Castiel – Day Four, in which the reason becomes clear.

The sunlight filtered in through the gap in the curtain, landing directly over Castiel's now open eyes. He shifted slightly, not quite ready to get out of bed, and watched the particles of dust floating about in the air. Dean was breathing faintly by his side, the gentle rise and fall of his chest warming the cockles of Castiel's heart. It had never occurred to him just how peaceful people can look in sleep, with the man beside him being a shining example of the restorative effect. Castiel took one last elongated look at Dean before slipping from his arms and out of the bed. Dean grunted slightly at the movement, but quickly resumed his silence mere seconds later.

Castiel dressed quickly, and then gingerly made his way out of the room and into the kitchen downstairs. No one else seemed to be awake, so he sat down on the couch and looked over the notifications on his phone. There was a text from Anna, telling Cas that she was okay but she would have to leave town for a while in order to keep safe. He quickly shot her a reply, questioning her reasons for leaving him in charge of the café until she returned. It was not supposed to be his turn at opening Wings today, which kinda pissed him off. Sorry folks, the café won't be open for a while.

The rest of the notifications were about small things that Castiel took interest in, with one of them in particular catching his eye. GISHWHES (The Greatest International Scavenger Hunt the World Has Ever Seen) 2012 was starting soon, and it was time to sign up for a team. He saved a screenshot so that he would not forget to join up when he had access to a proper computer.

Speaking of, apart from the two televisions, there seemed to be nothing else of the sort in the house. Using his iPhone, Castiel quickly scanned for any internet connections.

"Well, Dean, I think I know how I'm going to pay you back for your kindness," Castiel whispered to himself. A quick call to his current internet service provider yielded the information he needed, and in no time at all he had arranged for a connection to be made at this residence. The bill would be deducted from his own account, of course. "When is the soonest time you can come and install it?" he said to the operator.

For once, Castiel was grateful for his father's many connections. The man on the line recognised the name from his account details and offered to come out personally later that night to set it up. A curt goodbye and a thank you later left Castiel with a fuzzy feeling, knowing that he had done something (no matter how small) to help out the Winchester brothers.

Mere seconds after hanging up the phone, Sam entered the lounge room and bode good morning to Castiel, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes. Stifling a massive yawn, the youngest Winchester stumbled to the fridge and reached in for the milk and orange juice. Instead of pouring himself a glass, he drank straight from the bottle and gave a light smirk in Castiel's direction when he noticed that he was being watched.

"So, Dean awake yet?" he asked.

"Not yet."

"Did he say anything about taking me to school today?"

Castiel was silent for a moment, attempting to recall any conversation on the topic that he may have had with Dean. "I cannot say, though I think he's really tired after last night. We were up pretty late."

Sam spat out his juice, snorting with laughter at Castiel's poorly chosen words. "God, I know Dean is sweet on you, but come on, that fast?"

Castiel flushed red, fumbling for words. "N-no, not that! I didn't mean – is it hot in here?"

"Sam, stop tormenting our guest," interrupted Dean.

Thank God for Dean Winchester – saving me again. How many times is he going to be there? Castiel thought.

It was an enjoyable thing, watching the Winchester's go through their morning ritual. So far, it seemed that Castiel had not interrupted things one bit, so he was quite happy with that. Dean was fretting over the fact that he had no food to give Sam for lunch, nor did he have the money so he could buy it himself. He reluctantly allowed Castiel to 'lend' Sam twenty dollars (Cas did not want, nor expect to be payed back), and shortly after that, it was time for Dean to take Sam to school.

"I'll be ten minutes Cas, and I'll pick up some breakfast on the way back okay?" said Dean.

"Take your time," Castiel replied.

Alone in the house that Dean Winchester lived in, with ten minutes to entertain himself. What to do? Not much, apparently. Castiel searched in vain for photo frames, hoping to get a glimpse of baby Dean – just like Dean had paused to stop and admire all of the ones of himself back at his place. After that turned out less than fruitful, Castiel resigned himself to sitting in front of the television to catch the morning news.

A silver haired man with deep brown eyes was reading out the latest headlines, most of them things that Castiel chose not to listen to. He was about to change to the cartoon channel when something caught his attention.

"A young woman – believed to be connected to the downfall of LeviCorp – has gone missing recently. Whether it was her going into hiding, or the doing of the company she allegedly brought down, police are still searching for clues. She was last sighted with another woman of about the same age and of a similar appearance just outside of her hometown. If anyone has information, or knows these two women-" a picture came up beside him "-please alert the police. It could save a life, or even two." After a brief pause, the newscaster moved on to the next topic, but Castiel was no longer listening.

