"Carbon monoxide. Gecko hand print in soot. Vics dying of hypoxia. Bastard strong enough to hoof it from Cas. Great," Bobby grumbled on the other side of the line; his voice was somewhat muffled like he was holding the phone pressed between his cheek and shoulder, already browsing through his books or taking notes, "You know what, boy? There are these normal people who don't believe in any ghosts or demons or anything. Then there are hunters who dig like a few dozens of species of shit, and there are the Winchesters who always happen to stumble across something ten times crazier. Huh. You even managed to blag an angel... Why am I still surprised..."

Sam remained silent, hoping that Singer wouldn't hear Charlie's barely restrained laughter at his eye rolls and bitchfaces he was making while Bobby was still nagging, accompanied by a loud rustle of old paper, parchment and scrolls.

"Tell me now, was any candle burning when this sucker appeared?"

"What?" Sam sobered up momentarily, "No. I mean... Damn, you're right. They were candles, but they were all out. You mean you have a lead?"

"I mighta, but don't make me read the sucker's name out loud. It can be translated as a smotherer. An evil bastard that asphyxiates folks and guess what, he's from Slavic part of Europe. Congratulations on digging up two weirdest sonsofbitches ever in less than a month."

"No mention of a way of killing him?"

"Aw, you idjit, I thought we had it sorted out. Ancient Slavs weren't all that keen on killing their weirdo dei-tulpas or whatever. But there is a way of telling that he's coming. Candles go out."

Winchester started to ferret around. Charlie guessed what he needed and handed him her star-wars-themed mini notebook and a pen.

And yes, the pen's clicker was shaped like R2D2's head.

The hunter scrawled a few keywords.

"Anything about the vics, Bobby?" he asked hopefully, "We didn't find any connection."

"If I get this right, he goes about reckless people. That's all there is."

"Yeah. I guess letting a shady dude do whatever to you in a nigh club may counts as reckless..."

"So what, are you going to locate him today?"

Sam cleared his throat.

"Perhaps we should find a way to gank him first. Or, you know, instead of summoning we could just go off-hand. If he's drawn to reckless people..."

Bobby huffed in irritation.

"You could try an angel blade. Cas says it kills pretty much anything except these feathered asshole triplets."

"Quadruplets," Sam corrected and sighed, "and about that... Have you seen Cas?"

"Why would I see Cas? Last time I checked he was gallivanting around nightclubs with his new hubby and bro-in-law."

The look of disappointment and worry on his face must have been obvious. Charlie mirrored it without even hearing what Bobby said.

That was when they heard the door to Dean's room open, then his slow footsteps on the wooden gallery connecting the door to all the motel rooms. The hunter shambled into Sam's room without knocking, dressed in fresh clothes but with the air of sleepiness and weariness still lingering around him. He was shuffling his feet, yawning and squinting in the bright morning light.

Sam hastily thanked Bobby for his aid and hung up. Charlie gathered up her things, then chirped, tossing them to her black neoprene messenger bag:

"I think I'm gonna grab some caffeine... and, you know, do some research..."

"We can do it later. There's WiFi here and..." Sam began, but she horned in, tiptoeing towards the door.

"No, I've always wanted to do this. So nerdy. You two take your time and let Miss Spock do the trick. See ya, bitches!"

xXx

"What did you do to Cas?" Sam asked harshly. Dean squinted at him.

"What?"

"He left last night. Or technically, this morning. He isn't answering my prayers. Or the phone."

The older Winchester sat on the bed and eyed a small bottle of water provided by the motel. From his expression Sam could tell what he was thinking - that it probably tasted like it was poured into the bottle straight from the toilet. Dean curled his lip and placed the bottle back on the nightstand.

"Perhaps he's got his own business upstairs," he explained "Dude's busy. Now that he know what to do, we'll manage without him."

The younger man left his safe placing by the window and sat on a small stool, facing his brother.

"Dean, what did you do to him?" he insisted, aiding himself with the calming-persuasive gesticulation he had learned during an extracurricular course back in Stanford, "I know you aren't exactly a sharing type, but this is serious. Man, you have to level with me and tell me what's this all about."

"Why?" Dean rose his chin.

"Because..." Sam took a deep, calming breath, feeling with growing embarrassment that it was jerkier than he had hoped it would be "Well, you've done some crazy shit. I know, it was never my business so I kept my nose clean, but this time... This time it's Cas."

"And?" Dean tried to look unruffled, but there was an undertone of panic and anger in his voice.

"And I heard you last night." Sam announced solemnly.

The older Winchester was mortified. It lasted but a second, but for this second Sam could see all his fear and fury. Fury, that - most probably - he had tried to take out on Castiel earlier. Next moment he was able to maintain his usual devil-may-care attitude.

