Disclaimer: Still nothing to do with me

A/N: So following updates will NOT be this quick but hopefully having a bit more story into this might stimulate some more interest and get people reading...hint hint?

Feel free to point out any mistakes or problems because I am currently tired and ill and cannot trust my own judgement when it comes to my writing.

Chapter Two

The first few times Dean turned up, the afternoon was spent in what Chuck had dubbed intense Angelic passion; the two of them fucking each other senseless because the half-Angel was desperately trying to regain a small amount of that closeness that he'd not felt in so long. This world, he'd come to realize, was nothing if not filled with death, destruction and lonliness. Nobody realized just how lonely though. Inside Dean or with Dean inside him the rest of the world would melt away, ti would cease to exist and it was just the two of them together as it hadn't been in so long he couldn't even remember what the ground looked like when it wasn't stained with blood.

But that changed one time when he realized that the hunter remembered nothing of his time beyond the confines of the camp. Part of him was intensely grateful that Dean didn't know what had happened to the world, what he was, what….what Cas had done. The other part was filled with regret.

Here they were, the two of them having but one day a month to spend together and all they were doing was going at it like rabbits. It was like he was treating Dean like his personal sex toy. Something to give him release after each and every shitty month as it rolled by. And each month was getting worse and worse. And Dean….Dean deserved far better than that. He'd always deserved far better than that.

So the next time when Dean was brought to him, he spent the first ten minutes just staring at him with weary eyes, while the hunter just kept trying to start a conversation between them.

In the end he just took the man's hand, leading him over to the red couch that Cas had managed to help survive all that had happened and just sat down with him. When asked why he simply said that there was more to life than fornication. Which made Dean smile. God he never knew how much he missed Dean's smiles until the man would smile at him like that.

Most of that day was spent with Dean spread out on the couch while Cas was laid down beside him, his head in the hunter's lap as calloused fingers carded through the man's scruffy hair, occasionally tracing down the side of his head to scratch at the stubble that had amassed there.

"You really ought to shave." Dean chuckled. Cas smiled but not really.

"I know."

He did shave. Not everyday, there was no need, his hair still didn't grow as quickly as a human's might but sometimes there just wasn't time to worry about things like shaving. The camp was growing and there were so many people more important than himself. Children, men, women, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, family. So many people.

Of course he didn't say that. Dean would only get angry tell him he was, realize Cas didn't believe it and that was their one chance gone. So he remained silent, taking in the warmth of the man beside him and pretending that he intended to use a razor the next morning. But if there was any morning he wasn't going to use one it was the morning after their one day. If he could get away with doing nothing, he'd do his damnedest but he never could. The world had ended. No time to mope.

Cas didn't mean to fall asleep, wanting to hoarde and cherish every moment he had with Dean for the golden flakes of time they were but the reassuring motions in his hair and Dean humming Hey Jude above him soon had him drifting and soon, too soon, he fell asleep.

When he awoke the warmth beneath him was gone, the air was cold and tuneless and he was alone on the suddenly too big and empty couch. Anyone else might think Dean had gone for a walk or a drink, got some food. gone on patrol, something normal, something temporary, but Castiel knew better. One day a month. That had been his agreement with Michael.

One day a month with Dean in exchange for staying out of the Angel's way. No more Angel patrols, no more going out in the middle of the night with his Angel blade. No more trying to kill Michael.

That was the deal.

…

It wasn't enough.

…

Every time after that one day he would awake with a piece of himself missing. As though Dean was slowly picking him apart and one day he'd wake up nothing more than an empty shell. Except he wasn't, Dean would never do that. Chuck, the only person who knew of the deal between half-Angel and Archangel had begged Cas continually to break it off but he couldn't. He just…he couldn't.

"Look at this world, Chuck. Look at what has become of it."

Chuck sighed exasperatedly. "I thought we'd been over this. This isn't your fault."

"Regardless." Cas reached inside his inner pocket and pulled out his Angel blade. Despite the agreement with Michael it was always upon his person. Just because Dean wasn't in charge of his body didn't mean the rules he'd laid down didn't apply.

Rule 4. No guns. "We're all survivors and we've got this far by holding onto something. For some it's family. For others it's fear. For me-"

"It's Dean." They'd had this conversation a thousand times before, every morning the day after Dean came and went. It was beginning to sound like a broken record but it wasn't, because Cas never wavered in his convictions. He was never going to back down from his decision. And Chuck felt he might have a better deal of it arguing against the wall.

But every morning after Dean came and went, Cas would take longer and longer to leave his cabin and set about sorting everyone out. It probably wouldn't be so bad if there weren't three hundred and eighty seven people in their camp, most of whom needed training, organising and educating by the half-Angel. But in this mess of a world they were in, he was the person to teach them how to fight against Croats and demons.

"I'm not cancelling the deal."

Chuck nodded. "Of course not." And as he did every other time, he left.

He may not have been a celestial being at some point like Cas was but he got it. When you didn't have much to cling on to in a world like this, what you did have you often refused to let go.

Not until it was too late.