A/N: Please forgive this long, ramble-y, fluffy chapter. Most of this was written late at night so idek if makes sense lol.

Eighteen

They finally made it to the bunker, three and a half hours later, stopping momentarily, once, to eat, and so that Brooke could check on Castiel's arm wound. He had done his best cleaning and bandaging it on his own, one-handed, as she drove away from the store. She checked to make sure the bandage was holding, and wasn't soaked in blood, and then reached into the plastic bag and passed him a sandwich.

It was a great relief to walk down those echo-y steps into the bunker, but when Brooke called out for Sam and Dean, she got no answer. Kevin didn't appear, either, even after numerous calls. Brooke shut her eyes, listening for the sounds of footsteps or other movement anywhere in the bunker, but she heard nothing. She did feel something sinister, in the back of her mind, but she chalked it up to the eerie silence and the worry over where everyone was. Concerned, she called Dean.

"Hey, you make it to the bunker?" he asked, upon answering.

"Yeah. Cass is… fine, mostly. A little beat up, still human, but fine." Brooke looked around the empty bunker. "Where are you guys? And where's Kevin? I thought he was here."

"Kevin's not there?" Dean asked, alarmed. "Damn it…" He sighed.

"Do you want me to go out and look for him? He can't have gone far… There's nothing out here."

"No," said Dean. "No, look. Sam and I are on a case, but we'll try find Kevin. Stay in the bunker with Cass. The angels… they're looking for him, still."

"I know. We had to kill one who followed us into a store." Brooke rubbed her face with her hand. "And before I got to him, Cass said some angel wanted to possess him."

"Gross," said Dean.

"Yeah, that's what I said," Brooke replied. "Hey, how's Sam?"

"Sam's doing better. He's not a hundred percent, yet, but he's gettin' there."

"Good," Brooke said.

There was a pause.

"All right, well… Just stay there. I don't know how long we'll be, especially not if we have to go find Kevin. And, hey, uh… Don't go in the dungeon."

Brooke paused, feeling anxious. "Why?" she asked, dragging the word out.

"Crowley's back there. He's locked down; he can't escape and he can't hurt you. But he's there. Just… stay away from him."

"Right," Brooke said, faintly. She hung up. Crowley was responsible for Meg's murder. He deserved to die. But if he had been chained up by Sam and Dean, then they needed him alive for something. Numbly, Brooke turned and began to walk to her room.

"Brooke?" Castiel asked, noticing her strange behavior.

She stopped, but did not look at him, her eyes staring blankly ahead.

"Brooke," he repeated, stepping in front of her. "What is it? What did Dean say?"

She shook her head, and rested her forehead against his chest. "I'm just tired," she lied.

"I may not be able to read your mind anymore," Castiel said, quietly, "but I know when you're lying to me."

She took a shuddering breath. "Meg. I just… miss her." She cleared her throat, pulling her head away from his chest, and forced herself not to cry. "Crowley's here. In the dungeon."

"Dungeon?" Castiel repeated.

"Yeah, it's…" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. He's locked up. He can't get out. It's fine." She grabbed his chin in her hand. "Don't go looking for him. Don't go near him. You're human now. He doesn't need to know that, and I won't let him manipulate you, somehow."

"You think I'd let him manipulate me?" Castiel asked, looking a little hurt.

Brooke smiled, though there was no joy in it, and cupped his face in her hands. "I don't know how to say this nicely. Everyone manipulates you. Zachariah, Uriel, Crowley, Naomi, Metatron… You're a little naïve." She sighed. "To be fair, Metatron manipulated us both, and so did Naomi."

Castiel looked crestfallen.

She wrapped her arms around him, feeling bad for, well, making him feel bad. "It's not a crime to believe the best in people," she said. "But maybe be a little more discerning next time."

He rested his chin on top of her head and murmured. "Well, I had good judgment with you, at least. And Sam and Dean."

"Yes," she agreed, holding him for a moment. Then she pulled away. "Come on. I need a shower, and so do you."

