hey, SPN fans! nice to see you all again. without even noticing it, i made a second one-shot about prayers. so i think i'll start calling them prayer!installments.

so here is the second installment, enjoy.

disclaimer: i don't own SPN. if i did, they would have a much better life full of Destiel and Sam/Jess.

AU/Prayer!fic. Dean never believed in God, but he always prayed for 'anyone that's out there and is willing to hear me'. One day he meets the one that always received his prayers, how does he feel when it's a Seraphim? His world will change, that's for sure.

"Everything comes to an end, but an end can also mean a new life."

...

Dean settled in his place and clasped both palms together, closing his eyes.

'Dear anyone that's out there and is willing to hear me, this is Dean Winchester.

I guess there's nothing much to talk about today… my brother is finally going to Stanford like he always wanted and I'm so damn proud of that little nerd brother of mine. My old man has finally got a sense of logic and decided to quit hunting and start doing some honest to god job and is moving to Minnesota.

I guess I'm good… I think… I don't know… I feel kinda empty, no idea why… I mean, I should be jumping in joy like a kid because my fucking not normal life has finally turned to normal and my brother is getting what he wanted! That's the best thing that could happen to me! I don't know why I feel empty… and tired, very tired…

I guess I rambled enough now, I feel like a chick now…

Whatever, I'll just finish up now…

Thank you… for listening to me, whoever you are…'

Dean opened his eyes and stared absently at the white wall by his bed, tears escaping his eyes, unnoticed.

A knock on the door startled him and he wiped his face before calling at the door. Sam peeked from the slightly opened door, "Good night, Dean."

The dark blonde man smiled and waved him away, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. G'night, Sammy."

"The name's Sam," Sam frowned at him and closed the door.

Dean sighed and resumed staring at the wall, his fingers trailing faint yellow drawing papers that he and his little brother did when they were younger. Here is this one that he did when his mom was still alive… why wings though? He never understood his childhood's naïve attitude. There are no such things as angels or god, no matter what his mom had told him about angels watching him.

No proof that they were real, so they are not real.

A knock on his window dragged him out of his musing and he looked up in suspicion, who can it be at this hour of the night? And why the hell throwing stones on the window?

He crept to the window and took a gun in his free hand as he opened the window and met with… feathers?

"Ah!" a startled yelp made him jump and he looked up to a face of a young man with dark hair and really blue eyes…

"What the fuck?!" he blinked and jumped back, on guard and his gun out.

"I'm terribly sorry, Dean Winchester. You startled me and my wings acted out of line," the face spoke but Dean did not register the words, only the gruff voice…

Wait... "How do you know my name?"

The blue eyes finally blinked and the face cocked to the side, he still wasn't looking anything below his shoulders because of certain appendix attached to the creature's back, "Well, you're the one praying 'To anyone who's out there and is willing to listen to me', no?"

"Yeah, but why are you appearing in my room in the middle of the night? And who- what the hell are you? And why are you still outside my window and not inside the room? And why am I asking that?" it was clear that Dean was freaking out.

"My apologizes, Dean Winchester," the man glided into the room and stood on the floor. Dean's eyes fixed themselves on the man's massive pure white wings that stretched from his back blades up a foot higher than his head and than until the floor, brushing it. "I appeared because I was the one to receive all your prayers and why tonight, it's b-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!" Dean pointed at him with disbelief, "You are the one listening to my rambling?" and when the man nodded, he groaned and mumbled something about growing woman-parts.

Of course, that comment had confused the man and he had commented that Dean was not capable of 'growing' any woman parts, because he is a man. And that comment had left Dean rolling on the ground, laughing. The creature asked him with concern about what was so funny, pouting.

He chuckled and patted his shoulder, "Man, you've got to learn expressions… what's your name anyway? You know mine and it's not fair that I don't know yours."

The man bowed his head, "Excuse me, Dean Winchester. My name is Castiel and I'm an angel of the lord, a seraph to be exact."

Silence…

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard correctly. You said that your name is Castiel and that you're… what?!"

"An angel of the lord, a seraph," Castiel answered calmly.

Dean looked at him, snorted and then burst full-out laughing. Castiel was baffled, "Why are you laughing? I didn't say anything funny. That was not my intent."

Dean looked at him and snorted again, "Sorry, sorry. It's just… So you're a holy tax accountant?"

Castiel tilted his head, "I do not understand that reference."

