Thank you! Thank you! Thank you to everyone who left a review for the first chapter. They all put a smile on my face. And of course those who followed and Favourited

And happy anniversary to my parents who are celebrating twenty-two years! It's a happy time in our household, which is why you are all getting this chapter early.

Thank you again to my amazing beta. You are so awesome!

Oh! And two things I forgot to mention in my last chapter! I did disclaim that a lot of my information about law enforcements in New York is based on research, but I am Canadian, and so their might be a combination of the New York law system and the Canadian one. Some things I couldn't find for the NYPD, but I knew from my Canadian Law class. So I'm sorry if I offend anybody.

Another is the precincts Dean and Cas work at—23—is not in its accurate spot (East Harlem). Surrender in Blue takes place in Lower Manhattan, which is actually where 7th Precinct is, but 23 is my favourite number, so I am taking some liberties here. Also, the boundary lines of "23" is a combination of 7th Precinct and 9th Precinct. Again, just taking some liberties.


"Three shifts in a row. God, I'm going to be so fucked up after this," Charlie complained as she walked into the precinct with Dean.

Dean chuckled and followed the woman over to the changing rooms. "Don't act like you haven't done this before, Bradbury."

"Yeah, and every time it fucks me up," Charlie bit back. Dean gave a halfhearted eye-roll. "I need my sleep. Not everyone can run on four hours of sleep like you can, asshole. Anyway," she sighed, "I'll see you outside." She huffed in annoyance and stalked into the women's changing room.

Dean chuckled again and made his way into the men's room.

It was the first night shift in his rotation for this month—they weren't his favourite shifts, but he handled them a lot better than some of the other officers (Charlie) did.

"Glad to see you finally showed up. Cutting it kind of close, don't you think?" Castiel turned and smirked smugly at Dean when he stopped at his locker. The little shit knew why he was almost late—it was all his fault after all.

There were a few other officers in the room, so Dean couldn't respond the way he wanted. It would be too easy for them to pick up on what Cas had meant.

Castiel's smirk grew wider when Dean fiddled with his lock, refusing to answer him. "What's the matter, Winchester? Silent for once?"

A couple of officers nearby snickered, while some rolled their eyes at the two's familiar theatrics. True to Castiel's words, it had become a known thing throughout 23 that Dean and Cas couldn't go ten minutes without one taking a shot at the other.

Dean just smirked impishly instead and leaned closer to Castiel's ear, lowering his voice so no one else could hear. "We both know how untrue that is." He swept his tongue over the shell of his husband's ear. He heard the sharp inhale and flicked his tongue once more. Thankfully, the angle he had his head tilted at blocked them from view.

Dean pulled back and raised his eyebrows when he saw Castiel's eyes narrow and the light blush staining his cheeks. He winked and pulled his t-shirt over his head as Castiel huffed and walk out the room.

Dean had just finished changing when Chuck came barging into the room.

"Dean, hurry up!" he snapped, looking a little frazzled. "briefing is about to start, and if you miss it, you know Crowley will put you at a desk today."

Dean glanced at Chuck for a second; the officer looked as if he'd had one too many energy drinks, or was in serious need of a Xanax. "Calm down, dude. I'm coming." The officer closed his locker and followed the agitated man out of the room. Sure enough, Crowley was standing up at the front of the assembly of officers, about to begin just as Chuck and Dean slipped into the room.

"I told you," the officer grumbled and moved to the sill at the back of the room, where a couple of other men stood.

"Cool it, Shurley. We made it, so calm down. You're going to wind yourself up and we haven't even started yet." Dean leaned against the ledge, next to Chuck. He could see Castiel sitting at one of the tables on the left side of the room. He was fiddling with his notepad when Kevin took the seat next to him. He smiled politely, but didn't engage Kevin in a conversation.

"And I swear if I am ever partnered with anoth-" Dean had realized Chuck was still talking—he didn't even know what he was saying—complaining about.

"All right you insufferable lot, let's get started," Crowley announced, gaining everyone's attention at once.

Dean rolled his eyes at Crowley's opening. It may be unconventionally brash, but the staff sergeant didn't seem to care about who he offended.

"Do you think, just for once, he could start parade without insulting us?

Dean snorted quietly and shook his head. It didn't really bother him. After being at 23's force for eight years—six of which were under Crowley's supervision, he'd gotten used to the Staff Sergeant's rough demeanor—however, some of the rookies found it insulting; Crowley never cared if they complained.