The picture was of his sister, Anna, and standing beside her was her friend Charlie. Castiel kicked himself for not piecing it together earlier – now he knew exactly why the Leviathans were after him. They believed he knew the whereabouts of Charlie. And if he knew the Leviathans, they would stop at nothing until she was in their vile grip.

Obviously, whether he liked it or not, Castiel had to do something to help out a friend in need. But what, really, could he do? Short of getting Charlie and Anna sent away for a while (he just assumed that Anna would not let her go alone), there wasn't much else. Perhaps they were off working on a plan and everything would be okay. One could only hope.

"Cas," Dean called. "Open the door, my hands are full."

Even though he heard Dean's voice, Castiel hesitated at the door for a moment. He quickly peeked out of the nearby glass, further proving to himself that it was indeed Dean standing outside.

"You do know how to open a door, don't you?"

With a smirk, Dean stepped inside, mouthing the word 'finally' as he did so. Held snugly in his arms were two bags, filled with groceries, most of which appeared to be bacon and eggs. Much to Castiel's relief, there was also a large box of Frosties tucked in there too. Dean had just absentmindedly purchased his favourite cereal.

"Do you know anything about that Bela girl, who works at the supermarket?"

Castiel looked up in surprise, for two reasons. The first being that he was completely and utterly into Dean at that very moment, unable to focus on anything but his wide smile as he unpacked the shopping. The second thing was that he had never heard of a Bela working at the supermarket, and he knew the family that operated the store. They had never hired outside relations, which set off some kind of minor alarm in the back of Castiel's mind.

"No." His succinct response would have come across as rude, but that did not seem to register with Dean, who rested his hand on Castiel's shoulder.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

For a moment, Castiel was silent. "It's Anna, Dean. You remember how we spoke about that girl who had ruined LeviCorp? Well… that girl is Anna's best friend and I'm pretty sure they've just gone into hiding together. Which is why they're after me: they think I know where they are, or that I can help them find her. The Leviathan are wily and cunning, and I cannot say for certain how many of them are in this. There're so many unknowns, I'm afraid that…"

"Cas?"

Dean's hand was still on Castiel's shoulder, the only thing that was keeping him grounded in reality. "Yes, Dean?" He heaved slightly, heart heavy with worry.

"Don't worry. I'll look out for you. C'mon, let's eat, and then we'll think about what to do okay? Relax with me," Dean replied, a reassuring smile lighting up his face.

Castiel nodded, reaching for the cereal. Dean handed him a bowl and the milk and then turned to the stove. While he ate, Castiel noticed that Dean was humming a sort of familiar tune under his breath, very upbeat and oddly relaxing at the same time.

The smoke that was filling the room, however, soon took precedence in Castiel's thoughts, and he walked around to the stove to check on Dean's cooking, which was… not doing too well, to say the least. Even though it was only bacon and eggs, one of the easiest dishes to cook, Castiel had no choice but to intervene and hopefully save whatever was left of it.

"Here, Dean, let me." Castiel nudged Dean aside with his hips and took the pan in his hand, immediately getting to work on scraping off the burnt bits. For one, the stove was on far too high, effectively burning anything straight away. "How do you like your bacon?"

"Extra crispy," replied Dean. There was an odd glimmer in his eyes, something that Castiel could not recognize though he suspected it to be admiration.

With the heat at a more suitable level, Castiel went through the bags to find anything else that he could add to the meal. Right now was a pretty solid time to show off a little bit in front of Dean, and he intended to make full use of it. He turned to Dean, telling him to go have a shower or something while he finished up the rest of the cooking.

"Uhh, yeah," stuttered Dean, untangling his awkwardly crossed legs. It seemed that cooking was the only thing that was hard for him right now.

Hiding a smirk, Castiel returned to what he was doing. In the bags, he found all the things he needed to make a pretty decent meal, one that they often served at the café on weekends. It consisted of two pieces of toast (though the bread he usually used was of a much higher quality), with the two eggs on top of that and sides of bacon, mushrooms, spinach and tomato.

Once everything was arranged nicely on the plate, he set it down on the table with a knife and fork before heading up the stairs to tell Dean that his food was ready. The bedroom door was shut, but there was no response to his knocking so Castiel stepped inside.

