Unknown Reason

by kandisi

After Castiel's death, Dean is so consumed with guilt that he hires a shapeshifting prostitute to impersonate Castiel in the bedroom. However... Castiel is alive and Jack has special plans for him and the Winchesters... Dean/Cass, Sam/Cass, Dean/Sam/Cass. Warnings for language and lots of smut.

1. Chapter 1

Title: Unknown Reason

Summary: After Castiel's death, Dean is so consumed with guilt that he hires a shapeshifting prostitute to impersonate Castiel in the bedroom. However... Castiel is alive and Jack has special plans for him and the Winchesters... Dean/Cass, Sam/Cass, Dean/Sam/Cass. Warnings for language and lots of smut.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline, Max Baines, Alicia Baines, Walt, Aiden, Tim Janklow, Reggie Hull

Parings: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Castiel, Sam/Dean/Castiel, Dean/shapeshifter!Castiel, a tad of Lucifer/Castiel

Warnings: Language, lots and lots of sex, alcohol usage, some violence, minor spoilers for SPN season 13, evil!Jack, threesomes

A/N: It took me over a month to finish this. It turned out a lot longer than I meant for it to... still I hope that anyone who has the time to read all of this will enjoy it. X) No flames, please!

Jack is kind of evil in this, but since I started this fic before season 13 of SPN began, I had no idea he was going to be one of the good guys.

Also, sorry to those who prefer "Cas" to "Cass" (Including myself, lol). But, my grandmother's very hard of hearing and I noticed they say "Cass" in the subtitles. -shrugs-

And if this fanfic somehow inspires any fanart, I'd love to see it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural in any way, shape or form. (Unfortunately, lol)

Unknown Reason

000

The blade went through his chest.

Lucifer smiled. "That was fun!"

"No!" Dean screamed out.

"I love you," Mary said, before she began beating Lucifer with a pair of angel-warded brass knuckles.

They went through the rip in space and time, and then—just like that—the rip closed.

Shortly thereafter, Dean Winchester looked up as if he were asking—begging—God to help... and then he fell to his knees, staring downwards at his best-friend's lifeless body...

Sam Winchester ran away, leaving Dean there all alone...

Dean knew he needed to get up, go with Sam to check on Lucifer's unholy child, but... he couldn't move. No, he was frozen.

And Castiel was dead.

Castiel.. was.. dead..

And as for Dean's mother, Mary Winchester, well... if she wasn't dead, she surely would be soon... Yet another one of the many casualties of the Devil himself.

Dean's eyes began to burn white hot with unshed tears.

"I love you," Castiel said to Dean after he had been stabbed with the Lance of Michael. "I love you all..."

"Castiel's long gone, because of you..."

Dean lifted the sheet from Castiel's lifeless body, taking one final look at the—his—angel, before he ripped the curtains from the wall and began to wrap Castiel's body up, give him a proper hunter's funeral.

"Goodbye, Cass..." He threw the lighter.

The angel blade went through his chest again.

Dean kept seeing it over and over again, playing out in his mind like some sort of demented, broken record.

"No!" Dean shouted, and then bolted upright in his bed.

Sam ran into the room from next door.

"Dean," Sam said, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder once he had gotten close enough to him. "Are you alright?"

Dean forced a sarcastic laugh. "Of course I am," he replied, sarcastic still. "I mean, Castiel's dead and our mom might as well be, but apart from that, I feel fantastic."

Sam sighed out the words, "I have the nightmares, too, Dean," before he went on to say, "But we can't let our feelings get in the way of finding Jack. He just... took off..."

"Yeah, that's right," Dean said, rubbing at his forehead. "As if Lucifer Jr. wasn't bad enough, they had to go and give it an actual name."

"Your nightmares aren't about Jack, though, are they?"

Dean smirked at him. "Do you really have to ask?"

"Look," Sam began. "I miss him, too... so you're not alone in this."

"I don't want to talk about him," Dean said swiftly and without thought. "What I'd like is a drink."

"Dean," Sam replied, sounding none too thrilled, "It's after midnight. You can't actually be serious about leaving the bunker in the middle of the night to get drunk, a-gain?"

"I'm dead serious."

"What is it you do every night? I mean, after the bars close? You never get back until just before sunrise..."

"I'm having sex," Dean blurted out. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Fine, Dean," Sam sighed as he looked into his brother's green eyes. "Go get drunk, have sex with strangers, and then come back and pray to Chuck—God—some more to bring back Cass."

"I hate God," Dean said sternly. "I mean, angels don't have souls, so what happens when they die? They just 'wink out' and that's it? I'll never get to see the real Cass ever again, even in Heaven?"

"Dean," Sam remarked silently, "I think you're still a little drunk..."

"Buzzed, Sam. Not drunk."

"I still don't think you should be driving..."

"Well that's too damn bad for you," Dean said with a smirk. "I'm leaving."

"I'm going with you, then." Sam smirked likewise.

"No," Dean said, standing from the bed, "You're not. I have an... 'appointment'..."

Sam shook his head. "You mean with another stripper?"

"Sort of." Dean shrugged. "Anyway," he said, earnestly, "Unless you want to watch me having sex in my baby, you may want to stay here."

Sam held up both of his hands in a 'stop right there' motion. "No, thank you."

Dean was lying, but there was no way he could let Sam know what he was really up to... Sam would think he was insane. Hell, Dean thought that he himself was insane for even considering that which was on his mind.

"Well," Dean began as he rose from his seat on the bed, "I've got to be going, now."

Sam exhaled a long sigh. "Sure, Dean," he said with ultimate disapproval. "At least tell me where it is you're going..."

Dean shrugged. "You know," he said gruffly, "that new bar in the next town over that's just for hunters."

"Well," Sam sighed a contented sigh. "At least I know you'll be a little bit safer in knowing you'll be in a place that specifically caters to hunters."

"Yeah... I guess so, Sammy... Trust me; you've got nothing to worry about..."

000

"Yeah, Sammy's got nothing to worry about, and neither do I..."

Dean made way to park in the strip club's overcrowded parking lot.

He knew why most hunters came here, and it wasn't exactly for the topless chicks...

Had Dean slept with any of them? Yes, he had (free of charge)... but tonight was going to be different. Yes, tonight was the night where he would get to do what he really wanted.

Who he really wanted.

A set of double doors opened as he walked into the club.

It was dark and dreary and smelt of liquor, cigarette smoke and stale cigars, and there were flashing lights all around him.

Dean took a seat at a booth nearest to the main stage.

"Hey, Dean," one of the waitresses said to him. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Just whiskey, straight up."

She winked at him. "Coming right up."

While waiting for his drink to arrive, Dean focused on the stripper in front of him and listened intently to the music.

Every sentence you say, and every desperate attempt to draw attention hides a lie... Diseased, pathologically inflamed shaped by your sophisticated eloquence. You vehemently assert your devious views which reign over your smallness. A champion at mystification and treachery...

I don't understand how you can still do this to someone you call a loyal friend... is it possible to listen to someone who hears no one but himself?

Dean watched as the stripper danced. It was none other than Kim Kardashian, only, not her at the same time...

Why compromise and trust someone who's betrayed you countless times? I'm not gonna watch the same game over and over again. I'm not like them, here's the money for your patch work.

You can't overpower me, and this is not a trademark to camouflage your indolence. How do you want take command without knowledge, morality, logic and rules? Just useless words and waste of time, still the same old business while things change...

Dean's whiskey arrived. He nodded his thanks to the waitress, and then brought the drink to his lips, taking a rather large initial swallow of the alcoholic drink.

"So," began the waitress. "Are you having a good night tonight so far, Dean?"

"No," Dean replied honestly. "I get sick of seeing the shifters posing as the same women night after night, you know?"

"If you have a request," the waitress said, "I can put in one for you. As you know the price is a bit steep, though. One-hundred dollars."

"Yeah, I know," Dean answered, taking another sip from the crystal glass in his right hand. "I don't want to make my 'fantasies' public, though. There's, yeah... too many people that I know here... I was hoping for something on more of a... 'personal' basis, if you know what I mean."

"Personal, huh?" the waitress said with a chuckle. "No worries. We get 'personal' requests all of the time, hint hint."

"Just get someone—anyone—who thinks they can help me out."

The waitress cocked her head to the side. "I don't know. I mean—you are Dean Winchester—so that would make most of the shifters here a little uneasy."

"Look," Dean began firmly. "I'm not looking to make a kill. Not tonight, anyway. I'll also pay whatever they're asking for. Money is no object, it means nothing to me."

The waitress raised an eyebrow at him. "Any type in particular you're looking for?"

Dean chugged the remaining whiskey from the glass he was holding and then slammed its base against the tabletop. "Someone without much experience."

The waitress laughed out loud. "You mean like a virgin...?"

Dean nodded at her. "Well, yeah, I guess..."

The waitress laughed all over again. "Um, sorry, Mr. Winchester, but you'll be hard-pressed to find any virgins here."

"I know that," Dean muttered, his face flushed a slight shade of red from embarrassment. "I just mean whoever it is who has the least amount of experience in the sack."

"Well, there is—"

Swiftly, Dean replied, "Don't want to know their name, don't care to know their name."

"I'll send her over," the waitress responded. "Meanwhile, would you like another drink?"

Dean nodded. "Did you really have to ask me that?"

The waitress chuckled at him, collected Dean's empty drink, and then walked away.

I don't understand how you can still do this… to someone you call a loyal friend… is it possible to listen to someone who hears no one but himself…

I don't understand how you can still do this... to someone you call a loyal friend, is it possible to listen to someone who hears no one but himself...

Go go fuck yourself, I don't know the answer to your question, why why why?

Go go go fuck yourself I don't know the answer to your question, why why why?

Go go fuck yourself I don't know the answer to the question, why why why?

Go go fuck yourself. Go go fuck yourself. Go go fuck yourself. Go go fuck yourself. Go go fuck yourself. Go go fuck yourself. Go go fuck yourself. Go go fuck yourself.

"Go, go, fuck yourself," Dean sang along absentmindedly. This song was like all songs, now. Every song he listened to—no matter what the context—reminded him of his fallen angel, Castiel...

"Thank you," he said to the waitress as she set down another glass of whiskey on the table. Shortly thereafter, 'Melania Trump' sat down next to him.

Dean couldn't help it, and fell into a fit of laughter. "You've gotta be kidding me, right?"

"Dean Winchester," the shifter said in a boastful manner. "So, tell me... what can I do for you?"

"How old are you?" he asked her. "I mean, how old really?"

"Oh I'm old enough."

Dean smirked. "Seriously. I'm not getting into bed with some fifteen year old."

The shifter smiled at him. "Maybe I'm fifty... would that bother you?"

"Uh, yeah," Dean replied, and then took another drink of whiskey.

"Lucky for you I'm 19."

"Still a little young, but yeah, I guess you'll do..."

She inched her way closer to Dean in the booth. "Buy me a drink?"

"Fine." Dean nodded, before he then gestured back to the waitress.

"Yes?" the waitress asked him.

"Bring me a... a..." He turned his head. "What would you like?"

"Grey Goose and tonic."

Dean couldn't help but smile. Castiel had liked vodka...

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I found the liquor store."

"And?"

"And I drank it!"

"So..." 'Melania Trump' continued. "What's your pleasure? Angelina Jolie? Lady

Ga Ga? Gwyneth Paltrow? Cameron Diaz?"

Dean shook his head. He looked left, then right, just to make sure no one had a close eye on him.

He reached into his pocket, and removed a photograph...

"It's..." Dean began, not knowing how the hell he was going to sound. "...this guy, right here..."

Melania took the photograph from Dean's hand and studied it.

"He's very cute."

"Yeah," Dean whispered, knocking back the rest of his drink. "I'll pay you a grand if you can just... well, impersonate him for me, for a while..."

Melania chuckled at him. "You mean all of that money, for no sex?"

Dean shook his head. "No, I... I want sex."

"Well," Melania continued, earnestly, "It's going to cost you three grand, and we're on. I'm generally not into shapeshifting into men..."

"Fine, three grand," Dean replied, before two more drinks arrived at the table.

