A/N: Just a quick heads up that there won't be an update next week because of the holidays. Everything will be back on schedule after that though. Happy holidays to everyone ;)

He must have had a relapse, because he goes through another assortment of weird dreams or maybe he's just hallucinating again. It doesn't really matter. There is no Cas anymore in his dreams, just wide fields and empty rooms, and the feeling of being chased, hunted almost, and all he can think of is running. Running through an open field that doesn't give him any cover, running through empty room after empty room, but no matter how fast he runs, he never gets away. And when he wakes it's with a lingering sense of dread and a feeling he can't quite shake, that he's still sleeping, and that he's only moved on to another nightmare.

So when he wakes up for real he's disoriented at first, because it feels so different from his dreams, real, more tangible and way more painful. For a brief, terrifying moment, Dean thinks he is back in Alastair's room, the ceiling equally white and unassuming; the bed eerily familiar underneath him. But then he realizes the differences, the room isn't empty, there are machines there, a constant beep reminding him of his heart rate, he's not cuffed this time, but most importantly, he knows and trusts the person slumped in the chair next to his bed.

And that right there, almost makes him weep with joy, weren't it for the sliver of doubt that reminds him that this could still be a dream.

"Sam." His voice comes out barely above a croak, and there just seems so much stuff stuck in his throat, making it both hard to breathe and speak. But he just can't believe that it's Sam, that he wakes up to his life not being in imminent danger.

Sam jerks awake, and Dean only then realizes that he must have been asleep, but he doesn't have the time to feel guilty, because Sam is on him, hugging him way too tight for comfort. Dean lets him though, because he can feel his brother shaking with all the worry he must have gone through after his disappearance. He wraps his arms around Sam, a task that is harder than it should be, because his arms feel way heavier than they have every right to be.

They let go eventually and when Sam pulls back Dean can see the dried streaks of tears - both old and new - on his face and there's something clenching in his chest, guilt drenched with shame, because he let them get the jump on him, something his father taught him well enough to avoid, and in turn made Sam worry.

A nurse comes in, as if she's guided by some supernatural knowledge of when people have woken up, and after she's summoned a doctor Dean gets to be their ragdoll for the amount of time it takes to determine that his condition is 'stable, but don't overdo it'. And with that they're gone again, almost as quick as they appeared.

"How do you feel?" Sam asks after they've left, mirroring the question the doctor asked, but unlike him he actually expects an honest answer. His face is scrunched up in a worried frown, and Dean can clearly see the many sleepless nights he must have spent because of Dean.

"Like shit." Dean answers after a short assessment. He's patched up mostly, but he feels sore all over and stiff, like he's forgotten the use of most of his joints. There's a stale taste in his mouth, like fur grown on his tongue and he feels like he's growing a patch of thistle in his throat. But compared to what he's woken up to the first two times, it's almost heaven.

"How did I get here?"

"You tell me." Sam frowns again, but that doesn't quite hide the worry lines. "A couple on their midnight stroll found you unconscious on the side of the road. They called 911 and the hospital called us."

Dean looks away, there's a question in Sam's eyes and he's not yet ready to answer it.

"Where's Cas?" Now that the most pressing question is out of the way, it's time to get to the really most pressing question.

"At home resting. He's been waiting at your bed for days now and he desperately needed some rest." Sam sounds almost apologetic, but Dean is just relieved that Cas is fine. And even though he's disappointed that he's not here, he also can't deny the flurry of emotions in his belly at the thought that Cas has been waiting at his bedside.

"He refused at first, said he didn't want to leave you, but he could barely function as it was." Sam frowns, looks down, looks up again and sighs. "He told us about Alastair."

Dean freezes. His thoughts stumble to a violent and sudden halt, and all he can think is 'fuck, Sam knows'. It wasn't supposed to come out like this, he wanted to tell Sammy personally, and he certainly didn't want to have this conversation while lying sick in a hospital bed.

"Sam-"

"Dean." Sam interrupts and he finally looks up. "You didn't come home from your shift, and when we called Ellen she said that your car was gone from the lot. Do you want to know what my first thought was? I thought you had left again, like you did when I went to college. Because I know you, and I know that what you have with Cas scares you."

