The first time Cas died, Dean wasn't there to see.

The second time, it was a bad future where Cas wasn't an angel anymore. He didn't see that one either.

The third time, it was suicide because Dean was saying yes. Dean had helped him do it, but hadn't seen it happen.

He saw the fourth one, blood splattering in all directions and soaking Bobby.

The fifth time, it was the Leviathans, and he'd never believed it was true.

But this time, this time there are ash-coloured wings on the ground and curling up against the walls. Cas is lying there, still as glassy water, and sunlight is streaming in through the blown-out windows.

And Cas' eyes are open.

Dean gathers his angel into his lap as best he can, feathers fluttering against the movement, and looks.

There's no light in those eyes, those eyes that have watched over him, protected him, and haunted him for so long. The blue is dull and Dean thinks that this is all fucking wrong -- this wasn't supposed to happen.

But how was he to know that an angel could sell their soul?