A/N: Wow! 14,500 hits, 38 reviews, 95 follows. Looks like we are trying to achieve some kind of milestones here, so keep 'em coming. And thanks!

Also, your reviews are greatly appreciated, mostly because not only they tell me what you think about the chapter, but also which direction to take.

Part 10.B

It's a dream, Dean told himself the moment his thoughts aligned themselves in proper order. A weird, horrible dream of Scrooge-sque proportions about what NOT to do on this trip. It's just a dream.

But when he woke up semi-hungover, sore and alone, in his own childhood bedroom, he knew he had fucked everything up for the second time in his life. The first time he had lost Gabe, now… Cas.

He rolled onto his stomach, buried his head in the pillow and let the blackness take over.

-x-x-x-

A sharp of burst of the doorbell brought Dean back into the world of the living. He reached out to flip on the night-lamp beside the bed and blinked his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. The radio-alarm beside the lamp flashed 7.17 PM. He sat up and cradled his head. Oh God, kill me….

The doorbell rang again and Dean looked up confused. Then, as the realisation dawned over him, he reached for his wheelchair. The events of last night made the transition from the bed to the wheelchair a chore, but the pain seemed well-deserved. Another burst, then someone turned a key in the lock.

Cas! Oh thank God! Dean hastily wheeled himself out and stopped short when he came face to face with Jo.

"Jo? What are you do—" the rest of the sentence was cut off by the hard right hook that landed square on his nose.

W'a de— Dean reeled back, blood gushing out as the pain exploded in his brain. Then, 'D'ank God, he's okay'. Because if Jo was here, beating the crap outta him, then she knew what had happened. Which meant she had seen Cas, which most probably, and hopefully, meant Cas was still at the Roadhouse because there was no way Ellen was letting him leave looking like that.

"W'at aa you doin' 'ere?"

"Your dinner," Jo replied gruffly. "Mom sent it over. And…" she pulled out an orange plastic container with yellow flip-cap from her pocket, "painkillers."

Dean looked up surprised. "I a'eady 'ave painkille's."

"These are better. Apparently the old ones were wreaking havoc on your sleep patterns," Jo explained, handing him a wet napkin.

Dean hoped it was Cas' tutored speech. He gratefully took the proffered napkin and pressed it to his nose. "D'anks," he smiled. "Also, there will be no booze in the house till you get better." That he knew was Cas' tutored speech. "Okay," he shrugged and went inside to freshen up.

"Is ee okay?" he asked coming back out. He hadn't heard Jo leave, so he assumed she was still there.

"He's not spoken a word since he came in early morning," Jo replied, she was sitting at the dinner table fingering the mouth of the beer she had helped herself to. Everything else – the six pack in the fridge, along with two bottles of Johnny Walker and some the expensive port they had received as a part of wedding gifts – was neatly stacked in front of her. "He just moves around like a robot in trance and keeps staring into distance. It's quite freaky."

Dean nodded, "Thanks for putting him up" and got a glare in return, followed by "He's family."

"Sorry," Dean murmured, going to the fridge and taking out his dinner. "What's this?" he asked wrinkling his nose.

"Food," Jo replied roughly, then abruptly, "Why'd you do it?"

Dean looked at her confused, but she only stared at him. "I…" Dean stammered. How could he explain why the last 6 days had occurred? "I… don't know," he finally said, looking anywhere but at the girl. "I really don't know what happened, Jo."

Jo nodded. "I should be going," she said, standing up and carefully picking the alcohol. "And you are banned from the Roadhouse till mom says otherwise."

With that she turned around and walked out the same door Dean had seen his life walk out of.

-x-x-x-

He looked as bad as he thought he would, Dean thought sitting in front of the large mirror in his bathroom.

The last time he had looked like this was after that fight with Virgil, a few months after he had returned. Everyone had been scared of him and his ability to fight, which is why he had kept it a secret for so long. If the pitiful looks people gave him were bad enough, the averted eyes and looks of downright fear, when they saw this side of him, were worse. He lost himself when he fought… every opponent became Alistair, every victim Gabriel. That's why he never told Cas about the training. He didn't want Cas to see this side of him.

It's a little too late for that, a voice in his head commented sarcastically. It sounded like horribly like Gabriel, so Dean told him… it… to shut up. He wondered how he would explain anything when he showed up at work tomorrow. He briefly wondered if Cas would be there.

He filled the tub and entered the welcome warmth. He closed his eyes and sank down till his nose was just under the surface. He hoped the pain would go away.

Balthazar called the next evening after he returned from the garage.

He had gotten strange looks from everyone when he showed up at work almost a week before he was due, but at least they had left him alone. Bobby had just shaken his head and muttered, "idjit" and there was no sign of Cas. Not that it had surprised him.

"Hey Balth," Dean said as cheerfully as he could, cradling the phone between his head and shoulder, struggling to wriggle out of his jeans. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Good," Balthazar replied. "How's Jimmy? I wasn't able to reach his cell."

"Oh... he's good too," Dean heaved a sigh of relief. If Cas hadn't told Balthazar about the fight there was at least some chance for them. "Listen… he's in the shower right now. Should I tell him to call you when he gets out?"

"Don't bother," Balthazar sighed, his voice a little heavy.

"Okay," Dean replied. "Should I tell him to…?"

"Like I said," Balthazar sounded a little angry. "Don't bother. I already talked to him. At the Roadhouse."

