I've had this idea swimming around in my head for a while now, and have only just had the chance to put it down in words. Not DeanXCas in the typical sense, or even Deanxfem!Cas in the typical sense, but hopefully you'll still enjoy it.

Disclaimer - I don't own Supernatural or anything related!

Please leave a review!

C

You Kept It

Eden Anderson lived in Madison, Wisconsin. She was 23; she lived in a small house on a street in a nice neighbourhood with two cats – Paul and John. She taught at the elementary school two blocks away; she walked there every morning and walked home every night.

And she was a Christian. Devout, in fact.

It was quite obvious when you took a look around her house – the bible on her coffee table; the statue of the Virgin Mary on her bedside; and if you ventured into any room of the house you would find a crucifix hanging on the wall.

Eden cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder as she poured the freshly cooked tomato sauce over her pasta. 'Love you too, Daddy.' She replied into the phone, dotingly. 'I'll see you Sunday morning.'

She hung up the phone with a kiss, grabbed her dinner and a glass of apple juice and settled herself on the couch to relax for the night.

Only a few minutes had passed before she noticed it – a slight ringing in her ears. With a furrowed brow she placed her cutlery on the table, and proceeded to prod and rub her ear, trying to get rid of the high-pitched noise that was suddenly making her head ache.

After a few seconds it was gone she thought, and slightly confused she relaxed back into her seat on the couch, her long dark hair that she always braided neatly hanging over her shoulder. The strange ringing forgotten from her mind already, she reached to the table to grasp her glass of juice.

The sudden crackle of the television made her jump, and the glass slipped from her hand, smashing onto the floor. Eden lifted her head to find her television program had been replace with static.

'What..?'

She bent down hurriedly to pick up the broken glass on her floorboards, when gradually the ringing began to return. It was getting louder she noticed; but as she stood to put the broken glass away safely, she was showered by more as the light bulb above her head exploded.

Eden jumped, screaming as she dashed from her lounge room towards her front door, he hands clamped over her ears as the ringing seemed to be getting louder and louder.

The front door was in her sights when she felt it – the rapid rumbling beneath her feet. But it wasn't just the floors, the entire house seemed to be shaking as though an…

'An earthquake?' she mused to herself. Of course, that explained everything – the television, the light bulb, the shaking…

All except for the ringing, which amplified abruptly; her head felt as though it were about to burst. The other lights in the house began to flicker sporadically, some of them exploding as well; the television had returned to normal programming, but was changing channels by itself.

Desperate to get out of the house, Eden leapt for the doorknob – but was blown backwards when every window in the house imploded with a great crash.

She fell to the ground, her hands still clamped over her ears, the ground still rumbling beneath her. 'What's happening?' she whimpered to herself, tears falling down her cheeks. The pain in her head was unbearable.

Eden looked up to the crucifix above the door, endeavouring to send a prayer on it when a severe rumble caused it to plummet to the ground.

And then it stopped. Not the quaking, not the flickering of the lights – but the ringing. In fact she couldn't hear anything; it was peaceful, like someone had thrown a blanket of serenity over her.

And then she heard it – the most beautiful voice she had ever heard. Eden pulled her hands from her ears and tried to stand up, the tremors making it hard to keep her balance. She had hurt something in her back from the fall, but she hardly noticed when the voice spoke again. She looked around for the owner of the heavenly voice, but her house was seemingly empty.

Eden gave a sharp intake of breath as she realised the voice wasn't coming from around her – it was from directly inside her head.

'I'm crazy...' she sobbed. Nothing the voice was saying to her could possible... It just couldn't be…

And then the voice asked her something.

'Y-Yes.' she whispered.

And then it went black.

/

It had been a week since… since he died.

Dean sat on the couch, a beer sitting in his hand, as he did every day. Sam watched him with a careful eye from the kitchen – if you could call it that – of Rufus' kitchen. He turned his gaze out the window, watching the drops of rain slide down the glass.

It had been a hard week, there was no doubting that – but Dean was taking it worse than with nearly anybody they had lost so far.

Sam sighed as that last thought hit him square in the face as being rather strange. It wasn't normal to be this young and to have lost the amount of people they had in their lives. Mom and dad, Jo and Ellen, even Castiel, and now, Bobby. Bobby who was the closest thing they had had to family on the planet.

Dean hadn't spoken since he died.

Sam turned back to his brother, and opened his mouth to ask for the millionth time how he was, when there was a knock at the cabin door.

