Thanks for all the favorites! Makes me feel all fuzzy inside...

Reviews are so helpful, keep 'em comin'!

Car trouble.

Part II.

Dean was feeling guilty over his last encounter with Castiel. He had all but smacked himself palm to forehead when he realized what a slight his little 'personal tailor' joke must have been to a friggin' Angel of the Lord. Castiel could be sensitive about his relative power, and Dean knew that because he was the same way about his masculinity - needlessly constantly proving himself.

Dean had been thinking a lot lately about how little respect he afforded Cas some days, and he felt awful about it. The guy had done everything for him asking for nothing in return, and Dean was acting like a thankless tool. For some bizarre reason Dean's reflex reaction to realizing he had it bad for Castiel was to treat him like crap.

You're overcompensating, idiot.

He sighed, not having the energy to argue with himself today. He was too busy getting trapped in the thought of Cas' face when he'd held him close that one fleeting time; the angel's hands gripping his shoulders hard enough that the next morning Dean noticed two handprint-shaped bruises on his body. One of the bruises overlapped with the original handprint Cas had left on him, and Dean kept sneaking into the bathroom to pull up his sleeve and look at it. He was fixated on it for some reason, the look of a new brand by Castiel making his blood race and something whirr deep in his stomach every time he examined the purple-gray dusting of finger marks over the pink, raised print.

They'd never talked about that incident.

And now Dean couldn't stop thinking about Cas' expression when he'd slapped his hand away from his zipper - hurt, confused, a little indignant in that way that showed his underlying strength and knee-jerk desire to display said strength.

They hadn't talked about that either.

Dean wanted to call Cas, to pray to him so that he could see him again and smile at him in hopes that he'd smile back in that subtle, unpracticed way he did and the guilt in Dean's gut would dissipate. All wrongs forgotten. But he felt he couldn't call Cas without good reason (setting things right between them not being reason enough in Dean's mind). He knew they were past the point of having to have a life or death reason to communicate, they were friends after all. But he had to have an excuse in order to work up the nerve. And they hadn't had a case in two weeks that warranted angelic assistance.

He just kept hoping that Cas would simply appear, like he did sometimes, and Dean would have the opportunity to stop overcompensating and be extra nice to him. He wanted to. Honestly, he always wanted to be sweet to Cas. Even though he often seemed to fail at doing so, and do the opposite instead. The truth was, Dean did want to be nice.

Just like he wanted to grab him and kiss him.

He wanted to push him against a wall and nip at his pale neck and rut against him like a horny teenager until the friction of denim on dress slacks alone would make them both crazy. And then he wanted to hear the sound Cas made when Dean awakened that hungry, dirty side of him. Because Dean wanted to be the one who did just that.

He wanted to ask him to be around more.

But wanting and doing were two very different things. And for whatever reason, when it came to Castiel, Dean lost his gusto with the doing, which only made the wanting hurt that much more.

He sighed heavily, trying not to judge himself too harshly for counting the minutes until he saw the Angel again.

Sam was at a loss.

Sam Winchester was without a plan... It simply wouldn't do.

There were only so many times Sam could call Cas for no apparent reason and then also abruptly depart (also for no apparent reason) leaving the angel alone with his brother. He was staring to run thin on excuses and it was irritating him that the two wouldn't just get together. Granted, Sam would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this little adventure as matchmaker. It was all for love, right? And Sam believed in love. And love was a lot better of a thing to dwell on, to take up the hours between hunting, than thinking about Lucifer and Hell and every other nasty thing that had happened in the past.

No. Love is much better. Hell was the past. Love is the future...

Ok Sam even had to mock himself for that one. But in a way it held true. With all the pain they'd endured, they needed something light to look forward to. And if Sam had anything to say about it, Cas was going to be that light for Dean.

The ridiculousness of the almost-relationship between Dean and Cas was kind of a God send. Sam needed something like it to occupy his time and energy. Thinking about relationships and who would be good for each other, and strategizing how he was going to get them alone, was just like being a normal person. It was a civilian kind of concern, and it had been so long since he'd had the luxury of indulging in any such activity.

Despite Sam's initial surprise, he was getting pretty damn stoked about the idea of Dean and Cas getting together. Sam had always wanted Dean to find someone, and though he'd been happy with the idea of Dean living some depressingly uninteresting Leave it to Beaver life with Lisa, deep down he'd always known that she wasn't the one for Dean.

But he couldn't defend the statement, so he didn't bring it up. He'd hardly had the conviction to believe his gut on that one. So he'd let it play out, hoping for the best. But he wasn't surprised when it didn't work out. He was sad for Dean, yes, sad for the love his brother wouldn't get to have. But not at all surprised that Dean wouldn't get to have it with Lisa.

