The weekend, if without breakthrough on the memory front, passed pleasantly enough. Thankfully, his Monday appointment with Doctor Moseley was in the afternoon. He had soon discovered that he preferred to sleep in; in fact, on Sunday he didn't venture out of his bedroom until one pm, causing Sam to come look for him and cheerfully waking him up. Nerd probably woke up as soon as the sun rose.

By Monday morning (well, when he got up) Dean was no longer freaking out at the prospect of living his life; he was, however, growing more and more frustrated, the anger at his inability to recall anything he'd thought he had under control resurfacing stronger than ever. His family and friends were great – giving him space and allowing him to simply relax instead of urging him to try harder – but he'd had enough. He wanted to truly know these people, not simply take their concern and worry and love for granted.

Cas had spent the whole weekend with them, apart from going home to sleep, and Dean had felt his new-found resolution to get over his crush crumbling before he'd ever had a chance to try.

Cas was just so nice, and smart, and it didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes.

Very easy on the eyes.

He shook himself out of it and started on the coffee. It was nearly eleven and Sammy hadn't risen yet. He must be exhausted after the week he'd had.

His phone woke him, and looking at the time, he thought it must be Jess, but to Sam's surprise he didn't recognize the number.

"Samuel Winchester?"

"Yes?" he asked, still somewhat groggy.

"This is the Deanery of the University of Stanford. I am sorry to inform you that there appears to be a problem with your application to your bar exam."

"What?" Sam inquired, fully awake now. "I handed in everything – "

"In which case it wasn't processed correctly. This will have no bearing on your exam, but we still have to run the necessary papers – "

"I'll mail them to you," Sam said quickly, intent on keeping the conversation short. He didn't have time for bureaucracy, not with Dean –

"I am sorry, Mr. Winchester, but several of the papers need to be signed".

"I have an e-signature, or I can sign them and scan them – "

"That will not be possible".

After a further fifteen-minute discussion, Sam was faced with the fact that he would have to return to Stanford in order to sign papers, which really shouldn't be necessary in today's society.

He didn't want to have five miles between him and Dean, not to mention the distance to Stanford. Dean had another session scheduled today, and his memories didn't seem to be coming back. Dean needed him.

He walked into the kitchen. Dean turned around with a smile that immediately dropped as he saw his expression.

"Sammy? I heard you talking on the phone. Is Jess alright?"

Leave it to Dean to worry about someone he, as far as he remembered, had never met. Sam smiled weakly as he answered, "No. Everything's alright".

"Yeah, right. You look like you got told – " Dean froze. "It's not about the exam?"

"Yes, but not in the way you're thinking". Sam quickly explained, and Dean let himself fall on a chair, huffing.

"That's what's got you all worried? Documents? It's annoying sure, but... I thought your building had burned down or something!"

"They are forcing me to leave, to go to Stanford for something I could just send them, and that when you are – "

"When I'm what? I'm not an invalid, Sam".

Apparently he had chosen the wrong words, because Dean was starting to get angry.

"And this is about your future. I'll be fine. There's Cas and Bobby and Jody – " He noted that Dean hadn't mentioned Dad, "and if you really think that I'll let you – "

"Wouldn't you want to stay with me if I had amnesia?" he asked, regretting it immediately. Dean didn't remember how close they were.

"Of course I would. I'm not saying I don't understand you. I really do. And it's very nice and brotherly that you want to stay, but you won't be gone long".

Sam was taken aback by Dean's easy acceptance of his worries as something due to him as his older brother.

Taken aback and overjoyed, but he wasn't going to tell him.

"So – "

"So you take a flight and make sure you get to be the best lawyer ever. And..." Dean trailed off and Sam recognized the expression on his face. It meant that Dean was about to suggest something Sam wouldn't like, but what he considered was best for him.

"Jess' exam is on Wednesday, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"It's Monday. Stay with her till then".

"Dean – "

"She needs you, too," Dean reminded him, "You can't put me above everything. Plus, it's not like you can do much about my amnesia. And we'll be texting and calling constantly anyway, if I've understood anything about us".

