Another long overdue chapter; another humble apology. I'm sorry. I'm useless, I know.
Your patience and recognition really mean everything to me. Thank you so much. To make up for it, at least in part, this chapter's an extra long one at 5058 words. x

They'd watched 'The Untouchables,' at Dean's insistence - "Cas, I gotta tell you 'Untouchables' is like one of my favorite movies ever. I must've seen it like fifty times." After ten minutes of fighting over the remote and five spent channel flicking, they had landed on the Discovery Channel and stayed there - again, at Dean's insistence. Dean had shot Cas a look of pure exasperation when he'd questioned his choice. "Shark Week, man. How do you not watch this?" He shook his head as if Cas had let him down on a personal level. "Whole week of sharks!" Cas frowned, tipping his head to the side to peer at Dean in bewilderment as he turned back to the screen. "But... I don't understand. Why sharks?" he asked. "That, my friend," Dean replied cryptically, reaching out to ruffle his hair, "is what you're about to find out."

Cas could barely breathe from laughing at the running commentary Dean kept up throughout the next two hours. Dean had long since stopped watching the screen, preferring to watch the boy next to him; to marvel at the way Cas's entire countenance lit up when he laughed. "Come on Cas, it wasn't that funny," he protested, to no avail. Cas continued to laugh even after Dean turned off the TV and chucked a cushion at his head. Castiel caught it with ease and didn't hesitate before lobbing it right back at him, hard. Dean ducked and feigned mock outrage. "Wow Cas, this the way you treat all your guests? Rude." Cue another cushion hurled at his head, this one missing Dean's left ear narrowly enough for him to concede, palms spread out in front of him. "Okay, Jesus! Fine, you win, alright?" Cas smiled smugly and got to his feet. "Yes Dean, that's fine by me." He strode across the room to where the cushion lay and bent to pick it up, swooping down in one elegant movement. Dean watched the denim jeans pull taut against Cas's ass, and shifted uncomfortably as he felt the resultant, inevitable consequence hardening in his own jeans.

As Cas made to turn back, Dean panicked and grabbed another cushion, placing it quickly - and discreetly, he hoped - in his lap. Thankfully, Cas didn't seem to notice, too busy bemoaning Shark Week. "I still don't understand your fascination with sharks, Dean," he sighed as he turned around. "I don't know which show I hated more, 'Sharkpocolypse' or 'Great White Serial Killer'." Dean blushed and shot a glare at his smirking friend. "Dick," he grumbled affectionately. "Assbut," Cas returned smoothly, with enviable composure.

Dean paused at that, screwing up his face in distaste. "Assbut?"

Cas hesitated too, tilting his head in brief consideration before shrugging unapologetically and tossing the displaced cushion back onto the couch beside Dean. "Yeah, why not? I like it," he rationalized. Dean shook his head and looked incredulously at his friend. "Hey Cas?" he called softly as Cas made towards the door. He stopped in the doorframe and looked back over his shoulder with a patient smile. "Yes, Dean?"

Dean took a deep breath.

"Just... don't ever change."

Cas's eyes warmed at that. He smiled at Dean fondly, blushed, and looked demurely down at the floor. "Bathroom," he mouthed, heading out of the living room. Dean took a moment to watch him lope away, feeling his heart flutter at Cas's bashful response. He sat there grinning to himself like an idiot for a full thirty seconds before he realized he was doing it. Feeling awkward and looking for a distraction, Dean decided to check his phone. He swiped the screen and noticed a text from Ash.

Dr Badass: Winchester, you coming or what? party's started (Received 19:03)

He typed out his reply and hit send.

Me: Yeah, me and Cas are gonna head on over in a bit. (Sent 19:09)

Cas grimaced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

His hair had become an irreparable mess since Dean had ruffled it. He realized he'd spent the last two hours looking completely deranged, and anything but attractive. He snorted scornfully at the thought as it passed through his mind. Who was he kidding? He was completely deranged. It wasn't like his hair was giving off the wrong impression. Castiel crossed over to the window and pulled a pill bottle out from behind the draped silk curtains - one of the numerous hiding places he had scattered around the house. He walked back to the sink and uncapped the container, shaking two of the orange capsules out into his right hand. He hesitated momentarily, glancing back into the mirror as if searching it for answers; looking for a way out.

