A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read my story! This is my first piece of writing in far too long, and I am trying to get back into it as I used to write everyday. Reviews are welcomed, and criticism will be taken for improvement. Sorry that my writing is so rusty, but please bear with me and requests for stories are much appreciated! Thank you!

"Dean. Wake up. Dean!" The slumbering man grumbled, not wanting to even turn over. Head still in his pillow, he only sat up upon hearing the urgency in the last word. Rubbing his sleep bleared eyes into focus, Dean looked to the figure at the foot of the grubby motel bed and felt his heart quicken as his consciousness come sharper into focus once recognition set in.

"Cas?" Though the angel would generally pop in without warning, late night visits were generally warranted with some sort of Earth shattering, hell was crawling out (again) news. "What is it? What baddie do we have the damn pleasure of fighting now?"

Castiel's face was set in his usual solemn gaze, waiting for Dean to fully come to so that the gravity of the situation would not be lost on tired ears. Taking an inward breath, he glanced down to his feet before meeting the bright emerald eyes that not even the shadows could hide. "It's Heaven. The angels that give us commands are looking to eradicate all traces of corruption in their ranks. Because of my… doubts, I am a prime target. They are hunting me Dean."

Tilting his head slightly as Cas spoke, Dean felt his pupils dilate before he squinted them in a scowl to mask his concern. The angel's deep voice could not hide the hint of utter fear that bled into his words. Deciding it better to go with his sarcastic attitude than the sympathetic nature of his still asleep brother (who definitely lived up to his name with the moose sized snores coming out of his slightly drooling mug), he simply gave his signature gruff-style sass. "So a bunch of halos are up there trying to tell you that you can't doubt the orders that make about an ass hairs amount of sense. What, are they going to take you to holy boot camp to get your mindless soldier badge?"

Even though he knew this was how Dean typically reacted, there was no doubt that he did care. But with this, Castiel did not have the patience to find out what a camp of boots had to do with any of it. "I'm not sure what you mean by this 'badge', but that is not of concern." Taking a few steps past the bed, he let out a long sigh before taking a seat at the edge of the mattress. Looking to Dean with his crystal blue eyes, a blind man could see the despair that was etched into the depths. Immediately dropping his façade as his heart clenched in concern, Dean moved to sit next to the angel. His eyes meeting the other man's he let his voice fill with the unease he truly felt.

"Cas, just tell me exactly what the hell this all means." Not meeting the probing look for a few beats, he turned his gaze to Dean and allowed time to slow first to a crawl before stopping it all together. He took in the sharp curve of Dean's jaw, the soft lines of his mouth (so different when they weren't pressed in a hard line for battle), the gentle traces of stubble along his chin, and closing his eyes, he allowed time to crawl once more to allow him the sound of the strong heartbeat that seemed to reverberate through his core. With time nearly back to its regular tempo, he looked finally into the brilliant green eyes, tinged with just a bit of gold but ever reflecting the hunter green that the man favored. All of this in the span of two heartbeats for Dean, but lasting for a few all to brief minutes to the angel as he memorized him, taking in every detail he would miss, each and every trait that would make his heart pang in grief, even when he no longer knew why. Hooding the pain in his eyes, he met the questioning gaze as time resumed. Mustering his strength, he allowed himself a moment more to be lost in the absinthe depths before his voice betrayed him.

"It means that I am out of places to hide." As if on cue, an ethereal shrill emanated in the small room accompanied by the sweeping spotlight of an archangel. "Cas, we ca-"his voice hitched to a shocked end as his face was now captured in the battle roughened hands of the angel. Dean saw the turmoil raging in the normally stoic features, the agony in the celestial blue eyes, and the determined line of his mouth. Opening his own to give what little assurance that he could, to tell him that they would find a way to fix this, just as they always did, but found his now crushed against Castiel's. Eyes widening in shock for a moment as his heart raced in confusion, he almost pulled away. Something about this though, simply felt right. He could not explain it, but the fervor and utter desperation in the lips against his banished any thought from his mind, and his body spoke for him, returning the kiss with the hunger of a starved man. It wasn't until he tasted salt that he let his eyes slide open, the kiss now over but their lips still lingering on the others. His hand went to the angel's cheek to wipe away the single tear that had escaped, and found Cas leaning into the touch with his eyes still closed as though they were holding back more than the rogue drop.

"Dean…" The huskiness of his voice was meant to hide the sorrow underneath, but came out rough as the unshed tears raged for the surface. The shrill returned, louder, demanding, nearly shattering the glass with its ferocity. Glancing back with fear at the light, Castiel turned to Dean once more and placed two fingers on his forehead, giving a longing smile as his voice shook. "Please, just remember me." With a final blast of blinding light, the windows blasted inward and a cacophony of shattering and eerie screams enveloped Castiel.

Dean woke with a jolt. His shirt covered in sweat and his sheets a tangled mess around him. Gasping, he grabbed the gun under his pillow and surveyed the room. Sam was sound asleep, the windows were still intact, and there was no trace of Cas. Flopping back down on the bed, Dean covered his face with the crook of his elbow and allowed to racing heart to slow. His fingers on their own accord traced his lips, still tingling from the dream. His eyes shooting open, he recalled the vividness of it all, the feeling of electricity through his very being the moment he was kissed. And… The look of horror on Cas' face, even as he tried to smile bravely back at Dean just before he vanished. He needed to know. His mind was reeling, and he needed to know something, anything dammit! Not wanting to wake Sam, he went outside, leaning against the Impala and taking a deep breath of the crisp air.