"Your clothes," Dean pointed to his trench coat and suit.

"Oh…" Castiel nodded. "This is my vessel."

He looked up to see blank eyes staring at him, "Are you okay, Dean Winchester?"

Dean blinked, "Did you just say 'a vessel'? Are you possessing some poor bastard's body?"

The angel nodded, "He asked for it actually. We angels cannot enter a vessel without the vessel's agreement."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah… makes me feel a lot better about this shit, "he said dripping with sarcasm that was completely lost on the angel, who nodded and smiled in relief. "What do you want anyway?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes, "I believe I had told you, Dean Winc-"

"Would you just call me Dean? It's annoying with all the formality, and sit. down." Dean sighed and gestured for the dark haired man to the chair stationed next to his bed. Castiel complied, "I believe I had told you, Dean, that I had heard your prayer and-"

"You decided that to come here is a great idea."

"Yes, pretty much. Was I wrong to assume that?"

"I don't know!" Dean cried in exasperation, this was getting frustrating.

"Are you okay?"

"No! You're an annoying SOB and you're an angel. A seraph. Whatever! What the hell?!"

Castiel looked sad, "Was I unwanted here? If so, I shall go n-"

"Or you can just tell me why the freaking hell are you here now!" Dean breathed deeply and sighed.

Castiel looked sheepish, "I was busy and I'd figured out that now would be a good occasion to help you."

Dean looked at him, and Castiel stared back in confusion. After a while, the taller man sighed again and grimaced, "Not that I don't appreciate that, but I didn't ask for help."

"You did, in a way," Castiel smiled reassuringly.

Now Dean was confused himself and did the tilting motion, damn that angel was rubbing on him.

"You are lonely," the angel provided.

He frowned, "I'm not."

"You are feeling empty and from your previous prayers, you don't have any friends or a person to confide to about your problems."

"Apparently, I do have and I'm watching him right now," the man grumbled.

"You consider me your friend?" Castiel piped up, his face for some reason lit up.

Dean blinked and said hesitantly, "Um… sure… why not?"

He only got a brighter smile in return, what the hell is with this guy?

"You want to confide me now?" Castiel chimed.

"Um… no offence, Cas, but you don't confide friends every second."

"Cas?" and of course he didn't listen to him, he internally groaned.

"Your name is a mouthful," Dean's mouth gave a twitch. "You don't like it?"

"It's… okay, I quite like it," the angel smiled at him and he couldn't help but smirk back.

"Good," he was seriously getting tired. "How about I get some shut eye and you will head back to whatever you came from?"

"I came from heaven," the angel nodded. "I do remember that humans need a rest for a period of time every day, if that the case, I will bid you a good night now, Dean."

"G'night," Dean waved him off.

"Goodbye," and with a flap of wings, Castiel was gone.

Well, that was an eventful night, Dean thought as he rolled unto his side and fell asleep.

The sunlight invaded his eyes and he groaned, covering his eyes and whining.

Dean opened his eyes and looked around sleepily, he was getting a feeling that he forget something very important… he dazedly noticed the childish drawing and everything from last night came rushing back to him and he groaned again, burying his face in the pillow.

Why can't his life stay normal for one fugling day?!

He noticed that he slept in his clothes and decided that he should just go down stairs and get something to eat, because he was feeling lazy today. Hey! He just had a crazy night because of some baby in a trench coat coming to him and saying that the one to hear all his prayers was an angel!

...

He froze.

An angel?

He facepalmed.

With both of his palms.

He raised his head and pondered for a bit.

he deadpanned and shook his head in frustration.

Oh crap, an angel was listening to him, putting aside the fact that he didn't even believein angels.

A freaking angel!

Why would an angel listen to him?! He was a hunter for god's sake! Well… ex-hunter, but still! His hands were bloodied and he wasn't a good person. He never went to church. He never even thought that god was an actual deity, unlike all the pagan gods he knew and ganked. He was the least worthy of all to have his prayers heard!

He buried his face in his palms, trying to fight the panic attack that crept to him. It was only a week since they ganked Azazel and tomorrow Sam is driving back to Stanford and hopefully will find someone to fill the void that Jess' death had opened. Dad had decided to move to Minnesota. Apparently, he has another kid with a different woman that had a normal apple-pie life unlike them.

