Gabriel had quickly become bored with watching Dean stare at Castiel. He knew the man was imagining his friend as a female and trying not to be obvious about it.

Gabriel conjured a reclining chair and stretched out parallel to his brother. He could almost hear the levers in Dean's head clanking away. The human had slipped his hand under Castiel's palm, because holding hands while the Angel was unconscious was somehow better than admitting the attraction between them.

Something very odd shuddered through Angel radio. A voice which had fallen silent spoke again.

Gabriel sat up slowly, knowing there were very few beings capable of bringing an Angel back to life.

"I need to speak to Jane," Gabriel said suddenly, "I will be back shortly."

Dean didn't respond; mainly because he didn't care. His attention remained fixed on Cas, right up until the moment Gabriel returned. Then, an odd though intruded upon his musing.

"I thought you were going to stay with Cas until he wakes; is something important happening?"

Gabriel resumed his position on the recliner before he began his explanation, "An Angel who was killed was just brought back to life; I heard him on Angel radio. It appears Jane wished for her soulmate, and he is alive again."

"She can do that?" Dean realized, "Shit."

"I didn't realize she had that much power," Gabriel admitted, "I've sent out a call to bring the resurrected Angel to the street outside."

"Why?" Dean demanded, "This place is supposed to be secret. Who's the Angel?"

"Balthazar."

Dean gaped at the Archangel, "Balthazar? Didn't Cas kill him? Won't he be pissed?"

Gabriel shrugged, "Maybe, but I won't let him hurt Castiel. In Heaven, Angels pair up within their garrisons for medical support. Castiel and Balthazar are deeply connected by bonds of shared battles and repeatedly saving each other's lives."

Dean didn't realize that his hand had tightened around Castiel's fingers, "Could he help Cas recover?"

"Possibly."

Gabriel wanted to chuckle at the way Dean was so wrapped up in the Angel and was so determined to believe the feelings were platonic.

"Is Jane planning on bringing more Angels back from the dead?"

"I doubt it; it must have been a deep, desperate longing for her soulmate. She doesn't have the power to bring back anyone else," Gabriel mused.

"And after getting Balthazar, of all Angels, I wouldn't want to make that mistake twice," Dean muttered, "This place is turning into a motel."

"And Meg wants to check in," Gabriel agreed, "Do you think she'll make a play for Castiel if he's in your body?"

Gabriel smiled at the disgust in Dean's expression. Bringing Meg to the bunker would be worth the trouble, just to watch the fall-out.

"Gross," Dean muttered.

"Not into threesomes?" Gabriel teased.

"Not with a Demon."

"To each their own," Gabriel said cheerfully.

Dean pushed aside thoughts of horny Demons to preserve his sanity. He wondered if Cas was interested in Meg for a moment, before quashing the thought.

Gabriel could hear Dean's thoughts when he chose to listen. He allowed humans their privacy most of the time, as the babble of thoughts were usually as interesting as dirt. In this instance, he didn't need to listen, as Dean's thoughts were practically written on his face.

Gabriel sensed Castiel begin to shake off the shackles of unconsciousness. He watched his brother closely for any movement. He was not surprised that the first evidence of Castiel awakening was the grip tightening around Dean's hand.

"Cas?" Dean said hopefully.

Castiel mumbled Dean's name.

"I'm here too, Castiel," Gabriel injected, "You know, if you care."

"Don't be a dick, Gabby," Dean hissed.

Castiel reached out toward Gabriel with his free hand. Gabriel caught it with both of hands.

"Thank-you, brother," Castiel said gravely.

"You're welcome," Gabriel said softly, sounding sincere, "Dean has a generous offer to discuss with you, and I expect you to accept it."

Gabriel released Castiel's hand, offered a small smile and retreated from the room. He resisted the urge to drop a comment about the sexual tension in the air and was rather proud of himself for being so considerate.

Castiel looked down at his hand, which was wrapped in Dean's warm fingers. He could feel the fragment of Grace in the Hunter and realized he was drawing strength from it.

"Your shoulder," Castiel said worriedly, "Is it burning?"

Dean shook his head, "No; it's warm but not painful."

"I am drawing energy from you," Castiel explained, "My Grace is reaching out to the piece in you."

Castiel felt the twitch in Dean's hand, which travelled through his whole body.

"So, it's true?" Dean asked quietly, "You ripped out a piece of yourself to sew me back together?"

"Yes," Castiel replied softly, dropping his gaze to the pillow.

"Cas, why didn't you tell me?" Dean's voice broke and his throat burned. He was determined not to cry, and his willpower was fuelled by Winchester stubbornness.

"I didn't see the point in telling you," Castiel explained, "You felt unworthy of being saved from Hell; how could I add to that burden by revealing what I had done?"

"Is that the 'profound bond' you mentioned?" Dean asked, "And why you answer my prayers more than Sam's? Did saving me taint you like that Angel claimed?"

Castiel shifted his weight onto his elbows and pressed both hands into the trembling fingers which tried to pull away.

"My orders were to retrieve you from Hell," Castiel said flatly, "But your soul is the brightest, most compelling thing I have ever seen. I chose to infuse your soul with my Grace, and I don't regret it."

Dean huffed a laugh, "You gave me a soul hickey."

Castiel couldn't repress a small smile, "Yes, and it was scandalous."

While his instincts ordered him to shut up, drop the hand in his and retreat from the room, Dean knew he owed Cas more than a scared retreat. He steeled himself to do something cringeworthy; talk about feelings.

"Is that why I'm drawn to you? I don't even know how to describe it," Dean admitted.

"Probably," Castiel replied thoughtfully, "We had to be highly compatible in the first place, for me to get you out of Hell."

"Gabriel's soul-mate theory," Dean said uncomfortably.

