If Crowley had had a heart, the sight of Dean Winchester, lying cold and still on the bed, would have broken it. This was never what he wanted for the boy, stupid and hard headed as he was. But, there may be a solution. He pulled out the First Blade and reached out to put it in the eldest Winchester's lifeless hand...

"Don't you touch him," came a low growl from the doorway. Crowley turned to see Castiel standing there, his eyes fixed on Dean's body. The angel's eyes were rimmed in red, as though he had been crying. Crowley stepped back as Castiel walked forward and sat next to the corpse of Dean Winchester. "He's really gone..."

"'Fraid so," Crowley said softly.

But Castiel did not seem to hear him. Instead, he ran his fingers over Dean's cold forehead and let out a quiet sob. A few tears had begun to make their way down the angel's cheeks and he spoke, "Dean... I'm so sorry I wasn't here earlier. What's the point of having grace if I can't even use it to help the people I care about most? Your life was far too short and... filled with more sorrow than any one man should have to bear.

"But I am glad to have known you. You were... are... a light in this horrible place. A righteous man, despite the mistakes you made. I, on the other hand, have lived far too long and... I wish that I hadn't wasted it on doing all the wrong things. Never doing anything for myself. But saving you, meeting you, was the best thing I ever did. You taught me the true meaning of living and what it meant to live for myself. And now, I have to say... too late, as always, that you are the love of this terribly long life of mine," Castiel's voice broke and he brushed his fingers over the bow of Dean's lips. "I would have done anything for you since that is what is best for me. You are what's best for me."

Crowley felt as though he should leave, but he found the whole thing poetic. Even if only in a morbidly depressing way. The First Blade hung, forgotten, in his limp grasp.

Castiel sniffed, "I love you, Dean Winchester. For eternity." He bent down, pressing a chaste kiss to the corpse's lips. A few tears slipped from the angel's face onto Dean's. Castiel turned to Crowley, "Leave."

He didn't need to be told twice. He was making his way to the door when he heard the angel's gasp. Turning back, he saw Dean stirring. His eyes fluttered open, meeting the angel's, and a weak smile crossed his face.

"Cas?"