A full Cas!POV just for kicks.

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profits. Warnings: may contain small spoilers, AU and probably a really bad plot-twist-ending with a small "crossover". Some crude language. Mentions of Dean/Castiel with brief details.

"Anna!" Castiel yelled out, drawn to the field where he journeyed for peace. It was a siren's call to him. His own little piece of Heaven on earth. How could he ever forget such a place?

It was green. As jade-of-the-sea green as he remembered, with flowers sprouting and beginning to grow. Light violets and budding roses, yellow tulips and dancing dandelions. Weeds as ugly as sin curled protectively around their perfect brethren. A reminder that there is good in the face of evil just as evil can hide amongst the face of good.

A soft wind blew, tugging on his coat-tails of his tan trench coat and ruffling his hair. Closing his eyes, it was so easy to imagine it was Dean's playful, teasing fingers from long before.

"You look so sexy like this," he actually giggled, too airy to be a chuckle and heavier than a snort, digging his fingers into Castiel's scalp with drunken glee. He leaned down to kiss his forehead, then his nose, then his lips. Dean sighed. "You have that sexy bed-head hair,"

"So do you," he insisted, slurring his words slightly. He, too, was drunk from imbibing too much alcohol in their celebration. Of what, he was no longer aware.

"Nah, not like you," he replied, shaking his head. "You look sin-ful-ly debauched 'cuz yer so sweet and innocent and have gorgeous puppy eyes and a pout that could melt good ol' Lucy's black heart," He sucked with his teeth on Castiel's bottom lip like he was attempting to drink the soft pink flesh. He moaned and submitted to Dean's alpha ways, fingers pressing into his ass already. "It looks better on you; you have the innocence to pull it off, my Angel,"

"Yours," Cas agreed, gasping as he rocked back onto the fingers deep inside him.

"Mine," he growled. "Always mine,"

He shivered in the shadows of that memory. Twinging as the Breaths roamed restless. Not uncomfortably, just anxious and waiting. Danger was in the air, a thrilling sinister sense of dread and confusion. He was not sure he wanted to find the resolution any more.

"Anna, find me," he muttered darkly, daring her to appear before he lost his nerve and summoned Dean to stand beside him.

"I'm impressed," she whispered smugly, striding towards him through a sudden cloud of mist. "It didn't take too long for you and your delicious meat-bag to figure out. Too bad that was all a part of my plan,"

"What is your plan?" he asked, fighting against the hesitation that tried to make him pause and flee.

With a speed and agility he didn't know she was-or whatever she was-capable of, her face leaned down into his intimidatingly. Her wide grin split her face as her eyes flickered black. Demon black. Castiel took a step back but claws dug into his flesh, drawing blood and turning him to stone.

She pressed her nose against his and he shuddered at the waves of disgust that shook his Breaths alive. "I think it's time we had our little chat, don't you think, Cassie?"

The only thing that remained to bear their imprint was the drops of blood that splattered on one pair of shoe-printed, flattened grass and painted the ground.

It was damp wherever she took him. He could hear the water dripping in the background incessantly like chimes in a hurricane.

It was warm. Just enough to make his vessel sweat on the edge of his comfort zone.

It was dark because of the blindfold he was wearing. It smelled like a chemically-dirtied dishcloth and stung if he tried to open his eyes.

His mind was still reeling from the jump she had taken him on far too much for him to process much more than this. Whatever was parading around as Anna was certainly more powerful than him and ancient too. Some type of god or goddess from years past. It was the only explanation for the cunning strength and the hot tingle from the residue of oak that flavoured its power.

"Don't think too hard, Cassie," she mocked from behind him, if all his senses were true. "You'll fry that pretty brain of yours and I'm on orders to keep you alive,"

"Who...who's orders?" he gasped. His head felt heavy and his body felt weak. A drug of some sort must be coursing through his system.

He noticed a peculiar lack of feeling in his stomach. The Breaths were gone. Ripped out of him if the stickiness and mild pain was anything to go by. The area itched as it was on the mend. Mercy, or forgetfulness perhaps?

She chuckled. "You wouldn't know Him, you're too young," He felt her stretch her body and wrap around him so that they were facing each other. She gently lifted his blindfold off and he blinked at her fuzzy visage. "But, since I have such a soft spot for you, I think I'll tell you anyways. I'm not Anna, I am something much greater,"

Her eyes shifted black and then yellow and then red. "Something much older," Her skin shimmered gold and her teeth sharpened into rows of shark teeth. "Something much more dangerous than you'll ever know and far more sinister than those Leviathons you wanted in a different future.

