Authors' Note: Hey guys. You may have noticed, but it's been a while. And we were doing so well too! But Cody was sick and I was lazy and we both had finals. Well, I still have finals. But we'll try to do better over break. Thank you for sticking with it (especially you new people who inexplicably started following it with no new chapter :P ), and we hope you enjoy!

PS, this chapter has some more self-harm, and most of the following chapters will as well. I cannot stress it enough, if this bothers you, don't read it!

Chapter 10
"Or could it be that the stranger is me? Have I changed so drastically?"
~Stranger in My House, Tamia

The change was immediate, but not as horrible as Castiel had feared. The bubbling font of Grace at the center of his being stilled, its inexorable press towards action fading to something more tolerable. And then, as though he were peering into a reflecting pool, images began to rise to the surface of the Grace, memories and impressions. The one thing that Castiel saw over and over, in so many different ways that were still the same, was Dean's face. The Dean in his mind's eye had deep worry lines in his forehead and delicate fans of laughter around his eyes. The hunter's face was tense and careworn, expression perpetually ready to tip into anger or fear, and yet…these glimpses were more Dean than the man who stood in front of Castiel now, with nothing but adoration and anxiety in his gaze. Castiel pulled away from Dean slightly, shaking his head.

"This isn't right," he murmured, bewildered blue eyes never leaving Dean's guileless green ones.

"What?" Dean said, hands fluttering nervously around Castiel's face, fingertips resting against his cheek briefly before moving away. "Are you hurt? If you're hurt we can fix it, Castiel; we can make it better, I promise, I'll do anything, anything."

"No, I'm not hurt, I just… aren't you angry with me, Dean?" Castiel knew that Dean should be, that he had done something reprehensible to this precious human of his, but he couldn't figure out what. The knowledge was there, on the edge of Castiel's awareness, and he fought to capture it.

Dean sighed in relief and hugged Castiel. "How could I be mad at you?" he said. The angel was safe.

Castiel saw Sam shift in the edge of his vision and looked at him, an almost childlike expression of confusion on his face. "Sam? Why is Dean like this?"

The angel's words sent a cold ripple of anxiety through Dean's body. Castiel was talking about Dean like he didn't exist, and fear gripped Dean tight. He didn't want that. He had expected that from Sam, but not from Castiel, Castiel would never. So Dean put his face in the crook of the angel's neck and waited for it to pass. For Castiel to pet his hair again, or to talk to him, or to hold him, or to do something instead of asking Sam questions about him.

Sam almost choked when Cas asked him what had happened to Dean. "You don't remember?" he demanded, fury constricting his throat so that he could barely get the words out. "Because no one seems to know anything that happened between Clem leaving you two alone and then coming back and finding you in the holy fire." Sam realized it was probably a bad idea to bring up that particular moment, but he didn't care. He had seen the look of terror on Dean's face when Castiel asked Sam about him, and that only made it worse. "So let me ask you, Cas. Why is Dean like this?"

"I punished him." Castiel's words were soft, almost an afterthought, a knee-jerk reaction to the question, but he realized they were the right answer. He would have said more but the way Dean was shaking against Castiel distracted him. The angel could sense the terror that filled him, but it was the wrong sort of terror. The thought made no sense and yet Castiel knew it was right. When Dean was scared, it shouldn't be like this, this intensely personal, childish dread; it should be fear mixed with planning, with conviction to overcome it. "Dean, it's all right; don't be afraid," he reassured the hunter, pulling back slightly from Dean to lay a gentle kiss on his cheek. And while Castiel felt that he shouldn't do that, shouldn't cater to whatever was wrong with Dean, he had to, because Dean was his and Castiel was going to protect him. "I've got you, Dean."

Dean quieted his tears to hiccups. Castiel was so kind to him. He clung to the angel desperately, fingers caught up in the back of his trench coat. But Castiel had spoken of the punishment, of what he'd done wrong, and he was ashamed. Ashamed that he had done such a thing, ashamed that Castiel saw fit to tell the others of his disloyalty. "I'm sorry I was bad," he mumbled. "I won't ever do it again. I was wrong, Castiel. Please forgive me, I'm sorry."

Sam saw red when Dean started begging Cas for forgiveness. It took every ounce of willpower he had to not pick up the blade at his feet and ram it home between the angel's shoulders. He reminded himself that he was doing this to help Dean, and that he needed Cas to have any chance of fixing his brother, and eventually he was calm enough to speak without screaming. "What the hell does that mean?" Sam gritted out, hands balling into fists at his sides. "Punished him for what, and how?"

