AN: Wow this took a turn I was not expecting at this juncture (lol, says the girl who thought this would be a 3-4 part story... I clearly give my characters too much free reign). So it ended up longer than I thought this installment would be - which is always a good thing, right? As always, thanks for reading and commenting and sticking with me as I continue to try and finish this story!

He's in a Thomas mood today. Which is probably for the best, because his sister calls him to ask about Thanksgiving.

"Shit, is that next week?"

"Well... today is Sunday. So no, it's actually this week."

"Oh."

She makes a show of giving him shit for losing track of time so badly he didn't even realize the major holiday coming up. With little resistance on his part, she guilts him into agreeing to drive home and spend a long weekend with his family.

That night he wakes up from a wet dream, his boxers soaked and body covered in sweat. The situation is a familiar one to Thomas, even if it has been years. As his hands grope around his nightstand for some tissues, he tries to remember what he was dreaming about.

Muted colors. The smell of dirt and blood. Dean's ever present longing, but so much more intense than it usually is. Prayers that turned from pleas for him to appear to something much more desperate. Promises of things he'll do to him when they're together again...

Purgatory, then.

With a sigh, he tosses the tissues and boxers onto the floor. He'll deal with them in the morning.

This part is not unusual for Cas. His mind indulging in hopes that Dean's longing could change into something more carnal.

He frowns slightly. It seems straight forward, but something about the conclusion rings false. He muddles over the idea of Cas desiring Dean, which is absolutely true. He may not have always understood the exact nature of that desire when he was an angel, but it had been an ever present thing. But through Thomas' eyes he's able to better understand-

Oh.

Oh.

The dual threads of desire, coming from both Castiel and Thomas but centered completely on Dean Winchester, come as somewhat of a shock. Each very distinct. Castiel's desire is something old, coming from the fires of Hell itself. Something forged after years together. It is solid and unbreakable. Not even Falling could strip him of it.

Thomas, on the other hand, harbors a mix of awe and hero worship. Over time with the man, it had evolved into something a little more tender, something that's been there all his life but never in this form. Though perhaps not indestructible, he knows it's not something he'll ever truly be able to shake.

Well then. This might complicate things.

He blushes when Dean groggily stumbles into the kitchen the next morning. All too aware of his dream, it's hard to meet the older man's eyes.

Dean yawns loudly and goes to get some coffee, just a hint of his stomach visible as he stretches.

If possible, he blushes even more before trying to hide behind his box of Fruit Loops. He's in desperate need of a distraction because between his dream and Dean's hip bones too much attention is moving south and oh god he's reacting. Something needs to happen before Dean wakes up enough to notice he's being weird.

Picking apart what he could possibly say, he remembers his brief conversation the previous evening.

"My sister called yesterday-"

A bit of sputtering and choking before a surprised, "You have a sister?"

"Yes?" He squints in confusion before remembering Dean has very much avoided the topic of Thomas' family. It makes him a bit uncertain how much information would no be appropriate, so he decides to stick to the bare minimum and offer Dean the chance to inquire for more if he's interested. "I'm going to be leaving probably first thing tomorrow morning to head back home."

"What?! Why?"

"It's Thanksgiving, and my sister hasn't seen me in a while so she very firmly suggested I come back to visit."

The panic that had flared up for just a second seems to disappear as quickly as it came. But something else replaces it that doesn't look much better. Thomas can't recognize Dean's expression, but Castiel does. Crestfallen is the best way to describe it.

"Yeah, I guess that is coming up..."

Considering he himself had forgotten, it's no surprise Dean seems to have lost track of time. But there's something more to Dean's reaction. Should he push a bit more to find out what's wrong? Is there actually something wrong or is he getting confused with the differing Thomas/Castiel viewpoints?

"I was just, uh," the older man is now blushing slightly and avoiding eye contact. "I thought maybe you'd like to come with me to visit Sam." In a rush he adds, "But I totally understand if you need to visit your family."

Thomas stares at Dean for what must be far too long because he starts to fidget. "Oh," he says dumbly. There are conflicting desires welling up inside of him. Castiel so much wants to see Sam again, make sure things went well for him in the past few decades. Meet his wife and daughter, get to know him again. Yet Thomas also misses his own family - his sister and parents, and likely some extended family who will make an appearance at dinner.

But those seem to cancel out, that longing for loved ones. Instead, it's Thomas' anxiety at the prospect of meeting Sam again that decides it. The idea of being judged by the other Winchester, measured up to Castiel, is overwhelming. And a wife and a daughter and a dog and what Dean might be expecting from all this-

He starts to shut down, worry consuming everything else until Castiel comes to the forefront and starts soothing the younger, human version of himself.

Dean seems to be aware, at least a little, of his internal conflict. He doesn't push for an answer, just lets him muddle through it. Although not explicitly made, Thomas understands the offer Dean has made. And he knows equally well that he cannot accept it.

"I don't think I'll be able to make it out to Sam's."

"Yeah, I figured." There's no bitterness, though. Just acceptance. Thomas is grateful for that.

The trip back home gives him far too much time to think.

Why does he normally identify as Castiel. His Thomas-days are fewer and farther between. It seems especially relevant to think about as drives to spend time with his family.

Perhaps with his proximity to Dean, the part of himself who best knows the Righteous Man can shine through. Maybe with Thomas' family, the young man will reassert himself.

Will there ever be a happy balance between the two? Or will he always be shifting back and forth between them? If he stays too long with Dean or too long with Thomas' family, will the other half of him just disappear?

