All the demons were dead, having been killed in the distraction of the holy water sprinklers within minutes of the surprise attack. Sam and Kevin had thought them up as a line of defence a while ago, and this was the first time they'd gotten to try it out. Dean explained, as he bandaged the stab wound, that it was Crowley that told them that the demons were outside, allowing them to get the advantage. Sam and Kevin waited around the building, and Dean walked out the front, pretending to fall into their trap, while really setting one for the rest of them.

Abraxas had been the last to die, and though Dean had wanted to step in and just kill the demon, Sam had stopped him, and allowed Castiel to fight him on his own. Castiel had been too caught up to notice his audience, but he was grateful for their support and he was extremely grateful that he'd gotten to kill the bastard himself.

Dean insisted on installing panels of protective sigils and spells, some of them dredged up from Castiel's faintest memories, to replace the once Castiel had broken. Castiel helped with the casting and carving as much as he was allowed with a painful side and stitches that tore too easily. He earned calluses on his hands in the place of scabs and scrapes.

A little more than a week later, time spend healing and fixing what he'd broken, Castiel flipped his cheap phone closed, a feeling of peace and rightness conflicting with his nerves. He crossed the library, and tapped on the kitchen door.

Dean was in front of the stove, shifting to grab bottles of spices in succession and adding them to the wonderful smelling pot on the burner. He turned at Castiel's knock, and his face brightened in welcome.

"Cas, hey, what's up?"

Castiel came fully in, and took a seat at the steel kitchen island in the middle of the room.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel replied, still unsure of the proper response to 'what's up?'. "Nothing...is up...as such."

Dean chuckled. "You can just say, not much, or nothing. Unless something is up, and then you say that."

Castiel nodded, grateful for those moments when Dean taught him, rather than mocked him for his inexperience at human communication.

"Well, in that case, something is...up."

Dean tilted his head a bit. "Oh?"

Tapping his fingers on the metal, looking at the healing scars left on the knuckles, Castiel took a moment before responding.

"I just spoke with my employer."

Dean stilled, and then turned back to the stove, stirring the pot. He nodded towards the burner, and Castiel wished he could see his eyes.

"Angela, right. What'd she say?"

Castiel swallowed.

"She called to ask when I was coming back to work. I told her soon."

The silence stretched out. Dean didn't move, holding the spoon to stir inches above the surface of the soup. Then he tossed it down, and turned around, a terrible fake smile on his face.

"Great, that's great. Glad you can get back to your life." His voice was flat, and Castiel felt a surge of alarm, and irrationally, irritation.

"You're upset." He stated, and Dean huffed. "You knew I had to get back to work after this was all over. You said it was temporary."

Dean's calm broke, and his teeth clenched. "Dammit, Cas! I only said that so you'd come."

"You lied. You, what? Want to keep me trapped here?" Castiel felt angry, like he had so often since Dean came back into his life, but he did take slight comfort in the fact that it was his own, and no one elses. And, he didn't feel the urge to stab or strangle Dean...punch him maybe.

Dean slammed his hand on the metal counter, making the utensils rattle.

"No, I don't want to trap you, you idiot! I just-" He cut himself off, and turned, working his jaw. "I hoped..."

Castiel's eyes narrowed.

"Hoped what?"

Dean turned back, meeting his gaze with fury and worry and fear all swirling.

"Hoped you'd want to stay."

Oh.

Castiel froze in shock. Somehow, that was a surprise. It shouldn't have been, now that he thought of it. Dean had never made it a secret that he wanted Castiel to not fly off as often as he did. But, he never thought that now, powerless and useless, that Dean would want him back.

"Well, that's ridiculous." Was his only spluttered response. Dean blinked, and frowned, defensive.

"What are you talking about?"

Castiel felt a tight feeling in his throat, and swallowed against it.

"You don't want me in your life, Dean. I've done so much, and I'm still so angry and new at this, and I can't do anything. I'm just a liability, a waste of space."

Dean, his shoulders loosening, pulled out the stool on the other side, and sat down across from him. Castiel's hands were twisted up together on the table, and Dean put his own hand out, flat mere inches from his fingers.

"Cas, listen to me, just for one freaking minute, okay? I don't care about all that. I'm screwed up in the head too. I drink too much, I don't sleep well, and I'm pissed a lot of the time. We've both got more than enough between us to be angry at each other for."