Now that he considered Dean to be in love with Castiel, Sam had a strange feeling like he was looking forward to watching his brother finally get that dream fulfilled. Of course, Dean wasn't going to make it easy. Matters of the heart were never easy for the Winchesters, but Dean had an especially stupid track record. His relationships were almost none, there were really only two. And both them as well as every fling in between had been based upon sex.

Sam was certain, it was time for Dean to aim higher.

What's higher than Heaven...?

Cas would be different - and not just because he was a guy. Sam had spent a good amount of time in the past few weeks mulling over the way that Dean and Cas stared at each other, were drawn to each other as if magnetically, and the would annoyingly forget that other people were in the room when they were close to each other. Sam had mistakenly assumed that because of all of this, all he would have to do is give them some alone time together and the sheer sexual tension and unspoken affection alone would ignite the two into a virtual firestorm of face-sucking.

Alas, it wasn't that easy.

As far as Sam could tell, the two were keeping their 'healthy', platonic-by-a-thread distance despite his finagling.

But if there was one thing Sam was, it was persistent. It ran in the Winchester genes.

No brother of his was going to live his life devoid of the joy of angel-sex with the man he loved - unacceptable.

Sam smirked to himself thinking, This is gonna be fun... Getting Dean and Cas together was the right thing to do, sure, but that didn't mean Sam couldn't have his solely recreational fun with it. Besides, after all Dean's gay jokes at the expense of his sensitivity, his considerate manner, and of course his hair, and all the times Dean had called him Princess and Samantha, it was about time that what went around came back around to Dean. Sam couldn't wait for Dean to work up the balls to try and come out to him. It was gonna be hilarious. He'd be all flustered and hyper-masculine, and Sam would act dumb for his own amusement...

Oh yeah, this definitely had to happen. Sam would see to it.

Dean was singing quietly along with the radio as Sam lay stretched out across the backseat, his arm flung over his eyes to block the too-bright morning sun. Dean glanced to the backseat and took in the sight of his overgrown little brother catching some much needed rest. As Dean's eyes were traveling back to the road, they suddenly caught the sight of a figure sitting in the passenger seat where only a split-second ago there had been no one. He almost slammed on the brakes, but realized it was Castiel and stopped himself at the last moment, succeeding in only gasping and luckily in not disturbing Sam by sending them careening off the road.

"Hello Dean."

"Damn it, Cas," Dean whispered angrily, glancing in the rear-view.

"I apologize for the lack of warning-"

"Keep it down, Sam's sleeping."

Castiel glanced briefly at the backseat before settling into his seat stiffly and sitting silently, staring out the windshield at the road ahead.

After a long moment of waiting for an explanation, Dean started, "So...?"

"May I speak?" Cas asked sarcastically, throwing Dean's demand for quiet back in his face.

Dean rolled his eyes. Cas took it as a yes. Dean's terseness bested a lot of people's patience, but Cas could match him eyeroll for eyeroll, stare for stare, curt statement for mouthy jab and temper for short temper. Cas was particularly sharp on this day because he was still bristling from the awkwardness of their last encounter, and had against his better judgement and despite his embarrassment allowed himself to arrive at the decision that he needed to see more of Dean - in a strictly business related way... Or so he lied to himself. In reality he just couldn't stay away.

"I need you to avoid involving yourself in any angelic warfare for the time being. I am having a difficult time watching you and watching my enemies in both Heaven and on Earth."

"Sam and I still on Heaven's Most Wanted list, huh?"

"The status seems quite comfortable on you."

"Yeah well, what I can I say," he gave a crooked, cocky smirk, "we're a couple of rebels."

"Rebelling against Heaven tends to get one killed or cast down into Hell."

Castiel's tone was dark, and Dean noticed, frighteningly tired. "You saying you regret it?" Dean glanced over at Castiel to see the man's brow furrowed, he was looking down at his hands with great preoccupation. "Hey," Dean started strongly, "you did the right thing for once by standing against those ass-hat brothers of yours. Don't go bitching out on me now-"

"Dean," Castiel interrupted, exhausted he leaned his head back against the seat in frustration. "I don't regret defying Zachariah. Or even Michael. They were, as you said, ass-hats. If there was anyone who deserved being stricken down..."

Dean let that sink in. There was a definite reservation in Cas' tone. "But?"

"I've become..." he looked out the window, struggling with his words, "...segregated."

Dean wondered if that was Angel-formal-speak for lonely. He immediately felt his irritation melt into empathy.