Sam couldn't disagree with that. And yet he didn't want to leave Dean. For the first time, his older brother allowed him to take care of him, and it was great to watch Dean finally accept the love and worry he was shown.

"Fine," he sighed, "But you keep me updated".

He rolled his eyes. "I just said we'd be texting all the time, Sammy".

He didn't know that Dean texting and Dean updating Sam honestly how he was doing had been very different things in past days.

Sam hugged him and went to book a flight.

Dean shook his head after the door to Sam's room had closed. The kid worried too much. Sure, it sucked that he had to leave for a few days, he was fond of his company, but it wasn't like he hadn't spent the better part of the last eight years getting educated miles away. They could manage.

He heard Cas unlocking the door and smiled. He hadn't been surprised to find that he had a set of keys and was in the habit of letting himself in.

"Hey, Cas".

"Hello, Dean".

It was always "Hello, Dean". Invariably so. It was another one of the small things that made Cas special.

To distract himself from the feeling, Dean told him about Sam. Cas frowned.

"One would think that in an advanced technological age, such problems should have vanished long ago".

He shrugged. "Apparently they haven't, and we need to deal with it. He's feeling guilty enough as it is. I told him to stay with Jess until after her exam."

"Wednesday is not too far away," Cas answered simply.

Dean felt another wave of fondness towards his friend and quickly turned away, using pouring him coffee as an excuse not to look at him. He refilled his own cup as well, throwing three spoons of sugar in it for good measure. He figured with his session coming up, he could treat himself a little.

"How are your chest and head?" Cas inquired.

"Okay, I guess. I didn't have to take a pill, so..."

Cas gave him his small, pleased smile again and Dean swallowed.

He wanted to kiss Cas, he suddenly realized, and it was ridiculous that this desire only now manifested when he had been pretty much staring at his best friend in a non-platonic way since he had woken up, but it was there and it was obviously making up for last time because suddenly all he could think of was taking that step and reaching out and –

"Dean?"

He'd zoned out. He shook his head and quickly passed Cas his cup. He tilted his head and stepped closer, and that didn't help. At all.

"You look flushed. Are you in pain? Do you need a pill after all?"

"No. I'm fine. Really". He remembered what they had been talking about before and added, "Just bummed that Sam's leaving".

Cas chuckled, but didn't step back.

"It is good to see you haven't changed".

He was used to his friend's bluntness by now.

"You mean I am still handsome, charming, and all-around wonderful?"

"I meant you are still overbearing and protective" Cas said matter-of-factly and Dean noticed that he had not tried to contradict "handsome".

He really hoped he wasn't blushing.

Cas had the feeling that Dean wasn't honest with him. He had experienced it a few times during the weekend, and had found that repetition didn't make him get used to it. Dean had never been open about his feelings, but he had never really lied to him.

Something was up. He was probably upset about Sam leaving, but there was something else too...

Before he could wonder about it more, Sam entered the kitchen and greeted him, informing them that his flight was in two hours.

"And you're sure that – "

Dean waved the question away.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Help Jess get out of this alive and bring her with you when you get back. Mind, don't drag her here immediately, though. She's gonna be exhausted on Wednesday".

After some squabbling, Sam agreed, and they decided that Cas would take Dean to his session while Sam packed and drove to the airport.

"I'll call Bobby," he promised and no one even mentioned their father. They parted with a hug in front of the apartment building, Sam promising that he would bring Jess with him on Thursday.

There was a strange, hollow feeling in his chest as he watched Sam drive away – Cas had insisted he take his car, so Dean could keep using the Impala – and it actually felt like he had known him his whole life and didn't like it when his little brother left him.

A good sign, he supposed.

It didn't help his frustration at all though, and he was thankful when Cas stayed quiet during the drive.

Doctor Moseley was already waiting for him, but a quick look at his watch assured him that he was on time.

"Good afternoon, Dean. How are you doing?"

This led to a rant against universities and their paperwork instead of telling her that he had made no progress, which should probably have been more important to him, but he couldn't help it.

He was surprised to see a small smile on her face after he had calmed down.

"Sam means a lot to you".

"I guess," he said. "It's difficult because he's got all the memories I'm supposed to share, but – yeah, he means a lot to me".

