Helping Hand

- Daianta

I really wish I owned Supernatural, but I would ruin it with my ideas.

This. Chapter 10 of 11. I can taste the end. This chapter is, in my opinion, a little on the short side, but does have a lot of man love. Here you go, it makes up for my hate for the previous chapter.

Chapter Ten: The Closer I Get

Word Count: 7,085

28th December 2011

Three dead in suspicious warehouse blaze

By Stella Leeds

Police chief Andy Rhoades is still baffled as to how three missing teenagers from Tacoma, Washington, ended up in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

"The fact is, these kids only went missing yesterday," The police chief tells Sioux Falls Evening Standard, "And how they ended up across America in a burnt out building is beyond me."

The blaze is believed to have started shortly after 4am, when local residents were woken to shouts and gunshots.

"It sounded like someone started a riot in the warehouse," said one local resident, who didn't want to be named, "Then there was a moment of silence, and the place went up in flames."

The teenagers were revealed to be Amelia Yates, 16; Jason Arons, 17; and Callum James, 16. The three did not know each other, yet how they ended up in the same warehouse together still remains a mystery. Mr. Rhoades, at a police inquiry, said "These children didn't deserve to die. We have no idea whether they were part of some cult or ritual that went wrong, or if they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The warehouse is under investigation until we understand what went on in there.

"We believe that they were murdered, on accounts that no gun was recovered from the initial investigation into the place. The reasons why, at this time, are not understood."

Startlingly, this is not the first time such incidents have taken place in Sioux Falls.

Three years ago, the body of a man known only as James M, was recovered from a lake in Family Park and was revealed to be from Bolivia. His family, not native English speakers, had informed Sioux Falls Evening Standard (SFES) that he had no reason to be in America, and had no enemies that would come after him.

He had unexplained burns to his skin that did not correlate with any acids or other chemicals, as well as nine bullet wounds to his chest, all of which were created before James died. Three of these went through his heart.

When asked whether these incidents are related, deputy chief Jesse Hudson refused to say. He did, however, tell SFES that, "We are not treating these incidents as related unless something similar in both cases turns up. We will be going over numerous deaths in the area to see if this is an unrelated incident. In the meantime, I ask the residents in Sioux Falls to remain vigilant, and to not go out at night by themselves. Until we understand what went on here, we don't know what we might be dealing with."

The families of the murdered teenagers were unavailable for comment.

Dean put down the paper with an air of finality. Christmas always brought out the weird things. The three kids had been possessed by demons, he was sure of it. Dean didn't know why they had been possessed, but their proximity to where his home was settled was enough to convince him that he, or a hunter around here, had been the intended target. He wondered if Castiel or Gabriel had caught them early, at four in the morning. Demon powers were detectable to angels, and they could have destroyed them easily. Still, he had no idea of who these people were. To him, they were kids. It was sad that they had to die, but it was a proven fact that demons were more likely to kill children when they were possessed. Their bodies just weren't up to the strain.

He was aware of the previous 'victim,' however. Bobby had been the one to kill him when he'd come too close to Bobby's hunting ground. He had tried to make it look like murder, the demon was alone, after all, but there were things that a well trained pathologist could see. And cover up. Dean rolled his eyes at the autopsy report at the bottom of the Evening Standard. The pathologist may not have been mentioned, but Dean knew who he was; an ex-hunter, out there helping hunters hide bodies and murders.

Honestly, hunting demons was the hardest and stupidest thing someone could do if they weren't prepared beyond weapons. One needed allies, friends. Ways to hide bodies or hide methods of killing. It was hard explaining to an 'uneducated' pathologist how normal bullets would not kill the demon inside of them.

Still, Christmas had been... Eventful. Tiring. He had a good time though. Balthazar hadn't caused any problems for Sam, the latter of whom had been very surprised. Crowley, too, had been kind. If it was anyone else, he would have assumed he was plotting something. But Crowley was grounded by the rules of Dean's hospitality. He had, albeit struggling, allowed the demon safety in the house by allowing him to stay.

