There was a picture Dean had seen somewhere. It showed two frightened children crossing a rickety bridge. Behind them, unseen by the children, hovered a beautiful angel. Her hands were outstretched as she followed, guiding the children. Escorting them on their dangerous journey across the bridge.

"Castiel Novak, escort!"

Dean barely remembered the trip home. His thoughts had been in a state of chaos as he'd walked with his arm around Castiel's waist and Castiel's arm protectively over his shoulders. In truth, Cass had gotten them both back to the apartment more than Dean had. Once they'd returned, Dean had wordlessly directed Cass into a hot shower, inflated the mattress, got his own shower when Castiel was finished, ordered Chinese he couldn't afford with the last of his credit, and eaten. Through it all, he and Cass hadn't said a word to each other. Cass simply watched him, and Dean went through the motions of what he was doing in a daze.

But now that they'd both showered and eaten and the initial shock had finally worn off, Dean really felt like drinking, probably an entire liquor store's worth of booze. But even if he had a drop of adult beverage in the apartment, he was all too aware that there was not enough alcohol in existence to deal with what he'd seen tonight. Besides, alcohol couldn't wash out the fact that he'd come on to his own guardian angel with a bag full of condoms and lube in his hand, now, could it? Dean could imagine that angels saw a lot of strange shit, but he still doubted that was something that happened often.

Castiel himself was seated in his underwear on the floor in front of the TV as though nothing had happened. Of course, to the angel, this was probably just another day in the line of duty. He'd saved his charge from getting hit by a bus. Now it was time to relax. Dean pictured him sitting on a cloud with his fellow angels, the heavenly equivalent of a cool one in his hand, adjusting his halo like he did with his cowboy hat as he dished about Dean. "Yeah, my guy almost got hit by a bus today, right after he told me he wanted a relationship with me. Had condoms and lube all ready. I gotta tell ya, I'm getting hazard pay on this job!"

What had really happened tonight? He'd come on to Cass, and Cass had walked out. Then Dean had followed, tracing his trail by the people he'd stopped to help along the way. In retrospect, that made sense. Castiel was an angel, after all, and helping people was what angels did, right? But he'd finally found Castiel, talked him into coming home. And then Dean had gotten knocked out into the street, and the bus was coming…

…And his angel had saved him.

Had Cass somehow planned the whole thing? Had he known Dean would be in mortal danger tonight? He had been right there, exactly where he'd needed to be to save Dean. But if Cass hadn't run off, Dean never would have been walking along that street in the first place. And wouldn't it have been easier to simply grab Dean like a normal man and keep him from falling out into the street? Or maybe just keep that idiot from bumping him? Instead, Castiel had been forced to jump into the street after him and reveal himself to save Dean. Didn't that mean the angel had been just as surprised as Dean? Just thinking about it hurt his brain.

Dean had his phone in his hand and was staring at it, trying to decide if he should call Sam. This was the conspiracy theory to end all conspiracy theories. An angel, walking around in human form, protecting Dean from God knew what, literally. And what did that make Crowley and Morningstar? Demons? Fellow angels, out to drag Castiel back to Heaven? What the hell - no pun intended - was Cass doing out of Heaven anyway? But it did explain a lot, like how he'd happened to come along when Dean needed him most, saving him the night of the fire. Now Dean understood why Cass was so protective of him, and so gentle towards him even when he'd frightened everyone else at the hospital. It even explained why Cass could only repeat what Dean had already said. If he was assigned as Dean's guardian angel, well, that meant they were linked, right? His link with Dean could let Castiel be able to understand the meanings of the words being used, when he might not understand someone else well enough to be able to capture the words. Maybe that was why he'd reacted the way he had to the image of the angel Castiel. Maybe it was actually him? It certainly explained why Cass had so much trouble with spoken language, why he couldn't read or write, even why Dean had to teach him everything from feeding himself to taking a shit. Castiel had never had to do any of those things before!

But as an angel, Castiel shouldn't need to do any of those things. He was strong, but he should be far stronger, shouldn't he? The staff at the hospital had tied him to his bed because he'd been violent. Shouldn't he have been able to rip himself free? Where was the mighty avenging angel? At the hospital, they'd done blood tests that had come back normal. So apparently, Cass was currently in a body that could at least mimic that of a human, a body that was flesh and blood and subject to all the weaknesses of a human being. That explained his head injury. But if Castiel could still transform at will and pull himself out of the physical realm to save Dean, then why hadn't he done it when the hospital staff tied him down? Why was he shivering in the cold? It seemed obvious that Cass had no previous conception of things like hunger or cold. If he'd used this human form before, it hadn't been long enough to experience those. So what had changed? Why was the angel Castiel suddenly running around in human form for days at a time, yet able to pop out his wings and use his true form when Dean needed him the most?

