This is a thank you for all of you who take the time to read my stories and review :) You guys make my day every day! I suppose it's also a sort of Sweet Sixteen birthday gift for my sister, even though she doesn't read fanfiction and I would absolutely die if she saw it XD But, yeah C:

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~Don't Let Me Go~

"We can't do this anymore. It will be easier for both of us if you just let me go."

.

"Castiel! Castiel, please! Whatever I said, I'm sorry!" Dean Winchester's heartbreaking cries echoed through the empty night air. Dogs down the street barked at the commotion but Dean ignored them. He searched the sky desperately, hoping to catch sight of his raven-haired angel amid the glittering stars. The tiny glowing orbs shimmered down at him; but gave him no comfort from the icy chill biting through his clothes and coaxing the air from him in cloudy gasps.

He didn't hear the angry shouts from of his neighbors, or the honking of a passing car as he strayed into the road in his absent-minded flurry. He ran about, zigzagging from street light to street light, eyes trained upward.

The longer he waited the more panicked he became. His erratic breathing grew even more intense as realization set in. He tried to fight off the thought; but it nagged at him, the reality of it reinforced by Castiel's continued absence. The eerie howl of night swept around him and he fell to his knees in the cold dew soaked grass of someone's front yard.

Darkness shrouded him from sight; which would have been a steadying thought if he had cared to think about it. But right now, his only focus was on the pain that was ripping his heart to pieces. Hopelessness hit him like a punch in the gut, robbing him of his breath for a few agonizing minutes. The world swam beneath his swaying form. He doubled over, clutching his chest tightly, mouth open in a silent scream.

Pain would have been an understatement for the sensation he was experiencing now. It was more than just plain hurt...

In this moment it was as if he were feeling death a million times over. His life, his soul, everything, was ripped from him in a split second. It didn't make sense that he was still alive. How could he still be breathing when all that he felt inside was pull of a black hole?

No, this was worse than ordinary pain. This was heartbreak, and loss, and all the torment in the world wrapped up and thrust inside of him. The sorrow clutched his throat and sent tears streaming from his eyes. And the truth of it all hit him with the force of a train.

He had never meant to tell Castiel how he felt. Hell, he never intending for things to get this far in the first place.

Castiel was an angel.

He was an angel and Dean was... lost. Sin coursed through the hunter's veins like blood. Everything about him, everything in his life, was smoke, and blood, and sin. Everything except Castiel.

No, Castiel was the angel sent to raise him from the blazes of Hell. Sent to retrieve him, so he could serve the purpose he was supposedly created for. They were both pawns in the same game of power and good versus evil. Right versus wrong. Dean versus Sam.

If there was any way to escape this so called destiny, Dean would find it. He would turn the world inside out to find a way to avoid this fate.

And Castiel had been his Ace. In this twisted game, he had kept the angel close, hoping to use him as an advantage to his side. If Dean failed then Castiel would be his last hope for finding a way out. The angel's inside access and immense knowledge was a huge benefit.

Dean tried not to feel bad about manipulating Cas. He was an angel after all; one of those holier-than-thou assholes that seemed to derive pleasure in the sole task of making Dean's life miserable.

He never expected Castiel to rebel against the armies of Heaven.

He never expected Castiel to give up his power to help the two young hunters struggling to oppose God's plan.

And he never expected to fall in love with the blue eyed Angel of the Lord.

Thinking back, it was hard to decide exactly when it happened. Maybe it was the time Sam was gone and Dean spent the day introducing Castiel to the many joys and tragedies of daytime television. Or the time Dean bought Cas his first ice cream cone and watched with a satisfied smile when the angel rolled his eyes back and moaned in surprised delight. Or any one of those countless times they stayed up late and just talked to each other in the dark.

He didn't mean for it to go that far. He never would have allowed himself to get close to the angel if he had known that all the while he planned to use him, their hearts were entwining, weaved together by grace and the closeness that just happens. The kind of familiarity where you sit on opposite sides of the couch and then, before you know it, you're sharing drinks and brushing away the occasional stray eyelash while he stares a little too intently at your face.