###

Castiel spent a long time in the shower, and Brooke lay on her bed, thinking of nothing important and waiting for him to get out so that she could take hers. She had let him go first, since this would be his first shower ever, and she wanted him to be able to experience it with as much hot water as he wanted. She had warned him to be careful with the shampoo and not to get any of it into his eyes, and then left him alone in the bathroom.

When he came back to her room, she was dozing lightly, but woke up, sensing a presence in the room. He was holding his clothes balled up under one arm, wrapped in nothing but a towel, his hair damp. A trickle or two of water ran down his neck, his chest. Brooke sat up in the bed, staring at her husband with half-lidded eyes, her gaze tracing the muscles in his arms and chest (the cut on his arm was freshly bandaged), the delicate collarbone, the curve of his neck, the day-old stubble on his face. Finally, she met his eyes.

He stared at her for a moment, and then looked away with a small smile.

"What?" she asked, annoyed, once more, that she could not simply read his thoughts.

"I was…" Castiel cleared his throat. "I was worried you wouldn't find me attractive anymore… now that I'm human. But I guess I don't need to worry about that."

Brooke stood up, smiling at him in amusement. "You were worried I wouldn't find you attractive?" she asked. "Have you seen yourself?"

"Much of your attraction to me has to do with… how much bigger and stronger I am than you, because I'm—because I was—an angel." He glanced at her, then looked down. "Now that I'm only human, I was worried… maybe I'd be too fragile for you."

Brooke chuckled, quietly. "First of all, you're not fragile. You're still strong, and, technically, you're still bigger than me. Secondly, as long as you can still give me that look, then you'll be just as sexy to me as you've always been."

He drew his brows together as he looked at her. "What look?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Like you're angry about something, or someone's giving you shit about something, but they're beneath you."

Castiel looked startled. "I look at you like that?"

"Well," she began, "your… I wanna fuck you right now look… is pretty close to your angry look."

He gazed at nothing, behind her head, eyes flicking here and there as he tried to figure out what she was talking about. Then, after a moment, his expression cleared. He stepped closer to her, so that she could feel his breath on her face—minty, from toothpaste. Slowly, he lifted his head so that he was looking at her down his nose, then he lifted one eyebrow in a perfect arch.

Brooke felt warmth spread between her legs. "Yes," she whispered. "That look."

His eyes softened, just a bit, and one corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her.

She tugged at the towel around his waist and when it fell to their feet, she dropped with it, in front of him. He stared down at her, mouth slightly open in surprise. She smiled mischievously up at him and took him into her mouth. He groaned and automatically tangled the fingers of one hand into her hair.

…

When he had finished, and stood before her on trembling legs, she rose from the ground with a smile and said, "I think I'll take that shower now."

Castiel was breathing heavily, staring at her as if he had never seen her before. His cheeks were flushed. "Has it always felt like that?" he asked, faintly.

She paused. "Does it feel different now?"

"Yes," he said, his voice still low and gruff. "It feels… more. Better."

She smirked at him. "Well, I guess being human has some perks." She placed a hand on his cheek for a moment, and then turned to head for the shower.

He stopped her, pulling lightly on her arm.

She turned. "Hmm?"

His blue eyes were intense. "Lay down," he ordered. "It's your turn."

###

They spent the rest of the day doing, pretty much, whatever they wanted. Sam and Dean never appeared, and neither did Kevin, so they had the bunker to themselves (aside from Crowley, whom Brooke tried very hard to forget about).

She spent most of her time quietly watching Castiel, just to see what he would do with his time, now that he was human. He wandered about, pattering on quiet feet, running his hands along the books on the bookshelves, squinting at the titles. She left him for a bit to do some laundry, tutting at the blood on his old clothes, knowing that she'd never be able to get it all out.

When they got hungry, they wandered into the kitchen, opening cupboards in search of food, but the place was mostly bare.

