"So, what'd you do in college?" Dean asked, since college, sequentially, came after high school.

"Well, when I first got into college, I majored in business, thinking I'd find a place in the company, but that idea fell flat half way through the first semester. I found I hated the intricacies of business, and it was slowly killing me." Castiel explained, "I eventually switched majors, much to my father's displeasure, and realized that what I really wanted to do was write." He grinned slightly before taking a sip of his drink, then continued, "I always wrote in middle school and in throughout high school, but I never took it seriously. In college, I was finally able to dive into it, submerge myself in my writing, so I majored in English literature, and minored in Journalistic writing."

"Wow." Dean mumbled, smirking, "So what was the first thing you did out of college?" he asked, not at all minding how much this situation felt like a date. He was sure that's what Castiel thought it was, and as long as Castiel was enjoying himself, so was Dean.

"I actually got a job at the local newspaper office, writing articles." He sighed, an embarrassed grin forming, "That didn't go very well, though." He told Dean in a mumble.

"Why not?" he asked, brow raised.

"I submitted articles and they kept saying they were great, but when I was able to hear some actual feed-back from readers, they said my articles were pretty boring, and I had no clue. No one was willing to point that out to me, and once again, I think it had to do with my family." He sighed, looking to Dean.

"So did you quit?" Dean asked, brows furrowed, "Did you say something to your boss about it?"

"I actually didn't say anything. I put in my three weeks notice quietly, and never went back. No one blamed me, I had a few co-workers apologize to me, but other than that, I've tried to not think about it." Castiel was going to mention that's why he moved to Seattle, to escape his family's influence, but their waitress came back, a new glass in hand.

"Here you go, you were looking a little empty." She smiled, setting a new, full glass down for him, then looked to Dean, "You want me to get you another?" she asked sweetly.

"Sure thing." Dean replied, grinning back to her.

Once she left for the bar, Dean started back up, "So what are you working on now-a-days? I know you sent for your book of poems to be published, but do you have anything else in the works?"

Castiel grinned, glad he'd remembered. For some reason he'd been expecting Dean to have forgotten already. "Now that you mention it, I've been thinking really hard about starting that novel. I'm not sure what it'll be about yet, but I have plenty of time to brain storm."

Dean grinned, "When you do get an idea, tell me. I'd love to hear about it." Dean actually surprised himself, because he's never been too interested in reading, other than the occasional Lovecraft. But he found himself excited to see what Castiel would come up with.

Their waitress returned once again, Dean's next beer in tow, "Here you go." She giggled.

"Thanks." Dean mumbled, then took a big gulp from his new bottle. But soon Dean noticed that their waitress hadn't left yet, and wouldn't until he said something further. "We're good for now." He spoke, giving her a some what tense smile.

"Alright. Yell if you need anything else." She grinned, then turned and headed to her other tables, a sort of skip to her step.

Dean shook his head slightly, "Poor girl." He mumbled.

"What?" Castiel asked, sitting up a bit straighter, curious.

Dean looked to Castiel, "She's got the hots for me." He told him in a hushed tone, a sly smirk on his lips.

Castiel laughed, "Why is that a bad thing?" he asked, but then realized how that may be perceived as a flirt and regretted it. But before Dean could see the embarrassment on his face, he answered.

He shrugged at first, "Maybe because I'm not interested." And then smirked to Castiel.

Castiel chuckled, quickly looking away, and masked the motion by taking a sip of his drink, hiding his own grin. Surely Dean wasn't flirting, he couldn't be. It was so vague, how could it be construed as such?

Before Dean could ask another question about him, Castiel spoke up, "What do you do on your free-time, Dean?" he asked, gladdened by the look of slight shock on his face.

"Uhh… you know what, I usually watch TV, or go out for drinks with the guys from the shop. I like to go camping every now and then with my youngest brother, Adam, out at the Craters of the Moon park. I don't usually have a huge amount of free-time." He shrugged again, "I guess I go a little crazy some times and go out of state for special events." He scratched at the scruff on his chin for a moment, "You really got me there, Cas. I guess I'm not as exciting as you thought I was." He admitted with a defeated sigh.

Castiel chuckled, "Well that presents a great opportunity to try new things." He suggested. "We could start by hanging out in other places rather than a bar."

"We could start? Me and you?" Dean asked, insinuating that one of those new things would be adding Castiel into his free-time, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Would your buddies from the shop walk with you in a park?" he asked, challengingly.

Dean outright laughed. "No, can't say that they would." He answered. "Hey, I'll tell you what… Why don't we meet up at my place tomorrow instead of the bar. You can bring over some of your work and let me read it. How does that sound?" he asked, already knowing Castiel would jump to the proposal.

Castiel's eyes widen, "Really? You want me to come over to your house?"

"Yea, why not." Dean answered, then took a sip of his beer. "I get off later than usual, and it'd be cool to show you around my dad's place."

Castiel gave pause, for just a moment, then dared ask, "You live with your father?" he asked, trying to hide any hint of confusion, but it was very hard. He didn't want to upset Dean.

Dean sighed, looking down at the table top, "Actually, about a couple weeks ago, my father passed away." He tells Castiel.

Castiel gasped silently, "Dean, I am so sorry." He told him, putting a hand to his shoulder, consolingly.

"No, no." Dean mumbled dismissively. "It was his time." He stared at his bottle, trying to make the words sound convincing. Maybe he could make up some lie to tell Castiel about how he died, make his dad look like less of a lunatic…

"Well, I know I haven't mentioned this either, but my father is on the verge of passing as well." He told Dean, his voice quiet and solemn.

