Castiel was gazing quietly out the window into the dark junkyard when Dean came down the stairs, blearily, from their room. The bed-rumpled man was staring at the piles upon piles of junk cars as if they held the meaning of life. Coming up behind him, Dean wrapped his arms around the man, burying his nose into the mop of dark hair upon his head.
"You alright, Cas?"
Castiel sighed quietly before leaning back against Dean's chest. "I dreamt again last night. I dreamt of… of my brothers' disappointment. And what the list of possible punishments included." Dean's arms tighten around him. "I'm hurting, Dean. I truly would not trade anything that's happened, but I am hurting." He turned in his former charge's arms until they were face to face, arms wrapping around Dean's waist and his voice dropping to a whisper. "Why am I still hurting?"
Dean sighed and pulled Castiel closer to him, squishing him against his chest. "Because even though they betrayed, out casted, and tried to kill you, they're still your family. You've been with them for what? Thousands? Millions of years? You miss them. I wish you didn't, but I understand." He placed a soft kiss to Castiel's forehead and sighed quietly and took his hand, pulling him towards the stairs. "Come back to bed. See if we can get you some sleep."
A glint ignited in Castiel's eyes. A glint that Dean really did not dislike. "I have a much better idea," the former angel took the lead, pulling Dean up the stairs with him and kicking their door shut once they were inside.