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Suddenly its not the Earth holding you here anymore, it's them. Everything you've ever known, everything you've ever loved, gets snipped away until they are the only thing that's left. They are your truth, your reason to be.

As you slowly revolve around each other, giving and taking, you begin to wonder when it all changed, when they became your force of gravity. Time and space fade away like the wisps of a forgotten dream, leaving nothing but the reality of the moment before you. The moment you realize that everything has changed and yet, in some ways it's like it has always been this way. Like you have always felt this way.

And you would do anything, be anything they need,

Friend

Protector

Lover

and soulmate, for as long as time allows, for as long as you continue to breathe.

And every moment with them, every smile, every tear, is reason to be alive, reason to keep fighting, and reason enough to continue drifting in the wasteland between Heaven and Hell.

There was so much pain and anger pounding through him, an emotional disease that coursed through his veins in waves, drowning him in their intensity. There was sadness mixed with longing and fear, so old and ancient, so true to the meaning of the words. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, it was almost as if he was never supposed to feel it in the first place.

It swirled around him like fog, choking everything in sight until a sliver of calm twisted through him, working its way through every orifice of his body. Acceptance, it was calm derived from acceptance, of the situation, of death...it was the acceptance that this was the end, this was goodbye, this was the end of the road.

This is goodbye.

"Dean, this is goodbye." His voice pushed through the fog and emotion and worked its way into Dean's heart and mind.

em"I'm sorry Dean, but this is goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Dean wakes with a start, breathing heavy and sweat soaking through the sheets. He's never had a dream like that before, it was so vivid, so real. He can't remember most of it, or maybe he just doesn't want to, but his brother was there and he was losing control in ways Dean didn't think possible. Whoever his brother was pointing his anger towards today...well he'd be more than a little surprised if they were still alive.

The last tendrils of the dream leaves his body leaving a sense of dread and importance in it's wake. He couldn't place his finger on it but there was something he had to do, someone he had to save.

It was on the tip of his tongue, on the fringe of his mind, just out of his reach. A name, a face, a color swimming through his memory until...

Castiel

The name rings through his mind like church bells. In his mind's eye he can see the angel's broken body as clearly as if he were in the very room.

Dean doesn't know how he knows, but he must get to Cas, he has to.

He jumps out of bed, about to grab his stuff and run to his car, but something stops him. What is he doing, running to the rescue of someone he hasn't seen since he was four? He doesn't even know if the dream was real or not, let alone why it was his responsibility to go save him.

He stands there for a moment, wondering if he was just imagining the whole thing when brief but powerful flashes of a dying Cas streams into his head again. That's all the motivation he needs to get going. The angel was just hanging on to life; who knows if whatever was keeping him here would last that long.

I'm probably just crazy, Dean thinks as he hops into the Impala. He has no clue where Cas even is... yet here he was starting the car and driving. It was as if some part of him just knew exactly where Cas was located. He doesn't listen to music as he drives at nearly breakneck speed. He was breaking so many road laws it's surprising he makes it to his destination without being pulled over or dying for that matter.

Dean doesn't need road signs to clue him, he knows exactly where he is once he passes through the border.

Kansas. Of course it would be here. He supposes everything comes back to this place, to his home. Or...what is left of it. Lawrence is in complete ruins. Everything was coated in a layer of thick, dark ash, and there was more than one home still smoldering. Despite how much he wishes it wasn't so, Dean knows that Sam is responsible, but he can't think about that now, he has to find Cas.

The thick air makes it hard to breathe as Dean forces his way through the rubble, more coughing Cas' name than screaming it.

He can feel a tugging, something pulling him along, getting him closer to his destination. His eyes search every corner, every crevice. His heart jumps every time he sees a shape that might be Castiel and it falls every time he realizes it's just a piece of wood.

He doesn't know how much longer he can keep looking to no avail. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he was just overreacting. But his gut feeling tells him otherwise, that tugging tells him to keep looking, that he is closer than he thought.