Dean had been surprised by Castiel's present, but he had enjoyed it. It was special; he thought his present didn't match up to Cas'.

The voice at the back of his head said that he also enjoyed the kiss they shared out in the kitchen. He blushed, hiding it behind the newspaper, slapping his forehead with it as well.

Yeah, he was so in over his head.

He was seated – curled up – on the sofa in the living room, the heating on full blast to make the tall house warm. He had realised just how spaced out the houses in the area were; he could have rock music blaring and not disturb anyone. He could have blazing arguments and no one would hear a thing. It made him realise just how much he liked this house. It was a shame that he was trapped in this world.

Dean had come to realise he hadn't lost his memory; it seemed too far-fetched to make any sense. Sure, he was prone to accidents; his heart was proof of that. But this? This wasn't normal. Someone had trapped him in this make believe world. Somewhere he was sleeping, or being drained of his blood, and he was in a world where Cas loved him and he...

He couldn't bring himself to say it. He wanted to be back in reality so badly, where the real Castiel was, where they could be two halves conjoined. To hell with chick-flick moments, he was finished. Done.

He thought back to when he had first woken up in this little world, its sandbox structure and the change of seasons. Stupidly, he remembered the cold when he had first investigated, how he had ignored it due to fear and confusion. He had originally thought of the djinn and archangels, both beings who could trap him in something like this.

Gabriel was his first thought. But after he had received his Christmas present from him, he couldn't think of accusing Gabe. Someone didn't trap a human being in a different dimension and then buy him presents.

But he'd been trapped by a djinn before. He hadn't experienced the fleeting images of ethereal humans; the real world seeping in. Perhaps he was the only one; he could have been taken completely by surprise.

He spread himself out on the sofa, stretching, arms over his head and legs pointing towards the television. He didn't know what to do. He was alone in the house.

Sam and Gabriel had taken Alexis for a walk in the park, presumably to spend some family time alone, to think about the future. It was hard for them too. Would that mean in the real world Sammy and Gabriel were attempting to create a child? That would be awesome, actually. Sam deserved happiness, and he and Gabriel would be brilliant parents. The way they treated Alex now was enough proof.

Where were the others? Oh yeah, it took a moment for Dean to remember Ellen and Jo had left; they had to tend to their new bar built on the ashes of the former, like a phoenix risen from the flames. They hadn't wanted to go, but each had work to do. Ellen had told them they would be back for New Year, and Dean had welcomed them back for that event. Hopefully, they would all get drunk and watch the fireworks light up the night sky to imitate day.

Bobby was out researching at the library; he had received a call about a hunt and was out collecting information for the hunter. Dean thought Crowley had gone with him, and he wouldn't be surprised if he had been right. They seemed permanently joined at the hip. Not that Dean minded, not anymore. He had come to terms with it, forgiven the demon for any of his past transgressions. As long as Crowley didn't try to kill them again. He couldn't block the demons from attacking the Winchesters, no, some of them were still loyal to Lucifer and not the king of Hell. It was a risk they were willing to take.

However, it was a really strange grey area. They were hunters by nature; they killed the supernatural and saved lives. If one hunter was with a demon, what would that look like? What would it mean? Crowley was not simply some low levelled demon, he was the freaking king of Hell. Could he live with hunters killing his subordinates?

Dean laughed at the image of Crowley standing by himself in Hell all alone, looking around trying to find any demons but realising they had all been destroyed.

Dean finished his stretch and reached for the remote control. He had the house to himself for a few hours. Wait, there was Castiel upstairs.

He found himself thinking back to their kiss in the kitchen, and their kiss under the mistletoe. Were they a couple? Were they simply friends who care a lot about each other? No, Dean presumed it was the former. At least, that's what he wished for. He thought of the feather, nestled in the box still next to his bed. It is a gift more precious than anything Dean has ever owned before. He doesn't know what to do with it, he doesn't know how to pay back Castiel for such a gift.

Castiel had given Dean a part of him, and the human can only sit on the sofa and mull over it. Such a conundrum.

