Chapter 10:

/Even though going on with you gone still upsets me, there are days now and again I pretend I'm OK. But that's not what gets me. What hurts the most, was being so close. And having so much to say, and watching you walk away. And never knowing, what could have been. And not seeing that loving you, is what I was tryin' to do./ Rascal Flats "What Hurts The Most"

"She tricked me."

Dean choked on his sandwich when he heard Cas' voice. Looking up, he found the angel standing over him with a demeanor of not just alarm, but anger. A familiar, though recently absent, tingle of excitement rushed up his spine when he saw that expression.

He didn't have to worry about lingering too long on the memory of how he felt about that particular look, because he soon realized he was not in his hotel room anymore. Instead, he was sitting on Cas' bed in the mental ward.

"She deceived me." Cas added urgently.

"I did not." Meg said, as she came striding into the room. She sighed and crossed her arms and Dean could tell that she was trying not to smirk.

The frown on Castiel's face, and the way he glared at the demon through the corners of his eyes, pleased Dean more than he felt was right. "What's going on with you two?"

Turning his gaze sharply to the only mortal in the room, Cas stated, "She is trying to rub my vessel with a holey piece of solidified petroleum oil." Cas returned to glaring at Meg the second he was finished, as if silently daring her to deny his accusation.

Meg sighed deeply, "A sponge bath! I offered..." she trailed off because she couldn't help but grin at the way Dean was now glaring at her. She could see how outraged, offended, and jealous he was all in the depths of those pretty green eyes. "My boss is starting to question the humanity of our little angel here."

Dean knew she had a point. Humans bathed and it was bound to happen that something like this would come up. Although he was surprised it wasn't about eating first.

"I don't require bathing." Castiel pressed, looking at Dean in a pleading manner.

"You smell." Meg commented, waving her hand in front of her face as if the offending odor had reached her, even with all the distance between them.

"Dean." Cas said after glaring at Meg. "Tell her I don't have to take a bath."

Holding up his hands, one towards each of the other worldly beings in front of him, Dean stood and weighed his options. He could tell Cas that Meg was wrong. This would both spoil Meg's plans and comfort Cas.

He stole a glance at Cas, who was looking at him like a frightened rabbit waiting for the okay that the predator was gone. Just as he identified the expression, he realized it had changed. Cas' face showed that he understood, and in a single instant was resigned to his fate of having to take a bath, for whatever reason.

And Meg looked pleased.

Dean opened his mouth to protest when Cas started talking again.

"Will you help me?"

There had been no preparing for that request, even when that had been what Dean had secretly been hoping to do. His option two. Keep calm Dean. He told himself. Cas isn't completely back to normal and there is no saying anything is going to happen. He started nodding, "Of course."

Seeing how pissed Meg was made Dean suddenly more confident, a small smirk appearing on his lips, "Anytime Cas."

"I'm the one that has been watching over you while you talked to bees and stared at the wall." Meg protested, sending Dean a hateful glance.

Cas shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the position he had been placed in. In fact, Dean was surprised he hadn't flown off to the rec room to avoid the whole confrontation. Maybe he still would?

"I know." Cas started carefully, "And I appreciate it, but I would prefer if Dean assisted me. We have a more intimate connection..."

"She doesn't need details." Dean put in quickly, moving closer to Castiel who was gazing at him in a confused manner. He shot Meg an awkward smile, which made the demon roll her eyes.

"Why did I even bother?" She questioned before leaving the room.

Next to him, Castiel relaxed. "Thank you."

Dean shrugged, "No problem." He could see that the angel was still nervous and it occurred to him that Castiel might have created a sort of fear of water from what had happened the last time he was in it. "You know, you don't have to take a bath." He could see hope in the angel's bright blue eyes, which all but confirmed his suspicions. "You could take a shower?"

"What do I require to complete this?"

Dean chuckled, "Well towels, clean clothes, shampoo?" Eventually, Dean went around the room with the angel and located the items they needed. They then walked over to the guys shower room.