"So nothing has come back to you?"

There it was. He shook his head.

"I've been trying, with pictures and videos, but no." Before she could say anything, he continued, "I haven't been stressing myself out. Promise. Everyone's been great. Mostly I'm just...annoyed".

Alright, maybe he was a little scared of the doctor who seemed to be able to read his mind.

The session progressed smoothly. Doctor Moseley wouldn't allow him to give up yet, telling him to relax and let things progress naturally and see her once or twice a week. He should try what he could do – and Dean was on board with that, thinking of the Impala – and perhaps even contemplate going back to work, if it came as easy to him as his language skills and general knowledge.

He told her he'd think about it, even if he did feel rather nervous at the prospect.

All in all, he supposed everything could have gone much worse. He was still able to function, and he'd had a "support system" to fall back on, as Doctor Moseley called it.

And yet... there was something gnawing at his mind, although he only understood after he had sat down in the Impala's passenger seat once more (baby steps – he wasn't going to jump right into driving a car around) and had answered Cas' questions about the session.

Doctor Moseley had reminded him of work. Work he hadn't been able to do.

He wasn't stupid. He knew from the condition of his shop and his small apartment that he didn't have a lot of money.

So who was paying for his therapy? His insurance couldn't cover everything. Sam was a college student who could only attend Stanford due to scholarships.

His dad couldn't have more money than Dean himself.

Which left –

"Cas," he began slowly, unsure of how to approach the subject. Cas rarely talked about his family. Dean had no idea whether he was affluent or not, and neither did he know how much the university paid.

"Yes?" his best friend asked, never taking his eyes of the road. He was especially careful when driving the Impala, probably because the car was so important to Dean.

"Are you paying my bills?" He figured it was best to tackle the problem head on. Cas would understand. He frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"My medical bills, Cas. All that care has to be expensive and I don't think my insurance covers everything," he explained patiently.

Cas turned his head to stare at him wide-eyed.

"I hadn't thought of that".

"Then who – " And then Dean knew.

"Cas, the salvage yard. Now. And look at the road, please".

Bobby was working, of course, but that didn't stop Dean from jumping out of the Impala as soon as it stood still and rushing into the shop where he was busy with an engine.

"Dean?" he asked immediately, letting his tools drop, and he realized what he must look like.

"Everything's fine," he said, even though it was pretty far from the truth, "but – "

He stopped, having no idea how to continue. He didn't even know how he felt about the whole thing. He wasn't angry, but he also didn't want Bobby to spend all this money on him.

"Dean has been wondering who is paying for his treatments," Cas, who had caught up with him, supplied.

If he hadn't known better, he would have thought the older man blushed before turning his head away.

"Bobby, man, that's gotta be expensive. I've seen how my shop looks, there's no way I can afford insurance to cover my therapy – "

"Don't worry about it".

"Bobby – "

"I said," the older man interrupted him, looking at him again, his expression determined. "I've got enough money and no one to spend it on. You and your brother – and Cas', really – are the closest thing I have to children".

Neither of them knew how to continue, until Dean finally stammered, "Thank you".

He would have offered to pay him back eventually, but he was certain that Bobby wouldn't have appreciated it.

"No problem, boy. Just get better".

Dean later wouldn't be able to say who had hugged the other first, but suddenly they were hugging, and he was hit again by how Bobby seemed much more like his father than his actual dad.

He clumsily patted Dean's shoulder as they pulled apart, then cleared his throat.

"Anyway, how did the session go?"

And just like that any awkwardness between them disappeared.

"Sam's on his way back to Stanford?"

Dean nodded. "Had to convince him to leave".

"Wasn't easy, I imagine," Bobby replied, and Dean shook his head. He chuckled. "Never is".

Bobby made them coffee before they made their way back to the apartment, Dean realizing that he and Cas would spend some real time alone for the first time since he had left the hospital.

The thought should have made him neither as excited nor as nervous as it did.

Cas surprised him by parking a few streets away from his apartment.

"Do you want to drive the rest of the way?"

He swallowed. He really did, wanted to know what it felt like to steer the black beauty he had spent years caring for, and the streets weren't busy at the moment.

