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Fallen so Greatly

Title: Fallen so Greatly
Pairing/Characters: Castiel, Dean
Rating: PG
Genre: Gen
A/N: Written for spnforthesane "Supernatural Thursday Contest" #01


Castiel would not turn his back on heaven and willingly be hunted for the rest of eternity to save humanity.  He wished he had the courage to make that sacrifice, but he did not.  He would make the sacrifice for Dean, though.  He wondered how he had fallen so greatly that he would turn his back on his own brothers and sisters for one human who had looked at him with disappoint in his troubled green eyes. 

Why should it matter to an angel of the Lord that one lowly human had expected more from him?  Why did Castiel not mind that this human shortened his name to Cas?  Why did he want this human to respect him?  Why did he actually value this human’s opinion of him over that of his own kin? 

Castiel did not know, but he had eternity to figure it out because he would not leave Dean Winchester’s side whether he understand why or not.

Broken

Title: Broken
Author: eternal_dolar
Words: 4,622
Characters: Castiel, Uriel, Dean, Sam
Category: hurt/comfort
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers for 4x16
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: Castiel breaks and only Dean and Sam are left to pick up the pieces and try to put the broken angel back together

 

Castiel was with Marcious and he didn’t know why. 

Marcious was a fellow angel that Uriel had asked Castiel to visit today.  Uriel did not want Castiel to go with him and that made him uneasy.  Castiel had no authority left to demand his brother tell him where he had gone today and if Uriel did not volunteer the information then he was not ever going to share it with Castiel.  He did not share everything with Uriel either, but it was obvious Marcious was just…babysitting.  Yes, Castiel was fairly certain he had used the human term correctly to describe his current situation.

He was an angel of the Lord.  Castiel did not require a babysitter, nor did he want one.  He did not want to stay in this faceless warehouse with an angel who was not pleased by his presence.  He wanted to know the location of Uriel because he suspected it involved the Winchesters.  Castiel was very uneasy with the thought of Uriel alone with Dean and Sam. 

He flapped his wings and bore flight, but a strong force gripped his wings and slammed him into the ground.  It was cold, rough, and it hurt.  It hurt his human vessel’s back and it hurt his wings.

“You cannot leave,” Marcious said towering over him.

Marcious never liked Castiel.  To Castiel’s recollection, he had done nothing to warrant such dislike.

“I don’t know why Uriel keeps you around.  He should just kill you.  But no,” his tone became very bitter, “he won’t let anyone hurt you.”  Then he smiled and Castiel did not like still lying on his back beneath that smile. “But, Uriel’s not here is he?”

Castiel moved.

Marcious manifested a blade in his hands and swung it at Castiel.

Castiel moved from the blade’s path and Marcious swung again.

He did not move fast enough and felt the blade slice the flesh across his abdomen.  Castiel felt his vessel’s blood as he moved to avoid another swipe of the blade.  He was always more of a protector and Uriel was the fighter.   Castiel did not like to take life.  Other angels did not share his point of view, especially Marcious.

Marcious was a master at sword fighting.  It was as if he glided on wisps of wind to stealthy appear next to Castiel just to stab him.  It was hard to move in time to avoid the blade sliding into his vessel’s body and his angelic being.   

“Why are you trying to kill me?” Castiel asked hearing the fabric of his coat tear, but not feeling his flesh tear this time.

 “It’s stupid that we all have to go out of our way to pretend just for you.” Anger fueled his motions and the swings of the blade were almost elegant. “It’s obvious you aren’t on our side so why can’t we just kill you?”  His cheek stung and he felt blood run down his face.  “Uriel needs to stop babying you.”  His coat tore more and so did his flesh. “You’re as weak as the mud monkeys and deserve to die with them.”