He didn't know. All Dean knew was that he'd never felt so simultaneously safe and terrified in his life. Every stupid boneheaded thing he'd done in Cass's presence was coming back to haunt him as he stared at the oblivious angel. Coming on to him was only the worst. Just today, he'd let a cop think that the angel Castiel was a hired escort, basically a prostitute. And speaking of prostitution, he'd told Castiel about his relationship with Bela, his married boss. He'd even told Cass about how he'd lied on his application, and why he hadn't finished school, all but screaming the fact that he'd been living in sin with Lisa. For God's sake – no pun intended – Dean should have a demon ready to drag him into Hell, not an angel saving him from a bus!

And what the hell – pun intended this time – was Dean going to do with Cass tomorrow, while he went to work? Well, that much hadn't changed. Castiel was going to be spending more time alone behind a locked door. Not much Dean could do to change it.

Dean tried to imagine Sam's reaction when he heard this one. Telling Sam was a given. There was no way Dean could deal with this alone. If Sam called him crazy, well, that was the pot calling the kettle black. Dean imagined he'd have a lot of explaining to do. But in the end, he believed that Sam would listen and eventually believe him. Sam was his brother, after all. That was kind of in his job description.

If there was one thing that concerned Dean the most, it was how fiercely protective Cass was of him. When Cass had seen Dean struggling with Morningstar, he'd become so enraged that, on retrospect, Morningstar had just narrowly avoided a smiting of Biblical proportions. Castiel had looked so angry that he'd literally appeared ready to commit murder. So what would happen if, or more likely when, Bela called Dean to her office during his lunch break? Cass had been furious over the way she'd treated Dean, announcing that he would "handle" it. What, exactly, would a guardian angel determined to "escort" his charge do if he happened to be present while Dean was enduring more of Bela's unwelcome attentions? Follow Dean to work and confront her? Part of Dean would be delighted to see Bela turned into a pillar of salt. Or maybe struck by a bolt of lightning, vaporized instantly leaving behind only her smoldering high heels? Picturing that filled Dean's heart with a warm, childish glee. But neither of those options boded well for keeping Castiel's secret. Dean had been able to keep the angel from doing cosmic violence to Morningstar, but he'd had help from Sam, and Morningstar had wisely backed off. Somehow, Dean doubted that Bela would be likely to back off. The woman was determined to get what she wanted, and right now, what she wanted was Dean. Dean had no doubt that she'd call him to her office tomorrow during his lunch. Alright, then. He'd have to have a long talk with Castiel, convince him that he needed to stay in the apartment with the door locked. He'd done it before without complaint, but that was before he'd known that Dean was being sexually harassed at work by his horny boss. As Dean's guardian angel, in retrospect it was odd Castiel didn't already know. But no matter, he had to make sure Cass didn't follow him tomorrow to confront Bela. Now he just had to figure out how to do that.

"Sex on your couch," Castiel called.

Dean blinked, jolted out of his thoughts. "Huh?"

Cass indicated the television. "Sex on your couch," he repeated.

For the first time, Dean took note of what Cass was watching. A naked couple was going at it on the screen, moaning loudly with exaggerated expressions of pleasure while they exchanged sloppy kisses and groped each other. Dean stared for a moment. Then he rolled his eyes. "Yes, Castiel, they are having sex on the couch so people can stare at their butts." Among other things, but Dean really did not want to get into that.

"Butts," Cass parroted, still watching the screen. "Asshole?"

Dean glanced at the screen. "More ass right now than assholes, but sure, ass, butts, whatever."

Cass nodded solemnly. "Assbutts."

"Sure, Assbutt, whatever you say," Dean sighed. "Obviously, despite what Sam and Jess thought, you and I did not do that." He waved dismissively at the screen. "Keep watching, buddy, they'll probably do it on a lot of other things, too." So his guardian angel was watching a porno. Big deal. He might learn a thing or two.

Dean went back to his thoughts, his eyes on Castiel's exposed back. The bare skin was smooth and tanned, stretched over muscles that were strong without being bulky. It was an attractive back, one that showed no sign of being anything other than human. There was nothing to indicate where his wings attached. But that made sense, too. When Castiel opened his wings, he'd moved himself and Dean out of the physical realm and into some kind of weird spirit world. It was clear to Dean that doing so had caused them both to vanish, which was why he'd seen people looking for them under the bus. If Castiel simply hung out in the spirit world, no one would be able to detect his presence. We're in the spirit world, asshole, they can't see us! Dean thought, remembering the movie quote. Did you see the size of that chicken?

