Disclaimer: Not mine, no profits. Warnings: may contain small spoilers, AU and probably a really bad plot-twist-ending with a small "crossover". Some crewd language. Mentions of Dean/Castiel with brief details.

"An angel was murdered?" Bobby asked, his brows lowered in a sign of his perplexity. He scratched a part of his head underneath his hat and sighed, pacing the floor of his study since the boys had called him. "Are you sure, Dean?"

"We do have our very own angel with us again, Bobby," greeted him from the other end. "And it is rather obvious."

"Well, that's no reason to get snarky with me, boy," he hissed. "This is really atypical behaviour since the whole entire mostly peace-on-earth after Lucifer is all I meant. Have you figured out when it happened most likely yet, or even more importantly, who?"

He heard a sigh and some crinkling noise; Dean must be moving to another area in the house. The sound of a bad connection increased to a level where it just begins to be annoying. "No, just that it was a demon of some sort. But we have other news...Castiel can't sense demons anymore. I'm willing to bet he can't sense evil at all, Bobby,"

"What kind of poppycock are you trying to sell me? An angel who can't sense demons-" he paused. "Are you high again?"

"It was once, Bobby, once! And I was depressed-" Bobby chuckled at his aggravated tone. "Oh, real funny. This is serious, we need to find out who did this."

"Is that you talking or is that Castiel?" Bobby asked in complete earnest. He didn't receive an automatic reply and he pushed on with a bit more disappointment and bite in his tone. "Did you even sort things out with him, Dean?"

"Yes," Dean bit out petulantly. There was a pause. "Sort of. It's not like it's really important right this very minute, okay? I'm sure we can hone it down to specifics in no time."

"Dean, you should know better than-"

"I can handle myself around him. I'm fine, Bobby, I'll be fine. Trust me."

Bobby reluctantly conceded with a sigh and sat down behind his desk. "I'm just worried about you Dean; you two are like sons to me and a lot has happened already today, you don't need to strain yourself."

"I know, Bobby," he sounded exhausted; and he probably was, since he didn't argue or make some comment about chick-flick moments.

"It's late, Dean, why don't you come home and we can talk more about the case from here?"

"Yeah...come home..." There was a few seconds of silence before he hung up and Bobby stared at his phone for a longer time afterwards. "God help that boy," he muttered.

Dean slowly removed the cell phone from his ear and folded it in half. Home always had a different meaning for him. For the longest time it was the house where his mother died. Then he really didn't consider anywhere his home. He used to think that maybe Lisa could be his home, but more recently, a year ago, Castiel had radiated his sense of the meaning of home. Being with Castiel used to be when he was truly at peace, no matter where that was, and wasn't that the true meaning of a home?

He slouched against the house's remaining wall-frame and wondered briefly who had considered this place a home, if anyone had. It seemed unlikely with the condition it was in now, but someone had to have loved it. Everything had to belong to someone before it could be abandoned or forgotten. He pressed his fingers into a crack in the wall, tapping them there idly and sighed.

"This house reminds me of you, Dean," Castiel said, making him jump and cut himself on the jagged wood.

"Shit," he responded, pressing down on the tip of his fingers before popping them in his mouth. He looked back at his intruder. "What are you doing here?" he slurred, distinctly remembering he entered the room to get away from the others.

The angel moved closer, ignoring the question, and took Dean's fingers out of his mouth. "I apologize for causing you pain, will you at least let me heal it?" Dean faintly recognized that he was nodding a response and licked his lips as he watched the healing light come from the angel's own hands. It gave him a faint tingle for the few seconds it was sustained and he released a shaky breath when Castiel removed his hand. He stared into deep, blue eyes, for the longest time trying to obey their unofficial ruling and not snog the hell out of him.

"What are you doing here?" he repeated once he remembered how to function again. Breathing normally came right after that.

"I was looking for you," he answered this time, already sounding guilty of something. The blue eyes looked away and Dean blinked to finally clear himself. "I can't stand being around Samuel, he keeps giving me these glances and shuffles around a lot. I don't understand him. When I'm near you," the eyes returned to his face. "Everything makes a little more sense, a little more at peace." Dean watched him swallow, fixating on his exposed throat, and caught his eyebrows narrow in confusion, anger.

"I am sorry, I am having difficulties in remaining strictly comrades. I should go," he started to dip his head as if he was giving Dean a little goodbye-bow.

