"Most people are scared. When they look him in the eyes all they see is fear, but let me make this clear. I want him near."

[Dev - Monster]


It was still dark out when Castiel went into The Roadhouse. The sign on the door still read CLOSED, but the door was unlocked. His boss, Ellen, stood behind the countertop, getting the cash register ready for a busy day. Ash waved a hand from the back as he put the coffee on. Castiel smiled at him. Ash was a good soul, and he wore a funny mullet. They'd gotten along instantly.

"Good morning, Ellen," Castiel said.

"Morning," Ellen said, sounding distracted. She was frowning down at the money in her hands.

Jo walked in before Castiel could get another word out. Castiel greeted her. "Hey, Cas, how's Dean doing?" Jo asked. "He keeps calling me to complain about Sam." She rolled her eyes.

Castiel didn't miss Ellen's sudden interest in their conversation. He only hoped Ellen wouldn't resent him for befriending Dean, seeing she wasn't so fond of him. "I wouldn't know. You should ask Sam."

Jo narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you serious? Dean sent me a text while you were at his place last night and he told me you went home really late."

Of course he did. "Oh, right. Well, Dean is my neighbor." Castiel smiled at Ellen, but she didn't return the expression. "I was just being welcoming."

"Welcoming. Yeah, right." Jo elbowed him. "What's going on with you two?"

"Nothing," Castiel said immediately. "Nothing at all. Nope. Dean and I are neighbors. Sometimes I visit him. Nothing's going on, Jo. I swear. I wouldn't lie about this."

Jo chuckled. "Calm down, man. I'm just teasing you. Why are you so paranoid?"

Ellen went back to counting her money while frowning, and Castiel felt himself relax. He let out a long breath.

"Jo, leave Castiel alone," Ellen said. "You'll be at the register today." Jo nodded, already heading back there. "Ash, come open the shop. I need to speak with Castiel. Privately."

Castiel stared at Ellen as she closed the cash register with all the money and signaled for Castiel to follow her into the kitchen. He lowered his head as he trailed behind her, fidgeting with the black shirt of his uniform. Once they were alone, Ellen turned around, facing him. She set her hands on her hips. Ellen was a strong woman. She had a no-nonsense attitude and her orders never went over anyone's head. She was the boss, there was no denying it.

"How well do you know Dean, Castiel?" Ellen asked. Her face remained blank of emotion. She waited for a reply.

"I've only known him a few days," Castiel admitted, although it didn't feel like that sometimes. Especially since he'd learned the truth. "He lives next door to me."

"Has he behaved?" Ellen hesitated. "Has he been aggressive with you?"

Castiel seemed to understand where this was going. Ellen was worried that Dean, being a demon, would harm those around him. "Not at all, Ellen." It was still strange calling his boss Ellen, but she had insisted. Apparently, Mrs. Harvelle made her feel old. "Dean and Sam have both been great neighbors so far."

"Good. That's good." Ellen dropped her hands from her hips. She leaned against the wall. "Don't get me wrong, I love those boys. The Winchesters were—are—family. But things are different now. I don't want to get into details, but my family could have been hurt because of them. We almost didn't make it. I'd feel better knowing more about this situation, but I don't want to get too close." Ellen shook her head. "I know I can't stop Jo from speaking to them. Sam's a good man. But Dean…I don't know who he is anymore."

Castiel knew it was fair not to trust Dean as a demon, but Ellen hadn't even seen him personally. She was holding onto the past. Castiel knew that the Winchesters had been responsible for The Roadhouse burning down, but they wouldn't intentionally hurt the Harvelles. Either way, it wasn't up to him to defend Dean. "I understand, Ellen. And I assure you, I'll be cautious around Dean."

Ellen nodded, her lips quirking up. "Thanks, son." She stood up straight and looked intently into his eyes. "I care about you like I care about Ash. I know I didn't carry you in my womb, but I'll still protect you like a momma bear. You got that?"

Castiel smiled sideways. This moment reminded Castiel why he had chosen this life. Why he had made the sacrifices that he had. Being human allowed him to form human relationships with good people. "Yes, ma'am."

