Chapter 4

That night – after they had spent a pretty quiet evening together, ordering pizza from a nearby place and watching TV – Dean had hoped that he might get to sleep a bit more than the night before. At least, he had fallen asleep instantly, and tried not to worry about Sam. They would call him. Cas had bid him good night and left for his own bedroom, and Dean was pretty sure he didn't even hear the click of his door falling shut.

Dean was woken by a hand on his shoulder, shaking him softly.

"Huh? What is it?" he shot up from the couch, immediately reaching for his duffel with the weapons.

Cas was quicker, though. "Shh, Dean. It's just me. Nothing's wrong."

Focusing on the dark-haired man in front of him who held him back with both hands on his shoulders, Dean relaxed slowly. After a deep sigh, he let himself fall back onto the pillow. "Okay... okay. What is it, though?" It was still very obviously in the middle of the night, a short look at his cell told him 3 a. m.

"You were making a lot of noise and you sounded frightened, so I came over. Seems like you had another nightmare," Cas said, worry obvious in his tone.

"Yeah, I had. Sorry, I hope I didn't wake you?"

Castiel shook his head. "No, I was already up. Similar reason," he sighed before standing up, "wait here, I'll get us some tea."

For a few minutes, Dean stared out of the living room window, which was one of those huge floor-to-ceiling windows that led out to the balcony, and listened to Cas rattling around in the kitchen, and the boiling kettle. When he returned with two mugs, he motioned quietly for Dean to scoot over on the couch, and he obeyed immediately. Castiel offered one of the mugs to him, but Dean just shook his head.

"Keep it for a sec, and let me just-" he said, leaving the sentence half-finished and reaching for his blanket to spread it over both of them. Cas let him tug it down beside his thigh, and waited until Dean had settled before handing the cup over.

Taking the cup and a first, tentative sip from it, Dean relaxed visibly.

"What were you dreaming about?" Cas asked silently.

Dean chuckled. Cas just commented it with a raised eyebrow.

"I know it isn't funny... and I don't really know what I've been dreaming, forgot it again already, but... we had a similar situation before, you know. One time, I was waking up and you had been sitting on the edge of my bed, asking exactly this question."

"I was watching you in your sleep? Oh. Wow. Didn't know I was that creepy."

Dean huffed in amusement. "Yeah, I said something like that kind as an answer. Anyway... what were you dreaming about?"

Cas cleared his throat, the moment between them suddenly becoming a lot more tensed - somehow. "Sam. I saw him, surrounded by flames, and screaming. Screaming your name, occasionally mine, while he was in a cage with two other persons. Lucifer and Michael, I guess, but they weren't exactly persons... rather some kind of angrily pulsing light surrounding and slurring around Sam, and I reached out and grabbed him. Only a blue light was left behind, but I had Sam."

Dean swallowed heavily. "You were the one who resurrected Sam after the apocalypse. The blue thingie you left was his soul."

"Why would I leave back his soul?" Castiel asked back confused.

Dean turned his head towards the window then, left the question unanswered. It hurt too much to think about the whole betrayal arch that was their last year with Cas. They drank their tea in silence, and luckily, Cas didn't probe him any more.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" Cas asked after countless moments.

"Dunno," Dean shrugged. "Waiting for the call from the hospital?"

"Yes, but until then?"

It took a few moments of pondering until Dean stated. "Hey. You do have a computer, right?"

"Yes, I've got a laptop."

"Would you mind if I'd use it to do some research?"

Cas shook his head slowly. "No, not at all."

"Good, then I'll have something to do for tomorrow." He deliberately didn't explain it any further.

They sat in silence once again, their mugs long empty and sitting on the couch table.

Dean only woke up from a distinctive beeping sound sounding from the bedroom, hours later, and noticed how stiff his his neck and left shoulder were. His neck because he had fallen asleep with his head tilted backwards and laying in a weird angle against the top of the back rest, and his shoulder because Cas' head lay heavily on it. Still, Dean couldn't help but grin slightly when he noticed it. Castiel was fast asleep, and if he didn't have to go to work today, Dean would have let him sleep that way.