"Would you like me to shift into him right now?" Melania asked Dean. "I can give you a free lap dance as your secret lover if you want..."

"No," Dean said quickly. "There's too many hunters here who know me. I don't want them to get the impression that I'm... I'm..."

"Gay?" Melania finished for him.

Dean frowned at her. "I'm not gay, okay? I just... want Cass back... When he died, he never knew how much I loved him... He died thinking he didn't matter to me... He died without knowing how much I cared for him... How much I... I really loved him."

Melania nodded. "I've heard of Castiel. Team Free Will, right? He helped save us from the apocalypse."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Not that there's enough of us left anymore to call us a real team. With Cass dead, that only leaves me and Sam."

Melania placed a hand on Dean's thigh, under the table as she began to caress him.

"Stop it," Dean hissed, knocking the shifter's hand away.

"Well," the shifter replied, "that's not one I hear every day." She finished the rest of her drink and smiled at Dean. "So... you wanna go somewhere?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "I rented a hotel room a couple miles over."

"A hotel room?" She chuckled. "Why not some seedy motel where you took the other girls?"

Quickly, Dean said, "Because I would never take Cass to some seedy motel."

"I see," she replied shortly before lighting a Capri Menthol cigarette.

Dean frowned and snatched the cigarette out of her hand. "Cass would never smoke." He put the lit cigarette out in the crystal ashtray that was on the booth's table.

"Fine," the girl said with a huff.

"Are you ready to go now?"

'Melania' nodded. "I'm ready if you are," she said, looking Dean in the eyes. "I require cash up front, though."

Dean looked left, then right, hoping—praying—that no one at the club would see Dean Winchester paying off a shapeshifting prostitute. With this in mind, he got out his wallet and handed her the cash under the table.

"Now we're in business," the shifter said as she counted the money. "Shall we go? I mean, after I shapeshift into my natural self. I don't know how it would look if you walked into a hotel with Melania Trump."

"Yeah, that's fine," Dean replied nonchalantly, standing from his seat. "I'll be in the 67' Impala out in the parking lot.

Then without looking back, he walked out the set of double doors. Hopefully nobody had recognized him, although he had seen at least three hunters in the club that he had recognized... One of them had been with 'Katy Perry', receiving a lap dance... Not to mention Max Banes and Brad Pitt... Max seemed really messed-up, from what Dean could tell, but he didn't bother to ask him what was up, and was even happier that Max hadn't spotted him in the club.

He opened the door to his Impala, and sat down in the driver's seat.

He turned on the radio.

Hold me baby, drive me crazy, touch me... all night long. Make me love you, kiss and hug you, touch me... all night long.

And again Dean thought of Castiel.

Dean finally opted to turn the radio off.

For a while, he just sat in his vehicle... silent and alone. He couldn't believe he was actually going through with this.

He was insane... that much was sure...

Dean looked up. "Cass," he whispered silently. "If there's any way you can hear me up there, I just... wanted you to know how sorry I am... For... everything..."

The passenger's side door opened before a young woman got inside of the Impala.

Dark brown hair, medium skin tone, blue eyes...

Momentarily, she made Dean wonder if this is what Castiel would look like had he been a girl.

Dean started his car, and exited the strip club's parking lot. He was on his way to the Holiday Inn.

"You don't talk much, do you?" the young woman asked him.

"Actually, I do," Dean replied in a serious voice. "I just don't get any pleasure out of socializing with a damn monster."

"Hey," the shifter smirked, "You're the one who hired me, remember? You haven't even asked me my name."

"I don't want to know your name," Dean said justly, both eyes on the dark road ahead of him. "I don't want this to be any more personal than it has to be."

They arrived at the Holiday Inn.

"So," the young shifter said slowly, "Did you get a nice room?"

Dean shrugged. "I think most of them are all the same, for the most part."

He parked his Impala in the closest spot to the hotel that he could find, turning off the ignition thereafter. He got out of the car and then slammed the door shut.

"You're such a gentleman," the young women said sarcastically. "Thanks for getting the door for me."

"Yeah, well, you'll live." Dean began walking in the hotel's general direction, the young shifter following close behind.

Upon reaching the entrance to the hotel, a set of glass, double doors parted while Dean entered the somewhat lavish building.

He approached the front desk.

"Reservation for Dean Stanton?"

The man behind the desk got onto his computer, looking up Dean's account.

"Yes," the middle-aged man said, and then handed Dean a keycard. Dean then turned his head to look at the shifter. "Well, let's go."

They entered an elevator. Dean pressed the number three as his room was on the third floor, though he seemed just a bit... nervous. He began to have second thoughts on the matter of hiring some random, shapeshifting prostitute to impersonate Castiel...

"You seem a little... anxious," the young shifter stated.

Dean shook his head ever so slightly. "I'm not nervous, I'm just, you know... I've never done anything like this before. Not to mention I'm generally not accustomed to paying for sex..."

"I can see why." She chuckled. "You're fine as hell."

"Thanks," Dean muttered, walking down the hallway until he had reached his room. He slipped his keycard into the slot above the door's handle, and then opened the door, stepping inside.

"I'll go into the bathroom and change into something... a little more comfortable for you..."

Dean sat down on the king-sized bed and opened a bottle of Jack, which he had left in the hotel room earlier for this very occasion.

"I'll need a photograph," the shifter said. "It would help if you had some kind of DNA to work with, too."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, taking a chug from the bottle. "I... sorta kept a lock of his hair..."

"So you were already planning this the day he died?"

"Enough with the twenty questions," Dean said peevishly. From the nightstand, he then removed a copy of the bible... and inside of it was a lock of Castiel's hair...

He handed it to the shifter, along with a photograph of the angel.

"Great," the young shifter replied. "I'll go 'change' in the bathroom and then I'll be right out."

"One more thing," Dean added, before he picked up a bag from the floor. "I want you to... wear these."

The shifter accepted the bag from Dean, taking a look inside. There was a striped, blue tie, a white, button down shirt, black pants, black shoes, and a light brown trench coat.

"Kinky," the woman said to him, taking the bag with her into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

While he was waiting, Dean continued to drink from the bottle of Jack Daniels, contemplating the never-ending insanity that was his life.

He had lost everything; everyone. It was as though anyone who was even remotely connected to his life was marked for automatic death.

Dean continued to drink. "Hey," he called out. "Are you about ready yet?"

The bathroom door opened.

"Oh my God," Dean whispered with disbelief.

The shifter looked identical to Castiel.

"Well," the shifter said in Castiel's voice. "Is this what you wanted?"

Dean nodded, his eyes still wide with shock.

The shifter crawled onto the bed, next to Dean. "I've never done this before. I mean, I've never shifted into a guy to have sex as one, so be gentle with me..."

"You look and sound just like him," Dean stated earnestly, caressing the side of the shifter's face with the back of his hand. Then, he pulled the shifter into a kiss...

"Cass," Dean whispered into the kiss. "Oh, Cass... I'm so sorry," he said between kisses. "It's my fault—all my fault—that you died... I led Lucifer straight to you... If only I had trusted you enough to handle the situation on your own, you would still be alive..."

"I'm sure he'd forgive you," the shifter whispered against Dean's full lips.

"This may sound weird, but," Dean shrugged, "You kiss with too much experience. Cass really didn't have all that much."

"Was he a virgin or something?"

"He had sex one time, but it was with a woman while he was temporarily human."

"Only once?" the shifter chuckled. "I feel sorry for him."

Dean breathed out the words, "Take off your clothes."

The shifter smiled as Castiel. "Wouldn't you rather do the honors?"

"Fine," Dead said, grabbing hold of the trench coat and pulling it down and off of the shifter. Then he went to work on the shifter's tie; pulling it off before he literally ripped open the young shifter's shirt while the shirt's white buttons scattered all about the bed and floor.

Dean took off his green coat and then pulled the white shirt over his own head. Then he went to work on his blue jeans, unbuttoning them before he unzipped them thereafter.

The shifter was on its back, shirt ripped open and a lustful look in both eyes.

Dean went to work on the shifter's pants, pulling them down and off. He looked into the shifter's eyes, which sparkled in the light like sapphires. Castiel had borne the bluest eyes he had ever seen...

Dean removed his jeans, kicking them off fully before he got on top of the shifter.

"Cass," Dean whispered, stroking the side of the shifter's face with one hand, before he went in for another kiss. He grabbed the shifter down below, moving his hand back and forth as he stoked the shifter off.

"Oh," the shifter moaned out. "That feels... really good."

Dean stopped what he was doing, sitting up on his knees before he crawled his way to the adjacent nightstand. He opened the top drawer, briefly eyeing the copy of the bible and then removing what appeared to be a small tube of lubricant.

"Remember," the shifter whispered to Dean. "Gentle."

"I guess this is why Beth recommended you to me." Dean sighed. "I'll try to be gentle, though I'm more into moderately rough sex."

Dean removed the tube of lubricant and shut the nightstand drawer. Then he took a look at the shifter's almost-naked form. It looked like Castiel, it sounded like Castiel... hell, it even spoke like Castiel to a certain degree, but...

It wasn't.

No, Castiel was dead.

Castiel was fucking dead.

And it was all Dean's fault.

If only he had trusted Castiel with his mission...

Instead, he had led Lucifer straight to him.

Dean suddenly found himself becoming very, very angry.

"Spread your legs," Dean ordered. "And I want you to act confused, like you don't understand what's happening while I have sex with you."

The shifter gave a slight nod in response and then did as it, well 'he', had been told.

Dean applied a gracious amount of lubricant to the fingers of his right-hand, and then...

"Oh Dean," the shifter moaned as Dean continued to work his fingers.

"Tell me that it wasn't my fault," Dean said sternly while continuing to finger fuck the beautiful form beneath him. "Tell me you want me. Tell me you love me..."

"It wasn't your fault," the shifter moaned out. "Lucifer killed me, not you... I-I want you, Dean Winchester. I love you..."

Dean withdrew his fingers, and then applied some of the lubricant to his hardness. Seeing Castiel naked and full of passion, of lust... it was enough to make any man hard—gay or straight.

Dean however kept telling himself that he was not gay. Castiel was the one and only man he had ever thought of in this way. It was all Cass's fault. If only he hadn't been so damn beautiful...

He took his hardness into hand and aligned it in between the young shifter's cheeks, slowly pushing inside of him while the shifter emitted a very loud moan.

"Cass," Dean moaned likewise, "Oh Cass... I miss you so much... I love you so much..."

"Dean," the shifter whispered, looking into the emerald depths of Dean's eyes.

The blade went through his chest.

Lucifer smiled. "That was fun!"

"No!"Dean screamed out.

"No!" Dean shouted, and then began to move all the faster, thrusting in and out of the figure beneath him.

"That's—that's a little too rough," the shifter posing as Castiel stated.

"Good," Dean hissed, grabbing the shifter from the back of his knees before pushing them down against his chest. "You left me," Dean continued, despondently, "You left me all alone. You said you would never leave me! You said you would always come when I called! But you didn't—not last time. No, you decided you were going to save the world all by yourself!"

"D-Dean," the shifter replied. "You are hurting me."

"Good," Dean said again. "It would be a first for Cass, too."

The shifter tried to push Dean off of him, but Dean was just too strong.

Dean leaned down over the shifter, kissing its full lips. Castiel's lips. Then he began kissing a trail down the shifter's neck, sucking the skin into his mouth. Meanwhile, he took the shifter's hardness back into his right-hand and began to stroke him off again.

"Tell me you love me," Dean repeated quietly. "Tell me."

"I love you Dean! Oh God, I love you!"

"I love you too, Cass," Dean whispered against the shifter's lips. He felt his climax fast approaching, and for a moment—a sliver of time—it was as though he was with the real Castiel.

"Oh Cass..." Dean moaned into the kiss. "Cass... Cass... Cass...!"

He came into the shifter's ass, thrusting through the aftershocks.

"Please, Dean," the shifter begged him. "I'm not finished yet."

Dean sighed and nodded. He would never leave a woman hanging like that...

He continued to stroke the shifter off, watching Castiel's beautiful form moaning on the bed. It was enough to make Dean want to fuck him all over again.

