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Chapter 3

Dean tripped a little as he entered the old broken down house where they were going to perform the ritual to trap Raphael. He was more then a little drunk, and his vision was a bit hazy. He peered around the room for Castiel, but he didn't notice the angel, who was sitting in the shadows.

Castiel looked up as Dean entered. The other man was obviously very drunk, as someone could tell very easily by the way he staggered around and almost tripped and fell on his face. Until he did trip and fall on his face. His face made contact with the dirty, dusty floor, and Castiel leapt up.

"Dean, are you alright?' Castiel grabbed his arm and helped Dean stand. Blood was pouring out his nose; it looked like it was broken.

"I will be once you do your angel magic and heal me up," Dean slurred.

"You know, maybe I'll just leave you like that," Castiel said, letting go of Dean's arm so that he fell to the floor again.

"Why're you mad, Cass? Is it cause I said I don't love you?" Dean laid down on the wooden floor and moved his arms and legs back and forth in the grime on the floor. "Look, Cass, I'm making a snow angel!"

Castiel rubbed his forehead wearily. Why did he have to be attracted to someone that was drunk half the time, and the other half a stubborn ass?

"No, I'm mad, because after what I told you how I felt, we went to the bar, and you just... you just... you sat there with that woman right in front of me and..." Castiel broke off, too upset to continue.

"Hey, Cass, do you know that rhyme?" Dean giggled, still making his snow angel. "Dean and Cass sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes..."

"Shut up, Dean, that is not a laughing matter." How could he just make fun of Castiel's feelings that way? It wasn't right, after all he did for Dean and Sam, and they couldn't give him an ounce of respect.

"No, I shouldn't laugh, it hurts my nose. Owww." Dean pinched his nose and pulled his fingers back, covered in blood. "Look at the blood, Cass, I bet Sam'll want some.."

"Dean, I would advise you to be quiet, you're getting on my nerves. Since you're drunk, I guess I'll have to do the ritual myself later..." Castiel sat down and stared at Dean, who was still lying on the floor.

"Yeah, cause you're gonna die, right? And you didn't want to do it with a woman tonight, did you, you wanted me." Dean chuckled. "I'm so hot, even guys want me."

"You know, that is not the reason I like you. I can't say why, but...Dean?" Castiel got up and walked over to Dean, who had passed out with a grin still plastered on his face. Castiel sighed before kneeling next to Dean on the floor and touching his nose gently. The swelling and the blood instantly disappeared. He brought his hand a little higher and ran it through Dean's hair slowly, savoring the feel.

"Dean, I don't understand why you don't feel the same as I do. I thought, after all this time, you might feel the same, but you continue to go after all these women, and then there was Lisa. Every time you called me down, I was wishing it was because you wanted to tell me how you felt. But no, it was because you needed something, or because you needed me to save you. Not that I mind saving you, of course, but I would like some respect for once. Instead of demanding things of me, can't you just ask nicely?" Castiel sighed and stared at Dean's face. He ran his hand down Dean's cheek feeling the light stubble there, over his freshly healed nose, over his soft, enticing lips, before continuing his speech to the unconscious man. "I wanted to tell you how I felt tonight because I might die tomorrow, I wanted to know if you felt the same. Not that I know, I can't say that I will rest peacefully, but at least I know. I can respect how you feel though, and I just want you to do the same for me. And always remember that no matter how you feel, my feelings will never change. I will always love you."

Dean suddenly sat up and shook his head confusedly. "Where am I? I just remember being so damn drunk and.." he jumped up, noticing that Castiel was sitting beside him. "What did you do?"

"I don't understand what you mean." Castiel had pulled his hand off Dean as soon as he sensed that Dean was waking up.

"I was drunk. I didn't know you could heal being drunk." Dean looked down at the angel sitting morosely on the ground.

"Neither did I." Castiel was a bit surprised; he thought that angel powers could only heal physical injuries.

"Were you touching me?" Dean said, surreptitiously checking the buttons and zippers on his clothes to make sure they were closed.

"What?" Castiel blushed a little, and was glad the house was so dark and gloomy so that Dean could not see.

"Well, to heal someone, you have to touch them, right? But if you didn't know you take away people's drunken stupors, then why would you touch me?" Dean was watching him suspiciously, with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Because you broke you nose when you tripped and fell," Castiel said shortly, standing up. He did not want Dean to know the way he was caressing his face while he was unconscious. How dare Dean think he would anything more then that while he was out of it, anyway.

"I don't remember my nose.."

"Of course you don't, because you were drunk!" Castiel screamed at him. He took a deep breath and let it slowly out. Getting emotional was not going to help this situation.

"Cass, calm down." Dean had never seen Castiel lose it like that before. "I'm sorry."

"Can we just sit here now, and wait until morning?" Castiel headed back over to his now-familiar chair.

"Yeah, I'm actually gonna go outside and get some air," Dean left, but stood right outside the doorway of the room that Castiel was in. He reached toward the front door, opened it, and closed it again so Casteil would think he went outside. Then he resumed watching Castiel.

He saw the angel's shoulders droop and he watched as Castiel put his head in his hands. Dean knew that he was upset. He didn't know what he had said when he was drunk, but it must have bothered Cass. Castiel's shoulders shook, and Dean heard a few soft sobs escape from between his hands.

Dean slumped against the doorway. He knew he was being insensitive when he had ignored Cass at the bar like that, and even talked to that woman, but he was doing what came naturally to him. When he was upset, he went for two things: booze and women. And he didn't even know what to say to Castiel anyway, what was there left to say? He told Castiel he didn't have feelings for him, and he didn't, right? Right?

Dean thought about this as he listened to Castiel's soft sobs, sobs that tore at his heart.

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