Castiel had to nod, remembering the rage he'd felt dredged up by the demon influence. It didn't create that feeling.

"It isn't fair to be angry at you. I'm the one who's hurt you, Dean. So badly, over and over. My own feelings should be inconsequential."

Dean lifted his hands off the table, and rubbed at his brow, gesturing with the other.

"I've hurt you too. I know it." He shrugged. "I know it seems like the Winchester way, but it isn't healthy to deny your feelings like that- and don't tell Sam I said that. He might think I actually listen to him."

Castiel couldn't help but chuckle, a tiny bit. "Sam gives good advice, I think. He told me...he said, you were glad to find me. That I was alive. Even if you didn't act like it."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, my head was pretty messed up. But, I am. Glad that is. If you knew..." He looked down, and scoffed. "Damn, I'm not good at this."

Castiel nodded. "Neither am I."

There was a silent moment, and then Castiel caught Dean's eyes again.

"I never wanted to kill you, Dean. It seems like I need to say that."

Dean rubbed at his wrist with his opposite thumb. "Well, glad about that...wouldn't be surprised, but I'm glad."

Castiel looked down, watched as Dean's hand smoothed over his freckled wrist, and then reached out and put his own hand over it, stopping Dean's movements.

"I..." Castiel thought about leaving. In a few days, going back to his small apartment, back to mopping the floors at night, and sleeping through the day in his small hard bed, and talking to no one. He thought of how Dean's thumb had moved back and forth over his back when he shook after the nightmare, and he was filled with just...wanting. Wanting to stay, to be here with Dean and with Sam, and to not be lonely anymore. "I want to stay."

Dean had stilled when Cas had touched him, and from the angle, Castiel imagined he could feel Dean's pulse. He swallowed, and looked up after a long moment. Dean was smiling softly.

"Good," He finally said, his voice a little rough. "That's...that's good. Of course, man."

Castiel pulled away, rubbing a hand over his face. Relief was moving through him, and tension he didn't even realize he was feeling was fading from his neck and shoulders. Dean patted the table, and then started.

"Shit!" He stood, and hurried back to the stove. "The soup!"

He'd broken the moment of awkwardness that even Castiel could feel, and something about that was funny to Cas. He chuckled, as Dean stirred the soup, and tasted it, still swearing.

"Don't you laugh. This is dinner." Dean said.

"I'm sure it will be delicious, Dean. Your cooking always is."

The back of Dean's neck flushed a bit, and Castiel hid another smile.

"Yeah, well, I hope you're hungry. I'm trying a new recipe."

Castiel smiled.

"I'll look forward to it."

Well everyone, thank you so much for reading, liking, and reviewing. I really appreciated all of it, even if I didn't respond to your review personally. Big hugs and thank yous! Life has been really insane the past few months, with my housing, roommates, job and social life just suddenly going nuts or just imploding, but things should be better now, and your reviews and kindness really made some days brighter.
Enough personal stuff. This story started as just scribbling out headcanons of what Cas had been up to since the Kindness of Strangers oneshot (found on my page). I was just curious, but then he was at work, and a demon showed up and said 'here, have a plot' and shoved it down my throat. So, I got this out in between life and trying to write an original novel as well. Like I said, life's been insane.

Opinions on future plot starts here:
Castiel's journey of trying to live on his own is what I strongly feel will (/should) happen in the show. If Cas goes crawling back to Dean, then their relationship would never be the same. They'd never be equals the way they need to be. Cas needs to find some independence, and come to terms with himself without help from someone as close as Dean. He's a prideful little bastard, and it would make him feel worse about himself than he already does. If Cas goes back to Dean, I believe we will see End!Verse Cas. Ironically, the best thing for Cas is the worst thing for Dean. Dean, who only ever wants Cas to stay, to choose to stay...if he gets Cas back too soon, it will be to push under the rug every issue they have between them to take care of him. We've seen do this with Sam, and it always blows up later. It's tragic.

Other notes:
The chapter headings are from Adam Lindsay Gordon's poem, "Wormwood And Nightshade", The title is the the official name of the plant called Common Wormwort, or Mugwort, an invasive weed in North America, originating from Europe, Asia, and Africa.