It was dark.

A sharp crackle of thunder sliced through the quiet, followed persistently by heavy rain. He opened his eyes as wide as they would go, but he might as well have been wearing a blindfold, the thick storm clouds keeping even the slightest trace of moonlight from entering the room. The comforter crinkled where he clutched it, pulling it up to his chin, before squeezing his eyes shut, and trying to shut out the void surrounding him.

It was so dark. It was everywhere, swallowing him.

That was when the shakes started.

Rocking himself back and forth, he fought to remember what he was supposed to do when he felt the panic start. Dizziness and nausea settled in, making him feel sluggish, and he started his deep breathing, but not too loudly- the dark was big, anything could be there- what would happen if he was heard breathing?

Just over the patter of rain drops came a distant creak, followed by a few sudden footsteps, then silence. It was coming for him. It knew where he was, and it was coming, he knew it.

Breathe. He was supposed to be focusing on his breathing. Try as he might, his 'slow deep breaths' were coming out short and ragged and much too loud for the black room.

Another peal of thunder made him almost miss it. Knocking. The sudden noise came from his bedroom door. It was coming for him. He couldn't hide in the dark.

Goosebumps erupted over his skin as the sensation of impending danger encompassed him. Scream. He needed to scream, he had to let someone know he needed help, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. His throat was too tight, vocal cords paralyzed with fear.

Maybe that was for the best- any noise he made now would only let it know exactly where he was faster, and what if it found his family, too, because they had come to save him? In a last-ditch effort to protect himself, he pulled his blanket over his head and put his back to his bedroom door just as it creaked open.

Dread shot through him like he had jumped in a lake of cold water. His chest felt tight, and his lungs burned before he realized he was holding his breath, waiting for it to find him in the dark. He grew more and more lightheaded- he was going to pass out. He didn't fight it as he heard footsteps approach his bed.

"Cas?" a voice murmured beside him. It was lighter than he was expecting- softer, and laced with concern. A gentle and reassuring hand gripped his shoulder and rolled him onto his back, tugging the blanket down from over his head.

Castiel opened his eyes to find the darkness was gone. His gaze automatically sought the bright blue eyes emanating from the face of the boy standing over him.

"Cas, it's okay," the boy whispered, sitting next to Castiel on the bed, and pulling his shaking form into a hug. Warm fingers traced up and down his back until the tremors subsided, a soothing voice murmuring hushed words of comfort in his ear. Over the boy's shoulder, he could see his room, coated in a soft light. The darkness was no longer trying to swallow him. Slowly, his breathing returned to a normal pace.

The abrupt sense of safety left him feeling dizzy, but in a completely different way than the darkness had. This time, he felt warm and relaxed, as opposed to faint. Knowing he would fall asleep if this continued much longer, Castiel eased back, but let the boy continue to hold his hands in both of his- he wasn't ready to let go, didn't want to lose the contact that made him safe again. When his breathing was back to normal, and the dizziness had faded away to awareness, he looked into the boy's face.

He was young, only ten, sandy-brown hair almost reaching his eyes.

"The power went out," the boy explained. "I just wanted to come check on you in case the storm woke you."

"Thank you," Castiel said. Had it been anyone else, he would be averting his eyes in embarrassment- a boy of his age should not be afraid of the dark- but he didn't need to do that here. He was safe here, from judgment as well as the void. "Thank you, Sammy."

Samandriel rolled his eyes at the nickname, but didn't correct him- he believed he had outgrown it, but Castiel didn't seem to agree. He was the only one still allowed to call him that.

Another boom of thunder shook the room, but Castiel paid it no mind. Samandriel looked over to the wall with the window- the wall that usually radiated a dim light, but was now as dark as everything around them. The small plug-in light near Castiel's bed helped keep his fears at bay when the sun went down, and he was reluctant to admit just how much he relied on it.

While Samandriel was still turned away, Castiel looked him over.

He had his usual soft glow about him, skin shimmering but not bright enough to hurt his eyes. As usual, he was just bright enough to chase the dark away, no doubt encouraged by his need to comfort his older brother who so feared the absence of light- and if he was the only light around, then he knew where he needed to be. Samandriel had always been like this- he thrived on being needed, being helpful.

