Castiel checked his watch as he picked up his brief case and headed toward his office door.

"Cooper, I'm leaving," he said.

"Good luck," Cooper said. "Find that baby a home."

Castiel laughed slightly and held up his hand partially as he went toward the elevators. He texted Dean on the way down to let him know he was on his way to meet with the realtor. Dean wrote him back before the elevator reached the parking garage.

Dean: won't make it. Take pics. Bobby's being a dick

Ok. Come to my house after work.

Castiel drove the fifteen minutes outside of downtown and into a quieter section of the city. The lawns were well maintained, but each house was unique. It wasn't nearly the suburbs, which he and Dean agreed was a benefit. It also wasn't far from his work or Dean's.

The house was eclectic, which Castiel strangely liked. While the kitchen was updated and large, it still had antique styled appliances. There was wood and tile on the kitchen and formal living room floors, but the den and bedrooms were thickly carpeted. The room that would be the nursery overlooked the privacy-fenced backyard. There was already a swing set toward the corner. They would be able to get a dog. Dean had said how he wanted to get one when the baby was older, so they could grow together. Castiel could see that happening here.

Castiel drove back to his apartment and kneaded at his stomach. It had been awhile since he'd had morning sickness, but until a week ago he had still been taking the medication for it daily. Now he felt slightly nauseous. When he reached his flat, he took one of his anti-nausea pills and went to the living room.

He turned on the news and watched the financial report while he waited for the medication to take effect. Before it had, he was in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet with his stomach aching. The salad he ate for lunch had been fresh, but maybe the chicken wasn't.

The pressure slacked a fraction when he managed to use the bathroom some, but there wasn't enough to justify how badly his stomach was beginning to hurt. He pushed harder and when he stopped, his stomach contracted again on its own. He was glad Dean hadn't come to the showing. He wasn't able to do this silently and the noises were embarrassing.

Then he felt warmth trickle from his opening and slide down the skin behind his testicles. He pushed again and felt more. His chest was suddenly very tight and cold as he stood and looked into the toilet. Watery red liquid clung to his balls then dripped down his thigh. The water in the bowl of the toilet was tinged red.

Castiel laid in the bathtub, staring at the tiled wall. His stomach seized and he pushed without thought. He no longer watched the tendrils of blood leaving his body. He had drained the water twice when it became too cool and clouded.

He heard keys turning in the front door then Dean's footsteps.

"Cas?" he called.

"In here," Castiel said.

He heard Dean walking then glanced at the open door.

"How did the house hunt-," Dean said, then he stopped and looked at Castiel. "What's wrong?"

Castiel watched him come forward and see into the toilet, his eyes trailing down to the blood on the rim of the seat, and leading to the bathtub. Then the water of the bath.

"Come on, we need to get you to the hospital," Dean said, taking Castiel's arm.

"They can't do anything," Castiel said hoarsely. "I called."

"Bullshit they can't!" Dean said.

Castiel laid still and watched him without lifting his head from the tile wall behind him. He watched the emotions play over Dean's face, anger, denial, then sorrow.

"Goddamn it, Cas, I'm so sorry," Dean said and pulled him forward.

Castiel closed his eyes and laid his cheek against Dean's shoulder. Dean held the far side of his face and rubbed his back with the other. Castiel breathed in the smell of him, felt the solidness of his body, and he began to choke on the raggedness of his own grief as it welled from his eyes and throat. Dean held him while he shattered into himself and his stomach continued to ache, forcing their child from his womb.

When Castiel woke the next morning, he heard Dean talking quietly. He glanced down toward the living room without lifting his head. Dean was on the phone. The beginning of morning light was still gray on the lower walls. Castiel closed his eyes again and held the comforter closely.

Then he felt the bed shift and the heard the comforter moving as Dean climbed in behind him once again. He put his arm around Castiel and spooned him tightly. He kissed the back of Castiel's neck softly.

"You awake, Cas?" Dean asked quietly.

"Yes," Castiel said.

