The doorbell.

Its shrill cry woke Cas up from his afternoon nap. It was okay. He'd been sleeping for too long anyway. It'd give him a headache if he stayed in bed any longer. He contemplated taking the medication Sam had offered. He had it all in the kitchen cupboard, shoved right at the back, hidden behind some cereal boxes, waiting for him to ingest. He didn't want to give into them, not yet anyway, as it felt like that was him giving up. If he had to do this whole 'troubled soul' thing he wanted to do it properly. As soon as he got the plastic bottles home he researched their side effects; headaches, drowsiness, palpitations, haemophilia and nausea. That was no good, why cure one thing to only suffer from a million other slightly less but still irritating things.

He stretched and wiped the sleep from his eyes. There weren't many people left to visit him, most of them were dead after all. It was probably just someone trying to sell him something that he didn't want or somebody preaching about a religion he didn't care for, and he wouldn't have the heart to turn them away so he'd stand at the door and listen to their cause for half an hour. Empathy is a bitch. With bleary eyes he searched for his glasses, finding grasp on them as they sat on the nightstand, the world becoming a clearer place as he slipped them up his nose. He hurried down the stairs and to the door, trying to fit a person to the black figure behind translucent glass, unable to tell who it was.

It was Dean.

Cas stood behind the door, trying to not let on that he was just in his boxers. The summers were hot, sweaty in the afternoon as the sun blazed through into his bedroom, making sleep come easier, and Cas liked to sleep with something over him. If he wore anything other than boxers he'd overheat, besides, there wasn't meant to be anyone there to see him with little on. He didn't make a habit of people seeing him naked.

He hid, head and a bit of the top half of him showing from behind the door. He figured Dean could probably tell, but he could at least be modest about it and not thrust his form into Dean's face. He hoped Dean didn't think he always paraded around without clothes on.

'Cas.' Dean smiled, silently asking if he could come in. Cas didn't know what to do. Dean was good company and he made him laugh and feel better about everything that was wrong in his life, a new found anchor along with his brother Sam, but he couldn't come in. Not with Castiel looking the way he did. Unshaven and half naked and stained with sweat. He turned his face away from Dean, looking into the house. Dean glanced at his unmarked neck, then his bare clavicles. He looked away.

'Can you come back in twenty minutes or something...or I guess you could come in and watch t.v, I just need to have a shower and get dressed and then...' Cas stopped babbling long enough for Dean to pat his shoulder briefly and fish his car keys out of his pocket. He laughed lightly at Cas, even more so when he began to blush.

'I'll go to the store and pick up some beers, we gotta talk.' He turned and went back to his car, slinking away like he never even came, the only trace of him the faint gasoline smell that lingered behind him. The Impala looked strange in this suburban nightmare, notes of rock and roll inside the sheet music to a picket fence musical. If his life was a musical then Castiel waited in the wings. He shook his head as Dean pulled away. There was a quiet fascination towards him and he didn't know why. Or he thought he didn't, but he knew it had something to do with the mystery behind him. He also liked the idea that Dean was his knight that saved him when he needed to be saved.

Sitting in the car, outside the store, Dean pictured Cas in his mind. He was fallen somehow, missing a piece of him as he sat inside Dean's head.

He lay back against the seat, emerging himself into his imagination.

Him and Cas in a grey scale forest, sitting on the ground around a flame, scoring the ground with their blunted fingers, just the two of them. Something watched them from the shadows though. Dean could see its yellow eyes as they glinted sharp in the fire. Flickered tones of a hushed fear. Cas laughed inside his head, unaware of the things that looked on, genuinely happy for once, walking away from him after a little while and going towards a lake where he stripped his clothes off roughly as he went, a fabric trail for Dean to follow. He picked up the items as he went; glasses, watch, shoes, shirt. Castiel couldn't be seen, the only trace of him the things he shed. Glimpses of a pale arm or the heel of a foot disappearing behind trees. When Dean found him we has already submerging himself, stopping when he saw Dean and inviting him to join, a wet hand pulling on his leg to come swim, forcing him down when he said no.

Dean opened his eyes and got out of the car deciding he should get more sleep. No good comes of an imagination like that.

Cas showered with cool water, taking much time to do so, letting the water down his every rounded curve as stood below the stream of cold to chill his sleep heated body, thinking about what he and Dean could possibly have to talk about. He realised the time he was taking and hurriedly shampoo'd his hair, the fallen water making his eyes sting. At least he'd smell good when Dean got back.

He wanted to change into something old and comfy but decided he'd better make some kind of effort, opting for a big grey sweater to warm his now chilled body and a pair of black jeans that he wasn't sure why he owned. They looked good but they didn't feel very him. He went back to the bathroom and shaved, not cleanly, just so he didn't look so derelict and weather beaten, and then he waited in the silenced home for Dean to come back.

What if he didn't? He could've forgotten or found something better to do. Cas wouldn't be surprised if Dean ditched him for someone more interesting, but he heard the hard raps on the door clear as day as if it were a tune, and he almost persuaded himself it was a travelling salesman that time, but not quite. He knew it was Dean.

