A/N: Thank you to Fandomsarehere for your comments, despite the pain I'm causing you! And thank you to everyone who's staying with me, your patience is appreciated. Now for something both happy and sad and all around feels-inducing.

Chapter Thirteen

Castiel scrambled his feet. "No," he repeated. It was if that was the only thing he could say. He could feel the tears track down his face, but it wasn't important.

He stumbled over to Dean and threw his arms around him, no doubt smearing his clothes with dirt. "No," this one came out like a choked sob. "No, I won't let this happen!"

Dean's arms circled him. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered, pulling Castiel onto his lap. "It'll be okay."

Castiel wanted to yell at him that no, it would not be okay, because Dean was an idiot if he thought Castiel wouldn't do anything to prevent this. But Castiel couldn't form the words through the intense burning in his throat.

Dean rocked them gently, murmuring soothing nonsense into Castiel's hair. The angel lost track of time; all he could do anymore was hold Dean tightly so he could never leave him.

Eventually, the tears turned into little dry chokes, and then to strained breathing. Dean exhaled slowly before pulling away a little. "Let's go home," he said quietly. Castiel nodded.

The walk back to Bobby's was a blur, and Castiel kept his hand firmly fitted in Dean's. He felt like if he stopped touching him, Dean would die on the spot. Bobby could tell that something was wrong, he could always tell, but before he had the chance to give Dean the third degree, Sam shook his head.

They got on the horses and set off towards the kingdom. Castiel felt his wings drag the ground as the horses trotted, but he had no energy to keep them folded against his back. He just kept replaying Dean's broken screams and the light leaving his eyes over and over in his head. He held Dean tightly around the waist and pressed his forehead to the back of Dean's neck.

They were back and all Castiel wanted to do was go up to Dean's room and sleep or cry or make love, something to hold onto him tightly. Dean, in an uncharacteristic show of cheerfulness, suggested they all go down to the kitchens and see if Charlie was making pie or something.

So Castiel went. He could feel himself starting to numb over, from the events of fighting with Dean, seeing Benny kiss him, flying halfway across the country, coming back to see Michael and Lucifer, the emotional whiplash of mostly making up with Dean, tearing off an angel's wings, and having a graphic vision about Dean's death. Holding Dean's head in his hands as he bled out. God.

"My favorite chef!" Dean grinned at the redhead. "Anything for us to sample today?"

"You're in luck, Your Majesty," Charlie ducked into a large pantry and pulled out two covered tins. "The staff made off with most of it, but I still have half of a cherry pie and half of a pecan pie left."

Dean make a noise of happiness and hugged her, taking the tins right out of her hands. "You're a lifesaver."

The kitchens were virtually empty, and the four sat at one of the crude wooden tables. Dean cut them each slices of the pie, but only he dug in. Sam, Gabe, and Castiel just stared at him.

"Dean," Sam said carefully. "Shouldn't we, I don't know, talk about this?"

"I don't see why," Dean said around a mouthful of cherries, avoiding eye contact.

"Dean," Sam tried again. "You said that the third trial needed Winchester blood." Dean swallowed and put down his fork, but said nothing. Sam sucked in a breath. "What if-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Dean growled, eyes flaming.

Sam made an exasperated movement with his hands. "Well there has to be another way!" he said. "Let's just go back to Thomas' library and look-"

"No," Dean said decisively. "What's done is done. I-"

Castiel stood up quickly, toppling his chair over and cutting off the conversation. He wasn't sad anymore, he was angry. "I believe it's time for Dean and I to retire," the angel said, voice dangerously low.

Something flashed in Dean's eyes. Apprehension? Castiel thought he might argue, but got up after a minute, leaving the rest of his pie.

Dean and Castiel were out the door, and Gabe turned to Sam, eyes reflecting a similar fire. "What the hell was that?"

The prince sighed. "He's got so much weight on his shoulders. He shouldn't have to make that sacrifice."

"And you should?" Gabe stood and stepped into the tiny space between Sam's chair and the table, facing him. "You and Dean have been trying to sacrifice yourselves for each other for too long. You remember in the first Rebellion, the battle of Lawrence?"

