I figured it out the day after Cas announced he was staying with us. At first I thought it was just the usual trauma, brought back from the flashbacks, the constant screaming in my head. I was certain it couldn't possibly be this. I was clueless - I probably still am. Hell, I know I am. There's no denying that.

I'm still not sure if Sam knows. If he does, he hasn't mentioned it. He was there, after all. I still remember.

I heard a small click and the thumping of heavy footsteps as Sam walked in the motel room, followed shortly by Cas. "Hello, Dean," he uttered, his gravelly voice washing over me as he walked past. His beige trench coat fluttered as Sam shut the door. "Hey," Sam muttered. I was still staring when I reached for my beer, clumsily knocking it over from the distraction. What little that was left dripped down onto my shoe, causing me to jump back a bit. Castiel immediately seemed to notice my nuanced behavior. He smirked, and for the first time I noticed how distressed he looked himself. He was hiding something. "Are you alright?" he asked. He bent over to grab a beer from the small fridge. I almost asked him to grab me one when he set his down on the table, nudging it towards me. He pulled up a chair.

"Dean," he said again, gaining my attention this time. "You seem... distracted."

"I… I'm fine, Cas," I managed to spit out, putting on a smile for half a second. He raised his eyebrows, replied with "Whatever you say," and smiled back. His smile. That's the kind of smile that could take you away from reality.

Only then did I notice Sam was missing. I scanned the room. "Sam?" I called out. "Dude," he replied, putting a hand on my shoulder from behind. "I'm right here." He gave me that confused look we've all seen before, his mouth half open, and said "Cas is right. There is something up with you." He glanced at me one last time before heading for the bathroom. It was getting late, and I probably should have gone to sleep. But a part of me urged me to stay, to be comforted by Cas. I didn't know why.

Apparently I wasn't the only one with unrecognizable feelings. "You don't seem so great yourself," I told Cas. I smiled - for real, this time. "Are you hiding something?" His face seemed to go through a short phase of mixed emotion; his brow furrowed, then raised; his eyes squinted; he began to open his mouth, but kept it still. His cheeks grew lush with color. He chuckled. "No," he said matter-of-factly. He raised his head to match mine. I focused on those blue eyes. Behind them lay a clear wall of deception. I could tell he was trying to see past mine. It made me uncomfortable.

I suddenly stood up; he slowly raised his head toward me. "I- I should get ready," I stuttered, fumbling with the words I honestly didn't want to say. "You sure?" Cas asked, his voice unsteady. I pretended not to hear him. Sam was already in his bed. I quickly walked toward mine, disregarding the beer Cas had gotten for me. The rough feel of the rug cut into my feet. I got in, turning over to face the wall. I didn't realize at the time, but the tick in Cas's voice was that of disappointment.