"Assignments are up on the board; I don't want to hear too much bitching," Crowley concluded, closing off with the usual "serve and protect", while adding his own twist of "and do your damn job".

"Does he have to be so crass, though? I mean, I'm sure it doesn't take that much effort for him to be nice." Chuck was still ranting. Normally the man didn't give a second thought to older officer's speeches, but today he seemed at little off beat.

"Dude, it's just Crowley. He hasn't exactly changed in the past five years," Dean argued, not really defending the man's behaviour, but it was no use in wasting breath over the situation. "I doubt he'll change anytime soon." The officer walked up to the board, hoping he wasn't stuck with Cas for this shift.

"It's still unpleasant," Chuck muttered and looked at the board for his assignment.

"Aww, damn it. I'm stuck with Tran on desk duty. Why is it when he's on desk, so am I?"

Dean looked around the room for Kevin. He hoped the kid wasn't in earshot, he didn't want Chuck to add "provide Kevin with therapy" to his list of things to do. The last thing the man needed to do was console a wounded Kevin.

While looking around for the rookie, Dean spotted a familiar mop of dark hair leaving the room, alone. Thank God. Castiel either had desk duty or was partnered with some other officer. Regardless, he wasn't partnered with his husband and that was a relief.

"Winchester!" a soft voice snapped, "you're with me. Let's go."

Dean turned to see Charlie standing at the door, tapping her foot impatiently. "I want to stop for coffee first," the red-head said, when Dean reached the door, "So, let's go. Come on—quickly."

"Maybe I don't have it so bad," Chuck teased as he followed the two officers out of the room.

"Shh, don't let her hear you," Dean warned in a joking tone and lightly swatted his friend on the shoulder, while glancing at the back of Charlie, who was walking a few steps ahead of them. "I'm the one who has to ride with her."

"Well, have fun," Chuck snickered, patting Dean on the back and walked off to the briefing room.


"Do you want me to drive or do you?" Charlie asked once they reached their car.

"Doesn't really matter," Dean shrugged his shoulders and moved to the trunk to place his bag in the compartment.

"You drive," the female officer decided, tossing the keys to her partner. "I want to enjoy my coffee and I can't if I have to worry about protecting your ass."

"You're so thoughtful," Dean's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Can it, asshole," Charlie warned and got into the car, giving Dean a smug smile. "You're chauffeuring."

"I'm not you're damn chauffeur, Bradbury." Dean started the car and pulled out onto the street.

"Fine. Just the coffee shop," Charlie frowned in a mock pout and crossing her arms over her chest.

Dean snorted and lightly rubbed the woman's shoulder as he pulled onto the main road and drove for about five minutes before Charlie spoke again.

"Just turn right up here, after the lights and down until I say so." She directed them to a small cafe stuck between a hair salon and a dry cleaner."

Dean made a noise in the back of his throat once he saw the place. The fluorescent open sign was flickering as if the light was on its last circuit. The windows were stained around the edge, and inside there was only a counter with a few tables and chairs.

"What?" Charlie questioned and cocked an amused eyebrow.

"This place looks about one second away from going bankrupt," Dean gave a half laugh in disbelief, and gestured to the shop. "You don't honestly go here?"

"Hey!" Charlie slapped Dean's hand away. "I actually like this place. Their coffee is cheap and decent; better that that Starbucks shit." She got out of the car but leaned back in to stare at Dean before heading to the coffee shop. "And to prove it, I'm going to buy you one." She gave him a mischievous smile just as he began to protest.

"No, you don't. I don't eve-" Dean was cut off but that slam of the car door.

Charlie came out five minutes later, carrying only one cup.

"I didn't want to waste my money on you," she explained and took a sip of her drink.

"Uh," Dean clicked his tongue at the woman's comment. "I don't know if I should be insulted or relieved."

Charlie just smiled and continued to sip her coffee.

"Why the hell did you even need that?" Dean questioned when Charlie moaned obscenely loud. "We still have nine hours together."

"Exactly," she exclaimed, "I have nine hours stuck with you and I have to stay up until seven."

"We all have to stay up until seven, Charlie. Let it go," Dean replies, drawling out the last part. "Maybe if you thought more positively about your shift than you'd be less surly." He let out a low chuckle and smiled broadly while raising his eyebrows

"Fuck you," Charlie gasped and punched Dean in the shoulder. "Thinking positive won't change the fact that I'm still stuck with you all night." She spat out the last part. Despite the hostile tone, a smile spread across her face and soon both officers were chucking together.


