Chapter 51.

If he had thought about it, Cas would have switched his phone to silent after Jules fell asleep, bundled in a blanket and wrapped in his arms. He hadn't seen how tired she was, but after she fell asleep, he realised that she had not mentioned sleeping and their bed had not looked slept in.

He could be slow about such things. Not needing sleep himself, he sometimes forgot how important it was to humans. No wonder she had cried so easily, reminded of her brother's death after a night without sleep.

A night without sleep for him. He had no doubts about that. She had been awake because she had known he was out in the wilds with Dean, Sam and Jack and she had feared he would be hurt, physically or emotionally, by his best friend and his involuntary hostility.

She had not slept long when the ringtone woke her.

"It's Dean, isn't it?" she said.

"Hello, Dean." said Cas, nodding to her.

"Time to wake Sam." said Dean, his voice maddeningly neutral, "I'm ready to come home."

"Yes." said Cas. Either Dean was trying to conceal his hatred or he was feeling bad about the things he had said before. Keeping things uncomplicated was clearly best for both of them.

"Good." said Dean, "Thanks."

"You're welcome." said Cas. He put the phone beside the bed and said, "I have to wake Sam. I'll be back very soon."

She nodded. "I'm okay, Cas."

"Yes." he said. He bent to kiss her.

"Cas ... " she said.

"Hmm?" he said.

"Shirt." she said, gesturing to where he had cast it aside.

"Thanks." he said.

He arrived at Sam's room looking respectable. He knocked on the door out of habit and then remembered that Sam was deeply asleep until he told him otherwise. He went in and woke Sam with a light touch on his shoulder.

Sam's eyes opened. "Hey, Cas." he said.

"Your brother called. He's ready."

"How did he sound?" said Sam.

"I would have to say, guarded." said Cas.

"Great, so we have no idea what state of mind he's in."

"We know he's not yelling hatred at angels." said Cas.

"Always glass half full, aren't you, Cas?" said Sam, "I'll shower and change, then go see what we have."

"Sam, tread carefully. I'm sure time with Sarah is always good for him, but it can also stir up things that might be, for a time, unhelpful."

Sam nodded. "I know, Cas. I'm dreading this."

"You wanted to go."

"Yes. I need to go, but there's a good chance he'll resent me so much for going, he won't speak to me for a week." Sam looked at him closely. "Are you okay?"

"Of course." said Cas.

"Yeah, you tend to say that when you're not."

"Well, today, I am."

"You talked to Jules?"

"Yes, we talked."

"And you didn't break up?"

"We're closer than ever." said Cas, "In fact, I should get back to her."

"Yeah. Thanks for waking me."

Cas nodded and left, hurrying back to his own room. There, he lay on the bed and put his arm around Jules. "I'm back." he said. He smiled. "Probably not information you needed. I waste words."

"I'm glad you're back," she said, "And none of your words are wasted on me. For so long, you said so little."

"Too little?" he said, "I'm wary of saying too much around humans. I don't like the sighs and the eye rolls and when Dean says ... "

"I'm not Dean."

"No, you're not." he said.

"I could listen to you forever."

"I'm constantly aware that the things I say are often wrong, or badly phrased or inconsequential." he said.

"You've spent most of your time on Earth feeling horribly self-conscious, haven't you?"

"Yes, but at least I'm now conscious that I have a self." He looked into her shining eyes and said softly, "And that that self is loved."

"He loves you too, Cas. They all do. Every time he says something that hurts you, he feels terrible."

"I know he does. I know he doesn't mean any of it, especially now."

"No, not one word."

"The trouble is, some of it happens to be true and if you asked him, he'd admit that. He tries not to say it. Sometimes he manages to keep it inside. I know it's true, though. I hear it whether he says it or not."

"And whether he thinks it or not and whether it's true or not." She took his hand and kissed it. "My beautiful angel, more than a decade ago, you broke free of Heaven's control so why are you still flogging yourself with Heaven's scourge?"

"I was supposed to be pure and perfect. By any standard; Heaven's, Earth's, Dean's or yours, I am weak and flawed."

"Not by mine." she said, "To me, you will always be perfect. But my perfect has never been cold marble and sterile sanctity. It's flesh and blood and a willingness to fight for those you love."

"Speaking of those I love, you need sleep, my Shulamite. You didn't sleep at all, last night, did you?"

"How did you know that?"

"I know you." he said, "You're very tired. You were worrying about me."

"Yes. I wished I could be there to take care of you."

"Sam did a good job of that. So did Dean. At some point, he just stopped hating me."

"Dean has never hated you and never will." she said.

"Michael made him hate me." he said, hating Michael.

"Nothing will ever make him hate you." she insisted, "He fought off those feelings."

"Or repressed them. He's a master of repression. All hunters are."

"A few angels, too." she said.

"It's not repression when we do it." he said firmly, "It's self-control."

"Uh-huh. That's what we hunters call it too. But today, we're not concerned with self-control, remember? Feelings are there to be felt."

"Any and all feelings." he said. He wanted her to know that she could cry in front of him again if she needed to.

"Any and all." she said, "Now, get that shirt off again."

"Just the shirt?" he said.

"How brave are you feeling?"