The panic attack faded and anger rushed through his veins; he and Sam had to suffer twenty three years of hunting and this kid gets to live an apple-pie life?! Not that he wanted the kid to suffer, but his father decided to leave them ignorant and scared while he ran off with some woman and had his dream come true?! It wasn't fair to them, especially to Sam which all he wanted to have in life is normal.

Now he had to breathe deep to resist the urge to pummel his father into seven shades of hell and finish with a few vampires on top.

"Dean?" he jumped and his gun was pointed again to the forehead of the angel.

They stayed like that for a few moments, staring into each other's eyes intensely until Dean sighed and placed down his gun.

"Jesus, could you please warn me the next time you're there, I almost shot you, again."

"My name is Castiel, Dean," Castiel deadpanned. Dean glared at him and he smiled amusingly at him, "Even if you would shoot me, I doubt it would do any damage to me."

"Well, it's worth a shot," Dean retorted teasingly, all anger and tension vaporizing. "Why are you here anyway, Cas?"

"Well… I thought you would want to confide me, as friends do. You seemed upset when I had arrived this morning."

The man's face darkened, "Yes… I was just over thinking stuff. I have a question for you."

"What is it, Dean?" Castiel smiled patiently.

"Why me?" Dean stared at him with agony. "Why did you choose me?"

"What do you mean?" the angel cocked his head, baffled.

Dean faltered and his gaze dropped, looking everywhere but the angel, "Why did you choose me? If you didn't know, I'm a hunter. I'm supposed to hunt creatures like you, Cas. I'm no saint, I'm the opposite actually."

A warm hand cupped his cheek and tilted his head upward. Blue eyes stared into his eyes and seemed to look right into his soul. He squirmed and tried to look away, but the hand firmly held his head in place and his eyes.

After merely few moments, when Dean thought he couldn't take it anymore, the angel retreated in a muffled shock, "You don't think you deserve it," it wasn't a question.

"Well, if you heard my prayers you'd know why. Did you look into my soul?" he snapped.

"A bit," the angel admitted and Dean looked away in shame. "You have the most beautiful soul I had ever seen."

The man looked up in shock, "Are you kidding me?"

"Not at all."

"Well then man, you gotta check your inner angel's eye."

"And why is that?"

"Because obviously you're lying," Dean huffed. "There's no in hell that I have a 'beautiful' soul."

He only got a tilt to the side, he continued, "I'm a sinner, Cas. I went against almost all of your ten stupid rules and gave into the seven sins. I've killed more creatures than I can count, I couldn't save anyone. I let people down all the time, and I'm worthless. Hell, the only good things that I did in my life were Sam and killing Azazel – I'm sorry I don't think I have a 'beautiful' soul, because it's true."

Castiel frowned, his eyes bristled a bit in anger, "You're a human, Dean. The fact that you've sinned in that way doesn't change the core, your soul. You're full in love and loyalty, and absolutely not worthless; you worth more than the strongest man alive. You did things because you believed them to be right and just, you wish to save and not harm-" he noticed the human's red face, "Do you wish for me to continue?"

"No!" Dean covered his mouth and shook his head. "Please… don't… I don't deserve this… it's too much…" he laid his head on the angel's shoulder, trembling.

Castiel sighed and removed the hands from his mouth. The arms fell down, lifeless in between them. The angel circled his arms around the broad shoulders and hugged the bigger man, feeling muscles tensing under his arms.

"You're a good man, Dean. You do deserve this."

And the thing is that… Dean believed him, even though he had only met him several hours ago and is basically a stranger to him.

The tense man sighed and relaxed into the hug, his mouth tugging upwards.

"Thanks, Cas. You're a good friend," he chuckled.

Castiel beamed, "I'm glad that I could finally help you, Dean."

"Why couldn't you before?" he asked curiously.

Castiel's wings dropped and he looked like a kicked puppy. Dean patted his back, "Is everything alright, Cas?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't come before."

"Wha-?! why do you think I care about that?" Dean backed away from the warm embrace and glared at the angel. "I was only worried that you did something wrong. You sounded like you snuck out to come here."

At the sheepish look he groaned, "Don't tell me… you snuck out."

"Yes."

"So… you went against orders to see me."

"Yes."

"You do know they're going to find out and punish you."

"Yes."

"Are you an idiot?"

"Yes."

"Don't agree!" Dean exclaimed and then sighed when the angel scowled.

"What do you want me to do instead?"

"Go back! I don't want you to be punished on my behalf. You don't deserve to be hurt because of me."

