Alrighty, fourth chapter up. I'll try to write a fifth one while I'm at the airport, I'll probably post it tomorrow night (or later tonight considering it's 3am.) This next month I may not post much, I'm going home to see my parents and my friends so my schedule may be busy, but I have a ton of ideas I'm going to be putting on paper soon (computer document?)

Enjoy, KD


"I'm never going to be able to hear properly again." Gabriel huffed, laying across the bar.

"Wanna fuck in the kitchen?" whispered Sam.

"You bet your sweet moosey ass I do." Gabriel jumped off the bar, ready to pounce any minute.

"I thought you said you couldn't hear properly?"

It had been a successful night, minus Garth getting wasted and puking on his turntable and having to use mixed tapes the rest of the evening. The tips were plenty, and the bartender flirting was untamed and unashamed. Gabriel had proven to be a worthy cook, Balthazar made notable purple nurples and slippery nipples, and Castiel was a God on the dance floor. Dean may or may not have been a tad jealous that women and man flocked to his swaying hips, each wanting a gyrating dance with the man. And he may or may not have slid over the bar and stole him from his group of harlots and danced with him the rest of the night away.

Jo picked up the bucket under the bar and filled it with scalding soap water and 6 rags, hand one to each person.

"I just slaved over a hot stove and you want me to clean as well?"

"Hey, you want us to get out of here faster you'll do your part."

"Yes mom."

Dean and Castiel took the back tables, closer to the open door, feeling the cool air coming in and letting the sweaty air out.

"So what's after this?" Castiel asked dumping glasses into the cocktail bucket, and placing them in the bus-bin.

"Probably go back to my apartment-"

"Why? You don't want to come back to the Glen?"

"Relax, we'll come back, we just need to grab some clothes, we can't wear the same thing every day, humans sweat, we get stinky." Dean answered, wiping down the table after all the glasses moved.

"We could make you new clothes, we have a fantastic seamster ."

"Yeah but, we like our clothes, they can't really be replaced."

"Oh, you they have sentimental value?" Cas said, testing the word as if he's never used it before.

"Yeah, I guess.."

"I think that's how I am with my books."

"You and fiction? I don't see it."

"It's not just fiction, it's history, and art, and politics. We Fae were once to history keepers of the world, we were once considered the Good Folk, we were so known among humans, we were healers, and leaders, and peacekeepers."

"Woah, come down before you have stroke. I get it"

"You'll never know until you see your people go through a mass genocide because others see you as a powerful threat."

"I think I would know what that's like."

"How?"

"That's… a story for another time."

They finished the last table and before Castiel could push further Dean took their bins in to the kitchen, dumping the cocktail bucket into the drains and putting the glasses through the industrial washer.

"Alright, you guys ready?" Dean said, tossing the now clean rag onto the horizontal pole above the bar to dry.

"Yeah, just give us a minute."

They decided to go to Dean and Sam's apartment first, claiming it was closer, and Jo's was on the way back to the Glen even though with zap-friendly fairies it didn't really matter. They also decided to walk, it was a clear night, why not enjoy it?

Dean called the shower first, claming he had to get the slut-spunk off him. Showing Cas to his room and leaving him there he hopped in the shower, but 5 minutes later he felt a shorter and leaner body press into his back, and hands reach around to stroke his chest, he tensed, waiting for the reaction he'd gotten many times when someone really felt him.

"Dean, where did these scars come from?"

Dean offered a noncommittal grunt in reply to that subject, not really wanting to delve into the subject right now, he was having a good night.

"Will you tell me eventually?"

Dean grunted again, but with a slight inflection in the middle, a yes.

"You're a beautiful man, Dean. Regardless of how you got these scars."

"It's not how I got these scars that I'm worried about, it's what I did after them."

Before Castiel could get another word in he was being pressed into the cold ceramic tile of the shower wall and another mouth was assaulting his own. In a flash it was over, and the taller man had turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist.

