A/N: Because the other shoe always drops… whether we like it or not. (a.k.a. Time to raise the stakes and introduce some new perspectives)

P.S The therapy Cas uses on Dean is partly based on the stuff I found off the Internet and partly on personal experiences of someone I know (They were kind enough to allow me to use it). It involves a no. of steps like personal sessions (self acceptance, "it wasn't my fault"), family and couple counseling (sharing the experience, trust issues), group therapy etc. It took my friend about 5 years to get intimate again, but I figured Dean would be much more impatient. Not to mention, he and Cas have already pretty much covered all the other bases. Book Titles are real, tho'.

Part 5.2

A young man squinted at the white suburban two-story apartment house and swiped a hand across his face, pushing his floppy, dirty blonde hair out of his eyes. He took a deep breath and walked up the driveway, the mailbox identifying the place as belonging to the "Winchesters". He walked up to the front porch, reached behind the third potted plant on the left side for the spare key, unlocked the door and let himself in.

He walked directly to the fridge, it had a note taped to it. He ignored the note, took a bottle of water and gulped it down in one go. He refilled the bottle with tap, replaced it, then took out another one and took his time drinking it. Then, he reached for the note. "We're at work. Food's in the fridge. EAT! P.S. You're picking Dee up at 3.30."

He checked his watch, 12.00 PM. He scoffed a laugh, set the alarm for 3, crumpled the note and threw it in the bin. He trudged up the stairs towards the guest bedroom, toed off his shoes and fell on the bed. One minute later, he was asleep.

-x-x-x-

Claire was going through Sam's appointments for the week when the phone on her desk rang. She looked up to see her boss at the end of the line, a gruff expression on his face, going through the file she had placed on his desk 10 minutes ago. Confused, she picked up the phone.

"Hey, you doing anything tonight?" Sam asked not looking up.

Claire took a deep breath. She had been dreading this conversation since the minute she stepped into the office and Sam Winchester sized her up with a placid smile, saying, "I'm sure we'll get along nicely." She shook her head, then realized he was still waiting. "No," she replied forcing her voice to stay even.

"Can you come to my house at…" he checked the personal appointments log on his desk "6.30 PM? We're having a small dinner…"

"Yes," Claire replied quickly, hoping her voice didn't betray her fear. Her last boss had overworked her to death when she had said 'no' and she been forced to quit, the one before that had tried to corner her in the parking lot and fired her when she called for help. She couldn't afford to lose the job anymore, especially since she didn't really have any blazing recommendations and the job market was very unkind at the moment. She looked up to see Sam smiling at her, smiling fondly as if all was right in the world.

"Excellent. Dress casually," he replied and replaced the receiver and turned back to the file in front of him.

She forced herself to smile back, as she replaced the receiver with shaky hands.

-x-x-x-

Dean replaced the book and sighed. "The Survivor's Guide to Sex: How to Have an Empowered Sex Life After Sexual Abuse" was not what he should be reading on his anniversary. He had no idea why he was reading it in the first place. Well, apart from the fact that that he was fucking bored. There was nothing to do – Cas was a control freak with OCD – nothing on TV – there's only so many times you can watch Dr. Sexy have crazy elevator sex with anything in skirts – and Cas was off at work. Before Cas, he had spent his off days, too, at the garage, but now Cas made him stay home and relax. Well, he didn't relax. So Cas could suck it. He turned around. Maybe he would just start reading Jailbird again. Anything was better than the stash of psychobabble crap Cas kept in their old room.

After that episode, that night, Cas had tried to talk him about visiting a therapist. But Dean Winchester didn't do "therapist". They made you talk about feelings, and Dean told him exactly what he felt. For once, Cas didn't press the issue, but Dean knew they weren't done yet. Sure enough, a few days later, the courier guy turned up with a bunch of books Cas had ordered off the internet – "A Rape Survivors Guide To Relearning Intimate Touch", "Rape Recovery Handbook" etc… etc. He explicitly told Dean that whether he liked it or not, Dean was doing his therapy and if he didn't want to visit a therapist, Cas was going to talk to him. Well, just his luck the guy he was dating would turn out to be Sigmund Freud.

The process was hard. No, literally, because it meant lying almost naked near each other and feeling each other's bodies, just getting used to being so close to each other. Cas wanted Dean to get used to trusting him with his body. Dean claimed Cas was just being a tease. "Yeah, well, you have no other choice. So suck it up," Cas snapped gently pawing him.

Cas was worse than Lisa Braeden and Lisa had been a therapist from Hell. When Cas wondered how the heck Lisa had managed to get him to do anything, he snapped "She flashed me," hoping Cas would take the hint and leave him alone.

