A/N: This is the longest chapter that I have written so far. However, I will try to extend the length of other chapters to be just like this. Enjoy!

Dean couldn't stand this goddamn place.

At first, the whole idea of a changeable universe excited him. He could have had anything he wanted if he willed hard enough to make it materialize right in front of him. Hell, he could have even been able to go places he had never dreamed of. Las Vegas, Hollywood, Detroit, even fucking Russia; he could have gone to them all.

But that was all in his daydreams. Before Valois died and Cas got the Skulletra mojo in lieu of him.

Now, just sits around Bobby's house the entire time, drinking beer that Cas imagined in there and watching old movies since they don't get freaking cable or Internet in alternate dimensions. That's all the angel apparently wanted, was to just sit around and do nothing. Dean was livid. If he was gonna have to spend an eternity in Bobby's house, he was going to lose his goddamn mind. Sure, it was comfortable living, but it was boring. He cracked open another beer and took a long swig, placing his feet on the coffee table and mentally bitching about everything wrong with this world.

Castiel sat comfortably on the couch, opposite of Dean, staring at the metal box that flashed images across it and spoke from an unidentified source. Dean called this a "T.V", he remembered. It was so interesting to watch these strange humans hold each other up on the boat and then flee it after it hit an iceberg. Why didn't Rose assist Jack onto the door? There was clearly enough space for the both of them, and they could have prayed to the angels to help them as well in their predicament. Now that he thought about it, he had been there at the Titanic; where were these people? He didn't recognize them. After the list of many names he didn't recognize start to fly across the screen, he turned to Dean.

"May we watch it again, Dean?" Castiel asked. He needed to figure out where he was in this "movie". Dean slammed his beer on the table and stood up angrily, facing the confused angel.

"For fuck sake, Cas, we have watched The Titanic five goddamn times!" Dean shouted. "I am not sitting through this chick flick crap again!" Castiel tilted his head, perplexed. He knew Dean was angry; Castiel could hear it in the increase in the decibel level of the hunter's voice. But why was he angry?

"Dean, I was there at the Titanic when it happened, and I never once saw these Jack or Rose humans that the cameras constantly focus on, or even myself."

Dean rubbed his temple with his thumbs and furrowed his brow. Holy. Shit. Is this angel freaking retarded? "Cas, the whole love story bullshit is fake. Jack and Rose never existed. This was all for the movie."

Castiel turned his head back to the screen and watched the credits roll. He understood now why he never saw Jack and Rose or himself in the moving pictures. All he could say was "Oh" as he scanned the remote for the off button, pressing it once he located its presence. It seems now that Dean was angry because of the amount of times they sat there together and watched it. Castiel never wanted to watch it alone; though it was interesting, he never trusted the "T.V." He thought it would open up and a demon would crawl through it and kill him in his weakened human state, like in the movie that Dean showed him before. He couldn't remember what it was called; it just scared him.

"Cas, can't we do something different?" Dean suggested. "Like, I don't know, change of scenery? Who knows how long we've been in this place, I'm getting kinda sick of the area." It was true: he had no idea how long ago it was when Valois brought them there. Despite Cas being able to change the world around them, the sky always still remained a deep violet, and all of the clocks in Bobby's house froze at midnight, regardless of how much time went by. They didn't know how many days they had been here or even if it was day or night in the real world. It was like being trapped in a windowless room with everything in existence to do for fun. Dean felt like he really needed to go to a bar.

Castiel paused before turning his head away, shamed. "I can't, Dean," he finally said slowly. Dean bore holes into the angel with his stare, his eyebrows raised higher than he thought was possible.

"You what?!" Dean snapped. "You have all this fucking magic power at your disposal and can make anything come into existence, but I request a change of scenery and you just can't?!" The last word spat out like venom. Castiel slowly nodded his head and lifted up his right hand, showing Dean the rib cage tattoo.

Or at least, where it would have been.

"The mark is gone, Dean. I can only seem to use it once." Castiel stood up from his place on the couch and walked over to the window. He peered through it out into the salvaging yard. Everything looked so familiarly dull, except for the crimson aura drifting lazily in the distance. It seemed that the Cupid's Lament had followed them here after altering this world.

Dean couldn't believe the words that the angel just threw at him. He couldn't change anything anymore? They were stuck like this? He turned to walk towards the bedroom. He just wanted to fucking sleep, and maybe when he woke up he would be back home with Sammy and Bobby and everything would be perfectly fine.

"Dean, you—" Dean heard Castiel try to call him, but he interrupted him harshly.

