Dean couldn't believe it when he'd gotten the call a few days ago from Castiel Novak. He had met the widowed - and now deceased - Anna Milton a few times on the road and knew she had been highly successful. The opportunity to possibly work at Meadowland Farms made Dean's skin quiver.

There were only a few crumpled dollar bills to his name, and the drive from Maryland to Kentucky would cost much more than that. A night of hustling at the local bar got him enough to fill up the tank of his baby and start on the road. A truck stop served as his hotel for the night since the showers were free and the coffee warm. Wake up was long before the sun so that he could make it to Lexington before noon like he had promised.

Castiel seemed like an odd person on the phone, but Dean was the last person to place judgment on others. The man had seemed nervous about starting their prospect was a filly, but Dean could have cared less if it were a donkey they were trying to race. Hell, there had been some fillies that had won more money than that year's Derby winner. It was a job, and that was what Dean needed most.

It was still considered early by the time he started rolling in through the front gate. The rising sun was shielded by dense blankets of fog on the green hills, the horses shifting like ghosts through the mist. It was Dean's favorite time of day to witness, and it was even more glorious to witness on the track. Even with the fog as thick as it was, the house had no problem peeking through. Dean's heart began to flutter with nervousness as he placed the Impala in park and removed the keys from the ignition. Don't fuck this up kept repeating in his head like a mantra.

Making his way to the door, he rubbed at his hands anxiously before straightening out his jacket and ringing the doorbell. The door swung open and he was met with the kind face of a portly black woman. "Um, hello, ma'am I-,"

"You must be Dean Winchester!" She smiled. "Well don't just stand there, boy, come on in! Name's Missouri. I'm the house help around here," She explained as she closed the door behind him. "Can I get you anything?"

"Ah, no, thank you," He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Looks like you need a shot of tequila if you ask me, the way you're standing there all apprehensive," she commented wryly as she motioned for him to follow her.

Dean swallowed, "That obvious?"

"Just a tad," she spoke over her shoulder. The woman stopped in front of a pair of elaborately decorated double-doors. "Wait here, I'll fetch Castiel for you."

While Missouri disappeared from his view Dean took the time to take in his surroundings. There were old photographs of legends past and trophies lining the walls. He remembered a time when every place he worked at looked this lavish, but it was long ago when he wasn't living out of his Impala and his clothes were brand new.

The door opened behind him, causing a jump from Dean as he whirled around. His heart leapt out of his chest as he came face-to-face with the man he assumed to be Castiel. He was an inch or two shorter than him with tousled dark locks and piercing blue eyes framed with black glasses. His dress was sophisticated, comprising of pressed slacks, rolled-up sleeves of a dress-shirt, and a sweater vest. Dean couldn't help but stare at him, eyes raking over the well-dressed figure; the man was nothing a horse businessman should be like, but everything his groin wanted.

Castiel extended a hand in greeting, "Ah, Dean. I've been expecting you."

Dean's shell-shock caused him to hesitate before he quickly grasped Castiel's hand and shook it firmly with a flush of his cheeks, "Mr. Novak, it's a pleasure."

"Just Castiel, if you please. I suppose I'll show you around and tell you about the place. If you are still interested afterwards we will discuss finalities in my office." Castiel brushed past Dean and led the man back out of the house and towards the main barn. "I hope your drive went smoothly."

Dean shrugged, "I made it here. Can't complain, I guess."

"Hm," Castiel agreed, "Meadowland takes up roughly 100 acres. We only have 15 horses at the moment, and of that only five are actively racing. The rest are for breeding purposes, the mares are all in foal, and then of course there is Lazarus. It was Anna's intentions on purchasing some colts that we could start this year, but..."

Dean swallowed, unsure if he should say something or not, but offered up a, "My condolences."

"It's appreciated," Castiel assured as they approached the barn. "Would it be feasible for you to look into buying two or three colts? Or do you think perhaps that is too much to work with at once?"

"No, no, that's not a problem. Actually," he rubbed at the back of his neck as they stepped foot into the fairly quiet barn, "I have a few in mind I think have a lot of potential." He did not wait for an answer from Castiel before his green eyes fell on the massive bay mare to his right. "Oh, man! Is that Asia?" Without even asking permission he darted up to the stall door and stuck a hand out. The mare instantly shoved her nose against the man's palm looking for affection. "I was there at the Breeder's Cup when Gabriel rode her to win. She's like, the most bad-ass chick I've seen on the track."

"Why, thank you," Gabriel purred as he suddenly popped up like magic next to Dean.

Dean quickly pulled away from the stall, cursing in surprise. "Jesus, man. Do you always do that?"

