With the help of the magnetic flashers he kept in his trunk, Dean pulled up to the fire station and was out of his car less than seven minutes after his phone went off. Racing inside for his gear, he met Benny and the others already there. Yanking on his boots, he climbed into the truck as it pulled out of the bay.

Orchard was just a few blocks from the fire station, and they could see the smoke from there. When they pulled up, Jodi Mills was already there, and Garth and Rufus pulled up in the ambulance just behind them.

"We got two kids, here," she pointed at the a large tree across the street from the house, "and the father with them. Mother's still inside. Second floor, window on the right."

Dean's stomach clenched. There was no way the mother made it out. Poor kids. He, Benny and the rest of the crew set to work with the hoses. They battled the flames for nearly two hours. There was no saving the house. Or the mother. Once the flames were out, and the ashes cooled enough for crews to enter, Benny would go in with the County Medical Examiner to recover the body. Dean made his way over to the remnants of the family, now broken by tragedy.

The father sat on the ground holding his infant son, his preschooler next to him, curled into his side. Dean placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"I'm so very sorry for your loss."

He turned and walked back to the engine, pulling off his heavy coat. Dean's sorrow at the loss of the unknown woman touched him to the quick. He knew that pain, and it came flooding back to him in an instant.

It was past midnight when Dean made it back to his car. He finally checked his phone. There were several missed texts from Cas, and one from Sam.

'Call me when you make it home. I don't care how late it is,' was the last one Cas sent. Dean took a deep breath. He'd call when he got there. Right now, he needed the quiet comfort of his baby's engine rumbling beneath him. No words, no music. Just baby.

Exhaustion crept over him, but there would be no sleep for Dean tonight. That call had hit him hard. He pulled into the garage, and decided he'd call Cas after he showered.

He didn't make it that far.

Cas heard the Impala pull in the driveway, and he raced to his door. Flinging it wide, he was at Dean's side in an instant. All his anxiety melted away as he threw his arms around the man. He pulled him close, squeezed him hard. Releasing a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, Cas whispered in his ear.

"Oh god! I'm so glad you're alright!"

"'M all right, Cas. Just...need a shower." Cas relinquished his grip on Dean and stepped back. It was difficult for him, though. He didn't want to let go of Dean. He reached out, but stopped his hand before he made contact with the exhausted man. Dean saw the motion, and looked searchingly at Cas for a moment. Without a word, he took Cas by the hand and lead him inside. He stopped to grab two beers from the fridge with his free hand, and pulled Cas along the hall to the stairs. Climbing the stairs, Dean gripped Cas' hand harder. He didn't want to fall apart. Not yet. He held on to Cas as though that were the only thing keeping him together. When they reached Sam's room, he knocked on the door. "'M home, Sammy. I'm fine." Sam mumbled his relief through the closed door. Sam knew that tone. He'd wait for Dean to seek him out if he needed to talk. In the meantime, he'd stay put and give his older brother space.

Dean kept walking, still pulling Cas along with him. Entering his bedroom, he closed the door behind Cas. Dean handed off one of the beers and turned toward the master bathroom. He slipped inside and left the door open; he didn't want to shut Cas out. He needed him there.

Turning on the shower and setting his beer on the shelf inside, he stripped out of his smokey clothes and threw them in the hamper. Dean stepped under the warm spray of water and picked up his beer.

Cas averted his eyes as Dean stood, naked, in the bathroom. Much as he wanted to see all of Dean, to study him, to learn each ridge and valley of his body, it wouldn't be like this. This was Dean needing him the way he had needed Dean less than a week ago. Tonight was Castiel's night to comfort.

"It was rough, Cas," Dean's voice was low and thick. Cas could barely hear him. He moved toward the bathroom.

"What happened?" He asked kindly as he stepped inside.

"House fire. Young family. The...the mom didn't make it out."

"How terrible," Cas' voice was sad. He lowered the lid of the toilet and sat down.

"They had two kids. A baby, and the other couldn't have been more than four," Dean's eyes poured out almost as much water as the shower. "Lost their mom. Lost his wife. Lost the house...Everything. Gone. Just like that." He chugged his beer.

"Are the children alright? And the father?"

"Yeah. They were P3s. Made it out fine."

"I don't know what that means: P3s?" Cas furrowed his brow, trying to figure out the unfamiliar code.

"Priority levels. Three is non-emergency, two is emergency, one is critical, and zero...zero is D.O.A." He took a deep shuddering breath. "The mom was a zero."

"I'm so sorry, Dean." Cas wiped a hand across his face. He may not have known Dean for long, but he knew him well enough to know he took the loss personally.

Dean scrubbed himself thoroughly, and stepped from the shower. With his back to Cas, he dried off quickly and wrapped the towel around him. Again, Cas averted his eyes. Beautiful though Dean was, seeing him naked like this was far from sexual. Dean stepped back out to his bedroom, fished a clean pair of boxers out of his drawer and slipped them on. He hung the towel back up in the bathroom and grabbed his beer. Cas followed him back into the bedroom the second time he went.

Dean sat, heavily, on the bed. His shoulders hunched in abject sorrow. Cas stared at him for a moment. His made his decision. If he was honest with himself, it was made the moment he laid eyes on the man. And, at that moment, Dean needed him. Cas moved around to the other side of the queen sized bed. He emptied his pockets and slipped off his shoes. Dean didn't notice any of it.

Castiel undid his jeans and slid them off along with his socks. Still wearing his boxers and a t-shirt, he pulled the covers back and climbed on the bed. Crawling over to Dean, he wrapped his arms around him from behind: one arm looped under Dean's and up his chest, the other around his shoulders. He put his chin on Dean's shoulder and kissed his temple. Dean hid his face in his hands. He couldn't stop the tears no matter how hard he tried.

"Sshhh," Cas scooted closer, spreading his knees to either side of Dean's hips, pulling Dean back against his chest. "It's going to be all right. You are so brave, Dean, so brave. It's not your fault. You can't save everyone." Dean began to sob. "Come here." Castiel leaned them down onto the mattress. He tugged the covers out from underneath them and pulled Dean into bed. Dean went willingly.

Years of holding back the pain of losing loved ones, of not being able to be everything for his brother, of never feeling like he was good enough, poured forth from Dean in tears and bone-rattling sobs. Cas wrapped himself around Dean, letting him take the comfort he had been denied for so long.

He held Dean and rubbed his back until the worst of it had passed. As his breathing calmed and the tears began to dry, Dean rolled to his back.

"I'm so sorry, Cas," He laid an arm over his eyes. "I...this isn't...It doesn't usually get to me like this."

"Dean, you just had to witness a family losing a loved one while you were helpless to stop it. I'd be worried about you if you WEREN'T upset by that."

Dean nodded, fresh tears slipping down the sides of his face. Castiel pulled him closer, and Dean rolled to his side; his back to Cas. Taking the opportunity to move in closer, Cas tucked himself up against Dean's back, an arm around his waist. Dean slid his hand over Cas' and laced their fingers together. He pulled it up to his lips and kissed Cas' fingers, then clutched them to his chest.

"Thank you, Cas."

"Sleep, Dean," he whispered in Dean's ear. "I'll watch over you."