Still, he thought back. Cas had been there for him when they were trying desperately to stop the Apocalypse: Dean had helped him when he had been rendered human. There was always something between them, he had to admit. Even the look Sam sometimes gave them was enough.

Dean got to his feet when he heard someone on the landing, someone who had just come out of the library judging from where the footsteps originate from. He moved quickly, opening the door and heading into the hallway. His feet were warm against the cold of the tiles, he can feel his skin prickle almost uncomfortably, but he ignores all that.

Castiel is regal on the top of the stairs, a heavy book in his hands, bound in leather. He is absorbed in the tome, about to stride down the stairs. Dean doesn't care for the book. He is looking at Cas with something akin to hunger, and he watches as Castiel looks up at him and the angel's eyes dim with lust. Both know what is next.

Dean takes the stairs two at a time until he reaches the top, where Cas is waiting for him.

There is a moment of silence as they square each other up. Dean can see Castiel the angel, hidden in blue depths, at the edges of his vessel. He often wonders if he has fallen for the angel or the vessel he is using, but it is the angel that speaks. It is the angel that thinks and feels, and Dean knows his answer.

"Dean?" Cas questions, turning away from the human to place the book down on a series of shelves that have been erected by the doorway of their room. It is almost empty; a few empty glasses from drinks carried upstairs and in the library. There is a glass bowl filled with pot-pourri, an almost feminine touch but it adds colour to the neutral space.

Cas turns back, eyeing the human hunter. Dean is holding himself tall, broad shoulders tense with something. Castiel is not well versed in human stances, but he knows Dean as well as he knows himself. The man is moving, moving towards him and Castiel is allowing him into his personal space. It is going to be a repeat of the incident in the kitchen.

It is amazing how far they have come in a short space of time. He has finally got his Dean back, as the hunter's lips fall onto his own.

Dean tastes of something unique, that can only be associated with him, and Castiel allows his eyes to close. He wraps an arm around Dean's waist, growling almost as he closes the gap between them. He feels Dean move them forwards, so Castiel's back is resting against the wall.

He can feel the heat between them.

It is Castiel who runs his tongue across Dean's lips; he usually waited for Dean to initiate that contact. He has not done it often, only with Dean, and feels inexperienced. But here, he knows Dean needs a little prodding.

The hunter's mouth parts invitingly for him, and he wastes no time in plundering that warm cavern with his tongue, tasting the barest hint of cinnamon from the cakes Ellen had made on Boxing Day that Dean had finished devouring earlier.

Cas is unsure who is making noises; he or Dean, but he doesn't wish for them to go away, he revels in them.

Dean is kissing him as if he has never been kissed before, and dear God, Cas curses, he doesn't want him to stop.

Cas can feel his knuckles turning white as he grips harder on Dean's shirt, one hand finding its way under clothes to feel the skin there. Dean moans, gliding his tongue against Cas' and the angel can feel the moan reverberate in his being. It is erotic and stimulating.

Dean pulls away, flushed, eyes glazed. His breathing is ragged, but he doesn't remove his hands from Cas' body.

He jerks his head in the direction of the bedroom; half drags Castiel blindly, who has not answered and is alight with desire. He follows Dean into their shared bedroom, closing the door behind him and locking it just to be sure.

"Sam... Sammy! Oh my Father!" Gabriel exclaimed, jumping up from his seat to stand in the centre of the kitchen, his eyes fixed on a point out of reach. Sam likes to think that he's seeing something important, instead of the normally stupid things Gabriel spies on.

"What?" Sam said, looking up from his paper. He has a bowl of a half-eaten fruit salad in front of him, spoon perched against the rim of the bowl.

"They're getting it on! Dean's finally made his move."

Gabriel turned to Sam, a wry smile.

"Don't ruin it for them," Sam warns, pointing an accusing finger at him, "I'll gut you if you do."

Gabriel waves a hand in his partner's direction.

"I would never do such a thing! Just know that it's almost over. When Dean falls asleep, he will wake back in this world."

Once in the room, the atmosphere changes, and Castiel thinks he's blown his chances again. Dean is nervous, not used to such proximity with the angel in a sexual setting. Cas is quick to dampen his fears.