"Dean…"

"No," Dean held up a hand. "We are friends, right?"

The angel nodded.

"Well then, as you know, friends are looking out for each other. So I'm not going to sit down, knowing that you'd been hurt because of me."

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel face was blank, but his voice sounded chocked. "Really, I never had someone tell me that before."

"It's about time you will, idiot," Dean ruffled his hair affectionately.

A knock interrupted their small conversation.

"Dean? Are you awake?" Sam's voice cut through tense silence.

Shit.

Dean motioned Castiel to be silent and forced a sleepy cheerful voice, "I'm fine, Sasquatch. You know you'd just interrupted this awesome dream I was dreaming about this great chick from the other night-"

"I don't need to hear your fantasies, brother," his little brother sighed. "I'm going to the bus step after lunch."

"Great! I'll come down in a beat!" Dean forced a smile.

"Okay," Sam's footsteps faded away and Deans' shoulders slumped in defeat, face turning into a scowl.

Castiel laid a hand on his shoulder and turned the man's attention to him, "Want to talk about it?"

Dean shook his head, "I should let the boy have his own life, now that Azazel is dead."

"But you feel like he's leaving you again, like that time, five years ago."

Dean chuckled wearily, "I guess so. You know… I never had someone with me that didn't leave me."

"I didn't leave you," Castiel frowned.

"Yet," green eyes twinkled in sorrow at him. "Not yet, Cas. Give it time."

"I'll not, Dean. We're friends, right?" Cas retorted, determinate.

Dean sighed and smiled at him, "Thanks, Cas. You have no idea how much it means to me."

"I do, Dean," Castiel smiled back.

"I better get ready and get down before Samantha will worry his head off," Dean joked and hopped off the bed.

"I didn't know you had a sister."

"I meant Sammy, Cas," Dean sighed.

"Oh, but he doesn't have female parts-"

"I was kidding for god's sake!"

"Don't blaspheme, Dean."

"Whatever."

"Dean…"

"I have to go, return to your home, I don't want you to get into further problems," Dean stared at him with meaningful eyes.

"Very well, I shall return to heaven. Do you want me to come back later?" green eyes grew wide in astonishment.

The man coughed, trying to hide his glee, "Sure. Knock on the front door tonight, how does that sound?"

"Good for me, I'll see you later, Dean," Castiel bowed his head to him.

"Goodbye, Cas," he blinked and the angel was gone with the sound of flapping.

The man stared for a few moments at the empty room until his brother called him to get his ass downstairs and he smiled bitterly and closed the door behind him.

"Here, Sam. Do you have your laptop?" Dean helped Sam put his suitcases into the back of the Impala.

Said man rolled his eyes, "Yeah, Dean."

"What about your phone and my number for emergency?"

"Check."

"Dad's phone number for extremely emergency cases?"

"Check."

"Your books and papers?"

"Check."

"Your brain?" he raised one eyebrow in amusement.

"Dean!"

"Check. Weapons?"

"Damn it, Dean! I have everything, so stop acting like my mom or something like that," Sam snapped.

Dean closed his mouth, only forcedly grinning and rolling his eyes in response, "Sorry, princess."

Sam sighed and swept the man into a crushing bear hug, eyes watering, "Thank you, Dean. For everything. You are the most awesome brother I could ever wish for."

Dean's face softened and he smiled gingerly as he patted the giant's back, "You didn't lose me yet, Sammy. I'll be here whenever you'll need me, don't be shy."

"I know," Sam sniffled.

"Don't be a chick, Samantha."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam had finally released him, "What are you going to do now?"

Dean shrugged, "Beats me, no clue. I'll look around, see if there's a job available somewhere."

"Are you sure you want to stay here? I mean…" he gestured around him.

Dean nodded, understanding the unsaid words. "Lawrence, Kansas," he said fondly, "I can't think of a better place to live at, Sammy," Dean smiled warmly at him. "No matter what has happened."

"I see, good luck then, Dean."

"Don't go all sappy at me, I had enough chick flicks to last me a life-time," Dean smirked.

"Shut up."

"Bitch."

"Jerk. Can we go?" Damn, puppy eyes attack.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean went into the driver seat and Sam settled at the passenger's seat.

Dean started the car and drove the Impala away from Lawrence.

Dean parked his car back at home and was surprised to see Castiel waiting on the door step, sitting on the steps with his knees pulled to his chest and his eyes looking at the skies dazedly.

