"Fucking lice! Why lice?" Dean scratched as Sam began the tedious process of once again combing through dean's hair. "And why does the shampoo itch more than the bugs do?"

Dean heard his brother grumble something over his head. "For the love of God, Sam! What?"

Sam's fingers dug into his skin with a lot more pressure than they had been. "Well, Dean. I was just commenting on how a grown man who steals small children's hats deserves what he gets."

"I didn't steal his hat! The little midget had it coming. He egged my baby."

Sam flicked his older brother across the ear. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

"But that is how you got it. The hat. I checked."

Dean slumped in his chair. "Are you sure? You're not just trying to get out of shaving your head are you?"

Sam ran the comb's teeth across a more sensitive area from Dean's scratching, and the older Winchester jerked away. Sam placed his hands on either side of Dean's head, and pulled him back into place. "No Dean." Shove. "I assure you, I do not have lice. The hat did though. That's why I threw it in the dump outside. You're lucky the rest of your clothes look alright."

Dean looked around the hotel room at the damp clothes which were draped over any conceivable surface. He'd like to find a Laundromat, just to make sure they went through another washing before he put them back on. For now, he sat in his last pair of sweats and a white tee shirt that had been stowed in the back of the Impala. It smelled like it had been on the road for a while, but it was buggy free, which was a plus.

He was also free ballin' and it felt good.

After a few minutes, the bitch spoke. "Done. You're clear."

"Thank you Jesus." Dean was up faster than Sam could blink.

And Cas was in Dean's face faster than Dean could blink.

"Fuck Cas! Space, space!"

The angel stepped back, as was customary with their ritual. He sighed, clearly having meant to get right to the point before Dean had so rudely interrupted him with his silly human ideas of personal space. Now he simply looked at his human with—Dean hated to admit it—a look that could challenge one of Sam's bitchfaces.

"What?"

Castiel's eyes slid from Dean to Sam. "May we speak alone for a moment, Dean?"

"Uh…sure I guess."

Sam looked between the two men and seemed to get the hint. "Ah. Yeah. About lunch time anyway. I'll just get us a bite to eat, yeah?" He grabbed the keys to the Impala as he moved towards the door.

"No salads." Dean warned. "Cas and I want bacon cheeseburgers."

The angel behind him didn't argue, even though he no longer needed to eat human food to survive.

"Okay," Sam decided it was better to refrain from harping on his brother about his blood pressure, perhaps this once. "I think I'll eat out, then bring your food after. Take your time."

He shut the door behind him as he ducked out. He suspected, based on their talk that morning, that Castiel may have some big discussion planned, and he intended not to be a part of it. Plus, Dean had no clue that Cas probably completely misunderstood the previous conversation. Sam wasn't heartless—not even soulless anymore—but he did like putting one over on his older brother. This was almost as good as if he'd planned it himself.

And hey, he figured. If it turns out something happens, well all the better for Dean.

Though he didn't envy his future self for potentially playing the role of damage control.

"Alright, Cas. You need something?" Dean sat on his bed and cracked his back.

There was a time when he would have probably tried to rush Cas, in an attempt to get the angel to the point. But after his time on earth, Castiel had become someone he actually liked to be around for more than a second. Even now, while the angel must have been busy in heaven, he still managed to find time to spend an evening watching bad action movies with Dean, even though Cas didn't particularly like them. That was friendship as far as Dean was concerned, and no one had done that for him before. Dean had also made an effort to take Cas into the city on their last big hunt and visit a museum about…someone. It was a small one room cabin off of a lake, and he didn't recall the dude's name. Point was that Cas had liked it.

The dark-haired man before him nodded slowly. He opened his mouth, then closed it and turned away. He took a few paces, then abruptly turned and caught a few in the opposite direction. Dean's eyes followed his friend with drawn brows. Something big was bothering Cas, and he wondered what it could be. What could possibly compare to a civil war in heaven?

"Cas?" Dean spoke more gently than he'd meant. He reached across the gap and patted the foot of Sam's bed, indicating the angel should sit across from him.

Castiel stopped in his tracks, then nodded after taking in what his human was asking of him. He sat on the edge of the bed, trench coat bunching up around him in a careless fashion. Dean could see the man's jaw tighten as he leaned forward and grasped his hands together.

"Dude?"

"I—" He stopped as if he were at a loss. Maybe he was. "I have come to ask, Dean."

Ask? The cogs in the hunter's head began to whirl. Ask what?

The dark head bent over his knees and shook slightly with a hefty sigh. "Well?"

"Huh?" The green eyes were wide and it looked as though the man were trying to figure out a puzzle.

"What is your answer, Dean?"

Answer? Dean didn't even understand the question. The blank he was drawing was legendary. It was annoying because he was usually good at recollection. "What do you—oh."

Castiel nodded, still refusing to look at Dean. He studied his thumbs instead.

"Uh…" Dean scratched at a particularly annoying spot on his scalp which happened to be over the mark Castiel had already left him. "Again?"

There was a moment of tense silence, then Castiel's head shot up as if he'd just heard a gunshot. "Pardon?"

Dean blinked and wanted to back away, even though Cas was still a good three feet from him. "I mean…you need to do it again?"

The large blue eyes simply stared into his for a moment, then the classic head tilt happened. "I do not understand. What do you mean by 'again'?"

The Winchester wondered if he were going insane. "Cas, are you high?"

"No."

"Drunk?"

Castiel's eyes squinted at Dean. "No, I am not inebriated in any way."

