Oh lordy lord, the break up has arrived! Even I'm annoyed at me for coming up with this XD thank chuck it's not real.

(spoilers)

Still enjoying S12 - agent Beyonce, hahahahahaha YES but Cas still not realising how much Dean pines for him when he's not around NOOOO - although obviously I wish that Cas was in every episode. The priest outfits were a fucking fantastic consolation prize though, wowzers. Sign me up to that church!

And oh my GOD 'sunshine' is canon! I totally stole it from saltyfeathers on AO3 but I used 'morning sunshine' in this very fic. I feel so smug and ahead of the times right now.

"No, no, I'm not sayin' you should blame me for anything, just make sure you got a reason in your head as to why you're angry. You gotta be real angry, Cas. You're storming out, remember? That is not like you, you need a reason."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair, clenching my other fist around the Impala keys. They dig into my palm, biting. Dean's right, storming out is not like me at all, but it's a major part of the plan.

"We should have figured out a reason before now," I hiss, panic starting to creep up on me. This isn't going to work. I don't want it to work. I don't want to leave. But I have to.

Dean rolls his eyes, but his posture is tense. I know he doesn't like this either. "There are a dozen things you could pick that are one hundred per cent believable. Come on, man, I'm not exactly Prince Charming."

"I find you charming, although no, I'm not aware of you having any royal-"

"Cas," Dean cuts across me firmly, stepping closer. His eyes are very serious. "You need to lie, OK? I know you think I'm great, somehow. And that's awesome, it really is. But you need to pretend otherwise."

"I should have snuck out overnight and left a note, like you suggested. You were right."

Dean is kind enough to merely shrug impassively, pretending not to be annoyed at me for insisting that it will be less suspicious if Sam and Ezekiel actually see me leave. Why must I always make everything difficult and painful? I could be well on my way by now with no scene caused.

"Yeah, perhaps, but it doesn't matter. We're doing it this way. Now, you might be able to leave without being stopped but I can't guarantee it and Sam will definitely try to call you and fix things. He's gonna think this is his business, because it involves you and me and we're both his family. This is going to require acting. So make something up and stick with it."

I swallow, staring at him. I try to think of reasons I might walk out on him. To be fair, he has sometimes treated me badly over the years, in various situations and for various reasons. It's never been enough for me not to want to be near him, though. The few times I did abandon him, the situation was far more drastic than just an argument. "You think of something. I can't."

Dean groans and half-turns away, rubbing at his furrowed brow. "OK. OK, maybe it's a gay panic thing, yeah? Maybe I just can't deal with you being a dude and I'm refusing to let you touch me and you're over it."

I scoff a little. "Sex? But sex doesn't matter. I like it and I would be sad to not be able to touch you again, but it's hardly important enough to end a relationship over, is it?"

Dean throws me a look of mingled disbelief and indignation. "Way to boost a guy's confidence. You wouldn't care if I actually decided to go all chastity vows on you?"

"Of course not. I love you, you mean far more to me than sexual gratification."

"Well… OK, that's…" Dean struggles for a moment before slumping and sighing, eyes soft despite his annoyed expression. "Thank you. Fine, something else. Uh, you tried to get me to give up drinking and I refused."

"Sam knows that I wouldn't police you like that. Although it is true that I would prefer you found a healthier coping mechanism for stress, especially as I'm no longer able to regularly heal you of any ill health."

"Yeah, but… wait, what? What d'you mean, regularly heal me?"

I shift uncomfortably. I didn't mean to tell him that. "I just used to give your health a little boost now and then. Your diet has never been ideal, you don't get enough sleep and you drink too much. I just fixed up any issues with your cardiovascular system and internal organs, as well as aching joints, that sort of thing. I did the same for Sam too. Not very often. Perhaps a few times a year."

His mouth has dropped open. "Oh, is that all?"

"Yes." I pause and then grimace. "No. I drop in and help with your nightmares sometimes. Well, I did."

"For fuck's sake, Cas!"

"I'm sorry," I snap, then rethink my response. "Actually, I'm not sorry at all. I saved you some suffering and I'm pleased with that."

Dean frowns at me but then seems to deflate, shaking his head and glancing away. "Whatever. I guess I owe you a thank you. Again."

"Yes, probably."

Green eyes meet mine, caught between affectionate and irritated. "Right, well, thank you. So, anyway. You reckon the drinking thing isn't believable?"

"It's not like I've never tried to deal with my problems through alcohol. As a short term solution, it's actually quite effe-"

"Fine! What about that crap Ezekiel was saying about you being here putting us in danger? No, wait, we can't mention Ezekiel to Sam, duh. OK, well, it made you pretty angry the other day, what I said about you wanting to go after Metatron for your ego…"

"We can't mention Metatron to Ezekiel, Dean."

"Shit, shit, you're right. Fuck. Seriously, Cas, you must have something?"

I hesitate, because something has occurred to me. It wouldn't be enough to make me leave for good - I have an uncomfortable suspicion that nothing would - but it's a buried fear of mine when it comes to mine and Dean's relationship. That's why I don't want to voice it, though. What if it's true? But we need a believable reason for me to be upset enough to storm out, and this feels like it fits that. I take a deep breath and speak to the floor, horrified to hear my voice trembling.

"Maybe you told me that you preferred me as an angel. That I'm not enough as a human. Too different, too weak."

To my shock, Dean actually laughs. I look up, hurt, but he's shaking his head as he speaks, amused. "Like anyone's gonna believe that, come on…"

I blink at him. "I think it's very believable."

Dean's smile fades as he looks at me. I try to keep my expression blank, but I must do a pretty bad job because his face falls into dismay.

