I don't own anything. All rights go to their rightful owners. This story may contain spoilers for the TV series 'Supernatural' post season 11. This chapter may also be graphic and contain sexual content or triggering material. I advise that sensitive readers should not read this story. I do not condone or encourage any violent or heinous acts that may occur in this chapter. Thank you for any and all views, favourites, follows and reviews.

This fanfic is a collection of various (and mostly Destiel) oneshots. Each chapter is unrelated and takes place at different times, unless stated otherwise. Enjoy!

(Set instead of 09x03, where Castiel finds Dean instead of April.)


"Fine! I'm leaving. I'll get out of your precious, long hair 'till you calm the hell down." Dean threw his hands up in frustration, pulling a rucksack over his shoulder and pocketing the Impala's keys. With constant arguments over the world's affairs and the angels falling, the elder Winchester had decided to take a short break from his brother.

Sam scowled, "Where are you going?" he responded gruffly from his laptop, which sat upon one of the Men of Letter's bunker tables.

"To find Cas." he firmly decided aloud, having previously not thought through his plan to leave the safety of his home. "He should've been back by now. Poor bastard's probably got himself lost." pushing up the bunker steps, Dean called his response and left for the road, glad that Ezekiel made no effort to protest.


This love took a burning start.


With the purr of the Impala and the roar of Kansas tunes, Dean almost didn't notice the all-too-familiar-face of a newly fallen angel. He slowed Baby as he reached the stretch of pavement that Castiel stood on, rolling down the window against the falling rain as Cas turned to face him. In the moody light of the city, whatever glimmer of Grace that remained inside the angel was long forgotten, replaced by rain sodden clothes and an expression of grim consolation.

"Dean," relief lit his features, which sagged with fatigue and hunger, rainwater clinging to unfamiliar clothes. Leaning out the car window, Dean grinned. Despite whatever anger Castiel had thought Dean harboured towards him for the fall of the angels, he felt nothing but solace to see his friend's live face.

"C'mon, get in, you'll catch a cold." with downcast blue eyes, the man obliged, slipping into the Impala's passenger seat. Dean watched as he attempted to wipe the droplets of water from his hands onto his jeans, goosebumps pricking his evidently cold skin. "You don't look so good, Cas. When was the last time you ate? You have to do that now, right; eat, sleep, drink, poop?"

"Yes, it seems so." Castiel mumbled gruffly. "Metatron - he stole my Grace. I had no idea he was going to-"

"Hey, Cas, I get it. You didn't know, alright? Here-" he interrupted, sympathy building for the fallen angel. Pulling a paper bag from beside him, Dean threw it to Castiel. "Burgers, right? You couldn't keep yourself away from them when Pestilence was in town. I figured you'd be hungry, being human 'n all." digging gratefully through the bag, Castiel grinned fondly at Dean's words.

Through a mouthful of meat, he murmured, "Thank you, Dean. I had severely underestimated my ability to keep human functions optimum."

"You've not eaten yet? The angels fell almost two weeks ago." his eyes ran over the angel's form, which had already become thinner since the last time Dean had saw him. It dawned on him that Castiel had been surviving on his own, without help or instruction, attempting to survive as a very mortal, very killable, human.

"I've frequented many homeless shelters, sometimes they offer food." he responded nonchalantly, his thoughts seemingly focused on the food within his hands. "Everything has a unique taste, most of them pleasant. It used to be just...molecules." Castiel's words trailed to a mutter as he spoke, the remembrance of his current predicament daunting. Swallowing, his lips tugged into a small smile, "But I have you now, and Sam, of course."

Running along his neck, Dean sighed, "Look, Cas, you can't stay with me and Sammy. It's best you stick on your own for now, lay low for a while 'till the angels go back skyward." sympathy tugged at his words as Castiel became saddened, averting his eyes in upset.

"Oh. Very well, Dean-" he moved to leave the Impala, though the hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Hey, c'mon, I'm not just going to leave you hangin'." Dean smiled softly, "Where you stayin' lately?"

