For the first time since Lisa, Dean was in love. He was on Cloud Nine, and whenever he was on Cloud Nine, something always inevitably happened to knock him off the cloud and back down to Earth or in this case, RhyDin.

It was Sunday, the Lord's Day, a day of rest, and he was making breakfast for himself and Paige when he was knocked off the cloud for the umpteenth time.

"Dean," a voice called from behind him and he spun around, a frying pan in his hand in which he'd been scrambling some eggs. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was made of iron and might come in handy if a ghost were to make a sudden appearance. As it happened, it wasn't a ghost that appeared before him, but something else. Something almost as disconcerting.

From all outward appearances, he looked like an ordinary man, but Dean knew better. Ordinary people didn't appear suddenly in your kitchen on a Sunday morning uninvited, unless they were either a demon or an angel, and he thought he'd taken enough precautions to protect the loft against both.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean demanded, looking the man over. He was middle-aged, with brown hair, just starting to gray at the temples, blue eyes, and wearing a suit, like a banker or a lawyer or maybe someone on their way to church on a bright Sunday morning.

"Please, don't let me interrupt your cooking. I'm sure you worked up quite an appetite last night."

Dean narrowed his eyes at the man's insinuation. "What happened last night is none of your damned business." As far as Dean was concerned what had happened the previous night was no one's business but his and Paige's.

"Oh, but you're wrong," the man smiled, and Dean wondered again whether he was an angel, a demon, or something else all together. "Anything that involves you is very much my business."

Dean eyed the man warily. There was no way he was going to turn his back on him, until he knew what he wanted.

"You needn't worry. I'm not here to cause you or your little girlfriend any harm. I am, in fact, here to help you."

"Help me," Dean scoffed, still unsure as to the man's origins. He'd been offered help by both sides before, and things had never gone according to plan. "Pardon me for saying so, but whoever....whatever you are....I don't need your help."

"All right, then. Let's just say Sam does."

"Sam?" Dean arched a brow, his expression darkening at the mention of his brother. "What about Sam?"

"When last you saw your brother, how was he doing, Dean' How was he handling his little problem?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dean replied, turning his back on the man so he couldn't see the look of worry on his face. "Sammy's just fine." He knew better, but he didn't want the man to know that.

"The wall Death built in Sam's head came down, Dean. He's losing his mind, and he needs your help."

"The hell are you talking about?" Dean asked, letting go of the frying pan and turning back around to face the man, brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance. "Who the hell are you? What the hell are you? Demon or angel?"

The man smiled, and Dean was reminded of a cop he once knew a long time ago. Someone who'd tried to help him. A decent guy, but just another name on the long list of dead allies.

"My name is Ezekiel. I was a friend of Balthazar's."

Dean didn't miss the past tense of the statement, and he narrowed his eyes at the man. He relaxed just a fraction, knowing that whatever was riding around in the man's meat suit was more than likely an angel, not a demon. He knew Ezekiel had been a prophet, but what would an ascended prophet want with him' "What do you mean was?"

Ezekiel frowned. "Balthazar is dead. So is Raphael. A lot has changed since you left home."

Dean tried to hide the look of shock from his face, unable to master control of his emotions as well at seventeen as he had been at thirty-one. "You're here to take me back." It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact. Somewhere deep down, Dean knew it was only a matter of time before someone came for him, before someone burst his bubble, before someone knocked him off his cloud.

"Yes and no," Ezekiel answered. "I am here to take you home, but only part of you."

"Part of me?" Dean echoed, questioningly. "What do you mean, part of me?"

"I have orders from high up to keep part of you here. Call it a favor or a reward, if you will."

"How high up?" Dean asked, curiously. Who had the order come from' As far as Dean knew, Michael was in the pit with Lucifer, and Gabriel and Raphael were dead. God was missing in action, and who knew what the hell was going on with Cas.

"High up," the angel repeated, offering no real answers.

"Look, I'm getting a little tired of playing puppet on a string here. I'm in charge of my own fate, and I'll decide what happens to me. Not you, not Michael, not Lucifer, not Cas, not even God."

Ezekiel smiled. "That is what Free Will is all about, Dean."

The man stepped forward, and Dean instinctively backed away. "Oh, no, you don't. Last time Cas touched me like that, I couldn't take a crap for a week."

"Really, Dean....I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for the sake of humanity. Free Will or not, your Destiny awaits."

