A/N Yes! It is over! There were times, I didn't know if I would finish it, but I managed. And you managed with me... people who I made wait 2 years for 8 chapters... I'm a horrible person, aren't I? Yeah.. well, enjoy.

Chapter 7

Day Seven

a.k.a

Seven Days Are All It Takes

Dean couldn't believe his eyes when he came downstairs the morning after. The whole room was a mess- the dishes still sat on the table, staring at him wordlessly, the cover on the sofa was wrinkled, there was a book lying on the floor, and the TV... the TV was still on, buzzing softly, whispering of sweet cuddles and tempting warmth. But something was wrong in this picture, something so out of place he couldn't put it back. Because someone must have taken care of all this, there were millions of demons just dying, figuratively speaking, to get out of Hell, even if they had to do housework as a result.

And you would think after he had killed their king, they would be tripping over themselves to kiss his ass. Those were demons for you- damn unreliable.

He sighed and, instead of continuing to try to understand the mentality of such low creatures, he opted for cleaning the house instead. It was a tedious job, monotone and painfully dull, but it was enough to occupy his mind and make sure it didn't stray in a Cas... bad, he meant bad, direction. It was enough to forget, even for a second, the body he had woken up next to, the first thing that he had seen.

Someone cleared their throat behind him and he twisted around, body tense and ready for battle, fingers curling around the dishes, ready to use them if necessary, no matter how ridiculous. He knew who it was of course, that aroma he could never mistake, but it was an instinct engraved in his bones. It has always been kill or being killed and his time in Hell hadn't helped much to make that side of him disappear.

Castiel nodded in his direction, his hands fumbling with the tie. Dean knew he should feel intimidated or at least a little bit threatened. Because there was the angel who had saved him so many times, who had suffered the most, more than even himself, and he had been trained by the best. The most powerful angel in his eyes, with his brown trench coat and wrinkled suit and piercing blue eyes. With bed hair, and that, that brought back all sorts of memories that he didn't know he will ever have the will power to delete And he had used that angel, for one last perfect day. Yet all he could sense inside of him was a swelling ball of adoration and gentleness. He scratched his neck, doing his best to suppress the urge to smile, or worse- to shower the other's face with kisses.

"I'm sorry about yest..." he begun when the silence stretched for far too long, when he felt those eyes had bored holes in his skull enough eternities.

"It was enjoyable." Shaking his head slightly, Cas interrupted him. He finally ducked his head, because of the incredulous look Dean sent his way. At least the angel took it as shock when it fact it was only an attempt to cover the hopefulness and the earning. "I'm an angel- I can't lie. I had a very good time. We would have made a fine couple, you and me, if I hadn't remembered."

Dean was just about to make a comment about those words, which usually would have earned him a blond bimbo on his lap in ten seconds flat when Cas tilted his head and continued in an indifferent voice. It was almost like a change of his personality and thinking back the demon/angel was almost glad it had happened. Something told him his witty remark wouldn't have been given the same recognition it deserved.

"He is calling for you."

"Who? Where?" He grimaced. He didn't need the answers to those questions. "About what?"

It had to be a fucking emergency if he was expecting him to leave Cas alone. Not after memories of yesterday, of the promise the now fully developed angel had made. Actually, now that he thought about it, not even Heaven being on fire could make him take his eyes off Castiel for even a second.

The other smiled. Dean didn't really know if it was supposed to look that way, or Cas had been aiming for a grimace and in the last second had gone for lifting the corners of his mouth.

"You think Michael did it all for you? He had been after the throne for so long, ever since you were just aimlessly swimming fishes." Something appeared in his eyes, but he averted them before Dean could figure out what it was. "It would be the same thing, now. Heaven won't change, it will stay corrupted, wicked, with everyone who is different, who has an opinion or show emotions cast aside... the same. And they want you to be a part of it."

Cas nodded once, more to himself than to Dean. "I should go, then. Goodbye, Dean. I'd say I'd be glad to meet you again, but as you know I'm an angel."

The first thing that Dean wanted to do was argue, about anything and everything, even about nothing if it would keep his angel close. He didn't want to be a part of any universal plan, he didn't want to rule the world. He had never done that.

And it must have been tempting, for someone who had never been able to choose his fate to be the master of the whole world. But if he had to choose between this and a few more seconds with Castiel... well, reign supreme, hell, anything, didn't stand a chance.

So, there was nothing more important than chasing after the other man in his mind. And maybe even telling him how he felt. It could be alright, couldn't it? They had both been through so much that they deserved a little happiness. It was nice to hope.

