1509

That was the year I turned 30. I don't remember much of it now, it being the year 2023. For some, God forsaken reason, I stopped aging. I lived in Germany for most my life until around 1885, when I moved to America, constantly changing aliases to protect my identity. I was born Nikolas Van Burien, now I go by the name Dean Winchester.

I have an adopted brother who knows my secret, though he is the only one other than my parents, although they are both dead. In 2009, I started to age again. I was perplexed, as I had spent 500 years being thirty, and had my brother, Sam, do some research.

As it turned out, I was a supernatural creature known as an Incubus. I stole people's souls in their sleep after seducing them to sleep with me. That's how I never aged. But all of the aging was to start back up again when I would meet my "soul mate".

"What?" I asked. Sam looked just as confused.

"Well maybe your ability diminished after you got out of Hell, Dean. That's when you started aging again." I grunted in response. I was not taking that as an answer. I had been to Hell and back before.

"Sammy, I don't think that's it."

"Well what else WOULD it be? You sleep around constantly. If it's one of these girls you've met, we could be searching forever." I sighed. Sam had a point.

"Well, we'll just have to look harder then." I snapped.

"Hello, Dean." I turned my head to look at Castiel. He was in his same suit and tie, never without the trenchcoat.

"Hey, Cas." I said, not looking up from the computer I was reading the Incubus lore on. The further I read, the more I didn't like it. If my soul mate were to get hurt, so would I, but only after we met. We would have to be bonded somehow. Maybe by marriage?

"Dean, I think I know why you stopped aging. The Angels are talking." Ugh, the Angels. Castiel was the only one who I really got along with. Michael had been a pain in my ass since I first stopped aging. 500 years of his shit...I was beyond done.

"What do they say, Castiel?" Sam asked, kindly. The kid was too sweet. Too innocent, especially coming from his childhood.

"What they say seems impossible. I myself fully believe what they say is true. On my end, anyway. Dean, can I see your knife?" I reached into my jacket pocket and flipped it to him. He caught it and I smiled, turning back to the books and websites. 

"Shit!" My arm felt like it was on fire. I looked to to see a clean slice across it.

"What the hell?" Sam was looking between Cas and I. I looked over to Cas and saw the he had a matching cut. He slowly brought the knife down to the palm of his hand and pressed down, forming another cut. 

"Seriously, what the fuck, Cas?" He stomped over to me and ripped my flannel off, leaving my tee shirt behind. He quickly took my shirt sleeve and pushed it up onto my shoulder, exposing my burn mark from him. He pressed his bloody hand against the mark and chanted something in Enochian.

"It's done." Sam still looked sick, and I was confused.

"What's done?" I asked quietly, not really wanting an answer.

"I broke the bond. We are no longer 'soul mates' but you will still age. I didn't want to interrupt your life anymore than I already have." Sam fainted. I looked from my bloody burn mark to Cas. 

"I'm not gay, Castiel."

"I know, Dean. But sometimes...God makes things happen. We were destined to be together, but I know you don't want that."

That was the last I heard of the angel I used to call my best friend. Now I live in a big house with my son, Ben and my wife, Lisa. Sam died in the war against Heaven and Hell. He went down as Lucifer's vessel. Every once in a while I'll hear Castiel's voice, see his trench coat flapping in the wind, or smell his weird watermelon and cinnamon scent. 

The sad part is, I never knew until he left how much I was in love with him.