But, you can always say you would have done something differently when it's too late to change anything.

Could Dean have taken a step back if he had known what would develop between him and the angel? Or would a glimpse of the connection they would soon share make it impossible for him to do anything but welcome it with an open heart?

It is both a curse and a blessing that we are unable to see the future. Our shortsightedness was fortunate for Dean back then. Otherwise, he would have had to make the choice to give up the greatest sense of fulfillment of his life... or suffer the untimely conclusion of their 'mistake'.

But this did no good for Dean now. His life was like a curse, every breath an unbearable agony. Why did he have to go on living? Why couldn't God just grant him the single mercy of erasing him from existence? Michael would sure like that.

And, to make it all worse, he was without any small chance he ever clung on to. He and Sam were like wisps of smoke between two crashing tidal waves. They were going to get destroyed. Burned out, beaten, and thrown away like they had never been alive in the first place.

...Why?

Even without all the sins they had committed, all the good they succeeded in doing... Why would God- if there was a God- consider it acceptable to put these two boys through more brands of Hell than any of his other creations? Were they only made to be the whipping boys of all creation? What on earth was right about that?

And to top it all off, Dean had been given the most unbelievable thing in the universe. And he treated it like an unwelcome burden; a card to play if he was down to nothing. Castiel was his best shot at overcoming the odds. Castiel was his friend. Castiel... was the only person he had ever truly fallen in love with. And Dean had made the mistake of keeping these feelings hidden, from Cas and himself, until they could be held back no longer.

His feelings had come to light earlier, his heart bared for the world to see.

And Castiel had rejected him.

If there was one person, one single person, that Dean trusted not to hurt him, it was Castiel.

Well, he had been wrong. And now he was being torn apart from the inside out.

Although he tried to resist, Dean's mind ran mercilessly over the events that transpired only minutes ago, playing it over and over in his head like a sick movie.

...

Castiel sat, as he always did, on the blue couch in front of the television. His trench-coat lay discarded on the back of an armchair.

His electric blue eyes were darker than usual, shadowed in the poorly lit room.

Dean sauntered across the living room, cold beer in his hand, sitting down heavily beside Cas. He knew he shouldn't have been drinking, but in depressing atmosphere he found himself unintentionally downing one beer after another. His mind was a bit foggy, but he didn't mind it.

He faced the TV, but didn't see it; his attention being drawn toward the man he was almost close enough to touch. Every day lately, Dean had grown increasingly aware of Castiel's presence. Knowing, even without looking, when the angel entered a room or aimed his cerulean gaze at him.

The hunter had been aware of the emotions swirling in his chest like a swarm of excited butterflies for a while. But he never acted on them; and he had no plans to. What he and Cas had right now was enough.

But, sneaking a glance at the lithe, tempting form mere inches away, drove the self restraint out of Dean's mind.

Who would pass up a chance like this? And Cas... He had probably never even had his first kiss...

Castiel turned to look at Dean, and, noticing the crease in his brow, tilted his head in that cute way he had a habit of doing.

He was unprepared for Dean's sudden incline and froze when their lips met.

Dean ignored Cas' rigid posture and wrapped an arm around his waist, scooting closer. He cupped the angel's head in his hand and curled his fingers around the pitch black locks of hair. Castiel's hair was softer than anything Dean had ever felt before. And his lips... They were warm, and sweet, and... absolutely perfect.

He skimmed his tongue gently across Castiel's lips. Then parted them and slipped inside. The other man's mouth was like the taste of light. Snow, and mint, and white roses.

Castiel remained unmoving until Dean pulled away. There was a pink blush in his cheeks that Dean thought was adorable.

"I love you." Dean whispered. His voice was barely audible; but he knew he had been heard.

