Um, I appear to have committed another fic. Without finishing the one I'm currently working on. This should be shorter, and it will definitely need to be finished by the time Hellatus ends because otherwise it's going to be killed dead by the next episode. It will also most definitely be Dean/Castiel with the potential to go up in rating for the last chapter. The only excuse I have is that I took a line, took an archangel and ran with it all.

Disclaimer: I've checked but it isn't mine. Which is probably a good thing given what I get up to with them.

A Profound Bond.

Life, Dean Winchester has decided, has a way of jumping up and biting you in the ass right when you think things are finally getting back on track. Sam is back in his life, his soul restored and the barrier between mind and memories of Hell firmly in place. Death told Sam not to scratch at the wall, and for the moment Sam seems to be following those orders. Bobby is alive, well, walking and as crotchety as ever. His soul is his own again and this has become one less weight on Dean's mind.

Ben and Lisa are probably safer now than they have been since the hunter waltzed back into their lives. He walked away from them, was pushed away from them, lost the best chance that he had ever had of having a family through his own stupidity. Domesticity and hunting, he has realised, do not mix, however, and perhaps it is better this way. Ultimately there is only one wrinkle in Dean's list of people he cares about being alive and well.

Castiel.

Dean knows that he has not treated the angel in the best way that he can. He knows that he has been short tempered, demanding and totally ignorant of everything that Castiel has been going through. He has allowed his own needs and his own problems to come first and has expected the same of a being that he has the gall to call friend even with the way that he treats him. The war in Heaven is so remote, however, so far removed from Dean's day to day life, that he almost finds it easy to forget about it. Now that the issue with Sam's soul has been practically resolved, however, Dean finds that his mind is on Castiel's problems with increasing frequency.

Cas has told him that there is nothing that he can do to help with the situation. This does not mean that Dean is not going to try anyway. No matter how he has treated the angel, no matter how he has been abandoned by him, Castiel is still Dean's friend.

He tries to pretend that he is not as concerned as he really feels, tries to pretend that he does not care so much about the angel that he calls friend because caring simply means that he is hurt more often. It only causes him more pain and that is all that it has ever done. It does not stop him from wondering if there is something else that he could do.

He keeps his thoughts to himself, Sam is angry with him for pushing about the soul and ignoring the wishes of a husk filled with only memories. Bobby most likely would not understand at all given that Castiel is hardly his favourite being in existence.

Sometimes he prays to the angel, shares his thoughts and his research. Occasionally he prays out of genuine need, sometimes out of the simple desire to see if this bond between them really is more profound and others it is just because he is selfish enough to give in to that need. It is simply that he is starting to find comfort in it. Part of him half expects Castiel to turn up one day to tell him to shut the hell up. After a couple of weeks Dean comes to conclude that it would be a great comfort if Castiel would turn up, if only to yell at him, so that he could be more certain that his friend is alive and relatively well.

It is not Castiel, however, who eventually responds to Dean's seemingly endless ramblings. It is Raphael.

"Dean Winchester."

Since his last vessel was rendered down to salt Raphael has obviously managed to locate another body to wear. This body is hardly one that Dean would find intimidating under normal circumstances. The man is pale, small and skinny with wiry limbs that hardly seem like they could take the weight of an archangel. Inhabited by Raphael, however, this small man with white hair and dark eyes is very intimidating, someone that Dean feels almost justified in being nervous of.

"Hey, Raph," Dean keeps his voice full of flippant false cheer, reaching for the knife that he has taken to keeping strapped to his wrist since he started to have regular contact with angels. Unfortunately, Castiel's nemesis is one step ahead of him.

"We can't have that," Raphael says as two of his minions take hold of the hunter's arms. "You should really learn to hold your tongue every now and then, boy. Your constant diatribe led us right to you."

"Well aren't I the lucky one."

"You have no idea," Raphael smirks, "and now you're going to help me get what I want." Dean pulls a face at that.

