Love them, God had commanded. Love them more than anything in my creation. Love them more than your brothers and sisters. Love them more than me. Lucifer had refused, and been cast out of Heaven.

Perhaps it's nothing more than any of us deserved.

There's something backwards, almost blasphemous that I should be here: an angel about to turn to a human for help. It was supposed to fall to us to protect humanity: to guard humans, to guide them. Yet somehow the opposite has unravelled and here I am, watching a savior of humanity rake leaves while I prepare to ask him to save Heaven too, when already I owe you so much.

Love them, my father had commanded. Without you, I never would have understood the meaning of it.

Love them selflessly, the way you loved Sam when you sold your soul.

Love them unconditionally, the way you loved Sam even with demon blood in his veins.

Love them absolutely, the way you've loved Sam your whole life.

You taught me what it means to love humanity, Dean, and it's cost you everything.

I wait, the words sitting voiceless on my tongue. Another minute slips past. Then another. In the grand scheme of things it's so fleeting: a heartbeat at the end of a millennium, an atom slipping from a knife edge. Yet to you it's an eternity wrapped up in a moment, another minute spent without your brother.

I'm so sorry, Dean. I wish I could have given him back to you in a way that would fix things, allow you both to heal, but in that I failed. I've done nothing to earn your help.

A breeze blows past us, silently ruffling my wings before stirring the leaves at your feet. I can't see your face, but I can picture it. You rake them back to your pile without annoyance, without expression. You aren't happy. Of course you aren't, though perhaps you are content. Maybe that's the most you can ever be without your brother. You have a woman who loves you, a child who looks up to you as a father - and you are a good father, Dean, even without ever knowing a good example of one - and you're out. No more hunts, no more angels, no more demons, for the few minutes until I ask you to come back in.

I should speak now, yet I don't.

You don't know I'm here. Maybe part of you suspects, senses the angelic presence at your back, but perhaps not. You always were too grounded: anchored in what you can see and touch and feel and not what you can simply sense. Sam was always the brother with faith; attuned to things beyond this plane of existence even without Azazel's interference. But Sam isn't here.

Perhaps it's for the better. I have no right to ask this of you.

Heaven needs me to. We've pushed ourselves to the brink of destruction and without your help I'll have to turn to places I'm ashamed of and do things you'll despise me for, yet I can't bring myself to do this to you.

You taught me to love humanity, Dean. And now maybe I love you too much.

The wind blows again. Another gentle breeze stirs the leaves and still I can't see your face, but it's almost a relief. For what I'm about to do, I wouldn't want you to see mine.

I bow my head, my wings unfurl, and I turn away. Maybe tomorrow you'll hate me for this, but I can't ask anything more of you.

Love them, my father had commanded. Maybe I'm about to fall in every way. Maybe I won't be forgiven. But for that one command, please understand that I do, Dean. I do.