When Castiel had first confessed, not just to him, but to anyone, his fear of the dark, how the nights were almost suffocating, he was so scared, his little brother did not laugh or mock him, but bought him the small plug-in light, disguised as an air-freshener to avoid suspicion. All these years later, nothing had changed- Samandriel was there when Castiel needed him, and not a moment too soon.

Bright blue eyes turned back towards him.

"I don't think the power is gonna be back on tonight," Samandriel told him. At that, Castiel did avert his eyes. He didn't know what he was going to do- he didn't want Samandriel to leave, casting him in darkness for the whole night, but didn't know how to ask him to stay.

"Don't worry, Cas," Samandriel smiled at him when Castiel met his eyes, as if knowing what he was thinking. He pulled the blanket up as he slid onto the bed next to Castiel, who quickly shifted to make room for him. "I'll be your night-light."


It took Castiel a few moments to fully wake up. His body felt heavy and relaxed, and his mind was still sluggish with sleep, so he indulged in his laziness and continued to lay in bed for a few minutes.

Rolling his head to the left, he caught sight of his alarm clock on the end table; it was only a quarter to seven. He was up earlier than usual, no doubt the events from the past few days throwing his sleep pattern off a bit.

As is often the case with laying awake in bed, Castiel let his mind drift around. He thought back to his dream; when he first woke up, he hadn't remembered, but now that he was thinking about it, the memory flooded back to him.

It had been a long time since he thought about that night so many years ago. Everything was so different back then; they lived in Illinois, their parents were still alive, and Samandriel didn't have to live in fear of his abilities.

Thinking about Samandriel had been a painful experience for the past eight years, even with pleasant memories like the one from his dream, but this morning, he thought back on him fondly. It was a very noticeable change, and he didn't have to think hard to figure out where it came from.

Yesterday had held so many surprises, every single one of them coming from the Luministia he had brought here just the night before last. When he first came downstairs, Castiel could see the distrust in him, the way he kept his distance. He was almost positive that telling him about Samandriel would help persuade him that he could be trusted, and sure enough, after Dean saw the picture, Castiel saw a noticeable difference in his expression. He had prepared himself for the fact that he was going to have to explain what had happened to his little brother, but it didn't make it any easier to talk about.

It had been worth it, however, when Dean started talking to him more comfortably. After breakfast, Dean had stood up and removed a pair of scissors from his waistband, smirking as he said, "Well, looks like I won't be needing these." It shouldn't have surprised Castiel that the man had armed himself in preparation to fight him off should something go wrong; the man had experienced a lot of close calls, after all.

Regardless, he knew after that that Dean, at the very least, felt comfortable enough in his home that he didn't need to be armed. Somehow, that wasn't enough, so when he gave Dean the tour of the house, Castiel was sure to let him know that he was free to do whatever he wanted. Even to himself, he knew he sounded almost desperate; he might as well have gotten on his knees and begged the Luministia to stay and make this his home, but he didn't care. If it meant Dean felt more comfortable, he would gladly forgo shame.

Despite how tired he was from the day before- with the chasing and rescuing of the Luministia- Castiel was only able to sleep for a few hours when he went upstairs for a nap. When he tossed and turned for too long, he gave up and decided to see what Dean had decided to do with his free time.

When he left his room, he heard what sounded like papers shuffling around down the hall. Curious, he followed the sound to Samandriel's old bedroom.

What he saw stilled him.

A part of him might have been expecting something like this. After all, one doesn't leave a stranger alone in their home unsupervised and expect them not to poke around their things.

It occurred to him that he should probably be angry that his privacy was being so completely violated, especially since Dean would have known about his brother and should have guessed what this room meant to him, but Castiel wasn't even upset. The only thing he felt was surprise, and even a little glad; if Dean was curious enough that he would go to such lengths to find out more about him, it had to be a good sign that he would stay a while, right? No one would make the attempt to learn more about their host if they didn't care just a little bit.

He didn't reveal his presence right away, wanting to observe the Luministia while he was unguarded. After a few moments, he spoke and let Dean know he had been caught.