Luckily, it was not being used at the moment.

"Ok, these are the knobs for the water. If you're lucky, there will be some sort of label on them to tell you which temperature is which. Usually the cold is on this side..." Dean paused in his explanation, his hand under the running water, when he heard the familiar sound of clothes falling to the floor.

His heart beat harder in his chest, his cheeks suddenly warmer, "Cas?"

"Yes?"

Dean tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. How many times had he longed for a moment like this? Why here? Why now? "Are you naked?"

"Doesn't one have to be naked to..." Castiel stopped when Dean held up his hand.

"Just get into the shower stall." Dean requested softly, using every ounce of control he had to not turn around and ravish the angel senseless... or more senseless than he was already.

Cas' eyebrows scrunched in confusion, even as he started to step into the shower. He paused, half way in and asked: "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Dean answered and Cas thought he sounded strained. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Dean kept his eyes tightly shut, managing to relax a little when he heard the shower curtain close. He willed himself not to imagine how Cas might look right now, or the way he would look when the water started running over his body. His eyes shot open as a familiar throbbing sensation started building inside of him.

He ran through every boner killing, disgusting image he could muster, and then focused on getting the water the right temperature for the angel.

There had been hesitation from Castiel to even try the water. In fact, he wouldn't consider it until Dean did something else for him. "Can I hold your hand?"

Even if he had wanted too, he wouldn't have been able to say no to Cas then. Not when he sounded so miserable.

Pulling his jacket off, Dean rolled up his sleeve and stuck his arm passed the curtain, through the water, and to Cas. He jerked when he felt Cas take his hand, surprised at how hard the grasp had been. But Cas got into the water then.

Dean could feel Castiel shaking as the water washed over him.

"What do I do now?" Castiel asked, after a few seconds under the shower head.

Looking around quickly, Dean grabbed the bottle of shampoo. "Wash your hair."

"Does this require the use of both of my hands?"

Dean looked at the hand he was holding and realized how much he didn't want to let go of it. "Unfortunately, it does." He felt the angel's grasp on his hand tighten a little, making him wince in discomfort, so he added: "You can get out of the water if you want too, but you might..." He didn't get a chance to finish since Castiel was already moving. Since the angel backed out of the water, he ended up pulling Dean into the shower more.

After wrestling with the curtain for a moment, Dean managed to get out of the shower without getting completely soaked. Then, he moved to the back of the shower stall, all while still holding Cas' hand. Or well, Cas still holding his hand.

He spotted an orderly, who was giving them an apprehensive expression. "Hydropho... Aquapho... He's afraid of water." Dean tried, at a loss for a sane way to explain what was happening. Well you see, a few years ago I fell in love with an angel. Then I found out he loved me too. But it wasn't easy to love each other. Not with fighting the Apocalypse, raising my brother from a special corner of Hell, turning into a God, exploding and unleashing an ancient form of evil on to all of humanity. You know, just the normal struggles of two men in love.

Quickly, Dean turned his attention back to Cas. "Hold out your hands."

Cas did as he was asked, pursing his lips when he saw the white liquid that was squeezed into his palms. "Is it supposed to look like that?"

Dean found himself laughing, "Yeah, it comes in different scents and shit. Sammy could tell you more about it. I use whatever is at the hotel. Sam has special stuff to make his hair look so pretty."

Cas nodded in acceptance before looking to his hands again. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Ok, watch me." Dean pressed his hands together, trying to focus on the best way to explain this, so he wouldn't think about how naked and wet the angel was. Focus on his face, Winchester. Don't you dare divert your eyes below his Adam's apple...

Castiel maintained Dean's gaze, pressing his hands together to smear the shampoo over his palms. Mechanically, he brought his hands to his head and started to slowly move them in jerky motions around his head, like Dean was doing to his own.