"Don't worry, Dean. I will do nothing you don't want me to do."

He smiled at the hunter, who is perched on the edge of the bed, and kneeled down before him.

"Thanks, Cas." Dean's voice is hoarse from want, his grin asymmetrical and lopsided. Cas can't stop himself from pressing a hand to his lover's cheek, who reclines into it like a well practised dance. The trust is there between them, strong as ever. Castiel can wait, for God knows how long he has waited for Dean already. He would not force Dean into anything he wasn't ready for.

He leant up to press a chaste kiss to Dean's throat. He laid back on the bed to allow Cas more access. It was nice. It was better than he had expected. Dean had never allowed a man to do this to him; to get as close as Cas was. He was straight, he knew that. But then there was Cas and their profound bond, and how it transcended all boundaries and labels. In Dean's mind he was straight, but he made an exception for Cas. How could he not? Castiel was a being like light, he couldn't refuse him, even if he wanted to. Not that he did.

Dean rolled them over so he was on top, and rained kisses on Cas' body. He was gentle on the neck, nipping at the vein and leaving open mouthed kisses in his wake. He was sure to leave a mark on Cas' shoulder, at the junction of his neck and collarbone. To mark Castiel as his. Beneath him, Castiel was moaning, breathless, overcome with the feelings that made him love Dean. Just being with him was enough. To have him like this; hovering over him, smothering him with gentle and firm kisses... It was something else.

Castiel gasped aloud when Dean pressed himself to Cas' frame, feeling the hunter's erection over his own. His eyes were open, and he focused on Dean's eyes, the way his face lit up. This was good for him, too.

He breathed out Dean's name, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He didn't know what to do with himself. Dean was ecstasy.

And then Dean had his hand on his zipper, and Castiel was not breathing. His blue eyes were fixated on Dean's hands as they undid the top button. Was Dean sure he wanted to do this; so soon?

His concentration was broken when he heard voices downstairs. Gabriel and Sam were back with Alex. Cas sighed, moving into a seating position. Dean didn't move from between his legs, he simply looked up at him with green eyes.

"Hey Cas. We've got all the time in the world. Don't worry."

Dean moved then, getting to his feet and removing the jacket he was wearing. Castiel looked confused, but his eyes widen in understanding when Dean crawls across the bed and pulls Castiel to him. They are cuddling. Castiel curls into the human's embrace as if he needed the heat. His head is resting on Dean's chest, listening to Dean's erratic heartbeat underneath his ear. His hand is splayed against his stomach, while Dean has an arm around him and the other hand hanging loosely by his side.

Dean moves it, caressing Castiel's hand and entwining their fingers together, resting them against his stomach again.

"You made me happy, you understand." Castiel says, hesitant. The room had been quiet for a few minutes, the silence comfortable. The voices downstairs had vanished again; evidentially they had forgotten something.

"Made?"

"I woke up one morning and you weren't the same. You ran away from everything; you regressed. I was lost without you. But I have you back, now."

"Well don't worry, Cas, I'm not planning on going anywhere." Dean says, but his words, although with meaning, feel empty.

He is trapped, and he wants to find a way out. He wants to find the real Castiel, to hold him like he and this Castiel are doing now.

"It took you long enough to work out your feelings," Cas whispers against Dean's shirt, "I was beginning to lose faith."

He raised his head to look at Dean, a lazy smile on his lips and his heart was filled to bursting.

"I love you, Dean."

Dean felt his blood heat, even as his heart stopped. He hadn't expected Cas to be so forward about that. Dean knew what it meant to hear it from an angel. It was a whisper that came from the soul; he'd observed it with Sam and Gabriel. To hear it from Castiel was different. It was on a personal level, and although Dean would probably never be able to say it, he meant it, and showed it through actions rather than words.

"I-"

Cas shook his head, "Don't worry. I don't want you to say it. I just wanted you to know how much you really mean to me."

Dean responded by rolling onto his side, moving Cas to face him. If they had been under the duvet, they would have been ready for sleep.