Castiel wanted to laugh at the look of shock Dean had given him.

It surprised Castiel how easy it was for him to sit in that room and look through Samandriel's old things and tell his stories. Dean just seemed to bring it out of him somehow. And then, when they found the porcelain angel, what Dean had said to him... He doubted the man would ever know just how much of an impact those words had on him, when he considered himself a failure, unable to keep his own brother from harm. To hear this man- a Luministia, no less- tell him that he had been a good brother, that he had 'done right' by Samandriel, it was more than he could have asked for.

He rolled over in bed and looked across his room to his dresser, where the angel now sat in the middle.

Suddenly, it didn't hurt. Thinking about Samandriel, remembering all of the things they did together, talking about the fun they used to have, sharing those stories with Dean; it was unexpectedly easy. It even made him happy.

And to top the day off, Dean, trying to 'make things even' by offering to share some of his own personal life with him. It was so unexpected- really, Castiel wasn't expecting anything from Dean- all he wanted was to keep him safe. But now, he thought he was starting to like the Luministia's company, to actually want him around for more than just his safety.

And that was the biggest surprise out of everything.

There had been quite a bit of anticipation on his part when he first had the idea to bring Dean here; it wasn't exactly a secret that Castiel wasn't the best people person, and he feared what might happen if he and the Luministia did not get along. Fortunately, it seemed he worried for nothing.

True, it had only been one day, but he liked having Dean around, and he would go so far as to assume Dean didn't hate it here himself.

He glanced at the alarm clock again, this time finding it to read just past eight. How was it time moved so fast when he was contentedly lying in bed? Not that it mattered much; there was a lot to be done today, so he rolled out of bed and made his way to the shower.

Clean, dried, and dressed for the day, Castiel headed down the stairs and met the enticing smell of bacon. The scent lead him to the kitchen where his house guest was standing, flipping pancakes in front of the stove. Now that he was nearby, Castiel could hear him humming a tune that sounded nice, though he didn't recognize it.

A surreal feeling swept over him as he watched Dean, and he couldn't help but smile at how nice this was, waking up and coming downstairs to find a beautiful man making breakfast in his kitchen; he wouldn't object to having mornings like this more often. When he speculated that he had passed the amount of time that it was appropriate to stare at someone without their knowledge and not be considered creepy, he made his presence known.

"Good morning, Dean."

The man in question turned his head in Castiel's direction and offered him an easy smile.

"Hey, morning," he greeted. "Hope you don't mind, I kinda helped myself to your kitchen."

"It's not a problem," Castiel reassured him, moving to grab silverware to set on the table. "I already told you that you were free to anything you found in here."

With another smile, Dean turned his attention back to the pancakes while Castiel busied himself with setting the table, quietly, so that he could listen to Dean's humming.

Several minutes later, they were in the dining room, and Dean was placing three perfect pancakes onto each of their plates while Castiel poured their coffee.

"These look great, Dean," Castiel commented as he began cutting the stack. "Thank you."

"Actually," Dean said. "This is my 'thank you' to you."

Castiel looked up at him to see Dean looking almost self-conscious.

"You know," Dean shrugged. "With everything that was going on, it kind of got away from me. I don't think the weight of everything from the past few days really hit me until I woke up this morning and saw where I was. Gave me some perspective, you know? Anyway, I just thought I should thank you properly- for everything."

It was clear to Castiel that Dean didn't say things like this often- probably because he never had to- and it made it mean that much more to him.

"Well," Castiel said. "In that case, you're welcome."

"Also, I uh-" Dean hesitated. "I kind of wanted to talk to you about something. About what you asked me last night. About staying."

Castiel couldn't help his reaction, the way his eyebrows shot up, and his eyes went a little wide, his expression full of the hope that Dean had changed his mind and wanted to stay indefinitely.

"As I'm sure you've noticed," Dean continued, either ignoring Castiel's reaction or not noticing it. "I do a lot of traveling. I don't like staying in one place for too long- safer that way, I think. But I won't deny that it has its downsides. More than once, I've found myself in a bad spot, and in need of some place to lay low, get back off the radar, so to speak.

