Castiel has never had much of an interest in hockey. He had grown up around plenty of it, of course. Frequently his ice time would be scheduled before or after hockey practices. He would quietly find an isolated corner to change his skates, trying to steer clear of the boisterous young men around him. Sometimes they were nice, other times they weren't, but Castiel was always self-conscious.

They were such a tight knit group and he was always the outsider. He worried about his accent. He couldn't relate to their conversations about pop culture. Being from a foreign country he didn't share their history, plus his father rarely let him watch TV or movies, saying that they took away from his skating time. And most of all, he was afraid that they would realize he was gay.

So he kept his distance, didn't stay to watch the practices or games, and never befriended any of the hockey players. As he got older and better, his interaction with the hockey players dwindled as he was able to get more private ice time. Soon, the only time he thought about hockey players was when Anna told him about Dean or Meg about Luc. They didn't exactly give him a good impression about what to expect from the athletes.

So how he managed to find himself sitting on the bed in his room watching a full hockey game is a mystery… sort of. If Dean Winchester just happens to be starring in said game it's a complete coincidence, right?

But he knows full well that Dean is the only reason he turned on the game in the first place. His infatuation with the man was only strengthened after last night's phone call. Dean had called him and they had spent hours just talking. And now he finds himself on the edge of his seat. Who knew that hockey could be so nerve wracking? The game is exciting and fast paced and he finds himself actually cheering out loud every time Dean's team scores.

Dean himself is stunning. He moves on the ice so fluidly, fast and smooth as he weaves in between the other players all while controlling the puck. It's an amazing feat of athleticism. And whenever the camera zooms in on Dean's face Castiel practically has to hold his breath. He is covered in sweat, vibrant and alive, and the intensity in his eyes is spine-tingling.

And watching him with his brother is fascinating. They work so well on the ice together, rarely missing a pass between them. It's like they have this sixth sense of each other at all times, like they are just aware of the other's presence even if they aren't actually looking at each other. And when they show them on the bench, they are usually next to each other. It's especially heart-warming when he sees Dean say something to Sam through that beautiful smile of his and Sam rolls his eyes then turns his head and smirks a bit, probably so Dean won't see that he actually thought whatever Dean said was kind of funny. It's sweet and brotherly and the affection between them is obvious. And Castiel wishes he could hear what is Dean said that got that reaction from his little brother.

When Luc's stick connects with Sam's face Castiel gasps out loud but thankfully, Sam doesn't seem hurt. But the dark look Luc fixes on Sam gives him an uncomfortable feeling of foreboding. And when Luc jumps out of penalty box and immediately slams into Sam, Castiel jumps off his bed in panic. Sam isn't moving and there is blood spreading on the ice below him. A moment later he can't see Sam any more as a crowd of people surround him. All Castiel can think of is Dean. He must be a wreck worried about his brother.

The TV goes to commercial and Castiel wants to scream. His heart is beating fast and he hasn't moved from his spot in front of the TV. Sam looked really hurt and he is frantic worrying about the young hockey player and his older brother whom he has grown to care so much about.

When the game finally comes back on, Sam has been taken off the ice. The announcer says that his condition is unknown and the game continues just like that. Castiel vows to never watch a hockey game again. It's an emotional roller coaster and now he's riddled with anxiety over the injury of a man he has never even met. Of course he's sure that has a lot more to do with Dean but that's just a little too much to even think about right now.

Castiel wills the camera show Dean, show Dean as the play starts up again. The camera does find Dean's face for a moment. He is sitting on the bench with a faraway look on his face. His green eyes dark and narrowed and it looks like he is breathing heavily. The fury in his glare is palpable. This isn't a part of Dean that he has ever seen before. This Dean looks dangerous, fierce and feral and Castiel kind of hates himself for stir of arousal that his body feels.

Dean is sent back onto the ice and the look in his eyes is nothing less than savage but Castiel still gasps when he immediately drops his stick and gloves and grabs Luc by the jersey to start pummeling his face. Castiel's hands fly to cover his gaping mouth and he stops breathing. The fight is so fast paced, a tornado of flying fists, and there is blood on Dean's face but he keeps going. Castiel has never been a fan of violence but he finds a fury is building inside of him, and he wants to see Luc pay for what he did to Sam. He revels in every one of Dean's punches. So when a solid swing to Luc's jaw takes the man down, Castiel lets out a celebratory yell and can't believe his own enthusiasm for the brutality he just witnessed.