Castiel stared blankly at the wall, Sam's words toppling around in his mind like dominoes, freeing more impressions of the early minutes of his rebirth into an angel. "I punished him for trapping me in the holy oil. For rebelling against me." Castiel spoke each word slowly and carefully, as though they were being dragged out of him. "How did I punish him? I—" Castiel stopped. There were no words to describe what he had done, but he tried so that Sam could see that it had been a perfectly reasonable rebuke. "Dean defied me and so I… reshaped him. Made him understand his place." Castiel's mouth was running without supervision now as his mind scrambled to deal with the emotions his words were causing within him. It was good, it had been the right thing to do. It was hideous, and he was unworthy of the trust Dean had placed in him. Castiel sighed in confusion and rested his cheek on Dean's shoulder. "Dean does not mind. He is devoted to me, and safe, and I will take care of him. It was for the best."

Castiel had ignored Dean and his silence only continued Dean's fear that he had not been forgiven. But he heard Castiel's words, heard them with agreement. That's right. This was better. Why would he mind? What was there to mind? Castiel had fixed him. He had been broken before, cynical and lonely and lost, and not even Cas had been able to make it better, not completely. But now, as long as he was with Castiel, everything would be right. Everything would be okay. He was safe, taken care of, treasured. "Thank you," he said, clearly now. Everyone went silent for a moment.

"That's just sick," Clem said, and the kids murmured their assent.

Castiel's eyes flashed angrily up at her. "This is not your concern," he hissed, tightening his arms around Dean and kissing the side of his neck without breaking eye contact with Clem. Dean made a tiny noise of pleasure and leaned into Castiel, and the angel smiled into Dean's skin.

"Cas... how could you think that was what Dean wanted?" Sam's voice was strained and disbelieving. "You messed with his head without permission. You—" Sam gazed helplessly at his brother, who was melting into Cas's arms. "Dean, come on man. Are you saying you want this? Over who you were?"

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion. Sam was distracting him from Castiel. He blinked over his shoulder at his brother, trying to understand what his brother was saying. "Why are you saying that?" he demanded of his brother. "You don't know what I want. I want Castiel. I want him happy. That's what matters." It did. It mattered more than Dean mattered. Dean was insignificant. He remembered that lesson. He was a speck. Castiel was everything. Sam's lack of understanding was beyond Dean's patience. "I don't understand why you don't want me to be happy, Sam. I didn't used to be happy, now I am." He choked out the last words a little bit, and it made him angry. They would think that he was lying if he sounded like that. "I am happy," he repeated, more forcefully.

Sam wanted to grab his brother and shake him until his brain snapped back into place from wherever the hell it was now. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Obviously Dean wasn't going to get out of this on his own. Which meant that before Dean could get better, they had to fix Cas.

"Okay." Sam sighed. He wasn't accepting Dean's words, not by a long shot, but he was acknowledging that he couldn't deal with them right now. "This is not an argument we're going to have. Cas, you've been wearing the hex bag for a few minutes now. Notice anything different?"

"Yes…" the angel replied hesitantly. "My Grace stopped growing in power. And my thoughts are more confused than they have been." He shifted, and if Sam didn't know better he would have said Cas was nervous.

Sam nodded. "Okay, that fits the theory that this is a spell. But… how did you even get hexed? And why do Clem and Dean just get dreams?"

"Is it—" Clem hesitated, but Sam nodded encouragingly and she continued uncertainty. "I mean, what if it's something for supernatural creatures? And cause Dean and I are human, it doesn't really work on us?"

"But why would whoever did this go after you in the first place?"

Keith frowned and crossed his arms. "Everything's been pretty screwy up here," he said, glancing at Dean. "Or at least, that's what Dean told us. All these monsters have been popping up out of nowhere and just devastating everything. He said they're more powerful than they should be, more numerous for such a tiny area. And Dean said…" He looked at Dean again, as if hoping that the hunter would continue, but Dean didn't even look at him. "Dean said that it seemed like it was spreading. More and more crazy powerful monsters over a larger and larger area. So maybe it's not targeted."

"What, like a virus?" Jenny demanded. "Is that even something that can happen?"

All the kids looked at Sam now, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know." It was frustrating that, after doing this literally his whole life, things like this could happen that would take same completely by surprise. "I know ghosts can do something like that, and there's the Croatoan virus that makes people crazy, but… I never heard of a spell that works like a disease." The thought of someone being able to do whatever this was to monsters made Sam shiver. Worse, it seemed like there was no control element. It just made the monsters crazy and then left them to wreak havoc.