"I want you to say you love me when you come," Dean said to the shifter as he continued to stroke him off.

"Dean... Dean, I... I love you!"

Dean felt as his hand was filled with warm, sticky semen and felt disgusted with himself all over again. Was he that desperate...? Or just that in love...?

"Wow," the shifter said from the bed, "that was incredible. I mean, I still prefer having sex as a woman, but you are definitely worth the extra effort."

"Yeah whatever," Dean muttered, standing from the bed before he made way to enter the bathroom. He turned the sink on and washed his hands with soap and warm water, and then gathered a white towel from the towel rack and used it to dry both of his hands off.

"I need to use the restroom so I can change back into myself."

"Whatever," Dean said again.

"Or," the shifter began. "I could keep this vessel on... I'm sure there's a lot of guys at the club who would get off to such a beautiful angel."

"No," Dean replied sternly. "That is out of the question. I want that to be something... yeah, just for me."

The shifter stood from the bed, the torn white shirt still on his body. He took it off, leaving the shifter completely naked. He approached Dean from behind, running a hand down the line of his back.

"I really am sorry for your loss," the shifter said in Castiel's voice.

Dean turned around.

"Personal space, Cass. Personal space."

Dean leaned down and kissed the shifter again, using more tongue than he had any of the previous times. "Same time tomorrow," he whispered against the shifter's lips.

"Can you afford it?"

"Yes." Dean nodded. "I can."

"Alright," the shifter remarked. "I'll be here at around two AM."

"Good," Dean said before rinsing his mouth out with spearmint flavored Listerine. "You can go now."

"I need to use the bathroom first, Dean," the shifter said, content. "My 'other' clothes are in there."

"Alright," Dean said simply, exiting the bathroom so he could put his own clothes back on. He found his boxer shorts on the hotel floor, pulling them up before putting his blue jeans back on.

When the bathroom door opened, the 19 year old girl whom Dean had seen earlier in the night exited wearing a short black dress and her dark hair in a ponytail.

"Do you need a ride back?" Dean asked her.

She shook her head. "No, that's alright. I'll just catch a cab."

Dean couldn't help it, and blurted out the words, "I'll pay you five grand tomorrow if you'll blow me and then have rough, hard sex."

"Mmm." She thought about it. "Alright. You still want me in 'Castiel's' vessel?"

Dean nodded his head. "Yes."

"Okay." The shifter headed for the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Alright." Dean nodded again. The door opened, and the shifter exited the room.

Dean wanted to take a shower, but first, he needed to check his phone. Surely Sam had called him a least a dozen times...

He took the phone off of silent mode, and then checked the caller I.D.

Surely enough, Sam had called four times.

Dean rolled his green eyes and brought the cellphone to his right-ear.

Ring.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Pick up.

"Dean?"

"Yeah Sammy. What's up?"

"It's after four in the morning. That's what's up."

"I'm 38 years old, Sam. I think I can handle myself."

Sam frowned into the phone. "I went to check out that 'club' of yours, and I know now what's going on there."

Shit, Dean thought, although he had to admit to himself that his brother would have found out sooner or later.

Sam forced a sarcastic laugh. "So... I hear you left with 'Melania Trump'?

"That's none of your business," Dean answered swiftly. "C'mon, don't tell me you wouldn't get it on with a shapeshifter who could impersonate the girl of your dreams."

"I would never do that," Sam replied with a huff. "Dean, these are still shifters we're talking about. We're supposed to hunt them, not sleep with them."

"Like I said, Sammy," Dean continued, testily, "It's really none of your business."

"But Melania Trump?"

"Well, yeah... I've, uh, always had a thing for her, I guess..."

"You're lying, Dean. I can tell."

"I'm not lying," Dean spat, his grip on the phone tightening. "I had sex with Melania Trump and I'm not ashamed of it!"

"Geez," Sam muttered, scratching the back of his head. "When I entered the club, 'Lady Gaga' offered me a lap dance before 'Rhianna' followed me into the men's room and offered me sex free of charge."

"Did you see anyone you recognized there?"

Sam sighed out the words, "Yes I did. They told me they had seen you there earlier with 'Melania' and that you left with her. She, well... 'it' hadn't gotten back yet, so everyone assumed you were paying her for sex..."

Dean frowned. "I never pay. You know that."

"Oh really?" Sam smirked. "Then why does your debit card have a recent withdrawal of three thousand dollars?"

"Damnit, Sam," Dean cursed. Sam really did need to mind his own business. "It's my money, so I have a right to spend it as I please."

"But seriously, Dean? A hooker?" Sam shook his head. "A shapeshifting hooker to boot? Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Yes," Dean sighed. "I have."

"This is the exact same thing you did shortly after selling your soul," Sam muttered into his cellular phone. "All you wanted to do was drink alcohol and have sex."

"And your point is?"

Sam exhaled. "This is about Cass, isn't it?"

"No," Dean said quickly. "It's not. Anyway, I'm going to hit the hay."

"You mean you're not coming back to the bunker?"

"I'll be back in a couple of days. Don't worry about me. I've got everything under control."

"God, Dean," Sam replied in an unhappy tone of voice. "Hookers? Shapeshifting hookers? Any one of them could be something that has it in for you. You could have a knife in your back before you know it."

Annoyed, Dean picked up the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels and took a swig. "Privacy, Sam. Privacy."

"You know," Sam began in response. "It doesn't matter how many hookers you have sex with, how much alcohol you drink, or how self-destructive you become. Our mom's still gone and Cass is still dead. Believe me—I know what it's like. I was the same way after you went to hell."

"I know that, Sam," Dean replied wholeheartedly. "But I just... need some time alone... you know?"

"Fine, Dean." Sam sighed loudly. "Just promise me you'll be back by tomorrow morning, at least."

"Alright," Dean agreed. "I'll see you then, okay?"

"Okay, Dean..."

Hang up.

000

The next day, Dean Winchester stared at the wooden cross on the side of the road.

"Cass," Dean began, looking down at the angel's gravesite, "I-I'm sorry I couldn't save you... so sorry... Hell, I even tried to sell my soul all over again to bring you back, but not even the crossroad demons will deal. They say they're happy with you dead and that my soul isn't worth enough to bring you back to life."

"Not to mention," Dean continued, "Crowley's dead, too, Rowena... and my mom, well... Lucifer's probably killed her, and as for his Nephilim spawn, Jack Kline... he's in the wind, though we continue to track him whenever and wherever bizarre happenings occur..."

"I wish you were here," Dean said sincerely, a single tear running down his face. Dean wiped it away. "I drove for hours just to get here, to pay my respects again... I can't let Sam see me like this. I can't let him know how much I... well, you know..." He knelt down and placed a single, white rose on the grave, of where Castiel's hunter's funeral had taken place.

There was nothing Dean could do.

Nothing.

"Rest in peace, Cass," he whispered after placing the rose on the gravesite. "Rest in peace..."

000

Back at the club, Dean continued to drink away his sorrows as he watched the strippers dance. Currently, 'Beyonce Knowles' had the main stage. The hunters in the club seemed to really get off on her—not that he could blame them. She had one of the nicest assess he'd ever seen.

I mention you when I say my prayers, I wrap you around all of my thoughts boy, you're my temporary high. I wish that when I wake up you're there to wrap your arms around me for real and tell me you'll stay by my side

Clouds filled with stars cover the skies, and I hope it rains. You're the perfect lullaby. What kind of dream is this?

"Hey, Dean. Back again, I see."

Dean looked up at the waitress, Beth.

"Do you want your usual?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, can I get two whiskeys straight up and two shots of tequila?"

"Damn, Dean," Beth replied, shaking her head at him, though she was smiling all the same. "You're going to be smashed by six o' clock."

"Yep, that's the plan."

"You know I can't give you back your keys if you hammered, right? We'd get into trouble for something like that."

Dean did not give a damn. "I'll just have the shifter drive me back to the hotel."

"Well, alright," Beth said with a shrug. "Works for me." She thought back to the previous night. "Hey, how did things work out with the shifter you took with you last night?"

"Fine," Dean said simply. "She didn't, uh... mention anything about last night to anyone, did she...?"

Beth shook her head. "No, she didn't."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God for that at least."

"You have some pretty kinky fantasies you don't want out in the open?"

"Exactly."

And then, 'Brittany Spears' sat down next to him.

"Hey green eyes," she whispered into his ear. "Remember me?"

Dean blinked at her. "Uh... should I?"

She smiled at him. "Buy me a drink?"

"Fine," Dean sighed. At this rate his tab was going to run higher than the money he'd be spending for the Cass-impersonating hooker.

"What's your pleasure?" he asked her.

She continued to smile. "Grey Goose and tonic."

Shit. It was her. It just had to be her.

While the waitress went off to gather their drinks, the shifter (as Brittany Spears) kissed the side of Dean's neck, moving one of her hands down south, in between Dean's legs.

Dean grabbed her hand. "I told you," he said sternly. "I don't like it when you do that."

She sighed at him. "Why? Because I'm not your precious little angel?"

He grabbed her by the throat. "Listen. You ever tell anyone and I mean anyone about that, and I will kill you, no questions asked. I will torture you with silver, cut and stab you over and over again until you beg for death, do you understand?"

"Relax, Dean," she replied, Dean's hand still around her throat. "What goes on outside of the club stays outside of the club."

"Hey, if it isn't the man himself!"

Dean released the young shifter's throat and looked up to see none other than Walt...

Damnit, Dean thought.

"I didn't expect to you around these parts," Walt said, beer in hand as he took a seat in the booth next to Dean.

Dean did not want Walt there, and honestly wasn't up for conversation.

Nonetheless, he asked, "What are you doing here, Walt?"

Walt laughed out loud. "Do you really have to ask? Where else am I gonna find a Jennifer Lawrence lookalike? Damn, I really love that movie The Hunger Games. It reminds me of hunting bad guys in real life."

"Dude, you are trashed," Dean said to Walt. "How long have you been here?"

"Since noon."

Dean looked down at his watch. "It's half past three now."

"Yeah, I know," Walt replied, laughing. "But Jennifer and I have a little something lined up for later, if you know what I mean, so, yeah, I won't be driving. They take my keys every time I come here, every time."

Dean shook his head. This was the guy who had killed him? Damn, Dean must've been really off of his game, and Heaven had turned out to be a real bust. They had even given Bobby a freggin' rocking chair upstairs, which he had specifically declined.

"Say Dean," Walt said after having taken another sip of his Corona beer. "I know I already told you this at Jody's, but... I'm really sorry for killing you."

"Neh." Dean shrugged. "You did what you thought you had to do at the time, I guess."

"I miss my pal Roy, too," Walt said quietly.

"Hey," Dean began, taking another swig of whiskey. "Roy saved my brother's life, so that definitely counts for something."

"You think he's in Heaven?"

Dean shrugged again. "If I had to guess, I'd say so."

"What's it like up there?"

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes. "It's crap, that's what it is. All you do is relive your glory days over and over again for eternity." He smirked again. "Paradise my ass. The one good thing I can recall about it is that in Heaven, there are no hangovers."

"Cheers to that, at least," Walt said, clicking his beer bottle against Dean's glass of whiskey, as though proposing a toast.

"So," the shifter who had impersonated Castiel the night before began. "Who's your friend?"

"Hey," Walt raised a hand and pointed his finger at her, "You're Brittany Spears, aren't you? Dean, Dean, Dean... never knew you had a type."

"Oh he has a type, alright," she said with a smile, before Dean shot her a threatening look.

"Oh, that reminds me," Walt said, smiling, "I saw Sam here last night. He was asking questions about where you were and who you left with. I told him I saw you leave with Melania Trump." He laughed out loud.

"Funny," Dean said sarcastically through his teeth. Then he took a shot of imported tequila and chased it with whiskey.

"Bet you wish you were Heaven right now," Walt said, smiling still. "You're going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow."

Already feeling the effects of the alcohol, Dean said, "Fuck off."

"Touch-y," Walt replied, taking another drink from his beer. When the waitress returned to check on them, Walt said, "Shots all around, Jose Cuervo Black."