It was quiet, at first. Then he noticed it, the odd breathing and strained noises coming from the bathroom. "Dean?"

The noises stopped, but the breathing remained heavy. "Cas, I'll be down in a minute!"

"You… you okay?" What was Dean doing in there?

"F-fine, just – I'll be down soon, okay?"

The heat in his tone sent a strange shiver through Castiel's body, and he was so shaken by it that he simply complied.

One day, Dean Winchester, you will be mine. And so help me God, it will be the happiest time of my life.

Unfortunately, due to his zombie-like state, Castiel did not notice that the front door was open, or that there were some familiar-yet-not-so-friendly faces waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

Thump.

Castiel awoke to foreign surroundings, a large empty room scattered with pieces of furniture. Some of them were covered in white cloth, while the others simply stood there by themselves, the dark wood in high contrast with the bright white walls. He tried to shift his position, but found that his hands and feet were bound with tape. No one else appeared to be in the room, thankfully, allowing Castiel some time to think about his predicament and hopefully come up with a way out of it.

Fighting back the rush of panic wasn't easy, with Castiel only barely coming out on top of it. Deep breaths, Cas. He looked around for something that he could cut his bindings with; a chair or the sharp edge of a table would be good enough. Rolling onto his side helped him to stand, wobbling momentarily before hopping over to a wooden dining chair in the far corner. He turned his back to it and pressed the tape onto the edge of the chair, listening carefully for the sound of it tearing. Instead, he picked up on hurried that were getting closer and louder.

"Come on!" he muttered under his breath, sawing away as hard as he could.

The ripping finally came, and Castiel's hands were free. The next step was to unbind his legs, and then he could find a way out of here.

His body was extremely sore from being stuck in the same position, leading Castiel to wonder just how long he had been out for. He stretched gingerly, adjusting himself before looking for a weapon he could use to fight if he needed. Fisticuffs were Dean's thing anyway.

Luckily, Castiel was able to remove a leg from the same chair that he had cut himself free on. You've saved me twice now, Mr. Chair. Perhaps I should call you Dean instead, huh? Castiel slapped himself in the face, trying to rid himself of the craziness that was creeping in. He wasn't panicking; he was just projecting a personality on an inanimate object so that he wouldn't feel alone right now.

He hid himself just in time to avoid being seen by the two men that entered the room. They did not look familiar to Castiel, but they were definitely a part of the Leviathan family – the bore the same black, malevolent eyes and thin villainous lips that were signature.

"Where the hell is he?" the bigger of the two men shouted. "Wait here!"

The other man simply nodded, his expression remaining blank as he waited by the door.

Now's your chance. Castiel crept up behind the man and smashed the chair leg into his head, sending him to the floor in a crumpled heap. He searched the man, hoping for a better weapon, but found only keys instead.

Castiel hurried over to the door, listening for signs of activity on the other side. Satisfied that there were none, he twisted the handle until it clicked open. It opened out into a long and dark hallway, lined with strange paintings that were difficult to make out. Sticking to the shadows, Castiel tiptoed down toward the other end of the hall, checking each room he passed for a safe way out. He found them in the same condition as the room he woke up in: covered in sheets and with the furniture all strewn about.

It was in one of these rooms that he spotted his things sitting on a table that rested up against a wall. The air in the room was warm and comforting, completely at odds with its appearance. As he picked up his phone, wallet and keys, he spotted something that caused him to lose all color in his face. Taped to a wall were photos of both Sam and Dean Winchester, with the words 'possible leverage' scrawled over them in messy writing. Castiel's palms became sweaty, fear bubbling up inside him as he realised that the brothers were in danger purely out of knowing Castiel. He tore them down and tossed them into the crackling fireplace. They burnt quickly and disappeared, but Castiel knew it would be stupid to think that the Winchesters were safe once again. As he stared into the embers, another thought crossed his mind, but it was incomplete and the finer details left something to be desired.

Get a move on.

Suddenly, someone grabbed Castiel from behind, arms squeezing so tight that it made it difficult to breathe.

"You're not going anywhere," the man snarled. He recognised him to be the partner of the man left behind earlier.

Castiel swung his head back as hard as he could, and felt his head make contact with what was probably a nose. Immediately, the grip slackened and Castiel was able to break free. The man was still reeling backward when Castiel picked up his makeshift weapon again. He raised it high over his head, ready to strike downward, but the man charged him instead and rammed him into a wall. Castiel coughed, having had the wind knocked out of him, and shifted to the side just in time to avoid a massive blow to the face.

