Dean seems to be coping with yesterday far better than I expected. He is more active, and my watch through the night was uneventful.

I find myself longing to approach him but I am hesitant. The length of time I have been within my vessel has forced upon me more human emotions than I thought possible. There is still so much I do not understand. I have stayed in the darkness as not to interfere with Sam and Dean's interactions, as I watch for signs in Dean of weakness.

For this is my greatest fear.

I have given him everything to halt the apocalypse and turned my back on my family. Through this, and the severed ties, the anger against the angels, he has become my family.

Sam is at his laptop and discovers something suspicious in a town about fifty miles away from their hotel.

"So get this- a string of near-death experiences in a Catholic hospital in Northridge. Kids, from a few years old to thirteen. They flat lined, and when they came to each of them say that they were being tortured when a brightness pulled them back, and then they woke up. What do you think?"

Dean sighed and stood from his place at the table.

"Sounds weird. Near death experiences aren't usually our thing, But still, little kids don't go to hell. Tortured, huh?"

"There are some reports of patients' parents having intense chills around the nurses there. Could be demons. And two of the kids came back with burn scars."

"But that doesn't explain the bright light. Were the burns handprints? Angels don't often screw with stuff like that, it's small game."

"No handprints," Sam said. He pushed the laptop towards Dean. "They look like… animal stripes."

"Now that is friggin' weird."

Sam smiles. "So you're with me this time."

Dean looks up and meets his eyes. "Yeah." He is quiet for a moment but finds his voice again. " I had a reminder that life's pretty alright."

Dean turns his gaze to the spot near the bathroom door, where I waited for him the day previous. I feel something ripple through my vessel's chest. Dean breaks his stare and packs his things slowly. An old tartan shirt, spare socks, half a case of beer, and two fake credit cards that bear the name "Michael Walker" are zipped inside. Sam checks out with the room's phone and the two head out to the car.

I enter the room just as I hear the Impala engine turn over. Each time the leave a motel, I check the room for oddities. Today I find none, but Dean has left one of his silver rings on the bathroom sink.

I take it and roll it around my vessel's fingers. The metal is highly reflective and cold, and for a moment, I see a flash of green shine back at me. I swipe a towel from the linen closet for the next motel they are at. It never hurts to have a spare.

I slip the silver band onto a finger on my left hand. I shall return it to him later.

I would much rather speak to Dean about the events of the previous night, but he is on a mission and I cannot fathom interrupting for something of this nature. I feel as if I should talk with Bobby, so I go to him quickly.

He is sitting in a plush brown armchair with a drink that smells strongly of pine.

"Bobby," I hear myself say.

He jumps slightly. Three large drops of the pine liquid slosh from the cup and land in his lap. It stains his denim jeans with dark spots, though the liquid takes more than a moment to soak through.

"Dammit, Cas. What the hell are ya doin' here?" He says as he brushes the liquid away. It is futile, however, since it has already soaked through. He sets the drink down on the end table to his right.

"I need to discuss… a personal matter."

"Don't you usually do that with them boys?" He adjusts his seated position and crosses his arms across his chest in a protective gesture. I can tell I have made him uncomfortable.

I thought for a moment. "Yes. But not this one. Now is not a good time for them."

Bobby lifted one eyebrow and inhaled bitterly. "Angels don't got personal problems, Cas.

"I know. Not usually. But I have long inhabited this vessel and I believe his… emotions are beginning to blend into my consciousness." I realize that I am taking long pauses between words. Speaking of matters such as this is so foreign to me.

Bobby's eyes grow wide with understanding. He leans forward and I notice his voice becomes exponentially more quiet.

"Castiel. Is this about… sex…?"

Perhaps he did not have as much understand as I perceived.

"No. But I am experiencing… feelings. I am not sure how to describe them."

Bobby rolls his head slightly and eyes me carefully. I am unsure how to discuss this without revealing too much.

"Well, Cas, that's, uh… natural. For someone with a vessel of that age. Did he have a family or somethin'? A wife? Girlfriend?"

I am overcome with guilt and cannot tear my eyes from the dusky carpet. "He did. Once. But… I fear I may have damaged that relationship."

"Ah." Bobby falls silent. He picks up the pine liquid and takes a deep drink. He sighs as he sets the glass down once again, where it clinks against the treated wood of the table. "Cas. I gotta be honest with you. I don't think you really understand what you're feelin', but that ain't no reason to ignore 'em. Your feelings are just as normal as the next guys. So… you know. Explore. Or somethin'. You've been on earth with them boys long enough, it's about time you did something for yourself."

"We do have a profound bond."

"That's a great step in the right direction."

"Thank you, Bobby. I am significantly more at ease with my current predicament."

"Uh, well, my pleasure, I guess. Good luck."

I feel a tug in my mind that signifies Dean's prayer. The light is strong outside, but Sam and Dean are hundreds of miles away. I had nearly forgotten the time.