"Wait," Dean whispered, unable to raise his voice in fear of ruining the moment as his brain caught up to him. "What did you say earlier?" He could have sworn Castiel blushed, but he turned away too quickly to be sure.

"It was nothing of relevance," he said quickly, almost tripping over the words. He couldn't believe how nervous and self-doubting he was feeling right now. He was an angel, doing God's Work no less, he shouldn't even know what self-doubt was! 'I seem to be speeding through every human emotion possible on earth.' Castiel quickly shifted his glance back at Dean for a moment. 'Maybe it's just Dean's influence...but what then could be my Duty?' That question left a bitter taste in his mouth and more questions than he wanted to ever know. It wasn't an angel's place to question holy authority, but only to serve in the name of the Lord. Even if it resulted in death.

'It must simply be the death of a brethren reaching my nerves,' he eventually decided upon as a conclusion even though he knew that that wasn't completely it.

"What was it?" Dean insisted this time, placing his previously wounded hand on Castiel's shoulder and unknowingly banishing away every thought in the angel's head. He focused so much on Dean and the feel of Dean that he almost lost all of his bearing.

He heard a long sigh and saw the angel hang his head as he mumbled the answer. "I said that this house reminds me of you,"

"Why?" he asked after a moment of deliberating on whether or not he actually wanted to hear the answer. His throat felt suddenly dry and raspy as he realized that it wasn't about the answer, it was about what he would discern the meaning behind it to be.

"I was listening to your thoughts; I couldn't help it, they seem to call to me," he amended seeing Dean's gaze harden. "And I realized that the way you described the house was the same way you, harshly, describe yourself: cold, empty, abandoned, lonely. I wish I knew what happened to...us to make you feel this way."

"No, you don't...you don't Cas, you would hate me." Dean said almost immediately following his words, pulling away from the angel sub-consciously. Castiel silently mourned the loss of contact. "I never deserved you anyways,"

A sudden flash transported Castiel into what seemed one of his memories. He watched Dean preparing for some onslaught with Bobby right by his side, guns loaded and knives ready, in some sort of bunker. Lightning flashed and the doors sprung wide open revealing himself to be entering the facility. He nearly smiled at the expression on both of their faces, the fear in their eyes at his display of power. But as the light bulbs reacted to his presence, he caught something in the glare and stared uncomprehendingly.

There was something different about himself then, something that he was missing now. Was it confidence? Was it knowing exactly what he had to do on Earth and having complete Faith in what he was told? Could this all be due to Dean's influence; but if so, why would he be required to stay close to something so corrupting to his nature?

The Breaths attacked him violently, eating away at his insides and producing a screeching noise that rendered him unable from focusing on anything but his pain. 'This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong' he chanted inside his head gritting against the electric spasms created, but it only made things worse. He was sure he was screaming along with the screeches now but there would be no way he could hear it. He didn't understand why Anna would do this to him. How she could do this to him. What would be the point of it unless-

He closed his eyes and prayed that it wasn't true. Anna was the only angel that believed in him to any worth and if she didn't trust him to stay on the path...

Something was very wrong.

He opened his eyes and the pain had finally died down, however reluctantly, so he could return to the scene before him. Some other Force was intervening here on his behalf. There would be time later to think on that though.

Bobby had been sedated by his past self and he and Dean were involved in a serious conversation, no less than a foot away from each other. "Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?" Dean was still the same. He shook his head and stepped forward at the same time his counterpart was moving. Apparently, so was he.

"Good things do happen, Dean," he heard himself say, though he sounded much more rough and impersonal. This must be their first time meeting. He could tell how guarded he was just from that.

"Not in my experience," Dean said with complete certainty. But the worst part was the gleam of reliving Hell everyday so clear and visible in his eyes as he said that.

He must have seen that somewhat by the way he tilted his head to the side with sadness as he spoke. "What's the matter?" He paused just for a moment, obviously scrying the top of his thoughts, and continued with a softer, knowing tone. "You don't think you deserve to be saved."

That was right on the spot, it had to be; even Dean couldn't deny that. So he lowered his head, kept his eyes out of sight. "Why'd you do it?"

"Because God Commanded it," he had said without hesitation. But then he paused and licked his lips slightly and Castiel saw the first start of a connection between the two of them. It was almost like they were destined to be together or at least fated to be near perfect opposites to the other.