"You got it," Beth replied. "Just make sure you don't drink up too quickly this time, alright? You were practically having sex in the VIP room last night when you know that's only for lap dances."

"But it was Jennifer Lawrence! Who could say no to that," Walt said happily.

"Well at least you're a happy drunk," Dean muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"And what kind of drunk are you?" the shifter sitting next to him asked.

Quickly and without thought, Dean replied, "A horny drunk." He blinked consecutively. "...did I just say that out loud?"

Walt fell into another fit of unrestrained laughter. "Yeah, you did, buddy."

And then, to make matters worse...

"Hey, look whose here!" Walt gestured to the doorway.

"Shit," Dean whispered to himself. As if things couldn't get any worse, they had. Dean didn't know why his luck would've been any different, but of course Sam Winchester had to show up...

"I'm... gonna go," Dean said to Walt upon having taken another shot. "Uh, 'Britney? We still on for tonight?"

"Of course, sugar," she purred into his ear.

Walt made another toast. "Now that's what I'm talking about. Hit that baby one more time, Dean!"

Dean stood and then snuck out the back door, before Sam could see him.

But, shit... he had left all of his weapons at the front. That was part of the deal there—no weapons of any kind were allowed in the club. Not even a pocket knife.

Dean stumbled around the building, having a hard time keeping his footing. He felt sick, like he was going to vomit. Too much alcohol, he knew, but he had been worse...

Record scratch.

Okay... maybe he hadn't been worse. Sam was worried that Dean was becoming an alcoholic, but ever since the loss of his mother and Cass, Dean really had gone off the deep end.

Oh well, he told himself. It's not as though he was drinking demon blood or whoring himself out to some demon whore. Sam had been a drunk, too, for many months while Dean was in hell.

"Who are you?"

"I am the one who grabbed you tight and raised you from perdition."

A flash of light filled the barn, and Dean saw the shadow of Castiel's beautiful, angelic wings spread far and wide behind him.

Dean stumbled again, walking around the club until he had reached the entrance.

He entered the club, and asked the woman behind the desk for his weapons back, one of which was Ruby's knife.

"Thanks," Dean said, reaching for his keys.

"Not so fast there, cowboy," the young blonde said, dangling Dean's keys in midair. "Beth left specific instructions regarding your driving."

"I'm not drunk," Dean replied, sounding, well... drunk.

"Don't worry, I got this one," none other than Sam Winchester stated.

"Alright," the young woman replied, handing the keys to Dean's Impala over to Sam.

"Damnit, Sammy," Dean cursed him as they stepped outside of the club. "Why did you have to follow me here, a-gain?"

"So you wouldn't do anything stupid, like, I don't know, drive under the influence?" Sam smirked at him. "What, you want to go back to prison again that badly?"

"No," Dean huffed, placing Ruby's knife back into the holder on his jeans. "I just... I..."

"Killing yourself won't bring Cass back, goddamnit!"

Dean took a swing at Sam and hit his brother square in the jaw.

Sam turned his head, spitting out a considerable amount of blood.

"Damn, Sam, I'm..." Dean exhaled a deep breath. "I'm sorry. This whole thing with Mom and Cass and Lucifer's demon child, I just... it's too much for me to handle."

"I'll take you back to the bunker where you can sober up," Sam said to him.

Dean shook his head. "I have another... appointment tonight at two AM."

"With what? Some shapeshifting hooker?"

"Yes," Dean replied sincerely. "Just take me by the Holiday Inn up the road and I promise I'll be back by dawn."

"So you can drink some more?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "You're going to be having the DT's before you know it."

"What, because you did while I was in hell?"

"You know what?" Sam said, anger in his voice. "Fuck you, Dean. This has nothing to do with me, and I'm tired of being your damn babysitter. So, fine. I'll drop you off at the hotel, but I'm taking the car with me. I'll pick you up in the morning after you've had sex with another trashy stripper. Who did the last one impersonate for you? Ginger from Gilligan's Island?"

"No, that was last week," Dean answered truthfully.

"You know what?" Sam said, angry still. "Fuck it. I don't want to know."

"Good," Dean said as he stumbled his way to the Impala, getting into the passenger's side seat while Sam got into the driver's seat.

"I don't think you should come back to this place again," Sam stated under his breath. "It's nothing but trouble, and you smell like a mixture of Jack and cigarettes."

"Whatever," Dean said nonchalantly, uncaring when it came to anything Sam had to say to him right now.

"It's only around four o' clock," Sam said as he drove to the Holiday Inn. "What are you going to do until two in the morning?"

"Drink some more, pass out, and then wake up when the shifter arrives."

"Sounds like a solid plan," Sam remarked with ultimate disapproval.

They reached the Holiday Inn and Sam pulled in to the front of the building.

"Be careful, Dean," Sam warned him. "You could still be arrested for public intoxication."

"I have my keycard right,"—he removed the keycard from his wallet—"here. Don't worry about me, Sammy. I'm going to be just fine."

"Well, okay..." Sam said, in spite of the fact that he was worried about leaving Dean to his vices, not to mention a shapeshifter... Any one of them could knife Dean in the chest without giving it a second thought.

"Be careful," Sam added in the form of a whisper.

"I will be," Dean said as he stepped outside of the car and made way to enter the hotel. He was still stumbling ever so slightly, but it wasn't as if the person behind the check-in counter was going to say anything to him. They probably had drunks in there all of the time.

Dean approached the elevator; the double doors closing in front of him once he was inside, while Dean hit the button for the third floor.

The elevator doors parted, and then Dean walked in the general direction of his hotel room. He got out the card and placed it into the door's slot, opening the door fully before stepping inside.

Dean instantly sat down in a beige chair and began to drink.

When he felt like he couldn't drink anymore, he got into bed, having set his alarm for two o' clock sharp.

"Cass," Dean whispered to himself. "Oh Cass... I love you..."

And then he passed out on the center of the king-sized bed, a bottle of unopened Jack Daniels in his left-hand.

000

He awoke.

"Where am I?" he whispered to himself.

"Oh my God," the man said with a detectable amount of horror in his voice. "I was cremated..."

"I was dead," none other than Castiel said silently, looking at his right, clenched fist. "How... how is it I'm back alive?"

"Ssh," the figure in front of Castiel whispered.

Castiel's brow furrowed. "Jack... is that... you?"

Jack nodded, although he didn't seem up for talking. It was well after midnight now—somewhere around one thirty AM—and Castiel looked into Jack's eyes which were glowing in the dark, a golden shade of amber. He didn't look like a little boy, either. No, he appeared to be a teenager.

"Why did you bring me back, and how?"

Jack smiled at Castiel, placing his index finger to his lips before whispering, "Shh," again.

Finally, Jack spoke, "I know what you are and what it is you want. I can read your mind."

"That's comforting," Castiel sighed, none too thrilled.

"My biological father stabbed you the chest with an angel blade, did he not? What's the last thing you remember?"

"I... I remember Dean screaming out a loud "No!" before I fell to the ground, dead...

"Dean's not doing too well at the moment," Jack said idly. "I've been... 'watching' over he and Sam, in the same way that you used to. I'm afraid Dean's drinking has gotten way out of hand... He's overwhelmed by your passing, and blames himself for your death."

"But that wasn't his fault," Castel said, brushing off his clothes in order to help get some of the dirt off. "I was the one stupid enough to go after Lucifer all by myself... I... I should have known better..."

"You did that for me. Come, Father," Jack said, extending a hand to the angel. "I'll take you to Dean."

Uneasily, Castiel took Jack's hand before they teleported into some sort of long hallway with red carpet.

"I don't understand," Castiel said with utmost curiosity. "What is Dean doing in this place to begin with?"

"Believe me," Jack remarked. "You don't want to know." He pointed to the door, room number 313. "Just remember, whatever happens, that I did this for you. I'll always keep you safe, Castiel, the way you kept me safe. As sure as I live and breathe, nothing and no one will ever come to harm you."

Jack smiled a relatively dark smile of the sorts, and yet there was still a hint of kindness sealed within. "You knock on the door while I take care of a certain someone, or should I say something..."

Castiel turned away from the door, instantaneously noting that Jack was no longer to be seen.

Take care of someone, something, Castiel thought. I don't like the sound of that.

He swallowed, and then began knocking on the hotel door.

And when Dean opened it, Castiel was so happy to see him that he wanted to fall to his knees, just as Dean had done for him.

Castiel smiled softly at him. "Hello, Dean..."

"You're late," Dean said, while Castiel closed the door behind him.

Castiel's brow furrowed. "You mean you've been expecting me?"

"Of course I have," Dean said, closing the space between Castiel and himself. And then suddenly, Dean leaned down and kissed the angel, having no idea that he was kissing the real Castiel and not some shifter.

Castiel pulled away. "Dean, w-what are you d-doing?!" he exclaimed in a mixture of surprise and utmost shock.

"I'm kissing you, 'Cass'," Dean replied, and then went in for another kiss, his right-hand cupping the side of Castiel's face while Dean continued to kiss him. He stuck his tongue into Castiel's mouth, seizing absolute control of the kiss.

"Dean," Castiel murmured as he once again pulled away from Dean. "Why... why are you doing this?"

"Because I love you," Dean whispered, grabbing Castiel by the lapels as he pulled the angel toward an adjacent wall. He shoved Castiel face first into the wall, nearest to the nightstand. Dean removed the same tube of lubricant he had used the night before, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans thereafter. After this was achieved, Dean reached both hands around Castiel's front to undo the angel's belt and pants... pulling the black slacks down until he could see Castiel's ass.

"I can't wait one more minute to fuck you," Dean said, lustfully.

"You want to do what to me?!" Castiel said, sounding shocked and confused.

And then, Dean whet a set of fingers with the lubricant and shoved them into Castiel from behind.

"Oh, God," Castiel moaned loudly. "Dean... I-I feel... strange... What's-What's happening to me...?"

"Props to you, shifter. You actually sound just like the real Cass would during sex with me."

"What?" Castiel said, confused still more. Before he could ask Dean what the hell he had been talking about, however, his body froze up the second Dean entered him from behind...

"Dean...!" Castiel gasped, before Dean began to fuck him upright and against the wall, hard.

"You left me alone," Dean said as he continued to thrust into the angel. "You said you would never leave me! You said you would always come when I called! You said you would die for me, and so you did! I never wanted that!"

"Dean," Castiel moaned again. "Please, it hurts! You've got to stop this. This-This isn't right! Why would you do something so cruel to me?!"

Dean suddenly withdrew his hard cock from Castiel's opening, and then threw Castiel down to the king-sized mattress.

"Take your fucking clothes off, 'Cass'."

"No, I-I don't want to... What you just did to me... it hurt, a lot. God, Dean, you are scaring me with this..."

"Fine," Dean huffed, his eyes full of lust. "I'll just have to do what I did last night and take off your clothes for you."

Castiel furrowed his brow. "Last night? But I wasn't—"

"Shut up," Dean said sternly, removing Castiel's shoes before pulling off Castiel's pants. And go figure, Cass was hard.

"It seems like your body has a different opinion," Dean said with a dark chuckle. "Now sit up so I can get that coat off of you."

"No," Castiel argued. "I don't know what the hell's gotten into you, but I don't like it... The Dean I knew would never hurt or violate me like this..."

When Dean made a play for Castiel's coat, Castiel punched Dean square in the jaw as hard as he could, busting Dean's lower lip in the process. He waved his hand in an attempt to throw Dean off of him, but... nothing happened.

They were gone.

His powers were gone.

Angry at whom he thought to be a shifter, Dean backhanded Castiel across the face with his right-hand with an unnecessary amount of force. Then he did it again, and again.

"Whore," Dean spat. "That's not part of what I'm paying for."

Dean was finally able to get the beige coat off of the angel (though Castiel had put up quite the fight) before he ripped open the white, button down shirt, the same way he had done to the shifter the night before.

Dean then pulled down his blue jeans—his boxers along with them—stepping out of them before kicking his jeans aside.