Castiel caught movement from the corner of his eye.  He turned and grasped the arm holding the blade and twisted.  Wings flapped and both tried to overpower the other.  Castiel may not have been the best fighter, but he was stubborn.  He was stubborn in his views and he could be just as stubborn in battle.  He was not going to let Marcious continue to harm him.  He would not let go until Marcious released the blade.

Suddenly, Castiel was slammed into a cement wall and through it, but he did not let go.  Castiel flapped his wings and slammed Marcious into the rubble-covered floor.  They continued to slam each other into surfaces until only one wall of the building was left standing and still Castiel did not let go.

Marcious slammed Castiel into the rubble-covered floor again.  Castiel flapped his wings and slammed the other angel into the floor.  He felt the blade slip.  In a second, it was over.

Marcious lay dead on the cement floor with a gaping hole in his body and the black shadow of his wings forever burned into the earth.  The blade disappeared the second Marcious died.  Only a blade formed from an angel’s feather can kill another angel and once an angel was dead so was their weapon.

Castiel did not take the time to heal himself because he just realized the reason Uriel had sent him away and prayed he was not too late.

 

Before Uriel could drag Dean off to torture Alastair, Cas appeared.  Uriel seemed surprised and Dean thought it was kind of fun to see the all-powerful angel surprised by something.  Uriel’s glimpse of surprise was gone as soon as it appeared though, but Cas looked like someone killed his favorite puppy, which may not have been so off considering he was covered in blood. 

His stupid trench coat was torn and bloody, he was bleeding from multiple cuts on his face, and he was covered in a white powder that looked like dry plaster.  It was Dean’s professional option as a hunter who knew something about getting slammed through walls that Cas had gone through at least one wall himself.

“You’re hurt,” Uriel stated, more anger in his tone than usual and was that concern in his tone?

Cas replied emotionless, “Marcious did not follow your orders.”

“I was very direct when I said no one was to harm you.”  He growled, “I’ll kill him.”

“I already did.”  His tone was still emotionless, but his eyes told another story.

 “Good.” Uriel smiled and sounded like a proud parent.  “You always were too hesitant to kill.”

Cas’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why did you not just kill me?”

“We have fought beside each other for eons,” he said as if it should be obvious.  “We are brothers.  I want you to be a part of this.  I want you to witness our brother rise from the depths of Hell to be with us again.  Witness these pitiful mud monkeys cease from existing.  This world will be ours again, brother.”  His excitement was worrying.  “But your misplaced attachment to these parasites have blinded you for far too long.  You’re just confused, you’ll see that your loyalty to them was foolish and come to your senses.”  Uriel’s kind tone was disturbing and continued to be disturbing, “You’ll join us, but I know how stubborn you can be, Cas, which is why I wanted you to come to our side in your own time.  I didn’t want to push.” The disturbingly kind tone ended and a cheerfully creepy one started, “But now that you know there’s no reason for this charade and I can finally kill these worthless excuses of space.”

Castiel placed himself in front of the Winchesters. “I will not allow you to harm them.”

“Cas,” Uriel sighed, “how many times must we go over this.  They are nothing.  They do not deserve to be alive and won’t be for much longer.”

“They are our Father’s creation.”

“Our Father,” Uriel scoffed.  “Our Father who creates these parasites and stops speaking to us.  When was the last time our Father talked to any of us?  He just left us after creating these filthy creatures.  Our Father sent our own brother to Hell because he stood up for himself.  What kind of a Father sends his own child to Hell and punishes anyone who disagrees with him?  He never even showed himself to us.   Our Father,” Uriel shook his head in disgust, “should be in Hell, not Lucifer.”

Castiel repeated himself, “I will not allow you to harm them.”

“Don’t make this choice, Cas.  Join us,” Uriel tried again, “We could claim this world as ours again.  Help us cleanse it of all filth.”

“I will not allow you to harm them.”

“Fine.”  A blade slid down beneath the sleeve of his suit. “Then I’ll have to kill you, too.”