"Cas?" he touched the Angel's shoulder, noting the absence of the wings.

The touch made said angel jump, and Dean had found himself looking at the sharp of a silver blade. "Whoa, whoa, Cas, wait!" Dean dodged the blade and covered his face.

"Oh, Dean," Castiel said, lowering the blade. "You startled me."

"You don't say so!" Dean was a little hysteric, he's not signed up for this shit to keep happening to him.

"I apologize."

"It's okay, just try to not stab people before checking if they are indeed enemies," Dean tried to joke a bit, his heart slowly returning to normal beating.

"My apologizes, I was in deep thoughts," Castiel sat back down, but was hauled back up by Dean's hands and was dragged into the house.

When he was released, the angel stared at the man with curious gaze, "What is the matter, Dean? You look… upset."

"No shit, Sherlock," Dean snorted. "I come back to my house and see you without your holy wings on the door step like some stupid stereotypical vamp that can't come in because he wasn't invited and looking like a kicked dog. Gee, I don't why am I upset."

"Well, I didn't know if you wanted me to roam inside your house, I don't want to intrude. And I hid my wings because through my observing of the human race, humans don't think very highly of different people."

Dean sighed, "You don't need my permission to come in, man. And about different, wings aren't different, they're not real for normal people, but good thinking."

"Thank you."

"No prob. Sit down, I'll make some lunch," Dean gestured to the couch. "What do you want to eat?"

"Angels don't eat," Castiel deadpanned.

"You don't have to be hungry, Cas. Sometimes you eat to enjoy, that's all," Dean returned the deadpan.

The angel pondered for a few minutes and then nodded, "Very well then, I shall enjoy the food you will make."

Dean blinked, "God, you can think I'm forcing you to eat. How can you say it with a straight face?"

"Say what?" Castiel did the head tilt.

"Nevermind, be back in a shake."

"But you don't sh-"

"I'll be back soon!" Dean exclaimed and ran to the kitchen, not wanting to hear the Angel's twisted understanding of expressions.

Castiel was left alone standing in the middle of the living room. He looked around him and decided to comply with Dean's advice and sat down.

Dean flipped the bacon and eggs and poured them into two plates. He decided to make breakfast food with peanut butter and jam sandwiches because he wanted something comforting. Something about sandwiches always comforted him, especially if he took off the crust, it would remind him of his mom. His eyes stung and he covered them with a palm, breathe hitching.

He fell on to his knees and his body shook with silent sobs, trying to cover them without being noticed by the angel sitting nearby.

What is he doing? Why is he crying? He squeezed his eyes tight close, not able to fight the tears flowing from them into the floor. Dammit, he's Dean Winchester, he doesn't cry over stupid matters like memories or brothers leaving to live their apple-pie life without their older brothers.

A hand on his shoulder startled him and he looked up to see Castiel hovering over him with concern in his eyes.

Dean looked at him a bit before breaking down and crying. Castiel sat in his knees and placed his head on his shoulder, patting his dirty blond hair as he cried and humming some melody.

Dean tears grew harder when he had recognized the melody; it was 'Hey Jude' that his mom used to sing to him all the time.

His heart was broken, but the angel holding him kept all the pieces in one place, slowly tying everything together again.

When he had finally stopped crying, Dean lifted his head from the soaked shirt and buried it into the angel's chest instead, his hands clutching into the material, deep instinct of searching comfort and love washing him. Castiel didn't waver and embraced the fragile male, murmuring comforting words of love and kindness.

They sat this way for a while until Dean said with a muffled voice, "We should get the food before it gets cold."

"I don't mind," the angel patted his back.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean ignored him and pulled away, face contorted in shame. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Castiel cupped his face. "You shouldn't be ashamed that you wished for kindness and comfort."

Red shot eyes looked up in surprise, "You're not angry?"

Castiel blinked, perplexed, "I don't understand, why would you think that way?" the angel seriously didn't understand why the man would think he's angry at him crying.

"Nevermind," said man looked away and stood up, turning to the counter. "Here you go," he handed the angel a plate. "You should eat some."

Castiel glared at him a bit, but Dean avoided him and took his plate, heading to the table. He noticed the angel still standing and sighed, gesturing him to sit down. Castiel still glared at him as he sat down and picked up a sandwich and bit into it. But the minute his teeth sunk into the bread, his attention went to happily munch on the food.