Dean kissed him softly this time, a lot different to their previous kiss. This one was sweet and mushy.

He remembered that he had undone Cas' button and slipped his hand across the angel's skin of his stomach, coming to rest just above the waistband of his jeans.

Cas looked at him. "Dean," He warned, giving the hunter a level look.

He only responded by pecking Cas on the mouth and closing the button up, his hand roving to sit on his hip.

Dean couldn't. This wasn't his Cas, this was a fake one. As much as he wanted the pleasure between them, he could wait until he was back. Sure, there would be hell to pay when he found out who had trapped him in this glass jar, but for now he was contented.

Castiel rested his head beside Dean's chest, inhaling the hunter's scent and generally closing the distance between them as much as he could. The human was falling asleep, and Castiel could begin to feel himself drifting off.

With Dean, he was himself. Nothing else. He was simply the being Castiel. He appreciated that from Dean, the simplicity and the hope that generated from the man. Castiel sighed and snuggled closer to Dean, as he pulled the duvet over them to keep them warm.

Dean felt himself on the precipice of sleep. He let himself fall.

Sleep was something Dean didn't get enough of. When people usually went to sleep, he and Sam would be awake hunting the things that went bump in the night. When it was sunlight hours, they would be doing research or discreet stakeouts or simply travelling. Sleep was low on the day's normal agenda.

So this kind of sleep was nice. It was a sleep saved for the weekend.

Green eyes blinked, once, twice, and closed again. Then opened. Dean sighed, stretching his long body out like a cat. That sleep had been good. Taking naps in the day wasn't something he normally took advantage of, but having Cas next to him made him relax.

He turned over, expecting to see Castiel next to him. He wasn't.

Instead, Dean felt his head spin again, taking in the room around him. He was home.

His apartment – gods, he'd missed it. The messy room was laid out for him to see. The work clothes from yesterday merely dropped to the floor where he'd stripped; the chair in the corner piled with clean clothes that he had washed and left. The wardrobe with the slightly wonky door. Dean didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He was home, at least. He was free from the world that he had been trapped in. He was home.

There was a safety to home that nothing compared to. It was a belief that home was the safest place to be; no one could touch you.

He laid back down in bed – not remembering when exactly he had sat up – and covered his eyes with the heels of his hands, rubbing them hard enough to see blurs of colour behind closed lids.

He'd come to love Castiel. The angel of the Lord, proverbial stick-in-the-mud who had become more human the longer he had stayed with Dean and Sam. Who had died for them when the apocalypse had reached a head, and even then came back. He dragged Sam out of Hell, in a similar fashion to how he'd pulled out Dean; but with less marks on the giant's skin. Dean felt himself reach over and touch the mark, the hand print seared into his skin that would be with him until the day he died.

Christ. He really did love the bloody angel. It had hurt him to think that he'd been trapped with an alternate form, a form that was not true to the angel of Thursday.

He didn't know what to do. So he remained in bed, to simply think and clear his head.

It was approaching noon when Sam looked at the clock, for the umpteenth time. To be honest, he'd lost count some time after twenty. His partner, currently stuffing his face with sweets, had mentioned that Dean's time in the Box, since they were capitalising the word now, was almost at an end. So Sam was stuck waiting until Gabriel revealed the very moment Dean was back in his own conscious, not trapped in a place Sam didn't even want to know about.

Sam had wanted to peer inside the box, to see how he and Gabriel would look with a child, but Gabe had refused. The Archangel knew how their child would look; knew its gender, and hadn't wanted to spoil the surprise for Sammy.

Over the course of the morning Sam had been receiving updates; sometimes menial ones like when Gabriel had sidled close to him and mentioned how the three of them had gone to the park for some family time. How his face had been overtly warm when he softly informed Sam about their child's gifts from his extended family.

"It's over," Gabriel said suddenly, around a candy concoction in his mouth.

Sam looked up hurriedly, catching the amber eyes of his lover, "And...?"

"Dean is in love," Gabriel sang, with a strangely high pitch that was above his normal speech range. Almost as if he was making fun of Sam's elder brother. Sam knew better.