 

Dean always thought two angels fighting each other would involve heavenly lights or wings or something else besides two guys pounding the crap out of each other with their fists.  Sure the punches could throw the other through a motel wall and across the motel parking lot and knock down a tree and all, but Dean had still expected some kind of special effects other than super strength.  Maybe he just watched too many movies.

They followed the trail of destruction from the hole in their motel room, through the small forest, and to the basketball court.  A shotgun filled with salt and a .45 filled with silver wasn’t going to do much or anything against an angel, but he felt naked going into a fight unarmed.  They wouldn’t be needing them though.

Laying on the cement court beneath the florescent pole lights, lay Uriel.  He lay still with a dark hole through his heart and a permanent black shadow of wings scorched into the cement.  Castiel was on his knees beside Uriel, just staring.  Dean recognized the look.  It was a look he had seen often reflected in the mirror.  It was a look that asked the horrible question, “What have I done?”

The look wasn’t right on an angel and not Cas. 

Dean crouched down in front of the motionless angel and blocked his sight of Uriel.  Cas looked even worse up close.  He had numerous superficial cuts and a deep gash on his forehead and another gash across his nose that bathed the entire right side of his face in blood that dripped down his neck to stain his shirt red.  That stupid tan trench coat was torn in too many places too count and covered in blood, too.  An angel should never be covered in blood and especially not his own blood.

“Cas?”

They heard the wail of sirens.

Dean and Sam locked gazes. 

“Cas, we have to go.”

No response.  He just continued to stare straight ahead as if he could see straight through Dean to Uriel.  He was an angel so for all he knew he really could be seeing straight through him. 

The sirens were getting closer.

“Sam, go pack our stuff.  I’ll meet you at the car.”

Then it was just Dean and a traumatized angel.

“Cas…Castiel.”

Nothing.

Dean sighed and climbed to his feet.  Then he wrapped an arm around Cas’s waist and pulled the angel to his feet.  He kept his arm around the smaller waist and took a step forward.  Cas took a step forward, too.  Dean took another step and so did Cas.  All good so far, Dean picked up the pace and they slowly made their way out of the woods.  Dean was never so glad to see his beautiful Impala sitting along the edge of the parking lot.  He opened the backdoor and helped Cas in the backseat, shut the door, and shooed Sam from the driver’s seat.

The car ride was filled with silence with both brothers stealing glances at Cas who was just staring outside the window or maybe he was staring at his reflection in the window.

Dean pulled over at a random motel that was far enough away from their previous one.  Sam took charge of checking in and Dean took charge of Cas.  With a squeak, he opened the driver’s door, closed it gently, and opened the back door.

Cas didn’t even blink when Dean crouched in front of him, he just continued to stare at the same distant place.  Dean frowned.  Cas was still bleeding.

“Can’t you heal yourself?” Dean asked.

In a toneless tone he responded, “Haven’t I?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t seem to care.

Dean saw Sam coming from the corner of his eye.

“Sam got us a room.”

No response.

“You have to get out of the car.”

“Oh,” Cas said again, but he made no move to actually get out of the car.

Again, Dean slipped an arm around the angel’s waist and gently pulled him from the car.  Cas just let Dean lead him to their room and sit him on the bed furthest from the door.  He sat beside the angel.

Dean heard Sam moving and the sound of running water from the bathroom, but his attention was focused on Cas.  The angel didn’t always do things and in ways that Dean agreed with, but he honestly believed that Cas cared about him, which Uriel confirmed since Cas was basically demoted because he cared too much about him and Sam.  Cas did his best to have their backs and Dean was going to re-pay him.  After all, if it wasn’t for Cas then he would have had to torture Alastair and that just wasn’t something Dean would ever be ready to do.

 Sam returned with an ice bucket filled with water and a washcloth.  He placed the bucket on the floor and crouched in front of Cas.  Dean recognized the warm smile and knew his words would be warm and calming.  It was how Sam talked to victims. 

