Dean was slouched on the weathered sofa, nursing yet another beer, the empty corpses of previous bottles scattered the floor, some smashed. Running a hand through his hair, he could feel fresh tears burn his eyes, threatening to fall. But Dean couldn't cry, he had to stay strong for Sammy, he'd let him down if he gave in to his emotions.

The smash of the beer bottle colliding with the wall was so sudden that it nearly even made Dean jump; the noise was such a contrast to the deafening silence that had suffocated Dean before. He stared hard at the wall, as though deep in thought, but really his emotions were just on edge, freezing him in place, whilst they wait for their opportunity to explode.

Suddenly, his body almost moving on its own accord, he jumped up, screaming loudly; a scream full of anguish, blame and anger. He was screaming at himself; he should have made it to Cas in time, it's all his goddamn fault Cas died; but he was also screaming at a world of deaf ears. No one was there to listen, nobody was there to care. Sure, he could call Sam, but Dean would never show Sam how vulnerable he is without Cas, he is supposed to be the big brother after all, he should be there for his little bro, not the other way round.

Dean's hands went straight to his head, clasping desperately on to the hair that rested there, in a vice grip. His screams had stopped, but his suffering hadn't. This time he couldn't hold back the tears and that scrambled for freedom, pouring down his face. His thoughts were yelling at him so loudly, he didn't hear the entrance of the new presence in the room, and he wasn't aware of how close that new company was to him.

He was prepared to yell at the individual to leave him alone and give him some goddamn space, but as he spun around, fists clenched, he froze; mouth gapping open.

"Hello, Dean. I seem to have misplaced my overcoat, I was wondering if you'd-"

The sentence was abruptly cut off by the strong arms embracing the speaker's body, it was a new feeling to him and his arms hung limp at his side, unable to return the action due to the death grip on his body.

"Cas. Yo-you're alive?" **

Castiel nodded, he had seen the multiple glass bottles lounging in pools of broken glass, and he could feel a weight on his shoulders at the thought of the pain Dean was evidently feeling. He'd heard of this feeling before, guilt was it? Or sadness? He couldn't remember, but he didn't like it. Yet, when he looked into Dean's eyes, he could see a shine in them, as though Dean was happy, and Cas realised it was because of his presence. That realisation alone caused the weight to disappear, and a smile to form, and his eyes to crease slightly.

Dean saw Cas smile, a big, proper smile, and it was the single most beautiful thing Dean had seen in a long time. Dean couldn't stop himself, he squeezed his friend closer to him and inhaled the musky, damp smell that he had brought along: it was a disgusting smell, but Dean didn't care as he had Cas back.

"I like this. These hugs, they make me feel happy and warm. I wish you had hugged me before, Dean."

Dean smiled. "So do I, Cas. So do I. But all that matters is that you're home now; where you belong."

Castiel nodded, and Dean reached for his hand. "Come on, let's take you to bed."

Dean fell asleep, holding Cas, who was wearing one of Dean's tops that was a little bit too big, close. For the first time in a long time, Dean was content.

ALTERNATE ENDING:

*Cas looked at Dean, and a smile formed, but Dean saw that it wasn't a genuine smile; forced and no emotion behind it.

"Yes, I am alive, Dean. Just not as alive as you wish for me to be."

As soon as the last word was out, the friend that was stood before Dean, faded away, leaving Dean alone and even worse off than he was before. Sinking to the floor, Dean let out a few anguished, desperate, choked sobs before slowly slipping into a haunted sleep. As like every night, Dean was broken.