existence he says, "I don't know who I'm rooting for more. You or Azazel. Maybe you'll take each other out and we'll have a happy ending, eh?"

Two days later, Dean's sitting at night in the Impala, looking at the church in the distance. He's been scoping it out since yesterday and at this point, he's pretty sure they're all demons. They were probably cooking up some new evil plan, but it didn't really fucking matter. Tonight he'll go in. There's no reason to wait any longer.

He doesn't call Sam. He already said his goodbye whether he realized it or not. Sam deserved better but it was what it was.

For the first time in a long time, Dean lets down the barriers he put up around his name in his mind and thinks… Cas. He hasn't prayed to Cas since that day. Months and months and he's managed… well he's tried not to think about him. Not to stop or let up long enough to let him back into his head. First it was find a demon. Then it was find Crowley. Finally find Azazel. Now he's here and it's time… and he can't just leave it.

It hurts to open up that part of him, to even think his name, but he does.

Cas. I… I'm still pissed at you, damnit. I know you don't believe that shit you said. But it doesn't matter anymore. In the long run, you know. I had a while to think about it and you know what, it doesn't fucking matter. You're up there and I'm here. The way it should be, right? Dean leans his forehead on the steering wheel. I just needed to say…

It's suddenly too stuffy in the car. He gets out of the car and comes around the front, needing air. Running fingers roughly through his short hair, Dean turns to sit on the hood of his car. He stops thinking about the right words to say goodbye and just looks up at the stars. It's something he hasn't done in… he can't even remember when. Dean pulls the obsidian feather out of his jacket pocket and turns it carefully between his thumb and index finger.

When I was a kid…I used to imagine you up there, flying with the stars when you didn't visit. Stupid, huh?

Dean stares at the stars a long time before he can say the rest. He won't have another chance.

I haven't said it to anyone in a really long time… but I think…

He thumbs over the tip of the feather before pocketing it again. This time he says the words out loud while he prays. "I know I loved you. I still love you. I guess I needed you to hear it. Just once."

Dean puffs out a breath and gives a small smile of regret up at the sky, oddly feeling a little better. He slides off the car. Now he can go. The last of his goodbyes. If Cas was in front of him he'd probably never be able to say any of that, but here, as a farewell thrown out for him to catch the words or not… it wasn't all that hard.

An hour later, Gabriel watches from the top of a tree as Dean walks into a church full of demons. "Oh… sugarshack."

In Heaven, Castiel closes his eyes and makes a painful gasp that feels like a sob. He bows his head and holds it in his hands before fisting his fingers in his hair for a second in agitation. Suddenly he stands from beside his pond on shaky legs and gathers his courage to him, Dean's words helping him along.

Balthazar looks at him in question. Usually one of them is always with him now when he's not with Naomi. They keep him company. After... after the dream.

Frowning, his brother asks, "What is it?"

"I'm ready." And surprisingly his voice sounds normal if not determined.

"Ohh cryptic. Ready for…"

He starts walking and Balthazar gets up hurriedly, "Ready for what, Cassie?!"

Castiel feels Batlhazar behind him as he crosses over endless heavens, endless folds of space all on top of one another and comes to stand at the edge. It's mostly metaphorical; just an area that has been agreed upon so that it manifests itself this way now. It appears as a slopping cliff that he is at now, gasping on his fear but pushing that away from him. This is a good moment. One step and he would be with Dean. Really it's the act of dropping without protecting themselves, wings folded tight, but it all comes down to if he will be able to take that step.

"Stop! I know what you're thinking but you can't. Not now. Not like this."

"Why would I wait any longer? I want to be with Dean."

"Damnit, he isn't worth your wings, Cassie!"

Castiel turns back to him. "He is. To me, he is." He steps closer and puts a hand on Balthazar's shoulder. "This si what I want, Balthazar." Angels are drawing closer to bare witness. Out of curiosity or to gawk, he ignores them and embraces his brother around the neck. "I hope you'll come to me when I'm human." It was against every rule but he says it anyway.

Balthazar huffs a small noise that sounds pained and hugs him tightly in return. "Just try and stop me."

Smiling, Castiel takes a moment to look around at his brothers and sisters, all watching him and murmuring to one another but Balthazar and Gabriel are the only ones he will truly miss. He wishes Gabriel was here. His feet curl at the edge. He doesn't look down. Knows without looking the clouds seem to trail downward just here like it's a waterfall. It's beautiful and awful. He thinks of Anna. How brave and fearless she seemed the last time he was here, being held back because he couldn't stop her. He would have never thought he'd be standing here, willing to give up his very existence for a human. One special human. His human.

Castiel closes his eyes and takes that last step.

Author's Note: One chapter left. Hold tight, my darlings. This last chapter will be a doozie. Are you ready?