He took a deep breath. The wooden floor was cold against his bare knees. The room was dark and smelled of steel.

"It's been fifteen days, Cas. You're starting to make me a little nervous."

Dean reflected on the last time they were together. He had been bold, reached out and adjusted Castiel's tie and collar. He had lost himself, a smile crossed his face and Cas took it in with these big, silent eyes. Dean had thought to himself, Now I send my handsome angel out into the world again. But of course he didn't have that much power. Castiel wasn't his angel. If he was, he would be here right now. He would send Dean some sort of sign that he was alright. Maybe Cas wasn't responding because he was done with him, tired of being treated like shit. That was Dean's worst fear.

"Please be okay. The thought of you hurt or in trouble makes me… It makes me mad, okay? Especially since I don't know where you are, I can't help you. It… It scares me to be so out of control."

It was only during these moments in the silence of the night that Dean could be honest about anything. He could be honest in prayer to Cas in ways he could never be honest with himself or with Sam.

The end of his prayer came out a whisper. "Please come back to me."

He had to finish a liter of Jack just to get a few hours' sleep. In his dreams Cas was tied up, bloodied and bruised.

Dean constantly woke up feeling guilty.