Dean goes down another street, running past the row of houses when something stops him in his tracks. It may be blackened and smoking, and ages since he last saw it, but he would know it anywhere. The connection he felt with the house was still strong, even though it was nearly burned to the ground. It marked his beginning, the place where the best and worst moments of his life occurred. The tugging stops and he realizes the barely moving mass several feet away is exactly what he is looking for.

"Cas?" he says running up the angel. Whatever he was expecting when he laid eyes on Castiel again...it wasn't this. The little boy who played pretended with Dean was all grown up now. It wasn't like he expected Cas to be little forever, but whenever Dean pictured him, he saw the little boy with blue eyes too big for his face, parading around in clothes that were too big on him.

What he didn't imagine was Cas in the awkward state between boy and man, the beginnings of stubble gracing his face. The only thing that stayed the same are his eyes, still electric blue, still incredibly ancient, still too big for his face.

He can't even form the words to describe what he is feeling at the moment. After fourteen years, the angel that has plagued his thoughts is lying at his feet, and Dean doesn't even know if he is dead or alive.

"Cas?" he whispers. It doesn't look good. The angel looks like he's been torn to shreds; blood paints his body like a bad art project, and Dean doesn't even know where to begin.

He lowers his ear to Cas' lips straining to hear any sign of breathing, and his heart constricts when he doesn't hear anything. "Cas, breathe." he says, starting CPR. "Come on, buddy, I'm gonna need you to breathe." He lowers his head to check Cas' breathing again. Still hearing nothing, he tries harder. "Come on you ass, don't you dare die on me now, not before you explain yourself." He repeats the process again, pounding and checking, a relentless cycle that leaves him cold, tired and hopeless.

"Come on, Cas," he says a little louder, blinking away the tears he hadn't noticed were welling up.

"Come on, you stupid, selfish-. Come on!"

He gives the angel's chest one more pound and Cas finally starts breathing on his own, but he's still out cold. It was shallow and weak, but it meant Cas was still alive.

The last thing Dean wants to do is to leave Cas here while he goes to get his car, but he knows that carrying him would only cause him more pain and damage.

"You better be alive by the time I come back," he mutters, running to where his car is. He drives the Impala down to where he left Cas. "Okay," he mumbles, carefully picking Cas up and placing him in the back seat. He needs to find a place to get Cas cleaned up and quick.

Dean is sure he's probably crazy to do all this for a man - no, angel that abandoned him fourteen years ago, but now that he's here, he can't just leave Cas to die. Not now that he has already seen him.

Finding a motel... or finding anything that hasn't been destroyed in his brother's attack is near impossible. In fact, it's only when he's well outside of Lawrence does he find anything remotely serviceable.

Checking into the motel, Dean quickly and gently moves Cas into the motel room, and onto the bed.

He questions his reaction to this situation once again. Cas abandoned him, and his family was gone because of it. But this is Cas his one time best friend and protector. Logically, now Dean knows Castiel not being there the night of the fire was probably not his fault. He knows that the angel would have done everything in his power if he had known. But that doesn't explain the aftermath; it doesn't excuse the fact that CA's never came back to him.

Dean bends down, pressing his ear near Cas' mouth, letting out a sigh of relief when he still feels Castiel's warm breath tickle his ear.

Dean doesn't even know where to begin, he's not one to shrink away from blood and gore, but this is something entirely different. Cas' life is literally in his hands.

It was an odd reversal of roles. Dean had always seen the angel as invincible, a constant pillar of strength and power. But seeing him just lie there, chest barely moving, wounds decorating his pale skin-it was chilling. And above that, it was wake up call of sorts, no one was safe from his brother's wrath. He would continue to leave bodies in his wake until Dean was man enough to stop him.

Taking a deep breath, he strips off Castiel's clothes, gasping at how much damage there is. He runs to the bathroom grabbing all the towels, pressing one hand against what seems to be the biggest wound. Whispered apologies fill the air as Cas lets out a pained groans.