He invited him in and cleared his books from the sofa, putting them on the floor next to Dean's feet, who looked amusedly at them, like it was strange for someone to read such things for fun or for school. Sam had some like that, thick tome like blocks. He would bring them with him when he had holidays and had to come back home, and he would ignore the world completely when he read them, whether he could hear people or not, escapism in its rawest form.

He wondered if Cas would rather read a book than be in his company. From investigating the spines he guessed Cas studied history; ancient Greece and Rome, and Latin.

He thought about asking Castiel what he was actually saying when he used exorcising rituals, but that would entail letting him in on the big hunter secret. People weren't meant to know that demons really existed. They existed in stories and nowhere else. But where did people think the stories came from? The demons success was based on naivety. But they told some people didn't they...they'd told plenty in the past and they turned out just fine.

There was something about Castiel that wasn't right to Dean though. He was attracting the things like ants to sugar water-they obviously needed him for something, and so wherever he was, there'd be demons. Castiel was a demon magnet and Dean could use him to find them all out, send them all back to hell. He could find out why they wanted him. What made him so special?

As much as Dean hated the idea of introducing someone into the world of hunting, he wanted Cas to be his partner, the bait for hungry demons and himself the final trap, ready around the corner with the spray painted devil's traps, iron and exorcising rituals.

They could take on evil together, carry on with the family business, save people.

He got lonely working by himself all the time, nobody to tell him right from wrong or mock his music taste, not a soul to question where he went the night before and judge him for eating so much junk. Cas could probably do that, he could impersonate FBI and Dean could teach him how to handle a gun and how to decapitate a vampire. He was rushing but there was no other way to go. He wanted this for some reason he couldn't put his finger on.

Castiel was already broken, why bother fixing him when it could all be used for good-no point in fixing a vase when it was just going to be dropped again- it wasn't like more people wouldn't die...well, it looked like the demons were after him now after eliminating all of his weaknesses. Dean would vow to protect him and poor little Castiel wouldn't feel guilty after a kill, he'd feel justified. Killing the things that killed his. He'd become ruthless, a useful asset in finding the thing that killed Mary. He'd never be Sam, but he'd come close enough. It was about time he started hunting with somebody again and Castiel happened to come along at the right time.

He was shy, reserved and nervous but there was an ominous presence of something powerful.

Dean felt awful. He was to tamper with an innocent life. A life already made unpure.

Dean wanted it for nobody but himself.

'You wanted to talk?' Cas questioned, handing Dean a cup of coffee and sitting next to him on the sofa, a safe distance away so he wouldn't come across as being too friendly.

'I want to tell you the truth.'

Would Cas notice if he slipped an extra something into his coffee. The flask was in his jacket pocket. Lacing things with alcohol didn't actually count as drinking in his books.

Cas looked to the side, unaware that Dean was ever not telling the truth.

Dean didn't want to see his eyes, they were too wide and wrong in every way. His body language became drawn and where it once faced Dean it now faced the wall. Dean knew he shouldnt be asking for any of the things he wanted.

'Truth about what?' Cas cradled his hot cup of tea and blew on the top in a way he though nonchalant. His t.v was on in the background, a dull murmur of the news that didn't allow the room to go too silent. The truth was a such a silly thing. Why bother with it when it was such a rare commodity these days. Cas didn't tell it. Neither did Dean. Few really did and even then it would likely be traced with the untruths of those before. The world they lived in was fiction.

'Me, what I do...how I knew that Henry was possessed.'

Dean talked for more than an hour and the things he said made Cas feel sad.

...

'You want me to help you hunt these things, rather than let them hunt me?' Cas said calmly, popping the top off his beer. He didn't want to. He'd rather die. He'd been avoiding...running from these things his whole life, why would he go out and chase them, the ultimate fate for them to bring him down faster than they would have if he kept on running. Dean said he could save people, do the world a favour. Castiel owed the world nothing though. The world owed him. He was owed a life that he never got to have; supportive parents, a scholarship, a life where nobody around him died due to suspicious circumstances. To die a noble death was no great comfort. Dean might have thought himself a hero but in Cas' eyes it was all a tiny bit crazy. He wanted to teach at the university as soon as he was qualified enough, not fight evil as a day job. He thought Dean was stupid for giving up a normal life to go risk his own.

Demons chased him.

It was too exciting.

Why him? He was nothing special. He knew he was anxious and afraid...he'd be no help in any way, shape or form. If he saw a monster he'd run. Who would choose to fight face on?

Idiots like Dean Winchester apparently. Stupid guys with pretty faces but no brains to match.

Dean nodded enthusiastically from across the couch. He looked at Cas' face for a sign of something. He was a blank canvas. Dean wanted him to paint on a smile for his sake. Cas brought his knees up onto the sofa and rearranged himself to face Dean front on. He had found a something in him that he didn't think existed during Dean's talk. He now knew that Dean was lonely and afraid and he would die trying to prove otherwise.

