A/N: I am going on holiday soon or 'vacation' as they say stateside, so I am going to post two chapters everyday until then. There are 21 chapters.

"Man starts over again everyday, in spite of all he knows, against all he knows." ― Emil Cioran

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Castiel woke. His body was splayed across Dean's bed, stomach down, and a damp patch marred the sheet under his parted lips. He turned over and pulled himself up into a sitting position, lifting his hand to poke the crusty sleep out of the corner of his eyes. It was a very strange thing to have to do in the morning, as if human eyes were trying to seal themselves during the night. Castiel found it distasteful. He swung his legs out of the bed and looked around. His clothes were gone.

Bare feet padded down the cold hall floor towards the sound of a radio playing some of the rock music Dean preferred. He could hear Dean singing an occasional word to the nonsensical lyrics. Building a city out of rock and roll was impossible.

"Dude! Your hair!" Dean gasped as he looked up from a large bowl of whipped eggs, "Have you looked in a mirror this morning?"

Castiel shook his head. He ran a hand over his scalp. His hair did seem askew and a touch greasy, perhaps he should have used some of Dean's shampoo'n'conditioner bottle when he had stood under the shower the previous evening. "I will endeavor to correct it. May I borrow a razor also?" He could feel the beard growth under his fingertips when he rubbed his cheek.

"Never had to shave in heaven, huh?"

"This vessel... my body now... it was in stasis, but I have shaved and showered since my grace began to deplete." Castiel took a stool at the counter. "You were gone when I woke. Did you sleep?"

"Five whole solid hours. I have Sam's bag packed up and I've been online. Those medical websites need a salt and burn." Dean grinned and then looked at his watch, "You my friend have slept for almost nine hours."

Castiel chewed on the right side of his top lip as he thought about all he could have done in nine hours, but his body needed to sleep. It was unavoidable, and he admitted to himself that he felt better, more refreshed despite the crusty eye corners, substandard hair and raw hunger in his belly. "My clothes are missing."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Your clothes were filthy. Follow me."

Dean put down the bowl and walked out of the room. Castiel was clearly meant to fall in line, so he did. Dean took him a short distance down a corridor and opened a door revealing a small room lined with giant sized laundry machines.

"There." Dean pointed.

Castiel could see his clothes spinning inside the round glass window of one of the devices. "They are wet."

"Yes, being washed," Dean said patiently.

"I understand that, but will they be dry before we have to leave for Belleville?"

"Nope."

"What will I wear?" Castiel looked down at the wrinkled sleep tee and shorts.

"My clothes. Sam's a little large."

A smile broke across Castiel's face. He could keep pieces of Dean next to his skin. The day looked brighter and less filled with empty hours. "Can I wear your jeans with the ripped knee?"

"You like them hey?"

"Your body looks very appealing in them."

"What else?" Dean sounded slightly breathless and Castiel tilted his head at the change in mood.

"Your new shirt. I would like the plaid with the white background and brown toned lines, and your black t-shirt with the V-neck."

"You like those too?"

"Mmm, yes?"

"On me?"

"Yes Dean." Dean's voice was doing something to him. He had a warm feeling in his guts and a tightness that was nothing to do with his hunger. He wanted to take a step closer to him and press their lips and bodies together like they had the previous evening.

However Dean turned away and began walking back to the kitchen. "Sure. I'll give you a spare belt too. I don't want your pants falling down in the hospital." Dean let out a spluttering laugh, "You'd have to shout Pudding!"

Castiel pondered silently if Dean's mind worked in an unusual manner for a human, "Pudding?"

"Yeah man. Sheesh, You had to be there I guess."

Dean didn't explain further and Castiel filed the comment away to ask Sam later. They entered a small room with a brass plate on the door saying Pantry. There was a chest freezer and Dean pulled out a loaf of sliced bread. "Toast and eggs, Cas. It's all we have until we do a grocery run."

"I like eggs."

"Peachy then."

