A/N: As soon as my stupid class is over(5 more days, woohoo!), I'll actually have time to read some of the awesome stuff that's being posted around here…I'm making myself a list of everything I want to sit down and read as soon as this damn thing is over, and I'll probably be reading for hours, lol

As it is right now, it seems I study, work, go to class, and write at random inappropriate times during any of those three things, because Supernatural in general and specifically Dean/Cas is commanding my attention. *sigh*, lol

So…The Hardest Part was utterly depressing, and weird for me cause I usually love happy endings, especially if I've really screwed the characters over before they get to the happy ending so I was already kinda wishing I could 'fix' the mess I got them in(or at least that I needed to write some fluffy-ness to make up for it, lol), but then there was the thought (from oracle_thunder, thank you so much for the awesome inspiration)suggested of heavenly Dean confronting demonic Cas…and I think that that's incredible, and I started thinking it through…and came up with this, which I realized pretty quickly was not going to be a oneshot but would have to be an actual full on story(though it won't be too long, I don't think. But don't trust me on anything I say on length, lol).

This is not happy by any means, but the eventual ENDING will be happy, promise. :D

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Somehow, time passed differently in Heaven. Dean could remember the way it had passed in hell of course, but those thoughts were distant, and something in the very air in the place seemed to swat the memories out of his head when he tried to pin them down. In Heaven, something wouldn't let him dwell on them. But he did know that down there, it had been years and years longer than it should've, while up here he had totally lost track.

It had been a long time, but at the same time it hadn't been as long as it seemed logically it should have. For instance, it hadn't seemed that long at all before Sam had joined them, though he knew it had to have been because Sam had told him he'd been 75 when he died.

When it came down to it he wasn't sure about the time, but he also really didn't care. Today was either Saturday or Sunday, and depending on who he asked it was summer or it was fall. He saw summer, but Jess had said the trees in the backyard were already changing color. For her, they probably were. Things were different, up here.

Dean leaned back in his chair, reached over with one hand to turn up the radio beside him. It was all 70's and 80's rock, all the time, and it never played a bad song. Not once. Right now, Kansas' Point Of No Return was blaring from the speakers and he smiled, remembering how much he loved the album art for that one. If he bothered to get up and look, he was sure he'd be able to find it laying upstairs in his room now that he'd thought of it.

The front door slammed, and he heard his mother laughing, weakly pretending to protest something he was sure he didn't want to see. When he cocked his head in their direction he couldn't help but laugh, looking quickly away. "Hey, c'mon, I don't wanna go blind over here, alright?"

"Then go inside." John's voice was amused, light in a way Dean hadn't heard on earth since he was 4 years old.

He stood up, rolling his shoulders, reaching down to casually sweep up his beer. "Think I'll go see what Sammy's doin'."

"Wise."

Inside he could hear Jess in the kitchen, humming along with some kind of pop music on the radio as she made dinner. They didn't have to cook, of course, they could've had whatever they wanted, but she enjoyed it so she did the cooking herself when she felt like it. Sam wasn't far, huddled with his laptop on the living room couch, reading.

"You take up too much room, freak." Dean smirked, shoved Sam's legs off in the floor.

Sam let him without looking up, unphased. "Yeah, well, the Impala takes up room in the driveway. Think we should get rid of it, imagine something smaller?"

"Shut up."

Dean reached over to the end table, not at all surprised when the radio materialized under his fingers. It had taken some getting used to, in the beginning, but nothing here shocked him now. He turned it up again, but Sam didn't even wince. He didn't want to hear it, so he couldn't.

Dean shut his eyes, leaned back against the couch and drowned in the music. Now, it was Stairway To Heaven. Fitting. He didn't even look when he heard the door open, grinned anyway. "Much as it makes me want to bleach my brain even sayin' this, I thought you two'd be out there longer."

"Hello, Dean."

His eyes snapped open at that and he sat up quickly, ensuring that he'd heard right. He had. The man that stood in the doorway wore shining armor, almost the same shade of golden as the hair that hung over his deep brown eyes. "Michael." There was more than a little shock in the way he said the word and he shook his head, clearing it a little. "I ah…hey." He wasn't really sure what else to say.