"Yes," Castiel confirmed in annoyance. "Dean, this is my brother, Gabriel. Gabriel, Dean Winchester."

Gabriel shook hands with a sly grin. "The infamous Dean-o, huh? Well, it just might be your lucky day. If I remember correctly, you are just my baby bro's type."

"Gabriel," Castiel warned with darkened eyes. "That's quite enough. Don't you have things to do?"

Gabriel shrugged, stretching his arms and resting them on top of Asia's stall door, "Nope. Shouldn't I be part of the selection process, anyways?"

"No."

Gabriel frowned and pushed off the door with his foot. "Fine, fine. Just get me a trainer so I can, you know, actually ride!" As he passed by Dean he slapped the man's ass and leaned in to whisper, "Go get 'em, tiger!"

Dean flushed bright red and coughed in embarrassment. Glancing back towards Castiel he was surprised to see the other man was flushed, too. "He always like that?"

"For as long as I've known him, unfortunately. There was always such a time gap between our meetings I always hoped I'd find him changed; perhaps it is something I should give up hope on." Fiddling with the hem of his sweater vest he reorganized himself and held out a hand, "Please, this way. The tack room is over here."

Dean ran a hand down his face to relax it and follow behind. The tack room doubled as a break room with one-half comprised of a kitchenette, a television, and a white table in the center where a young woman with fire-red hair sat with a tablet in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

"Dean, this is our groom, Charlie," Castiel introduced.

Charlie stood with a smile and extended her hand, "Charlie Bradbury, nice to meetcha!" They exchanged pleasantries and she turned her focus to her boss, "I know I was going to give everyone a bath today, but the weather has turned out kind of blah, so I was going to wait until tomorrow."

"Whatever seems best," Castiel nodded and turned to Dean, "Shall we continue?" Dean nodded and fell back into line. Castiel reached for the handle of a door down the alley a bit and opened it, "In here is our feed room-,"

"Bobby?!" Dean pushed past Castiel towards the man scooping grain into buckets.

Bobby dropped the scoop as he caught sight of the man charging for him and met him for the hug. "Dean! It's good to see you, boy!"

Dean felt the tears sting at his eyes as he squeezed his godfather tighter. There was a long moment the two lingered like that until Dean finally pushed the older man away. "I haven't seen or heard from you in years, Bobby. What the hell happened?"

Bobby looked down in shame. "I couldn't. After what happened to your Daddy...I didn't think I could face you."

"What happened to him wasn't your fault. Bobby, we're family. I needed you," Dean raked his fingers through his hair distractedly, still in a sort of shock at the entire situation. It wasn't until a cough from Castiel did the consequences of his actions become real. He had just put him and Bobby at risk.

Bobby knew it, too. "Aw, hell. Castiel, I wouldn't blame you if you fired me for this. I wasn't lying when I said Rufus had called me, but if I know anything about that man it's that he doesn't have a guilty bone in his body. When he told me about Dean I just...I had to do something. He's my godson – he's family."

Castiel stood there in thought, pushing up his glasses on his nose a few times even when it could go no further. "Mr. Singer, I have no intentions on firing you. I never asked if you knew Dean or not, and you gave a recommendation where it was needed. If I did not care about family, Gabriel would no longer be working here, I assure you."

"Ain't that the damn truth," Bobby grumbled. Dean couldn't stop a small grin tugging at his lips; he'd missed Bobby's comments more than he'd wanted to admit.

"I am sure you and Dean have much to catch up on, but we do have business to discuss," Castiel spoke.

Bobby nodded and placed a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder, "It's good to see you, boy."

Dean took in a shuddered breath and nodded. Despite Castiel's words in regards to Bobby, he felt this going south faster than his bank account. His mouth was open ready to spit out apologies and assurance of his skills as he turned to face the blue-eyed man, but Castiel spoke first.

"I'll be frank. No one else wants to work here, and I am desperate. With that being said, I do not want to blindly accept you simply based on my desperation. I do appreciate the enthusiasm you show in working with a filly, but I need your honest opinion; do you think she can win?"

"I can't give you a definite answer, Castiel," Dean began honestly. Licking his lips he contemplated what to say. "All these trainers and breeders out there want to tell you it's all about bloodlines, but that ain't shit; a good racehorse is one who has heart. It's one who wants to be there and won't settle for anything less than seeing only dirt laid out in front of them. I'll know after the first race, but until then it's chance." Swallowing hard, he asked, "Can I see her?"

Castiel sucked in a breath, "Yes, of course. She's at this end of the barn."