Castiel cleared his throat, his eyes still averted, though now with embarrassment. "Uh...here and there." he divulged, "Any doorway or corner. Nowhere specific." licking his lips, the hunter thought for a moment, regretting the moment that Ezekiel had said that Castiel was to keep his distance from them.

"How about we set you up somewhere? Cheap little flat, nice part-time job? Maybe find you a chick while we're at it?" shifting the Impala into gear, Dean grinned at his idea; giving the fallen angel a sense of 'normal, human life' seemed sensible until he was no longer being hunted. "I have a couple fake IDs made up incase you ever needed them, and a little cash from our last hunt. It'll give you a head start on being human; a proper, functioning, working, boring human. What do ya say?" with a flash of teeth, he glanced to Castiel, who watched with adoration.

His smile reflected to the other man. "Thank you, Dean. I would appreciate that."


We're falling with a shot in the dark.


After many hours flicking through newspapers and advertisements, Dean had located a cheap apartment within walking distance of a decent-paying job, using his charm and Castiel's looks to convince the owner to hire the clueless mortal. The apartment consisted of a large room connected to a small corner of a kitchen, and an even smaller room for a bathroom. For the low rent, it was what the two had expected, with dull peeling walls and archaic wooden floors. It was a little shady, being mostly off the books and cash-run, but it was a given advantage for a fallen angel on the run from his own kind.

"What do you think?" Dean grinned, glancing to Castiel for a response, who stood with an unconvinced expression. "Okay, it's not perfect but you have a mattress, and look-" pulling a large cardboard box from one of the kitchen countertops, he placed it overturned in the centre of the room. "-see? Makeshift table!"

A grin slipped from Castiel's lips, partially at how ridiculous it all seemed. He was grateful for Dean's help, glad to have shelter and a head start at 'being human'.

"It's good, Dean. Thank you." he spoke, his eyes wandering around the hollow room, attempting to ignore the coldness his vessel was feeling with the approaching nightfall. "I appreciate...this." he gestured to the apartment. "You didn't have to help me."

"'course I did, Cas. We're family." Dean insisted, though untelling of his current disagreement with his brother; he wondered if would he still be helping Cas if he hadn't fought with Sam, or if he would have left the fallen angel to survive on his own for longer.

"After everything with Metatron, using my Grace for the spell-"

Laying a hand on Castiel's shoulder, Dean shook his head, "It's cool, alright? We'll find a way to get those winged dickheads back to their penthouse, and when we do, you can come live at the bunker with me and Sammy." a smile dangled gently from his lips, though deep concern lay behind it, "Just...lay low for now, alright? Eat, sleep, watch some porn."

"I will. Though maybe not the porn..." he muttered, his eyes averted at the thought; the last time Cas had viewed porn, it had a bemusing effect on his vessel, one which he didn't know how to react to. With the basic knowledge he had on human sexual intercourse and reproduction, Castiel had silently considered the experience many a times.

"Are you telling me you're still a virgin? Christ, Cas, you're human now. Go crazy, find some chicks, get laid." Dean chuckled teasingly, releasing his grip on the human. Castiel, through his shame, furrowed his eyebrows questioningly.

"Must it be a 'chick'? Does it not count with men, also?" he wondered aloud. The hunter raised an eyebrow.

Dean responded with curiosity, uncertain of the answer that Castiel was seeking, "Well, I guess it does. Why, you gay or somethin'?"

"I'm a celestial being, I-" for a moment, the angel lived in a wonderful moment of forgetfulness, where he was an angel that was indifferent to sexual orientation, but that moment was halted with Dean's sympathetic glance, the brash and cruel reminder that this angel had fallen now filling his mind. "I'm not a homosexual. I don't think so." his tone was light, with indifference behind it.

