Cas took the long way back to the bunker even though daylight was dwindling, he needed to think. The cherry pie sat on the beige passenger seat next to him in its cheery white box. Hopefully, Dean would accept it as the peace offering that it was.

The conversation with Sam had been emotionally draining, and both of the men were relieved when it was over. Important, yes, but also brutally raw. Cas wasn't sure yet how he felt about Sam's story of John beating Dean so severely, but he wasn't surprised. At least it helped him understand some of the barriers Dean had erected around himself. It also explained Dean's deep need to be in control, and the trust issues kept his anxiety in check without resolution. No one can hurt you if you don't let anyone in. After years of abuse Dean always found a way to be in charge and never let someone have that power over him again.

He mindlessly tapped his fingers to the beat of the music coming through on the radio, the background noise was soothing and helped him focus- something he had learned after years of travelling in the impala. He needed a solid strategy, he wanted it to work out with himself and Dean. Even if it didn't, Sam needed things to be better. Cas felt genuinely guilty about that, he owed it to Sam to at least help Dean break the unhealthy patterns that were weighing him down.

The first and biggest change Cas thought he'd make, to get some traction, was to flip the power dynamic. They had all forgotten who he was, who had been and quite honestly Cas had been happy to leave it that way. Millions of years old, and an accomplished leader and warrior in his own right, Cas had been content in the embarrassment of his fall to put that part of his identity away. Dean needed to be the leader and was also a brilliant tactician; it was also his earth to protect. It had been easy and safe to step aside and let someone else make the calls. But now that that earth was safe and Dean wasn't, it was time to reassert a little bit of himself. Just enough for Dean to know that he was safe and didn't have to fight anymore.

The back road finally snaked around to the bunker garage entry, and Cas was relieved to see that the impala was still there. At least he's not drinking and driving. He grabbed the pie and locked everything up before heading into the bunker itself. Same slightly stale air and whirring of old mechanical systems in the background. He didn't see or hear Dean right away, and that was kind of a good thing. There were a few things he wanted to do first, to set the stage as it were.

He walked into the kitchen and left the pie on the counter for later. No Dean, but there were empties. Sam hadn't been kidding about the drinking. Next, he headed for Dean's bedroom, still hoping they wouldn't cross paths, and they didn't. The room was empty save for a few beer bottles on the bedside table. Cas got to work and grabbed the few items he was looking for, and then promptly headed to his own room.

"Ok, step one." Cas shut his bedroom door and looked in the mirror. Trench coat, white shirt, blue tie. Dean had joked that it was his heavenly tax accountant uniform, and he was pretty much right. He had always felt comfortable in it though, even proud. He was going to miss this part of his earthly identity, but it was time for something new. He took off the trench coat and hung it up in his closet. Then the shoes, shirt and tie, and pants followed. The socks stayed, they had bees on them. Claire had given them to him, he liked bees and he liked Claire, the socks were precious.

Naked except for his boxers and bee socks, Cas turned to the pile he had taken from Dean's room. If Sam was right, and Dean loved him but didn't know how to say it, Cas was going to make it easy, so easy for him. He quickly dressed himself in Dean's own clothes. Worn denim jeans, dark grey t-shirt, blue flannel, and an old pair of his boots. Without a single word Cas was going to show that he belonged to Dean already. All Dean had to do was accept what he was offering.

Still no sound nearby, Cas quickly followed up by grabbing the very few belongings he had and carried them back to Dean's room. He was moving in. Again, he was making it dead easy for Dean. Cas wanted him to know without having to ask, that he was there for the long haul. No more running, no more games. Literally everything he owned fit in one side table drawer, angels travel light.

Finally, that job complete, it was time to seriously look for Dean. He started purposefully walking the circuit. He felt a little self conscious in Dean's clothes, but not enough to change him mind. He was in it to win, Dean needed him to follow through even if he didn't know that yet.

All of the obvious places were empty, and now Cas was a little concerned. His last stop was the Dean cave, which was honestly where he had expected to find him all along. Not only was it dark and empty, but it was also dusty as though it had been empty for months. I guess that made sense, if you're busy saving the world from utter destruction and decimation there is no time to watch old movies. Closing the door and heading back out into the hall Castiel decided it was time to search a little more earnestly.

"Dean?! Where are you?" Nothing.

Time to flip that dynamic, he lowered his voice and tried again, tapping into his grace ever so slightly so his voice would project.

"Dean, you will not ignore me. Tell me where you are."

Three long seconds of silence, and then Cas heard a crash and the sound of breaking glass coming from the direction of 7B. The dungeon, of course. The place where he had both told Dean he loved him, and then left him alone to deal with it. It made sense that he would go back there if he thought Cas had left him again.

He quickened his pace, and his long strides ate up the distance easily. Pushing the door open, there were three things he noticed immediately. First, Dean's gun was sitting on the shelf by the entry. This was strange, Dean never left his gun anywhere. Second, there was an empty whiskey bottle on the floor and broken glass along one wall where clearly a tumbler and been thrown against it. Third, Dean was sitting on the floor along the opposite wall, clearly very drunk and oblivious to the angel standing in the doorway.

"I am such a fucking useless piece of shit. I fucked it up, I fuck up everything." His hands covered his face, but you could hear low sobs and see his shoulders shaking.

Cas crossed the floor in record time, knelt, and grabbed Dean by his shoulders.

"No. Stop. I will not tolerate it Dean, do not speak of yourself this way."

"Cas?" Red rimmed watery green eyes looked up in disbelief.

"Hello Dean."

Dean lost it. "Cas I'm so sorry, I fucked up, I know I fucked up. Please forgive me, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Don't leave me again, please. I can't, I just can't do this without you anymore. I need you; I love you too, I just don't know how to tell you. I'm so scared, please don't leave me again Cas, please."

Still sobbing, Dean launched himself into Cas's arms and if he hadn't been an angel the force of it probably would have thrown him off balance. As it were though, he just held him, Dean's face tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder, Cas's arms encircling him in comfort, hands resting on his back. He kept Dean pulled in close and let him cry it out. Judging by the alcohol on his breath and the empty whiskey bottle on the floor, he figured that Dean would have no memory of this in the morning. But it was a start, and he'd take it.