AN: This chapter was longer than I thought it would be. Oops. Oh well, I'm so happy I updated this on time (ish), I'm at my sister's and a lot of stuff has been happening and I've enrolled to start uni in July. Argh. So yeah, enjoy! Review responses at the bottom.


Chapter 8

The next couple of weeks were busy for Castiel, Dean and Jess. Any minute the two men weren't at work or grading papers, they were discussing the case with Jess. Dean was forced to go over everything that he remembered, as well as listen to Castiel recount what he had seen, and look at the photographs of himself that had been taken upon his arrival alongside doctor's reports. He became more pale and withdrawn, the only things able to make him smile (albeit wanly) his class and Castiel's poor grasp of pop culture. Dean's new mission – aided by Jess – was the educate Castiel as much as possible in the ways of what he determined was quality film and music. His ribs and knee were almost fully healed, and the bandages around his chest were removed, leaving behind raised scars that were significantly paler than the rest of his skin and crisscrossed over his toned torso.

Castiel walked past the bathroom the day after the bandages were removed to find Dean stood in there, staring at his reflection with disgust.

"Dean?"

Dean jumped, and his arms flew up to cover the evidence of the attack protectively.

"What is it Cas?" he asked gruffly. Castiel's mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he was able to reply.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of."

He walked away quickly so that Dean wouldn't be able to see his face and the undisguised, naked longing that was written all over it. Dean stood stock still in the bathroom, his arms finally returning to his sides as he turned to look at his reflection once more.


The day of the trial, three weeks after Dean was out of hospital and seven weeks after he was attacked, was sunny and clear. Dean scowled out of the window as he angrily fixed his tie and put on the suit he had worn for Sam's funeral. It was as if he aged a decade as he shrugged on the jacket, and he looked himself over wearily, noting the dull-looking skin and lifeless eyes before leaving the room.

Out of habit, he glanced into Castiel's room as he passed, and saw Castiel attempting to fix his own tie properly. He shook his head, smiling slightly, before entering the room.

"Cas, you might get away with a backwards tie at work, but you need it done properly if you're gonna be in court," he said, and unhesitatingly gently pried the tie out of Castiel's hands. He adjusted it, reaching around Castiel's neck to fix the length, and only realised how close they were as he knotted the material and looked up. Castiel's eyes were locked onto him, unblinking, and both men's breathing was shallow. Somewhere in the back of Dean's mind, a voice (that sounded a hell of a lot like pre-addict, smartass Sam) was pointing out the fact that Dean's tongue was poking out the side of his mouth in concentration, but he couldn't remember what a tongue was anymore because he was drowning in bottomless blue.

Castiel licked his lips, and – oh yeah that's what a tongue is – Dean copied the movement with his own. There was a loud thumping noise in his ears, which he belatedly realised was his heartbeat, as the two of them drew closer and closer infinitesimally until –

"Guys! Hurry up! If Dean's insisting on driving we gotta leave ASAP to find somewhere to park his damn monster of a car!" Jess' voice rang out from the bottom of the stairs.

They pulled away from each other hastily, and as Dean strode over to the door he yelled, "Her name is Baby and you will apologise to her as soon as you see her you damn heathen!"

He shot a small, apologetic smile over his shoulder at Castiel, who stood in the middle of the room, before ducking out the door. Castiel bit his lip, checked his reflection (seeing how perfectly done his tie was), and threw on his trenchcoat before following Dean.


The courthouse, thankfully, didn't have too many people outside. However, that didn't stop Dean, Castiel and Jess from being flooded with reporters the second they got out of the Impala. Dean put an arm protectively around the other two, and glared at everyone as they walked up the stone steps into the courthouse. Once inside, he dropped his arms, and Castiel instantly missed the warmth and security they had provided.

"Sorry," Dean said shamefacedly. Jess frowned.

"Don't you dare start with that, Dean Winchester. Forget about it and focus on what we're here to do, okay?"

Dean nodded, and Castiel suppressed a smile.

"Let's go."

The trial was long and torturous. Alistair and Azazel's attorney, a brunette woman named Meg Masters, blatantly flirted with Castiel and Dean as she was cross-examining them, and both of the men gave her clipped, curt answers as a result. However, it only lasted a few hours until the jury went out to deliberate, as Jess had presented a clear and concise collection of all the evidence and data to build a case against the two thugs that was fool proof. Dean sat next to her in a half daze, doing his best to ignore the graphic descriptions and images being shown to everyone. When Jess began to talk about their part in Sam's death, her voice broke slightly, and Dean gripped the edges of the table he was sat at so hard his knuckles turned white. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Castiel sat behind him, an encouraging look on his face. He nodded once, and leaned back into the touch as he looked back at where Jess was still talking about how Alastair and Azazel needed to be put behind bars for as long as possible.

After only an hour, the jury returned to the courtroom, and Dean was only aware of one word as the representative – a kind looking woman named Hannah – spoke.

"Guilty."

Dean staggered and fell back into his seat as the rest of the room – aside from a scowling Meg, Alastair and Azazel, and a stunned Castiel and Jess – cheered. The two thugs were escorted out the room by uniformed officers, and Dean could only think about how the past day had been a complete blur. He felt a small hand slip into his, and looked up to see Jess smiling down at him.