Brooke was loathe to go out and get food, afraid bring Castiel out of the safety of the bunker, but also afraid to leave him there by himself, with Crowley. She didn't know why she was afraid of Crowley—he was literally chained to the floor and surrounded by a devil's trap that could not be smudged out with a foot. Still, his presence in the bunker irked her, and she wouldn't leave Castiel alone with only a demon for company if she could help it. Finally, she found a box of mac 'n' cheese and pulled it out of the back of the cupboard triumphantly. "Okay, all we need is milk," she said, and immediately frowned. If they did have milk, it would be spoiled, probably. She opened the fridge again. The milk was, indeed, spoiled, but they had a lot of butter, for some reason. "Plan B. Use a lot of butter."

As the water for the pasta boiled, she sent Dean a text: Bring back food. Low on groceries.

The mac 'n' cheese didn't end up too bad, though she was mildly afraid she'd give herself a heart attack eating so much butter. They didn't dish it out into bowls, but merely sat down, side by side, hovering over the pot, dipping spoons into the pasta one after the other. The best part about it was the big smile on Castiel's face after the first bite.

Brooke laughed. "The best tasting food is usually the worst for you," she said.

Castiel continued to smile, chewing appreciatively. "You were right, earlier," he said. "Being human does have its perks."

She was hit with the memory of him groaning in pleasure, holding her hair tightly in one fist, whole body trembling. A slow, sensual smile spread across her face. "Which perk is your favorite so far?" she asked, raising one eyebrow and staring at him. "The food… or the sex?"

His eyes flared, and he leaned quickly over and kissed her.

She laughed into his kiss and mumbled against his lips, "Mmm… You taste like butter."

He pulled back and stared at her for a moment in surprise, and then laughed—a real, full-throated, human laugh. And it sounded glorious.

###

Sam and Dean showed up the next morning, their voices echoing through the halls. Brooke and Castiel padded out of their room, having slept well. Brooke had shoved her bed over against one wall, out of the way, and then taken the mattress off of it put it on the ground. Then she'd gone into another room and pulled the mattress off of that bed and dragged it into her room, and shoved it up against the first one. There were only single beds in the Men of Letters bunker, so this was the best they could do unless they went out and bought an entirely new bed.

Brooke could immediately feel Ezekiel's presence, the angel who was possessing and healing Sam, when the Winchester brothers entered the bunker. But it was muted, and when she heard Sam speaking, she could tell that he was the one in charge of his body. She and Cass made their way to the main room, and the brothers' faces lit up when they saw them, especially when they saw Castiel.

"Hey, man," Dean said, and pulled Cass in for a hug. "How you likin' the whole human thing?"

"It's… not as bad as I thought it would be, all things considered," Castiel replied, with a small smile. "Of course, I get injured much easier now, but… other than that…"

Brooke sighed, touching her husband's arm. "I do miss the… Vulcan mind-meld thing, as everyone calls it."

He turned to her with sad eyes. "Yes," he murmured. "I miss it, too."

Even the closeness of sex did not compare to the closeness they had once shared when their minds had been connected, free to pass thoughts and emotions, words and images, back and forth between themselves.

"Don't be downers," Dean admonished, and held up a plastic bag. "I brought food. Burritos."

Brooke grinned and took the bag from him. "Thanks." Suddenly, she thought of something. "Hey, did you find Kevin?"

"Ah, yeah," Dean said. "He was going nuts from, you know, Crowley. We found him and put him up at a motel room for a few days, to get away."

Brooke nodded. "I can't blame him," she muttered, thinking of Meg, but she did not elaborate out loud.

There was a lull in the conversation for a moment, and then Castiel smiled around at all of them, contentedly. "You know, I am really enjoying this place. Good food, good water pressure. Things I never even considered before. There really is a lot to being human, isn't there?"

Brooke smiled lovingly at her husband, who was taking his transition into humanity fairly well. She would not have blamed him for falling apart, but he hadn't.

"It's not all burritos and strippers, my friend," Dean said, raising his burrito in Cass' honor and then biting into it.

"Yeah," said Cass, "I understand what you're saying."