A sad sort of anger trickled slowly in him, pooling into a sliver of a taste at the bottom of his stomach. Yes, he was angry that Dean was denying this for whatever reason that suited him; but it wasn't enough to be angry at him. Dean had to feel it as well. It was a bond that transcended all normal conventions, bridged the gap between Heaven and Earth and resonated deeply within each other. He would have to somehow convince Dean of this, teach him not to fear it. And he felt purely justified by the next words, mentally agreeing with himself in this newer context, that came out of his past self's mouth. "Because we have Work for you."

This was his Mission. It had to be.

He felt himself be pulled out of that memory and composed himself for a moment before he said anything to Dean. He was still a little shaken up after everything that happened just then. But even with that moment, his words held an extra bite that he didn't quite intend on.

"It seems that what ever the scenario, Dean, the Castiel inside your head always hates you. Maybe you should start to think about the one in front of you instead," Before Dean could think of a response, his angel was gone; almost as if he had dreamed the entire encounter. It was almost better if he had actually dreamed it, certainly better if his entire life had been one bad nightmare. Then all he would have to do is wake up for everything to be ok again.

He looked at his healed fingers, torn between feeling jealous of their clean slate and feeling stupid for feeling that way. Torn between his present self and his past self. Dean flexed his fingers and smiled at the thought of what his past self would say at his behaviour now. He wouldn't get it; the newer, desperate, exhausted him. Old Dean would have gotten that disgusted, betrayed look and demand to know what the hell happened to make him give up like this. Never mind ruining the whole balance of the world and whatnot, Old Dean would set out to fix things, actually would be able to set them right again.

'Which is exactly what I wish I could do, wish I knew how to do.' He rubbed his forehead and sighed. They were all tired- that was it. This was all a product of emotional exhaustion that strained even Sammy. Maybe they really should just return to Bobby's. It would only be a bunch of dead-ends here anyways at this point.

"Do you need to sleep?" Castiel blinked at the question like it was a physical object in his face obstructing his view of Dean. It was a fair question, he supposed, even though he had to actually stop and think about it.

"What?" became his only intelligent response after a long pause.

"What's your deal? Are you like half-human at this point or pretty much full- fledged angel?" Dean asked this time, starting to get a little antsy.

"I understand that even less," he actually said without lengthy measure this time.

"Dean, stop freaking out and come eat. If Cas needs to sleep then the couch is always welcome, you don't need to fuss over it," Bobby called out, shaking his head. "And Sam, stop doing whatever you're doing with the lap-top. Trying to get you two to eat once in awhile shouldn't be this hard. Especially for boys your age,"

Dean hovered about, eyeing Castiel and then the kitchen, with his mouth open and waiting to make a retort. He was half-tempted to say "I'm not freaking out. Do I look like I'm freaking out?" but that was obviously detrimental so he settled with a long, drawn-out "Fine. Fine, I'll eat." He even made motions towards entering the kitchen before stopping and confronting the angel again. "Do you need to eat?" he asked, a bit more gentle and less sudden this time around.

"Dean, just eat." Sammy said, shutting his computer down on the table by the couch and laughing to himself. Dean still glared at him anyways before rubbing his face. "I need a cheeseburger. And an apple pie," he muttered. Bobby just shook the white bag at him, opting for a non-verbal response this time.

Castiel watched them all gather around the table and begin their meal before popping over next to Dean to inspect this food that was previously offered to him. His shoulders tensed almost immediately and Castiel watched his hunched form with a little of that anger residue appearing in the way he gazed. Bobby shared a meaningful look with Sam who shook his head silently. "Just watch," he muttered. "Let them battle it out."

"Are you sure?" Bobby asked, eyeing Dean warily. Sam only nodded, taking a bite out of his salad.

"Do you want something?" Dean eventually sighed at the hovering angel. He turned around in his chair and stared at Castiel for a moment, feeling the tension reach its boiling point. Being around Castiel was starting to make him paranoid. Among other things.

He paused, clearly watching the situation and adjusting his temperament. He gave Dean a bemused glance, leaning closer until his face was barely inches away from Dean's and his body strained against the wood of the chair. "I would like a taste of human food," he said simply, listening carefully to the heartbeat of his charge and watching his face for any slight changes.