"Did you really think that?" He tries to summon anger, but he's too exhausted, and Sam has too much of a point.

He's never given Sam any reason to believe that he won't up and leave like that again. He won't, fuck, he never thought of leaving, even though Sam is right, his feelings for Cas scare him at times, but he never told Sam that. He just thought he let Sam figure that on his own, like he had figured out why Dean had left in the first place. The thought leaves him winded enough to temporarily forget worrying about his Baby.

"What was I supposed to believe? We checked the news, but there weren't any accidents and you were nowhere to be found. And Cas was out of his mind. Hell, we all were. There hadn't been any traces of a fight, you were just gone and we had nothing."

Sam sounds angry, and Dean recognizes the signs of defensiveness, even when his mind is still fucked up from his sickness. He feels tempted to rise to the bait, to snap back at Sam, but before he can even gather up enough anger to add the bite, Sam's shoulders have already fallen in shame.

"I'm sorry. I was just so worried and Cas was blaming himself, said he should have taken better care of you and shit. I should know you better than that. But I never really understood why you left the first time, and I couldn't help but think that maybe whatever you were running from was still there. And then the police found your car abandoned on an old scrapyard and I no longer knew what to think."

Dean has to close his eyes for a moment, just to take a deep breath and not lose it right then and there. He can't deal with this, it's too painful.

"I fucked up Sammy." He says finally, voice thick with tears he refuses to cry. Because he doesn't get to cry, not when he's the one who put his family through so much shit.

"No you didn't." Sam says firmly, with conviction Dean can't even begin to feel. "Cas told us what you went through. After we realized that you'd not just left." Sam is chocking up now, voice barely comprehendible through all the tears.

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea. But I understand why you did what you did. I don't blame you."

As if that would change anything.

"No Sam you don't understand. I fucked up." Dean's voice sounds hollow, even to his own ears. "I knew that Alastair had me on the radar again and I did squat about that. I allowed him to take me, just like that. And I killed people Sam. Not in self defense, but because I could. So don't you dare telling me you understand."

He has to look away after that, he can't stand to see the disappointment in Sam's eyes. Because he knows Cas, and he would make sure that Dean is painted in the best possible way in his story, and Sam would soak it up like the faithful little brother he is.

There's silence after that, a heavy, suffocating silence and Dean just wants to be alone so that he can pretend this never happened. But Sam doesn't leave and Dean doesn't ask him to.

"So maybe I don't understand." Sam starts after a while, and Dean feels a new wave of shame and guilt when he hears how small he sounds. Like he's trying so desperately to reach out to Dean, but no longer knows how and everything Dean does is shooting him down. "But I still don't blame you. Neither doe Cas." There's something else in those words. An apology of sorts and even deeper the hope that they'll be okay again, that Sam is willing to accept everything as long as it gets him his brother back.

They only had each other for so long, that Dean doesn't have to think twice to accept it.

He looks back at Sam and tries a smile. It's tentative at best, and his face hurts in places it has no right to, but Sam's face lights up and for now that's enough. There'll be another talk, because it's Sam and he needs to talk about these things, but he can live with that. He's just glad that he's back and in one piece. Besides, there are other things he has to worry about.

"What happened?"

Sam explains in quick words how Jody initiated a county wide search for him and they found the car abandoned a day earlier. Ellen had gone out then and dug out an old homeless person who had witnessed the whole abduction. And then by some lucky chance a couple took a late night walk and stumbled over his collapsed form.

"Jody knows about Alastair?" Dean checks afterwards, already knowing the answer, but he has to ask anyway. Sam just nods, a flitter of guilt, because Jody is new to the family, but Dean is too beat to care much. Besides, he wants to tell Jody anyway, he's just preferred a chance to do it himself.

"Good. Tell her that I want to make a full confession about Alastair's deeds. As soon as possible." Sam is stunned for a moment, but his mind is already going through the implications of Dean's words, he can see it in the lines of his frown as he runs it through.

He's not surprised at the outcome.