"Man, I don't think I want to hear about any of your sick fantasies." The response in deliberately off hand, though Dean feels anything other than secure at this precise moment. Deep down, however, the hunter knows what this is really about. This all comes back down to Castiel. Perhaps everything that has been building up over the year since the end of the apocalypse can be linked back to the war in Heaven.

The souls, he remembers Death saying, it all comes back down to whatever is happening with the souls. It is strange to think about it in this moment, when he is in such immediate danger, but it drifts through his mind even as he struggles against the solid wall of angel that holds him captive.

"Take him," Raphael orders, "let us see how deep this bond truly runs."

oOo

The war in Heaven is not going well for Castiel. It is exhausting in a way that even falling agonisingly slowly from grace was not. Angels are supposed to be tireless, unstoppable forces and immovable objects completely dedicated to the Will and the Word (capital letters absolutely necessary) of an absent and omnipotent Father.

Castiel is different, has always been different in his own way. Even though he has been restored, and even enhanced, the newly made archangel still feels as keenly as he did when he was in the final stages of his fall. He still feels grief, still knows anger and rage. He is far, now, from the perfect soldier that he once was and part of him mourns the loss of that black and white outlook. Part of him is saddened by the shades of grey that now dominate his thoughts. The majority of him, however, believes that all of his brethren should be allowed this.

Heaven is in chaos since the failed apocalypse and the loss of Michael. He knows he should have been quicker to attempt a take over, should have moved against Raphael immediately upon his return rather than waiting and watching. As the humans would say; hindsight is twenty-twenty.

Even aware of the danger that Raphael had posed to him, Castiel had hoped at first that he would be left alone. He had hoped that he would be able to talk to his brethren about the changes to their existence that they could find and embrace without a challenge from the others who have not seen things the way that he has. Such a hope was a foolish one, as so many of his have proved to be.

The bond that he has with Dean has not helped matters overly. Many of his brothers seem to believe that his deep connection to that brilliant soul has tainted and tarnished him. They refuse to join him, or even to hear his words, purely because they have come to believe that he should be banished to languish in the pit with Lucifer. They believe that he should exchange places with Michael.

There has been a comfort to it as well, however, hearing Dean's voice even if the hunter is doing little more than cussing him out for his lack of aid or presence. Castiel wants to help Dean, he really and truly does, but with his place in Heaven so very precarious he cannot afford to become too distracted. Dean is a distraction, though the angel has not yet managed to decide if it is of the best or worst kind, and recently the nature of the human's words have changed. Dean is no longer constantly angry and constantly demanding. There is gentleness and genuine concern, an offer of aid renewed and a whispered plea of reassurance that the angel has not been destroyed.

Castiel wishes he could personally answer every single one. He wishes that he could give in to his desire to put Dean's every need first, even if he does not understand why he wants to. Even those angels who believe Castiel's word feel that this deep connection with Dean will be the death of him. If he is honest with himself Castiel knows it will be. Even if God brought him back twice both of those deaths were caused by Castiel's desire to help Dean. He will not be so fortunate a third time.

Still, the few weeks where Dean manages to keep up a stream of random chatter is comforting, even if Castiel believes it is because Sam has not yet forgiven the hunter for forcing him to take his soul back. It is nice, however, to think that there is someone who would care and notice his loss if Raphael were ever to win.

The prayers from Dean stop suddenly and seemingly without reason one day. Castiel cannot shake the sense of foreboding that fills him at Dean's sudden silence.

-Cas, we need you- Sam's voice filters through the silent void of Dean's prayers late one night.

The angel is pressed on all sides, taken by surprise by a group of Raphael's followers. The archangel will be here soon, Castiel suspects, drawn by the call of those loyal to him. He has to end this before he can pay attention to Sam again. By the time that the vessels of his misguided brothers lie dead at his feet Castiel has come to realise that it is too late.

-Cas, please,- the voice is more desperate now. -Raphael has Dean.-

It is all clear in that moment. These angels, these brothers that he was forced to slaughter, were little more than a distraction while his rival went after something far more important to him. He has to find the hunter, has to save him, and cannot help but despair because this is most certainly a trap.

Ooops, evil cliffie. It's been a while since I had one of those.

Artemis