Dean's POV

Sam fell ill on Tuesday and supposedly wasn't better until Thursday evening. I took an easy guess that he was faking being well again anyway and I was right. He was just missing Gabe, and was willing to go into school with a roaring headache and a temperature just to see him. As a result neither of us got an education on Friday, either. I had to pretend I'd caught the cold off of Sam to get out school to look after him, and it was worth it I suppose, but I really missed Cas. It was pointless denying it.

It's Saturday now, Sam's better, and I'm having a bad day.

I have no idea why, I just feel like crap and all I know is need to get out of the house. I should hit the gym, I know I should, it's what I usually do when I feel like this but that's not what I want to do today. I want to relax, but I don't want that feeling that I'm wasting my life. Wasting precious time that I could be spending getting some more money for my shipwreck of a family, or helping out Sammy with his homework.

I feel like I need to do something for me. I'm a selfish son of a bitch, I really am, but I just want, need, to feel happy. But how does one acquire happiness? God knows.

I think about my friends, I've gotten really close to Charlie recently. She's amazing, though she can be tiring sometimes, talking non-stop when I simply need a sofa and reassurance. She's kind of like the little sister I never wanted.

Then there's Sammy. It would be cool to do something with him, maybe re-watch an episode of Sherlock, the British show with the hot actor… what's his name? Benedict Cumberbatch. Yeah, that might be nice, but Sam's out with Gabriel somewhere. Good for him, I guess.

I know what I want. I want to hang out with Cas. I want to stare into those eyes and run my fingers through that matted hair. And most of all, I don't want him to stop me.

I barely even realise it when I'm driving to his house.

Cas' POV

The door knocks and I put down my copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix. I've been reading the series… again.

Gabriel's out with Sam, Mum isn't back until 10 this evening, and Charlie hasn't got a car - so at 11am, I have no idea who this person is that, just a minute ago, I heard pulling into my driveway.

I wander slowly downstairs towards the door, my brain still pondering who could be on the other side, and when I reach it I've given up on an answer. Something's probably up with the post, or suchlike.

I most definitely didn't expect this.

Dean Winchester, is standing at my door. He can't do this. He can't just come over to where I live and expect me to… I don't know. And then I remember Gabe and Sam, and that Dean is Sam's older brother, and just how could I have been stupid enough to think that Dean was coming over for me. But before I can say anything Dean's walking away, walking to his car, with his back turned to me.

"Dean?" I ask.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry Cas this was stupid of me. I'm going, ok. You won't see me again. It's cool. I'm sorry." Dean says the words quietly and carries on rushing back to the impala. I cock my head to the side; I'm so confused. What was Dean doing here? Didn't he just come to see if Sam was round? Why does he look so panicked and… flushed.

"Dean, wait!" I shout to him, and he stops walking, but doesn't turn back around to face me. "Why are you here? Why are you sorry? What did you do wrong?" I want Dean to stay. Part of me wants it because I need an explanation to his visit, and the other, smaller part, secretly wants him to stay because I haven't seen him in four days and however much I deny it, I've missed him.

"Four days, Cas." He says, as if reading my mind. "Why does it feel so long?" his voice is still muffled, and he's slowly turning around to face me. He still won't look me in the eyes though.

"I don't- what do you mean, Dean?"

"I feel like crap, alright? I woke up this morning and I didn't know what to do with myself, all I could think of was you. I just wanted to be near you Cas. I've missed you."

I open my mouth, but I have nothing to say.

"I'm sorry Cas." He looks me in the eyes this time. "I should leave." It was more of a question then a statement. Nevertheless, I don't say anything, still in shock. But he should leave, he definitely should, He's gotten too close to me recently. Way too close. He turns away yet again and I tell myself that that's the right thing, that he'd be doing both of us a favour by leaving, by taking back everything that he just said. But that's not what comes out of my mouth.

"Stay," I whisper, "Please."