“We’re going to clean the blood away so we can see how bad you’re hurt.  Is that okay?”

Cas nodded.

Dean dipped the dry washcloth in warm water, wrung it out a bit, and then gently swiped it across Cas’s forehead.

“I’m going to remove your jacket now,” Sam said in the same gentle tone. “I’m going to need you to stand up a second, okay?”

Dean helped the angel stand and Sam gently pulled the bloodstained jacket from his shoulders and down his arms.  Then they sat Cas back on the bed. 

Sam unknotted the already partially unknotted tie and slipped it over the angel’s neck.  Dean cleaned the blood away from his face.

They worked in silence.

 

Dean and Sam were being so kind to him and Castiel owed them an explanation.  He knew the meaning of human words, but he had trouble putting human words to his non-human thoughts and non-human experiences.  The Winchesters deserved an explanation and he would try to explain.

Castiel had a feeling he did not know how to describe because he had never felt it before.  He felt sad when his brothers and sisters fell in battle, but it did not compare to the feeling he was experiencing.  It felt like his soul was being torn apart while being clenched in ice-cold hands.

“I do not like this feeling.  I wish it gone,” Cas began.  “I killed two of my brothers today.  I did not know Marcious well.”  He remembered his fight with him in vivid detail and wished he did not.  “I ended his life today.”  He ended another life today and wished he did not remember it in such vivid detail either. “I knew Uriel from the beginning.  Since I was alive, Uriel was there.  We were always partners.  I was never a very good angel,” Castiel admitted. “Things tried to kill me often, but Uriel never let anything hurt me.  He always protected me.  He was a true brother.  We always had different views on humanity, but I did not think he would ever wish hell on earth and kill our own brothers and sisters.”  He sighed. “I do not like this feeling.  I wish it gone.”

There was something wet sliding down his face.  He reached up and brushed the liquid away with his fingertip.  He looked at the wet substance on his finger.  It was a tear.  He was crying.  He had never cried before.  Castiel did not like that feeling either.

There were arms around him.  His face was pressed into a warm chest, equally warm arms wrapped around him and warm hands rested on his back.  He recognized this as a hug.  Castiel had never been hugged before.  It was his understanding that this gesture was supposed to provide comfort.  He appreciated the gesture.  Never before had Castiel thought anyone with demon blood would offer him comfort or that he would find comfort in such a simple gesture.  So much had changed.  He had changed and he did not know if it was for better or worse.

His entire being ached.  Castiel was tired.  He was tired of this war.  He was tired of remembering.  He was tired of feeling.  He just wanted everything to stop.  He wanted to find peace again.  Castiel suspected he would never find peace again and he did not like the feeling.  He did not like feeling.  He did not even like being able to feel that he did not like feeling.  One year ago, he would have never had such feelings or thoughts.  It used to be easier, simpler.  Uriel used to be alive.  The seals used to be unbroken.  Lucifer used not to be close to walking on earth.  All of his brothers and sisters used to be alive.  Castiel was tired of thinking as well.  He wanted to stop thinking.

“Cas?”

The tone was worried.

The arms were no longer around him.  He had not notice when they had left.  Castiel also felt cleaner and suspected the Winchesters had cleaned the blood from his skin.  He appreciated that.  He had not liked that feeling either.

“Cas?”

Dean was requesting his attention with his tone so he brought his gaze to his face.  Dean seemed pleased so Castiel must have interrupted his tone correctly. 

“Why don’t you try to sleep?”

Castiel had never slept before, but he had never killed two of his brothers either so he nodded.  Gentle hands guided him to his feet, he heard fabric rustling, and then the hands guided him to lie down on the bed.  He felt tugging on his shoes and then both shoes were no longer on his feet.  He had never removed his shoes before.  It felt strange not to have them on his feet.  It also felt strange not to have his coat and tie, but they were both covered in blood so he did not mind that they were gone.