Dean is ejected from the game but as he leaves the ice the camera captures his face. He waves to the audience and smiles and for a second looks directly into the camera. Those gorgeous triumphant green eyes feel like they are looking right at Castiel as his grin widens, teeth red with blood that drips down his face and chin. Castiel is overwhelmed by the cacophony of emotions that he is flooded with and he sinks back onto his bed under the weight of them. He is ecstatic that Dean beat Luc, scared for Sam, worried about Dean, and more than a little turned on by his display of raw power and fury.

He wants to go to him, now. He stands up and grabs his coat but stops. What right does he have to intrude? He isn't family, has no affiliation with the US hockey team or Sam Winchester, and certainly wouldn't be allowed in the locker areas to find his friend. Besides, he doesn't even know if Dean will have to stay at the arena or if he will head straight to the hospital to see Sam. He paces back and forth in his room, feeling like a caged animal not knowing what to do with all of this anxiety and energy.

In the end he decides he has no place in this situation. Dean is becoming a friend, sure, but it would seem too presumptuous if he just showed up at the hospital. Sam and Dean are family. Castiel is an outsider who just met Dean and doesn't know Sam at all. He would just be in the way. He has no reason to believe that his presence would be welcome and he is certainly not needed. That is exactly why it is such a surprise when Dean Winchester shows up at his door a short while later looking scared and desperate.

Everything hurts. When Sam comes to he is in the back of an ambulance and people are fussing over him and speaking quickly in a language he doesn't understand. The bright lights burn his eyes and that's the least of his worries. His mouth tastes like blood and he can't move at all. A feeling of claustrophobia hits him as he realizes he is strapped down, presumably to immobilize his neck, but still a panic bubbles up in his chest.

After a moment he hears a young woman's voice distinguish itself over the others. She is speaking English and addressing him.

"Sam? Sam? Can you hear me?"

His eyes scan around for the source of the voice and, wow, he thinks maybe he died out there on the ice, because what he sees is the face of an angel hovering over his left shoulder. She is stunning! She has a sweet, round face with soft, pink cheeks and a little beauty mark between her eyes. Waves of golden hair dance around her face. And her gentle blue eyes make contact with his, as she smiles at him, warm and concerned. And Sam takes back everything he said a few days ago about not believing in love at first sight because this is the most lovely creature he has ever laid eyes on.

"Sam, do you know where you are? Do you remember what happened?"

Sam tears his eyes away from her face to scan around him, confirming the fact that he is, indeed, in an ambulance. His eyes come back to hers as he slurs out "Luc-fer," eloquently.

She looks around her, a wrinkle of worry visible on her forehead. "Um, you're headed to the hospital. There was an accident on the ice and you collided with another player. We immobilized your neck until we can make sure you don't have any spinal injuries. Are you in much pain?"

Sam manages to groan out what sounds like a yes and the beautiful woman says, "Oh, OK, we'll take care of that for you. Just get some rest."

She turns and does something that he can't see and within moments the fog of sleep is overtaking him. He realizes then that he doesn't want to go to sleep, wants to get this girl's name, keep looking at her face but there is no fighting the medications that force him back to unconsciousness. The last thing he registers is her hand, gently brushing the sweat and blood drenched bangs off his forehead and he wants to just curl up and bask in the warm feeling that the touch evokes.

Dean has never missed his Impala so much. He hates being in a foreign country without his baby. He wants to get to the hospital right now and wishes he could sink into the comfort of her soft leather seats and feel the control of steering her down the highway.

Instead he has to hail a cab and tap his foot anxiously on the seat to keep from exploding out of his skin. When the car drops him off at the entrance, he bursts through the emergency room doors and insists on seeing Sam Winchester immediately. The language barrier is infuriating as he and the woman behind the desk exchange information through painfully slow bits of comprehension.

Finally she tells him to wait while she disappears behind a set of locked double doors. When she comes back she is accompanied by a pretty young blonde woman who smiles warmly at Dean.