Dean looked to Castiel, "What's wrong with him?" he asked, his voice as quiet as Castiel's.

"He's been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer." He explained. He then looked him in the eye, "We're not sure how much longer he has left. But doctors say it's a miracle if he makes it to Thanksgiving." Castiel finished, a sadness in his eyes.

"Castiel, I'm so sorry." Dean shook his head, "How is he today?" he asked, hoping he wasn't treading onto a touchy subject.

"Well, most days he sleeps, and when he's awake we try to spend as much time as we can with him before the nurses feed him and bathe him." He explained. "He hasn't woken up today, maybe later on." He nodded once.

"So does that mean you're staying close to him? Are you living in the mansion?" Dean asked, purely curious.

It was the first time Castiel heard someone refer to his home as the mansion, and it left him a little struck, "Um," he shook his head slightly, "Yes, I'm currently living at my childhood home, along with my brothers. Some of my cousins have already flown in, but there are more to come."

Dean nodded, showing his understanding. So everyone had their own place, but during a family crisis they all came together. He was a little surprised such a rich family would act like a…family. He had always assumed rich types were cold to one another.

Castiel stared into his glass, thinking about how much money played into his situation. It was the reason why people feared to be near him as a child, why he made a fool of himself in his articles, and why he needed to move all the way to Seattle, and away from his family. It wasn't really his family that people were afraid of, but the money.

Dean called his home a mansion, not just a house, but a mansion, because he was fully aware of the amount of money they had. Would the money scare Dean away too?

"Cas."

Dean shocked him out of his thoughts, and he looked back up at him.

"If you ever want to talk about it, just call me. I know what you're going through, and I want to help." He told him, his face serious.

"Thank you, Dean." He answered. He then looked back to his glass, watching as some ice cubes shifted, "I think I should be heading home. It's getting late."

Even though they'd only been at the bar for two hours, Dean wasn't going to argue. He understood what kind of place Castiel's head was in, so he'd let him go home. "Alright Cas. I'll text you my address so we can hang out tomorrow, okay?"

Castiel gave a half smile to Dean, "Okay." He then reached into his coat for his wallet.

"Hey, hey, I'm paying." He told Castiel, grabbing his hand and pulling it away from his pocket.

"What? Why?" Castiel asked, highly confused.

Dean laughed, shaking his head slightly, then pulled out his own wallet and threw a couple bills on the table, "Because I'm the one who invited you out." He told him, as if that answered all his questions.

Castiel didn't question it, though, but simply allowed him, "Okay." He mumbled. He sighed, shaking his head a bit then stood from the table. "Thank you for the company." He told Dean, "I'll see you tomorrow." then smiled to him.

"Bye Cas." Dean grinned back. He then watched as Castiel left the bar, leaving him behind. He waited a moment before pulling out his phone to send the text to Castiel.

Sam sat comfortably in the lounge chair in living room, in fact he was fairly close to drifting off, but a ring at the door prevented that. He sighed, rubbing his face then sat up and eventually stood up to get the door.

Before he answered it, he checked himself, making sure he still looked presentable. He smoothed his fingers through his hair, then opened the door. He then sighed, realizing he probably shouldn't have, "What is it, Ruby?" he asked, his voice tired.

"Is Dean home?" she asked, her head already poking in and looking around.

Sam grimaced, "No…why?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Okay, good." She mumbled, then entered the house, under Sam's arm that held the door open. He rolled his eyes, then shut the door.

"What's going on?" he asked, this time more annoyed.

Ruby turned to her boyfriend, "Are you kidding? Dean is gone, and you want to talk about why I want to see you…" she shook her head, then began taking off her coat. "I got a score today. I wanna shoot up." She mumbled to him.

Sam's eyes flew wide open. "No."

Ruby looked up to Sam, a bit surprised, "What?"

"I said no." he told her more forcefully. "You need to leave." He told her, looking away from her, pointing to the door.

Ruby glared at Sam, "You're joking…"

"I said leave!" he yelled at her, his eyes locked onto her's intensely.

"Oh my God. I can't believe you're still trying to get clean." She smiled, mockingly. "Alright Sam. I'll leave. But don't think I won't be back." She stepped back to the door, hurriedly putting her jacket back over her shoulders, vexed. Before she opened the door and left, she looked back to Sam, who wouldn't meet her eyes, "I know you'll come back to me. Eventually."

And with that, Ruby left Sam, slamming the door behind herself. Sam waited until he heard her Jeep pull away, and went into the kitchen, sitting heavily into a chair. There were so many other ways that could've gone, and one of those ways involved Ruby calling and telling Dean everything. This situation was getting worse and worse by the day, but Sam couldn't bring himself to make the first move.

Sam slowly set his head on the table, closing his eyes as he tried to fight the urge to runaway from everything.

So, Inheritance has become my most read, most followed, most favorited, and most reviewed story! It's the most popular story I've written so far, and I am so grateful to everyone who's kept up, and has given me encouragement through these frustrating times.

As a thanks, immediately after this chapter is posted, I'm also posting the beginning of the Samifer side story, named Primogeniture. And just as a reminder, this story will be focused on the more private aspects of Sam and Lucifer's relationship, and even events that happened pre- Inheritance.

Thank you all for sticking around, and I promise that there is much more to come.

(BLD)