Cas continued evenly, "I fought Lucifer and Michael directly, that act makes me unusual in and of itself. I actively disobeyed what I thought at the time to be God's word. And I have escaped certain Death. I am the only one of my kind... I'm... I am still an Angel. I will never be a man in the human sense. But, there are times..."

Dean's voice was gentle and coaxing, "There are times what, Cas?"

"I don't know that Heaven is my home anymore." He turned his blue eyes to Dean and he could see Castiel's worry, his distress at the thought. It was breaking the Angel's heart to even think such a thing; it was written all over his face that he feared his feelings were yet another betrayal of Heaven. Dean knew he must be really caught between a rock and a hard place, and he got that. He wished he could make it better, easier.

When they'd saved the world, Dean and Sam didn't have a community to be cast out of in the aftermath. Other Hunters hated them, but that was nothing new, and nothing like being reviled by your own family. Cas had given just as much, and now Dean wondered if even though that war was over, he was still giving, while Sam and Dean had all but moved on.

Cas' voice came out low and shaky, "Having experienced mortality, nearly humanity... I find I cannot be how I used to be. I look at my brothers and sisters - emotionless, mechanical, certain of purpose, incapable of individuality, and sometimes I am thankful I seem to have... evolved. But there are times when I believe it would be easier... To be how I was."

Dean shivered at the memory of Cas after he'd gotten the Guantanamo treatment from Heaven and came back cold, untrusting, a soldier only. But Dean knew now, that even then, the compliance was only on the surface. Beneath he was still confused, still Cas. Dean had been there himself once, fighting to get out from his father's grip and be his own man, and he didn't envy Cas that stuggle. Even now, he was still so torn.

"Being there, being the one that is stared at..." Castiel's eyes drifted in a way that told Dean he was seeing something far away - maybe Heaven, maybe the predatory eyes of brothers and sisters who simply didn't comprehend him. Suddenly he snapped back, and his voice was strong, his eyes hard, "I don't fear any angel. I am fully capable of defending myself against any one or more of them, and they know it. They don't dare disparage me to my face."

Cas' eyes were blue fire, his voice a dangerous, commanding sound. Dean nodded, seeing that in that moment, Cas' strength was important to him. He needed it reaffirmed, and for once, Dean was able to do that for him without a joke at Cas' expense. And in a way, it was good to hear him talking big again.

It kickstarted that familiar whirring in his abdomen.

Cas' eyes softened at Dean's acceptance of his boast, it was good to know Dean still knew he was strong. He felt so doubted, so judged. He dared to admit, "I am not one to be cowed by any of my equals. But knowing what they think of me... And I do know. Because years ago, I would have felt the same way towards any Angel who had betrayed his family, his Father, gone against everything I knew for..."

Dean and Cas' eyes met for an instant before they both looked away. They both knew what was left unsaid. Dean's hands tightened on the steering wheel and his heart made its familiar flutter. An Angel who had betrayed his family, his Father, gone against everything he knew, for... for one 'righteous' man. For me. Dean took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

Cas leaned back, relaxing into his seat once more. "Perhaps I need a vacation," he muttered, smiling to himself. And the oddity of the joke was just what Dean needed to break him out of the nearly debilitating emotional clusterfuck happening inside him.

"Maybe you could stick with us for this next case," Sam piped up from the back seat.

Dean and Cas were both visibly shocked by the sound of his voice, having forgotten Sam altogether. But Sam couldn't bother to be offended, this was just the opening he needed...

"Sam, how long you been up?" Dean asked, staring straight ahead and feigning nonchalance.

"Oh just a sec," he lied, rubbing his eye for emphasis. "Heard Cas say he needs some R&R. I think you should tag along with us. Work this next case. Minor leagues for you, I know. But we can always use the help, and you wouldn't have to go back upstairs for at least a few days."

Dean's knee-jerk reaction was to scream No! and and demand Cas go back to his world and leave him the Hell alone. But that was only because being around the Angel without being able to fully acknowledge to himself that his obsession with Cas was in fact real, was going to kill him. But that instinct faded as soon as the realization came that Cas might be around longer, and, Dean's baggage be damned, that was great news. He'd wanted for awhile now to demand Cas stick around, to ask him not to leave, but he could never work up the courage. And look at his luck, Sam had done it for him. Now he'd have the chance to spend time with the Angel and finally have the peace of mind of knowing where he was as opposed to wondering constantly if he was out there in the universe getting himself killed.

Dean fought a smile. "Be nice to have an extra hand," he said quietly.

It seemed to be all the convincing Castiel needed.