Soft fabric was suddenly covering him.  It felt nice.  The pillow beneath his face was soft, too.  He felt another blanket added and felt warm.  He liked this feeling. 

“Close your eyes Cas and try to relax.”

He did as Dean asked.

 

Sam and Dean stood over a sleeping angel.  Sam didn’t particularly like the angels, but Cas was better than Uriel at least.  No matter what had happened between them, Cas stood up to Uriel and wouldn’t let him hurt either of them.  He protected Dean and for that he didn’t mind helping him.  He killed Uriel to protect them and as a result it broke him.  Cas wasn’t some all powerful being, but someone who had killed and now would never be the same.  He had had a sort of innocence before and now it was gone and it was never coming back.  Sam still remembered how it felt to have his innocence take away so many years ago. 

From what Sam could piece together, the two angels were like brothers to each other.  Sam and Dean had both watched each other die.  That was horrible enough.  He couldn’t imagine being the one to kill his brother.  There was no doubt in either brother’s mind that Cas was feeling emotions and it looked like it was destroying him.

 

Uriel was going to kill him.  His own brother was going to kill him.  The blade pressed into his chest hard enough to draw blood.  The cement ground hurt his back and wings.  He was not able to move.  Castiel’s wings were damaged and he was not even able to flap them. 

“I wanted you to stand by my side and see this world as it should be—ours.”  Uriel said his final words to Castiel, “Goodbye, brother.”

Castiel did not have the strength to watch.  He closed his eyes.  He felt his own blade slide into Uriel’s heart and felt the second his brother died. 

Suddenly, hands tore at his fractured wings and he cried out at the horrible pain.  Castiel’s eyes snapped open.  Uriel stared into his eyes.

“How could you do this to me, Cas?” he demanded.  “I protected and loved you for eons.  How could you kill me?”

“I am sorry,” Castiel pleaded to the dead Uriel. “I am so sorry.”

“Sorry won’t bring me back.  You killed me and now I’m going to kill you.”

Uriel’s strong hands wrapped around his throat and squeezed.  The dead angel leaned all his weight on the broken form of what was left of Castiel and he let out a pitiful sound of pain. Uriel was going kill him and Castiel was unsure if that was really a bad thing.

 

Cas was whimpering in his sleep.  It was morning and they had made it through the night without any problems.  Sam had went to fetch breakfast and Dean was on angel watch.  Cas let out another broken sound.  Dean sat beside him on the bed.  He used to do this with Sam back when he had nightmares when he was a kid and after Jess.  God did that feel like a lifetime ago.

“Cas it’s just a dream,” Dean soothed him with gentle words and gentle circles on his back. “It’s just a dream and it’s time to wake up.  You’re safe.  You’re okay.”

Finally, Cas stopped making such broken sounds and opened his eyes, but those pretty blue eyes even looked broken.  Before he even realized what he was doing, Dean pulled the angel to his chest and wrapped his arms around the frail looking being before him.

“It’s okay, Cas, it was just a nightmare.  It’s over.  You’re safe,” he whispered.

The words seemed to calm him and he relaxed in Dean’s arms.  Dean had missed being the big brother.  He missed being the one to take care of Sam like he had done since Dad placed Sammy into his arms and told him to run from their burning home.  Sam didn’t need a big brother to take care of him anymore.  If anything these days, Sam was taking care of Dean more than he was taking care of him.  For all the times Dean had complained about chick flick moments, he had never really meant it, not when it came to Sammy.  But Sammy was Sam now and Dean wasn’t the person he used to be either.  None of them were the people they used to be, angel included.

Hesitantly, Cas admitted softly into Dean’s chest, “I think I’m broken.”

“You aren’t broken,” Dean said just as softly.

“Angels should not feel.  We should not sleep.  We should not have nightmares.  We should not kill our own.”

Dean sighed. “Did you want to kill either of them?”

“No.”

“If you hadn’t killed them would they have killed you?”

