Dean hasn't been near the lake since Castiel disappeared into it. But after Bobby's death, he subconsciously found himself climbing into the Impala and arriving there. He and Sam haven't really spoken since they left the hospital and cremated Bobby. Dean left Sam in the motel back by the place, and had said he'd needed some space. That he'd be gone for a few days. Sam didn't argue.

The Impala rolls up to the bashed up old building where Dean had promised himself he wouldn't come back to. But here he was. Slamming the door, he tucks his hands deep into his jacket and stares up at it. The eerie silence which clings to it is heavy, like it's filled with a strange invisible screaming which is almost tapping through the quiet, but not quite piercing it. The silence thrums in his ears, pounding through to the inside of his skull. He takes his time sliding a gun he has grabbed from the trunk into the back of his jeans, and then walks to the chain link fence which is clearly warning him not to go further. He ignores the sign and kicks the gate open, following the outside of the building round to the back. The vast lake stretches out in front of him. A twang of pain rocks his chest like a dagger to the heart. The black water ripples gently. It all seems far too calm for the undeniable sadness it contains under its surface.

Dean kicks a rock along the bank and settles himself on the bench which overlooks the lake. A part of him is taken back to a dream he once had. A dream where he was sitting by a lake, fishing rod in hand. Enjoying the freedom and peace that dreamland contained. Cas had appeared in that dream. He had told him there was a problem. When Dean woke up, that was the night they found Jimmy Novak - Castiel's vessel - completely void of any trace of the previous angel resident. Apart from the trench coat. That damn piece of cloth wasn't Jimmy. Not to Dean. Yeah, maybe the dude bought it himself and wore it every day to work and back, but for Dean, the trench coat was...is...something special. Carefully, he untucks it from under his arm and places it in his lap, his fingers playing absentmindedly with the buttons and straps. His eyes narrow as he gazes out across the lake once more. This coat is all he has left of his friend. The only physical thing. Of course he has all of the memories, but he has been beginning to forget things. Small things. The exact way Cas' voice sounded. The way he walked. They shade of blue his eyes were. Dean tries desperately to hold onto details, but the lack of Castiel in his life makes it hard to keep a grasp on the angel he once knew.

He bites down hard on his lip, accidentally breaking the skin and tasting the metallic tinge of blood on his tongue. Will he forget things about Bobby too? Oh god, everything hurts so bad. Hurt ricochets through his body and he doubles over onto the coat, squeezing his eyes shut and gulping back the throbbing in his throat. Why is life so insistent on taking the people he loves away? Does he deserve it? After all that he's done for the goddamn planet? After all the lives he's saved, sometimes almost losing his own? Sometimes actually losing his own?

"It's not fair," he mutters, then rage boils up and explodes like an a-bomb in his chest. He stands and launches a rock into the lake. "IT'S NOT FAIR!" His knees tremble beneath him and they fold inwards. He drops to the floor, scraping up the shards of stone into his hands and feeling the jagged points dig into his palms. Bobby Singer is dead. The truth of it makes it hard to breathe, it makes Dean's chest tighten and pull and ache. It makes his breath come out in short gasps, and his head spin.

Why?

Dean can't count how many times he's asked that question. Why must everything always go to shit? Why must he be kneeling here beside the deathbed of his friend whilst mourning the loss of the man who deservedly claimed the title of his own second father. Who had, many times, deserved the title 'father' more than his real one ever had done.

Dean looks at the lake again, and blinks through the blur of tears.

"Everyone's leaving me, Cas," he says to the waters. His throat closes and it becomes difficult to speak. His voice was breaking in all the wrong places. "Sammy's all I have left. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't want him with me. But...I'm lonely, Cas. I mean, before, there was always someone else, y'know? Bobby, Dad, Ellen, Jo, you, hell, even Gabriel and Balthazar sometimes. I mean, we were all we had! We were a family. A dysfunctional, screw-loose family. But dammit, it was perfect for us. We always had someone to fall back on. Now what happens if the broken wall in Sammy's head gets too much? Who can I turn to? Who can help us through it? No one!" Dean begins laughing manically through the floods of tears pouring from his eyes. "No one can!" When his breathing hitches, his laughing turns to sobbing. "I thought I was strong, Cas. Turns out that what made me strong was the strength that the people I loved gave me. The faith they had in me. Way back when we first met, when you were that stick-up-the-ass angel, you talked to me about faith. I threw it back in your face. But you were right. We do need faith. Maybe not in God, or any higher being, but we need faith to put in people, and we need people to put their faith in us. It's what keeps us going. And if you have no faith in anyone, and no one has faith in you, that's a pretty sad and meaningless life to lead. What's the point? Why bother anymore? Sammy and I? We're alone now. For real. For good. The people we loved...it takes time to build those kinds of relationships. No one can fill the empty spaces that those people left behind. This is it, Cas. Sam and Dean. No voice on the other end of the cell ready to lend a hand. No more faces we'll recognise. It's just us and a world of strangers now."