"Shh, Cas, it's okay. It's okay. I...It's not even that bad. Don't worry, I'm going to fix this," Dean promises. There's so much blood it's a miracle that Castiel is even still alive. "Okay, okay, I can do this. I can fix this." He runs into the bathroom again, running water in the bathtub. Laying down a blanket on the bathroom floor, Dean slowly brings Cas over to it.

Scooping up some water, he slowly pours it over Cas' body. It cleans off the blood but it's useless when Cas is still bleeding. He grabs the first aid kit he always has with him and grabs a bottle of whiskey as well, it's not the best work he'll ever do, but it's better than nothing.

Dean works fast, cleaning the wounds with water and sewing them up before sterilizing it with the whiskey. Cas lets out a moan every so often, but other than that it's silent. When Cas is all patched up Dean wraps the angel's chest in gauze.

Picking Cas up again, he moves over to the bed, pulling back the covers, resting Cas there and tucking him in. Castiel's eyes flutter open, staring up at Dean.

"Dean," he groans, his eyes falling shut again.

"Shh, Cas. Don't talk, you're really hurt. But it's okay, I'll take care of you." Dean promises again.

Cas slowly shakes his head. "Dean, I'm dying," he croaks out.

Dean shakes his head back at Cas. "No, no... I fixed you up, you're okay now. It's all okay now." Dean says, getting in the bed next to Cas. He feels Cas' pulse, his own quickening as he feels Castiel's slowing down. "No, Cas. You can't leave, not again. I saved you, I did it. I took care of you. Don't leave, please don't leave me again," Dean cries willing Castiel's heartbeat to go back to normal. "You're not allowed to leave again, please Cas."

Castiel smiles up at Dean. "Dean, I..." Cas coughs hard, closing his eyes. His pulse is almost nonexistent.

"Cas..." Dean wraps an arm gently around his body, his hand still feeling as Cas' pulse grows weaker and weaker. And then it stops completely. Dean lets out a loud sob as he allows himself to cry, his face buried in Cas' neck. "Cas, no. Come back, you have to come back, you can't leave, not again." Dean begs.

Dean cries for hours, eventually wearing himself out until he falls asleep holding Castiel in his arms.

Cas feels warm, and light. He must have died shortly after he thought of Dean and his goodbye to him. He doesn't feel any pain and Castiel considers this a blessing. This is what death is like, peaceful and safe.

Cas opens his eyes, confused when he sees the ceiling of the motel room. He looks down, shocked at finding Dean's head resting on his chest, and Dean's arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

"So this is it," he thinks. "This is what my Heaven looks like." Cas is still confused about the motel room, seeing how he has only been in one, but the fact that he gets Dean to keep him company makes him happy.

"Dean," he mumbles, pushing on Dean's shoulder, pain immediately shots all over his body.

This shouldn't be happening, he should be whole again, pain free. In this state, the most the angel can do is nudge Dean a few times, but to no avail. All Dean does is mumble a few nonsensical words and nuzzles in closer. Since the day before the fire this is the most human contact Cas has gotten in the past fourteen years, he isn't quite sure how to handle it all but he figures he just has to deal after all he has an eternity to get used to it.

Was he sad that he was dead? Just a bit...there was so much he wanted to do with his existence, so much he wanted to tell Dean before it was too late. But he has a Dean here that he can share with...and even if it's just a small bubble, he is back in his home.

He shifts his head again to look at the Hunter sleep. It's been so long since they had been together, the four year old boy had turned into a man in no time at all. His best friend has changed so much physically speaking that Cas wonders what else could be different. Could they pick up where they left off, could Dean even give him a second chance?

Dean begins to fidget in his sleep clearly annoyed by something. "Mmmm Cas, you think too much," he says, still sleeping.

Castiel is confused by the boy's statement. How on earth could Dean know that Cas was thinking too much?

Dean is still fidgeting, managing to hit every sore part on Cas' body, when he wakes up suddenly looking around for some unknown attacker. His eyes find Cas' and for a while they stay there. Blue against green, drinking up fourteen years of change. Dean catches himself and pushes away from the Cas, acting as though falling asleep on the chest of the angel that had been his constant thought was no big deal.