"I am Goddess and my mate is God!" she screeched, wings spurting out of her back, wet and dripping black liquid the smell of petroleum that sizzled as it met the ground. "Our name shall be restored and our hunger sated with only the blood and destruction and enslavement of your precious humans, especially the one called Dean. He will be the First, to resurrect my Lord just as he began the breaking of seals for your Lucifer,"

She was a blur nipping at his nose with her sharkish jaw, returning to her position as if nothing had happened. The faint tingling said otherwise. She hummed smugly. "He will be Ours, Cassie. Bonded to Us as Our favourite plaything. You know how tasty he is; We just might keep him...forever,"

"You will not have him!" he spat at her, a red haze of anger tinting his vision.

Pain flooded over the barrier of the drug's limit, breaking its hold permanently and viciously, and his wings materialized in his distress. He strained against his chair, keening fruitlessly as any sort of haze disappeared. She cooed delighted, wrapping herself around Castiel once more to toy with his wings.

"Perfect," she remarked with childish joy, manually flapping his wings in the same time as one would clap their hands together. "Everything's going as planned!" She cackled as she squeezed tighter around his body, making him choke.

"Now this means I get to have some fun, finally," she spun around to face him and etched a bloody trail underneath Castiel's chin from his neck up with the pointed nail of her first finger. He scowled at her, turning away from her touch.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to play with you," she purred. "At least I found out something interesting while I invaded your Heaven in compensation for my patience,"

She leaned in to his exposed ear and chewed on it, biting down when Castiel tried to pull away and tearing at his cartilage. His right ear flapped against the side of his neck, missing its connective tissue. "Your wings are weak. Just as weak as your servants' bodies," she whispered delicately.

Everything froze.

Her rumbling laughter sounding like the chortling of dragons, more demonic and malicious than anything he had ever heard right inside his ear drum. He swallowed. "Yes," she purred. "That's right. My mission was simply to get you to trust me as the only one willing to help you in your time of need. All I had to do was wait until the time was right and so that I could come to you as Anna without ringing any alarms and you would lead me straight to the prophesied one. And it was so easy with all you glorified winged-meat-suits busy focusing on the end of the 'Apocalypse' and grieving over your dead. I just slipped right in and slaughtered all your brothers and sisters.

"But you, you my little baby cousin, went a step further. You practically handed yourself to me on a silver platter. So trusting, you opened yourself up to me like you did when you were that human's whore and gave me all of your knowledge. I have all of your memories, I'm the one who took them. I'm the one who Punished you, Castiel, when you gave me the key to it all. So, really, I ought to thank you. You made my job so much easier."

She half-hummed, half-laughed in thought, trailing her nails down the right side of his cheek. A thin line of red followed until she stopped to tap against his jaw, knocking loose some of his teeth by the consistent pressure. "What to do, what to do...?" she sighed and pinched his cheek more viciously than any well-meaning grandmother. He glared at her helplessly.

"Oh, I know," her eyes flashed darkly and that wide grin split apart her face with all the cruelty and style of lightning. "How about I give them back, one. By. One?" She tapped her fingers against his sore face to accentuate even further. Castiel winced in revulsion.

"No..." he whispered, looking away. If the Breaths were still with him, he could imagine the way they would pull and tug at his insides in the very sense of wrongness emanating from her.

"Don't worry," she hissed, pleased with herself immensely. "I'll make sure it's completely painful," Then she laughed fully and wholly again, a sound that put maniacs to shame as it echoed inside Castiel's frame and violated him with her sadism. The light dimmed around him and did not return for a very long time.

She was behind him again, wrapped frame applying pressure to his stomach and chest that made it uncomfortable to breath, much less make it capable of even the smallest squirm. "Let's start from the beginning, shall we?"

She plucked out a feather with deceptive ease and simplicity. He screamed and spasmed with fiery agony scores more painful than anything he had experienced. He supposed she had withheld his Punishment and was now giving it back to him on top of everything else. But thoughts like that did not stay long. He was drowning in pain, becoming as savage and mindless as a tortured animal. The only thing he was aware of was hurt and the only thing he cared about was getting rid of that hurt.

Then she brushed his decaying black feather against his forehead and he felt like dying.

Memories flew into his mind too fast to comprehend. All except for bright eyes staring at him with fear, confusion, hatred, disgust, sympathy, hurt, exhaustion, pain, hope, want, grief. Images of a human so perfect, so damaged, so very marked by him and smiles, laughs, grunts, scowls, sneers, smirks, groans, grins, whispers. And he knew-he remembered what he had lost ever so slowly.

