A/N: I was trying to find a way to wove this into the story itself, but even with my best efforts, I don't think it is very clear. The timeline in this story is a little off. The story happens about three years after Dean killed Azazel, but nothing that transpired after the death of Yellow Eyes happened in this universe. It is canon up to the end of season 2.

Dean didn't know why, but the image of the ripped out mailbox with their last name on it was stuck in his mind. He supposed it was a good representation of how that life turned out. Worst thing was, a part of him had always known this was going to happen. Like a fool, he had let himself get lulled into this false sense of security and he tried to go and lead a normal life. Hell, he even allowed himself to get involved with someone and admit that he wasn't as straight as his father thought he was. He hoped he would get to have this. To be an average Joe and be happy. But deep down, he knew.

And he knew he would feel guilty if Cas ever got dragged into this whole supernatural shit. But right now, guilt was not what he felt.

"What the fuck was that?!" he basically shouted, gripping the wheel tight and burning a hole through the windshield. He couldn't look at his husband. At this man who apparently he knew nothing about.

"Demons, obviously. I don't know why they–"

"I know those were fucking demons! What I don't know if how the fuck you know what they are! You… FUCK!" Dean slammed his hand over Baby's dashboard. It wasn't her fault, but he needed to do something, punch someone, and as much as he would love to take a swing at Cas right now, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Cas knew about the supernatural. He knew about demons and how to fend them off and apparently, he even knew how to kill them. "What the fuck is that thing?"

He could see with the corner of his eye that Cas lifted that blade and glanced over it for a moment, a strange expression flashing on his face for a split second before Cas turned it back to neutral. "It's an angel blade."

"An angel blade? You fucking kidding me?" The anger bubbled up. All this time he thought he was protecting Cas from his past, from that life, and it turned out that Cas didn't need it.

"Dean–"

"No, no, don't! I don't want to fucking hear it. Shit!" Dean shouted and cursed as his heart pounded harder and harder. The need to unleash his anger, vent out and he couldn't really do that while driving. And he couldn't pull over because there was a pretty good chance that the demons were following them. Dean would have to lose them. "Fuck! Fucking hell!"

Taking a sudden left turn made Cas actually yelp as he slid closer to Dean, which he would usually find very cute, but now it just confused him. The confronting feelings he was now experiencing only served to push him deeper into that irritated state.

Dean took some back alleys and narrow passageways only to turn them around back towards the house, but not directly at it. He needed to cover their tracks and make sure they weren't followed. All he needed now was for his secondary location to be compromised.

"Dean, I think–"

"I don't give a fuck what you think! You– All this fucking time you knew and you–" There was a small part of him that kept cutting off his rant, trying hard to hang on that tread and not let the rage overtake him. "Just shut the fuck up and let me drive."

Cas complied. Of course he did, he always knew to give Dean space when he needed it and not to push. He had been angry around Cas before, but those were mundane things, like a turned down bank loan or additional tax the garage had to pay. This was different. This was much more serious.

This wasn't like not telling your husband that you were never intimate with someone before; that had been easily fixed with a lot of care and soft, kind touches. It wasn't like fretting over money and possible jobs; Dean had made sure they had enough and reassured Cas that he didn't need to worry. This was so much more serious.

Silence stretched as Dean drove and it only made him more pissed off. He was recklessly swerving through the deserted streets, trying to focus on mapping out their route and not think about the man in the passenger seat. After a while, Cas spoke up again, much to Dean's annoyance.

"Where are we going?" Dean didn't want to answer. He didn't even want to be reminded of Cas and of everything that happened. So he kept his mouth shut, jaw set tight. "Dean, where are we going?"

"Dean! Tell me where the fuck are we going!" Cas shouted when Dean didn't respond to his questions. Taking a deep breath, Dean tried to calm the brewing storm that raged within him.

"Bobby. We are going to Bobby's," he replied through gritted teeth.

"Bobby? But didn't you say he lived across town? We are going in the opposite direction." Of course they were going in the opposite direction, Dean didn't want to lead the fucking demons to Bobby's place. But he didn't tell Cas that, so instead, he stayed silent.

"Can Bobby help? Does he… He knows about this, doesn't he?" Cas scoffed and Dean barely held himself from exploding. "That's why you never took me to his place, it is probably obvious a hunter lives there. Huh. He did seem like the type, but I always thought he would be more like one of those paranoid doomsday preppers."

