Chapter Three:

The sun was gone by the time they had set out on the road. The car ride had started out silent except for the light rain fall outside. He kept track of the time that passed by how often Dean stole glances at him. Each time, the brief look sent a strange sensation up Emanuel's skin.

The rain had stopped then, as if signaling that it was time to talk. It didn't last long, but it had been enough.

They had shared a brief conversation where he had expressed what he had believed since his first memory in those woods; that he had a good life. That he was a good person. But the apprehension in Dean's expression made him wonder why he believed that and why had he never questioned it.

How had he gotten there, why had he been drenched, why had he been naked? For the first time since that day, Emanuel wondered what the answers were. Only this time, he realized he might not like the answer.

But this conversation also had allowed Emanuel to learn that someone from Dean's past had hurt him, and it seemed his brother as well. Someone with a strange name. Someone Dean didn't want to talk about and the mere conjuring of this person's name seemed to cause Dean pain.

Castiel

The warm sting of anger crept over Emanuel then. It was the first time he had felt anger towards anyone, or anything. But he intensely disliked this Castiel. He hoped that they were gone for good, because he didn't want someone as beautiful as Dean to suffer the way he seemed to be now.

It didn't seem fair.

They had gotten a hotel room eventually, not that Dean wanted to stop Emanuel observed, but he needed too. Emanuel had followed him silently to the office where Dean had paid for the room and then down the hallway to the door that matched their key.

Barely through the threshold of their room and Dean was dumping things on the floor. Emanuel stood still in his spot for a moment and observed how strange it looked to see things so carelessly tossed about. He turned his attention to Dean, who at this point was dumping his bag out on the first bed from the door.

Again, Emanuel felt a strange sensation fill him because in his home with Daphne, that side of the room had always been his.

"What do you want for dinner?"

Emanuel wasn't sure what he should say, and the silence that answered Dean for him, caused the hunter to turn and look at him. For a moment Emanuel was worried that Dean would be mad at him, but the corner of his mouth turned up in a small smile.

There was something about the way Dean looked at him, Emanuel realized. Like he recognized something and it both made him happy and sad at the same time.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes," Emanuel decided, even though he really wasn't. That was two lies today, a record as far as he knew.

"Well, what do you want to eat?"

Emanuel shifted in his spot. "I don't cook."

"I didn't ask you if you did."

"Daphne always cooked." Emanuel tried again, feeling shameful under the weight of Dean's doubt. "It's Tuesday chicken Caesar salad night."

The disbelief in Dean's expression grew to an almost comical level. "So you never have anything else?"

Emanuel was still for a moment and then shook his head.

It was then, that Dean had laughed. It had unnerved Emanuel at first, but quickly he found he liked the way it sounded.

"Okay then, hamburgers and fries it is." Dean replied.

Daphne never made him a meal like that. "Why?"

"Because," Dean said as he pulled on his jacket, "It's my favorite meal."

And now it was Emanuel's.

Sitting in the motel room, Emanuel wondered if he ever had anything as delicious as a bacon cheeseburger before.

He looked up from the table and to Dean, who was sitting on the bed. Not the bed he had dumped his things on, but the other bed in the room.

It was the first time that Dean looked completely happy, which in turn filled Emanuel with joy.

Even if there were times when Dean just seemed to linger too long. His hand would met Emanuel's side in an unconscious gesture as he passed. Though Emanuel wasn't sure if the other man was trying to move him away or closer. Dean wouldn't realize it had happened right away and Emanuel wouldn't be able to tell him to move it. There was something so pleasant and delightfully sinful about letting it happen.

But eventually, within seconds usually, Dean would realize what he had done. He would shoot his hand a reproachful glance, tear it away, and quickly move away from Emanuel.

And drink. There was a lot of drinking following these moments.

Emanuel would stay rooted in his spot, watching as Dean took long gulps of whiskey straight from the bottle. His head would be spinning a little as he found himself missing that simple touch, more than he was missing his own wife.

Mostly there were looks, stares actually, from Dean that lasted a little too long to not question it. There was such a profound sadness in his eyes and it seemed to get worse as the night wore on. Like being in this room with Emanuel was slowly killing him, but he would rather die than live.

And it wasn't the drinking that had done it. Emanuel wasn't scared of Dean loosing control and hurting him. No he knew, some how, that no matter what he could trust Dean.

With a need to fill the void of silence some how, Emanuel turned on the TV. Daphne did not have cable because she felt that there was nothing productive about the activity. So the remote baffled him, but he didn't want to disturb Dean who seemed to be engrossed in reading a journal. Accidentally, he came across a station about well endowed women from the far East. Instead of scrolling away from it, he managed to order it.

His eyes went wide with shock just as he twisted in his spot to look at Dean.

"Damn it Cas, I told you..." Dean started, the sentence catching in his throat even as he turned to look at Emanuel. The sadness became misery this time. Like this was it, Dean would break down crying. Instead he rubbed his face and downcast his eyes. He mumbled an apology and quickly turned away.

The whiskey bottle next to him was picked up again and a long mournful swig taken from it. It broke Emanuel's heart this time. He turned the TV off, regretting that he had ever tried to watch it.

"I'm so sorry."

Dean was still for a moment, before twisting to look at Emanuel, "For what?"

Good question

The answer had seemed so obvious at first. He had been sorry for turning on the depraved, smut movie. But now that he was thinking about the question, he wondered if that was really all he was apologizing for. Because he suddenly felt like there was something more.

Emanuel shifted in his spot, "For making you think about Cas again." It had seemed the best way to cover everything in his thoughts.

There was another moment of silence before a short burst of bitter laughter came from Dean. "Happens all the time." He whispered, reflective for a moment before he added, "Nothing you can control."

Emanuel realized the truth of that statement as Dean turned away from him again. It was that whomever this Castiel was, he was always on Dean's mind. Before they had met, and now afterwards, Castiel was never far from Dean's thoughts. And because of this, Dean had probably been pretending all along to be sharing this hotel room with the person he missed so much.

Shock came over Emanuel when he realized he was jealous, because until this moment he couldn't remember ever caring about anyone like that. With the exception being maybe God. That whatever tore Dean and Castiel apart could not end the way Dean felt about him. And it would dictate how Dean related to everyone else afterwards.

Emanuel realized that he longed to share that with Dean. That companionship, that bond, that...

love.

And the desire that might come with it.