"I called Cooper. He's moving around your meetings for today and tomorrow."

"Thank you," Castiel said quietly. "I don't want to be awake yet."

"Do I need to get you something to help you asleep?"

"The OxyContin in the medicine cabinet. My stomach hurts."

Dean got back out of bed and the bathroom light shone on the bed as Den turned it on and dug in the medicine cabinet. Then the light was flipped off and Dean came back to the bed and gave Castiel the pills along with a bottle of water from the bedside table.

After swallowing, Castiel laid back down and Dean wrapped himself around him again.

"Roll over," Dean said.

Castiel did and Dean brought the blankets up farther around his shoulders then he kissed Castiel gently. They kissed for a very long time without it becoming deep. Dean was a very physical person and if this was how he showed his support and his sadness, then Castiel could cope.

When Castiel finally pulled away, Dean wiped the tears from his own face. The red veins in his eyes made his iris look very green. Castiel wondered if their child's eyes would have been green and all he felt was numb.

"I love you, Cas."

"I love you too."

"It's going to be okay."

"I know."

It didn't feel okay. This was not okay, but he allowed Dean to sleep, letting himself believe that he had given comfort while Castiel stayed away, watching the sun rising through the blinds and praying for unconsciousness.

Dean woke him when the sun was on the opposite side of the building. It threw Dean's face into shadow as he kissed him softly and ran his hand over his side.

"Why don't you come eat something?" Dean asked.

"I'm not hungry."

Dean frowned, but stroked his cheek. He looked like he wanted to argue, but he only nodded. "Okay."

Castiel expected Dean to go eat, but he stayed where he was, pulling him more closely again. He closed his eyes again even as his head ached from too much sleep, but his body felt heavy. He was suddenly very aware that being alive felt heavy. He forced himself back to sleep and wished for it to last a very long time.

Castiel slept the remainder of the day and the next, he stayed in bed although he could hardly sleep. Dean brought his laptop into the bed with him.

"Want to watch a movie?" Dean asked, stroking Castiel's temple.

"You can put one on," Castiel said.

Dean opened one of the Monty Python movies and pulled Castiel against his chest while the computer rested on his stomach. Castiel didn't laugh, but it touched his heart that Dean would watch it with him and the moments that Dean leaned down to kiss the top of his hair while he rubbed his back.

Castiel moved between sluggish consciousness and sleep through the hours and most times Dean was with him. When he woke to it dark outside, Dean's face was bathed in the monitor light of the computer screen.

"Hey," Dean said, smiling small.

Castiel looked at him before leaning up and kissing him. His mouth couldn't have tasted pleasant, but Dean held him close and touched his face tenderly. Castiel thought he may have pushed for the kiss to deepen, but it hardly mattered which of them did it. Dean put the laptop on the floor then pulled Castiel on top of him.

Dean pushed into him carefully, watching his face closely. Castiel's insides were tender, but his eyes were burning from the touch of Dean's hands on him. It was very slow with the sounds of their breathing and their bodies moving. Castiel wasn't concerned with the pleasure of it, there was something deeper that he needed, restless numbness that made him feel like screaming. Dean's hands on him were something alive. Dean brought him to climax before he did the same, pressed tightly into Castiel's body. Dean held him on his chest with his face pressed to Castiel's neck.

"It's going to be okay, Cas," Dean said.

Castiel closed his eyes when he realized Dean were crying. He didn't pull away, he kept his face hidden again Dean's shoulder. Guilt swelled inside of him and he only allowed himself to numb further.

The next day, Cooper smiled at Castiel as he went toward his office.

"Good morning, Mr. Novak," Cooper said.

"Cooper. What do I have today?"

"Easy day. No meetings. Some phone calls to make and emails to answer. You can even do it from home if you want," Cooper said.

"Thank you," Castiel said, trying to be grateful for Cooper's sweet smile, but he could see passed it. To the sympathy and pity in Cooper's eyes that he wasn't giving voice to. Castiel was grateful for that at least as he stepped into his office.