Dean watched in amusement as the angel dug into his food like he had never tasted anything before.

Uh… on second, he wouldn't put it before the angel to never taste food before.

"How is it?" Dean threaded his fingers and laid his chin on them, watching in satisfaction at the bright smile the angel sported.

"It makes me very happy," Castiel said, nibbling the last bit of bacon, his eyes closed in happiness.

That made Dean chuckle, this was a new side to the angel that he never saw before. He froze; as a matter of fact… he didn't even know him a day ago.

"Is everything alright?" he looked up to see concerned blue eyes staring at him. "You haven't touched your food yet. Is it about you thinking I might be angry at you crying?"

Great… what a blunt way to say that he became a chick, he thought sarcastically.

"No, I'm fine. It was just amusing seeing you eat my food like you never ate before. But considering the fact that you're an angel, I would take my bet that you didn't."

"That is incorrect, Dean. I did eat before, but as a matter of pretense " the dark haired angel said, his wings fluttering a bit.

Dean eyes went straight to the wings in an instant, wide in shock, "When did you get them out?"

"Around now? Why? Do they have something on them?" Castiel peered at his wings and brought one of them to inspect them.

"No, no, they are fine. It was just… unexpected. Damn, you're rubbing on me," he grimaced.

"I did not rub myself on you," Castiel glared at him.

"It's an expression, Cas."

"So you are inferring me to a prostitute?" he looked even more upset.

"No! I'm just saying that I am starting to speak like you… why am I even explaining you expressions? I really need to get you a dictionary," Dean gave up when the angel tilted his head again.

"I see…" no he didn't… why was his life so complicated again?

Dean finished eating his plate, still feeling empty although he had eaten two hours before and now. He went to the fridge and took out a bottle of beer, popping it open and took a swig, feeling better at the coolness prickling down his throat.

Castiel watched him intently and he took another bottle out, "Want some?" the angel shook his head and he shrugged, putting back the bottle and closing the fridge.

He gestured Castiel to follow him and sat him down on the sofa, sitting beside him when he had settled.

"What do you want to watch?"

"I never watched television before," Castiel admitted.

He got a horrified look, "You… never watched TV?" the angel nodded and he exclaimed in horror, "How can you not watch TV? Did you at least see some movies?"

He facepalmed when Castiel shook his head, "Well, it's about time you got educated on the important aspects of life. How about a show first?"

Castiel nodded, a bit hesitantly, "I would like to, Dean."

Dean went to get a video of 'Star Wars' first season, "Let's start with the classics first, feather nerd."

Several hours later, Castiel had found himself watching the end of the season and Dean asleep on his corner of the couch. He smiled to himself and stroked gingerly the dirty blond hair and the slightly red cheek, noting the three open bottles of beer lying on the table next to him and swiftly flew them to the garbage can, not looking away from the peaceful face of the young man, and wondered.

A normal man would be considered to be starting his life at this point, but Dean had just finished with one life – of a hunter and was about to start a new life – of a citizen. He doubted that Dean would ever completely stop hunting – after all, it was a part of what he was, but now he had a chance of having something he had never had – family; wife, children, a house, everything. He remembers and still sees the love that is flowing from the man and surrounds his family and the one he considers his family, Bobby. He felt a bit smug when he had noticed it starting to pool around his feet as well, happy that Dean is starting to regard him as a family or someone close to it.

"Cas?" Dean sleepy voice woke him from his musing and he stroked his hair one last time before retreating his hand.

"Yes, Dean?"

"I do consider you a part of my family now, Cas," Dean faintly smiled at him and fell back asleep.

Castiel blinked in surprise, he hadn't noticed that he had spoken out loud, but then he smiled warmly; to feel that he's a part of Dean's family made him warm and content.

A phone buzzed next to them and he raised the thing and glanced at it in wonder. It had read 'Sammy'. He hit the green button.

"Dean?" Sam's voice echoed through the machine.

Dean stayed asleep, but muttered "What Sam?"

"Dean?" he sounded worried.

"He's asleep right now," Castiel decided to calm him, but that had the opposite affect.

"Who is there? Who are you?" Sam sounded frantic. "What did you do to my brother?"

"Sam Winchester, can you please relax? Your brother is merely sleeping on his couch and I was having lunch with him."

"Who are you?" Sam didn't calm down.

"I'm Castiel. I'm a… friend," he didn't think Sam would appreciate Dean declaring him as family.