Dean watched him back just as thoroughly and then cleared his throat. This was a challenge. He gave his usual cocky smile that he hadn't worn in too long and shifted his body away from Castiel in a more relaxed pose. "Go ahead, find something that isn't claimed yet," he said, returning to his burger in front of him and feigning nonchalance. Castiel reached out before he could take a bite out of it, snatching his right wrist and directing it towards his mouth. Dean's breath hitched pleasantly, his pupils dilating as they searched the confines of memories lost to the angel, and his hand trembled just so. But the sweetest thing was the faint pick-up in speed of his heartbeat. The one thing that no one, not even Dean, could truly deceive. Dean just had to relearn it the hard way.

He made sure that Dean's dark eyes stayed locked in his own as he looked over his left shoulder to see him take one glorious bite out of his food. He hadn't intended for the cheeseburger, as it was called, to be so good. But it was all the better since he wasn't sure that he could fake an agreeable response. His heartbeat spiked phenomenally anyways.

'Oh, holy hell...' Dean closed his eyes, barely restraining the urge to moan out loud. His lips just might have his teeth marks in them permanently. But -good god!- was it the most sensual thing he could ever think of at this moment in time. First, the ol' staring-creepily-at-each-other-without-blinking contest and then the way Castiel practically gave his sandwich a blow job right in front of him. And then that moan. Where the hell did that moan come from?

Fuck. His shivers had shivers. His control was ready to drop to sub-sub-zero levels. All he wanted to do was take Castiel and throw himself on Bobby's dining table and break it this time.

He opened his eyes slowly, half-lidded, just as his hand and cheeseburger was returning to him. He remembered that night he took Castiel out to properly wine and dine him very clearly.

"Dean. What is this?" He loved it when his angel was so confused. Castiel kept looking around at all the people that were trying to be subtle about staring and whispering at them and then back at him with his puppy-face and head tilt. Dean reached out to cover his hand, fueling the volume of the whispers, and smiled. A genuine smile, the kind that only Castiel could pull out of him.

"I-I've been thinking about what you've said," he said quietly after a cough. It wasn't the easiest thing for him to admit, especially after having treated Castiel the way he did. You don't do that to a person. More so an angel. And he was sufficiently embarrassed to have to admit that he was a douche bag in that regard. But he had to carry on.

"And you were right. I need to appreciate you more, I need to show you that. I'm no good at all of these emotions running inside me, and I really hate doing those sappy boyfriend things with all of the, um, you know. But it's not an excuse," he added hastily at the darkening look in those bluer-than-blue eyes. So impossibly blue and all his. "It's a warning that it will take time for me to be what you want, what I want to be for you."

"I know you've been trying," Castiel said, softer than he had ever spoken before. He took his blue eyes away to gaze at the table, his tackled hand sliding, falling into his lap with them. It made Dean's eyes mist and a lump form in his throat. What a monster he was that Cas couldn't even stand his touch anymore. "And you know just what you've done. There is no reason for you to do any of this when it was much more efficient to simply tell me at home, in private."

The last two words cut more than he thought they would coming from Castiel's mouth. He winced visibly. He couldn't understand why he would ever want to hide their relationship; but that was then, this was now. To quote Cinderella, he didn't know what he had until it was gone. At least there was no hiding the faint pleased blush he saw creep into his angel's cheeks. "Yes there is," he heard himself rasp. Those lovely eyes came back. God, he missed the way those eyes would look at him. "You want it. You want to be here, out in public, out to the world. I know I've been doing it wrong; it's as hard for you as it is for me, and you haven't once complained. Cas," he shook his head. "God, Cas, I abused you and you were an angel about it all, no pun intended."

He paused to admire the lowered-brow-unhappy-pout that was given to him at that comment and his pearly whites gleamed more than he wanted them to. Nothing ever went as planned with this one. "We are in a relationship. A real, working, girly-love-fest relationship. That means I have to stop being so god-damn selfish all the time. It's your turn. What do you want from me?"

There was a brief bout of time where, as Castiel's face darkened and became unreadable, he thought he had gone mad. A little panic and fear jump started his heart seeing that all-too-familiar gleam coat his blue eyes. He blinked and regretted his decision for that nano-second only. As he re-opened his eyes, a calm washed over him feeling suspiciously-wonderfully like forgiveness. He knew what Castiel was going to ask of him and he knew he could handle it. His angel had Heaven's version of All-State hands, even when he was spitting holy fire at him in anger.

"I want to Punish you, Dean," that gravely voice told him. He felt his Adam's apple bob as he nodded and was whisked away.