"Shut it, Cas. I don't care. I just want to sleep and hopefully I'll wake up and this will all just be some fucked up nightmare."

"Dean."

The hunter froze. Angel-of-the-Lord voice.

"I was trying to tell you, Dean, that the mark is on the back of your neck."

Dean whirled around and stared into blue eyes, incredulous. "Come again?"

"I was trying to tell you," Castiel repeated, taking steps towards the green-eyed man, "that the mark is on the back of your neck."

Dean's jaw dropped for a second before turning around and bolting to the bathroom. He looked for the old hand mirror that Bobby kept in his cupboard (a memento to his late wife). Upon finding it, he held it up behind him and angled it so that he could see it in the large mirror on the wall above the sink.

And there it was. A midnight black spinal column with violet protruding ribs, located directly under his hairline. He smiled instantly. Oh, he was ecstatic. He was finally able to change this freaking place and not have to deal with it anymore. He could get out of the house and not have to worry about hitting some magic wall on the way out (Dean had tried multiple times to leave the area, but once he got to a certain point, he was teleported back to the other end, just like in the field they began at). He re-entered the living room where Castiel was patiently standing, waiting for what Dean was going to say.

"Fuck this joint," Dean said, a smile grazing his face. He waved his hand, mimicking the time when Castiel changed the world, using a slow and graceful motion. He felt like a ballerina while doing it, and he scowled silently at himself. Great, now in order to make everything how he wanted it, he had to be a little girl to do so. But, he also went and cuddled Cas. He couldn't really complain.

Then again, he wasn't sure why he went to snuggle with the angel in the first place.

Around them, the walls of the house fell into a dematerialized state, each splinter of each piece of furniture giving way to the new, fresh environment. Dean sniffed the air and sighed happily, Ah, the smell of booze. He had been wanting to lose himself in a bar since they arrived in this damn universe, and now, he can finally have his wish. He turned to Castiel with a huge smile beaming along his lips, but that smile instantly faded away when he saw the discomfort in the angel's bright blue eyes.

"Hey, Cas, you okay?"

"Dean…" Castiel's voice was barely above a whisper, low and gruff. Dean almost liked it.

"What?"

"I don't like this world."

Dean laughed sarcastically. "Well why not? We have whatever we want here."

"No, Dean," Castiel commented, "YOU have everything here. And a little visitor at that." The angel pointed his finger somewhere behind Dean. The hunter followed it and noticed something sitting on a table across the bar.

"Sonofabitch," Dean said out loud.

That fucking flower was sitting there, in a little flower pot. Dean wanted to smash it into the wall and rip that goddamn plant to shreds, but he knew that it would just come back with another one next to it… probably in his drink. He had no idea where those things were capable of growing, and he didn't want to find out. All he knew is that whenever that thing spat out its little blood pollen, it surfaced feelings inside of Dean that he really didn't want to worry about at the moment. He had his own problems right now that he needed to deal with, and this was not one of them. He dismissed it for now, though. He wanted to get hammered.

"Whatever, dude, I'm getting plastered," Dean called over his shoulder as he went to sit at the bar. "You coming dude?"

Castiel stood perfectly still. He didn't want to drink. To be honest with himself, he was afraid to drink. He was human now, and he knew enough from talking to Dean that people who don't drink normally got drunk faster. Nonetheless, this was Dean, and as much as Castiel wanted to refuse, he felt obligated to have a few drinks with the hunter. He slowly made his way over to the bar and sat on the stool next to Dean, refusing to look at him.

Dean stared at Castiel, wondering why he was acting so weird. It's not the first time Cas had gotten drunk, if he remembered. The dude slammed an entire liquor store before; this shouldn't be a problem. Then he remembered that Cas was human now, and he didn't have the tolerance like he had when his angel mojo still existed. He tapped his hand on the bar counter, signaling for the bartender to serve them.

However, no one came. Dean slammed his hand again. Still, no one came. He was about to do it again when Castiel grabbed his wrist to stop him. Dean looked up at the angel and saw a look in his eyes that screamed "You are an idiot".

"Dean," Castiel began, seemingly annoyed, "do you remember what Valois said?"

Dean furrowed his brow to rack his brain of any memories. "Uh… no."

"No matter how hard we try, we cannot bring other people into our world. We will have to serve ourselves."

