So... This is the soonest I've ever updated between chapters. There are actually two important reasons why I am updating today. Since it it June 1st, it officially marks the one year anniversary since I started Surrender in Blue and began this amazing journey. I honestly never thought I would have made it this far.

I just wanted to thank everyone who has left a comment, kudos, followed or bookmarked this story. It's because of you that I have made it to this point. I also wanted to say a huge, massive thank you to my beta, BlueNeutrino for sticking with me for so long. Thank you for all your advice, ideas and for correcting all my mistake, however stupid they may have been. You've been a great support! And of course, thank you to my friends for enduring all my whining and moaning as I tossed around ideas, moved certain events around, questioned myself or was conflicted with ideas. Thank you for just listening and then helping me decide when I needed opinions. I couldn't have gotten to this point without you.

Also! Though nine chapters may not see like a lot for working on something for a year, I wanted to let you all know, I am actually about five chapters ahead of the chapter I post. I keep them set aside so if I ever do suffer from writers block, I can always update and not leave you all hanging and wondering if I abandoned this story.

The second important reason why I am updating is more of a personal reason. Today would have been my grandma's 94th birthday. Though she really never understood my passion for writing or what I was doing every Sunday during my visits (most likely writing a sex scene). I am so sorry, Grandma! She always encouraged me to do what I wanted it and would be nothing but proud of me when she did try to understand what I was up to. She was such a big part of my life and I feel like it's only fitting to pay tribute to her by honouring her with another part that's big in my life: my writing.

So, today, this chapter is dedicated to my grandma. I hope where she is she's happy and enjoying her time with her loved ones.

I miss you, Grandma. You will always be in my heart.

Rem: I love you. xoxo


Dean sat across Sam in the booth, glancing down at the menu even though he already knew what he was going to get.

It was the first Saturday of August. Dean had the day off, much to his enjoyment. Cas was over at Gabe's. He wanted an opinion on some keynote presentation he was doing next week. Anyway, he practically called every five minutes last night until Castiel finally agreed to meet him for lunch.

Sam and Dean were at a bar and grill on the west side of Manhattan, mainly because they were at Sam's favourite place and this lunch was for him.

A young blonde, most likely a college student falling into the cliché of waiting tables while trying to not drown in her student debt, led them to a booth off to the side of the bar.

They each ordered a beer before she walked off. The restaurant wasn't too busy for a Saturday afternoon. There were a couple of tables filled with university students off to the left.

"So," Dean spoke up as soon as they ordered their drinks. "Congratulations you big nerd. Now you can swap being a pain in my ass about the exam to being an even bigger pain in my ass as you wait for November."

Sam rolled his eyes and picked up his beer. "Jeez, thanks. I forgot how connected with your feelings you could be." Sam just finished writing his bar exam Wednesday, so today was sort of a celebration until he got his result, and then they would have a real party.

"Aw, come on, Sammy, you know I'm proud of you. And I know you're going to pass, if all the time you spent melting down over studying is any indication." Dean started chuckling while Sam shot him a 'bitch face', as he had dubbed it.

"Let's see you pull through seven years of school. If I remember correctly, it was Cas who kicked your ass through high school and college." The younger man smirked when his brother's only response was a glare.

"Yeah, yeah." Dean waved his hand about. Though, he couldn't deny that Cas was a major reason why he graduated high school with the grades he did. In college it was more giving him the push he needed to finish writing an essay or study for a test. He wouldn't tell Sam that those ways resulted in some very explicit scenarios.

The waitress came with their food while Sam was in the middle of explaining what he'd be doing at the law firm in the meantime.

"I won't be working on large cases, but I'll get to supervise." He smiled as he forked at his salad. Finally, after so many years of stressful tests, papers, exams and sleepless nights, his hard work was paying off.

"So you're basically someone's servant." Dean let out a chuckle, though his brother didn't look amused.

"Really, Dean? Do you always have to make a joke out of everything I get excited about?" he asked in an annoyed tone. He scoffed when his brother just gave another shrug of his shoulders and took a long pull from his beer. "Remind me to act like that the next time a promotion or some shit comes up at your work."

The older Winchester shifted and cleared his throat. Benny was the other reason he had asked Sam to come out for lunch. His friend had texted him last night, reminding him that applications were now being accepted.

"What?" Sam quirked an eyebrow and eyed his brother suspiciously; Dean wanted to talk. "Is there some…?" he trailed off.

Dean rolled his tongue along his cheek, trying to figure out how to start off the conversation. It could either go okay or end in a fight like last time.

