He hadn't slept in days. He'd been too busy waiting for some news. Too busy praying for anyone, Remiel, Uriel, Anna, Gabriel, mostly Castiel to answer him. He'd dropped Sam at Bobby's and left when his brother was bringing his bags inside. He turned his phone on silent, he didn't want a case, he didn't want to talk to Sam or Bobby, he just wanted Cas back. There was a path worn in the shabby motel rug from where he'd been pacing. Empty bottles littered the room. If he left, it was only to acquire more alcohol. His stomach long empty and eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He remembered the way Castiel's body looked like a rag doll dropped from a building. The mermaid's lethal fingers embedded into his skin. The way Cas' warm skin felt under his lips. The curve of his smile. The way his hand would attach to Dean's hip when they were standing close.

Another bottle joined the collection.

"Castiel, you fucking bastard," he slurred under his breath.

"I was expecting a warmer welcome."

Dean jumped and tried to spin towards the voice, but his alcohol impaired balance sent him tumbling to the ground.

Except he never made it there.

Castiel caught the man, and lowered them both gently to the worn floor. His back against the bed, Dean's head was in his lap. He stroked the hunter's short hair gently. Dean remembered the way Cas' head looked in his lap on the altar and shuddered.

"You were dying. You were going to die," he didn't know what else to say.

"You saved me."

"I guess we're even now," he rolled over so he could look up at the angel. "You save me from hell, I save you from a mermaid. Even steven."

"Remiel told me they had given up hope of finding me."

"He told me they said it was impossible for you to save me."

Castiel didn't say anything; he continued stroking Dean's hair.

"'We've done the impossible, that makes us mighty.'"

"That's too clever to be all Dean. Where did you hear it?"

Dean laughed, the angel was right and he knew it.

"It was just some show on the science fiction channel."

"How long have you been in this room?"

"Since the day after we found you."

"That was a week and a half ago."

"Yeah."

The angel rose from the floor and helped the other man to his feet.

"Time for bed, Dean."

He didn't protest as the angel started to help him out of his clothes and into the bed. He was too unsteady to do it himself.

"Cas?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Please be here when I wake up."

"Of course," he kissed the hunter on the forehead. Dean promptly passed out.

Castiel was still sore and weak. He'd needed to be transfused with more grace. It reminded him of human blood transfusions, but it was akin to putting fire inside your veins. He needed time to heal. He'd been given time off of duty, and he knew he would have healed faster in Heaven, but he needed to see Dean. He'd heard all his prayers, a constant stream of them for days. He wasn't going to mention to Dean he'd heard the one about going to the crossroads if it would save Cas, or the one about going back to hell if it meant he'd be okay. Some things were between Dean and himself, and Castiel would let that be. He set to work picking up and discarding the empty bottles. He found fresh clothes for the hunter, and laid them on the empty side of the bed. Dean slept for twelve hours. When he awoke the angel ushered him to the shower, something about smelling like "a boar that wrestled a brewery." When he got out Cas had gotten them some coffee and breakfast. He felt a little embarrassed Cas had seen him so out of sorts. Again.

"Thanks for everything, Cas."

"It's no problem."

"You're always picking up after me though, I'm sorry."

"Eat your sausage and stop being a baby, Dean Winchester. I do it because I love you."

Dean smiled, he liked when the angel got all bossy. They ate in silence, just enjoying each other's company. Both of the men felt at rest for the first time since the whole ordeal began, trading smiles with the other, stealing food from the other, and just taking in the sight of the other being okay. When they had finished eating, Dean watched Castiel do the crossword in the paper he had picked up. He enjoyed moments like these, watching the angel become a man. Sometimes he worried about him falling, but he that would mean Castiel would just be with him, and live a human life with him. That didn't sound too bad to Dean. He got up and walked around the table behind his significant other. His hands gripped Cas' shoulders firmly, "I saw your wings."

"Oh. I wasn't told that."

The hands massaged his shoulders, pausing to pull off the trench coat and suit coat, "They were beautiful, Cas. I'd like to see them again sometime. Preferably not when a fucking mermaid is sucking the life out of you."

His whole body was a bit sore still, he couldn't decide if the hands kneading his back felt good or bad. They pressed where the base of his wings would be and he gasped quietly.

"I'm sorry, am I hurting you?" the hands pulled away, his back felt cold where they'd been.

"I'm still healing. Getting your grace healed, it's a very intense procedure."

"Oh man, I'm sorry. I should have asked. I should have found you sooner."

He stood up and grabbed Dean by the shoulders, "You saved me when everyone else had given up hope. You, Dean Winchester, raised me from perdition." The angel kissed him hard. He kissed him like the antidote to all his ills could be found in Dean's lips, because to him it could. They needed each other. Hands hurriedly tearing off clothes, they needed to have nothing between them. Castiel led them to the bed, for the first time Dean noticed he could still see marks on the angel from where the tendrils had dug too deep to be healed completely. So deep they even scarred his vessel. His fingers hovered over them, his lips kissed them gently. Castiel wasn't sure what side of pain or pleasure that action registered on, it made him shiver and it made his cock twitch. Dean's trained eyes scanned every inch of the angel's body, kissing and laving over every mark he saw. He couldn't miss what it did the other man, at this point he was teasing him. Kissing down his hips, biting at the ridges of his toned body. If he continued like this, Cas was going to blow before Dean ever made it to his dick. Watching the angel twitch and grow hard under his touch was almost too much for Dean himself to take; every sigh and gasp he made had Dean's heart pounding harder. His tongue trailed back up Cas' torso, to his neck, to his mouth. He smirked when Cas gasped into the kiss when Dean's hand wrapped around his aching cock. His own felt painfully neglected, but he didn't care. He was so close just watching his lover come so undone.

"Come on, Cas. Come for me, babe."

That did it; it pushed Castiel over the edge. His head tossed back, eyes lidded, mouth agape moaning out. He spilled over Dean's hand and onto his stomach. Watching him come to completion pushed Dean, still untouched, over the edge too. He collapsed next to his lover, "I hope that doesn't set back your healing."

"Isn't there a song called 'Sexual Healing?'"

"Did Castiel 'I-Don't-Understand-That-Reference' Angel-of-the-Freaking-Lord just make a pop culture reference? I guess old dogs can learn new tricks."

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Cas," he leaned over to kiss the angel. "Now enough with the mushy moments. I'm going to go get some movies, and we're going to heal you the Dean Winchester way?"

"With bad action movies and Chinese takeout?"

"Exactly!" He beamed at the angel.

"I think I was better off in Heaven."

They both dissolved into laughter.

All was right again.