"Get to work," Ellen ordered.

Castiel knew the moment was over.


That night, Castiel went to see Dean. The Impala wasn't in the driveway, so he guessed correctly that Dean would be antsy all alone in the house. Dean was eating the crumbs from the last pie Castiel had brought him. At the sight of him, Dean's eyes lit up. He must have been confused, because Castiel wasn't carrying any pie with him today. But Dean immediately started rambling on about his uneventful day.

Apparently, Dean found a spider in the bathroom, but when he tried to kill it, it moved away, and Dean had to chase it around. When he finally caught the spider, he felt bad about wanting to kill it, so he put it inside a jar. And then he color coordinated his closet. And Sam's. He also moved around the furniture in his bedroom. Then he learned the choreography of all the NSYNC music videos he found on YouTube.

"That sounds quite exciting, Dean," Castiel said. They sat on the couch in the living room. The television was on, but the only thing playing was infomercial after infomercial. No wonder Dean had been so happy to see him. "Where's Sam?"

Dean grunted, finishing up the crumbs on the empty aluminum plate. He set it down on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch. "Out. Working. He works a lot. I want to work. God, I want to work so bad."

"I was thinking about you earlier at work," Castiel admitted, sheepishly. Dean looked at him with interest. "I never mentioned that I know a thing or two about decorating cakes. Maybe you'd be interesting in me teaching you a few times a week?"

"Yes." Dean smiled widely. "Hell, yes. When can we get started?"

Castiel shrugged. "I'm available every day after six."

"That's still a lot of time to spend in here." Dean grimaced as he looked around the room. He seemed disgusted with the four walls around him. "I don't know how housewives do this. I clean this place all day and there is still dust on every surface. But that's not to mention the fact that I'm trapped in here."

"House arrest sounds like a nightmare," Castiel said, glancing at Dean. "But it's for your own good, Dean. Your safety is what matters most. We'll solve this soon enough."

Dean scoffed. "I'm not an idiot, Cas. I know there's no end to this. I'm going to have to keep living like this."

"Let's not think about that right now," Castiel said, forcing a smile. He knew it would be difficult, but there had to be a way out of this. He wouldn't take no for an answer. "I'm here, and I will always be here. I won't let you lose your mind in this house."

"Thanks." Dean rubbed his neck, looking away. He seemed uncomfortable with the attention. Castiel knew that they probably wouldn't have anymore "touchy-feely" moments like the previous night, but he wished he could reach out and hug Dean every time he was around him.

Castiel baked a pie in Dean's kitchen while Dean watched. Dean offered to help, but Castiel didn't need any help. He knew what he was doing. Besides, having Dean's company was soothing. Dean put the kettle on because he knew Castiel drank tea, and he put coffee on for himself. They sat on the floor in front of the coffee table with their mugs of coffee and tea while they watched those absurd infomercials.

By the time Sam made it home, Dean and Castiel had already finished the pumpkin pie. Sam found them on the couch. Castiel woke up a little startled when Sam had shaken his arm. Castiel had drifted off on Dean's shoulder, and Dean's cheek rested on Castiel's head. "I'll see you tomorrow," Castiel mumbled over to Dean, and Dean grumbled something incomprehensible. It made Castiel laugh. He was so tired, that as soon as he went into his bedroom, he collapsed on his bed and fell asleep.


Three weeks later, there had been no signs of anymore bounty hunters like Meg. Castiel decided to start carrying his blade with him, just in case. He had put it away for so many years that he found it difficult keeping it hidden on his waistband, or behind jackets and sweaters. But he knew it was safer that way.

Dean had improved on his cake decorating skills. He wasn't taking to fondant, but Castiel wasn't a huge fan of it either. He liked the simple pleasures of frosting. Sometimes Castiel felt like he lived at the Winchesters. As soon as he made it home, he only went home to change out of his uniform, and that was if he felt like it. On his lazier days, Castiel arrived on Dean's front porch in his dark jeans and black long-sleeve.