The shift passed quickly. They had pulled someone over because of a broken taillight, and arrested a man for public intoxication. That had been an interesting one, since the man claimed to not have been drinking while drinking simultaneously chugging a Guinness and trying to run off, only to get about two steps before tripping over his own feet.

"I swear I'm going to clock the next drunk who throws up on me," Charlie growled as she walked out of the woman's change room, freshly changed.

They had made it back to the station without out any trouble, save for some rowdy comments from their drunk detainee. The worse had occurred when Charlie led the man out of the car and he proceeded to empty his stomach contents all over the officer's shoes and pants.

"Wouldn't go around advertising that while in uniform and a room full of cops."

As if to prove his point, a senior officer walked by.

"This is the third time this year. Do you know what it's like to have someone's vomit on you? 'Cause I do," Charlie snapped, her eyes were wide and she was gritting her teeth.

The officer was getting herself worked up and Dean couldn't help but chuckle. It was funny to see his friend get as red as her hair.

"Hey," Dean soothed, holding up his hands in defense. "At least you were at the station—you could have been on the middle of a call." He gave her a wide grin, to which his partnered responded in a huff and stormed down the hall, muttering something about "overbearing ass".

Fortunately, for Charlie—and Dean's sanity, the rest of their patrol went without any more hiccups.

By half past seven, Dean was walking out of the station and to the Impala.

The sun was up and far too bright for his liking. Even though some buildings blocked the its light directly, it didn't hide the fact that it was still far too bright, and he would have to close the curtains if he wanted any hope of falling asleep for the day.

When Dean got home, Castiel's car was already parked in its spot. Recently it had become normal for Castiel to arrive home earlier than he did. Ever since they got onto the same group schedule, they'd worked the same shifts, which just increased the fighting. When they had overlapping schedules, there was one or two days where he would get their condo to himself or Cas would. Now, there was no escaping each other or at least until their schedules were switched up again.


When Dean walked through the door, the whole place was dark. Castiel was asleep; judging by the heavy curtains closed over the windows. They had learned soon after moving to the condo that dark curtains were essential if they ever wanted to sleep after their night shifts.

He kicked off his shoes and dumped his bag by the door before shuffling over to the bedroom.

The door was left slightly ajar, allowing him to slip in the room without making too much noise.

Castiel was on his side of the bed, his back facing the door. His clothes were lying in a pile by the closet and soon Dean's joined them as he changed into his sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Dean pulled back the blankets on his side and laid down on the mattress. He tossed around the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. He punched his pillow down, finally settling down when an arm swatted at his chest.

"Find a fucking position and lie down," Castiel grunted, still keeping his back turned to Dean.

"You moved my pillow," was Dean's petulant answer and he could practically feel Castiel's eye roll.

"Are we really going to argue about this?" Castiel's voice was low and muffled from his pillow. "I'm tired, Dean. I just want to sleep, and I can't if you're shaking the bed every damn minute."

"Good night to you too, sunshine," Dean quipped and turned his back to Castiel, purposely shaking the bed more than necessary.

"It's morning," Castiel corrected, causing the Dean to grit his teeth. Of course, his husband had to be literal.


Dean woke a little after one. The loud crash of thunder was almost deafening and yet Castiel still managed to remain passed out.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up. Another crash of thunder echoed around the room and this time Castiel stirred but still did not wake.

Considering the amount to time Dean had been asleep for, he knew there was no hope in trying to get more rest.

He tossed the sheets aside and unceremoniously climbed out of bed. He didn't really care if he woke Cas or not; his husband had done it to him more than once.

He shuffled around the bedroom, picking out a new set of clothes, and then crept into the hallway. He closed the door behind him so he could open the curtains without Castiel bitching at him that the light was too bright.

He went into the bathroom and took a quick shower before changing and heading into the kitchen for something to eat. He opened the curtains first, letting the dull glow dampened by dark clouds fill the room. Despite the sun making an earlier appearance, the dark grey sky hid any evidence that the day had started out brightly.

Castiel woke a little before two. He was still in his sweatpants and an old band t-shirt of Dean's.

"That's mine," was the first thing Dean said when Castiel walked into the kitchen space. He almost felt bad for his rough tone, but then his partner retaliated and any sympathy he may have felt diminished in that instant.

