Happy New Years everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please tell me what you think, I love to hear from anyone. My story is also coming close to an end! Thank you everyone for reading :)

Dean looked up from the couch he was lounging on when he heard a little rap at the door. Calcifer had left to do something else, probably something to so with his duty as person in charge. Sam and Dean were lying around, still trying to figure out how the hell they could feel well rested, after all this was wearing them thin. Dean looked toward the door and saw Castiel, looking concerned as he had knocked on a wood beam.

"I'm sorry for stopping by so abrupty, but I just wanted to check and make sure you were all okay," He said, standing in the doorway as if he were ready to leave at any second if it upset Dean. Dean immediately felt bad that Cas was going to such lengths to respect his wishes. What had he ever done to deserve such a thoughtful, sweet friend?

"Come in, Cas." Dean said, and almost laughed aloud at the relief that dropped into his face. Really, he was such a sweetheart to him, which made him feel even worse for yelling and upsetting Castiel, who had done nothing but wait for him.

"So are you guys made up?" Sam asked, and Cas cocked his head to the side. Oh, right. That had been Dean's cover-up.

"Um, yeah." Dean answered, and that hurt expression returned to Sam's face. Why didn't he open up to him about what was really going on?

"You look spent." He said, observing both of them with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock." Dean replied, to which Castiel kept that narrow-eyed confused expression. Dean cracked a smile. That was the Cas he knew.

"I could show you something I do to rest," Castiel offered helpfully. Sam and Dean perked up. "Really?"

Castiel came farther into the cabin and sat down, closing his eyes. "I told you we watched over the earth. So, if you concentrate hard enough, sometimes you can just watch and observe. It's very relaxing." He said, making sure to keep somewhat of a distance from Dean.

Dean and Sam looked up, kind of confused. "How?" Dean asked, somewhat frustrated at the lack of instruction.

"I'm not quite sure. It kind of just happens." Sam and Dean shut their eyes, trying to do who knows what for a second. Dean peeked his eyes open and looked at Sam, who happened to be glancing at him in the same second. They smiled and couldn't help it, they started laughing a little. Then, Dean felt the unmistakable presence of two old, strong graces appear- Gabriel and Michael.

"I should go," Sam said quickly, standing up and getting out of the cabin. Even though everything seemed alright between Samandriel and Gabriel for now, he just needed to be sure.

That left Cas and Dean. Castiel looked at him with an uncomfortable expression. "I could leave if you'd like."

"No, stay. And I wanted to say that I'm sorry that I yelled at you. You don't have to stay away anymore if you don't want to."

Castiel looked relieved again.

"I understand why you yelled. You were afraid. " He said, coming up to sit next to Dean on the couch. He hesitated before speaking up again. "Is this okay?" He asked softly.

Dean felt horrible. He was such an asshole sometimes. "You're fine, Cas. I'm sorry I've been such an asshole, and you've been nothing but understanding. You don't deserve that from me." They were silent for a second, their legs touching lightly as they sat together. Cas had his eyes closed; at first Dean thought he was angry, but then it occurred to him that he must be doing that watching thing he was trying to tell them how to do earlier. Dean closed his eyes as well, and somehow when he opened them he was back on Earth in a place he'd never been before.

"You're not really there," Cas spoke up from next to him. No one around them acknowledged that he had spoken. "We're only watching."

Dean looked around- they were in a quaint little town, standing on the sidewalk outside of a coffee shop. People milled about, walking with leisurely gaits as if it were a sleepy town where time ran slower than most places. People walked home, their arms full of groceries. A student dropped their papers, and someone else crouched to help pick them up. People chatted happily around them, sitting at tables with steaming coffee. Someone rode by on a bike. Modern cars slowed and squeezed by on the old brick roads that were narrow from being built so long ago. An older woman leaned out the window and watered the flowers on her windowsill. Another window wafted steam, and the shadows of shampoo bottles could be seen in the foggy window. A little dog barked at a stray cat digging in an overturned trashcan.

