Time passed, far more quickly than either Castiel or Dean wanted it to. It hit Castiel like a ton of bricks one Friday afternoon, when he was sitting on the floor with the man eating burgers. Dean was making his usual pornographic eating noises, and he tried not to laugh. He glanced around at the apartment - he hadn't noticed before, but it nearly looked finished.

He worried that when the job was finished, Dean wouldn't have a reason to come back anymore. Despite what he had said a few weeks back about not wanting to lose what they were building, Castiel couldn't help the anxiety that prickled at his brain, looking for anything Dean might have said that indicated this wasn't going to last.

He couldn't remember anything of the sort, but then, he couldn't remember there being any indication that this was a permanent thing, either. They had talked about almost anything and everything, and yet somehow the exact nature of their relationship and where it was headed had never come up. So where was it headed? Was this a serious thing, or was Dean just looking for something to keep him busy?

He was lost deep in his thoughts when he felt Dean shaking his shoulder lightly.

"Hm?" He startled out of his thoughts to meet worried green depths, inches from his own.

"Where did you go?" Dean asked quietly.

"What? Nowhere." He answered, confusion crossing his face. "I'm right here."

"Man, I called you three times. You might have been physically here, but your head wasn't." Dean frowned. "So where were you?"

Castiel stared at him for several beats, wondering what to say. While he did want to clear the air of their relationship status, he also didn't want to reveal his insecurities to Dean.

"I was-" He started, thinking of something on the spot. "Just wondering when we'll finish this job. It looks almost done."

"Yep, not much left to do, really." Did he imagine the disappointed look on Dean's face then? "I just have a few more shelves to install, finish off the kitchen cupboards, and it's just a few coats of lacquer and we're done."

"Oh, well that's good. So a few more days maybe?" Castiel asked, trying to hide his own disappointment as he picked at the remains of his burger.

He didn't see the look that flickered over Dean's face or the way the man tensed, as though he had guessed what was going through Castiel's mind.

"Cas-" Dean started, then stopped.

Castiel frowned slightly, then he heard the reason that Dean had broken off. Someone was jiggling the door knob outside, as though they had tried to walk in without realising it was locked. In the quiet of the apartment, it was loud, as was the sound of keys jangling.

"Oh shit. Shit. Um. Hold that thought." Dean stammered as he leapt up, holding out a hand to stay Castiel. "Um. Just stay here, don't move. And don't say anything. And... yeah."

Castiel frowned again, anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach at Dean's odd behaviour. The next second Dean was gone, and he heard the door open, followed by voices in the hallway. It sounded like Dean was trying to stop whoever it was, and not doing a particularly good job.

"What the hell you playing at, boy?" The new voice growled. "This job shoulda been done a week ago. Now let me through."

"Dad, c'mon." Dean was saying. "This is a fast job as it is, no way could I have it done any sooner. It'll be finished on the weekend."

"Not good enough. I give you a job and I expect it done when I say. Now move!"

Castiel could feel himself tensing up further at the anger in the new voice. Once he realised it was Dean's father John, slight fear curled through him. He had a feeling this wasn't about to go well, especially when the man found him in the apartment. Dean had said he wasn't supposed to have anyone there, but judging by his behaviour just now, there was more to the story.

As he heard the footsteps stomping closer he shot to his feet, standing back against the wall and wringing his hands together nervously. They were coming closer, and he would be found out any moment now.

Fast as he could, he flicked his phone into his hand and typed out a simple sos text, put Mr. Jackson, the apartment manager, as the recipient, then locked it without sending. He had learnt after the incident with Uriel to be prepared - now he would be able to just unlock the phone and send the text if anything went wrong. He hid his phone in his hand slightly behind him and prepared for the confrontation with slow, steady breaths.

"Dean what the hell?! Just let me-" Both men rounded the corner, apparently struggling with each other, and John Winchester stared straight at Castiel in a mixture of anger and shock. "What the hell is this?"