"Croatoan?" Keith asked. "Like… Roanoke?"

"Yeah, pretty much. You really don't want get into that right now though, trust me."

"And this is definitely not the ghost thing or the Croatoan thing?" Jenny asked.

"Yeah, definitely," Sam said.

"So? What do we do about it?" Clem's voice was slightly desperate.

"Well, if he can and is willing, Cas could probably trace the magic and find out where the spell started." Sam glanced at Cas, who nodded slightly.

"I am capable of tracing magic, yes," the angel admitted, "but I would need a connection first. One of the nightmares to follow back to their source."

Clem crossed her arms across her chest. "Well, I'm not letting that guy watch my nightmares. He already snooped around in my head once, and he's damn well not doing it again. I don't trust him."

Dean bristled and glared at Clem because her tone was so painfully blasphemous. And it bothered him that Castiel might choose to enter someone else's mind, that he somehow might not be good enough for Castiel to use. Although he shouldn't mind if that was Castiel's will. Of course, if Castiel did choose the girl, Dean wouldn't have to have the dream again, the nightmare that rattled him so thoroughly. Dean's eyes flitted uncertainly from Castiel to Clem to Sam.

Castiel could feel Dean's apprehension, and he started rubbing Dean's back in soothing circles. "I would not wish to go into your mind anyway," he calmly informed the girl. "To enter someone's dreams can be very… intimate." His hand stilled on Dean's back for just a fraction of a second.

Sam's jaw tightened. "Well, it isn't going to be tonight," he growled, trying to keep his temper in check. "If Dean does agree to do this it's going to be quick, strictly business." His tone brooked no argument. Sam looked at his brother then, who was watching the proceedings nervously from the circle of Cas's arms. "Do you think you can do it Dean? If you can stand having the nightmare one more time, we can make it go away forever. Sound good?"

Dean froze slightly, but only for an instant, then the gentle motion of Castiel's hand on his back relaxed him. "Only if Castiel is with me the whole time," he said. "Next to me, Sam, I mean it." He was sure that Sam would want to keep Castiel as far from him as possible, and that wasn't acceptable. Not if he was going to go through that hell again.

Sam hesitated. He really, really did not want Cas even in the same room as Dean, much less in the same bed, which he figured was what Dean meant. Then he sighed. What did it matter anyway? The whole point of this was so that Cas could mess around in Dean's head again, which was a hell of a lot worse than anything physical the angel might try.

"Fine," he grumbled, hoping he wouldn't regret this later. "But I'm staying with you in case anything weird happens. And Cas, that hex bag stays on at all times, you hear me?" If the magic was getting into Cas through his Grace, it was doubly important to make sure the angel didn't get too pumped up.

Castiel's brow furrowed in irritation as Sam flat out ordered him to keep the spelled pouch on. He didn't like the way it confused him, bringing thoughts and memories to the surface that he didn't want or need. But at the same time he felt a vague sense of relief that Sam had stopped being outright threatening and started accepting that Castiel only wanted what was best for Dean, just like Sam did. After an approving glance down at Dean for his insistence that Castiel stay, the angel gave a single sharp nod. "Very well, Sam, I agree to your terms."

Sam dropped his eyes from Cas and headed for the door. "All right, don't go anywhere. I've got tea in my bag that will help Dean sleep." It occurred to him that leaving Dean and Cas together, even with the kids there, might not be the best idea. Before he could say anything else, though, Cas spoke up.

"That won't be necessary, Sam," Castiel replied. "I can easily put Dean to sleep myself. Now, in fact." The sooner they stopped Dean's nightmares and solved whatever Sam thought was wrong, the sooner Castiel and his hunter could be left in peace.

"Now?" Dean gasped. He knew he shouldn't argue, but he couldn't stop himself; the thought of the dream, especially after the reprieve of last night, was paralyzing. "Can't we wait?"

Ignoring the hunter's protest, Castiel led Dean over to the bed and pushed him down on it gently. "Don't worry, Dean. I will be right here with you the entire time," he assured Dean. "Now go to sleep, and dream." Castiel pressed his hand to Dean's cheek and his Grace to Dean's mind, forcing the hunter into the realms of sleep.

