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"You okay, man?"

Dean's hands clench around the steering wheel when Sam shatters the silence that's been hovering between them since they left the crypt. Quickly recovering from his surprise, he pastes a cocky grin onto his face.

"Sure!" Dean says cheerily. "Why the hell wouldn't I be?"

"Y'know…'cause Cas kinda got a bit rough with you." Sam's voice is careful, as though he's walking on eggshells. Dean loves it when he can make Sam wary like this; it doesn't hurt for the little bitch to remember his place as the little brother.

"Yeah, and?"

Sam pauses for a moment.

"And I just wanna make sure you're okay after that."

"So, what, you want me talk about my feelings?" Dean snorts. The day Sam successfully gets him to open up about his feelings is the day he grows lady parts and calls himself Deanna.

"I just don't want you to suffer in silence like you always do."

Dean rolls his eyes so hard that he swears he sees stars.

"Aww, look at you!" he teases. "Little baby brother thinks he's a shrink."

"You're an asshole," Sam snaps, though with no real heat behind his words. "Dean, I know something big went down in that crypt. You and Cas…you were staring at each other but that time, it was different. What happened?"

"Oh, the usual," Dean says airily. "We find the powerful artefact we're after, Cas turns out to've been angel Imperiused the whole time and I get a crash course in telling the difference between my radius and ulna. There's no difference, by the way. I don't care what your nerd books tell you."

"What? Back up – Cas was being controlled?"

Dean gives a twisted smile and fills Sam in on everything: from Naomi pulling Castiel out of Purgatory, to training the angel to kill him through thousands of copies, and then to Castiel being controlled in the crypt. He's not sure just why he's spilling to Sam but he figures as long as he keeps feelings out of it, he's all good.

"Poor Cas," Sam says in quiet shock once Dean's finished telling his story. "I can't believe we didn't notice. He was spacing out and acting weird for months!"

Dean sets his jaw to try and fight the rush of guilt that floods through him. He's been worried about Castiel for ages, yet not once did he even try and get the angel to open up. He knows that's all on him and his damn allergy to talking about anything that even resembles emotions, but surely he could've spared at least two minutes to ask Castiel if everything was okay! But now Alfie's dead for no reason and Castiel's head is fucked up –

"It's not your fault, Dean," Sam says, interrupting Dean's inner self-hatred fest. "It's not like you could've told that Cas –"

"But I damn well should've!" Dean snarls. "I knew there was something fishy about how he got out! I knew he wasn't all there! If I'd freaking told him before –"

Realising that he's straying into the realm of 'feelings', Dean's mouth snaps shut. Sam frowns at him curiously.

"Dean? If you'd told him what before?"

"Nothing."

"Dean –"

"Nothing, Sam! Now, if you're done with your little tea party?"

Without waiting for an answer, Dean reaches out and switches his music on. The sweet sounds of AC/DC drown out Sam's attempts at having a heartfelt share-fest and eventually, to Dean's relief, the little bitch gives up and slumps against his seat with a small grimace. Dean takes note of this, swearing to himself to talk to Sam later about what the first trial of Hell did to him.

They stop for crappy diner food about four hours into the drive, though neither of them particularly want to sit down and eat in with the bunker only being another four hours away. So they speed on, greasy food wrappers strewn between them and Dean showing off the skill he mastered years ago: eating a burger and fries without getting salt and oil on Baby's steering wheel. It isn't until they've finished their food and are letting it digest that Sam tries to have another conversation.

"So…Cas is gonna meet us there?" he says. Dean grunts. He's so not in the mood for another heart-to-heart.

"You were there. You heard him."

"Yeah, I know! I just mean…does he even know where the bunker is? It's warded against everything, Dean."

Dean mutters some choice words under his breath.

"Didn't even think of that."

Without even looking, he pulls his phone out and brings up Castiel's number, hoping that the damn guy answers his phone. He could just pray, but he kind of doesn't want every Tom, Dick and Harry angel out there to know where to find them – not to mention that at least with Castiel on the phone, he can be sure that the angel is listening to him.

"I don't understand," Castiel's voice says when the phone rings out. "Why do you want me to say my name?"

Despite his annoyance at his call ringing out, Dean can't help but snicker to himself as his stomach swoops. There's always just been something about Castiel and his innocence that gets under Dean's skin. What is it about Castiel? Why can he –

Right. Definitely not going there. Just because he told the guy he loved him doesn't mean that Dean's keen to go there again, especially with Sam around. To banish his dangerous thoughts, he presses 'call' again.

"Dean?" This time, Castiel does answer. "Is everything okay?"

"I should be asking you that." Dean pauses to swallow, coating his suddenly-dry throat with slick saliva. "How's everything hanging?"

"I don't think you have time for me to explain how physics operates on a cosmic level, Dean. Nor do I think that the subject of the four fundamental forces holds any sort of interest for you."

Dean can't hold back the snort that escapes from him. Sam looks at him curiously.

"No," Dean chuckles. "No, I meant…how's everything for you right now?"

"Oh." There's a pause. "It could be better. I suppose that I can't complain, seeing as I haven't been caught yet."

"Caught?" Dean's stomach swoops again, though in a far less pleasant way. "What the hell do you mean, caught? Is Crowley –"

"No. I have not seen Crowley. But the moment I departed from the crypt, Naomi sent a force of her angels to…subdue me."