“Yes.”

“If you hadn’t killed Uriel would he have killed me and Sam?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to die?”

There was a pause.

“Cas?”  Was his angel suicidal?

“No, I don’t believe so,” he said, but he didn’t sound too confident and Dean didn’t like that at all.

“Do you want me and Sam to die?”

“No.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Cas.  You were just defending yourself and us.  If you hadn’t then you would have died and Uriel would have killed me and Sam.  You aren’t broken because you can feel.  I spent a lot of my life trying not to feel a damn thing because it made the job easier that way, but it was just an act.  It couldn’t have lasted forever and it didn’t.  You just kept your act on for a lot longer.  It doesn’t make you broken.  If anything you were broken before and fixed now.”  He wasn’t sure if the angel believed him so he repeated, “You aren’t broken, Cas.”

“I feel broken,” Cas said just as softly.

“You went through a lot and that’s a normal feeling, but just because you feel broken doesn’t mean you are.  Do you understand?”

“I believe so.”

“Good.”

Silence stretched on before Dean asked, “Are you ready to face another day?”

Cas answered honestly, “I am unsure.”

“Sam’s bringing back food and coffee.  Have you ever eaten anything?”

“No.”

“Then today you are going to experience something good.  Sam better be bringing back donuts, I told him to bring back donuts.  There are all sort of donuts.  There are chocolate covered ones, and powered sugar covered ones, and jelly filled ones, and glazed covered ones, and so many more and all good.  You’ll love donuts.  It’s not as good as pie, because nothing is as good as pie, but donuts are like the second best pastry ever.  Coffee is good, too.  Coffee and donuts, the perfect breakfast.”

“I don’t deserve such kindness from you.”

“I’m not going to starve you, even if you aren’t technically going to starve you should still be able to taste donuts and coffee.”  He dropped his cheerful mood, “There are good things to feel, Cas.  Not everything is bad.  A pain in the ass angel once told me that good things do happen.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Don’t mention it,” Dean said. “Is this chick flick over because I hear my baby?” 

Dean gently repositioned Cas so that he was leaning against a pillow and not Dean’s chest.

Cas’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.  “Chick flick?” he asked, “Baby?”

“I’ll explain later,” he said already moving from the bed to open the room for Sam. “Did you get donuts?”

“Yes, Dean, I got donuts.  I said I would get donuts.”

Dean took the bag and left Sam with the coffees and closing the door.  Dean moved back beside Cas and dug into the bag.  “Well, excuse me for questioning you.  It’s not as if you ever forget anything I asked you to get, like pie.”

“Are you ever going to let that go?” Sam asked bringing the coffees and sitting on the other side of Cas.

 

Castiel felt safe.  He recognized this feeling because he used to feel it with Uriel.  He felt safe with the Winchesters on either side of him.  He liked this feeling. 

Dean took a donut from the bag and placed it into Castiel’s hand.  The angel took a small bite.  He chewed the strange texture and then swallowed.  He repeated the process.  Castiel had never eaten anything before.

“Well?” Dean asked, “How do you like it?”

“It is…” Castiel had no frame of reference to compare the taste to and finally settled on, “not unpleasant.” 

“’Not unpleasant?’ Really?  I give you one of America’s most delicious creations and that’s all you can say?”

Sam interrupted, “America didn’t invent donuts, Dean.”

“I don’t care and that’s not the point.” Dean put a cup of coffee in Castiel’s other hand, the one not holding a donut.  The cup was warm.  It was a pleasant feeling.  Dean continued, “Let’s see how you like coffee then.”

Castiel took a small sip.  It was warm.  He swallowed.  It felt like it was warming him from the inside out.

“Well?”

“It is not unpleasant.”

“If that’s how you feel then give me the coffee and donut and I’ll eat them.”

“More like devour,” Sam muttered.

“I heard that.”

“You were supposed to.”

The bickering was calming.  He took another bite of donut.

