Oh. You guys make me feel so loved! I'm so happy you're enjoying this story. This is the most fun I've had writing in a long time. :D. Also, I apologize for the delay on getting this chapter out. First I was cleaning for like an entire day and then the friggen internet went out and the company wouldn't come and fix it for a while. So…I posted this as soon as I got the chance.

This chapter will contain a pointless little Sam and Dean childhood memory…I just HAD to go there. I guess when you feed your muse jelly bellies and red bull, it comes out with this. O.o

To bug you one more time…I really sincerely apologize for how badly written this chapter will be. I tried over and over to get it to sound right and it just won't. :/…I have a severe case of the writer's block.

Okay, on with it.

. . .

Chapter 30: Dust in the Wind; Part 6:

Castiel gasped when he felt the pressure release his wing. He quickly jumped up to his feet only to find himself slammed into the wall beside him. He winced when splinters from the wood paneling pierced into his wings. He took a deep, shaky breath before opening his eyes; Michael was just inches from him; his wings were glorious, sparkling in colors of deep ocean blue with shimmering silver encrusted through the creases and tips. They were arched forward, their immense power pinning Castiel's wings against the wall. Michael's hands were latched onto Castiel's shoulders, holding the body in place.

"Do you really want Dean to turn on you?" Michael asked, his voice filled with curiosity and irritation, "Why would you stop me? We could have saved him."

Castiel tried to thrash his wings and shake from Michael's grip but it was pointless; Michael was angry and that never ended well. Instead, he let out a whimpering sound before sighing and giving up. He stared into the fierce blue eyes of the eldest archangel "I'm sorry, Michael…it might kill him. I don't want to risk that."

Michael loosened slightly and shook his head. He didn't understand why a mere human could mean so much "If he died, we could bring him back, Castiel."

"That's not the point," Castiel said, not bothering to try and escape his brother's clutch anymore. He narrowed his eyes at Michael with a piercing look "I don't want to see him die at all. You think dying is no big deal."

Michael huffed out in exasperation "It's not…not when there are four archangels here."

"Please Michael," Castiel said, his big blue eyes widening in worry.

Michael sighed and released the younger angel. He turned to see Gabriel still holding a Sam that looked ready to tear the heart out of every person in the room. His eyes were dark and he was gritting his teeth so hard that every person in the room could hear it. His hair was wild and it clung to his slightly sweat-slicken forehead.

Gabriel felt bad for restraining Sam but he knew if he didn't, Sam would have lost it and probably would have open fired on every person in the room. That would only end badly for the humans who could get hurt in the process.

"Am I the only one here that even cares about the fact that Dean just drank my blood like chocolate milk?" Lucifer suddenly asked, cradling his bleeding black wing in his hands. He brushed a thumb across the soaked feathers, healing them slightly before letting it curl back behind him.

"You were warned that could happen," Adeline said, turning to him, her green eyes filled with boredom.

"Let go of me," Sam growled, thrashing in Gabriel's grip.

Gabriel took a deep breath and unfurled his wings to release Sam and just as expected, he was met by a fist to the face. He winced, surprised at how much it actually hurt; he admitted he deserved it, though.

"Can someone please explain to me what is happening to my brother before I kill every one of you," Sam said, turning to meet the gaze of each person in the room. He was heated that they were just debating about Dean dying or not like it was a Sunday football game.

"What the hell is going on?" another voice asked with a mixture of irritation and concern.

Bobby stood in the doorway with one bag in his arm and another in his hand. He glowered at the disaster that was his living room and kitchen. Two walls had holes through them, leaving sheetrock to scatter across the floor; the wood paneling on the other side of the room was smashed inwards, leaving shards of wood around it. He could see blood trickled across the hardwood floor. He glared over at Michael and Lucifer "Get out of my house, asshats!" he shouted, recalling how much those two archangels endangered all of their lives.

"Dean is in trouble and he needs our help," Michael said calmly, earning a glower from Castiel.

"What?" Bobby asked, now feeling concern as he placed the bags onto the counter in the kitchen. He scanned the room to find no Dean so he set his eyes on Sam, who looked about ready to blow up.

