Warning for…well something. A little violence, a little foul language, some heavy words and possible (reference to) non/con…

The following week was hectic. Dean knew it would take some adjustment, considering Cas wouldn't have that much free time, but he never thought how hard he would take it. First few days they met after the lunch rush, shared a meal right there at Jack's, then Dean would go back to work and Cas would do the same. Since their shifts matched, Dean drove Cas to and from work, both of them grateful for this convenience and for the opportunity to spend their leisure time together, as much of it as possible.

Sometimes they cooked together when they got home, sometimes they would have take out, and sometimes they would go out. They cleaned together and did the laundry together. Before, Cas would have insisted on doing most of these things by himself, often pushing Dean to go and relax after a hard day of work. Now, as Dean tried to pitch in a little more, he found Cas to be… Too jittery. It was like he was anxious and worried that he won't be able to do all he intended to and it started to get to him. Dean tried to reassure him that it didn't matter if a glass was left in the sink overnight, or if the laundry wasn't folded as soon as the washer finished the cycle, but it was harder and harder to get him to listen.

"Cas, man, you have to relax. There will be dust here again tomorrow, you don't have to vacuum now. We could do a whole-house clean on the weekend." Dean offered, trying to persuade Cas to relax a little after they made dinner and washed the dishes on Thursday afternoon. It took Cas way too long to decide what to do, worrying his lower lip and looking around the living room. "Let's sit and watch a movie? I got that blanket you like, we could cuddle. And I got a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Dean smiled knowing that he got Cas' attention. He nodded and picked up the paperbag he brought from work.

"Yeah, turns out Lee is a fan of Brendan Fraser and he has quite a collection of his movies. I got George of the Jungle, Monkeybone, Bedazzled, Blast from the past, um, what's this? Oh, yeah, we got the whole Mummy series, and oh! Looney Tunes: Back in Action! I like this one, can we watch that?" Dean was a little excited, he had always loved Looney Tunes and he hoped Cas would agree to see it. He felt a little self-conscious when he looked up and saw Cas smiling widely at him, clearly amused by Dean's enthusiasm.

They snuggled close and Dean started the movie. He had a bag of M&Ms, his favorite snack and since Cas refused to take any himself, Dean opted to try and feed him a few instead. Cas chuckled, but allowed him to, his smile big and happy. It was about twenty minutes into the movie when Dean noticed that Cas wouldn't open his mouth to accept the new piece of candy and when he glanced at him, he found the guy to be asleep.

Dean felt such great affection and protectiveness over him right then. Pulling the blanket, he tucked it around Cas and brought him closer, holding his weight as Cas slept. Poor guy, he was working so hard at the bakery and worrying about house chores on top of that; no wonder he fell asleep, he must have been exhausted. Best Dean could do is let him sleep for a while here, at least while Dean finished the movie and then they could move to the bedroom.

He was glad he managed to distract Cas today, but he was worried about him. Dean told him so many times that cas didn't have to do all this and especially not by himself, that Dean would be happy to help, but the words didn't seem to reach through to him. They needed to really sit down and talk about this, otherwise Cas might run himself into the ground constantly being on his feet, working.

Dean was pleased when Jack told him Cas was a lifesaver, that even Gadreel seemed to be a lot more at ease while working, but Dean worried that maybe Cas took too much on himself. He didn't catch him during the lunch rush, so he couldn't tell for sure, but he did notice how Cas seemed to go slack whenever they took their break afterwards. How he seemed to go completely boneless as soon as his head hit the pillow. Dean hoped that once Cas settled into a new routine, this would all ease up, but as the days went by, that didn't seem to be the case.

Maybe Cas needed a little more time? Dean wondered what else he could do to help him, but nothing came to mind, beside just being patient and keep trying to show him that he didn't have to get himself so wind up over all of it. That night he practically carried Cas up the stairs, the man waking up long enough to brush his teeth before he was out like a light.

When Saturday rolled around, Cas was in another frenzy, wanting to make breakfast, lunch, vacuum, wash the windows, dust, do the laundry, clean out the gutters, iron the curtains, refold the linen closet and scrub down the whole upstairs bathroom. At first Dean offered to do half of what Cas listed, but when he noticed that the more the day went by, the longer the list got, he decided to put a stop to it.