And he would have let him sleep like that if it wasn't for the stupid alarm clock. Dean grunted and shook Cas softly awake. The look he received from the former angel was-

Precious.

Well, that was the first word that came to Dean's mind at seeing Cas blink into the morning sun shining through the windows, focusing on Dean before blinking again and yawning. While rubbing his eyes. Okay, definitely precious.

"Morning," Dean mumbled sleepily.

The sounds that came out of Cas' mouth sounded vaguely like something similar. Then he stood wordlessly and stumbled towards his bedroom to shut the alarm off. Castiel returned seconds later, flopped back on the couch and back into the crook of Dean's shoulder, where he had slept before.

Dean laughed out loud. "You have to go to work, you know."

"Don't wanna," was mumbled against his shoulder.

Dean chuckled once again. "Gotta pay the bills," he said, unconsciously reaching up and combing his fingers through Cas' messy hair.

"Mhhmpf," was Castiel's only answer.

This time, Dean didn't respond, just looked down and wondered. Wondered how this man, who was so much his Cas and so much not had gotten so close to him in those few days. Sure, there was trust, out of nowhere, because they just knew each other. Even Castiel had recognized him, and seemed to remember more and more the longer he was around Dean, which – yeah, felt kinda awesome. But Dean knew that this wasn't his socially awkward nerdy angel any more. Cas was human now, was rehabilitated among humans, and acted like one. Went to work, had to eat and sleep and keep an eye on his car and his place. He was a regular man now.

And despite Dean having liked Cas' old personality, for all his awkwardness and strange attitude, he liked this new one just as well.

Maybe, if Dean was honest to himself, because he felt that Cas did him good. That after all those months of hurt and pain and everything going down the tubes, he finally had something good in his life again. He had a friend again, one he could listen to and talk to in return. Who wouldn't judge him, who would be there for him unquestioningly. God, it felt good.

Dean squeezed him shortly, for a moment very overwhelmed by his feelings. Feelings he had thought were buried deep down inside, feelings he thought he wasn't allowed to have, because he just couldn't have nice things - because he was Dean Winchester.

Affection, joy, gratefulness.

Cas stirred under him tough, and Dean realized they had been sitting here like this for a few minutes too long, and Cas had to go to work.

"Rise 'n shine, Cas," Dean said loudly, shooing the other man up and to the bathroom.

Laughing at Castiel's grumbled protest, he headed for the kitchen to make breakfast. Toast, this time because Cas liked it, and Dean quietly wondered when during the past few days they had slipped into this domestic lifestyle. However, it felt nice to have some kind of routine.

When Cas returned from his shower and saw the hawaii-style toast waiting for him, he grinned. "You made toast," he stated amused.

"Yeah, thought you'd like it," Dean said, sucking a drop of pineapple juice from his thumb.

"I do," Cas answered quietly, looking down at his plate and shaking his head slightly.

"Will you stare at it all morning or are you going to eat it anytime soon?" Dean teased, nudging his shoulder against Cas'.

The other man snapped out of his daze and quickly rushed to the table to sit down and eat. Between bites and a pleased hum at the taste, Cas asked, "And you're positive that you're not really my ex-boyfriend or something?"

The way he said it made Dean smile and laugh lightly. "No, I'm not," he answered, but a perfidious smirk tugged at the edges of his lips, and it didn't go unnoticed by Cas.

"What?" the former angel asked, his voice a bit higher pitched than usual.

Dean just shook his head and turned around.

"Spill it, Winchester!" Cas commanded from the table.

Dean just laughed.

"Come on! There is – or there was something – so just tell me!"

"I told you there was nothing. Nothing happened between us."