But he didn't know if he could, if driving would come to him like his other talents seemed to, and if it wouldn't...

Somehow he felt that not being able to drive after everyone had told him that it was one of his dearest hobbies would be worse than anything he'd yet done. Including calling Bobby "Dad".

"You can stop whenever you want," Cas continued, and the look in his eyes was soft and affectionate.

Especially what Dean didn't need at the moment, because it made him get lost in those eyes all the more.

He cleared his throat.

"If you think..."

"I'm sure you can do it," Cas interrupted him, and they switched places, his best friend unconcerned that he couldn't recall when they had met and yet would stir an old-timer through Lawrence's streets.

He hoped he could still remember the way home.

He took a deep breath as he touched the steering wheel.

His right foot bounced up and down, and he wondered how he was supposed to hit the gas nervous as he was, but Cas reached out and squeezed his knee lightly.

Dean stared at the hand on his leg. That was not something that friends did, surely? Cas invaded his personal space rather often, but he hadn't yet touched him in such a deliberate way. Was there history between them that Sam knew nothing about?

Cas let go and Dean realized that not only had he been staring at the hand the entire time it had laid on his knee, but also that Cas had left it there longer than necessary.

He didn't look at Cas as he started the car.

He gently pressed on the gas and that was it.

He could drive. He felt it as soon as the car moved, as the wheels turned smoothly, no bumps on the asphalt to speak of; and as the world rushed by, he forgot about everything but that he was driving this beautiful car with a beautiful man next to him, Led Zeppelin playing on the radio.

Cas knew he shouldn't have touched Dean like that. It hadn't been a conscious decision. He had wanted to calm him down, to reassure him; but he hadn't thought about touching his knee until he had watched himself doing it, the warmth of Dean's body seemingly spreading into his through his palm.

It was such an intimate gesture, the touch of a lover, not a friend, and yet he couldn't bring himself to withdraw his hand for several seconds.

At least Dean started the car and drove, and it quickly became clear that they shouldn't have worried about his driving.

He looked so relaxed, carefree, perhaps even more so than he usually did in his Baby, and Cas stared, mesmerized.

Thankfully Dean kept his eyes on the road, rather than constantly letting them wander to the passenger seat as he was wont to do.

It had felt so natural to touch Dean, as if Cas had a right to. As if he did it all the time. As if they were –

He resolutely looked out the window. Nothing could come of such thoughts.

Dean woke up from a kind of trance when he parked the car; not that he hadn't been aware of what he was doing; he had simply driven the way something had told him was right and enjoyed the car and Cas' presence.

A little too much, if he was being honest, but hey, he could drive. It was something.

He was still too conscious of Cas as they climbed up the stairs. He was close enough to lay a hand around his shoulders –

Thankfully they reached his front door before he could do so against his better judgement.

"What do you want to do?" Cas asked as soon as they had closed the door behind them. It was obvious that Sam had asked him to stay while he was away.

Dean really wanted to be alone with Cas, but he also really didn't want that, so he stayed silent, confused.

"Dean?"

He blushed when he realized he'd been staring into air for several moments and cleared his throat.

"I don't really feel like going out – how about take out and watching movies?"

He'd started going through his movie collection over the weekend, Sam and Cas eager to assist. He had to admit that he liked Star Wars and Indiana Jones and Die Hard, but he was a little disappointed at the lacking variety of it all – mostly action films and comedies. His eBook collection showed that he was interested in many subjects; shouldn't the movies he chose to buy do the same?

He was thankful that he was standing in front of the DVDs so Cas couldn't see his expression. His friend would have asked him to explain something he couldn't understand, a slight dissatisfaction that he felt whenever he thought about his life for too long. He wasn't even sure he could call it dissatisfaction; maybe uneasiness would fit better.

His mood improved when he found The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy among his DVDs. He had finished the book last night – he was getting quite good at handling the whole knowing stuff without remembering having done it before so that his knowledge of the plot hadn't fazed him, just like his ability to quote every line of Die Hard hadn't bothered him.

"Let's see how it holds up compared to the book," he said, turning around with the DVD in his hands.