There was a coffee from his preferred coffee shop on his desk with a ham and cheese croissant from another shop a few blocks from the coffee shop. It was a sweet gesture. He appreciated it, even if he tasted little as he chewed.

He started his computer and sorted through his email. He had answered three before he opened the next. It was from the custom carpenter he'd contacted to make the nursery furniture asking for measurements. He stared at the screen with a void of feeling. He replied, telling them it was no longer needed. Then he went through his bookmarked pages and deleted the concepts and designs for the nursery.

When it was over, he picked up his office phone and made his first call of the day.

That night, Dean texted him when it was passed seven and asked when he would be home. Castiel texted him and said he wouldn't be home. He was entangled with the preparations for a meeting next month that needed to go well. Dean offered to come meet him, but Castiel refused.

When he finally went home, the television was still on and Dean was asleep on the couch. Castiel squeezed his shoulder over the back of the couch as he loosened his tie. Dean came awake slowly, rubbing his face.

"Hey, baby."

"Come to bed," Castiel said.

"Yeah," Dean said, getting up and stretching. "What time is it?"

"Just after four."

Dean frowned, "You're just getting home?"

"I had work to do," Castiel said.

Dean shook his head, like he was trying to clear sleep. "There's food in the fridge."

"I'm not hungry," Castiel said, then he went to the bedroom and stripped to his underwear before crawling into bed.

He heard Dean's snores long before he ever fell into a dreamless sleep.

Castiel worked on preparations for the meeting over the next week. He came home at three or four each morning and left again before eight. The Friday after he miscarried, Dean was sitting at the kitchen table when Castiel walked in, sitting his briefcase by the door.

"Hello," Castiel said.

"Hey," Dean said, twisting a bottle on the table top and giving him a small smile. "Just made dinner about an hour ago."

"I'm not hungry."

Castiel look off his jacket and laid it over the back of the kitchen chair across the small circular table from Dean. The blue numbers on the oven said it was after three. Castiel went to the cabinet and sorted through his coffee beans until finding the expresso. He started the coffee maker then went back to his briefcase and took out a folder, taking it back to the table.

"How was work?" Dean asked.

"Fine," Castiel said, frowning as he brought out the papers from the manila envelope. "Can you not sleep?"

Dean shrugged, playing in a line of condensation left from his beer. "Figured I'd wait up. What are you working on?"

"That proposal the engineers are making next month," Castiel said.

"Already?"

"Mhm."

"You work your ass off."

"How else do you think I got to where I'm at?" Castiel asked, squinting at the paper. He'd been reading all day. He blinked for a drawn out moment. The coffee maker beeped and he stood up, making himself a cup.

"Why don't you go ahead and come to bed with me?" Dean asked.

"I'm not tired."

Dean scooted his chair back then carefully took the mug from Castiel's hand. Then he threaded his fingers through Castiel's.

"Come on. You've worked enough this week. Take it easy this weekend."

"I have to fly to Boston tomorrow."

Dean frowned, "How long will you be gone?"

"I have to be back by tomorrow night, because I have a brunch on Sunday with Morrison."

"Cas, come on. They can't expect you to work that much."

"Well it's planned," Castiel said.

Dean frowned, but exhaled heavily. "Then come to bed."

"I'm not tired and I have things to do," Castiel said, taking his hand from Dean. He took his coffee and sat back at the kitchen table, opening the file again.

He glanced up when he heard Dean's chair scrape back again. Dean opened his laptop and looked at the screen. In the dim lighting from the lamp in the living room and the harsh monitor light, the bags beneath Dean's eyes were very deep.

"Go to bed, Dean," Castiel said.

"Not tired," Dean said, propping his chin on his elbow as he stared at the screen.

It was a lie, but Castiel didn't care enough to argue. The quiet settled between them with the turn of the occasional page from the file and Dean's tapping on his keyboard.

"How have you been feeling?" Dean asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Like your stomach, has it been hurting?"