Castiel took a deep breath as Michael explained the situation to Sam and Bobby. He closed his eyes, trying to track Dean but it was like trying to find a grain of salt in a pile of sugar. He bit down on his lip and as he tried to concentrate on their bond…it felt like crawling through a small, black tunnel. It was somewhat suffocating and he could feel his power start to dwindle in the process …it took a moment of emptiness before he could see a faint glowing white light. His heart jumped when he felt a little tug and without a word of warning, she shot out his wings and disappeared.

. . .

Dean took a deep breath as he paced the park. His blood was rushing in his veins, making him feel too hot beneath his skin. All he could think about was the way Lucifer's blood tasted. It was so luxurious and sweet and it would have been perfect except for the fact that it was unusually chilled. He always thought blood would be warm but…oh no, Lucifer's was so cold but still refreshing. Like a glass of ice cold water in the middle of the desert. Another wave of heat rushed through him at that thought and he felt his mouth water with desire for more. He could feel a tingling in his gums and teeth while his head spun.

"Dammit," he hissed, clenching his fists as his mind scanned for what could possibly be happening. Those stupid angels didn't explain anything to him.

He growled and kicked up a patch of grass, leaving dirt to cloud the air around him. This was ridiculous…he just drank the blood of an angel and enjoyed it…far too much than he was comfortable with. He sighed and examined the area. He had been here a once, many years ago. He and Sam had snuck out of the motel room while their father was out. Dean wanted to let Sam have a few hours of being young and innocent like he had been at the time.

The park appeared just as it had then but now it was barren and empty…it had the impression of being abandoned. A picnic table sat on the grass beside where the sand started. It was old and weathered and looked as though a brush of wind the wrong way would make it crumble to the ground. The sand in the box was hard and dark, most likely from a rainfall the night before. There was an obstacle of slides, monkey bars and little plastic 'rock climbing' walls all bunched up into a set of an array of bright colors, hidden beneath a layer of mud. He turned his eyes to see a swing set with two swings on it. The chains and bars were rusted and one of the brown seats was broken and hanging limply, one side to the sand. The other was normal but still looked unsteady; Dean sluggishly walked over, his boots crunching the sand beneath him. He gently sat on the swing, which formed around his lower body. His feet touched the sand below him but he didn't care.

For a moment, he just sat there, rocking back and forth slightly on the swing. He let his wings unfurl in the breeze but kept them hidden from other people's eyes. He took a long breath and smiled as the memories formed into his mind.

. . .

"Dean," Sam called, his voice low but young.

Dean turned to see Sammy sitting on the swing, his legs just barely touching the light and squishy sand below him. He wore a bright smile, his long hair wispy in his face and his eyes glimmering in the sunlight. He had his hands clutched onto the steel chains as he pulled them back and forth while kicking out his feet, trying to get moving. He was no older than six years old.

"What is it, Sammy?" Dean asked, standing up from the picnic table and walking over. The sun was bright and beat on his skin warmly.

"Could you please give me a push? I wanna' go really high," Sam said, his eyes forming into a puppy dog look.

Dean smiled and laughed "Use those long legs of yours," he said.

"Please…it doesn't work…I just need a push to get going," Sam said, his eyes widening slightly more.

Dean sighed but a smile remained on his face as he walked behind his brother. Sam let out a little excited sound before straightening on the swing and holding his legs straight in front of him so they wouldn't break the push.

Dean felt amazing to see Sammy so happy. It was rare that they ever did anything like this. He grabbed onto the chains and walked backwards, pulling Sam up as high as he could. Sam kicked his legs slightly in excitement.

Dean grinned, "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes!" Sam said quickly.

"Okay," Dean said before letting go of the chains and giving a shove to Sam's lower back.

He watched as his little brother let out a little noise of excitement and surprise as he swung forward, his feet almost reaching higher than his head in the process as he began to swing.

A smile tugged the corners of Dean's lips as he walked back to the picnic table, keeping a sharp eye on his little brother in the process. After a few moments, he scanned over the park once, noticing a few other kids crawling over the obstacles and others playing in the sand. He watched them for a moment before turning back to the swings; his heart jumped when he realized Sam was gone, leaving nothing but a empty swing moving in the wind.