He knew immediately from Cas' expression that he had said something weird.

"I – I mean," he began to stutter, but Cas quickly stepped towards him.

"Don't stress yourself," he chided him, fondness obvious in his voice, and Dean told himself that his heart was beating faster because he was doing exactly that. No other reason.

"I'm just surprised you read the book. I didn't know".

"It's on my EBook reader," Dean shrugged, "And I recognized it the way I recognize things, so I must have".

Cas' face grew passive. Anyone else wouldn't have been able to read his expression, but Dean had stared at him enough since he had woken up to recognize the slight widening of the eyes as surprise.

He wondered why no one knew that he had an EBook reader, or that he even liked to read. Seriously, he'd apparently read classics as well as books that appeared on the New York Times bestseller list for a few weeks and then disappeared, never to be talked of again.

It wasn't shameful, for crying out loud. So why had he hidden his appetite for literature as if it was? It didn't make sense.

Cas came to his rescue by offering to call for takeout and suggesting that he put the DVD in, and as he did so, it dawned on him that his feelings were slowly but surely growing bigger than a crush.

It was pathetic; he'd been upset over nothing, Cas had calmed him down and now, when he was putting the DVD in the player, he realized that he was falling for him. No crush. No infatuation.

He was falling in love with Cas.

Freaking out over people not knowing that he was a bookworm seemed like the much better option now. At least it didn't have consequences.

But Cas... They were best friends. They had never been more, according to Sam, and they never would be, because something would surely have happened between them until now if they were.

He didn't even know if Cas liked men. Probably not.

Also, he'd most likely die of embarrassment the moment he remembered.

That would be the good conclusion to all of this.

If his feelings stayed the same, though... if he had to pretend that he wanted nothing more from his best friend for the rest of his life –

"One could come to the conclusion that you have already decided it is impossible to adapt the book based on how angrily you're staring at the menu," Cas said, sitting down next to him on the sofa.

Surely it wasn't necessary to sit that close together? But Cas always sat close to him. He wished he could calm his wildly beating heart, but wasn't successful. At all.

Thankfully he could always use the movie as a distraction.

He recognized it the way he recognized anything that wasn't people or memories, of course, but that didn't take away the freshness of it, or his discussion with Cas whether it had been worth it to change the story so that it was structured rather than episodic.

"I get it, Cas, it's different from the book," Dean said for the hundredth time, "but it still gets it. It shows the source material's spirit, and Douglas wrote the screenplay anyway..."

Cas huffed. "I am aware of that, but I still feel it should have been closer to the book – "

"How? It would only be them stumbling around, running into adventures."

"What's wrong with that?"

Dean shook his head at his best friend, who had tilted his head and was studying him with exasperated affection.

Dean found himself staring at his lips before quickly turning his head away.

What was he thinking?

He knew Cas was frowning without seeing him, but just as his friend started to ask what was wrong, his phone rang.

It was Sam. Dean tried not to feel relieved as he answered.

"Hey, Sammy".

"I just wanted to tell you I got there safely".

"I didn't doubt your ability to find your apartment." Dean replied. Sam hesitated slightly before answering, and Dean made a mental note to ask Cas about it afterwards. Apparently he'd said something out of character again.

"I already spoke with the secretary – by the time I arrived it was of course too late to do anything, but I'm going to sign the papers first things in the morning". He paused and Dean said, "You know the plan. Stay. Cuddle Jess. Bring her here after her exam. How's she doing, by the way?"

"Freaking out," Sam answered. His girlfriend entered their kitchen and shot him a dirty look.

"I am not 'freaking out', Sam Winchester, and if you don't alert your brother to this fact immediately, I will personally make sure there is never another salad in our fridge".

"I like her," Dean said immediately, and Sam realized that, as far as he knew, he had just heard Jess' voice for the first time. He was tempted to let her speak to him, but he didn't want to force Dean to make small talk with someone he didn't know. It was all he did when he met people from his past anyway.

So he quickly asked what he and Cas were doing, and Dean was soon telling him about a movie adaptation of a book Sam would have bet he had never heard about. He didn't let his surprise show.