"Dean Winchester? Hi, I'm Jessica Moore," she says, holding her hand out. And thank freaking God she's American.

"You workin' on Sam?"

"Yes, I'm one of the team's nurses. Let's sit down."

Too nervous to sit he shuffles anxiously between his feet telling her, "No, I can't. Just tell me what's going on with him."

"OK," she acquiesces, "well we know for sure he has two broken bones in his left hand. Thankfully, the fractures are both non-displaced so Sam can expect a full recovery with proper treatment in several weeks. He also has a broken nose but that's certainly a minor break, especially in his profession. The more pressing issue, however, is the head injury, of course. It looks like he suffered from whiplash from where he was basically clotheslined so we are doing some tests to check for spinal injuries. We gave him some medication for the pain and he is sleeping now so we will know more about his condition when he wakes up. He seemed to be experiencing some confusion right after the accident so that is certainly one of our concerns right now."

"Confusion? What do you mean?"

"Well, when I asked him if he knew what happened he started talking about Lucifer so we aren't sure if he is experiencing hallucinations."

Dean can't believe that a laugh actually erupts from him, even in this awful situation. Jessica looks at him with a look of pure shock on his face.

"He knows what happened," Dean tells her. "Lucifer's the nickname of the guy who hit him, Luc Morningstar. Guy's such a bag of dicks that around the NHL he's known as Lucifer."

"Oh," she says forehead wrinkled up in an adorably cute look of concentration before her expression changes to one of comprehension and relief and she returns Dean's laugh with a smile. "Oh! Oh, that is good news. I thought he was having some religious delusions."

"So, can I see him?"

"Of course, but he's still sleeping right now. It will probably be a while since we just gave him meds. How 'bout we get you patched up while we wait. You look like you've just gone a few rounds yourself."

"I'm fine, feel great actually. Kicked Lucifer's ass after he fucked with Sam. Last I saw his ass was flat laid out on the ice."

She smiles at him and she really is beautiful. He hopes she continues to be Sam's nurse. At least give the guy a hot nurse to look at while he's laid up. "Well, I'm probably not supposed to be say this about someone getting hurt, you know, being a nurse and all, but hearing that gives me great satisfaction."

"Your secret's safe with me," he whispers conspiratorially.

"Come on," she gestures with a tilt of her head and lightly grabs his elbow. "Let me at least change that bandage on your eye. That thing's barely holding the skin closed and you don't want a scar on your face."

"Speaking of which, how's the big guy look?"

"Oh, Sam? He looks um… really good."

And if Dean isn't mistaken, she blushes and looks away from his eyes when she talks about Sam. Perfect, just perfect! Even half out of it with a busted up face his damn adorable baby brother has more of a love life than him. Freaking Florence Nightingale complex!

She leads Dean into an examination room and has him sit on the edge of the bed as she begins to work on his cuts. He winces as she pulls away the bandage he had hastily put on and she gives him a little apologetic look.

"So, how long 'till he wakes up, you think?"

"It's probably going to be a while. We gave him some strong meds which should give him a couple of hours of rest," Jess tells him as she cleans out the wound on his face and seals the skin back up.

A moment later they hear a commotion in the hallway and Dean looks over Jess' shoulder to see several reporters harassing the staff to get information about his brother. He is furious that they would come here and sensationalize his brother's injury and the last thing he can deal with right now. He's still on edge with worry about Sam, not to mention the pain that is starting to worsen now that the adrenaline of the fight is wearing off.

Jessica, bless her, looks at him and says, "Dean, they are going to hound you all evening if you stay here. Why don't you get out of here for a bit? Sam won't be awake for a couple of hours and if you give me your number I'll call you as soon as he starts to come to."

"I don't know. What about Sam?"

"Don't worry, they aren't getting anywhere near him. I'll make sure of that."

Reluctantly, Dean agrees. He's just too stressed out to stay here and deal with the press right now. Jess takes him out through the restricted area so he gets to avoid them and he soon finds himself back in the athlete's village walking towards his room. He is anxious, going out of his mind with worry about his brother. All his life it's been his responsibility to take care of Sam. Even when he has nothing to do with Sam's injuries he can't help that voice in his head (that sounds distinctly like his father) saying that he somehow failed Sam, didn't do his job. Dean has never been able to let go of that feeling and now, with Sam lying in a hospital with who knows what kind of injuries, he feels like he is losing his mind.

