Crowley was getting antsy, there was no denying it. He had tried, oh he had tried. But he felt on edge, he really did. So when he heard the hesitant taps someone coming down the steps and he leaned forward with the faint glimpse of a smile he immediately wiped it off his face and got angry. Down boy. The footsteps stopped at the bottom and then there was nothing. Crowley waited and looked to the side of the room. There was at least ten seconds before he heard some shuffling of feet and the light above his head came on and he looked up.

He allowed himself to smile that time.

The footsteps carried on into the room, but Crowley's smile fell when the footsteps went to his right and not the left.

He didn't have to talk, he could just sit and leave it. Just sit and wait. In the darkness. Forever... Screw that. "Dean?" Crowley chanced. All movements ceased and Crowley's brow dipped. "Moose?" There was a sigh. "Moose, is that you?"

"Just getting a file." Sam's voice drawled out and Crowley's brow dipped further.

"What's going on?" Crowley ignored the feeling that bubbled up inside of him, he knew that feeling. He'd felt it before, a long time ago.

"Nothing, just getting a file." Sam said again and Crowley heard paper flapping around and sliding along other bits.

"Fine." Crowley's jaw tightened and he looked to the side.

"What?" Sam's voice was different and there was more shuffling of paper. Crowley didn't answer. "Crowley?" He ignored him again. Sam put the file flat down on the shelf in front of him and walked over to the shelf that concealed their little dungeon before pulling it wide open. He looked at Crowley who was looking at the side. "What's going on?"

Crowley shrugged. "Nothing."

Sam looked behind him briefly and then looked back. "You're mad at me." His voiced was hushed, like a whisper. "Right?"

"No." Crowley looked down at his hand and turned them over, looking over them.

"You are." Sam stepped forward towards Crowley, just two steps but it made Crowley look up at the ceiling, inhaling. "But I can't think why."

That sentence made Crowley mad. He knew exactly why! Crowley leaned forward. "Because you-" He stopped, his voice had come out in an angry yell and he pursed his lips together, looking to the side.

"So you are mad." Sam put his hands in his pockets. "Why?"

The question made Crowley blink like he had been minutely surprised. Sam's voice sounded sincere, as if he really didn't know. But Crowley knew that he did, he knew Sam had done it on purpose. Crowley cracked his neck. "Dean was here."

"Yeah, I know." Crowley looked up to see Sam's jaw tighten and he looked to the side. "But why would that make you angry?"

"He said he wondered why you were always down here but he needn't have worried."

Sam's head raised slightly and Crowley realised he'd said too much. "Oh." Sam tried not to smile. "That's it." He walked slowly around to the side of the table. "You're mad," Crowley started shaking his head while biting his bottom lip, "that I haven't been down for a while."

"Don't act like you-" Crowley caught himself again.

"Like I don't know?" Sam took another step forward. "I don't know."

"Yeah, right." Crowley huffed.

"Look at me." Sam stared and there was a pause before Crowley looked, with the attitude that screamed that he didn't want to. Sam's hand subconsciously went to his chest as he spoke. "I didn't, I don't even know what you think I did by not coming down here but Dean was asking questions, wanted to take over the interrogation so I thought I'd lay off." His hand left his chest and went out to the side. "That's all."

Crowley paused again. He could see an openness in the way that Sam had spoken, and a part of him believed the young man. But whether he believed him or not the demon could not ignore how glad he was to see him, to see anyone, he told himself. "Okay." He croaked and then nodded to the side. "Go get me a drink."

Sam smiled. "I can't be long."

"Go." Crowley said again, softer than before.

Sam turned on the spot and took a left out of the makeshift shelf door. Crowley sat up, shuffling to straighten up and sniffed, bending his neck to the side again. Sam indicated two plastic cups and a half-empty bottle of scotch. He put them on the table with a smile before turning on the spot again and walking to the doorway. Crowley watched him and saw him start to close the door over so he tried to lift his handcuffed hands up to reach the bottle and sighed when they didn't go far enough. Sam smiled as he saw his frustration and jogged forward a little to unlock them.

