A/N: So, I guess, long time, no see from my side. Sorry. Life happened. And I really tried! This chapter took me months to write. I am already halfway through the next chapter and I will try to finish it as soon as I can. No plans to abandon, promise. In the meantime, if you're enjoying this story, please take a moment to review. Every single comment matters. Thank you!

As usual, thank you to my lovelies, Naila and Allison for the beta and Sanjana and Ellen for the support.

9. Houston

Cas's phone rings while he is busy packing for his trip to Houston with Sam and Dean. They invited him along on the day after Sam's birthday, since Dean was especially concerned about Cas having to be alone over the weekend. After some worry and a lot of reluctance (for he would intruding upon what needed to be a private family event), Cas had finally agreed when Dean insisted for him to join them. So here he is, right now, packing for a trip with two men who've bonded more with him in a few weeks than most of his real family did in years and years, and so he is slightly nervous, if not annoyed, when he looks down and sees Gabe's name on his phone.

Cas takes the call. "I told you, I am not interested in talking to you," he says in a low voice, going over to peek at Dean puttering about in the living room. Cas watches him settle on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn, and his breath stutters a little when Dean winks at him, easy, smooth, and just a little flirtatious. Cas smiles back at him before shutting his door for some privacy.

"Well?" he demands of his brother. "Why are you not saying anything?"

"Listen." Gabe takes a deep breath on the other end of the line. Cas can hear the rustle of it, the whisper, as his brother gathers himself for whatever he wants to say. "Get out of that goddamned apartment. And that town, maybe, but mostly the apartment."

Cas narrows his eyes. "Why?"

"Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"Yes, because I am having trouble understanding why. What is wrong with the apartment?"

"You'll probably know. If you stay on. Which is why I don't want you to find out."

"I'm not going anywhere. Nor am I abandoning these people."

"Oh, come on," Gabe sighs, and Cas can see him roll his eyes. "You barely know them!"

"No, I know them better than I know you."

"Cassie, come on, kid," Gabe drawls, slightly pleading, and Cas's heart jumps.

"Don't call me that."

"Which part?"

"Both."

"You couldn't wait for it, could you? To be called Castiel? Of all the weird names out there…"

"That's what our mother named me."

Gabe snorts. "Dude, she was so high when that happened."

"It was one of the last things she said." Cas has a lump in his throat now, but he swallows it down as he sits on his bed, packing forgotten for a bit.

Gabe can't counter that. "Fine," he says, "but at least take me seriously. I'm not kidding. Not even a little bit. And you know that."

"Is this why you have been trying to call me ever since I moved in? To ask me to find another place?"

"Look, I just wanted to meet you for a few drinks so that I could tell you to get out of there. If you'd met me before you fell in love with those roommates of yours…"

"I'm not in love with anyone. They just mean a lot to me. They care more about me than you or Father ever did."

"Hoo boy, thank fuck you didn't include Amelia or Claire in that list of people who cared less. I was worried."

"You have no right to question my love or loyalty for anyone after what you pulled."

"And you were perfect, yes, you expect to be thumped on the back your whole life for it, do you?"

"No. I just believe you have no right to patronise me like this." Cas narrows his eyes, anger simmering inside him. "And what do you care anyway? Like I said, you rebelled and left long before you had to be there to watch me handle any of this."

"Oh puh-lease, you're not a saint, Cas."

"No. I made mistakes. But I also took responsibility for them."

"Like Claire?" Gabe's voice is teasing, chiding, and Cas clenches his fist. "Was that a mistake, too?"

"Don't," he warns. "Don't go there."

"How's she doing? All good in your broken little nuclear family?"

"Like you care," Cas snaps. "I am done with your pretense."

A beat. "I do care. Mostly about you, but I do."

"You're lying."

"Not when I'm saying I need you to leave that place." Gabe is back on that topic and Cas shuts his eyes, urging God to give him patience. "I should have said it on the phone when you actually picked up my call the last time."

"Do you think that would have made me move?"

"Well… you weren't in love with them!"

"I told you, I am not in love, and no, I wouldn't move. I don't have money."

"Shut up. You have loads of it."

"Father's money."

"Which you blow off on your daughter."

"I don't blow it off on her. I am making sure she gets a good education and a great life with that money. And yes, it's because I love Claire," Cas replies through gritted teeth. "Do you have anyone like that, Gabe? Who you would give everything for?"