"Dad, just stop, I can explain-" Dean started, a pleading tone in his voice.

Castiel instantly didn't like the way that he moved between himself and his father, subtly shielding Castiel with his hands up in a submissive gesture. He'd had enough experience with that move, and he was almost certain that Dean expected things to get physical.

"Oh, I don't think you need to explain, boy." John's voice was dangerously quiet, an angry glint in his eye. "I think I know exactly what's going on here. I give you an order and instead of following it, you're too busy fucking around with this fairy slut. Is that it, Dean? You'd rather give in to your slutty ways instead of follow my orders? Rather have a dick up your ass than do your job?"

Half way through the rant, John reached out and grabbed the front of Dean's shirt, curling the material tight in his fist as he pulled his son right to him. By the end of the rant, he was yelling at Dean, his free hand clenched into a fist by his side. Castiel watched in horror as Dean's shoulders dropped, all the fight going out of him in a way he'd never expected. Why would Dean give up now? But John wasn't finished, despite the horrible things he'd already said.

"Thought I'd beat that out of you, boy. Do I have to do it again?" John shook him when he didn't answer. "Well?! I won't have a fairy as a son, so what will it be!"

"Dad, please... He's more than that, he's-"

Castiel flinched as he heard skin hitting skin and watched in horror as John pulled his fist back to go again. Dean cried out, lifting his arms to try to cover his face, and Castiel saw red. Fast as he could, he unlocked the phone and sent the message, then dropped it. He wasn't a fighter - never had been, and what he was about to do went against everything he was. But he couldn't stop himself from running forward, and he barrelled into the man as hard as he could. The man lost his grip and stumbled into the wall, growling out in anger.

"Cas-!"

"Run!" Castiel snapped, fear and panic lacing his voice.

He grabbed hold of Dean's hand and bolted, dragging the larger man behind him, back into his apartment. The door slammed and he locked it just in time to hear the man hammering on the door. That was the least of his concern right now, though - he turned to Dean, who was leaning against the wall with a blank, shocked expression.

"Dean?" He placed his hands on Dean's cheeks, forcing him to look at him. "Are you okay?"

"I - yeah, I'm fine..." Dean searched his panic stricken face. "Are you?"

"Me?!" Castiel choked on a sad laugh. "Dean, you just got beaten up by your own father. Compared to that, I'm perfectly fine."

"Not the first time." Dean muttered as he shrugged slightly. "You, though. How's the anxiety?"

"7, I think." Castiel answered automatically. They'd fallen into a rhythm where he would rate his anxiety on a scale of ten. "We're going to talk about that part later."

"Nothing to talk about. Now come on, let's get you away from the door."

Dean pulled on his hands until he followed, realising as they got further away from the hammering and roaring how high his heart rate was, how fast his breathing had become. Obviously the adrenaline had blinded him to his own body's responses - that was a little concerning.

Dean sat him on the couch and, without any preamble, sat behind him and pulled Cas' back against his chest, arms wrapping around his front. He frowned slightly - this was different, and he was going to ask about it, before Dean's chin rested on his shoulder and he spoke softly.

"Don't talk. Just focus on feeling my breathing and heart rate."

He nodded slightly, closing his eyes. He could feel both against his back, and slowly, it started to calm him down. He couldn't help noticing that he was dealing with it a lot better this time - he hadn't spiralled out into an uncontrollable panic attack, which was a marked improvement.

Once he had settled to almost normal, he pulled away from Dean slightly and turned around to face him. He glanced over his face, noticing with a sad frown how the skin around his eye was already swelling and darkening. He had a split lip as well, and the blood was still slowly trickling from it.

"We should get you cleaned up." He remarked quietly.

Dean just shrugged, his head dropping down slightly. "What's the point? I have to face him again sooner or later. He won't leave."

"Oh! I forgot to tell you..." Castiel bit his bottom lip slightly, wondering if Dean would be angry at what he'd done. "I sent an sos to Mr. Jackson. So.. The police will probably be here soon."