"Some. I've made an appointment for next week."

"What day? I'll come with you."

Castiel shook his head without looking up. "I made it during my lunch break. If I need my cervix cleaned then it shouldn't take more than a few hours."

"Cas."

Castiel looked up slightly frustrated after trying to read.

"You aren't going to the appointment alone, so tell me when it is or I'll just call Cooper."

"Thursday at two."

"Alright I'll pick you up at work."

"Dean, you don't have to-."

"Just shut up. I'm going to."

Castiel nodded and looked back at his work. He was lost in it when his eyes finally started to burn from exhaustion. He looked up and saw the beginnings of sunrise bleeding through the lower blinds. Dean snored softly across the table. His chin was still propped on his palm. The laptop had gone dark, making the discoloration beneath Dean's eyes darker.

Castiel put his work away and woke Dean. Castiel set his alarm for three hours later before getting into bed near Dean, who had already fallen asleep once again. It did not come as easily for himself.

When Castiel laid back on the examination table the next week, Dean held his hand. Castiel stared at the ceiling that he was becoming sick of after over a year of seeing it while Dr. Aims moved between his legs. When he winced at one of the tools brushing his cervix, Dean squeezed his hand.

"Okay?"

"I'm fine," Castiel said.

"Almost finished, Castiel," Dr. Aims said.

Castiel waited until Dr. Aims rolled away and he heard the snap of gloves being taken off.

"All done," Dr. Aims said.

Dean pulled Castiel up and kissed his temple. Castiel fought the urge to pull away as he looked at Dr. Aims.

"You don't need a D&C. All the tissues cleared themselves."

"That's good, right?" Dean asked, with his arm still around Castiel.

Dr. Aims smiled small at Dean. "Yes." Then Dr. Aims cleared his throat. "I know it feels like there is no good aspect to this situation, but it is positive that you were able to conceive in the first place. If you're wanting a family I see no reason why you shouldn't continue to try."

Dean pulled Castiel's hand up and kissed the back, looking at him, like there were not another person in the room. "That's great."

Castiel cleared his throat, "Then why did I miscarry?"

"It's almost impossible to tell. At least 20% of omegas lose their first pregnancy early. It could be there wasn't a solid adhesion to the uterine wall or something as simple as chromosomes not paring correctly."

Castiel nodded, "Okay, thank you."

When Dr. Aims stood to leave he took Castiel's free hand roughly in his warm dry palm.

"I'm very sorry, both of you, but stay hopeful."

Castiel nodded again, "Thank you."

Dr. Aims went to the door and Dean squeezed Castiel's shoulder.

"I'll be right back," Dean said.

Dean followed Dr. Aims from the room, leaving the door cracked. Castiel stood, the paper of the exam table crackling loudly. He began to pull on his clothing when he heard Dean's voice not far beyond the door.

"He's just out of it. He's working himself like crazy. He hardly sleeps. He doesn't eat," Dean said quietly.

"That's not uncommon," Dr. Aims said just as quietly. "This is very painful for any omega. There a deep feeling of guilt often, on top of the loss. Be patient with him, but don't allow him to be wrapped up too long in his pain. That goes for any omega, but particularly with a personality like Castiel."

Their voices were so quiet that Castiel wouldn't have heard them if he hadn't paused in pulling on his clothes. When he wanted to hear no more, he finished dressing. He was buttoning his dress shirt when the office door came open and Dean smiled small at him.

"You ready?"

"Yes."

On the way back to Castiel's office, Castiel stared out of the Impala's window at the passing buildings and people walking with only seeing flashes of color and thinking of the work he had left to do this evening. He only noticed they were on the wrong street when Dean came to a stop along the curb. He glanced up at the building they were beside. It was the pub.

"I'm starving," Dean said, opening his door and closing it as Castiel began to argue.

They were seated at the bar and when Castiel tried to only order something to drink, Dean overrode him and ordered two bacon cheeseburgers. Castiel stared at the mirror behind the bar where he could see the patrons behind them, eating, talking.

