It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke; so three hunters are sitting at the table playing cards, and one of them says…

"Do you think people ever change?"

"You idgit."

"I was just asking a question, Bobby."

"People don't ask that kinda question 'less they did something stupid. And looking at the mouth it's coming from, stupid's pretty much assured."

Sam laughed, Dean frowned. He was losing miserably; he was too busy thinking about the fight to play the other hunters in even the simplest of card games. He threw his hand down with a sigh.

"Who wants another beer?"

"I'm the last person that should be sayin' anything 'bout drinking, but maybe you wouldn't be losing all your money if you hadn't been drinking since you dragged your sorry ass outta bed this mornin'," Bobby chided.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means we're tired of watching you get up mope around drinking. All you do is watch Doctor Sexy and shoot down leads I find."

"Sam's right Dean, you ain't done nothin' since you got here a week ago."

"I'm just having an off spell, fuck off. Sammy went to Stanford, Bobby you're a hermit anyways. Can't I just have a little time off without anyone ragging on me? Goddamn!" he stomped out. Dean was prone to hissy fits when things didn't go his way, though no one had the guts to point it out to him.

"What the hell's got his panties in such a twist?"

"He's been like this since the vamp raid with Marya."

"You think it's about her? I've met the lady, she could bust his balls good if he messed up with her."

"There was a lipstick kiss print on the driver's side window of the impala the next morning so I don't think things went badly between them. I mean she was a stone cold bitch, but she gave respect where it was due."

They both had set down their cards. The game spirit had been lost with Dean's temper. Sammy thought for a moment.

"You know, I haven't seen Cas since then. Every time I ask Dean how things are going he gets all mad and," Sam paused to get into character, puffing out his chest and overdramatically scowling, "'Everything's fine, Sammy. It's none of your business anyways so leave it alone.'"

"That idgit. He slept with her."

"Oh shit. We've seen what happens when you piss off an angel."

"That numbskull. Goodness gracious, do you boys ever do anything without making a mess of things?"

Upstairs Dean lay on the old sunken mattress of the only home he'd ever had. Bobby's house was a labyrinth of spare rooms filled with junk and extra beds for wayward hunters needing a bed, but Sam and Dean both had their rooms. His fingers drummed on the wrought iron frame. He could hear the muffled voices from below, and he knew they were talking about him. He listened to the sounds of the dilapidated house and after a while the footfalls of the men retiring to their rooms. His mind drifted to Cas. He hadn't seen him since the fight. He didn't think they were over; he had two more strikes according to his boyfriend. They had both definitely needed some time to cool down. He wondered what angels did to relax. They probably didn't. Cas had been awfully uptight before they started spending so much time together. Angels were workaholics, and normally hunters were too. Dean's normal response to unwelcome emotion was to hunt anything and everything. If it could bleed, he would drain it. If it could be killed, it had met its match. But right now he simply couldn't muster up energy to care about anything other than moping. Saying he felt terrible would be like saying the Titanic hit an ice cube. He hated himself for what he'd done. He loved Castiel, he would do anything for him, or at least that's what he thought. Was it simply his nature to not be tied down to one person? He knew enough to realize instinct drove him to seek out many women. It was survival instinct to mate with as many women as he could. He liked to be with women. But he loved to be with Cas. Just sitting in silence with him was enough to make his entire week. When the angel was gone he felt as if someone had taken a piece out of him. Cas had grown to know him, his true inner self, better than anyone. Around Cas his macho façade wasn't necessary. And he'd just shattered that into a million pieces because of hormones and irresistible proximity. Way to go, Dean.

The old house creaked in the wind; he could hear the trees rustling outside but also the now familiar sound of wings. He looked around the small room but couldn't see anything. The room was dimly illuminated by floodlights watching over the scrap yard pouring through the window.

"Cas?"

"Hello, Dean," he said as he stepped into the stream of light.

"Cas, I'm—I just want—I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Are you still mad?"

"I believe I am what they call 'peeved,'" he looked thoughtful, Dean sighed at the sight of the beautiful man before him. "I'm very hurt by your actions."

"I know. I'm an asshole, Cas."

"I agree."

"I'm so fucking sorry. I got carried away, I should have known better. But I just…I'm sorry. There is no excuse for what I did, it was horrible."

"I meant what I said. About the three strikes."

"I know."

"I love you, Dean. But I cannot abide betrayal. You chose to be with me, if you do not want to you are free to leave."

Dean shot off the bed. He overcame his initial instinct to be defensive and instead moved closer to the angel, "I chose this. I chose you."

"You chose her too."

Ouch.

"Cas, I fucked up. I'm sorry, okay?" He reached out and took Castiel's hands in his, "It was a mistake I will never make again. I'm…I…I love you."

"Never again?" The angel's posture relaxed for the first time.

"Never."

"Do you swear it?"

"On whatever I have left of my soul."

"You have your complete soul, I patched it myself."

"Then I swear on everything."

"Okay."

"Okay? We're okay?"

"Yes."

Dean threw his arms around the angel in relief. He breathed in the smell of him, of the trench coat, and felt their bodies relax in each other's arms as Castiel returned the hug.

"I'm so sorry," he said into the angel's shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He kissed the angel. It felt like their first kiss, full of longing and promise. He never knew what he had until he was on the verge of losing it. He vowed he'd never do that again. But somewhere in the back of his mind, the answer to his earlier question scratched at him.
No, people never do change.

He prayed that wasn't true.