"I'm still not saying I can stay," Dean said. "But I was thinking about it, and it would be nice if, you know, I had a place I could fall back on, if shit hits the fan… wow, this sounded a lot less shitty in my head."

"Essentially," Castiel cut in. "What you're proposing is that after you eventually leave, you would still like to be able to return if things get bad and you need somewhere safe to hide. Is that about right?"

Dean stared at him for a second before nodding.

"Yeah, that's- basically it." He said. "But I'll understand if you say no."

"Why would you understand that?" Castiel asked. "It's not an unreasonable request given what I've already offered you and the precautions you need to take. I told you that this was a safe place, it makes perfect sense to want to return if you need to. I'm hoping you will. My doors will always be open to you, Dean."

He watched as the weight of his words sank in; Dean had a safe house, and could always return if he needed to. There was a slight drop in Dean's shoulders, a show of relief, and Castiel smiled at him.

"We should hurry and finish eating," Castiel said. "We still have to pick up your car, and the town is a pretty far drive from here."

The silence of the dining room was only broken by the scraping of forks and the drinking of coffee while Castiel thought back on the conversation. In all likelihood, Dean wasn't staying, but at least now Castiel knew he could still come back. Maybe he could ask Dean to keep in touch, to call him if he was in trouble, or offer to send him money when he needed it, even though he would likely turn it down. The possibility- even probability- that Dean would remain a constant in Castiel's future made him glad.

It wasn't perfect, not exactly what he had hoped for when he first made the choice to help Dean, but it was more than he had before. It was a promise. Castiel would be reliable and show Dean that he could be trusted to provide shelter when we was at his most vulnerable. It was a start.

They cleared the table, and Castiel claimed dish duty so that Dean could pick some clothes out of his closet. As he watched Dean leave the kitchen, a thought occurred to him that warmed him from the inside.

Samandriel would be proud.


The drive to the nearest town was about as long as it was beautiful.

Dean loved rural places like this; the lower the population, the lower the threat, and there were always plenty of honest jobs to work out in the country. But there in the passenger seat of Castiel's hybrid SUV, watching the scenery fly by as they wound their way down the mountain, the calm Dean felt had little to do with the lack of people or buildings.

It was unexpected, but Dean would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy Castiel's company. They had known each other less than 72 hours, but after everything they've shared, Dean felt as comfortable around him as he did with Sam. This was definitely a first for him; no one outside of his immediate family knew about what he was. Castiel was honestly and truly Dean's first friend. He trusted him, and that wasn't a word he used lightly.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt like all of it should be weird, but it wasn't. It felt… natural. In any case, everything was going much better than either of them could have hoped, and there was nothing wrong with letting things be without asking the question of 'why?'

"There aren't many tourist attractions in this area, as you might imagine," Castiel told him as they turned onto the first paved road Dean had seen so far. "Not a lot of people come up this way. That's the main reason I moved out here in the first place."

"You moved here?" Dean asked. "Where did you live before?"

Castiel raised his eyebrows slightly, eyes still on the road, and Dean smirked to himself; he liked the way Castiel always looked a bit surprised when Dean asked him certain questions, like he was taken aback that Dean was curious and wanted to know more about him.

"My family is from Illinois," Castiel answered. "I grew up there- we all did, my siblings and I."

"Why'd you leave?" Dean wondered aloud before he could stop himself. He knew he was prying again, and he told himself he wasn't going to do that anymore. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Of course not," Castiel reassured him. "The short answer is, my parents passed away and someone needed to protect Samandriel. I figured the safest place to do that would be in the mountains."

Dean was itching to ask for the long version of the answer, but knew he was stepping into personal territory, and he needed to tap the brakes before he crossed a line.

"Good instincts you got there. Place feels pretty safe."

Castiel nodded with a slight smile, as if reading Dean's thought pattern, and was grateful that he had shown restraint. Dead relatives were not the best subject for small talk.

They made it the rest of the way in a comfortable silence, with Dean taking in all the town had to offer it's locals. As expected, there wasn't much; a barber shop, a pet store, a clothing warehouse, and a few diners in between. Soon enough, they pulled into the only auto shop Dean had seen.