This was not okay. Dean wasn't ready, he wasn't even lying down, he was just sitting there and everyone was looking at him, the kids were looking at him and Sam was looking at him and Castiel was right there in front of him, staring with those still, blue eyes. He grasped at Castiel as the world started to swim, desperate for another moment, forcing his lethargic mouth to say, "No, please, I can't, I'm—" scared. Terrified. This was not what he wanted, he wanted more comfort than a few words, he couldn't stand this, but then the dream loomed over his consciousness again and he sank into it, frantically trying to pull himself out. It was hopeless, though; the compulsion to sleep was too strong, and he was overwhelmed.

Sam bit the inside of his cheek as he watched Dean fall asleep sitting up, in the middle of a terrified plea, just because Cas had told him to. It was so wrong the Cas should have that kind of power over Dean, that he should use it so casually as if he were entitled to do anything he wanted to with Dean. The angel lowered Dean gently to the bed and looked up at Sam with curious eyes. "You seem angered," he commented.

"Yeah, no shit!" Sam wanted to yell. "You're mojo-ing my brother left and right like he's just a thing that belongs to you, not a person. And you did something to him that makes him think that's totally fine!" But he couldn't, so he just answered very quietly, "I'm worried about Dean. And you," he added after a moment. "Can you track the magic or not?"

Castiel turned away from Sam, pushing the younger Winchester's strange behavior from his mind as he felt Dean's nightmare beginning. The important part was maintaining dream contact for long enough for Castiel's Grace to search out the foreign influence and follow it back. If he tried to change the dream in any way the link might break, so Castiel just hung back and watched his dream-self work. There was still a large part of him that was fascinated by the dream, that wanted to take Dean away and keep him forever, but there was also a small but growing insistence that Dean should never have to face the events of his nightmare.

Castiel's search uncovered the source of the magic and instantly swept Dean back to wakefulness, snatching him from the dream just as Sam arrived to confront the vengeful nightmare-angel about his brother. Castiel felt a brief burst of gratitude that events had not turned out that way, then turned his attention to Dean.

Dean didn't sit up when he awoke, he just drew his legs up onto the bed with him and curled into a ball, positioning his back to the others and trying to keep his sobs invisible. Something pricked at his cheek: a shard of glass from when Castiel had broken the window. Before anyone could stop him, he seized it, feeling the edges slip against his fingers before he got a better grip on it and dug it into his arm, the breaking of skin a comfort. He kept going as quickly as possible, not letting himself savor the clarity from each cut before starting a new one. Castiel had promised he'd stay with Dean. Promised he'd be right next to him the whole time. But he hadn't been, not in a way that Dean could hold onto. Not in the dream, not even in reality because there was so much space between them and Dean couldn't deal with space, he needed contact. And the dream had been so horrible, so familiarly horrible in a way that he couldn't pinpoint anymore, even as it sat deep in his stomach like poison.

The glass bit into his wrist again, slippery with blood, harder to hold onto. The only relief was that he didn't need to witness Sam and Castiel fight in the dream again this time, didn't need to grope in the darkness for them to keep them from killing each other and listen to the thick sounds of fighting in his ears, not knowing what was happening and losing two people at once.

"Dean?" Castiel's voice was inquisitive as the hunter curled in on himself and pulled away from him. "What's wrong?" The metallic scent of blood filled the air and Castiel's tone sharpened. "Stop that, Dean," he ordered, reaching over Dean to tug his hands apart, once more sealing the broken flesh with a whim. The angel continued to tug the hunter around until he was facing Sam and Castiel once more. "It's all right, Dean; I am here."

It was amazing how in an instant all of Dean's efforts at clarity, at control, could be wiped off his wrists as if they never existed. He longed to carve them back, to feel that pain again, but Castiel had ordered him not to and so he could not. "I was looking for you, but I couldn't find you," he sobbed. "Where were you?" Part way through the dream he had forgotten that a reality existed other than his nightmare.

"I was right here, Dean," Castiel explained calmly. In the background he could hear Sam ordering the others out, telling them to 'go make breakfast or something' and slamming the door behind them, but Castiel kept his attention focused on Dean and Dean alone. "I could not interfere with the substance of your dream without disrupting the magic that caused it." Castiel bundled Dean into his lap, noticing the chill on the hunter's skin as he did so. The broken window. Castiel reformed the glass with a glance, creating a fresh pane clear of enochian markings.