Of course, when he turned around to put down the dishes still in his hands, a bright light surrounded him. He briefly wondered if celestial creatures felt pain as he prepared himself to use the dishes in a way they had never been used before.

Hours and so much yelling and insults later, Dean found his angel sitting on a bench in front of a church. It hadn't been hard to spot him, all of his senses assisting him in his quest and he knew he had come as soon as possible. Nevertheless, the gnawing fear that he had been too late, that he had taken too long with Michael, was killing him.

Castiel lifted his head and his hollow eyes met Dean's pained ones. It was the stare of a stranger, carefully empty, not like before. The way Dean was used to- empty, but only on the surface. If you scratched it you would find emotions brighter than you have ever seen, hear laughter, brief but able to bring your heart the joy it didn't know it was missing.

There was nothing like that here.

And Dean hated the relief that washed through him when the other looked away.

"Do you remember this?" Cas asked slowly, each sound pronounced clearly, as if afraid he might forget a word if he spoke faster. "It was a playground. Long ago. But people decided they needed more churches."

Dean looked around briefly, too scared that if he took his eyes off the other he might disappear, and sure enough, he remembered that place. It had been here where he first saw Castiel as something more than a mighty prick. The first time that he looked at him and thought, 'He is not that bad, this angel'. Something twisted in him and he squirmed in his seat. Castiel still hadn't moved.

"I fell in love with you on that bench."

The demon/angel suddenly felt like he had ran a hundred miles and his heart was beating so fast it might have looked like it wasn't moving at all. He opened his mouth, gulping air desperately and he just knew that hadn't he been a supernatural creature he would have hyperventilated already.

"Oh...that's..."

"Pathetic?"

Cas ducked his head, eyes searching the other's face, but now it was Dean's turn to be stuck motionless.

"Sweet," the other whispered. "Oh, Cas." His lips twitched, threatening to let the laughter bubbling in his chest out. But one look at his companion told him it wouldn't be that easy. It rarely was.

"So what do you intend to do now?" The line was strangely familiar, sodden with uncertainty and fear, just like the last time he had spoken it.

"My grace would need a little time to settle. Then I would carry on with my initial wish."

"So you are still going to do it?" His voice was a little higher than he expected and a lot quieter than in his mind was reasonable for response to such a thing. When Cas didn't reply, didn't move at all, he had to do everything in his willpower to stop himself from bursting out. "For fuck's sake, Cas, why don't you give me a chance? A year, a month, hell, I will be happy with a day if it means there is a possibility to change your mind."

"I don't think you will like the new me." The words were spoken so lightly that if it hadn't been for the grief to make them heavy, they would have disappeared into the thin air before being heard.

Dean shook his head."It's not about me. I fell in love with angel- Cas and human- Cas, don't doubt for a second that I won't, that I don't, love you. But you are the one who has to fight the bad memories, angel. To try to outweigh them with good ones. And that's all I'm asking- let me help you live with those memories."

"And what if I can't?"

A long time passed until Dean replied. And when he did, his voice was gravelly. "I can tell you that you will get over them, I can promise that it'll get better, but I won't." He sighed and then smiled, it was a little strained, as if his muscles were refusing to cooperate, however, it was all he could manage. "I can't lie to you. But I can erase them."

He twisted in his seat, his hands raising in the universal sign of "I'm harmless" And he was, so much that a week ago he would have been disgusted with himself. He meant only good- Cas' good. And if by any chance that didn't mean his good, too, then, well... tough luck.

Dean wrapped his hands around Cas' head, his fingers twisting in dark lock, the only luxury he allowed himself.

After all, if that was the last time he was talking to Cas as he had known him, the last time he was allowed to touch him... He didn't let himself finish that thought. It was too painful, but he also risked talking himself out of it. And there was no scenario in which he didn't respect his former lover's wish.

So focused on his task, he almost jumped when a second pair of hands pressed against his own, entwining their fingers together. He was insulted, for a second, how dared Cas doubt his devotion, when he was forsaking everything for him. But then he felt a tug and his heart almost stopped.

Dean had to be mistaken, it couldn't be so easy. He never got what he wanted. But the seed of blind, consuming faith was planted and he let himself relax, just so he could see what would happen. And sure enough, as he had dared to hope for half a second, Castiel removed his hands.

"Give you a day, you say?" The angel smiled and it was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen. "Why not seven?"

The other had just enough brain left to respond appropriately- by leaning forward and connecting their lips in a sweet kiss.

A/N I'm also thinking about an epilogue, since it would be interesting (for me) to see how it will go. I dunno... I will do my best to write one.