"You're awake," Dean states gruffly. Castiel can't move much without hurting himself so he lays there, it's quite obvious that he is indeed awake.

"Did Sam do this to you?"

Cas doesn't say anything, it doesn't matter anyway. What's done is done.

Dean waits for an answer, but when Cas doesn't give one up he sighs in exasperation. "Nothing ever changes, does it?" he says. "Well I fixed you, now get the hell out of here." Cas is taken aback, this shouldn't be happening. This was his own personal heaven, Dean can't hate him here...he was supposed to get what he wanted here.

"Dean..." he begins.

"You think you can come back after fourteen years? Fourteen years, Cas! I didn't hear a word from you, not even once. My mother died, Cas. Remember her? The woman who took you in? The woman who let you into her life? She died because of you. She died because you couldn't do your fucking job." Dean is on a roll, this moment was fourteen years in the making. He had practiced this speech over and over again hoping that there would come the day where he could deliver it.

"You stupid, selfish, bastard! You could have come to me, you could have given me your condolences. I spent years wondering if you were even real! And. You. Couldn't. Even. Bother. To. Show. Your. Face." With every word Dean attacks a part of the angels body. Not caring that he was yelling in pain, not caring that he wasn't even bothering to beg Dean to stop, not caring about that sad, confused look on Cas' face, a look that said he deserved nothing less.

"Did I really mean that little to you? I mean I know, you're an angel of the Lord. You've probably met and befriended a lot of people before me. But for me, you were it. For me, you were all that mattered. You made me feel important, you made me feel larger than life. Then you took that all away from me, Cas! I got a glimpse of what people spend forever looking for. And you took that away!"

Cas can't do much more than watch Dean ramble and rave, he deserves this. It seems even here Cas is going to have to explain himself, atone for what he's done.

But it seems as if fight has gone out of him. Dean plops himself into a chair, looking everywhere but Cas. "You left me once," he says dejectedly. "I'm sure you can do it again."

"That's not true," Cas says quietly.

"What?" Dean scoffs.

"I said, that's not true. You were it for me also. You seem to have this grand notion that I run around befriending every human I meet. You were the first and the last, Dean. I have lived for so long and no one, no one has had a more profound effect on me. I was ready to risk it all for you. I have risked it all for you. Words cannot express the guilt and shame I feel for that night. I will never be sorry enough to make it up to you. But don't you ever say that you meant nothing to me. You meant the world Dean Winchester...you still do."

Dean let's his words sink in, mulling them over for a bit. "Somehow," he says. "I don't believe you."

He walks out the door and towards his car, ready to take a very long drive.

As Cas watches his old charge walk away, he begins to doubt that this place is Heaven. Dean shouldn't be able to walk away for him...he shouldn't feel this badly...his heart shouldn't break this way.

No...this must be his personal hell.

Livid doesn't even begin to describe how Dean feels right now. That stupid son of a bitch really thought he could waltz back into Dean's life, throw some fancy words around, and all would be rainbows and friggin unicorns. Not if Dean had anything to say about it.

He was driving well over the speed limit, blasting music that was so loud it could raise the dead. He just wanted to drown out his mind. It was full with thoughts of Cas. Cas from when he was four, awkward and serious as hell. Cas now, nineteen and a little more sure of himself. He can see those eyes, blue and electric staring into him like he was the angel's favorite book.

All of this emotion is driving him insane and no matter how fast he drives he can't get away from it. Can't get away from him. No one infuriates him like that angel did. No one can get under Dean's skin the way Cas can. And when he had the dream about Cas his heart stopped in a way it never has for anyone else. Dean isn't sure what this means, he isn't sure what this makes him. But by God it is just another thing to hate Castiel for.

He spies a bar and makes a hard right. It's called the Roadhouse and Dean is hoping he can lose himself there tonight.

Even though he's underage, he has the confidence to pull it off, and the fake ID in his pocket helps as well. He plops himself on a barstool, flashes a winning smile to the girl across the counter and places his order.