"Don't ever change."

Dean's unsuspecting words throbbed painfully inside his head, doing more harm than good regardless of Dean's intentions. Castiel's grimace turned into a venomous glare and his hand formed a tight fist around the capsules. All he could see was his own neurotic reflection staring back at him. "I hate you," he spat viciously into the mirror before knocking back the pills, replacing the bottle and slamming the door on his way out.

"You still up for this party?" Dean asked Castiel as he re-entered the room. "We can skip it if you want." Honestly, Dean was kind of hoping Cas wouldn't want to go. He liked having the other boy all to himself, much more than he had any right to. "No, let's check it out," Cas said. "Free drinks, right?" He tipped his head back, inclining it towards the door, and Dean stood up and followed him through to the kitchen.

Dean paused at the sight that met him upon entering the room. Castiel was standing motionless in the middle. He was staring unseeingly out of the huge windows, deep blue eyes dark and stormy. Dean frowned and opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but before he could do so Cas seemed to notice his presence, straightening and turning to face him with a genuine smile on his face. "What do you want to eat?"

"Uhh, whatever you're having is great, thanks Cas," Dean replied, masking his disquiet. Cas nodded, darting around the kitchen and collecting ingredients. A minute later, he presented Dean with a plate and grabbed an identical one of his own, jumping up to sit on the counter with his long legs swinging off the edge. Dean sat down beside him, groaning around his first mouthful. "Cas, this is one hell of a sandwich." Cas smiled weakly, picking at his own food without much enthusiasm. "I'm glad you like it," he admitted.

Dean eyed him, pausing mid-bite to ask "Aren't you eating that?"

Cas shrugged. "I'm not very hungry," he said simply.

Dean hid a worried frown behind another mouthful. How was Cas even functioning? He was literally running on fumes - all Dean had seen him eat all day was a couple of fries and the salad out of his sandwich. Wasn't smoking pot supposed to give you the munchies?

Dean finished his food, and before he could protest, Cas had swept away his plate and begun to wash it. "I got Chuck to text me the address," he told Dean, blatantly changing the subject as he placed the clean plate on the draining board. "It's only a couple of streets away. You can leave the Impala outside and just crash here afterwards if you want," he offered, wiping his damp hands on his jeans. Dean attempted to contain his excitement at the prospect of spending the night - however platonically - with Cas. "Awesome."

The walk only took fifteen minutes. It should have taken five, but Castiel kept stopping to gaze up at the stars. The two of them approached Bela Talbot's house, - 'Jo was right,' Dean thought, frowning up at the intimidating property, 'it really is a mansion,' - and followed a group of girls in through the front door.

The inside of the house, huge as it was, was still extremely crowded. People were crammed into every available space, pressed right up against each other, and from the looks of things they'd be packed just as tightly into the rest of the place too. There was music pounding loudly throughout the downstairs, the heavy bass shaking the floor underfoot. Dean nudged Cas gently and gestured towards a door at the back of the room, from where people seemed to be emerging with alcohol. Cas nodded, and together the boys began to weave their way across the makeshift dancefloor with Dean in the lead, stepping awkwardly around the couples who were too busy making out to shift aside.

"Dean!"

They both halted, looking around for the source of the shout. Lisa Braeden materialized behind them, pushing gently but firmly between the two boys and curling her wrist around Dean's bicep. "There you are," she purred, smiling and pouting her lips. She was wearing a short red dress that caused Dean to look her up and down and whistle appreciatively. "Lookin' good, Lise." Cas caught himself glaring between them. He quickly schooled his features into an expression of polite disinterest as Lisa turned her head towards him with the exact same look on her face.

Cas remembered the night he'd spent with her almost a year before. It had been rushed and almost silent; her parents sleeping in the next room. Cas had scaled the tree outside her bedroom window as soon as she'd fallen asleep, and accidentally-on-purpose lost (alright, binned) her number. Lisa had been bitter about it ever since, and Cas couldn't say he blamed her.

"Castiel,' she greeted coolly.