"But you said we were to a brothel together once-"

"Yeah, because you told me you're-"

"Wait," Cas interrupted him, all of a sudden very serious and breaking their light banter, "wait. I remember... I remember-" he left his cutlery laying on the plate and reached up to rub his temples. "There's you... in a dark room. And you say something about Ernie and Bert being gay."

Dean swallowed heavily. "Yes, that was the night we went to the brothel."

"Great! But... what about Ernie and Bert?" Cas asked confused.

"Uhm... what I said back then was 'Two things I know for sure: One – Ernie and Bert are gay. Two – you're not gonna die a virgin on my watch.'," Dean explained, the lump still very present in his throat.

"But we were thrown out of the brothel, you said so. And- wait. Did you let me die a virgin?"

"Actually, yes," Dean smiled lopsided in a fruitless attempt of an apology.

"Wait. So I'm a thirty-something-year-old virgin?" Cas' brows furrowed.

"Nope. Millenia-something-year-old virgin, to be exact," Dean nodded, shoveling two toasts onto his own plate and grabbing his cup of coffee to sit down in front of Cas.

Who practically gaped at him.

"Yeah, I didn't keep my promise, sorry," Dean said quietly. "But you were a tricky case."

Cas shook his head. "Yes, the stick-up-the-ass-angel, I know, I know. But seriously, weren't there easier ways to get me laid than taking me to a whorehouse?"

"Like?"

"Dunno? You're a guy, figure it out," Cas shrugged, looking down at his plate again.

"Damn right I'm a guy, but I'm also straight," Dean deadpanned.

"Oh," Cas mumbled, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Come again?" Dean stared at him, not really knowing how to deal with that response.

"Uhm. I didn't mean to... pry or step on your toes or anything. I mean, I haven't even figured it out for myself. I had more urgent things to do than burdening my mind with such trivial matters as sexual orientation. I did think about how it had been before, though... of course I did. There might always be the chance of an angry ex walking up to me and slapping me in the face because I don't remember them any more."

"So what was your conclusion?" Dean asked. He didn't know if he should be curious about it or rather back off.

Cas shrugged. "I found neither men nor women interesting enough at first, and I blamed it on my medication and the treatment, but even when they lowered the medication to a minimum and the treatment became more and more open, I still found myself not caring about anyone I met. It's not like I've been trying to date or looking for anyone, so..." another shrug- "but I find myself feeling quite comfortable in your presence," Castiel added quietly without looking at Dean.

Dean drew his breath in sharply. It seemed like nervous Cas liked to fall back into past-Cas' behavior, especially into his way of expressing himself. And Dean didn't know why, but he felt his heart swell at this. There was still his old Cas somewhere in there, and although he couldn't deny that he liked the new Cas in his own way, that fact made him smile widely. And to top it all, Castiel had just said he felt 'quite comfortable' in his presence. Silently Dean decided that he could let himself enjoy the feeling spreading in his chest for a minute. Or two.

Castiel smiled back, obviously pleased with Dean's reaction, and dug back into his breakfast. When he left for work just a few minutes later, Dean found himself actually sad as went out the door. So to shut up the stupid pounding of his heart, he sat down at Cas' PC to do some research, or at least see what Dick Roman was up to.

As it turned out, the Leviathans did pretty much nothing. Which, in Dean's understanding, meant they were planning up something big underneath, keeping it low, nothing that made the papers, not even the politics page in Roman's case. Dean decided to call Frank, because something in there was so not right. He could not use any kind of trouble right now, really not now.

So, as they agreed upon, Dean called the line Frank had given him the last time they talked, and let it ring exactly twice before hanging up again. A few minutes later – minutes Dean spent impatiently drumming his fingers onto the desk – his cell rang.

"Yeah?" he answered it quickly.

"It's Frank," a slightly annoyed voice greeted him.

"No shit, Sherlock," Dean groaned.

"Oh, c'mon, you were the one that called me. So spill it, I don't have time here all day. Especially not when pretty much anybody could listen to this."

