Dean felt his own features harden.

"No, Dad. Cas... Cas is my friend- he's been more like family to me than you have lately."

"Get out." Dean held his ground for a few moments.

"I'll be back in a few days, mom!" he shouted before stalking from the house.

Dean made it back to Cas's house-made it home- on auto pilot. His face a blank mask, he went inside and locked the door. He shed his shoes and padded softly to the bathroom door, which he also closed and locked. Then he sank to the floor, pressing his knees to his chest, burying his head in his arms. "I'm bad." he whispered to himself. "I'm a bed son. Bad person. He's right... I'm not normal." For a long time, Dean let his misery freely through him in the altogether-too-quiet house. He eventually lit of the thought of hurting himself. His heart squeezed and his blood ran cold, snapping his out of his depressed stupor. Realizing he was very stiff, Dean stood slowly, wincing as he popped and cramped.

"Dean?" There was a knock at the door, followed by Cas's voice. "Are you okay? You've been in there for at least an hour..." Dean carefully out on his people-pleasing mask and opened the door, smile in place.

"Hey, buddy. How'd the date go?" Cas grinned.

"It went great." His was phone was clutched in his hand- he lifted it when it alerted him he had a new text. "Adam's been texting me since he dropped me off at the door." Quite suddenly, Dean realized he had had more than enough of Adam. Without thinking, he grabbed the phone from Cas's unsuspecting hand and hurled in at the large mirror above the sink.

"I am sick and tired of hearing about Adam, Castiel." he seethed, fists clenched at his sides. Cas stared at his shattered mirror.

"You're more like your dad than I thought." he murmured softly as he turned away from both Dean and the mess. Dean's eyes narrowed.

"Don't." he followed the other boy, body tight. "Don't you dare. I'm not like him." Cas snorted derisively and spun back around to face him, his own anger building.

"Would you like to know something, Dean? You are very like your father, and very unlike Adam." Dean glowered.

"Why would I want to be like that perverted pedophile?" he demanded.

"He's only 23, Dean. Besides which, he cares about me. He understands me in a way you physically can't. I've known him for a fraction of the time I've known you and he gets me so much more than you ever could. That is why you should want to be like him, you assbutt."

"Oh." Dean had deflated during Cas's rant. "I'm sorry."

"Good." Cas spat, striding towards his room. "Sleep in the guest room tonight- I can't look at you." The door was closed firmly behind him and Dean moved into the living room, sinking to the couch.

"Damn." he laughed to himself, head in his hands. "Today sucked." Neither he nor Cas considered that he could leave if he wanted- he was already home, where would he go? It only occurred to Dean a few days later that Cas had said 'the guest room' and not 'your room'.

Neither Cas nor Dean slept that night- Cas because he was still stupidly angry, and Dean because he didn't want to face his dreams. Cas didn't speak when he entered the kitchen the next morning and found Dean already there, staring moodily into a cup of coffee. Silently, he poured his own steaming mug and added copious amount of sugar and cream before taking a deep sip. He wasn't really mad anymore- Cas didn't know how to hold a grudge- but wasn't quite ready to forgive yet. As Cas left the room, Dean broke the oppressive silence.

"Cas." his voice was wrecked. "Talk to me, man." The blue-eyed boy froze at the sound of his friend's voice and fought the urge to rush over and comfort him. Without turning to look, Cas gave his reply.

"I have nothing to say." Dean's heart twisted at the empty tone.

"Please, Cas," he whispered, near tears. "I need you right now." Cas almost tuned to look at the other. He stopped himself and shook his head, unwilling to show weakness. After closing his bedroom door, Cas sank against it, absolutely exhausted. He made himself stay put to keep himself from running to Dean- he would stay in the room all day if he needed to.

As it turned out, Cas wasn't meant to stay in one place if he wasn't writing. After just a few hours he ventured back into the kitchen for some food. Dean still sat at the island in the middle of the room, head in his hands. He didn't move when Cas started rattling around in the fridge. Chancing a glance over his shoulder, Cas looked at Dean properly for the first time that day. He had dark circled under his eyes, and his eyebrows were drawn together, mouth turned down in a frown. He was completely and totally asleep. Cas allowed himself a small smile- who could even pretend to be angry in the face of such cuteness? He quickly made some eggs and toast, loudly placing a plate in front of the lightly snoring Winchester, who woke with a start.

"Juice?" Cas offered hesitantly, smiling cautiously. Dean squinted and rubbed his eyes.

"Uh, if you're getting some for you I'll take a glass if you don't mind." Cas nodded and put down his own plate, fetching two glasses of food. Once he was seated, he frowned- Dean wasn't wolfing down his food. Maybe he was still mad? Cas picked listlessly at his own breakfast, suddenly no longer interested in his appetite. "I'm sorry about the mirror, and your phone. And for yelling." Dean spoke to his plate, but Cas was astounded he spoke at all- especially to apologize. "I was a dick, and you were right about being like my dad. I just..." For one moment, Dean longed to spill his guts, to tell Cas everything- about how confused he had been since Cas's interview, about the knife that was still twisting it's way through his organs, about how impossibly angry the very though of Adam made him, about how he had basically been disowned by his dad- but he couldn't. "I just had a bad day."

"It's okay Dean. I shouldn't have said what I did about your dad, or Adam." Dean laughed humorlessly.

"Why hide the truth? My old man's an angry old drunk, and I'll be just like him."

"What's got you in such a bad mood today, Dean?" Again, the urge to tell his best friend everything ripped through Dean.

"I just don't feel very good. Didn't sleep a wink."

"Me either." Cas admitted sheepishly. "It was too quiet." Dean let out a low chuckle.

"Do you maybe... want to take a nap?" Cas smiled.

"Absolutely." Leaving their picked-at meals behind, they boys padded to the bedroom. They lay down together, arms securely around each other's waists, legs thoroughly entangled, faces inches apart. They were asleep in minutes.

Unfortunately, both boys were awakened about an hour later. Dean whimpering woke Cas. It took him a minute to figure out what was going on- Dean had only mentioned his nightmares once, and Cas had never witnessed them himself. So he tried to be gentle.

"Dean," he shook his friend softly. "Wake up." This only seemed to make matters worse as Dean began tossing, shaking his head. "Dean, wake up!" Cas demanded, getting worried. When Dean still didn't wake up, Cas slapped him in the face-hard. "God dammit, Dean! Wake up!" Dean's eyes popped open and his muscles froze, locking in place as he gasped for breath. Slowly, he brought a trembling hand up to his face, eyes meeting Cas's.

"Did you hit me?" he asked incredulously. Cas blushed.

"You wouldn't wake up." he murmured.

"Damn." Dean laughed, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry for waking you up." Cas put his hand on the other boy's tense arm.

"Are you okay? You... you don't usually have nightmares anymore, right?" Dean shrugged, sitting up. "I just had a bad day yesterday." he wrinkled his nose. "I'm gonna catch a shower." he quickly exited the room. Cas picked up his phone- the screen was cracked but otherwise it was fine- and sent a text to Mary.

12:47 'I'm worried about Dean.'