"It's hard to imagine watching over humans and not falling in love with them as a whole," Castiel spoke up softly, looking all around him. "Even when they don't think they're being watched, they can be such kind beings."

As if to demonstrate it, a young woman noticed that a cement covering was slightly open, and she pushed it so that no one would trip, and was on her way.

The two were quiet for a long time, just watching. A young man and the barista exchanged telephone numbers. A college kid clacked away on his laptop. A jogger went by, smiling at the college student.

"People live so quickly, they never realize that they are connected to everyone around them. See that jogger and that college student? They finally meet when they are fifty and at a bank robbery at the same time, and later get married after their first marriages don't work out." Dean was able to see it clearly once Cas pointed it out.

"Do you always do this?" Dean asked, finding it strangely rewarding to just stand as watch as the day unfolded for the people around them.

"Sometimes. I haven't been able to lately, but it used to be my full time job. I miss it sometimes." He looked at Dean one more time, and everything melted softly away to the dull interior of their cabin.

Cas smiled at him, and Dean grinned slightly back. "Do you feel better now?" He asked, and Dean realized he was feeling better. A lot better, like he'd finally had that long night's sleep he'd been craving.

"It's in our nature to want to watch, to obeserve our earth. We start to feel strange if we don't check in every now and then." Cas explained, relieved that Dean looked like he was feeling better.

"Thanks," Dean said, and without thinking he reached out and gently held Cas's hand. Cas looked surprised and a little bit confused, but let him anyway.

"I'm sorry I've been such a dick. You haven't done anything wrong to me, and I treated you like crap."

Cas took a leap of faith and leaned over to rest his head on Dean's shoulder. When Dean didn't object, Cas closed his eyes and smiled. "It's okay. I wanted to give you time to figure yourself out. I could see that you were hurting, that you were upset and fearful." Dean leaned his cheek onto Cas's head, and he smiled just a little as he felt his chest puffing up.

"I lied, Cas. I'm not ashamed of you." He closed his eyes as well, and he felt Cas slowly, comfortingly stroking his hand that he held with his thumb. "I'm going to tell Sam."

Dean felt Cas's happiness permeate the air right away. They stayed like that for a long time, saying absolutely nothing as they leaned onto each other, Cas's head on Dean's shoulder and Dean resting his cheek onto the dark head of hair.

Dean felt so much more different around Cas than any other girl he'd been with in the past. Just sitting here with him, just holding hands and leaning onto each other, he felt happier and more content than he'd been with a lot of the women he'd slept with. He realized he really had to love him more than any girl too; they did so many things together, crazy things for each other. Dean had only kissed Cas once, he hadn't even been able to see it, and he still loved him more than a girl that he'd kiss and sleep with the same day. And the thought and worry about how to get rid of them in the morning never ran through his mind like after his many toot 'n boots. He really, really wanted him to stay. And unlike with Lisa, this was self-generated,he was not trying to respect a deceased Sam's wishes by staying with her. The two perked up when sirens began to sound.

"They have sirens?" Dean said, and they scrambled to get up and go outside. People were rushing around, speaking quickly to each other and running to shut themselves inside their cabins.

"This is a Grade C lockdown. Proceed to stay inside your cabins until we say that it is safe to come out. Pro-apocalypse has begun phase 1 of mental warfare. I repeat, mental warfare has been initiated."

Calcifer was leading Sam back into their cabin tightly by the arm as many angels hustled around them, bumping them a few times.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean asked Calcifer, who had a very stern expression on. "Get inside. Now." He ordered,pushing them to back up inside and he latched the door. He began firing off an explanation quickly, as if they didn't have much time.

"The other side knows they're outnumbered, and they don't want to lose. They're not stupid, either. This is their last attempt to even the playing field, their last hoorah. They want to exploit what they see as our weakness, our emotions. They don't need to be in our network to get into our heads, much like how we can still manipulate humans without them being connected to us. Sam, you would probably understand the best after what Lucifer did to you after you got out."