Dean rolled his eyes, but asked back calmly. "I'm just stuck here for at least a few days, and I don't see any action from the big-mouths. And I'm a bit worried about that, because it looks like the calm before the storm. You got anything?"

"Sure they're plotting something, but- wait, where are you at?"

Dean gave him the name of the small town Cas was currently living at and waited anxiously for Frank's answer.

"They're states over at the moment, as far as my contacts go. I'll warn you if I get to know anything, alright?"

"Yeah, please," Dean said benevolent, pinching his nose. "Thanks, anyway, Frank. Alright, so I hope I don't hear from you anytime soon."

Frank chuckled.

Dean was about to hang up on him, when Frank added in a haste, "Oh, one more thing! Meant to tell you. There has been a strange meteor sighted a couple miles outside of your town. Damn, I was sure I had heard that name just days ago."

"A meteor? So?" Dean retorted, quite unimpressed.

"Dunno. Thought it might be something of your thing."

"Well, was it anything special?"

"No, the only strange part of it was that it apparently hit the earth without leaving a crater," Frank said sarcastically.

"Huh," was all Dean could say. "Sorry, got bigger things to worry about. Big-mouths and stuff, you know. So bye."

Dean could make out a faint 'Bye-' when he let his phone snap shut.

Huh, indeed. Weird. Dean couldn't quite sort out what it reminded him of, though.

He surfed the internet for nothing particular for an hour or so, catching up on the news of the previous days and maybe laughing at a few youtube-videos to distract himself. It was actually quite an enjoyable morning until his cell phone rang at about 11 a. m.

"It's the St. James medical hospital, Dr. Milton speaking," a male voice said upon answering it.

Dean gulped. Something familiar rang in his ears, but he couldn't nail it down.

"Is this Dean Winchester I'm speaking to?"

"Yes, it is. You're calling about my brother?" Dean answered, and felt how the nagging panic he had tried to suppress welled up again.

"Yes, it's about Sam. Listen, I don't want to worry you, so first things first: he's doing okay, considering the circumstances. The medication works great, and he will be able to see you this afternoon. Would you like to stop by?"

"Of course," Dean responded quick as a shot. "Can I bring someone else as well?"

A beat, a short breath of air into the speaker from the other side of the line. The doctor was pondering, and Dean found himself biting his lip. "Does Sam know that certain someone?"

"He does," Dean assured with a nod, feeling stupid because the doctor wouldn't see this.

"It's okay, then, but we have to take it slow. I'll explain to you later."

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat yet again. "Yeah, see you later, then."

"Goodbye."

Dean stared at the phone, lost in thought, and eventually put it back into his pocket. He decided to cook some lunch during the last hour he had left until Cas returned from work in an attempt to distract himself. The picture of what was awaiting him, of Sam in that hospital, had practically haunted him all night. That he had to face it that afternoon didn't make his thoughts any less heavy. Quite the contrary, rather.

He didn't notice the click of the entrance door opening when Cas came home, and almost threw the frying pan from the stove in shock. It wasn't really his brightest moment.

"Hey," Cas chuckled amused as he watched from the door as Dean re-collected himself, "Did I startle you?"

"Did it look like that to you?" Dean snapped, but without much force behind it, which Cas picked up very well.

"What's for lunch?" Cas asked, ignoring the not-a-question Dean had thrown at him.

"Spaghetti aglio e olio," Dean answered in a fake italian accent that made Cas laugh again.

"Oh, we're so going to stink from garlic," he said, lips quirked in a smile.

"At least we will stink together," Dean smirked.

After Cas had shrugged off his jacket and shoes, he came to stand beside Dean on the oven. "Thanks, by the way. And no, stop it-" he added immediately as soon as Dean opened his mouth to answer, "I know what you said. Doesn't mean I get to take it for granted. So just accept it for once, okay?"

Dean gulped. "Okay," he said in defeat.

Cas bent forward to sniff at the noodles in the pan. "They smell delicious," he commented anticipated.