Cas glanced at her indifferently before looking away. "Lisa." Lisa shot him an icy glare and turned her attention back to Dean. "I'm so glad you finally showed up, Dean. Don't you know it's rude to keep a girl waiting?" Dean shifted awkwardly, pulling his arm from Lisa's grip. "Well, I'm here now," he answered tiredly, trying not to sound too sarcastic. "I know," Lisa replied, "and I plan on taking full advantage of the fact." Dean winked at her for the appearance's sake, but his heart wasn't in it. He knew, without a doubt, that the one he truly wanted was standing right behind him. "So, you want to dance?" Lisa asked, batting her mascara-coated lashes. Dean shrugged, rubbing the the back of his neck to hide his reluctance. "Uhh... maybe in a bit. We were just gonna grab some drinks first, take a look around," he replied absently. "Right, Cas?"

"Cas?"

Dean looked over his shoulder for his friend, heart sinking as he found only an empty space where Cas had been moments before. "Huh," he said, turning back to Lisa. "Guess he was thirsty or something."

Cas was in Bela's kitchen, approaching the counter which was laden with alcohol. He was already annoyed at himself for disappearing on Dean and Lisa. It was just hard for him to watch Dean flirting with her so openly... though Cas knew he'd have to get used to it if he was going to be Dean's friend. 'That's all it can ever be; friendship. So take it or leave it, Castiel,' he told himself sternly. He eyed the selection of drinks carefully before deciding on an El Sol beer for Dean, knowing it was his favorite. "You should see the chick on those ads, man... she's my dream girl. Carmen or something." Cas ignored the twinge he felt in his chest at the reminder of Dean's heterosexuality. It was only an echo of the one he'd gotten when Dean had actually phrased it out loud.

He poured a generous measure of vodka into a paper cup and downed the whole thing before anyone else could see what he was doing. He then grabbed another beer, this one for himself, and headed back towards where he'd left Dean. He made his way through the crowd, taking a deep breath and mentally preparing himself to get through the party and just ignore Dean's incessant flirting.

Castiel stepped back into the living room, and stopped dead.

Dean had his tongue down Lisa's throat.

The room was spinning. There was no air; no sound... just Dean, Lisa, and Castiel standing unnoticed on the periphery. Fighting the urge to vomit, Cas turned and shoved desperately back through the crowd, retracing his steps. He didn't know exactly where he was going, just that he needed to get out, to go, or else he'd break.

Someone called out to him as he dashed past. Cas felt a hand on his shoulder, but he threw it off and made for the back door without breaking his stride. As he walked, he downed both the beers he was still holding, barely even stopping to breathe. Passing the drinks table again on the way out, he swapped the empty beer cans for a bottle of whisky. Cas stumbled out into the back garden and fell back against the wall, ignoring the concerned looks people were shooting his way. He could feel an attack coming on. 'Fucking perfect,' he thought bitterly. With his fumbling, shaking hands, Castiel managed to open the whisky bottle. He tossed the lid onto the ground, brought the bottle to his lips and began to drink, forcing the alcohol down his throat and pretending not to feel the tears running down his face.

"Dean!" Dean surfaced at the sound of his name, finally breaking away from Lisa. He let go of her and turned to face Charlie Bradbury, who was standing behind him looking incredibly worried. "Hey, Charlie. What's up?" Charlie licked her lips, wringing her hands nervously. "Have you seen Castiel?" she asked. "Apparently you two came here together?"

"No," Dean replied, shaking his head. "We did, but he disappeared on me a while back. Why?"

Charlie let out a noise of pure frustration. "Dammit! You're sure, Dean? You don't have any idea where he is?" She pushed her long red hair back out of her face roughly, impatiently, chewing on her lower lip. "No," Dean reiterated, an inexplicable dread beginning to rise in his stomach. "Charlie, what is it? What's wrong?" Charlie hesitated, blinking rapidly in an effort to conceal the tears welling in her eyes... tears which Dean noticed with alarm.

"Charlie?"

She took a deep breath and began to explain. "I'm really worried about him, Dean. Balthazar asked me to keep an eye on him, he said he's been really down lately - even more so than usual, which is saying something... and now he's just gone, and I don't know where to look! Ash told me Castiel looked really upset, I mean he practically ran from the place and blew him off on the way out. He's not answering his phone, no-one's seen him..." Charlie took another breath, trying to calm herself down. When she continued, her voice was shaking and betraying her panic. Dean had to lean in close to hear her over the pounding bass. "Dean, Castiel is... he's volatile. He does things when he gets upset, dangerous, stupid things, and I... oh god, anything could have happened to him! I'm a shitty friend, what if-"

"- Charlie!" Dean put his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently, keeping her attention focused on him. "Hey, calm down. You're not a shitty friend, alright? Listen to me. Cas is gonna be okay. We're gonna find him." He held her gaze firmly, waiting for the message to sink in. Charlie hesitated for a beat, then wiped her eyes and nodded. "Okay. We'll find him."