The man roared in pain as his fist collided with a beam in the wall, causing his knuckles to shatter and blood to gush from the open wound.

It was almost a bit much for Castiel. Thankfully, his self preservation instincts kept the sickness at bay.

No hesitation, Cas. Who's going to cook me breakfast, huh? The voice of his conscience was no longer his own, but it sounded warm and inviting just the same. In fact, it gave him the courage to keep on moving unhindered.

He closed his eyes and swung horizontally with vicious speed and intent behind the blow, only vaguely registering that it was Dean giving him the extra strength he needed. A sickening wet crunch let Castiel know that he hit his mark. The man slumped to the ground, and Castiel could not bear to look at him, so he simply stepped over him and left the room.

Blood pumped through his body at high speed, and he was beginning to feel shaky with all the adrenalin. At the end of the hallway was a flight of stairs, a sight that gave Castiel that extra 'lift' he needed to get out of there. The stairs remained silent as he moved down them, and he ran into no other people on his way. He spotted the front door at the far end of the room he was in, and the windows beside them allowed Castiel to see that night was beginning to fall.

The house was very… unsettling. It was all dark, from the flooring to the walls and ceiling, and it gave one the feeling of being lost inside a dark forest. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the black trappings looking remarkably like tiny spiders dangling from a web of crystal. The walls were decorated with paintings of trees and it gave the illusion that it stretched on for far longer.

Someone was giving a rather moving speech (the speaker's voice was oddly empowering, sounding as though he could rouse almost anyone to action, whether it were good or not), and the fact that there was no one else speaking indicated an enraptured audience.

Castiel panicked, searching for the source of the voice. It took him a few moments, and he realised it belonged to one of the few members of the Leviathan family that he had had the pleasure of actually meeting. In fact, it belonged to the man who was the public face of LeviCorp. It belonged to one Richard 'Dick' Roman, and it was the last thing Castiel needed to hear.

Curiosity won out, and Castiel followed the voice to a set of large wooden doors, and peeking through the crack showed large conference room where Dick was standing at the far end, glaring at the many people that were looking up to him. Castiel knew that there were a lot of children in the family, but there were far too many to have all come from one man. That meant that some of the people were here of their own volition, leaving Castiel to wonder exactly they were promised in return for their loyalty. Probably everything and they'd probably get nothing, or worse – they might even lose their lives. If they were all here, then that meant that this house belonged – or at least used to – to the Leviathans.

"Thanks to that Bradbury girl, we have nothing left. There is but one thing we can do now, and that is to take everything back by force." Dick's voice carried across the room, hitting everyone equally in volume.

A few of the people in the room exchanged hushed words, though Castiel could not make out exactly what they were. He could not be certain, but it felt like dissent.

"We can get it back, by going to the very people who are keeping Ms. Bradbury safe, the same people who shut us out completely when we needed them most. The rest of them cannot be found, but we do have the youngest one tied up upstairs. We will get what we need from him, and if he does not co-operate, there're two men who we can use against him as leverage. Remember: once we have made Ms. Bradbury pay for egregious actions against us, we are to dispose of our cousins and then take everything for our own. Are we clear?"

Again, more voices tuned in, talking amongst themselves, this time the unease perfectly clear to Castiel. Slowly everyone got to their feet and began to make their way to the door. The same door that Castiel was peeking in from. It was definitely time to get out of the house.

Castiel hurried out the front door and sprinted along the overgrown path, wanting nothing more than to get out of the area and back to Dean. He vaguely picked up on his location, having never actually seen or been to the house that he had just escaped from.

His iPhone had only three percent of its battery left, so he had to make up his mind on what he wanted to do with it. Castiel went into the messages app, revealing the many messages that Dean had sent him, each one becoming more hastily written than the other.

[Dean, I am okay now. Not much battery left. I don't know where I am but I will try to find my way back by bus. Keep Sam with you.]

That message would have to do, because now there was only two percent left. Castiel hurried along the unfamiliar streets, using the maps application to find a bus stop. The closest one was at a strip of shops not unlike the one where he worked, but it was ten minutes away and without his phone he would probably get lost. As if reacting to that, his phone turned off.

"Great," Castiel muttered, picking up the pace. They'd have to have to have noticed his absence by now, if they weren't already looking for him.