Dean just smiled and after a few more minutes, which Cas spent with telling him a few anecdotes of today's work, he prepared their plates. The spaghetti didn't just smell wonderful, they actually tasted equally as good, and Dean quietly patted himself on the shoulder. At least his cooking skills had improved.

When they were done with lunch and had done the dishes, Dean couldn't push it any further into the future and finally cleared his throat. "The doctor called about an hour ago," he said quietly.

"And? How's Sam?" Cas immediately responded eagerly.

"Fine, apparently. We are allowed to see him this afternoon."

"Well, that's great! Should we go now?" Cas' blue eyes were sparkling. Then he stiffened, realizing what he had just said. "You said we," he stated, blinking wonderingly.

"Yeah, and I meant we," Dean said.

"So I am allowed to see Sam? Did you ask the doctor?"

"Yes, I did. It's okay."

Cas looked out of the kitchen window, avoiding Dean's gaze. "You sure you want me in on this?" he whispered, his voice breaking mid-sentence. "I mean... do you have any idea how he's gonna react?"

"No, I don't know. But it'll be fine, I promise," Dean said, reaching out and placing his hand comforting on Cas' upper arm unconsciously.

Cas let his head drop to his chest and sighed.

"Come on, please... I don't want to do this alone," Dean choked out. It wasn't easy to admit, but hey, it was Cas he was talking to.

Castiel leaned forward into Dean's space and rested his head at Dean's shouler. "Don't get me wrong," he began quietly, "It's not like I don't want to see Sam, but I'm worried that he might not react the way you think he will."

Dean stayed silent.

"I know that Sam means more to you than everything- everybody else, so what if he-"

"Don't, Cas," Dean said firmly, interrupting him, "Let's cross that bridge when we come to it."

"If you say so," Castiel sighed, sliding closer to Dean.

Without really thinking about it, Dean wrapped his arms around the other man's waist, pulling him into a hug. Who was he kidding, of course he was nervous as well. Of course he was worried that Sam would freak out after all that had happened with Cas. And Cas still didn't know about it.

"I know that there is a reason, you know," Cas said evenly, "A reason that Sam may be angry at me. And not a minor reason, because else you'd have talked to me about it by now."

Wordlessly, Dean squeezed him a bit tighter for a second, until Castiel raised his arms to place them around Dean's neck.

It hit Dean like a brick that he maybe kinda really... 'felt quite comfortable' in Cas' presence as well. The thought alone was frightening.

Quickly, he pulled away to not stretch the awkward moment any further. "Come on, let's go."

Didn't mean he didn't want to slap himself for that move.

When they arrived at the hospital, Dean was so on the edge that he was desperate to hold onto something, and the number one candidate for that something was Cas' hand, swinging only inches from his own. But he wasn't a girl, and he wasn't gay, and... he was desperate, yes, but not that desperate. Dean took another deep breath. They reached the room Sam had been stationed in the day before quickly, and took a short glance through the window.

It revealed Sam sitting on the bed and talking to the doctor Dean and Cas had talked to the day before. The doctor whose name Dean didn't catch, but after the call this morning, it had to be Dr. Milton. Dean still wondered where he had heard that name before. He was sure he'd had heard it before.

When the doctor noticed them through the glass, he excused himself to Sam and quickly went to the door, shutting the window blind so Sam couldn't see who was visiting him.

"Dr. Milton?" Dean asked once the man in the white coat stepped up to them.

He nodded shortly. "Mr. Winchester, and Mr. …?" he looked questioningly at Cas.

"Doe," Cas said, by default. Dean winced when he heard the name, but seeing as Cas didn't have a surname to begin with- it didn't matter.

Dr. Milton nodded again in understanding. "Okay. First things first – Mr. Winchester, you'll go in first, and without Mr. Doe. You can talk to Sam about anything you want to, but it will be under my watch. I have to see his reaction. We can let your friend here in later, when we are sure that Sam can handle his presence. Okay?"

"Okay," Dean answered. "Let's do this."

