"Dean-"

"Why are we even discussing this? We should be out there looking for him!"

"I know you want to. Hell, I want to, but he could be anywhere and we can't just start searching randomly."

"Well, I'm not just going to sit here," Dean snapped, grabbing his coat and heading for the door.

Sam stood up so fast, his chair flew out behind him.

"And where are you going to start? Europe? Africa? Dean, he could be anywhere and you can't just get in your car and hope to find him in some forest two towns over!"

Sighing, Dean conceded to his younger brother and threw his coat back down. Where the Hell could he be?

...

"You okay there, darlin'?"

Castiel looked up at the heavily made up, middle aged woman stood before him. She looked tired and worn but she had a kind face and a caring demeanour.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," he replied.

"You sure?"

"I am fine," he said more firmly than his previous response.

The woman stared for a few moments then turned and, with a shrug, disappeared into the backroom of the Laundromat. It was an old building- run down and in need of another coat of paint- and the machines were old and rusty. Castiel leant his head back to rest on a machine and felt his eyelids dropping. This had been concerning him for the past couple of hours now- the feeling of fatigue, the hunger and the thirst. He sighed and removed Jimmy's old trench coat. There was blood dripping down the lapels.

Castiel tried to scrub it off with his thumb to no avail. After a couple of minutes, he was interrupted by a voice behind him.

"Y'know, you could try a machine, sweetie."

...

"Damn it, would you stop pacing!"

Dean started and turned to face Kevin who was sat at the table behind him. But, when Kevin saw his restless features, his shoulders dropped and his angry expression relaxed.

"I'm sorry. I just... I just think that there's nothing we can do yet. You should just sit down and try to relax."

"Relax?" Dean laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I'll just sit down and relax. Great advice, Kevin."

"I only meant-"

"No, I know what you meant. But, in case you haven't noticed, I can't. Cas is out there somewhere and all we're doing is sitting here- we're not even trying to find him! I'm not relaxing until we get a result. Until we get any result. I don't care. I just want something."

Kevin looked up at him nervously.

"Where's Sam?"

"Resting."

"Shouldn't he be-"

"No," Dean responded, sitting down heavily at the table. "Like you said, we can't do anything."

...

"You want somethin' to drink?"

"No, I- Er... that would be nice. Thank you," he added quickly, realising how thirsty he was.

Shelly returned promptly and gave him a glass of water.

"So, where are you headin'?"

Castiel gulped down the water then wiped his mouth on his shirt. "I don't know."

"You homeless?"

"I don't have any place to go."

"Don't you have any family or friends?"

"No-" But Castiel remembered what Dean had always said. We're family, we need you. I need you. "I have one friend but I don't know how to reach him."

"Well then you'll need the operator. Hold on, I'll get you my phone."

...

Sam placed a sandwich in front of Dean.

"You haven't eaten in at least a day. You need something."

He removed his legs from resting on a chair and pushed the empty beer bottle aside. Before he could pick up his food, a tune rang out in the bunker. It was familiar but he hadn't heard it in a while- his mobile. He ran to his coat and ripped the device out of the pocket.

"This is-"

"Dean."

Dean's heart nearly stopped. It was Cas.

"Hey. Where the hell are you, man?" he rushed out, trying to remain calm about the situation.

"I am in a... A Laundromat. In Iowa."

" Are you okay?"

"I am fine, Dean."

"What the hell happened? We saw them all."

"Saw who?"

"... The angels, Cas." The line went quiet for a moment and Dean became increasingly worried. "Cas? You okay."

"I saw them too."

There was a pause.

"Okay, well, keep talking. Tell me what street you're on and I'll come get you."

...

Castiel was rooting through clothes in a lost-and-found, due to his trench coat taking a while in the machine, until he found a coat that resembled Dean's. He smiled slightly at the garment and tugged it on. It was comfortable and warm and he stood for a moment just holding the coat together.

"Honey, I'm closing for the night now."

"You can't."

"I'm sorry?"

"My friend. He's on his way. He'll be here soon. I told him to come here."

Shelly, the woman who had spent the past six hours hovering over him and trying to establish a conversation, regarded him with pity.

"Sorry, but I-"

"Please," Castiel muttered. "I need to wait here. Just like he said."

She sighed then nodded. "Okay. I'll wait. I'll be in the back room if you need me," she added politely before backing out and leaving him alone. All conversations between them had worn out and nothing else could be discussed.

He turned his attention back to the bin filled with clothes and started to sort through women's clothes to men's clothes. A few moments later, the bell at the front door rang, signalling someone had come through. Castiel turned and relief the comfort washed over him. It was Dean.

...

"Hey, Cas," he whispered, looking at the former angel up and down.

"Hello, Dean," he replied, neither of them moving any closer than where they were standing.

"How're you doing?"

"I assured you on the phone, I'm fine."

Castiel's monotonous words hadn't changed but there was something off about him. His eyes bore more emotion and expression than they ever had done and his body language was less stoic.

"So, what happened?" Dean asked, braving the topic.

"What are you referring to?"

"The angels. We saw them fall and-"

"I know they fell," Cas snapped.

Dean felt nervous now and his gut instinct was to drop the subject until they got back to the bunker. But he couldn't stop himself. Something was wrong.

"What happened to you, Cas? Where did you go?"

Castiel thought. He recalled waking up and finding himself in the middle of the forest. He remembered looking up at the sky as his brothers and sisters were cast out of Heaven with tears down his face but, before that, nothing.

"I don't remember."

...

"You what?" Dean asked, stepping closer.

