It was a nice dream, with Dean saving him and holding him, but then it became a bit suffocating. Castiel found himself unable to breathe properly, and the more air he took, the more his lungs burnt. He startled awake, his nostrils filled with the smell of burnt wood and plastic. The room was enveloped in darkness, and when he tried to turn on his lamp, it wasn't working. He staggered to the wall and tried the ceiling light, and the room did turn a tad bit brighter, only enough to see the outline of the furniture. None of it mattered, because as soon as he neared the door, he could feel the intense heat on the other side.

His mind trying to work through the fog, or smoke, Castiel thought it would be best not to try and open the door, especially since the knob was so heated, he was sure it would burn him. He needed to get out of the room as soon as possible, knowing that if he stayed he would suffocate, so he managed to open his window and take a whiff of fresh air. Only once the oxygen cleared his mind, did he fully process what was happening and he started to panic.

Castiel didn't remember how he got down the fire escape, nor did he remember what his panicked thoughts were, all he would ever remember was the sight of his building on fire and how he stood on the side wearing nothing but his pyjamas and fluffy slippers, and watched the fire department trying to douse the flames that burnt down his entire life.

He would later learn that his downstairs neighbor, Ash, was probably responsible for the fire, and that he, along with a few of his friends, died that night He would be told that he was lucky to be alive, considering how close to the fire he was. Considering how badly his entire living room was destroyed. Considering there was nothing else left but him, his pyjamas and his slippers.

There was only one place Castiel could go to after the paramedics checked him for smoke inhalation, and that was Balthazar's shelter. Since the fire happened in the middle of the night, Castiel reached the shelter with the first crack of dawn, not finding anyone there but the people in the main hall. He crawled into one of the rarely empty beds and curled into himself.

"Castiel? Are you alright, my friend?" Balthazar's voice drew Castiel out of his dreamless sleep as the man shook him ever so lightly. Castiel slowly opened his puffy red eyes and Balthazar let out a small gasp at the sight. His entire expression grew from concern to a mix of full blown worry mixed with all the comfort he could muster. "What happened?"

Castiel sighed as he started to lift his heavy head off the pillow, his eyes falling closed while he tried to breathe. He sat up, running his hand over his face and frowned when he looked down at it. He didn't even realize he was covered in soot, the powdery substance leaving a black trail on whatever he touched. There had to be a deeper meaning to it, but it alluded Castiel for now. Or he just didn't care anymore.

"My apartment... My building..." He didn't even need to finish the sentence, Balthazar already knew. He had seen the remains of the structure on his way to the shelter, but he had no idea Castiel lived there.

"I am so sorry, Castiel. Tell me what can I do to help?" Balthazar offered and the things that Castiel hadn't even considered came crashing down on him. He had no clothes. He had no money. He had nothing.

He had a bank account with a few hundred bucks, but to get to it, he needed either his bank card or his ID, both of which burnt down. His breathing picked up as tried to remember his social security number, uncertain of the last three digits. If he could only remember it, he could file for a new ID and then he could get to his bank account, but to get to the money that was there, he would need the money for the small fines he had to pay for the new ID. Shit.

Castiel must have started into nothingness for too long, not giving the man an answer, because Balthazar suddenly tugged him up and was lightly shanking his shoulder, trying to get his attention.

"... you hear me, Castiel? Take these and go to my apartment, take a shower, eat something and rest. Alfie is there, he'll help you find some clothes that might fit. Go..."

It was just after noon when Castiel woke up in a strange bed. It took him a moment to figure out where he was and why and as the reality came crashing down upon him, Castiel buried his head in the soft pillow, wishing it was all just a bad dream.

He did as Balthazar told him, he walked to his apartment and Alfie let him in, showed him to the bathroom and gave him some clean, but oversized clothes, probably Balthazar's. He made him a substantial sandwich and then left him to go to school. Castiel worked on autopilot then, showering, dressing, eating and eventually finding a bed to crash down onto. Still, he knew he couldn't remain there, Balthazar barely had enough room for Alfie and himself.

He needed to come up with a plan, he needed to figure out what he should do next. He knew he needed help, and right now, there were only two people who could really help him. Dean. Or Mr. Crowley.

Castiel wasn't known for making the right decisions in his life. Or wise ones for that matter.

He got out of the bed, and smiled at the note Alfie left him. There was another big sandwich waiting for him and next to the pull out couch Alfie used, there were shoes and a hoodie. The note said to come to the shelter once he felt rested. He should have done that. But instead, he bypassed the shelter and went to Crossroads Publications Inc. instead. Ruby left him waiting for a good half an hour before she even notified Mr. Crowley.