'No.' he said simply, then he smiled and took a sip of beer. Dean watched the way it wetted his smug, slightly parted lips. He sat more confidently now, his back straight as he stared Dean down. He couldn't just turn up at his house uninvited and expect Cas to drop everything for him. He didn't even know him, not really. Castiel knew that if he got into this it wouldn't just be demons that they'd destroy, going by what Dean had said there'd be vampires and shapeshifters and God knows what else. He wasn't quick or clever, he couldn't use a gun and he'd hold Dean back. He'd be bait and he'd be eaten. The only thing he might be remotely good at would be lore.

Dean was great, he wanted to get to know him and be his friend, but not like this, not stuck in the front of the Impala for hours on end until he contemplated killing him, holed up the same motels that dotted the highway and stuck in the same little towns, saving people that didn't even deserve it. So no. He didn't want to hunt.

'What do you mean no?' Dean moved closer to Cas, unaware he was doing so, and Cas did the same, slowing breaking the respectful distance between them without knowing it. Cas saying no was wrong and it drove Dean crazy. Cas should do what he was told and not try to break the rules. Disobedience didn't suit him. This wasn't him. He was asking the guy he met and drank with at the bar, not the Castiel he sat with today.

'Just no...you haven't even tried to persuade me in the slightest...you don't sell yourself well.' Castiel shrugged slightly, pulling his long sweater sleeves into the hollow of his hands so just his fingers creeped over the edges. He rested his elbows on his crossed knees. 'I'm not going to drop everything for you Dean.' he said that more timidly, as if he had found himself once more. It was easier to say if he could hide behind something.

Dean liked the way Castiel said his name. Liked that he remembered his name. Sometimes people didn't.

From what Dean had heard there wasn't much for Cas to leave behind. He had a year left of college...Dean could wait a year for him easily. In the meantime he could visit and teach him the things he'd need to know. He could hunt on his own for a little while longer, or he could rent a flat for a year and settle in, get a job like Sammy thought he should. But he didn't want to. Hunting was all he knew. An office job would be torture and he wasn't the sort to settle. He'd tried and it almost killed him.

They sat apart.

'How can I make you think it's a good idea?' Dean asked, a grin beginning to play on his trusting face. He tilted his head at Cas coyly. He wasn't going to let his time be wasted.

'You can't...just at least give me some time to think about it all.'

And that meant no.

Cas sipped his beer again and turned his attention to the t.v, changing channels to watch an old Doctor Who episode, all attention turned away from Dean. He didn't understand it himself. When he first saw Dean he thought he had a face he'd be able to stare at for hours, memorising his every curve and crevice, yet he found it so easy to look away. Because he knew that when he looked back Dean wouldn't be gone. If he became friends with Dean he might not die, he'd fend off the demons that chased him. Dean could be the one to save him. He still didn't want to hunt but he could keep Dean clinging on with the hope that he'd change his mind. It might be nice to be in control.

'Castiel?' Dean asked, watching Cas' profile.

Cas turned to face him, his expression changing.

'How many have died?' He didn't want to ask but he felt like he had to. He wanted an idea of how screwed up Cas was. The more the better. He realised how sad it seemed that he hoped a man to be in pain for his own benefit but he supposed it was how he could get things done. He wanted Castiel's rage for himself.

'Nine...would you excuse me.' Cas stood up from the sofa and walked to the kitchen. He stood on his tiptoes to reach the highest shelf of the cupboard, pushing aside the boxes and finding the pills. He braced himself against the sink as he swallowed them for the first time in a long time. A cocktail of crazy entering his body. He didn't truly know why but he guessed that he only took them because he wanted to see what would happen and because he felt sad. Dean didn't want him, he wanted the voices in his head and he wanted the mystery that surrounded him. At least if he collapsed or had any other side effects then Dean was there to phone for an ambulance.

Dean was there...Cas could sense him standing in the doorway.

'Who came before Henry?' Dean knew he shouldn't be digging away at a grave he knew he wouldn't be able to fill back up again but he was curious. Why was Cas broken? Why did he take pills?

Sam had told him about Harry, and about Amelia and he felt wrong when he visited Sam after Castiel's sessions, trying to avoid him in the waiting room as he came out. He wanted to know everything about Cas though, and if it meant breaking confidentiality then he was all up for it. If it was anyone else he wouldn't. Cas was his exception.

'My mother.' Cas said almost inaudibly, thinking about repeating himself in case Dean didn't hear him first time. He grasped at the sides of the sink, tightening his grip to steady himself. He still wasn't over it. It hurt.