He needs to talk to someone, get out of his own head. And before he even realizes where he is, his feet have led him to Castiel's door. He knocks and almost instantaneously the door is swinging open and a very ruffled looking Castiel is standing right in front of him.

"Dean?"

"Cas, sorry to just barge in like this. Sam is hurt and there's reporters everywhere and I didn't know where to go and…" Dean finds his words trail off, he doesn't even know what he's doing here. How does he explain why he came to see Cas? It doesn't even make sense to him.

"Of course, come in. I saw the game. I've been so worried." Castiel stands back so Dean can come in the room and he closes the door behind him.

Dean turns around to face him, "You watched the game?"

"Yes, I… well, you came to see me skate. I figured I should do the same for you."

"Then you saw what happened?"

"Yes. Is Sam alright?"

"I don't know, man." The familiar worry floods Dean's mind and he begins pacing, talking fast and animated and he can't seem to stop the words. "I just came from the hospital. I mean there's a couple of busted bones but we've been breaking bones for years. They're more worried about the hit to the head. Jesus, another person with a fucking head injury! I'm gonna kill Luc! Fuck! It's my job to protect him and he was just laying there on the ice bleeding and he's still not awake and-"

Castiel stops Dean's tirade by stepping in front of him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Dean," he says calmly and catches Dean's eyes with his own, "he'll be OK. Just… sit. Let me get you something to drink."

Dean sits on the edge of the bed and Castiel goes over to the mini-fridge and pulls out a bottle of water, handing it to Dean who frowns at the offer. "No offense, Cas, but I think I need something a little stronger than water."

Castiel looks away sheepishly, "I'm sorry, Dean, that's all I-" his expression changes as his mouth drops open then into a mischievous grin, which does something kind of ridiculous to Dean's insides. "I just remembered, someone sent me a congratulatory gift. I think there was some vodka. Would that be satisfactory?"

"Satisfactory? Hell yeah! What' cha got?"

Castiel turns and rummages through a fancy looking gift bag that sits on the dresser and pulls out a large clear bottle with flourish. The bottle has a red label that says something Dean can't read in Russian but he's willing to take Cas' word for it as he reaches his hand towards the bottle. A niggling little voice in the back of his head tells him that is may not be a great idea to down a bottle of Russian vodka with the guy he secretly has a crush on, but Dean's never been one to let a little thing like common sense stop him and he twists off the cap, brings the cool bottle to his lips and swallows down a large gulp of the fiery liquid.

The contrast of soothing and burning on his tongue is the perfect distraction to his worry and he lets himself disappear into that feeling as the slight tingle of warmth starts to settle in his gut. His body's reaction is almost instantaneous. He can already feel himself relaxing into the buzz beneath his skin and the welcomed fuzziness in his mind.

He smiles at Cas and offers him the bottle, watching as those full pink lips caress the glass and his adam's apple bobs when he swallows. It's like watching porn and he really wants to know the taste of vodka on Cas' tongue.

"Ugh, that's awful," Castiel complains and his voice is even huskier than usual. Cas scrunches up his face at the strong liquid and shivers and Dean finds the reaction nearly irresistible but knows he isn't quite that drunk yet.

Dean laughs and reaches his hand towards the skater, motioning for him to give the bottle back so Dean can have another drink. This time he allows himself more, several swallows of the powerful drink. "You a lightweight, Cas?"

"I just don't often drink hard liquor straight from the bottle. It's… very strong. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Hell no, it's not a good idea! But who fuckin' cares? I need to be shitfaced." Dean takes another sip then reaches up to grab Castiel's wrist and pulls him onto the bed next to him before shoving the bottle back into the skater's hand. "And I really want to see if a little alcohol will loosen that stick up your ass."

"I don't have a-"

"Just shut up and drink," Dean interrupts and gives Castiel one of his most charming smiles to take the edge off the order.