Dean is almost choking. His throat feels like it's being ripped out. His face stings cruelly under the salty tears.

"I resent that."

The new voice makes him jump, and he turns his head to see Crowley sitting on the bench. "I'd like to think I'm not a stranger."

Dean feels the anger ignite in him again.

"Fuck you, asshole," he spits. Crowley raises his hands in defence.

"Watch your tone," he drawls sarcastically, and then he gazes out across the lake too. "I heard what you said, Dean."

"Ever heard of a thing called privacy?"

Crowley raises and eyebrow. "I wouldn't call the edge of a lake exactly private, but suit yourself." A period of silence passes. Dean turns back to look at the water. "...I'm sorry about Bobby."

Dean snorts. "When are you ever sorry?"

"I can be sorry if I want to! Whilst the leviathan walk the earth, it seems you and are...dare I say it, 'accomplices.' Chums, even. Look, Dean. I've been waiting for you to come back here."

Dean doesn't take his eyes from the lake.

"And why is that?" he replies without the slightest bit of interest.

"Because you won't be alone much longer...I think."

"What are you talking about?" Why won't Crowley just freaking leave? he thinks.

"I think I can bring Castiel back."

A small whine escapes Dean's lips. His entire body tenses.

"Excuse me?" he manages.

"I think I can bring Castiel back."

One moment Dean is kneeling facing the lake. The next his hands are clasped around Crowley's collar, pulling their faces close.

"I swear to god, if you are lying to me, I will devote my entire life to destroying you. If you are lying to me, I will end you." Crowley chuckles right in Dean's face, and eases him away.

"Woah there, Tiger. Look, I'm not lying to you. Dean, after you and your brother and Bobby left this place, I came back to check the damage. When I got down to the lake there was this...shimmering speck just hovering over the shore down there." Dean follows Crowley's finger to a bush of reeds at the water's edge. "It was barely anything. It wasn't a soul. It was Grace. A shard of an angel's Grace. I took it and went back to Hell with it. I messed around with it, introduced it to bits of dead human soul which - I dunno if you've seen dead human soul - but that stuff it just like a vacuum. Nothing left of the human that once was in it. But the Grace latched onto it and started giving it this weird glow. I've never seen dead human soul regenerated before. Eventually the Grace just dwindled into the soul. All that's left is...soul. I don't know what happened to the Grace. Anyway. God knows how long I worked on it but the point is, Dean, is that inside this," Crowley snaps his fingers and is suddenly holding a large, black suitcase with an almost blinding light spilling from the seams, "is what I think could be your pal Cas."

Dean stares at Crowley, and then the case. Then back at Crowley. His heart is thudding so loud he can hear his pulse in his ears.

"But why would you do that for Cas," he breathes. Crowley admires the case as he talks.

"Because it gets boring in Hell."

"Sure, that's the reason. Because deep down you're such a sweetheart." Dean rolls his eyes and glares hard at him.

"Okay! Okay! So I took the Grace to see if I could use it as a weapon, big deal! Turns out I can't. So I thought, what the Hell? If I can bring Cas back maybe he can destroy the leviathan? And then when the bloody Grace disappeared into the soul I'd forged I wanted to torture so many goddamn other souls you have no idea. I'm sure my anger turned the heat up in Hell that day. But then I thought, "those Winchesters would be even more likely to defeat those monsters if they have another pair of hands. I may as well finish this up"..."

"So you...you saved Cas?"

"I think so. I came here to test it out."

"On what, exactly? His vessel is at the bottom of a lake and probably half-eaten by fish." Dean cringes at the thought.

"Ah, see. I do think things through." Crowley grins widely and taps the side of his head. "After the short time of realising I couldn't use the Grace as a weapon, I knew I had to get the vessel back. He can't just go in anyone, can he? I mean, that vessel was pretty. Nice jawline. Anyway, I'd hate to see him in a fat lard or a red neck skinny ginger something or other. No. Jimmy Novak is the one for Cas. So I came back here and fished him out. Preserved him in Hell with me. See? The things I do for you people." Crowley clicks his fingers and there is a soft thump behind Dean. He spins and almost sobs again when he sees the body of Jimmy Novak - clean, dry and peaceful - by the lake's edge. He runs to the body and drops to his knees again. For Dean, this is Castiel. Not Jimmy. All he sees is Castiel. Carefully, he lifts the top half of the cold corpse into his arms.

"Gimme the case," he demands at Crowley, not looking away from Cas' face.

"Manners don't hurt anyone," comes the reply.

"GIVE ME THE DAMN CASE!"

"Rudeness," Crowley tuts, but there is a thud as Crowley puts it beside him. He goes to do something with it, then realises he has no idea what he has to do. His cheeks tinge pink.