"Let's get you home."

Dean allowed himself to be guided outside, flanked by Jess and Castiel. This time, it was Castiel who put his arms around the other two and helped a stunned Dean and beaming Jess to the car. One glance at Dean, and Castiel slid behind the wheel.

They were halfway home when Dean looked at his hands and realised they weren't on the wheel. He looked to his left, saw Castiel, and barked, "If we die the day the assholes who killed my brother go to jail, I'll kill you."

Castiel grinned at him, and Dean found himself laughing. Jess joined in, and Dean felt his mood lift as they drove back home.


Castiel pulled up outside the house two weeks later in his Toyota after working late, the engine finally giving up. He sighed in defeat as smoke billowed from the bonnet, and grabbed his briefcase out the backseat, delivering a final kick to the rusted metal. Jessica had gone back to California, with plenty of hugs and promises to visit again as soon as she could. As she'd hugged each man goodbye, she'd whispered in his ear "I swear to God, if you don't make a move soon I will come back here and kick your ass." Castiel had blushed a deep red, and Dean had stuttered a couple of times before telling her to "fuck off already, I need to go make bacon!" What neither of them realised was that she'd said the exact same thing to the both of them.

There was a low bass throb emanating from underneath the front door as he approached it, and he cautiously pushed it open.

You can leave your hat on…..

Peeking round the corner into the living room, Castiel saw a very familiar figure moving around with a broom. Dean shook in time with Joe Cocker's gravel voice, wiggling his hips as he sang along. Castiel grinned and leaned against the doorframe as he watched Dean sing into the broom handle before twirling around it. The grin turned into him heavily biting his lip as Dean bent over to turn up the radio, and the back of his pants slid down a little.

Holy shit.

Pink lacy frills peeked over the top of Dean's waistline, taunting Castiel as they snugly fit over the contours of Dean's body. His teeth sunk deeper into his lower lip, and his breath came a little faster. Thankfully, before he had the chance to leap over the coffee table and fuck Dean into the carpet, Dean straightened up and the bottom of his t-shirt covered the top of his jeans once more. However, he did begin to gyrate more as Joe Cocker sang, You can leave your hat on…

Finally, Dean turned around and saw Castiel in the doorway. He grinned and waved before leaning down the turn the radio off, just as Joe Cocker was telling the listener You give me reason to live….

The panties made a brief reappearance, and Castiel's bottom lip was really taking the pain that afternoon. Dean stood up and turned back, still smiling, and oh dear god this wasn't fair, his eyes were shining and everything.

"Hey man, sorry I didn't come to get you from work after I finished early, I was…..uhh…..cleaning. Kind of. May have gotten distracted." Dean's grin looked somewhat embarrassed, but then he perked up again as he said, "But the kitchen's clean! Look, I made the oven sparkle and everything!"

He was like an excited child as he ran over, grabbed Castiel's hand (don't sweat don't sweat don't sweat don't kiss him DO NOT KISS HIM), and pulled him into the kitchen to show him just how clean the oven was.

To be fair, the oven really was clean, and Castiel could see his reflection in the gleaming metal.

"Shit, Dean, you went to town on her." Dean's freckles stood out as he flushed pink, and he gave a small, shy smile.

"Yeah, well. After the trial I've been kinda drifting, you know? But then I was like, cleaning out Sammy's room really helped me clear my head. So I thought cleaning all round here would help me focus a little. On like. Life and stuff. I dunno it sounds kinda stupid out loud…." He gave a small shrug.

"No, it's good. That you have something. Do you want me to take care of dinner? You look kinda tired." Castiel was not noticing that Dean had little flecks of gold in his eyes, he was not.

"Oh, shit." Dean frowned. "I hadn't even thought about dinner. I mean, I can do it, you just got back from work." He looked at Castiel apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think about it."

"It's fine, Dean. I'll take care of it. Steak okay with you?" Castiel asked as he left the kitchen to dump his things in his bedroom.

Dean could only nod silently in complete astonishment at how frigging nice Castiel could be after a full day of working and teaching. And he totally didn't stare at the way Castiel's slacks hugged his ass as he walked away, so that Dean could see quite literally every single shift of his toned muscles beneath the fabric. When Castiel had disappeared up the stairs, he sank onto the couch, head in his hands.

"Goddammit."


Dean ran along the beach, laughing as Sam chased him.

"Deeeean! You're too fast!"

Dean finally stopped, allowing Sam's smaller frame to slam into him and knock the boys over into the sand as they laughed. Sam beamed at his 9 year old older brother.

"Dean, when we go home, can we play with the Lego?"

"Sure, Sammy. But this time we're building a garage, okay?"

Sam pouted. "But I wanna make a caaaastle!"

"We did that last time!"

Dean's 5 year old brother grumbled. "Okaaay."

"Woo! Let's go find Mom and Dad."

As they stood up and walked over to Mary and John, Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's hand. Dean curled his fingers around Sam's stubbier ones, and felt a rush of a fiercely protective instinct towards him as they walked.