He watched silently as several emotions played out across Dean's face. There was shock, anger, and finally a sad acceptance.

"I guess it's for the best." Dean sighed, staring down at his hands. "They won't do anything, though. Lock him up and let him cool off for a bit. The cops back home used to say 'it's his right to discipline you, you're his son'... They told me to stop calling them just because I'd gotten a bit of a smack for bad behaviour. So I did."

"They what?!" Castiel recoiled, eyes wide with shock. "Dean, how old were you at the time?"

"Seventeen or so. I was a bit of a troublemaker back home so I guess the cops just assumed my bruises were from fights I got into. Most of 'em were, anyway."

Castiel pursed his lips as Dean revealed what he now realised was an abusive childhood. The biggest shock, however, was that Dean was talking about it so matter of factly. There was no emotion in his voice, and he didn't seem to feel anything about it. As though it were normal.

"Dean..." He sighed, frowning as Dean turned a confused look at him. As though he didn't understand why that upset him. "You really should-"

He was cut off as he heard a loud banging on the front door. Fear shot through him as he realised it had gone quiet several minutes ago, and he assumed that John had got a second wind until he heard a commanding voice ring out.

"Mr Novak and Winchester, it's Officer Singer. It's safe now - you can open up."

Castiel was about to stand up, when Dean shot out of the chair with a spooked look on his face. Before he could stop him, the man had bolted to the door with Castiel hot on his heels. He reached out to Dean, trying to warn him to be careful, but the man had already thrown the door open.

For all the rush, Castiel had expected something serious to go down. What he emdidn't/em expect, however, was for Dean to stand rooted to the spot in shock, staring at the aging, grizzly officer on the other side of the door who was smiling oddly and staring at Dean with - were those tears in his eyes?

Castiel was growing more confused by the second.

"Dean?" The officer asked in a quiet, yet gruff voice.

"...Bobby?" Dean gasped, not moving.

Okay, so obviously the two knew each other... somehow. There was a story there, but Castiel recognised that now was not the time and stayed back, watching the scene unfold. He glanced out the door quickly, noticing that John was cuffed on the ground, a blonde female officer with long hair and a terrifying look on her face standing with her foot on his back. He'd be lying if he said that it didn't bring a smile to his face.

Turning his attention back to the two men, he watched as they just stared at each other silently. He noticed Dean sway on his feet as his face cracked slightly, a sheen of tears showing in his eyes. The officer spread his arms in an open gesture - and with surprise he watched as Dean collapsed into the Officer's arms, breaking down.

"What-" Castiel stepped forward, startled.

"Come on now, boy. I gotcha." The Officer, Bobby apparently, muttered softly while shaking a head at Castiel over Dean's shoulder. "Harvelle, you right with him for a bit?"

It took a moment for Castiel to realise that 'Harvelle' was the young blonde Officer, who nodded at Bobby in affirmation. Bobby grunted and looked back at Castiel, nodding his head toward the apartment in a silent request for entrance. Castiel stood aside quickly, holding the door open so that the Officer could usher Dean inside, who still hadn't let go.

It was awkward, but eventually they managed to make their way to the couch. Officer Singer sat down with Dean still in his arms, pulling the man close and cradling his head on his shoulder like a child. Castiel sat in the single arm chair, watching the two with no less confusion on his face. Dean was more open than Castiel had ever seen him - usually it took force to make him talk about or show his emotions properly.

"So... you know each other, Officer?" He started timidly.

Bobby paused, glancing down at Dean. He could see the way Dean's head nodded minutely against the Officer's shoulder, giving him permission.

"Yeah. Known this boy since he was four years old." Bobby chuckled. "I'm Bobby. And you, I take it, are Castiel Novak."

"I am." He answered. "Not to be rude, Mr Singer, but Dean hasn't mentioned you...?" It was a little rude and overstepping his bounds, but he was feeling particularly protective of Dean right now.

