Rolling over and pulling Castiel closer to him, Dean smiled as he knew things wouldn't be the same. He knew this changed everything. But he didn't want to be bothered with it at the moment. He was too happy to care. Castiel turned over to look at Dean, wide awake with a gentle smile. They kissed, a long, warm, kiss. Dean's hands slipped down the sheets to enjoy the morning, but Castiel's hand stopped him.

"Dean, there's something you should know."

"Cas, if it isn't an emergency," Dean's eyes flickered to Castiel's lips,"It can wait." Dean interrupted Castiel with another, rougher, kiss. He threw off the blanket, which would only become a nuisance. "Cas.."

"Dean, stop." Dean looked up at Castiel, hoping beyond hope that he wasn't serious. The pained look in his eyes told him all he needed to know. His heart sank. His world- the one he had tried so desperately to construct and keep safe- was crashing down around him. Sam was gone, and now, Castiel might be leaving, too.

"Why?" Dean barely got the word out, his breath began to hitch.

Stop it.

Stop.

Oh my god, I'm such a girl.

"We can't." Castiel looked at him, obviously wounded as well. Dean gulped, cleared his throat, picked up his clothes, and went upstairs.

Castiel didn't see Dean struggling to hold back his tears.

Dean didn't see Castiel bury his face in his hands and let himself give in to wrecking sobs.

Sam, completely oblivious to wha was taking place in the house, sat on the porch steps, contemplating what he'd seen the previous night, and, shoving these thoughts aside, he went inside to surprise Dean.

After Dean showered, cleaning away the last remnants of the night from his chest, he he was going to go out, get dressed, and never mention anything to Castiel again. Upon opening the door, he was greeted by a familiar sight.

"Oh Christ, Dean, use a towel." Sam groaned and shut his eyes from his place on the bed.

Dean was still in shock. "Sam, what- I- How-" He couldn't string together two words. Instead, he crossed the floor to hug his brother.

"I thought I'd lost you. Dad always told me-"

"Dean, get off me and put on clothes or I swear I will hit you." Sam shook his head, raised his eyebrows, and pursed his lips before going downstairs.

"Okay." Dean chuckled as he went to the dresser and put on jeans, an undershirt, a button-down shirt, and a jacket before heading down to talk to Sam.

"Sammy, what the hell happened to you?" Dean offered him a beer. Sam took it, noticing that Castiel was still on the couch, curled up in what seemed to be his own trench coat.

God, Cas, I love my brother, but I can't stand to see you like this. It was a one-time thing. It's not going to happen again.

Jeez, he's really upset.

Or tired. He could be tired.

"Well, uh, nothing fun." Sam jerked Dean back to reality.

"Sam, I saw you get taken. Then a whole bunch of crazy-ass stuff happened and now suddenly you're back?" Dean took a swig and sat down at the table, blocking his view of the curled-up Castiel."

"Well, uh, I'll start at the beginning." Sam took a long drink of his beer and cleared his throat.

"Right after Crowley took me, I felt this crushing pressure, like my body was going to be ripped apart from the inside. It wasn't pleasant." Sam chuckled and shook his head softly at the memory of it. Looking up to meet Dean's eyes, he went on with his tale.

"Then the pressure stopped and went away. It felt like it was draining away, like all that power was melting, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Once that sensation was gone, I was glad to be rid of it. But I felt so weak. Like I had to have it. I needed it again. I felt so powerless. I wanted it all to end, I wanted it to be over, Dean. I wanted to just let go. Die."

"Sam-"

"Let me finish, Dean. You don't understand this torture. It came in waves. The flash of burning light, the power, then the fading, and then weakness. It went on for days. Every so often, I'd look up and Crowley would tell Bela to hold off and he'd tell me to defend myself. I had no idea what he meant, though."

"You had? So did you figure it out or...?"

"Dean, I didn't know. I didn't." Sam turned his head downwards. When he looked back up at his brother, tears were in his eyes.

"They were dormant, Dean. My abilities."

Dean looked at Sam in a silent stupor. "Sam, stay where you are. Just stay." Dean picked up a circular tin flask and emptied the contents on Sam's head.

"Dean, what the-"

"Shut up."

Dean threw rock salt at him.

"Dean, I'm not a-"

"I said shut up."

Dean sliced Sam's arm with three different knives, one of silver, one of iron, and one that was dipped in holy water. Sam winced, but not to the extent of supernatural pain. Dean pulled out a jug of Borax and poured it on Sam's hand. Sam shook the liquid off, trying to dry his hand.

"What the hell, Sam?" Dean gave up and sat across from him at the table, honestly bewildered. Sam shrugged.

"First you show up out of nowhere, then you tell me you've got those-those powers again, and now no weapon against the stuff we hunt works on you?"

Sam crossed his arms. "Like I said, Dean, I was powerless. I had no idea any of it was happening to me."

"Sam, I- How did you escape?"

"I didn't."

Dean looked at him, stunned.

"Crowley let me go. Bela said something about it being the right time since, I don't know, something about her spell not working correctly."

"Like how?"

"I don't know, Dean. There are a lot of things I don't know, okay?"

"Okay, Sam." Dean crossed over to the refrigerator. "Another?" Sam nodded and took the other beer, sitting in silence. Dean went back to the study to wake up Castiel.

"Mmh?"

"Cas, come on. You need to get up."

"Fine, Dean, just give me my clothes, okay?"

Dean's eyes darted to Sam, worried.

"Castiel had too much to drink last night." Dean spoke, too fast. He gathered up Castiel's clothes and helped him upstairs and to his room.

Donning his suit-jacket, Castiel left the trench coat on the bed. He looked up at Dean.

"Dean, I'm so sorry. But you thought you needed me. I understand now. You need your brother, not me. I should go."

"You're staying right here, Cas."

Dean turned to see Sam in the doorway. Sam looked at Dean and back at Castiel.

"Dean needs you as much as you need him, Cas. You're only human, but you need to learn that, at the very least. I'll stay here, but you two need to work things out between yourselves." Sam smiled softly and nodded. He flashed his eyes to Dean before leaving the room.

What?

No.

I didn't see anything.

Dean turned back to Castiel, who smiled wistfully, as if he was wishing for something. Dean decided to grant this wish.

He kissed him and told Castiel to move his things int the master bedroom, Dean's room. As he sat on the end of the bed, watching Castiel fold what little clothes he had meticulously, preparing to move down the hall, Dean let his mind wander.

What's gonna happen now?

Does Sam know?

I'll sleep on the couch until he figures it out.

Does Cas have any idea how Bela tortured Sam?

Or why it all stopped suddenly?

As Castiel piled his clothes in his hands and walked down the hall to Dean's room, Dean turned out the lights. He left his jeans and layers of shirts and jackets in his room and went down to lay on the couch. One recurring thought refused to let him sleep.

I could have sworn, if only for a second, Sam's eyes were a dull yellow.