But even as Dean joked to himself, he was already discarding the idea. He immediately saw two problems with it. The first was the question of Crowley and Morningstar. It was clear to Dean that, whoever and whatever they really were, neither of the two had been able to detect Castiel at the hospital, while Cass was in his human form, until Morningstar had actually seen him. But Dean didn't know if they might be able to sense Cass in the spirit world. He didn't want to take the risk. Whatever had happened to Castiel, he seemed somehow vulnerable and in need of help. Dean would do what it took to protect his friend. That meant he had to be clever. And that in turn meant he needed to do research. That sounded like a job for his nerd of a brother. He made a mental note to grab Sam after work and take a trip to the library.

The second problem with Castiel hiding in the spirit world was that Dean likely wouldn't be able to detect his presence, either. He certainly hand't until the night he'd literally come crashing into Dean's life. The unpredictable angel could get bored and wander anywhere, up to and including out in the streets, or worse, to work and then into Bela's office during Dean's lunch. Dean thought back to how his car had looked, flattened to the pavement. He had no doubt that Castiel was somehow responsible for that. But if Castiel had done that because he'd fallen from a cloud, gotten into a fight, didn't like the color or simply sneezed, the sheer destructive power behind the act was sobering. Regardless of the fact that he didn't seem to have nearly that power in his physical form, he'd already proven he was capable of moving back into angel mode to protect Dean. God literally knew what else he could do then. Whatever Castiel might encounter, Dean wanted to be aware of it and have a chance to head off any problems.

Tomorrow was going to be a real challenge.

Well, first things first. It was eleven o'clock at night, too late at night to call or text Sam, so Dean sent an e-mail. He titled it "Meet Castiel" and explained that Cass represented an authority somewhat higher than the U.S. government. Then he instructed Sam to call him on his commute in. Dean could not wait for that conversation.

Meanwhile, Cass was frowning in confusion as he watched the porno. Dean decided he'd rather not discuss the birds and the bees tonight and switched off the TV. "Listen, buddy," he began as Cass blinked at the now-blank tube. "I gotta lock you in the apartment again tomorrow when I go to work. And I need you to give me your word that you'll stay here, ok?"

The look Cass gave him made Dean squirm. "Assbutt!"

"Come on, buddy, what else can I do?" Dean protested. "It's not like I can take you to work."

"Don't want to be locked in. Take me to work!" Castiel urged.

"Not a chance in hell, excuse the expression. I promise I won't keep locking you in forever, ok? It's only one more day!"

"No! Don't lock me in. Take me to work!" The blue eyes pleaded. "Please, Dean, I don't want you to leave me alone again."

Dean shook his head. "Damn, you're getting so much better at stringing sentences together. Look, just promise me you'll stay here tomorrow."

Castiel's fists clenched and he looked down, rolling his lips into his mouth. "Please let me out? Don't leave me alone again. I came back to be with you!"

"Ugh, please don't be like this, Cass," Dean groaned. "Fine, we'll talk about it tomorrow and I'll figure something out. But right now I'm fried, buddy. It's pretty late." Dean hesitated, glancing towards the mattress he'd thoughtlessly set up with all the blankets and both pillows. "Um, we need to figure out sleeping arrangements," he continued, considering his words. "After today, and what I told you, everything that happened? I get that you're not comfortable around me."

"I need you in my life," Castiel told him. He suddenly looked very upset. "Dammit! I don't want to go!"

Dean was taken aback. "Huh?"

Castiel's blue eyes were full of pain. "You'll finally be able to go back to where you belong, with people who love you and were worried about you," he said. "I know I have to give him up. Just walk out the door, Castiel, and keep going right out of my life. That's an order. I'll get the message." He shook his head violently. "I don't want to go! Escort Dean Winchester!"

"What? What?" Dean sputtered. "Did I say all that? Holy mother of fuck, is that why you left?!"

"He's going to take you home, buddy. You'll finally be able to go back to where you belong, with people who love you and were worried about you. Don't you love me?" Castiel asked. His blue eyes were full of anguish. "You don't have to stay. I doubt I would, if I was in your position. I don't understand. You tell me you love me. You tell me to go, that's an order. I don't want to go. What do you mean? Why don't you want me? Why did you order me to go?"

