If you've ever been left alone with your thoughts, then you know how easy it is to wander into it's dark crevices. You understand how painfully easy it is to peek into the depressing parts of your brain. Dean had two years left alone with his thoughts, reading through them over and over. Most of these consisted of Gabriel, not because he was the only problem, but losing Cas had hit him hard. Sam stopped hanging around him, Ellen and Bobby falling out of contact. He was lonely. His only company for two years these demonic thoughts. He was losing his mind.

Gabriel Gabriel Gabriel Gabriel. All Dean could think about was ganking him. Hunts became strange. His mind would change the images before they reached his brain. Cutting off the head of a vamp became cutting off Gabriel's. Burning a corpse? Gabriel. Shooting down some other monster? Gabriel.

Gabriel Gabriel Gabriel Gabriel. That bastard was responsible for it all. He'd been a pain in the ass since the first time they'd met. Then there was the mystery spot, then TV land, then being a douche and 'testing' him. Then to top it all off, he sent Dean's only friend to hell. He was lonely, going insane. His only comfort being the assurance he'd get to slice the damn angel into a heavenly little kabob. Cooked well done in holy oil.

Cas was suffering down in hell now, and there was nothing Dean could do to get him out. No demons would strike a deal and Crowley never answered him. No other angels were a help either. No one wanted to get him out. Dean figured deep frying the garrison was the next best thing if he couldn't manage Gabriel. All those stupid angels... Why hadn't Gabriel tried to go down and save him? Because Crowley hadn't honored his deal. There hadn't been a single word from him in the last few years. They'd tried to summon him, but it was as if he was out of reach. He never came. Gabriel couldn't get Cas out without his angelic grace.

Everybody was fucked.

Dean plopped himself of the bed of his single-motel room. Sam had stopped rooming with him all together. He ran his hands roughly over his face, telling himself he wouldn't cry, but his fingers brushed over the hot tears as they swept over his eyes. He was lonely, crazy, hopeless.

Going insane.

Gabriel Gabriel Gabriel Gabriel...

Cas...

Cas was in his head. Refused to leave. His head started playing tricks on him, imagining that the angel would pop in at random times like he always used to. Frustrated with himself, Dean slammed his fists hard into the bed, "Damn it!"

He'd come to terms with it over the years. He had fallen in love with Cas. Never got the chance to tell him though... probably never would. He was to the point of giving up. The gun across the room looking more friendly every day. If he died... he'd go to hell right? He'd see Cas again? The way things were, he was already living hell. Another day on Earth would break him completely. With every ounce of hope he had left, he tried to summon Crowley again.

Again, it failed. The demon didn't show.

Dean was done with it all. He picked himself up off the bed, and trudged across the room. The gun beckoned him. Dean poured himself a shot of whiskey, sitting down at the table, gun in one hand, the other one lifting the drink to his mouth. With a last silent prayer to Cas, he cried.

"I'm coming. I promise you I'm coming Cas. I'll- I'll get you out somehow."

His finger tightened, and a shot rang. Blood dripped onto the carpet and streamed from the fresh hole in his temple. The gun fell to the floor with a thud, people in the other rooms started fumbling about, "Was that a shot?"

It was an hour before Sam showed up. He wasn't allowed a second's worth of sleep that night.

I'm coming Cas. I promise, I'm coming.

Dean smiled as he saw the angel come into his view, that silly trench coat still a few sizes too big, his hair ruffled and messy. Dean was happier then he'd been in years. His angel with him once more. They'd fight through hell together. Crushing any demon that stood in their way, and NEVER letting go of each other ever again. Hell would learn to think twice before passing one up on any of the Winchesters again.

The hunter and his angel, the rebels of hell. Love stronger then any, fuel by rage, insanity, and absence. Fierce passion channeled into a demon blade, slashing down the enemy together. The hunter and his angel, the rebels of hell. Together forever.