Castiel harrumphs but there is no real anger behind the sound as he takes the bottle from Dean and takes another sip, this time controlling his reaction better and Dean can't help the little chuckle at how endearing Cas is.

An hour later and there is barely a finger of vodka left in the bottle. Dean is sitting with his ankles crossed and feet up on the bed with his back against the headboard. Cas is laying on his side next to him, his head propped up in his cupped hand resting on his elbow. Dean takes a final sip and puts the bottle on the night stand.

"But," Dean slurs, "what'cha gotta understand is… 's my responsibility. Look out for Sammy. Always take care of Sammy. 's what I was there for."

"You're only human, Dean. There is no way you could have prevented what happened." Castiel is looking up at Dean with half lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. Dean can tell the guy is really drunk. But he likes Cas' kind of drunk. He isn't hyper or stupid or belligerent, he has this quiet calming demeanor and its exactly what Dean's flayed nerves needed.

"Should have known fuckin' Lucifer would do some shit like that. I even saw how he looked at Sam. Should have kept a better eye on him. Sam's always been my responsibility."

"While I admire how you take care of Sam, I'm sure he doesn't blame you." Dean watches as Cas' eyelids lazily blink and every time open a little slower. He looks like he is about to pass out. Dean feels pretty close himself.

"My dad would. I bet he'd say I let him down."

"It's OK. I let my dad down, too. He hasn't talked to me since I came out."

"Huh?" Castiel's sleepy confession surprises Dean. Cas doesn't talk about his family much and this may be a glimpse into why. Dean looks down and Castiel's head is now resting on the pillow and his eyes are closed.

"Left me in America, said I belonged with the sinners there," Castiel whispers and Dean's hand reaches out against his own will and strokes Cas' head.

"Shit, man, sorry. For what it's worth, his loss."

"I had hoped he would come and see me skate yesterday but he didn't," Castiel sighs. "At least you were there."

"Yeah, I was there," Dean breathes as his thumb continues to rub gently back and forth on Cas' temple. He feels Castiel's breathing slowing down and can tell he's almost asleep.

"You're a beautiful soul, Dean Winchester," the words are slurred and come out as half-asleep ramblings.

After several minutes of silence, Dean whispers, "Cas?"

"Mmm?"

"How come you haven't kissed me?"

"Anna," Cas mumbles and its barely audible but Dean gets the message. There's someone else in Cas' life and it's just another disappointment for Dean to deal with. He sits in silence in Cas' room with his fingers tangled in the man's soft hair until his eyes won't stay open any longer.

Dean wakes to an armful of warm body and his cheek being caressed by silky hair that smells of spice. It feels so good that he doesn't want to move… ever. He is sharing body heat from his chest to his toes and his hand is draped around the other body and tucked under a shirt so that his fingers connect with smooth skin.

Slowly, he opens his eyes and the blanket of comfort lifts as a hangover lets itself be known. He looks at the body in his arms and realizes he is wrapped around Cas, whose nose is nuzzled under his jaw and his hot breath is tickling his neck. God, it's heaven! Cas is solid and warm and completely relaxed in his arms and he could stay like this forever.

But then the memories of last night come flooding back. Sam in the hospital. Cas telling him he can't kiss him because of a girl named Anna. Fuck, he mouths silently before letting himself have this for just another minute before he has to let go. He takes a deep breath, savoring the smell of Cas and very slowly pulls his hand out from under Cas' shirt and runs it as gently as he can through his hair. He just wants to feel it graze his fingers… just one more time. He places a silent kiss on Cas' head before carefully rolling back to untangle himself from the gorgeous skater.

He pulls the edge of the blanket over Cas before turning to grab his coat, shoes and cell phone. There is one missed text on his phone: Sam is waking up – Jess. It was sent about a couple of hours ago and Dean berates himself for falling asleep and missing the message. How could he let Sam wake up without him there? After one glance back at the man sleeping on the bed, Dean turns and silently slips through the door, closes it behind him and leans over in the hallway to put his shoes back on. He needs to get to the hospital to see his little brother right away.

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long to post! Its been a crazy couple of weeks. I had the flu then a death in the family, not to mention being behind on everything when I got back to work and school. But thanks for your patience and hope you enjoyed this chapter.