And then it stopped.

He came to himself, shivering uncontrollably as he wept with tremendous effort. His face was wet and he was sure it was not all saline tears. The strain of even a single plucked feather echoed in the beat of his heart much too fast to be normal. "Please," he begged, forgoing pride or the simple fact that she was his enemy. "Not again,"

"Oh," she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and he winced at the sharp, clear sound. A migraine bloomed in his forehead. "But Cas, we've only just begun."

He whimpered pitifully, in too much pain to make much noise any more as she continued to pluck out his feathers one by one. Her rotten touch blackened them to ash in her hands after she pressed them against the skin of his brow and fried his nerves with over-stimulation. His brittle bones broke and marrow gushed hot and thick. It dripped down his back, burning his flesh through his clothes, and echoed in dissonance of the highest kind as each drop broke upon the ground like the beat of the drum of war. Waves upon waves of memories brutally attacked him, pillaging his mind like ancient warriors plundered conquered lands and people alike.

He submitted to their dominance and fell deep within the recesses of his fading Grace.

"Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"

"Good things do happen, Dean,"

"Not in my experience," Dean said with complete certainty. But the worst part was the gleam of reliving Hell everyday so clear and visible in his eyes as he said that.

He tilted his head to the side with sadness as he spoke. "What's the matter?" He paused just for a moment, scrying the top of his thoughts, and continued with a softer, knowing tone. "You don't think you deserve to be saved."

Dean lowered his head, kept his eyes out of sight. "Why'd you do it?"

"Because God Commanded it," he had said without hesitation...

"Cas, it's Dean."

"Do you need me? Where are you?"

"Yeah. Route 31, it's the basement level of the St. James Medical Centre-" He stops as Castiel appears.

"I'm there now," the Angel says into the device, moving the receiver ever closer to his mouth, to fill the silence of their eyes meeting and speaking. It has only gotten worse-or better depending on your point of view-the longer he works with these humans-with Dean. He is not sure if Dean understands anything, but Castiel does not hold back in these mental conversations. 'I'm here now, Dean. I won't ever leave your side unless you command it of me...don't command it of me'.

"Yeah, I get that," he says, looking suitably unimpressed. Castiel can not read anything off him.

"I'm going to hang up now," he says next, waiting another second with a crease on his forehead, straining to get his message across. 'Dean'.

"...Right," his eyes flicker as he speaks, but Castiel does not dare to hope. Then, a trademark grin of his spread across his face and he feels something tingle in his chest. These feelings he should not be feeling-could not be feeling if he was truly an angel. Yet, he does, he is, because of Dean. His charge that he is too invested in, they say. They can't see how Dean is like a flame, enticing and dangerous and beautiful and mysterious and so very warm. Fragile. Man was gifted with the discovery of fire. Fire was a good thing. So was Dean. He could not be faulted for wanting to discover all that lied within the depths of this gift to angels, within his Dean.

"So, you, uh, gonna hang up or what?" he teases with that mouth. So disrespectful, but so...charming as well. He could easily learn to love that mouth of his-

These thoughts scare him. "I am," he affirms with a jerky nod.

"Then why don't you do it? I'll still be here," his voice is so soft now. Dean has never spoken this way before. It is something to be cherished. He can feel it soothe away his worried mind already.

His brother coughs pointedly. Dean flips his phone shut with a jump, glancing back at him as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Their call ended. Dean was the one to end it, not him. He stares at his communication device with a pondering glance as the time flashes at how long they had spoken. Only 43 seconds. So much in so little amount of time.

"Uh, yeah. So, the, uh, hearts thing," he grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Castiel looks back up at him and they meet eyes once again, but the power of their connection is dulled compared to the electricity of before. Dean gives him a small smile. "Go check it out, Cas,"

He tilts his head at him and eventually nods, moving towards Sam to figure out what mystery plagued the Winchesters now. So many emotions, so very confusing. But pleasing. Yes, definitely that. Even if he did not understand, he would not give these moments up for the world...

Dean suddenly reached across the divide between them in his beloved car, his hands tightly pressing into the sides of his face as he smashed his lips against his. It was hot and fevered as if they were packing a whole life-time of kisses into one moment and it hurt with a delicious intent. He felt teeth nip at him, saving gentle caresses for another time, and Castiel gasped. He fully expected Dean to take advantage of his open mouth but he seemed startled and pulled back as if he was afraid of being caught by a priest-or, perhaps, his father.