"You have the keys?" Crowley watched the motion before looking up to Sam.

"Mm-hm." Sam mumbled. "Stretch?"

"After this long?" Crowley watched as Sam chuckled before leaned down to the floor. "Use your common sense, Sam."

Sam looked up to see Crowley pick up the cups and grimace. "Still dirty."

"Beggars can't be choosers." Sam stood up, putting the key in his pocket, and turned around to grab a seat as Crowley poured.

.

Cas was walking towards his room, whistling a tune he had heard a long time ago. One which he couldn't remember the name of now but it popped into his head. Dean walked up behind him and put his hands on Cas' hips, pushing him forward. Cas didn't even have to look, he knew Dean's smell better than anything. Better than the pattern of every constellation, better than the maps of the continents, better than the names of all of his garrison, better than his own being. He knew Dean better. He let out a little laugh as Dean lightly turned him into his room. "Dean," he laughed again, "I was going to my own room."

"What's wrong with my room?" He wrapped his right arm around Cas' front to push him further when Cas seemed to slow.

"Nothing, just-" Cas sighed and let Dean strong-arm him. "Dean."

"Just one second." Dean stopped them both to close the door.

Cas turned on the spot. "Dean, I'm busy."

"Busy?" Cas nodded as Dean stood there, clicking the lock. "With what?"

"Finding you a case." Dean's brow furrowed and his head moved a little to the side. "You said you were frustrated, that you hadn't had a case in a while."

"Cas, you don't have to try and fix everything little problem I have?" Dean shrugged.

Cas' face changed to confused. "I thought we were in some kind of relationship now?"

Dean blushed a little and looked down. "I-I guess."

"And, as I understand it, the purpose of a relationship is to make the other person happy?"

"Uh," Dean looked back to Cas, "I guess, in the grand scheme of things, yeah."

"And a case would make you happier right now?"

"Well yeah but-"

"So, what did I do wrong here?" Cas looked straight at Dean. His head tilted to the right and he stared at Dean.

Dean stepped forward, putting his left hand under Cas' jaw, and kissed him as his right pressed into his back. It took a second for Cas to catch up but he moaned a little, partly from surprise and partly from the force of the kiss, as his arms came up to mirror Dean's. Dean's tongue was already pushing it's way into Cas' mouth and Cas let it, he was completely unsure why Dean had halted the conversation to kiss him but he decided that he didn't care. The taste of Dean was intoxicating, he wanted more every time he tasted it and Dean didn't seem to be holding back. Until he pulled away. He didn't go far, his lips were a barely a centimeter away from Cas' and when Cas looked his eyes were still closed but they looked a little tense. "Cas," his whispered voice paused, pushing his lips together for a second as his brow twitched, "why?"

"Why what?" Cas whispered back.

Dean's lips pursed together more, his brow dipping even further as he turned his head to the side. "Why do you treat me like that?"

"Like what?" Cas' own face showed worry, had he hurt Dean or treated him badly? Maybe he felt that Cas was constricting him, perhaps he wanted to find his own case, maybe he felt like he was losing control.

"Like I'm the only person in the world." Dean had said it in a whisper but there had been a choke there.

The simple words with the way Dean had said them hit Cas like a brick and he let out a low, audable grunt. Dean opened his eyes to it. "Dean." Cas' eyes began to sting. "At this moment in time there are seven billion, two hundred and eighty-nine million, four hundred and thirty thousand, three hundred and sixty-five people on the planet." He swallowed. "That number goes up and down every single second, in the time that it took me to even say the number to you it changed an estimated seventy-four times."

"Wow." Dean muttered, wondering where this was going.

