There have only been two moments when Dean has slipped up.

Dean was utterly confused and torn at the same time. How can two moments- two small moments- feel like eternity. How can two moments swallow up and consume his mind. And how can two moments rip apart and mend his heart all at the same time.

Dean sat alone in the bunker, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He didn't even bother to our himself a glass, instead choosing to drink straight from the bottle without hesitation. When he looked down at the bottle, he shook it and saw no liquid inside. In a fit of sudden rage, he threw the bottle against the wall, watching as it shattered to pieces.

This is what Dean had become. This is what he had amounted to. Dean told himself every single minute of every day that it wasn't him; it was the Mark of Cain. It wasn't Dean that killed all those people, it was the Mark. He couldn't control himself. But the voice in his head that told him all this was so patronising and weak that he couldn't stand it anymore, and kicked that small voice, that small shred of hope for himself out of his mind.

He knew what he was. Dean knew he was a killer, a raging monster. And after everything that had happened to him, for some strange reason he was still alive. It occurred to Dean that maybe he was alive for a reason. Maybe he wasn't dead because God or whoever the hell is in charge wants Dean to suffer inside himself, suffer with everything he'd done.

I don't deserve to live, Dean thought to himself.

He didn't bother cleaning up the shards of glass on the other side of the room. He couldn't be bothered doing it for a third time. What possessed Dean to throw the bottle was not just rage: it was a mixture of emotions. Mostly though, it was anger directed at himself. Dean could still feel the knife digging into the bodies of those men he slaughtered. And while Sam seemed devastated at the destruction Dean caused in Claire Novak's foster home, he did not even seem the slightest bit angry at Dean, which made it all the more worse. He deserved to be beaten, tortured, even killed for what he did, yet Sam, through all the sadness, could not muster up a single shred of anger toward his older brother.

And Cas.

He never knew what Castiel was feeling. While usually he was generally extremely blunt and had absolutely no verbal filter, Cas never let Dean know what was going on between the two of them.

Because, since the first kiss they ever shared, Cas blocked Dean out emotionally. It's as if he built a wall in his mind, a wall that only Dean could not penetrate. Back in 2010, the Winchesters stumbled across a case in Blue Earth, Minnesota. For Castiel, that was a dark time. While assisting them in their case against a creature called the Whore, Cas was struggling with his daddy issues. Upon discovering the non-existence of God, Castiel indulged in the most human of sins. He consumed such a large amount of alcohol that he got incredibly drunk basically gave up on angels all together.

However, when Sam went out later that night and Cas was still passed out in their hotel room, Dean found himself alone with the angel. On a sudden impulse, Dean went over to see how he was doing, when he noticed that Cas was not indeed sleeping; he was crying.

Dean remembers that night as if it were yesterday.

"Cas...are you crying?"

Castiel opened his eyes and pressed a thumb to his cheek, examining his tears. "It would seem so. What a strange sensation."

He looked for a tissue but Dean stopped him. He placed his hand on Castiel's face and brushed off the tears. When the tears were all gone, Dean kept his hand on the angel's face.

"That's better," he whispered.

Cas looked up at Dean. "How do you live with it?" He asked. More tears fell down his face.

Dean didn't have to ask. He knew exactly was Cas was talking about. He was referring to his deadbeat dad upstairs.

"I'm able to live knowing my dad was an asshole because I know that I have other people. I have Sam, Bobby...you." Dean said softly.

They fell silent and Dean realised he was still holding Cas' face. He jerked his arm back and instantly shied away from Cas.

Castiel was not at all taken aback by his sudden movements. In fact, he just stayed completely still.

"But Dean, how can you still want to be around me when you know what I've done. How can you even want to look at me-" he looked into his lap, "knowing that I'm not a good person."

Dean cupped Castiel's face in his hands and pointed his face directly at his own. "Castiel," he murmured. "I cannot think of a life without you."

And with that sentence a new emotion was triggered between the pair.

Love.

They both reached in at the same time and pressed their lips together. The kiss was so soft. So gentle, that Dean craved more of it. When their lips broke apart, Dean gazed into Castiel's eyes and said "I love you."

Cas' lips parted as he wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and pulled him in to a strong, rushed kiss. They weren't going slow and gentle any more. Both of them could not get enough of each other as they kissed hurriedly. Dean quickly pulled off his shirt as Castiel stared hungrily at his smooth, toned chest.

"Lift up your arms," whispered Dean in a barely audible voice. Castiel obliged and lifted up his arms so Dean could pull off his shirt.

Immediately, Cas pulled down his arms and covered his naked torso, hiding it. Dean noticed his strange actions and held Castiel's hands in his own, pulling his arms away from his chest.

"You don't need to hide anything from me," Dean said gently, "I love everything about you. To me, you are perfect."

Cas smiled shyly and caressed Dean's back as they kissed.

It felt like both of them had been waiting for eternity to do this. The feelings had been lingering since the day they met, but neither of them thought the other deserved them. To Cas it felt like a weight had been lifted off him, like he could finally be at peace with Dean by his side.

Shirtless and panting, Castiel stood up, holding Dean's hand. He dragged Dean to the bed, which was dirty and unmade, but Cas didn't care. He didn't care that it was the most un-romantic thing in the world.