"I'll let you have sex with me," Cas deadpanned. Dean couldn't help but laugh and let Cas do whatever it was he was doing. It was freaking hot and freaking weird at the same time.

The first time, they had done this Dean had been tense as fuck. He knew it was Cas, and Cas would never hurt him, but he couldn't help going back to the rack. He had scrunched his eyes tightly, counted backwards from 100, sang "Hey Jude" to himself. Of course, Saint Castiel of Sioux Falls, South Dakota, had been a grounding presence. "I'm here, Dean. I'm here. Look at me. I'm not going to hurt you. I got you… I love you." When that didn't work, the guy sang Enter Sandman, and they just spooned for the rest of the night. By their 10th session, Dean was proud to say he was comfortable to let Cas grope him and grope him back. By their 16th session, he was cool with sleeping naked together. And finally, tonight, their 20th session, they were planning to have sex. Dean was pretty excited. It was kinda like losing his virginity all over again, only this time he would be sober and in love the person. He wondered if it was pathetic that he was being a little Twilight about it.

It wasn't like all the days were good. He still had nightmares because, as Castiel Freud claimed, "20 months of Hell, and 4 years of repression, isn't going to go away in one day, it takes time." When he bitched – he wasn't exactly proud of it, but Cas looked so adorable trying to discipline him, in a totally hot teacher kinda way, that he just couldn't resist – Cas had snapped, "You're a pain in my ass."

"I thought that's the plan, sweetheart," he'd commented, oh so sweetly. And god, could the guy blush! His entire body, which was horribly pale, had turned pink, right from the toes to the tips of ears. That night, Dean slept with a smile on his face.

But he hadn't had a nightmare for almost a week now and Cas was very proud of both of them. They had celebrated by finally getting around to watching Brave. This whole therapy session was probably the most intimate thing anyone had ever done. And it was going so good he never wanted it to end. Cas had once said that he had no intention of leaving. And Dean was going to make sure he would never have a reason to. He was planning to seal the deal tonight.

Now, there was only one hurdle he had yet to cross. It wasn't really a hurdle as much as a valley of hot smoldering lava. Adam. Dean wasn't sure how Adam would take to him dating someone. And he hadn't told Cas about him, because that would mean explaining who he was, and the truth about his parents, and Dean wasn't sure if he was ready to do that just yet. He figured he would have to tell Cas someday, preferably tonight before he proposed, that he also had a kid.

-x-x-x-

At exactly 3.00 PM, Dr. Adam Milligan, "Winchester to family and friends", shot off the bed to the insistent sound of his alarm. At 3.01, he was standing in the shower, the spray turned to the coldest. Standing before the mirror, he decided to forgo shaving, then decided against it. He didn't want to scare Dee with his "homeless guy" appearance. He shaved quickly, leaving a slight stubble, because completely shaven he still looked 17. He stripped off his dirty clothes and changed into the clean ones. At exactly 3.18, he was out the door.

He reached Dee's school with barely a minute to spare. The bell rang just as he pulled in the parking lot. As the kids started piling out, he looked over the sea of toddlers for the familiar mop of blond hair, a teddy bear clutched under her arm. He found what he was looking for, but curiously she was holding two teddies, a smaller beige coloured nestling in Uncle Dean's arms. Strange.

"Cookiemonster!" he shouted as Dee got closer. She immediately perked up and launched herself in his direction, with the determination of a Winchester and a distinct "nom nom" sound. He ignored the few curious glances shot his way, bending down and swiping her off the ground before she could attach herself to his leg. He had it on a very good, and a very uncomfortable, authority that it was difficult to detach her once she stuck herself to you. She was kinda like dad that way.

"Uncle Adam," the girl whispered circling her arms around his neck, the teddy bears squashing his pulse point.

It amazed him how she managed to carry out all her daily activities without relinquishing the hold over her precious Uncle Dean. "Hey kiddo," he muttered, raking a hand through her hair as she sighed contently at his neck, tightening the hold. "I missed you too."

"Do you have my cookies?" she asked instead.

He smiled. The kid was as bad with feelings talk as dad. He plopped her down in the passenger seat and buckled her in, before reaching into the glove compartment and taking out a packet of chocochip cookies, he kept around. "Only two," he said handing them to her and sticking one in his mouth, "Or your mom will kill me." Dee chuckled at that.

"So… who's your new friend?" he asked her halfway to the house."Uncle Cas," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Uncle Cas?" he wondered. They didn't know anyone named Cas. He looked at her and she was looking back at him in the typical "God, adults are so stupid. Why am I the only one who knows things" look he had seen on the kids her age.

"Uncle Cas," she replied slowly, sympathizing with him for being so dumb. "Uncle Dean's new friend," she added helpfully when he remained as clueless as ever.