"But I'm worried," Gabriel added, toning down his voice and staring at the ground.

Sam stood and moved to where Gabriel was sitting, patting him on the shoulder, "Worried about what? Dean likes Cas; Cas was already in love with Dean. What's the problem?"

"I think Cassie knew. Castiel isn't stupid. I couldn't fool Crowley with the Box; he wormed his way in. I think Castiel did the same."

"But that can't be a bad thing, right? It means Cas could, I dunno, really admit his feelings while in there?"

Gabriel shook his head, and sighed when he felt the nearby presence of his younger brother. He was approaching rapidly.

"Well we're about to find out."

Sam looked up when he heard the flutter of wings, the change in pressure from the air moving to accommodate a sudden presence out of nowhere. Castiel was stood, glaring at the back of Gabriel's head with all the hate he could muster. His piercing gaze was legendary; Sam was almost intimidated by it once. But he had seen this angel unconscious, had seen him high (with some help from Gabriel, who allowed Sam to see what Dean had in the future) and had seen him on the edge of drunkenness. The intimidation would not work.

"Hey bro." Gabriel said plainly, knowing this was a confrontation he would rather not have at this hour of day.

"Gabriel. Sam. Congratulations on your pregnancy."

"Hey," Sam interjected suddenly, "How did you know about that?"

Castiel merely glanced over to Sam, blue eyes alight with something Sam had never seen before.

"I am an angel, Sam. And Gabriel here was a little sloppy with a game he was playing."

Gabriel got to his feet, turning around to face the little angel.

"And what game would that be?"

Castiel did not answer for a moment, and Sam saw him swell with anger. The air around the pair of angels seemed to crackle with an unseen force, and for a moment Sam thought they were going to physically come to blows. Castiel was never this angry.

"Locking Dean into an alternate dimension. Did you not think I wouldn't find out? I know when angels are making copies of my being."

"But you didn't have to take part, you know." Gabriel retorted, folding his arms when he saw how Castiel suddenly looked disarmed.

Cas couldn't answer that one. The world knew how attracted he was to one Dean Winchester, except the man himself. He couldn't bring himself to say he was thankful to Gabriel for creating that world, where Dean had finally come to the realisation that he liked the angel too.

"I got you there, bro. What you should do is go to him, admit your feelings for him plainly this time, and thank me later."

"I do not forgive you for locking him there. He thought he was trapped, with no idea how to get out. You do not know how he felt."

"So how long did you know he was there? From the moment he first tried to talk to you, or was it later?" Sam said, finally involving himself in the conversation, completely cutting off Gabriel. The Archangel looked as if he would say something potentially aggravating, and Sam didn't have the time to get angel blood out of the carpet.

"If you must know, Gabriel, I knew since the incident in the library. When you had the fight with the Watcher and interrupted Dean and I."

"Woah, what were the pair of you doing in the library?" Sam said, waving a hand around to get someone's attention.

"They were about to kiss. I cock-blocked him."

"You could have potentially unravelled whatever was going on between us."

"But you're all fine now, aren't you? Saw you were getting pretty intimate in the bedroom. Popped downstairs briefly to check on you."

"I heard." Castiel said scathingly, but the malice in his eyes had faded, if only a little.

Sam watched as Cas seemed to shudder, a minute movement that would have been missed had Sam not been watching him curiously.

"Cas?"

"Dean is calling me. This is not over, Gabriel. I hope you enjoyed the book I gave to Sam."

He moved out of existence in a flap of wings, leaving a bemused Sam and a scowling Gabriel.

"What book? Gabriel? What book did he give to me?"

"It doesn't matter."

Gabriel popped another hard candy into his mouth, still scowling, and went back to reading whatever was in front of him. Sam merely looked on in confusion, and made a note to ask Castiel about it when they had time.

For now, he was content knowing his elder brother was finally going to be happy.

Castiel appeared before Dean, looking a little pissed off but rather whole. Just how Dean had remembered him. Dean had looked at a calender as soon as he had remembered, to find it was June and not December. Things were falling back into place.