With his celestial power, Cas shoved Dean onto the bed. Excited by his sudden change in attitude, Dean smirked a little.

In an attempt to be sexy and seductive, Cas fell on top of Dean rather clumsily, and the couple were now nose to nose on the bed.

"I'm not good at this whole being sexy thing," said Cas nervously.

Dean placed his hands on Cas' waist and laughed. "To me, you are a whole new level of sexy."

The angel breathed a so of relief.

"I love you, Dean Winchester."

And for one night,they forgot about all their troubles.

That was the first night Dean and Cas slipped up. They both spent years building up their feelings towards each other, keeping it in, but that first night, everything came out. They couldn't keep in their feelings for each other. However, the events that occurred after made the whole situation take a dramatic turn.

Dean got up from the bed.

"Sam's going to be back soon." He said as he got up, unwillingly.

Cas sighed and also stood up. He sobered up quite a bit after what they had done together.

Dean got his trench coat and put it on Cas after he had buttoned up his shirt and put his pants on. He then got his tie and put it on him, tightening it so Cas looked spotless.

"There," Dean smiled, "good as new."

Castiel looked down. "I haven't done anything like that before."

Dean laughed. "I know, don't worry," he stopped laughing and paused uncertainly. "So I guess I'm your first."

The angel straightened up and brushed his hair back. "Yes. First, and also last."

Dean, who had been smiling slightly, dimmed a little. "What do you mean, last? I had fun, and admit it, you did too."

Cas dropped what he was holding and looked up at Dean in the eye, a blank expression on his face. "I'm an angel, Dean. I don't do this kind of thing. It goes against what I am."

Dean's posture faltered. His expression changed as well. It turned to utter confusion.

"So...what are you saying? That this can never happen again? I don't think I can do this, Cas. Not for one more day. Every single day I want to hold you, touch you, kiss you. Every day I fight the urge to hold you in my arms and tell you how much I love you because I was always afraid of the consequences. Now, there are no consequences. We can be together and not worry about anything or anyone else." Tears blurred his vision.

Castiel sighed in exasperation. "No, we can't be together." He emphasised every word to get his point across.

"Damnit, Cas! What is wrong? Is it about Sam? Because he will understand, I know he will. It might take him a while for him to process, but he will get over it. And if he doesn't, then who cares!"

"Dean, I-"

"Or is it the other angels? Cas, you know they're a bunch of stuck up dicks. Hell, got passed out drunk only a few hours ago because you hate god and their asses. So what is stopping us from being together?"

Castiel looked extremely uncomfortable. Even at a time like this, he still looked like he had no idea how to handle the situation. "you just said it. I had consumed a high amount of alcohol which resulted in my behaviour. I didn't know what I was doing, and everything I said was just the alcohol talking."

Dean was taken aback and stumbled backward slightly, as if he lost the use of his legs. "No." He breathed. He could not believe this.

Castiel also took a step back, but this time it was towards the door. "I don't know what you thought this was, but it certainly didn't mean anything," he said, having a hard time getting the words out. For extra measure, he said "I'm an angel of The Lord, not your friend or anything more than that."

Dean was at a complete loss for words. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't stand. All he could do was watch Castiel walk out that door.

Through his tears, Dean managed to choke out the words, "if you walk out that door, don't you ever come back."

And the hardest part was that Castiel didn't even look back as he took his last few steps out the door.

Of course, Dean's final words didn't mean anything because the angel was back the next day to help them with their next debacle. They did not talk about the events of that one night, but numerous side glances and hands lingering next to one another proved that it was not forgotten. Both of them were thinking about it, but they could not react to their feelings. Not again.

Sam had no idea at all. He seemed so preoccupied with the whole Michael-Lucifer thing that he did not notice how strange Cas and Dean were acting.

And now, Dean is sitting, once again alone, thinking about the events of that night. It's starting to annoy him, the fact that it has taken up his mind to such a great extent. He grabbed another bottle of whiskey and poured himself another glass. Maybe a few more drinks would make him forget about his love completely.

Love.

Dean has never had sex with a person and said the words I love you. Not before Castiel. His relationship with Lisa was definitely full of love, but maybe it wasn't true love. They talk about it in classic books and iconic movies; there's a difference between loving someone and being completely in love with them. Was he in love with Lisa?

Dean doesn't know. He certainly cared for her and Ben, but if it wasn't for his dangerous life, would they still be together?

It seems such an irrelevant question, but it was one he asked himself often, because he had never felt such an emotion than the night he had sex with Cas. Ever.

"Dean?"

Dean looked up to find Sam staring down at the pile of broken glass.

He sighed, "I'll clean it up," Dean said, reading Sam's mind.

Sam uncertainly walked towards Dean. "Hey...are you alright?"

Dean looked over at his little brother. "Does it look like I'm alright?"

Sam didn't know what to say. This is an extremely unusual thing for Dean to say, because he always denied being sad or lonely. He always pretended he was strong, not fazed when bad things happened to him.

Realising it was such an unusual thing for him to say, Dean said, "I'm joking, I'm alright. Want a drink?"

Not only was Dean lying to himself, but he was also lying to Sam.