There was a shift in the room as soon as Dean entered. A blanket of calmness took over the anxiety Castiel was feeling due to plenty of strangers knowing about his accident. None of that mattered anymore. The world could say and think whatever it desired, and Castiel would be all right.

Dean stood by Castiel's feet, and his eyes ran down the length of his weary body. Dean looked just about the same. Except for his eyes. They were bloodshot and tired.

"I can't express how good it feels to see you," Castiel said after a beat of silence.

"I didn't want to see you this way," Dean said, stepping around the bed and taking the seat Gabriel had previously occupied. Before Castiel could inquire about his brother, Dean said, "I told your brother he could go get some rest. I'm staying here."

Castiel tried to smile, but he wasn't sure it would look right on his face. He felt so exhausted and his muscles were numb. "Dean, you don't need to do that."

Dean leaned closer, sitting on the edge of the chair. He folded his arms on top of the bed, and his face was inches from Castiel's. "Are you in pain?"

"No," Castiel said. "I believe I'm on morphine. I am tired, though." There was some pain, but Castiel didn't want to worry him.

Dean nodded. "I can imagine." He paused, staring right at him for a long time. "I want to apologize for the way I reacted last time we talked. Not just for last time, but also the time I was drunk. I'm usually drunk nowadays. But I'm not drunk now."

"Dean." Castiel wanted to touch Dean's face, but his good arm felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. "I'm the one who should apologize. I left you and I hurt you in the process. I was only thinking of myself. That was absolutely selfish of me. I should have told you how I felt."

Dean narrowed his eyes, leaning closer.

Castiel closed his eyes, feeling lightheaded. How could he tell him that he'd changed his mind? How could he explain that he'd made a mistake by leaving the only place that had brought him comfort after many years of restlessness?

"You know what I realized today?" Dean's voice was barely above a whisper. "I had a lot of time to think out in that waiting room. I was breaking my head, trying to figure out where to put all this blame. Was it my fault you left, did I push you away? Was it something out of my hands, something I couldn't change? I thought about blaming you for never telling me how you felt, or what you wanted. And I came up with an answer, Cas. We're not going to solve anything with blame. The things that happened, we can't change those, and we can't go back in time. All we have is right now. And I'm so fucking thankful to still have you around, because I honestly don't know what I would have done if I'd really, truly lost you."

Castiel opened his eyes, and Dean's face was closer. Dean brushed some of Castiel's hair away from his face, and pressed his lips to his forehead. It was so sweet, and it left Castiel speechless. What had he ever done to deserve the affections of this man?

"Are you still tired?" Dean asked, sitting back on the chair.

"Not anymore," Castiel said, wondering if he was experiencing a highly vivid dream, or if this was really happening to him. He could still feel the trace of Dean's lips on his forehead. That had to be real.

Dean shook his head. "I'm sorry the world knows about what happened to you. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, isn't it?"

"It doesn't matter, Dean." Castiel took a deep breath. "People can say what they please. I don't intend on hiding forever."

"There's nothing wrong with hiding," Dean said. "Sometimes it's necessary."

Castiel looked right into his eyes, because they were Dean's essence. They said so many things Dean kept to himself. "Dean, I only ever wanted to hide my past from everyone. That is what frightened me the most, that people would discover my stained past and think less of me. And in the process, that would hurt you, too. But I am not a scared, hungry boy anymore. I'm a man. I have nothing to hide."

Dean smiled, wide and bright. It was a stunning sight, the way it lit up his entire face. This one was all for him. "It's good to hear you say that, Cas."

"I read something regarding you and Ruby." Castiel swallowed. He had no right to pry, but he wanted to know where Dean stood. "I know better than to believe everything posted online, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious."

Dean leaned close again, elbows on the bed. "You know me, I'm quite the Casanova."

Castiel raised his eyebrows. "Come again?"

"I got a reputation to uphold," Dean said, tilting down his chin.

"That isn't funny," Castiel said. "It was unpleasant, having to think about you with her, or anyone else."

"Oh, please, everyone's sick of hearing me talk about you. It was a huge turn off on the few occasions anyone tried to hit on me. Ruby, she's more of a business associate of mine. Or, used to be. She provided me with all sorts of things to keep me numb."

"It's because of me that you had to go to those extremes," Castiel said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Were you not listening to what I just told you? Cas, there's no one to blame here. And anyway, I didn't do all of that 'cause of you. Sure, you were a part of that, but you weren't the only reason. When you left, I questioned many things about myself. My agent called after my first interview and told me that I was a huge hit. People loved me. I didn't know why. I wasn't sure the person they saw in those interviews was me. I always try to put on a show when I'm in front of a camera. But that isn't me. I care about the way the world perceives me. I have to watch my every step because there's always someone watching. I felt like a fish in a fishbowl. I wanted to run. I think I understood how you felt, but unlike you, I had nowhere to run. I didn't want to burden my friends, or my brother, and in the process, I pushed them away."

"So, who are you, Dean?" Castiel asked. "Who is Dean Winchester in reality?"

"You really want to know?"

"Absolutely."

Dean gave him a half-smile. "I'm a fucking boring person, Cas. That's who I really am. My hobbies include watching reality shows, eating junk food, and reading Stephen King novels. I have a strange obsession with my classic car. I get uncomfortable when my fans declare their love for me on the streets because I cannot reciprocate their feelings. That's all I got."

Castiel laughed, although it was quiet. "That sounds perfect to me. I'll take boring over narcissistic any day."