"Bobby's not paranoid, he knows what's out there. Probably knows more about shit than you and me combined!" He didn't know why he responded to that, what happened to keeping a tight lid on it?

"Well, I doubt that–"

"How the fuck would you know? You don't know him, aside from a few times you've seen him in the garage! You don't know shit about him, so stop talking like you do!"

"Obviously, I don't know shit about him. Seems to be the theme today, huh?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean!?" Dean was almost vibrating in his seat. Overwhelmed with anger, he nearly missed the turn that would get them on the interstate that would eventually lead them back to Bobby's.

"Nothing. Never mind, forget I said anything." Cas tried to wave it off, but it was too late.

"No, I won't fucking forget it! It's really rich coming from you! Two years, Cas! Two fucking years and not once did you tell me you knew about this shit! Not once did you tell me you knew what the fuck's out there, not a single hint!"

"You didn't say anything either," Cas responded, but his voice was too quiet, too soft for the ringing in Dean's ears.

"Because I was trying to protect you! Because I–"

"I was–" Cas tried to interject, unsuccessfully.

"I was trying to leave that life behind! I was trying to–to move on, to do something with my life and not… I was trying to… Fuck! I knew this would never work! I told Sammy we couldn't go and be normal. This whole thing was one big fucking mistake! You and I - we never should have… It was all a mistake."

Dean was panting by the time he was done shouting. His eyes were focused on the road, but he could still see Cas staring at him with wide eyes and a slightly shocked expression on his face. Fuck! This was exactly why Dean didn't want to talk, why he needed to vent out before he could even approach the subject.

Cas stayed quiet through the rest of the drive, choosing to look out of the window as he curled up in the seat. Dean knew he had been a little too harsh, but there was nothing he could say now to fix it. Instead, he tried to focus on getting to Bobby's and figuring out what those demons wanted.

The junkyard was enveloped in darkness, looking more eerie than ever before. Dean had spent a lot of his time here and he knew every nook and cranny, so it wasn't hard to maneuver his way inside. A part of him still expected Rumsfeld to show up, sensing someone in his territory, but the poor mutt had been killed by Meg years ago and Bobby never got another.

Cas followed, a few paces behind, taking it all in. He wasn't wrong when he called Bobby paranoid, but considering all the things they have seen, Dean would only say that the old man had high security standards. The same standards that kept both him and Sam and Dean alive a few times.

The same standards that almost got him blown away right now.

"Whoa, whoa, Bobby! It's me! It's Dean!" He shouted the second he heard the shotgun pump.

"Dean would know better than to show up here in the middle of the night! What's the matter, kobold* stole yer phone? You ain't fooling me, you dipshit!"

"Hey, don't go all Sectumsempra on my ass, it's really me." Dean slipped in their codeword. While there was a good chance someone might pose as him and know the word to use, it was highly unlikely. At least like this, they would be given a chance to prove who they were.

"Technically, it would be Confringo, since he has a shotgun and it's a blasting spell," Cas ever so intelligently added, making Dean tell his eyes in annoyance. Why couldn't he just shut the fuck up?

Thankfully, Bobby lowered the gun, squinting his eyes at them. "It must be somethin' big if you decided to just show up here, unannounced and with yer husband in toll."

"Demons," Dean said with an exhale. Aside from chasing the old yellow-eyes and killing him before he managed to open the gates of hell, Sam and Dean hadn't had many encounters with the bastards. Still, Bobby had taught them enough as they were the reason why the old hunter was in this line of work in the first place.

"Damn," was all Bobby said. He paused, clicked his tongue, then motioned for them to come on inside.

The second Dean crossed the threshold, he got a splash of holy water in the face. He blinked the water out of his eyes and caught the moment when Bobby threw some water towards Cas.

Cas stepped aside just in time to avoid getting splashed.

Dean's heart seized in his chest. He hadn't noticed anything amiss and he had been with Cas the entire time, but what if a demon managed to possess him without Dean realizing it? Dean had thought he was being super smart, taking the long way here, but what if the reason they weren't followed was because a demon had been there, with them, the entire time?

He and Bobby shared a look.

"Apologies. It was more of a reflex," Cas said, and stood perfectly still with his chin raised a bit, waiting for Bobby to do it again.

The water touched his face and nothing happened.

"Here, catch!" Bobby suddenly shouted, and, using those good reflexes Cas mentioned, he caught a coin midair, lowering his hand and revealing it to be a silver dollar.