Dean quieted and leaned into the angel, letting the angel's warmth help to comfort his shaking. He didn't know what to do with his hands because he wasn't allowed to harm his wrists, but Castiel had him close and so it didn't matter. He craned his neck to kiss Castiel's jawline. The piece of glass was palmed into his pocket, and he hoped no one noticed. If Castiel told him to throw it out, Dean would have to, but he didn't want to lose his only link to clarity.

Castiel hummed contentedly and slid his hands down Dean's arms to his wrists, rubbing his thumbs gently across the sensitive skin on the undersides. If sensation was what Dean wanted, he could give it to him without letting his hunter come to harm. "I hope you understand why I could not be with you." Castiel's voice was rough as Dean kissed his face and neck.

The feel of Castiel's thumbs moving kindly against Dean's wrists sent little shivers through him because the feeling was so different than the piercing of glass only a moment ago. He wanted that touch, ached for it all over his body and he continued his kisses, pausing only to murmur, "Yes, I'm sorry," before nuzzling against Castiel's neck and relaxing his kisses into a softer pattern, lips parted slightly and eyes closed.

Sam turned back from herding the kids out to see his brother in Cas's lap. As Sam watched, Dean started to kiss up Cas's neck in a tender, worshipful way that was more than a little disturbing. The angel practically purred in response and started caressing Dean's arms.

Oh no. Oh hell no, this was not going to happen.

"Knock it off Cas! What part of 'no intimacy' did you have trouble with?" Sam was trying to stay calm, but his mind just kept screaming at him that he could not let this happen, because neither of them were in their right minds right now and if he let it go on it would ruin any chance of recovery for Dean and Cas's relationship after all this. If there even was still a chance.

Castiel managed to tear his gaze away from Dean long enough to see Sam approaching, looking downright murderous. "That was in the dream," he felt obliged to point out, although he was finding it very difficult to focus because Dean was sucking on his collarbone and pressing into Castiel like he wanted to melt into him. "Besides, I am giving Dean an alternative to hurting himself. He needs this right now, Sam."

"No, what he needs is food, because I don't think he's eaten since you flew in." Had it only been yesterday? It felt like weeks. Sam was at the bedside now, staring down at Castiel with a mixture of malice and pleading. "Just sit with him all right? Hold his hand or something." Anything, really, short of messing Dean up any further. And honestly, at this point, they would be damn lucky if all Cas did was hold Dean's hand. Sam switched his attention to his brother, who had been totally oblivious to the whole conversation. "Hey, Dean," Sam called, resting a tentative hand on his shoulder. "You can get back to this later," never, "but right now you've gotta get some food in you, okay?"

Dean confusedly drew his lips away from Castiel and stared at Sam. "Huh? No, I'm not hungry, Sam," he said, then went back to his kisses. It felt a little strange, though, because Sam's hand was still on his shoulder, so he tried his best to shrug it off but Sam's hand didn't budge.

"Wrong answer, bud." Sam replied, pulling on Dean's shoulder until his brother looked up at him again. "You've gone almost 30 hours without food, assuming you actually ate breakfast when Cas got sick and didn't just chug a bottle of whiskey. If you're not hungry it's because you've moved past that into famished." Sam threw a despairing look at Cas, whose eyes were slitted and suspicious. He refused to let on how much that look scared him. "Look man, he needs to eat unless you want him collapsing."

Castiel continued to stare at Sam. His reasoning was sound, but the angel still felt as though something were off. "I can restore Dean's body if it fails." Even as he spoke, though, Castiel gave a resigned sigh. Sound reasoning or not, Sam didn't seem to be planning on backing down anytime soon. He toyed with the idea of smiting Sam, or perhaps just trapping him somewhere far away, but the larger portion of him knew the hunter was right, so he turned his head to rest his face against Dean. "Later," he promised the needy hunter. "We will finish this later."

Dean's stomach turned at the thought of eating, of having space between him and Castiel again, and he didn't get up, just stayed there, clinging. "But I don't want to eat. I want to be with you, Castiel, please." Castiel had stopped moving his hands on Dean's wrists and it bothered him in a way that he couldn't explain. It made him want to tug the sleeves of Sam's flannel down and hide them and their unmarred skin.

"You can be with him. He'll stay right next to you okay?" Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder reassuringly. "But it's not good for you to not eat for so long. Come on Dean, please?" Sam wheedled.

"It's all right, Dean." Castiel resumed softly rubbing Dean's wrists. The uncertainty brought on by the hexbag was still there, and strong, and Castiel didn't know what he wanted anymore. Part of him was desperate to have Dean again, to claim him and mark him, but part of him was alarmed by Dean's behavior and frantically trying to figure out why the hunter was acting so differently from how Castiel remembered him.