"Oh." Dean nodded, "Well, it's cool if you are, or if you're not. Whatever." he mumbled awkwardly, finding a sudden brief interest in the floorboards. "Well," he declared finally, turning to leave, "You should probably rest up. I'm gonna head out, find a motel or somethin'. Dark will be soon, and we both know what the dark brings." Dean joked lightly, a forced grin on his face.

Castiel frowned, "You're not returning to Sam?"

"I'm on a case." came the automatic response, his lie seemingly obvious to the man as he gave an expression of disbelief. Sighing, Dean admitted stubbornly, "We had a fight, alright? I said I needed some time...so, I thought I'd checkup on the newly-human angel of Thursday."

"You're welcome to stay here, until you and Sam start talking again, if you wanted to." Castiel offers, his eyes searching for something in Dean's. He wasn't sure what.

Briefly considering sleeping in a dark and cold motel alone, or the Impala with her weapon and file covered backseat, Dean nodded. "Yeah, sure. One night couldn't hurt."


I'll love you 'till the days end.


Autumn brought a colder and darker night than the many months before, the small crumbling apartment that Castiel kept unhelpful to the harsh temperatures his vessel felt. On the floor lay a large mattress, one that Dean had been able to buy with the money stuffed away in the Impala's crevices, with the fallen angel curled into one side and the sorrowful hunter spread on the other. Both men lay awake, unknowing of the other's consciousness, reflecting upon their own tragedies and considering the few options they had remaining.

Moving to lay on his back, Castiel stared up at the cracking ceiling, calling Dean's name softly in the darkness, the only light a streetlamp outside the windows draped with fraying cloth. Dean groaned a response.

"Yeah, Cas?"

Fatigue was evident in both voices, deep and rough from the world's burdens, "I didn't intend to wake you."

"You didn't." propping himself on his elbows, Dean's rubbed a hand wearily over his face, "What's up, Cas?"

"I can't sleep." he admitted, his eyes tracing over the shadows and reflections on the walls. "Sleeping is more difficult than I thought. You make it look easy."

"Yeah, well, being human isn't just tacos and women." the hunter spoke with the intention of a joke, though his voice revealed a troubled dismay behind it. "Sometimes," he began, explaining empathetically, "Humans can't sleep because there's something on their mind. Anything like that might be buggin' you?"

Castiel spoke bluntly, "Yes." pulling a sigh from Dean, he knew it was useless playing Dr. Phil with an angel, collapsing heavily back onto the mattress.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Twisting onto his side, the brunette faced him with desperation in his bright eyes, "What is there to talk about, Dean? Heaven is- and my brothers..."

"Huh. Screw 'em, Cas." he interrupted sharply, green eyes meeting with blue. Pressing a hand to his shoulder, his lips tugged into a small smile of reassurance, "Look, we'll figure something out in the morning. Heaven, Hell...they're not our problem right now. We just- I gotta keep you safe, for now, and that's all you gotta worry 'bout."

With a gentle smile of adoration, Cas murmured softly, his eyebrows furrowed with the perplexing thought of his safety, "Dean..."

And maybe it was the fatigue, or maybe it was the brewing human emotions of affection in his abdomen, but Castiel leaned into the hunter and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"Cas," his name seemed desperate on Dean's tongue, his voice tight with fervour. For a moment, they breathed the same warm air, eyebrows raised in question and minds careless with want. Within a second kiss, longer and deeper than before, Dean moved to straddle the man. "Cas, tell me you want this." he breathed shakily.

"What?" came Castiel's subconscious confusion, the warmth of Dean's lips numbing his thoughts.

His voice was desperate, breathy with a vulnerability he never let slip, "Tell me you want this, too."

"Of course, Dean." the words barely left Castiel's mouth before Dean was softly pulling at them, his hands grasping Cas' face tenderly, his tongue trailing over warm flesh and eliciting sinful gasps from the fallen angel.

With a gently burning passion, the hunter showed the angel how being human wasn't entirely full of suffering and pain, a lesson in which he carried with fondness and love, the burdens of Heaven and Hell unable to match its intimacy.


My love, let us know no end.