Happy Thanksgivings, Americans!

Dean was in the garage, changing the oil on the Impala, when he heard the flap of wings coming from the living room. For a moment, he didn't think about it until he heard a stranger's voice and remembered that Cas had been watching some Bee documentary on PBS for the last ten minutes. He replaced the filter cap and slide out from under the car. He washed his hands, listening to the angels talking in the other room.

"… here, consorting with a mud creature." The stranger's voice was male, smooth and young. He spoke softly, with an unmistakable rage hiding beneath every word.

"Please, do not refer to Dean in that manner." Castiel said, mildly. The bee documentary was still playing in the background and Castiel didn't sound upset so Dean didn't hurry. He went back to the Impala, opened the secret trunk compartment and withdrew his angel blade, left over from Gabriel's death. There were three angel swords in the house; Gabriel's, the one in the nightstand by their bed, and the one Castiel kept always on his person purely out of habit. The blade had poked him often enough when he embraced Cas without thinking about it but on days like this, he was glad Cas had it.

Dean walked through the open garage door and made his way to the back of the house. The September air was warm against his bare arms as Dean snuck in the backdoor, careful not to make too much noise.

"Your actions were little short of blasphemy. You shall not escape punishment again." The angel continued, his voice rising. Dean frowned, peering out of the kitchen. He didn't like where this was headed.

The strange angel was shorter than Cas, younger as well. He was most likely processing a high school kid, wearing a white hoodie and faded jeans. He had his own sword out and Dean fought the urge to rush in, guns blazing. Cas had yet to draw his sword. If Cas didn't see a threat, Dean had to trust in that, much as it would frustrate him.

"I was punished." He heard Cas say in a small voice. "Repeatedly."

Dean definitely didn't like that. He set to work, cutting his forearm with the angel blade and drawing the sigil on the back wall.

"You're alive." The other angel snarled. "You, who destroyed so many of our brothers, you still survive to pervert God's decree. There can be no punishment suitable-" Dean slammed his palm into the center of the blood mark and the living room filled with blinding light. Dean squinted trying to shade his eyes. He thought he saw a glimmer of a smile playing around Castiel's lips before his angel disappeared.

Dean winced, wrapping another layer of bandages around his arm. If Cas were there, he could have healed him quick enough but he'd been gone for nearly three hours. Dean was starting to worry. He didn't know exactly where angels went when you zapped them. Cas said it changed every time and that he "lost time" whenever it happened. In spite of the fact there was no real way around it, Dean always felt guilty when he had to send his angel to the middle of nowhere.

There was no way around it, Dean reminded himself. Angel proofing sigils were stupid in an Angel's house. When they were building the house, they'd taken precautions against just about everything. There was a permanent layer of rock salt in the foundation, devil's traps on every door way and a few painted on the foundation and the ceiling, and borax strategically located in every room; everything Dean could think of to keep the bad out but of course Cas had to be a member of one of the most powerful species on the planet. Of course, he would have to be the only member of said species Dean actually liked. Of course, he would have to have pissed off about 80% of his siblings, primarily because of Dean. Winchester luck.

Dean's only real comfort was that Castiel was strong enough to take care of himself. Not that strength gave anyone immunity from being hurt but Cas was good at surviving. He had made Dean promise to use the Angel Banishing Sigil any time a hostile celestial being showed up, saying that he could handle any discomfort from the trip. The comfort those words gave was small and fleeting. A day would come when Cas couldn't and Dean didn't think he could take that.

Dean swallowed, trying to think of something else. Mercifully, the phone rang on the bedside table and Cas's name flashed across the screen. Dean offered a silent prayer of thanks.

"Hey, you okay?" He answered, trying to keep the worry from his voice.

"I'm fine." Cas said, and Dean heard loud traffic in the background. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine." Dean heard him sigh, relieved. "Where'd you end up?"

"Beijing."

"Oh yeah?" Dean had to smile, wondering how many Chinese people he'd freaked out, popping out of nowhere. "Well, grab me an eggroll and get your ass back home."

With a flap of wings, Cas was next to him. His angel didn't look too much worse for the wear. The clothes he'd been wearing, blue sweats and a t-shirt, were slightly dirty but Dean suspected that was from landing in Beijing rather than any damage caused by renegade angels. Dean's relief when the conclusion struck was palpable.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said in his usual way, sitting down next to Dean on the bed. "I assumed your eggroll request was sarcastic."

Dean kissed him. "Yeah, it was." He said. "So you wanna tell me what happened?"

"Micol believes killing me would free Michael and Lucifer," Castiel explained, "and that it would be just."

Dean rubbed his eyes, furious and frustrated. "So standard angel dickery, huh? Thought they were done with that Apocalypse crap."

