I am so sorry for keeping you hanging like this for so long- but exams and stuff... anyway, last chapter! after this I'll write a short epilogue to wrap things up, but enjoy! (and review)

And he is there

Scared, Dean lent back against the tree, trying to distract himself by wiping the blood of his blade.

It didn't really work, but it calmed him down a little.

Let it be Lilith, let it be Lilith.

But no matter how hard he listened, he couldn't find out who it was, or where they were.

The wind was still and he couldn't hear anyone cry out in pain.

Dean knew it was stupid the moment he whispered his friends name.

"Cas, you there?"

The trees softly bristled in the wind, as if they knew the answer, but refused to tell him.

And Cas didn't answer either.

Anxiously resting his head on his chin, he looked to the ground and spotted a smudge of white among the everlasting green.

A drooping moonflower, his mother's favourite.

But suddenly, he heard bristling again and he looked to his left, at the gap in the trees, where the river lies.

And he was there.

Dean jumped up, a little too quick, and limped towards his friend, kneeling over Lilith's dead body, his silver dagger pierced through her chest like a stake.

"Dean." He looked up.

"Cas." Dean swallowed hard. He wanted to avoid this. He wanted to run away. He didn't want him to kill Cas or Cas to kill him.

He couldn't live with the idea that he killed his friend in cold-blood.

"I... I ran into her," he said. "We fought and I killed her."

"I can see that." Dean nodded.

Castiel got up and stepped over Lilith's dead body, leaving his dagger.

It comforted Dean a little bit, but also made him more aware that he was still holding his own blade.

Castiel walked up to him, closer than Dean would usually find comfortable, and looked at his right hand.

"I need you to safeguard something for me. I need you to make sure it doesn't disappear." He grabbed the silver ring and slid it off his finger, giving it to Dean.

"Why do you want me to have it?" Dean asked. He was confused. Why didn't Cas kill him yet? He had won!

"You won." He mumbled out loud.

Castiel smiled and grabbed Deans fist, the fist clenched around the dagger.

"I did." He said.

And he stabbed himself in his heart.

"CAS!" Dean yelled. He could barely catch him before he had to sink to his knees. "That's not fair buddy. We should've won. Together. We played the Games as a team. Why can't we win together?"

Dean bit back sobs. "CAS!" He yelled again.

"You're going home," Cas breathed into his ear. "Home."

Dean grabbed Cas' face, forcing him to stay with him. "Why Cas? Why?"

Castiel smiled and, with all the effort he could bring up, he whispered. "Can I tell you something, if you promise not to tell another soul?"

Dean nodded and Castiel pulled him down by the lapels of his dirty trench coat.

He whispered something in his ear, so soft that not even the camera's could catch it.

Only Dean.

"I love you."

Without giving Dean a chance to respond, Castiel slumped against Deans chest.

Boom.

Dean held him friend, his companion, his ally tight and sobbed, whispering curses under his breath, whispering Cas' name.

He had won the Games, but he had lost everything else.

The Peacekeepers had to pull him off his friends death body. Dean tried to fight them off, but one held him tight while the other sedated him with a syringe.

When they dragged him into the Helicarrier, the last thing he saw before he passed out was Cas' stone-cold face.

And that face would never let him go.

He woke up in a hospital bed, feeling dizzy, drugged to death with morphling probably.

At least his bandage felt clean.

There was no one in his room, so he pressed the nurse button. He wanted to see someone, anyone, to not have to think about what happened.

Dean leant back on the pillow. He was back in the Capitol, against all expectations, and had won the Games.

The lone Victor.

He thought about Cas' confession too. Cas loved him.

Did he love Cas?

In a way he did. He loved Cas like he loved Sam, how he'd quickly grown fond of Gabriel.

Gabriel, another stab in the heart.

He shook his head. He wouldn't have to tell anyone, so there was nothing to worry about, he didn't have to answer the question.

Bobby came walking in, and Effie right behind him.

"Oh- everyone is talking about you!" Effie squealed. "I am so proud of you! My little Tribute won the Games!"

Bobby just smiled.

"We're so glad you woke up in time! We don't want to delay the recap, do we?" Effie turned away and walked out of the room again, just babbling and babbling. "I have to get Portia and Cinna together, they must create something absolutely stunning for tonight..."

Bobby grabbed a flask from his pocket and took a swig.

He handed the flask to Dean. "Brace yourself boy, this is going to be a long evening."

He stayed with Dean and they talked everything through, Dean needed to get the Games off his chest and Bobby was a good listener.