While Dean finished whipping up scrambled eggs and toasting the bread from frozen to hot under the grill, Castiel found some cutlery and plates.

The eggs were good and the toast hot and buttery. Castiel sighed at the first mouthful and Dean beamed back at him proudly.

"Tell me about your friend, Dean."

"Paul?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know what to say Cas. He is a good man."

"He is."

"You know that?"

"I do. He is a warrior but one of good heart."

"He reminds me..."

Castiel waited, silent and still, taking in the contours of Dean's face.

"He reminds me of Benny. He doesn't look like him or talk like him, but he..."

Castiel interrupted, "He cares for you."

Dean gave a single head shake and dropped his gaze, "Benny's gone, Cas. He went back for me. I asked him too much and he still went. I can't... tell you what I freaking feel when I think what he did for me. Do you think he knew?"

"That you loved him?"

Dean opened his mouth to deny it.

"Not romantic love, Dean. You loved him for who he was, for the way he watched out for us both in that place. He knew it."

"I hope so." Dean gritted his teeth. "I didn't burn him. I buried him deep."

"There is always a chance. I can't count how many times we have all died."

"Yeah. No more dying, OK Cas?"

"I will attempt to refrain from doing so." Castiel deliberately used more formal language to elicit the tension relieving eye roll. He knew Dean was thinking of Sam and was anxious to get to the hospital.

10.59am saw Castiel and Dean waiting at reception. Dean's hand kept grasping and loosening on Sam's duffel strap.

"Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Winchester." It was Dr Larson.

"Good morning." Castiel greeted. Dean said nothing but Castiel could feel the tension and his hand found Dean's free one.

"Your brother is awake."

Dean let out a long breath making Castiel realize he must have been holding it.

"Can we see him?" Castiel asked.

"Yes. I will walk with you. Sam has dangerously low iron levels. He is low on vitamins K and D, which is why his blood was not clotting properly. We are treating him as an auto-immune case. This means his body was attacking itself. However his symptoms do not fit neatly into any easy diagnosis."

Dean mouthed Demon-tablet-itis to Castiel.

"We are waiting on test results we have sent to University of Kansas's lab. At the moment we are treating him for aplastic anemia."

"What is that exactly?" Dean asked.

"The treatment? Blood transfusion for now. If the test results confirm the diagnosis we will start him on an immunosuppressant before he is discharged. We will want to see an improved blood count, no dizziness, no sign of fever, and a restored sleep pattern, before we let him go home."

"Good luck with the sleep pattern." Dean mumbled, and Castiel glared at him for the smart comment.

"We can aid Sam with pharmaceuticals to regulate his sleep but it would be better if his body can accept the need to rest."

"How long?" Dean asked.

"Hopefully, a matter of days, depending on how well he responds to treatment."

"Thank you Dr Larson." Castiel left go of Dean's hand to shake hers. He saw Dean looking down at his empty hand, as if he hadn't realized they had been linked during the walk to Sam's room.

"You are welcome, Mr. Lawrence. Come find me if you have any questions."

Sam was sitting up in the bed. His cheeks were still hollow and he still looked gaunt but the grey pallor was gone. He had an IV bag of blood on a stand dripping into his arm.

"Dean! Cas! Thank God. You don't know how bored I am." Sam smiled.

"Bored. Bored? Hey Cas? He's bored. Freaking bored. You nearly landed me in here with a coronary!"

Dean plunked the duffel on Sam's bed. Sam grabbed it and opened it looking through.

"Dean."

Castiel didn't know how Sam could make one word sound like a whine.

"What Sammy?" Dean was half laughing.

"You brought me things you like Dean!" Sam had a skin mag half out of the bag.

"So? I brought you clothes didn't I? You can change out of that sissy gown they have you in."

"Where is my laptop?"

Dean looked chastened. "In the bunker. I'll bring it tomorrow, Frances."

Sam chuffed a laugh. "Hey Cas. I understand you are my brother and that you have secretly married Dean."