"Yes. I did too." Cas said. He glanced at Dean's forearm, worried. "You're hurt. You said you were fine." His voice was almost accusing.

"I am. Just went a little deep with the cut this time. Total accident. Guess I'm out of practice." Dean said.

"No other angels came?" Cas asked. Dean shook his head. "Good. That means Micol was most likely working on his own." He stood. "Angels working independently rarely ends well. I should confer with Inias."

Dean grabbed his head before Cas could flap his way out. Cas stared down at him. "Not tonight, dude." Dean whispered. "Please?"

Cas nodded and sat back down. Dean shifted around to look him in the eyes. Cas was worried. He sat with his hands folded, almost as if he was praying. He didn't look at Dean. The hunter bit his lip, not sure of how to handle it.

"Cas?" He put a hand on his angel's shoulder. Cas looked up and kissed him, gentle yet fierce. Dean swayed, dizzy at Cas's touch. He leaned into Cas's arms, trying to reassure him.

"If anything happened to you…" Cas whispered. "Because of me…"

"Nothing's gonna happen." Dean said, with the uncomfortable feeling that he was lying. The last year with Cas had been too good to him, Dean was way too happy not to have something else go immediately wrong. Winchester luck. "We're good, Cas; you and me will be fine, I promise."

Cas nodded. He let loose a ragged sigh, warm against Dean's face, trying to calm himself. His grip loosened but he still clutched at the hem of Dean's shirt, leaning up against him. Dean didn't mind. Cas was ridiculously warm, as always, and having him rest against Dean's shoulder never felt anything but right. Dean brushed his fingers through Castiel's thick black hair. Cas smiled at the touch.

"I kinda hate your family, Cas: can't lie." Dean said.

"I wish you wouldn't, given that they only act as I used to." Cas said, sitting up straighter for a better look at Dean. His blue eyes were pensive. "But I can see your point; especially when they threaten you."

"You were never as bad as the others." Dean said, kissing his forehead. "I'm sorry. I know they're family-"

"I can't blame them." Cas murmured. He rested his head back against Dean's shoulder, cupping Dean's chin affectionately. "They never had a Dean to teach them."

When Cas said that kind of shit, Dean had to kiss him, if only shut him up. Cas stared up at him, touching Dean's cheek as if to remind himself that Dean was real. "Can the mushy shit, Cas, okay? You and me are gonna be fine… whatever your pyscho family says."

Dean leaned back on to the bed, carrying Cas with him. They lay together, Dean's arms around Cas's shoulders, Cas clutching at his t-shirt, his head against Dean's chest. They held each other for a long time. Dean couldn't really complain since holding Cas was always amazing but he'd feel better if it weren't because Cas was terrified of losing him.

"We gotta figure out a better way to deal with this, Cas." Dean whispered. "I don't like having to banish you every time one of your dickhead brothers shows up."

"I don't enjoy being banished." Cas admitted. "I enjoy less the idea of leaving you alone when we're under attack. Unfortunately, I am an angel-"

"My angel," Dean corrected.

"Yours," Cas agreed, "and as such I will be banished."

Dean thought for a moment, searching for a loophole. Cas hadn't fallen, per se, though he'd lost a lot of cred with heaven. Even if he admitted preferring Earth, humanity and Dean, he still retained most of his angel mojo and all the weakness that came with it. Dean remembered with a sinking feeling when Cas took on five angels at once, with the sigil carved into his chest. Those hours, tearing around with Sam, trying to find any kind of remote safety, he'd been sure Cas was dead.

Of course that was just after Cas had beaten the ever loving shit out of him for trying to say yes to Michael so Dean's feelings were slightly confused. Not that his feelings for Cas had ever been clear in those days. He'd spent so much time worrying about Sam then, being pissed at Cas and the rest of the angels for putting them through all that but mostly he was pissed at Cas for dying. He'd turned up, weeks later, effectively mortal having sacrificed everything he knew to help Dean and his brother. Dean remembered being surprised at the relief that coursed through him when Castiel finally called, at how much he'd missed him. Up until then Dean's only comfort had been that he got to kill Zachariah.

Dean shifted a little, holding Cas closer. His angel sighed softly, at last content. Dean thought about Zachariah, a bigger dick in his memory than either Michael or Lucifer. Killing him was nearly as satisfying as ganking Azazel, just for all the shit he'd put them through. It was a clean kill too, without the damage caused by trapping Michael and Lucifer, or killing Dick. It was vengeance, clean and simple, for Dean and Sam and, even if Dean hadn't realized it at the time, for Cas too. Zachariah had manipulated his angel, pulled rank, and even, Dean suspected, tortured him into compliance. Though Cas wouldn't admit it, Dean was also pretty sure Zachariah was the main reason he defected in the first place. He'd been there, that first moment that Cas truly rebelled, staring into Zachariah's outrage as the white light of banishment consumed heaven's middle manager.