Castiel swallowed, deeply. "Dean, I... what is this? Why? Why are you doing this to me? You're actually trying to engage in sexual intercourse with me, an angel of all things? Don't you understand the consequences? That if word of this got to Heaven that certain angels wouldn't hesitate to kill the both of us?" He gave Dean a pleading look. "We can't do this. Please, Dean, I am begging you not to do this to me..."

"You're one hell of an actor," Dean praised. "I've got to hand it to you. And as for why? It's because I love you," he repeated wholeheartedly. "Even if this were real, I wouldn't care about the damn consequences. I only care about us." Naked, he sat down on the bed next to Castiel (whom Dean still thought of as a shifter). And yet, something seemed different about him from the night before.

"Suck me off," Dean said to him, running his fingers lovingly through Castiel's dark hair.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means you put my dick in your mouth and suck," Dean replied in all seriousness. "Damn, I am loving this whole innocence act but you don't need to get that carried away. Everyone knows what a blowjob is."

Castiel averted his eyes away from Dean. "...what's a blowjob?" he asked him, his face flushing a slight shade of red.

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed the back of Castiel's head by his hair, forcing the angel's face downwards into his lap.

"Now all you gotta do is suck," Dean stated. "No teeth, though. Guys hate that."

"But Dean, I..."

"Just do it."

Finally, Castiel did as he had been instructed to do. He opened his mouth, and began sucking Dean off...

"Hey, watch the teeth, remember?"

Castiel had no idea what the hell he was doing. He could feel Dean's hands in his hair, forcing him to deep-throat Dean. It wasn't as easy as it sounded; Castiel had a horrible gag reflex, probably due to his complete and utter lack of experience where such matters were concerned.

"Oh, Cass," Dean moaned nevertheless, his hands still in his angel's hair, pushing Castiel's head down. "How I've dreamed of you sucking me off, you have no idea. You really do have a velvet throat."

The angel wanted it all to end so badly, but he couldn't bring himself to smite Dean in any way, even if he could. No, he would never hurt Dean Winchester like that.

Castiel gagged again, before Dean released his grip on Castiel's hair and allowed him to take a deep breath and sit back up.

Dean raised an eyebrow at him. "There's... something different about you tonight, but I can't quite put my finger on it. I know I said I wanted someone without much experience, but you really are acting like a virgin."

Dean grabbed Castiel by the tie and pulled him in for another kiss. That was another thing. The night before when he had kissed the shifter, they had seemed like a rather skilled kisser. This shifter was different. They acted like they hadn't kissed anyone in years, if ever.

"Dean," Castiel moaned into the kiss. "We really shouldn't be doing this..."

"I don't care," Dean replied, his lips a mere inch away from Castiel's. "I want you."

Castiel swallowed again. "I-I don't know how I feel about any of this. I'm... scared of it, Dean... I'm scared of you right now, and I'm... scaring myself. Something's happening to my body that I don't understand..."

"There's no reason to be scared, Cass. It's just sex, that's all, and as for how you're feeling, well... to put it bluntly, you're in heat."

"Now lie down," Dean said, spreading Castiel's legs before him. "God, you look so sexy like this. I wish you could see yourself."

Dean lifted up Castiel's legs on either side of him, positioned himself, and then pushed inside of the angel all over again.

Dean started out slowly enough, but it wasn't long before he had picked up the pace.

Castiel gripped tightly at the cover, his mouth open and his eyes closed.

"Look at me, Cass," Dean demanded, once again running his fingers through Castiel's dark fringe of hair. "Tell me you love me."

"I do love you, Dean," Castiel moaned, wrapping both legs around Dean's waist. "I've always loved you since the first time I saw you, since the first time I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

"Everybody knows about that," Dean said as he continued to take the man beneath him. Then he flipped them over, so that Castiel was now on top. Dean grabbed both of the angel's wrists and held them down on either side of him, in order to keep Castiel from touching himself and hence coming without him.

Castiel's head fell back and he moaned, loudly. Thank God Dean had put a 'don't disturb' sign on the door.

"Now move," Dean said, still holding Castiel's hands down by the wrists. "You know the drill."

Hesitantly, Castiel began to move. It still hurt—a lot—but from what he did know about sex (which was not that much, especially when it came to gay sex), it only hurt at first, and then felt much better later on.

Eventually, it did start to feel better for Castiel. Not only better, but really, really good. Great, even. He began riding Dean faster, harder, wanting nothing more than a blissful release.

"Oh, Dean," Castiel whispered, struggling to free his hands from Dean's grasp on his wrists. He wanted—needed—to touch himself. "Please," he begged silently, "Ah, free my hands. I can't take it anymore..."

"I said you're not coming without me," Dean replied, his grip on Castiel's wrists tightening.

Castiel continued to ride Dean, his body moving up and down, up and down... Dean saw the single tear that ran down Castiel's cheek as if it were a bead of sweat, his dark hair mussed and his sapphire blue eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Dean didn't think he had ever seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

If only it could've been the real Cass as opposed to some random shifter.

Dean felt his climax fast approaching. The shifter was tight, so very tight... the tightest piece of ass he had ever had. He released Castiel's wrists, before he began stroking the angel off on his own.

"Dean, ah, oh God," Castiel moaned out. "Oh Dean, I... something's happening to my body, something I've never felt before, even when I was human with April..."

Dean blinked at him. "Wait, I... no one knows about you and... Oh my God."

Castiel's blue eyes lit up with angel fire—a bright, white light—when he came, before a flash of light filled the room. That was when Dean saw them.

That was when Dean saw the shadow of Castiel's wings on the wall.

Dean was close, too, so close... he just couldn't help it. He came, too.

"Cass," Dean whispered once he had finished, "Is that really you in there...?" he asked with tears in his eyes.

Castiel nodded to a barely noticeable extent. "Yes, Dean," he replied, spent and breathing heavily. "It's me... Who else would I have been?"

"The shapeshifter from the club."

"Wait. You've been paying shapeshifters to impersonate me during sex?"

"Yes," Dean whispered, ashamed. "But you... how did you come back?"

"Jack helped to bring me back from a horrible place where this... nothingness had me and tortured me... Jack told me you were in trouble..."

"Jack as in Lucifer's Jack?"

Castiel nodded again. "Yes."

"And you just let him get away?"

"He's not evil, Dean," Castiel said, moving his hips upwards until Dean was no longer inside of him.

That was when Dean noticed the blood...

"Oh, Cass, I..." Dean didn't know what to say. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been so rough with you... It's just... I mean, I thought you were a shifter..."

Castiel shook his head. "No. Sorry to disappoint you."

"Disappoint me?" Dean smiled and pulled the angel down into his arms so that Castiel's head was against his chest. "That was the best sex of my life."

"Please, Dean," Castiel whispered, wiping the tears away from Dean's face with one hand while running the other back through Dean's hair. "Please don't cry..."

"I can't help it," Dean replied as tears continued to streak down his face. "It's you, it's really you... I thought... I thought you were gone for good this time..." Dean placed a soft kiss on Castiel's hair.

"You remember what I told you, right? That this is forbidden by Heaven," Castiel whispered to him. "An angel must never lie with a human..."

"Why? I can't imagine the two of us having a Nephilim."

"It's still forbidden. If Heaven caught wind of this, I would be caged and tortured until I begged to die... If you think being tortured in hell was bad, in Heaven it's much worse..."

"I'll never let anything happen to you ever again," Dean said softly, and then kissed Castiel's hair again.

"Huh." Castiel rubbed his hand along Dean's chest. "We're all sticky. Obviously from my, what do you call it? Ejaculation?"

"Well," Dean began. "That's what showers are for."

"I don't need to take showers," Castiel replied honestly.

Dean smiled at him. "So, you... wouldn't want to take a shower with me?"

"Well... as long as you don't plan on pushing me face first into the wall again... I really didn't like that, Dean... You really hurt me when you did that..."

"I'm so sorry I hurt you, Cass," Dean said honestly. "God, I made you bleed. I never would have done that to you had I known. And, hell, I practically forced you against your will. How... how can you even think to forgive me for doing something so horrible like that to you...?"

Castiel smiled at him. "Oh, Dean. I already have."

Dean pulled Castiel in for another kiss, slower and sweeter than the ones before.

"I love you," Dean whispered against Castiel's full lips.

"I love you too, Dean," Castiel whispered back.

"But...?"

Castiel exhaled a sigh. "I... don't think this is something we can or should continue..."

"Why not?" Dean asked him. "Because of a bunch of stuck up, crazy half-assed angels in Heaven?"

"It's not just that, Dean," Castiel murmured back. "It's because I am still an angel of the Lord. I wasn't... built for this. This... this is still only a vessel... it's not the real me."

"It's the you I know," Dean said softly. "That's all that matters to me. Besides... God Himself said that he had boyfriends before."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "Well that's... interesting to know, I suppose."

"Metatron told me," Dean said, and then laughed a little.

"Now there's a reliable source."

"Yeah." Dean laughed again. "God is bi. That's a new one."

Castiel's smile faded, and then he averted his eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Dean asked him.

Castiel replied, "I was thinking that I wish I could put you to sleep and then wipe your memory of this ever having happened."

"No," Dean said sternly, grasping Castiel's wrists to keep the angel from making an attempt to touch his forehead. "No, absolutely not. I don't want to forget. You mean too much to me. Please, Cass, just... give us a chance. That's all I'm asking for..."

"Are you really ready to risk losing everything for me? God, I don't even have my powers anymore..."

Dean nodded his head. "I don't care whether or not you have powers anymore... As I've said before... I would die for you. I know you won't like hearing this, but... after you died, and after I lost my mother, I went to the crossroads and tried to sell my soul all over again in order to once again bring back the life of someone I loved—you. Damn, I was gonna have to make out with a freggin' demon guy." He shuddered. "But he said there was nothing that even he could do because he didn't have the juice to raise an angel slain by Lucifer, plus my soul was already tainted—used goods from when I'd sold it before."

"I'm glad you didn't manage to sell your soul, Dean," Castiel whispered gratefully. "But still, what comes now? How can we—a human and an angel—possibly hope to make something like this work? As you know, I've seen it a number of times before, and... it always ends in death..."

"We can worry about that later," Dean said, releasing Castiel's wrists from his grasp before stroking the side of the angel's face with his hand. "Right about now, I'd feel like a shower."

"You mean with me?" Castiel asked him.

"Of course," Dean said, and then kissed Castiel once again. Castiel kissed him back wholeheartedly, running his hands down Dean's chest.

"You're getting better." Dean smiled.

"What?"

"You're getting better at kissing."

Castiel smiled at Dean. "Well, I have a good teacher."

Dean slowly sat up, Castiel with him. Afterwards, Dean got out of bed and walked his way into the bathroom before turning on the shower, making sure the water was hot enough. Shortly thereafter, Castiel got out of the bed and walked into the bathroom too.

Dean got into the shower first, sighing with pleasure as the hot water hit his skin.

Castiel had taken showers before, back during his brief stint as a human... he remembered he had liked them.

So without another thought, he stepped into the shower with Dean.

"Ahh," Castiel sighed contently, "I'd forgotten how good it feels to take a shower." He chuckled. "Not as good as television, but still good."

And then, Dean pulled Castiel into a kiss. The angel succumbed, kissing Dean back passionately.

Dean pulled away ever so slightly. "You really are getting better at this," he said before he went back to kissing Castiel.

"Like I said, I have a good teacher," Castiel said in between ardent kisses.

Swiftly, Dean said, "Stroke me off," before he went on the say, "I promise I'll make it up to you later..."

Castiel appeared confused. "Stroke you off? What does that mean?"

Dean sighed at him. "It means you grab my dick and work your hand up and down it."

"Oh," Castiel whispered, doing as he had been instructed to do. With his right-hand, he grabbed a hold of Dean's growing hardness and began moving his hand back and forth.

"Cass," Dean moaned, his head tilting back into the hot spray of water. He kissed the angel again, hot and heavy, wrapping both arms around Castiel as he continued to kiss him.

"Dean," Castiel said while he continued to work his hand up a down Dean's hardness. "Am I doing okay? I mean, am I succeeding in giving you pleasure?"

