Hello again :D

This is the longest chapter so far xD it took me quite a while to write which is why I'm a little later posting than usual, sorry :P

I don't own anything at all ... y'know ... except this particular plot line

I dedicate this chapter to ... DearHart :D

And an extra thank you to all of my other reviewers and favourites and followers too :D

Enjoy ^.^

When he landed, Castiel immediately opened his hands to check Dean's soul. Now that he had it, he wasn't sure what to do. He had left behind Dean's body, it would have been too heavy for him with the exponential amount of power that he had used. He glanced behind him. He could always go back for it, but if he had survived, Crowley was likely swarming the place by now, he had probably killed Dean's vessel immediately, wondering why the angel had left the very reason it had come, assuming of course that he hadn't noticed the soul was missing.

He sat where he was, on his knees, staring at the beautifully simple and intricately complex light, cradled in his hands. It felt so weak, kept flickering only by the contact it had with the angel.

He only had one idea. A story that he had heard long ago. He had dismissed it as myth, or exaggeration, or lies. But now, it was one of two options, and Castiel did not think that Dean would be very happy if he inserted his soul into another body. His lip turned up at that thought. He entertained the idea of Dean as a large, balding man, or a woman. He laughed at that. He imagined that Dean would spend all of his time looking down at his own chest. Or … alone with himself. He cleared his throat and shook himself to distract from that particular image.

Which left him with one. But even that was impossible. Just a story they told in the garrison to pass the time. The story of an angel and a human who died. The two had been connected; lovers in some versions, friends in others, some told it that they had been married and had a nephilim child, others that the human had thought her an imaginary friend throughout childhood until she grew to believe that angels weren't real and lost her faith.

Their genders changed with time. Usually one was a man, the other a woman, sometimes they were both the same. Although in those versions, they were nearly always friends. But in all versions, they were connected. The human died, the manner of death was also debated, some said a fire, some, a demon, some, another angel, all agreed that the death left the body of the human beyond an angels power to heal.

The angel had been so unable to cope with the loss of the human that they had taken the human's soul from it's vessel and used their connection somehow to grow a new body, exactly as the old one had been, and the human had sat up and lived.

Castiel had heard this story many times, many ways, but he had never given it much thought. Until now. Was it possible? Some angels said that it had been a one off, a sign of God's favour; others that it had never happened at all. Castiel had never cared enough to form an opinion on the matter. It made a good tale to tell when idleness set in. But the idea of it having any basis in fact was as unlikely as it was absurd.

But thinking of it now, when he had been in the garrison, he had never even entertained the possibility of a human and an angel ever having such an attachment. But now he thought on it, he had been building a bond with Dean ever since they met. Dean knew him in a way that Sam didn't. He knew exactly what to say to make the angel laugh or feel guilt. They had an … understanding between them.

Dean was loyal to the end and never stopped believing that Castiel would make the right choice. He made Castiel want to be better, good enough to earn Dean's approval. He didn't entirely understand it, but he accepted it as part of himself. He and Dean had been through much together. More than anyone else. Except perhaps Sam. But when Dean was worried about his brother it was Castiel he turned to. Castiel liked feeling needed by Dean. They had confessed their deepest feelings and fears to each other, trusting them with the burden of their concerns. No one could deny their bond.

But even if they were connected enough in order for Castiel to attempt to bring Dean back; he had no idea where to start. Angels couldn't heal the soul of a person. They were far too complex and delicate. But sometimes they could heal themselves, given time and support and connection.

Castiel stared at his friend's soul. Everything that Dean was, everything that he had ever been, everything that he ever could be was in his hand.

Castiel thought back to the stories, a one off, some had said, a sign of God's favour, that he had wanted the human to be saved.

Well Castiel thought God had already shown the Winchesters favour, perhaps he would again. After all, if any human on this planet was worth saving, it was Dean Winchester.
So Castiel focussed on Dean; All the little things, the insignificant moments that would mean nothing to anyone but him and Dean. The laughs they had shared, when Dean had tried to get him to lay with a woman, teaching him about humanity, about insults, personal space, sleep, driving, cell phones, alcohol and minutes. And emotions. Emotions most of all.

Don't ever change

Thanks Cas

I can't do it, Cas, it's too big

The last person who looked at me like that, I got laid

When humans want something, really bad, they lie

Go get her tiger

Last time you zapped me someplace, I didn't poop for a week, we're driving

It's kinda funny, talking to a messenger of God on a cell phone, it's like watching a Hell's Angel ride a moped

You keep a look out for my little brother, okay?

Cas, get out of my ass!

You are not gonna die a virgin, not on my watch

I prayed to you, Cas! Every night!

Cas, you okay?

I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass down here

Come on Cas, don't be a dick

I'm not leaving here without you

I was there, where were you?

Don't make me lose you too

You are like a brother to me!

I need you.

As the memories washed over him, Dean's soul began to glow, the more memories he thought of, the more he felt them, the brighter the light became. Until it was as bright as angel light and it spread, it spread to form a figure of white light around the soul in his hands. Castiel watched in amazement, more memories of Dean, flashing in his mind.

Their comfortable silences, the way that Dean seemed to sense him, even before he saw him, the conversations that they could have without speaking. Their perfectly timed glances, the mark on his arm, the way he never let Castiel down, and always forgave him when he made a mistake, the way he ignored his instinct when someone he cared about was in danger, his low feeling of self-worth, despite having proven his value to everyone but himself more than once. His protectiveness of those he considered family. The way he had torn purgatory apart looking for him.

And the way he made Castiel feel. As if getting to know Dean was the best decision he had ever made, even with all that it had entailed. He felt no regrets when he worked with Dean, because he knew that the older Winchester would make the right call. He trusted him more than he trusted anyone. The other angels in the garrison had been cold and unfeeling, willing enough to kill him, despite their numerous battles together, when he sided with the humans. But Dean would help him, even if they had been fighting, even if they were on opposite sides, Dean would always give him a chance to change his mind, he would always offer his hand, even if Castiel did not always take it.

The light was so bright and intense now, obviously in the shape of a human, but it seemed denser, Castiel could feel the light around his hands, as if it were a physical thing. The light itself began to change before his eyes, the glow was different, softer, as the light shaped itself into features, spiky hair, expressive eyes, full lips, strong jaw, broad shoulders, a handprint that fit Castiel's perfectly, a tattoo on the chest, the engraved ribs, muscular arms, calloused hands, a heart, which began to beat, lungs, kidneys, liver, spine, bones, muscle, veins, tendons, blood and skin, all light. Castiel almost had to shield his eyes, but he couldn't bear to look away. Surely this was a miracle, a sign from his father, then he thought again. No. He decided. It was just Dean. Dean always had the ability to surprise him.

The light began to solidify into colour, into texture and flesh around Castiel's hands, and the soul that was in them,The mouth opened and the lungs expanded, the sound of a gasp, a yell, the eyes opened, green, Dean's eyes, the body convulsed and the light faded as Dean lived again, and it was all Castiel could do to stare, to watch in amazement as his friend was re-animated with life. Until he realised that his hands were still holding Dean's soul inside him, which was making him yell. He slowly loosened his hands and pulled out slowly, watching as the hole left behind was automatically filled. And as the last layer of light faded away, Castiel laughed out loud.

So what do you think? I wanted to get in some of my favourite Dean quotes about Cas :P I hope I managed it well

It's an odd little idea but it just popped into my head and I couldn't think of anything else so this is what you got :P

Please review to let me know what you think, your opinions are very important to me :)

Love Tibbins xx