Dean groaned. "Dammit, Cass, you misunderstood. I never wanted you to leave. I just wanted you to be free to make your own choices. If you weren't comfortable with me, I wanted you to know that I wouldn't hold it against you if you left." He suddenly stiffened, his breath catching. "Wait. You don't want to go? Even with all I said, how I feel about you?"

Castiel looked confused. "I'm not going to judge you. I wish I understood what you're trying to say."

And then it finally clicked for Dean. "You don't understand any of that, do you?" he asked. "You're confused because you don't know anything at all about relationships for the same reason you didn't know how to eat or wash yourself. You weren't upset at what I told you because you didn't understand it. That's why you thought I was telling you to leave!" He groaned, clutching at his hair. "Dammit, you're such an idiot, Winchester! Look, Cass, I don't want you to leave. I don't ever want you to leave, ok? I couldn't be happier if you stayed in my life until it ended and we both walked into the afterlife arm in arm. But there are some crazy human emotions involved here, and right now, I'm so fried and exhausted that I have no idea how to explain them to you. I don't even know where to begin! But bottom line is, no, Cass. I don't want you to go. I'm just an idiot who keeps forgetting how fucking literal you are."

Before he could think to stop himself, Dean had thrown himself at Castiel, his arms tight around the other man. "Don't ever leave me, Cass," he pleaded. "I cannot imagine my life without you in it!" He got hold of himself, let go, and took a step back. Suddenly, he couldn't meet Castiel's eyes. "I'll make you a promise, ok?" he said. "If one of us leaves the other, it will be me, and it will be because you ask me to go. How's that?"

"Assbutt." Castiel smiled. Then he suddenly grabbed Dean and hugged him tightly. "I love you, Dean Winchester. I don't want you to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere, buddy," Dean assured, hugging him back. "But honestly, as much as I'd like to put this whole thing off until I'm rested and can think straight? There is only one bed here. So that means we're going to have to at least try to have this conversation." He squirmed free and stepped back, considering Castiel. "Ok, do you understand anything at all about what it means when you tell someone you love them?"

Castiel hugged him again. Dean laughed, patted him, and pulled free once more. "Ok, yes, that's love. But here's the thing. Love comes in a lot of different forms. Like I love Sam, but only as a brother. He's someone I like to spend time with, but not someone I want to have sex with."

Cass looked at the television. "Sex on the couch?"

"Yes, but there's different levels of sex, too. What you saw on the boob tube just now wasn't the kind of sex you have when you're in love. That was just about physical pleasure. When you're really attracted to someone, when they fill up so much of your life that it's like they're part of you…"

"You're in my blood, like you're a part of me," Cass said. "When two people fall in love, their hearts are joined. You filled up this empty gaping hole in my life. I think I could sing songs for you. I feel like you're that person that I've looked for my entire life."

Dean sucked in his breath. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Like that."

The next thing Dean knew, Castiel had pulled him close once again and was kissing him. Dean was suddenly in danger of passing out as his heart rate skyrocketed. Cass's strong arms were around him, his lips pressed against his own. He felt dizzy when Cass finally broke the kiss and let him go. "Sex on the couch," Cass announced.

Suddenly, Dean realized what had just happened. "Castiel?" he said weakly. "You cannot go around practicing the things you see on TV, alright? That is really not cool."

"Not cool." Cass sounded contrite. His shoulders hunched and his head lowered. "Sorry. Um, you ok, man?"

"Yeah, sure, fine." Dean's legs were wobbly. He managed to make it to the inflated mattress without falling over and quickly sat down. His heart was still racing the Indy 500 in his chest. Definitely time to change the subject. "Right!" he announced. "Sleeping arrangements. It is officially bedtime for Bonzo." He considered Castiel. "You're always awake every time I wake up. Do you even sleep?"

Cass shook his head no.

"The one thing about you that shows you're not human, and I missed it. Ok, that means we have several choices here," Dean continued. "Since I do sleep, I am claiming this mattress and hereby proclaiming it Deanland! Now, you are welcome to join me, or you can stay up and…"

Cass was suddenly on the mattress. He grabbed Dean and cuddled him like a six foot squirming teddy bear.

"You crazy winged jackass!" Dean protested. "Stop grabbing me! There are implications with the two of us…"

"You're such an idiot, Winchester," Cass grumbled. He planted a kiss on the back of Dean's neck, and Dean instantly went still. Then he touched Dean's forehead with his fingers. "Sleep."

And once again, Dean instantly fell asleep.