Back in the day, in the time of the apocalypse, they had known each other fairly well. As one of the highest warriors of the Lord and the one who had caged Lucifer before, he had been assigned to fight the war by Dean's side in the hopes that together they could destroy him for good and bring Paradise on earth. That had been the hope, but it hadn't played out quiet like that. They'd been unable to destroy him, but had remained successful nonetheless, caging him in what the heavenly host assured them all was a far more binding entrapment than the 66 seals had been. There had been no paradise, earth returning to earth as it had been. Somehow, Dean had really been a little pleased. Life without pain wouldn't be quiet the same, or so he'd thought at the time. Now…well, his opinion hadn't changed, not really. But that didn't mean he wasn't enjoying life without pain. A hell of a lot.

Michael smiled, though Dean knew him well enough to tell it was forced. "How are you, Dean?"

"Me? Oh, I'm great. Family's great. Jess was just makin' dinner."

"It does me good to see you at peace." His smile turned genuine, for an instant. "But I'm afraid I need to speak with you about something of grave importance."

Dean's eyes cut over to meet Sam's an identical flash of worry in them. "Anything you wanna tell me, we can talk about with my brother."

Michael's eyes bored into him, deadly calm. "it's about Castiel."

And that was the one thing that still had the ability to hurt, the one thought that twisted his chest open if he lingered on it. Usually, he wasn't allowed to think about it very long, and even now he could feel the pain being smoothed over by some unidentifiable presence. He swallowed, looked at Sam again. "Is it time? Is Cas…is he dying?" He wasn't sure how long it had been, but he knew it had been long past when he expected Castiel to join him. For awhile, the pain had been a constant pricking at the back of his mind, recurring as soon as it was soothed away. As time passed, he and Sam had come to believe that Cas was probably still immortal, unable to join them because he was unable to die. Or, as Dean couldn't help but selfishly hope, that his lifespan would be long but not infinite, and one day they would be together again.

Michael looked at Sam, clearly unwilling to include him. "Dean, come speak with me. Please."

Dean ran a hand over his face, nodded. He didn't want to upset Sam, but if this was about Cas…

"Dean, no I-"

"Sammy, wait here." He didn't let him finish, only because he was right. Even though Cas was his lover, he had also been like a brother to Sam, and Sam had been with him 24/7 for almost 50 years. If Dean deserved news about him, Sam did too. Still, Michael clearly didn't feel like sharing and it would be easier to go along now and catch Sam up later than it would be to fight him.

He was barely on his feet and suddenly they were outside, walking on a path he didn't recognize with leaves swirling around their feet. Michael's eyes were straight ahead, focusing on something it seemed only he was seeing. "Forgive me for excluding Sam, but there is much of a personal nature we have to discuss and it did not seem…appropriate to involve him."

"He travelled with the guy for 50 years, how much more personal can you get?"

"You loved him."

Dean's breath caught, head turning away from the bare honesty of the statement. He took a breath, let his words come out quick. "Still do. Always will."

"We know. That's why I was sent to speak with you." Michael looked down, and Dean could see the worry etched into his every feature. "This will not be…easy to hear. Tell me, how much do you know about Castiel?"

Dean laughed, shrugging. "A hell of a lot. Can you be a little more specific? I mean, I lived with the guy for three years and we were together longer than that, so yeah, I'd say I know him pretty damn well. What's this about, is Cas in some kind of trouble?" He felt fear at the thought, and he realized with a shock that for the first time in he had no idea how long, he was actually feeling every emotion. Whatever this was about, Michael wanted him totally clear headed. Whatever this was, it couldn't be good.

"He's…." Michael paused, cocked his head. "Another question, perhaps. What did he tell you when he went with you the night you left to go to Sam, the night Lucifer was released?"

It was a long time ago, but that night had been an important one. "Not much. He came back with Ruby's knife, banished Zachariah, then told me we needed to go to Chuck because he'd know where Sam was. He stayed to hold off the archangel, met up with us later than night and angeled us back to the panic room at Bobby's, told me he'd made his choice and he was stayin' with me." He could feel the bittersweet warmth that accompanied the memory, the moment clear in his mind. They had been bringing in weapons out of the Impala when Cas had told him. He could still hear the words the way they'd sounded, low and rough and honest, still feel the way Castiel had felt against him when he'd pushed him back against the car, the way he'd whimpered when Dean kissed him, clutched at him like a drowning man. It hadn't been their first kiss by any means, but it had meant something different, something more real and permanent than the ones before it.