He broke the news about his interest in going undercover while Sam had been studying for his first law exam a little over three years ago. He had been pissed, not liking the idea of his brother disappearing for God knows how long. But it was mainly because his brother ruined all chances for to him get any studying done for the rest of the night.

"Benny came to me," Dean began ambiguously, picking at his fries. Sam knew Benny from the last time he hinted at wanting to go undercover.

Sam took a large pull from his beer before putting the glass down. "Okay, I'll bite. What did he want this time?" Even though he had a faint idea, he knew his brother wanted to announce the news.

"They're putting together another operation. Sometime in January." Dean picked up his burger, taking a large bite out of it. Sam just stared down at his chicken, trying to figure out exactly how to approach this. "Benny offered to put my application into the final round if I decided. I mean, I'm not guaranteed the position, but I'd make it through the hard parts."

"Is this what you want to do?" Sam broke the silence after a few minutes of thinking. He didn't know something like this still interested Dean. After the first failed attempt his brother never talked about undercover again.

Dean shrugged. "If Benny offered I'd consider it."

The younger Winchester nodded; his lips were pressed into a hard line. He still was against Dean working in the Organized Crime Division, but if his brother really wanted this than he'd stand by him.

"And have you talked to Cas about this?" It was the question of interest. Usually Dean made rash decision without telling anyone, but this was leaving his life behind for a month, maybe even more.

"What, no," Dean scoffed. "Do you think I'm an idiot? I'm not gonna tell Cas… Yet," he added when he saw Sam's unimpressed expression. It was a poor attempt at humour and the younger man wasn't falling for it.

"Dean." His tone was warning. "I'm being serious. If you actually want this you're going to have to talk to Cas about this."

"I know," Dean snapped. "I'll tell him, just not now. I want to make sure this is happening; no need to worry the man with something that may not happen."

"'The man'?" he questioned. "Dude, he's your husband."

He didn't respond, and instead focused on his burger. Sam watched his brother thoughtfully, trying to figure all this out.

"Whatever happened to you two? Three years ago you were fine. Hell, you guys were great. Then all of a sudden you changed."

"Just time," He replied lamely; his voice was low and emotionless. "We grew apart. Working with your spouse is not a good idea."

"Bullshit, Dean. I know you. Time did not happen. It may have a role in it, but something else happened. You don't look at Cas the same way he looks at you."

Dean was silent again. He wanted to say more. Tell Sam that he didn't understand—and wouldn't understand. It was best if he stayed out of it.


Castiel was in the middle of emptying the dishwasher when Dean came strolling out of their room, dressed in his signature jeans and a red shirt with a black t-shirt underneath. He was dressed up compared to Cas' own grey t-shirt and black sweatpants. He was cleaning the house today, so he didn't feel the need to dress in anything more than lounge wear.

Dean stopped at the kitchen's entranceway, hovering just at the threshold.

"I'm going out," he announced, playing with his phone.

Castiel looked up from his task, taking in Dean's attire. He noticed the little gold amulet that hung around his neck; a present from Sam for Christmas years ago. It was a sweet sight that after all these years Dean still wore it faithfully. A sadder sight for him—though he doubted anyone noticed—was the lack of a second chain. The day after their "wedding", if you could really call getting married at City Hall a wedding; they had both slipped their rings around silver chains they bought the week before. It was an agreement they both made to avoid questions, mainly for Dean with the police academy.

"No clue when I'll be back, so just text if you need anything, I guess." Dean shrugged, still looking down at his phone, oblivious to Castiel's staring.

The younger man blinked a couple of times, trying to refocus his gaze. "Okay. And where are you going?"

Dean looked up from his phone. "The store. I just have a few places I need to run to." He was hugging a file folder to his chest, using his arm since his hands were currently busying typing on his phone.

The younger man noticed the folder, but didn't comment on it. It would just result in Dean dodging the question and they'd been getting along decently the past week.

"All right. I'll see you later. Am I going to be making dinner or are you going to be out late?" With Dean, Cas never knew how long his "errands" would take. There were days when Dean would be gone from morning until midnight or as short as two hours.

"Just make something. I'll eat whenever I get home." Castiel nodded and went back to unloading the clean bowls.

"I'm making pasta, so if you don't want that then get something else."

"Pasta is fine," Dean responded, before opening their door and stepping out into the hallway.