His own mother, the one who kissed him goodnight even when he got too old for it to still be cute. He still let her kiss him because he knew it meant something and knew it wouldn't be long before she went away too like all the others, it all just a matter of time before her eyes went black and his momentarily perfect little world would crumble up again. A hug and kiss a day wouldn't keep the monsters away. His mom who told him stories about the Titanic before he went to bed and helped him trace back their family history to see if they were related to anyone who traveled on it, fueled his passion for boats and took him on trips even though she got seasick. The one who went to see the film with him and who comforted him when he cried about Jack and sang 'My heart will go on' with him in the car on the journey back home. The same woman who encouraged him to do history when the rest of the family went into veterinary work despite his fathers reservations and disapproval. She told him it didn't matter and that she'd be proud no matter what he did with his life. He was the youngest of the three and her baby, who cuddled up with her when she was sick and stood up for her when he got old enough to fight back. She was the one who pursed her lips and became irate when he acted recklessly and came home with cuts and bruises. A mother's love taken away. His only saving grace was that he got as much time as he did. She got to see him graduate and saw him through his first years of university. It still didn't seem very fair though. He was grateful for Gabriel, the one who stayed strong throughout and arranged the funeral, who sorted out the will and checked up on Cas every day to see how he was doing. It was a year of fake smiles and holding on.

'Mine too.' Dean leaned against the door frame with him arms crossed. It seemed mother's died too early a lot of the time. He and Cas had finally found some common ground. 'It's hard.' They both had to grow up too quickly, matured minds way past their actual age and forced to obtain a fierce independence that grew with them in different ways.

Cas nodded, Dean watching the nape of his neck as he did so.

Dean didn't know what compelled him to do so but he walked to Cas and grabbed his shoulder, forcing his body to face him and stop shying away for once. He was stupid for always being so diffident. Cas was so stupid and cute and not very wrong at .

'If you won't hunt for me, then hunt for your mom.' he stated, staring into Cas' eyes, capturing the foamy blue sadness they possessed.

He tilted his head and Dean saw the corners of his mouth turn down slowly, his face distorting into an unexpected snarl. Cas pushed him away roughly, a lot of force stored up in his seemingly little body. He looked down at himself then back to Dean. He didn't know he was capable of ever pushing someone.

If this was what Castiel could hide then Dean definitely wanted to go hunting with him, irrational spurts of anger or not.

'What's your fucking problem?' he shouted, Dean stepping back into the counter, letting Cas cast him aside. 'You don't bring my mom into this.' he fumed a flush reaching his skin.

Something was flaring inside Cas, a holy fire burning away at his insides, melting every piece of him until it wasn't really him at all, just a liquid mess.

Dean had no right to use his mom as some kind of twisted bargaining chip. He thought they had something in common because both their mothers were dead? They had nothing. Dean was a nobody, a speck of dust in Castiel's life. An egotistical, selfish bastard who only cared about his own gain. 'Just go, I don't want to see your stupid face.'

He was going to punch him if Dean didn't go and he knew it would be a move he'd regret. His face was obnoxious and he hated everything about him. He should go be an Abercrombie & Fitch model with his stupid sun kissed skin and chiselled jaw. They shouldn't even be in the same room because they were leagues apart and nothing could change that, absent mothers or not.

Dean moved towards Castiel, who flinched and backed away, reigniting his flame from just glancing at Dean's face. 'You couldn't save her Cas.'

Dean didn't understand. Why hunt other than for vengeance, he had reason to, most hunters did. Family members taken by the unholy. An unstoppable desire to put things right. It could make Cas right. He'd treat him so good on the road, he'd make sure he was fed and got enough sleep, throw away his medication. He would give Castiel anything he wanted just to be involved in his little world. He just wanted to hunt nowadays. There was nothing else left for him to do anymore.

'Don't you dare bring my mom into this.' Castiel spat, trying to get as far away from Dean as possible inside the small kitchen. 'I told you.'

Dean could see the fear, the anger, the hate inside Castiel. The way he projected himself into something else when he let the emotions out where he was so much darker and scarier even because Dean knew that if he really wanted to he could get nasty. The way his cheeks tinted pinker and his lips the same, how his hands shook and he let his hair flop forward from its usual uniform messy form. It made him angry too, frustrated. Castiel didn't get to be mad at him. It wasn't meant to be. He was meant to say yes when Dean offered him a chance at a different life and they were meant to drive off into the sunset. He should be grateful.

'You think you're so special because you're the only one who ever lost something?' He spat at Castiel 'It's pathetic, I've lost more people than I can count because I couldn't save them...people I loved and you're the only one who gets to be sad?'

'You're not the hero you think you are Dean, I bet you create more chaos than you solve.'

That stung him more than it thought it would. He tried. Castiel had to see that he tried...

'I'd rather be this than fucking insane like you are.'

Cas pushed him against the wall, getting close and personal, his face pressed to Dean's so their noses almost touched. 'I'm not insane.' he said through gritted teeth.

Dean regretted his words then, but he flipped himself over so it was Cas who's back faced the wall. He had to be in control. Besides Cas was shorter.

'You called me cute last time I saw you.' he snarled, looking at Dean with disgust. 'You won't think I'm cute...'

As they stood inches apart the kitchen was hot, burning white. Cas' ears rung and his head pounded. 'I don't think you're cute.' he bit back with a growl springing forward.