"Castiel, darling... To what do I owe the pleasure?" Mr. Crowley said with a wide smile, but a calculating look in his eyes. "I know you haven't finished Miss Rosen's story yet, would it be much to hope that you are reconsidering allowing us to publish your novel?... Once we find it of course." Mr. Crowley added as he saw Castiel about to ask for it when he mentioned it.

"You... You haven't been able to... Was it deleted off the laptop?" Castiel asked.

"I'm afraid it was. However, Miss Cortese said she vaguely remembered putting it in storage, so I am having some of my minions comb through it. I am fairly certain it will be retrieved eventually." Mr. Crowley said and Castiel actually believed that there was a chance it would be returned to him. Maybe a little hope was good for him, maybe it was what he needed right now, and that's why he decided to turn a blind eye on the glint in Mr. Crowley's.

"If you happen to find it, I... I am willing to discuss the possibility of publishing... And if you don't... Find it, that is, I would consider, um... Writing another one." Castiel said, his eyes darting everywhere, refusing to look up to see the triumph on Mr. Crowley's face. He was in real trouble, and he needed help, he needed some cash, and bottom line? Self-preservation trumped self-respect.

But hey, it wasn't as if he was sucking dick in the back of an alley, right? Still didn't explain the foul taste in his mouth, though.

"That is excellent news..." Mr. Crowley trailed off, ogling Castiel's form, making him extremely uncomfortable all of the sudden. "Well! I will make sure my subordinates double their efforts and find that manuscript... Until then..." Mr. Crowley only slightly turned away from Castiel, as if he was trying to indicate the conversation was over.

"Mr. Crowley?"

"Yeeesss?" God, he was sleazy and he knew it.

"I was hoping..." Castiel started, signed and then thought better. The whole reason for him to agree to let Mr. Crowley publish was so that he could perhaps ask for an advance, or at least some cash, so that he could take out a new ID and get to his bank account. There was no reason to beat around the bush here. "I am currently having some problems, and I was hoping I could ask you for some... For a loan." A small frown flashed upon Mr. Crowley's face, as if he hadn't expected that, but he quickly scolded his features.

"Whatever for?"

"I just... I just need a small loan so that I could take out a new ID and access my bank account." Mr. Crowley blinked at him a few times, probably trying to understand what was going on.

"Lost our wallet, have we?" He offered, his voice not sounding as teasing as it should be.

"More like it burnt down with he rest of my apartment." Castiel said, glancing downward, but when he lifted his gaze, there seemed to be a hint of concern in Mr. Crowley's eyes. Huh. Who would have thought?

"And the laptop?" He asked, andshit, shit, shit...

"Oh, no, I completely... I'm so sorry, Mr. Crowley..." Castiel started to panic, he had completely forgotten about Mr. Crowley's property that too was lost in the fire. Strangely, Mr. Crowley just waved it off, still looking a bit stricken, but more contemplating.

"All your saved progress is... uploaded into... sky? No, clouds? Anyway, we have everything you managed to complete with Miss Rosen's story. I believe we can pay you for those nine chapters you already edited, I will... I'll tell Ruby to transfer you the money. I cannot do much beyond that." Mr. Crowley said, looking back at Castiel with wide, scared eyes. It really was an odd reaction on his behalf, almost as if he emphasized with Castiel. Not wishing to dwell on that, Castiel still needed one more thing.

"Is there a chance I could get the money in cash? The reason I need it in the first place it to gain access to my bank account."

"Oh. Right..." Mr. Crowley said, snapping out of his daze. He glanced at his Rolex and frowned. "The bank is closed now, I cannot make a withdrawal... Tommorow morning. I can have cash to you tomorrow morning. Will that be alright?"

"That's great. Thank you Mr. Crowley. Thank you. I'll come back tomorrow." Castiel said as he got up to leave. Mr. Crowley nodded absentmindedly, but as Castiel turned the knob of his office door, the man's entire demeanor changed. There was that glint in his eyes again and that half smirk on his face, but somehow, it seemed warmer and not so intimidating now.

"Glad to have helped. What are friends for? I'll be seeing you tomorrow, Castiel, darling."

Castiel walked back to the shelter, trying to figure out what else he could do. If Gabriel were around, he sure would have helped him, but he was radio silent for a while, probably on yet another one of his missions. Or party trips around the Europe. Castiel didn't like to think much about what his step-brother did for a living.