"So what? " He snarled, gesticulating dismissively, "All right, I banged a dude. What's the deal? I didn't go to college, but everybody has this phase, okay?"

Sam sighed. Why had he even hoped that it would go any different? Normally he would back off and let his brother make all the mistakes in the world, but this time he couldn't. This time the mistake would scar Dean for life.

"Dean. That's not the point," he insisted, surprised by the sheepish look of sheer confusion on Dean's face. It took Sam a while to process what shocked his elder so much, "Dude, I'm not judging you. To be honest, I don't care. I know you expected me to be hot and bothered, but, you know what? I'm sorry, but we've been through so much shit that I've run out of fucks to give about your sex life. I'm here because I wanna help you, not because I want to tell you something. I don't. I'm just saying that I'm right here."

The older Winchester gaped at him.

"So... You wanna go Dr Phil on me now?"

Sam pursed his lips. He hadn't expected this to go this smooth and he was still expecting a few hidden obstacles.

"Well, It's not exactly on my bucket list, but if wanna spill it, go ahead and spill it."

Dean's lips budged in a faint smile, but in no time he saddened again. He fixed his gaze on the drab, frayed carpet with his jaws set.

"How much do you know?" he finally choked out.

Sam swallowed back an angry grunt. Naturally. The big, self-reliant, unbowed Dean wanted to play this all on his own terms. The younger Winchester knew the other well enough to realize that it wouId be Dean's way or no way.

"I know that he's been downbeat, trailing around and asking weird questions, and clearly afraid of you for a couple of days," he reeled off, "It wasn't the first time, huh?"

There was a small nod, quick and tentative.

"Dude," the younger brother breathed in disbelief, "Didn't it occur to you that it was a total dick move?"

"It wasn't like that," Dean opposed in a small, brittle voice, "Earlier we didn't... Fuck it," he drawled out and took a deep breath, "Hell, if you need to know, last night was the first time we did the home run," he spat out with dogged fury, racing his own shame that would prevent him from speaking on.

Sam stood up to walk a few circles.

"Hold on. Let's sum up," he started stoutly, turning to face his brother "You hit on Cas, then I guess you hauled him over the coals for doing exactly what you wanted, right?" Dean's look confirmed Sam's concern, "Wow. Then you took his virginity. Shitfaced. They you asked him to hook it? Dean, you're starting to freak me out. Honestly, I never thought you could do something like this."

There was no reaction except that Dean hunched even more. Sam sat down again; he tried to catch his brother's look, but it every attempt was inviable. The older Winchester was engrossed in trailing the gray-and-brown zigzags on the carpet.

"Dean... Are you sure that he even wanted it?"

"Wh... What? Yes!" Dean bristled "He's a fucking Seraph. He could have smitten me like a flea if he wanted. There's no way I could...dunno. Force him to do anything."

"You sure?" Sam sighed; everything was starting to make sense, "Do you think he even understands what's going on? You can't just assume... Damn, you're lost and you know the topic inside out. He's not even human, Dean. You confuse the hell out of him," he stood up slowly and walked to the window to gather his thoughts, then turned to his brother, "Did you know that he almost asked me to have the sex talk with him yesterday? You need to talk to him. Explain. And apologize."

"There's nothing to talk about. All right. I'll try not to confuse him anymore, but I can't... He's a big boy, he'll get a grasp of it," the older Winchester assured hesitantly, but when he saw Sam's admonitory scowl, he snarled, jumping to his feet, "I'm not his father, goddamnit!"

"Yeah, but in some weird, trippy way you're his husband. I saw what happened during that ceremony. Dean, you're his only family. Who else can he talk to?" Sam made a wide gesture "His dad, who doesn't give a rats ass about him? These assholes and hellcats calling themselves his siblings? The only other angel that was equipped with something remotely resembling a heart was stabbed to death by Lucifer. Because of us. Because of you."

Dean stood immobile for a while, straightened up, breathing heavily, with his arms opened in a challenging gesture. Finally something broke in him.

"You know what?" he yelled, "I'm sick of it. I'm sick and tired of trying to wade through all the shit life throws at me. I have my limits. All you see is your mighty, precious righteous man or your infallible big brother, but fuck, Sam, I am a human. I'm not evil, but I do bad things. This whole shit's been over my head for years. I can't take it anymore. No one would be able take it. Sometimes I feel like I can't even breathe, but I try to go on because you believe in me. Now I make one mistake and you freak out like you saw a monster. Damnit! I need it. I need to be weak. I need to be stupid," Dean jabbed his finger at his own chest, "Let me, for fuck's sake. 'cause otherwise... Otherwise, I don't know..." he stormed out of the room and slammed the door.