Castiel quickly finished up in the kitchen and then moved into the living room. Dean had left papers—probably work shit—all over the coffee table, which pissed Cas off since they had established a rule that they wouldn't leave any papers or files lying around. They also had a rule that neither one was to touch each other's things if they did not know what it was for. They had created the rule after Dean had moved one of Cas' books, which they still had yet to find, and placed it somewhere he couldn't remember.

He cleaned what he could, mainly dusting and then pulling out the vacuum. As soon as they started living together, Dean and Cas decided who would do what around the apartment—condo. Cas always did the cleaning; he had a routine from when he lived with his brothers and he preferred to stick to it. Dean did the laundry, claiming that it didn't take as long as dusting, but Cas didn't mind. And as for cooking, it alternated. They took turns cooking, although they never fixed a schedule.

Cas went into their room next. The room was cluttered, a typical thing when they were on their round of night shifts. They were always too tired to pick up after themselves, and it also usually resulted in larger than usual loads of laundry.

He opened the drawer to his nightstand. Shoving the few papers and the watch Michael had gotten him for his birthday four years ago—he had yet to wear it—he found what he was looking for. He picked the little black ring box. He didn't bother opening it; he knew what was in it, having not opened it in over a year.

Castiel had remembered one day when Dean forgot to put his chain on. It hadn't been a big production; his husband just simply left it on his night side table one day, and slowly fell into the pattern of not wearing it.

He had made an observation of the missing jewelry, but never got a satisfactory answer from his husband. Instead of pushing further he just let the subject drop and it was quickly forgotten.

And Cas, a few weeks later, stopped wearing his chain. He assumed Dean never noticed since he'd never once—and still has yet to—comment on it.

He kept his own ring safely tucked in its box, in the back corner of his nightstand, where it stayed all the time. Though the same couldn't be said for Dean who probably didn't even know where his ring was. Three years was a long time, it could've been misplaced anywhere. If his husband didn't have any attachment to the gold band, than what was stopping him from keeping it?

He fiddled with the little black box. He wondered if he were to start wearing his ring again, but this time one his finger, where it belonged, would Dean care? What would his coworkers think? They all assumed he was too focused on his job to worry about relationships.

In a way, it was sort of ironic. Everyone he knew that was not family assumed his love life was nonexistent; when really he was fully committed to Dean in every way possible.


January 2008

"You're going to do fine, babe," Dean soothed, walking up behind Cas and wrapped his arms around his husband's middle.

Castiel was fussing, working himself up before he even started his first day at 23.

"But what if someone figures it out?" he worried. "What if they all can tell that we're together? Sam and Gabe are always teasing us that we don't watch ourselves."

Dean chuckled and placed his chin on Cas' shoulder. "It's fine; don't worry about it," he reassured Castiel for probably the fifth time in less than two hours. "We won't see each other much today. You'll be busy with your training officer."

The younger man nodded, but still wasn't convinced. He placed his hand over Dean's, which were still wrapped around him.

"Are you sure it's okay if we work at the same precinct?" he asked in a low voice, still sounding unsure. "I could always put in a transfer request as soon as my training is over."

It was unexpected that they would both end up at 23. The fact was that they were keeping their relationship a secret until an appropriate time—whenever that would be. Working in the same precinct would be tough, especially since they were still newly married, a year as of the past September. Dean still liked placing his hand inappropriately on Cas, regardless if they were in public, and especially if they were around Sam. Though Dean would have preferred Cas to be placed at a different precinct (not 17 since everyone over there was a dick), he was looking forward to getting to see his husband a lot more than he would have if he was over at 20, 14, or hell, even 17.

"Nah," Dean hummed and nuzzled his face into Castiel's neck. "I like that we'll be together. I get to know that you're safe." The young man began to leave kisses along his husband's neck, careful enough to not suck and leave a mark.


"I get to know you're safe" the words seemed to echo around the room. Playing around Castiel like a ghost's whisper.

Sometimes he would wonder if they would be in this mess of a marriage had he not listened to Dean and actually transferred to another precinct. There were warnings that couples should never work together; it gets messy. And now they'd become that cliché.

Curiously, the man pulled the ring box open, looked down at the gold band nestled in the middle of the black cushion. The silver chain was still attached, pooling in the centre of the ring. It looked lonely.

"Fuck, Dean," Castiel sighed out loud. Why was he getting nostalgic over a ring? It wasn't the piece of metal itself though, it was the memories it carried. The meaning it had.

Their relationship hadn't changed overnight; it was gradual. It slowly started with the little things that were said, and the thoughts that weren't. Communication was the bitch.