"I, uh...so where does this leave us?" he asked, refusing to look at him and instead finger his steering wheel.

"Wherever you want it to, Dean,"

He could feel the shudder rack his body as he glanced at him through the corners of his eyes. "Don't do that to me. I can't-this is all so different to me. I don't know how to handle this,"

"And I do?" He must have snapped angrier than he intended because Dean slid to him with a more apologetic expression.

"Cas, that's not what I meant...I want you, and that scares me," he whispered his secret to the air between them.

"You are not alone, Dean. I will never allow it..."

His eyes flicker again and another decision is made. He still takes in a nervous breath for his nerves, no doubt. "Meet me in the back seat. Now, before I change my mind," Castiel, ever so innocent in the ways of humans first hand-especially that of their depravity-, knew exactly what Dean's less-than-honest intentions were.

He could not say he disapproved.

It was Castiel's turn to shiver once Dean sat beside him in the back seat of his treasured Impala. The air was tense with sexual desire, lust, but there they sat still as statues. "Are you sure that it is okay for me to-for us...?" Dean finally asked, his voice breaking into a rough grumble. He no doubt was remembering their most recent hunt involving the church and the minister's daughter.

"No," Castiel said, tilting his head to view him. He knows much about the debate on homosexuality in the Bible. But God could not be found to clear up the issue once and for all. Truly, it did not matter. Because this Castiel will do and with this human tonight. No force save God himself could stop it from happening, and even then, he was certain he would rebel and Fall for Dean.

"But I want to." And then there was no more discussing. His coat was effortlessly discarded and his tie was flung into the air.

"I want this so badly, I want you so badly," Dean groaned, shrugging off his jacket. His voice dark with lust.

"Yes," he hissed agreement, meeting his lips in a frenzy...

Zachariah would not approve. Namely because it was with Dean that he was committing such sins. But then again, perhaps he would twist it to his liking to force Dean's acceptance as Michael's vessel-something Castiel could no longer desire because Dean would no longer be his and that was unacceptable. Regardless, Zachariah seemed oblivious to this knowledge. And the flushing of their skins, meaningful glances and the improper smirk on Dean's face when the angel offered him anything he wanted.

Sometimes, though, Castiel wondered if his brother knew the truth and only phrased his words like such because he knew Dean would not take him again if he had his blessing.

Dean was oblivious to this worry of his and nothing he did soothed him to comfort. There was no discussing their relationship no matter how subtle Castiel attempted to be and Dean was always in charge, always taking, always receiving. But Castiel would give him anything and everything he wanted. And that contented him for now. Even though he knew he wanted more and felt disturbingly unsatisfied...

Dean's hand traced the outline of his body, stopping rub circles around his hip bones and suck on them. Castiel sucked in a breath, releasing in with a slight hissing quality to a moan. Dean's lips detached themselves with a quiet pop and stretched into a smirk before he lightly scraped his teeth over the sensitive bone and bit hard. Castiel gasped, his erection jumping up and straining achingly against the boxers Dean forced him to still wear.

"Dean..." he whispered. "Please."

"You're gonna have to do better than that, Castiel," he grunted, turning him onto his back and starting on the other side and working the left hipbone with more ferocity. Sucking harder, caressing harder, biting harder, touching harder. Castiel nearly screamed.

"Please, Dean, please...just take me,"

"As you wish," Dean grinned at him and tore off the only piece of clothing separating them. His hands ran down the back of his legs, licking the insides of the angel's thighs teasingly, and propped them up on his shoulders. He closed the distance, his cock pressing against Castiel's hole. "Ready?"

Castiel slide his legs and wrap themselves tightly around him just above his waist in response. He gave him a look, full of eyes blazing a bright unnatural blue in his glare. "Right, forget I asked," Dean chuckled, his cocky attitude forgotten as he pushed inside and moaned...

"Dean. What is this?" Castiel kept looking around at all the people that were trying to be subtle about staring and whispering at them and then back at him. Dean reached out to cover his hand, fuelling the volume of the whispers, and smiled. A genuine smile, the kind that Castiel saw so few of and notably only in his presence. He preened some and felt marginally less ill at ease.

