About twenty minutes from Lebanon, Dean began to get riled up, Bruce Banner style angered. It wasn't because of anything that Castiel had said or done. Neither had any new pile of steaming bullshit had landed on their shoes. He really wanted to push this away. Castiel did not deserve to have all Dean's crap vented onto him. There'd been times when Dean had acted like a shit and Castiel had been an easy target. Sam had even called him out on it before the final trial. Dean bit down on his lip and gripped the wheel as if it was the bar of a rollercoaster cart heading for the big loop. He wasn't planning on cussing Cas out of it. If anything he'd like to pull over and fuck into Cas, a frenzied pounding into the dirt, with Dean shouting and Castiel moaning underneath him, until he'd wrecked them both, and the rage had been transmuted into something rough and harsh but possessive and better.

As the Impala ate the miles bringing them closer to the bunker, Dean seethed against the devious traitorous untrustworthy dick who had robbed the Men of Letters' HQ of all the security and solace it had imparted to him. Along with a rising temper came that type of wrathful self-loathing that curled inwards, waving a race-starting-sized flag of his own stupidity, rash decisions, and deceptions in his face. He was angry at life and the world and the shit hand that Winchesters always got dealt. If wishing wells didn't kill you, Djinns didn't suck the life out of you, and jumping to alternative realities didn't result in mass casualties, then Dean might have asked Castiel if a world existed where they could...

The lyrics of that old Cat Stevens song rattled through his brain... settling down despite everything, getting to be old and happy... But Dean knew he didn't get to have that life. Even more he knew he didn't deserve it after everything he had done, including his latest layer of crap and its consequences... all the BS and downright lies he had spouted.

Castiel reached over and placed a hand on Dean's jumping knee.

Dean tried a deep inhalation and an attempt to narrow his world down to the road in front of him and the pressure from Castiel's hold.

"It is not your fault."

Dean refused to take any comfort from the welcome sound of Castiel's gravelled voice, when he was not entitled to receive it.

"It kinda is, Cas." Dean didn't look to the side.

"Did you tell the angel posing as Ezekiel to smite Kevin, to renege on his promise to help Sam?"

"You know I didn't," Dean spat, "but that doesn't mean jack."

"You are not responsible for this angel's actions." Castiel insisted.

"You're not freaking listening to me Cas." Dean's volume increased. His chest thrummed with boiling acid, "You know the dude doing the aiding and abetting gets jail time too."

"Stop Dean." Castiel's voice held such command that Dean almost slammed on Baby's brakes. He held back further comment and listened to the angel. Castiel huffed and removed his hand from Dean's leg, "I refuse to allow you to do this to yourself. By all means, take responsibility for your own mistakes but you will not shoulder the blame and penance for the actions of a renegade angel."

"I fucking did this. I called out. I opened the door. I would have done anything. You hear me, anything to get Sam back. And I did it. Me. It's on me." Dean choked out the last words, "You should freaking hate me, man. I turned my back on you when you needed me the most..."

"Dean, please, stop." Castiel's plea was soft with the words drawn long enough for the hunter to turn his head. "I have never hated you. I've hurt for you, but never ever hated."

"Geez," Dean hissed. What was he meant to say to that?

"I have existed for eons." Castiel continued.

Dean winced and remembered to watch the road again. The only benefit to the awkwardness of pointing out their galactic sized age difference was that the anger was fading with the distraction.

"Millennia of guarding heaven, who knows how many visits to Naomi, watching this planet, until finally my garrison led an assault into hell and I tucked the most exquisite human soul under my wing," Castiel raised his palm to halt anticipated words of self-depreciation from the stunned hunter. "But it was not until I grew to know you, admire you, and cherish you that I understood what love is."

Dean managed a broken vocalised "Cas."

Years of being at the wheel in times of crisis helped him to make the turn to the bunker. At the narrowed end of the track, the Impala's engine idled. Dean's fingers could not find the ignition key, because they had more urgently popped his seat belt, sought Castiel's shoulder, yanked the angel towards him, wrapped into that dark mussed hair and cradled his skull as Dean spoke his reply through action. He needed this. Needed Castiel. Needed. Loved.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSSPN+++++++++++++++++++++++

Author's Note

The song Dean thinks of is Yusuf Islam/Cat Stevens – Father and Son "settle down, if you want you can marry Look at me, I am old, but I'm happy All the times that I cried, keeping all the things I knew inside It's hard, but it's harder to ignore it" = The lyrics Dean is thinking of

"From the moment I could talk I was ordered to listen" - Makes me think of John and Dean, and of Castiel as a garrison angel.