He grabbed the front of Castiel's sweater and pulled him closer, bunching it up in a fist, the material soft and warm in his hands. He put his forehead to Cas', never losing his contact with Castiel's confused, defiant eyes, both of their breaths heavy in the confined space they'd created, anger still burning through both their veins. The room was clouded and neither could see. 'Do you still want me to go?' he said roughly, his voice gravel. Cas looked down. He didn't know what he wanted. 'Do you?' Dean repeated, pressing into Cas.

'No.' he whispered sharply into Dean's lips, the latter catching his words and holding them. He didn't want Dean to go anymore.

'Good.' Dean pressed his lips harshly to Castiel's, both of them stumbling back hard into the wall, Cas' back colliding with it but not feeling a thing as they moved, Cas' hand finding Dean's in the moment and linking his fingers around Dean's. He pushed back against Dean harder, wanting to consume him, sucking hard on his bottom lip, earning a loud moan, a tight squeeze around his hand so it hurt until he let go and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, never close enough to really feel him. They were still so angry and it showed. Dean's lips left his, a harsh smacking sound, and traveled. He pecked Cas' cheekbones with force and moved down to his jawline leaving a line of kisses pressed firmly into his skin so they lasted, down further towards his neck, Castiel lifting his head to accommodate Dean's scowling mouth which wanted to bite. He slid slightly down the wall, his knees weak as Dean sucked on his neck, tearing down the top of his sweater to touch his collar bones. Cas grabbed at Dean's hands and looped them tight around his waist where Dean rubbed the skin of his hips, sweater riding up as Cas pushed his hips forward. Cas ducked and caught Dean's lips again, guiding him into lifting his head, silently asking for him to open his mouth. He didn't oblige to the demand, pulling back after a single dirty kiss on the side of Cas' mouth. Cas groaned in disapproval and pulled back too, sliding back into the wall in hopes of steadying his rapid heartbeat and the pounding in his head, to try to calm his ragged breaths. He looked at Dean from under his eyelashes, trying to feel the fury. Dean was savage.

'Fuck.' Dean panted, one hand still curled around Castiel's exposed hip. He wasn't frustrated anymore.

He looked at what he'd done; Cas' messed up hair and the little red marks that littered his neck, the way his lips had gone raw and red and plump. He looked insanely hot and it burned Dean to think he'd been the creator of such a mess.

Dean pushed Castiel's hair out of his face lightly, just because he thought he should and was greeted with a worn out sigh from Cas who went to open his mouth to say something but was quietened before anything could leave. 'Your mom became a part of it a long time ago Cas...all the people you loved...I'm sorry.' he soothed, trying to calm him down the best he could, continually, rhythmically stroking and pushing his hands through Cas' hair ruined hair. It was still damp in places. He knew he should stop touching Cas but he didn't want to.

'You're making me so angry Dean.' Cas said quietly, exhausted from the unexpected outburst even though he wanted more. He didn't have the energy to move Dean's hands away even if he wanted to.

'I know baby, I know.'

Cas flicked his eyes up into Dean's.

Dean realised his mistake and bit his lip quickly. It was a habit. A really stupid habit, a reckless one too. Cas was a guy and he only called the Impala and girls baby. Guys shouldn't. It felt like the right thing to say.

Cas wasn't like most guys.

It was just a kiss Dean told himself whenever he looked at Cas as he sat on the couch, hugging a cushion to his chest as they watched tv. He was angry at the time and it was just a kiss. A way for both of them to let it out. All the angst and frustration and because Dean wanted to try something new.

They sat on opposite ends again but sometimes they accidentally touched toes and it sent little shivers down both of their backs.

He knew it wasn't just a kiss, and he tried to ignore the voice in his head that told him he liked it and should do it again. He wasn't gay...Cas was just an exception to that rule. It also happened that at the time Cas looked extremely kissable with all his pent up anger coming out and he didn't think...

'How can you afford to live here if you're a student?' Dean asked, not sure if Cas was paying attention to him anymore. It would be so easy for him to lean forward and kiss him again, softly this time, letting it linger on his skin. There was just something about Castiel that drove him slowly but surely insane. It could have been the way his hair looked like he'd just had sex or how he parted his lips subconsciously, the air of obliviousness that followed him and made him see the things Dean couldn't and how he sometimes didn't understand the things that should have been hard wired into him a long time ago.

'How did you know that?' Cas didn't look away from the screen, smiling sweetly to himself as he watched Dean writhe from the corner of his eye. Dean had kissed him, hot and heavy and now he was feeling the aftermath where as Cas didn't really feel anything. He'd been kissed plenty of times.

'Sammy mentioned it, I remembered.' Dean said almost proudly. 'You're so young.' Cas finally turned to him, Dean's shining eyes making him happy. He felt just so happy and he hated that Dean made it so. It would make it harder to let go when the time came.

