Rising sun.

Cleaning or cleansing?

Cas' P.O.V

If there is anything that cheers me up more than Dean than it's cleaning, I don't know what it is, but something about it is very therpeutic. Like cleaning away your troubles....okay that was pretty lame...so was that.

I shake my head and make my way down the hallway until I make it to the main bathroom, which is a bloody mess, Dean's clothes and undergarments are strewn haphazardly around the room, and his razor rests in the sink...he is such a slob...but in three days he'll be my slob.

Three days and I'll be his. Three days and I won't be a Novak anymore.

I'll be a Winchester.

Castiel James Winchester. Yeah, I love that.

I've made it back to our room, the hamper that I was resting on my hip full of Dean's and my clothes...mostly Dean's. I hoisted it up higher as I passed the door jamb. It was getting rather heavy.

I frowned as I noticed something silvery poking out from beneath our mattress. And let the hamper fall from my hip as I froze when I realized it was a knife, a sharp, silver box cutting knife, accompanied with a piece of crumpled paper, that was wrapped around the hilt.

And I just stood there and stared at it, confusion the primary emotion pushing at my chest, why is he hiding paper under our bed, the lovable, messy idiot.

It was slightly crimpled and looked rather new, as if it hadn't been here for a while, the only signs of wear were the creases along the folded edge, as if it had been opened, then refolded over and over and over again.

I tilted my head as I unfolded it only to refold it, when I caught a glimpse of the opening line.

Dear Cas,

Dear Cas, was all it took to bring me to my knees on our bedroom floor, to know what this was. But I had to read more, I had to know why.

Gabriel's P.O.V

"Cas? Dean?" I call from the front door.

I wanted to surprise them but they aren't home, and now I'm stuck outside their locked, apartment door. I was about to turn around, when I heard a faint desperate sniffle. "Cas?" I repeat, pounding on the door again.

"Dean, this isn't funny you idjits!"  I call out, almost yelping in surprise when the door pops open.

I stepped in cautiously, "Cas?" I whisper, something felt wrong, heavy somehow, even though Cas' happy music was on, I could hear it playing softly from somewhere down the hall.

And there was that sniffling again, that awful sniffling that sounded like-

"Cas?" I called more desperatley now.

I started down the hallway, towards the music, and there was my little brother, on his knees shaking and crying over what appeared to be a piece of paper.

I dropped beside him, resting an arm around his shoulders, "Heya Cassie, what's up?" I ask softly. He stiffens until he smiles widely throwing his arms around me. "What are you doing here?" he laughs loudly, acting as if I hadn't seen him crying.

"I came early for the wedding, you know brotherly support." I smiled, "Got plenty of that, Lucifer showed up yesterday" He grumbled in reply and I could feel my jaw dropping.

"What did he do?" I growled, gripping his shoulders.

His gaze flashed down, his lower lip trembling, "He brought Hale." He whispered, his hands now clutching my shirt.

"What?! Where is she?" I snarl, pulling us to our feet.

"With Lucifer, he said he came to reclaim what was his." he replied, his head tilting in confusion, his left hand hand all but tearing through the paper. "Cas?" I whisper.