Castiel came back into Dean's room finding the other man fully clothed and going through his closet tossing random items into a duffel bag sitting on his bed. He walked over to the man, and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he didn't understand the man's eerie silence on the subject, but he respected it. When Dean was ready, he would talk. Castiel turned back to the closet, taking note of the minuscule amount of items, a few pair of jeans, a pair of khakis, dress pants, two button down shirts, a few graphic t-shirts, three flannels, a belt, a black knee length military duster, a pair of biker boots, sneakers, and Capps dress shoes. But behind all that hung a black suit cover. Without even thinking of the other man's privacy Castiel reached out and unzipped it, taking in the navy wool, gold buttons, red trim, and medals.

"You were in the military?"

Dean looked up, a flash of rage crossed his eyes, but was taken over by defeat, he knew this was coming.

"It was a long time ago."

"What do these medals mean?"

There were two, the first one, was red, white, and blue stripped clothe, the actual medal was an eagle with half folded wings surrounded by barbed wire. The other was purple, heart shaped, with a George Washington bust in the center.

"This one is a POW Award," Dean said pointing to the eagle, "And this one is the Purple Heart."

"What do they mean?"

"POW stands for… Prisoner of War."

Castiel stood, showing the perfect poker face, with a glint of curiosity in his eyes, urging the other man to go on.

"And the Purple Heart is given to soldiers who are wounded or killed in battle against enemy fire."

"How long were you in the service?"

"5 years, but it felt like forever, my father raised Sam and I as little soldiers, he was in the Marines as well, it was a given that we were supposed to go in as well."

"You both went in?"

"Yeah, I waited for Sam to turn 18, we went together, to the same basic training, same division, same tour. Sammy was a medic, one of the best. I was a foot soldier, Captain of my Company of 108 men."

"What happened?"

"We were ambushed." No falter, no hesitation. Eyes hardened, and knuckles white, Dean reached into the suit cover, and pulled out a leather bound book, and handed it to Castiel.

"I took this with me, I'm not a diary kind of guy, but I knew if I returned I wasn't going to be the same, so I documented what I could. When Sammy was sent home he was sent home with my stuff, when I came back I wrote down what I could remember. This has everything in it."

"You don't have to give this to me, it's obviously personal."

"No one else has ever read this, not even Sam. You want to know what happened, and I want you to know. But I can't go through talking about it."

Cas held the book tight to his chest, as if it were his child, and sat on the bed, waiting for the other man to finish packing. A few minutes later Sam came in with wet hair and his duffel bag. Before Sam or Gabriel could see the book he held he stuffed it in Dean's bag, not wanting to lose it or be asked about it. They walked to Jo's house, which was 15 minutes away, waited while she packed up and showered, then zapped to the fly zone near the Glen.

The Fae decided to show the humans how to get to the houses from the fly zone just in case. Upon entering Castiel and Gabriel's house Balthazar and Jo left, and Castiel went up to his study, Dean's bag in hand, reading to tear into the journal. Gabriel went to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid and 3 tumblers and gestured for the humans to sit.

"So… how long have you guys owned the club?"

"About a year now. Jo's mom got married to one our family friends, and moved to South Dakota to live with him, she signed over the ownership to us, saying we needed a constructive hobby." Sam said, sipping the drink. Dean followed, and was surprised that it wasn't bitter, kind of smoky but sweet.

"What is this?"

"Saffron Whiskey."

"You said those cakes had saffron frosting, and that the candies in those dishes were saffron chews, what's with the saffron obsession?"

"You saw those purple flowers with the rust colored stems right?"

"Yeah, they're all over the damn place."

"Well they grow wherever Fae live, the part of the flower we use in our food and drinks is the stem, it's a spice, but I've been able to concentrate it into a liquid."

"But why the obsession?"

"Fae love sweet things, and earth-things, so we found a sweet thing that was from the earth, so we had to cultivate it into our food."

"Nice."

They enjoyed the drink for a few more minutes before there was a knock at the door. Gabriel got up to answer it and was greeted by his brother Michael.

"Hello brother, come on in."

"Thank you, I see you have guests, I won't be long."

"It's fine, make yourself at home. Sam, Dean, this is Michael, he's the King's right hand."

"Sup'"

"Hello."

Michael nodded and turned to his little brother.

"The King was rather disappointed you didn't show at the ceremonies tonight, as well as Castiel and Balthazar. He saw you three with your partners at the festival and was expecting to have three grand weddings."

"We've decided to take it slow with our humans, you know, test the waters, see if it's worth the long haul."

