Castiel woke up the next morning to find Dean gone and a blanket covering him. Dean had stayed with him until he'd calmed down and then they'd just sat and talked while he'd eaten the food he'd brought up for him. He must have fallen asleep and Dean had covered him with the duvet. He smiled slightly to himself. Dean was still the same really. He still cared about him, maybe the monster in him really was gone for good. A delicious smell wafted from upstairs and he got up, heading down. Dean was in the kitchen cooking bacon for the both of them, he looked up as he walked in. He couldn't help but smile at the creased t-shirt and bed hair.

"Afternoon, Cas."

He frowned slightly, rubbing his eye and sitting down sluggishly.

"It's six o'clock, man. I just got back from work." He put a bacon sandwich down in front of him, Castiel started to eat.

"I'm sorry."

Dean sat opposite him, eating as well. "Nothing to be sorry about, it's a free country."

As Castiel ate his skin crawled slightly. He frowned and looked over his shoulder at the locked door. Dean followed his gaze, trying to think of how to escape that conversation.

"Dean, is there a demon in that room?"

That was not what he had been expecting. "What?"

"I may not be an angel, but I can still feel when evil is near... and something evil is in that room."

Dean jumped up and ran over to the locked door. He knew Crowley had other motives, but stealing the blade? What did he really expect to come from it? It was useless without the mark. He unlocked it and went inside, turning on the light and looking around. He was expecting to see him ripping up the floor boards and grinning like the smug bastard he was, but the room was empty. Dean frowned, walking further in and looking around. Castiel had followed him.

"Oh." he said quietly, scanning the room and taking in all the weapons and jars of bone and various animal organs.

Dean slowly turned, focusing on him. "Did you lie to me to just get in here?"

Castiel was quiet for a moment, then looked away.

"What, seriously?!" Dean folded his arms, shocked and disappointed in Cas. Where had all the trust gone?

"I wasn't lying, Dean. I do feel evil in this room... just not from a demon." He looked down at the floor boards he was standing on. "What's under here?"

Dean sighed, walking out the room. "What do you think?"

Castiel watching him go in horror. "Dean! You kept it?"

"Of course I kept it! What else was I supposed to do?"

"Throw it back into the sea like Cain! Keep it as far away from you as possible!"

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, he didn't want to have to explain this to Cas. He didn't want to talk about the first blade ever again. "It's in a case that is warded against demons and angels and everything else you can ward against. I can't get at it even if I wanted to, which I don't by the way."

"Then why can't the chest go in the sea? Just to be safe."

"I might need it!"

Castiel felt cold with fear for Dean. "In what circumstance would you ever need the blade? There are always other options."

Dean didn't feel angry, but the guilt of what he'd done trickled back into his conscious mind. "I know what I did to you was-"

Castiel waved his hands and shook his head to cut him off. "Stop. Dean, just stop. You have to move on from that."

Dean looked at him incredulously. "Are we just not going to even talk about it?"

"It doesn't need to be talked about."

"I hurt you, Cas!" Their eyes met and Castiel saw all the guilt and the pain in his eyes. All the dark and messy emotions he had that he kept pushed down.

"Sam is on that list too... You hurt a lot of people, Dean. We all have." He sighed, trying to tell him that his guilt was misplaced. The blade amplified his emotions making frustration into murderous rage.

"Yeah and he's not here, so why are you?"

Castiel looked at him in silence for a few moments. He wanted to tell him about the way he felt around him. Even when he had the mark, Cas felt safe around him. He felt like he was home.

Dean shook his head, sighing. "You put too much faith in me, Cas, and you picked the wrong guy. I'm always going to let you down."

"That's what you're supposed to do, Dean." He closed the distance between them, standing close to him. "You do something wrong and I give you a second chance. I will give you a million second chances before I give up on you."

They looked at each other for a moment, a feeling of solidarity passing between them.

"So please, please get rid of that blade."

Dean stepped away from him, the solidarity turning into betrayal. He felt like Cas was using words he knew would calm him to manipulate him into getting the blade. Didn't Cas think he was strong enough to resist it?

"No, Cas... No." He turned away, grabbing his coat and heading out towards the Impala.

"Dean, Dean, where are you going?" Cas followed after him, stopping on the porch.

"Out! Or do you want me to throw myself into the sea as well?"

"That's not what I meant."

Dean opened the door to the car and paused, looking at him. "Wasn't it?" he gritted his teeth.

"You're not the blade, Dean."

"No, but it's a part of me now, Cas. That's something you could never understand." He got into the car and drove away. Castiel watched him go and sighed, maybe Dean was still lost.

Dean sat at the bar in town. An undrunk glass of whiskey on the bar in front of him, he looked at it for a while, and then picked it up and downed it. The familiar warmth it gave him, soothed the tension out from the backs of his shoulders. He exhaled slowly, ordering another one. Someone sat down next to him and he didn't have to look to know who it was.

"What now?"

Crowley didn't look at him, just caught the attention of the barman. "Gin and tonic, thanks."

When they both had their alcohol, they drank in silence for a good few minutes. Dean turned towards Crowley, looking at him.

"I think I get it."

Crowley looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm the child stuck in the middle of a messy divorce. You're the good for nothing dad, Cas is my cotton wool and cookies mum and both of you are fighting for my affection. Right?"

Crowley laughed slightly. "That sounds about right." He nodded, drinking his gin. "I'm not here to make you do anything you don't want to, Dean. I get that you're trying to live a normal life and I should respect that."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Wow, Crowley. That's pretty big of you."

Crowley shrugged, smiling slightly.

"If it wasn't a complete load of bullshit."

The demon's face fell, and he sighed. "You should have more faith in people."

Dean looked down at his whiskey before drinking some. "Yeah... right..."

Crowley looked over at him, frowning slightly. "Trouble in paradise?"

Dean knew what he was up to, but for some reason he just didn't care. "He wants me to get rid of the blade."

"How can you? The blade is a part of yourself, that's like asking you to cut your arm off!"

Dean nodded in agreement. "I know... I wish he'd understand that. I thought that maybe with him living with me, it would help. Then maybe Sam could come back as well and I'd rebuild my family."

"Mama Moose and papa angel, huh?"

"It's just when he's talking about what I should and shouldn't do, and what is and isn't a danger to me it just... it remind me of dad. He was always going on about protecting Sam. That was the only thing that mattered. I wasn't his son, I was his solider."

"And you're tired of being a solider?"

Dean looked at him. "I don't think I know how to be anything else."

Crowley looked at him for a moment and then sighed. "Dean... the only person who controls what you do now, is you. Daddy Winchester is gone, Sam is doing okay on his own, he doesn't need a bodyguard anymore. Castiel only has heaven's business in mind, he always has. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to, but if you wanted to come back and work with me... you've got my number."

He finished his drink and patted his shoulder before heading out. Dean finished his drink and ran his fingers through his hair, thinking to himself. He weighed up both offers. If he threw the blade away and someone got hurt when he could have done something about it, he'd never forgive himself; but if he didn't throw it away Castiel would leave and he'd be alone again. If he went back to Crowley, being alone wouldn't matter to him and he'd be free again, but he would never be able to see Sam or Cas again. He sighed and did the only thing he could think of...

He ordered another drink.