He and Cas were watching a movie; it was nothing to think about, since they had done so countless times before, but there was something in Dean's voice... Sam couldn't help but smirk. He was ready to deal with everything, even to forgive Dad for never allowing Dean to fix the shop, if he could eventually watch his brother be happy.

Sam promised once more that they would be back on Thursday before ending the call.

Jess had immediately agreed when he'd asked her to come back with him after her exam, and even though he'd attempted to protest, she had had none of it.

"Dean is family. My parents understand. They even wired me some money so you wouldn't be pressed because you keep flying across the country".

"I can't –"

"You will because this is a family emergency".

And that had ended that discussion.

"Dean and Cas are alone?" she inquired innocently, pouring herself more coffee. She deserved a little break, and she might as well spend it gossiping. Sam needed some relief from his worries.

He smiled and shook his head.

"What? You don't know what could happen..."

"Cas would never!" he exclaimed, horrified. The mere thought of his friend taking advantage of his brother's situation made his skin crawl. Cas would never – he wouldn't even think about it – true, he'd been in love with Dean for years...

"That's not what I meant!" Jess cried out, her eyes widening. "That's not what I meant at all," she repeated, in a calmer tone. "I don't know Cas as well as you do, but I've seen him with Dean, and he'd never do anything that he thinks might hurt him. If I said something might happen, I thought about Dean finally realizing he's in love with him, or falling in love with him all over again so that they can eventually get on with their love story".

"I didn't mean to imply that you wanted..." Sam mumbled, but she was already shaking her head, indicating that they needn't discuss the subject further.

She moved forward and gave him a gentle kiss.

"You should call Brady and the others. They've been very worried," she said softly before leaving the kitchen.

He resolved to do just that instead of speculating how his brother and friend were spending their time.

"Why did we order Chinese again?" Dean asked, failing yet again to pick up a bite with his chopsticks.

Cas sniggered next to him, and he shot him a dirty look.

"You want to try 'everything' if I remember correctly," he said, putting down his container to make quotation marks with his fingers, and an annoying professor should not have been that adorable.

"I'll have to get it to my mouth first, and that seems rather dubious at the moment," Dean answered. After another failed attempt, he looked at his friend and asked, tiredly, "Show me how it's done?"

Cas was glad that he had always been rather introverted so that he could keep his face void of any emotion. He had often seen Dean trying to use chopsticks, but his friend had never asked for help. Dean had never been fond of asking other people for anything.

So, without appearing too eager, he showed him patiently how to do it properly, and soon Dean was munching away to his heart's content, occasionally grinning at Cas.

He couldn't help but think about the moment before Sam had called, when Dean had been looking at him in an odd way, almost as if –

No. Even if Dean should be developing feelings for him, they wouldn't be real. Dean was heterosexual, he had never given Cas any reason to doubt it. Dean, in his state, needed to feel close to those he considered his family, and he mistook his affection for Cas for attraction. It would end as soon as he remembered.

Cas hated himself for desperately wanting Dean to look at him like that again, as if he contemplated leaning forward and...

"What did it do to you?" Dean inquired and Cas frowned at him.

"Your meal. The way you're staring at it... It's gonna turn sour before you have the chance to eat it all".

"Ha ha," Cas calmly replied and went back to eating. It was safer than to continue his thought process from before.

Dean wondered what had got into Cas. One minute, he was teaching him how to use chopsticks and happy when he succeeded, and then he stopped talking and began brooding.

Had he done something wrong? Maybe he had said something that reminded Cas of his amnesia.

Or Cas had guessed what he'd been thinking about before Sam called. Dean hoped not. It would only make things awkward, becoming even more so after he regained his memories.

What would his old self think, who'd known Cas since they were teenagers?

When he realized that he was thinking about his old self as another person, he stopped. He couldn't do that. He had to be that person, he was working to be that person again.

And Cas liked that person very much. Not that that had anything to do with it. Because he was totally getting over his feelings. Starting now.

But he really didn't want Cas to be angry with him.

"Cas? Wanna watch another movie?"

Cas smiled at him, Dean knew he was forgiven, and his wildly beating heart told him that getting over his feelings wouldn't be as easy as he would have liked to believe.