Engraved on a golden plaque of the stall was "LAZARUS RISING". The filly poked her head out at the new comers with ears perked forward. She was dark, black in the shadows of the barn. The white star on her forehead curved in such a way it almost looked like a feather. Lazarus whinnied in greeting and Dean reached out to place a palm on her forehead. "She's incredible," he breathed. "Great long legs, strong hips." Dean could feel himself shaking as he stroked the filly's face; he needed this chance, needed this horse. "I'll take minimum salary and a lower percentage pay cut from purses."

Castiel stared back at Dean in shock, blinking several times before furrowing his brow. "That won't be necessary. Should I ultimately decide to hire you it will be with competitive pay and benefits as it had been when Anna was still owner."

"It's just-," Dean bit at his tongue to stop himself. Don't beg, don't beg. He tried to find something to say, but there were no other words he could possibly find. How could he ask a man he'd just met to take him on in blind faith? Biting at his lower lip he closed his eyes, expecting Castiel to throw him out that instant - he was pathetic.

But instead, he got a comforting hand to his shoulder, and eyes full of pity. He hated that look. It was one his brother gave him all the time.

"When Mr. Singer gets ready to take his break, go and have lunch with him. You two have a lot of catching up to do. When you get back, come see me and I will have made my decision," Castiel instructed.

Dean swallowed hard and nodded. Castiel made his leave with not a single word, leaving Dean at Lazarus's stall. Bobby ambled over not long after Castiel had made it out of the barn with hands in his jean pockets and a solemn look. "Well...don't just stand there and look pitiful. Might as well give me a hand."

/*/

"Jesus, bro, you got it bad."

There was an extreme delayed reaction from Castiel for him to avert his eyes from staring in the distance up to his brother. "I'm not sure I follow."

Gabriel was leaning up against the doorframe with a smirk. "I was just kidding about him being your type and all, but now I'm not so sure. That kid has serious self-worth issues and is a walking Friday the 13th, and you've already made up your mind you are going to hire him."

"You act as I have another option," Castiel sighed. "Is he perhaps the most ideal candidate? No. But there is something about him that..." he trailed off trying to grasp at the correct words.

"That makes you warm and fuzzy down-under?" Gabriel offered.

Castiel shot a glare at his brother. "That is honest. I believe he has the horses' best interest at heart, and that he would not run the horses into the ground as so many trainers do."

Gabriel eyed his brother, noting how surprisingly earnest his brother was – there was definitely something to look out for here. The jockey hummed in thought, "I guess. I dunno, I feel a little awkward hiring a hobo."

Castiel rolled his eyes, "So perhaps his clothes were a bit worn, I hardly would consider that -"

"All he owns is that car of his," Gabriel interjected.

"Did he tell you this?" Castiel inquired with a sigh, quickly getting irritated and feeling an intense headache coming on.

"Please," the man snorted, "I can tell. People usually dress in their nicest clothing for business interviews. Are you trying to tell me he has something better and decided to show up in that?"

Castiel could feel his stomach drop. It shouldn't have made him feel guilty, but the sensation was nagging at him with a forceful pull. "I suppose you are right." Folding his hands together he tucked them underneath his chin. "Well, then, it seems we each have something the other needs. He has the necessary skills and knowledge to train, and I have basic living necessities."

Gabriel propped his right foot against the frame and looked down at the carpet, and all trace of teasing in his voice was gone when he spoke. "So what happens when you inevitably leave in a week when you have to go back to work?"

That hit Castiel like a slap to the face. Work had been scratching at the corner of his mind, but every time it tried to surface he had pushed it back to focus on things at the farm. "I have a life outside of this farm, Gabriel."

His brother gave an angry grunt, "What life, Cassie?" he asked scathingly. "A life as a loner and a recluse who gets his kicks studying old dead people? Who can't even have a conversation face-to-face? We're talking about your family! So you're just going to walk away and let me down? Let Anna down?!"

"I did not ask for this, Gabriel!" Castiel slammed his fist on the desk causing a few statues to fall and papers to go flying off.

"Yeah, well, you were dealt it!" Gabriel argued back, pushing off the frame angrily. "It's bad enough you plan on screwing me, Charlie, and Bobby over, but don't you dare get this guy's hopes up just to throw him to the wolves."

Castiel's eyes grew cold, "Don't you insinuate -,"

"I'm not insinuating anything - it's fact. You've always gone and done your own thing, leaving us behind. Just put the damn farm up for sale and go!" He grabbed hold of the wooden double doors and slammed them shut behind him.

Castiel felt himself shaking and he tried to hold it in, but a sob escaped his lips as he tried to breathe.

For hours Castiel had stared at the phone on his desk trying to gain the courage to call his boss back at the Smithsonian while Gabriel's words echoed in his head; every time he went to pick it up, his nerves failed him. Dean and Bobby had left in the Impala about forty-five minutes ago, and could be back at any moment. He had to do this...he had to make the call.