"I really don't want any food, Sam," Dean said, but he let his brother tug him to his feet. He didn't want Castiel to stop rubbing his wrists, though, and he made a soft sound of distress when his arms pulled away from Castiel's hands.

Castiel stood quickly as Sam pulled Dean away. He caught one of the hunter's hands in his own and continued to caress the soft skin of his wrist as Dean grudgingly followed Sam into the kitchen area, where the others were all sitting around the table. The children all watched him with solemn, nervous eyes as they entered, and Castiel gave them an unreadable stare in return. Sam planted Dean at the table and Castiel stood behind him resting his hands on Dean's shoulders to free the hunter's hands. When Sam placed a bowl of cereal in front of Dean, the angel squeezed Dean's shoulders gently. "Eat, Dean."

"What, no pie?" Dean asked his brother, trying to smile a little bit. Cereal. And there wasn't even a splash of milk in the damn bowl. Not that that would have made a difference.

Sam couldn't help the smile that spread slowly across his face when Dean complained about there not being any pie. He never thought he'd be happier to hear his brother whining about food.

"You know, we tried to feed him," Jenny suddenly said to Sam, crossing her arms. "We weren't going to let him starve, but he wouldn't eat anything."

Apparently she had been eavesdropping enough to hear that Sam didn't think Dean had eaten anything. Dean sighed. The kids had a bad habit of listening at doors. He didn't really care though, just poked at the cereal with a plastic spoon.

Because Castiel had told him too, Dean took one spoonful of the dry cereal and put it in his mouth, chewed it to dust that stuck to his tongue, and swallowed. Then he put the spoon down and fiddled with the edge of his sleeve.

"Eavesdropping? Really?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised.

"Well what else are we supposed to do?" Jenny snapped. "We came here and locked ourselves in so that he wouldn't find us and kill us all." She jerked a finger at Cas, who was watching the exchange warily, fingers still curled over Dean's shoulders. "And then Dean let him in anyway but apparently all he wants to do is bang him, so I guess we're safe for now. But this was so not what I signed up for!" Sam glanced at the others and saw similar emotions reflected in their eyes. He gave a heavy sigh.

"Look, I know you didn't want to get all mixed up in this—"

"Damn straight!" Andy interrupted, and Sam glared at him.

"—and I'm sorry you did. But look, I'm here to take care of Dean now, so if you want to leave, you can." All four of them blinked back at him in surprise. "I mean it. Get back in whoever's car you came in and head back to school. Forget this happened. Come back in a few days and it'll all be gone." Sam's eyes drifted to the scarlet paint decorating the walls. "Well, mostly gone."

"We can't just leave!" Clem protested, and Sam fixed her with a flat, unwavering gaze.

"Why not?" he challenged. "This is what hunting's like, boys and girls, and it's not Buffy or some stupid ghost hunting show, it's not being prepared for everything and winning all the fights. A lot of the time it's being scared and confused and hurt and having no idea what to do next. And it's not for everyone. Clear out now before you really get hurt." On the last word Sam's eyes slid over to Dean almost of their own volition, and he sighed again. Damn. He hadn't meant to give the kids a lecture, really.

"They know that, Sam," Dean said as he tried to figure out where he could dump the cereal without anyone noticing that he hadn't eaten more than his first spoonful. "They don't need to hear you say it, so give it a rest." He sighed. "Besides, you need help. Can't go hunting a witch when you want to babysit me all the time."

"Well maybe if you didn't need babysitting," Sam retorted, something inside him loosening up as he turned to see Dean hastily replace the cereal bowl on the table after an unsuccessful attempt to surreptitiously empty the dry flakes on the floor. "Smooth." He observed sarcastically, unable to keep the small grin from his face.

"I don't need babysitting," Dean said, kicking the cereal lightly with his foot so it wasn't in a pile even though everyone had seen him dump it there. He wasn't even embarrassed, he just hoped they wouldn't make him eat more. He felt kind of queasy.

Castiel watched Dean and Sam banter and felt something warm inside his chest. This was how it was supposed to be for the brothers. And yet… a fierce spike of jealousy coiled in him. Dean was paying attention to Sam, to the children, to people who weren't Castiel. And that was not acceptable. The angel's hands tightened on Dean's shoulders, reminding the hunter of his presence. Almost instantly Castiel loosened his grip, guilt swirling through him. If Dean was happy, Castiel should not begrudge him that. The angel closed his eyes to hide his confusion.