He jumped to his feet, stomach turning and heart racing "Sam?" he asked loudly, scanning every inch of the park.

"Sam!" he called again once he heard nothing. Fear seeped into him like ice and his heart beat loudly in his ears.

He spun around and a chill shot through him when he noticed the figure of Sam standing in the middle of the field, his eyes set on someone beside him. Dean ground his teeth and ran over "Sammy!" he said.

"What's wrong, Dean?" Sam asked, confusion clear on his happy face.

Dean stopped when he got close and he was about to lecture Sam on running off like that but his eyes set on their father standing there, arms crossed over his chest and eyes filled with anger.

"Sam, get in the car," John said, pointing to the Impala that Dean now noticed was gleaming, sleek and black on the road beside them.

"Okay," Sam said, his voice quiet as he lowered his head in disappointment.

"And lock the door," John added as Sam ran off to the car.

"Dad," Dean said, knowing he was going to get in trouble.

"What were you thinking? I told you to stay in the motel room," John said, his voice filled with irritation.

"I wanted to bring Sammy to the park…he is just a child, Dad. He deserves to have a few hours of fun," Dean defended "I was watching him."

"Apparently you weren't," John said in disappointment "What if it wasn't me who took him. That could have been anyone. What would you do then?"

Dean didn't say anything…he couldn't think of anything. Instead, he just stared down for a moment. He turned his eyes back to his father "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"It better not. I care about you boys and there are monsters out there," John said "Now go get in the car."

Dean nodded "Yes sir," he said before turning and walking over to the Impala.

. . .

Dean snapped back into reality when he felt another presence nearing. He turned to see the white aura of an angel. He groaned and jumped up from the swing, grabbing at the gun he had tucked in his belt. He pointed it to where the light was forming into a figure.

He sighed and relief pooled inside of him when he noticed that it was Castiel who stood there, his wings erect and the colors blended in a mixture of anxiety and fear. He glanced around for a moment before his cerulean eyes met emerald, "Dean," he said and Dean lowered the gun and smiled when he could see his angel visibly relax, letting his wings lower behind him.

"I've been looking for you," Castiel said, quickly closing the space between them. Dean slid the gun back into its place and threw his arms around his angel. He closed his eyes as he relished in the feel of those silky soft wings curling around him; hesighed into Castiel when he felt smooth, gentle fingers brush all over his wings. Oh how he loved the way that felt. It was sending warm jolts of pleasure through his body.

He sucked in a deep breath and suddenly froze in place when he caught the sweet, alluring aroma coming from the angel. He felt that hunger again and thought about the apple pie filling taste that was Lucifer. He licked his lips then shook his head before yanking out of Castiel's grip.

Castiel tilted his head at Dean, who pulled away, his eyes glowing slightly with an emerald metallic…that was new. His eyes were becoming more metallic as the moments passed "You okay, Dean?" he asked.

"Cas…please don't come near me," Dean said, trying not to sound mean but that's how it came out. He felt bad the instant he saw the hurt in Castiel's eyes.

"I'm sorry…but I really don't want to go Edward on you," Dean said, holding out a hand when Castiel stepped forward.

Castiel tilted his head again "Edward?" he asked.

"I don't want to hurt you," Dean said quickly.

"Oh," Castiel said as recognition formed into those eyes. He stared down for a moment, the feathers on his wings twitching "Is there anything else you might want?"

Dean shook his head "I want this to end," he said, falling back onto the swing. He placed his face in his hands and groaned.

Castiel felt his stomach turn as he reached into his pocket where the syringeof green liquid sat. He had taken it from Michael while he was pinned to the wall. He debated on giving it to Dean…he couldn't think of anything else and if the infection went on any further, Dean could do worse than drink a few mouthfuls of blood.

Dean lifted his head up when he felt yet another presence closing in. He darted his eyes over to where about four of those evil Tink things were floating from the woods beside them. He sighed and stood up just as they closed in, their dark purple lights glimmering in the murky day.

"King!" one of the things shouted as they reached him.

Castiel jerked his head up when he sensed the creatures nearby. He felt his wings shoot out in defense as he watched the little things flying over to Dean. He felt a fury pulsing through him as he stormed over.