"Yes, you are," Dean whispered against Castiel's lips, and then went in for another kiss. "I'm so happy," he said silently. "So happy that you're alive. I don't think I could've gone one more day without you... the flashbacks were so damn bad... the nightmares... all I could see was Lucifer stabbing you through the chest with his angel blade over and over again..."

"That wasn't your fault, Dean," Castiel replied modestly. "It was mine. I should've known better than to try and play hero by going after Lucifer."

"But if I hadn't gone after you, then Lucifer wouldn't have been able to—"

"Dean," Castiel said, cupping Dean's face in his hands while he looked up into Dean's emerald green eyes. "It wasn't your fault."

"So you say," Dean whispered, grabbing one of Castiel's hands before he kissed its palm.

Castiel went back to stroking Dean off, suddenly realizing that he himself was getting hard again, too...

Dean looked down. "I promise I'll take care of that when we get out of the shower," he said, smiling ever so slightly.

"Well in that case," Castiel said, tilting his head back before he went in for another kiss. "Can we get out of the shower now?"

Dean couldn't help it. He laughed out loud.

That was his angel.

And Dean would do anything—anything—for him. Especially now that he knew what it was like to believe that Cass was truly dead. Everything they'd been through together... Demons, angels, the Leviathan, purgatory, alternate universes... even Heaven and hell. The list went on and on.

Dean wanted to murder Lucifer.

And somehow... he was going to find a way.

"Oh, Cass," Dean continued to moan, until just like that, he came all over Castiel's stomach.

"I'm sorry, Cass," Dean apologized. "My head was somewhere else for a while."

"You don't need to apologize, Dean," Castiel said softly. "It's nothing that a good loofa won't fix up."

Dean nodded and sighed out the words, "Okay, then."

Then he got out of the shower and wrapped a white towel around his waist, briefly stopping to look into the mirror. It was the first time he had recognized the reflection staring back at him in some time.

The water turned off.

Dean smiled and went into the bed room, astonished when he saw that Castiel was actually putting his clothes on manually. Usually Castiel would have been able to get all cleaned up and into his clothes with merely a thought.

"I'm... sorry about your powers, Cass," Dean said sincerely. "But you're back. I don't care about your powers. I only care about you, about us."

Castiel just stood there, blinking at Dean. "You said you were going to 'take care of me'. What is it you meant by that?"

With nothing but his towel on, Dean approached Castiel and pushed him down to the bed. He took off Castiel's belt and then unzipped his pants.

"I've... never done this before, so forgive me if I suck at it."

"Suck at... oh, Dean!" Castiel moaned loudly as Dean began to suck him off. "Dean...! It feels so... so good..."

In all honesty, Dean was just as in the dark about this as Castiel had been. He felt very, very gay and then some, but he kept telling himself that Cass was the only guy he would ever do this with.

Dean gagged a little. His gag reflex wasn't as bad as Castiel's had been, but this was still harder and more complicated than he had pictured it to be. He'd received more blowjobs than he could count and gone down on just as many women, but this... this was completely new to him.

He felt Castiel's hands in his hair as the angel continued to moan his name, incessantly.

"Dean, oh God, I-I... I'm... what's the word...?"

Quickly, Dean said, "Coming," before he went back to going down on the angel. "It's another word for 'orgasm'."

Castiel tightened his grip on Dean's hair and said, "Dean I-I think I'm coming. Dean, oh Dean...!"

He came into Dean's mouth.

It tasted thick and salty, and Dean didn't know what to do, but it was obvious that Cass didn't have any sort of STD, not to mention the fact that he loved him, dearly, so... Dean swallowed.

Dean sat up on his knees and wiped his mouth, while Castiel laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel whispered to him. "That felt... amazing..."

"You're welcome," Dean replied quietly.

There was a knock on the door.

"Shit," Dean muttered.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked.

"That just has to be Sam, I know it."

"I can go and hide somewhere if you'd like."

Dean shook his head. "I guess you'll have to. Go hide in the bathroom until I get rid of him."

"But Dean," Castiel whispered as he zipped his pants back up. "Sam needs to know I'm not dead, too..."

"Yeah, I know that," Dean agreed, still in nothing but a towel. "But he doesn't need to know that I'm sleeping with you. It's none of his business."

"Well, okay then..." Castiel said, standing up before he went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Dean approached the door, quickly checking the peephole.

Surely enough, it was none other than Sam Winchester.

Dean sighed heavily, and then opened the door.

"So," Sam said with his arms folded across his chest, "You were too lazy to call me back?"

"No, I was just... busy, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know." Sam smirked at him. "Another shapeshifting prostitute."

"Yeah, uh, she just left. I was in the shower when you knocked on the door."

"Dean," Sam began in a serious voice, "This has got to stop. The drinking, the prostitutes, the lies..."

"What lies?"

"Well," Sam continued, earnestly, "I know that your prostitute from last night never showed up."

Uh oh.

"H-How would you know that?"

"She was found in the club's parking lot with her eyes burned out, as if an angel had taken a whack at her. Her birth name was Emily Malone. Anyway, since she obviously didn't show this morning, what is it—or who is it—that you were doing in here?"

"Uh, when 'Emily' didn't show up, I... called the club and had them send over someone else..."

Sam sighed, his arms still folded. "Is that the truth?"

Dean nodded. "Yes, that's the truth," he lied.

"I want you to come back to the bunker with me," Sam said casually. "We need to find a new case, give you something to do besides drink and have sex."

"I think I should get dressed first," Dean replied, still wearing nothing but the white towel.

"And I think we need to look into the dead shapeshifter," Sam answered him. "I have feeling that we've got another rogue angel out there."

"Great," Dean said sarcastically. "That's just what we need."

"Well," Sam said in response, "I'll go wait in the Impala while you get dressed."

Dean nodded. "Alright, see you in a few."

Dean closed the door, before Castiel appeared in front of him.

"You were watching that?" Dean asked him.

"Yes," Castiel replied. "I... I know who killed the girl..."

"Who was it...?"

"Jack Kline," Castiel said with a huff. "Early this morning, after Jack brought me to you, he said... he said he had to take care of a 'certain someone', of a 'certain something'... I believe he was trying to, well... 'set us up'... and he didn't want the shapeshifter to come between us..."

"Oh, well that's just fantastic," Dean replied, sarcastic still. "Lucifer Jr.'s following you around."

"His name's 'Jack'," Castiel said in a corrective manner. "And he's my ward, not my enemy. If it weren't for him, I'd still be six feet under."

"Yet he's killed someone and you don't really give a damn."

"I care," Castiel said, truthfully. "You just... don't understand him..."

"And you do?"

"He's just a child," Castiel retorted. "He's all alone in the world, with Lucifer's power, which only makes things worse. I... I was supposed to raise him, but instead he raised me..."

"So you're saying that this Devil's spawn has feelings for you?" Dean laughed out loud. "Right... that's a good one. This is Lucifer's child we're talking about here, don't forget. He feels nothing, for no one."

"He saved me," Castiel replied silently. "He brought me to you, somehow knowing that you and I had... feelings... for one another. He claimed he could read my mind."

"Great, so now we're dealing with Professor X."

Castiel furrowed his brow. "Who's Professor X?"

Dean sighed. Castiel was still so naïve, in spite of the fact that it was one of the qualities Dean loved so much about him.

"Professor X is a telepath from X-Men."

"X-Men?"

"Just... just forget about it, okay? I've got to get to that hunter's club and find out what's up with 'Emily's' murder."

Castiel nodded. "Then I'll go with you."

"But Sam, he—"

"He has to find out about me, eventually."

"But I don't want to lose you again," Dean said swiftly. "I couldn't take it again, and if 'Jack' has the power to bring you back, he most certainly has the power to kill you..."

"Fine," Castiel murmured. "But I'm still coming with you."

"No."

"Yes."

The towel fell from Dean's waist, leaving him completely naked.

"No," he said again, approaching the angel.

His angel.

When he reached Castiel, he leaned downwards and kissed him, his right-hand cupping the angel's face.

Castiel kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck.

"Dean," Castiel whispered into the kiss. "I have to go."

"No, you don't."

Castiel pulled away. "Yes, I do. Not to mention the fact that Sam needs to know that I'm alive... I'm sure he feels just as badly about my death as you do..."

"No way in hell," Dean replied against Castiel's lips. "You're my angel..."

"But Sam still needs to know..."

"Fine," Dean sighed, caressing the side of Castiel's face with the back of his hand. "We'll tell him."

Castiel swallowed. "You may... want to get dressed, first, though..."`

"How can I think about getting dressed when I want to fuck you, right here, right now?"

"Sam's expecting you," Castiel said, caressing Dean's face likewise.

"Fine," Dean sighed with utmost regret. "I'll go... put on my clothes..."

"Wait," Castiel whispered. "Would you like me to... give you a, what do you call it? Oh—a blowjob first?"

"Yes," Dean replied seriously. "But we don't have the time, unfortunately."

"Dean,'" Castiel said, his face flushing red, "I'm starting to feel... strange again..."

"The word you're looking for is 'horny', Cass."

"I don't understand."

Dean sighed. "It means you want to have sex."

"Oh," Castiel whispered, embarrassed.

"We'll have plenty time for that later," Dean said, in spite of the fact that he wanted to have sex with Castiel again, too.

Castiel studied Dean as he put his clothes back on. Dean pulled his jeans up, before he then pulled his white t-shirt on. Afterwards, he put his open, dark green shirt on over his t-shirt.

Dean said, "I have absolutely no idea how we're going to explain this to Sam." He ran a hand back through his hair and sighed again. "He's going to want to know why I didn't tell him you were alive sooner."

"Are we going to tell him that you and I had intercourse?"

"No," Dean said quickly. "That's none of his business."

Castiel nodded. "Alright, I understand. I'll see you outside, then."

And just like that, Castiel was out the door and gone.

"Shit," Dean muttered, and then began to gather his things as fast as he could.

000

Sam was sitting in the driver's seat to his and Dean's 67' Impala.

"Damn," Sam said, sighing. "At least he didn't seem drunk, though..."

"Hello, Sam..."

Sam jumped in place. He'd recognized that voice all too well...

Within seconds, he had the colt pointed in Castiel's face.

"Who the hell are you?" Sam asked as he cocked the gun.

"It's me," Castiel said, making it sound simple enough. "It's me, Castiel."

"Nice try," Sam said, gun pointed at Castiel's face. "Now I want you to give me one good reason as to why I shouldn't blow your head right off."

"It's... really me, Sam..."

Sam shook his head. "No, it can't be. Castiel is dead.'

"Jack brought me back," Castiel whispered, staring Sam straight in the eyes. "It's really me. Team Free Will, remember?"

"Anyone could tell me that," Sam said sternly. "You have ten seconds before I blow your head right off, shifter."

"I'm not a shifter," Castiel whispered softly. "Ask Dean. It's really me..."

"Then tell me something that only the real Castiel would know."

"Fine," Castiel sighed. "I... I watched a porno in one of your motel rooms... about the pizza man... before Samuel stepped inside and seemed very displeased. Then I later kissed Meg while we were in hell..."

Sam's eyes softened, and he lowered the gun. "Cass...?"

"Yes," Castiel whispered. "It's really me..."

Sam didn't hesitate. He leaned over and pulled Castiel into a tight hug. "Oh Cass... it's really you."

Castiel hugged Sam back, his arms wrapped around him. "I've missed you, Sam..."

"But how... why did Jack bring you back?"

"Because I'm his ward," Castiel replied, making it sound simple enough. "I'm, well... the only father figure he's ever known..."

Sam continued to hug Castiel, so tightly that the angel could barely breathe. "Cass," he whispered, tears forming in his eyes, "It's really you."

"Please don't cry," Castiel murmured as Sam continued to hug him.

"But it's you," Sam continued, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "It's really you."

"Sam," Castiel said. "I can't... breathe."

Sam relinquished his hold on Castiel. "Does Dean know?"

Castiel nodded. "He knows."

Shortly thereafter, Dean appeared; standing outside of the Impala.

He opened the back door and got in.

"Dean," Sam said abruptly. "You knew Cass was alive and you didn't tell me...?"