Gabe sighs. "Don't get petty."

"I will, and screw you."

"Where did you learn that from? Which roommate?"

"Screw. You."

Gabe seems to give up at that. "Look. I should have said this earlier. If you'd listened to me, if you'd moved before, you wouldn't have spent those days at the hospital."

"What?!"

"Never mind. You should have heard me out."

Cas's heart is racing at the revelation. "It doesn't matter now," he says as calmly as he can. There is a pause and he goes over to his window, resting an elbow on the ledge as he looks out at the evening sky. He leans his forehead against the cool glass and shuts his eyes. "Do you know something?" he asks, at long last.

"Well, for starters, their mom—who is a doornail, by the way—was with the FBI."

"Dean told me about that," Cas replies. "She passed away six months ago. Don't talk so insensitively about a dead person."

"You're touchy for someone who sees people die every day."

Cas takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Was there anything else that you thought I didn't know about?"

"Oh, you bet there's stuff you didn't even think you didn't know about."

"Get to the point, Gabriel."

"Gabriel, huh?" His brother snorts. "Cassie's getting angry, I see. Aaaanyway. The big truth I'm about to reveal to you is…" He pauses, as if for dramatic effect, but Cas is drumming his fingers against the window ledge already.

"Go on," he prods his brother.

"Little brother, you'll be pleased to know that Special Agent Mary Winchester was actually undercover. Investigating the Demons."

Cas's breath catches in his throat at the very mention of the term. Demons. He'd held it together in the hospital as Dean watched the news, he'd avoided newspapers, and he had tried to block it out as much as he could. But now…

His stomach clenches as he goes back to sit on his mattress, sweat beading on his forehead. "Are you—who told you? Is this true?"

Gabe takes a bit to reply to that. "I don't know. I don't know if I'm even close to being correct. This is just… stuff I heard from some of my sources. Along with some other stuff."

"Then we should, perhaps, contact the police," says Cas.

"No, dude, you need to get out of there. And don't even ask me why. Now you know."

"My safety is not more important than that of others."

"Sure. Think of others first again, would you? Look. You might be Mommy's Little Angel but that doesn't change things," says Gabe, and Cas finds himself getting more and more annoyed by the moment. "Now get out of there."

"When you're not even sure if your information is correct? Call the police, and I will be convinced. And if you know more about this, then a whole lot of people apart from the three of us are in danger. I hope you realise that."

"Yeah," Gabe sighs, "I do—"

"Then call the police."

"I can't, okay? Not now," Gabe says to him. "But in case it's true…" He takes in another deep breath, "will you get out of there?"

Cas wants to say no to him but then he hears the defeat in his brother's voice and makes up his mind. He nods even though Gabe can't see him. "If what you're saying is correct, I will. But not without Sam and Dean by my side." He knows who the Demons are, but he also knows who his roommates are, and if this is what is endangering them, he will make sure they're as protected as he is.

Gabriel doesn't seem to share his opinion, though, as the call is disconnected, for the second time that they have spoken after all these years, without so much as a goodbye.

Cas puts his chores aside for a bit and joins Dean on the couch, thoughts running through his head and making his heart thump as he thinks about his recent conversation. Dean looks away from the Dr. Sexy episode and takes only a moment to notice Cas's distress.

In the next few minutes, Cas finds himself holding a steaming mug of tea.

As usual, they let the silence talk for them. Dean sits back on the couch, a grunt and a sigh telling Cas just how much his injuries still hurt him and if Cas leans into him just for a bit, shoulders and knees touching, breaths in sync as they celebrate their own little silence, neither of them speaks about it.

~o~

Jo groans as she shifts and cuddles into Charlie, adjusting the hot water bottle against her cramping abdomen. The day had begun stupidly enough with her period starting and making itself very known through those awful cramps, and now she's coming to realise that after today, she won't be seeing Charlie for a while. That just makes it all worse.

She groans again. "Why couldn't cis dudes get periods instead of us?"

They're marathoning Jessica Jones on Charlie's couch while Anna works her night shift, huddled together in a blanket and wrapped around each other as they both cheer Jessica on for kicking ass, except for the times when Jo needs to complain about her period. Charlie lets her do that, adding her own grouses to it.

"I'm glad they don't," Charlie replies, leaning against Jo. "They already whine too much for all the crap they don't have to suffer."