"Shit! You alright, Cas?"

Dean's clenching the steering wheel again, mentally beating himself up. He should've insisted that Castiel stay with them! He shouldn't have let Castiel go off on his own just after breaking free of mind control! Of course Naomi was going to try and get Castiel back, especially when he has something as valuable as the angel tablet!

"I'm fine, Dean. I managed to escape and I have been successful at evading them thus far. All that matters is that I keep the angel tablet safe."

"And yourself! Jesus, Cas, you're more important than some piece of rock!"

"Nevertheless," Castiel continues, as though Dean hadn't said anything, "my goal is to keep the angel tablet from them. Dean, are you certain about the safety of this bunker?"

"Actually, that's why I'm calling. Remembered that you wouldn't be able to find it without us 'cause it's that well-warded."

"Good."

"Just come when I call, okay? We'll take you from there and they won't find you. Please, Cas. Don't leave us – me – hanging."

Castiel doesn't say anything for a moment.

"I promise that I'll be there. And Dean, I lo –"

"See you then! Bye!"

Dean quickly hangs up and throws his phone on the seat next to him. Sam shoots him a curious look.

"What the hell, Dean?"

"Nothing." Dean's heart is still hammering after Castiel's near confession. It's not that he doesn't want to hear it back – because dear God, he does. But he can't. In an ideal situation, he never would have confessed those feelings to Castiel. They would've continued on being chummy buddies. Feelings are dangerous for a hunter, especially one who's gotten himself tortured and killed as often as Dean has…not to mention everyone he so much as touches. He can't do that to Castiel. The dude's already died three times because of his association with Dean. And with the situation they're in now, if Dean allows himself to feel these feelings and then he gets fucked over…he can't let that happen. He just can't. Not with someone he feels more strongly about than anyone else he can think of. Not with someone he – he loves nearly as much as his own brother.

"Dean –"

"Sam." Dean's voice is low and sharp. "Drop. It."

Sam seems to pick up on the dark, threatening plea in Dean's voice because his mouth snaps shut and he looks away awkwardly.

"Want me to put some Led Zep on? Or maybe some Metallica?" he says after a tense moment. Dean grins at him.

"Metallica? Ah, I like how you think, little brother."

Despite the drive to Lebanon being another four hours, Dean makes it in three. He's spurred on by a combination of breaking every speed limit possible, exhausted longing for the magic of memory foam, a desire to sleep in a bed that's actually his, and his need to make sure that Castiel is as safe as can be. The longer he delays getting back to the bunker, the longer Castiel has to dodge the winged dicks out for his blood – and if Castiel gets his ass caught because Dean had decided to take things slow and careful, Dean knows he'll never be able to forgive himself.

Finally, at long last, they roll into Lebanon. Dean doesn't think he's ever been so happy to see a place in his whole life and he has to give himself a mental slap to avoid sagging in complacency. They're not out of the woods yet; not until they're safe at the bunker.

He punches Sam awake as they pull up outside a general store and Sam quickly shakes himself out of sleep, recognising the urgency of the situation. Now's when they call Castiel, and they have to get this right. As soon as Castiel appears, he's going to be followed by a bunch of assholes who are out for his blood; they've got to make sure that they get Castiel away from the angels or not only will the angel tablet be taken but Dean will lose his best friend. He's certain that Naomi will never let Castiel go once she's got him again – hell, she might even decide he's not worth the effort and just kill him once he's back in Heaven.

"You ready?" Dean says. Sam nods, every muscle in his body tense. Dean takes a deep breath, shoots a glance at the store sign – illuminated by dim street lamps – and then dials Castiel's number. Thankfully, Castiel answers.

"Dean –"

"Cas, we're at Ladow's Market in Lebanon, Kansas. Get your feathered ass here pronto."

Sam rolls his eyes as Dean hangs up but neither brother allows themselves to relax. They can't be sure that the other angels haven't picked up on the phone call – after all, Castiel had once said that even Dean's head isn't private – but that's a risk they'll have to take. It's more secure than a prayer, in any case.

They're startled two seconds later by the sudden appearance of Castiel outside the car, clutching the angel tablet tightly to his chest with a wild look in his eyes.

"C'mon, go, go!" Dean shouts at Castiel. The angel yanks the back door open and throws himself into the car and Dean doesn't even wait for him to close the door before he's pulling away from the kerb, tyres screeching. In his rear view mirror, he sees Castiel sag against the back of the seat in relief, his eyes closed.

"You okay, buddy?" Dean asks. Castiel nods, his eyes still closed, and this movement makes his dark, windswept hair spill over his forehead. Dean resolutely ignores the lurch in his belly.

"I – they were close," Castiel pants. "Very close. Dean, if you hadn't called when you did…"

Now Dean's proud of his choice to speed on to Lebanon and cut their time, rather than actually stick to such trivial things as speed limits.

"Well, they don't have you," he says firmly. "They won't get you, Cas. We're gonna be –"

He's prevented from finishing his sentence by a sudden flash of light in front of them and a high-pitched ringing. He slams on the brakes as the shrill noise reaches a crescendo and, too busy trying to protect his eyes and ears, he's unprepared for the painful force that wrenches his door open and drags him out of the car.