"Oh, Cas. Are you really worried I'd think that?"

I swallow heavily, hating how vulnerable I feel. "It would just make sense if you did. I used to be so much more than I am now."

Dean shakes his head, eyes sad, before abruptly stepping forward and wrapping me in a hug. I squeeze my eyes shut against his shoulder, slipping my arms around his waist. I can feel tears stinging, but I'm determined not to let them fall. I've worked hard to gain control of my human emotions.

"You're more than enough," Dean murmurs into my hair, pressing a kiss there. He sighs, his breath warm across the tip of my ear. "You're still the same person, Cas. Your grace wasn't who you are. Being an angel wasn't who you are."

"How do you know?" I ask, my voice barely understandable, muffled.

He scuffs his nose against my temple. "Because I know you."

I squeeze him tightly, wanting to believe it. "I'm no use to you as a human. I can't protect you, I have no powers-"

"Stop it," he orders gruffly, fingers digging into my shoulder and back. "You ain't some weapon, Cas. Remember why you left Heaven in the first place? You aren't just a tool. You're a person. You know I always cared about more than your powers, right?"

I shrug in his arms, unwilling to speak, sure that my voice will break the way it never would have as an angel.

He pulls back and frowns down at me, close enough that I can see the patterns his freckles make across his skin. His hands settle on my shoulders, squeezing slightly. When he speaks his voice is mildly frustrated, like he's explaining the obvious. "Look, I felt the same way about you when you were an angel as I do now. And the way I feel about you… I…"

We stare at each other for several long seconds, my heart thumping, before Dean exhales softly and glances away. "Well, my feelings haven't changed. So, basically, neither have you. Not in any way that really matters. Make sense?"

"Yeah," I say hoarsely after a pause, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "That makes sense. Thank you, Dean."

He nods too, relief clear on his face, then steps back and clears his throat. "Look, despite being absolute bullshit because I don't wish you were still an angel at all, I guess it does make a pretty viable story. So we can go with that."

"OK," I agree, still smiling. Dean eyes me, suddenly nervous.

"You ready?"

The smile drops. I sigh. "Not really. But I have to go. I want to be in Fort Collins well before evening falls."

Dean nods, then steps back forward and kisses me soundly, hands warm on my waist. He pulls away. "Text me on the spare phone, remember? Keep me updated. Let me know if you need anything. And Jesus, Cas, be careful. Real careful."

"Yes," I say automatically, the panicky feeling in my chest matching the fear and worry in Dean's eyes. He stares at me for a moment before taking a deep breath and gently shoving me towards the door. I lay my trembling fingers on the handle, listening to his tense instructions behind me.

"Keep it simple. Yell me to fuck off and then just get on outta here. I'll go to the kitchen, try to stop them from following you and then make a bit of a fuss about you stealing the Impala."

"I have a feeling you won't need to do much acting for that," I comment wryly, pressing my ear to the door and listening hard to ensure that no one is outside.

"Yeah, no, I really won't. You'd better take care of Baby, Cas."

I turn back, smiling at his threatening tone, but my smile fades as our eyes hold.

"Alright," I whisper. "Here we go."

Dean inhales deeply. "Christ, this is ridiculous. OK. Let's go."

I pull the door open and stride down the hallway, eyes peeled for movement. I'm fairly sure that Sam and Kevin are in the kitchen, though. As we near the shared area of the bunker, Dean clears his throat about fifteen feet behind me. I speed up.

"Come on, Cas, don't be stupid," he snaps, voice carrying. I blur past the kitchen without even looking inside.

"Fuck off, Dean," I snarl just as loudly, imagining Metatron for extra authenticity. I'm reasonably pleased with how furious I sound. I wheel into the war room and stumble to a halt.

Sam and Kevin are sitting at the table, leaning over an enormous book, both staring at me in clear alarm. I'm frozen to the spot for several crucial moments, mouth hanging open, but I can hear Dean catching up so I rush past the table towards the stairs, heart thundering-

"Cas, what the-" Sam calls out, but I'm already starting up the stairs. I hear Dean enter the war room behind me and swear under his breath.

"Let him go," he says loudly and wildly, sounding more desperate than angry. I clatter up the stairs. "Like- like I fucking care. No, Sam, don't-"

Shit, Sam is actually coming after me. I sprint up the last few steps and heave the door open, glancing back once to see that Dean has grabbed hold of Sam's arm on the bottom step, both of them glaring at each other. Kevin has risen from his chair too, eyebrows raised comically high.

I slam the door, breathing hard, and scramble up the few steps towards the Impala. I almost drop the keys trying to unlock it but I manage it quickly, sliding in behind the wheel and sighing with relief when it only takes one go to start the engine. I take off in a rush, seeing the bunker door burst open, seeing Sam race up the steps shouting my name, looking frustrated and confused. Dean is on his heels and his eyes meet mine as he grabs his brother's elbow again, his expression hard and unreadable. Then I'm past them, roaring up the road, refusing to look in the rear view mirror.

My breathing doesn't slow for about ten minutes and it's only five minutes after that when my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. I grimace and fish it out, throwing it onto the passenger seat. I wonder just how dedicated Sam is going to be to fixing this false situation. He's going to give Dean such a hard time. I feel a little ill at the thought. At least my acting role is mostly over, although I'll have to respond to Sam at some point.

I take a deep breath and settle into the seat, hands loosening slightly on the steering wheel. This is awful, all of it, but we're on our way to finding a solution. We will save Sam and we will stop Metatron and Ezekiel. And Dean and I will be together again, soon.

But for now, I'm on my own.