Sam visibly shuddered. "Is that what they're trying to do?" He asked fearfully.

"Possibly. From what we've seen so far, they get into your head and will dig up your deepest desire, and if you give in to it you'll willing trap yourself in your own head. Well, that's if you're lucky." All three of their faces fell at those last words.

"What do you mean 'if we're lucky'?" Dean demanded.

"They seem to, uh... have a different strategy. It-"

Dean suddenly was knocked out mid-sentence. He barely even had a second to realize he was falling before he was somewhere else.

He blinked his eyes a few times, just to make sure what he was seeing was really there. Just a second ago he had been in a dingy canvas and wood cabin in heaven. Now, he stood outside on the sidewalk, looking up at his childhood home. Snow was piled over everything and scraped off of sidewalks, and christmas lights hung from the banisters around the balcony. He felt an absence of weight on his shoulder blades, and he realized his wings were gone, he was completely human, and an alive one at that.

He heard talking and laughter and saw movement inside, so he decided to go in. It seemed like a dream, but every detail was so sharp that he felt it had to be real. He gripped the cold doorknob and pushed the door open. He was met with the gazes from his whole family. There was Sam, of course, but he was bouncing his son who looked eerily like Samandriel on his knee. Jess was next to him, and her belly was big with another kid on the way. His mom and dad were there, looking beautiful in their old age. They were drinking champagne and were talking quietly, laughing even. Adam was there too, holding another kid on his lap. The kid jumped up right when he saw Dean and ran to get another little boy, taking him gently by the hand away from whatever he was playing with and coming up to Dean.

"Daddy!" He said, hugging Dean around the knees. Dean looked down at the boy's faces, and he could see pieces of himself there. In the back of his mind, he knew things like this couldn't be possible. Adam wouldn't exist if his mother had never died. There was no way he could have kids- he died himself. In fact, everyone in this room was dead. Remember? Dean knew a few things didn't add up, but he didn't care. Things were so lovely and perfect that he wanted them to be real. And all this amazing detail- nothing was hazy like in a dream.

"I'm afraid you've just missed dinner," Mary spoke up. Dean looked at her, and loved that she had gray hairs mixing in with the blonde, and that age had softened her blue eyes and the skin on her face. He never thought he'd be able to see her this age, to see her this happy.

"It's alright, I'm not very hungry." Dean replied, looking into the children's round faces again. Names floated into his mind as if they were real people- the older one was Robert John Winchester, but his nickname was Robbie. He had pitch black hair, pale skin and deep green eyes. He was five years old, and the older brother to the little boy he'd taken by the hand earlier, who was three.

He had sandy blonde hair that went into his eyes like Sam's had when he was that age. He had a string of freckles across his cheeks, and burning deep blue eyes. Leoniel Samuel Winchester. Dean liked the way his name rolled in a sing-song way; Lee-on-ee-el. With a name like that, they just called him Leo. But he realized with a jolt- Cas must have named this kid. And with those blue eyes and freckles and dark blonde hair...

It was utterly impossible. But that didn't mean that Dean wished with every fiber of his being for it to be possible. For all of this to be real.

"Why don't you take the kids to bed? Santa's coming tonight, and he's got a busy schedule!" Grandpa John said, and Dean loved that he looked so content, so much more lighthearted than he really had been in life.

"Santa's coming!" Leo piped up in an adorably high pitched voice.

"You better get to bed before he sees you and gives you coal for peeking!" Dean teased, making roaring noises as he picked up Leoniel and swung him over his shoulder. His giggling sharply cut into the air as he kicked his legs. Dean began to head to the stairway, pretending like was going to fall over as he swayed Leo on his shoulder. "Whoa-a-a!" He joked, and Leo shrieked and punched his tiny fists into his shoulder. "Stop that, dad!"

Robbie had already bolted to the top of the stairs and was bouncing on his feet. "Can you read us a story in your bed tonight? We like the big bed. Leo told me he does too!" Robbie said, pulling on the bottom of Dean's shirt in the direction.

