Author's Note: Originally, I intended to wait until season 7 had aired and write a sequel to this story. I never dreamed that what happened would happen, and I don't think it's likely that anything will happen to encourage me to write a continuation that isn't pure fluff. However, I feel that with events playing out the way they did, 7.01 and 7.02 fall in line with what I have written. Oh, so spoilers for 7.01 and 7.02, and this is the end of my story, but hopefully not the end of Castiel's journey.

Epilogue: Death Is Not The End

When Cas appeared before Dean, interrupting the ritual, he gave Dean a look unlike any they'd ever shared before. There was nothing of the Cas Dean knew in those eyes, eyes absent of love or trust, eyes with pupils blown with something dark and terrible. Dean couldn't do anything but gape as Cas serenely regarded him, brimming with… he looks like a cat full of canary, Dean thought nervously.

Raphael exploded.

Cas began to talk to Dean, explaining himself again, calmly, as if he assumed Dean now understood his actions and took his side, as if the events that had just occurred were the most natural in the world.

Dean tried to use his inside voice, soothing and respectful, tried to reason with this thing in Cas's body.

The new God looked so pleased with himself. Dean could feel his heart clamoring inside his ribs as he tried to reach his Cas, praying to something higher than himself that he could just reach the person he loved inside the holy shell.

"I have no family," Cas said coldly, and out of seemingly nowhere, the tip of the angel blade manifested in the center of his chest.

It took Dean a second to comprehend that Sam had stabbed Cas, a few seconds that seemed like hours for Dean to understand that Sam was up and moving under his own power and that Cas was dead, that Sam had killed him. Unmeasurable joy and horrific grief fought in his head for a moment, joy that Sam was okay, and sadness that Cas was dead, before realizing that no, Cas wasn't dead, Cas wasn't an angel anymore, this time, Cas really was fucking God.

Bobby was the first to bow, before Cas stopped them.

Dean wanted it to not be true, wanted the Castiel he knew to still be in there, but with each word that fell from his lips, it was clearer and clearer that this thing wasn't Cas, it was like Sam had been without his soul. Castiel's grace, or whatever it was that made him feel, made him love Dean, was gone, buried under the souls of millions of evil things.

Dean still begged, but it did nothing and God-Cas vanished. Sam collapsed and Dean and Bobby had nothing else to do but gather up the hulking sack of Sam's limp body and fall back to the home base.

Dean fixed the Impala.

What the fuck else can I do? he thought helplessly, Something about changing what I can, huh.

Dean started to truly give up, like when he'd been ready to say yes to Michael, like when John had died. Cas was dead, just like John, and Mary, and Ellen, and Jo and the countless others that had died because of Dean. He'd thought he was dead inside long before this, but now he realized that it could always get worse.

The only reasons I'm not putting a bullet into my brain, he thought, is Sam and Bobby would be so fucking pissed at me, they'd bring me back just to tear me a new one.

So, he fixed the Impala, and he drank until every feeling he had was buried under layers of alcoholic numbness. The only weakness he allowed himself was that the radio played only world news, reports pouring in of Cas's 'miracles' instead of classic rock. Sometimes, a clip would catch his attention; make something that almost resembled a spark of hope flare in him that part of Cas was in there, eradicating hate and evil in the world.

Then some other part of him- either the realist or the pessimist, depending on how drunk he was- reminded him that sooner or later, the other men's dress shoe would drop.

Considering what his life had come to, Dean found himself lost inside mending the Impala. There was an order to cars, a myriad of little mechanical wonders working to make a giant metal frame function, do beautiful things. Dean was rebuilding his home, Sammy's home. Fixing it reminded him that he had control of some things, control of himself and his actions, control of the nuts and gears that made himself and the Impala whole.

In another life, I'da been a great mechanic, he dreamed for a second, now and then, almost feeling okay, but inevitably, the thought of the apple pie life brought back a flood of sentimental memories of pillow talk with Cas and Lisa, and Dean would throw down his wrench and go into the house for more whiskey.

Sam and Bobby wouldn't let it go, though, and finally, the answer came to Dean, oddly enough, from those pillow talks with Cas.