"I-I've been thinking about what you've said," he said quietly after a cough. "And you were right. I need to appreciate you more, I need to show you that. I'm no good at all of these emotions running inside me, and I really hate doing those sappy boyfriend things with all of the-"

He gave Dean a look because, "innocent" angel or not, he would not put up with this-as Dean would say-bullshit. He was tired of being pushed around and denied by Dean in all aspects of their "not" relationship. He had finally disobeyed Dean and started pressing with real authority about his needs, his wants, his desires that the human baulked at because he was uncomfortable in the situation of having a gay relationship and tried dealing with it the only way he was capable of. But Castiel would no longer sit for that. Nor the direction he words were going.

"-Um, you know. But it's not an excuse," he added hastily."It's a warning that it will take time for me to be what you want, what I want to be for you."

"I know you've been trying," Castiel said, trying to show his appreciation through a gentler tone but he still took his hands away to prove that he could and would enforce his demands. "And you know just what you've done. There is no reason for you to do any of this when it was much more efficient to simply tell me at home..." he paused, taking a leap and using Dean's words-spoken so many times when Dean wanted to hide their liaison or scold him for his forwardness-to show exactly how serious he was. He would not leave Dean-could not-but he was also capable of denying him, too. "In private."

Dean surprised him, though. "Yes there is," he rasped. "You want it.

A wonderful flush of happiness burst through his skin and he glanced back at Dean with hope for his new-found maturity. "You want to be here, out in public, out to the world. I know I've been doing it wrong; it's as hard for you as it is for me, and you haven't once complained. Cas," he shook his head. "God, Cas, I abused you and you were an angel about it all, no pun intended."

He did not entirely appreciate the comment, but Dean seemed to be expecting that and smiled brighter. Castiel forgave him. He loved that smile of his; he would do anything for that smile. "We are in a relationship. A real, working, girly-love-fest relationship. That means I have to stop being so god-damn selfish all the time. It's your turn. What do you want from me?"

Castiel thought careful over this. A million things went through his mind that he immediately dismissed. He did not want to waste this chance, but he knew he could not afford to push Dean to fast lest he chance breaking everything that they had. That left a very tantalizing option, though.

Now he understood the merits of smirking when one had a lecherous thought. He did not do so, of course. He simply said, "I want to Punish you, Dean,", carried him away to Bobby's home-conveniently on a sufficiently hard enough surface to leave lasting marks-and proceeded to give him a lesson he would never forget.

Oddly, it was a lesson that both Bobby and Sam seemed never to forget as well...

Dean did change. Slowly, at first, then more rapidly as time went on. He was more open to experimenting-in bed as well as with his affections out in public that was met with equal exhilaration and joy. They had, now, become so obvious that Sam's comments about how "sickeningly cute" they were were now tolerated with a shrug and a grin tossed to Castiel. And Dean seemed...happier, lighter, more carefree and less burdened when he was around Castiel. Which made Castiel want to Sing to Heaven with Happiness. And because Dean was so happy, Sam stopped being as broody and Bobby finally relaxed the tension in his shoulders a little.

"Missed you, Cas," Dean said almost playfully, launching himself from the bed to stand close by him with a crooked grin.

Castiel smiled back. Softly, shyly. This form of Dean he was not used to.

Not used to, but very much appreciative of. He wondered what exactly had gone on while he was away.

"I was busy with other duties,"

"Too busy for me?" There is a marked difference with these words. His act of playfulness is breaking. So he rushes to assure him because though Dean may be strong and confident in many areas, he has been hurt and broken. He sees this, he has always seen this, and it is something that Castiel loves about Dean. Vulnerability, resilience; human paradoxes.

"Never too busy for you, Dean." He initiates their contact this time; Dean lets him, it is part of his change. Castiel presses his lips in a touch against Dean's, drawing him close while his charge shakes with his head bowed. He frowns. He does not enjoy seeing him in this posture but he is unsure of what would help. "Dean," he breathed, his fingers slipping through his hair and running over his forehead. He tries to send him his calm, speak to him of comfort.

Dean sighed once and looked up at him with wet eyes. Castiel feels like melting and breaking someone or something at the same time. "Gabriel-Gabriel was a dick, no offence, him being your brother and all, but he was...decent. He made up for it in his way, the idiot," He can feel a smile curve his lips. Dean's words often said more than he would admit.

"Well-he didn't deserve to die. Not like that. I mean, we weren't there when he died but we could-I could still see the light," he said choking up and Castiel echoed his sadness. He knew he lost a brother even from his distance. He and Gabriel were much like Dean and Sam and Dean knew that parallel existed. It was probably why Gabriel's death was affecting him so.

