TWENTY

Something about the way he said "I love you" indicated to me that he meant "I'm in love with you."

There was no way of mistaking it. I've watched many humans say that small, meaningful phrase so often that I learned that it could mean different things based on how it is said.

Some say it out of breath after predicament, meaning "thank you." Some say it goofily, meaning "you won't regret it." Some say it in a way that means "you're my friend and I'd never intentionally hurt you."

But it's most prominent meaning is "I'm in love with you."

But how does one answer, "I love you"? I've seen varied answers: "I love you too" is what is heard the most.

But what do one say when they are unsure if they are in love with the one who is in love with them?

"Night, Cas," Dean said, walking past me to the door. The lock clicks behind him and I see him head to his and Sam's room.

My mind is spinning. I feel obligated to give Dean an answer. But I don't know what my answer is. Warnings flash in the back of my head and yet…

I don't care. I remove my trench coat, leaving it on the chair. I sit at the edge of the bed and think. My father's followers have been known to be adamantly against relationships of certain caliber, such as what my relationship with Dean may progress to.

Still, my own take is indifference to sexual orientation.

And yet again, I find myself wondering, why me? There are several things that could have happened between me and Dean that led to those words.

I pulled him out of Hell.

That couldn't be it.

He didn't even know it was me then.

But what about since we met for the first time three years ago? No. Maybe in less time than that. Since he was pulled back into the Hunter's World?

Yet he was violently against it until now. Why?

Crowley and Sam both forced us into these roles, whatever they may be.

I should be furious.

Shouldn't I?

But I'm not. They knew before Dean did. Before I did.

Finally, I am able to name the emotions I'm feeling:

Relief from a fear I didn't know I felt. Happiness for an emotion I didn't know I had.

As Dean Winchester is in love with me, I am in love with Dean Winchester.

I glance outside at the dark night sky, lit only by lampposts, and I ponder.

Do I tell him now? Would Dean be asleep or would he be awake? If he's asleep, do I wait until morning to tell him I am in love with him?

I feel the moment has passed and slipped out of my fingers. It will have to wait until another opportune time arose.

"How are you doing, Castiel?"

I turn toward the voice. My Brother is leaning against one of the walls.

"Why are you here?"

"To see how you're doing. Why ought I not see how one of my sons are?"

"You never dared."

"Angels have never been human before. Not without severing themselves from their grace first."

"You are all knowing," I say. I am afraid, but I have to know the truth: "Have you come to condemn me?"

"Condemn you?" My Brother sounds horrified. "That is not why I am here. I am not responsible for what prophets think. I give them a standard of what to write. They get everything down, that's what counts. If it was possible for my books to be without opinion, they'd be easier to follow. But humans are opinionated and the opinions of others have been misleading and directs other humans to take on hostile actions I disapprove of. My message and my command to all of my children, angels and humans, has always been love."

"If you are not here to condemn me, why are you here?"

"How is it that one of my most faithful angels fell so hard and forgot who I am?"

"I did not forget. You were not around."

"You forgot. And I was around. I still am." My Brother stares at me intently. "Castiel, is this about Dinah? Or is it about Dean?"

I stand and stride over to My Brother, seizing the knife. I pin him to the wall, the knife to his throat. I know I can't kill him. He has transcended death.

Yet He had no right. None! No one had dared mention Dinah to me in millennia.

"You were the one who gave the order to kill them! You killed her!"

My Brother did not move at all. He displayed no fear, though I sensed remorse. "I know you loved her, Castiel. I am sorry for having brought up a painful memory. I promise you it will not happen again. If you wish to be with Dean, I will allow it so long as you are human. It is a fairer option than before."

My Bother gently pushed me back, but I felt as though I had been forced by a great gust of wind.

"Good luck with the Emere. You'll need it."

He vanished, leaving me to let the anger within me simmer.

TWENTY-ONE

The morning came faster than I had expected. I woke to a car honking. I got out of bed and looked outside. Dean honked the car horn again, a mischievous grin on his face.

I groan and get dressed, still slightly groggy. I barely slept. I leave the room and slide into the back seat.

"Why is he so happy?" I ask Sam.

Sam shrugged. "How'd last night's summoning go?"

"Well enough," I say. Dean would not want to prove Sam right. At least not right away. Especially if it was Crowley who made us face the truth.

"And?" Sam pressed on.

"And what?"

"Is Crowley after Sarah?"

"Sarah?"

"The Emere."

"Oh. No, he's not after her. She tricked us. It happens. Which means we're dealing with something else."

Sam nodded his head. "Now was that so hard to say, Dean?"

"I said I'd tell you after we ate. I'm starving!"

"Do you always think with your stomach?"

"Don't deny it," Dean said, "you do it too. So does Cas."

"No I don't." I don't. Stomachs are incapable of thinking. I thought that was rather obvious.

"Cas," Dean said, "We are human. We are men. We think with our stomachs—especially when our stomachs are empty."

Sam sighed. "That was a bad argument."

"That's because it's not an argument. It's a fact."

"Sam," I mutter, "Dean's too happy. I don't think I've felt fear of this caliber before." Dean burst out laughing. Sam was trying hard to laugh also, but failed miserably.

I don't understand what I said that is so funny. Yet the brothers keep laughing as we pulled into the café parking lot.

The brothers are still laughing when I exit the car, though calming down. I knock on Dean's window and give them a rude gesture with my finger. They start laughing again. I let them calm down again, entering the café.

Mrs. Carter is at the register, talking to a young girl, dressed in ragged jeans and a soft blue blouse. For a moment, I double take.

I'm imagining things and dismiss what I thought I saw. I take a seat at one of the booths. Another waitress comes and offers me coffee, which I take. Anything to wake up.

Sam and Dean join me after a moment. They're still smiling, but otherwise much calmer than before.

"Sorry, Cas," Sam said, "We shouldn't have laughed."

"I'm just in a good mood, where's the weird in that?" Dean asked.

I don't elaborate. The waitress returns and hands them menus. The girl who was talking to Mrs. Carter comes up to our table.

"Did you do as I ask?" She demanded, her yellow pony tail draping over her shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

"Did you get rid of the King of Hell?" We stare at the girl, perplexed at her daring. "You didn't, did you? What kind of hunters do you call yourself? And you," she turns on me. I pick up my coffee. "Why didn't you make sure that they did the job I gave them?"

"Miss Carter," I say setting the cup down. "You're in no position to give us any orders. Just tell us who is after you."

"The king of hell."

"It's not him. We checked," Dean said. "He didn't even know you were here. Nor is he interested in you."

"So I wanted you to get rid of him. Who wouldn't? Now he does know. He might come after me now thanks to you!"

"Who is really after you, Sarah?" Sam asked. "Your mother mentioned people from Las Vegas."

"They were the real deal. My dad tried to get a contract with them without my mom knowing about it. She thought it was a stunt."

"So you're not in any danger?"

"Not yet. But I might be now."

Sam wrote down something on a napkin. "If you are in danger, real danger, you can call that number and we'll come help. But Sarah, we're not going to stay if there's no case."

"Caleb said you'd say that."

I almost choked on the coffee. "What did you say?" I demanded. I could feel my blood freeze.

"Caleb," she said. "The Emere inside me is named Caleb."

*sigh* Dinah and Caleb. Yes. Cas knows them. It was something that just came out when I wrote this chapter. It wasn't supposed to happen, but it did and I decided to go with it anyway...you'll see why later.