Michael nodded, understanding. "I see. There is much he kept from you, Dean, as I suspected."

Dean could feel panic, fear, hurt, a dozen things all at once. After years without them, the onslaught of the emotions was dizzying. "What are you saying? What happened that night; did he kill that archangel to protect us or something?"

"No, he killed no one that night. It's more the decision he made, one that set him on the path he is on now." They were in a clearing, now, and Michael stopped, leaning back gracefully against a fallen tree. "You see, we are different from you in so many ways. We were His first children, but He had you in mind even then. His love for you truly is an overwhelming thing." He paused, smiling at the thought. "You were created with free will, a beautiful, double-edged sword of a gift. You can choose to go against His will for you, if you like. We have no such luxuries. It's not like Anna told you, really, but I'm sure Castiel told you that much. We are not forbidden love or hate or any other emotion, what we are forbidden to do is let them get in the way. If he had loved you and kept doing his duty, nothing would changed. But Our Father is unfailingly fair, and if our kind wishes to take free will, though we have not been given it, we can. But if they take it, they have to be willing to accept the price as well."

"So you just…you kicked him out, is that it? That's why he can't come back?" He felt cold saying it, the words thick and heavy.

Michael's eyes were kind, but the worry still hadn't left them. "It's more than that, and I think you know it. The deserters, the original ones, they went with Lucifer in the fall. And those that desert since then, no matter their reason…they are fated to join the damned."

Rage took him off guard and he turned, slammed his fist into the nearest tree. It hurt but he couldn't bleed, and for that he hated this place. He hit it again, watched the bark crumble only to reform before his eyes. He fell against the trunk on one arm, chest heaving, and the tear that rolled down his cheek wasn't really a shock. "He knew, didn't he? He had to have."

"Yes. Castiel knew exactly what he was doing. I suspect he kept the truth from you because he knew you would blame yourself."

"I shouldn't have…I wouldn't have asked him to come, if I'd known, I wouldn't've-"

"He would have made the choice anyway. He was already considering it." Michael's voice came closer, but Dean wouldn't open his eyes. "He loved you, Dean. He wasn't sorry for what he did."

"How the hell could he be so stupid! After pulling me outta that place, everything he saw…" The thought of his angel in hell overtook him, and he could feel a scream clawing at the back of his throat. "It wasn't worth that."

"It wasn't? From what I know of you, wouldn't you have done it, to be with him?"

Yes. God, yes, he would've done it in a heartbeat. "That's different. I wasn't…I had already been there. I didn't have as much to lose."

"Of course you did. Anyone throwing their soul into the Pit has everything to lose, Dean, there are no shades of horror on that one. It is all horrible, and it is all a great price to pay. All that you're really saying is that you weren't worth it, isn't that it?"

His arm shook, tears flowing more freely. He could remember pain like this, before. Losing Sammy, losing dad, realizing the sacrifice his father had made…he had thought nothing else would ever be this crushing again. "He lied." His voice was whisper soft, broken.

"When?"

"He told me we'd…" He couldn't get it out, his throat closing up around the words. "He lied."

"He lied to protect you, Dean, to keep from hurting you. Because he loved you. I know you've done the same."

Dean's body shuddered, his hands clenching. "Why the hell are you tellin' me all this?"

"It isn't just to hurt you, Dean." Dean raised his head, did his best to force the pain under some kind of control. It was easier every minute, even though it had been so long he'd almost forgotten what it was to really hurt. "There is a…situation." Michael paced, hands clasped and against his lips as he thought, almost as if in prayer. "I know you've probably lost track of time, most souls here do, but it has been many years you have been here, 150 years since Castiel's death alone." He took a deep breath, his eyes burning with ancient sadness. "And it has been 18,000 years, in hell." He looked pained, saying it. As if the words themselves were tearing him apart. "Do you understand what I'm saying? What happens there, over that length of time?"

He did. God help him, he did. "No." He was shaking his head, slow and deliberate and a little desperate. "No, no that can't be. He can't…he wouldn't, he'd never-"

"He is. I'm sorry."