Every damn house in the area looked the exact same to Castiel, with nothing standing out amongst the modern housing estates. He was about to go up to a house and ask for directions when a young girl came up to him, asking if he was okay.

"You… You've got blood on your shirt," she said. "And on the back, too."

"Yes. I… uhh… I fell."

The girl squinted at Castiel, apparently judging whether or not she trusted him. "I can see that you've not fallen, I'm smarter than that. But you do look like you're lost."

The corner of Castiel's mouth twitched up in a small smile. "That easy to read, am I?"

"Do you really want to know the answer to that? Anyway, where're you going?"

It seemed that the two of them were heading to the bus stop, so she escorted him to their destination. Every few moments, Castiel would look over his shoulder, or cast a wary glance all around to make sure that they were not being followed. He didn't think he'd be able to take it if this girl got hurt simply for helping him to find a bus stop.

There were two other people waiting at the bus stop when they got there. One of them was an old lady who did not even look up as they sat down, and the other was a young guy bobbing his head to beats that only he could hear. He looked up at Castiel, noticed the blood and then simply returned to staring at his phone screen.

The bus arrived five minutes later, and all of them stepped on. Castiel took a seat beside the girl, not wanting to sit alone. She pulled a book out of her bag and began to read. It looked well word, leading Castiel to suspect that it was not the first time, nor would it be the last, that she had read it.

"You like to read?" asked Castiel.

She nodded.

"What's it called?"

Instead of telling him, she simply flipped the cover over so that Castiel could read it for himself. 'Ashes' it read.

The rest of the bus trip passed by quietly, with no one else getting on or off until the girl beside him stood up. "You wanna get off in two stops."

Castiel nodded. "Thanks. I'm Castiel, by the way." He extended a hand out to the girl, which she hesitantly accepted.

"Dieuwertje," she replied.

Castiel didn't think he'd ever be able to repeat that name again, but thankfully he didn't have to. The girl got off the bus without a second look.

At the next stop, the old lady got off, shuffling very slowly along and delicately down the stairs to the sidewalk. There was an old man waiting for her, a huge smile stretched across his face. He bent down to kiss her, and the two of them walked off hand in hand. It was at that point that Castiel truly noticed the depths of his longing for a relationship like that. Nothing – nothing – could beat having someone love you forever, and you loving them in return.

At last, he reached his stop.

And there he was.

Dean Winchester was sitting there, waiting for him. And when he noticed that Castiel was on that bus, he smiled.

"Fuck, Cas," he said. "Don't ever do that again." Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, pulling him into a tight hug that was perhaps a little too long. But Castiel didn't mind.

"I don't plan to," he replied. "Ever."

Dean had parked just around the corner, a welcome sight to Castiel's sore legs. His tiredness had just hit him, and it felt like he had just run into a brick wall. Before long, he had fallen asleep in the car.

He only woke twice, once when they stopped out the front of Dean's house, and once more when he was lowered gently into a bed.

"Thanks, Dean."

He could have imagined it, but he felt a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Any time."

A/N: There you have it folks, I hope it was enjoyable to read, because I know I had fun writing it. I just had to give Cas a chance to prove that he is tough too, y'know? A dollar makes me holla honey boo-boo, and so does seeing all of the people who've favorited or followed this fic, so thank you very much for that!

DragonAngelRaven: I'll see you online ;)

CSI-LoVe-GSR: Thank you so much for your review, and I am glad you're enjoying it. Fear not, my writing is fuelled by lovely reviews and everyone has provided me with plenty to see this through to the end. Thanks again for the smile!

ironicallyironman: Iloveyousofreakingmuch! I actually get so excited when I see that you've left a review, because it always makes me happy! LeviCorp are a bunch of assholes though, but I hope they make this interesting haha. You're awesome :)

sonreirbot: Who are you and what have you done with xDoItForTehLulz? I'm kidding. But seriously, if you've done anything to her... Aaaanyway, I hope his chapter lived up to your expectations! Thanks for taking the time to review :)

DestielSoups: First off, I'd like to say that Destiel Soups are the best kind of soups. Secondly, thank youuuuu so much! It is a privilege to be held in such high esteem, and I just asfhlskhgkbhk'd when I got your review! Cheers :)

Thanks again, and I'll try to get chapters up more frequently, but Guild Wars 2 is actually amazing! Though, since you guys have been so good, I might just have to work a little bit harder, huh?