"Cas no," Dean suddenly said, turning to see Castiel stop in his tracks. His wings were arched up as high and wide as they could go and were sparking with anger. Dean realized it looked similar to lightning flashing through a midnight sky. He could even see what looked like deep red trickling through in swivels like veins. Dean stared for a moment, awestruck by how hot they looked on Castiel.

"King, what should we do?" one of the Tink-things asked.

Dean turned and noticed that one of the things was much larger. She had blonde hair and green eyes. Behind her were the three others; one was a male with dark brown hair and blue eyes; the other two were female, one with red hair and the other with a lighter shade of blonde. Their little black wings all fluttered impatiently for him to give order. His stomach turned and he felt somewhat bad for them. Maybe they were all such good little fairies before being turned into monsters. He remembered when he was turned into a vampire that one time. He had no choice and even came really close to feeding…to hurting someone he cared about.

"Dean, they will do whatever you tell them," Castiel said, trying everything in his power not to smite those disgusting creatures "They will all kill themselves if you tell them to."

Dean glared at Castiel "Why would I want them to do that?" he asked "That's messed up."

Castiel felt his heart sink at the realization that it may have been too late. If Dean cared about them already then he might never want to go back. He might want to be with them.

Dean turned back to the evil Tinks. They were all glowering at the angel hungrily, licking their lips occasionally. Okay, that was something Dean would not deal with. Nobody got to look at Castiel like that…ever.

"Listen here, as you're 'King', I am telling you to get every single one of your kind together," Dean said slowly and the four things perked up to listen. They nodded and urged him to go on.

` "Then what should we do?" the bigger Tink asked.

Dean thought about it for a moment "Then I want every one of you to go to Hell," he said "And I want you to stay there until I come and say you can leave."

Their eyes widened but they all nodded "Is there anything you would like us to do in Hell?"

Dean grinned, "Find Crowley," he said "He is the King of Hell. I want you to follow him around as much as you can."

The four things nodded, "And what about feeding?"

"If you can, feed on the demons you find," Dean said slowly "But do not infect any other being ever again."

They all nodded and waited for another moment.

"Anything else, King?" the blonde Tink asked.

"Nope, now go," Dean said, waving a hand.

All four of the creatures disappeared and Dean turned to see Castiel standing there, slightly more relaxed. His wings weren't sparking any more but they were still alert. He had a slight smile on his face though.

"Do you think it'll work?" Dean asked, walking over slowly.

"I think that Crowley is going to be very upset," Castiel said, his soft cerulean eyes filled with joy as he let his wings curl to touch Dean slightly.

Dean gently caressed one of the wings, causing Castiel to let out a small purr. He then slid his hand into the trench coat pocket to pull out the syringe. He lifted it up "I was talking about this," he said, inspecting the glowing green fluid. His instincts once again told him to back away but he didn't.

Castiel felt his heart sink when he noticed the needle in Dean's hand. He licked his lips and stared down "I honestly have no idea," he said.

"I'll try it," Dean said slowly, his stomach turning at the thought. He honestly didn't want to die again but he also didn't want to become a nasty monster like those Tink-things.

"Dean," Castiel said cautiously.

"There is nothing else we can do, Cas. If it doesn't work than whatever; either this crap kills me or my brother has to kill me," Dean said firmly, clasping the syringe in his hand tightly when Castiel tried to grab it.

Castiel nodded slowly, knowing Dean had a valid point. He took a deep breath "Then we should find the others first. Perhaps ask Adeline about the side effects it had on fairies," he said.

Dean nodded "Yeah…" he said, forcing a smile when he felt the Castiel's hand on his shoulder. He gave him a slow nod before they set off back to Bobby's house.

. . .

I honestly am so soo sorry for how crappy this chapter came out. Arg I wish I wasn't so blocked.

Please, reviews would still be awesome. They can usually help me out of a funk.

Also, does anyone have suggestions on getting out of a block? I've tried music already and meh.

And, I seriously don't know how I'm going to have the green stuff turn out. What would you wonderful people like to see? Does it kill him or not? I still don't know. Hehe.

Crowley may make an appearance next chapter. O.o