Sam colored red in embarrassment and looked down. Their carriage had been attacked, and Dean and Sam fought alongside their guards. Some rebel had snuck up behind Dean and Sam got scared, so he pushed his brother out of the way and took a blade to the back. Truthfully, Dean could have handled the situation fine, but Sam would rather die than see his brother killed.

Gabe crawled onto Sam's lap and wrapped an arm around his back, tracing the raised scar near his spine. "Once you recovered, you two fought so loudly. I know what you're thinking, Sam, and you don't have to sacrifice yourself to prove that you love your brother."

Sam's arms wrapped around his boyfriend, pulling him close. "I know. This whole situation is just… horrible."

Gabe nodded and kissed the top of Sam's head. "I suggest you do what you're best at: look for a way to stop all of this without getting either one of you killed." The shorter man tilted Sam's chin up. "I'll be here to help."

"I love you," Sam murmured.

"Love you back." Gabe kissed him. For just a moment he'd try and forget about everything that was happening. But he was still worried about Castiel, and what was probably going on upstairs.

o o o

Castiel stomped up the stairs, face red from the sheer force of will it took to control his anger. Dean followed after him, that stupid look of resignation across his face.

Neither of them spoke until they were in the king's quarters with the doors locked. Dean lingered in the front room, taking particular interest in one of the couch cushions.

"You're not seriously considering it, are you?" Castiel hissed.

Dean shrugged. "Why shouldn't I?"

Castiel's jaw clenched. "Why shouldn't you let yourself die because of one stupid prophecy?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Dean said, his voice rising. "Why shouldn't I do something to save my kingdom? The last trial needs Winchester blood and I'm sure as hell not letting Sam die."

"And why is you dying okay? It's not!"

"It is!" Dean's hands balled into fists. "I should have died before, a few times, and you saved me. Completing the third trial is the least I can do for my people."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "You do so much for this kingdom."

Dean laughed. "Like what? Babysit council members as they make the laws? Entertain stuffy nobles while my people are attacked every day? Nothing I do means anything!"

"That's bullshit," Castiel took a few steps forward. "You care about every person in this kingdom and have repeatedly proven so. What's really wrong?"

To Castiel's surprise, Dean's eyes filled with tears. "You don't know, Cas. I should have died. Back in the First Rebellion, I was injured and the mob came after me, but Dad… my father locked me in a closet and they killed him instead." Castiel's eyes were wide. "If I had died instead of him, then he'd be here as the king and taking care of everyone like I haven't been able to."

"Dean-"

"Not only that," Dean swiped at his eyes, words just spilling out. "I've screwed up so much. I- I hurt you because I was stupid and you don't deserve that. I cut those angel's wings off like it was nothing, and that's ten levels of fucked up. I killed a baby." Dean put his head in his hands. "God, I deserve to die, and if it means helping my kingdom, then all the more reason."

Castiel's heart broke for Dean. No wonder he had such strong shoulders; he took on the weight of everything around him, regardless of whether it was his fault or not. He thought so low of himself when really, he was so important to everyone. He was Sam's idol and Bobby's pride and Castiel's entire world. Castiel took the fall for Dean's magic use because he knew that Dean meant so much to everyone. Castiel was willing to let Dean be happy with Benny, because even though it hurt, the world would still have Dean Winchester to brighten it. And now…

"Dean," Castiel murmured, prying his hands gently from his face. "Do you know what would happen to me if you died?" Dean looked at him, eyes red. "I would die."

"Cas, no-"

"Yes," he insisted, twining his fingers through Dean's. "I would die every single day. Going to sleep and waking up alone, never feeling your arms around me, never seeing your eyes or your smile again… I would wish for death." He sniffed, feeling the all too familiar burning sensation behind his eyes. "I love you."

"Why?" Dean asked, voice breaking. "Why do you love me so much? I've been nothing but terrible to you."

Castiel pulled Dean to sit on the couch. "Do you remember the first day I became your squire?" he asked. "That was the day that you said you were sorry for the death of my parents, my human parents. You didn't know them and I didn't even really care for them, but you said that no one should have to die. It was that day that I realized how good you are.

"And then, when the castle was attacked during the party of the Harvelles, you not only fought off the rebels without killing them, but held a funeral that honored all the soldiers you lost and the rebel that did die. You said it's always been your belief that everyone should be delivered to the next life. You're brave and honorable."