He took a deep breath before casting one last glance at Cas, a bit helpless, and Cas just gave him a comforting, small smile and squeezed Dean's shoulder with his hand. "Go," he said.

Nodding, Dean followed the doctor into the room.

"Dean?" Sam said immediately, a happy smile on his face. A smile so happy it actually hurt Dean, because he hadn't seen a real trademark Sam-smile since... well, since Sam had been standing in front of him covered in glitter.

"Yeah, Sam, it's me," Dean answered, swallowing heavily.

Sam immediately jumped up from his bed and hugged Dean tightly. "It's so good to see you, man."

"You too," Dean said quietly, squeezing his brother shortly before releasing him. "How are you doing? Honestly?"

"I'm... I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but I'm feeling good," Sam said, the smile still prominent on his lips.

"Like... really, really good?" Dean asked carefully.

"Yeah, good in like 'no Lucifer sitting on the cupboard beside Dr. Milton'."

Dean's eyes widened. "How... what?" Confused, he looked over to the doctor, who smiled innocently. "How much medication did you give him today?"

"We didn't have to stock it up since he woke up, because he didn't need it. We just let the ones that are still in his system wear off," the doctor answered willingly.

"And you aren't kidding me, Sammy?" Dean turned back to his little brother.

"Nope, absolutely not. I'm not saying this for the doctor. And I've told him everything, believe me," Sam grinned.

"Wait... like... everything everything?" Dean's eyes widened in shock.

Dr. Milton cut in right then. "Everything. Down to his soul in hell with Michael and Lucifer."

"And you believed it?" Dean gaped.

"Of course. Hey, I work in a mental hospital," the doctor shrugged.

"So, how have you been doing?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "'m okay. Holding up. And I... uhm... I met someone-" he looked to Dr. Milton for permission, and the doctor nodded in agreement, "you should meet him, Sam."

Dr. Milton had left the room and returned with Cas, who stepped tentatively into the room, very aware of Sam's eyes on him. Sam checked him up and down, a frown on his face, but he responded eventually, disbelief in his tone, "Cas?"

Castiel nodded, watching Sam carefully.

Sam's eyes flickered over to Dean, asking for help, before he reached for Dean's elbow and pulled him to the corner the furthest away from the door and Cas. "I... how... how is he back? I can't believe it. I mean... what happened?" he hissed.

"Sam, he doesn't remember anything. He remembers glimpses of you and me and the Impala, but that's it."

"Oh, so we conveniently forgot about the whole betrayal and purgatory thing? Is that it?" Sam snapped.

"Sam, cut it out," Dean grumbled angrily. "It's not like he had a choice, now did he?"

Sam pursed his lips. "But if he doesn't know anything anymore, does that make everything he did undone? No, Dean, it doesn't. It doesn't make him a different person than he was."

"He has changed, and he's in therapy," Dean rolls his eyes. "Give him a chance, you'll see. Believe me. Cas allowed me to crash at his place for the time being, and he does his best to make it up to me, even if he doesn't remember it any more."

"Didn't you tell him?" Sam frowned.

"No, I didn't," Dean looked to the floor and scratched the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed. "Not yet," he added.

"Yeah, well, then tell him, please. Maybe he'll see that it takes a lot more than just letting you sleep on his couch to have our support again."

"Now you're downright cruel, Sam. He's suffered enough, don't you think?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean. I know you always had a soft spot for him-"

"No, I didn't! Besides, totally missing the point here," Dean spluttered.

"Save it. Cas left and betrayed us, Dean. And you know what? Back then, I prayed for him, thought he was still our friend, still on our side. And you saw how that turned out. To be fair, we should leave him to deal with the Leviathans, but no, that's always our part to play, rescue the world and stuff. The family business."

"Bitter, Sammy, and harsh. Don't like that on you," Dean said evenly.

Sam rolled his eyes again and huffed. "Yeah. I think you better leave, Dean. And think twice about the things he tells you. Don't trust him. He's not who he used to be, so you never know."