"Okay, okay." Dean said, smiling. This was everything he'd ever wanted rolled into one. The truth was he never liked christmas because he knew it would never be as great as the one he was living right now.

He silently followed where Robbie led him, into his bedroom. He set Leo down on the bed as Robbie ran to the corner to grab a book. Dean climbed onto the bed and rested his back on the headboard, and Leoniel snuggled up to his side, Robbie handing him the book and doing the same on the other side, so that Dean felt he was in a little boy sandwich.

Dean cracked open the book, and was ready to read the first line, when Robbie took the book from him quickly, scolding him. "We have to wait for Papa, silly!" He scolded with one pointing finger, like Dean did sometimes.

Dean heard footsteps outside, and was astonished when he saw who walked in. Castiel came in the room, holding a little baby who had to be a little younger than a year old. She had wispy white-blonde hair, and Dean knew without looking at her that she had her grandma's soft, baby blue eyes. Mary Ellen Winchester. Dean felt himself tear up a little bit: a little girl, and two boys that were like him and Sam. And somehow, in this reality, it was with the person he loved more than anyone else.

"You better not be thinking about starting without me," Cas smiled, bouncing the baby slightly in his arms.

"He tried to but I told him no, no, no." Robbie spoke up as Cas slid to sit next to him. Dean smiled and opened the book for the second time.

"Twas the night before christmas, and all through the house..." He paused, suddenly remembering where he needed to be. But it was so cold and violent and bleak up there in reality. Dean felt like he never wanted to leave this perfect, dollhouse life. He zoomed somewhat close to consciousness, knowing that right now, he was not on a comfy bed with kids all around him, but passed out on the hard, cold wood floor in a cabin in heaven.

"Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse."

He stopped for real this time, and was met with confused glances from both his boys. He wanted to stay here forever, of course he did. But he needed to get back to heaven, he needed to help the real Cas and the real Sam.

"Why did you stop?" Robbie asked, blinking those wide, sparkling green eyes.

Dean reached up and stroked Leo's dark blonde hair. He felt the soft texture, saw every little change in the light as his hand passed over, he saw that round little face that was a blend of features from him and Cas. "You're not real," he said softly under his breath. The sharpness and details of the illusion were starting to confuse him, and that was why he knew he needed to leave soon, or be stuck in his mind forever.

"You're scaring me, dad." Leo said, looking up with those deep blue eyes that were swirling with fear.

"You're not real either," Dean convinced himself, running his hand over Robbie's pitch black hair. Robbie put on a face that Dean often had to do when he was young, the brave face, Robbie was trying to be brave for his little brother. These damn details broke Dean's heart. He quickly climbed off the bed, and made the mistake of looking at their faces one last time. Robbie had moved to hold little Leoniel in his arms, and the little brother had started to tear up. They both looked up with shocked expressions. Castiel was holding their little girl protectively, as if Dean had gone crazy. He looked up at him with a mixture of shock and fear.

"Dean, we can drive you to the hospital. You're not well," he said calmly, trying to get Dean to come to his senses.

"I can't stay here. The real Cas needs me. The real Sam needs me." Dean felt a familiar weight drop on his back; his wings had returned. Dean turned on his heel to run out the door, as much as it felt like he was ripping his heart out in the process. He barreled down the stairs and out the front door, hearing gasps from his other family members. He started sprinting down the street, but each footfall felt the same as the next; completely, sharply real.

What if this was reality? What if he was really running away from his family? He remembered the looks on those kid's-his kid's- faces, and realized he must have ruined their Christmas, and this would probably ruin many christmases to come for them.

Go back home, Dean, alittle voice nagged in his head. Dean hesitated, but kept running. No. He needed to get out of here, no matter how wonderful and appealing it was. Doubt kept creeping into his mind as he ran farther and farther and everything still felt just as real. Finally, he noticed a change and felt relieved. Things started to become strange, rubbery almost. He was reaching the edge of his illusion.