Castiel took a breath. "You see the best in people. Even with Benny—" Dean tensed, but Castiel continued. "You didn't see his other intentions because you focused on the good. You took a shot at friendship with your ex, because you were right, no one deserves to feel alone.

"And most importantly to me, you love me. Right?"

"Of course," Dean responded immediately.

The corners of Castiel's lips tilted upwards. "No one's ever done that for me before. You proved to me that I was worth something, which I didn't think before I met you. Losing that farm was the best thing I could have ever done, because no matter what shit has gone on in the past several months, my life has been so much better with you in it."

A few tears were still leaking out of Dean's eyes, and Castiel realized that he was crying a little now too. "You are my world, Dean. So if you think for one second that sacrificing yourself would benefit anyone, then you're an idiot. Killing yourself would be the same as driving a sword through me."

Dean's lip trembled and he pulled Castiel to straddle his lap, crushing them together. His head was buried in the angel's neck, and his hands were bruising against Castiel's bare sides, under his wings. "You gonna kill me, Dean?"

"No," Dean choked. "Never."

Castiel kissed Dean's temple and his hair and moved to kiss the tears away. Dean brought a hand up to tangle through Castiel's hair, and for the first time in too long, their lips slotted together perfectly.

Castiel almost wanted to cry again. That, right there, was the feeling of coming home. Dean was his home, where he belonged, and he knew as his thumb traced Dean's cheekbone that there was nothing that would ever tear them apart again.

"Please, Dean," Castiel murmured against his skin. "Let me show you how much I love you."

Dean stood quickly and Castiel wrapped his legs around him to keep from falling. The king carried Castiel into the bedroom and sat on the bed, unwilling to detach for even one moment. The angel pushed him down to lay flat and peppered kisses down his jaw and neck, unbuttoning the plain shirt slowly.

He slid off Dean to stand, taking Dean's shirt with him. He quickly stripped down himself and manhandled Dean's pants off. "Scoot up," he commanded gently.

Dean pushed himself up the bed until his head rested comfortably on the pillow. Castiel crawled onto the bed and started at the bottom, kissing Dean's ankles and moving slowly up his legs.

Dean stared at him, awed and breathless as Castiel made his way slowly up his body. He nibbled and licked his way upwards, bypassing Dean's rapidly hardening length. The king whimpered but made no protest, just watching as Castiel's hot tongue dragged over his skin.

"I love you," Castiel murmured into his neck. His wings flared wide and draped securely over the two. "So much."

"Love you," Dean whispered, as if he didn't trust his own voice.

Castiel kissed him, long and deep and slow. Dean seemed to come alive at the touch of his lips. He twined his fingers through Castiel's dark hair and brushed a hand down the soft feathers of his wing.

Castiel didn't try to stop the deep moan that fell from his throat. He rutted slowly against Dean, whose hips flexed upwards, searching for more. He cradled Dean's face in one of his hands, trying to convey what he felt.

Dean traced his fingers over the seam of Castiel's wings as it met his skin, and Castiel whimpered into Dean's neck. He needed to get a handle on the situation before it was over too quickly.

Dean whined as Castiel left him to crawl down, but stopped as Castiel settled between his legs. "I want you," Castiel murmured, nuzzling at the base of Dean's member. "Can I have you? Forever?"

"Yes," Dean moaned.

That was enough for Castiel. He teased Dean for only a second before taking him into his mouth, curling his tongue around the hot skin. Dean made a sort of choked-off whimper, and Castiel held his hips down.

He went slowly, hollowing his cheeks and taking Dean down as far as he could. The king was clutching at his hair, gripping tightly and then carding his fingers through it as if he was forcing himself to be gentle.

Castiel reached behind him to gather his oil, which was leaking steadily from the little glands. His body was absolutely singing at the simple fact of touching Dean again. It had been too long.

Castiel pulled his mouth off of Dean only to replace it with an oil-slicked hand. The Winchester propped himself up on his elbows to watch, pupils blown wide. Castiel pressed gentle kisses on the insides of his thighs, stopping just shy of his furled entrance.

"Please, Cas," Dean begged quietly, shifting his hips as if that would alleviate some of his tension.

Castiel couldn't help but smile at him, moving his hand slowly down to the pink puckered skin. He rubbed over it gently, and Dean's head fell back.