"I was tired," Castiel glanced down at his—Dean's shirt, "it was the first thing I grabbed. If it's of such importance to you, then don't leave it on the fucking floor.

There had been many times when Castiel wearing Dean's clothing was such a turn on, where Dean wanted to do nothing but pin Cas down to the nearest surface and ravish him. Mainly when they were newlyweds and couldn't keep their hands off each other. Now, more times than not, seeing his husband in his clothes just served to piss Dean off.

"Sorry. I thought the maid was coming around today," Dean taunted.

"Don't patronize me." Castiel let out an annoyed huff. "Here, if it's such a big deal to you, take it." He yanked the fabric up and over his head, and tossed it to Dean.

Dean caught the shirt, letting it lay limp in his hand. It really wasn't about the shirt anymore—once he got a reaction out of Cas, he loved it. He didn't know why, but he couldn't help but push his husband's buttons.

"Now you're just being childish." Dean stood up and let his eyes rake over Castiel's bare chest. He noticed the younger man stepped back a bit and a dark smirk spread across Dean's face.

Dean walked around the table and to Castiel, backing him up against the counter. "Dean, not now," he protested, putting a hand against the older man's chest, pushing him back. "I'm not in the mood for this; just let me eat."

Castiel stepped to the side, trying to get around Dean, but the other man extended his arms, trapping him between him and the counter.

"You know," Dean spoke lowly, "I really hate whe-" Castiel let out a frustrated growl and dropped his head back. Just before Dean could finish his sentence, the phone rang, redirecting the man's attention.

Dean pulled back and let out a heavy breath before walking over to the phone lying on the kitchen table.

"What do you want?" He sighed into the phone, omitting a formal greeting. Dean glanced at Castiel from the corner of his eye, and smirked when he saw his husband's reaction.

Castiel rolled his eyes and opened the fridge to get something to eat. Sometimes he seriously questioned Dean's manners, or lack thereof.

"Because your every waking minute is spent studying for that damn test. You don't call unless you need something. Now what?"

Castiel tried to figure out who Dean was talking to. His tone was patronizing, and judging by the banter and topic of school, it was either Sam or Jo.

"Fuck no," Dean exclaimed and took a seat at the table. "I am not coming up to visit. I'm working tonight and I'm not spending a better part of the day watching you study Law for Dummies."

Sam it was then. Ever since the youngest Winchester graduated law school almost two weeks ago, he'd been devoting all his time to studying for the bar.

"Where's Jess? Just ask her. I'm sure she'd love to watch that; you two are shaking up now aren't you?

"I'm taking a break, actually. As for Jess, we are not…living together." The way Sam said 'not living together' made it seem like there was something more. Dean was going to ask, but Sam spoke up again. "And I haven't been spending all my time studying. I'm just reviewing everything," Sam shot back a little hotly.

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed softly. "Right, like you're going to forget everything you've learned in the past three years in two months. Sam you were top of your class. And I thought you couldn't study for this test." He could vaguely remember Sam freaking out over the fact that he was going into the test "blind"—or something like that.

"You can't study like a school exam; you can take prep classes. But I'm not about to half-ass the most important exam of my life. I'm just-"

"Right: you can't study," Dean cut in, sensing his brother was going to work himself into despair. "So just wing it and hope for the best." He knew his joke would not go over well with Sam. He could practically see his brother's "bitch face" when he was met with silence.

"The fact that you're suggesting to someone who just spent over a hundred thousand dollarlas on school to just 'hope for the best'—astonishes me. How the hell did you actually pass school?" Sam's tone was low and disapproving.

"It's all in the attitude, Sammy," Dean declared broadly and smirked when he heard his brother huff. "You'll never get anywhere with that view on life." He ignored Sam's protest to shut up. "And you didn't spend a hundred grand; you got at least half of that in scholarships and grants."

The older Winchester heard a muffled "damn it, Dean" and a humorless chuckle.

"I called because I wanted to just get away from my school work, not to be ridiculed for how fortunate I am. And I know your schedule. I just wanted to know if you want to go out for dinner," Sam bit out and Dean knew he might have crossed a line; he was just taking his frustrations out on his brother.

The officer ran a hand over his face and exhaled loudly. "So, dinner?"

"You're shitty at apologizing," Sam observed. It was something Dean had gotten used to hearing whenever he refused to say sorry, but he knew by his brother's tone that they were putting it behind them. "I could come over there or you could come here—I just figured that it would be easier to go to you, so you didn't have a long drive to work." Sam's voice had returned to its usual calm tone; they were good again.

