Dean sat on the edge of a rusty old bath in another dank motel room with his head in his hands. He was convinced he was going crazy and needed to cool down.

"I'm gonna find a diner and get some food," Sam called. "Be back in a bit."

Dean lifted his head and said, "Yeah, okay." His face fell back down.

This was getting ridiculous. Cas was… he was back there… It was impossible for him to be here. Dean's visions of the angel were getting more vivid by the day and he wasn't sure how much longer he could take them. At first, he'd just thought it'd pass. He had only seen a glimpse of him once, driving. Then as he pulled up in the motel he saw him across the road, turned, looked back and he was gone. Then again he saw him outside the window of the motel room last night.

"I'm going crazy," he whispered to himself, rubbing his face.

Dean sighed and heaved himself up off the side of the bath and crossed to the sink. He let the water run until it was hot then started to wipe his face. His hands gripped both sides of the sink and, as he looked up, his heart skipped a beat and his hands gripped the sink even tighter. Dean whirled around and faced him.

"Hello Dean."

Green eyes met blue but Dean was too convinced that this was all in his head.

"You're not real," he said aloud, snapping his eyes shut and kneading them with the heels of his hands.

"Dean," came the voice again.

His eyes flew open and he was vaguely aware that his chest was heaving.

"It's not you," Dean said but his hand reached out and touched the man in front of him and was surprised when he realised it was solid.

"Dean, it is me."

He stared in disbelief at the angel in front of him. Still dressed in the hospital clothes, wristband and trench coat. Still with a beard. Dean wasn't aware that his hands were on the trench coat and were gripping it by the sides.

"Dean-"

"You stupid son of a bitch!" Dean cried, pushing the angel backwards and into the wall until they both came to a halt and Cas was pressed in between Dean and the wall. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"

"Dean, I'm here."

The hunter's mouth opened then shut again, any response to that wasn't coming. He relaxed his grip on the trench coat and, instead, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's shoulders. One hand drifted up into the angel's hair and his forehead came to rest on the angel's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Dean mumbled into the trench coat, trying to get some control over himself and stop himself from crying in front of Cas.

Cas' arms wrapped around Dean's waist and hugged him in. It was the best feeling in the world to Dean. Feeling wanted. The hunter was even more unwilling to let Cas go now. He shoved the questions for the angel to the back of his mind and just focussed on him being there. Now.

…

That night, after Dean and Sam had exhausted every question in the book and Cas had given every answer he possibly could, Cas looked as though he was about to fall asleep standing up.

"Well, I'll go get another room," Sam said, heading for the door.

Dean glanced at his little brother as he exited the room and narrowed his eyes whilst being internally very grateful. He switched his gaze and looked at Cas who was on his bed in an old pair of Dean's jeans and an old t-shirt. His bright blue eyes were closed and Dean got into the separate bed and looked over at the angel who had his back to him.

Then a fear gripped Dean. What if he disappeared again? This woke Dean up completely and he crossed to the other bed and pressed himself up against Castiel, wrapping an arm around his waist and making sure the skin on his arm had some contact with the skin on Castiel's hip bone.

"Dean?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Go to sleep," he said.

Dean almost felt the angel smile as he drifted off.