Cas coughed up a mixture of blood and saliva. He was lying on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood that was pouring from the gaping wound in his stomach. Dean was knelt next to him, clutching his arm, crying. A collection of men were stood on all sides watching sadly. "I'm- I'm so sorry- I didn't-." One was stuttering. His blond hair was splattered with blood and some more was dripping down his front and his hands. A knife, covered in Cas' blood, was lying on the floor next to the blond man. "He just- Scared me- I didn't know it was him- He came out of nowhere- I didn't mean to!"

The man fell silent as Cas choked, more of his blood spitting out of his mouth. Dean was desperately trying to stem the flow of blood that was pouring from Cas' wound.

"Dean." Sam said quietly. He knew that there was no hope for Castiel, not now that he was human. Sam had seen people die from a lot less and they were at their physical peak. Cas wasn't strong; he was barely recovered from his fall and still didn't sleep or eat much.

"No." Dean spat as Cas convulsed on the floor. He would not, could not, accept that Cas was dying. He knew that the damage was too much. He knew that there was nothing that could be done... But he wasn't going to accept that yet.

"Dean-." Cas coughed. "Dean stop."

"No." Dean protested. "You aren't going to- I'm not going to- You aren't dying here. Not now. Not after everything. Not after what we've been through." Dean gripped Cas' hand urgently.

"Dean, it's okay." Cas whispered, low enough that only Dean could hear.

"No it's not... It's not okay. I need you, Cas." Dean replied, looking down at Cas, half-glaring at him, almost daring him to die.

A couple of men shifted uncomfortably. A dark-haired man stood right at the edge of the room turned away, covering his face to conceal his sadness.

"Dean." Cas said, softly, attempting a smile. "You don't need me. You never did. You could always manage by yourself. It's true Dean." He added when Dean opened his mouth to protest. "You and Sam are the real team. You are brothers after all." He smiled weakly.

"Cas you are so much more than my brother. You are my best friend, you're my family and..." Dean took a deep breath. "Cas, I love you." He whispered, his eyes blurring with tears and his face creasing in his bitter and painful grief.

Cas smiled with a sad form of happiness and gazed up at the other man, "I know, you idiot."

Dean let out a choked laugh.

Cas looked at the other man with an amused pity. "Dean, you used to pray to me. I could literally hear your thoughts." Cas chuckled. Keeping one hand on the wound he weakly lifted his right hand up and placed it on Dean's neck. He pulled Dean down until they were barely an inch apart. "I love you too." He breathed.

"You chose a Hell of a time to tell me." Dean whispered before Cas pressed his lips against Dean's, both of their tears streaming down their faces and mixing on their lips and in their kiss.

As they separated Cas began to cough violently. Tears pouring down his face, Cas looked up at Dean, his vision becoming less clear by the second. "Dean, don't be afraid." He panted, desperately. "We'll see each other again. We will. Sooner or later we will meet again." His words were getting faster and he was nodding urgently and erratically.

He paused and took a deep, shaky breath, attempting to calm himself.

He closed his eyes.

One final deep breath.

The blue eyes opened for a final time.

"Goodbye Dean."

Cas spoke his final words quietly and the ex-angel died, maybe not peacefully, but happily, in the arms of his hunter.

'Don't be afraid...We'll see each other again... We will meet again...'

Dean was shaking as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked himself straight in the eye.

'Goodbye Dean.'

Dean let out a gasp of air, hands gripping the cold sink tightly, arms barely holding him there.

Dean shook his head slightly, breathing deeply, slowing his heart rate. Cas' words 'We'll see each other again' were echoing round and round in his mind. How soon could Dean see him? Would Cas be brought back to him or did he have to go to Cas?

Dean shuddered as he stood there; arms trembling.

He pulled out the blade he carried in his jacket and held it up to the light. It wouldn't take much, one little cut, one little slice. Maybe some pain but that wouldn't last. He knew how to make it quick; he had done it to others often enough.

He turned away from the mirror, his mind flickered to Sam. Was it worth it? Sam had had to bury him often enough and he didn't have Bobby or Ellen or anyone left to help him. Dean shook his head. Sam would be fine; he'd have to be. Besides, Sam had gotten through this plenty of times. He'd find someone, another Jess or Sarah or Madison or Amelia, and he would get through it.

Dean placed the tip of the knife directly over his heart, ready to plunge it in so he could be with Cas.

"You better be waiting for me." Dean said clearly. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes tightly, and stabbed the knife straight into his heart.

"Glad to see you made it." A familiar voice smiled sadly. "But you could have waited."

"Cas." Dean breathed.

He span round, dropping the silver knife. It hit the ground with a dull thud, the blood-stained tip buried deep into the soft earth, as Dean ran. Ran as fast as he could towards his fallen-angel. Towards his Heaven. Towards Cas.