Dean immediately turned to gape at Sam.

'Who the hell is that?' he asked gruffly.

A little shocked that he had heard Dean say actually words instead of conversing through grunts, he stuttered in reply. 'I – I have no idea.'

The knocking continued.

'I didn't think anybody knew we were here.' Dean growled again, his brow furrowed, as it seemed to always be these days.

'Well evidently, someone does.' Sam retorted, as he made his way across the room to open the door.

The knocking was louder now, and the knocker seemed more desperate to get inside with every knock.

Dean thumped his beer down on the table, pushing himself up from the couch. 'I'll get it.'

The elder brother stalked across the room to the cabin door, as Sam made his way back to the kitchen, opening himself a beer. There was no point in arguing with him – there was no way he would win.

Dean hesitated at the doorknob. Nobody was supposed to know they were there. But whoever was on the other side of this door wanted to get in badly. He grabbed a knife from a shelf near the door and gripped it tightly behind his back.

Then he opened the door.

The girl looked up at him, one arm resting on the doorframe. It looked to Dean as though she were struggling to hold herself up. She was drenched, and whilst the ground was wet he could see traces off blood from where she had walked up to the door. She looked up at him, her face gaunt, her wet hair sticking to her face and her neck, and she smiled.

Then she fainted.

Dean dropped his knife just in time to catch the girl, her wet body falling into his arms lifelessly.

'Oh my God.' Sam said, leaving his beer to help his brother carry the mysterious woman to one of the couches. 'Who is she Dean?'

'I have no idea.' Dean heaved as he lay the girl down. 'Do we have some towels or something? And something to clean her up with?'

'Dean, is she even alive?'

'We'll soon find out.'

As Sam went to look for something to dry the stranger, Dean knelt down beside the couch to have a proper look at her.

She was young, early twenties maybe. But she looked sick. There were bloody sores scattered across her face and arms. Her skin was beyond pale, a poorly grey colour; leaves and twigs adorned her long dark hair. She was still alive, he could tell from the slight shiver she was giving off – she must have been freezing out in the storm with only a singlet and jeans to keep her warm.

And then he saw her feet.

The soles of her shoes were complete worn out. Why she had bothered to leave the tops on he couldn't begin to understand. But it was the bottoms of her feet that horrified him.

They were red. Not a single scrap of skin was protecting the flesh underneath, which looked as though it had been hacked at and pounded with a meat tenderiser.

Dean ran a hand over his face and through his hair. What had this poor girl done to get here?

'Is she alright?' Sam had run back into the room, a towel in one hand and a cloth in the other. He dashed to the sink and ran the cloth under the hot water before running them back over to Dean.

'I don't know… I don't know.'

Dean dabbed the girl's forehead with the damp cloth, tenderly wiping the bloodied areas on her face, but not wanting to hurt her. She probably used to be pretty – he thought – before whatever happened, happened to her.

Sam was drying her off with the towel when he saw the bottom of her feet.

'Dean, her feet.'

'I know.'

'What happened to her?'

'I don't know.'

'You really don't know who she is?'

Dean stood from the girl's side and grabbed Sam's arm, dragging him to the kitchen. 'I've never seen her before in my life! Despite the amount of girls you think I've been with Sammy, I have a fairly good memory for faces-'

Sam pulled his arm from Dean's grip. 'Okay. Okay.'

The elder brother turned away from Sam to face the girl on the couch, his hands interlocked on top of his head, stumped.

'But I'll tell you something Sammy, when I opened that door… she sure seemed happy to see me…'

Dean was about to turn back to his brother when a noise came from the couch.

'Dean…'

The girl's voice was weak, but there was no doubting that she just said his name.

'Dean?'

The Winchesters looked at each other, bewilderment crowding their features.

'Dean!' The girl yelled, as though calling out from a nightmare. Her body lurched forward, her hands gripping the sides of the couch until they turned whiter than they had been before. The breaths coming from her lungs were deep and raspy, and a mixture of sweat and moisture from her hair began trailing down the sides of her face.

Dean sprinted across the room, crouched down by the girl's side and tried to stop her from moving too much. They had no idea what kind of condition she was in, or whether moving her would cause more damage.

'Hey, hey. You just need to sit still for a moment okay?'

The girl looked at him, her eyes wide in disbelief. She swung her legs over the side of the couch so she was facing him.

'Hey, I told you stay still! You could be hurt!' he growled, putting a hand either side of her face to check her eyes.