"Hey! Last time I had to cut myself with a silver knife," Dean protested, picking up the coin to show Bobby he wasn't a shapeshifter or the like. Bobby also made them poke themselves with a weird toothpick, probably made out of some special wood, then had them take a whiff of something with sage in it. Lastly, they both held a rusty iron nail.

After he was assured of their identities, Bobby led them into the kitchen. The living room door was wide open, showing piles and piles of lore books and unsuspecting knick-knacks Dean knew could be used as weapons of sorts. Cas seemed intrigued by everything, glancing around, but thankfully not touching anything.

Bobby motioned for them to take a seat at the kitchen table then pulled out three beers from the fridge and handed them out. The beer was bleak, watered down by holy water, but Dean took a sip anyway. He nudged Cas to do the same, then instantly frowned when it seemed as though the guy was about to protest.

Cas paused, then took a sip. He grimaced, but that was because he didn't like the stuff; otherwise, there was no reaction. Good. Maybe it was a little excessive on Bobby's part to use so much holy water, but it was what kept them alive, so Dean wasn't about to start protesting.

"Alright. Tell me what happened." Bobby gave Dean a nod to start talking.

"Don't really know. We just finished dinner and there was a ring on the doorbell. I glanced out and it was this kid, a little girl. I opened the door and then suddenly there was black smoke everywhere and then demons in meat suits charged in… I don't know how they managed to go through the St. Benedict's protections, I placed them in the foundations of the house, all four sides of it, like you told me to."

Cas let out a hum, but Dean ignored him, continuing his story.

"Anyway, we got to the guns, but aside from the charms and the holy water, there wasn't much I could use to fight them all off. Luckily, Cas had a weapon that could kill the mother fuckers." Bobby's brows skyrocketed as he turned to look at Cas, but when he didn't say anything, Dean kept talking.

"So we fought our way out. Well, Cas did the fighting, I was just a convenient distraction and a punching bag, but anyway, we managed to trick them and to get out. We were fucking lucky, Bobby. I have never seen an actual swarm and that many demons."

"Do you know what they were after?" Bobby asked, looking from Dean to Cas.

"Not a clue."

"What about you?" Bobby addressed Cas who had been strangely quiet through the whole conversation.

"They weren't after me if that's what you are asking. They must have been watching us, working through the defenses both Dean and I set up separately, but they seemed genuinely surprised at my lack of shock and of my ability to fight them off. They had no idea I would be able to kill them, otherwise they would have all come after us at once. I believe they were either after Dean or something he has." Cas' whole tone was off, cold and calculated. Dean didn't like it.

"What about this weapon of yours?" Bobby asked and both he and Dean watched with astonishment as Cas let the blade slip from his sleeve. That was a very impractical way of carrying a weapon. Cas took a deep breath, looking at the blade for a moment before he handed it over.

As Bobby inspected it, turning it around and even weighing it with a furrowed brow, Cas kept quiet, waiting until the old hunter looked up at him again. "It's an angel blade. It is made from a small piece of angelic grace, and can kill pretty much anything on Earth. On humans it has the same effect as any blade would, but even a semi-fatal blow would be deadly to any supernatural creature."

"Pfff. Yeah, right. You got a magical blade that can take down everything, how fucking nice," Dean scoffed.

"It's not magical, it is an angel–"

"Yeah, right, angel blade. You keep saying that like they're real."

"The angels are real," Cas insisted. And yeah, sure, maybe he knew some stuff Dean didn't, but that bullshit about angels, that was pure fantasy.

"Yeah. Right. If they are real, how come we never heard of them? How come they never came down here and helped?" Cas visually withdrew and just as Dean was about to gloat and say something offhanded, Cas replied quietly, with an almost sad expression.

"Because they don't care."

"What?"

"They don't care. Angels see you as nothing more than glorified monkeys, responsible for God leaving."

"Oh, God, right. He's real too, of course. This is all a bunch of bull–"

"Dean!" Bobby shouted, making Dean shut up instantly. Dean frowned, not understanding why there was a strange expression on his uncle's face as he looked Cas over. "Cas? Where did you get the blade? And how do you know about angels?"

"The blade is mine," he said and Dean's breath caught in his throat at the implication. It couldn't be, could it? "And I know about the angels because I was one."

"What the fuck?!" Dean shouted, feeling a sharp pang in his chest followed by heat rising up to his face. It wasn't possible, it couldn't be. Dean needed to see, needed to know, but Cas wasn't meeting his eyes, his look focused on a bowl of trinkets on the table. Heart beating wildly, Dean tried to work through the shock. Bobby threw him a look he couldn't decipher.