The object of the night is to get as smashed as humanly possible, getting the girl across the counter let him come home with her was just an added bonus.

"Sure you should be drinking so many?" she says after his fifth shot of whiskey.

"I dunno sweetheart, you tell me," he says with a wink. He can see she's trying to keep it together, but she can't stop the slight blush that's creeping on her features.

"Are you always this much of a flirt?" she counters.

"Only with those who are worth it." They go on like this for hours, Dean is getting more than a little sloppy and the girl, whose name he can't even remember, is getting more amused.

"So, who's the girl," she says suddenly, cleverly switching his whiskey shots to water ones. Dean is too gone to even notice the difference.

"Girl? What girl?" he asks her, managing to not only get water down his front, but the counter as well. "There's no girl. Nope not for me."

"Boy then?" she asks, eyebrows raised a little. If the boy was a little more sober, she assumes the glare he is shooting her would be a little more effective, but right now with his mouth hanging open he is looking like a stoned oaf.

"I'm not gay."

"Well if it's not a boy and it's not a girl, who exactly has you wound so tightly around their finger that you are trying to drink your way into a stranger's pants."

He thinks that over for a second, he really doesn't want to get into it but after this night he'll probably never see her again so why not.

"It's Cas." He says nothing more.

"Cas?" she prompts laying down the towel she had been using to clean up Dean's mess.

"Yes Cas! That ass thinks he can come back after all this time like it was nothing. It's like he isn't even aware of how much he hurt me. You'd be hurt too wouldn't you...wouldn't you...what's your name again?" he asks.

She laughs at him, handing him something to chew on. Hopefully she can sober him up soon, she isn't up to taking care of strangers tonight, even ones as adorable and damaged as Dean. "For the fifteenth time, my name is Jo. Jo Harvelle. Be sure not to forget it again. So your boyfriend left you, came back and now you're hurting. Age old story, my friend."

"He's not my boyfriend, I'm not gay." he says again. "I like girls, all kinds of girls. Girls like you. Girls with pretty blue eyes that you can get lost in forever. Girls with dark hair that never looks like they put a comb through it. Girls with chapped lips, the kind of lips you wouldn't mind-" he stops himself, suddenly aware of what he is saying. "I'm not gay." he says again, more to reassure himself than anything else, but she doesn't need to know that.

"Enough about him," he says placing a hand on her shoulder. "He isn't important right now, you are."

She looks at his hand on her before lightly picking it up and placing it on the counter. "I'm not interested in being your escape tonight, Dean. You are running from something, and we both know you don't want me."

"But I do baby," he says a little pathetically. "I'm not running from anything, and even if I were I'd still want you." He tries to get up but the world is spinning so hard, he falls right back down.

She can't help but to laugh at the poor idiot, whoever this Cas person is Dean has got it so bad that he is willing to do anything to prove he doesn't. "Come on, is there anyone I can call for you? You need to get home." Ignoring his pleas of how fine he is she turns away to go find the phone they keep for such occasions. When she gets back, he is gone, in his place a napkin with his number and the words "just in case".

It's fine. Dean doesn't need her anyway, he thinks as he stumbles his way to his car. Besides she thought he was gay. No women he had ever turned the charms on thought he was gay. He has never had a gay moment in his life. Well, except for that one time with Rhonda Hurley and her pink satin underwear. But that doesn't count, or at least he hopes it doesn't.

He knows it probably isn't the best idea to drive in his state but he doesn't care. The point was to feel numb and right now he was feeling a whole lot of nothing. Stomping on the gas, he takes off as if the devil was chasing him. "Hey Satan, payin my dues!" he sings. "Playin in a rock band, hey momma, look at me. I'm on my way to the promised land! I'm on the highway to hell! Highway to hellllll!" He's bashing his head with the music, letting it flow through him. Too much has been taken from him, he's been jerked around for too long. One by one everything he loved was taken from him, and the one thing that decided to come back he didn't want or need.

