Stomping up the stairs to his and Sam's apartment, Dean was more than a little disgruntled. Castiel was confusing. And it didn't help that, whenever he tried to befriend the guy, he started talking like Sherlock Holmes. Cas was constantly…

He always sounded like…

He was Cas, Dean amended, as he found his keys and pushed the front door open, trying to push back the memory of the hockey game until he had the energy to really make sense of it.

When he stepped into his apartment, he saw a short guy with brown hair stumbling into a pair of shoes.

"Oh." Said Dean, mentally running through the catalogue of people who should be in his apartment and becoming slightly worried when he failed to find the face he was looking at.

"Oh." The guy agreed, looking just as awkward as Dean felt. Dean had a feeling he should probably try for words.

"Hi."

The guy gaped at him silently for a moment, before picking up on the idea of talking.

"Hi. I was told you were… elsewhere. It's Dean, right? Gabriel." So saying, the guy held out his hand. "I was… uh…"

"Here with Sam." Dean finished, his brain clicking back on track with a noticeable lurch. Gabriel was Sam's boyfriend. He was also Castiel's brother. This wasn't awkward at all. He gave the smaller man a once-over. Sam had said he was short, but Jesus… He might have to get Sam one of those shiatsu neck pillows for Christmas. Still, Gabriel looked good for thirty five, he supposed. Nothing like Castiel, though. Dean couldn't see what Sam saw in the guy. Speaking of, Dean thought:

"Where is he?"

"He's just… in the bathroom." Gabriel gestured vaguely, before looking like he hoped the ground would split open beneath his feet.

"Oh." Dean nodded, knowing exactly what the pregnant pause meant and really hoping he could get through the conversation without getting any gory details concerning this stranger and his brother at home alone. "So… I hear you're coming to Thanksgiving dinner with us."

"Yeah." Gabriel forced a smile. "From what Sam's told me, it should be fun."

Dean recalled the stories he had heard from Castiel, concerning exactly what Gabriel thought was 'fun'. He was a prankster, and he liked to mess with people, create scenes. Cas had hurried to amend that his brother was a nice man, but that didn't mean Dean was comfortable with him describing the people he loved as "fun." Gabriel seemed to pick up on this, and began backtracking with a glimmer of fear in his eyes.

"I mean, it'll be great to meet Sam's family at last. He's already met most of my important people, so… you know, seeing where he came from will, uh…"

"No." Dean shook his head, glaring at Gabriel. He was tired. He'd spent all day playing mind games with Cas, and now he was being told what Gabriel presumed he wanted to hear. He was so tired of constant bullshit that, with one final glance over Gabriel's worried features, his body language and the general air he conducted himself with, Dean let fly. "You don't want to do it. I can tell, you're not the kind of guy who does the whole family thing."

Gabriel was only taken aback for a moment, before dropping his pretence gladly. He looked at Dean as an equal.

"No. I'm like you that way, right? Enough troubles of my own, don't want to get muddled up in a whole new universe. More people, more problems, am I right? But Sam wants me to meet them, and I get that it's important to him. If it's important to him, it's important to me. That's where we stand."

Dean stared at him. What worried him most was that it connected with him so much. 'More people, more problems'… Was he really so straight forward? He smirked, reassuring Gabriel that his gamble paid off.

"That's where we stand."

The bathroom door unlocked with a clunk, cutting through Dean's thoughts, and revealing a towel, behind which stood a very naked Sam. Sam didn't see Dean straight away.

"Hey Gabe? I've got the afternoon free. Do you want to hang out some more? We could stick a DVD on and not watch it…" Then he spotted his brother. Then he made a hasty retreat. Gabriel was fighting back the urge to laugh, as was Dean.

Dean let the couple go about their business, which was mostly Sam chivvying Gabriel away before they could exchange any more awkward pleasantries. The apartment abandoned once more, Dean slumped back on the couch and covered his eyes. Sam seemed pretty set. Gabriel didn't seem that bad a guy… sure, if he ever hurt Sam, Dean would punch his nose right off his face. But Sam was big and ugly enough to take care of himself, Dean guessed.

Castiel's words still resounded in his skull.

"Your next step is facing yourself."

He didn't want to face himself. He wasn't even sure who he was. That was probably telling.

What was worse was that he wanted to talk to Cas about it, but he knew that, for whatever reason, Cas was getting tired of him. Probably getting tired of dumbing everything down for him, Dean thought. But… if there was one thing you should tell your shrink about, it's that you're starting to see yourself as a different person, right? Like, an alter-ego. That's something you should tell a shrink… hell, a friend. Cas was probably fed up of Dean, dumb little Dean, running around in circles. Muscle-head Dean the great lumbering ox, stomping into Castiel's executive office and bitching about his problems.

He couldn't talk to Cas. Not until he'd done something to make him proud, and Dean had a feeling that would never happen.

(-*-)

Castiel stared at his windswept surroundings. A forest stretched down the hill to his right. Ahead of him, and technically underneath him, steel-coloured waves crashed against the cliff face. The salty wind tore at his face, pulling at his scruffy mop of dark hair, washing away whatever confusion he'd had. He was at peace here. Alone.

"Castiel!" He could hear his cousin calling, running up to him. Balthazar was only a year or two older, but he was cooler, more mature. He drank and smoked and snuck out after curfew. Or so Gabriel said. But Gabriel lied. And Gabriel wasn't around any more.

"Cassie, get away from the edge." Balthazar had picked up on the nickname his mother gave him, and he didn't like it. "If you fall off that cliff, Aunt Eve is going to kill me."

"I won't fall." He muttered, his voice raw from underuse; the embarrassing mid-pubescent quake had left him of the opinion that he would just stay silent until he graduated high school.