"Hey," Dean replied, "I didn't know myself until last night."

"You still should've called me or something," Sam said, far from happy. "And I can't believe your letting Cass ride shotgun."

"Believe it. When your best-friend comes back from the dead, he's entitled to ride in the front seat for a while."

"Point," Sam remarked. "So where are we headed? The Hunter's Club?"

Dead nodded. "Yes, but I don't think Cass should go."

"Dean," Castiel began. "We've already been over this. I'm going."

"Sam, the 'angel' who killed the girl was Jack Kline," Dean said to Sam.

Sam blinked and looked at Castiel. "I... agree with Dean... Maybe it'd be better if you set this one out, Cass..."

"No," Castiel said sternly. "I'm going."

Dean said, "You don't have your powers anymore. It's not safe."

"Cass," Sam began. "Are you turning human again?"

Castiel shook his head. "No. I still have my grace, but as for my powers, well... I think Jack warded me to keep from using them..."

"And yet you continue to take up from him," Dean said with a huff.

"I'm still coming with you."

Sam sighed the sigh of defeat. "Fine," he said, and then turned on the ignition. "What I want to know is why Jack would target some random shifter. It just... doesn't make any sense."

Dean huffed. He couldn't tell Sam the truth... not yet, anyway. "I think it has something to do with me..." he admitted.

Sam furrowed his brow. "Why would Jack kill some random shifter over you?"

Dean took a moment to think. "I can only think that it was 'Jack's' way of getting back at me."

"That still doesn't make any sense," Sam muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "But, he did raise Cass from the dead, so..."

"He didn't exactly 'raise' me," Castiel said, honestly. "He... 'woke me up', so to speak..."

"But still," Sam said, looking at Dean through the rearview mirror, "Like I said, he can't be that bad..."

"He's not," Castiel stated bluntly. "What he did, he did for me... so it's my fault."

"But why would Jack kill some random shifter over you?" Sam asked Castiel.

"Because..." Castiel sighed, loudly. "Because he wanted me to meet with Dean before the shifter arrived."

"Weird," Sam said under his breath. "And what did you and Dean do? Just talk all night instead of letting me know you were alive?"

Abruptly and without thought, Castiel replied, "Dean and I had sexual intercourse last night."

Sam slammed on the breaks. "What?!"

"Damnit, Cass," Dean said with disproval. "Did you just have to broadcast it like that?"

"What the hell?" Sam said to the both of them. "Dean, you actually slept with Cass?"

"Yeah," Dean said, feeling utterly humiliated.

"But, I mean... why?" Sam asked them both.

"Because Dean's in love with me," Castiel said simply.

"Oh my God," Sam said as he cranked up the car again. "Dean, how you could, you know... have sex with an angel? With Cass of all people?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Dean said, feeling embarrassed. "It's none of your business."

"Yes, it is," Sam said, angry. "This is my brother and my best-friend we're talking about here. Did you really think you could just hide something like that from me of all people?"

"Well," Dean huffed. "Maybe if Cass didn't have such a big mouth."

"Dean said I had a velvet throat," Castiel said absentmindedly, as if it wasn't personal, as if he didn't know any better.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed out of a mixture of shock and horror. "You made Cass go down on you?!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yes, okay? But I didn't know it was him at the time. And Cass, stop talking about what happened between us last night. It's private."

"What do you mean you didn't know it was him?" Sam asked Dean.

Dean exhaled a deep breath of air. "The shifter... I... I had sex with her while she was in Castiel's form the night before last. After we were... done... I asked her to come back the following night. I heard a knock on the door and saw Cass, thinking it was the shapeshifter from the night before, and then I... I..." He couldn't bring himself to say anymore.

"It really hurt," Castiel said to Sam, and Dean just wanted to die. Sam, too. Castiel went on to say, "But it felt better later. Dean said it was the best sex of his life."

"Cass!" Dean said loudly. "Shut up!"

"Too much information," Sam replied, sickened. He could only imagine the things Dean had done to Cass the previous night, and he didn't want to think about it.

"I don't understand," Castiel said sincerely. "I thought humans were supposed to talk about sex. I've heard Dean talk about it in the past a lot, and I saw the kind of webpages he went to. He really likes Asian women, I think."

"Ugh," Sam sputtered. "Again, Cass... too much information."

"We're here," Dean said, just wanting to say anything to get away from the current subject.

"I'll pull up around back," Sam said to them. "Dean, I think you should stay in the car. With Emily dead, you're probably their number one suspect."

"No, I'm going in," Dean replied.

"Me, too," Castiel agreed.

"Fine," Sam sighed. "Just... don't get carried away in there, and Dean, watch out for weapons. I'll bet any one of those shifters in there would pull a gun out on you without giving it a second thought."

Without another word, Sam, Dean, and Castiel got out of the car.

Castiel shut the door. "What is this place...?"

When Dean didn't answer, Sam did it for him.

"It's a strip club with prostitutes."

"Oh," Castiel said simply. "Dean took me to one of these places once before while you two were estranged. I was kicked out for inappropriate behavior with one of the women. Dean said it was the most fun he'd had in years."

"Dean, you never told me about that," Sam stated.

"Cass," Dean began. "Just... stop talking, okay?"

Castiel tilted his head to the side and shrugged, as though he still didn't understand the meaning of the word 'privacy'. Unfortunately Cass's utter naivety was part of what Dean loved so much about him.

The trio entered the club through the back door.

One of the employees—a young looking female shifter—eyed Dean first thing. From behind a desk, she pulled out a gun and aimed it at Dean.

Dean held his hands up, while Sam meanwhile pulled out a gun on the shifter.

"Drop it," Sam said seriously.

She shook her head at them. "No, he murdered Emily. She was my best-friend."

"That wasn't me," Dean insisted.

"Then who did?"

Dean sighed deeply. "It was Lucifer's son, Jack Kline..."

The shifter lowered her gun. "I've heard stories about him, but I always thought they were rumors."

"No," Castiel said to her. "He's real, he's here, and he's extremely powerful."

"Castiel...?" the shifter said in disbelief. "I thought Lucifer killed you?"

"He did," Castiel replied. "But then... Jack brought me back to life..."

"But what would a Nephilim want with Emily...?"

"It's my fault," Castiel said, looking downwards, before he once again made eye-contact with the shifter. "He's been following me."

"But I've never even seen you here before."

"It... may have had something to do with me, too," Dean said admittedly.

Beth appeared. "Dean Winchester? What the hell? You have some nerve coming back here after what you pulled!"

"He didn't do it," the female shifter behind the desk said to the waitress. "It was a Nephilim."

"I don't think we're really getting anywhere with this," Castiel said, looking at Dean.

"Castiel...?" Beth said, astonished. "But-B

ut you were dead!"

"I was resurrected," Castiel replied honestly.

"Dean," Sam said, "Take Cass and go inside. Find out if any of the hunters or shifters here have seen anything or anyone strange in the past several days. I'll go talk to the manager and see what they know."

Dean and Castiel nodded.

"Alright," Dean agreed.

When Dean and Castiel entered the club, the various shifters eyed Dean as though they were afraid.

"Relax!" Dean yelled over the music. "We come in peace!"

Every hunter in the damn building eyed Dean and Castiel, looking shocked as hell.

"Dean?" Aiden said to him. "What's going on?"

"Oh, hi Aiden," Dean said, giving the young hunter a brief hug. "Long time no see."

"I'm Castiel," the angel said to Aiden.

"Yeah, sure," Aiden said with a smile. "You two are both legendary. But Castiel, I heard you were dead?"

Castiel was getting tired of repeating himself. "I was resurrected by Lucifer's son."

Aiden appeared baffled. "You mean Jack?"

"You've heard of him?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you kidding me? Every hunter knowns about Lucifer's Nephilim. We're all gunning to kill him."

"No," Castiel said sternly. "He's not the same as Lucifer. He's good."

Aiden laughed out loud at Castiel, making the angel somewhat angry. "You two look like you could use a drink. C'mon, I'm buying."

"I won't say no to that," Dean said, smiling.

"Dean," Castiel said, gripping at Dean's arm. "We don't have time for this. We have to find Jack before something else bad happens."

"Relax, Cass," Dean said to him. "We can drink and question the people here. Like they say, never trust a non-drinker in a bar."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "People say that?"

"Well look who it is," a foreign voice said from behind Dean and Castiel.

They turned around.

It was Max Baines.

"Dean Winchester," Max said, giving Dean a hug and patting him on the back. "It's great to see you again. And... who is your friend here?" He looked Castiel up and down. Then he ran his hand down Castiel's arm in a sexy manner.

"You must be a shifter," Max said to Castiel. "You're much too beautiful to be human."

"I'm not human," Castiel said in response. "I'm an angel of the Lord."

"You'd be an angel no matter what you were."

Dean frowned at Max. "Will you please stop flirting with my friend? How much have you had to drink, anyway? And what about Alicia?"

"Alicia's at a motel nearby. She doesn't like coming here."

"How is she?" Dean asked Max.

Max suddenly appeared... disturbed. "I... don't want to talk about her... But I would like to talk to your angel friend..."

"Why don't we all sit down and hang out a little?" Aiden said, patting Dean a single time are the arm.

"Alright," Dean replied, though he was none too happy when Max opted to sit beside Castiel. "Aiden, you still buying those rounds?"

Aiden nodded. "Sure thing," he said, sitting down next to Max. "Pick your poison, guys."

"Tequila," Dean said as though he couldn't wait to drink.

"Red wine," Max replied.

"How about you, Castiel?" Aiden said to the angel. "Everclear?"

"Uh, no," Dean replied with disapproval clear in his voice. "I don't think he should be drinking in this place at all."

Castiel frowned at him. "I can drink just as well as anyone. I'll have tequila, too."

"And I'm having a shot of Vox," Aiden said with a smile. He signaled one of the waitresses and then placed his order.

"Say, uh," Dean began, looking at Aiden. "You haven't seen anything, well, 'strange' here in the past couple of days, have you?"

Aiden furrowed his brow. "Define strange?"

"Well," Dean continued, trying to find the right words. "You know, anything out of the ordinary, or someone acting strange here."

Aiden laughed. "Yeah, all the time."

Dean sighed. "What about you, Max?"

"Well," Max began. "There was this teenager hanging around here yesterday, but he wasn't drinking or hanging around with any of the strippers. He just sat there and stared, and I swore I saw..." He laughed. "Forget about it."

"No," Castiel stated. "What did you see?"

Max shook his head. "I swore his eyes flashed gold when I looked at him. He smiled at me but I ignored him. He was way too young for me to be checking out. Plus, he was creepy."

"Bingo," Dean said, sighing with relief. Finally, a solid lead. "What else can you remember about this guy?"

Max thought back to the day before. "Hmm... not much, really. Like I said, I didn't speak to him. No one did that I saw. He just hung around for an hour or so after happy hour and then went out the back door."

"Max," Dean said in a serious voice. "Think hard. Have you seen him since yesterday?"

"No, I haven't," Max replied, thanking the waitress when his drink arrived.

Castiel looked down at the bar. "I didn't order three shots."

The waitress shook her head. "No, cutie, one is from the blonde hunter at the bar and the other is from a man by the stage."

Max took a drink from his wineglass, and then set it down on the tabletop. He ran his hand sensually down Castiel's arm again. "Bring him another drink from me."

"Uh, thank you?" Castiel said, appearing dumbfounded while Max continued to caress his arm.

Dean drank his shot and then slammed it down on the table hard enough to gather everyone's attention. "Max," he shook his head, "No."

"Wait a minute..." Max smiled slyly. "You two are together!"

"What?" Aiden said, sounding shocked. "But Dean is practically a legend with the ladies, and I didn't think angels had sex at all."

"Generally most of us are asexual, though we can have sex through our vessels if we have the desire to," Castiel replied after taking his first shot. Then he had another, and another.

"And have you had the 'desire' to with Dean?" Max asked the angel.

"Hey," Dean cut in. "Stop asking Cass all of these questions. He doesn't understand how to answer them."

Max continued to smile. "I have a great gaydar, Dean."