The images shoved themselves into his mind, brutal and invasive. Cas on the rack, bloody and screaming. Cas with the blade in his hands, carving up a nameless soul. Cas with black eyes… "No! No, dammit, he's stronger than me, he was always stronger than me or dad or-"

"Strength has little to do with it. He held out on the rack, Dean, for 321 years. Remarkable by anyone's standards, but even so that doesn't matter now." His eyes were dark, knowing. "There are few angels that become demons, as you can imagine. Lucifer, the first and the strongest. Azazel was another, and you knew of his strength firsthand. There were others, though most of them died in the last war, the one you helped win. There are a few still, but they are all old, old enough to have gone by choice, with Lucifer in the beginning. For an angel to be twisted, forged into a demon the way human souls are…it isn't easy. It's happened before, though at the present time there is only one alive. Castiel."

Hearing it like that sent a jolt through his heart that was actually strong enough to make him gasp, his nails digging into the bark of the tree. Castiel. A demon. It wasn't possible, it wasn't, it could never be, and his head was pounding with the discrepancy.

"I know that hearing this is hard, and I'm sorry to put you through it, but there's more."

He whirled to face the archangel, fury feeding off his pain. "More? How the fuck can there be more, Michael? You're telling me something's worse than this? Cause I gotta tell you, it can't get worse than hearing that he…" He swallowed, shook his head. "How can you possibly have something worse?"

Michael sighed, thumb sliding absently over the ruby in the hilt of his sword. "There is a prophesy that-"

"There's always a goddamn prophesy, isn't there?"

"Watch your language, Dean, please. You know I'm not as tolerant of it as he was."

The words were clipped, annoyed, but Dean didn't care. He had no right to mention Cas, not now, not after everything he'd just said. Dean charged him, one solid punch connecting against the archangel's jaw before he was thrown back, landing flat on his back in the leaves a good 6 feet away with the breath knocked out of him and his fingers throbbing.

For a moment they stared each other down, Dean's gaze belligerent and Michael's warning. He turned a little away, resumed his story as if nothing had happened. "Do you really think there have been no prophets since your time? Are you that narrow minded?" He shook his head once, continued. "There is a prophecy, and it speaks of this. You remember, of course, the way we contained Lucifer. The lock that we thought could never be broken."

The realization hit him with the force of a truck to the chest, and Dean sat up, his head falling into his hands. "An angel has to open the door."

"Yes. But the war itself isn't the entire problem, not exactly. We've been fighting this battle since the dawn of time, and as you realized when we allowed the seals to be broken, there are times we wish to bring it on in the hope of ending. It isn't just Lucifer's rise we have to fear here, however." His eyes met Dean's, his expression unreadable. "Only an angel can kill an angel, and he is an abomination with the blood of both. He could kill us, many of us, and the prophecy says that he will. And with our numbers decimated, he will release Lucifer and the forces of Hell will gain control of the earth."

"Jesus." Dean didn't even bother trying to hold the blasphemy in, wasn't exactly surprised to feel a wince of pain as the air crackled with Michael's anger. He didn't care. "If you knew all of this before, why didn't you-"

"We didn't. The Lord knows all, but we are allowed only select information at a time. We did not know until the prophets wrote of it, and from the moment they did we have known this day would come."

Dean turned his head, already exhausted under the emotional strain. His life had been screwed to hell, once, and now he was remembering just how dark that felt. "Why did you need to tell me this, huh? Isn't the whole point of this place getting away from all of that? I could've…I could've been happy forever not knowin' this." There had been pain waiting on Cas, hoping to see him again but that had been pushed away by Heaven itself, the moments it actually hurt few and far between. At its worst, it had been nothing close to this.

"We need your help again, Dean. I'm sorry, I know you thought you were finished, but we must ask this of you."

Dean met his gaze, wary. "Ask what?"

From the pouch he wore on his belt Michael drew something Dean could recognized even if it had been millennia since he'd seen it, and Dean was on his feet before it was even all the way in the open.

"No. Hell no. I refuse, I don't care where you send me. You put that away and you find someone else." His voice shook as he said it, breath quickening as he leapt to his feet. They could send him to hell if they wanted, but there were things they could never make him do. No matter what Cas had done.

Michael stroked the Colt, his touch almost loving. "Do you think there aren't hunters I could have given this to, hm? There are; three or four of them in fact that might have been up to the task. And they would have taken this gun and not hesitated to put a bullet in him, or died trying." He looked up, his eyes blazing. "And I still believe that to be the correct course of action, but my opinion does not matter. I obey my Father. And the orders I have received command that I send you."

