"I'm done, Dean," Sam announced one day in the cabin. "I'm going to quit hunting. For good this time." He was leaning against the kitchen counter, a steaming mug in his hand.

There was a pause as the elder brother processed this, "Okay...what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go back to college. Move on with my life. Try and find a nice girl..."

Dean nodded, looking at the table as he sipped his coffee in his seat. "Well, I guess I never thought you'd stay in the game forever...You deserve a normal life, Sammy."

"So do you. In fact, you deserve it even more! You should settle down, Dean. After everything, you can finally live a life," the younger said, smiling wide.

"I can't, Sam."

"Why not?" The taller Winchester asked, his face crestfallen.

"I just can't."

"Well, I can't bury you again. I can't live with not knowing if you're alive or not. Dean, you don't know how much it tears me up every time you almost get yourself killed. Or when you do.."

"I'm sorry, but I just can't."

"You don't need to do this!" Sam interjected angrily, walking over to his brother and pointing at the other man's chest.

"Yes I do," Dean snapped. "You wouldn't get it!"

The moose-sized man growled, "You don't need to be a hero, Dean. There are other things out there."

"I'm not a hero!"

"Well you certainly have a hero complex. You always rush into the fire to save people, and most of the time you get burned."

"So?"

"SO?! So you never think about anyone who might mourn you! Only about fulfilling your stupid hero's ego! It's like you have a life saving quota you have to fill!" Sam yelled, bolting from the house with the Impala's keys clenched in his fist a moment after.

Dean sighed and set his mug down, staring into the now lukewarm coffee. He looked up when he heard shoes hit the floor in the doorway. Castiel, standing in his usual suit and trench coat outfit, stood in the gap. He looked curious and sympathetic as he strode across the kitchen and sat across from Dean, setting a large paper grocery bag on the table.

When the remaining Winchester brother was about to question him, Cas held up a hand signalling for his silence. He reached into the grocery bag and pulled out a cherry pie in a pie tin, paper plates, plastic forks and knives, a carton of vanilla ice cream, an ice cream scoop, and a can of Reddi whip. Dean watched as the angel piled a large piece of pie and a scoop of ice cream, topped with a small mountain of whipped cream, onto a paper plate.

"Why did you bring pie?" The hunter asked incredulously.

Castiel's head tilted to the side, looking confused as he replied, "Pie makes you happy, does it not?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then that's my reason." the angel responded as if it was the simplest thing to understand.

They lapsed into silence as Cas slid the plate across the table and watched him eat. He quietly, anxiously, fiddles with the edges of his trenchcoat as the older Winchester brother stared right back, shoveling the pie into his mouth. Dean noted how odd it was to see him so awkward, it was almost like the time he took him out to get laid. That was a strange thought, because it was almost like the angel regarded him as having the same intimidation as women did.

"Why can't you stop?" Cas asked quietly, looking as sincere and innocent as always.

Dean bit his lip and looked down at his empty plate. "You wouldn't-"

"Don't tell me I wouldn't understand, Dean Winchester. Try to make me understand."

"I don't want any sappy, chick-flick moments," the taller man said, curling his lip in disgust.

The angel rolled his eyes, "Just tell me. I won't tell Sam."

A few minutes passed before Dean answered, his voice cracking. "A lot has happened, you know? After everything; my mom dying, being raised like I was, losing Dad, losing Bobby, going through Hell and Purgatory...I don't know, Cas. I think I just don't want anyone else to go through that.

"Hell, and if I can kill the things that haunt my dreams, it'll make me feel a little bit better when I go to bed each night. It gives me a little peace for four hours. I know that being a hunter is dangerous and painful and so fucking lonely, but I'd lose it if I stopped. What would I even do if I stopped?" He asked, looking genuinely perplexed and pained. "I mean, hunting is all I've ever known. Sam...I don't know how he can leave the life so easily."

"He's afraid and tired, Dean," the angel answered carefully. "He wants to run from it all, not face it like you. He's never been a natural warrior. If you did decide to stop, you could become a mechanic. It's hands-on, and you've always had a talent in that area. However, I would never expect you to stop when you feel as you do."

The freckled man wilted, "I don't know how I'm going to keep going without Sam. It's more dangerous than usual to be alone on a hunt. It's lonelier too..."

"It doesn't have to be lonely," Cas said, looking at the other man with his usual piercing gaze.

Dean looked up from his plate and stared back as he said, "How won't it be? Sam's leaving, and soon you will be too. You always do."

There was a pause before the man in the trench coat said, "...What if I don't leave this time? The other angels already know of my...fondness for you. They won't be too surprised if I decide that becoming a hunter is something that I want to do. I mean- If you want me to stay that is."

"Why would you do that?"

"As I said, I've grown attached to you. You are important to me. We share a profound bond," the angel said, looking slightly flustered.

"Really?" Dean asked skeptically.

When the other man nodded, Dean continued with a soft smile, feeling relieved, "Thank you, Cas. I want you to stay."

The angel nodded and looked visibly less uncomfortable. He murmured, "Good...good."