"We haven't done anything," Castiel said quickly. "We're not... 'together'..."

"If that's true, how about you and I get together?" Max asked him.

"I don't understand," Castiel replied. "Are you trying to persuade me to have sexual intercourse with you?"

"Can we all please change the subject to something a little less gay?" Aiden said, looking across the table and into Max's eyes.

"Verum nunc," Max said to Castiel, his eyes flashing purple.

"Dean's in love with me," Castiel replied, unable to control himself against Max's truth spell. "We had sex for the first time last night. He thought I was a shapeshifter from this club. He pinned me to the wall from behind and then violated me. I wanted it to stop so badly, but without my powers, Dean was easily able to overpower me. After he was... done and unpinned from the wall, he threw me down on the bed and—"

"Max, what the hell?!" Dean shouted. "What did you do to him?!"

"A truth spell," Max replied, though he was no longer smiling. "You forced yourself on him? That's sick."

"I didn't force anyone," Dean replied angrily. "I thought it was a shapeshifter who said she was cool with me having rough sex."

"So let me get this straight," Max began. "You came here and hired a shapeshifter to impersonate your dead friend during sex?"

Aiden's jaw had dropped. "Woah, that's uh, that's... Okay, I don't even know."

Castiel drank another shot. Then he put his index and forefingers together and touched Max on the forehead.

Nothing happened.

"I forgot," Castiel whispered. "I forgot that I'd lost my powers..."

"What was that?" Max asked Castiel. "Trust me beautiful, I don't mind you touching me at all, but what was with the forehead thing?"

Dean sighed and looked at Castiel. "I think we'd better be going. Let's see if Sam's had any luck. But just, damn, Cass... with hunters here like Max and Aiden and Walt... every hunter in the whole United States is going to know about what went on between us last night."

"I'm sure they have enough on their plates to deal with. I doubt any hunter would care so much about your sex life."

"Yeah, well, I hope you're right... rumors about my being 'gay' are the last thing I need right now.

Castiel shook his head lightly. "Let us just find Sam. Maybe he's found something else on Jack."

000

"Run that back again for me."

"Okay, but I don't know what it is you thought you saw."

Sam studied the monitor. "Wait. Right,"—he pressed a key on the keyboard—"there."

"In case you haven't forgotten, this club is full of shapeshifters. All of our eyes glow on camera."

"Not like this," Sam said to the club manager. "His eyes appear amber."

"Sam," Dean said, having entered to office. "You find anything?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I did. A teenage boy with amber eyes. It's definitely Jack."

Castiel walked up, leaned down and looked at the monitor. "That's him," he said honestly. "That's... that's Jack."

"And he killed one of my girls?" the manager asked.

Sam nodded. "It would seem so."

The manager nodded likewise. "I'll have security keep an eye out for him."

Sam looked to Dean and Castiel. "Did either of you get anything?"

Dean nodded, too. "Yes. Max Baines said he saw a strange teenage boy with glowing, golden eyes hanging around here yesterday shortly before Emily was murdered in the parking lot out back. Max said the guy didn't drink or even talk to anyone. He said Jack was just... well, I think he was just waiting for something, if you know what I mean..."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "He killed the shifter and then paid a visit to Cass's gravesite."

"But where do you think he is?" Castiel asked Sam.

Sam shrugged and sighed. "I really don't know."

"Oh I think he'll turn up," Dean said to the both of them. "He's somehow... 'tethered' to Cass. I think that where Cass goes, Jack will go..."

"If that's true, he's probably close by..." Sam said eerily.

"Or he could be any one of those customers out there," Dean continued. "I'm sure a Nephilim with Lucifer's power wouldn't have trouble camouflaging himself just like a shifter."

"Then why would he have shown himself here to begin with?" Castiel asked Dean.

"Probably because he wanted us to see him," Sam replied. "Let's go, guys. I have an idea..."

"What kind of idea?" Dean questioned his brother.

"If you're right, and he really is 'tethered' to Cass in some way, then Cass could try 'calling out' to him."

"No," Dean said sternly. "Cass would be risking his life."

Sam looked Dean in the eyes. "Why would Jack raise Cass only to kill him all over again?"

"I don't know," Dean said to Sam, "but this is Lucifer's spawn we're talking about here. He's probably a crazed sociopath."

"No, he's not," Castiel argued. "He was only doing what he thought was best for me... He told me that you were in trouble, Dean, and he took me to you... He said you weren't doing well, that he had been watching over the both of you while I was unable to. He said he would never let any harm come to me..."

"Great, so Lucifer Jr. loves you," Dean said sarcastically. "So let's all just go outside like one big happy family and you can call out to the Devil's son and practically commit suicide."

"Cass," Sam said, looking into Castiel's blue eyes. "It's your call."

Castiel clenched his fists. "I'll do it."

Sam nodded. "Let's go."

The club manager said, "I'll give security a copy of his photograph and let all of my employees and customers know they need to be on the watch for this kid."

"Thanks, but it's not a kid," Dean said, briefly wondering if the manager was human or shapeshifter. Still, either way, he couldn't have cared less at the moment.

The trio headed for the back door.

And then Max spotted them.

"Damnit, not again..." Dean said under his breath.

"Hey Max," Sam said, giving his fellow hunter a brief hug. "How've you been?"

"Alright."

"What about Alicia?"

"She's... fine, I guess..."

Sam eyed the witch curiously. "Is... something wrong?"

Max averted his eyes temporarily. "I... don't really want to talk about it..." He eyed Castiel. "Hey blue eyes. Want another drink?"

"I'd have to consume a massive amount of alcoholic beverages in order to merely tolerate your presence," Castiel replied nonchalantly. "You put a spell on me last time we spoke."

"Sorry about that. It won't happen again."

"Let's just go already," Dean said to Sam and Castiel.

"Will I see you again?" Max smiled at the angel.

"Perhaps," Castiel replied. "I can sense that you're a very good person, Max—warm and kind and self-sacrificing—I just don't wish to engage in sexual intercourse with you."

"Mmm, that's too bad..."

"Okay, enough flirting," Dean said to both Max and Castiel. "We gotta go."

000

It was later in the evening now.

Dean and Sam went to their Impala, opening the trunk as they gathered weapons of all kinds.

"I won't let you hurt him," Castiel said to the brothers.

"Fine," Dean replied in an angry voice. "Me and Sam will do it for you."

"No," Castiel snapped back. "You'll leave him alone, and if you don't, I will leave you," he said to Sam and Dean. "I'll find Jack and we'll go someplace that you'll never be able to find us."

"What, so now you're blackmailing us?" Dean asked the angel.

Castiel stared at Dean intently. "Absolutely."

"Fine," Dean said, putting his machine gun back into the trunk before he shut it thereafter.

Castiel looked up and closed his eyes. "Jack, please hear me. I only what's best for you, just as you said you wanted the best for me. Please, answer me..."

A minute went by.

Another minute went by.

And another.

"Cass," Dean said, sounding relived. "It looks like he's not coming."

"No," Castiel said as the wind picked up. Dirt and old newspaper and trash flew by, and Castiel turned around, spinning to the left and then to the right, over and over again.

"Castiel..." the angel heard in his head.

"Jack...?" he asked, looking none too thrilled. He had always hated it when he heard voices in his head.

"Cass," Dean began worriedly. "What's going on with you?"

"Castiel, Father... I know what you want, what you all want. Last night I made sure Dean had you, just as you'd fantasized, just as he'd fantasized. Now it's time for the other person you love to have you."

"Turn around," Jack's voice in Castiel's head said.

He did as he had been instructed, turning around.

Surely enough, he saw Jack.

Jack looked behind Castiel, to where Sam and Dean were standing in front of their Impala.

Then he looked at Dean specifically. "Did you enjoy yourself last night, Dean Winchester?"

And then he looked at Castiel. "Did you enjoy yourself, too? Was it everything you'd ever dreamed it would be?"

"Shut up!" Dean spat, looking at Jack as though the boy was completely insane. "Leave Cass alone!"

"I'd never hurt Castiel," Jack replied, earnestly. "He's my father."

"Hey," Dean said furiously. "Cass doesn't belong to you."

"Why?" Jack asked Dean with a somewhat dark smile plastered upon his face. "Because he already belongs to you?"

"Jack," Castiel said to the Nephilim, "Just come with us and we can try to reason this out..."

"Perhaps," Jack responded. "But right now, I'm going to give you the rest of what you wanted as a reward for taking care of my mother, of me."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about, Jack?"

"You had your time with Dean," Jack said, looking at Dean. Then his dark eyes slowly moved to the right. He looked at Sam. "Now it's time for your turn."

"What?!" Dean exclaimed. "No. No, that's never going to happen."

"Even if we are friends on some level, I don't care about you, Dean Winchester," Jack said to Dean. "I only care about Castiel. You weren't his only fantasy, Dean. He's thought of Sam in that way, too."

Castiel's mouth opened, but no words would come out. He felt angry and afraid... embarrassed, humiliated... betrayed...

"I don't want to be with Cass like that," Sam said firmly. "And you can't make me do something like that."

"Actually," Jack said, and then snapped his fingers, "I can..."

Almost instantly, both Sam and Castiel fell to the ground, appearing perplexed and shocked and terrified.

And then Jack snapped his fingers again, before Sam and Castiel vanished into thin air.

"You son of a bitch." Dean hissed. "What the hell did you do to them?!"

Jack raised his right hand, looking as though he was going to smite Dean. Instead, Dean fell to his knees and felt a terrible feeling.

Dean felt as though he would literally die if he didn't have sex, there, then and now.

"Oh-Oh God," Dean said, afraid. "What-What did you do to me? Please, make it stop!"

Jack waved his hand again, relieving Dean from that terrible, horrible feeling.

Dean slowly got up.

Jack said, "If you think that was bad, imagine how your brother and Castiel feel at the moment... all alone, with no one to have sex with them apart from each other..."

"You're sick..." Dean said, appearing horrified.

"I told Castiel that he and Sam had one hour to orgasm via penetration of some sort or that they would die from the sheer agony of it all."

"Tell me where you sent them, you piece of shit," Dean said demandingly.

Jack smiled at him. "At your 'Men of Letter's bunker. If you hurry you may be able to stop them... in the act."

"I'll kill you," Dean said to Jack. "I'm going to kill you."

"No, you're not," Jack replied boastfully. "What you are going to do is get into your car, drive as fast as you can, and break the door down before you try to stop Sam and Castiel."

"Why the hell are you doing this?!" Dean shouted.

"Because I love my father. I'm only trying to give him what he wants, what he's wanted for years."

"You don't love Castiel," Dean said, feeling angrier than he'd ever felt in his life. "If you did you'd know that Cass would never want this."

"If I recall he didn't want you at first, either," Jack said with that dark smile still on his face. "By the way, ever since you did what you did to Castiel, sexually, he feels that his virtue is gone. He feels that you raped him. He hates himself for having enjoyed it. With his powers gone, he's scared of you—scared that you might try to violate him again—but he loves you so much that he's willing to let you do it again. He's been thinking about it all day long. He wants nothing more than for you to slam him into the wall and fuck him from behind as hard as you can. He's disgusted with himself, and with you..."

Jack's words had made Dean feel sick, disgraced, ashamed...

"He-He thinks that I... I raped him...?"

"Oh yes," Jack replied with a complete lack of emotion. "When you had him up against the wall, he tried to smite you but found that he couldn't because his powers were gone."

"Why did you bring Cass to me in the first place if you knew something like that could've happened to him...?"

"Because he loves you. I wanted him to have you, for you to have him... you haven't been inside of his mind. I've been in all of yours, and you've all had some rather disturbing thoughts about one another."

Dean suddenly remembered Castiel and Sam, what Jack had done to them.

Dean pointed at him. "I'm still going to kill you someday. This isn't over."

He opened the door to his Impala, and then turned around to see Jack was gone...

He knew he didn't have long, that he had to get back to the bunker as quickly as he possibly could.

Dean turned on the ignition and took off, speeding the whole while to the bunker...

000

A/N: Thanks for reading!

No flames, please!

Also, I already have the next chapter of this mostly done, but I need to go over it again before posting it.