"Yeah, I can understand that." Bobby huffed, though his face fell slightly. "That's 'cause his daddy threw me outta his life when he was fourteen."

"Wait, what?" Dean sat up, scrubbing at his cheeks while he looked at Bobby, confused. "You- Dad- But he said you left. Didn't want nothin' to do with me, 'cause of... How I was..." He shot a glance at Castiel, and his head fell. "How I am."

Bobby caught the look, a frown on his face as he mulled over the words. Then he snorted and shook his head, a grim smile coming over his face.

"Boy, I knew you was thick sometimes, but I never took you for stupid." Dean's head shot back up to stare at Bobby, who smiled. "You really think I'd give a damn about your preferences? I don't care about that, never did. An' I never left. Damn, I woulda brought you to live with me if I could. But your dad, well... When I found out what he did, I tried to knock some sense into him. Didn't work, an' he cut me off. Said if I come near the house he'd have me shot."

Dean and Castiel both simply gaped at him in shock. For his part, Castiel just couldn't process how John had been so cruel to Dean in his early years. From the conversation, he pretty much guessed John had beat Dean when he found out about his orientation.

"Yeah, your daddy lied to you, boy. I'd never have left you if I could help it. That's why I became this, so I could protect other people and hopefully find you again. I thought I had no chance after you moved, and John kept everything quiet. But then your name came up in a report from an assault a few weeks ago - when the same address came up I made sure I was here."

"Bobby..." Dean sighed, stuck between grateful and amazed. "But... how did you know what city to come to?" Dean asked, confusion marring his face.

"Sam." Bobby replied simply with a grin.

"Sam?" Dean repeated. "But... he never told me!"

"Boy, when was the last time you spoke to your brother without arguing over some stupid shit?" Bobby growled, instantly moving to disapproval.

"I- Well, it's been awhile but.. It's not all my fault, he doesn't call me either!"

"You really wonder why? Listen I get that you've been dealt a rough hand... but there's only so many times you could take it out on Sam. He's goin through shit too, you know."

"I-" Dean faltered, then his face fell. Bobby was right. "I didn't mean to. He's my brother - I'll always love him, I never meant to hurt him. Why didn't he just tell me?"

"Maybe he was worried you was too much like your Daddy." Bobby told him in a gentle voice, soothing the harshness of his words. "But don't tell me, he's the one you gotta talk to."

Dean nodded slightly, wiping at the tears that had formed and run down his face again. Bobby reached over and patted his leg, then stood and stretched out, straightening his uniform.

"I gotta get out of here. Do my job. But I'll call back in tomorrow." He started to walk away, but stopped and glanced back. "You want me to fill your brother in?"

"Please." Dean nodded. "And Bobby? Can you tell him that I'm sorry... Wait no, that I want to apologise to him. I want him to hear it from me. Please?"

"Sure can do." Bobby nodded, and smiled at him. "I'm damn proud of you, boy. Looks like you're doing well. And you-" Here he pointed at Castiel, who stared back worriedly. "You take care of this boy. He needs you."

Castiel glanced over at Dean, then back up at Bobby and smiled. "Yes sir. I will."

"It's Bobby." Bobby snorted gruffly. "Call me sir again an' I'll have you in cuffs."

"Yes... Bobby." Castiel amended with a sheepish grin.

Bobby nodded, then turned and walked himself back out of the apartment. Castiel stood and moved over to the couch then, with a moment of hesitation, he reached out and pulled Dean into his arms, comforting the larger man. Dean came easily, arms wrapping around him and holding on in a way that was out of character.

"I'm exhausted from all the emotions today. I can't even imagine how you feel." He spoke gently into Dean's shoulder, carding his fingers through his hair. "Why don't we go to bed and take a nap? We can talk later."

Dean nodded against his chest, slightly numb now that all the excitement was gone. Castiel was right - he was exhausted. He let himself be led to the bedroom and when Castiel laid down and tugged Dean into his arms, spooning his body around Dean's, he didn't argue.