"Well you can tell them I don't give a shit what you want." He stepped forward, anger strengthening him. "I won't do this. Not for anything, not even to stay here. Do you understand?"

"You haven't even let me tell you just what it is I am to send you to do, Dean. Sending you back just to pull a trigger would be waste, as I've explained. You shouldn't be arrogant enough to think you're the only hunter capable of firing a well aimed shot."

Dean held his tongue, let him speak and didn't dare to hope.

"Whatever you may have come to believe, God is merciful above all else. And He wishes that every effort be made to…reclaim our own."

Dean's jaw clenched, held back several things he wanted to say. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, redemption. Forgiveness, should he turn around. Our Father wishes him to be the ultimate symbol of redemption, a…mark, a testament to Heaven's forgiveness and love." Michael tilted his head, conceding a point. "And though I disagree it is written that if he could be turned, it could turn the tide. Rejuvinate faith in God among the host, even among men. Enough that we may win this war, for good. Either way, I must agree that the tactical advantage in having one that knew their plans would be unparalleled."

"Yeah, well, excuse me for not believe you, but I've heard that before. Back when I was told it was my destiny to kill Lucifer and usher in paradise on earth. So at this point I think your save-the-world prophesies are all crap, personally."

"Nothing is quiet written in stone, Dean. The prophesies cannot be broken but there is…leniency in which direction they flow. This war has been fought over and over for millennia, and each and every time we have hoped for an end. You should understand, Dean. In the same way that man must have faith in God, God must have faith in man, and in us. He can see the larger picture, but it is in our hands when it ends. And He must know that someday, it will. But He has to let us do it. On our own."

"You know an awful lot about what He wants, but from what I hear your superiors-"

"I have no superior but my Father." Michael smiled, and for a moment he looked like a benevolent angel instead of a warrior. "Did I never tell you before? I have spoken with Him. Many times. And it is from that source that this order comes, and no other. He believes if there is any hope of redeeming Castiel, it will have to be through you. You are to go to him, do your best to reach him. But this is a chance, Dean, and a very slim one." He held the Colt out meaningfully, and Dean resisted the urge to flinch. "If you fail, my orders take precedence. If he cannot be turned, he must be destroyed. You must be willing to do this."

"No." It came out rough, raw emotion he wasn't even trying to hide. "No. I had this laid on me once before, I won't do it again."

"You didn't do it before. You let Sam continue, all the way through breaking the last of the seals. If you had killed him when you probably should have, that never would have happened."

"But look at him! He made it! He's still Sam. I was not about to give up on him, and I'm not givin' up on Cas either." He took a breath, the familiar nickname twisting his heart painfully. "I can't. I won't. So I'll go down there and I'll bring him back. But that's it. I'm not takin' the Colt."

"If you fail-"

"God wants me to save him, and I'll save him. I swear it." There was no other choice. Having to see Castiel as a demon was going to be hard enough, but he could stomach it if he was going to save him. That was the only way it could possibly be bearable, and he couldn't even begin to consider what might happen if he failed.

"Do you think this is easy for me to ask, Dean? Castiel was a friend to me for more years than you can possibly imagine. No matter what he did, I would never have wanted to be ordering his death. But one thing I know…he would not have wanted to end up like this. And you know it too." The Colt was still held out, expectant. "He wouldn't have wanted to live like this, Dean. You know it. If you love him, you will be willing to do what must be done."

He didn't want to hear it, could hardly bear to hear it, but he knew Michael was right. The last thing Castiel would have ever wanted was to hurt anyone, much less to become a ring leader in hell's wolrd domination plans. If…If there was nothing else…

Slowly, Dean reached out, his very soul shuddering as his fingertips brushed the wood of the grip. His fingers closed carefully around it, and he felt Michael let go, the weight resting in his hand.

"I knew you would understand."

Dean's eyes hardened, his hand whipping back quick to slide the gun in the waistband of his jeans, out of sight. Even then, the cold metal of the barrel against his back was impossible to ignore. It was there, and there would be no pretending it wasn't. "All I understand is that you wouldn't let me outta here unless I took the damn thing, but that does not mean I'm gonna use it."