When he saw the mechanic wave to them from the pen garage, he had a sudden thought- this was the kind of town where everyone knew each other. Should he stay in the car and let Castiel take care of everything? He didn't want to get in the way or provoke any unneeded questions. Before he could settle on a decision, Castiel turned to him, telling him to let him know if there was a problem with his car.

Couldn't do that from out here.

The garage was pretty sizable, and had that familiar gasoline and motor grease smell to it that Dean liked so much. Though Castiel didn't seem perturbed about his presence, Dean still kept a few feet away while he inquired about his Impala, and followed behind them as they were led to the yard in the back. The mechanic pointed in his baby's direction, but it wasn't necessary- Dean could have spotted her anywhere.

While the man went back inside to retrieve the paper work, Dean looked his car over; there wasn't a scratch out of place, and he felt a wave of relief. Somehow, the sight of his car grounded him. So much had changed for him in such a short amount of time, and to have something in his life remain a constant- even something as normal as a car- was like having a piece of home.

"Oh, Baby," Dean crooned as he patted the roof fondly. "Am I glad to see you."

From somewhere behind him, he heard Castiel give a soft laugh at his affections, and the sound made Dean smile.

Shortly after, the mechanic hurried towards them with the paperwork, and after confirmation of ownership, they were cleared to get baby out of there.

"Before we do," Castiel inquired once Dean had the keys back in his hand and the mechanic had returned once again to the office. "I thought we could go to a few stores while we're down here. I don't like making trips often, and I'm running low on groceries. If you don't mind, of course."

"'Course not," Dean replied. "Wouldn't mind a bit of sight seeing."

As painful as it was to turn from his car after having just reclaimed her, Dean followed Castiel back into the garage. A 'Help Wanted' poster caught his eye in the window on the way out as they headed up the street.

The first place they stopped at was a decent sized clothing store, and Dean raised his eyebrows questionably at Castiel.

"Well," Castiel reasoned. "You are going to need something to wear regardless, we might as well get you a few things."

"Cas," Dean could feel his face heating up. "You've done enough for me, you don't have to buy me a new wardrobe, too."

"Unless you plan on living in my pajamas or taking a portion of my closet with you when you leave, then yes, I do. Wouldn't you be more comfortable in something of yours that fit?"

Dean glanced down at his attire, at the smallish shirt, and the pants that were a bit too tight, and rested an inch above shoes that were a snug fit. Damn. But Castiel had already done so much, and how much did it even cost him do get his car towed all the way here to Colorado?

"I can't ask you to-"

"You're not asking, Dean, I'm offering. I'm getting you clothes with or without your consent, though it would be a lot easier for both of us if you tried them on first."

As if deciding the matter to be settled, Castiel turned on his heel and headed towards the sign in the back that read 'Men's' and Dean, unable to argue further, followed. No one had spoken to Dean like that in years, and a few hours later, when Dean's new wardrobe was bagged at the check out, he figured it wasn't so bad letting someone else call the shots for once.


"I gotta say," Dean stated as he took a seat across from his host. "This house is pretty awesome. Small town near by to have what you need, but still far enough away from everything else. You have a good place here."

After they got back from their shopping, Dean had helped Castiel put the groceries away before heading to the guest room to do the same with his new clothes. By the time he got back downstairs, Castiel was almost done making sandwiches for lunch. It was his suggestion to eat outside- if was such a nice day out, and Dean wanted to enjoy it.

During the tour of the house, Dean had seen a bit of the backyard, but he hadn't gone out there. Like the rest of the area, it was spacious and beautiful; there was a large overgrown garden filled with multi-colored flowers and vegetables that looked like they needed to be picked soon. The patio had nice and comfortable furniture, and unlike some of the chairs inside, one of the chairs looked a little worn down. Dean guessed that Castiel spent a lot of time out here. And with the view- overlooking a distant lake with the mountains in the background- who could blame him?

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Castiel replied as he started pulling the crust from his bread. "I know it's not much, but I like it here."