Today was one of those days. It wasn't entirely because he felt lazy, but Castiel had seen the way Dean looked at him whenever he wore his uniform. His gaze hardly ever left Castiel. Perhaps it was dangerous to crave Dean's attention, but Castiel couldn't deny that he did. He liked the way Dean looked at him. He liked the way Dean shared the tiny details of his day with him. He liked the way they worked together. He just liked being with Dean. They never did anything thrilling or highly entertaining, but they spent a lot of time together, and it seemed to be doing wonders to both of them. Their levels of crankiness had dimmed down considerably.

"Sam complained about our cakes," Dean said, throwing his feet on Castiel's lap as they both got comfortable on the couch. "He says we make too many cakes, and it's not helping his diet."

"He doesn't have to eat them."

"Yeah, I know, but temptation's a bitch." Dean smirked, throwing Castiel a funny look. Castiel tried to ignore it. Instead, he shifted on the couch, feeling his body sink down.

"So, if we can't bake another cake today, what are we going to do?"

Dean shrugged. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to go home. I can't keep pretending you don't have a life."

"Dean, this is my life. I work, and I come see you. Every day, it repeats. Except for my days off, when I'm practically here all day."

"Exactly," Dean said. "I'm an ass for making you waste your time here. I know you're a nice guy, but don't let dudes like me take advantage of you." Dean sat up, leaning close to Castiel. "You're off the hook, buddy."

"What?" Castiel tried not to breathe because if he did, he would inhale Dean's scent and he would be in trouble.

"I don't want you to come over anymore," Dean said, not moving an inch away. "Just because I'm stuck here, doesn't mean you should be."

"Dean, you're very mistaken if you think there are other places I could be when I'm here with you." Castiel tried to search for something that would make him sound less pathetic, but couldn't. "I like being here."

Dean arched a brow, looking doubtful. He didn't argue with Castiel, though. "I like you being here, too."

"Then we should figure out another way to pass the time." Castiel shoved Dean away before he rose from the couch. He headed into Dean's bedroom and waited for Dean to join him.

Dean's bedroom was painted a deep green color. There was a Queen Size bed against a wall, and a nightstand with a lamp on top of it. His closet was neatly organized. He noticed his shoes lined up straight, below his shirt. There was a bookshelf up against another wall. Only two of the five shelves had books. The other three had framed photographs of his family. There was a single poster on one of the walls, and it was an AC/DC one.

"My mind went straight to the gutter as soon as you walked in here," Dean said, coming to stand beside him.

Castiel snorted. "You like to read?"

"Sometimes," Dean said, clearing his throat. "I've read all of those books. Mostly Vonnegut."

"Interesting." Castiel walked over to the few books Dean owned. Old, battered copies of Vonnegut, some sci-fi, classics, and one of two romance novels that Dean seemed to pretend weren't there. "I've never read Vonnegut."

"That is a sacrilege," Dean said.

"Says the demon." Castiel looked over at Dean with a grin. He picked up Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut. "Do you think this is a good place to start with Vonnegut?"

"Yeah, I mean, you can't go wrong with that one. Wait, what are you doing?"

Castiel grabbed the book and headed back into the living room. "We're going to read each other's books, and then we'll discuss them. Have you ever heard of book clubs?"

Dean blinked at him. "Wait, you want me to read? All day? That's your big plan?"

Castiel stopped and turned around. "Wait here while I bring you my copy of Animal Farm."

"Cas, I have movies," Dean insisted, blocking the door. "I have music. I have video games. I have food. We can bake more pies. Hell, we can bake more cakes. Sam can deal with it."

Castiel laughed, folding his arms. "Why are you so against my idea? You obviously have read books before."

"Yes, but those are good books. Besides, that's from back when I was human. When it was mostly safe being inside my head."

"Dean, you can do this. It'll be fun, I promise you."

Dean sighed, moving out of the way. "Go get your damned book."

Castiel smiled. "Thank you."

"Fuck you."

"I can do that myself," Castiel said, heading outside.

"What?" Dean gaped at him. His eyes widened. "Oh God, the mental image."

"I do it every night."

"Shut up. Dammit, Cas." The look in Dean's face was priceless. He shut the door with a loud thud.

Castiel smiled all the way to his house.