She blinked a few times, her eyes not leaving the face of the man in front of her.

'I found you.' She whispered, the relief and amazement clear in her voice. 'I finally found you.'

Dean loosened the grip on her face, pulling away to examine her – not in a medical sense, but to see what she was trying to pull.

'You were looking for me?' he asked sceptically, glancing back at Sam.

'Of course.' She replied, full of sincerity. 'I had to find you Dean.'

'And why is that, may I ask?'

The strange girls eyes narrowed, almost in offense. 'Why?' she retorted, 'Because… Because I…' And then realisation dawned upon her, her eyes widening and the corners of her mouth turning down only so slightly.

'You don't know who I am.'

With an exhausted laugh, Dean ran a hand over his face. 'Lady, I've never met you before in my life.'

Clearly dismayed, their visitor lowered her head, her gaze at Dean's feet. 'You don't recognise me… I mean, I realise I look different… I just thought that maybe you-'

She lifted her head to look at Dean, but something over his shoulder caught her eye instead. Slowly she tilted her head, seemingly enthralled by whatever had grabbed her attention.

Sam had been observing the two from the kitchen, and suddenly, he realised who it was sitting on their couch. It had been so long, and it had seemed so impossible, he hadn't even considered the possibility.

'Oh my God, Dean.'

'Not now Sammy.'

'But Dean, that's-'

'Sam!' Dean launched from the floor, stalking across the room. 'I'm trying to figure out why the hell this chick thinks she knows me, so if you wouldn't mind shutting your pie-hole-'

'You kept it.'

Both the boys turned to look at the softly spoken woman, her eyes still fixed in place. Dean followed her line of sight, hoping to make sense of the jabber this girl was coming out with, when he finally saw what she was looking at.

Castiel's trench coat.

'She thinks she knows you Dean,' Sam muttered, 'because she does know you.'

The girl looked at Dean and smiled. 'You kept it.'

Dean stumbled backwards, staring at the girl in disbelief.

'Cas?' he whispered, almost inaudibly.

She nodded.

It couldn't be him. It just couldn't. Dean wouldn't allow himself to believe it. He had closed the door on his feelings about Cas'… death? It was easier that way, not thinking about him. And this girl… whoever she was… thinks she can just come in and try and fool him?

'No. You're not Cas.' He snarled, looking away from her. 'You could be anyone. Anything. Don't think you can fool me.'

'You don't believe me?'

Sam placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. 'Dean, come on.'

'No! No this is not fair. We've been through too much to have to deal with this-'

'I'll prove it.'

The accused imposter rose to her feet uneasily, supporting herself on the arm of the couch to stop herself from swaying slightly. The brothers found it strange that she didn't seem bothered standing on what used to be her feet. 'I'll prove it,' she repeated determinately, 'Ask me anything.'

Dean glared at the stranger, trying to convince himself that her eyes didn't look remarkably familiar. Menacingly he stalked towards her, not taking his eyes off her face.

'If you're Cas, what was the last thing you said to me?' he growled, victory riding on his voice.

She lowered her eyes and spoke softly. 'I told you that I was ashamed. That I overreached. And I told you I was going to redeem myself to you, and that I meant it. And then I told you to run before… before they…'

'The Leviathan.' Dean muttered, taking a step backwards. 'How did you know that?'

'Because I said it Dean! Because I'm Castiel! I'm the one who dragged you from hell! Those handprints on your shoulders? They're mine! That trench coat over there, that's mine! Why won't believe it's really me?'

'Because it hurts too much!' Dean roared, pursing his lips together tight like he always did when he was upset. 'You left.' Dean murmured. 'You left and it nearly destroyed me. And now you just come back and expect me to believe…'

Dean looked the girl over once more, and at last he didn't see a strange woman standing in front of him, but the friend that he had lost all that time ago.

'It's really you isn't it?'

The girl let out an exasperated sigh, and nodded her head wearily.

And then Dean ran at her, throwing his brawny arms around her, squeezing her tight. He didn't say anything – just hugged the fallen angel, not wanting to let go, worried that if he did Cas would disappear again, maybe this time, forever.

'I had to find you.' Cas said weakly, 'No matter what, I had to find you and tell you I was sorry. I want to redeem myself to you but-'

Cas' new vessel began to cough, deep rasping barks that shook her entire body. Dean was forced to break their embrace, sitting her down on the couch. Sam, who had been curiously observing the reunion, moved to the other side of the room, sitting at the table behind the couch.