Time slid and twisted, and Dean found himself aged 14, sprinting out of his burning home with Sammy slung over one shoulder. He lay his brother down in the grass.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Dean turned and ran straight back into the flaming building, ignoring the screams of old Mrs Pratchett who lived next door. Instead of his parents being in their room, though, they were stood in Sam's bedroom. Nothing was burning anymore, and Alastair was standing beside them unnoticed, a knife in his hand. Dean tried to speak, tried to warn them, but no words would come out no matter how hard he tried.

"Why did you let me die, Dean?" A 5 year old Sam was pulling on his hand, crying as Azazel stuck a needle into his arm. "Why did you let this happen?"

"You promised you would look after him for me, Dean," John said. "And look what you did. You let him die, just like you let us die. Can't you do anything right?"

Mary joined in. "You had one job, Dean. And you failed."

As she spoke, Alastair ran his knife through her. Mary Winchester fell to the ground, lifeless, and Dean couldn't do a thing as he remained rooted to the spot. Alastair smiled at Dean, before stabbing John, who followed his wife.

"You know you could have saved your dad, Dean. Just like you could have saved your brother. But you didn't did you? You just let it happen." Alastair moved towards Dean, who could suddenly speak.

"Don't hurt Sammy. Please, leave him alone. Hurt me instead, he's just a kid." Dean was crying now, and all Alastair and Azazel did was laugh.

"That's just gonna make this so much better." Alastair nodded at Azazel, who snapped Sam's neck with a single twist. Sam joined his parents on the floor as Dean screamed, and Alastair began to slide his knife down Dean's chest, lines of blood trickling down in the trails he left.

"You're useless, Dean. Useless and worthless. Look at them. You're worthless, and not really that smart either. So yeah I'm going to hurt you, because really? That's what you deserve. Oh, and one more thing." Alastairs smirk became a full blown grin as he moved back towards the cupboard.

"Dean, wake up!"

He opened the door, and a body swung out.

"Dean!"

He nudged it with a foot, and lifeless blue eyes stared accusingly at Dean.

"You could have saved him, too, you know."

Dean screamed, sobbing as Azazel flicked a lit cigarette onto the carpet, letting the floor catch alight.

"Cas!"

The flames licked at Dean, and he felt himself shaking.

"Dean!"

Dean bolted upright, and found himself face to face with Castiel.

"Dean, are you okay?"

Dean couldn't breathe properly. Air came in heavy gasps.

"Dean, calm down. I need you to relax, okay?"

A shuddering breath, and then Dean was clinging to Castiel's shoulders.

"You're alive," he gasped out. "You're…I…" he realised he was crying. Castiel, more concerned than confused, hugged Dean.

"I'm alive, and so are you. You're safe, Dean, it's okay." Castiel spoke soothingly, and ran his hands up and down Dean's spine. Dean eventually calmed down, and simply sat there with his head buried in Castiel's chest as Castiel half-knelt on Dean's bed, arms wrapped around him comfortingly.

"I'll…..I'll go back to bed now," Castiel said as he awkwardly extracted himself. Dean grabbed his hand, looking surprised at himself.

"Um. Can you…..can you just stay? Please?" He looked up uncertainly, shy and scared of rejection. Castiel was staring at where Dean's hand grasped his, and Dean let go reluctantly. "Sorry, it's stupid. I'll leave you alone, sorry."

"Dean, shut up and move over." Castiel half shoved him as he climbed in next to Dean. Dean blinked in shock as he allowed himself to be shifted. The two of them lay there in silence, staring up at the ceiling. Castiel finally broke the silence.

"If you don't mind my asking…..what were you dreaming about? You were….screaming. And saying names. It didn't sound pleasant."

"It wasn't."

Castiel turned his head to look at Dean, who hadn't moved his gaze from the ceiling. When Castiel said nothing, Dean continued.

"I dreamt about Sammy. And Mom. And Dad. Only Alastair and Azazel were killing them in front of me, and I couldn't stop it. And then just before you woke me up, they…." His voice broke, and Castiel shifted closer instinctively.

"They what, Dean?"

Dean's voice faltered before he reasserted control over it. "They showed me your corpse, and they burned the house down as they told me it was all my fault."

His jawline worked up and down, and Castiel saw that he was close to tears once more. Turning over the part about him in his mind, he reached out and placed a hand over Dean's.

"I'm alive, Dean. You are alive. We are safe, they're gone. Nothing bad is going to happen, okay?"

Dean nodded to himself, swallowing a few times.

"Yeah. Sorry. Night, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean."

They fell asleep quickly, reassured by the others' presence.


AN: Woooooo. Also I have no idea how to write a court scene. I'm so sorry.

The song Dean's dancing along to is "You Can Leave Your Hat On" by Joe Cocker and I love it. Go listen to it. Now.

Perdition Raiser - I'm so sorry it hurt you! And I made it more morbid. Sorry. And thank you very much! Don't cry!

MariMagda - I love Jess! She'll probably come back, I liked writing her. And they're so blind to how they feel, it's so annoying. I hope you liked this chapter, though! Thanks so much for your review :)