When Castiel's hands clamped on his shoulders, Dean started slightly, looking up at the angel, who lessened his hold on him. Not quickly enough to stop the instant shame that grew hot in his stomach. He should be talking to Castiel, not Sam. He put a hand over the angel's in apology and then held completely still.

Sam cringed inwardly as he watched Cas reclaim Dean's attention with nothing but a squeeze of his hands. Cas had been so compliant that Sam thought he was going to give Dean a break, relatively speaking, but apparently that wasn't the case. Sure, the hex bag seemed to be helping him, which Sam was infinitely grateful for since he had only been guessing that it would work that way. But the angel was still dangerous and still bad for Dean, and Sam had stupidly let himself forget that because of one reasonable exchange.

"So," Sam said, probably too loudly, but he didn't like the way Dean had stilled under Cas's hands like a dog expecting a treat. "Cas, you said you knew where this magic was coming from, didn't you? Can you take me there?" His attempt to distract the angel worked, and Cas opened his eyes and blinked owlishly at Sam.

Castiel was starting to feel ill as the different urges and impulses inside of him clashed against each other. Dean's gentle touch on his hand didn't help, as it raised a whole new mess of emotions, ranging from pleasure to fear and back again. Sam's words jolted him from his introspection and he looked up to see the younger Winchester leaned against the counter, studying Castiel with narrow eyes. It took Castiel a moment to follow the question, and another to think of the answer.

"Yes, I know the location of the source of the spell. But I do not wish to leave Dean's side." That was one thing his whole mind agreed on. He turned his hand in Dean's and began rubbing the hunter's wrist again comfortingly.

The contact to his wrist was soothing, and Dean relaxed in his chair, closing his eyes and feeling the little tremors in his nerves from Castiel's fingers moving over his delicate skin, pressing against tendon and blood vessel. His nausea and nervousness lessened. "I can come too," he said. "I can help." He flicked his eyes back open to look at his brother.

"I don't know if that's a good idea…" Sam shook his head. "If there's a fight, are you gonna be able to defend yourself? You haven't been, um, up to your usual standards."

"I will protect Dean." Castiel's voice held a faint anger that reminded Sam of the distant thunderstorms he'd encountered while driving through the open spaces in the Midwest. They seemed a safe enough distance away, and the next minute you were pulled over at the side of the road as it washed away under the deluge and praying lightning didn't hit your car. Cas wasn't threatening Sam yet, but that could change so easily.

"Fine," Sam sighed, raising his hands in surrender.

"And what are we supposed to do?" Jenny asked. "Should we come with you?" She didn't sound thrilled by the prospect, but she kept her head high and eyes focused unblinkingly on Sam.

The hunter thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No, it'll be too many people. And we don't know what this is, and I'm not taking a bunch of half-trained kids into something this potentially dangerous. No offense." Jenny shrugged. "Besides, I think we'll be traveling angel airlines, and that can be disorienting for new people." He smiled briefly at the others, trying to reassure them. "But can you guys stay here and clean up the place? We probably won't be squatting here much longer." And they didn't need the angel-proofing anymore, not now that Cas was already inside.

Castiel was glad Sam had refused the children, because he certainly would not have consented to cart them all around with him. Now he squeezed Dean's hand lightly and stepped back so his hunter could push out his chair and stand. "If you are ready, we can leave now," Castiel informed Sam, leading Dean around the table to where his brother leaned on the counter. "I would rather free Dean from these dreams as soon as possible." After all, Dean's nightmares made him fear Castiel, and the angel didn't want that; all of his fragmented memories from before regaining his Grace convinced him that Dean shouldn't be afraid. And since it seemed as though the dreams could only be completely banished by destroying the source, Sam and Castiel had a common goal.

"Wait," said Dean. "I haven't got any weapons or anything." He tried to think of what he might need, but he couldn't really remember. He didn't really know what they were facing, even. A witch? Right. Things to know about witches: they sucked. Black magic? Long lives sometimes? Powers from demons? He sighed because it was all so hazy. He wanted to hurt his wrist again for a moment of clarity, but Castiel was still holding his hand. And Castiel had told him not to. "Sam, could you," he started, wavered, hoping Sam wouldn't notice that he wasn't really sure what he was doing, "get the stuff together?"

Sam blinked in surprise, then relief. Dean was thinking at least, more than Sam at any rate. He had to focus or they were going to end up in serious trouble. "Yeah, my bag is by the front door. Come on."