"I didn't know Dean had made friends so fast," the voice turned a bit sullen.

He suddenly felt a bit protective, "Dean is a great man, why won't he be able to make friends 'that fast'?" he snapped.

"I didn't mean it that way, Castiel," the man sounded apologetic. "It's that Dean doesn't trust people that easily."

"I'm aware of that."

"So it's kind of baffling that he would find a friend after being here only for a week. Now that I think of it, I never saw you before."

"We had met properly only yesterday," he answered, knowing it would throw Sam off-guard.

"You were phone-buddies?" the man was shocked.

"You could put it that way."

"Cas?" he looked down to see Dean staring at him with confused eyes. "Who are you talking to?"

"You brother is on the other end of this fascinating machine," the angel answered.

"Dean?"

"Sammy?" he sleepily snatched the phone and grumbled into it. "What's wrong? Already in troubles?"

"No, but I wanted to let you know that I got to the campus. I didn't want you to worry, and I wanted to see how are you doing?"

Dean checked the time and groaned, "It had only been 15 hours since I saw you, princess. Don't worry your pretty head too much."

"So is Castiel taking care of you?" Sam sounded amused.

Dean turned red, "Shut up, Samantha."

"Oh my god, he's!" Sam sounded like he was gonna to tease him for the rest of his life.

"He helps me with something! He is not taking care of me, so shut your piehole. Do you want something else?"

"Yes, dad sent his regards to you. He arrived at Minnesota and sent us a picture of Adam and Kate."

"I see, back at him. When does he come to visit?" Dean gritted his teeth, hand tightening around the phone. Castiel laid a hand on his shoulder to soothe him and he smiled gratefully at him.

"Probably around mom's anniversary to visit her grave."

"Okay. See ya, Sammy," he really wanted to finish this conversation already.

"Very well. See you later, big brother," Sam hung up and Dean sighed in relief.

"Are you okay?" Dean looked at Castiel and smiled bitterly.

"I guess that people has to move on, Cas. I need to find a job and to find someone to spend the rest of my life with and have kids with her. I can't stray back to hunting."

"You don't have to cut off hunting completely, Dean." Dean blinked perplexedly. "You can do small hunts, especially around here and still have a job and a life."

Dean smiled sadly, "Yes, I can have that. But what will I tell my wife? My kids? Will I lie to them? Tell the truth to them? Who would want a broken hunter anyway?"

"Dean, you're underestimating yourself again. I'm sure any girl would be happy to marry you," Castiel smiled at him reassuringly.

Dean shook his head, "We'll see about that, feathers."

Castiel stiffened and Dean's eyebrows rose up, "Is everything okay, Cas?"

"I must go," the angel sounded mechanic. "I have orders to return to heaven."

"Did they find out?" Dean was on his feet in panic. "Are you going to be punished?"

"I don't know, I need to find out. Goodbye, Dean," Castiel disappeared and Dean had found himself standing alone with a lone white feather resting on the couch's pillow.

He felt inside him that once again, he was left behind.

Alone…

Four years later…

Dean stormed into the station, his red helmet resting under his armpit and his coat flung over his shoulder.

"Hey, Winchester!" he looked around to see his co-worker Smith Blazer running to him. "What got you flaming?"

Dean flinched, not wanting to tell him the real truth, so he faked an annoyed huff, "Your annoying niece was feeling up my ass again," Dean spat, rubbing his rear in protectiveness.

Smith laughed and patted his shoulder, "Sorry, man. It's not my fault you look irresistible to her," he winked.

Dean groaned, "Shut up, bastard."

"You know you love me, man."

Dean winched, he didn't want to tell his co-worker that the last time he gave someone his love as a brother, he lost him merely an hour later because of his dick with feathers for family. Today marked the day when Castiel vanished from his life, like everyone else. And a lot of things reminded him that once again, he was left behind.

He still hunted sometimes when his group encountered supernatural beings while they were called to help, but he was mostly a retired hunter being an honest fire-fighter slash the boss' assistant.

"You okay, Winchester?" Smith looked at him in concern. "You always seem like you are thinking about something around this time of the year. Did you lose someone that had said the same thing that I said?"

Dean smiled bitterly, "I guess so. I only knew him for a day and he became something like my brother before he was caught by his family for disobeying and I never saw him again. It has been exactly four years since then."