It was getting late and Castiel's stomach began to grumble. He looked down on himself and down on his bare hands and just stared at them. It finally caught up with him, the emotions he had been trying to keep buried inside, feelings of hopelessness, pain, uncertainty and fear. His home burnt down. His fucking home burnt down. It wasn't much, but it was his, it was his safe place and now it is gone along with a few things he had and cherished. The few pictures of him with mom and dad, and a few with Gabriel and his step-dad. His father's pocket knife, his mother's medallion. His old wedding ring. It was all gone.

Castiel tried to breathe through the pain and see through the tears, but had to stop and lean on the nearest wall because he couldn't go any further. It hurt so much, he felt so scared and alone, without a single idea about how he could pull through.

Life just kept throwing him curve balls. He thought he was happy with Daphne and he thought she was the one for him, but that turned out to be a lie. She knew about him, about how he was, and she accepted it, or at least Castiel though she did. But then she went and cheated on him and acted like it didn't happen. When he confronted her, she humiliated him before all of their friends, screaming about how she felt she wasn't enough for him, because she didn't have a dick he could suck.

It took him years to let someone in after her. And Zach, he really was nice. Talked the talk and walked the walk and showered him with little things, little tokens of appreciation. Until they moved in together. He turned out to be a control freak who thought Castiel should stay in the kitchen and cook his meals and clean their house and be a little pretty hole to fuck. And Castiel, he just... Took it. In retrospect, he didn't know why he did, because he desperately wanted to connect to someone and make a relationship work, or because it was easier then to admit to another failure. The first time Zachariah hit him, Castiel gathered his belongings and left.

He stopped trying to make meaningful connections after that. Gabriel was the one constant in his life and he was happy to have him, no matter how little that was. The man was, after all, a government agent who saved the world on more then one occasion, so Castiel couldn't really be so selfish to want him around more. But he did let himself be persuaded to help out at a local shelter and that's as how he met Balthazar and later Alfie. They never socialized, never talked much and never spent time together outside of the shelter. It surprised Castiel that Balthazar would just open his home to him like that, but it shouldn't have. The man was a kind soul who fought to make the world a better place. Castiel should really thank him for everything.

Thoughts of the shelter managed to make him feel a little bit better. Even if he never considered any of them as his friends, he still knew them and somehow, they grew on him. When he lost his home, the shelter was the first, and the only place he thought he could go that would welcome him. A place that was... Familiar. Maybe not safe, not like his home, but familiar.

It was only natural he felt drawn to it now. He knew it would offer food and shelter on a cold night with no questions asked. That though made him stop feeling sorry for himself and forced him to move. To try. To fight.

"Oh, thank Heavens!" Balthazar exhaled as he laid his eyes on Castiel. Meg was outside with him as they set the serving table and she frowned deeply as Balthazar's exclamation. The man ignored her and came up to Castiel, his hand reaching for his upper arm and resting there for comfort. "I went to the apartment to check on you and you weren't there."

"I apologize. I went to see my boss, I am trying to... Find options." Castiel replied with a tiniest smile. "But I am here now. How can I help?" It came out automatically, the offer catching even Castiel by surprise, but then again... If he was to dine here, he might as well offer to help. That did not stop Balthazar from gawking at him like Castiel had lost all his marbles.

"Help? What do you... No, no, there... You... You should lay down, rest. You should... Something. Do something for you not..." Balthazar didn't even know what to say. He had never encountered someone in this situation, despite being surrounded by homeless people all the time. He never had to deal with their emotional needs like he felt compelled to do for Castiel. And as much as Castiel appreciated it, right now...

"I need to... I wish to help. I need to... Would you let me help? I need to feel useful. Please." Castiel said and Balthazar just stared at him for a moment before sighing.

"Of course. Meg and I are setting everything here, you could go and help Dean." Balthazar motioned for the kitchen, and then added. "He talked me into letting him make a new meal. I hope it doesn't turn into a disaster."

The thought amused Castiel enough to make the tiniest smile creep on his face. Dean did seem to know his way around the kitchen and his stew was way better then any Balthazar or himself had ever prepared. So he nodded and Balthazar let him go. The closer he got to the kitchen, the more he could feel that amazing, mouth-watering smell, a familiar mixture he just can't put into words yet.

For a long moment, the smell of food and the hollowing emptiness of his stomach was forgotten when those brilliantly green eyes snap in his direction. They smiled, the small crinkles around them conveyed some sort of joy and it was directed at him. Those pink lips tightened as they grew wide, because Dean was smiling - smiling at him. The sight was breathtaking and so warm, Castiel lost himself in it for a moment, until Dean's happy voice reached him.