"Can we just sit for a little while? Catch our breaths?" Dean asked when Cas informed him he was going out to pull the grass out of the cracks in their driveway. Dean had already mowed the lawn and cleaned out the backyard and was running on fumes.

"But I still have…"

"Cas, please? We have been working all day, let's relax a little. I can order some pizza for dinner and while we wait we could… Write down the grocery list for tomorrow? Then maybe we could watch another Brendan Fraser movie?" There was once again reluctance on Cas' face, and Dean gave him his most pleading look to try and persuade him to stop finding chores for them to work on. "Please?"

The moment Cas' shoulders sagged, he knew he won. He offered him a smile and kissed him when Cas came close.

They spent Sunday trying to relax a little more, or rather trying to keep Cas relaxed. They did make lunch and went grocery shopping, but after that, Dean went to work in his shed a little while Cas settled in his little armchair with a book in his lap and a glass of lemonade.

They made out that night and lazily stroked one another to a nice, relaxing orgasm.

But then Monday came and things went back to the way they were. Tuesday too. It was Wednesday when Dean decided enough was enough. He woke up only to find that Cas took out all of their dishes and was wiping down the kitchen elements at 6 in the morning. They didn't have time to talk then, but Dean promised himself he would sit Cas down, talk and try to understand what was going on.

It was around 11:30 when Dean walked into the bakery. Gadreel was serving one of the last cops in the place while Cas was busy with a mom and her kid. Dean just stood to the side for a moment, observing as Cas patiently showed each and every cupcake they had before the little girl picked just the right one for her daddy. Affection and pride bubbled up inside of him. Cas was always such a good guy, easygoing and friendly and Dean was glad that didn't fade considering everything he had been through.

Their eyes met across the room and Cas smiled widely at him, then motioned at the little side table that was used by personnel. Dean took a seat and waited to see what kind of a treat Cas would bring for them to share this time. It turned out to be a plate filled with various Danish pastries.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hi, Cas! Oh, wow, these look amazing!" Dean licked his lips at the sight. They really seemed delicious. Cas shushed him, glancing at the kitchen door.

"Shhh, don't let Gabriel hear you. He was so upset they didn't come out even and he scoffs and gets angry at anyone saying they look good." Dean looked them over once again, noticing that yeah, they were just a little bit uneven, but who cared about that if they tasted good? He picked one and took a bite, absolutely confirming that yes, they were awesome!

"Gabriel is out of his mind, these are so freaking delicious that nobody is going to-"

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Dean was rudely interrupted, but he forgot all about it when he saw the man standing close to them and the counter. Nicholas Hatchet also known as "Lucifer". Shit. Good old Nick must have gotten out of jail somehow, and there was no question who he was here to see. And of course, the last cop just left the place.

"Winchester. I should have known you were in cahoots with the kid." Cahoots? Who the fuck says cahoots anymore? Dean never wished more that he was an actual cop now, with an issued weapon and a license to use it.

"And look at that, my favorite bitch is here too." Nick turned towards the counter and that was when Dean noticed how pale Gadreel was. His eyes were wide, filled with fear and tears while his lips were parted, lower one trembling. "Oh, how I missed you, you little cocksucker."

"Hey, what do you think–" Dean was on his feet in no time, stepping towards Nick only to be met with the barrel of his gun. Shit, shit, shit.

"I am thinking I want my son's head on a platter. I didn't expect to find the two of you here, but I gotta say–it's a pleasant surprise. Three flies with one stone." Nick smirked, his face twisting into something heinous, something…evil. He lifted his free hand and pushed Dean back towards his seat. While he did take a few steps back, Dean did not sit down; he needed to be close and alert, he needed to be able to act quickly.

"Why don't you come here, little cocksucker?" Nick cooed, not once taking his eyes off Dean though he did move the gun a little so it wasn't directly aiming at him. Bad thing was–it was pointed at Cas now. Gadreel let out a few little sobs, but still did as Nick instructed him to. Dean gritted his teeth; feeling his anger rise to the surface. He didn't know exactly what Gadeel had gone through while he had been in Nick's service, but he had some idea and he hated it. Hated that a person could be capable of doing something like this to another human being.