"Cas! If you can hear me zap down here!" Trepidation flooded his voice, so he cleared his throat and tried again, his normal attitude though still cracked on his words. "Come on man, get your feathery ass down here!" After waiting for a few minutes, he began pacing behind his Baby, and attempted to let rational thought come into his mind. What if it was just a stupid dream? He could be getting himself all worked up on some silly school-girl like crap. Besides, he wasn't into dudes. Right? Right. Yet… Why would a dream feel that real? The only times his "dreams" would feel like that is if Cas showed up in them to talk. Damn. He only did that when it wasn't safe to speak in person. Some holy high roller must really be after him then. His mind flashed with the memory of the blinding light that ripped Cas out of the room, the deep scream that followed and still rang in his ears as he woke. Leaning across the hood of the Impala, he folded his hands and pressed his thumbs along the bridge of his nose. Taking a deep breath, he looked to the sky trying to see past the curtain of clouds that shrouded the stars from his view, searching for the one star that he always prayed to when he called his guardian. "Please Cas… If you can hear me, just let me know you're ok. You don't even need to poof down here, just make the lights flicker or some shit. Please?" He waited in silence, eyes never straying from his lone star, when he heard a street light "POP!" in an explosive light, followed by the protective hood that flew across the lot violently. Letting out the breath he did not realize he was holding, he grimaced as the knot in his stomach only clenched tighter. "I know I said, 'or some shit', but that's not what I meant." His voice was barely a whisper, and in the back of his mind he could feel the dread of his dream take hold.

"Dean. DEAN! For God's sake man, wake up!"

Springing upright he still heard the echo of another voice lingering in his mind as he surveyed his surroundings, seeing nothing but another crummy hotel and his brother he glared at the latter with a deep scowl. "What Sammy? Can't a man sleep?" Giving another groan, he turned back and flopped onto the bed, his face burying in the pillow. "Sleep yes, but Dean you were yelling again." Dean didn't even need to look up to know his brother was giving him that exasperated puppy-dog face that he could not stand at times like this. Even though the rawness off his throat gave truth to what Sam said, he didn't need to know the physical pain to feel the torture in his mind. It had been nearly a month since he last "saw" Cas. Every night since then, more dreams flooded his unwaking hours. Each night was worse than the one before it. "DEAN!" Snapping out of his trance, he finally looked at his brother. Deciding there was no point in trying to go back to the hell of sleep again he reached for the bottle of Jim next to the bed and took a swig before giving Sam his attention. Shaking his head, Sam turned a chair around, sitting in it backwards as he clasped his large hands together. "If you keep on like this without talking about it, you know it's just going to get worse. I'm your brother. Talk to me."

Taking another large swig, Dean's scowl darkened and he looked to his hands before meeting his brother's gaze. "Sam, what happens in my sleep is my problem. I do not need you trying to psycholosize me or some bullshit. If it's something you need to know I'll tell you. Until then, SHUT YOUR CAKE HOLE!" Sam recoiled at the unexpected outburst, then shook his head as he heard the hotel door slam behind Dean. When would his brother admit that Cas being gone was getting to him. He had told him about the dream he wasn't sure was real (though he knew there was a part Dean wasn't telling him). Even more worrying was the fact that no one had any idea where Castiel was or what was happening to him.

Don't even try 'cause
You can't ignore her

She's my cherry pie
Cool drink of water
Such a sweet surprise
Tastes so good
Make a grown man cry
Sweet cherry pie oh yeah…

The Impala was flying down the road, not bothering to worry about a speed limit as the radio cranked out the music as loud as it could before the static made it a jumbled mess. Dean cranked the voume up one more notch, nearly blowing out the speakers, but those he could fix. The screams, the gut wrenching sobs, the desperate pleas, all of it still rang through his head. It seemed as though he couldn't even escape it when he was awake anymore. Without a thought, he slammed the wheel to the right, tires screeching in protest, almost mimicking the shrieks in his mind, and shuddered to a violent halt when he killed the ignition and yanked out the keys. Having found a small place on the side of the road, just through a few trees to keep the car from direct sight, he let his head drop back onto the headrest, a sob nearly escaping his throat. He just needed space, space without Sam breathing down his neck to find the cause of his troubles. He couldn't tell Sam… How could he when his lips trembled at the mere thought, his mouth unable to form the words.

He remembered the first nightmare, and how hard it had been to witness. Thinking nothing could make his heart clench anymore, the next night came. Each night he was forced to watch Cas get tortured. Those damned angels were creative, each night a new and more brutal torture ensued. At the end of each session, they would just leave him there. Hanging from the walls, bloody, bruised, and broken, his head hanging, all of his strength focused on just staying awake. Just before Dean woke up, it felt as though Cas would look straight at him, a weak smile tugging at his cracked lips. 'I haven't forgotten yet.' Seeming as if they heard him, it was at that point that an angel would step through the door, his hands glowing a menacing white tinged with amber, a noise akin to searing meat emitting from the luminance, even as it hovered in the air. The bastard would snicker, and lean over the broken angel, his body quaking with the effort of simply trying to stand upright, just before he slammed his hands over Cas' temples. He would wake with the ear splitting wail of despair still in his pounding head each morning. No matter how the torment would begin or progress, it ended always with the light.

Tears were streaming down Dean's face, his closed eyes unable to contain the misery that he held in check in front of Sam. He didn't need to know what Cas was going through, he saw it. He felt the pain the angel went through as though it were his own. His mind remembering all too well the treatment he received in hell, supplementing his body with the physical remembrance. "Cas…" His words rough and tear ridden, he looked to the sky, imagining it past the car roof, imagining the place of his lone star in the sky. "Please… How do I find you?"

(The next chapter will be posted as soon as I am finished writing. It shouldn't be too long, but endings are the bane of story telling -_-)