Dean smiled at her encouragingly. "That's my girl. Come on, let's go."

"Dean," Lisa interjected, but he waved her off without a backwards glance. "Not right now, Lisa." He walked away with Charlie in tow, both of them looking over the tops of people's heads, scanning the huge entry hall for a sign of Castiel.

"Dean, Charlie!" Meg Masters dashed into the room and grabbed Charlie's wrist, beckoning for Dean to follow them as she hurried back out, long black curls flying out behind her as she called, "Come with me! It's Castiel!" They shared a worried look and hastened after her. Meg led them through the kitchen, out of the double doors at the back of the house. As they exited the building and the volume of the music decreased, Dean was able to make out what she was saying. "He's freaking out. It's bad; really bad, I haven't seen him like this in a while. Whatever he took really backfired on him," she said as they rounded the corner of the house and met with the back of a large crowd.

"Excuse me... outta the way! Move!" Dean growled, losing patience fast as he and the two girls pushed his way through the gathered crowd, ignoring their muttered complaints.

Cas was sitting on the ground in the corner of the smoking patio. He was curled up with his knees against his chest and his head in his hands, shivering violently and muttering under his breath. Dean dropped to his knees in front of him and took on a protective stance, shielding him from the spectators' view. "Cas," he murmured softly, taking care to keep his voice low and soothing. "It's okay, buddy, you're okay." He placed a reassuring arm around Cas's shoulders as he raised his head. "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

Cas trembled as he spoke. "Demons." When he met Dean's eyes his own were wide with terror. "Their eyes are black, Dean, how can you not see them?!"

Dean closed his eyes. This was bad. Really bad. What the hell had Cas taken? Dean could feel panic spiking in his chest, but he pushed it down, knowing he had to stay calm a little longer for Cas's sake.

"Cas, there's nobody there, okay? You're alright; you're safe. You're just having a bad trip, man, that's all, I swear."

Cas grabbed the front of Dean's shirt and shook his head frantically. "No, Dean, you don't understand! My wings are burning!" He let go of Dean and slipped into a bout of hysterical laughter, clawing frantically at his own skin and leaving thin trails of blood running across his neck. Dean grabbed his wrists in horror and tried to restrain him. Cas's laughter only increased in its intensity. "Just go, Dean. Leave me here! It's no less than I deserve."

Charlie let out a muffled sob.

Dean's jaw tightened in anger at Cas's words. Why did he have such a low opinion of himself? "Nuh-uh, Cas. You can say whatever you like, but the one thing I am not gonna do is leave you alone right now." He shook his head and released Cas's wrists tentatively. "Just chill out and come with me, buddy. Let's get you home."

"No," Cas replied, pushing him away feebly. "You're not real."

Dean shook his head, at a complete loss. "I... don't know what to tell you, Cas. I'm real. I'm right here with you. C'mon, snap out of it, man."

"No, you're not. You're a skinwalker."

"Cas, I - wait, a what?"

"Or maybe you're possessed..." Cas continued, sounding fascinated as he leaned in towards Dean and grinned manically. "Meg, is that you in there?" Dean shot a puzzled look back over his shoulder at Meg, who was standing next to Charlie at the front of the crowd. She looked back at him in utter bewilderment and shrugged, so Dean turned back to Castiel with a frown. "No! Cas, it's me."

Cas just looked at him dubiously.

Dean rolled his eyes. "My name is Dean Winchester. I'm seventeen years old, the same as you. I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and classic rock. I drive a 1967 Chevy Impala and have an annoying kid brother called Sam - Sammy for short. I'm your friend."

Cas's expression began to clear, but there was still some doubt in his eyes. "... Dean? What's happening?"

