Author's note: Thanks to everyone who read. I am having fun writing this! I decided to take a less 'supernatural' take on this, mostly because I realize that I CANNOT write about monsters without cringing at my own writing. So... ermmm... more existentialist!Cas I guess? If that makes sense. Also, make sure to watch "My Bloody Valentine" today in honor of this 'delightful' holiday. Cas eating burgers is not to be missed.

Dean awoke in an unfamiliar, dark place.

I'm dead. I didn't make it through the fight. Or I died in the Impala. It's over… it's finally over. And I'm in Hell.

He cried out, convinced, almost relieved that he was dead, that the fight was over, and that he was in Hell. After all, this is where he belongs: back on the rack. He never should have been pulled out in the first place. It was unnatural and he couldn't even save Sam, even if the two of them had saved the world. He didn't deserve the world and to him, the world didn't matter without Sam. He opened his eyes. Somewhat miraculously, he could see out of both of them.

Of course I can. He reasoned.

He was sure he was in Hell and they'd restore his sight. After all, they'd want him to witness all the horrible things they would do to his body, to his soul.

"Bring it on, you assholes!" He yelled. Any second now, he was sure the torment would begin.

"Dean! Dean!" A distance voice yelled. "Look at me!"

Dean came out of his 'fantasy' with a start. His eyes focused and he saw a familiar face was staring down at him. He saw ruddy, stubbly cheeks, clear, sapphire-blue eyes, and a full mouth contorted in a grimace.

Castiel.

Why aren't I dead? Why is Cas here?

"Dean, do you recognize me? Is your brain working?" Cas asked, staring down at him, looking genuinely perplexed.

Dean sat up slowly. He couldn't believe it. Was he in Heaven? Was he dreaming? Was he ALIVE?

"Cas? What… what is going on?" He asked. "Where am I? Why are you here? I saw you die… I saw Bobby die… Sam is gone… Cas… how are… What the fuck is going on?"

He stared at Castiel. He looked around and realized that he was in a hotel room that he had never seen before. He was lying on a bed and Cas was standing above him.

"How are you here?" He asked weakly. "Am I dead?"

"You are not dead, Dean, and neither are am I." Cas said seriously. "I found you in the Impala in the graveyard… unconscious… bleeding from various wounds on your face, your head swollen to a very large size. I believe there may have been some kind of brain damage. I brought you back here to heal you. I feared there were things in the graveyard that wanted to kill you. I sensed them all over."

"You're… you again?" Dean mumbled, rubbing his face. Sure enough the blood and the bruises were gone. Not to mention that his head was clear and he could see out of his right eye. Sure enough, Cas had healed him. He was good as new.

"Yes, I am. I was restored. I am… an angel of the Lord again." He said, still looking bewildered.

"Where's Bobby? Did you save him?" Dean asked.

Cas looked at him soberly. "Dean… by the time I came back… by the time I was me again, Bobby was gone. His body I mean… I searched for it, I even tried to see if I could still sense him… but there was nothing. Bobby is dead and I don't know where his body is or what took it."

"Why is this happening?" He asked.

"I… have no idea. I am still not sure why am here. I was dead, Dean. I was guts on the ground." Cas muttered. "I am not even… fully restored, not to my full power. I cannot teleport, at least not yet. I do not hear my brothers and sisters. I was amazed that I could heal you. My grace… well, much of it is gone. I had to drive here. It was… well, it was terrifying."

"Bobby?" Dean whispered. "Who took Bobby?"

"I don't know, Dean, I'm sorry. If I was myself… I could tell you. I could tell you why any of this is happening. We will find out, I promise. I will get you answers. We will find Bobby. We will bring him back. And we will get Sam out of the hole."

Sammy.

Sam was still dead. Sam was still in Hell. Bobby was gone. Bobby was dead. Some unknown evil had taken his body. Cas was back, but if he was driving, he was half an angel, even weaker than he had been when was falling and cut off from heaven. Cas had no idea what was going on. There were things in the graveyard that wanted to kill him. He still irrevocably alone, except now, things were stealing his friends' bodies and bringing angels back to life.

Did he really want to be here? Is this what he wanted?

"Dean?" Cas asked cautiously, staring at him. He sat down on the bed next to him. He placed his hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.

"Sammy." He whispered. "Sam is gone."

Cas sat on the bed next to Dean. He rested his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"We'll get him back." He said again, his voice sounding like rocks and glass.

Dean wasn't fully there. It was like some kind of dam had broken in his mind. He thought that the dam had broken when he almost said yes to Michael, but no, at least then he still had Sam, still had Bobby, still had some sense of sanity. Right now all he could think about was dead bodies, Hell, and putting his pistol in his mouth. The sense of euphoria he had felt at giving up, at accepting death was gone. He didn't want to feel this way, but he did.

"Dean? DEAN! Look at me." Cas said. "I promise you, you are not alone and we will get through this."

"Sammy told me to go to Lisa and Ben, Cas. Should I? Is that what I should do?" Dean asked the angel.

Castiel looked a little annoyed when he said Lisa's name. He shook his head.