Death. Dean really liked the guy, and he kinda thought the feeling might be mutual. He hoped Death wouldn't take the whole binding ritual thing too personally.

The conversation with Death could have been going worse, and then Dean felt the odd depressurization that heralded the soft deep, "Amazing."

He turned and there was Cas, beautiful face covered in red hives, eyes still full of terrifyingly twisted serenity.

Death had some interesting observations of his own, and Dean should have been terrified by words like "mutated" and "explode" and "chomp the entire Petri dish", but all he felt was that spark again of insane hope, because the way Death talked, Cas was still in there, somewhere, under the evil.

Once again, the spark of hope was instantly drowned by the pissing match between Cas and Death.

Dean met Sam's eyes and reminded himself, Whether or not the Cas I love is still kicking int here, this thing in front of me brain-raped Sammy and has to be put the fuck down.

"Just kill him, now!" he snapped and Cas fixed him with another horrible look, something that was almost shocked betrayal flickering under the plastic, inflamed features.

Suddenly, before Dean could register, Death was free, Castiel was gone, and the room filled with the smell of pickle chips. Death kept speaking, but the words didn't matter. Dean had officially given up.

Cas finally understood how Jimmy Novak had felt. The thing in his skin had his voice, his convictions, even his self righteousness, but it wasn't the essence of Cas's Grace running the show. Cas caught glimpses in between the bouts of blindingly excruciating agony, of dead bodies, and of Dean's grief.

He woke with a gasp, the feel of coagulating blood tightening his cheeks. He rose shakily, flinching from the sight of bloody corpses amid campaign posters surrounding him.

Why am I me? he thought wildly, What have I done?

"No…" he muttered, "No…" and horrible hissing whispers filled his ears. He staggered away, unaware of the path he took.

Suddenly, over the sibilant voices, another voice cut through, stong and clear, and entirely unexpected.

"Hey, Castiel. Um, maybe this is pointless… Look, I dunno if any part of you even cares, but, um, I still think you're one of us, deep down… and way, way, way off the reservation, but… we still have til dawn to stop this. Let us help, please."

Sam. The abomination, the hero, the least likely person to absolve Cas of his sins. Cas was yet again amazed by the incredible capacity of humans to love and forgive. He used his last ounce of Grace to go to him.

They say admitting you need help is the hardest part.

They're wrong.

Dean shut off the hentai, pushed Sam the glass of alcohol, and almost missed the clap of wings.

"Sam, I heard your call. I need help." Cas addressed Sam, but he looked at Dean, and the eyes were Cas's again, holding all the familiar love and trust and now, infinite sadness.

Dean had nothing to say to him. Sam helped Cas to the car and into the lab, and it wasn't until he left to get the blood that Cas tried to speak to Dean.

Dean was still pissed, so fucking pissed, and he didn't want to hear empty words of regret. Sam was taking too long. Dean felt fear gnawing in his gut and went to find him.

Cas looked up at Bobby from his place on the floor.

"I should have listened to you."

"Well, duh, ya fuckin' idjit. You make it though this, and then you make amends. Ain't a man alive who ain't done shit he's 'shamed of. Dean loves ya, Sam believes in ya, what more do ya want?" Bobby glared.

"I don't believe he loves me anymore. I don't deserve-"

"It ain't about what ya deserve. Stop beatin' yerself raw, get through this, then deal."

"I don't think I'll make it." Cas closed his eyes.

"Then Dean'll deal in his own time. He's a grown man, he's lived through worse." Bobby's eyes softened for a moment, looking at the slumped form below him, "At least you asked for help. That's what counts."

For all his butthurt feelings, Dean couldn't take his eyes off the trench-coated shoulders as the portal opened.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas growled painfully, as the symbols began to glow, and Dean wanted so badly to go to him, tell him he understood, even if he didn't agree, that he loved him no matter what.

He flinched at the light pouring from Cas, and then forced his gaze back up, refusing to let Cas die alone.

The portal finally closed, and Cas's body collapsed to the floor. They rolled his cold and lifeless body over, and Dean gulped back tears.

He couldn't give up hope, not now, not when things were as bad as they could get. Seconds stretched on and on, and just as the hope was dying again, and Dean rasped out, "Damn it. Cas, you child. Why didn't you listen to me?" Cas began to glow and heal, sucking in a ragged breath.