"Yeah, that's fine," Dean agreed, trying to sound enthusiastic. He ignored Castiel's critical frown. He knew Cas could see through his act. He really didn't want to go out, not because of Sam; he just preferred to stay at home while he was scheduled on night shifts. "Anywhere in particular?"

If Dean had it his way, it would be at a bar & grill, where a burger and fries were the staple. Sam, however, was adventurous and always insisted on trying new things.

"You can pick. I just want to go out."

"That place I took you to after your graduation," Dean decided. He could never remember the name of that place, but he'd gone there before with Victor and Chuck, and they had a great burger.

"We just went there," his brother whined and Dean snorted.

"You said I get to pick, so can it."

"Fine. Whatever," Sam muttered glumly. "Hey," his voice instantly perked up, "Feel free to bring Cas, too." Dean froze; he looked at the other man, who was now seated beside him, reading yesterday's newspaper.

"Um, he can't," Dean lied and stared at Cas warningly.

Castiel frowned and slowly shook his head, disappointed with Dean. It wasn't something uncommon for Dean to decline an invite on "his" behalf, it just wasn't usually in front of him.

This had become a touchy subject lately. Sam was always willing to include Cas in their plans, no matter if it was just going out to run errands. Cas and Sam had always gotten along; particularly from the moment they first met—Sam was also one of the few people to know that Dean and Cas were married, along with Castiel's brothers, as well as Dean and Sam's friends Ellen and Jo, and of course Bobby.

Dean just rolled his eyes and swatted his hand dismissively.

"Why can't he come?" Sam questioned, curiosity laced in his voice. He remembered his brother saying he and Cas were on the same schedule.

"He's busy. Has a bunch of shit to finish before shift."

Castiel looked like he was going to say something—to protest, but instead he just sat back and stared out the window behind Dean. An irritated look was etched on his face. It never bothered him when his husband excluded him in his plans—he had done before it too. However, Dean had never done it in front of him and it pissed him off how Dean acted as if he wasn't within earshot.

"Okay. Okay," Dean said in an appeasing tone, "I'll pass along the invite."

"Fine," Sam's tone was resigned; he knew his brother wasn't going to actually pass along the message. Except on the occasion when Sam physically went to their place or it was celebration, the youngest Winchester rarely saw Dean and Castiel together. Come to think about it, he rarely saw his brother's husband at all. Sure, they were together at his graduation ten days ago, but that was because Sam had insisted that both of them attended.

There was a beep on Sam's end and Dean could hear some shuffling.

"Hey, sorry, but Andy is calling me. Do you mind if I-"

"Yeah. Go ahead. I'll see you tonight." Dean hung up after Sam said a quick "good bye" and a promise to call when he was about to leave.

"So I guess I'm not invited," Castiel said accusatorily as soon as Dean placed the phone on the table. He got up and carried his dishes to the sink.

"Well, I'd prefer if you weren't there. I haven't seen Sam alone since the middle of May, but if you want to come, I'll suck it up." Castiel eyebrows shot up. Whatever response he was expecting from Dean, it wasn't this. He did not expect him to actually give up and let Cas come.

Dean stood and walked out of the room. "Just don't expect it all the time."

Castiel stood in the kitchen silently, only the low rumble of the thunder disturbed his thoughts. He was still trying to figure out if it was something Sam had said to get Dean to actually invite him to come.

He heard some shuffling in the other room and then Dean's footsteps left their bedroom. "I'm going to do some laundry. I have your stuff too," Dean called out, which was followed by a loud slam of the door.


During the time Dean was downstairs, Cas decided to tidy up the house. He vacuumed and wiped down the windows. He placed new towels in the bathroom, Dean having taken the old ones.

He straightened up their photos on the wall. They were mainly family photos of Dean and Sam, Bobby, Ellen and Jo. One with him and his brothers, mainly because he refused to put up any more. Ironically, there were a few from their wedding. The central picture, was Dean and him standing outside of City Hall, smiling and so in love. The next one was Dean and Sam, and then one of Dean and him with Sam, Bobby, Jo and Ellen, as well as Gabriel and Lucifer all at some restaurant for the "reception".

Castiel smiled at the grinning Dean and Cas, only twenty and nineteen at the time—when things were so simple, and they were so eager to just be with each other. They had married just before Dean got too far in the academy, and a year later Cas joined. They had agreed to not disclose their marriage to anyone, mainly because it wasn't exactly legal in many places.