Smith looked down, "I'm sorry for ya, man. Must have hurt you more then you can admit. I know what it is like to lose a brother."

"You lost a brother?" Dean looked up in shock.

The man nodded, "War, was one of the marines."

"My dad was a marine as well, died last year of heart attack," Dean sighed. "We became distant at the last three years to his life, we finished something that was the family business and had nothing to keep as together, I guess."

They stood up in silence for a few minutes, mourning lost of loved ones. Then Dean's phone buzzed and he answered it, "Winchester."

"Hey, Dean."

"Sammy? Why are you calling me? Did something happen?" Dean was alerted by the call, he hadn't heard from his brother since Maggie was born – six months ago.

"I wanted to check in, because it's today that…"

Dean wandered outside the station, at least he didn't have any duty calls yet, "Sam, it happened four years ago. I knew it would happen someday, no need to pester me about it."

"But he was your friend!" Sam sounded sad.

"Sam, he was an angel. No angel should hang out with me, and that's final. Now go back to Silvia and have a good day," and before Sam could say anything, he snapped his phone off.

Smith approached him and patted his shoulder, "It'll be okay, Annoying as they be. They actually care about you."

"I know…" he sighed. "It's just that he continued with his life and I… I'm still stuck in the past."

"You're helping people, not sticking your head into the past," the dark man was confused.

"Did I tell you how my mom had died?" Smith shook his head. "She died in a house fire."

"So that's why you had decided to…"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry to hear about that," Smith hugged him with one arm. "But that doesn't mean that you're stuck in the past. It means that you're using your loss to make sure that no one would suffer the same as you."

Dean smiled at him, "Thank you, Smith."

He got a slap to the back and a roar of laughter, "What are friends for, Winchester?"

"To annoy the hell out of me," Dean smirked.

Smith laughed, "That's also true."

Several days later, he and Smith were nursing cups of coffee after a tiring night saving a child from a house that had exploded.

"Winchester!" they looked up to see their boss, hovering with a red face over them. "How many times have I told you not to jump into any house, especially if it was about to explode?"

Smith sighed, "I asked him the same thing, sir."

Dean ignored both of them and returned to his mug. Their boss sighed and ruffled his dirty blond hair and he scoffed, "Hey! Knock it off!"

"You're one of my best people, I don't want to lose you because you were reckless again," his boss reprimanded him with a sad smile.

"I'm sorry, I'll try not to do it again," he said although the three of them knew he would do it again if it would mean to save another's life.

His boss sighed once again and disappeared into his office.

"You want to talk about it?" Smith nudged Dean a bit.

"There's nothing to talk about here, man. I mean, I got careless, right. But come on, I had worse I my life."

"You don't mean it."

"Yes, I do mean it. Getting out of exploding houses was my shtick in my old life."

"You were a thief?" the dark man asked in fake horror.

"No, I was hunting some dangerous things."

"I see… it's a secret you're not allowed to tell anyone?" Smith smirked.

"More like you won't believe me if I told you," Dean retorted.

"My bad, I won't ask." Dean nodded gratefully.

At the end of the day, they were saying their goodbyes when a shout alerted them and they turned to see the new guy hopping to them.

"Mr. Winchester!" the guy stopped before him, panting a bit.

"What's wrong, Matthew?"

"You have a guest, and he said it was an emergency. Please hurry, sir."

"I'm coming right up," he reassured the poor lad and turned to Smith, "You want to come? It'll probably be better to be prepared."

"Okay," Smith nodded and they headed to the reception.

"Oh, Mr. Winchester," the reception lady smiled at him. "Your client is waiting for you there," she pointed at his office.

"Thanks," he grinned at her and hurried to the door.

"Hell, I'm Dean Winchester, why did y-?" Dean stopped on his tracks, looking at the middle of the room with wide shocked eyes.

"What's wrong, Winchester? Who is it?" the dark man stopped behind Dean and peered from his shoulder at the dark-haired man standing in the middle of the room, wearing a trench although it's incredibly hot outside.

Dean choked on tears,

"Cas?"

The man in the room turned to him, blue eyes twinkling in glee and smiled,

"Hello, Dean."

...

"Nothing leaves until you let go, and sometimes, you don't need to let go."

That's it, you guys. was a pleasure writing this.

if you really liked this story, could you please drop me some memes about Dean and Cas' characteristic points, because i really don't know how to write them. thank you.

other then that, thank you for reading this and drop a review will ya? ;p