"Lock the front and flip the sign, then come right back here." Dean hoped Gadreel would take the chance to run, but he should have known better. The poor guy was too scared to disregard a direct order from the person that had so cruelly dominated him. "On your knees, pet." Nick said, motioning to the spot right in front of him. "Now take out my cock and stroke it until it becomes hard enough for your filthy mouth."

Dean took a deep breath, ready to charge right there and then. Lucky for him, Cas decided to react to Nick's words by gasping; he probably didn't expect Nick to actually say that. It was enough to draw the fucker's attention away from Dean, even if it was a split of a second. Bypassing Gardeel, Dean launched himself at Nick, going for the gun first. The damn thing fired, but luckily it was after Dean managed to push Nick's hand away. There was a sound of glass breaking, yet Dean couldn't deal with that now. He had to get the gun out of Nick's hands.

He gripped the barrel of the weapon with his left hand, trying to wriggle his fingers under Nick's so that he couldn't pull the trigger again. The other hand was preventing the bastard's left one from reaching the gun and somehow in all that scuffle, Nick managed to pull a fast one on him and clonk him in the head with his left elbow. The hit made Dean lose focus for only a second, but it was enough for Nick to act. The son of a bitch punched him again, making Dean step back, giving Nick enough space for another swing. The next thing Dean knew, he was practically flying backwards, hitting the little table he and Cas had been sitting at. The edge hit his back at an awkward angle and Dean felt searing pain shoot up his spine.

He hit the ground, hissing through gritted teeth, but shoved all the pain aside, forcing himself to sit up only to be met with the wrong side of the barrel again. Nick had a pissed of expression on his face and, with the gun trained at Dean and so much determination in the fucker's eyes, Dean thought that was it. He was going to get a bullet between the eyes and it was going to be lights-out for him.

Before life could even think to flash before his eyes, Dean watched, in great horror, as Cas shouted and lurched forward, crashing into Nick. Dean didn't even notice when Cas got so close to them; he must have gotten up when he and Nick were struggling. He wanted to get up, to help Cas, to stop that asshole, but as he tried to move, the same pain shot up his spine again and all he could do was try to ignore the pain and watch as Cas tried to get the gun away from Nick.

A shot echoed loudly in the room, followed by Gadreel's cry and Cas' loud gasp, but all Dean could feel was more pain. Sharp, bile-rising pain making him fall back down on the ground, instinctively gripping his right forearm, feeling the warm blood seep through his fingers. Fuck, he hated getting shot.

There was a shout and then there was Nick, landing on the floor next to Dean, unconscious.

"Dean!" Cas' voice was filled with panic, giving Dean a deja vu feeling, only this wasn't some weird trick of the eye and mind, this was Dean getting shot again in front of Cas. The man was by his side in an instant, trying to roll Dean over; it hurt like a bitch.

But when Dean looked at him and saw blood running down the side of his face, everything went numb. What the fuck happened? How did Cas get hurt, how bad was it? It was bad, of course it was bad, he was bleeding, a head injury, he could have a concussion, there could be brainswellig, he could be… The very next second Dean wasn't in the bakery anymore, but back at that basement, staring at Cas' motionless body and the pool of blood underneath him and he couldn't breathe, he couldn't catch a breath, he couldn't, there was no air, no air in the room, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't, he couldn't, he…

"Aghgh!" Dean screamed as his arm was jostled by someone, but it was enough to break him out of whatever panic attack he was having. Cops were all over the place, which wasn't strange considering the proximity of the bakery to the precinct. People were shouting, someone was pressing Nick's face to the ground and cuffing him, there was another cop next to him, calling dispatch. Dean could hear Gabriel yapping somewhere, but everything kept spinning as Dean took one deep breath after another, eyes darting everywhere, trying to locate Cas. With each passing second that he couldn't locate him, his heart hammered faster and faster.

"'as, where…is Ca…as…"

"You're gonna be okay, Winchester, the ambulance is two minutes out. You were shot in the forearm, but there is a lot of blood here. Try to stay calm, okay?" The cop above him, Caleb said, putting pressure on the wound, making Dean hiss.

"Ca…as, whe… where…" Caleb seemed to realize what Dean was asking 'cause he looked up, glancing all over the room.