Saying the words out loud suddenly broke down all the walls he had built up around his heart. A grin spread across his face. He felt... free. Freer than he had ever been in his entire life.

They were close enough to each other for Dean to spot three freckles on the angel's face.

Excitement coursed through his veins and he would have gone in for another kiss, but he was stopped by the look of hurt that shone in Castiel's eyes.

He pulled back, confused. "Cas? What's wrong?"

Castiel shot up from the couch and strode to the door. Dean jumped up and chased after him.

"Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" Dean's voice was pleading, dread filling his stomach with ice. He wanted to reach out and make Castiel stop, but something deep down in his soul made it impossible for him to do anything but follow.

The dark haired angel made no reply as he swept out into the black night. His face was a mask of calm, but clearly he was flustered beneath the surface. Even if he didn't show it, Dean could tell something was wrong.

All of a sudden he stopped. He spoke, without turning around, "We can't do this anymore. It will be easier for both of us if you just let me go."

And then with the sound of flight he was gone.

...

He was gone. The love of Dean's life. The only reason Dean wanted to keep breathing.

How are you supposed to react when your soulmate rejects you? How are you supposed to recover from that? If Dean said 'yes' to Michael right now, would he be able to die in peace when it was all over?

Dean was bent over, still crying, arms hugging his body. His nose brushed the cool damp of ground. Hot tears fell into the grass. Broken sobs rocked his body, nails digging into his palms.

"Cas..." He prayed, grief stricken, his voice the most pitiful sound ever made. "C-Castiel... please... Please, Cas... Come back to me... I n-... I need you! Please!... Please... Please... please... please..." He trailed off, begging in hushed whispers.

Time was a meaningless thing in the smothering fog of of dusk. It could have been hours or merely seconds that passed while Dean broke down; although, to him it felt more like years. Years dragging by at a maddeningly slow pace, taunting him with their unending misery.

Dean's head ached, the byproduct of his strain and the heartbeat thundering in his ears. He was so consumed by his own deafening thoughts that he almost missed the faint sound of breathing directly behind him.

A flash of movement, the sweep of cloth, and suddenly there was someone kneeling beside him. Dean already knew who it was; the familiar etheral static of electricity told him that.

Dean stayed perfectly still, but unable to stop the flowing tears from continuing to stream down his face. He weeped quietly and even though it was embarrassing, he didn't care. He knew that the only reason he had been able to draw back his beloved angel was the fact that seperation was already killing him. And even if it was just his pity Dean recieved, it was enough to slightly numb the sting of pain in his heart.

He lifted his head, streaked with wet trails of sorrow, and blankly stared ahead.

"Dean." He barely caught the whisper, but instinctively understood the faltering tone.

He didn't answer.

Castiel continued, tentatively reaching a hand forward, "Don't cry. Please." The angel was unsure of how to comfort Dean. It was no secret that human sympathies were something he found confusing. His trembling fingers alighted just on the back of Dean's shoulder.

His gentle touch elicited a whimper from the hunter. Tears welled up again in his eyes and the sobs threatned to become insuppressible.

Why was Castiel doing this? Why would he not return the hunter's affections and yet still have the power to make him cry like a love struck teen?

Dean shrugged away from Castiel's touch and sat back, pulling his knees up to his chin. He covered his face with his hands; there was no way he could hide the emotions crossing his expressions otherwise. And he couldn't handle any more brutal honesty; the previous heart wrenching whiplash still had him reeling.

"Why did you come back?" Dean asked softly. He didn't give Castiel a chance to answer before snapping, "Clearly you don't care about me."

"Oh, Dean..." Castiel's voice was stressed with pity.

"I love you, Cas! I love you and you don't give a shit about me and it... sucks." Dean's voice broke on the last word and he squeezed his eyes shut, praying for strength; even though the only 'God' out there seemed to derive great pleasure in tormenting him.