Jo snorts. "Point."

"So you're leaving for San Francisco in the morning?" Charlie murmurs into Jo's ear, fingers trailing absently through Jo's hair.

"Mom's doing better now, plus I have to get back to college sometime," says Jo. "You'll call me, right?"

"Are you done packing for it?"

"Yup," says Jo. She presses her lips together, ready to ask her question again, but Charlie's fingers are on her chin before her lips move to meet Jo's.

She pulls away and grins. "I'll FaceTime you, okay? Every night."

Jo grins back at her. "I would love that."

"I'm kinda gonna miss you," Charlie admits, voice suddenly low and morose.

"Me, too," says Jo, holding Charlie's gaze. "I'll be back soon. There's always FaceTime until then." She leans in for another kiss and lets Charlie start to undo her bra, trying not to think of how painful it's going to be when they have to separate.

~o~

They're not sure who started it.

One moment, Piccolo is making out with Dr. Sexy in the supply closet and Dean's snorting because he remembers doing that in high school with a lot of guys. It was fun—the groping, the desperation, and the thrill of doing it even with the real danger of getting caught, and he kinda misses it. Hell, he misses picking up dudes at bars, and his Grindr hook-ups and annoying Sammy with the gory details and most of all, the contact. Skin on skin, lips smashing together, hot breaths and the tingle of each and every touch, and he's missed it, missed it for so, so long that he's relaxed, even maybe relieved when Cas's lips meet with his.

Kissing Cas is like everything Dean ever imagined; his tongue running over the ridges of those full lips, slow and teasing, and Cas's teeth against his own mouth, dragging against sensitive skin. Cas smells like the hospital and sandalwood; tastes like tea and happiness, and Dean pulls him deeper, cupping the back of his head as he moves over to straddle Cas.

Cas doesn't protest. Instead, his hands run down Dean's back, firm, calloused palms touching sensitive skin, and the hands go over to undo Dean's belt and fly, pushing past his waistband, to his ass, gripping him tightly.

Dean is hard the next second, a gasp escaping him. He pulls Cas back into the kiss, letting their breaths and heartbeats mingle with each other as Dean takes the moment to grind once against Cas. Cas grunts in response and Dean pulls loose from the kiss to wander, nibbling and sucking on stubbled chin as he grinds against Cas again and again.

God, oh God, it feels so good. They're both out of breath and damp with sweat, rocking against each other as Cas's hands trace a path to Dean's front, riling him up, sending him into a frenzy, and—

"Dean?"

Dean's eyes fly open as he wakes up with a start. Cas is looking at him through the dim light cast from the TV, confused, and Dean realises there is a blanket wrapped around him, at the kindness of Cas it seems, and thank God for that because there is a furious boner tenting his pants right now.

He wipes away the drool sitting at the corner of the mouth and sits up carefully with the blanket as he avoids Cas's gaze. "Hey! I… uh… why did you let me sleep?"

"You seemed very tired," says Cas. "But then you started muttering something in your dreams, so…"

Dean coughs, feeling warmth creep up his cheeks. He tries to look at Cas, but it only makes everything worse because Cas seems concerned. "Were you having a nightmare?" he asks, affectionate and soft, and Dean feels like it would be better for everyone involved if he just melted off and flowed away into a drain.

Unfortunately, that doesn't happen.

Dean clears his throat, trying to find an explanation, but is saved from it when the doorbell rings. He thanks any and every god out there when Cas volunteers to get it, and Dean uses that moment of privacy to slink away to the bathroom. Just as he shuts the door behind him he hears Sam's voice and he decides that he owes his little brother everything for this save right now. He looks for the cling film in the vanity to drape around his cast because if he's here, he might as well just take a shower. And no. No. He does not want to entertain his boner right now.

Come to think of it, he should have realised it was all a dream because he was miraculously uninjured during his supposed make-out session with Cas.

Make-out session. God.

Cas's mouth comes back to him, an image in his head and the ghost of what it felt like on his lips and Dean decides, screw everything, because he can't take this anymore. When he gets into the shower to jerk off, the thought and memory of it alone has him coming with a small cry—the best he's had in years, and when he realises that, when he realises what his crush on his roommate is doing to him, he has to take a minute to lean against the wall to let the warm water drench him because dammit, he is so, so screwed.