"Right there, he's right over there with Rufus. He seems okay, but we'll get the paramedics to look him over, don't worry." Caleb's words calmed the storm brewing in Dean's mind, but he was still on the edge, still worried and scared, constantly asking himself what would have happened if Nick had pulled the trigger while the gun was aimed at Cas. What would have happened if Cas had lost that fight and Nick had shot him point blank? What if hewhad been killed? What if Dean had lost him?

What if Dean had lost him just like he lost dad?

The paramedics arrived, and they asked him a bunch of questions, moving him, touching him, flashing that light thingy into his eyes, but Dean was too distracted, doubt and fear insulting him with questions while his eyes sought out Cas, searching, but not finding him.

He argued with the paramedics who wanted to put him on a stretcher, but agreed once he tried to stand on his own two feet and felt so lightheaded, he nearly toppled over. They put some kind of a tight bandage on his arm to keep it from bleeding and made him hold it up to slow the blood flow. It was only after they wheeled him in and all but one left the ambulance that he noticed Cas sitting on a bench, holding an ice pack to his head.

The man gave him a small, kind smile and Dean just lost it.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Cas flinched when Dean shouted, the smile disappearing, confusion taking its place. "That was really stupid and reckles! You shouldn't have done that, you could have gotten yourself killed! You could have gotten all of us killed!"

After confusion came hurt, especially when Dean basically called him stupid. He knew he shouldn't have said that, he knew Cas just reacted and that he did end up saving the day, but there was so much, so many emotions swirling inside Dean that he had no choice but to let it out.

And then came anger.

"Oh, like what you did wasn't reckless!? Like he couldn't have shot you, killed you!? What was I supposed to do when he pushed you away, stand there and let him do it!?" Cas was screaming by the end of this little tirade, pissed off in a way Dean hadn't seen him before. He had no idea what made him scoff at Cas' words, but as soon as he did, Cas just flipped. He threw the ice pack at the ambulance door, the whole bag exploding upon contact, bits and pieces of ice falling everywhere.

"Fuck this! Fuck you! I never, never fought for myself, because I didn't think it was worth it, not until I met you. One time, this one time I stand up, I decide to fight and this is how you react? Yell at me?! Call me stupid?! Oh, I'm sorry! I guess I am just a big fat idiot for wanting to save your fucking life, save you from a lunatic that wanted to shoot you! What, it's so okay for you to do it with April, but not for me, huh? Everyone can do whatever the fuck they want to, but not Castiel, no! Castiel needs to be told what to do and what not to do... I swear to God, you're just like the rest of them!"

Cas expression turned blank, his eyes widening after he spoke those last words, words that cut so deep, Dean found himself choking on the pain that boomed in his chest.

Was that really how he saw him? Was that what he thought of him? That he was 'just like the rest of them,' Cas had said. Was he? Like his aunt Anna, controlling him? Like his brother Jimmy, using him? He was desperate to keep Cas, to have him in his life, because he didn't want to be alone, but there was more than that. Wasn't there?

Oh, god. What if he really was like the others?

"Dean, I…"

What was he even thinking? That they were going to have a happily ever after? That all their issues would magically work themselves out and that they could just ride off into the sunset? Dean kept him imprisoned. Tied–no, chained to the floor of his fucking basement, starved and dehidrated and hurt and fucking bleeding and, and…

"... I didn't mean…"

Cas was saying something, but Dean didn't hear him, didn't register his soft, quiet words over the thunder of his own heart, raging in his ears. Someone touched him and he flinched; whoever it was took their hand away. Dean's eyes were focused on the line where the window met the chassis of the ambulance, but the light started to blur, so he tried harder and harder, feeling as if he lost it, if he let it get too fuzzy, he would lose this tread and it would all fall apart. He couldn't have it fall apart. He wouldn't be able to handle it falling apart.

Things became a little hazy after that. He was so deep in his thoughts he barely registered when they arrived at the hospital. They were constantly moving him, pushing him on that gurney. Dean thought he heard Cas argue with someone at one point, but maybe it was just his imagination running wild. Lord knew his thoughts were doing just that already.

The last thing he ever wanted was to hurt Cas, in any way. Or hold him back. He just wanted Cas to be happy, possibly safe. And possibly with him, because he… Was all of this just Dean's guilt? He told Cas he loved him, he was so sure he felt it, that it wasn't the guilt or the loneliness talking, but wasn't it? How could he tell? How could he know what he bad been feeling?