Disappointed, Dean shook his head and turned around. "I'll see you tomorrow. That is, if you want to see me."

Without saying one more word, Dean grabbed Cas' hand and pulled him out of the room. Without even saying goodbye to Dr. Milton.

Silently fuming, they went home – that is, to Cas' apartment, and Dean flopped down onto the couch as soon as he reached it. He groaned and rubbed his hands over his eyes.

"Damn, I need a beer," he moaned.

Looking up, he saw Cas, standing beside the sofa, in the exact same spot as before, his head hanging low and staring to the floor. He looked crestfallen, and now that he looked closer, Dean noticed how Cas' shoulders shook. After standing up and stepping in front of him, Dean also noticed the tears rolling down Castiel's cheeks.

"Don't say I told you so," Dean said quietly and cupped Cas' face in his, rubbing his thumbs over the smaller man's cheeks. His touch was gentle and comforting, and Dean felt how Cas leaned into it, but only shook harder from the sobs running through his body in waves. Dean tried to soothe him, but Cas seemed too upset to even talk. He fisted both hands into the fabric of Dean's shirt, clutching at it, tugging Dean closer, and pushing him away the next second.

"It hurts, Dean, it hurts so fucking much," he sobbed.

"I know," Dean said, but it didn't calm Castiel down in the least.

"No you don't!" he almost yelled, tears still running down his face while he grabbed Dean harder, "How could you possibly know? Sam's your brother. All you'd have to do was leave me back here and off he rolls with you, everything fine-"

Dean just huffed, not even commenting on it.

"-but me? I'm not his friend anymore. And I don't even know exactly why, and it hurts because I felt it. Felt that there was a friendship there, had been there for a long time, and I lost it, because I screwed up. Because past-me screwed up. Apparently, you two were the only friends I ever had, and I... failed and lost you."

"Cas... Cas, listen to me for a second, okay? You know your last words to me were that you will redeem yourself to me?" Dean asked softly. By now, he had one hand wrapped around Castiel's waist and the other buried in the dark brown hair strands, trying not to force Cas to look up to him with the grip in his neck.

How the hell had physical contact become that normal between them? Dean wondered quietly, although he didn't care much at the moment.

Castiel nodded softly into his neck, where his head with the mop of brown hair had come to rest. "Then help me find a way to deal with the Leviathans. That will make Sam see that he can trust you."

Cas swallowed and was quiet for a few minutes, just letting his sobs ebb out as Dean was holding him. Even after he had calmed down, Cas stayed right where he was.

"Dean, I'm so tired," he finally managed.

When Dean glanced at his watch, he noticed that it only was about 4 p. m., but he could understand.

"You wanna lay down? Should I get you something?" he asked worried.

"Tea would be nice. And company," Cas said wearily.

Dean nodded, pulling away from the hug and immediately missing the warmth of Cas' body. Gently, he rested his hand at the small of Castiel's back and led him down the short hallway to the bedroom, where Cas immediately fell into the sheets.

"Be right back," Dean murmured, running a hand through the other man's hair absently and hurrying towards the kitchen.

After pouring two cups of peppermint tea, Dean entered the bedroom which he hadn't been in before – at all. It felt like intruding into Cas' personal space, but the latter just lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

"Sit up and shift," Dean said quietly, nudging Cas lightly with his knee.

Castiel obeyed willingly and accepted the cup of tea. When they were both seated on the bed, Cas sighed tiredly. "Believe it or not, Dean, but I remember a bit more now. It just... happened. Bits of a room filled with torture tools, and an open hole in the wall. I have no idea where that was."

Dean gulped, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat.

"So I guess I have to tell you," he finally said, sighing. "If you want to hear it?"

Cas nodded silently.

"Well then. Just let me talk, and ask questions later. It's hard enough to tell this story at all."

Shit is getting real. Thoughts? Expectations? Let me know :)