"Balthazar," the defeat was prominent in Dean's voice. "Listen, I…"

"It's okay, Dean," Balthazar cut him off once more. "I was expecting something of the sort when Jimmy told me about you. Just not this soon."

"What do you mean you were expecting it?" Dean scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, and slight anger, the task at hand forgotten.

"Oh… please. I know Jimmy more than you do. I raised that git," Balthazar sighed. "He tends to get a little… enthusiastic. And when he told me, about you…" Dean sucked in a breath. "Let's just say, when he started gushing about how independent you were and how good you coped… I knew it would be ending. Badly."

"Then why didn't you try talking him out of it," Dean snapped.

"What makes you think I didn't?"

"What?!"

"You really think I would let him go through the biggest mistake of his life without tryin' to talk some sense into him. But he just wouldn't listen… you know how he gets when he has his sights set on something."

"Yeah, I do," Dean breathed, still trying to process the conversation. "Then why are you calling me now?"

"Because he wants to come home, you twat!" Balthazar yelled.

Dean stopped breathing. "He… he what…?" he gulped.

"He called a few minutes ago. Said I was right and that he wants to come back… Home," he finished lamely as the line abruptly went dead.

-x-x-x-

Dean had never driven as fast as he was doing right now. He was pretty sure the stupid van would spontaneously combust by the time he reached the Roadhouse.

You can't leave me, he thought. You just can't. Walk out, hit me… anything... just don't leave. Please. I can't lose you. Not again.

Ellen was the first one to spot him. She hurried over to him, anger brimming out of every pore. She loved Dean like a son. But that didn't mean she could forgive him so easily.

"What are you doing here, Dean?" she asked as harshly as she could. Jesus! The boy's face looked like a road map. Jo had said it was bad, but this…

"Where's Cas?" Dean asked urgent, wild-eyed.

"Cas? He's not here," Ellen stated. "And I'm not—" she stopped at the look that crossed Dean's face. He looked about to cry, sitting deflated in that chair, looking so lost… even she couldn't keep her anger.

"He's at Ash's," she replied. She was a mother, after all. And loved all her kids, even stubborn dicks like Dean Winchester.

Dean exhaled. Ash's… not Canada. He smiled gratefully and turned around, ignoring Ellen calling out behind him. The drive to Carmen's house was a little slower, relaxed. He even breathed on the way.

He wheeled up to the house and rang the doorbell. Carmen answered.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, keeping her voice low so as to not disturb the baby sleeping upstairs.

"I wanna talk to Cas," Dean whispered.

"What makes you think you deserve it?" she asked, walking out and closing the door behind her.

"Carmen, please. Do you know he's going to—"

"Canada, yes," Carmen nodded. Dean looked at her. "I told him to make the call."

"You what!?" Dean exclaimed loudly. They heard little Elliot start crying, then Cas' soft voice soothing her back to sleep. "Why?" he whispered.

"Because I don't want the poor bastard to go through the same motions I did," Carmen stated angrily.

"What are you talking about? We never fought like this."

"Yes, that's because you didn't think I was important enough to warrant this sort of behaviour," she retorted. "But that's water under the bridge. The point is… you are not capable of having a proper grown-up relationship with anyone."

"That's not true," Dean protested, even though a part of mind agreed.

"Oh… please," Carmen seemed to have heard that part. "The only person you've ever had a decent relationship of any kind was Gabe."

"Me and Gabe, we weren't…"

"Oh God, shut up. Stop talking," Carmen yelled as softly as she could. "Listen to someone for a change. I know you and Gabe never fucked each other…" Dean kept quite at that. "…but that didn't mean that you two weren't fucking co-dependent on each other like two emotionally stunted Oompa Loompas. And the way you two lived in that cocoon of yours…" Carmen trailed off, and took a deep breath. "I know you are not a bad person, Dean. But you are too invested in your past… in Gabriel. And Cas has no chance of competing with that. No one does."

"Are you saying I should just forget about him?" Dean asked incredulously.

"I'm not saying anything," Carmen replied. "Except that you need to get your priorities straight. You can't go around distancing everyone because you're trying to hold onto your past. It doesn't work that way. You have to let go. And until that happens… I won't let you treat Cas like a doormat with the added blessing of physical abuse. He's better off with his brother."

"You can't decide that for him," Dean protested lamely, knowing he had already lost.

"I can and I did. And he agrees with me," Carmen declared with a firm finality. "Now, if you'll just leave. I have a little girl to feed." With that she went back inside and slammed the door in his face.

Dean stared the door for a minute, then turned around and wheeled towards his car. He looked up at the nursery window and saw his blue-eyed Angel looking down at him, a stoic, undecipherable expression on his face. They maintained eye contact until Cas turned around and disappeared inside.

A/N 2: I know it seems a bit abrupt, but it was going to be longer chapter... only the later tone started turning "moral-y and preachy" and took me places I had no intention of going. So, I chucked the whole thing and started afresh. Then Lucifer retired for the day.

And in case you are wondering - because it's totally irrelevant - Virgil is Lilith's brother. There was a whole back-story of how Dean finds him molesting a girl outside the Roadhouse, just after he returns, and beats the shit out of him and sends him to the hospital. But it seemed unnecessary and couldn't fit anywhere, so I let it be. But I couldn't get it out of my head.