"Angels don't usually feel the need to bond with a human soul," Castiel said, sounding ashamed, "Naomi said there was always something broken in me."

"She's wrong," Dean said vehemently, "Having empathy isn't a sign of weakness, but of strength."

"Emotions are troublesome, and very hard to control," Castiel mused, "I never realized how overpowering they can be."

"I plan to teach you how to manage them, or at least help," Dean offered.

Castiel tilted his head curiously, "How?"

"You need a vessel with a human soul to help you heal," Dean stated, trying to sound like the very idea didn't terrify him, "I'm the logical choice."

Castiel stared at the Hunter and his wings trembled. Heavy seconds passed before he found his voice, "Dean, I know how traumatising it was being pressured to be Michael's vessel. I couldn't do that to you."

"You're not doing anything," Dean argued, "I'm offering. Having all of your Grace together will help, won't it?"

Castiel tried to move away, only to flinch when the tips of his wings caught against the mattress. He had almost forgotten that they were corporeal.

"I need to put my wings away," Castiel said heavily, "May I draw on your strength?"

"Sure. They're impressive, but from the way the psycho lady was talking, they're private? I didn't really get it," Dean admitted.

Castiel closed his eyes and began chanting in Enochian. Dean felt his shoulder begin to tingle. The wings glowed and faded slightly. To Dean, they looked like ghost wings; they were present but transparent.

Castiel fell silent and sighed with relief.

"Um, Cas? I can still see your feathery bits."

"Are they as solid as they were before the chant?" Castiel asked.

"No; they're kind of see-through. Is that bad?"

Castiel rolled away from Dean and sat up slowly, "If you can see them now, then you always will. I suspect that manifesting them and drawing on the Grace in your soul has given you an awareness most humans never achieve."

"Cas, don't get up yet; you'll fall," Dean moved around the bed, ready to catch the stubborn Angel if he tried to stand.

"Did you or Sam suffer any injury?"

"We're both fine, and you're avoiding questions like a lawyer," Dean pointed out, "Can you explain the wings thing?"

Castiel knew his wings compressed tightly against his back when Dean mentioned them, "Wings are very private; it would be like a human wandering around in public without clothing."

"Ah, so it's awkward that a bunch of people have seen your feathery bits?"

"In a way, yes."

Dean was struck by a disturbing thought, "So, when I said they were beautiful, I was complementing your junk? Damn, Gabby will never let me live that down."

"I doubt Gabriel will mention it; he would be reminded of the five Angels who died yesterday," Castiel assured him sadly.

That reminded Dean of the slow death of the one Angel he considered to be family.

"Ten years is a short time to someone as old as the Universe," Dean said worriedly, "Why didn't you mention that you were dying?"

Castiel regarded Dean with the gaze he struggled to escape from, "It didn't seem relevant."

Dean shoved the Angel in the arm, "Are you stoned? You're dying! How is that 'not relevant'?"

"You are not interested in bonding with me, which is the only way to prevent my death," Castiel reasoned, "So there was no advantage to telling you about it."

"If you weren't wounded, I'd punch you for being so stupid," Dean said flatly.

Castiel blinked at him with puzzlement, "How would that help?"

Dean snatched up the pillow, pressed it over his face and screamed into the soft surface.

"Are you ill?" Castiel asked worriedly.

Dean threw aside the pillow, and turned to face the confused Angel, "This isn't 'ill', Cas. This is frustration with the Dope of the Universe. Stop trying to throw your life away; it pisses me off!"

Castiel stared at the wall in front of him, "Gabriel said something similar. His plan to save my life is as odd as you would expect."

"Switching your vessel to a woman? He dropped some anvil hints about it."

Castiel froze in place. He knew that if the conversation went badly, his friendship with Dean could be irreparably damaged.

"I'm not good at talking, Cas," Dean said honestly, "If being your vessel for a while will sort this out, you have my consent."

"Dean, there is no way to predict how the Grace in you would affect us," Castiel warned, his eyes still fixed on the wall.

Dean huffed with annoyance, "You're willing to get a sex change on the slim hope that I get over my mountain of baggage. Can't I offer you space in my head to heal?"

"Why?"

Dean snapped his head up to view Castiel's profile. The Angel remained motionless, and there was a wild look in his face which reminded the Hunter of their ill-fated visit to the brothel.

"I love you, Cas," Dean whispered, "And I need to know if it's because you're my best friend, or something more."

Dean's eyes were drawn to the trembling wings perched on the Angel's back. He could see the individual feathers shaking.

"I would have access to all your memories, thoughts and dreams," Castiel warned in a trembling voice, "And I suspect you would have access to mine."

"Would my brain explode?" Dean asked worriedly.

Castiel chuckled softly, "No. Well, not literally. I am sure it would change both of us in ways we can't predict."

"Then, let's get Gabriel in here to supervise," Dean said decisively, "Where are the keys to those handcuffs?"

"I have it," Gabriel announced happily from the doorway.

Dean jumped to his feet and turned to glare at the Archangel, "You should wear a bell!"

"I tried that once," Gabriel revealed, "Not my style. Castiel, are we moving you into Dean? I must say, everyone who sees you two gazing at each other assumes you've been in him at some stage."

Castiel shook his head while Dean tried to deny any such act and call Gabriel rude names at the same time.

"Ignore him, Dean," Castiel advised wearily, "He enjoys making you uncomfortable."

Dean glanced down at him with a frown. Castiel stretched out on the bed, which looked quite weird; his wings were poking out either side of the mattress.

"Dean can still see my wings," Castiel informed Gabriel.

The Archangel moved forward with a thoughtful expression, "Interesting. Can you see mine?" There was a note of worry in his voice.

"No."

"Good!" Gabriel said happily, "Let's get this vessel-swap underway."