"...Uh..." he starts sheepishly. He hears Crowley sigh deeply, and suddenly he is kneeling on the other side of Cas' body, holding out his hand. Dean passes back the case, and Crowley runs a hand across the leather, towards the locks at the top. Dean's senses all zone in on that case. All he hears is the click as Crowley opens it. All he sees is the shining light that Crowley pulls from it. All he can feel is the pulse of life which it gives off. Crowley and Dean then exchange a glance. Dean nods.

Crowley's hands which hold the light smack into Cas' chest. The body jerks upwards into the impact, and begins to writhe as the soul is pushed in further. Dean knows there's a huge chance that, with the Grace disappearing, this may not be Cas at all. He holds his breath as Crowley presses down as far as he can go, and then he sits back and keeps his eyes locked on the thrashing body. Dean pins it down as best he can, until it goes still.

Silence.

A gasp for air.

Wide, crystal blue eyes.

So they were that shade.

Another gasp.

Heavy breathing.

Slower breathing.

Staring eyes.

Blinking eyes.

Aware eyes.

"...Cas? Castiel?"

Silence.

Eyes meet.

A deep, rasping voice.

"...Dean?"

"Cas?"

"What happened...? Yes, of course it's me...wait the leviathan they OOOMPH-"

He is cut off as Dean locks his arms like a vice around the person he has missed for so long. His friend is alive. He's not alone anymore. Castiel is here. Real. In his arms. Not dead. No. Not dead. Very much alive.

"Im sorry Dean. I'm sorry for opening Purgatory and the leviathans and-"

"SHUT OF YOU STUPID SONOFABITCH!" Dean yells and hugs him tighter. Then he pulls him back to look him in the eyes. "I don't care what you did. I don't care at all. You're forgiven. You kept those leviathans back as long as you could. You redeemed yourself pretty much at the end of it all. But even so, I don't care. All I care about is that you're alive. Fuck man, you're alive!" Dean hugs him again. He can't believe it.

Cas is ALIVE.

Castiel hasn't hugged him back yet. But all of a sudden Dean feels his arms close around him.

"But how?" Cas asks softly. Dean breaks the hug and notices Crowley has disappeared from the other side of Cas. He turns to see Crowley back by the bench.

"I was scared you were going to hug me too. I'm not a hugger, sadly."

"Crowley?" Cas says, astounded. "Crowley brought me back?"

"As much as I could. But if you haven't noticed, you're not in the holy club anymore." Dean and Cas look at one another. Then Cas looks behind him.

"Huh. I thought I felt different. My wings...they're gone. I'm...human. But how...what...?"

With a roll of his eyes, and a complaint about how he just went through this, Crowley explains to Cas about what he had done. Though Cas is mad at first about hearing he had planned to use his Grace as a weapon, he does thank Crowley wholeheartedly for bringing him back, no matter what the initial motive.

"I guess I have to say I owe you my life, Crowley."

"Damn right you do, sunshine. But I can't be around all this crying anymore. Can't be dealing with happy crying. Dean's sad crying I can deal with. But the happy tears? Please. Just...help the Winchester's. Do what I brought you back for. Kick those leviathans in the rear." And with that, Crowley is gone.

Dean faces Cas again. He pulls him to his feet.

"You don't know how good it is to see you, man," he says, voice cracking mid-sentence. Cas nods and smiles. Then Dean remembers. "Hey! One sec..." He walks to the bench, and picks up the tan trenchcoat. He runs his hand across it before spinning, and walking slowly back to Cas.

"...Here. This...belongs to you." He hands it over and Cas slips it on over his shirt.

"Why are you staring so much?" Cas asks warily, awkwardly tugging at the sleeves of his coat. Dean blinks, and then looks him in the eye.

"Sorry just...welcome back, Cas. That trenchcoat wasn't meant for anyone else."

Cas smiles again. "Uh, so we should get to Sam. I can't wait to see his face when he sees you."

"I can. I really messed up everything and-"

"Hey! What did I say? You're forgiven. Now get to the car. Go!" He ushers Cas along and they climb into the Impala.

"You know, I'm kinda glad you won't be popping up randomly and freaking me out like before. How do you feel as a human anyway?"

Cas looks contemplatively out of the front window. His eyebrows lower. It looks as though much deep thought is racking his brain.

"...Hungry."

A moment of silence passes before Dean bursts out laughing against the wheel, and Cas chuckles along with him. Shaking his head and giggling, Dean turns on the engine.

"I'm sure we can find a burger joint on the way."

Cas smacks his lips. "Sounds good."

"Sure does, Cas," Dean replies.

The Impala roars as it speeds away from the lake. Away from sadness and death and the door to Purgatory. Yes, Bobby is dead. And Dean will have to face that every day. So will Sam. But with Cas by their side again, they can at least bring Bobby justice by putting an end to those sons of bitches.

Team Free Will, he'd once named them.

Dean smirks. His hands clench the wheel and he and Cas exchange a glance. When he faces the road again, he stares into the horizon.

"Bring it," he whispers.

I'd really love it if you could tell me what you thought about this. I'm SO proud of it. :')