He tilted his head. 'You and Sam talk about me?' he questioned, briefly sticking out his bottom lip. Everything he told Sam he told in confidentiality. But him being a student was hardly a secret that he had trusted Sam to keep. He didn't want Dean to know about how wrong he really was. Of course he knew something wasn't quite right, he'd seen him ingest a selection of pills earlier and he'd witnessed his car park antics but he couldn't know the full extent of it; the white noises and the talk of Dean Winchester by names he didn't know but names he was familiar with.

'Sam said you're one of his favourite people, he thinks you're interesting.'

'Is interesting another word for crazy?' Cas asked, picking thread from the cushion, the antlers from the little stag that was sewed into it. He was aware of Dean's eyes upon him and it burned. He wasn't crazy, he just wasn't quite himself.

He went to the window and looked at the sky. It was red tonight, soon to be swallowed by a vast blackness. The moon was a piece of crumbling bone and the sky blood. He stared for a while until it began fade to pink and then to nothing, little lights flicking on in the vastness of it and Cas realised how small he really was, wrapping his arms around himself and sitting back down, closer to Dean this time. He wanted to lean against him and be for a little while because it all seemed so perfect but he didn't know how Dean felt about him and he didn't want to come across as easy. A kiss meant nothing, it was just Dean's way of telling him to stop talking. To do it again would be...reckless. But would be so easy to fit himself under Dean's neck and curl up with him, to lift his head and place sneaky kisses on his jaw. There was a difference between a sweet, sincere kiss and an angry, aroused one though.

'I don't think you're crazy...I wasn't thinking back there, I just said everything to upset you.'

'You don't?' Cas looked at the floor with a puzzled look. Everyone else did and he didn't mind it. There was something wrong with him and he accepted it. Most caterpillars grew into butterflies sooner or later, he just had a broken wing and no butterfly friends help him fly, only moths who didn't understand why he traveled so close to the ground. Dean could be a butterfly.

Dean shook his head and stroked his hand through Cas' hair, breaking their unspoken boundaries 'I think you're cute.'

This was wrong.

'Would you wait for me Dean?' he asked quietly, building up more confidence as he went along. 'One year, I'll get better for you.' Cas needed to touch Dean, show him that he was human. He needed Dean to know that this was all for him. If Dean would let him he would give it all up for him. 'Don't get yourself in trouble for a while, not until I can be there to get you out of it.' he spoke, picking up his pace, unable to stop himself now 'And don't get hurt because I don't know what i'd do if you weren't there in a year's time...it's stupid I know but just promise you won't go.' He was calmed by Dean's arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him into his lap so his head would rest on his chest. One steamy kiss in a kitchen was all it took for Castiel. The gestures that followed then assured him. He was falling...he had fallen.He didn't want to act like he didn't want Dean anymore.

'I can't promise that Cas.' He felt so fragile in his grasp, so feathery that he could drift away if he forgot to hold on tight enough. Castiel hung his head, putting his face into Dean's shirt as the latter kissed the top of his head and told him it was okay.

He thought that maybe Dean liked him enough, thought he would stay for him.

Sentimental fool. It wasn't like sweet little kisses meant anything after all. Of course Dean wouldn't wait. He had his own life, he'd travel from place to place trying to save people's lives while Cas studied and got ready to accept his degree. He'd fight demons while Cas finished his course of therapy, and he'd never settle down when it was all Cas wanted to do. Cas would be lucky if Dean visited him even once a month. Even then he knew it would be difficult and they'd have nothing in common anymore, eventually leading to a drift in whatever they had. They would see each other around sometimes if they were ever in the same town and they wouldn't remember a thing.

He put his head in Dean's chest for the rest of the night while Dean lingered his hands all over Cas and tried not to fall asleep as he listened to the rapid beating of his heart, trying not to notice that it picked up every time he kissed him. Dean stared at Cas, unable to take his eyes off him for more than seconds at a time. He had to make sure he was still there, like he could slip away when he wasn't looking. He wasn't sure why he felt so protective over Cas, most likely because he felt that Castiel deserved to be looked after after all the shit he'd been put through. Hell, he would've given anything for something like this when he was Cas' age...except not with a guy, but if Cas swung that way then who was he to stop it. If Cas was cute who was he to stop himself?

'I'm not actually gay.' Dean mumbled into Cas' hair. Cas lifted his head and looked at him contently.

'That's okay.' He didn't want any other man to have him anyway. There was the slight problem of women but he could work around that. 'But what's this?'

Dean shrugged his shoulders 'I don't have a choice when it comes to this...you just feel right.'

Dean was silent for a minute before tilting his head up and kissing Castiel's actual lips instead of all the other places he found pleasure in touching; his hands, his neck, shoulders, hair, anywhere but his mouth. It only lasted a second, a sweet little meeting of their lips, just wanting to feel an actual response to his contact apart from the feel of Cas smiling into his chest.

'Cas?'

Cas made a noise of registration.

'If I was gay though...would you let me fuck you?' Dean asked, catching Cas off guard. Kissing was one thing but sex was a whole different story. To feel exposed and have to put his complete trust in a man he'd known for two weeks maximum. 'Because I would.'