Cas gritted his teeth at the thought. Out of all the men he could have fallen in love with, it had to be with the most private man there ever was. Dean was horrible at communicating, resulting in struggles. Not to mention, Dean often punished himself for things that weren't even his fault.


May 2010

"She's a great girl, Dean. Sam's very lucky." Castiel kicked off his shoes and walked over to the couch, dropping down heavily. He was exhausted. He and Dean just returned from Bobby's after spending the entire day celebrating Sam's twenty-first birthday.

It turned out to be a beautiful, sunny day, perfect for the barbeque Bobby had planned.

It was also an important day not only because of Sam's birthday, but Sam brought over Jess for the first time. They were dating for a little over a month now, and Sam decided he wanted her to meet his family, mainly Dean. He's brother's approval meant everything.

"She is." Dean joined his husband on the couch, throwing his feet up, and letting them land in Cas' lap. The other man grumbled, but placed his hands on Dean's legs, massaging his shins. "Sammy did good. Andy was boasting about how he set them up." Dean chuckled, thinking about his brother's high strung friend. Andy Gallagher was a good kid, but in serious need of a Xanax.

"Apparently they are the 'cutest couple' in their group of friends," Castiel teased, remembering Andy's choice of words after his fifth beer that nigh. Luckily he had carpooled with Sam and Jess.

Dean hummed, but remained impassive. Seeing his brother with his new girlfriend so open and affectionate only reminded Dean of what he couldn't have—chose not to have. It was his decision to keep their relationship secret until (if) it ever became legalized here. Sure, it wasn't like the nineteen-sixties. Same-sex marriage was moving forward, people were more receptive to the idea, but it still wasn't accepted everywhere. Their marriage still wasn't legal in every state.

This was the question that bothered them both. It was now almost four years since they married and no one outside of their families knew about it, as far as they knew. New York still didn't recognize their marriage. It wasn't about what strangers thought, it was about their friends.

"Kind of reminded me of us when we first started dating," Cas continued, oblivious to Dean's inner mussing.

"Were we really that clingy?" Dean chuckled, thinking back to some of his favourite moments of theirs.

"Probably worse. You remember what Sam and Gabe used to say about us? About how we looked like we were always seconds alway-"

"Always seconds away from screwing each other," Dean finished; Sam had said that to him that night.

"They did look cute together. Sam never left Jess' side for long. Kind of makes me wish we could be so open." The words were out before Castiel could stop them. He didn't mean to say it; he meant to say how happy Sam looked. Damn Freudian slip.

Castiel felt Dean tense up immediately. He pulled his legs off and sat up, using the middle cushion of the couch as a separator.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." He slid closer to Dean. He smiled at Cas, though it was tight-lipped.

"It's fine, Cas. I know what you meant." But the words still struck Dean. Damn it, why were relationships so hard? Marriage was so hard.

They'd kept it quiet successfully at work for over two years now. They still both worked at 23 Precinct, and were occasionally pared up together, which was the best part; no one was around them. They were certain that no one knew about them, but at times Cas was reminded they worked with a bunch of men and women who knew how to read people. Were they really as carefully as the thought they were?

Cas hated the hiding. He hated it and would have been vocal about it, but because he loved Dean, and would do anything for him, he sucked it up and bit his tongue. He wasn't ashamed of who he loved. He didn't care what others thought, if they were ostracized by people, he just wanted to be able to kiss Dean openly.

But how could Dean let everybody else know that he was married to Cas when his own father was not supportive? As far as John knew, Dean was still with Cas, he just didn't know how "official" their relationship had become, and that was because he left his visits with John Winchester to once a year. There was too much to explain in an hour visit and normally Dean's relationship status was ignored in favour of John attacking his career. It still pissed of John that his son was a police officer, working as one of those "above the law assholes".

Dean loved Cas, but the crippling fear of disappointing his father even more stopped him from announcing to everyone that he was married to Cas. He already disappointed his father enough, not going farther in university, his career choice, and his choice of lover. His father would probably lose it if he heard that Cas wasn't just a "fling", as the patriarch Winchester often referred to it.

John had been in jail for about four years now and Dean had visited his father a total of six times. Four had been with Sam to divert John's attention from focusing solely on him.


Dean walked through the doors of 23. Luckily the shifts hadn't turned over yet, so the station was fairly quiet.

He looked around, half expecting to see one of his friends; no one was supposed to know he was here. There was a high chance he could run into Charlie. She was taking on extra shifts so she could save money for a new apartment, but he didn't know when. She was the one that worried Dean the most—her and Chuck.