Dean took another appreciative look around; he thought he liked it here, too.

"So what do you do for fun?"

The question seemed to catch Castiel off guard, and he didn't answer right away.

"I guess I… read?"

"Are you asking because you don't know?"

"No, I- I read. Mostly. Or go for runs, there are a lot of nice hiking paths nearby."

"Cool," Dean said. "I should check that out sometime."

There it was again, that small, hopeful look Castiel got whenever Dean mentioned something that implied he might be staying long-term. It almost made him feel guilty. As if sensing his discomfort, Castiel changed the subject.

"You're from Kansas, right?" Castiel asked as Dean nodded. "Did you have a house like this?"

"Naw, we lived in a suburban house in Lawrence. Wish we had a house like this, it would have made hiding out a lot easier."

Dean stopped when he saw Castiel was looking at him with a confused expression.

"Wait," Castiel asked. "You grew up in a suburb? And no one knew about you?"

"Pretty much," Dean shrugged. "Why?"

"Nothing," Castiel said after a pause. "I'm just surprised is all. Sorry, I'm going off of how I remember Samandriel as a kid, but I suppose it must be different for all Luministia."

"What do you mean?"

Castiel's gaze shifted to the table, looking to be considering his answer. Dean hesitated. As much as he wanted to know more about another Luministia's childhood, he had already scolded himself earlier for prying. But, he reasoned, if Castiel was offering the information, wouldn't it be rude to turn down his host on an offer? He decided to remain quiet and let Castiel share his story.

Finally, Castiel took a breath and explained.

"I was raised in an very religious family," he began. "Not fanatical, or overwhelming- we didn't take the bible literally or anything, but we were all very passionate about our faith. When Samandriel was born, we all rejoiced- my parents believed we were blessed with an angel to watch over us, a reward for our devotion.

"I also come from a very wealthy family. My parents had their influences and connections, and though I never knew the details of it, I believe it was because of their influence that he was not taken from us. As you can probably imagine, Samandriel became a sort of celebrity in our church. From the time that he could speak, people wanted him to pray with them. He never had to hide himself, never had to resist happiness. He was always bright."

Dean could picture it all in his head- a young Samandriel, raised in the belief that he was angelic. Heaven sent. Everyone loved and worshiped him, and he never had to live in fear. But then how…? His thoughts were interrupted as Castiel continued.

"I have four other siblings, all of them older, and we were all very close growing up. But when Samandriel was born… It was very obvious to everyone that he was the clear favorite. Our parents doted on him, compared us to him, and slowly, as often happens in large families, most of us became jealous of him. But it wasn't his fault.

"Maybe it was because I was the closest to him in age, but I spent a lot of time with Samandriel and got to know him, where the others kept their distance. I saw that he wasn't spoiled or conceited or self-centered; if anything, he didn't like so much attention, but he hated displeasing anyone, so he went along with it. He was very popular, and of course, there were dangers; occasionally, someone came to our church looking to do harm, but the power of my parents kept them at bay. That and the security guards they hired to protect him."

Castiel sighed.

"I loved my parents, but they were foolish if they thought their influence was enough to keep Samandriel safe. They died in a car accident when I had just turned eighteen, and their estate was split among us. The oldest of us, Michael, took over the company, and the others just sort of went their own way. I knew after my parents were gone that Samandriel wouldn't be safe, but when I asked the others for help, they either turned away or suggested that he learn how to be more of a contribution to the family. Michael wanted Samandriel to use his gifts to turn a profit, and when he refused, he was shunned. Eventually, I was the only willing to keep him safe, and I knew it was only a matter of time before hunters started tracking him again. That's when I found this place. Saw it online and took a road trip with Sam to check it out. He loved the lake. We bought it right away.

"Neither of us saw our family again after that. I kept records of them for a while, but they move on. I hate to think that envy could make people so cold, especially to one of their own, but when I reached out to them when Samandriel was taken, I didn't get so much as a phone call."

Castiel's gaze stayed on the table for a little while after he finished speaking, then he looked up at Dean with a small startle.

"Oh, I- I'm rambling again, I apologize."