Castiel was staring at Dean, the pair of them not talking to one another, and Dean was beginning to feel nervous. He wasn't even sure if Castiel would feel the same for him, or if someone, somewhere, was playing a mean trick on him.

Thankfully, it was the angel who spoke first.

"I'm sorry you were trapped in that world, Dean."

"Wait, you knew? You knew, and you didn't try to bust me out?" Dean was beginning to feel anger rise in his chest, until Castiel managed to dampen it with his next words. He couldn't believe that the angel knew, all along.

"I could not break you out, Dean. It was Gabriel who trapped you in the first place."

"That son of a bitch. I'll kill him." He swore, and moved to sit on the sofa in his living room. Even then, it didn't feel right. He had become used to the living room in his trapped world. That world, although different, wasn't that far from what he was living in now. Sam and Gabriel were together; he was pretty much the same person, Ellen and Jo were normal, and even Bobby and Crowley were the same as ever.

He would kill Gabriel, but at the same time thank him for all that he had done. The Archangel had opened his eyes, if only a little. He would be able to forgive Crowley for being a demon, since he had been able to make Bobby happy. He would be able to understand Castiel better; having fallen for him in the short space of time they had been together.

"I have to thank him, Dean. In a way. I was in the world as well, after a certain point."

Dean flushed scarlet. He hadn't anticipated Castiel being a part of it as well.

"You were involved?"

"No. At least, not originally. Gabriel was using a form of me without my permission. When I realised what it was for, I entered the alternate world and found... that. You, trapped without any idea of what was going on. Gabriel and Sam with a child."

"Wait, wait. What part were you involved with?"

"I became acquainted with the world a little while before the incident in the library. When you recounted your dreams to me, I was fully immersed in the world."

"Wait. We almost kissed then. You knew, and you didn't try to help me?"

Castiel flinched when he heard the despair in his friend's voice. He considered it an act of betrayal. He had known his friend was in there and had not tried to help him out in any way. He had not kindly informed Dean that Cas was involved, and was going to bust him out. Dean continued, "You could have accosted Gabriel, and got us out. Instead, you and I almost kiss. Oh God. We did kiss. The mistletoe..."

"And then in the bedroom. Did you not think for a moment that I wanted it, Dean?"

A moment of silence, given to Dean to allow him to register what the words meant. Castiel hadn't meant to simply throw the words between them, but he had learned that sometimes it was the easiest thing to do with Dean. Cas focused on Dean, back ramrod straight. He was dressed in the trench coat Dean was used to, still in the suit. He looked the same, visually. But inside, Dean knew something had changed between them. Perhaps there had always been something between them.

Well, besides their Profound Bond.

Castiel went out of his way to care for Dean; bringing him out of hell and then doing the same for his brother, all to make the hunter happy. Castiel, who became a human for a short while because he wanted to help Dean. Castiel, who, when hearing Dean was in a predicament, came to help.

The fact that Castiel hadn't stopped the alternate world because he wanted them to happen was something Dean was struggling to get his head around. Dean had wanted it too. But would admitting it be admitting weakness?

Castiel took a step forwards, faster than Dean was prepared for, and the hunter had his back against the wall. Castiel was invading his personal space, but he found he didn't mind. It was the opposite of the event in the hallway, that led to the bedroom. Castiel was ablaze, and Dean could feel himself catching fire too.

"Cas..." Dean began, but his voice was hoarse and he stopped himself before he was made a fool.

"How do you feel about me, Dean?"

The question threw Dean for a moment, and he searched Cas' eyes for a moment. Finding that he was giving nothing away, Dean had to answer him.

"I care for you. Cas, you're my friend. C'mon, we've been through too much to throw that friendship away, man."

"And?" Castiel was cool against him, almost flush; chests mere inches from each other. Dean could feel himself cowering, if just a little, against the sheer force of the angel. He was letting Dean know that he was not human; far from it, and to accept his faults meant accepting every part of him.

"And," Dean repeated, slowly, "How do you feel about me?"

"You know how." Came the stoic reply.