Dean blinked at Sam.

"Ha ha! Dean. Nurses talk. It was a little confusing at first being asked about my 'hot' brother-in-law."

"Dean is hot." Castiel confirmed.

Sam lifted an eyebrow. "Are you wearing Dean's clothes?"

"Dean stole my suit and trench coat and put them on a wash cycle."

"Dude. I didn't steal them. I told you they were filthy. You can't go out smelling and looking like a homeless person." Dean pursed his lips, but the ex-angel knew there was no heat behind the words.

Sam pulled out his clean PJs and took his phone from Dean. "So you go back to the bunker last night? How is Kevin? What is the story with the angels?"

Dean pulled over the chair he had spent most of the previous day sitting in. He sat down and said "Kevin is gone underground again. I've alerted Garth's voicemail. Kevin may turn to him for a new place to hide. He took the angel tablet, whatever use that is going to be. Angels? They have crash landed all over the planet. Some in this hospital I believe. Lots of people injured by falling celestial dicks."

"Dean." Castiel interrupted, "they are, were, not all 'dicks'. We don't know what is happening. We were here until they insisted that we leave last night. Then we went home and Dean kissed me and we went to bed."

Sam's eyes widened and his bottom jaw dropped. Dean had turned his head away. Castiel didn't know if he was angry or amused.

"Dean kissed you? And you went to bed?"

"We did not have sexual relations last night but..."

"Whoa! Whoa!" Dean put up his hands, "I think we need some ground rules here. Sam does not get told intimate details of what happens in our bedroom."

"Your bedroom? I leave you both alone for one night!" Sam nodded very slowly, "What if I want to know details?"

Castiel realized Sam was teasing when Dean fake punched his brother and Sam called him a bitch and moaned about disturbing his IV and beating on an injured man. As they sat and talked Castiel saw Dean relax, tension leaving his muscles. Sam looked better and he seemed accepting of his and Dean's new level of bonding.

They were kicked out while Sam got a lunch, which seemed to be composed of white bread sandwiches and neon dyed jello. In the hospital cafeteria over their own white cheese subs and long coffees, Dean asked Cas if he wanted to take a quick run to the goodwill store. Castiel agreed and a half hour later found himself the owner of a new pair of boots (your prissy dress shoes won't do Cas), a couple of Henley's and plain tees, three single color and one grey check outer wear shirts (I am unsure about plaid Dean), jeans, khaki combats and a belt with a feather embossed buckle (I just like it Dean). He also got a vintage black leather aviator style jacket, which Dean had tried to stretch to fit his own frame without success.

On their way back to Sam, Dean got a text message from Paul asking them if they wanted to come to Concordia for supper the following night, or earlier in the gap in visiting hours. Paul was off and would cook.

Castiel thought letting someone else cook for Dean and allowing him to relax could only be a good thing and he said he would like that. Dean gave him a squinty look, as if he was trying to figure Castiel out, then shrugged. Once they had parked back at Republic County, Dean fired off a positive reply to Paul, saying they would see him after 5pm the next evening.

The afternoon with Sam passed slowly. Dean never left the room, but Castiel took a walk outside in the fresh air. He decided that he didn't like the smell of hospitals. He never had but previously he could just close off his vessel's olfactory sense. He found walking a pleasant slow method of getting from one place to another. It was what he had spent a lot of his time doing while he had hidden the angel tablet. He left the hospital grounds to give the brothers some time alone and found a convenience store within a few blocks. He was determined that this time he could improve his shopping technique. After the goodwill store he was down to his last few bills. He found another niggling reason to be angry with Metatron. He had taken him from the store in Lebanon, leaving all his money in front of the pie-less virgin. This time things were much better. He found a fully stocked bakery section and purchased three pieces of pie. He would let Dean decided who got which pie, when he was back at the hospital. Swinging his grocery bag along, Castiel felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Brother? Castiel is that you?"

