The snow blowing across the road in front of the Impala's headlights looked like ocean waves receding from a beach. Dean was thankful the old car's body was so heavy as it banked through another snowdrift. The whole town would be snowed in by morning. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he thought about Cas's little car trying to ford through this storm. Most of the streets were deserted other than the occasional snowplow, attempting to keep the streets somewhat passable.

Finally, he pulled into Cas's parking lot and let the engine idle as he scanned the snow covered, parked cars for Cas's. The worry that had been growing in the back of his mind grew as he realized that Cas's car wasn't in the lot and his apartment windows were dark. Dean carefully turned and backed out of the lot, slowly pulled back onto the road, and tried to think about where Cas would be.

He didn't know how to contact Meg or Balthazar, Cas's only close friends in town, and he knew most businesses in town would have closed down with the threat of the worsening road conditions so it wasn't like Cas would be in a bar somewhere complaining to a bartender about how big of an asshole Dean was. Dean's mouth set into a grim line as he decided Cas might have tried to continue his trip up to see him family.

Well, he thought with a sigh, only one way to find out. He turned the Impala and started to navigate his way through the drifting roads towards the highway.

XXXXXXXXX

After an hour of driving at a crawling pace through near white-out conditions, Dean was sick with worry. He had called Sam before leaving town and told him to keep calling Cas's phone until he answered and then to call him as soon as he knew where Cas was. Sam hadn't called back yet. The radio had just ran an emergency announcement saying that the state department of transportation had closed all roads until morning.

Dean had to get off of the highway at the next exit and he still didn't know where Cas was. Just as he was about to turn onto the exit and hope for a truckstop or roadside motel where he could spend the night and hopefully call everyone he knew and try to track down Cas, Dean saw the muted glow of hazard lights blinking through a layer of built up snow on the back of a small car. The car appeared to have spun off the roadway onto the shoulder and had gotten stuck in a bank of snow.

Dean pulled his car as quickly as he could onto the shoulder and threw open the door, before jumping out and running back to the little car. As soon as he noticed it was the same blue as Cas's, his heart lurched in his chest and he starting muttering under his breath, "Holy shit, Cas. You stupid fucking idiot. What the hell were you thinking driving out in this?"

He scraped his hand over the driver's side window and looked into the car, heart sinking further when he realized Cas wasn't in the car. He tried to pull the handle and the car was locked. Dean stood up and ran both hands anxiously through his hair, spinning in a circle and taking in the stretch of deserted highway the ran endlessly before and after him. His jaw tightened, green eyes wide and frightened as he looked around the car for footprints, but the snow was falling at such a pace, and marks would disappear quickly. The car's hood had cooled, indicating Cas had left the vehicle some time ago. Just as Dean was about to grab his cell phone from the dash of the Impala and call the sheriff's department, he saw headlights approaching from behind him.

A black SUV with a state police emblem pulled up alongside him, the window rolled down, and a female voice called out to him,

"You having some trouble, sir?" A small, dark haired woman in sheriff's uniform leaned over the console and studied his appearance. "These roads have all been closed, we need to get you somewhere safe for the night."

Dean indicated the blue car and fought from sounding panicked, "My boyfriend's not in his car. I've been out looking for him and he isn't answering his phone. I finally found his car but he isn't here."

The sheriff took in the worry on Dean's face and reached for her radio, "Let me call in and see if anyone picked him up earlier. We've been patrolling this road all night. Hopefully someone saw him and helped him earlier."

Dean nodded and heard the words the sheriff didn't say, if Cas had gotten lost in the storm, it was unlikely he would be able to find shelter this far away from a town before hypothermia set in. The number one rule in this area during storms was not to leave your car during a blizzard.

"What's your boyfriend look like?" The woman asked.

Dean held his hand up even with his eyebrows, "His name is Castiel Milton. He's about this tall, lean, blue eyes, haircut like Clark Kent, dark brown hair, probably looks like he hasn't combed it today. He wears this stupid beige trench coat that doesn't keep him warm enough," Dean's voice cracks, and he continues even though the officer has started calling the description into dispatch, "his nose crinkles when he smiles." Dean's voice trailed off and he walked back to Cas's car as they waited for a response.

He shoved more snow off of the window and shielded his hand over his brows as he peered into the dark car. He heard the SUV's door slam and he straightened as footsteps crunched across the icy paved surface towards him.

"A snowplow driver picked your guy up about half an hour ago. He drove him into Redbud," the officer raised a hand and pointed to the exit up ahead. "Take a right once you hit the main road off the exit and go about 6 miles. Tiny little town but there is a little hotel there. That's where he dropped him off."

Dean couldn't fight back the huge smile that spread quickly across his face. "Thank you!" He exclaimed as he ran back to the Impala.

"Stay put for the night once you get there," the sheriff yelled at his retreating back, warningly.

Dean waved a hand in acknowledgement before diving back into his car and carefully navigating her back onto the main part of the highway. The officer's headlights followed him until he reached the exit and he heard her honk as he pulled off the highway onto the ramp.