By the time their marriage was considered legal in New York, they were so deep in keeping it a secret, they almost couldn't be bothered to come clean. It had become routine; their life.

Cas gave a sad smile and ran his fingers over their wedding photo. He was so lost in his reminiscing he jumped when the shrill ring of the phone broke through his thoughts.

He started and glanced around, expecting to see Dean, but he was just met with an empty room and a ringing phone. Placing his paper towels on the sideboard, he went to grab the phone off the coffee table.

The caller ID flashed "Sam Winchester". Castiel was hesitant to answer the call—he was probably calling back for his brother, but Dean still hadn't returned from doing the laundry.

The phone rang a couple more time before the answering machine kicked in. Just as Dean's voice started to fill the room, Castiel pressed the "talk" button.

"Sam?" Castiel answered and berated himself a second later—of course, it was Sam.

"Hey, Cas," Sam sounded out of breath, almost flustered. Before Castiel could ask what was wrong, Sam continued. "Would you tell Dean I can't make it tonight? Something just came up and I-I can't-"

Castiel furrowed his brows in confusion when Sam stumbled over his words. "Sam, is everything okay?" This attitude was completely different from only a few minutes ago, when the youngest Winchester had first called, practically begging Dean to go out with him, and now he was cancelling not 30 minutes later.

"I'm fine, Cas. Everything is fine. Will you just tell Dean, please?" Sam's tone made it clear he wasn't in the mood to argue, and he didn't want to discuss it further.

"Yeah, I'll let him know," Castiel reassured. There was a deep sigh of relief on Sam's end and a small "thanks". "Listen, Sam," hetried again; he didn't feel right letting his brother-in-law go in this state, "If you ne-"

"I have to go, Cas. Just let Dean know," Sam cut in and all too quickly, the line went dead.

About 40 minutes after the call, Dean came back, carrying a basket of neatly folded clothes.

"What's wrong with you," Dean questioned when he noticed Castiel's pensive expression. "Did Gabriel send you porn again?" He smirked and chuckled at his own joke.

Castiel looked up at the man quizzically, not really understand the reason behind his humour. "I don't underst-"

"Never mind," Dean brushed off and went into the bedroom.

"Dean?" Castiel followed the man into the bedroom. He stood by the door, watching the older man put away the clothing.

Dean seemed to be ignoring him or was waiting for him to continue because he didn't stop his task or acknowledge Castiel had even spoken.

"Sam called back," Castiel continued, which did catch Dean's attention. "He can't make it tonight. He wouldn't say why, but he sounded really agitated, like something was off."

"That little bitch," Dean muttered—"Forcing me to go out with him and he cancels less than an hour later." He was complaining, completely ignoring the latter part of what Cas had said.

"Aren't you even concerned that something might be bothering him?" Cas started in disbelief. Dean seemed like he couldn't care less that his brother sound distressed.

The older Winchester shrugged and continued to hang up shirts. "Not really. He's probably realized he forgot he had to study about some bill that got passed."

One thing Castiel never understood with the Winchester brothers was their whole insouciant attitude towards each others problems. One of them could have been fired from their job or evicted, and the other would carry on as if there nothing had happened. If he did that to his brothers he'd be reamed a new one for "withholding" information, or for being a "heartless bastard", as Gabriel declared the onetime he didn't show enough interest in his older brother's problem of the week.

"Your lack of concern astonishes me." Castiel frowned; he still didn't understand the Winchesters at times. "I'm just saying, Sam sounded different, not the normal 'I'm stressed over school' routine. Maybe yo-"

"Cas, seriously," Dean interrupted, holding up a hand. "Don't tell me how to be a brother to Sam. If he wants to talk about it, he'll talk to me later."

Dean placed the last shirt in the closet and carried the basket back to the hall, brushing past the dark-haired man, who remained in the bedroom for a couple more minutes.

Cas and Dean spent most of the afternoon both ignoring each other. If Dean was watching TV, Cas either went into their room or took out his laptop.

When Castiel asked what Dean wanted for dinner, the man just grunted and said he didn't care, which resulted in him making a chicken dish and Dean griping that he practically married his brother.

"Give me the strength to not wring his neck," Castiel whispered into the empty room, just as he began to get ready for work. "Fuck." He growled and rubbed his eyes tiredly—it was only eight and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. It was going to be a long night. His only hope was the possibility that he wouldn't be partnered with Dean.