"I see, well I shall let the King know. Ben is also wondering when he'll get to see his favorite uncle again."

"Tell the tyke I'll see him tomorrow, King Carver wants me to drop off some pastries and saffron whiskey."

"Wonderful, I'll tell him in the morning-" Michael was interrupted by a brunette woman walking through the open door.

"Michael, I told Balthazar to go see Ben tomorrow, do you think you could get him out of training for an hour?"

"Yes, I believe so…"

"Lisa?" Dean interrupted, staring at the familiar brunette, who stood bare foot, in a light green knee length skirt, and tan Henley.

"Dean…"

From the Journal of Dean M. Winchester September 2005

-This is stupid, I'm not a diary kind of guy… but Dad had his journal when he went to war, so I guess I'll take one as well. Sammy and I have enlisted in the marines, it's our first week in Afghanistan. It's hot, and dry. And there's not enough shade for everyone. Sam's already had 3 patients, we're in a high risk zone, but I'm not scared. One of Sam's patients died yesterday, took too much shrapnel to his heart and lungs, it was inevitable, but I can tell it bothers Sam, he's sleeping in the hospital tent instead of the company tent, he doesn't want to leave the other men. I won't admit to him, but it's hard sleeping so far from him. We go to sleep to the sound of bombs and gun fire, and I can't help but fear that the hospital tent will get hit, it's usually the first one to go when a camp is under attack, and we're so close to the town. The other men are turning down their lamps, I can't write anymore.

October 2005

-Sam's a good doc, only 2 men have died on him since we got here, he's had to patch me up a few times. And most of our men have been at his hands. I got a letter from the Lisa's parents, apparently she's gone missing, well, she's been missing since July, but they didn't want me to know. They think she left in a fit of grief after I came here. I wondered why I hadn't gotten any letters from her, I can't say I miss her, I don't know if what we had was anything real, but I hope she's safe. Sam and I have gotten care packages from Bobby, and a few letters from Jo, the packages usually consist of old photos that Bobby finds of our dad, and some hygiene stuff, he once sent us a batch of cookies, but by the time we got them they were crumbs. The last one we got contained a letter saying he had found a woman he liked and her name was Ellen, and she had a daughter Jo that he thought we would like, Sam and I had a fun time telling him on the phone later this week that we both knew Jo and Ellen, and that she was a good woman for him, she'd keep him on his toes.

December 2005

-Our camp was hit last night, we lost three men, and a dozen are in the hospital tent tonight. They caught us off guard, we were celebrating Christmas Eve… They won't catch us off guard again. Sammy was hurt, not bad, but he needed stitches. I got another letter from Lisa's parents, she's still missing, but they went to her house a few weeks ago and found clothes missing, which means she probably wasn't taken against her will, and had actually left on her own. I hope she's happy, wherever she is.

January 2006

-It's my birthday, though only a few people here know it. Sam snuck me a bottle of the good stuff, My boy Jack D. He also gave me a necklace, kinda girly, but I like it. I'll never take it off. Some of the other guys pitched in and got me a dirty mag, Busty Asian Beauties, my favorite, and some more paper to write home. It's been eerily quiet here since the hit, I have a bad feeling that something big is about to happen.

May 2006

-I know I haven't written in a while, but it's still been quiet, we've gone on a few raids, but attacks are low, and the hospital is quiet, so Sam and I have had time to perfect a new card game. It's his birthday today, but I don't know what to get him, the kid doesn't really care much for worldly possessions, but I'm sure I can find something in the town. We're supposed to be doing a raid on a few houses. I won't steal anything, the market stays open all night.

The next entry is marked two years and 4 months later. Castiel closed the journal decided to read whatever happened then, later. He went down stairs and found his human staring wide eyed at his oldest brother's wife. That couldn't... could it?


Like? R&R. Got any ideas? Send them to me, I'll consider them. Sorry if there are any typos or something doesn't make sense, I've been up for the past 24 hours, and I'm about to be awake for another 48, next chapter might make even less sense. And please, feel free to let me know if I mess up somewhere, or something doesn't click/connect. I expanded Dean's time as POW because technically he was gone for years, but I didn't want it to seem like it was too long, you know, like forty years.