"Cas," he was begging now with no idea of what. His confusion and desperation was evident. "Cas, I can't-I can't see you die. I can't be the cause of it. I couldn't live with myself knowing you died for me, because of me. So, you-you need to go away. You have to leave us, me, the humans to our own devices. Go back to Heaven, go back to where you belong, please. I don't want you here-"

Castiel cut him off with a much more furious kiss. 'I told him not to command me to leave...' he thought to himself, fuelling his passion. Dean whimpered under his dominion, showing how clearly he lied as he kissed back. "Dean," he murmured into his forehead, pressing kisses there as Dean held onto fistfuls of his trenchcoat.

"I belong with you and-" he gave him a pointed look with an eyebrow raised. "What makes you think I could bear to see you die when I could have prevented it?" his voice dipped into lower ranges and Dean shivered this time not out of emotional turmoil.

"Fuck me," he changed his plea, alternatively sucking marks onto Castiel's neck. "I need you. I waited for you after all this. Now come fuck me,"

"With pleasure," he purred, transporting them onto the bed in an instant.

"That's cheating," Dean teased. Castiel just vanished their clothes in response...

"Cas, you know- you know that I..." Dean fumbled with the words he was trying to say, lying naked next to Castiel. He cocked his head and watched his entire body darken with embarrassment and even a little lust as his gaze went not unnoticed. But Castiel understood and put him out of his misery.

"Yes, Dean, I do know. I feel the same way," he grinned at him hungrily, preparing to echo Dean's words from before. "Now come fuck me,"

Dean did the same with him, his cocky grin back in place. "With pleasure," he said, digging his fingers down the length of his back. Castiel moaned...

Dean had left after copulation precisely fifteen minutes ago and wound up at an empty park-illegally as it was after dark, but Castiel chose to ignore that-seemingly to brood in the dark by himself. Whatever nonsense that was going on in his mind appeared to be working.

"Why am I here?" he whispered, obviously to himself.

He sat beside him and could not stop the temptation to answer him with a sideways glance and contemplative but slightly accusing tone. "I don't know. I had thought that, since you didn't run from me the first few times, you wouldn't any other time. Am I to be a...five-night stand of yours, Dean?"

He could sense Dean's inner conflict arise once again, but at least most of his gloomy atmosphere had dissipated upon his arrival. That fact pleased him immensely. "Why do you love me, Cas, and I mean really love me?" he asked suddenly.

Castiel looked away to get his bearings and give him the most complete, honest answer he could. He viewed the scenery and thought of the beauty of this world his Father had created. He quickly flickered back to Dean and thought of the beauty Father had created in him. There was no comparison. Dean simply burned brighter. He hid the smile his quirking lips tried to expose but moving his gaze to his hands until he was sure he could remain straight-faced next time he looked upon him. He was sure Dean would not take well to his implications of what the smile could be about. Sometimes there was no arguing with his faulty thinking.

"I, uh, I don't know that either," he said, but really what he meant was 'I don't know how to explain it to you in a way you would understand'. Because how could he understand the difference, the freedom he had here on Earth when he had never experienced life in Heaven? How could he understand the transformation he underwent, the utter gift of emotions Dean had shared with him when he had always felt these things?

"You were my charge, I was the one appointed the task of raising you from perdition. Uriel scolded me from the start because he thought I gripped you too tightly." He paused here for emphasis, making sure Dean had time to comprehend every last bit of what he was saying with a soulful look. Then, and only then, he reached for his hands to place tender affection to each of his fingers. These remarkable things capable of so much, he loved them as much as he loved his mouth and his lips and his eyes; as much as any part of Dean.

"But when I saw you, even at your lowest, I knew that there was something that deserved to be saved inside you, Dean. And I will Fall to preserve that for you." Here he stood, feeling Dean's burning gaze on him at all times, and addressed the sky or maybe Heaven for this part as well to explain to his brothers.

"Man was not made to be perfect. Angels were; and even we have our faults. My fault seems to be feeling too much, loving you too much. Yours is giving up too much of yourself for others. If anything, you may be too perfect for this world, Dean, remember that,"

An inappropriate comment appeared in his mind and he shook his head inwardly. Dean was rubbing off on him too much, it seems. He turned back to share this moment of sly thinking. "I'll be waiting in the car for you to give some more of yourself to me."

That wonderful smile of his bloomed all over his face. "Did an Angel of the Lord just give me the longest pick-up line ever?"

"Did it work?" he asked with a grin. It seemed so since Dean took the steps to close the distance between him and kiss him sweetly.