“Ha,” Dean teased, “I knew you liked it.”

“Leave the angel alone, Dean.”

A year ago, he would not have felt safe between a human with demon blood and one from Hell.  He had changed and he believed it was for the better.  He took another sip of coffee and enjoyed the feeling of warmness.  Yes, he truly believed that he had changed for the better.

Fin.
 

 A/N: I have been wanting to write Castiel for awhile and was really inspired by last weeks ep.  I haven't written a fic in years so be kind.  Also, if its not that clear, Cas's dream was all real until the point that Uriel came back to life.  I had shown one angel's death and thought the aftermath and nightmare worked better for Uriel's death.  I would love to hear what you thought.

Fanart

I was listening to a song that made me think of angels and then of course I thought of my favorite angel, Castiel, and thus this was born. Its an abstract view of angels. I interpret it as trying to capture an angel's essence, especially their beauty and wonder and that little something that says 'I am far more powerful than you.'

Take from it what you will.

wings

Tags:

Icon

I finally figured out how to make animated Gifs in Photoshop.  I should be working on any of my three ongoing projects, but Cas is way too fun and pretty to look at.  It's Castiel/Dean because I love those two together and since its never going to happen in SPN I will have to continue to obessive over them in the form of fanfics and pretty suggestive pictures.



First post

I feel obliged to post something here so here it is. I love fanfiction.net, but some great shows sadly only have fics barely over single digits in volume; however, this wonderful site has the solution. It's neat that anyone with similar interests can find other works all posted in lovely little fandoms created by fans.

Profile

shine
eternal_dolor
eternal_dolor
Dean: My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me about protecting Sam, that was his crap! He's the one who couldn't protect his family! He's the one who let Mom die, who wasn't there for Sam! I always was! It wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me! And I don't deserve to go to Hell!

Sam: You heard it on the yard?
Dean: Yeah.
Sam: Dean, does it bother you at all how easily you seem to fit in here?
Dean: No, not really.

Dean: Planes crash, Sam!
Sam: And apparently clowns kill!

Dean: You haven't called a soul for help, you haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything, aren't you even going to say anything? I've done everything you've ever asked me, everything. I've given everything I've ever had, and you're just going to sit there and watch me die? What the hell kind of father are you?!

John: You know... when you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt and after what I'd seen I'd be...I'd be wrecked. And you...you'd come up to me and put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in they eye and, you'd say 'Its okay, dad.' Dean, I'm sorry.
Dean: For what?
John: You shouldn't have had to say that to me. I should've been saying it to you. I put too much on your shoulders. I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know that I am so proud of you.

Sam: Look, this isn't a dream, all right. I'm here with you, now, and you are about to kill yourself, Dean.
Dean: No, I'm pretty sure. Like, 90 percent sure. But I'm sure enough.

Dean: But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero? What about us, huh? Mom's not supposed to live her life? Sammy's not supposed to get married? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad? It's... (pause) ...yeah.

Dean: Bitch.
Sam: What're you calling me a bitch for?
Dean: You're supposed to say "jerk."
Sam: What?
Dean: Never mind.

Sam: You okay?
Dean: No, not really.
Sam: What? What's wrong?
Dean: Well, I kinda have this problem with, um... (makes the movement of plane taking off with his hands)
Sam: Flying?
Dean: It's never really been an issue until now.
Sam: You're joking, right?!
Dean: Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?
Sam: Alright, uhh… I'll go.
Dean: What?!
Sam: I'll do this one on my own.
Dean: Are you nuts? You said it yourself, that plane's gonna crash.
Sam: Look, Dean, we can do it together, I can do this one by myself. I'm not seeing a third option here.
Dean: Come on! Really? Man...

Dean: Ya' know she could be faking.
Sam: Yeah, what do you wanna do, poke her with a stick? [Dean nods] Dude, you're not gonna poke her with a stick?
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