"Cas. Hey." He said and paused, just looking over Castiel with so much awe in his eyes, but quickly hid it away, probably not wishing to overwhelm the man. "Come 'ere, lemme show you what I made..." He said and turning to pull a huge oven pan with steaming tomatoes and basil over what seemed like Mac Cheese. The delicious smell filled Castiel's nostrils, his eyes dropping closed and chasing the scent for just a second before he caught himself.

"Looks really good." He said sheepishly and could see amusement floating in Dean's eyes, making him blush.

"How would you like to be my taste-tester?" Dean teased, but God! Yes! Please! Castiel was so hungry, despite having eaten two substantial subs, much more food then he would normally intake. Could be related to slight smoke inhalation he experienced last night? Castiel nodded eagerly, making Dean's smile somehow widen even more. The man snapped into action, grabbing a big spoon and a clean plate and dropping some Mac Cheese into it, while explaining that he did some research and talked to Balthazar and came up with the idea of maybe changing things up a bit. The shelter served regular Mac Cheese, but with just a few added ingredients and backing it in the oven, it made a huge difference.

The flavors exploded on Castiel's tongue, his eyes falling closed again and he hummed his delight a bit too loudly, blushing and not daring to open his eyes.

"That good, huh?" Dean's tone was light and just on the good side of teasing, so Castiel opened his eyes, looking shyly over at the smiling man and nodding. "Awesome! I got three dishes, each serving around 30 people, so that should have us covered, right?"

"We normally serve around 60 people so there should be leftovers too." Castiel commented, glad Dean decided to change the course of the conversation and divert attention away from his embarrassing reaction.

"Good. We can make casserole at the end of the week." Dean hummed, going off to take the dishes out of the other two ovens. Castiel helped him carry them out and setting it all up to be served, handing out two spoonful and nodding as people thanked them. Once the dinner was done, they all pitched in with the cleaning and the whole endeavor was over in just under two hours. As Castiel put away the last of the clean dishes, Dean reheated the Mac Cheese and served it. Everyone hummed their approval and praised Dean, making the man blush, and all helped themselves to a second serving, so Castiel didn't feel as embarrassed about eating so much.

It was nice, to be around these people and to let himself forget about his own troubles and to forget to worry about what tomorrow might bring.

"Hey, um... We're all done here, you need anything else?" Dean asked once the two of them cleaned the rest of the plates and the kitchen.

"No, we're done. That was a very good dinner, thank you, Dean." Castiel said with a small smile.

"Good. Um, you wanna lock up here? Maybe... Maybe I can walk you home?" Dean offered, rubbing the back of his neck and barely maintaining eye contact. Castiel froze. Dean was trying to be nice, he knew it, but he didn't know what happened, and Castiel... Instantly he found himself not wanting to share it with Dean and possibly have the man look at him with pity in his eyes. He didn't think he could handle that, not right now, not today. He would tell him, soon, but... He just wanted this feeling to last. This nice feeling of being around people that somewhat knew him, or at least a part of him, people that cared. Cared about others in general, so by default, cared about him too.

"I have to... I have... I... I have to meet someone." Castiel blurted out. He couldn't tell Dean he had something to finish up, because Dean would offer to help and then find out Castiel was lying, and maybe confront him about it. This was easier.

Except there was nothing easy about it, as Dean's expression turned into a surprised one with a hint of sadness in those beautiful eyes. Castiel froze again, not sure what he could possibly say to make this better, and he didn't get a chance to do it either.

"Oh." Dean said. "Well, that's... Okay. Have a nice evening, Cas." His smile was still warm and genuine and oh! so! sad, and Castiel had no idea why he felt compelled to bring back that joy in Dean's features, but he didn't get a chance. Dean waved, turned away and left.

A different kind of hollow feeling filled Castiel's chest as he laid down on one of those tent beds in the shelter, other people around him giving him a quizzical look, but not asking questions. He snuggled into a thin blanket and instead of dwelling on his current situation, Castiel ended up worrying about Dean, about that sad look in his eyes and how he wished he could make his smile as wide and as happy as it was when he entered the kitchen earlier that day.

Author's Notes:

I have no idea how the laws in USA work, and how a person who has lost their ID/driver's license/ Social Security Number card can get any of it back, but I did ask around and honestly? I don't like what I found. So I am working under the assumption that if one was to lose all of their belongings, if they knew their SSN by heart, they could take out a new ID at the Social Security Administration office (SSAO) after they pay a fine for the issuing of the same. In order to acquire access to their bank-account, a person has to have said ID or any other form of identification. I do know some banks only require the account number and the SSN to allow a person access, but this suits the flow of my story better, so I am going with it.