"What all do you have left to do today?" Dean asked.

"A meeting and some other things."

"Why don't I hang around until after you meeting and we can go down and watch Benny play with his band?"

"I don't want to go out."

"Then we can just go back to your house."

"I have work to do."

"Cas, it's almost Friday. Why don't you just clear your stuff tomorrow or at least some of it and we go out to your snotty beach house you keep talking about? We could handle some sun. Get out of the city for the weekend."

Castiel shook his head, "I have meetings this weekend. I'll be lucky to get home before one tomorrow morning."

Their server set their food in front of them before Dean could reply. Castiel ordered another drink as he took a bite of his fries. The grease of them clinging to his fingers made his stomach roll. However, he ate them before Dean could complain that he wasn't. Then he started on his burger.

The meat was done medium rare, like he took it. As he bit into it blood coloring leaked onto his fingers. He wiped them as his stomach threatened to heave. At some level, he realized he should be hungry. The last thing he ate was a yogurt cup with granola Cooper had brought him very early that morning.

But he wasn't hungry. However, he ate, because it kept him from having to speak and that kept Dean quiet as well.

During the weekend, Castiel had as much time off as he expected, which was very little. He didn't mind. He was getting ahead on his work. When he had been spending time at home with Dean he'd fallen into a rhythm of letting his work fall to a lesser priority. It was comforting to be back to his pattern before Dean came along, simpler.

When he went into his apartment on Saturday, Dean wasn't there. He felt the tension drain out of him as he undid his tie in his dark quiet home and went to his computer.

The next night, Dean wasn't there either. When he sent Castiel a picture of mountains, Castiel remembered Dean was going to see distant family for the weekend with Sam. He replied something simple before tossing away his phone and forgetting it as he worked.

On Monday, Cooper opened Castiel's office door.

"Mr. Novak, Dean is on line 1. He wants to know when you'll be home," Cooper said.

"Thank you," Castiel said, picking up his office phone and hitting one as Cooper let the door close again. "Hello, Dean."

"Hey, are you coming home any time soon?"

"Not for a few more hours."

"Could I come get you for dinner then? Haven't seen you all weekend."

"I've already eaten," Castiel said.

"Okay, well could we go get a drink down at the pub or something?"

"If you want."

The line was quiet as Castiel looked over an email on his screen. He was typing a reply before he realized Dean hadn't spoken.

"Are you still there?"

"Yeah. I'm here."

Castiel felt a small flare of pain in his chest at Dean's voice. He cleared his throat. "Do you want to go get a drink?"

"I'm pretty tired. Let's just forget it."

Castiel's moment of pain turned to a short faint tinge of concern. "Okay. I'll be home in an hour or so."

"Sounds good, Cas."

"Okay," Castiel said.

"I love you."

"You too," Castiel said as he hung up.

While he wrote the reply to the email he'd been looking at, he forgot about the short spark of pain. When he noticed a clock again, it was passed midnight. He went home then and found Dean asleep in bed. He laid down beside him.

Before he went to sleep, he rolled over and kissed the back of Dean's neck. The feel of his warmth caught Castiel by surprised. He slid his hand up Dean's ribs and tried to remember the last time he had touched him. He couldn't as he took off his clothes and curled into the shape of Dean's back.

Castiel was at his desk as Friday passed into the early hours of Saturday. Three weeks from now they had a meeting. The sooner he did the notes the sooner the team could get the project to him for revision. The financial calendar was up for review in eight months. He needed to begin going over what information they had from that as well.

Then his office door came open and Dean walked inside. Even in the dimness of his office, he could see Dean was angry. His phone had vibrated some time ago, he had meant to call Dean back, but every time he went to reach for his phone, he became side-tracked.

"Alright. Enough of this bullshit, Cas."

"What are you talking about?" Castiel asked.

"I talked to Cooper. Want to know what he told me?"

"I don't know."