~o~

The morning of the trip to Houston starts off weird with Dean acting cagey around Cas for no apparent reason, leaving both Sam and Cas extremely confused. Sam knows now that his brother has a thing for his roommate but he's not sure what happened between the time he left for college yesterday and this morning. He asked Cas about it, too, and Cas described a particularly uneventful evening in front of the TV with Dean, and promised that nothing happened. Dean had seemed fine through it all. And Sam is aware of that because even when he had come back from college, his brother had seemed okay, having emerged from a shower, packing all done, and coaxing Sam to get to bed soon.

So what went wrong?

He doesn't really have the energy to find an answer to that. As such, his heart has been pounding since the morning, hands shaking, stump hurting, and Sam doesn't really know how to deal with any of it. Dean didn't notice that today, which is really weird, but Sam's okay with that. He's not sure he wants to be fussed over or babied.

Presently, after a lot of excuse mes and silent cursing on Dean's part, Sam and Dean and Cas manage to find their seats in the aircraft. Dean's been grumbling the whole way about having to fly. Sam understands that he of all people shouldn't be pushing his brother to face his phobia right now, but they don't have time to drive to Houston. Cas even offered Dean a melatonin pill to get him to sleep through the journey but Dean awkwardly declined. Sam has Dean take the middle seat so Dean can be within reach of both him and Cas when he's not feeling too well or needs help. He doesn't tell Dean that, though, because Dean will roll his eyes and tease him.

"Fucking airplanes, man," Dean says, fastening his seatbelt and taking deep breaths. "I can't see why you couldn't take an extra day off college."

"Seriously, Dean?" Sam asks him, fishing for the catalogue in the seat pocket. "I took a whole five months off college, in case you didn't notice."

He realises the next second that it was rude to say that. It was not Dean's fault it happened—and he remembers that when his mind isn't playing tricks with him, but then he's blamed Dean one too many times for his trauma to let it pass like this.

"Sorry," Sam says.

Dean ignores that. "If we crash and die, I'm blaming you."

Sam snorts. "Sure."

"Planes crash, Sam!"

"Rarely," Sam says to him. "Would you just relax and take the melatonin from Cas so I can have a peaceful flight?"

Cas hears that. "Yes, they're in my carry-on, so—"

"I ain't taking no melanin," Dean snaps.

"Melatonin," Sam and Cas say at the same time, and Dean rolls his eyes.

"Great. Two nerds at once. Just what I needed for this damn trip."

"Really?" Sam asks him. "I see what you read, Dean, and the stuff you can do, so why do you act dumb like this?"

"So you don't get an inferiority complex," Dean tells him, but Sam notices the small smile on his brother's lips. He likes to remind Dean of his capabilities sometimes, remind him not to underestimate himself. Sam thinks it is unfair that their father's paranoia kept Dean away from college. He would have done so great.

"Just so you know," Dean says suddenly, and Sam almost jumps in his seat. "It was my decision not to go to college, okay? The classroom setting is not my style. So stop thinking whatever sappy crap you're thinking, stop hating on our poor dead dad, and enjoy your stupid airplane ride."

Sam scoffs and looks away, feeling Dean stiffen when the plane begins to taxi. He tries to ignore Cas's hand reaching for Dean's and Dean refusing it, but hesitantly letting his fingers touch Cas's. Sam tries not to grin when Cas's gesture calms Dean a little bit, but not without a vivid blush creeping up his cheeks, there to stay for the better part of the journey.

Sam's amusement and sense of ease is short lived, though. When the plane lands in Houston, he finds himself clenching up the same moment that he hears Dean's sigh of relief. And while he's glad for Dean's comfort, Sam isn't sure what he's supposed to feel at all. He hasn't been here in a long time. He hadn't attended their mother's funeral because he was in too much pain and too out of it to travel, and everything was just fucked up. After that he'd never felt ready to come back and Dean, somehow picking up on that, had never nudged him to do so. He's ready now—he knows he said that to Dean even the day after his birthday, but sometimes he wonders: is he really?

They get a cab to a motel, the journey quiet, and Dean's staring out of the window at the life he let go of for Sam. Cas is silent, too, picking up on the tension in the air, and Sam wonders if he regrets agreeing to accompany his fucked-up roommates on this trip. Because Sam knows. He knows one day Cas is going to get tired of them, tired of adjusting with him, because that's just how this is. Sam has a talent of scaring everyone away from him. And maybe then Dean won't talk to him because Dean is so fond of Cas; Sam can see it.

