I decided to post my original story, which is the slash version. This was my first chapter fic. Takes place somewhere in the 4th season of Supernatural. Rated T except for one chapter later on. This is a complete story, will finish uploading all the chapters shortly.

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"Hey Dean," Sam said, looking up from a newspaper. "I think I may have found our next job, take a look." Sam folded the paper and shoved it in Dean's direction.

"Dean!" Sam said. "Are you paying attention?'

"Huh? What?" Sam noticed that Dean's far-away look finally settled on him, and then on the newspaper.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Sam asked more softly, with some caution in his voice. Ever since Dean started opening up about hell, Sam never knew whether Dean was going to go full force like a geyser at Yellowstone or clam up like his don't-give-me-a-chick-flick-moment self.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Sammy," Dean said, but his voice was strained, and Sam was inclined to worry, but knew Dean would not open up unless he chose to do so. On his own. Sam's successful attempts to have heart-to-hearts with Dean by Sam's prompting were as barren as an outside seating Dairy-Queen in the depths of winter.

Dean took the paper and Sam started filling him in before he could read. "In Benkowski, Illinois, a teenage girl was murdered and partially dismembered on April 9, two weeks ago. Some of those body parts still haven't been found yet. I did some poking around and found out she had a LiveJournal account, and had written about how while babysitting for a new family in town, she was warned not to look in or touch some jars in the refrigerator-"

"What? She couldn't touch the pickles? Or the mayonnaise? What the hell kind of babysitting job is that?"

"Dean-"

"And what is a 'LiveJournal'?"

"It's an online blog."

"What is a blog?"

"It's an online journal, Dean. Like having a diary online. Anyway,-"

"People have a diary online?" his nose wrinkled in disgust. "Sounds kinda kinky to me. Do people get their jollies off by having other people read their personal, porny lives?"

"Only in your universe is everything about porn, Dean. Will you listen to me? I am trying to tell you something."

"Alright."

"Okay, so Angela, that's the girl that was murdered, she wrote that the jars were big, like abnormally big, and were covered in brown butcher-type paper in the back of the fridge. She didn't have the nerve to look the first time, but said she planned to at least rip some of that paper back the next time she babysat. She said that was going to be the coming Friday night. That turned out to be the night she died, Dean."

"And then this," Sam said, pointing to the newspaper article. "A month before Angela was ripped to pieces, another teenage girl two states over died, also mutilated, and on the list of her life story printed in the paper was that she had just started babysitting. For a new family that just happened to disappear the day after she was murdered. It mentions they were going to ask the family for their reflections on their dearly departed new babysitter, but the house was suddenly empty."

"Didn't the police think that was weird?" Dean asked.

"Yeah the article mentioned that was part of the investigation but they had no leads."

"Well, that's really weird and creepy alright, but I'm not sure what it has to do with us," Dean said.

"That's the thing, I couldn't put my finger on it, and there was nothing in Dad's journal, but I emailed Bobby and he emailed me back, saying he had a little something in his own journal that sounded similar."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Bobby said he had an entry from years ago, saying that there was an elaborate ritual, a really dark one, that Bobby caught wind of and part of that ritual was to have human body parts, certain parts, kept cold and not exposed to light for a week, but not freeze them either."

Dean's nose was wrinkling again. "Does it say which body parts were missing from the girls?"

"It does. On both girls, the left hand, the left ear, and the left foot and lower left leg, attached. The right arm and leg were also chopped off in both cases, but were lying near the torso, so are not missing."

"So let me guess," Dean said, "Bobby's journal said those parts, those left-side parts, were part of the ritual?

"Exactly. To a T. So I think we better head out there, the crack of dawn."

"Okay." Dean scratched his head as he stood up. "I'm gonna take a shower and hit the hay. See you."

Dean felt filthy as he walked towards the bathroom. Not just from the sweat he'd accumulated from the job they finished earlier that morning, but from his own wandering thoughts. Today no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts kept wandering back to Castiel.

How Castiel went through the trouble of lifting some of the pain from his heart and his soul. How Castiel kept showing up to see him. And more so, how Castiel looked at Dean with a burning fire in his eyes, every frickin time he showed up.

That's the image that Dean truly couldn't break out of his mind. Castiel peered deep into Dean's soul with those eyes, like nobody ever had before, and somehow had created a bond between them that ran inside Dean like a silent, invisible electric current, which he was becoming more and more aware of.

Dean felt guilty as hell for these thoughts. He shouldn't be thinking like this for an angel of the Lord. Who happens to reside in a man's body no less.

Dean stripped down after relieving his bladder and stepped into the shower. Wishing the hot water could wash his mind, not just his skin. He grabbed the tiny motel bar of soap and started to lather his arm. Shit. He should have remembered that every time he was in the shower, he saw THAT. That thing on his arm. Every time he soaped it up, he lingered on it with his fingers, feeling every mountain and valley of it. He thought about what it meant. Castiel left his mark on him for LIFE. This was never going away, ever. It was a constant reminder of their bond.

And this was what pissed Dean off about himself. He didn't WANT it to go away, ever. He valued it. He valued the way it made him feel to see it there, every day. At the same time though, he wanted these feelings to stop. He gritted his teeth and willed himself to finish the shower and get out of there. Just get clean and move on with life.

A squeaky clean Dean 10 minutes later, he moved the shower curtain aside, and stepped out before he realized Castiel was in the room, trench coat and all, barely 2 feet away in that small bathroom.

"Holy Shit!" Dean cried, reaching for his towel. He couldn't help but notice that Castiel's eyes were wandering down the length of Dean's body before he could cover himself up.

"What are you doing here! Can't you wait a couple minutes and let a man dress before you show up?"

"We need to talk, Dean," Castiel stated plainly.

"I can see that! But sheesh, haven't they taught you any manners in angel school?"

Castiel cocked his head to the side just slightly, with that quizzical look in his eyes that Dean was getting used to.

"I apologize. I didn't realize it would embarrass you for another man to see you naked." Shit, Dean thought. Caught red handed. "Of, of course not. It's just not polite to barge on people when they're naked is all." Oh God, Castiel has seen me NAKED.

"Please do not be embarrassed Dean. The human body is not quite to an angel what it is to a human being. Although I must say your body is rather aesthetic, not only by human standards, but to an angel's eye as well."

"Huh?"

"There is nothing wrong with your body. Not even close. Please do not be ashamed, I am only here as a messenger. I need to tell you to..."

Dean barely heard him; he was trying so hard not to turn red in the face. He knew what aesthetic meant, he had been playing dumb. Besides, he was shocked, he still couldn't believe what he had heard. It means he DIGS me. He was also hoping Castiel didn't have x-ray vision and couldn't see what was happening behind his towel.

Then Castiel was gone. Dean didn't know if he was more relieved, or disappointed.