Dean rubbed his palms together, feeling the rough skin scrape across itself. "Is this a joke?"

"I hope so."

"Seriously, Cas…"

"How would I not remember?"

"I dunno! I mean I just found it this morning—err well Sam found it technically."

The angel in a man's body did what Dean could only describe as a double-take. He pulled his head back and regarded his charge. "What did Sam find this morning, Dean?"

"The friggin' mark you left on my head!" The man patted himself on the back of his head and pointed.

Castiel stood quickly and crossed to Dean. Dean had time to think that this was the third time today a dude was gonna have his fingers in his hair, before his angel touched him softly. Very softly. Dean caught himself leaning back into the caresses as the man fingered the crown of his head. Damn. He never knew he liked his head rubbed!

Then Cas's fingers stalled. He must have come to the mark because Dean could practically hear the angel thinking way too hard. Then something occurred to Dean for the first time.

"Not your handiwork?"

He felt fingers brush over his scalp again. "I am afraid not."

Dean let out a long breath, but felt a stone drop in his gut. "So, who's is it?"

"I am unsure. An angel, I would presume. It is a form of Enochian."

Cas let go of his head, then sat down beside him. Dean could feel the angel's thigh against his, but he was a little too shocked to remind Cas of personal space.

"What's it for?" He turned his head to look at his friend.

The blue eyes blinked at him. "It is a form of protection as well as claim."

"Oh well protection isn't bad—" Dean's eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly open. "Claim?"

The angel beside of him nodded. He looked kinda pissed, but also downright depressed.

"What kind of claim?"

Castiel's eyes flicked away from him and he cleared his throat. His voice seemed even more raspy than normal—wrecked. "It is a soul claim, Dean."

Dean felt his shock break and his expression turned to that of outrage. "What the hell? Someone owns my soul?"

The angel pushed himself off the bed and began to pace. His motions were contained but fluid, very animal-like. "No, that is not what a soul claim is. You still own your soul and retain full rights to it."

The hunter's eyes darted back and forth as he watched Cas pace, then looked to his hands, then back to Cas. "Well then fucking tell me already. Don't keep me in suspense, man."

Castiel stopped across the room and narrowed his shoulders as if preparing for a battle. "It is the highest claim an angel cam make on a human. It is used when the angel wishes to keep others of our kind from bonding with a human." He turned to Dean and advanced on him, his face opening.

"But I already had claim over you. My mark on your shoulder makes that so. I am your angel, and you are my charge…"

"A guardian angel?" Dean provided.

"Precisely. No other angel had the right to claim you while I was still around!" Jimmy Novak's face began to burn with Castiel's apparent anger.

Dean wasn't sure, but he thought he might be a little scared of the being in front of him. "Uh can't you just find him or her and talk to them?"

The angel turned from Dean with an exaggerated movement from his neck, and he began to pace once more. The hunter worried that the hotel floor would end up in ruts. "The mark on your scalp supersedes any mark I have made. Since it is the highest, it is the most powerful. My handprint is null and void as long as this other angel has marked you." Dean could see his friend's jaw working.

"Okay, so…" he rubbed his hands on his knees, liking the soft feel of the sweats against his rough palms. "So, we find out who did it and just make them remove it. Then you can add your own mark."

There was a small explosion from Castiel and Dean was startled enough he closed his eyes just in case he was about to pop out of his meat suit. "There is no removal. It is permanent!"

After a small break, Dean opened his eyes to find Cas staring at him. His face was still open and extremely readable, but now it lacked the anger and held a form of sheer aw.

"You would have…let me mark you?"

Dean shrugged. "Sure. There's no other angel I'd rather be stuck with than you. And it would fend off other angels, right?"

Castiel's shoulders slumped a little. "It would have, but I didn't act quickly enough. I wouldn't consider it without your permission." He plopped down onto the bed next to Dean.

The man felt his hand reach for Cas's knee, and he patted it soothingly. "It's cool, Cas. We'll just find a way to break the claim."

"Dean, it is impossible."

"Dude." Castiel looked at his human, as that was clearly what Dean wished for him to do. "You know me and 'impossible.'"

A small smile broke out on the blue-eyed man's face. "I suppose that is true."

Dean nodded. "Damn right." He patted Cas once more before he stood and stretched. "So, why would some random angel do this to me anyway? Why would an angel want to claim a human?"

Castiel clasped his hands together again. "They were used more frequently when angels were allowed to mate with humans. At that time, they were a form of what you would call a marriage bond."

The hunter stopped mid-stride. "Marriage?"

"But that is not the marks' only purpose."

"Am I married?"

"Dean, focus. Whatever the relationship between human and angel, this mark indicates that the angel is dedicated solely to the human. The angel cares for the human more than even our Lord God."

A million thoughts exploded through Dean's head. The first was that most angels didn't seem to give a crap about God, but then he figured it was more a reflection on how Castiel would explain the mark. Castiel—the last angel with pure blind faith. This lead to the thought that Cas had said he would have marked Dean. Did that mean Cas cared for him more than God?

Dean's gaze fell on the shorter man and his breath caught in his chest. Yes, he did think that is what he meant to Cas.

The last thought he had simply pushed down the rest, and it was concerning his new predicament.

"So, what angel cares for me that much?"

Cas looked up to him for a moment without answer. Fuck, Dean thought. Cas of course.

"I do not have an answer for you, Dean." Cas seemed to wish he never would.