"He said you haven't had any projects due that would cause you to be here this late so much. He said he was worried about you and he doesn't even know the amount of hours you've actually been working."

"I do have projects-."

"I've let you do this for three weeks, Cas. Enough. You don't eat, you don't sleep, you fucking live here. Stop. We're done doing this."

"Don't be melodramatic," Castiel said, squinting at his computer screen as his head ached.

"This was not your fault," Dean said loudly.

Castiel frowned and looked away from his computer screen. Dean came a few steps closer with his shoulders rigid. He looked furious. Part of Castiel wanted to care. It wanted to care that Dean was angry, but he couldn't. It was the same feeling that kept him from caring when Dean asked him to come home early for the last week since he came home from his mother's. The same that passed off offers of food, and brushed off Dean's affections aside from the few times they'd had sex in the extreme hours of morning when he let Dean pull him into bed.

"It sucks. I know it fucking sucks. Then if that's not bad enough, I'm having to watch you run yourself into the ground. We will have a kid. We can try as soon as you're ready, but I can't sit here and watch this."

"Then don't. No one said you had to."

He waited after he'd said it. He realized that they could be ending words and some part of him wanted that very much, for this to be over, and to be allowed to do his work. He expected pain or hurt from Dean, but all he saw was more anger. Then he was around the desk, pulling Castiel up by his tie and jacket. When he was on his feet, Dean's face inches from his own.

"This is bullshit, Cas," Dean yelled in a deep graveled voice. "You can't bury yourself here. You can't make me go away. I won't leave."

The words didn't mean much to Castiel. The tone didn't. The anger. What did hurt him was the pain in Dean's eyes. It felt strange to hurt. He tried to physically pull from Dean, but Dean tightened his hold in his clothing.

"We can try again, Cas," Dean said. "And if you don't want to then we won't, whatever you want, but you've got to stop doing this."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Don't you lie to me. You have to try to pull your shit together. More than this. Work with me."

Castiel stared at Dean. It felt like he were seeing him for the first time in weeks. He heard the break in Dean's voice and some part of him broke from his own chest. The throbbing, fragile, bloody omega that he was. The part of himself that had allowed itself to hurt over what he'd lost and what he was no good for, the part he had hidden away so he would not feel it. He tried to force it back, but Dean's eyes were only growing wetter.

"I didn't want children."

"I know," Dean said more gently, but his face was still hard.

"You don't," Castiel said, forcing his voice to be even.

"Cas, I do. I wanted it too."

"I know you did," Castiel said angrily as his eyes burned. "But I wasn't allowed to keep it, because of what I'd done."

Dean tightened his hand in Castiel's collar.

"This wasn't your fault."

"My body was poisoned, because of me."

The volume of his voice surprised him and it seemed to surprise Dean too, but his grip didn't slack. The fractures in Castiel's chest opened and leaked the pain he had convinced himself wasn't there. While it hurt, there was the smallest tinge of relief.

Dean yanked him close, wrapping him up tightly. When Castiel couldn't get away, he clutched the softness of Dean's t-shirt and breathed against it. He tried to keep the tears from working themselves from his chest, but having Dean near wasn't helping.

"I'm so sorry, Dean."

"It wasn't your fault," Dean said roughly against his ear. "You've got to stop."

A hard sob wrenched through his chest as he clutched Dean's shirt harder.

"It's okay to hurt, but you've got to let yourself do it, sweetheart."

Castiel clenched his teeth as hot tears stung his eyes and he tried to keep them back while his body shook. It had been easier to cry when he was in the bathtub, and the loss was happening. Now it had hardened and it felt like passing stones from his chest. The sound of it embarrassed him under the misery, but Dean only held him harder.

"Go on. I've got ya," Dean said, holding him soft and hard at the same time.

Castiel sobbed hard against Dean's shoulder for his guilt, the house they didn't buy, the decorations he hadn't bought, the few names for both genders that still played through his mind, for the baby he wished more than anything were still swelling his stomach. All the while, Dean held him through it.