Cas pulled her hand away from her mouth, and Dean grimaced as he saw the blood she had coughed up.

'What's happening to you?'

Cas took a deep breath and leaned against the couch back. 'This vessel, she's not strong enough for me. But the Leviathan destroyed Jimmy's body; I couldn't use him. This body could hold me, but not for long, and I don't have any of my powers – I only thought I'd need her for a week at the most, just to get me to Bobby's house. But it was burnt down, and you weren't there. I had to go through every possibility of where you would head next. This was the most likely. I walked for three weeks to get here. Her body… it just wasn't strong enough.'

Dean grabbed the wet cloth still sitting on the couch and wiped the blood from Cas' mouth and hand. Cas walked for three weeks to find them – no wonder the poor girl's body was in such bad shape. He couldn't help but feel slightly guilty.

'Cas…' Dean couldn't believe he was about to say this, 'Cas you need to leave now.'

Cas' brow furrowed deeply. 'But- but why?'

Dean grabbed Cas' shoulders tightly, fighting back the tears that were burning behind his eyes. 'Cas – you're killing this girl. But if you leave now we might be able to save her.'

The wide familiar eyes of the girl grew wide with acceptance. Slowly Cas nodded, knowing it was the right thing to do.

'I'm sorry Dean. I just had to find you and tell you that. I will never stop trying to make this up to you. I just have to find a more, permanent way…'

With care, Dean moved a hand to Cas' face, cradling it there. 'I know. I know Cas.'

'I'm worried I'm never going to see you again.' Cas whispered, the girl's eyes full of pain and apprehension.

Dean looked into those eyes, and knew at that moment he felt exactly the same. He was worried this would be the last time he would see Cas as well. And suddenly he realised what he wanted to do – it didn't matter that this wasn't Cas' body; it didn't matter that Sam was watching thoughtfully across the room – what mattered was that he couldn't let her – him – leave without knowing how much he cared for him.

He placed his other hand against the girl's other cheek, and pulled her face towards his. Nervously with eyes closed, he pushed his lips softly against Cas' – just once, just enough to let Castiel know that he cared about him more than he had known.

They broke apart, a confused, distressed look upon the girl's face.

'You'll see me again. I promise.' Dean's voice cracked a little as he spoke, but he tried to keep a smile for the scared angel. He didn't know if it was even possible to keep that promise.

Cas nodded again, though slightly tentatively. He looked over his shoulder to where Sam was sitting thoughtfully. 'Goodbye Sam.'

Then the girl looked at Dean again, but didn't speak – didn't say goodbye, didn't say a word. Just gave the elder brother a weak smile.

This was not goodbye for them.

The vessel took a deep breath, and suddenly the room was filled with white, so bright that the boys had to shield their eyes. When they could finally bear to open them, they immediately turned their attention towards the couch, where Cas' vessel was collapsed, unconscious.

Instantly they both pounced upon her, feeling for her pulse, for breath, for any sign of life.

'Can you hear me?'

'Open your eyes!'

'Wake up!'

'Come on, come on!'

Awkwardly her eyes fluttered open, her breaths coming in short quick gasps.

'Hey, hey! Stay with me!' Dean ordered, his hands clasped either side of her face again.

The girl looked blankly at him, blood filling and trickling from the side of her mouth.

'Can you tell me your name?'

The girl tried to swallow and then spat some blood onto her lap. 'E-Eden.' She choked.

'Okay, Eden. You're going to be fine. We're going to take you to a hospital, okay?' Dean turned to Sam who was sitting next to the girl on the couch. 'Go get the car started.'

Sam sprinted from the cabin, grabbing the keys to their 'new' car as he left. Dean stood and looked around for the closest thing to wrap her in, his eyes falling upon the trench coat hanging in the corner. He grabbed it, throwing it around the girl's shoulder. Gingerly he placed an arm under Eden's legs and behind her back, lifting her to cradle in his arms. Dean headed for the door as fast as he could, making sure not to injure her any further.

'Are you Dean?' Eden spluttered, her eyes half closed.

'Shhh. Don't speak.' He instructed. She needed to keep as much of her strength as she could.

'But before I woke up… The angel – Castiel – he gave me a message for you.'

Dean's eyes widened and he stopped for a moment in the doorway, wondering if perhaps she had just hallucinated this message.

'He said…' she stammered, 'He said he found Bobby.'

Dean's voice choked in surprise, his mouth hanging open wide.

'He says hello… And that he misses you… you idjits.'