"Wait!" At the sound of her voice, Sam turned to Clem, who was standing with her arms crossed defiantly across her chest. "I want to come. Whatever this is it's in my head too, and I want to help get rid of it." Sam hesitated, but it was Cas who spoke first.

"I do not wish for you to accompany us." Castiel's voice was flat and hard. He would tolerate the girl's presence, for Dean, but he did not want her with them, and he did not want to waste the Grace it would take to carry her. Although it was tempting to pretend she slipped out of his hold mid-flight… Sam's voice interrupted the angel's thoughts, and Castiel looked up to see Sam watching him.

"Cas, come on, she has a point. This is her problem too." Sam's neck prickled uneasily as he watched Cas's face, wondering what the angel was thinking. He still hadn't let go of Dean's hand. "Please, Cas."

Castiel tilted his head at the word 'please' and studied Sam. It was unlike the hunter to ask Castiel for anything, and he felt a rush of satisfaction that Sam was acknowledging Castiel's power in this situation. And after all, if he brought the girl and she proved to be trouble, he could always remove her later. "Very well," he finally replied, allowing Sam to brush past him and lead Dean to the front room. The girl followed behind.

Dean paused when he saw the bag. It wasn't his, but it was clearly full of stuff for hunters and was vaguely familiar. Sam's bag. But Sam wasn't supposed to have a bag full of hunting things, he remembered. "Where did you get all this stuff?" he asked slowly. His hand shook slightly in Castiel's. Dammit. Sam had been out except apparently not, apparently he'd just lied. Sam didn't trust him. And it hurt, deep in his chest, visceral and physical, making his muscles tense. He didn't like the way it hurt him, and he felt a swell of anger that he didn't quite understand. He could remember getting angry before, he thought. Yelling at Sam for things. But he'd been so desperate to please his brother, and Castiel, that the emotion felt almost strange.

"Yeah, well. No sense in throwing out perfectly good supplies, right?" Sam watched his brother's face carefully. Crap, he had forgotten that Dean was lucid enough to care about this now. "Can we talk about it once this is all over?"

Castiel could feel Dean trembling, and he raised his other hand to press between his hunter's shoulders comfortingly. He was angry with Sam for upsetting Dean, even if he wasn't entirely sure why Dean was unhappy. The angel sent a soft wave of comforting Grace through Dean, easing the tension from his muscles. Castiel was here now, so Dean's mind need not be troubled.

"No, Sam, we can't… I…" Dean tried to yell, to somehow transmit his internal fury and confusion into something Sam would recognize, but suddenly he couldn't find the words. Dean's train of thought faded, the hurt in his chest lessened, and he relaxed, feeling Castiel's hand comforting between his shoulder blades. He was happy, calm, comfortable, and when Castiel removed his hand from his back, he snuggled up against the angel and closed his eyes. A moment later he heard Sam start rummaging in the bag, but he didn't remember why he had been upset before.

Sam saw Cas put his free hand on Dean's back, watched his brother relax, and bit his tongue to keep from yelling at Cas. It was okay for Dean to be angry! Sam almost wanted his brother be annoyed, or frustrated, or pissed off. Anything to keep Dean from falling back into that mindless worshipfulness that Cas had forced on him.

"Here." Sam stood up and roughly shoved a gun at his brother, ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach as Dean curled into Cas, all his anger forgotten. He pulled another handgun out of the bag, glared at Cas, and shook his head. "Not like you'd even need one. Here, Clem. You know how to use it? It's just got regular bullets. There isn't much special that you can do about witches."

"Yeah, Dean taught me," was her quiet reply. She looked just as uncomfortable as Sam about Cas's treatment of Dean, which made Sam feel a little better. At least he had another sensible person on his side if things went bad.

"Okay, remember, we're going in to look not touch, all right? I don't want to start any fights unless there's no other choice. And Clem, you've never been flown anywhere before, so this might be uncomfortable. Dean always gets sick." Sam walked over and stood next to the younger girl, taking her free hand and squeezing it reassuringly. She looked up at him with scared, determined eyes and nodded once. Sam turned to the angel and took a deep breath. "Ready when you are, Cas."

Castiel wordlessly wrapped one arm tighter around Dean and reached out to place two fingers on Sam's forehead. Careful to include the girl as well, because losing her might upset Sam and by extension Dean, Castiel launched their little group into the space between, instantly transporting them to the origin point of the dreams.