Castiel turned, "Zuriel?"

Zuriel didn't look the best. His suit was rumpled and his tie undone. His normally perfect tightly curled hair was flat. "We are mortal, Castiel. All of us. What are we to do?"

"I don't know."

"Heaven is closed to us. Our wings, our grace." Zuriel couldn't hide his distress. Castiel found it profoundly disturbing to see Zuriel's vessel, his body, react in such a way.

"I don't have any answers. Metatron did it."

"He is Father's voice. Do you think Father planned this?"

"No. I do not know if he is even listening anymore. Zuriel you should live." Castiel cringed. He didn't want to repeat the speech Metatron had given to him, but what else was he to say.

"How? There is no one to tell us what to do. You could do it Castiel."

"I could not. I tried. Do you not remember?"

"We would follow you. Samandriel believed in..."

"Stop. Please stop. Zuriel we all have to do the best we can."

"Should we change the way we dress?" The former angel looked at Castiel's attire.

"Wear what you like, Zuriel. If I have one piece of advice it is to find out what you like and follow that, ensuring that we harm none in the taking of it."

"Have you found what you like?"

"I have. Here." Castiel pulled out a pen from his pocket and wrote Dean's phone number on the back of his grocery store receipt. "This is not my number, but if you are in dire need, I can be reached on it."

"Thank you. You have someone you are staying with? A human?"

"We are all human now, and yes I do. Dean."

"The righteous man." Zuriel was breathless, "I remember when you led the assault."

"I remember you smiting at my side." Castiel smiled even though the memory of those years in hell was grim, "Stay strong Zuriel. Do you need money?"

"No." Zuriel laughed, still the same musical lilt as in heaven. "I opened the wallet in my vessel's pocket. It was well filled."

"Take care Zuriel."

"You too Castiel."

Castiel didn't look back as he walked into the hospital grounds. He didn't want to be tempted to offer his former garrison comrade a bed for the night. Dean had said that the bunker was their home, but Castiel doubted that extended to offering refuge to homeless angels.

"Where were you?" Dean accused when he came back into the room, "It is almost five."

"Dean." Sam rolled his eyes, "He is allowed to leave to get some air."

"I brought pie." Castiel thought he had better start with the positive.

"And cake?" Sam asked.

"No. Should I have brought cake?"

Dean stood up and took the bag from him, "No cake. Cakes are for looooosers."

Sam just rolled his eyes.

"There's three pieces."

"Yes." Castiel sat on the end of Sam's bed. His feet were weary and his dress shoes were pinching him after the walk. "I purchased pecan, homemade apple and cherry custard. As you are the expert, I am leaving their allocation in your hands."

"That's me. Seeing as Sammy likes his nut granolas and frou frou salad dressings, pecan for you, Sam. If we had forks, we could have half apple, half cherry each Cas?"

"I will remedy the situation." Castiel ventured down the hall, to where two orderlies were beginning the dinner service. He took two plates and three forks with gratitude.

Sam was picking at his pie with his fingers and praising how much better it was than the hospital food. Dean had restrained himself and was waiting until Castiel came back, then he spilt the pies slices evenly between them. They sipped sodas from the vending machine and ate their treats until the orderlies reached Sam's room and kicked them out.

"Don't bother coming back for 7pm to 8pm Dean." Sam said.

"I'm not listening." Dean glared.

"You have to hang around for two hours to visit for one. It is dumb, and you are tired and I am tired and maybe I want an evening nap."

Castiel appreciated the way that Sam had turned that request around to make it sound beneficial to him, so that Dean would agree.

"OK Sam, but I'll be back at 11am."

"With my laptop?"

"With the freaking laptop." Dean conceded.

"Bye Cas. See if you can get him to pucker up more than once this evening."

"Seriously. Seriously Sammy. If you keep this up, we won't tell you anything."

"You never tell me anything remotely click flick, I am left to my own powers of deduction."