Sam scoffed. "You do?"

"Yes," Castiel replied. "There's more to humanity than survival. You must not be defeated by anger or despair. You… do your best, and try to focus on the good parts instead of the bad. Instead of focusing on the fact that the other angels all want me dead, I've… chosen to focus on the fact that I am safe, and warm, and in good company."

All three of them were smiling as he spoke. His words filled Brooke with happiness, and she was grateful that she'd gotten to him and brought him back here, where he could learn to be human in safety.

"And I finally know what sex is supposed to feel like," Castiel added, chuckling.

Brooke was a little embarrassed, but more amused than anything. Even after everything, Cass was still Cass—as socially awkward as ever.

The boys were looking away, awkwardly, but Castiel continued on, without seeming to have noticed. "It was… sort of dulled before. Muted. More of a mental exercise, at least for me. I'm sure Brooke enjoyed it—

"O-kay," said Dean, loudly. He gripped Castiel's shoulder in a friendly gesture, patted it, and said, "Enjoy your burritos."

Sam, for his part, was simply staring at the ceiling, a little red-faced.

Brooke laughed. "What are you two, twelve?" she asked, teasing them both. "Come on, Cass. Let's go eat our burritos."

They settled at a table, in the alcove, and began to eat.

Brooke studied her husband across the table as she chewed her burrito. After a few moments, he noticed her looking and tilted his head questioningly.

"If I ask you a question, will you answer honestly?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, giving her his most serious look to show that he was paying attention.

"Did you ever actually enjoy sex, before now? As an angel, I mean?"

He blinked. "Yes, I did—very much. I did feel it, physically. If I hadn't, I'm not sure I would have been able to maintain an erection. However, most of the enjoyment came from being mentally connected to you, who are human. Through you, I got an inkling of what sex was supposed to feel like to a human, but…" He paused, looking off at nothing, collecting his thoughts. "When I said that sex was a mental exercise, what I meant was that, for me, most of my enjoyment was about being connected to you, mentally. Feeling your feelings, hearing your thoughts during sex. It was about the emotional intimacy, more than anything." He glanced away, then back again, smiling. "And it was about… knowing the right things to do, to make you feel good."

Brooke smiled. "I appreciate you always putting my needs before your own, but… sex is a two-person thing."

"Yes," he replied. "But… Do you recall a conversation I had with you, many years ago, when I told you that, as an angel, as a soldier, I… felt the need to follow orders?"

Brooke reached back into her memory. "Yes, I think so. That was after you launched yourself at me from the passenger seat of my car." She smiled in amusement.

He inclined his head. "Of course sex is about both people, but for me… a lot of my enjoyment comes from your enjoyment." He chuckled. "Odd, isn't it? What I want most is to please you, but what you want most is to please me, so I have to… switch. I please you by becoming dominating."

Brooke scoffed light-heartedly. "Are you trying to tell me that you're not actually dominating at all? Because I absolutely don't believe that. You are when you need to be—trust me, I've seen it."

Castiel looked a little uncomfortable, and seemed to be about to say something, when Dean walked up the stairs and over to them.

Castiel smiled at him and raised the burrito in his hand. "Epic food," he said. "I can't get enough."

Brooke laughed. "Did you just say epic?"

Cass looked at her.

She shook her head said, still smiling. "You're such a dork."

"Guys, uh, can we talk?" Dean asked, and his face betrayed a seriousness that Brooke became instantly worried about. She studied him as he stood there, and he could not meet her eyes.

"Of course," Castiel said, and pulled out a chair for Dean sit down. "Dean, you know I always appreciate our talks, our time together."

Brooke looked down at the table for a moment, a small smile gracing her lips at the precious words that had just come out of her husband's mouth. Since becoming human, he was reminding her more and more of when he had assumed the identity of a healer named Emmanuel—that gentle, heartfelt nature that had poured from him as easily as breathing.