"What are you doing out here? Mother set up a play-date for you with some of the local boys… Anna's friends, I think."

"I don't like Anna. I don't like England. I like being on my own. And right now, I don't like you, either, so please leave me alone."

Balthazar blinked, taken a little aback. He nodded, thoughtfully, before sitting down on the grass beside him and taking a packet of cigarettes from his pocket.

"Who do you like?"

Castiel said nothing, staring bluntly out at the horizon. Balthazar let the silence sit for a moment.

"Raphael?"

"Raphael's dead. Makes no difference."

"Gabriel?"

Castiel stayed silent.

Balthazar nodded.

"He's not gone forever. You can still call…"

"How do you know?" Castiel said, still scrutinising the horizon as though his answer might suddenly appear in a scrolling, heavenly banner.

"How do I know what?"

Castiel turned on his heel. Balthazar wasn't there any more. He was Martin Pickett now, a boy from Castiel's class in school. His hair was golden brown, his eyes were muddied hazel and his lips were a delicate pink as he clung to Castiel's shirt, locked in a clumsy, tipsy, frightened first kiss.

That was it. No going back.

Castiel woke, the image of the English cliff and the imagined taste of his first love still fresh in his mind. He was very glad he was not the sort of psychiatrist to put stock in dreams, because he knew for a fact that, in reality, Martin Picket's eyes, hair and lips had not looked as much like Dean Winchester's as his subconscious had suggested. In reality, Martin Pickett had been cursed with eyes like a swamp and hair like a used scrub brush. Dean, on the other hand…

No, Castiel commanded himself, as he pulled himself out of bed. No thinking about unfairly attractive patients who can't get a hold of themselves. His advice to Dean applied just as much to himself. You can't hope to know someone else before you know yourself. Castiel had to stop putting all his eggs into one metaphorical, dysfunctional and erratically responsive basket. Dean had not spoken to him for the better part of two weeks, and so was clearly moving on with his life. That was the end of it.

He switched on his phone to reveal a text from Dean. Practically able to hear his resolution scream as it withered and died, he opened the message. Castiel got the strange feeling that it may have been sent while somewhat inebriated.

"Casp u apqe a gpqeat guy butdo ou hmnnstly thimnk thepqapy can wopqk 4gme? I wamot to do it amnd I wamot tomake ou ppqoud."

Castiel stared at it for a moment, entertaining the idea that Dean may seriously be trying to confuse him on purpose. He stared at each word, trying to decode the typing errors. There was a frantic knocking at his door, and he answered it to reveal Gabriel looking suitably distressed.

"Castiel, I'm freaking out."

He shoved past his brother, and began pacing.

"Good morning."

"You're my sponsor. Sponsor me."

"I've just woken up, Gabriel. You'll need to be more specific."

"Thanksgiving! The big Thanksgiving dinner with Sam's family! I'm screwed. I'm going to mess up, I…"

"Gabriel." Castiel laid a heavy hand on his brother's shoulder, staring intently into his eyes. "You can do it. I would not have agreed to look after Murdock if you were less than capable of having a wonderful evening. You'll be fine."

"I'll be fine." Gabriel repeated, although he sounded doubtful. Castiel had a feeling distraction may have been a more useful tactic. "Can you decipher this message for me? I believe it was sent while drunk, and I know that you have more experience with such messages than I."

"Dork." Gabriel muttered, taking the phone from his brother and scrutinising the string of mistyped letters all the same. He scratched his cheek, thoughtfully. "Casp… Think that's meant to be Cas… who calls you Cas? Is this from Dean?" Gabriel gasped. "He has a pet name for you and everything! Have you nailed him yet?"

"Gabriel." Castiel tutted, professionally. Gabriel rolled his eyes and went back to the text.

"You are a… great guy, but do you… honestly think… Uh… oh, ok. 'Do you honestly think therapy can work for me? I want to do it and I want to make you proud'... Bless. Isn't he a big old closet case?"

"Gabriel, please stop being so utterly inappropriate."

"I didn't when the police asked me, what makes you think I'll listen to you… What's he talking about? Do what?"

"I don't know…" Castiel mused, putting aside the small dart of happiness that had raced through him when he'd heard the word 'proud'. "I would presume he means therapy."

"Maybe he's talking about coming out." Gabriel raised his eyebrows, chuckling. "He's clearing out his closet space for you."

"Get out of my house." Castiel commanded, before having his request thoroughly ignored and his breakfast ruined. It wasn't until an hour or so later, when Gabriel was halfway out the door, that Castiel's phone rang.

"Hello? Castiel DiAngelo's phone."

"Cas? Uh, hey."

"Dean." Castiel practically yelped, before shooing Gabriel out of the door. Gabriel had other plans, intent on overhearing the conversation. "What… what can I do for you?"

"I just… Did I drunk text you last night? I think I might have."

"Yes, I had… I had thought that was the… ow!" Castiel recoiled from his brother's pinching fingers, and gave up trying to force him out of the doorway.

"You alright?"

"Yes, just a… Small pain in my neck." Castiel spat, ignoring Gabriel's taunting pouts and mimes of kissing the air. "it is not important. What can I help you with?"

"I think I might need to see you." Dean started, his voice low and nervous. Castiel made frantic 'shh'ing motions at Gabriel, who stuck his tongue out and left. "Are you free… um… when are you free?"

"Whenever you need me, Dean. What is the problem?"

"My… my family's having a big Thanksgiving dinner next week. And… And I want to tell everyone. I want to… to say it."

Castiel felt his breath catch in his chest.

"Dean?"

"I want to tell everyone that… that I'm gay."