Castiel took his time, gathering more oil and pushing through the rings of muscle slowly, watching Dean's body tremble. The heavy breaths and quiet, high-pitched whines coming from the king were music to Castiel's ears.

He twisted his finger and removed it, coating it with more oil before pressing two in. Dean was dripping now, and it was perfect.

He watched his fingers disappear into Dean, twisting and scissoring as he prepared him. He looked so amazing there, open and willing and wanting. Castiel couldn't help but lick around his fingers, tasting his own oil.

Dean's hips jerked almost violently. "Cas!" He came suddenly and without warning, back bowing with the force of his pleasure.

Castiel worked him through it until Dean pushed weakly against his head. Castiel moved up his body, gently cleaning off the planes of Dean's stomach with his tongue. When he reached his face, Dean fisted a hand in Castiel's hair and crashed their lips together.

A moan escaped the angel's throat as Dean's tongue invaded Castiel's mouth, tasting himself and the oil together. He pulled away after just a moment, his eyes desperate.

"I take it you're not done?" Castiel tried to sound seductive, but it came out a little too choked and intense.

"No," Dean growled. "Need you."

Castiel didn't need to be told twice. He rolled Dean onto his side and spooned up behind him, tucking one dark wing underneath them both and draping the other over them like a blanket.

His diamond-hard length was slicked up quickly, and he plastered himself onto Dean's back, not one inch of skin untouched. With one steady hand on Dean's stomach, Castiel slowly sheathed himself inside.

"Dean," he breathed, burying his face into the king's neck. He felt so damn amazing. Why had they been apart for so long?

As Dean adjusted, Castiel pressed openmouthed kisses to his shoulders and murmured soothing words. He repeated, "I love you," over and over until Dean pushed his hips back into Castiel's.

The angel slid out and pushed back in, stars dancing in front of his eyes. He would never, ever tire of this.

Sensations shot through him as he rocked into Dean, the angle perfect, rubbing ruthlessly against his prostate. His hand ran up and down Dean's torso, smoothing over the soft skin dotted with freckles. It inched downwards, and he was pleased to find that Dean was at full mast again.

"Cas," he whined, gripping at the soft downey feathers of his wing.

Castiel bit down on Dean's shoulder and snapped his hips hard. Dean kept tugging and Castiel's pace sped. He tried to pump Dean in time with his thrusts, but they were getting erratic already.

With the last bit of clarity, Dean reached behind him to press against Castiel's oil gland. With a one last thrust, Castiel came hard inside him.

Castiel's blood rushed in his ears, but Dean was still rocking backwards desperately. Though he was post orgasm, he was still relatively hard, and he continued to grind up into him.

Dean was so close. He rolled them back until Dean was laying facing the ceiling, his back to Castiel's chest. It should have been an awkward position, but Castiel planted his feet on the bed and focused, working him over as quickly as he could.

Castiel's other hand found the Mark and he bit down hard on Dean's shoulder. The king fell over the edge with a shout.

This time, even from a strange vantage point, he was able to watch Dean as he came undone again, shaking and straining and so utterly debauched that Castiel feared he might need to go another round.

After a few more seconds, Dean relaxed back into him, and Castiel slipped out of him carefully. With a flick of his hand, the mess was gone.

Dean managed to lift himself up so Castiel could remove his wing from being crushed all night, then fell back against the bed, a little smile on his face. Castiel threw a leg over his and stretched his wings out to drape across the bed and onto the floor.

"Stay with me," Dean murmured. For a moment, Castiel marveled at the parallel. Less than two months ago, Dean was asking him to stay in that same shy voice, right after he first told Castiel he loved him. Now the whole world was different, but Castiel still loved Dean all the same.

"I will," Dean murmured, kissing Castiel on the temple. "I promise."

Castiel waited for Dean to fall asleep, counting his heartbeats until they slowed to an unconscious pace.

The angel slowed his breathing too, but it took longer than he thought to go to sleep. That image of Dean dying kept running through his mind, taunting him. But Dean would stay. He wouldn't complete the trials. He promised. They would find another way.

Castiel's arm tightened around his love, but Dean didn't wake. They would find another way, he was sure. Only then did he sink into sleep.

A/N: Reviews are much appreciated even if you hate me!