"I can't remember where I-" Castiel stopped and brought a hand to his forehead as a painful memory slashed through his brain. Castiel was lying in a brightly lit room as he stood over him, ready to make a move. "A man," he murmured, clutching his head in his hands.

Dean rushed closer, holding Cas up by his elbows then manoeuvring him to sit down. "Metatron?" he asked.

Just from that word, everything came back. Meeting the man for the first time then the trials of getting every angel back into Heaven so they could spend years correcting themselves. The trials: killing a nephilim, the bow of a cherub and...

"No."

"Cas-"

"NO!" he shouted."NO!" He stood up violently. "NO! NO!" He turned and punched the machine behind him but, instead of making a dent, pain coursed through his hand and blood poured from his knuckles.

"Cas! Hey! Let me-"

"Get away from me!" he exclaimed, pushing Dean backwards by his shoulders several steps.

"Cas-"

"He took it," he breathed, repeating the phrase. "He took it."

"What happened, Cas?" Dean asked delicately, stepping forwards slowly again to where Cas was stood. His hands were balled into fists and his eyes shut too tight with his breathing uneven.

Gradually, Castiel opened his eyes again. They were filled with tears as he unscrewed his fists and slumped down to the floor with his back to a machine. His forehead rested in his palms.

"Metatron took my grace. It was the final trial to cast all the angels from Heaven. I'm... I'm..."

"Human," Dean whispered.

...

Castiel finally broke. On top of everything he had ever done wrong to Heaven, Earth and Dean, this dropped on him with a weight he had never felt before. Tears tracked down his cheek and, it wasn't until he was finally quiet, Dean moved. He sat next to the fallen angel- his fallen angel- and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Cas leaned on Dean, resting his head in the crook of his neck and smelling whiskey and leather.

"This isn't your fault, Cas."

The statement hung in the air.

"I mean it."

Instead of nodding or keeping to himself, Castiel did something Dean did not expect. He started laughing. Not hearty, giddy laughter. Harsh, humourless and bitter laughter.

"Cas, what-"

"You just don't get it," he said, removing himself from Dean and standing up, facing away and still laughing.

Dean followed. "What don't I get?"

"I have expelled my own brothers and sisters from Heaven. I aided the traitor! It is as much my fault as his. Do not defend me, Dean."

"You didn't know what he was doing! You couldn't have helped it!" he protested.

"None of that matters to the thousands upon thousands of angels who are now human and devoid of Heaven's assistance and have no idea what to do next!"

"You can set the record straight again soon! We'll fix this, we'll find something-"

"Not this time, Dean," Cas replied. His tone was blunt.

Fear rose in Dean at the implication that Cas was about to leave. He knew that, now human, he couldn't teleport away from him but it scared him nonetheless. Fear turned to anger in a second and he surged forward, grabbing Cas by the lapels of an old coat, and slammed him into a machine behind him. He held him there and spoke.

"You're not going to leave again!" he snapped. "I've just got you back. You're not going off by yourself. We're going to find a way to fix this. We'll get Metatron, kill him if we have to, and get all the angels back into Heaven. I don't know how but we'll do it. There's got to be a way. We just need you with us. I need you with me." He paused and breathed out. "Please."

Castiel swallowed and stared at Dean as his hands rested on top of the calloused ones gripping his coat, blood drying on one set of knuckles. Dean's words had shocked him into sense and he nodded.

"I'm sorry."

Dean's shoulders relaxed and his released his hold on the coat, bringing his hands to stay one on his shoulder and the other on his neck. Gently, Dean grazed his thumb down Castiel's neck in a soothing motion.

"I'm sorry for getting angry," he uttered. "I just... I don't want you to leave me again."

Cas held the hand at his neck and squeezed it gently. "I won't."

"Come back to the bunker with me."

"Dean... my brothers and sisters will be looking for me..."

"So?"

"They'll hunt any person who is with me."

"We'll deal with it. Together."

Castiel's lips curved up into a smile.

"You know, honey, I've waited long eno- Oh."

Both men turned to see Shelly standing in the doorway to the back room looking between them.

"Oh... Sorry. Am I... Did I interrupt?" she asked.

Dean chuckled, shook his head and said, "No. We were just leaving. C'mon, Cas," he added, throwing his arm around the former angel and exiting the building.

...

Once they were outside, they said goodbye to Shelly who walked off down the road. It was pitch dark outside, aside from the few street lights that lit up the lane, and Dean yawned.

"Are we going back now?" Castiel asked.

Dean stretched back and looked up at the night sky. He then looked back at Cas. "Not now. We should book a room for the night. Have you slept?" Castiel shook his head. "Alright, well, we'll get a place. Come on." He motioned to the Impala.

"Dean," Cas muttered. Dean turned to face him. "Thank you."

"It wasn't a problem, Cas."

"I mean for everything," Cas stated, closing the gap between them with one full step.

"It's... uh..."

But Dean didn't get to finish his sentence. Cas's lips were on his own and he exhaled into his mouth. The initial surprise wore off when they seemed to fit together perfectly. Dean had his back to the Impala whilst his hands kicked in and then moved to cup the fallen angel's jaw gently but firmly. Castiel moved against him and ran his tongue over Dean's lips which made him pant against the soft ones on his own. They broke apart soon after but still rested their foreheads together.

"Are we going to find a place?" Cas asked, more calmly than he looked with his cheeks flushed a deep pink and his lips a little swollen.

"Yeah..." Dean nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, let's go."

As Cas got in the Impala, Dean dragged his thumb over his own lips and scratched at the corner of his mouth. He could still feel Cas's stubble against his and, with the promise of something more in a hotel room, he practically jumped into his car and stepped hard on the accelerator, flashing a grin at Cas.