"Sonofabitch," was all that Dean Winchester could mutter, curled up in a ball to fight against the pain the swept through his midsection. Blood poured from his deep wounds and throbbed in time with the beating of his heart. He heard the howls in the distance, and just hoped it would stay that way until it was over. There was no point in fighting anymore.

Sam was gone.

It was supposed to be a normal werewolf hunt with a simple silver bullet to the heart. They had done this ritual dozens of times over the years but whenever they got too comfortable, something bad happened. Dean should have known better. He could still see the werewolf descend upon Sam while the other pinned himself down. Blood splattered as both Winchesters grunted in pain, trying to get leverage over the creatures. Dean was finally able to kick the werewolf in his gut and as it lunged again, he pulled the trigger and it fell down dead. He stumbled to his feet and killed the other one that was tearing Sam apart. But he knew it was too late. Apologies flew from their lips towards one another as the elder tried to put pressure on the bleeding. Soon his hands were pushed away and Sam was the one who consoled him as his breaths grew lighter and farther in between.

Dean pleaded for him to stay, but the injuries were too severe. He held his little brother in his arms as he released his final breath.

Now he was alone. His shirt was saturated with his blood and stuck to his skin. Darkness began to creep into his mind, warm and almost soothing. Memories from his childhood up to last week flashed through his mind. Sam. His mother and father. Ben and Lisa. Cassie. Anna. Ash. Bobby. Ellen. Jo. Castiel. His battered mind focused on the name of the angel who pulled him from the burning pit of hell. Saved him, and rebelled against every thing engrained into his being. All for Dean, and he never showed much appreciation. He always demanded so much from Castiel, and hardly ever said thank you. Guilt rushed through him, intensifying the pain.

A flutter of wings and a light breeze brushed across his face. He looked up to see Castiel standing over him, face grave and nearly carved out of stone. All except for his eyes. The pain that Dean felt was magnified in his deep blue eyes as the angel kneeled down next to his broken body.

"C-Cas..."

"Dean," Castiel's rough voice replied, his hands pressed against the gaping wounds. A cry of pain escaped Dean's lips and he pushed the prying hands away.

"Don't."

"But I can heal you."

"Sammy's gone."

"I am sorry I was not here earlier. Raphael tried-"

"Not your fault. I... understand. Never appreciated you."

"Dean, please do not talk. Let me heal you."

"Don't want it."

"You wish to die?"

"I'm tired, Cas. Of it all." Dean looked up at Castiel with pained green eyes. His skin was nearly translucent from the loss of blood. Castiel wondered how the hunter was hanging onto life when death was so close.

"Dean, if you do not-"

"Take me home. To Lawrence."

"But why-"

"Cas. Please."

"If it is what you want," Castiel pressed two fingers to Dean's creased forehead and within an instant they were in a field in Sam and Dean's hometown. It's nighttime, and the stars are thick amongst the dark sky. He narrowed his brow as the man in his arms grunted. He felt the blood seep from the deep wounds but obeyed Dean's request and did not touch them. "Why are we here?"

"Was born here. Wanted to die here," Dean clutched a handful of Castiel's trenchcoat to fight against unconsciousness. "Is Sammy okay? Not in hell?"

"He is fine and no, he is not in hell," Focused for a moment, Castiel's head is tilted in the way that used to annoy Dean. Now it would be something he was going to miss. "He's with Bobby and your parents."

"Deserves peace. Tried so hard to fix shit."

"You deserve peace as well, Dean."

"I'm the reason he's dead."

"The werewolf killed him."

"Because I didn't-" A cough wracked through Dean's weakened body. He groaned and clutched at his tattered torso. "Cas..."

"Your time is close."

"Will we see you up there?"

"My realm is not with human souls. The war is raging on. I cannot-" Castiel's words were halted when Dean's hand cupped his cheek. "What are you doing?"

"Just... shut up," Dean brought their lips together for a soft kiss. He pulled away slightly, their foreheads pressed against one another. "Wish I had done that sooner."

"Dean."

"Had to show you. It's hard to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"...I love you, Cas. Always have."

"Dean..."

"Don't make this awkward, Cas-"

"I love you, too."

"You do?"

"Yes," Castiel nodded and leaned down to kiss Dean, passionately this time. He could feel the energy leaving Dean's body as they parted. "I will come see you."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

"Thank you..." Dean trailed off and cupped Castiel's cheek once more with a tired smile. The angel placed his hand over his and a faint smile crossed his lips. Without thought, he found himself singing to the man he had fallen in love with. His breaths became shallow and far in between.

"Carry on my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done," Castiel kissed the tip of Dean's nose and watched as the deep green eyes closed for the last time and heard the last breath be exhaled. "Lay your weary head to rest," Now a kiss to the forehead. He felt Dean's soul leave his body and arrive in heaven, finally at peace. He kissed his closed eyelids. "Don't you cry no more."

Castiel gently placed Dean's hand against his still chest. He ran his fingers through the man's soft hair and wished they had said something to one another. However, at least he knew. He also knew their kind of love and bond was strong enough to test elements and time. His heart tugged and he looked up at the sky.

"I'll see you soon, Dean Winchester."