So this one's short, but I just thought I'd post it anyway as proof I am continuing this fic. With you til the end ;)
Out of the Darkness, Into the Fire
For Dean Winchester, though, nothing good ever lasts for long.
Because after his decision to live, to hunt with his brother and to love that dorky ass angel, came Amara. Amara, with the smoke and the sexy black dress and that horrible, slow way of talking like a second rate hypnotist. And what he felt when she was there, no, it wasn't love, it wasn't desire, but it was fucked up as hell. What she said was true, they were bonded in some sick way. So how could he stand to tell Cas the truth when he asked through gritted teeth if the mark was gone? The angel was out there somewhere, and definitely not OK, and he was stuck in here and it made him want to punch a wall. Somehow it'd gone from gripping the steering wheel and laughing at ninety miles an hour to crawling out of a car wreck you put yourself in.
Form and Void
"Help me." Oh God, what did they do to you, Cas?
The Bad Seed
"Dean, I… there aren't words." Damn straight. There weren't words for watching Cas writhe on the floor from Rowena's attack dog spell, or for watching it dig deeper and deeper into him, or for why he wouldn't let Cas heal him. As long as Amara was around, he was tied to her and he could hardly stand to look at Cas. That wild minute when Dean thought Cas might love him had come crashing down the second the Darkness came around. Now, because he loved Cas, he couldn't act like he did. It'd be too much. God, the words 'love' and 'Cas' sounded so unfamiliar in his mind. He'd been asking himself The Question for years now, and when he had the answer, it came as a familiar surprise. Like he'd always known the answer, but didn't think he'd quite put it into words. Bitterly, he walked away. It was just about ganking the Darkness now.
Our Little World
Dean felt sick. He was a hunter, and that was what he was good at. And it wasn't even that he'd failed to kill Amara – he hadn't even tried. So while Cas was here watching stupid TV and having mercy on goddamn Metatron and Sam thought God was sending him visions, Dean was broken. Again. So it was no wonder he couldn't look Cas in the face, yelled at him and avoided Sam. It was too much and he wasn't enough.
The Devil in the Details
Dean watched Cas walk away, trench coat billowing in the wind. The stupid sonofabitch had wanted to take his friggin' temperature. Sometimes, there was a curious, awkward humanity in the angel that made Dean want to cry or smile or kiss him, but usually wound up with him driving off or downing another whiskey shot. Loving Cas, because that's what it was, damnit, it was tearing him up. So he had to stop it. Kill Amara, dig himself out of yet another hole and pull Cas through with him, but not because he loved him. That way would just get him in trouble. Because Cas was family. Which is probably why he felt like a tower of shit letting Cas walk away into God knows what.
There was a time when fate kept bringing Cas and Dean together, Dean reflected. It'd been mildly irritating at the time. First came the 'who the fuck is this?' and then the 'oh, that grouchy angel dude' and finally 'god Cas, it's good to see you in one piece'. And now it seemed all he could do was drive away, watching Cas with that little half smile in his rear-view mirror. Lucifer had been their last hope, and God he never thought he'd say that. So now they had no gun and no bullets and Dean was busy getting his heartstrings pulled by a stupid angel. Way to go, Winchester. He reminded himself firmly of his earlier resolution. Stop it. Stop thinking about him. So he pulled away in his car, Sammy riding shotgun, and pretended like it was just any other apocalypse.