Annoyed that Cas didn't seem to be doing it right, or maybe because he wanted an excuse to touch the angel's damp hair, Dean reached out and started scrubbing Castiel's head for him. Without thinking much about it, his hands slipped over Cas', locking their fingers together.

He realized he was rambling then. Talking about anything he could think of so he wouldn't think about how close he was to Castiel, or how good he smelled now, not that he ever seem to smell bad really.

"When Sammy was little," Dean continued, trying to ignore how intensely Cas was looking at him as he scrubbed his scalp. "He would play in the bathtub for hours. Dad hated it because he was usually tired or busy hunting something, and just wanted us to hurry up and get dressed. But when we were alone, I would let Sam play in the bathtub until he turned into a giant prune."

Dean forced a laughed that sounded strained as he continued. "I would steal bottles of Mr. Bubble and just watch him go to town. He would laugh and laugh and splash water and suds all over the place. And when the water was too cold or all the bubbles were gone, we would start all over again. We did that together until Sam was like, ten. God, it made him so happy..."

"Why are you so sad when you think about kissing me?"

Mid sentence, Dean froze. His fingers tangled tightly in Cas's hair, trembling as he finally moved his gaze from the angel's forehead, drifting slowly down to his eyes. He realized his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn't make it shut. He was captivated by the way the angel was gazing at him.

"I thought kissing was something pleasant that humans shared with each other?"

Dean slowly pulled his hands from Castiel's hair, watching as Cas mirrored his movement with his own. Soap dripped from theirs fingertips, as water ran down theirs arms. His shirt was damp from where water had splashed on to him, he refused to look lower on Cas. "It is."

"Then why aren't you happy?" Cas asked in a concerned manner. He could see that Dean looked miserable, like thinking about the answer broke his heart. "Is it because you believe I no longer want to kiss you?"

Dean couldn't look at any part of Cas then. He didn't want to think about how much he wanted to kiss Cas. It felt like every fiber in his being wanted to yank Cas close, and press their bodies together, to love him the way they should have a long time ago. But he hesitated, because this was the same Cas that talked to bees and was frightened of confrontation. What if it was too much to ask for?

But then he thought about the last thing Cas had said. Finally, dragging his eyes back to Cas, he asked, "Do... do you want to kiss me?"

Cas hesitated for a moment, a contemplative expression on his face. "Kissing you was very enjoyable."

The corner of Dean's mouth went up and a small laugh broke the tension he was feeling. "So a yes then." Licking his lips, he felt his smile growing. Quickly, he cupped Cas' face and kissed him firmly on the cheek. He pressed his lips against the coarse scruff of Cas' face, trembling when he heard the softest gasp of pleasure come from the angel's mouth.

Slowly, he pulled away, his lips brushing against Cas' cheek as he departed, revealing how soft the angel's facial hair was despite the initial texture. "We should get you rinsed off." Dean whispered, "Before soap gets in your eyes."

Cas looked up through the tops of his eyes, as if expecting a wave of soap to come rushing over his face. Turning his attention to the front of the shower, he saw Dean's hand waiting for him. Relief rushed over him, as he moved towards the water with a little more ease than the first time.

With his arm extended, Cas stepped back into the water. His hand met Dean's, their fingers brushing before lacing together.

"Close your eyes." Dean explained, bringing Cas' hand as close as he could to himself. Leaning against the wall while facing the shower, Dean gazed at Cas' hand, tracing each knuckle as he explained to Cas how he should rinse the soap from his hair. He was brought back from his contemplations when he realized Cas' arm was relaxing.

He shifted enough to look and realized Cas wasn't standing in the water anymore, but under it. In fact, he was pressed against the wall of the shower stall, gazing at Dean in a way that was both sad and loving. Dean's breath hitched when he saw that, and felt the gentle touch of Cas' thumb against his hand.

And the desire to kiss Cas rose up inside of him again. "We should probably get you dried off." Dean realized he had answered in sharp breath, as if afraid someone was listening in on them. Before he had a chance to think about it much, the water turned off.