"Uncle Dean's…?" Dad's new friend? He thought confused. Oh… as the sudden realization came to him. Dad's dating someone!?

He pulled up in front of the house, just as he saw Jess' car turn in the driveway. He unbuckled Dee and sent her running towards the house, and hurried to help his sister carry the groceries in. He placed the groceries on the counter and turned to Jessica. "Dad's dating someone?" he asked, his voice barely masking the betrayal.

"Hey, Adam. I hope you had a nice journey. I did, Jessica. How are you? I am fine, Adam. Thanks for asking," Jessica mimicked sarcastically.

Adam dismissed the sarcasm with a wave and settled on the bar stool just as Dee sneaked up and grabbed hold of his leg, squatting beside it. Now his right leg was sandwiched between Dee and her teddies, in a vice grip. He sighed and looked at his sister who was smiling fondly at the spectacle.

"How long has dad been dating this Cas guy?" he asked again. "And what do you know about him?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Jessica replied instead. She had learnt a long time ago that it was better to stay away from Adam and his daddy issues. She bent down and pried her daughter's fingers from Adam's leg, picked her up and went upstairs.

Adam took a deep breath and dialed.

-x-x-x-

The phone rang just as Dean finished rinsing his plate. He had been too engrossed in his book, but Cas would be home in about 2 hours and he would want to know why Dean hadn't eaten his lunch. So he had reluctantly put the book down and ate the "healthy" – "Healthy, my ass. It's rabbit food" – food that Cas forced him to eat as a part of his therapy. Now instead of pokers and brands, Alistair ambushed him with lettuce and French beans.

He picked the phone without bothering to check the caller id. "Hey Sa—" he started but was cut off with "Say Sammy. I dare you to say Sammy."

"Hey Adam," he corrected himself.

"Oh, so you do remember who I am," Adam replied sarcastically.

"Adam, what's wrong?" he asked patiently. Adam was quite volatile, especially as far as Dean was concerned.

"What's wrong? What's—" Adam scoffed. "Who's this Cas guy? How long have you known him? What does he do? Where does he stay? Does he have a criminal record? Family members? Known associates? Contagious diseases? Do I need to run a full background check on this guy?" Dean was bombarded with a volley of questions.

He sighed, wondering if he would have to strangle Sam or Jess. "Okay," he replied. "His name is Castiel. Short for James Castiel Novak. He is an ex-Marine and was a part of the team that rescued me. Or rather he was the guy who pulled me out."

"Oh," Adam murmured and Dean could feel his anger coming down, so he continued, "We have been together for a month. Actually, today is our anniversary. He has no family, he works at Bobby's and lives with me and, as far as I know, has no criminal record or serious diseases. Also I don't think you need to run a background check on this guy. I know pretty much everything about him. Oh… you might remember him as the hobo who gave you that pendent."

"Hobo?" Adam asked disbelievingly. "You are dating the hobo from the hospital? What is he, a stalker or something?" The anger was back in his voice. He had seen the hobo with freakish blue eyes loitering around the hospital quite few times. He hadn't told anyone about it because Sam was always on edge and well… he couldn't risk sending dad into another panic attack.

Then one day, the hobo had approached him, handed him a small packet saying "it will help him" and went away. He never saw the guy after that. He had contemplated for days whether he should give it to dad or not. He even sent it to a crime lab for checking. It was clean… just some amulet of a saint. St. Genesius, Patron Saint of Torture Victims, the report had said. So, he had finally, reluctantly, and against his better judgement passed it on. But if this guy thought he could hurt dad after all these years, he had another thing coming.

"Adam! Relax!" Dean raised his voice. "Breathe… It was purely accidental. He was in town looking for work and we ran into each other..."

Adam huffed. Dad wasn't thinking straight. The guy was very good looking, even he had to admit that, but clearly, he had an agenda. Not everyone was dad. Not everyone really cared about another person without wanting something in return. What was that guy aiming for? He took a deep breath. He couldn't talk sense into dad, but he damn well could talk to that guy. Find out what his end game was and tell him to fuck off. He wasn't gonna let some cheap piece of ass hurt his dad. "Okay," he finally replied. "I wanna talk to this guy."

"Adam," Dean's voice was hard. "I know what you're trying to do, and I suggest you don't. I really like him and I'm planning to propose…"

"Propose?" Adam interjected. This was more serious than he thought.

Dean flushed. "Uh… yeah… kinda…" but Adam interrupted "I'll just introduce myself, welcome him to the family. Really. No shenanigans, I swear." Dean heaved a sigh of relief. He knew Adam wouldn't trust Cas, but he sounded sincere enough. "Call the garage. Ask for Castiel. And no threats."