He wishes there was a way to know if Cas would reciprocate those feelings anytime in the future.

His thoughts are interrupted by Dean's voice. "You know, Clint said we could stay over at his place, but I said no. Nice of him, though."

Sam raises an eyebrow, turning to his brother. "Clint?"

"Yeah, he..." Dean's about to say something, but he pauses. "Oh. Right. He got transferred here after you left. I forgot."

Sam bites his lip, heart sinking at the things he had missed while he was away. He should have called. Should have written more letters, but...

"He's a friend of Mom's from the Bureau," says Dean. "I think they went on a couple of dates, too, but I guess it didn't really work out. They stayed friends, though."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Mom dated someone?" For some reason he can't imagine that. He was always in favor of his mother finding someone else after their dad died, but he'd never told her that, and the way she'd been about their father even after he passed away, Sam hadn't thought she'd been up to it.

He had, obviously, been very wrong about that.

He clears his throat. "How do you know they dated?"

Dean glances at Cas, who has been silent the whole while, before he replies. "She told me, dude."

"She never mentioned it to me," Sam tells Dean, his heart sinking some more. He rubs at his stubs. "I... I wrote to her."

"How many times?"

And Sam doesn't have a reply to that. Because the answer is, barely. The answer is that he never bothered to get involved. That he never cared enough.

But then, he did care. He was just so pissed. At all of them. He hadn't realised how much time he'd spent being… angry. And the more he thinks about it, his reasons for the silence feel weaker and weaker.

He didn't talk to his mother enough before she died suddenly and horribly, and that's the truth.

"Yeah," Dean mutters beside him, as if he just read Sam's mind. "That's what I thought."

The whole weekend just goes downhill from there.

~o~

When Cas's phone rings during lunch, he is a little surprised to see that it's Amelia. Sam and Dean have been quiet since their discussion in the car earlier today, and for a reason Cas cannot understand, Dean is not talking to him, either. So once they've all deposited their things in the motel rooms, lunch is awkward at best.

The restaurant they decide to eat at is called Morgan's Steakhouse. Apparently it was a Winchester family favourite, although the part of the family that favourited it probably did not include Sam, from the way he's eyeing his steak. As for Cas, he can practically feel the lard clog up his arteries as he chews on pork ribs. He is utterly disgusted, but for the sake of Dean and Dean's bad mood today, he keeps quiet about it.

That is precisely why he'd be lying if he said he wasn't relieved to have been able to step outside for a bit to talk to Amelia.

"Hey," he greets his ex-wife, putting the phone to his ear. "How are you?"

"I'm good, Cas," she says. "Not in town, are you?"

"No, I'm in Houston. I'll see Claire on Tuesday. I've spoken to Krista. Is that all right?"

"Yeah, I know you'd agreed on that… but listen."

"Yes?"

"Krista has to rush off to Italy tomorrow. Emergency with her brother-in-law."

Cas raises an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"He had a heart attack," Amelia sighs. "He's okay, it wasn't so bad and they got him to the hospital in time, but they're considering some invasive treatments, so…"

"So, Claire will have to stay with me," Cas concludes. Amelia is heading off to her annual three-month yoga retreat in Florida and every year, Cas has Claire stay at his place for that time period. This has been going on for years now—ever since he regained Amelia's trust. After everything. After Cas had pulled himself out of—

He stops thinking about it.

"Cas," Amelia prods him, breaking him out of his reverie. "It wouldn't be a problem, would it?"

"No, no, of course not," he replies. The three months every year that he spends with his daughter, uninterrupted by custody rules, are his three favourite months of the year. But there is a reason he had to request Amelia's sister to take care of Claire this time.

"It's just that," he continues, glancing at Sam and Dean while they eat, "I have got roommates now, Amelia. I…" He scratches his head. "I ran short of money this year, so I had to give up my place."

"I know," she says. "You've told me about it. I'd like to meet them once I'm back. But until then…" She pauses before continuing, "I was thinking you could move into my place."

Cas's heart jumps into his throat. "Are you sure?"

"Well, yeah. Of course. I mean, I trust you with my things and I trust you with Claire. You're an ex who's not horrible at all, so…" She laughs, brief and nervous, and Cas's stomach does a backflip, because they've come so far, so far with this and he honestly can't believe sometimes that he had lost hope of ever even partially reuniting with his family.