"Yes, it can be an overwhelming thing to think about. And I've watched many more of those, all of the changes, the ups and downs in population per second, I've seen a lot of them. An inordinate amount. I've watched births, deaths; pain, happiness; discoveries, extinctions... So many things that I could not even begin to tell you about and hope to finish." Dean waited, listening. "I've seen a lot, I've watched a lot of people. Then I watched you." Dean looked at the floor momentarily. "I know it makes you uncomfortable," Dean looked back up, "that you felt manipulated or controlled. But, I was tasked with saving you, my whole garrison was, we lost a lot of my brothers and sisters that day." Cas shook his head. "I know you don't believe in destiny or fate, although that confuses me since you and your brother have met her," Dean tried not to smile at Cas' confusion, "but I was the one who got to you, I was the one who," Cas lifted his right hand slowly, "gripped you tight," he put his hand over Dean's shoulder and Dean turned to look as Cas' warm skin meet and hugged his, "and raised you from perdition. From that moment on, my life and the entire universe has never been the same." His left hand, which had fell slightly as they spoke, reclaimed it's place along Dean's jaw as the man looked back to Cas' eyes. "You may not be the only person in the world, Dean, but when it comes to me," he sighed, "you may as well be."

Dean swallowed, his hand fell to hovering in between them where he gestured with them as he spoke, when he did speak his voice was soft and croaky, as if he hadn't spoken in a while or even as if he was trying hard to keep emotion down. "You said before that you were the talker and I was the doer." Cas nodded. "You've done nothin' but prove yourself right about that, you always know just what to say. Even when I didn't know I wanted to hear anythin' but..." He paused and wetted his lips nervously. "Sometimes I feel like action speaks louder than words," Cas suddenly looked confused, "it's a figure of speech, it means that sometimes words aren't enough, that people's actions say more than words ever could." Cas nodded slowly understanding it a little more. "But, since I'm all action," Dean gestured to himself, "then I think the opposite applies to me, do you see what I mean?"

Cas narrowed his eyes for a beat be fore he spoke. "You mean that for a man, like you Dean, who communicates in actions that words might occasionally have more of an impact than action?"

"Exactly." Dean nodded. "'Cause it's not my usual thing, you see?" Cas nodded again and he tilted his head slightly, not in confusion but in intrigue. "So I want to try that now, if that's alright? Like we did before."

"Okay." Cas seemed wary or unsure of where this was going but he could see something was brewing in Dean's eyes and it was true, Dean was not a talker, so for him to have a discussion about what was bothering him regarding Sam' trips to the dungeon and then want to convey something else to Cas within such a short period of time was something that Cas was not about to discourage.

"Right." Dean cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. "You said before that I was the single..." He trailed off, the thought of even saying the words out loud made Dean feel sick, to repeat those words would be like admitting that they were true and while he might admit that Cas thought a lot of him he would also add that he felt Cas thought too much of him. He was certainly not as important as Cas thought he was. Cas had laid down his life, more than a few times, for Dean and Sam. He had done so much for them, so much. The guy had rebelled against Heaven for God's sake. Well no, for Dean's sake. Heaven! That's not something to be done lightly and it's certainly not something to take lightly either. That wasn't lending a friend a few bucks to fix their car or being there at 2am when they called needing support. That was freaking Heaven, the golden gates on the clouds in the sky with babies in diapers, harps and choral music. Nothing anyone had ever and would ever do for Dean could compare to that. Friggin' Heaven, man.

"Single most important person to me in the world." Cas stated.

"Yeah." Dean nodded briefly. "That. And now you're saying that everything changed when you gripped me." Cas nodded again. "But it changed for me too."

"I realise that, Dean. You were in Hell-"

Dean hushed Cas softly. "Let me finish." Cas clamped his mouth closed. "I uh, everything changed for me that day. When I clawed my way out of that hole I wasn't just coming back from Hell, it was like I was being reborn of some shit, I came back to all of this stuff, Sam and Bobby and then there was you and God!" Dean widened his eyes. "I had to take on this idea that all of that was real and then everything piled on from there with Lucifer and Michael and suddenly there was another set of douchebags to fight the ones we'd been chasing our whole lives and not only were we in the middle of you guys fighting but we were been backed into corners. The hunters became the hunted and everything went to Hell, partly literally."

