Dean woke the next morning, body crumpled into the crevice of the couch. He opened his eyes, blinking, immediately remembering what had occurred the night before. He bit his bottom lip and rolled his eyes. Cas had kissed him. He mulled over the past couple of weeks, trying to figure out what had led Castiel to act in that way. Then he remembered how he had responded. He had shoved Cas off of him, yelling at him, slamming the door. Cas was drunk, Dean reminded himself. He didn't know what he was doing. Dean sat up, punching the seat cushion in frustration, guilt weighing down on his shoulders. He had to apologize to his angel, he had to make things right.

He pulled himself up, still dressed in the clothes that he wore last night. He looked at the room where he had left Cas, the door still closed from when he had slammed it shut. He took a breath, taking steps toward it, determined to make up for the way he had acted. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt Cas. He set a shaky hand on the door knob, turning it with caution.

"Cas I-" The door flew open, revealing an empty room. The angel was gone. The only evidence that he had ever been inside the room was the creases in the blanket and pillow, still perfectly molded to the form of Cas' body. Dean looked around wildly, and then moved back into the kitchen, looking through every doorway, hoping to see a trench coat or a set of twinkling blue eyes.

"Cas?" Dean called out, praying for a response, but none came. He leaned his head against the wall of the kitchen, closing his eyes, knowing the angel had left. He remembered what Castiel had said to him in his dream.

I won't leave you.

The way Dean had acted toward the angel may have ruined everything. Next to Sammy, Cas was the most important person in his life. After he had lost Jo, Ellen, and his father, Castiel was one of the only people Dean had left. He felt disgusted with himself for speaking to Cas like that, a way which had caused him to vanish without a word. Cas had come back to him, even when he thought he had lost Sam, even when he turned his back on all of them. Cas had been there.

"Morning," cheerfully spoke a voice behind him. It was Sam, emerging from his room with his laptop in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other.

"Mornin' Sammy," responded Dean, a hint of sadness still left in his voice. He coughed, "you been doing some research?"

"Yeah, actually, I may have a job for us. Apparently a woman killed her husband last night in Burlington, Iowa. She slit his throat but claims to have no memory of it. A neighbor who saw her leaving the house after the murder occurred said her eyes looked black when she looked at him."

"Well, sounds like a demon to me. You sure you're up for it?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah, it'll be good to get back out there."

After six hours of driving in the Impala, the boys finally arrived at the Burlington Police Station, dressed in their fed suits, towing their false identifications.

"So, tell me a little about what you found, Officer Brady," said Dean

"Well, Mr. Wilson, he was in the living room, on his back, his eyes wide open. I thought he was just laying there at first and then I saw all the blood. His throat was cut… from ear to ear. It was… horrible." The officer shuddered, recounting the events to the brothers. "Oh, and there was this strange smell, kinda like-"

"Sulfur?"

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess."

The brothers sat in a diner in the center of the town. Dean was digging into a greasy burger accompanied by fries and a soda, while Sam picked at a salad, keeping his attention on his laptop. He looked up at his brother, noticing his mind was elsewhere.

"Dean, are you okay? You've seemed kinda distant lately. I noticed Cas left and I wondered if that's why you were feeling a little down," said Sam to the older hunter.

"What? Yeah, yeah I'm fine," replied Dean, setting his burger down on the plate before him. "Something happened last night Sammy, I don't know what to think."

"Well, what happened?"

"So you know Cas was a little liquored up last night, you know, after downing the whole bottle. And I was helping him to the room to lay down, and he… Sam, he kissed me," Dean explained, waiting for his brother's look of shock. But it didn't come.

Sam looked back toward the computer screen, typing. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"I'm surprised it took him this long."

"Wait, what? You mean you saw this coming?" said Dean with the shocked that lacked from his brother's reaction.

"I mean, c'mon. I see how you two are. Whether you accept it or not, you guys share something. I've got about a 50% success rate in regards to praying to Cas. But whenever you pray, he listens, he shows up. I'm not saying you guys are in love or anything, but you have something. That's not something you can deny."

"Are you telling me I'm the only person in the world who hasn't realized this?"

"Pretty much."

Sam got up with a laugh, taking the keys and heading out to the Impala, leaving his brother in the booth. Dean stared at the nothingness in front of him.

"But, I'm not gay," he said to himself. "I'm not gay," he repeated, trying to believe the words as he spoke them. Dean had never questioned this before. He loved women, he had always loved women. His mind flickered back to the memory of last night. He remember something specific about the kiss. When Cas had thrown himself on Dean, he didn't pull away immediately. It was only after a second or two that he finally stopped. Dean had lingered. Then, Dean realized something that frightened him. It wasn't the act of kissing Castiel that had caused him anger.

It was because he had enjoyed it.