Dean found himself rolling his eyes, still trapped between the wall and the angel. Between a rock and a hard place, almost.

"I want to hear you say it." The human hissed, placing a hand to Cas' shoulder and moving him back an inch. The trench coat was familiar under his fingers, and he repressed the urge to keep touching it.

The pair of them knew their true feelings for each other, even if Dean had been duped by an Archangel in order to see it for himself. He had known for a while, perhaps longer than he was willing to think about, that Dean meant a lot to Castiel. He hadn't been entirely sure how far that care went.

He was sidetracked for a moment, wondering to himself how in all of Hell they had ended up here. Professing their attractions to one another in Dean's small living room, when each knew full well the true intent of this little rendezvous.

"You are my everything. When God first asked me to rescue you from hell, I had to admit I was sceptical. I did not think you were that important; after all, you were only a man in hell, condemned while saving his brother.

"And then I saw your soul. While my brothers fell around me, protecting you and I, I could only see you. You were light, in this place of infinite darkness. I put you back together, leaving you in the coffin Sam had placed you, and watched as you emerged, like a butterfly out of a cocoon."

"Thanks, Cas." Dean said with an asymmetrical smile, leaning back against the wall to lock away the information he had just heard.

"I never said I was finished," Cas said coolly, "I found out early on that I could not talk to you, so I managed to find a man who prayed for it. Then we butted heads. You did not trust me, I felt hurt by it. But over time, we came to understand each other. I was... Deeply hurt, when I realised you had been with Anna..."

"Hey Cas. It was in the past man."

Dean's hand moved of its own accord, slicing through the awkward gap between them and resting on Cas' hip. Dean couldn't bring himself to glance up at the angel, even as said angel was taking a step forwards again.

He could feel himself flush, the scarlet heating his face. The elder Winchester, although having kissed Castiel already, was not ready for this version. The real version. Although the Castiel he had kissed was the same as the one that stood before him, stark reality was seeping in. Was he going to turn away from this? No. But he had learned that sometimes you needed to be careful. Castiel was his safety blanket, a force that would not leave.

Dean realised why Castiel kept being brought back from death. Even God was playing matchmaker.

Castiel took a hold of Dean's other hand, bringing it to his chest.

"This beats for you, Dean."

The hunter couldn't contain himself anymore. Careful to keep his hand over Cas' heart, he moved the hand on the angel's hip and held the man to him, pressing cautious lips together.

Cas' arms snaked around Dean's waist, pulling them closer together. He felt Dean move his arm rather awkwardly from between their chests and instead used it to anchor himself to Cas' body.

Dean could feel the sparks spread over his body, like fire without the intense heat. It felt different, unique. He could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, like molten lead. He felt weightless, however, as if he could fly. He felt Cas grin against his mouth, and realised the angel was using his mojo on him. He didn't particularly mind.

The phone on the tiny wooden coffee table began to ring, and the two men let go of each other slowly. Castiel's eyes looked glazed, the barest hint of a contained smile at the corner of his mouth. Dean didn't think he looked any better.

"I'm not letting you go, Cas. Not now that I have you."

"I wouldn't be able to."

Cas' blue eyes were staring at Dean, in that same familiar way they always did. As if seeing his soul. Dean turned and picked up his phone before the call rung off, checking who it was before answering. It was Sam.

"Dude, we're coming over. We have some news."

"Alright man, see you in a moment."

Dean hung up the phone, strangely concerned by the sheer happiness in his younger brother's voice. He had no idea what his partner had done to his brother.

Although now, Dean was finding it hard to hate Gabriel now. He had brought him and Cas together, and that was something Dean appreciated. He knew he could be difficult to live with.

He glanced back at Cas, to find him leaning against the door, simply watching the human with lidded eyes.

"Cas?"

The angel smiled, beckoning him over. Dean did not refuse him and they met again, in a simple hug. Sometimes it was the hardest thing to do. But being here, with Cas, was the best thing Dean could do. Ever. No one was going to take the angel from him now that they were together, after all the crap they went through to get there.

The pair simply hugged, and would wait until Sam and Gabriel arrived.