Oddly enough, all of these possibilities seem dissatisfying.

The theory that the people around him have an influence turns out to be very accurate. There is almost no trace of Castiel while in the presence of Thomas' family. Thomas laughs and catches up with everyone, though is of course vague about his activities. Instead of focusing on where he's staying, he tells stories of the places he's been to. His parents ask how he gets money, but it's easy to deflect with assurances that he had worked enough during college that he has some savings.

Well, it would not be entirely accurate to say that he does not notice Castiel. The angel is usually staying hidden in the background, preoccupying himself with trying to piece together his faded memories or enjoyable listening on in funny stories from Thomas' childhood. But that muted, disconnected feeling disappears occasionally and Castiel steps forward a bit more.

Those times always seem to coincide with that gut-dropping longing Dean still projects. It lost the sour, pained note to it that always felt like the wind was getting knocked out of him. No, that particular nuance of the longing disappeared around the time he admitted he was comfortable being called Cas. Now it has a dull and almost bored quality to it. Acceptance, maybe?

Most of the time it doesn't matter. It's only really pronounced during the night when he's half asleep. And almost constantly throughout Thanksgiving dinner, but at least then his family offers a means of ignoring it.

Though he had only promised a long weekend, his sister and cousins had convinced him to stay until the following Wednesday. He takes his time on the way back, even stopping for a quick solo hunt. (It turns out to be nothing, which is both a relief and a disappointment.) So it's not until Friday that he's back in Lawrence.

Almost the moment he opens the door, he's enveloped in a giant bear hug. He can barely breathe with how hard Dean's squeezing him. Spots start to dot his eyes as he awkwardly tries to reciprocate, barely managing to get his arms around the older man. Not quite able to get them all the way around, he settles for patting his back.

"Fuck, I missed you."

"Yes." It's all he can get out with the little bit of air he's gotten.

Dean seems to notice and relaxes his hold somewhat. Cas is very much aware that this hug tiptoes along the line of what friendship allows. And then it feels like Dean's nuzzling against him, deeply inhaling his smell-

Cas pulls away because there is no part of him that's truly ready to untangle that particular thread of their relationship.

Add it to the list of things they don't talk about.

The reunion moves into the kitchen. Dean's already eaten, but he pulls out a couple beers and reheats some leftovers. They share how their respective family gatherings went. For the first time, Dean actually goes out of his way to ask about Thomas' family. Pleased, the young man gives a full account of everything. In turn, he demands to know about Sam's life.

Hours pass and Cas is amazed by how at home he is. Here, in this little house. Just him and Dean. Feeling guilty, he checks with Thomas and finds that, he too, feels it. Perhaps not as profoundly as Castiel, but it is undeniably there.

One beer turns into two and then five later he's giggling, rosy cheeks giving away his slight inebriation. At least he makes a point of telling himself he's only slightly drunk - it makes him feel better that he's let it happen again in front of Dean. Though, thankfully, Dean's been keeping up with him drink for drink. They end up having to get takeout because neither has the dexterity to cook at the moment.

He watches Dean's hands as he dials the number, watches his lips as he orders, the way he smiles even though the person on the other end can't see it. It's so bad he doesn't even notice he was staring until Dean's hanging up and grinning at him.

He is so totally fucked.

"I missed you too, Dean."

It's unfortunate he has no filter when he's got some alcohol in him.

"Thanks, buddy. Thanksgiving wasn't the same without you."

Quietly picking at his beer label, he shakes his head. Even if it's important, he really doesn't want to see Dean's reaction. "No, I mean... When I was gone. When I was just Thomas. I... I missed you."

Perhaps he's just a touch too drunk to notice how the atmosphere in the small kitchen seems to ignite. The tension is thick in the air and even if they tried, there'd be no way to hide it.

"Thomas... You didn't even know me then." Even if it doesn't sound like it, he knows there's a question there.

"I did." He finally meets Dean's eyes and sees the shock. Frowning, he finds himself needing to correct what he's said. "I mean, I sort of did. I always felt your praying-"

"I didn't pray."

An eye roll. "Yes, you did. Maybe not in so many words, but you most certainly did." Dean doesn't bother refuting. "Often."

Suddenly he feels very very sober as he waits for an answer. Any answer would do, because right now Dean isn't just looking at him, he's looking into him and it's unnerving.

"Do you remember what happened? Twenty three years ago?" Do you remember how I lost Cas?

He swallows heavily, but knows he can't ignore the question now that it's been asked. "Yes," he whispers, hating how small his voice sounds.

At Dean's expectant look, he tells him. About how Heaven had given him an ultimatum. Stay and do as they asked, help put things back together. Be an adviser as they re-built. Not a leader, no, not that again. Or... stay on earth. Permanently. And the only way either side could assure that - make sure Castiel would not try to come back and interfere should he see reason to, make sure the angels would not go back on their word and demand his return later - was for him to become human.

He leaves out the parts where it felt like a supernova exploding inside of him when he tore out his Grace.

When he's finished, he waits. Dean will probably have questions. And through the haze of years gone by, of another life lived, he will try to answer them. But Dean only has one.

"Why?"

It's just so absurd, to hear that word come out of that man's mouth, that he can't help it. He laughs and laughs til he can barely breath. Regaining his composure takes some time. Dean has a pained expression on his face and he realizes that the other man still doubts, even now.

"Why? Dean, I have chosen your cause again and again. Against my own brethren. Why would you think I would not then, too, when given no other choice?"

And to both of their surprise, that's when Dean leans forward and kisses him.