'You're not my type.' Cas replied airily, gasping as Dean playfully nipped his neck in disagreement, turning it into a kiss by means of apology and lightly sucking the already pinkened skin. Dean didn't know what was happening to him, putting it down to sexual frustration as he ran his hands along Cas' body. He wanted to make Cas feel good and that in return would give him all the satisfaction in the world. When did Dean Winchester get to be so considerate?

Hr grabbed Cas' hips and brought them forward. 'Tell me I'm your type Cas, tell me we'd be good together.'

Castiel squirmed in his grip, resting his forehead on Dean's and touching him lightly on the lips. 'You're not my type.' Cas repeated, rolling his hips forward, grazing Dean's crotch and making him momentarily weak with his brief contact. Dean smirked, Cas was playing a game he could never win. He'd indulge him though. Of course Dean was his type, no other type would be right for him. Some called it destiny and others may call it plain good luck but Castiel and Dean worked together perfectly.

'C'mon baby, I am now, you've changed it.' He bit Castiel's bottom lip. He wanted to hear him say it so badly even though he persuaded himself he was fine without. Wanted the words to come from Castiel's mouth that he needed him, then it would be legitimate. He wouldn't be doing this because he had a stupid crush on someone who wasn't a female, but because Castiel needed him and wanted him.

Cas pulled back from Dean's affection, seemingly tired of it all, tucking himself back under Dean's chin, reaching his hand up to stroke his scratchy, stubble covered cheek.

It wasn't fair. He couldn't get Dean all riled up and expect him to just take it. Castiel was frustrating and he did it on purpose, keeping Dean on tenterhooks, that way it would be harder for him to go.

'Do you want to stay the night, sleep on the couch?' Cas asked, muffling a yawn. He didn't want Dean to know how exhausted he felt wrapped in his arms. He could drift off right there and then with sheer complacency. That would mean the night would end and in the morning he'd be gone. He didn't trust Dean not to sneak off. The night was all either of them had.

'I'd rather sleep next to you.'Dean admitted, half just flirting, half serious.

It'd been a while since he had someone laying next to him in bed, and even then it was probably just the aftermath of meaningless sex. He wondered whether he was trying to go too fast with Castiel. He responded to him nicely but why rush. He had all the time in the world.

He felt bad that he couldn't promise Cas that he'd always be there but he couldn't bring himself to say it when he knew he'd break it soon as the words left his mouth. He was a hunter. He hunted. The way that you couldn't take someone who worked in IT and expect them to suddenly start a daycare business when all they really knew was computers. In the same way you couldn't expect Dean to get a proper job. All Dean knew was killing things and he was good at it too. Just because he didn't promise him it didn't mean he wasn't going to visit, and he was going to think about Cas in all the time that he was hunting. Then he'd sleep next to him, not yet though.

'Cas, what happened to your mom?'

Castiel didn't answer, he'd fallen away into slumber. Dean still held on to him, not caring for the deadness it created in his body. He watched Cas' sleeping body, trying not to move an inch for fear of waking him. He shouldn't do that. Look at a man with desire and concern and lust, be protective and anxious, feel so good in his company. He was an angel, metaphorically speaking, and although it seemed like something Sam would say; too precious for this world. Dean didn't care if he was 'broken'. Broken was perfect.

Cas didn't stir until Dean's phone rang. He looked up at Dean with embarrassment. 'I'm so sorry I fell asleep.' he blushed, not very sorry at all. If anything it was Dean's fault for keeping him up. He tried to ignore that he had work in the morning and a paper due in a couple of days time. He might have to fall back on Becky again for help, and she'd sigh at him and say that he had to take more control of his life and plan his days out better. Even if he had written a schedule for the day ahead it wouldn't have involved Dean, so it would have to be scrapped. spontaneity was good. It kept him on his toes. He couldn't see Dean for a couple of days though; he needed to get things done. School was more important that a flimsy romance. He imagined bringing Dean onto campus, rushing to see him in his free periods and texting him in lectures. He was acting like a giddy school girl.

He was puzzled as to why Dean wasn't answering his cell that had rung twice now.

'It's okay, I'll phone them back.' he yawned, deciding it would be okay to sleep on the sofa after all. Cas didn't want to get too close. That was fine. He was glad that Cas was a challenge, that he wasn't easy. But maybe if he'd tried harder they'd both be in Castiel's bed by now. Sex was sex, he didn't care if it was with a guy...well, with Cas anyway.

Dean told Cas of his intentions to sleep downstairs that night, who sleepily went upstairs and got some blankets before kissing Dean's forehead and retiring to his own bed. He wished he hadn't asked Dean to sleep on the couch, it seemed so fabricated. He sat in bed and worried. It didn't seem right to get so familiar and then leave him downstairs, and he probably should have made him a drink, and kissed him somewhere other than the forehead because it seemed so paternal. He didn't stop worrying until he drifted off.

Four hours.