"Deduct this, jerk." Dean stuck one finger up at his brother and slipped out the door laughing.

"Bitch!"

Castiel relaxed on their journey home. Dean was in a good mood. He explained his pudding reference from earlier, looking a little disappointed that Castiel found it difficult to be amused at a wraith hunt in a psychiatric hospital. Castiel bit his lip. Dean was not intentionally hurtful and no doubt the parallel did not occur to him, but Castiel found it a little close to the bone after his own experience of taking on Sam's madness. Dean soon changed the subject making plans to drag one of the single wide closets into the corner of their bedroom for Castiel's new clothes and promising a trip to JCPenny so he could finish off his necessary items. Castiel presumed he meant briefs and socks.

They stopped at the virgin's convenience store in Lebanon. Castiel stayed in the impala for fear he might be banned. He had seen Dieter and Tessie banning people from the Grapevine and suspected he might not be a welcome return customer.

"Frozen pizzas, Cas?" Dean put a bag that also contained beer, milk and bacon in the back seat. "We'll have to do a real grocery run before Sam gets home. He will freak if there is not at least one shelf of the refrigerator full of green edibles."

Dean cooked the 'meat feast' pizza while Castiel chose a movie. He knew Dean liked to quote Star Wars and found a boxset in the as yet unpacked crate of videos, cassette tapes and DVDs.

"Star Wars: A new hope?" Castiel asked as Dean set the sliced pizza and two beers down on the table.

"Good choice." Dean said around a mouth of cheese and pepperoni.

The night progressed with them sitting then moving closer. Then at one point Dean's arm snaked behind Castiel's neck. By the time Obi Wan left Luke, Dean and Castiel were half sitting half lying across the big old sofa. When the Death Star exploded, Castiel gripped Dean's hand, and Dean responded by leaning down for a long deep kiss. Castiel moved his hand to Dean's hair and held him there. Desire uncoiled and Cas drove his tongue deeper, taking Dean's mouth more fully. Dean ground down and Castiel bucked up to meet him. Dean paused with his hand on the other man's zipper. Castiel could only grunt his assent and lifted his hips for Dean to let down his jeans. He nipped Castiel's lips as he pulled down his own trousers. Then his heated body was pressing down on Castiel again.

"So good, Dean."

"Yeah. I can make it better."

Castiel shut Dean up by tugging on his earlobe with his teeth and sinking his nails into his back underneath his layers of shirts.

"Fuck, Cas, claws man."

"Not sorry," Cas moaned as his fingers bit into Dean's back, "not letting you go."

It was urgent now. Dean's callused hand wrapped around Castiel's reddened cock, steadying its straining movement. When he ran a fingernail along the slit, Cas cried, "Oh more. More of that."

"Yeah, you like it." Dean's voice was dirty and sibilant.

"Dean."

"Fuck Cas, you're going come, you're going to come with only my hand on your dick and my nail scrapping you."

Castiel tugged Dean towards him, causing the hunter to lose his grip and fall against him. The slide of Dean's body across his cock was too much and he felt his eyes roll back and his body release.

"Dean, Dean..."

His breath was ragged and his temples pulsed. He opened his eyes looking into Dean's green ones, shining now with pleasure and desire. He looked down to where Dean's own cock slapped against their bellies, "You didn't?"

"Yeah not a synchronized swimming porno."

Castiel didn't know what he meant, but he knew what to do. He took the base of Dean's cock in his hand and squeezed, eliciting a moan. Satisfied he was proceeding correctly, he used his other hand to make fast jerking movements. Dean was panting. Castiel found his own breath shortening.

"Please, Cas."

Castiel squeezed harder then released his lower hand. He used it to wipe some of the spent come along Dean's bottom lip and then leaned up to lick it off. One more grasping movement and Dean's whole body quivered under Castiel's touch and his lover came.

Castiel thought 'I did this. I did this to Dean. I gave him pleasure,' and he felt sated and warm inside.