His ears were still ringing, but still overheard what was being said.

"Care to share a bit more than that?" Bobby asked, then waited for Cas to answer. Cas on his part just stared at the table, eyes unfocused, but eventually spoke, voice steady, emotionless.

"I was an angel, order of the Seraph. My name, Castiel, meant the Shield of God. I was a warrior that led a garrison into numerous battles between Heaven and Hell. I was a soldier who blindly followed orders that supposedly came from God."

"I always felt different, felt like I didn't belong. I wasn't… I started having doubts, started questioning things. Not directly, of course, that would have been a death sentence. But it was enough to isolate me from the others to the point where I couldn't stand being around them and acting the way they did. So I took to observing humans and the more I did, the more I wished I was like them."

"One day, I found a way to make that happen. I fell from Heaven. Aside from my knowledge, my memories that remained intact and my blade, I have nothing connecting me to angels anymore."

Cas' words were chipped, his voice monotone, cold and it irked Dean who was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his husband was a freaking angel. A supernatural creature. Something he hunted. Something he should kill. The startling train of thought made Dean refocus on the conversation.

Bobby asked Cas a few more questions and Cas gave some curt answers that made Bobby change tactics and ask about demons and the ones that attacked them.

"Demons are basically spirits, human souls, twisted by centuries of torment in the depths of hell. Individually, they can't do much harm to the physical plane, they have to occupy a vessel in order to interact with physical objects. However, a swarm of demonic souls is powerful enough to cause harm. That was what we saw back at the house along with demons in vessels."

"Like I said before, they were very surprised I was able to fight them off the way I did, so I don't think they were there for me. But the whole thing is extremely concerning, considering who led the attack."

"The little girl scout?" Bobby questioned and Cas finally moved, looking up at him. A disturbing image of white eyes flashed in Dean's mind, creepy and terrifying, taking his breath away just like it did when it originally happened.

"Lilith." Bobby gasped at Cas' words, though Dean had no idea why. He had no idea who Lilith was, but Bobby obviously did. The mention of her name was groundshaking enough to make Bobby leap to his feet and run into his study, leaving Dean alone with Cas.

With nothing to distract him any more, Dean's thoughts circled back to the fact that Cas was a fallen angel. That he lied to Dean about it. Dean might not have told him about being a hunter, but this was so much bigger. Cas wasn't even human.

Dean expected to explode any moment now, but that familiar bubbling rage never came. Instead, he was enveloped in this cold shock and righteous wrath that sent chills all the way down to his bones.

How much of what they had was real? What else did Cas lie about? Did he even care about Dean?

The questions burned within him adding more to this feeling of anger so intense that Dean was beyond outward rage to the point where he found himself to be extremely calm and collected. He felt hurt. Hurt and betrayed.

Worst part was that he had always assumed something would happen between them, something that would make Cas realize what a screw up Dean was. He had always felt himself beneath his husband, as if he wasn't worthy of him. He had thought that he was extremely lucky that Cas chose him.

He had never expected something like this, though.

The ache in his chest that had started off as a sharp pain and had been shimmering ever since, now deepened, making him feel hollow inside. He tried to take a few deep breaths, but they didn't seem to be enough to fill his lungs.

Cas moved, shifted just barely on the chair next to Dean. Fearing what he might do if Cas tried to talk to him now, as quickly as he could, Dean got up and left the room. The chair scraped loudly, making Cas flinch, but Dean didn't falter. He needed to get the hell out of there right the fuck now.

On his way outside, Dean caught sight of Bobby pacing through his study, talking to someone on the phone. He heard his brother's name as Bobby addressed him and he knew Sam would be on his way. The thought barely registered in his mind as he hit the back door and swung it open, then stepped out into the darkness of the night.

It should have felt less suffocating, he should be able to breathe a little easier.

He should want to smash something, tear something apart, the junkyard was perfect for that sort of thing.

But instead, Dean crawled up into an old junker, brought his knees to his chest to hug them tight and stared out into the starry night.

*A kobold (occasionally cobold) is a mythical sprite. Having spread into Europe with various spellings including "goblin" and "hobgoblin", and later taking root and stemming from Germanic mythology, the concept survived into modern times in German folklore…Most commonly, the creatures are household spirits of ambivalent nature; while they sometimes perform domestic chores, they play malicious tricks if insulted or neglected. - Source: Wikipedia.