He is screaming at the top of his lungs, throwing curses at the wind, weaving through lanes like it was nothing. He knows he should stop, that he should get out of the way but he barrels through. Lights flash in his face, a warning he should heed. He has time, he can move whenever he wants, but this feeling, the adrenaline rushing through his veins, when was he ever going to feel that again?

He is in control, he is the master of his own destiny, until he isn't. One wrong move and the car is being flipped over, once, twice, three times. He can hear his bones break as parts of his baby are being strewn all over the highway. He doesn't even have time to cry, or pray or beg. Every flip of his car screams his stupidity. All he can do is pray Cas would come and help. It's funny, he hates the guy with everything that's in him, and that's his last thought.

There are no regrets, save for one but that wasn't worth thinking over now. As he hears the sound of wings beating, he can't help but to smile a bit. At least the man upstairs lets him go to Heaven.

Before long Cas realizes that he isn't dead, this wasn't Hell...and Dean hated him, possibly more now than ever before.

Which bring him to the matter on hand. How on Earth is he still alive? Last he remembered Sam was ripping him apart body and soul...or in his case, grace. Technically he should be dead right now. Was it an act of God, his absent father finally granting him something he wanted? Was it the bond between a Hunter and his Angel? Anna did say the world has never seen a pair like Cas and Dean before. Did it include raising each other from the dead?

Thinking about it all wears him out even more. He needs time to heal and regroup. If Dean ever comes back he can just go invisible and quietly park himself in a corner until he was strong enough to go. Cas didn't imagine their first meeting going as horribly wrong as it did, and to make matters worse he spent it all thinking he was dead.

He thinks back to all the things Dean said to him, he deserves it, he knows that. But it doesn't stop the words from hurting. How could he make Dean believe him; what acts would he have to perform to prove that he didn't leave by choice? This is so much harder than the angel had expected; Cas has one relationship and he was already failing it. He doesn't understand how people juggled multiple. It feels like nothing short of wearing his heart on his sleeve would make Dean understand, but since Dean seems to be immune to such advances, he'd have to give it time.

Just then, Castiel feels pain like he has never felt before. It is unlike the pain he had been feeling from his earlier injuries. This was outside himself, as if it is happening to somebody else, but he can still feel it nonetheless.

'Help me, Cas. ' came crashing through the airwaves, as another roll of pain hits him like a ton of bricks. 'Help me' he now recognizes the voice as Dean's and wherever the eldest Winchester was, he was in a lot of pain.

Castiel doesn't have much in him get to Dean, but the pain is getting intense and that's when Castiel knows that he will be able to feel the exact moment of Dean's death. Every wish and regret would be Cas' wish and regret. Every cracking bone and collapsing lung would be Cas' as well. He will feel and experience as if it were his own, and there is nothing he can do to stop it. He tries to fly to Dean, but it's no use, it's not working, and Dean is dying right before his very eyes. For the second time Cas is about to fail another Winchester, but unlike last time Cas has to feel it happen.

Dean wakes up on the side of the road feeling nothing, no pain, no soreness, nothing. He wonders briefly if this is Heaven. It would be just like him to have Heaven look like an open road. But then he catches sight of his baby and knows, that anywhere where his Impala is in ruins was no Heaven he wanted to be a part of.

He realizes that he can sit up, and move around with ease. So he's alive, that much he knows for sure...but how is that even possible?

There was that sound again. The one that sounded like beating wings. Dean is surprised after the way he treated the angel, he actually showed up to save him. This doesn't mean Cas was being forgiven, but Dean wasn't petty enough to not thank the person who had just saved his life. He turns around, opening his mouth to say thank you, but he closes it just as quickly.

The person who had saved him was in no way Castiel. He was much shorter for one, and his eyes were different. Where Cas' were sincere and electric, this man's held a hint of cruelty behind the gold sparkles.

"You're not Cas." Dean says dumbly.

"Course not, kiddo," his savior says. "Name's Gabriel. Oh and how'd you like the cake?"

Hey guys, thanks for sticking with us for this long!
Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, but between GISHWHES and school starting again, time got away from us.

Thanks again to our wonderful Betas, we love you.