There was sympathy, almost pity in Michael's eyes. "You don't understand, Dean, and you won't until you see him, but it's not as if you can walk up to him, tell him you love him, and break some sort of spell. It isn't like that. He won't remember you, Dean. He won't even know your name much less what the two of you had. It'll be buried deep, so deep it would take a lot of hard work to make him remember, and I doubt you'll have a chance to take the kind of time that would need. In all honesty I don't even believe this is possible, and I think it would be kinder if we had left you alone. However, my orders are my orders. I do as I'm told."

Dean held his head up, determined. "Oh he'll remember me. I can get through to him."

"Don't be so sure. You don't know what he's like, now. He's a monster."

He chose to ignore that, shoved the thought away. "When I bring him back, this is over? It's done, I come back here and he gets to come with me?"

"If he can be recovered, yes, when this crisis has been averted he will be able to return with you." Michael held a hand up, stopping any further words. "But that is unlikely, Dean. I wouldn't hope."

"I want to see Sam, before I leave."

"He'll only want to come with you. If you want that I'm sure it can be arranged but-"

"No." Of course he wanted it. There hadn't been a moment in his life since the day that kid was born that he hadn't wanted him right by his side, but this wasn't really about what he wanted. He tried to make sure it was always what was best for Sam that won out, not what was best for himself. As much as he didn't want to face this alone, he wasn't about to put Sam through it. "No, I'm doin' this one alone. But I will see him first, understand?"

Michael hesitated before relenting, a single nod. "As you wish. When you're done you'll be transported to the town we expect he's travelling to; they have been demonic omens for the past week."

The thought of Cas being associated with demonic omens was somehow another level of real, and he could feel tears pricking at his eyes again, muscles aching with the urge to beat the shit of something, anything. "I want this body, down there. I need to look the same." More to the point, he needed to keep his scar. The one Cas had given him, the one remaining from the first time Castiel had saved his life.

Michael nodded, agreeing. "An understandable request. But Dean?" Their eyes lock, Michael's radiating sorrow. "Don't expect to succeed. I say this only for your own good. He will not know you, and he will almost certainly try to kill you."

Dean looked away, his jaw clenched hard. "Take me to Sam."

The scenery changed into his own living room right before his eyes, and he wasn't surprised to find Sam sitting on the edge of the couch, his eyes wide and expectant.

"Dean!"

"Hey, Sammy." Dean smiled, tugged his shirt down just a little farther, casually. He had to be sure the Colt was well hidden from view.

"What was that about? Is Cas alright?"

He shrugged, fought the clamoring in his chest that urged him to tell his little brother everything. That would only make him feel better, not Sam. "He will be. But he's gotten himself into a little trouble, so they're sending me down to straighten him out. Shouldn't take long, then I'll be back ok?"

Sam was on his feet then, eyes bright and earnest. "Let me come with you. Whatever it is, if he's in trouble I'm sure you're gonna need my help."

"Yeah, me too, but you know how these angel guys are…orders and all. I have to go alone." The familiar sickening pain associated with lying to Sam settled into his gut. "It'll be ok, promise. I'll be back real soon." He jerked his head toward the front door, motioning. "Hey, let them know where I've gone when they get back, ok? Don't want anyone worrying." As if they could for long, in this place.

"But Dean-"

"Hey." Dean stepped forward enough to clap a hand on Sam's shoulder, putting on the best calm face he could manage for his brother's sake. "it's fine, ok? Just…wait for me." He could see the fear in Sam's eyes, enough that it was shining through even under what he knew had to be repeated attempts to wash it away. "I'm not leavin' you, Sammy. I'll be back."

Sam swallowed, nodded, let his hand rest on Dean's arm for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah ok. Look, tell him…tell him I wish-"

"I will, don't worry." Dean stepped back, ready. "Seriously, Sam, don't worry about it dude. I'll be back before you know it." Here, that was at least slightly true. However long it was, it wouldn't seem nearly as long to Sam.

In the blink of an eye, before Sam could even answer, he was gone.

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A/N: So…there's the set up to how things are gonna go from here. Had to cram a lot of information in there, and I had to make some shit up as believably as I could in order to fit where I need to go with this, so I hope it all fit together and made some kind of sense, lol

Next chapter will be where things really start to get interesting, and unfortunately I won't have time to write that for a few days considering the four tests I have this week. *squeaks* but, soon.

This is really weird and totally out there, I know, so everyone let me know what you think! ^^