Acting out of desperation, Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and squeezed it tightly, hard enough to hurt. "You feel this, Cas?" Cas closed his eyes, trying to ground himself in the sensation. He squeezed back and nodded, releasing a shaky breath. "Well, that's my hand right there. I'm real, Cas; one hundred percent. Believe in that. Believe me, okay?" Dean's voice hardened as he looked Cas right in the eye and demanded, "You gotta believe me." He squeezed Cas's hand again, emphatically. "You gotta make it stone number one and build on it. You understand?" Again, Cas nodded silently. "Cas? I need you to answer me, bud," Dean prompted. "You with me?"

"I'm with you," Cas whispered in reply.

Dean tipped Castiel's chin up with his free hand, forcing him to maintain eye contact as he held his gaze. He didn't even blink, just stared into blue intently until Cas's breathing began to calm and the hand Dean was still holding slackened in his grasp. "There you are," Dean murmured softly, swallowing his relief. He used the lull to look his friend over, pressing the back of his hand to Cas's forehead and trying to gauge his temperature. He took his pulse and dabbed ineffectually at the cuts Cas had made on his own skin. Cas's skin was warm to the touch, despite the cool night time temperature, and his pulse was thudding rapidly. The cuts, thankfully, weren't all that deep, but they were jagged and bloody all the same. Dean sighed heavily and sat back on his haunches. "Alright, Cas. Looks like you'll live. Come on, I'll take you home."

"Home?"

"Yeah, Cas. Home. I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? You're gonna be fine, you'll see." Dean stood up slowly and hauled the shaking boy to his feet, placing an arm around his waist to hold him upright. "Alright, easy does it, Cas. I got you." Ash came forward, peering worriedly at Castiel, his face set in uncharacteristic seriousness. "I'll drive you there."

"Message me later, let me know Castiel's alright," Ash reminded Dean as he rang the Novak's doorbell for him. Dean's hands were full, as he was supporting nearly all of Cas's body weight - worryingly insubstantial as it was - and holding him upright against his own body. Cas had passed out in the car, the bad trip having taken most of his energy with it. "I'll pass it on to the others," Ash continued. Dean nodded and gave him a tight smile. "Thanks, man." Ash clapped him on the shoulder and got back in his car to go.

The front door swung open almost immediately, revealing a young man with a wild, frantic look in his eyes and exactly the same chaotic sweep of black hair as Castiel. Dean guessed that this must be Michael. Michael's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. "Jesus, Cassie..." he moaned. He pulled the door open and stood aside for Dean to enter the house, navigating carefully to account for Castiel's state of unconsciousness.

"Here, let's get him upstairs," Michael suggested, taking Cas's other side. Together, they carried the unnaturally light boy up the staircase and into his bedroom, where they laid him down carefully on the bed. Michael bent immediately over his still frame, anxiously checking his vitals, pulling up his eyelids to see how dilated his pupils were and rolling him gently onto his side. "Do you know what he took?" he asked Dean urgently. Michael didn't have to ask if Cas had been drinking, as he was overpowered by the smell of whisky that was clinging to his little brother's clothes and hair.

"I'm not sure, but I'm thinking shrooms or LSD," Dean answered. "He was delirious; I mean he was hallucinating, freaking out... shaking... the works. Looked like a bad trip to me - a really bad trip. I tried to calm him down..."

Michael nodded, looking serious but unsurprised. "Stage four psychedelic experience. That would explain it."

Dean returned the nod grimly and waited by the door, watching quietly as Cas's big brother took care of him. Once Michael was satisfied, he tucked the covers over Cas and stroked his hair back lovingly. The two men quietly left the room, and Michael closed the door before turning to Dean with a tired smile. He sighed and ran a hand though his hair in a gesture made him look so completely - so eerily - like Cas, that Dean had to avert his eyes.

"Thank you so much for bringing him home..." he trailed off. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name?"

"Dean. Dean Winchester," Dean replied, stretching out his hand for Michael to take. Michael smiled again as he shook the offered hand. "Dean. I'm Michael, Castiel's brother," he returned. "I'm so - god, I'm so sorry about all of this. I really can't thank you enough for taking care of my brother." Dean waved him off. "Don't thank me, man. I got a little brother too. I'm sorry I wasn't there - to stop Cas taking whatever he did. But he's my friend. 'Course I'll always take care of him." Michael looked at him with something akin to wonder. "He's very lucky to have a friend like you." Dean looked away and shrugged uncomfortably. 'If I was a better friend I'd have been there for him.'