Dean woke up with a stiff neck and made his way to Cas' kitchen, doubting he'd really mind if he made himself some coffee. He phoned Bobby back after Cas went to bed, accepting the hunting job he was offered straight away. Anything to take his mind of Cas. It was unhealthy.

Hunting was an escape route, a place where he had to use all his instincts, take risks and make incisive decisions. Thinking about Castiel would get him killed and he was really trying not to die for Cas' sake. Besides it would be nice to see some different scenery. He hadn't had a kill since two weeks back, a vetala nest with a couple of hunters who saved his skin out there. That was the point though, the thrill of being so close to death that if he squinted he could see the shadow of a reaper. As much as he said he hated it, Dean lived for hunting and not even Cas could ever change that. Death would be his bitch until he finally caught up and caught him from behind.

He went up to check if Cas was okay, poking his head around doors until he found the right one. It wasn't right for Cas to live in a house with so many empty rooms.

He lay small in the double bed, the whole duvet wrapped around him, cocooning him in entirely. It would be so easy to slip in next to him, unravel him from his shell and hold him until he held on back. Fuck hunting.

He didn't though, he simply kissed Cas on the forehead, same as Cas had done to him, and went on his way, remembering to leave a note.

Dean phoned Sam as he sat in the Impala outside Castiel's house, finger hovering over his name, unsure of what to do.

'Sammy, talk me out of doing something stupid.' he laughed sadly to himself, checking his appearance in the rear view mirror, smoothing down his ruffled hair so he didn't look like one of the best had been a rough night. He kept thinking that if he looked at Cas' window the curtains would open for him and Cas would frown and wonder where he was going and why he left without so much as a goodbye. He pressed the call button.

Sam answered his phone almost immediately, surprising Dean that he was awake so early, barely giving him any time to prepare himself as he had planned to do.

'I gotta come see you.' Dean said, already beginning to drive to Sam's place. It wasn't far from Cas', they both chose to live in flimsy little areas.

Sam didn't question it, instead making a pot of coffee and getting himself out of the psychiatrist mind set. If he analysed him, Dean would get mad and refuse to speak to him and bottle up his feelings even more than he did on most days at the clinic. He hated the word clinic. Clinic meant patients and he didn't help patients, he helped clients.

Dean arrived in a fluster, barging in when Sam opened the door and making his way to the living room. Sam was another person who had too many empty rooms, some with just odd piles of books in them. Sam rolled his eyes at his melodramatic brother and followed him. He looked bad, worse than usual and Sam didn't know whether to be glad that his brother was paying him a visit or worried for the the exact same reason.

'What is it?' Sam asked at the doorway, watching Dean spread himself out on the couch. He shot a disapproving look at Dean's feet which rested boot clad on his furniture. Dean sighed loudly and fidgeted on the sofa. 'I've done something so stupid.'

'You gonna tell me what you did?' Sam asked, knowing that chances were that Dean wouldn't.

'No, I can't.'

Sam shoved Dean to make a space for him to sit. 'Well what am I meant to do then?' Sam liked to think he was the voice of reason in Dean's life. Who else would be?

Dean pulled a face.

'It's so wrong, but I want it to be right Sammy.' he pouted. Sam fetched him a cup of coffee which he accepted gratefully. 'Tell me it's wrong and that I shouldn't do it.'

'You're not giving me many clues here.' Sam said, to which Dean shook his head and sat up. 'I can't tell you because it's not something I'd do.'

'I'll support you whatever you do, you know that.'

Sam was pissed off that Dean refused to tell him. They'd been through so much shit together, how could he ever think anything Dean did was wrong, he had looked up to him since he was four years old. Looking at Dean he seemed distressed and agitated but Sam could peel that back and see that he was practically ecstatic, warmth radiating from him. Whatever he'd done he was pleased with himself. But he claimed that what he'd done was wrong.

'Just do what you want, it's not you'll listen to me anyway, but be careful that it doesn't bite you in the ass Dean.'

'It won't be my ass getting bitten.'

Castiel woke up to Dean's note; his phone number and another number that he said Cas should call if he didn't pick up the first one. He didn't say where he'd gone, just that they might not see each other for a few days and not to worry about him. Cas already knew he'd gone hunting and to ask him not to worry was plain stupid.

He was happy though, despite Dean's departure. He felt good.

It felt normal.

About ten minutes after Dean left the phone rang, interrupting Sam's shower. He ran downstairs with a towel on, hair leaving wet trails down his back and down the stairs, beginning to puddle at his feet as he stood still to answer the house phone.

'I'm calling about Castiel, is it okay if I come and visit you?'

'How's...' Sam quickly went through his appointments for the day in his head '...three?'

'Three is good, see you there.'

Gabriel was worried and he wanted proof that Castiel wasn't coping as well as he said he was. The kid had too many deaths put upon him of late and he needed to know how to help. He hadn't always been there in the ways he should have, getting Cas into trouble more often than getting him out of it and he wanted to make it up to him, make it all easy as possible and finally break it to him that Michael was dead and that he feared he would be next.