"I shouldn't complain," Dean said. "I have a good life, you know. My brother's going to be a successful lawyer someday. I have great roles lined up for me. I have supportive friends that I don't deserve. And I have…well, I still have you. Alive."

"I'll try to stay alive as long as possible for you," Castiel said.

"That would be greatly appreciated." Dean brushed his hand through Castiel's hair. "It's like a bale of hay lives on your head. It's insane."

"Leave my hair alone," Castiel said.

Dean retrieved his hand. "I will find a brush tomorrow and I'm going to fix that hair."

Castiel sighed. "Alright."

"Go back to sleep," Dean said. "I won't go anywhere."

Castiel smiled slowly. "I know."

Dean sat back down. He removed his jacket and draped it over himself. He closed his eyes.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, but Dean was already snoring.

Castiel fluttered his eyelids, memorizing the peaceful way Dean slept beside him. Until finally, he slept as well.

The two of them stood at Mary and John Winchester's graves.

Dean rolled Castiel's wheelchair all through the cemetery. It had taken a lot of persuasion for Dean to agree to be here. Castiel was good at persuasion.

The graves didn't have any special markings on them, which Dean had explained was due to his parents finding those messages to be ridiculous. All they had was their names and dates marked. There were, however, fresh flowers in front of both of the headstones.

"They had many friends in this town," Dean said. He bent down to place his own vase with white roses Castiel had helped pick out.

"I'm certain that they would be proud of you if they could see you now," Castiel said, glancing up at Dean.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't think they ever imagined I would be an actor. It was the last thing on my mind back then. They always knew Sammy would be a lawyer. It was his lifelong dream. I didn't have one. I had minimum wage jobs to get by, that's all. I was content with that. That happens. You make enough money to get by, so you settle for what you have." He smiled. "If it hadn't been for Sammy, making me move to California, I never would have found what I was passionate about."

"It's good that you remember them so clearly and so fondly," Castiel said, a little envious. Castiel wished he had someone to bring flowers to. His father had been cremated. One of his brothers had kept the ashes, but he didn't care who. The details were not of import. Even if his father was buried here, Castiel would have felt no desire to visit his grave. What he envied was a family to remember.

No, not a family. What he didn't have were parents to remember.

He had a family. He had siblings. He had Rufus. He had Dean. He had a family in every sense of the word.

Dean stood in silence for a moment before he turned to Castiel. "You ready to go?"

"Yes."

Dean pushed the wheelchair back to the car. They indulged in the hot, summer day. It wasn't excruciatingly hot, and the wind was picking up. Castiel was glad to be out of the house. It had been a little over a week since he'd been locked away at home, but even with Dean to keep him company, he preferred being outdoors. Castiel felt a lot like Dean when he talked about the fish in a fishbowl. That was exactly how Castiel felt in his house. Like a fish in a fishbowl, when the thing he wanted was the ocean.

Unfortunately, he was bound to a wheelchair while he got the casts off, and he was also bound to his house.

Gabriel had gone back home yesterday. The house felt different without him. Castiel had promised to visit him as soon as he healed, but in the meantime, he emailed him at least twice a day whenever he had something incredibly important to share, such as the mysterious bird that kept appearing at his garden and the way the lights sometimes flickered in the evening.

Dean sat on the couch, while Castiel sat on his wheelchair to watch TV. They were sharing a bag of popcorn. When Dean offered the bag to Castiel, his eyes roamed his body.

"What is it?" Castiel said.

"You're too far away," Dean said. He was on his feet, getting closer. He picked Castiel up from the wheelchair and into his arms. It was such an easy task for him now, but Castiel was taken by surprise. Dean placed Castiel on the couch and then sat close beside him. He curled an arm around Castiel's shoulders, snaking a hand to grab more popcorn. "Much better."

Castiel buried his face in Dean's neck and slowly kissed a trail down his neck and jaw. The feel of his stubble was familiar. He heard Dean laughing. He was ticklish there.

"Oh, look," Dean said after a while. "Isn't that Chuck Shurley?"

Castiel turned to the TV, resting his head on Dean's shoulder. The man on TV was in fact Chuck Shurley. They'd only met a few times on the set of the movie, but Castiel remembered him clearly. A very nice man. He was being interviewed about Coffee Dates.

"Is it true that you were asked to change the script as it was originally presented?"

Chuck pulled on his tie, fidgeting on the seat. "I, yes, I had to change the script. I hope it wasn't too choppy in the final product. I did my best."

"What was it that you had to change?"

"In all honesty, this wasn't meant to be any ordinary romantic comedy," Chuck said. "I think we've seen this story at least a hundred times already. What I had envisioned was the story of two men, who were lifelong friends, who understood each other. One of them tried to court a beautiful woman, while the other one helped him. In the end, the main character would understand that it was pointless trying to force a relationship with this woman because he loved his friend. As you can see by the posters and trailer, that was not the end product. Which is perfectly fine. I agreed to these changes. But I did want to clarify why the audience might be confused about all of the innuendos between these two male characters. In the end, we have to attract a larger audience. Maybe in the future we can have a highly popular queer romantic comedy."

Dean snorted. "If Bela hears this, she will lose her shit. Can you imagine that? Bela not being the star of her movie? How would we have survived that?"

"That would have been a better film," Castiel said, thoughtful. For now, this was all they had.

"Michael and Jimmy would have made a great couple, huh?"

"I think so," Castiel said.

"We kind of owe it to them, not to hide anymore," Dean said.

Castiel raised his head and kissed Dean's lips. "Not hiding sounds good to me."