Cas looked guilty and in pain listening to Dean talk. He wanted to reach out, wrap his arms around Dean and apologise for it all all over again, until he could speak anymore, he could feel the bite at the back of his throat, threatening to make him cry. But at the same time he wanted to leave, he wanted to turn and run from the room, flee the base and get as far away from the Winchesters as possible, to make sure he never brought any pain down on them ever again. On Dean.

"You know, a while ago Sam called me in the middle of the night, and we spoke, it was actually the night I heard you pray, and he said something that stuck with me. He said that you were always there, he said that me and him always had each other to rely on, but more than that we could rely on you too." Dean shook his head and reached up to take Cas' hand in his. "All of my life, even when I was following Dad around, it didn't matter who came and went, even the old man himself, it has always been me and Sam. Even when Sam walked out and went to college life wasn't quite right, as soon as we hooked up again to go looking for Dad it was like something snapped into place like, yeah this is how it's supposed to be. I mean Heaven and hell tried to get us to fight each other and we fought that." Cas smiled a little at the expression on Dean's face. "But then you came along and that's what I mean Cas, nobody has clicked into our life before, it's always been me and Sam, but you just clicked. You fit in like you were always meant to there, like you always have been." He sighed, looking at Cas. "You say you watched me so maybe it's because you always have been."

Cas' mouth opened and he stalled a second, not sure what to say.

"I don't really have a defining point to what I'm saying." Dean admitted with a blush. "I just hoped that what I said would tell you what my actions don't." He shrugged. "I might not be able to say you're the most important person in the world to me, 'cause it's always been about Sam, he's my brother, but I only have two of those spots." He looked down. "I just wanted you to know that."

"Thank you, Dean." Dean looked up and Cas smiled.

.

Sam sighed and looked into his glass. "I need to go." He looked up and gave a weary smile.

"Sure." Crowley nodded.

Sam stood up. "Listen," he moved the chair back against the wall, "I don't know why you were so annoyed with me but-"

"Sam." Crowley exhaled. Sam stopped immediately and turned to look at Crowley. His head was lowered and his forehead lay in his hand as he looked at the table. "When I was eight years old my mother said she was going out, she'd be back in five minutes, and she never came back." Sam seemed a little confused as Crowley looked back up. "She was the last person I ever trusted." Crowley nodded once. "Until now."

Sam's whole face showed realisation.

"You were right when you said you know me better than anyone else." Sam stepped closer to hear as Crowley's words got quieter. "All day, every day, all alone in here I started to think we had a friendship," he shrugged tiredly, "of sorts." He exhaled. "It's stupid, I know, but I started to look forward to our little," he gestured over the table, "meetings and that made me mad."

"Why?" Sam chanced and Crowley looked up at him. "Is it really so bad?"

"Of course it is." Crowley looked down at his hands. "You said people aren't possessions and I said they were. In this world there are the weak and the strong."

"And you think that needing someone makes you weak, a possession?" Crowley looked up and nodded as he looked to the side. "Then you're an idiot." Crowley let out a laugh and nodded, stalling as Sam spoke. "Being needed and needing people, it's nothing to do with weakness or ownership." Crowley finally met his eyes again. "It's human nature."

Crowley twitched his hands in his lap. "Bloody exorcism."

Sam laughed that time and Crowley looked up, secretly proud of himself that he could do that. Sam stepped forward and leaned on the table. "You think I come down here just to amuse you?" Crowley raised his head to look at Sam properly. "Friendship goes two ways." He smiled and tapped the table lightly before turning away.

"Kirby Barclay." Sam paused and turned back to Crowley. "Green River, Wyomming." Sam smiled. "See you soon, Moose."

Sam nodded, picked up the empty bottle and plastic cups, and walked out before pulling the shelf over.

As Crowley listened to Sam's steps fade he looked up to the light that was left on, cleared his throat and reached over to click his collar close. Sam had forgotten.