"Dean… right now you shouldn't be around a child, especially if there is something else out there. I'm not trying to be 'up your ass' or 'in your personal space' telling you what to do, but I sensed something bad in the graveyard. And you are not yourself… that woman and her child don't need to see you like this." He said.

"You're right, Cas. You're the only one who tells it like it is. You're the only one who will admit I'm poison, through and through. All of us, Winchesters, we're cursed. We're poison." He muttered.

"Dean, you know that's not what I meant. You are not poison. You are a brave man who just lost his brother in unimaginable circumstances. I can feel it coming off you in waves. You want to die, right? That's what I meant what I said they don't need to see you like this." Cas said.

"What about this thing that got out? Won't it ever stop, Cas, is it ever going to stop?" He asked brokenly. "We stop the apocalypse and something worse gets out? What the hell was it? And what brought you back? What took Bobby's body? Why can't I just stop fucking fighting for ONE DAY and mourn my brother?" He cried.

"I don't know what it was, Dean, I have no idea why I am here, I don't know where Bobby is… I hate to admit this, because I usually know almost everything, but I don't know what this is." Cas said.

"Big help you are, Cas." Dean muttered.

Cas didn't object. In fact, he seemed embarrassed. He looked away, out the window, avoiding Dean's gaze. Cas wasn't all seeing, all knowing, but he was a freaking ANGEL OF THE LORD, and one of the most powerful creatures that Dean had ever met in his 25 years of hunting. Angels were the soldiers of God, and capable of more power than anything else in the known UNIVERSE, yet here he was with one who appeared to have the power equivalent to a magician at a child's birthday party.

Dean thought about where he was, trying to get clarity on his situation. He was in some unknown motel room with an angel who had rebelled against Heaven, turned human, gotten killed, been restored, but not into a human, but not quite into an angel, and his brother was in Hell, his parents were dead, and now something else wanted to kill him and his guardian angel was clueless. A clueless angel who couldn't teleport and was scared of driving a car was almost as useless as a broken man with no will to live.

"We will find whatever this is, Dean… and we will bring Sam and Bobby back. This I swear to you. This will be better, Dean." He said in a determined voice. It was the second or third time he had said this, like it was his new mantra. Yet he couldn't say how the two of them would do any of this.

Dean stared at the angel. He looked frighteningly human right now. He was sweating and nervous and he kept biting his lip, which was a habit he seemed to pick up ever since he was brought back from the dead. Even when Cas had been human, he hadn't seemed like it. He had healed Dean when Dean had no desire to be saved. He had lost Bobby's body. Dean knew he couldn't bend time, hell, he didn't even know if he could bend spoons. Then he realized that the reason Cas was so determined to keep him here, so determined to go after the "something" in the graveyard is that Cas no longer had a mission, had no idea why he was here and for the first time in his existence, he had no idea what he was fighting or if he even needed to be fighting. Cas had no fucking clue and THAT was the miracle here. Cas had always had a mission and without one, he was lost.

Finally Dean spoke, "Are you sure there's anything to fight? Are you sure you 'felt' something? Buddy, you just said it yourself, you're clueless. You don't even know why you're alive. You're so sure that something is after us, but you don't know what it is. And what can you even do?" Dean said.

Cas stood up. "I just healed you, Dean. I can still do that." He muttered.

"I didn't want to be healed. I didn't want to be saved. I just want this over." He said.

"You don't mean that. You will recover. As will I." Cas said resolutely.

"Cas, reason with me, what can you do? Why are you here? What can you do? What are you?" He said.

"I am… an angel of the lord. I am not fully restored because I exploded and I was human. My grace will recover." He said, his voice wavering.

"You said no angel radio, right? And Cas, except when you were human, when have you been unable to teleport? And tell me… how long did it take you to heal me? And since when are you, of all angels, clueless about who's performing the miracles?" Dean asked.

"I can't hear them. I am cut off from Heaven. Just like I was before, after I rebelled. I am just weak right now and so are you. That's why we need to take some time before we jump back into the fight. That's why I ran from the graveyard." He said, evading all of the other questions.

Watching Cas say all this, Dean realized that Cas had no confidence that his abilities would return. He felt sick. Seeing an angel this nervous, this unsure made him feel a hell of a lot worse about his own chances.

"Cas. I'm glad you're alive." Dean said. It's all he could say. He didn't feel so good about anything else.

Castiel didn't say anything and Dean still felt like dying. He knew he was being cruel, but Cas's new go-getter attitude was really bothering him. Cas had never been an optimist and that was something that Dean liked about him. Him talking about bringing Bobby and Sam back, about fighting some new evil, gaining back his access to Heaven, well, Dean knew Cas was putting up a front. The angel might have been able to sense Dean's general hatred toward life and himself right now, but Dean could sense things too. Cas was wearing this new attitude, this fake face because he was terrified and bewildered; cut off from heaven and his full divine powers. Just like Dean, he was cut off from everything that had made him who he was. Dean's mission had been protecting Sammy and saving the world. Cas's mission had been to serve God and to stop the apocalypse. Now all of these things were gone. They really were two peas in a pod right now. They both had no purpose. No reason to live. No idea why they were still here.