He followed Michael downstairs to the kitchen, where he gestured for Dean to seat himself at the counter as he pulled two mugs from the cabinet to make them both some coffee. A minute later, Michael placed a steaming mug on the counter for Dean and sat down beside him with his own.

"Thanks, man," Dean said gratefully, taking a deep sip and closing his eyes in relief. Michael shot him an amused look and replied "It's only coffee, no trouble at all." The two of them sat there quietly, sipping their drinks in companionable silence. "Hey... uhh, Mike?" Dean began suddenly. Michael looked across at him, patiently waiting for him to continue. "Is Cas gonna be okay?" Dean asked him quietly. "You don't think we should have taken him to the hospital?" Michael put down his mug and looked at him thoughtfully. "What was it you called him? Cas?"

Dean nodded mutely.

"I might adopt that if it's alright with you, I don't know why we didn't think of it sooner. Well, Cas is... he's troubled. I wish I could say I wasn't speaking from experience, but this is hardly the first time something like this has happened. They wouldn't have been able to do anything for him - not for what a bad trip. I'm not condoning Cassie's behavior in any way, but the hospital would undoubtedly involve the police, and that would be a very bad idea. Inevitably, our parents would then find out about the way Cas's been acting, which would be disastrous... judging by past events." Michael's face darkened as he remembered the last time he'd seen his twin brother. He shook the memory off and returned to the present. "Of course, if he was in any real danger I wouldn't hesitate to get him help... but this kind of thing? Well. It's a common occurrence with him."

"Your parents don't know?"

"No. I've always handled Castiel's legal issues through the law firm where I work. I'm incredibly lucky to have the connections that I do. And Sheriff Mills has been extremely lenient with him, so all in all his misdemeanors haven't been that hard to cover up." Michael shook his head sadly. "I'm trying to sort him out, really I am, but Castiel insists on fighting me every step of the way. I just want him to be safe. I just want my little brother to be happy again."

"You love him a lot."

Michael looked up, surprised. "Yes. I love all my brothers, and my sister; immensely. But Cassie... well. More than anything."

"Well, I can relate," Dean admitted. "Like I said, I got a kid brother too. You know what's best for Cas. You don't have to explain yourself to me, man."

The corners of Michael's mouth twitched upwards in a grateful smile. "Thank you, Dean. That... means a lot." He cleared his throat and glanced at the clock, turning back to Dean with an apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize how late it had gotten. You must be exhausted. You're welcome to stay in Castiel's room, or I can make you up a bed in one of the guest rooms if you'd prefer?"

"I'll just crash with Cas, if that's okay," Dean said. "I want to keep an eye on him."

Michael smiled at him warmly. "Of course, that's absolutely fine. Please help yourself to some of Cassie's clothes to sleep in." Dean nodded as he got to his feet. "Night, Mike."

"Goodnight, Dean."

Dean left the kitchen and climbed the stairs towards Cas's bedroom. Dean closed the door gently behind him and took off his shoes, socks and jeans, opting to sleep in just his boxers. Moving slowly so as not to disturb his sleeping friend, he opened the wardrobe and rummaged carefully around inside, managing to find one of Cas's soft, faded gray t-shirts to sleep in. He swapped it for the one he was wearing and left his own clothes in a neat pile on the floor by the bed.

Dean slipped under the covers and lay down carefully beside Castiel. His companion was lying curled up tightly on his side with his back to Dean. He kept moving his head restlessly and whimpering in his sleep. Dean pushed aside any hesitance caused by his feelings for the other boy, and wrapped his arms firmly around Castiel's waist. Cas needed a friend right now, and dammit if Dean was about to let any of his own selfish masculinity bullshit get in the way of his being there for him. Not when Cas was fast becoming one of the best friends he's ever had. Something about their relationship had just clicked. It came naturally, almost like they had some sort of bond. If Dean had been one of those sappy, overly romantic types, he might even have said it was profound.

But he wasn't.

So instead he pulled Cas back against his chest, held him tight, and pressed a gentle kiss into his soft, dark hair. "I'm here, Cas. It's okay, I'm right here."

If you're getting bored of waiting for the Destiel to heat up over here;), check out my new one shot, 'My Angel'. Gotta warn you, it's basically just shamelessly romantic porn, set in endverse. x

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