"Dean that could get you into prison." And he wishes he could say that doesn't bother him, he wishes he were the kind of righteous that would gladly sacrifice his own happiness for others, and a few months earlier he might have done it without a second thought even. But now he can't help but feel regret at the thought that he might never see Cas again, or that he might have to leave Sam, again. When he thinks of that, he doesn't want to confess. He wants to take the secret and hide it as far away as possible, make those who already know forget so that he can pretend that it never happened.

He can't do that though. Because even though Alastair hasn't done anything yet, he sure as hell will and then not only Dean but his whole family are in danger. And he can't allow that. Not after he already had his filthy claws on Cas.

"I know." He can't pretend he isn't scared though. Alastair won't go down easily, and there's not a shred of doubt in his mind that he'll send someone after Dean and that he might have to go into witness protection. But if anyone can do it, it's him, and he has waited way too long for this.

"I have to do this Sam. I should have done that a long time ago. None of this," He makes a hand gesture that indicates his battered state, "would have happened if I'd just man up. It needs to be done."

And there is nothing Sam can say to that, because Dean is right and so he bows his head, sighing heavily and whispering under his breath: "The others won't like this." But what he really means is; Cas won't like this.

And Dean will have to live with that.

Dean hates hospitals. The food sucks, there's noise 24/7, the TV programs are always shit and the nurses (however hot they may be) won't get off his ass. And he hates lying around uselessly in general, but so far he's not allowed to go for more than a bathroom break. And even then he has to drag that damn I.V. with him and take care not to get the line caught in something - again. And ripping that needle out by accident fucking hurt. (As did inserting it back in.)

And above all, he's going out of his mind with boredom. Sam left shortly after Dean woke up to a) get some decent rest and b) talk to Jody, and he can probably expect her tomorrow at the earliest, because she's pretty busy at the moment. And as much as Dean would prefer to be done with it now rather than later, he can't help but feel grateful for the reprieve.

That still leaves him with boredom though. Sam didn't think of bringing books or anything and there's just some dumb rerun of Family Ties and he's not desperate enough (yet) to watch through that - again. He's suffered through lunch already and he definitely doesn't look forward to dinner. Not even the stupid pudding can make up for that. And he has only been awake for what, four hours now?

According to Sam he had been sleeping for days (they had to feed him through infusions), and that's certainly enough time to lie around and do nothing. But after Sam threatened to guilt trip him into next week if he doesn't listen to what the doctor's say, he's not left with much of a choice.

He's on the verge of deciding to just screw it all and walk out of there, maybe get some of that shitty hospital coffee, when his savior in the form of Cas appears in the door. He looks ruffled, more so than usual, but as soon as he sees Dean he rushes over and hugs him.

Cas is shaking minutely and he clings to Dean as if his life depends on it. Dean lets him, needing the contact as much as Cas. He hadn't realized how worried he was about Cas, until this moment.

"Dean." Cas breathes, unwilling to let go but Dean gently pries his grip off to push him at arm's length. He wants to look at him properly, but as soon as he sees the worry in his face he pulls him back in for a kiss. Cas melts instantly against him, a soft sigh falling from his lips that Dean catches with his own.

They don't stop until both of them have reassured themselves of the other's wellbeing and even then they pull apart only inches to rest their foreheads together. "I'm sorry I worried you." Dean finally says, hand curled into the soft hairs on the back of Cas' neck.

"I'm just glad you're alright." Cas' smile is brilliant and for a moment it erases all the small signs of the woes of the past few days on his face. It makes Dean's heart clench with shame when he thinks that he's responsible for all the pain. The shadows under his eyes, the lines in his face that speak from hours of worrying, even more so because it's Cas. He shouldn't even be able to look like that.

"I'm so sorry." Dean presses his eyes closed to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. He can't cry, not now when he finally has Cas back.

"Don't be." Cas whispers and then he's kissing him again, deep and slow, like he needs to learn the feel of Dean anew. "I'm so happy to have you back Dean. Please, don't be sorry."

"Okay." He chokes the word out more than he says them, but then Cas is kissing his cheeks and he realizes that he's crying for real now. "Cas, I-" the words are stuck in his throat and Dean feels like he's choking for real this time. He hadn't even meant to say that, to start saying that. It was just there all of a sudden and he had opened his frigging mouth without thinking, but then he thinks about what he's about to do, and his mouth falls shut again.