I arrive in a motel room that is far less comfortable than the one the two had previously chosen. Dean is sprawled out across one of the two double beds, with three pillows splayed across the floor. He has not been sleeping well.

I think about waking him as soon as possible to speak. Bobby's council had set me much at ease, and there were many things I wished to say to Dean. I sit next to him on the bed and monitor his breathing. The softness of each breath pushes its way from his lungs through his gently opened mouth.

The longer I stare, the stronger these feelings become. I am his protector. He is my family. I know in my soul I would do anything to insure his safety.

His eyelids flicker and he makes a whimpering sound in his sleep. He moves gently beneath the single jersey sheet and whispers, "..stiel."

I have never heard Dean speak my name in his sleep before. He whimpers again and I decide it would be best to wake him. I place my hand over the burn mark on his shoulder and whisper his name.

He stirs, slowly at first, barely opening his eyes, but he rouses when my faces comes into his focus.

"…Cas? Am I still…" He is groggy and touches his chest, confused. His bleary eyes open and meet mine. "It's cool, I'm awake. What's up…?"

I am unsure of myself. "Dean. We need to speak about the events that took place yesterday."

"You mean-"

"Yes. The shower." He quickly covers my mouth with his hand as I hear Sam, in the bed opposite the room, stir and mumble in his slumber. I speak into Dean's hand. "Don't worry. Your brother will not wake before the morning."

He pulls his hand away and stares up at me. The green in his eyes is incredibly bright against the darkness of the motel room.

"So. You wanna talk."

"Yes," I reply. "I have been having… emotions. And I feel that we should discuss them."

Dean's voice is flat. "Emotions."

"Yes. They concern you."

Dean pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and bites it momentarily. He opens his mouth to speak, but silences himself, and runs his tongue along the opening of his mouth.

There is a gentle stir within my belly that I have not felt before.

"Alright, Cas. Let's talk."

"We shall."

There is silence.

He pulls on the joints of his fingers and cracks them, one after another. I am growing fond of the sound. "What did happen last night? How did you end up in the shower with me?"

I inhale sharply. "You mentioned my name while in the shower. I did not… try to follow you. I simply was where you needed me to be."

He eyes me in disbelief. "Wait, so you think I needed you to be there?"

"Yes, Dean. Otherwise I would not have appeared."

Dean is silent again. I wonder if he disliked the kiss, or perhaps dislikes the thought of needing someone other than Sam around him.

"So… why did you kiss me?"

"I don't know."

More silence.

"Did you hate it?" I ask him. I am afraid to hear his answer.

"I don't… I thought I would."

"Did you?"

"…No."

I cannot help but smile. Dean will not hold eye contact with me. I lay my hand over his, which is stretched out next to this vessel's thigh.

"Dean. It's alright. I have sought council and I believe it is alright for me to… embrace the emotions I have."

Dean shrinks away from me and takes a wounded look upon him. "But what about me, Cas? You think YOU'RE confused? I can't even face Valentine's Day anymore because… I don't want to play the games anymore." His voice crackles in the end.

"So what do you want?"

"I don't know, man!" He is agitated. Again, today I have made someone I care for extremely uncomfortable. I pull my hand away and turn to stare through the window above Sam's bed.

I hear Dean sigh and sit up straight in his bed. It creaks under the weight of us both.

"I just need time, Cas. I don't know… what I need."

I can sense a tenderness fall inside his mind. I am overcome with a strange push- Jimmy. Again. I feel as if he is trying to punish me for hurting his family or at least trying to regain some semblance of closeness with another human being, but I sense his advances are only going to pain me further. I find myself turning, face to face with Dean, pushing myself closer to him. Our mouths are but inches apart.

"Dean. I am here to care for you in any way you need, even if you do not understand your own feelings."

He is pressed against the headboard and I feel his breath quicken. I am unsure if it is in fear.

"I guess… that's good to know…"

But his voice is lost within my mouth. Jimmy disappears as I press myself to Dean. This time, the kiss is more comfortable. Natural. The softness of his soul envelops me and I am at ease for the first time since I met him. Dean is not resistant, but instead lifts his arms and wraps them around me, pulling this vessel's form closer. His mouth parts against mine and encourages my own to do the same. We sit here, close and entwined, mouth to mouth, soul to soul for what feels like hours. He moves against me, and I lift this vessel's hands to feel the stubble along the line of his jaw.

Finally, we part and he whispers "Cas, I need to sleep… I've got a hunt in the morning…"

I am saddened to know that these moments are coming to a close.

I take this vessel's palm and brush it across Dean's creased forehead, erasing the sleeplessness from his mind and putting him to bed.

I rise and position the pillows beneath his head.

As I tuck him in, I hear the birds outside begin to sing, before the dawn, fighting for mates outside the window.

I realize I have not returned Dean's ring.