Bobby's table was a hard surface to thump naked flesh on, even if the smack from the two surfaces made a delicious wave of power flow into him from Castiel's hard arms. Sometimes he missed the foreplay of undressing when his lover had the ability to blink away everything.

He definitely didn't miss the feeling of pure angel hammering away at his insides, though. Even if he had a nasty friction-burn on his back for weeks. Or if he had to endure the looks Bobby gave him as he sprayed everything in his house with harsh disinfectants so vehemently it was like he suspected demons were hiding in his furniture. Sam's pure unadulterated horror the next morning when he found them still collapsed on top of the table they used to eat food off of helped too.

"Cas," his voice came out much more huskier than he ever wanted it to in the presence of Sammy. He coughed apologetically, feeling his face warm out of more than one reason now, and cast his eyes to the floor. "Um, Cas, can we...let's go upstairs for a moment," he blurted out, grabbing the angel by the hand and practically ran out of the room. Dean couldn't even make it five paces past the door before he spoke.

He brushed his fingers through his hair, letting go of the hand he held tight ignoring how comforting it was to him. "You...you," he sighed. "You told me to stop thinking of the Cas I knew, the one that I made up in my mind," he muttered lowly.

Castiel nodded, wondering what caused such a shift so suddenly. Wondering if it was the same reason that made him feel so alive right now. "I did."

"You sort of told me the same things before," he mumbled some more. He walked toward Castiel and reached for his hand again. With only an inch or so between them, he took Cas' hand with both of his and molded the hand so his two fingers were unfolded. He tugged them without resistance and pressed them to his forehead, seeing the angel's eyes widen at the implications. "I want you to see it; it explains...somewhat, what... what happened to us," he whispered.

Castiel nodded again almost without helping himself and saw the images flash through his mind that had flashed through Dean's just recently. He took a step back and breathed for a few moments, furiously examining every detail within that moment in time. "What had you done to...abuse me as you said?" he asked cautiously, unsure if he really wanted to know now.

"I...I treated you unfairly," Dean choked out like it were razors scraping against his throat instead of words. "You were the first, um, guy I ever," he sighed. "I freaked out. A lot. But you just rode it out and waited for me to accept love, to accept you," he said softly, glancing back up into his eyes at the end.

"How long will it take you to accept me again?" the Angel murmured, pressing their foreheads together so he could see his breath tickle Dean. The human shivered and made a whimpering noise that belonged more to a starving, freshly-beaten dog.

"I accept you, God, Castiel! I accept you," Dean's left hand wavered in place as though it couldn't make up its mind. Castiel could feel it ghosting on his cheek-skin and crossed his eyes just to stare at it encouragingly.

He held his breath even.

But the hand fell onto his shoulder instead and the air hissed out almost on its own accord. Castiel turned his eyes back on Dean's face with a little more displeased anger in them, waiting for Dean to explain himself. "I accept you, I really do Cas. But I can't take you," he delighted in the naughty blush of lust that bloomed across Dean's mind and face. "Not when you don't have...the truth so you can make a...reasonable decision."

Castiel pulled away with a sigh, already knowing that he missed simply just the contact with Dean like it was a Truth of God. But Dean was shaking like a leaf already and he was afraid that he'd melt. Though that had a certain appeal since it would be all because of him that Dean fell apart. That had to mean there was something Dean felt for him in return.

"You want me to wait until I've regained the entirety of my memories," he stated like it was nothing. Dean felt his mouth dry up at the possible notions that meant.

"Yeah," he cursed himself for the way his voice cracked.

"Why can't you just show them all to me like you did before?" For a second, it almost was a feasible option. Oh, won't Sammy be proud he was weighing his options carefully.

Then again, Sammy definitely wasn't anywhere near proud about the moment that caused all of this.

"No," Dean said, shaking his head and dropping his hand finally. He hated how it just had to feel so comfortable, so right. God, the world just hated him. "Because you'd view my memories with all the emotion attached to them. It would be-"

"-Biased. Yes, I understand," Castiel nodded, his voice taking on a slightly uncharacteristically dark tone. "Because you have obviously been so unbiased previously," He turned and just left the room, left Dean.

Dean knew that that was an extremely low blow, for an angel no less, and it knocked the wind out of him like it was a real physical blow. But the worst part of it was the look in his eyes just before he left.

It was almost exactly the same look he was fearing that he would get before being rejected for the final time. It reminded him too much of when he walked out on Castiel.