"Dean..." Castiel murmered, leaning closer and lowering Dean's hands from his face. He brushed the back of his own hand against the hunter's damp cheek. Dean's eyes flickered upward and he met the angel's sad blue gaze.

Castiel opened his mouth as if to speak but no words came out. He frowned and cleared his throat. "Dean, I... I need to tell you something. But understand that if I tell you this, things can never go back to being the way they were."

The hunter stared. Was Castiel saying what Dean thought he was saying? Or... was he about to tell Dean he could never see him again? He contemplated the right way to answer.

Finally, Dean decided, for better or worse, he wanted the truth. Even if it ended up killing him.

"You can tell me anything."

Castiel hesitated, as if he was reluctant to believe Dean. Of course, given the fact that they were sitting in a stranger's front yard in the middle of the night, it was probably a reasonable mistrust.

He licked his lips and folded his hands in his lap, dropping his eyes to them. Taking a deep breath, he uttered in a low voice, "I- When I raised you from the depths of Hell, it was not my will to become any further involved with you or your brother. But you kept seeking after me and, somehow... I find that have become closer to you than I have been with my Father or any of my brothers. In only a short amount of time you have come to mean more to me than I ever thought a human could. And... despite my best intentions, I found myself worrying about you. Caring if you were... with someone. Curious of the dreams you saw when you slept. Watching over you while you saved countless lives. ...I don't know what 'love' feels like... Human emotions are puzzling to me. But, if my sources are correct, then... I... I am in love with you. I- I feel pride, for your accomplishments. Concern for your safety. Fondness for your appearance and physical attributes. ...And hurt for your hurt."

Dean was speechless. Who knew a declaration from an angel would be so unconstrained and yet manage to be the most beautiful thing ever said.

"I'm in love with you Dean."

"Then why did you run out on me after I kissed you?" Dean cut in, eyes bright with disbelieving hope instead of tears.

Then other man let out a heavy sigh in response. He closed his eyes, struggling to force the words out, "It is wrong, Dean. We can't be together."

The hunter's hope dimmed, "Because we're both guys?"

"No. Because I am an angel of the Lord. It- ...He couldn't have meant for us to be together as anything more than allies."

Once more, Castiel was taken off guard by Dean's swift movement. His eyes flew open and he found himself kissing the emerald eyed hunter for the second time.

Dean wasted no time in intensifying the kiss, letting his mind lose everything except the glorious taste of his angel.

He felt Castiel's hand on his cheek and thought he was going to push him away. Instead, the raven haired man cupped his face, pulling him even closer. Dean leaned into the kiss, nipping at Castiel's bottom lip teasingly.

Their tongues danced together, Dean's claiming dominance. Castiel was new at intimacy and very inexperienced, but he was surprisingly good at kissing. Dean raised a hand to the angel's midnight hair, eager to run his fingers through it again. He gave it a gentle tug, making Cas moan.

He dropped his hands to the hunter's shoulders and urged him closer, leaning back until he was balanced on his elbows in the grass, Dean kneeling over him. Dean moved his body against the other man's, still kissing him. His leg rested between Castiel's and he rubbed it against him, loving the feel of the angel's body rising beneath him as his head tilted back. Castiel moaned again, loudly, breathing hard when they finally broke apart.

Dean looked down into his lust darkened blue eyes. The sincerety was almost heart breaking when he asked, "How can true love be seen as wrong?"

The angel had no answer and just stared up at him.

"I don't know." He whispered eventually.

Dean hung his head but Castiel reached up and lifted his chin. He regarded Dean with a quiet adoration. Then he spoke, his words seeming to echo in the filmy mist that surrounded them.

"But I know that I love you. And I will never let you go."

It was a promise made in the heart of love. And even though Dean wasn't sure if God existed, he knew that if He did... Castiel would face him tall, like a son faces a father, and prove their love to get His blessing.

But they didn't need to worry; they already had His blessing. After all, He was the one who sent Cas to save Dean.

He made them for each other.

Forever and always.