Dean lightly palmed himself in the forehead. Of course, he forgot one of the only two rules that were actually stated in the beginning, not including the hidden rules such as "You two will take turns changing shit around", "The sky will always be purple", and "That fucking flower will be everywhere". How he didn't notice it before they sat down though was a miracle. The entire bar was empty; there were no customers either, besides Dean and Castiel. The hunter sighed in embarrassment and went behind the bar. He looked around before finding two shot glasses, a few bottles of whiskey, and some beers, setting them in front of where Castiel sat, one by one. He went back around and took a seat at the bar, opening the whiskey and pouring two shots, sliding one to the angel.

"Here's to an eternity of just us," Dean said as they raised their glasses and downed them. It burned a little going down, but Dean enjoyed it. Oh, how he had missed this feeling. It had been seemingly forever ago since his last drink. Who knows, maybe it was forever ago, and he just couldn't tell anymore. He had slept a total of five times since this world became their new home, so he assumed he'd been gone for five days…

"You're telling me that this Skulletra thing just took Dean and Cas into another world, killed herself to save you, and now they're trapped?"

Sam nodded his head somberly. He hated disappointing Bobby like this. What was even worse is that he didn't know what to do when the orb shattered; he just took the Impala and left. He had sped down the road with Peoria in the rearview mirror, tears in his eyes. Sam knew that if he didn't find out a way to bring them both back, then they would be trapped there forever, and he would never see his older brother or the angel again. So, he ran to the only place he could go to find out what he could do: Bobby's.

That was two weeks ago.

"You goddamn idjit," Bobby scolded. "You left them boys behind in Wonderland for them to fend for themselves against whatever the hell might be there and you expect things to be fine?!"

"They won't be fine, Bobby, I know that!" Sam snapped. "And they're not fending shit off in there, it's just them! Valois created an empty void somewhere in space just for them to exist in and I don't know how to get them out!"

Bobby leaned back in his wheelchair. Getting himself crippled had been the biggest pain in his ass since that wendigo twenty years ago had him in the hospital for a month. He looked up at the moose of a Winchester. Sam was clearly having a mental breakdown at all that was going on. He could see it in the tensed jaw and watering eyes the kid was sporting at the moment. Bobby knew he shouldn't have yelled at him like that, but he needed to get his point across. Being a crotchety old man didn't mean he didn't have feelings; he was just as upset as Sam was. He wanted Dean and Castiel back more than anything, but they had to sit through it for now and figure out a way to get them back to this world without tearing each other's throats out. He tried to come up with the best possible solutions, but couldn't find anything.

"I'm sorry for yelling, Sam," Bobby finally admitted after a while, "I'm just as upset about all this as you are. And to make things worse, I have no idea how to pull someone from another dimension. Never had the need to."

Sam ran his hand up his face and through his hair, trying to keep from sobbing uncontrollably. There had to be something he could do. What would Dean have done if the roles were switched? He probably would have found a way to get into that world and drag them out himself. But how would he do that? He couldn't use astral projection; that only worked on the earthly plane. There wasn't any spell in existence that could transport him there, especially since he had no idea where he would be going. What would be able to pass between the worlds?

Then it hit him.

"Bobby?"

The old man looked up, broken from his deep thought. "Yes, Sam?"

"I think I know what we can do."

The bar around Dean began to appear blurry. He wasn't sure how many drinks he had, but he knew it was a lot. The air around him buzzed with a positive energy as he and Castiel joked around with each other, turning on the music and dancing like idiots with no one to watch. The hunter almost enjoyed it this way. He could be stupid with his best friend and no one was around to stare at them awkwardly, like they were some nuisances that needed to be swat away like flies. For the first time in a while, he felt… good. Surprisingly good. After a few minutes of hot, sweaty dancing, they returned back to where they sat at the bar. The whiskey bottle had been gone a while ago and Dean had to go get a few more beers.

Castiel dizzily sat on his barstool. He couldn't even deny how hammered he was, even if he tried. He didn't even drink as much as Dean did. He watched as the hunter went back around behind the bar. Everything else faded from Castiel's vision as he admiringly raked Dean's body with his eyes. For some reason, Dean was just so… beautiful. His perfectly chiseled jaw line and stubble were accentuated by his deep, forest green eyes, his shirt clinging to his muscular frame like static. The way Dean's jeans were hugging his built legs tightly and showing a slight bulge in his crotch made something in Castiel's gut stir like crazy… he knew this feeling. It was like when he had woken up with that thing in his own pants that one day, and Dean showed him how to get rid of it. He wasn't sure what that feeling was, or what it was called, but it only seemed to happen when he thought of Dean. The air between them felt like electricity, and Castiel wanted to lean in closer and just… he couldn't think straight anymore because the alcohol really hit him. He struggled to keep his own balance on the chair, and smiled idiotically when Dean came back to where they sat with more beers.