"No," Dean said with a wave of his hand. "No, it's fine, I don't mind. I like hearing your stories."

The corners of his host's lips twitched but didn't quite make a smile.

"Thank you," he said. "I believe the point I was trying to get to was that when Samandriel was young he couldn't control his glow- everyone knew about him. Though I suppose he never had to. But you grew up in a suburb? And no one ever saw you?"

"Nope," Dean answered. "My parents were smart about it. I was home-schooled and kept inside mostly, but we did buy that cabin so I could run around and be a kid without worrying about being seen. It wasn't like it is now- when I was growing up, no one ever went by that lake, but in the past few years, more property was sold around there, so it wasn't safe. But mostly, I could control it. It took a lot of practice, but I got the hang of it after a while."

"It wasn't until we came here that Samandriel finally learned to control it. After our parents were gone, and the way our brothers and sister shunned him, he didn't glow at all for a long while. I think he always used that feeling- that memory- to suppress it."

They were quiet in the wake of their talk, and Dean didn't know how to break the silence, or even if he should. He looked down at their plates- he had finished most of his sandwich during Castiel's talk, but his host had barely touched his.

Castiel looked up at him suddenly as if having just realized something.

"Oh," he said. "Did that count as one of my questions?"

Dean couldn't help but give a small chuckle.

"Naw," he said. "We're both sharing a bit, it's okay."

"Alright," Castiel said. "Then I'd like to use one now. If it's okay."

"'Course. Shoot."

"I'd like to know more about your brother. What was he like when you were growing up? Was he… I mean, how did he take you being…?"

"Sam was always cool about it," Dean answered. "Maybe part of it had to do with me being older, I don't know, but we were always close. We used to play a game where I'd try to hold back, and he'd try to make me laugh, and if I glowed again, he won. He always won." Dean gave a small laugh at the memory, and he knew he had a dopey fond look on his face, but he didn't care. They were talking about brothers, and Dean had an awesome one.

"But no," Dean finished. "He was never, like, jealous or anything. I guess he was a bit like you were with Samandriel, he just treated me like a normal brother."

When Dean looked up, he saw Castiel was looking at him. More like staring, but before he could so much as raise his eyebrows at him, he tuned away.

"That's good," Castiel nodded. "I'm glad you had him, he sounds like a really good brother. What else can you tell me about him?"

Someone should have warned Castiel about this subject because once Dean started talking about Sammy, it was hard for him to stop. It was Castiel's turn to sit back and listen and eat his lunch while Dean ranted away about Sam growing up, how smart he was, how he got himself into Stanford- "-a full ride, no less,-" how he never forgot to keep in touch when he left.

Dean couldn't remember the last time he just talked like this. No judging, no having to explain himself for something he had done, nothing but friendly, unbiased conversation. He liked it.

"And when I left, he tracked me down to the motel I was staying in and wouldn't leave until I agreed to check in with him from time to time. All just to reassure himself that I was okay. But Sam wouldn't be Sam if he wasn't worrying all the time about something."

When Dean looked up again, he saw Castiel smiling at him, and he returned it. It was easy. All of it was. Why was he trying to leave so soon? He could stay a week or so.

They shared dish duty, and then Castiel said he had to do some work in his office. He wasn't sure exactly what he did, but Dean guessed having a house all the way out here didn't pay for itself. All he knew was that he worked from home, which he thought was pretty convenient.

Settling on watching TV for the next few hours, or for however long it took Castiel to reemerge from his work, Dean headed towards the living room when something in the window to his left caught his eye. It took him perhaps longer than it should have to realize that it wasn't coming from the outside, but from his reflection. What he thought was the sun catching something metallic in the yard was actually his eyes. He leaned closer to the window to get a better look; his eyes were bright. Just his eyes, nothing else, and he hadn't even noticed. But when…?

Oh. Well that explained Castiel's staring. Why didn't he say anything? Dean didn't know what to think of that, and chalked it up to him not wanting to ruin the mood. It almost made him laugh to think- looked like Sam won again. He made him glow without even being there.

With a smile, Dean dimmed his eyes before taking a seat on the couch and switching on Netflix.