And just like that, he aches to see Amelia again. Aches to hold her in his arms and feel all that comfort and warmth and happiness he'd felt even when they were broke and struggling to raise a child in separate towns, married very young and parents even younger. When the worst years of their lives were also the best because they had each other and they had Claire and her little hands and feet and her bright, giggling laughter.

"Cas?" Amelia calls out softly to him and he presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry," he says, "tell me."

"There's nothing more—just, are you all right with this? You know once Krista comes back she can have Claire over if you want. If you're not comfortable with this arrangement, that is..."

"Yes. I…" Cas glances at his roommates again. "I don't think Sam and Dean will mind very much as long as I pay the rent. And I don't think I should back out on that since they're struggling as well. But yes, your idea is fair. It would be easier to keep Claire at your place, since mine cannot accommodate her."

"Great." Amelia sounds relieved. "I'm leaving the day you come back, once Claire's at school, so just pick her up and I think we're all set."

"I'll do that."

"Good. I'll see you later?"

"Sure, Amelia."

"Bye, Cas."

~o~

"So you're—you're just… leaving then, is that it?"

Dean's not sure why he feels so betrayed, but he does, and Cas's merry announcement that he's going to be at his ex's place, looking after his daughter for three months, is like an icing on the shitcake that is today.

"I'll be in touch, Dean," Cas tells him gently, as though Dean's a damn frightened animal. "You can visit, too."

Dean narrows his eyes, putting his knife and fork down, because he's suddenly not interested in his steak anymore. The meaty smell of the small restaurant that previously brought him joy and happy memories is serving to suffocate him today and he thinks he's going to be sick if they don't leave here soon.

He sighs. "You know what? You don't have to console me or anything. I'm not your damn ex. Or your kid."

"No, I never said—"

"Should we be looking for a new roommate?" Dean interrupts Cas. "Because Sammy and I are running out of money here." He glances at Sam, who's been relatively quiet during the course of the meal, and is currently picking at his abomination of a salad.

"I will contribute to the rent," Cas replies. "I understand your financial issues and I won't cause you a problem there."

"Sure, Richie Rich," Dean finds himself sneering. "You have so much sympathy for my family, don't you?"

"Dean, I—" Cas looks away, running his good hand down his face, and then turns back, eyes helpless and a little angry. "I don't understand what you want of me. You're angry with me today and I don't even remember saying anything at all since the morning, much less saying something that would upset you. I understand my leaving to be with Claire is a problem, but I offered you the best solution I could think of. If there is anything else…"

Dean stares at him, thinking of his damn dream last night and thinking of today and how shitty it is, and before he knows it, he's pushing his food away.

"I need some air," he says, and he's out of the restaurant before Sam or Cas can even react.

He doesn't have an explanation for how he feels that he can even give to himself, much less Cas. So he escapes, leaves to clear his head, and wonders how to stop all this, how to feel better about it all.

He's calling Jo before he knows it, and when her voice comes on—

"Hey, what's up?"

Dean lets out a breath. "I think I… I feel something for him, okay? And it's shitty. What do I do?"

She pauses. "He still straight?"

"Given no indication otherwise," replies Dean, and his voice cracks. Fuck. Fuck. What has he gotten himself into? "You got any advice?"

"Well," Jo tells him, "either you get lucky and he turns out to not be straight…"

"Or?"

"Or you're screwed, Winchester. Get yourself another hot date and forget Cas."

~o~

As Dean steps away to the other side of the road, he does not notice the window of a red Mustang roll down. A face peeks out and a phone takes pictures of him but it's all so discrete that he knows nothing at all.

In another place, not far away, Missouri Moseley lays down her tarot cards. She knows they're coming to see her, the people who lived in this house before, and they'll be here soon. And she's seen their pain and their warm hearts, even though she's never met them. So when she sees the cards her throat gets tight, but then there is warmth flooding all over her.

Three of swords, the lovers, five of cups, ten of swords, two of cups.

They suffer from loneliness and at least one of them desires love. They will unexpectedly face a lot of grief and there is much pain and suffering for them to endure, but then they will be united at the end of it all, and they will be a family.

They have a long way to go, but they're not alone anymore, and they're going to be fine.