"You're looking pretty slammed, dude," Dean commented. "I think you're done." Castiel just nodded his head, and Dean noticed for the first time tonight how the angel looked. His hair looked like he just woke up from having sex with a hurricane, and his stubble was showing through just a little more slightly than normal. It was strange seeing Cas in a white T-shirt rather than an accountant get-up, but Dean liked the change. It was well-fitting and showed off Cas' body nicely. And those eyes… damn, those eyes got to him. Seas of blue lightning swallowed Dean up every time he stared into those gleaming orbs that belonged to the angel. He wanted to get lost in them forever. A tense silence erupted between the two men in the lonely bar as they both admired each other, not even aware that the other was checking them out.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean finally split the silence in two.

"Yeeessss, Dean?" The way Castiel slurred his words with such drunken happiness almost made Dean piss his pants with laughter, but something serious had entered his mind.

"Are you, are you… uh…" Dean found himself lost in his words as he took another drink of his beer.

"I am very real, Dean," Castiel said, attempting to sound as sober as possible. His failed attempt made him laugh to himself, and Dean's ears rang joyously at the sound of it. He loved hearing Cas laugh or seeing him smile. It was so rare to see back in real life that Dean wanted to relish in every moment that it occurred while Cas was still in angel.

"That's not what I meant, Cas," Dean finally said. The light air around them seemed to get heavier as his tone developed a more serious sound to it. Dean wanted to get this across. "I think… Cas, I think I like you."

Castiel's heart jumped in his chest. He looked at the man in front of him. Had Dean just confessed that he liked Castiel? The words made the angel shudder in parts of his body that he didn't even know existed, and he could feel sweat pooling on the back of his neck. For some weird reason, he instantly started to feel strangely nervous. Dean continued in his speech.

"Ever since we got here, I've been thinking about it. I always thought that I liked girls and I would never, ever want to be involved with a guy. But being here, I realized that I think I like you. That flower there—" he pointed to the Cupid's Lament in the flowerpot on the other end of the bar— "helped me realize that. Cas, I've always liked you. I was just too blind to see it. I was always thankful to you for saving us, for saving me… you pulled me out of Hell, man. No one else would have done that. I mean, I bet Sammy would have tried, but you were the only one who could." He reached in and cupped his hand on Castiel's cheek. The angel could feel himself sweating profusely. "Thank you."

Dean wanted Castiel more than anything, and not just for sex. He wanted to love him and take care of him, and actually take it slow instead of just going for a quick fuck like he used to. Cas didn't deserve to be a one night stand. He leaned in to kiss the angel, but never made it.

His vision blacked out as he saw the floor rushing towards him.

Castiel stood over the king sized bed, panting heavily, watching over the unconscious hunter. The room they were in was simplistic: the bed, covered with white sheets, was resting calmly in a solid oak wood frame in the middle of the room. There was no other furniture in the white-walled room, or even a door. For being last minute, Castiel was pleased with himself.

He had been waiting. Waiting for Dean to lean in and kiss him. Castiel's body had demanded it as he smelled the alcohol on Dean's breath, to feel the hunter's lips encase his own and fall into a romantic first kiss, to allow the feelings of pleasure to surge through him from the electricity of the embrace. But he had noticed Dean's stool beginning to tip over, and with the amount of alcohol the hunter had tonight, Castiel didn't expect him to make a recovery.

So he had reacted fast.

He had swung his arm as fast as he could, attempting to keep an elegant arc to it. Thankfully, he succeeded, because Dean had fallen onto the bed rather than the hardwood floor of the bar. Castiel mentally patted himself on the back for quick thinking, and the world started spinning around him. He threw up on the white floor and doubled over from the pain in his stomach. He was probably never going to drink again while he was human.

He slowly and dizzily climbed into the bed next to Dean, wrapping his arms around the man's body. Castiel heard the hunter's even breathing and smiled. Dean was okay. He didn't get hurt, and that's all the angel cared about; even if they didn't get to share a kiss. Castiel could feel his eyes fluttering shut, gently threatening sleep. He raised his own head up and pressed a chaste kiss against Dean's forehead.

"Dean…" Castiel whispered softly into Dean's ear, flinching when the other man stirred in his sleep slightly. "I like you too."

Castiel laid his head back down into the white pillow, letting him fall into a dream state filled with emerald eyes and electric lips.