Turning quickly, he heard Cas step out of the shower. He listened to the rustling of the towel and the twisting of fabric as Cas redressed.

"Dean."

He turned around when he heard his name, smiling despite himself at the angel. Cas was dressed once more in scrubs, but the material was clinging to his body in spots where he was still damp. Water ran in small trails along the sides of his face, because his hair was still mostly wet. The normal bed head of hair even crazier than normal, an unruly mess of curls and waves.

Picking up the drier of the towels, Dean walked over to Cas. He dropped the towel over the angel's head and started rubbing away the moisture from Cas' hair. "We don't want you to get pneumonia." It was a stupid joke, because he knew Cas couldn't get sick like that. Part of him longed to hear Cas point out the obvious error in the statement, but instead he got a reply from left field.

"You can kiss me if you want too.." Cas whispered. "Like we used too."

Dean stopped what he is doing, but it was Cas who moved the towel from his face. It slipped from his hands, which was startling on its own, because Dean didn't remember letting it go. All he could do was stare into those blue eyes, the same shade as a bright summer's sky. They were so clear and so focused, for a moment he thought Cas was back to normal. No more following paths in flowers, communicating through board games, or refusing to fight with them. His Cas had finally come home.

So whatever resistance he had ended. His hands slid under Cas's trench and along his sides, amazed at how slender the angel was under his ill-fitting clothes. Dean licked his lips as he leaned in to kiss the angel, when a loud noise broke out behind them.

The orderlies were wrestling with a individual who was struggling to get away from them. He was screaming, clawing, and sometimes biting the hospital workers. He turned his eyes to Dean, with an animistic expression of rage.

Dean's eyes widened, just like Cas' did, but not for the same reasons. In a second they had vanished from the shower room and appeared in the rec room. Turning quickly, he found Cas sitting at the table, hurrying to place the pieces of an out dated board game into play.

Sadness crept over him, when he realized Cas wasn't as healed as he had hoped.

As if hearing the mortal's thoughts, Cas twisted and looked at Dean with large, nervous eyes. "Will you play with me?"

Dean drew in a breath through his nose and nodded, "Sure. I'll play for a little bit."

The relief in those bright blue eyes made Dean happy. "Thank you. You can pick your piece first." Cas said as he turned in his chair, watching as Dean moved around the table and to the seat across from him.

Dean paused and looked thoughtfully at the chair he had almost sat in, his hand gripping the back. He drew his lips in, before turning his gaze to the angel. A pleased look crossing his features as he yanked the chair behind himself and moved it closer to Cas.

He sat down then and leaned forward on the table against his forearms, smiling briefly at the angel. As he reached out with his right hand for the dice, he felt something against his side. Dean looked down just in time to watch as Cas slipped his hand under his arm, brushing it against his palm, before lacing their fingers together.

Dean looked from their joined hands, and to the angel who was still admiring them, "Well...?"

"I wasn't ready to let go." Castiel answered, running his fingers lightly over Dean's hand.

A shiver went up Dean's arm and through his body from the way the angel was touching him. "I hope you're never ready to let go."

The corner of Cas' mouth turned up in a smile, his eyes moved over Dean's face before settling on his mouth. He leaned in then and kissed the hunter gently on his bottom lip.

Dean sighed happily, moving to return the gesture when Cas was suddenly focused on the game again.

"Maybe some day you can come with me to look at the bees?"

It wasn't quite sadness that Dean felt, but it's definitely wasn't happiness. He held his breath when he felt Cas rest his head on his shoulder. Slowly, Dean let it out and turned his attention to the game as well. Stiffly, he moved his head uncertainly until it came to rest against Cas'. He jerked initially, almost pulling away. But when Cas had settled closer to him, he found himself relaxing next to the angel. "Maybe."

It was nearly three rounds in before he realized Cas was still holding his hand, which was something that did give him hope.