Bobby told him his side of the story, how the Capitol reacted to Jo and Balthazar and Gabriel.

After half an hour or so, Effie returned with Cinna and Portia.

"Dean!" Portia smiled. "I am so glad to see you again!"

Cinna said nothing. Maybe he was angry that Jo didn't win. Maybe he was just sad, or maybe he felt like he had nothing to add to the conversation.

They barely gave him another hour before they hauled his ass out of bed into a wheelchair and rolled him off to the make-up room, announcing the recap would 'start in two'.

Horatius cut and styled his hair, while Lucia worked on his make-up.

Dean underwent their treatment silently, letting them fill the empty spaces with their nonsense.

"So Dean," Lucia asked after a while. "What did Castiel say to you?"

"I won't tell you." Dean said.

"Aw," Lucia sighed disappointed, "But the entire Capitol wants to know!"

"I promised him to keep my trap shut, so I will," Dean replied, a little harsher than he had meant to.

"Oh, okay." Lucia said frowning.

They finished their work in silence and left him alone.

Portia came to see him soon after the two stylists left.

"Hey Dean," She said, holding up a familiar suitcase. "You promised Caesar something, remember?"

He nodded. He remembered.

Silently he put the armour on, trying not to put too much strain on his leg.

Portia helped him get into it and afterwards she looked at the result, pulling a few strands of hair out of his face.

"So, all ready to go!" she smiled, but then she frowned. "Wouldn't you want to take the ring off?"

Dean shook his head. "I promised Cas to keep it safe, so I will. And I can't lose it if it is around my finger."

"But it makes you look so domesticated." Portia frowned.

"Do I look like I give a shit about that?" He asked, it was rhetorical, so Portia didn't answer and he marched out, limping a little, towards the stage.

When it was time for the broadcast, he walked from backstage on to the stage, towards the little sofa that was standing in the middle.

Dean already walked stiffly because of the armour, but the leg didn't make it any better.

He tried not to limp, not to show his weakness, but that only made it worse and it was a relieve to sit down on the sofa.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the 66th annual Hunger Games, Dean Winchester!"

The audience cheered louder, but Dean didn't react.

"I'm glad to see you're wearing your armour Dean." Caesar smiled.

"I fulfil my promises," Dean said cold.

"Right you are, how about we take a look at your Games, right Dean? You probably haven't seen the material yet." Caesar pointed at the screen on the left side on the stage, and Dean felt a lump rise in his throat.

He didn't want to see his Games.

He didn't want to see everyone die over again.

It started with the Cornucopia, Dean and Jo up the mountain, the scorpions, Balthazar and Castiel, Anna, and all the other deaths, focused on Dean's point of view.

Weirdly enough, they skipped the conversation between him and Cas, about home. They skipped the one sensational time Cas had opened up, and Dean wondered why.

But Jo's death, him yelling against Cas ripped him back into reality.

Cas' death scene had no cuts like the others, no fast-forwards.

Dean had to relive the entire scene he had gone through yesterday. He tried to swallow his tears away, and, as far as he knew, he succeeded.

When the recap was over, and Dean was emotionally wrecked, Caesar gently took his hand and tapped Cas' ring.

Deans first reaction was to pull away, but he didn't.

"Cas..." Caesar said sadly.

It sounded alien, not right. It was his nickname for Cas, Caesar shouldn't use it.

"Yeah, I know." Dean said. He didn't know what the presenter wanted, but he pretended.

"Will you share it with us?" Caesar asked. "Castiel's last words?"

Dean pulled his hand back. "Caesar?" he asked, and he tried not to sound too annoyed.

"Yes Dean?" Caesar said, voice vibrating with anticipation.

"What did Cas ask me, right before he whispered those words into my ear?"

Caesar was silent at first, and when Dean didn't really expect an answer from him anymore, Caesar replied: "He said: 'Can I tell you something, if you promise not to tell another soul?'."

Dean smiled. "Caesar, tell me, do you have a soul?"

"You're a clever boy," Caesar smiled.

"I fulfil my promises." Dean said.

After Caesar, there was a party and Effie dragged him along in that godforsaken suit with his godforsaken leg, and he was glad when he finally got to go to the train station and board the train, that would leave for 12 first thing in the morning.

He took the armour off in the bedroom that was appointed to him and sat down on the bed.

His heart broke a little when he saw Ruby and Jo's sling on his nightstand.

"Computer voice?" he asked.

"Yes mister Winchester?" the voice replied.

"Can you call me Dean? And- and can we just chat for a bit?"

"Of course Dean, what would you like to talk about?"

"Computer voice, do you have a soul?"