Author: SeekerOfTruths

Summary: Set one week after Lazarus Rising: Sam is growing distant; Dean is trying to cope with being brought back; and the world's heading to hell in a hand basket unless a certain angel can lead Dean to accept his duty and destiny.

Rating: T

Author Note: Hello. I'm really glad to hear that people are liking this so far. I thought I'd post up the second chapter today. I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know your opinions. And who's excited about Supernatural tonight? I know I am, even though I'll be waiting for it to come up on youtube first.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Supernatural; Kripke does.


Sam Winchester unlocked the door to the motel room and stepped inside with a sigh. The sun was just beginning to rise; he had been gone for nearly six hours. He eyed the angel seated in the chair across the room. Their eyes met briefly, Sam's dark green and Castiel's innocent blue. Quickly, Sam looked away. It felt as though the angel could see straight through him to his deceit. Once again, he had been out training his powers with Ruby.

"Did you have a nice drink?" Castiel asked quietly.

"Yeah…" the younger Winchester muttered as he kicked off his shoes and sat down on the other bed next to his brother. "You could try sleeping, you know?"

"I could say the same to you." The angel met Sam's eyes again and smiled. "Your brother asked me to wake him when you came back." He stood up and walked over to where the older hunter lay still troubled in sleep, but not as bad as earlier in the night. Gently, Castiel set a hand down on Dean's marked shoulder. It was the only place where the angel could touch him without setting him off into defensive mood in this state. "Sam's back," he whispered.

The older hunter's eyes shot open immediately at the sound of his brother's name. He shoved Castiel's hand off and sat up, shivering slightly. "Stop touching me there…"

"But I don't like it when you try to punch me in the face." The angel looked at his charge innocently.

"Damn you…" Dean shook his head and then looked over at his little brother. "Where've you been, Sammy?"

"Getting a drink… now, I'm going to bed…" Sam laid back in his separate bed and pulled the covers over his head without another word or look at Dean.

"Fine," Dean grumbled and stood up. Everything felt wrong now since he had gotten back. Sam and he hadn't always been on the same page in the past, but the younger brother had grown steadily distant towards him since his return. It hurt, but he refused to show it and he refused to believe that Sam was using his abilities. Maybe Sam was just coming to terms with him being back in his own way. There was nothing wrong with getting a couple drinks, except Sam wasn't much of drinker. Things could have changed, though; he recalled seeing the empty bottles of alcohol that filled the kitchen table at Bobby's place.

Dean kneeled down to pull his duffel bag back out from under the bed. He was grateful that Sam hadn't had the heart to throw out his things when he died. Reaching into the bag, he retrieved a clean shirt and jeans. He stood up, took off the clothes he had fallen asleep in, and pulled on the new ones with no concern for modesty.

Castiel blushed and quickly looked away. He concentrated on a spot on the floor and waited until he was sure Dean was fully dressed again before finally turning around. "Where are we going?"

"Who says I'm taking you with me?" Dean replied. There was hostility and annoyance ringing in his voice. He shot a glare at the angel, who he still trusted about as far as he could throw him.

"So, you're going to leave me alone with Mr. Anti-social?" he said, pointing at the lump on the other bed and frowning. "Unfair. And you are my charge; I go where you go."

"I don't need a baby-sitter ta hold my hand. You've been following be around like some kinda puppy since you showed up. Get a life and leave me outta it." The older hunter headed over to the door with Castiel at his heels.

"I don't think you understand, Dean… you are my life now. God…"

"Can go fuck Himself for all I care. I don't believe in Him and I'm not gonna serve Him. He's gotta problem, He should come down here and fix it Himself. God never did shit for me or my family all my life and now He wants me ta do something for Him. How do I know He even really exists?" Dean growled and would have shouted, but he did not want to wake his sleeping brother. The relationship was his brother was rocky enough without him screaming at the top of his lungs while his sibling slept. "And don't you tell me to have some fucking faith."

"Dean…" the angel whispered and placed a hand down on the hunter's shoulder where the mark was. He gripped tightly. "Can't you feel it? All the proof you need… and then some…" Briefly, a shadow of wings appeared around Castiel like on that night when they met.

The hunter could feel it; the strange energy that sailed through him whenever the angel touched the mark. It was warm, strong, and pure. Something that could only be heavenly, but still Dean clung to his disbelief. He shivered as some otherworldly form of radiance filled him and made him feel at peace for the first time in a long time.

Castiel eventually released him. "Do you still not believe, Dean?"

"I refuse…" he muttered stubbornly.

"Why? Because you'd have to admit to yourself that you are worth saving? I don't think it's God you have a hard time believing in. I think it's you." The angel looked at him with sad, pleading eyes. "Why can't you accept it? You've suffered enough. Now, you are saved."

"Don't talk like you actually know me. You've known me… what? Seven days and you think you know everything." Dean stared him down.

"Seven days is enough to make a whole world, Dean… and your eyes and the Lord speak to me," the angel said sincerely, bowing his head.

"I think you need your head checked, Cas. Any normal person who says that woulda been carted off to the loony bin by now." Dean's expression actually softened slightly and he laughed. "My eyes speak to you, wow, that's buckets of crazy. You're a schizo, too, huh?"

The angel smiled and laughed lightly along with Dean. At least some of the hostility the hunter felt towards him was starting to fade; that made him happy. It would also make working together easier.

"I'm getting breakfast. You can come, but I'm tossing you out on your ass if you get any imaginary feathers on the upholstery. Or if you mess with my tunes. Sam already installed that icrap thing into my baby. No one else is touching her." Dean held the door open for Castiel and they walked out to the Impala together. Mutual coexistence was a fine way to start.