Dean felt absolutely certain in the moment that everything would be okay. Cas was utterly and completely himself, all awkward understatements and repentance, and Dean couldn't keep the love and relief off his face. He wanted to pull Cas to him, bury his face in the trench coat, and never let go. Cas was trying to tell him earnestly that he would redeem himself, and Dean thought, Okay, gotta find Sammy, and it's all over, it's finally all gonna be okay.

"You need to run, now!" Cas doubled over, yelling suddenly, "I can't hold them back!"

Dean turned away for only a moment, just one moment, and in that moment, the man he loved died a jerking, mangled death, too fast for Dean to even react, because in the split second it took to return his eyes to Cas, the Leviathans filled the vessel and Cas was fucking gone.

The creature in his place was a terrible mockery, the Joker in a bloody trench coat, grinning manically as he tossed them across the room like toys.

"Now, this is going to be so much fun," it said and let a chilling laugh echo through the room.

Naturally, Dean responded to the ancient, unspeakable evil by shamelessly agitating it as it deteriorated before their eyes. The Leviathans staggered from the room, and Dean and Bobby went to find Sam.

Dean reaches the shore just as Cas's body sinks under the water. Only the knowledge that it isn't really Cas keeps Dean from flinging himself in after it. Blackness explodes out from the whirlpool where the Leviathan went under.

Dean looks down, and there's the coat, sodden and stained, somehow it's already made its way to shore.

He lifts it from the water as reverently as a flag from a coffin, and folds it carefully.

"Dumb son of a bitch," he snaps, but his fingers clutch the coat a moment too long for it to be a bitter dismissal.

Later, after the coat is dry, Dean wraps it around the Colt, and tucks it into the trunk of the Impala, feeling the weight of his ring in the pocket. If he presses his face into it for a moment to absorb the tears before he puts it away, that's no one's business but his own.

Fuck, he thinks, I love you. I'll always love you, you dumb son of a bitch.

Credits:

Obviously, many lines of dialogue used for establishing the timeline are the property of Mr. Eric Kripke, Sera Gamble and Bed Edlund and all the other amazing people who allow us to write graphic sex scenes involving their brilliant creation. I have no affiliation with the Supernatural team, I'm just a lowly butthurt fangirl that needed first to write romantic porn, and then to create reason for the events of seasons 6 and 7.

Referenced Song List (Which Can Also Be Used as a SUPERnatural Playlist)

Tito and the Tarantulas - The Strange Face of Love

Led Zeppelin - Stairway to Heaven

Kansas - Carry On My Wayward Son

Journey - Ask the Lonely

AC/DC - You Shook Me All Night

Bon Jovi - You Give Love a Bad Name

Lynyrd Skynyrd - Free Bird

Dio - Rainbow in the Dark

Boston - More Than a Feeling

Meatloaf - I Would Do Anything For Love

The Commodores - Slippery When It's Wet

BTO – You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet

Alan Parsons Project – Don't Answer Me

Led Zeppelin - Nobody's Fault but Mine

Led Zeppelin - Over the Hills and Far Away

Led Zeppelin - Black Dog

Led Zeppelin – Dazed and Confused

AC/DC - Back In Black

The Who - Baba O'Riley

Scorpions - No One Like You

Bob Dylan - Death Is Not The End

Literature Referenced

The Odyssey – Homer

Cat's Cradle - Kurt Vonnegut

The Book of Enoch - Enoch

De Coelesti Hierarchia - St. Denis the Areopagite

The Lord's Prayer and Corinthians 13:1 – God

Media Referenced

The Magnificent Seven

Star Trek the Motion Picture

Blazing Saddles

Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid

Author's Note: I'd do so much differently, if I could do it over, like not write it at all, because the end of it was emotionally draining as shit. I can't imagine how the actors felt, if I was this fucked up over writing about their brilliant performances. The people who've left feedback or reposted this on tumblr make it all worth the pain, though, because I know I'm not the only fangirl searching for meaning and reason in the pain of what's unfolding now. Thanks to everyone and anyone who'd read this or made it possible.