He caught a glimpse of the angel responsible; it stood not too far away, half in and half out of the yellow light from a street lamp. It's eyes glowed eerily, and most of its body made of twisted parts was hidden in the shadows, but he saw its middle face clearly. It was an oversized vulture's head, glaring at him murderously as if he were going to spring on him and tear him apart.

Dean woke up abruptly with a gasp that pulled his whole upper body from the floor. He was drenched in sweat, and he collapsed down on the floor again, breathing hard and trying to erase the images that were burned into his mind. He still wished he had stayed in that beautiful trap, it was so hard to come back to reality when reality held nothing that was even comparable to what he had seen. Dean felt like crying, but he didn't want to give in. He had done the right thing, he kept telling himself. That thing was only trying to mess with his head. But he still felt like his boys and little girl were real, they were out there, and he had abandoned them. He took a few minutes to collect himself, and then pushed to stand himself up. He just needed to get out of here. Cas and Sam were struggling on their own, but at least they'd had the common sense to get on a couch or bed.

He unlatched the cabin door and was met with a blast of cold air. He liked how it felt real, how it was distracting his mind from other things. He quickly closed the door behind him, and looked to see that someone was already outside on the steps. Dean could tell just by his wings that it was Calcifer.

"Hey," Dean said, coming to sit next to him on the bottom step.

"You alright?" Cal asked him, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Not really," Dean answered, as he felt really shaken up about the whole dream still. His legs were shaking slightly as he sat down. "My life is fucked up."

Calcifer smiled and blew smoke into the air. "You're preaching to the quire, my friend. You want one?" He held out a cigarette to Dean.

"No thanks," Dean said in a distant voice, holding his head in his hands. Calcifer took back that cigarette, rolled his wrist, and held out a freshly opened beer.

"Oh god yes," he said again, taking the beer and taking his first long sip.

"Whatever you saw, you just have to remember that it's not real. It's just them playing mind games, alright?" Cal offered when he saw how upset Dean was. They were quiet for a moment as Dean drank and Cal smoked slowly.

"You know, I'm surprised that they didn't try this before. They think emotions make people weak and stupid. Maybe they're right."

Dean shook his head slowly. "How bad are the damages? Do you think we could still win?"

Calcifer laughed. "We outnumber them by so much, even after their attempt to level the playing field. And we have people like you, who were hit once and got over it. I don't think they're able to try again. I'm surprised you woke up so quickly, too. Just a few of us have been able to do that." He looked at Dean as if he wanted to ask what the thing had been that would try and keep him there, trapped in his own head, trapped in his deepest desire. But he wouldn't ask, and Dean knew that.

"You can make things real, can't you? Gabriel too, just like with this beer and those cigarettes. Is there any way..."

"No. Don't give in to thoughts like those, Dean. We need to pull this army up, and we can't afford to doubt anything. Okay?"

Dean saw those little faces one more time in his mind's eye. They had seemed so real, every quality, the things they said and did, the way they acted...he breathed out and tried to let it go.

"Atta boy," Cal said, giving Dean a pound on the back. "You're strong, Dean. Don't forget that." He stood up abruptly.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go around and check the other cabins and see where we stand. Keep on eye on this one, alright?" Dean nodded slightly and looked at the snowy ground.

He might be strong enough, sure. But what about Cas and Sam? He turned around to go back inside, shutting the door behind him, and it felt better to be inside where it was sheltered and slightly warmer. He sat down wearily on one of the chairs and watched over the two people that he could never afford to lose. He silently urged them to get better, and cursed the other army for being so clever. Right now, he hoped his friend had the strength to escape their own beautiful prisons. And if they didn't...

Dean didn't even want to think about it. He didn't want to will that into reality.

Screw reality, Dean thought to himself as he tipped his beer back for another drink. It was strange that he was the one to watch over now, as the roles had always been reversed. He vowed to himself that they would wake up, and they would win. Everything was going to be fine, right?