"No threats," Adam replied disconnecting the call. His dad was an excellent judge of character and if he said the guy was cool, then he must be. But then, what if he was just stringing dad along? And dad was actually falling for it? He just didn't want dad to get hurt.

-x-x-x-

Castiel banged down the hood of the truck he was working on just as the phone rang. He looked around. Bobby was busy with a customer, so he took the call. "Singer's Garage and Salvage Yard," he replied.

"I'm looking for Castiel," a male voice said. Cas stiffened. No one except Dean called him at the garage and this was not Dean.

"I'm Castiel, who're you?"

The guy on the other took a deep breath. "My name is Adam. Adam Winchester. You might remember me as the guy you gave that pendent to, at Dean's hospital. And it has come to my attention that you're dating my dad."

"There must be some mistake," Cas replied seriously confused. The guy at the hospital had to be about 18. That made him somewhere around 23-24. So unless Dean was out impregnating girls at 10, there was no way this guy was Dean's son. "Dean is barely 34…"

"Yeah, I know how old my dad is, thank you very much," Adam snapped. "I promised him I wasn't gonna say anything. But I want to know what are you looking for?"

"What I— What are you talking about?" Cas asked.

"Look," Adam replied, his voice extremely even and curt. "I don't know you, but whatever it is you think you're gonna get by stringing him along, you're wrong."

"Wait!" Cas sat down, realizing what the other guy was trying to say. "Are you implying that I'm expecting some kind of pay off?" he asked.

"Well… aren't you? Or else why would someone like you," Cas could hear contempt in the voice, "get attached to an invalid like Dean. If you think some sweet talk and pity fucking is gonna get you…"

"Look. Adam." Cas cut in, his anger rising. He could handle people calling him names, but no one insulted his Major... no one. Not in front of him. "First… I'll be dammed if I pity the guy who's fucking me. Second… Dean is not an invalid… or a cripple… or whatever it is you cunts call him behind his back. Dean Winchester is more of a man than you'll ever be, so don't you fucking dare call him that ever again. You hear me, you little piece of shit." Adam fell silent, taken aback. No one had ever jumped this quickly or this ferociously to his dad's defence before.

Someone knocked at the office door and Cas looked up to see Bobby standing there, a concerned look on his face. Behind him, Max looked ready to burst into tears – raised voices really scared him. Cas shook his head. Thankfully, Bobby just nodded and closed the door behind him. Cas raked a hand through his hair and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. The last thing he needed right now was Max breaking down and having to do damage control.

"And as far as the house and the job are concerned," Cas continued when there was no interruption from the other side "your dad knows about all about it and he offered to let me stay because I was a friend, not because he wanted to get into my pants. You should know better than to say that. Hell, I didn't even know he was gay until after I started living with him. And that was only because Sam told me."

Adam exhaled at the other end, still quiet. Cas took it as an indication that he was to keep talking. "Look, I know you don't trust me, anymore than I trust you. But I'd like it if we got to know each other."

"So… so you know about…" When Adam finally spoke, it was so soft that Cas actually had to strain to hear the words. "Nightmares?" he finished the sentence. Adam nodded, until he realized the guy couldn't see him. "Yeah," he whispered.

"Well, it's kinda hard not to when you are living in the same house," Cas replied softly. "But I thought he hadn't told anyone about them."

"He hasn't. I mean… not recently," Adam replied. "We all know about them from before. But I'm a doctor. Trauma Surgeon at Stanford Med. We get lots of PTSD cases… Besides he believes in drowning his pain in whiskey… it can't have done wonders for him. But maybe you can do something to help him…" he added.

Cas could hear the desperation in his voice. He knew what it felt like when someone you cared about was hurting that bad and you couldn't do anything about it. "Look Adam," he said as gently as he could. "I'm trying. And it's working… somewhat. He's having less nightmares now," he replied, hoping maybe it would get the boy to start accepting him. "But it's gonna take time. The therapy…"

"Therapy?" the boy sat up at the word. "He's undergoing therapy?" he asked. Dad didn't do "therapy". They made you talk about feelings…

"It's not like he has much choice," Cas replied, smiling. "Just like he has no choice about eating his veggies," he shared conspiratorially.

Adam laughed at that. The image of dad and veggies was too much for him. He was worse than Dee when it came to eating "rabbit food". And if this guy could make him to do that… dad was totally and completely whupped. He wasn't even gonna think about breaking them up.

"Hey Cas," he finally said. "Tell dad, you have my approval. And he can tell you about me," he smiled. "Oh… and Happy Anniversary. I'll see you, Cas."

Just like that, the call disconnected and Cas was left wondering about the most bizarre conversation of his life.