Dean tried to move and found himself frozen to the spot, unable to escape and unable to fight back. The man closed the distance between them and pressed two fingers against Dean's forehead.

Dean felt a wave of pain pass through him, like an electrical shock, like some unseen force was tearing him in two. He gasped and cried out in pain, and then everything went black and he collapsed in a heap on the floor, the eggs still sizzling away unattended in the frying pan.

"Oh, Dean." Her arms slid around his neck to hug him close. "I am not. I'm not. Oh please, don't cry.." Her eyes closed tightly and she kissed his head. His brother was his family. He had to leave and It broke her heart.

His arms went around her, clinging to her as the tears came. He knew it was too good to be true, too good to last. It always was, but he wanted it so badly this time. "Paige, please..." he whispered, his voice broken, unable to bear losing her, losing someone he loved again. "Please, don't leave me."

She blinked and her head tilted to bury her face in his hair. "I would never do that Dean. Even if you did go I'd wait for you forever. I'm yours, Dean. I'll never be anyone else's. I am with you always. Don't forget that."

He turned and buried his face against her shoulder, clinging tightly, and breaking into heart-wrenching sobs.

That sound nearly had her falling to her knees. "Dean. Oh Dean don't.." Her eyes clenched tightly and she found herself crying along with him.

He pulled his head away from her shoulder to meet her eyes, tears on his face, mirrored in her own eyes. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to make her cry. "I just....I just need to know he's okay. That's all. I love you, Paige, and I'm never gonna leave you." He said it for a third time, more determined than ever.

She looked over his face, her tears trickling down her cheeks. Reaching out to his own face she started to dry his eyes. "Dean, it is okay to go to him."

He shook his head, somehow knowing that if he went home, it was likely he wouldn't be coming back. "There has to be another way."

Her fingers stopped at his lips. "I am not saying leave forever. Go see him and check up on him. Visit him. That doesn't hurt to do."

He brushed his fingers across her cheek, brushing at the tears that mirrored his own. Why did everything have to be so hard" Just when he thought he'd found happiness. "I can't, Paige....I'm afraid if I go back, I..." He broke off, the thought of never seeing her again bringing a swell of fresh tears to his eyes.

"You won't be able to come back?" She questioned softly.

"I don't know," he answered miserably, not willing to take that chance. "It's not fair. I'm happy here with you."

"I'll come with you." She spoke gently and leaned to kiss his wet lips. She was okay with kissing his tears.

Her kiss prevented him from arguing with that, and he kissed her back, his lips wet and salty with tears.

He could argue until he was blue in the face. She'd go with him.Yes she would and maybe, just maybe that kiss was to shut up a mouth she knew that could be stubborn.

He slid his arms around her and drew her into his lap, brooking no argument while those sweet lips kissed his, soothing his aching heart and soul.

She pulled back from the kiss, her lips grazing over his, "Are you hurting anywhere..? Physically I mean.." He drew a shaky breath, exhaling slowly, and shook his head. He was still aching a little, but not enough to warrant worrying her. "I'm fine." "Are you still hungry' I can cook you something. Or we can go lay down together for a bit." She felt so torn. She wanted to tell him things would be okay but she didn't know if that was true. He was hungry, but he'd almost lost his appetite now, which was odd for Dean. He shook his head, unsure if he could eat right now or had the strength to do anything much worthwhile. "I'm okay," he insisted, though he really wasn't. All he really wanted to do was hold her and never let go. She sighed and slid down into his lap, moving his arms so that they went around her waist. Softly, "No, you aren't."

Okay, so, he was a bad actor and she saw right through him. "I just need to make sure he's okay. That's all, Paige. I swear." He wondered if he should tell her what had happened his first time in Rhydin, how he'd tried to go home and his soul had been split and then they'd eventually come for him anyway.

She smiled and pressed her lips against his brow. "Dean, I don't think you are going to up and abandon me."

"That's what happened with Quinn," he admitted quietly, though it had not been by choice. He pulled her close and rested his cheek against her shoulder. "I'm not her!" She scowled at him for the comparison. He wasn't comparing her to Quinn. He was only comparing the circumstances. But he dropped the subject, not wanting to upset her further.

Her hands cupped his face so he'd look up to her. "Even if they took you suddenly and without warning I would wait for you. I know you will, no, would come back to me. I know that for a fact. I would wait for eternity for you to come back to me." He found himself looking into those beautiful eyes of hers and knew he was hopelessly in love with her. "I don't deserve you."