"Dean! 'Bout time." Benny walked up to Dean, stopping about a foot away. "You know I've been waiting for you. Thought I'd have your application first thing last Friday." The detective glanced down at Dean's hand, holding the folder. A small smirk appeared on his face.

Dean cleared his throat and held up his hand with his application. "I know." He wondered if he should apologize. Benny was doing him a favour and he was sort of taking advantage of that with the submission delay. "I was just-"

"Makin' sure this is what you wanted," the detective finished the younger man's sentence, and though it was what Dean was thinking, it hadn't been what he was going to say.

Dean stared at the man and gave a crooked smirk. "Wanted to make sure I had a chance."

"Let's go up and talk." Benny didn't take Dean's folder and instead moved to the staircase, leading the way up to the Organized Crime Division.

The floor was very similar to the squad room, lined with desks and computers, except, instead of a room filled with blue uniforms, everyone was in various shades of grey and black suits. There was a slightly arrogant feel as people walked by Dean, eyeing the police officer as if he didn't belong there.

Dean had been up to this area only a handful of times, and those were mainly because he needed to speak to Benny. It wasn't a very welcoming area, but had held promise.

Dean remembered after the last time he applied for undercover, they had offered up an internship as a narcotics detective. Dean had taken extra classes, hoping to help him win the spot. He loved being out on the streets, but at the same time, he wanted more. Getting an internship, which could have led to a permanent position, would have been a blessing. It also would have meant less time with Cas, which, though the thought never crossed the couple's minds, may have helped their marriage.

Cas had been aware of his applying to the detective spot. Last time, he had told Cas he wanted to try and move up from a patrol officer. Cas had been supportive and encouraged him. He had worked hard to get the position. The classes he had taken had been a pain in the ass and stressful, but worth it, had he gotten the position. It was almost okay to say that he had been devastated with the decision and things had been tense for a week after.

Benny sat down at his desk, dropping down into his chair and kicking his feet on top of the wooden surface. "Sit." he pointed to the empty desk next to his. Dean pulled out the swivel chair and rolled it closer to Benny.

"I can't stay-" Dean began, trying to tell the detective that he was just dropping off his application, but the man cut him off.

"You know, if you do get the task force, it could lead to something more… Permanent." Benny smirked when confusion spread across Dean's face. He reached out, pulling the pale yellow folder from Dean's hand and dropped it on a small stack of papers on his desk. "Morganson is retiring at the end of the year," Benny began to explain. "Hasn't announced it to anyone but us, but someone will be promoted, which means a replacement will be needed for him." He looked up at Dean, practically seeing the wheels turn in his head.

It was a hint. Benny always said he'd be Dean's "inside ears". They met about six months after Dean joined the force. He had to drop off a file from a case he was working on, running up to the floor he ran into Benny. The man was a little unorthodox, but he coaxed Dean into staying with him, interested in hearing the rookie's opinion on the case. The detective usually though rookies were so sure of themselves, but found Dean to be different. He was cocky, sure, but he wasn't about to jump into the field with an itchy trigger finger, he studied everything thoroughly. After that meeting, Benny had shown up more often, sometimes during his break just to talk to Dean. The officer wouldn't consider Benny a friend like Charlie or Chuck—they hardly saw each other outside of work—but occasionally they would take during their break.

"Just thought I'd give ya a heads up," he continued, when Dean didn't respond. He smirked mischievously. "You know… In case something was to come up. You're a hard worker Dean, and you're determined."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was 'too cocky for my own good' and that I needed a 'kick in the ass'," he mocked, repeating the words Benny had once spoke to him when he applied for the first task force.

The detective chuckled and shook his head. "You see, this is why you'd fit in up here. You already have the attitude."

"Benny," a sharp voice called out. A young blonde detective stood up from a desk three up from Benny's. The woman was tall, probably from the heels she wore. Her hair was long in a half-up half-down style. Like most female detectives, she was in black slacks, matching her blazer. "Let's go. Richardson asked to see us before lunch. Remember?"

The man glanced at the woman and then to Dean. "Be right there, Rachel." He dropped his feet off the desk with a heavy 'thud' on the ground.

The woman nodded and smiled at Dean, who looked her way. The grin was slightly condescending; she knew Dean wasn't a detective, he didn't have the look.

"Gotta go, Winchester." Benny stood up from his chair and patted Dean on the shoulder. "We'll talk again later. And I'll pass the application to along to Amelia."

"See ya, Lafitte." Dean stood up from his chair, pushing it back to its spot. The man walked off, following Rachel and Dean went the other way, walking over to the stairs.