XXXXXXXXX

The Redbud Inn was a tiny, mom and pop style hotel. The kind that went out of style decades ago but someone had maintained this one nicely. Dean pulled the Impala into the little parking lot and walked into the office. An older man, with a balding head and thick glasses, sat behind the desk watching the news report on the weather on a small television.

"Excuse me, sir," Dean began.

The old man looked over at Dean, as if surprised he wasn't alone in the office.

"Can I help you?" The man asked.

"I'm looking for a guy a that the sheriff's department told me got stranded here earlier." Dean said.

The old man narrowed his eyes and looked at Dean suspiciously. "We don't give out private information about our guests."

"Look, man," Dean said, voice rising with irritation, "his name is Castiel Novak. Call his room and ask him if you can give me his room number. This is important."

The man reached for the phone and shielded the room number he was hiding from Dean as he dialed.

"Dude," Dean muttered under his breath, "there's like ten rooms. I could just start knocking on doors."

After a short inquiry, the man turned back to the news without looking at Dean and said offhandedly, "Room Eight. And keep it quiet, this is a respectable establishment."

Dean choked back a laugh as he shoved his way back through the office door.

XXXXX

Before he could cross the parking lot and reach the door of Room Eight, Cas had opened the door and stood in the entry.

"You scared the absolute shit out of me, Cas." Dean said after he came to a stop in the swirling snow.

Cas stood in the doorway, haloed by the warm yellow light spilling out the room. He was standing in his boxer briefs and a white t-shirt, looking wholly exhausted and like the best thing that Dean had ever seen.

"Don't ever do that to me again," Dean said, unable to keep the trembling out of his voice.

Cas frowned and look back at Dean solemnly. "Why are you here, Dean?" He asked, quietly.

Dean closed his eyes and tilted his head back so that his face was pointing up at the sky, he took a steadying breath before he answered.

"I forgot what you think you saw back at the apartment."

Cas lifted an eyebrow and dryly responded, "What I think I saw?"

"That was Jo," Dean said. "She called me earlier, she got a little messed up at a party and needed a ride home. That's all it was. I know it looked bad, but Cas, I wouldn't do that to you."

Dean hesitated for a moment, when he spoke again, his voice shook, "I fucked up. I woke up this morning and left. And I know, that that was the last thing I should have done. But, I just… I don't know how to say things sometimes. I feel like the feelings get stuck in my throat and try to choke me. I was next to you this morning, while you were asleep, and I was watching you, and it was like it was only a matter of time before you realized you deserve so much better than me. Here you are, this gorgeous, intelligent, kind man and you look at me like I'm something good. Like I can be something more than this guy who works two jobs and never leaves his hometown and probably fixes cars for the rest of his life. No one has ever seen me as more than a good time, Cas, but you look at me and you see something I didn't know was there."

When he was finished, he took a shaky breath and buried his hands in his pockets, before he looked down at his feet and scuffed one foot against the asphalt. He took a step back and sniffed, before meeting Cas's eyes again. "It scares the shit out of me."

Cas stared at him searchingly for a moment before taking Dean's hand in his and stepping back into the hotel room. After closing the door behind them, Cas turned to look at Dean. With an inscrutable look into Dean's eyes, Cas stepped closer and quietly started to remove Dean's coat. Dean waited as Cas hung the coat over the chair near the door. Then, Cas looked down at his boots.

"You'd better take those off. The snow will end up melting all over the room."

Dean quickly obliged.

Then, Cas stepped forward and cradled Dean's face in his hands. After another searching look into Dean's eyes, Cas leaned into Dean's space and placed his warm lips over Dean's freezing cold mouth. The sudden warmth tingled. From the friction of Cas's mouth upon his to the feel of his long cool fingers on Dean's jaw, the warmth hurt almost as much as it soothed.

Dean backed up a fraction before leaning his forehead against Cas's.

"I have a depressive disorder. On my low days, I'm a mess, Cas. There are times when I can't get out of bed and even when I do everything I'm supposed to do, just the effort I have to put into being seems like it's too much. My life isn't like a drug commercial. It isn't just going to be fixed even with the meds. I just want to be honest with you about that before you say anything else."

Cas gently traced his thumbs from the curve of Dean's cheekbones to the ridge of his jaw. He looked into Dean's eyes, his own blue and clear and Dean felt like he was drowning in the love he could see reflected in them.

"I love you Dean. I love all of you. You aren't going to scare me away if you have a bad day, or a bad week, or a bad month, or even a bad year. I. Love. You." He enunciated the last three words deliberately.

Dean didn't let himself look away, even though he wanted to. He wanted to look down and hide his eyes and make a joke about the beds having Magic Fingers or something else equally obnoxious but instead he stared back into Cas's eyes and said in a voice rough with emotion and disbelief, "I love you, too."

Cas smiled tremulously and leaned back into Dean's body, kissing Dean's smiling mouth. They both knew they had a long road ahead of them. There were things they needed to work out, obstacles they would have to overcome, and together, they would.