A/N- this is just to say sorry for the massive delay in posting this- I've just been unable to think of how to set this out, and inspiration finally struck this evening. Thanks for your patience, and I really hope you enjoy this.

Well... This Is Interesting...

Castiel, in his innocence, had thought bodies were bad.

The eldest Winchester sat not three feet away, poring over a laptop with a frown Uriel would have been proud of, and Cas- as the Winchesters had taken to calling him-was fighting down fear. Given his relative inexperience he was rather proud of how he'd managed the emotion so far, but the more he'd thought about it, the more he'd realised that this, in itself was the problem.

He felt. Castiel, Angel of the Lord and Appointed Guardian of the Righteous Man, was feeling.

Well, strictly speaking he'd always felt. In a way. He'd felt the love of the Almighty as a constant presence since the first day of his existence, and yes, sometimes he'd felt a fleeting pity for the state of the human race. But now he was actually down here, he was totally unprepared for the violence of the feelings that were stirring.

Take hunting for example; before, when he had too, it had been clinical. Detached. Block, punch, dodge, counter, repeat, exorcise Demon as soon as possible- a predictable process perhaps, but one that required no emotion. Now, and he shuddered to think of it, he got angry. He didn't like it particularly- hated the tightness in his chest and burning of his breath in his lungs and the red haze it gave his vision, but there it was. It started low, building whenever he heard a sound that meant a Winchester had taken a hit till it was all-out rage, and he had to slam the barriers back down before he lost control. Because losing control would be a very, very bad idea- the very thought of green eyes burning made him want to stab something.

It should have been terrifying. It was terrifying; the majority of the time it was all he could feel, and it was only through supreme force of will that he was still functioning at all. He didn't know when it had started but now he could feel them, feel the doorways to doubt that he'd been warned against cracking open with increasing frequency, and without even meaning to he'd defied heaven. If they ever found out...

"Cas?" The alarmed tone broke through his reverie, and he blinked to find Dean looking right at him, green eyes glowing with concern beneath the frown. Unable to help it, he stiffened, unsure of how long he'd been standing there. Staring.

"It is nothing, Dean. Go back to your research." He was proud of that. No matter how bad things were, it never showed in his voice, never affected his body in ways that were noticeably unusual.

The hunter looked down again, but the frown deepened as the silence resumed, save for the clacking of keys.

"Dean."

"Yeah Cas?" He didn't look up, eyes fixed on the screen in front of him, and Cas wondered idly if Sam had given him permission to use it.

"What does happy feel like?"

That got his attention; and the thought held a strange kind of glee as the hunter looked up sharply, closing the laptop with a snap that echoed across the silence.

Slowly, he rose, moving softly across the space between them till he was less than an inch away, suddenly very large and somewhat threatening. There was something indefinable in the glittering green depths, and Cas could feel every movement of his chest as he breathed in and out, could smell the beer Sam had spilled on his t-shirt at lunch.

"Happy... is kinda hard to define. It's a lot of things, but mostly it's when you see something and you want to smile. It's when you keep smiling even when your face starts hurting, and when you laugh till your stomach aches. It's when someone walks into a room and you don't want anything else, you're good with what you have right in front of you." The hunters lips curved in a small smile, glad Cas didn't know what was going on in his head. What that confused expression did to him- and so what if he'd lied a little? The last part wasn't happy, that was lust, but he figured he was allowed a little leeway, given his practically saintly patience and self control.

Cas nodded, storing the information away for future use, but he didn't step away. The air grew heavier, harder to pull into his lungs, and Dean knew he should just look down, or at the window, anywhere but the clear blue eyes that featured so often in his dreams, but he couldn't.

They were far too lost, and far too alone.

Slowly, so slowly Cas began to frown, his arms came up to rest on the angels face. Gently, so gently he stroked his cheekbone with his thumb, and oh so carefully he pulled the angel down till his lips touched a cool forehead. He felt Cas stiffen as they connected, and Dean didn't push it even as the angel relaxed, leaning down so their foreheads were touching, arms loose around his angels shoulders, an age old gesture of comfort from one warrior to another.

Dean wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, in their cloud of warmth and safety, but eventually the beeping of the laptops battery warning pulled him away. Cas didn't move, standing transfixed as he shut it off, didn't move when Dean pulled him towards him, hand warm and comforting in his. Another kiss, this one on the temple as they heard Sam come through the door.

Sam said nothing when he saw their locked hands. He said nothing when he saw how close they were standing, didn't comment on the obvious air of intimacy that surrounded the two.

He didn't say anything at all, in fact- until he saw Dean had his computer.

At the end of this mini-trilogy, would a review be too much trouble? Please and thank you!