He grasps at Cas' arm, into the fabric of the same old trench coat that is so inherently Cas it's comforting. He's such a fucking coward, even after what he'd been through, even after facing the possibility that he might lose Cas, he can't say it, because the whole thought is still so new. It's too early for that, it must be, maybe Cas isn't ready for this form of commitment yet, because Dean sure isn't. They don't know each other for that long after all.

(And he tells himself that that's it, that he's only holding back because he's considerate of Cas' feelings, that he doesn't want to overwhelm him, while in truth, he's just scared.)

Cas seems to sense that he's distressed and he gently guides Dean to lie back down. He smiles as he pulls something out of his coat pocket. There's a faint blush on his cheeks and if Dean didn't know it better he would say Cas was bashful. "I brought you something." Okay, now he's sure of it, Cas is bashful.

It's endearing and so terribly adorable that Dean is sure he could vomit rainbows, but intentional or not, it has the effect of flushing all the panic out of Dean's system. It's a small plastic zip bag, filled with a honey-colored paste. He takes it carefully from Cas' hand, not quite sure what to make of it.

"I harvested the honey myself." He says proudly.

Ah. The honey-colored something is actually honey. Who would have thought.

Dean stares at the bag. The amount of honey in it is actually quite impressive. He has no real idea on how much honey bees produce regularly, but this really seems like a lot.

"Thanks Cas." He says with real warmth in his voice. He's not particular one for honey, but even he recognizes the worth of such a gift. "It's awesome." He pulls open the zipper and gives the contents a careful sniff and damn that stuff smells good.

Cas in the meantime is rivaling the Cheshire cat. "I wasn't sure if you would like it, but there are many usages for honey and I thought I'd give it a try." It's obvious how proud he is of himself, and Dean is filled with that brilliant warmth again, that he's come to associate with Cas.

And that gets him thinking once again.

He's not in lethal danger anymore, and with Jody's help he'll be able to make sure that it stays that way. He doesn't have to hurry. And then he thinks about what Sam said and the very real possibility that he's right. It wouldn't be fair to Cas to confess to him only to be carted off to prison immediately after.

The thought hurts, almost more than he can bear, but there's a very slim chance that he might get off the hook easily. If he can bring down Alastair's regime he might get a reduced sentence, or maybe he'll even be pardoned. And he resolves in that moment to keep off telling Cas until then, until he's free, either by ruling or by serving his sentence. And if Cas doesn't want him after either of that, well, he's going to cross that bridge when he gets to it.

It's not the ideal solution, but it eases off the weight on his heart. Cas deserves something better than Dean could give him right now, but once this all is over, he'll make it up to Cas.

Until then…

There's a mischievous glint in Cas' eyes as he leans in to whisper into Dean's ear. "Joshua gave me a recipe for a honey based massage oil." And if that doesn't sound suggestive as hell Dean doesn't know what does.

"Is that so?"

"Yes." Cas is growling now, and whatever it is that he does to Dean's ears with his lips right now, it's awesome.

"Wanna try it out?" Dean winds his hand around Cas' neck, coaxing him forward and into a kiss. Slow again, just to feel Cas and imagine the taste of honey on his lips.

"Yes." Cas breathes again and sags against Dean, as if all the strength has been drained from him with just that kiss. And Dean finds his hands irresistibly drawn to that bag of honey in his lap. He dips in a finger; the texture is different from the smoothness he usually associates with honey, clear and sticky as hell. It just has a hint of graininess, it feels a bit like the scrub bath Sam insists on using and he can't pull it isn't as viscous as honey is.

But the smell is still enticing and he can't resist.

He drags his finger over Cas' lips, feels the small tremble under the tip and the ghost of a breath as Cas exhales. Cas' goes almost cross eyed in his attempt to look down on his lips and Dean foregoes his initial plan of kissing it off and instead pushes his finger In between the plumpness of Cas' lips.

Cas shudders minutely and then he's sucking on Dean's finger, tongue lapping at every last drop of honey and Dean never thought that something like finger sucking could be this arousing. Dean drags his thumb over Cas' lips again, smearing the honey further.