But when she looked up at Dean, he seemed even more uncomfortable, and now he would not meet Castiel's eyes, either. He sat down, but not in the chair that Cass had proffered, choosing, instead, to sit on the corner of the table. "Listen, guys," he said, staring pointedly away from the both, "Um… Cass can't stay here."

Brooke stared at Dean. "What?"

Dean pursed his lips, looking supremely uncomfortable. "Look, it's… I would love for you to stay." Finally, he met Castiel's eyes. "But, it's Sam. He's still not at a hundred percent, and… you've got a price on your head. If all the angels get together to go after you, and they find this place… we're all screwed."

The Grace in Brooke's blood flared to life like fire in her veins. "So you would throw him to the wolves?" she demanded.

"Dean is right," Castiel said, quietly.

Brooke whipped her head around to look at him, shocked at how little he thought of himself, and saw the pain and betrayal in his eyes. He would go if it meant protecting Sam, but he was devastated that Dean would force him to go at all. He looked heartbroken.

"I just don't understand," Brooke said. "Why did you let us in the bunker in the first place if you were just gonna kick Cass out? What the fuck, Dean?" She stared at the Winchester for a moment, and then saw Sam, behind him and down the stairs. "Oh…" she breathed. "Is this about Ez—

"Yes," Dean cut her off. "I'll—I'll let you explain to Cass, okay? But after you leave."

Castiel now looked thoroughly confused, and still betrayed and depressed. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Look," said Dean, "I won't let you leave with nothing. I'll give you some money, some credit cards… hex bags for protection. W-Whatever you need."

Brooke closed her eyes and breathed, trying to stop the feeling of wanting to lunge across the table and tackle Dean Winchester to the floor. He loves you, she wanted to tell him, and shake him by the collar. He loves you, and trusts you, and you're throwing him out! Can't you see the hurt in his eyes? Don't you care?

But she said none of this. "Let me go get some stuff, then." She stood up, pushing the chair back so hard that it scraped, loudly, against the floor. Then she leaned down, putting her palms against the table and stared at Castiel. "Don't you try to tell me I'm not coming with you," she warned.

He still looked to be in pieces, but he glanced up at her with big, sad, blue eyes, and murmured, "And Ruth said…" Entreat me not to leave thee.

She stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded once, and went off to her room to collect whatever she thought she'd need. Multiple cellphones, a laptop, her wallet, some paperwork… Clothes. She picked up Castiel's usual outfit that she had washed. The blood had not come out, entirely. The dress shirt and the collar of his trench coat were stained pink, but she could not bare to leave them—especially not the coat.

She found herself suddenly reminiscing, remembering the first time she had met him, his hair disheveled like he'd stuck his finger into a light socket… She could picture him walking toward her, as if from a long way off, his coat fanning around him like a second pair of wings. She pressed the coat to her nose and inhaled the scent of laundry soap, then pulled it over her shoulders. Castiel was taller than her, so the coat went almost to the ground, but she didn't mind. It made her feel safe, wearing it, as if it were not the coat around her, but Castiel himself.

She looked up at the sound of footsteps and saw him looking at her. His eyes were still so heartbreakingly sad, yet he found it in himself to smile, his eyes trailing her body, amused at the image of her wearing his coat. "It's too big for you," he said, quietly, and walked up to her, tugging at the coat so that it sat a little better on her shoulders.

"I like it being too big," she replied. "Reminds me of you."

He placed his forehead against hers, cupping her face in his hands, and sighed, closing his eyes. "I should have known it was too good to last," he whispered.

"Hey," Brooke said, pulling back to look at him. "Just because we're out of the bunker doesn't mean we can't have fun. Look, it means I can show you all the cool stuff about being human. Discovering all the food you like, choosing the clothes you wear, learning to shave…" She shrugged. "You wanna spend a fuck-ton of money and go to Disneyland? You could ride a rollercoaster for the first time, and it would actually be fun—or maybe terrifying."

He smiled at her, and his eyes seemed a little less sad. "Why don't you choose," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "You're always following me, wherever I go. Why don't I follow you, for a change. Whither thou goest…"