" Hey, Cas, you remember that time with Zachariah..." Dean said. "When you saved us with the sigil, why didn't you go then?"

Cas looked up at him, tilting his head. "When I banished Zachariah…" He said slowly, trying to remember, "I was holding on to you. I think that I was tethered to you. You kept me from being banished."

"Oh." Dean didn't know what to say.

"I think that was the first time I knew I wanted you." Cas mused. "The first time I realized how important you were. Not just to the world, but to me. Personally."

"Oh." Cas stared up at him, his bright eyes warm with the memory. After all they'd been through together, Cas still had the capacity to render him speechless with those eyes, especially when he said things like that.

"It was very confusing." Cas said. "I knew in that moment that I would be hunted, tortured, ultimately killed because of my actions, and I didn't care. It was frightening how much I didn't care, as long as you were-"

Dean kissed him. There was no other option when Cas started saying shit like that. Cas melted into him, warm and yielding. Dean pressed in closer, gently exploring his angel's mouth. Cas rested his hand against Dean's face as if to keep him there, tracing the outline of his cheekbones with the curve of his thumb. Dean cupped his chin in between fore finger and thumb, forcing Cas to look up at him. Cas frowned slightly when he pulled away, just enough so they could talk.

"We're not there anymore, Cas." He whispered. "You're not making that choice anymore."

"What?" Cas's voice was soft, confused, and warm on Dean's lips. Dean smiled, wondering if he could possibly make sense of this.

"I don't want you hunted or tortured or banished trying to protect me, alright?" He said. "We stay together now, you got that? If that means we gotta stay joined at the hip for the rest of our lives then that's what we do."

"You'll tether me? Keep me grounded?" Castiel asked.

Dean nodded, kissing him again. "You're stuck here, baby."

Cas smiled. "Good."

Dean wasn't sure exactly when he fell asleep but Cas was still there when he woke up. He watched Dean sleep, lean muscled arms wrapped around his waist and shoulders. The dawn was peaking in through the bedroom window. Dean smiled, burying his face into Cas's shoulders.

"I really must go and confer with Inias." Cas said, stroking his hair.

"Okay." Dean sat up, realizing he couldn't reasonably keep him there forever. "I should change this bandage anyway."

"I healed you when you were asleep." Cas said. He stood, mojoing himself into the familiar suit and trench coat. Dean blinked, setting back to admire the view. Cas looked awesome in anything he chose to wear but the trench coat brought back good memories of a dark, stormy night in Maine and quick desperate touches in purgatory. Cas's trench coat was like some kind uniform for badassery.

"Thanks." He finally remembered to say.

Cas looked back at him and smiled. "You're welcome. I'll return soon." With that, he was gone. Dean sighed, a little disappointed that they couldn't make out or fuck or at least touch every moment of their lives. Practicality sucked.

Dean didn't hear the sound of Cas's wings over the shower but he felt his angel's arms circling him immediately, from behind. Dean didn't hesitate turning around. He knew it was Cas touching in the same way he knew that Sam was his brother and cheeseburgers were delicious.

"Welcome home." He murmured, half stiff at Cas's mere touch.

"You missed me." His angel whispered, glancing down. Dean grinned. Small drops of water bounced off Cas's bare chest. Dean leaned forward, stroking Cas's prominent shaft.

"Looks like the feeling's mutual." He whispered. "What did Inias say?"

Cas frowned slightly, as if he didn't think this were exactly the time for a war council. Dean didn't care. He didn't want any interruptions from asshole in-laws. Besides, if Cas was pissed, he might be willing to punish him.

"He's looking into it." Cas said, sliding his fingers down the curve of Dean's back, playing tantalizingly close to his ass.

"And?" Dean gasped as Cas slid his fingers carefully inside of him. Suddenly, he didn't care what Inias had to say.

"And I left him to it." Cas whispered onto his neck. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Dean."

Dean's body quaked against his angel's touch. It was a long moment before his head cleared enough to ask the inevitable question; "Why would I ever want to?"

Oh, what? You thought this series would just be floor sex and dolphin sandwiches? Huh? No, it maybe post series but this is Supernatural and if they don't angst at least once a week they will explode! I just imagine Amelia is so annoyed when Sam gets his angst on without any context. He would take up so much room!

Anyway, this fic went on a lot longer than I intended it to, mainly because I wasn't sure where it would end. It was supposed to stop at Cas's initial return but then he still had to go talk to Inias because what if Micol came back? But I couldn't end with Cas leaving again so I just made them fuck.

And I'm good with that.

Reviews are much appreciated