"Dean." Cas mumbles around his finger and Dean smiles softly. He pulls back his finger, but leaves his hand cradled against the side of Cas' jar as he pulls him in, to finally kiss the honey from Cas' lips. The taste is overwhelming; it's sweet yet with a certain tartness underneath, like the filling of a perfect apple pie.

Dean has his hand halfway up under Cas' shirt when a nurse alerts them to her presence by clearing her throat. Cas immediately pulls back, looking both flustered and incredibly turned on at the same time. Dean just winks at the nurse as he leans back in the pillows. It sucks that they got interrupted, but they're in a hospital and Dean apparently needs hourly checkups so he isn't exactly surprised.

The nurse finishes her routine (thank goodness, no fever thermometer this time, there is really only one person he's comfortable with bearing his ass to), and declares then with the gravity of yearlong practice that visiting hours are over in ten minutes. Since Dean's awake now, and visitors could possibly disturb his healing process - complete with a poignant look at Cas and the traces of honey that are still haphazardly smeared on his face - she insists on that they adhere to the rules just like everyone else.

It seems like a speech she has hold a lot of time before and Dean doesn't doubt that she's ready to kick Cas out personally if she has to. They reassure her that it won't come to that and she leaves them alone again. Dean zips up the honey bag with one last remorseful glance before he drops it on his nightstand.

He actually wanted to tell Cas under better circumstances but he can't count on him coming tomorrow before Jody shows up. He has work to do after all. And if he's completely honest, there are no good circumstances under which he could say what he has to say next.

"You know Alastair grabbed me, right?" Dean tries, hands twisted into the blanket.

"I gathered as much, after Jody told us what the homeless man said." Cas apparently senses that Dean has something important to say, because he sits back in his chair, eyes awake and trained on Dean.

Dean is hit by the sudden and equally crazy thought that the blue fairy must be real. There's no other way how Cas could be so human, so alive, in moments like this. The thought is equally painful and exalting. Just thinking of hat it would mean to have Cas as a human takes his breath away. Even with all the traces of exhaustion lining his face.

But he can't think about that right now. (Or possibly ever.)

"He's going to come after me again, Cas. And not just after me. He'll come after you too. (He bites back the 'again' on the last second, there's no need to open that can of worms now. "And I can't allow that."

Cas is smart. There's not a hint of a doubt in Dean's mind about that. Maybe a bit clueless at times, and most of Dean's references go over his head, but he's highly intelligent, able to put bits and pieces together. As he's doing now. And he gets there, just as Dean expected him to.

"Then we should leave." He suggests quietly, but they both now that's not going to cut it. They could ask Ash, or maybe even Charlie, to erase their traces again, build them a new identity, but then what? Going into some form of self-imposed witness protection? Living off the radar for the rest of their lives, while there is another option out there, one that could guarantee his family's safety? And he can't be selfish, not when this is all his fault to begin with.

And Cas knows that.

"I'm going to 'fess up. Alastair needs to be stopped, and I'm the only one who can do it. I might be… I don't know. This could end me up in prison, heck, this will most likely end me up in prison, and believe me when I say, that fucking scares me." He doesn't say that it's because it would separate him from Cas.

"But I need to do this. I just… I killed so many; I still have nightmares about it. And I know he's doing it to others, forcing them to torture for him, and I can't just keep living when I could put a stop to that."

Cas doesn't say anything, he just looks and the sheer amount of understanding in his face is enough to break Dean's heart.

"Maybe," He says, because he has to, "Maybe I'll get pardoned. If my contribution is big enough they might acquit me. But even that can take a long time. And it will drag up so much dirt. Cas, I can't ask you to stay with me, I can't, but I want to. I just, I don't think I could do this without you." He has to force out the words, and it's one of the hardest things he's ever done. Asking for help, selfishly like this, goes against everything he believes in, everything he's made out of.

He feels so heavy all of a sudden, pressed down by an invisible weight.

And Cas just takes his hand, squeezes their fingers together and smiles. "I won't leave you." Cas says, but his words are lost in the rush of blood in Dean's ears. Maybe it's the stress of all the emotions, maybe he's just weaker than he thought, but he can feel himself drifting off into unconsciousness. And if the last words he's hearing is "ever" he might just be imagining things.