Someone was speaking of X Rays, and someone else was talking about surgery.

Blood. There was blood on Cas' head. Was he alright? If he wasn't, Dean would never be able to live with himself. This wasn't someone else's fault. This wasn't Cas' cruel life coming back to haunt him, this was Dean's past. Nick, he didn't know Cas. Nick was there partly because of him. He was pissed because of the things Dean did and the things he helped set in motion and…

"Can you count backwards for me, Dean? You remember how that goes, ten, nine…"

"Eight, seven, six, fi–"

There was darkness. There was nothing. For a long time, there was just nothing.

And then Dean woke up. He was in a hospital room. His arm was in a sort of an open cast. It hurt. Cas was there, sitting on a chair, slumped, sleeping. He was… He had a single bandage on his head, but otherwise seemed okay. That was good. It was good.

He felt strangely empty, dull even. Hours passed, Cas woke up, the doctor came by, and eventually they released him. That feeling didn't go away.

Cas was… There, but not really there. Distant, just within reach. But he was okay. That's what mattered. That's all that mattered.

"Do you want to order pizza or should I make us some dinner?" Cas asked when they came home. Dean wanted to tell him that he didn't need to do that, that they could just order in, but… Everything he had said in the past few days and even before that, it affected Cas. And maybe he was controlling him in some way, unintentionally. Still, telling him that he could or even worse should cook, would definitely be crossing that line and that wasn't what Dean wanted.

So, in the end, Dean just shrugged.

Cas ordered burgers.

Dean had no idea what that meant.

They ate and watched mindless TV, sitting on the opposite sides of the couch. Cas picked up the dishes and carried them to the kitchen and Dean wanted to help, but he didn't know if he should offer or would that be too much so he just… Went upstairs.

Not feeling like taking a shower or how that would even be possible with the cast on his hand, Dean sat down on the bed, took off his sweats (When did he change into those, was it at the hospital? Did Cas bring them, where did they come from?) and lay down.

It occurred to him that this was actually the next day. The evening of the next day. Dean spent the night before in the hospital, sleeping mostly after a surgery that served to take out the bullet that shattered the bones in his arm. There were stitches there, that's why it was an open cast. Fuck, he felt so tired.

A few minutes later, Cas stepped into the room, quietly, obviously looking to see if Dean fell asleep.

"Dean? Are you still awake?" Was the room really that dark that he couldn't see Dean's open eyes? Maybe it was because of the light in the hallway? Or maybe he is just trying to be kind?

"I brought you some water and your pills. You need to take your antibiotics." Dean nodded and lifted himself just enough to take the pills and the water and swallow it down.

"Good, okay… I am gonna take a shower, you need any…anything?" Dean shook his head, not looking at Cas. In fact, he barely even looked at him today.

His phone, which he had no memory of placing on the nightstand, gave one long beep as a notification came through. It was from Ellen.

Don't even think about coming to work tomorrow. You're on sick leave. Dr Murphy will be waiting for you when you return. You have to talk about this stuff, kid, or it'll eat you alive.

Great. She wanted him on psych eval with the precinct's counselor.

Maybe it could be a good thing. Maybe Dr Murphy could help him figure things out, help him be better for Cas.

It was a few minutes later that Cas came back into the room. He came close to the bed, but just as Dean turned to look at him, he moved again, going to the dresser. Then all around to his night stand and then finally back by Dean's side of the bed.

"Maybe… Um… Do you… I can… Um… Do you want me to stay with you? I can go to the, the um, the other room?" Was he going to say 'my' room? Sharp pain ripped his chest apart, but Dean swallowed it all down. He didn't want Cas to go.

"I, um. I wa… Can you stay?" Dean's voice was like gravel, his throat sore and he just realized this was the first time he spoke since yesterday. Since he called Cas stupid. Cas seemed relieved, but Dean couldn't tell for sure. He couldn't tell anything anymore.

It took him a few moments, but Cas slowly lay beside him, the few inches between them like miles. Dean had his back to him. They weren't touching. But he was there.

Eventually, Dean drifted off to sleep as the pills took over, clouding his mind and making everything pleasantly fuzzy instead of painful and miserable.