With a shuddered breath and shaking hands he picked up his cell and dialed the number for his boss, Naomi. He prayed that she would not answer, but after three rings she heard her mellow voice.

"Castiel? I didn't expect to hear from you before your return."

"Yes, well," he grabbed hold of a pen and began clicking it nervously, "Some extenuating circumstances have come up that I must discuss with you."

"Do you need a few more days?"

Castiel could feel the lump in his throat growing. "Not exactly. I...," God, help him. "My sister left me her business in her Will."

There was a silence on the other end of the line before a cautious, "I see. And what are your plans?"

Castiel's grip on the pen was so tight that it cracked the plastic. "I believe it would be best if I stay here and carry on my sister's legacy."

There was a long and drawn out sigh. "Castiel, in all the years you've worked for me you have never once talked about your family or ever taken off time to visit. It was as if you had none. Now all of a sudden you want to throw away the life you had here for a business you know nothing about? You are our finest historian. If this is about money, I'm sure I can get you a significant raise -,"

Castiel could feel himself panicking. "It's not about money, Naomi, It's -," there was a knock at the door.

"Castiel, Dean Winchester has returned," Missouri's voice called through the door.

"Just a moment!" Castiel called back, his heart racing violently in his chest. It was now or never. "I'm very sorry, but I - I - I quit!" Castiel quickly ended the phone call and let the cell drop from his hands to the desk, hands quivering with such strength he could no longer hold on.

"Castiel?" Missouri cracked open the door to take a peek, but quickly found herself barging over to the desk. "Child! What's wrong with you?!"

Castiel could not stop shaking. "I'm scared. What if I fail?"

"Oh, honey," Missouri sighed, "We're all scared of failing. It's in our nature, but we must take risks if we want to be truly happy in life."

"I was happy!" He argued.

"Hmm," she hummed, "Happy, or just content?" Castiel gave no answer. "For what it's worth, I think you did the right thing. Your sister would be mighty proud of you. It's all gonna work out in the end, you hear?"

"How can you say that?"

"Well, not to brag or nothing, but my friends used to say I was a bit of a psychic," she smiled. "I'm gonna go in the kitchen and fetch you some water, and then you are going to tell that boy he's hired."

"For a maid you sure are very demanding that things be done," Castiel scoffed, although it was light-hearted.

"Boy, I ain't no maid, I'm the house help, and I'm helping you keep this house, you understand me?" Missouri didn't bother waiting for answer as she turned on her heel and headed back out of the office. True to her word she brought him a cold glass of water to help calm his nerves and then Dean Winchester was waiting in the leather chair in front of his desk.

"I hope your visit with Mr. Singer was enjoyable," Castiel began casually, reaching for his phone to turn it off as it vibrated once more with Naomi's frantic calls.

"Yeah," Dean wiped his palms on his pants and cleared his throat, feeling impatient to hear the answer of what he was really there for, but too cautious to ask for the answer outright. "Yeah, it was real good catching up."

"That's good to hear." Castiel pushed his glasses back onto his face and began, "You will be paid $85/per horse/per day with the ability for a raise if they perform above standard. Should you find us some colts, I would pay you a bloodstock charge. It will be your responsibility to pay Gabriel and Charlie for their services to any horse under your training. Anna never liked how things were traditionally done in regards to trainers paying for feed and stall maintenance, so that will not be required of you. If the horse shows in a race, you will receive 10% of the winnings. Again, should the horses exceed expectations there is room for advancement. The small house behind the barn is yours. You are more than welcome to join us for meals if you choose, but it is not required. Is this acceptable?" He held his breath, his pulse beating wildly.

Dean's mouth was slightly ajar. "Holy - yeah. That's more than acceptable, thank you! I promise I'm going to make Lazarus a winner!"

Castiel gave a soft smile, "I do hope that comes to pass, but, Dean, may I be honest?"

Dean's excitement was quickly squashed as he sat down hesitantly. "Uh, sure."

"I know nothing of this world. I could barely tell you the difference between a place and a show until a few days ago. Taking over this business was very unexpected, and I am handling it the best I know how." Castiel looked down quickly, then met Dean's gaze once more, letting a little of the helplessness he was feeling into his words. "All I ask is that by my offering you a helping hand, you do the same for me."

Dean's tense face softened and his body relaxed as he smiled and stared into those brilliant blue eyes. "Hey, no problem, Cas. Whatever you need, I'm your guy."

Castiel's heart fluttered under Dean's gaze - and for the first time since Gabriel's phone call, he felt unafraid.